Azriel x F!Reader EXPLICATE CONTENT!
Don't You Cry, Darling.
Summery: You and Azriel are having sex when suddenly it all gets too much for you. He gives you aftercare and talks you through it until the tears stop and you tell him whats really bothering you.
Warnings: Oral[F! receiving], Fingering, Praise, Aftercare, Improper usage of Azriel's shadows, Overstimulation, SubSpace, Dom Az x Bottom Reader
Word Count: 2k
Explicit Content Below cut- I'm not in charge of your consumption of content.
“Come on baby one more f’me” Azriel’s gruff voice said above me. Currently he was between my legs, curling his long scarred fingers deep inside me. I gasped, throwing my head back once again and squeezing my eyes shut as his thumb rubbed my swollen clit again. I strained mm sound escaping me as I squirmed beneath him.
"Can't s’too much..” I whined trying to squeeze my thighs shut. A dark chuckle sounded from between my legs.
“You can. You will.” He said in that tone that had zero room for argument. Then- “ You’re my good girl aren’t you sweetheart?” He coo’ed to me and i was a goner. I went pliant, again, under him and nodded. He softly shh’d me and pushed my legs apart gently.
“That's right…good girl…” He murmured and kissed my thigh before diving back in and flicking my clit with cruel precision. At the same time he resumed curling his fingers deep inside me. He pulled them out to bury them back in with a wet squelsh he chuckled at. Almost mockingly so, I would've scowled at the surely smug expression, if he didn’t pick that exact moment to start furiously curling his fingers, keeping them buried deep inside me. I gasped and I went to reach for him, but his shadows lashed out with a vengeance. Coiling around my wrists and binding me tightly back onto his ivory silk sheets. My hair spread out around me like branches.
“I’m gonna cum” I gasped out quickly– in an almost feverish manner. He just flicked his tongue quicker, speeding up his fingers inside me. I sucked in a breath, raising my head to look down at him. When those dark amber pools met my eyes my jaw fell open and a silent scream escaped me. I threw my head back into the silky and velvet pillows once again, letting out tiny moans and whines as he worked me through my high. Slowing his movements as I twitched under him. He now listlessly thrusted his fingers in and out of me, kissing my overstimulated bud. His monotonous movements welcomed after he’d pushed me to the edge again and again. Then slowly, he pulled his fingers out. Kissing my mound aimlessly once, making me tense at the sensations. I hadn’t even realized his shadows had let me go, until one gently grazed my cheek. I leaned into it on reflex, the coolness of it soothing me. My eyes remained shut lazily now. Lounging in his bed of light silks and dark velvets like a pampered queen.
“Did such a good job baby…” He kissed his way up my abdomen. It sounded almost far away with how far he’d pushed me tonight. I let out a quiet hum in response. Then I felt his hands on my face. His cool shadows now caressing my thighs and stomach. One over my overheated core, I tried to squeeze my thighs together in reflex, but his hips between them stopped me. The shadows cooled instead of aroused. I remained with my eyes closed, nuzzling into his hand. I could only ever be like this with only him. Unaware, pliant, so vulnerable. It was almost degrading even if his words were kind. The kind of degradation that only existed because of my shame. The way I submitted to him so easily…under some sweet praise like a sick puppy.
I opened my eyes slowly, not noticing the way I had a little pout on my lips. I looked lost. He was leaning over me, but his expression cracked as I opened my eyes.
“Oh honey…” He muttered and cupped my cheeks with both his hands. His thumbs soothed over either side of my face, catching a stray tear. I was crying? I didn’t know why I was crying. I wasn’t sad. I just…felt so little like this. So safe here with him. The tears came so naturally. More naturally than they ever have. A heartbroken expression took over his face as he gently slipped his arm under my shoulders. Lifting my upper body up as he moved from between my thighs to lay onto his back. He carefully draped my upper body on top of him, pulling the silk sheets and velvet duvet back over us. He tenderly took my cheek in his hands again and moved forward to kiss a tear.
“Why are you crying, hm? Did I push you too hard?” He said softly. Like this he was just Az. Not the man who dominated me in every way in bed. He was the one I teased and joked with. The one who would hold me even when I pushed him away. Who understood that I was wounded like him. Understood sometimes when I push the hardest is when I need him the most. But I wasn't pushing now. No, I was looking at him crying silently. Crying during sex wasn’t unusual for us. It was never because he was hurting me, that was something we never explored or enjoyed. Usually because he’d pushed me to the brink of failure again and again. Until the tears of overstimulation would happen. Occasionally, it was because he would push my head down a little too deeply and hold it there for a moment until a fresh tear sported on my lower lashes. Then he would release me and his thumb would swipe it away.
But tears after sex meant something else. I wasn’t sure what or why. I just felt so vulnerable like this. So exposed and seen, and used and loved all the same. He’d done nothing wrong at all, he’d made me cum 5 times within an hour. Spent his night worshipping me, and I was crying? I turned away from him. Wiping a tear away hastily with a slightly shaky hand.
