#eris drabble

[myromanempiree]

stomach sleeping - eris drabble

pt 2 up now!

A hand snaking up your spine, paired with a gentle kiss on the back of your neck, disturbed your slumber. “Doe?” Eris whispered softly. “Are you awake?”

A single nod from you induces a gentle smile on his face. His hand move from your spine to cupping your face. “You can't lay like that, my love.” He said, his voice soft, an enlightened tone only you have had the pleasure of hearing.

You groan, perfectly comfortable. “I'm fine, Eris.” You chastise, curling up into the silken covers, the auburn color a shimmering molten in the moonlight.

As you fall back asleep you let out a sign of protest as his arms wrap around you and turn you over, so you rest in the crook of his arm, back against his chest. “It's bad for the baby.” he retorts.

“I'm hardly two and half months pregnant.” A sigh from your lovely, but worried mate. “That's too many, I mean you've never been pregnant before—”

“Have you?” You said, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “You are a stubborn, foul female.” He whispered.

Despite this the ever-so-gentle, sweet peck to your neck begged of his never ending adoration

a/n: I've never published a fanfic before so this is definitely a WIP, but what do we think of the writing style?? Any notes? I'd take some if offered 😅

[roseodelle]

The Apparition - Eris x Reader Drabble

Summary: Eris grieves you for 500 years. When the cauldron is left unguarded after the second war with Hybern, he makes the decision to bring you back.

Word Count: 980

Warnings: Angst

Masterlist

He thinks of you constantly. He sees your face in every dream and every nightmare. He imagines you by his side nearly every moment. Sometimes he can almost feel you. His need for you is visceral enough to induce hallucinations; he yearns for you to brush his hair away from his face. To hear you whisper sweet words in his ear as you wipe away his tears and blood. Murmer your advice and share your wrath with him. 

Your death plays on repeat in his mind, a torture that cannot be compared. Beron could whip him and gag him. Chain him and leave him hanging for days. Beat him until he’s moments away from death. Burn him and heal him, just to burn him some more. But the punishments of his father are nothing compared to the memory of your broken body. Your throat torn open, and your still beating heart ripped from your chest. Your body bleeding and mutilated in his arms. The bond in his chest, the cord that attached his soul to yours, suddenly absent.

Your blood still stains his hands. His clothing. He can still see it, smell it, and feel it, no matter how often he bathes. No matter how much time passes, he’s haunted by your memory. He sees you in his peripheral, a beautiful apparition there only for him. Five hundred years, and he still cries your name. On the better days, he thinks of only the good. Of your secret meetings—the long nights and early mornings. Your laughter, your beautiful voice, your soft skin, and your tired eyes. Your perfect body and your smooth hands drawing patterns on his heated skin. Sweet cries, shaky breaths, and pleasured moans. 

You were his for just one hundred years. It was nothing, a fleeting second in time compared to the rest of his long and miserable life. But he relives that century with every breath he takes. On bad days, he curses you. How dare you do this to him? Share your soul with him, call him yours, sing to him, beg for him, and live for him. The promises you’d forced from him, the bargains you’d made with him are the only reason he still breathes. The only reason he still lives. If it weren’t for those damned promises, he’d of followed you. Thrown himself onto that pire with you, allowed himself to become ash beside you.

But you were a dreamer, and you’d seen greatness in him. You knew that one day, Eris would become the worthy High Lord of Autumn. You knew that he would be a merciful ruler. And you knew, somehow, that there was a chance you wouldn’t be there to see it. So you made him promise that, should that day come, he’d continue without you. That he’d rise when that time came and become what he needed to be. At the time, the possibility of such a vow coming to fruition was so minimal, so impossible, that he’d foolishly agreed.

He’s regretted that promise for five hundred years. Half a millennia without you, and somehow he still breathes. He carries you with him, your scattered ashes, an always present companionship. With every swipe of his sword and every jab of his dagger, you take life alongside him. You rest in the heavy ring on his finger. You were his best-kept secret in life and continued to be so in death. 

The thought of you is debilitating these days. It was during the first war against Hybern that you were taken from him. Safe across the battlefield, outside of the bloodshed. Healing those who were wounded. You’d been so scared for him. It’d been his first real battle, and your greatest fear was losing him. He’d held you in his arms just the night before. Soothed your worries and loved away your fears. He’d been so confident, so ready to take lives and revel in the throw of battle. You were supposed to be safe. Tucked away with the rest of the healers. He was wrong.

Now, as he readies himself for another battle against Hybern, he sees your near transparent figure. You sit gracefully ahead of him, your hair a halo around your beautiful face. Your precious, empty eyes watch as he sharpens his sword. You’re not there, really. You never had been. But still, he finds peace in you. 

On the battlefield once again, he takes life after life with ease. He fights with anger and compounding grief. And when it’s over, when Hybern is dead and he slaughters the last soldier in his way, he finds the cauldron. 

The High Lords and their inner circles surround the downed body of Rhysand. Feyre screams, her cries an echo of the pain he still feels from the loss of his own mate. And though many surround the all powerful cauldron, not an eye rests upon it. He sheathes his sword, fingers finding the ring upon his finger. Your ashes set into the sacred stone. It could work.

He doesn’t allow himself another second to debate the thought, winnowing immediately, just a few feet away from the cauldron. He spares no glance to the powerful Lords among him, to the wounded seconds in command and loyal servants. He takes quick, long strides forward, eyes straight ahead. He’s been noticed, he knows, as he hears a sharp “What are you doing?” from behind him. He quickens, opting instead to winnow once more. He quickly twists the ring off of his finger, casting it into the blessed black water.

“Eris, no!”

“What did you just do?”

Chaos erupts around him. He’s tackled to the ground, torn from the cauldron, but they were too slow. A crazed smile rests upon his lips as the cauldron boils, acrid smoke wisping from the darkness. He’s bringing you home, damned the consequences.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Eris x reader: Autumn Frost

A/N: Love autumn and winter but cannot deal with the cold

Also, I know it’s late, but here it is (I’m so sorry this took a while)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but some suggestiveness towards the end…

Word Count: 1,620

You’re out of your clothes and leaping beneath the covers before he’s stepped foot in the room.

The vibrant oranges and burning reds are always stunning, so rich and lively, but your fingertips have long since gone numb, along with your toes. The sheets are crisp, but cool, not yet warmed by bodies. Shivers run along your skin, as if skating across a frozen lake. Teeth chatter in the silence, and sharp, caramel eyes flick over to your heavily-duveted form—bundled up tight beneath the cotton sheets.

Before you can protest, Eris has strode to your side, hand sliding beneath the covers to locate your own. His brows narrow when he feels the iciness of your skin, almost frozen stiff. None of the softness he so frequently seeks to be found. “You’re freezing,” he mutters, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Half of you wants to pull away, but you’re too preoccupied with the heat that’s seeping from his skin into your own, warming your blood. “I’m fine,” you reassure, teeth chattering a little, lips slightly numb. His brow narrows further, “you’re clearly not fine. You’re shaking.” You manage a small smile, tightening your hands on his, pulling him closer, rolling onto your side as you curl into him. “I like it,” you murmur, “it’s part of Autumn—the chill. And it makes the heat so much better; more rewarding.”

He sighs, free hand wrapping around the nape of your neck, pulling you up the to heat of his body, tucking you into the crook of his shoulder. “So strange, aren’t you?” He mumbles the question under his breath, hot lips brushing your temple. You press deeper into his warmth, bathing in the heat of that inner flame. “Rude.”

A chuckle drags from his chest, like the crackle and pop of firewood from a bonfire. “I’m right though, aren’t I?” You tip your head up to glare at him, but he presses his lips to your forehead, instantly softening you. Leaning into the quiet kiss, you squeeze his hand, revelling in the all-encompassing sense of him. So wonderful. So perfect.

You whine when he releases you, forcing you to burrow back beneath the thick duvet, curling into the small patch of warmth you’ve managed to accumulate. Eris sighs, stroking your hair before standing, moving to change out of his own clothes—more than happy to spend the evening tucked beneath the covers. Especially if it means you’ll be greedily putting your hands all over him. He knows you don’t do well with the cold, even if it’s nothing compared to the harsh blades of winter ice.

