The MASSAGE - part two
click here for part one
pairing: azriel x illyrian!reader
wc: 4.1k
cw: MDNI, smut, p in v, rough and hints of dub con but not rlly, teacher az talks u through it
authors note: sorry not sorry for edging you w part one lol, hope this did it justice <3
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You stumbled out of the tub, skin glistening and overheated. Whether from the temperature of the water, or the Spymaster’s proposition; you didn’t know.
You couldn’t believe you were seriously contemplating his offer. I mean, what would you even wear? Your leathers were ridden with dirt and sweat, and by the time you could get them cleaned he’d surely be asleep by then, right?
Suddenly, the sound of fabric hitting wood made you jump a metre to the left. You turned around, having no idea what to expect, but what befell you left you even more confused.
A breezy, linen shift dress, folded on the wooden bench beneath the washbasin. You looked up and around in alarm, as if someone had looked into your mind and took it upon themselves to see to your reservations about your lack of appropriate clothing.
“What the fuck?” You whispered, reaching out and poking the linen with a lone finger. You were met with soft fabric. It was certainly real.
“I’m not doing this.” You muttered to yourself once more. “No way.”
Sure of your decision, you moved to go pick up your fighting leathers to put them back on. Before you could grasp a stray sleeve, they disappeared right before your eyes.
You whipped around in alarm, wondering who could have possibly done that. Who was fucking with you? The tub filling autonomously was one thing, but now your clothes appearing and disappearing according to your thoughts? Somebody had to be doing this.
It couldn’t be Azriel, could it? No, what motive would he have to set you up with such a riddle if he seemed so reluctant to continue it himself? Nobody else was aware of what engagements you might have made while here, everyone thought you were just here to bathe and rest before flying back.
That is why you were there, right?
That only left one option; the house itself having magical meddling powers. Meddling with you and your life and your risky decisions.
As if in response, a bottle of perfume appeared next to the folded shift.
You stared up at the ceiling. “It’s you…” You shook your head. “It’s the House.”
A phantom wind blew a few strands of your hair upwards in response.
You scoffed. “You like meddling and drama, huh?”
Another gust, this time blowing the hem of the towel wrapped around your chest and midriff.
“If you’re going to put me through this, give me a glass of red wine. A big one. Or I won’t have the confidence.” You laughed shakily, both a mix of nerves and incredulity at the situation.
You were half hoping to be ignored, that this was all in your head, but so it appeared. A glass of red wine. Without thinking, you let go of your tightly clutched towel and threw the wine back in four hard gulps. You’d made your bed now, but you were certain you couldn’t lie in it without some liquid courage.
“Now, House,” You wiped your mouth with a giggle. Not yet a drunken giggle; a nervous one. “Show me to his room.”
Your eyes darted to the wooden bench on your right as a gust of wind blew one of the sleeves of the shift dress upwards; clearly to catch your attention, and you almost slapped yourself at your stupidity.
“Yes. Clothes.” You sighed, before pulling on the loose shift and fastening the buttons from the neckline down to the waistline. It was clearly a nightgown, else it was a dress appropriate for very few other occasions. Hanging the towel back up, you pattered out of the bathing chamber in nothing but the shift, your hair falling damp over your shoulders and the hem grazing just above your mid-thighs.
You turned to go left towards the stairs, but a force dragged you right back almost instantly.
“Right, then.” You mumbled, stepping to the right. No response. You kept walking to the right until you reached another set of stairs.
“Up?” You asked into thin air. No response.
You placed one foot on the staircase going upwards, and nothing seemed to try to drag you back or turn you around. So you continued upwards, one foot in front of the other until you reached the very top.
The scent changed up here. Something darker, and way more potent lingered in the air. A long with a woodsy kind of scent. You liked it though, you decided.
You walked down the corridor past several doors, until your body was forcefully stopped in front of one.
“Here?” You whispered, and a gust of wind blew your hair in response. Almost as if to also say, ‘you’re on your own now.’