“No...no none of that…” He said softly, turning my face back to look at him again. He truly looked devastated, a concerned look in his eyes and that frequent furrow between his brows making an appearance yet again. “Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it baby…don’t ever want to make you cry. Not like this…” He said quietly, his thumb swiping away another silent stray tear. I swallowed and looked up at him.
I was like him, I supposed. Quiet, reserved. Only in his arms could I ever be like this. Could I bask in his warmth and share his glory, chanting his name like a forgotten god only my tongue knew.
“I just…” I sighed out and shook my head slightly. I couldn’t find the words. What did I feel? Why was I crying? “It wasn’t you– you were perfect. You always are…” I said quietly. I watched his features relax slightly, but the concern was still there. He gently leaned forward and kissed my forehead.
“Talk to me sweetheart…you know I've got you.” He murmured against my head. Choosing to tuck my cheek against his chest and run his fingers through my hair. I wasn’t very good at eye contact. It was something I'd forced myself to work on, with him. It felt so intimate and real…like if they’d look too long they’d start to form an opinion about me. So, instead, I looked outside the open french doors to the veranda. I watched the stars and let them turn me into a poet once again.
“I don’t know why I’m crying…” I furrowed my brows as if perplexed myself. I continued looking out to the stars while he stroked my hair.
“I think maybe I just feel so safe with you… I don’t feel sad or anything but happy. I just feel…vulnerable.” I said quietly into the night. He kissed my hair and rubbed his hand up and down my waist soothingly.
“Was it too much?” He asked quietly, gently squeezing my hip before running his hand back up my side and back down again slowly. “No…it wasn’t even that. I just…felt so pathetic for a moment. So little compared to you..” My words got quieter the more I spoke. As if I was revealing a secret to him about myself. As I often did.
“Is that it? You think I see you as anything else than a fucking goddess?” He cursed but it was soft. It was loving the way he stroked my hair, nuzzling into it as if finding comfort himself in the scent of my hair oils. I smiled slightly at his compliment, kissing his chest gently.
“No…I know you love me. I just mean others maybe…” I said softly and he paused.
“Others? They don’t get to have an opinion on us.” His tone was quiet, but sternness had crept up into it again. “You’re mine. I love you. You will do great things and I will help you get there.” He said slightly more soothing this time. Brushing my hair back from my cheek and leaning forward to kiss my forehead once again. His lips finding a home there for the evening.
“You don’t think I'm…below you? You’re this decorated warrior…and I'm just…a silly bartender.” I quietly admitted my insecurities. Hesitating as if he wasn’t aware of the fact in the first place. He paused his movements stroking my hair, but he didn’t tilt my head to face him. He just watched me.
“You think…” He trailed off, making me lift my head slightly to look up at him. His brows were furrowed and that heartbroken expression was pooling into his eyes once again. As my gaze connected with his, he gently cupped my jaw.
“In every world…there is us. Is that not enough for you, my love?” He said quietly but his thumb stroking my jaw was quite distracting. I paused before answering. Of course it was enough, it always was. Maybe it was me that wasn’t. Before I could respond, his arms had engulfed me once again. I was gently manhandled to be on my stomach so he could look at me. My elbow held me up as he brushed my hair behind my ears.
“I don’t care if all you do is shovel shit for work. Hell…i dont care if you dont work- but I know, for you that’d never be an option.” A small smile graced his too perfect lips. The little scar through his upper lip highlighted by the moonlight, as if fate had weaved itself into the blade, so I could admire it like this.
“But…if you want more I can help you…anything baby, I’d do anything to make you happy.” He said in that same quiet but utterly devoted tone of his that had me undone at hello and begging by goodbye. The sincerity in his tone never failed to flatline me entirely. Maybe I had surrounded myself with all of the wrong people before him, but I found myself thinking, no one had ever been able to make me believe their reassurances. No kind words, whispered so soft, had ever made me melt or stop my racing mind. It wasn’t a love confession, it was truth.
“I…I wanted to be a writer.” I whispered, my hand reaching out to trace that familiar scar. Sometimes I worry I had written him into my own existence. Written every scar and memory so that someday someone somewhere would understand me in my entirety. But if I was his writer, I don’t think I'd have the heart to put him through what he’d need to experience just to understand me. It seems someone wrote it anyway. So that we’d always have each other. My mate.
Azriel’s face softened slightly, letting me trace the moonlit scars on his lips and jaw. Tilting his head slightly as I trailed my hand down to his neck to the heavier scar there. I traced that one too.
“Then write.” It came quietly, but my eyes flicked up to his. I tilted my head slightly. “Would you read it?” I asked quietly. I was just humoring myself, of course he would read it. His lips turned up slightly, and his thumb brushed along my own neck as my hand laid flat against his collarbone.
“Every word.” He said with such quiet conviction, I found myself speechless once again. He leaned forward and softly kissed me then. I smiled and kissed back slowly, there was no rush in moments like these.
//Masterlist//
A/N: This one's sappy- I wrote this months ago and forgot about it lol.
©2026 black-cherry-tea please do not copy, translate, or claim my work as your own.