When he’s changed, he pulls back the covers. You squeal as the outside air rushes in, nipping at your skin, making it pebble with goosebumps. “Eris,” you whine, scrambling deeper into the small warmth, cowering from the cool air. “Eris hurry up. It’s freezing,” you moan, muscles tensing as you attempt to wrap the duvet tighter around your body. He snorts, “I knew it was worse than you were letting on. I told you to wear your gloves, remember? Next time tell me when you start to get cold. I’ll warm you up.”

You huff begrudgingly, rolling onto your side, facing away from him—even though you know he’s right. He laughs softly at your antics, then the mattress dips, and strong arms are wrapping over your hips, pressing beneath your waist as you’re dragged back into his chest. As soon as his skin touches yours, the fight seeps from you. Instead you roll back over, tucking yourself close, hands greedily groping at his sturdy muscle, revelling in his scent. Slightly smoky, with the crispness of autumn frost, the slight tang of roasted chestnuts twining with the sweetness of apples cooked in brown sugar.

“Come closer,” you mumble, lips brushing against his collar bones, nosing at his throat. The soft breath of his chuckle tickles your pointed ear, “I’m as close as I can get. Are you still cold?” You nod, just a small dip of your head. Instantly the bed warms, heat radiating from his skin, heating you until you no longer feel the need to cling so tight to him.

Eris senses the way your muscles melt, how your fingertips have softened and your breaths are deeper. Less tense, no longer so quick or shallow. He wraps you tighter, enjoying your scent, allowing you to sink into his bones.

You tuck deeper into him, enjoying the feel of having him all to yourself. With nothing else to worry about. No gossiping handmaids, no peeping servants, no overbearing courtiers. Just you and him.

“Eri?” You mumble, lips warm and soft against his skin, a faint tickle coming from your breath as it skates across him. He hums in response, and you feel it rattle through your bones, biting back a soft purr. Stay on track. “What shall we do tomorrow?” You ask drowsily, fighting to stay awake with the all-around comfort he innately provides. “What do you want to do?” He replies softly, eyes shut, content to bask in the moment.

Your brow furrows, and you manage to sleepily glare at him. “We’re here because you’re overworking yourself,” you mumble. “You needed a break, so it’s your choice. What do you want to do?”

Hands grip your waist, sliding a little lower, “you.” He pinches your ass, making you squeak, then poke him in the ribs. You press your cold toes to his calves, and he hisses. “I thought you said I was here to relax,” he fires at you, pushing you across the mattress then tugging the duvet back to his body.

“Eris!” You snap, scrambling back across the bed, burrowing into the heat, desperate to escape the cold. “Eris, that was cruel,” you snipe, pushing him onto his back, letting you crawl on top of him. “Attacking me in my own bed is cruel,” he counters, helping you straddle his hips. “Twice, I might add.”

“You should have taken my question a bit more seriously,” you grunt, lying flat across his chest, the soft swell of your breasts pressing against him delightfully.

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, threading through your hair, guiding you to look up at him. “Do you think I was joking, lovely vixen?” Heat flushes your cheeks at the pet name—it doesn’t come out unless he wants to make things messy. “No…” you mumble. He’s spent long enough showing how much he desires you, that you don’t doubt him.

Hell, if the tables were reversed…

“But that’s something you can have whenever you want,” you mumble, eyes flickering about as he watches you hungrily. “So pick something else—something you don’t normally get the opportunity to do, at least.”

A neatly groomed brow arches, “you’d like me to get creative, then?” You flush, staring at him, heart beating heavily in your chest. Sure he can feel it. “Eris…” you murmur, lowly, feeling the beginnings of something hot and liquid coalescing in the pit of your belly.

“You’ve always been so sensitive to temperature, haven’t you?” He drawls, fingertips dancing teasingly down the notches of your spine. Teeth bite lightly into your lower lip, “whatever you’re thinking, stop it. Now.” You don’t really want him to, though. He’s already got you wrapped around his finger. You’ll probably do whatever he ends up asking you to.

Eris’ lips quirk, and your sex heats in response. A tingle tracing back up your spine as his hand moves lower, settling over your ass, gripping, groping and squeezing. “Eris…” It’s supposed to be a hiss, but comes out more like a whimper. “Want to know what we’ll be doing tomorrow, lovely vixen?” He purrs, fingers slipping between your thighs. You remain quiet, and he knows he’s won.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to open the windows in the kitchen, and you’re going to lie on the table,” he murmurs, stroking the intimate skin of your upper legs. “You’re going to take all your clothes off, so you’re extra sensitive to the cold, and you’re going to stay completely still as I warm you up on my own.”

You’re not sure you’ll be able to cool down, embers igniting in the pit of your belly, want thrumming between your thighs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it nice for you,” he hums, retracting his hand, bringing it back up and you nearly whimper. “Give you a nice, hot meal. Light some candles. Run a bath for you after…” Caramel eyes gleam, “maybe the candles will come in use, during.” Warmth flushes your cheeks as you find yourself anticipating tomorrow's dawn.

“You’re unfair, Eris,” you mumble onto his chest, knowing he’s not going to give you anymore stimulation until tomorrow. Even if you beg for it. “Unfair?” He echoes, a lilt to his voice, “you wanted me to do something I don’t usually get the opportunity to.”

“I meant choose something like bake a pie together…read together…go on a walk…something more mundane.”

“Fine, let’s bake a pie, go for a walk, then eat it when we get back over a book,” he responds, stroking your hair affectionately.

“No,” you say hurriedly, “we can do what you wanted. That’s why we’re here, after all. I won’t get in your way.”

He laughs again, squeezing your sides, calling a smile to your lips. Setting kisses across his skin, gentle whispers of affection.

How lucky he is to have this time with you.

To have this secretive space, where it’s just you two together, and he can shut out the rest of the world.

Only for a short while, but it’s worth it.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[inkedinshadows]

the world(and me. mainly me tbh) is in dire need of prompt 22 with eris. also ily and your writing!

Steamy Intentions

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

A/N: thank you my sweet!! ily too 🩷 this one's a bit shorter than the others, but i hope you enjoy anyway!

Prompt: "You're such a tease today."

Warnings: fluff, teasing, suggestiveness

Word count: 588

Eris groaned softly when you pressed your thumbs into the tense knot at the base of his neck.

He was soaking in the bath you had drawn for him earlier, his eyes closed as you massaged his shoulders. It had been a long week, and you could feel it in the lingering tension coiled within his body.

“Your hands work wonders, my love,” he said quietly.

You smiled, continuing your massage for a few more moments before you let your hands slide down to his chest. Leaning forward from where you sat on the edge of the tub, you pressed a trail of tiny kisses from his neck to his ear.

“They can do even more wonders, you know,” you murmured, caressing his chest until your fingertips brushed the warm water.

Eris's eyes remained closed, but you didn't miss the way the corner of his lips curled in a grin. “Oh, I know they can, darling.”

Your mouth trailed down the side of his throat as your hands dipped beneath the water. “Want me to show you?”

His chuckle was low and soft, like a caress. “You’re such a tease today,” he mused. “First with that little dress, now this… What's the occasion?”

You smiled against his skin. “I knew you liked that dress.”

He could deny it all he wanted, but you knew better. You had caught him stealing glances at you every time he thought no one else would notice. But you did. You always did.

“Well, I couldn't let everyone know how much you affect me, could I?” he retorted.

You hummed before leaving one last kiss in his hair and standing up. At the rustle of fabric, Eris cracked open an eye just in time to watch that very dress slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet.

He sat up a little straighter in the tub, arms draped over the edges as you stepped into the water and settled between his legs. Warmth and bubbles immediately surrounded you, but your focus remained on your mate.

“The occasion,” you said slowly, reaching out to brush his jaw with wet fingers, “is that you've been working hard lately. I wanted to help you take your mind off things.”

His already relaxed expression softened further, and he kissed the tip of your thumb when you brushed it over his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you as close as he could in the snug space of the tub.

“Then I must congratulate you, my dear,” he murmured. “Because you've succeeded. I'm as relaxed as I could ever be.”

He pulled you in for a kiss, his lips soft against yours. You indulged him for just a moment, and when you pulled back, he followed, chasing your lips for another kiss. You only smirked.