Your heart began to thunder in your chest; it felt so loudly you were sure your fellow Illyrian on the other side of the door could hear it as easily as you could.
“Fuck.” You muttered silently. You were really doing this.
Lifting your arm, you rapped your knuckles quietly on the door.
No response came, yet a barely visible black shadow slithered under the door and up to the handle, turning and opening it itself. Slowly, the door creaked open, and you dared yourself to look inside.
You peered in, and yet you couldn’t see anybody in there. And then, a low, commanding voice crept towards you.
“Come in.”
You crept in on silent bare feet, cursing at yourself at your hair still dripping on his wooden floorboards.
“Don’t worry about it.” He crooned, somehow sensing your shame at the mess your wet hair was making. The door closed behind you as you took another step forwards into his room.
“Where are you?” Your voice was merely a whisper.
“Behind you.” He whispered back, directly into your ear and you immediately jumped. Your head whipped around, and you were shocked to find him stood between you and the door you had just come through.
“How did you…” You trailed off, as you looked him up and down. He was in nothing but loose brown jodhpurs.
A sly smile crept onto his beautifully chiselled face. “So you found my chambers after all.” He ignored your question.
“After such an enticing appetiser,” You rolled your neck in reference. “How could you expect me to not?”
“Ah. There’s that voice again.” He purred. “I thought you’d lost it for a moment.”
You felt a blush rising up your neck as he was clearly mocking your initial shyness, but you tried not to let it show.
“You expect me to not be slightly taken aback by your advances?” You raised an eyebrow. “You’d never spoken a word to me in private before. Barely even spoken to me at all in training.”
This time he pretended to look taken aback. “Advances? I have made none such.”
You rolled your eyes, but before you could retort about how you were promised a massage, a large hand wrapped itself around your neck.
“Do not,” His voice was gentle, yet his words were anything but. “Roll your eyes at me.” He squeezed gently for emphasis.
You swallowed hard. “So you’re the master both in and out of the training ring, I see.” You whispered hoarsely, your throat tight.
“If you ever made any other assumption about me,” Azriel spoke softly. “Don’t.”
And then he let go of your neck, turned you around and pushed you forwards until your knees hit the frame of his four poster bed. You didn’t dare wince, though.
“Lay on your stomach.” He commanded.
You looked over your shoulder and blinked at him. You were suddenly very aware of your lack of underwear under the linen shift.
“For your massage?” He peered sideways at you, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Right.” You swallowed, crawling onto his sheets and lying face down, putting your arms by your sides.
“I don’t expect it will feel very effective through your clothes.” He spoke lowly, dragging out each word.
You looked over your shoulder from your spot on the bed. “Can’t you try?”
He paused, staring at you inquisitively. And then, “No. I cannot.”
You sighed, and began unbuttoning the shift from the waist upwards. He couldn’t see what was facing the bed, anyway. You covered your chest with one arm, and tugged the dress down with your other until the linen was bunched around your waist. Thankfully, the bottom half was still where it should be, over your thighs.
You heard him retreat away from the bed, and faintly made out the sound of a bottle opening and closing. And then hands rubbing together.
“Some oil. For moisture.” He explained. You wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t, though. Something told you that he knew what he was doing.
You felt the weight shift on the mattress as he climbed on, settling behind you to the left on his knees.
Before you had time to think about it, strong thumbs pushed into the rippling muscles above your shoulder blades, and began pressing harder and harder in the surrounding areas.
You pressed your mouth into the sheets as an attempt to conceal the soft groans that rumbled through you as he once again kneaded your extremely sore muscles. He moved inwards, closing in around your spine before traveling back up to that sore, sweet spot on your neck below your skull. His fingers gently pinched the sides, and again his thumbs pushed hard into the back.
You bit your lip hard, and couldn’t stop your hands from reaching out and gripping the sheets as the sensations on your pressure points made you squirm and writhe beneath his touch.