“Are you, though?” you teased, hands already disappearing beneath the surface. Now that he had drawn you closer, you could feel his erection rest hard and heavy against your thigh. “Because it seems to me like someone might still need those wonders, after all.”

“Don't you act all innocent, as if it isn't entirely your fault.” Eris smirked right back at you. “You've been teasing me all day. And you looked ravishing in that dress.”

You chuckled, leaning in to kiss him again as your fingers wrapped around his hard length. He shivered and throbbed in your gentle grasp.

“Well, then,” you whispered against his lips. “Since it's my fault, I suppose I should make it up to you.”

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[surielstea]

Solstice Special

(SFW version)

Pairing: ACoTaR x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: A compilation of drabbles with a theme of Winter Solstice, just an excuse to write fluff really.

Warnings: All fluff! One allusion to smut (rhys), but that’s it!

3.7k words.

Rhys - Mistletoe

I leaned against the archway of the foyer, sighing as I reached down to unbuckle the straps of my heels. The day's weight still clung to me, but the familiar warmth of home promised relief. One shoe off, then the other, I barely registered the soft sound of hurried footsteps until they were practically upon me.

Rhysand rounded the corner from his office, his usual grace momentarily abandoned as he skidded slightly on the polished hardwood floor. My brows furrowed at his urgency. "What's wrong?" I asked softly, my voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern.

He didn't answer, not with words, anyway. Instead, his hands cupped my face, firm yet tender, tilting my head up to meet his descending lips. His kiss was sudden, warm, and commanding, leaving me breathless before I had a chance to even think.

Still, I kissed him back, my confusion melting into a hum of contentment. When he pulled away, his violet eyes sparkled with mischief, and his lips curled into that devilish smile that always unraveled me.

"Welcome home," he murmured, his voice rich and teasing.

I blinked up at him, dazed. "What was that for?" I managed to whisper, still feeling the lingering heat of his mouth on mine.

His grin widened as he silently pointed above us. My gaze followed the gesture, landing on a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the archway. I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, shaking my head. "Did you hang that up?"

"I did," he replied, looking awfully pleased with himself. His pride was almost endearing, considering I had done all the rest of the decorating. The garlands on the banister, the wreath on the door, the lights twinkling softly in the windows—all my handiwork. And yet, he stood there, so smug about his singular contribution.

I grinned, shaking my head as I leaned up on my toes to press another quick kiss to his lips. "I think it's my favorite of all the decor," I murmured against his mouth.

He hummed his agreement, his hands sliding down to rest on my hips. "I know," he said, his tone entirely too self-satisfied. "I'll expect full credit for it."

From that day on, the mistletoe became a tradition—one he refused to let go of. Every day when I walked through the door, he'd be there waiting. His excuse was always the same, a playful glance upward and a husky, "You know the rules."

Usually, the kisses were soft, sweet. A lingering press of his lips against mine followed by a quiet, "I'm glad you're home." Sometimes he'd brush his thumb along my jaw or press his forehead to mine, his eyes saying what words never could.

But on other days—those long, grueling ones when exhaustion was carved into every line of my body—his kisses were different. They were hungrier, more insistent. He'd pin me against the wall, his hands roving over my waist, my back, his touch dissolving every ounce of tension. His mouth would trail to my neck, his voice a low murmur, "Let me take care of you." And he always did, in ways that left me breathless and melting into him.

There were moments when I wondered if the mistletoe had been an innocent gesture at all, or if he'd hung it up knowing it would become something more—a way to anchor us, to carve out a pocket of intimacy amid the chaos of the world outside. If so, I couldn't complain. It was the best idea he'd ever had.

The archway and its ever-present dangling plant became our quiet haven, an unspoken ritual that drew me closer to him every day. And it was the last night of the Solstice Season, meaning all the decorations would go down tomorrow. So when I came home I expected rose petals leading up the doorstep and candles to illuminate our last kiss beneath the dangling plant.

But when I walked inside, I found him waiting for me, not beneath the mistletoe, but by the window, a glass of wine in his hand. The soft glow of the moonlight framed him like some sort of painting, his silhouette a study in elegance and ease. He didn't notice me at first, his attention fixed on the snow drifting lazily outside.

I paused in the doorway, letting the sight of him settle in my chest. He was dressed in more casual clothes—a loose, charcoal-gray sweater and black slacks—and for a moment, I could almost forget he was the High Lord of Night, the most powerful male in Prythian. Right now, he was simply mine.

"Are you going to stand there staring all night?" Rhysand asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. He didn't turn, but I could hear the amusement in his tone.

I rolled my eyes, stepping into the room. "You looked peaceful. I didn't want to ruin the moment."

He glanced at me over his shoulder, a slow smile spreading across his face. "You could never ruin anything." Setting his glass down, he turned fully, holding out a hand. "Come here."

I hesitated for only a moment before crossing the room and slipping my hand into his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and sure, and he guided me toward the window. "Look," he murmured, nodding toward the snow.

I followed his gaze. The world outside was blanketed in white, the kind of snowfall that muffled all sound and made the world feel smaller, quieter. It was beautiful, but I couldn't focus on it for long. Not with the way he was looking at me.

"You're not even looking at the snow," I accused softly, glancing up at him.

His lips twitched. "Why would I, when you're here?"

I let out a breathless laugh, shaking my head. "You're shameless."

"Always," he agreed, pulling me closer. His hands settled on my hips, and I found myself instinctively wrapping mine around the back of his neck, head resting on his chest as I stared out the window. We stood there, swaying slightly to a rhythm only he seemed to hear.

After a moment, I tilted my head up to look at him. "You going to kiss me anytime soon?"

"Desperate, are you?" he countered, one brow arching.

I gave him a pointed look. "You're the one who started all this."

He sighed, a dramatic sound, but the way his hands tightened on me gave him away, he couldn't deny me.

He leaned forward, smiling as our lips nearly met but didn't quite touch. I huffed, rising onto my toes and closing that gap to kiss him. It was slow and deep, a silent confession of everything I couldn't say. He responded immediately, his arms tightening around me, grounding me.

His hands ran up my hips, large hands gripping my waist, the warmth of his touch seeping past my clothes as he pulled me closer and deepened our kiss, attempting to pour all his love into this one moment.

By the time we pulled apart, I felt lighter, the weight of my long day dissolving under his touch. "Thank you," I whispered, my fingers brushing over his jaw.

He smiled, that familiar, self-assured curve of his lips. "For the kiss? Or for being perfect?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "For this. For you."

His smile softened, his gaze turning molten. "Always, my love." He pecked my lips once more, slowly pulling away with his forehead against mine. "Always."

Az - Cookies

We had made a mess. Flour clung to the entire front of Azriel's black shirt, standing out starkly against the dark fabric, while dye from the frosting stained my hands in streaks of bright colors. The countertops were a warzone of cookie cutters, unused dough scraps, and piping bags in every color.

But neither of us seemed to care. Azriel focused on his latest creation with the precision of a Spymaster turned confectionery artist, the perfectly golden-brown sugar cookies serving as his canvas. I was still shocked he hadn't devoured the one he was decorating, considering he'd been snatching cookies fresh out of the oven all afternoon.

We weren't officially competing, but if we were, I'd be losing. Horribly. His cookies looked like something straight out of a Winter Solstice display—ornate wreaths, perfect bows, and snowflakes so detailed they might have been drawn by hand. Meanwhile, my snowman looked like he'd been through a blizzard and lost the fight. His crooked smile mocked me from the plate.

With a defeated sigh, I cleared a small space and hoisted myself onto the counter, leaning back on my hands to watch my mate work. I didn't understand how he was so good at manipulating the frosting—it seemed to defy my every attempt.

"Are you pouting?" Azriel asked without looking up, his deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"Something like that," I replied, unable to keep the pout from my tone.

"This was your idea, might I remind you," he said, a soft laugh rumbling in his chest.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, waving him off. "I remember."

Azriel placed the piping bag down with deliberate care, adding yet another masterpiece to the growing plate of decorated cookies. Finally, he looked up, those hazel eyes warm and alight with quiet humor as they locked onto mine.

Without a word, he stepped forward, settling himself between my legs. His hands, still dusted with flour, rested on either side of my thighs as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, sweet—lingering just long enough to make my breath catch. When he pulled back, his lips curved into a slight smile, dimples appearing as though summoned just for me.

"You taste like frosting," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

A soft giggle escaped me before I could stop it. "You're not entirely innocent either." I poke his chest.

He tilted his head, pretending to think, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes gave him away. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," he said at last, his lips twitching into a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the warmth blooming in my chest.

Cass - Snowmen

"Using your powers is cheating," Cassian declared, gesturing toward my much more impressive snowman. His own creation, barely the size of a pre-schooler, leaned precariously to one side, a lopsided grin smeared across its face.

I scoffed, smoothing the snow on mine as I used my magic—honed in the Winter Court—to form the snowman's perfectly symmetrical, smiling expression. "Don't pout," I said, throwing him a smug grin. "It won't make your sad little snowman any better."

His gasp was loud and exaggerated, and he stomped through the knee-deep snow toward me, hands on his hips like a scolding parent. But the rant he was about to give cut off as his gaze flicked upward. He tilted his head back, dark hair dusted with white as fresh snow began to fall.

The soft flakes drifted between us, one landing perfectly on the tip of my nose. Cassian grinned, leaning in to brush it away with his lips before stealing a kiss, his mouth warm against mine. The cold melted away as I wrapped my arms beneath his jacket, hugging his solid torso against me. His hands pressed against my back, pulling me even closer.

But he leaned too far into the embrace, and the next thing I knew, we were tumbling backward into the snow.

I squealed as I landed with a soft thump, the freezing cold biting into me as I flailed. Cassian laughed, his deep chuckle loud and unapologetic as he flopped onto his back beside me.

"You're such a brute," I muttered, trying to brush the snow off my hair.

"And you're such a sore loser." He grinned, turning his head to look at me, dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "Thought you liked the cold?"

"I do." I glared, my cheeks flaming as the cold snow beneath me only seemed to grow colder.

"Then stop whining and enjoy it." Before I could argue, he swept his arms wide, his legs kicking out to carve a snow angel. The sight was so ridiculous—Cassian, a massive Illyrian warrior, lying in the snow and making an angel—I couldn't help but laugh.

"You don't need to use your arms, you already have arms," I said, flopping back beside him. "So ridiculous."

But I joined him, moving my arms and legs until a pair of angels stretched between us. He turned his head toward me, his grin softening into something warmer, gentler.

"I like this," he murmured. "Just you and me, acting like kids in the snow."

My heart clenched, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around me tighter than his arms ever could. I reached for his hand, our fingers lacing together in the snow.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," I teased, "or I'd bury you in it."

He laughed again, the sound full of unrestrained joy as he tugged me closer. His wings wrapped around us like a shield, keeping the cold at bay as the snow continued to fall. We lay there for a while, watching the snowflakes swirl down from the dimming sky.

Eventually, he whispered, "I'll help warm you up when we go inside—if you admit my snow angel is better than yours."

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips. "Not a chance, general."

Lucien - Ice Skating

"Wait!" I called out to my mate, my hands trembling slightly as I tried to steady myself. My knees wobbled dangerously beneath me, the ice beneath the blades of my skates feeling far less forgiving than solid ground.

Lucien turned, easily as if he wasn't on blades. His golden eye shimmered with amusement, the hint of a small smile tugging at his lips. He looked as though he'd been born on skates, while I felt like a newborn fawn—clumsy, awkward, and certain I was seconds away from disaster.

I took a tentative step forward, my arms stretched out as if I could somehow will balance into my uncooperative limbs. The moment my foot moved, I lurched forward, letting out a squeak of panic.

Lucien was there in an instant. I grabbed his jacket instinctively, clinging to him as though he were the only thing standing between me and certain doom.

"Here," he said, his voice warm and steady, "hold my hands." He extended his palms toward me, his confidence so disarming that it made my own nerves feel a bit foolish. Slowly, ever so slowly, I released my death grip on his jacket and slid my trembling hands into his.

"There," he said softly, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles over the backs of my hands. "Be confident, or you'll fall."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered under my breath, glancing down at the ice with a mix of terror and defiance. "My legs are so stiff from the cold I feel like they'll snap in half."

Lucien chuckled, the sound low and rich, like molten honey. "Always so dramatic," he teased, threading his fingers through mine as he took a small step backward, gently pulling me forward.

"Just match my movements," he instructed. His voice was calm, soothing, and so maddeningly self-assured that I almost forgot my fear. Almost.

My brows furrowed in concentration as I tried to follow his lead. My legs refused to cooperate, my body too tense to glide smoothly the way he did. Instead, I felt like a lump of wood teetering on the edge of disaster, certain that at any moment I'd go face-first into the ice.

Sensing my hesitation, Lucien squeezed my hands, and warmth bloomed from where his skin met mine, chasing away the biting chill that had settled in my fingers. The warmth crept up my arms and into my chest, soothing me in a way that only he could.

"See? You're already doing better," he encouraged, his voice laced with pride.

I frowned up at him, catching the faint curve of his lips. "Stop laughing at me," I huffed.

"I'm not laughing," he protested, though his golden eye sparkled with amusement.

"You're smiling," I pointed out accusingly.

"Am I not allowed to smile at my mate?" he countered, his smirk widening.

"No," I shot back, though my voice lacked conviction. "Not when I'm one slip away from breaking every bone in my body."

He laughed then, the sound so genuine and warm that I felt my annoyance melt away. "You're not going to fall," he promised.

"And if I do?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Then I'll catch you," he said simply, his voice steady and certain.

Something in the way he said it—like it wasn't just about ice skating, but about everything—made me falter. I swallowed hard, the moment of vulnerability making me cling to him just a little tighter.

"Now," he said, his tone light and teasing again, "let's try this without you looking like you're walking on hot coals."

I glared at him, but I couldn't stop the small laugh that bubbled up. His confidence was contagious, and as I let him guide me step by step across the ice, I felt my body begin to relax.

The fear was still there, lingering at the edges, but with Lucien's steady hands in mine and his unwavering gaze fixed on me, I started to believe that maybe I wouldn't fall. And even if I did, I knew he'd be there to catch me.

Eris - Cocoa

I buzzed with excitement as I topped my steaming mug of cocoa with an indulgent swirl of whipped cream, crowning it with tiny marshmallows that spilled over the rim. The warmth of the drink seeped into my hands as I cradled the mug, savoring the simple joy of the moment.

"Love?" Eris's voice, low and laced with sleep, called from the hallway. I glanced up just as he peeked his head around the corner, his copper hair deliciously ruffled, his sharp amber eyes softened by drowsiness.

"Morning, Eris," I said softly, a smile tugging at my lips. He blinked at me, his expression still crinkled with sleep, and shook his head wordlessly before padding into the room.

Before I could ask what he was doing, he closed the distance between us. Gently, his hands slid over mine, tugging me away from the counter and into the hallway with the sleepy drag of his feet.

"Eris," I began, my voice full of curiosity, "what are you—?"

He didn't answer, his silence as warm and grounding as his touch. His hands in mine felt like slipping into a sun-drenched blanket on a crisp autumn morning. He led me to our bedroom, nudging the door open with a lazy kick. Releasing my hands, he turned to face me, his sharp features soft in the early light.

In one swift motion, his hands found my waist, and he pulled me down onto the bed with him. "Eris," I sighed as he reached for the blankets, cocooning us in their warmth.

"It's too early," he murmured, his voice raspy and thick with sleep as he nestled into the crook of my neck.

"My cocoa's going to get cold," I protested half-heartedly, but the argument died on my tongue the moment he tightened his arm around me.

"Just a few minutes," he countered, his words brushing my skin like embers. His fingers began tracing slow, soothing circles along my back, their heat melting away the last of my resistance. He pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck, and I couldn't stop the warmth that bloomed in my chest, spreading like wildfire.

"Fine," I whispered, my resolve crumbling under his touch. "Just a few more minutes."

His only response was a soft hum of approval as I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, combing it away from his face. His quiet breaths and the rhythmic heat of his touch lulled me deeper into the comfort of the moment. Before I knew it, I'd drifted off, enveloped by his warmth.

I woke to the sensation of gentle kisses—one pressed to my forehead, another to my cheek, and then the tip of my nose. I blinked my eyes open, greeted by Eris's amber gaze, glowing with unspoken affection.