He hadn’t caused you to make much of a sound, until his strong hands had landed on a sore spot on your left shoulder.
“Fuck.” You hissed, pulling your hand up towards your mouth and biting on your own knuckle to stifle the sound.
He pulled your hand away from your mouth. “Not happening, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.” He tucked your arm back by your side, even as you continued trying to squirm. “There’s a good girl, you can handle it.” He spoke soothingly, as he dug his fingers directly into the crevices above your collarbones.
“How are you so good at this?” You whimpered, as his hands returned to your back and made their way down your spine.
“I’m good at a lot of things.” He answered cryptically.
Once he was done with your back, he began rhythmically squeezing your calves, squeeze, pause, move up, repeat. Each squeeze was tantalising, and you were fighting the urge to kick out at him.
You whimpered quietly, and he let out a knowing chuckle. But there was something ever so slightly sadistic about it.
“Poor little Valkyrie. You don’t realise how much you use your legs, until you touch them afterwards.” He murmured, squeezing your calf in turn.
“Not a Valkyrie yet.” You mumbled into the sheets once again.
He suddenly pinched hard on your calf. “You’re whatever I say you are.” He said, before running his hand slowly up to the back of your thigh.
One squeeze. Two squeeze. He applied more oil, before pressing his thumbs hard into your hamstrings and driving upwards until he was grazing the hem of your linen dress.
This was dangerously uncharted territory. You reminded yourself that you had on no undergarments, and had no idea if Azriel was at all aware of this fact. If he was, he certainly didn’t let on.
He drove his thumb harder into the backs of your upper thighs and you mewled loudly in response.
“Oh, how responsive.” He purred, before moving his hand tantalisingly close to the space between your thighs. He was kneading your inner thighs now, and you were holding your breath without realising.
His hands were getting closer and closer there, and you weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose or not. Was this part of the massage, or was this something else entirely?
“Azriel,” You weakly warned.
“Hm?” He paused his ministrations, but let his hand linger in between your thighs.
“Where are you going?” You inhaled sharply.
“Where do you want me to take you?” He whispered.
“Azriel.” You repeated, more sternly this time.
“Do you want me to stop?” He rasped, and moved his hand even closer. With one hand, he continued to knead the back of your left thigh. With his other, he moved it closer and closer to your core.
“Azriel,” You whined, half in defeat.
“Do you?” He whispered.
“No.” You whispered back.
“I can’t hear you,” He gave the back of your thigh an encouraging squeeze with one hand, and began pulling the hem of your dress up with the other.
“Don’t stop.” You gasped, grasping the sheets again and surprising even yourself at your cadence.
He pulled the material up until he was bunching it at your waist, and your backside was entirely bared to him.
You didn’t dare breathe as you waited. You couldn’t feel anything but air, until suddenly he continued to drive his thumbs and fingers into your thighs, moving further and further upwards. Doing exactly the same thing, just on your ass now instead of just your legs.
Oh. So he really was just giving you a massage.
“Fuck.” He gritted out, and you looked over your shoulder in confusion.
Your eyes widened as you took in his pained expression, and his significantly tighter pants.
“You don’t look so comfortable.” You said in a sultry voice.
“Don’t start with me now.” He hissed, and reached forwards to push your face back into the mattress.
You were completely at his mercy, and the worst part was that it excited you. He could do anything. Absolutely anything he wanted from this position, and you hated that the thought didn’t alarm you, but actually elated you.
There was a shift of fabrics behind you, and before long he was moving to straddle your legs with his own, resuming the massage on your lower back once more. But despite being face down, you didn’t need to turn around to realise that it was bare legs that straddled yours.
His hands moved further up your back, kneading your neck and shoulders once more with both hands. And then he removed one.
He kept massaging you with his left hand, but his right was nowhere to be felt.
“Tell me I can’t touch you.” He whispered.
“You’re already touching me.” You frowned.