"Morning," I rasped, my voice heavy with sleep. "Again."

His lips curved into a soft smile as he leaned in, brushing a kiss against mine. His fingers cradled my jaw, the gesture tender enough to steal my breath.

"Morning, love," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. His thumb traced the curve of my cheek. "Think your cocoa's cold now?"

My eyes widened as the memory hit me. I scrambled out of bed, rushing to the kitchen as Eris's amused laugh echoed behind me. I skidded to a stop at the counter, frowning down at the abandoned mug. Tentatively, I dipped a finger into the drink. Ice cold.

"It's ruined," I said, pouting as I turned to Eris, who had followed me with his usual unhurried grace. "It was the last of the cocoa powder."

He leaned against the counter, his hair still a mess from sleep, and shook his head with a smirk. "You forget who I am."

Taking the mug from my hands, he held it between his palms. Within seconds, steam curled into the air, and the rich scent of cocoa filled the kitchen once more.

I smiled, biting my lip as I looked up at him. "Show-off."

"There," he said with a grin, handing the mug back to me.

Rising onto my toes, I pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, savoring the warmth of his skin. "Thanks, 'Ris," I murmured, cradling the mug close as I took a tentative sip. The heat spread through me, as rich and comforting as the male watching me with sleepy affection.

"You're welcome, love," he replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His amber gaze held mine, filled with warmth, and I couldn't help but think there was no better way to start the day.

NSFW version here -> Link

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[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Solstice Gifts

A/N: Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! 🎄✨ This is a collection of short drabbles of how I imagine ACOTAR men would give the reader a gift during Solstice. I originally planned to write for all the High Lords, but I ran out of time (and ideas). Still, I hope you enjoy this!

Azriel

Being Feyre’s younger sister, you were new to Rhys’s inner circle and Azriel wasn’t sure if you would accept a gift from him, or if it would even be appropriate. So when the time came for exchanging presents, he didn't immediately hand you his.

As a Shadowsinger and a Spymaster, he had observed what you liked and wanted. So when he decided to get you a gift, he let his shadows quietly place it in your room, unwilling to cross that boundary himself.

When you returned that evening, you found it waiting for you, simply wrapped with a small card in his neat handwriting: For you. From Azriel.

The simple words made you smile, warmth blooming in your chest. But your surprise only grew when you unwrapped the gift and found the very thing you’ve been quietly wanting for so long.

Later that night, you made your way to his room, your nerves making you knock so soft you almost hoped he wouldn’t hear it. But his sharp senses caught it anyway, and when he opened the door, his eyes widened slightly in surprise at the sight of you standing there.

You stammered a little before managing to thank him, your cheeks warm. He dipped his head slightly, his voice low as he replied, “I wanted you to have something that mattered, something that you truly wanted.”

On impulse, you stepped onto your toes and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. You thanked him again, before pulling back and reluctantly walking back to your room.

His heart skipped a beat, shadows curling around his shoulders as he watched you go. Part of him wanted to call after you, to say something to make you stay, but he held back. It wasn’t the right time…not yet.

Cassian

Unlike Azriel, Cassian was anything but subtle. When you joined Rhys’s inner circle, he couldn’t resist flirting with you at every opportunity. Your friendship quickly became filled with playful banter, though you almost always dismissed his shameless remarks with an eye roll or a sharp retort.

On Winter Solstice evening, as everyone exchanged presents, he plopped down beside you on the couch, his thigh pressing comfortably against yours. You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “What do you want?” you asked, half exasperated, half amused.

“I want nothing,” he said, grinning as he handed you a small box. The wrapping was so crumpled it looked as though he’d wrestled it into submission. You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head as you opened it.

Inside was a stunning necklace with a rare gemstone. For a moment, you were speechless. His taste had completely taken you by surprise, you hadn’t thought a warrior like Cassian would pick out something so elegant. “This is…beautiful,” you said softly, unsure of what else to say as you leaned in and wrapped your arms around him in thanks.

When you pulled back, his grin widened, and you knew what was coming even before he opened his mouth. “I thought about how good that stone would look between your breasts and couldn’t resist getting it,” he muttered, his tone dripping with playful mischief.

Your jaw dropped, your face heating as you stared at him, momentarily speechless. Then, you elbowed him lightly in the ribs. “You’re absolutely shameless.” Though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Cassian only laughed, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied smirk. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Rhysand

Rhys whisks you away to the top of the House of Wind, Velaris glittering below you. With a wave of his hand, a small box appears in his grasp. “Go on, open it,” he urges, his violet eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You do as he says, carefully unwrapping the box to reveal a pendant with a tiny glowing star encased within. “Rhys, you shouldn’t have,” you murmur, awe and gratitude flooding your voice.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple before replying with a smirk and a wink. “Oh, that’s nothing…wait till you see what I’ve got planned for you in the bedroom.”

You give him a pointed look before shaking your head. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he quips, his smirk widening. “And I don’t just mean in the bedroom. There are more gifts waiting for you there. Come on, let’s go.” He takes your hand and begins leading you downstairs, his excitement barely contained.

“Rhysss!” you groan, pouting slightly as he tugs you along. “I told you, I don’t need gifts. Having you is enough.”

He pauses mid-step, turning to cup your cheek and pinch it playfully. “I know, darling,” he says softly. “But I can’t help it. I want to shower you with gifts and spoil you like you deserve. After all, you are my greatest gift, and there’s nothing I can do that could ever compare.”

Lucien

Feyre had invited Lucien to this year’s Winter Solstice, and although his duties kept him busy, he had agreed to come, if only for the chance to spend more time with you, his mate. Though you hadn’t accepted the bond yet, you hadn’t rejected it either. This was all new to you, and Lucien had resolved to give you as much time and space as you needed, not wanting to push or make you uncomfortable in the slightest.

He had missed you. It had been months since he last saw you, back in the summer. So when you descended the stairs that evening, his heart drummed wildly in his chest. His amber eye and russet gaze tracked your every step until your eyes met his. You greeted him with a polite nod, and he returned it, the faintest of smiles playing on his lips.

Throughout the evening, he lingered on the edge of the festivities, watching you from afar as the others exchanged gifts, laughed, and drank. Finally, mustering his courage, he approached you, his palms damp with nervousness.

“I came across this during my travels,” he muttered softly, handing you a small package wrapped in elegant paper. “I thought you might like it.” Curiosity piqued, you unwrapped the gift, revealing a vintage wooden box. Inside lay a pair of earrings, their intricate design unlike anything you’d ever seen. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the kind of artistry that carried stories within its details.

When you looked up, you found him watching you intently, his gaze warm but hesitant. “It’s nothing compared to what you deserve,” he murmured in a low tone. “But…it’s from the heart.” A small, almost shy smile curved his lips. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before speaking. “I have a small gift for you too.”

His brows furrowed in confusion as you disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, you returned, holding a single cupcake on a small plate. Handing it to him, you said softly, “I hope you like chocolate. I baked it myself.”

At first, Lucien didn't react. Then realization dawned on his face. “Oh. OH!” His voice rose slightly as the significance of your gesture hit him. “Is this wh- are you aware of what this means in fae tradition?”

You nodded, a faint blush dusting your cheeks.

His breath hitched. “Are you sure?” He searched your gaze for any hesitation. But when you smiled and nodded again, his resolve melted.

Lucien carefully picked up the cupcake, taking a deliberate bite. His eyes closed briefly as he savored it before opening again, now glowing with warmth and joy. “It’s delicious,” he said, his voice dipping slightly as he stressed the word. “Thank you.”

Setting the cupcake aside, he stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “May I?” he whispered.

When you nodded again, he closed the small distance between you, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss so soft and full of longing it stole your breath. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise, a declaration, and the sealing of the bond he had waited so long for.

Eris

Being Rhysand’s sister and Eris being Beron’s son made your relationship…complicated, to say the least. Some days, you couldn’t stand the sight of each other. Other days, the tension simmered so hot it was impossible to think of anything but dragging each other to the nearest bed…or any available surface to fuck.

Eris, of course, would never admit it, not even to himself, but he was in love with you.