“No.” He grunted, and his free hand moved back down to your ass, dangerously close to the middle. “Tell. Me. I. Can’t.” He almost gasped.
Your eyes widened, and your breathing was becoming ragged. “Azriel.” You panted, shivering at his proximity.
“Tell me.” He groaned, letting his palm lay flat against your backside while his other hand continued to massage your shoulder.
“I won’t. I won’t tell you not to. I am yours to do with whatever you please.” You gasped, gripping the sheets and taken aback by your own boldness.
That was entirely it. His undoing. The hand on your ass moved down, and you whimpered as you felt him drag one finger up your core.
“Fuck,” He muttered. “You’re absolutely soaked.”
You felt your cheeks reddening, and you were thankful that your face was pressed down now. You almost involuntarily pushed your backside towards him like a cat in heat, your body begging for more.
He stroked you with two fingers now, but hadn’t gone any further. You groaned indignantly at the lack of fulfilment.
“Hmm?” He hummed. “Is there something you want?” He murmured, and circled your entrance with his middle finger.
“Azriel.” You whispered, but it was more of a rasp.
“I love the sound of my name on your lips.” He breathed. “But please, Valkyrie, use your words.”
You hesitated for a moment, thinking about how unbelievable the situation at hand was.
Fuck it.
“You, Azriel. I want to feel you.” You panted. “Now.”
He pushed two fingers inside, and you instantly groaned loudly at the stretch.
“Oh, listen to all that pretty music. Just for me.” He dragged his fingers out again, and pushed back in. Torturously slow, yet deliciously effective. You didn’t spare a thought to wonder how you’d got here with your tutor, no. All you could think about was how fucking amazing his fingers felt.
His other hand left your shoulder, and he used it to spread your legs further apart. Then, he slid it under you and let his palm massage the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs, while the fingers on his other hand continued to push in and out of you.
“Fuck, Azriel.” You pulled the sheets hard this time, not bothering to keep your arms tucked into your sides as he had placed them.
He shifted forwards, and you felt it. You felt him, in between your legs. Nudging the crevice in between your thighs. You knew you hadn’t imagined the shift and rustle of fabric and the feeling of bare skin earlier. He was completely bare behind you. He pulled his fingers out of you, and with his other hand he gently grabbed your jaw and turned your head to look over your shoulder behind you.
And then he made you watch as he took his fingers into his mouth and sucked every last bit of your arousal off them.
You felt your thighs clench at the sight. Nobody had ever made you feel this way; made your stomach feel so tight and your legs feel so shaky.
He shifted forwards once more, and nudged the tip of his cock against where you were still completely soaked. He let it drag up and down, coating himself in your arousal.
“Wait.” He murmured, and leaned forwards to pull a pillow from the top of the bed. He pulled your hips upwards, and slid the pillow underneath them so that your body made a slight bump instead of a straight line.
He didn’t give you a moment more to prepare yourself before he pushed into you, and the two of you gasped in unison at the fit.
You bit your lip and moaned lowly as you felt him bury himself to the hilt, the position of your raised hips with the pillow pressing against your stomach was driving you fucking crazy.
He placed one hand flat on the bed next to your head, and the other gripped tightly onto your hip as he began to move in and out.
It was now the two of you moaning in tandem, as he ground into you over and over again.
“You’re so fucking tight, Valkyrie.” He whimpered. Genuinely whimpered. If you weren’t too sedated by pleasure, you might have gasped in shock.
Pressure was building in your stomach, and you couldn’t help but clench around him in response.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Don’t do that. Not unless you want me to come immediately.” He groaned, and this brought a smug fucking smile to your face.
“You liked that. You liked making me squirm, you little minx.” He wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, before leaning down so that his breath was now tickling the back of your neck. “Let me touch your wings.” He whispered sinfully.
You shook your head. Absolutely not.
He hissed, and immediately began fucking you harder. You were somehow gaining an upper hand in his eyes, and he absolutely hated it.