On Winter Solstice, he sent an urgent message demanding you meet him halfway between your courts, in a clearing deep in the forest. His tone had been curt, and you’d feared the worst as you rushed to the meeting spot.

When you arrived, he stepped out of the shadows with his usual smirk. Before you could say a word, he tossed something at you. “Catch.”

Instinct kicked in, and you lunged to catch the small package before it hit the ground. Straightening, you narrowed your eyes at him, holding the elaborately wrapped gift in your hands. “This was the ‘urgent’ matter?” Eris shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His gaze flickered to the horizon, refusing to meet yours. “It’s nothing big. Don’t read too much into it. Just…open it.” His voice was smooth, nonchalant, but you could sense the tension beneath it. He stood rooted in place, his head tilted as though he wasn’t watching you, but you could feel the weight of his focus. A part of him feared you’d hate it. Another part clung to the hope that you’d like it, that your eyes would sparkle and you’d smile, that rare, genuine smile he secretly craved.

Slowly, you unwrapped the package. Inside was a bracelet, simple yet elegant, crafted with the kind of skill only found in the Autumn Court. The small fire-red gemstone set into it caught the light like a glowing ember, warm and alive.

And there it was…that flicker of surprise, the soft curve of your lips, the quiet joy in your eyes. He’d found what he was looking for, and it was enough. That moment was his true gift this Solstice.

But when you glance up to thank him, he was already turning away. “Happy Solstice,” he murmured, his voice cool and distant, as though the gift hadn’t taken him weeks to choose.

Before you could respond, he winnowed out, disappearing into the night without a backward glance. Because if he’d stayed, if he’d looked into your eyes again, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to stop himself.

[readychilledwine]

Free Will

Eris Arranged Marriage – Drabble

Summary - Eris knew his father would purchase him a bride sooner rather than later.

Warnings - Arranged Marriage, alcohol use.

A/N - From one Vandaddy to the next.. May do more with this. May let it die. Too early to tell.

🔥Eris Masterlist🔥Master Masterlist🔥

You were beautiful, Eris would give his father that. Glowing skin enhanced from the moonlight kissing you. He had found you sitting in a window, looking outside like a bird now trapped in a glorified cage. You had disappeared from the festivities taking place, and he was tasked with finding you.

“How miserable,” he walked closer, noticing the half empty bottle of wine beside you. “Drinking alone in the dark, wife? You should have invited me. Mother knows I hate a boring celebration."

Your eyes met his, your cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy, “Did not realize my oh so powerful new husband would take pleasure in dark corners and," you paused to lift the bottle, squinting to read it. “Pomegranate wine.”

Eris only chuckled and took the bottle, drinking straight from it. “My favorite, actually.” He leaned against the window ypu sat in. He followed your eyes, noticing you were looking over the garden. “They say pomegranate is the origin of sin and the seasons.”

“The tales of the Dark Mother and Forest God. I know it well,” you held your hand out. Your new husband took another drink before handing it back to you, bottle now passing between you. “Legend says the Dark Mother had found him so beautiful she lured him to her with a snake of many colored scales. Once she had him in his poison garden, she gave him a choice.”

“Eat the pomegranate and stay with her,” Eris finished. “Or watch as she slowly killed the lands he loved. But by eating the seeds..” He smirked for you to finish.

“He upset the Mother. So she cursed the lands of the North with the seasons and turned his home into a barren land of ice and snow, his sister's into one haunted by rot and neverending harvest, his brothers into one trapped in the beginning of the rebirthing cycle and storms, and his parents in dead heat and drought.”

Eris looked you up and down. "They say the female of the species is always more deadly than the male." Eris sighed, “But his choice also unleashed freewill among the fae.”

"But it cost us the ability to connect with our true forms and shift. That power is now heavily reserved," Your voice seemed empty. As if the thought of that piece of you that was missing was more than just an animal but a symbol of freedom.

He studied you again, you leaned in to look into his eyes, “I do wonder what kind of animal would have been behind your skin, my wife. Are you a snake leading me to a trap? Are you a bird with clipped wings, desperate to fly away? Or are you a lioness, stalking and waiting for her chance to kill?”

Your lips twitched up. “You'll find I associate heavily with the symbol of our court, husband,” you looked him up and down, the tension between you two growing within every second. He could see it. He would see something cunning and intelligent hiding behind those drunk eyes.

A fox fits you well, and now, you were invading an enemy den.

Eris gave a smile that made chills run down your spine, “I think we will get along, y/n.” He took another swig of the wine finishing the bottle before picking you up and forcing you to hold his hand. “Our party awaits, my little wife. And more pomegranate wine.”He lead to you the ballroom, loud music and dancing in full swing as the fae celebrated the marriage of their heir apparent.

Eris poured two glasses, handing one to you, “To free will, my fox.”

The words were an offering, an understanding.

Your glass touched his, arms linking to drink as ceremony required. “To free will, husband.”

[potatoplace]

Game Night

💖 Valentine's Collection 2025: Monopoly 💖

Nessian x Reader | Azris x Reader | Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Game night with your partners means three things: chaos, anger, and sexual tension.

Warnings: daddy kink oops, don't think there's anything else tho

Words: 1,224

Author's Note: this was soooo soo sOoo much fun omg. I loved Nessian's the most, cause they're the ones I had in mind when I made the poll 😂 and uhhh the Azris one... got uh. More daddy-y than I'd planned but I'm not mad. I hope you guys like it!! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍❤️🤍

“No, no, NO!” Cassian yelled as the dice stopped on doubles sixes, moving him from your hotel on Marvin’s Garden to Nesta’s hotel on Boardwalk.

“Yes!” Nesta cheered, a fist pumping into the air. “You’re going down, pretty boy!”

Cassian rifled through his stack of money that had already been cut into heftily from his last turn, leaving him with just ones and fives, his cheeks red. “I swear, Nes, you’re going to land on Illinois and then Pennsylvania Avenue and give me everything back.”

“Fat chance, Cassie, I’m going to bleed. You. Dry,” Nesta hissed, her hands clawing at the edges of the table.

“Okay, let’s cool it a little bit, guys,” you interjected, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that was quickly building to an unstoppable point.

As usual.

“Yeah, Nes, take you turn,” Cassian sneered at her, and you shot him a dirty look. He at least had the decency to look ashamed for five seconds, that’s more than he normally would.

Nesta rolled the dice, Cassian chanting for her to get a seven under his breath, only to yell when she rolled an eight, skipping right past his hotel on Illinois in favor of one of her railroads. “Would you look at that, Cassian, I seem to owe no money to anyone at this table.”

You sighed and scooped up the dice, hoping that your turn would help distract them from each other. Your hands shook the dice and loosed them, landing on a solid four - leaving you on free parking, which currently held over $1000 in Nesta’s income tax landings.

“Oh, you bitch!” Nesta yelled at you, though her hand landed on your arm gently, reassuring you that she may be loud, but she’s not truly angry with you.

You giggled at her as you raked in your new stack of bills, your wealth nearly equal with hers now.

“Oh, fuck me,” Cassian groaned. He never liked when the two of you were on top, as you rarely made someone go bankrupt, and Nesta would loan you money if you needed some - you are her princess are all. Meaning Cassian would have mercy from you, but all of Nesta’s mercy had been given to you.

“I can certainly arrange that, if you can’t pay for Boardwalk the next time you land on it,” Nesta said with a smirk, her eyes promising that she would offer such a trade.

“Over my dead body,” Cassian said, grabbing the dice again and rolling a ten, landing him at Nesta’s hotel on Connecticut Avenue. “FUCK!”

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

“That will be $1000, Y/N,” Eris said from across the table, his amber eyes glinting as he watched you fidget in your seat.

You bit your lip as you looked from him to your stack of money, knowing that you had less than half of what you needed, and you’d already traded away most of your properties. “Can I owe you one?” You asked, knowing the limited likelihood that he would agree.

“No, that isn’t the rule of the game, bunny. You either pay up or go bankrupt, I’m sorry to say,” he said, though his smirk told you he wouldn’t be sorry. After all, whenever you went bankrupt you chose one of them to cuddle with until they finished battling it out.

You turned your gaze to Azriel, his hazel eyes already trained on you.

“How much do you need, bunny?”

You smiled and bit your lip before counting the money that you had left. “Uhm… $637?” Azriel counted out $700 for you and held his hand out, taking it back before you could take it. You rolled your eyes and stood up, going over by him to give him a long kiss, your mouths only separating when Eris coughed, annoyed. “Thank you, Azzie,” you said, giving him another kiss, on his cheek this time. “Here you go, Eris,” You said brightly, handing him the money.

“You know, it’s against the spiritual rules of the game to bail someone out, Azriel,” Eris said as he grabbed the dice.

“But she’s so adorable Eris, especially after you’ve rejected her offer of paying you back later. I mean,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your head so you were facing him. “Could you say no to that face?”

Eris opened his mouth, but you slid your lip into a pout and squinted your eyes like you were going to cry.

He sighed. “No, I can’t. Come on, Y/N, just give up and come sit on daddy’s lap, hmm?” The request sent heat straight to your core, and your cheeks that Azriel was still holding onto.

“Or you could come sit on my lap, babygirl,” Azriel said, turning your face back to him. “I did just save you from bankruptcy.”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them.

“No, I think I’m fine for now, after all, I’m not bankrupt thanks to you, daddy,” you said softly, relishing in the light blush that dusted Azriel’s cheeks.

“See, Az? She does it every time!” Eris insisted, finally shaking the dice in his hands. “Just wait, you’ll be in my lap in no time, bunny.”

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

“Ah, shit,” Cassian groaned as you landed on Pennsylvania Avenue, where Azriel had just put up a hotel. “Do you have enough money to pay for that, baby?”

You rolled your eyes at him. You were doing far better than he was this game, having slightly tricked him and Azriel into giving you all of their pieces of lower-priced property, leaving you owning two sides of the board, utilities and railroads included.

“I think I do, Cassie, thank you though,” you smiled at him, pulling out the money that you owed Azriel.

“Thank you,” Azriel said quietly as he put the money away in the proper order, both of you sharing the vast majority of the money. “Time for you to go, Cassian. And you should be asking if you have enough money,” he pointed out, waving at the part of the board he was on: your territory.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine, I’m going to skate by on chance and community chest, brother,” Cassian boasted as he picked up the dice and rolled them.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him landing on one of your hotels a moment later, biting your lip to keep your joy from being too obvious. You’d always found it funny how confident Cassian was, even when he sucked at the game like he did with monopoly.

“Pay up, big guy,” you said, extending a hand.

“I don’t-“ he sighed loudly. “Fuck you, Azriel!”

“What did I do?” Azriel asked with a brow raised.

“Well, I can’t say that to Y/N, now can I?! So fuck you!”

Az rolled his eyes at him. “Can you pay her, or not?”

“Yeah, Cassie, it’s only right to pay your debts,” you teased as he began counting out money, coming up a couple hundred short. He grumbled as he picked off a few houses from his monopoly, and pushed the money into your hands.

“Thank you, Cass,” you said, catching his eyes. “You know I love you, no matter how poor you are in monopoly, right?”

He let out an amused huff, and grinned. “If you love me so much, will you give me one of your monopolies?”

“Not a chance.”

🧡💙🤍❤️🩶

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad

[wildandsmile]

𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 ☆ 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

🗯️ cassian, lucien, tamlin, azriel, rhysand, eris. spanking, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, degradation, oral(receiving), sub x dom relationships, wrote this at like 2am so it’s not the greatest thing i’ve ever produced. enjoy!

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 —

• loves to tease you, especially while you’re busy.

• reading? no you’re not. cassian is busy chatting away in your ear, whispering filthy things that would make asmodeous blush.

• takes you anywhere and everywhere, especially when you two first mated. it drove everybody else crazy.

• likes quickies. nuts inside you everytime.

“cass.. cassie! slow down, slow down!” cassian groans as he ruts into you, hard and fast and so perfectly deep you feel like you can touch the stars blurring your vision. “shhh, baby.. you’re gonna get us caught. is that what you want? want rhysie to see me fucking your brains out?” he held you up against the lounge room wall, the lounge room that was less than two doors down from rhysand’s office, where he was holding a serious meeting. a meeting cassian was supposed to be at, but he had ditched to bury himself inside your welcoming pussy. “shit.. squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” he groaned into your ear, keeping a firm grip on your ass. “cassian..” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders, near his wings. a shiver ran down his spine and he gave a particularly hard thrust into your heat, and you cried out loudly. cassian slapped his hand over your mouth, resting his forehead against yours. “fuck. gonna cum inside you.” he grunted, roughly shoving himself into your dripping heat over and over again. his thumb caught against your clit and he began rubbing feverish circles against it, drawing you to an orgasm. you cried against his hand as his hips stuttered and he emptied himself inside you, filling your womb. “fuck.. that’s my girl.”

𝐫𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 —

• loves fucking you slow.

• worships your body from head to toe, kissing every single part of you until you’re shaking and begging him to make you cum.

• EATS. IT.

• biggest munch alive. would happily spend the next two thousand years of his life buried between your thighs with his tongue lapping against your cunt.

• doesn’t like quickies but will do them if you need. knows how to make you cum in twenty seconds flat.

• praises you like crazy.

rhys laid you down on your shared bed gently, pressing a kiss against your ankle. you sat up on your elbows and gazed at him as he unlatched the hook on your high heel, pulling it off and soon doing the same with the other. “rhys.. what’s the matter?” you asked softly, reaching out to run your hand through his soft hair. “am i not allowed to love my wife?” he discarded your heels and crawled on top of you, pulling the skirt of your dress up over your hips and letting it rest on your stomach. he got down and pressed his lips against your clothed cunt, kissing above your clit. he reveled in the way your body reacted to his touch, twitching and relaxing under him. “i love you..” you muttered. he smirked against your heat, hooking his fingers over the waistband of your panties and pulling them down to your ankles, discarding them as he did your heels. “i know.” he went for your clit immediately, making you moan and arch your back. “you’ll never question my love for you when i’m done.”

𝐚𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 —

• shadows.

• knows your body like the back of his hand

• is canonically a slut. knows how to please a woman but can get impatient.

• will fuck you with half his dick to get you used to him at first.

• chokes you. loves seeing your pretty throat underneath his hand.

• his shadows whisper in your ears and trail along your body while he defiles you.

• begs you to sit on his face.

it’s cold all around, but the temperature doesn’t reach your skin. azriel’s shadows wrapped around your naked body, slinking over your breasts and dipping between your legs as azriel’s large hands held your thighs open. he positioned himself between your legs, reaching one hand to begin jerking himself off. his gaze roamed over your supple flesh, arched back and glossy lips looking so perfect for him. he had eaten you out prior, making sure you were relaxed and wet enough to take him. “ready?” he groaned, finding it increasingly difficult to restrain from touching you. “yes..” he slipped inside of you immediately, slowly pressing each inch inside of you. the stretch hurt in such a good way. you’d never fully get used to the feeling of him. “shit.. good.. that’s good. you’re taking me so well, princess.” he groans as his shadows swirl around your neck. it’s imposing, an arousing threat. azriel places his hand over your throat and squeezes gently. “like that?” he asks. you whimper as he begins picking up the pace, fucking into you feverishly. “like that, huh? you like being fucked like this?” he asks repeatedly, but you can’t respond. can only nod and whimper and choke on your moans. “good.. take it.”

𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧 —

• rough but gentle and romantic sometimes.

• loves being buried inside of you.

• prefers to fuck in the bedroom but will take you out in the garden.

• loves it when you say his name. chooses you every calanmai but refuses to marry you.

• loves spanking your ass.

“say my name, baby.” he growls, his grip on your hips borderline bruising as he ruts into you from behind. he lands a slap against your ass cheek, leaving a red print. “say it.” “tam! tamlin..!” you cry out, face-down-ass-up for your high lord. “fuck.. yeah, baby. takin’ my cock so good. made for it.” he mumbles from behind you, the sound of your wet cunt and his pelvis slapping against your ass filling the room. the bed lurched forward each time he thrusted into you, filling you up perfectly, nearly kissing your cervix. he leaned forward and pinched your clit, making you jerk and cry out. “cum for me, baby. now. cum for me.” he growls, picking up speed and railing you so hard you felt that your back would give. your cunt clenched around him so hard you were seeing stars, but what sent you over the edge was one more swipe over your clit and one more swat at your ass. you fell apart on his cock, spasming as he emptied himself inside of you. he stayed sheathed in your cunt for a few moments before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your temple. “good girl.. did so good for me.” he wrapped his arms around you and the feeling of his breath on your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “love you, baby.”