“Why.” He gritted.
“Next time.” You purred. You were somebody new now. You had gained a heart of fire and felt reborn.
You suddenly pushed yourself up off the bed, and forced him to withdraw from you as a result.
You turned around and sat on your knees, letting yourself take in the devastating body of the male before you. He blinked at you, certainly confused yet made no effort to stop you or regain control.
His abdomen was even more impressive when you could see the V of his obliques, and his bronze thighs rippled with muscle. You boldly reached a hand out, and dragged it down his torso. He didn’t object. So you tested the waters. You pushed him down.
To your absolute surprise and delight, he let his back hit the mattress and straightened his legs out beneath him.
You got on all fours, and crawled towards where he now lay on the bed. Without warning, you lifted your leg over his hip and sank down. But not entirely.
You let his tip graze your core, not letting yourself be fully seated.
“What are you playing at?” He muttered through gritted teeth.
“I’m taking my time.” You replied sweetly, letting yourself sink down onto just the very tip.
He reached up, and tried to pull your hips down onto him to no avail. You held yourself in place, not letting him get what he wants.
“We’re not doing this.” He warned. “You’re not doing this.”
“Or what?” You mused, sinking slightly further down, before retreating back up entirely.
“Enough.” He muttered.
You ignored him, making the same ministrations with your hips, until he reached up with both hands and forcefully pulled you down until your hips slammed onto his.
You threw your head back and groaned loudly, whether in pain or pleasure you had no clue. He was big. He was so fucking big, and unbearably so from this angle.
“Oh come on, you can take it.” He began moving your hips in a circle, but not up and down yet. He at least offered you that mercy. His voice softened slightly as he noticed your slightly pained expression. “Come on sweet girl, I know you can take it all.”
“Your dick is fucking huge, Azriel.” You rasped, shaking your head as if afraid to maintain eye contact now that you were face to face.
To your surprise, he burst out laughing. “It wasn’t me who put us in this position, was it?” He gave a lopsided grin.
You glared down at him, and decided that there were more important things than the slight pain you felt at this angle. You lifted your hips and began rhythmically moving up and down hard, tensing your walls around him while you did so.
You watched his jaw clench hard at the sensation, his eyes almost squeezing shut and you smirked proudly.
His eyes narrowed in realisation, before he reached up and wrapped his fingers around your throat. Before you could do anything, he pulled you off him and slammed you down onto the bed.
He stared hard into your eyes as he began rubbing the tip of his cock against your entrance once more. You bit your lip and bucked your hips upwards, but he retreated almost instantly.
“Oh, it’s not fun when it’s being done to you, is it?” He purred patronisingly. But even he couldn’t control himself for long. He slammed into you again, and the hand around your throat moved up as he pushed two of his fingers into your mouth.
Without needing instruction, you sucked earnestly as you batted your lashes at him. Your eyes began to water at the sensation of him filling you from this angle, and you knew there wouldn’t be too long left until you climaxed.
“Such a good girl.” He panted, his forehead becoming damp with sweat. You could smell it, smell him, smell you, smell your bodies mixing and the release of all sorts of chemicals you didn’t understand and yet it turned you on so fucking much.
Moments later, he rested his forehead against yours as his thrusts became more and more laboured.
“I need to come inside you.” He whined. “Please, tell me I can come inside you.”
You reached up and caressed his jaw before throwing your head back in pleasure. “Fill me up.” You whispered affirmatively.
He didn’t need to be told twice. After one or two more thrusts, his hips practically convulsed as he spilled himself into you. It felt fucking amazing without a doubt, but you weren’t there yourself. Close, but not there.
After a few minutes of the two of you panting, he pulled himself out of you and began making his way down the bed.
“Where are you going?” You lifted your head to look down at him.
He hooked his arms underneath your thighs, nudging his nose close to your core. His wings were spread out majestically behind him, and he truly was a sight to behold in this moment.
“Your turn.” Was all he said in response.