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧 —

• the most gentle and attentive lover EVER.

• won’t cum unless you do.

• he whimpers.

• charming, so charming. got you to fall in love with him by weaving you a bracelet made of dandelions.

• praises you sooo much. is absolutely pussy whipped and head over heels for you.

• big dick. fucks with fire in his veins. is always warm.

“are you okay?” lucien asks. he was above you in the sprawling grass of the autumn court, in one of the autumn estate’s many gardens. he caged you between his arms as you lied on your back in the soft grass, amongst the leaves. the soft breeze brushed past your naked bodies, making your nipples peak. “yes.. i’m perfect, lucien.” you leaned forward to press your lips against his smooth, sun-kissed skin as he gently thrusted into you, sighing and mewling in pleasure. you embraced each other as he picked up the pace a bit, keeping a steady balance between going fast and deep. you moaned, a serene feeling spreading over your body, making you smile. his hand intertwined with yours as his cock began twitching inside of you. “god.. beautiful, i’m gonna cum.” you squeezed his hand as he leaned down to kiss your neck, sucking it gently. you smiled like a fox, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “let’s cum together.” and that you did. your words pushed him over the edge and he pulled out as you reached your peak, spilling his load all over your stomach and beneath breasts. he was breathing hard as he laid himself next to you, gathering you up in his arms. “i love you.” you smiled. “i love you too, lucie. but you’re crushing my leg.”

𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐬 —

• breeds. you.

• LOVES to fuck you on his fathers throne.

• loves to parade you around the autumn court and take you with him when he goes to visit the night court. you’re just so pretty, how could he not show off his beautiful mate?

• is surprisingly gentle and caring behind closed doors. is obsessed with you.

• tits. loves tits. basic boy. boobs = happiness.

“there you go.. ride me, whore. fuck.” eris’ calloused hands grasped roughly at your boobs as you rode him, making you moan and whimper. “eris..” you mewled. he grunted and moved his hands down to your hips. he gripped them and began thrusting upwards into you, hard. the sound of your wet cunt reverberated against the walls, echoing around the throne room. eris took you in his father’s throne for the third time that week while beron was away attending business that neither of you cared to know the reason for. “fuck. you like that? like it when i fuck this perfect cunt?” he asked, tweaking your nipples between his fingers roughly before taking one into his mouth, sucking harshly. “yes!” you cried, grasping onto his shoulders as you slammed your hips down onto him each time he thrusted up. “that’s a good whore.. want me to fill your womb? make you bare my heir? huh?” you nodded your head, unintelligible nonsense about wanting to be a good incubator for him falling from your lips. he smirked as he watched you babble and felt your hips stutter as you neared climax, your walls tightening around him. “good.. take it, slut.”

[tadpolesonalgae]

They get turned on when you’re angry — headcanons

a/n: thank you 🩰 for this thought, and thank you anon for requesting it 🧡💛 (this is ever so slightly unserious, please accept my apologies)

warnings: starts out suggestive, derails into smut :)

Rhysand:

“You can’t keep insisting you’re the most handsome High Lord at the High Lord meetings, Rhys!”

You’ve got him sat on the edge of your bed as you scold him for his behaviour, Rhys waiting patiently as he watches you trying to ply the clips from your hair, your own patience wearing thin as frustration builds at their refusal to budge

“I mean really Rhys, I understand you’re no longer acting out a cruel persona, but a little tact, no? Just some discretion? Not cracking jokes left right and centre!”

You hiss as one of the clips snags on a strand of hair, cursing both him and the clip out under your breath

“Darling, will you please just allow me to—”

“Don’t you dare move, Rhysand.”

Colour warms the tan skin of his cheeks, eyes appreciatively running down the trail of your spine, heat gathering at the spankable curve of your hind. The tone you’d used…

“I know you think you’re charismatic and charming, but your arrogance is getting out of hand,” you continue, oblivious to the dark dip in his thoughts, “I suppose it’s inevitable when you have no one to keep you in check, but—”

“No one to keep me in check?”

You whirl on him, hair at last free and unbound, whipping over your shoulder as you turn to him

He’s undone the top most buttons of his shirt, leaned back on the bed, long legs parted—not at all ashamed of the reaction he’s having to the sharp, clipped tone you’d been using on him

“Rhysand!” You hiss, “I’m trying to…”

But he’s not hiding anything, arousal heating the glimmering bond that lies between you, skin tingling with awareness as warmth pools in your belly

“What was it you said again? That I have no one to keep me in check?” He muses, hand shifting over the muscle of his thigh to the obvious hardness between his legs. “No one to remind me of my place?”

“Rhysand,” you warn, “we have a dinner tonight, do not…” but you trail off when he palms himself through the fitted fabric of his trousers, a low groan coming from the back of his throat.

You pry your tongue from the roof of your mouth, delicately licking over dried lips, an action he marks eagerly. “I suppose you could serve being taught a lesson to two…”

Cassian:

“Cass, hurry up! We’re going to be late! Again!”

Really, you would have thought as a General he would have excellent time management skills and would never struggle with being late. And usually, that’s true. But something about going out to dinner to see his family just sends all of that training out the window

“Cassian?” You question, leaning over the banister to call up to your mate’s room. “Cassian, are you nearly ready?”

A series of knocks are landed to your front door, and you blanch, wondering if it’s another pair thinking of walking with you to the River House. But when you open it, you’re greeted with a proudly grinning Cassian, wings tucked in tight against the chill breeze

He must have flown out the window and round to the front again.

“Cassian!” You snap, “I was stressing! Why can’t you just please be on time and save me the anxiety?”

He opens his mouth, pride gleaming in his eyes at what he no doubt thinks is a clever trick, but the amusement has already seeped from your bones.

“For goodness sake,” you mutter, “you haven’t even—” You push up onto your tiptoes, leaning flush against him for support as you set straight a curled lock that was blown the wrong way, flopping to the wrong side of his head

You huff impatiently, settling back onto the flats of you feet, lightly smacking your hand over his chest as you reassess him. “Right. Good. Let’s go.”

“Sweetheart, don’t worry,” he tries, realising too late you’re genuinely bothered, agitation zinging down the bond. “They won’t even—”

“Cassian, I am not in the mood at the moment,” you snap sharply. “How many times have I told you. We need to be ready to leave half an hour before hand. You’re a General for crying out loud, put your knowledge to good use.”

You’ve never snapped like that before at him. He knows you get a little tightly wound when it comes to time management, but never anything like this. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten your gears turning like that. But your arms have crossed over your chest, drawing his attention to the dip in the neckline, a little further than usual. The strict set of your brows, and the disapproving cut of your mouth…

He zones back in when you click your fingers in his face, “are you even listening to me? For Mother’s sake Cassian, will you at least pay attention when I’m talking to you?”

“I’m paying attention,” he manages, caught off guard by the arousal that’s stirring in his stomach at the terseness of your question. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t. Now hurry up and let’s—”

“Don’t cut me off like that,” he breathes lowly, pupils dilated as he stares down at you. The rise and fall of your chest as you glare impatiently…holding your ground…

“Cassian!” You inhale sharply as his large palm snakes around your waist, pulling you into his heat, nosing at your neckline, his scent wrapping around you, and— “Cassian…” you whisper, back curving with arousal

“Where’d that attitude go?” He asks breathlessly. “Bring it back for me. Won’t you do that, sweetheart?”

“Cass…we’re going to be late…” you manage to get out, knocked off your feet by the abrupt display of hunger

“We won’t,” he murmurs, pressing hot kisses to your throat as he works his way down. “Besides, what were those thirty minutes originally put in place for?”

You flush at the reminder—at how frequently things like this would happen so you would both agree to prepare in advance in the case of certain appetites arising

“Though if you want to keep using that tone on me…” his hips roll against yours, pressing the hard outline of his cock into your tummy, groaning at how it feels. “I don’t think I’d mind…”

Azriel:

“Azriel.” You hiss, gripping his hand by the wrist, tight. “Don’t even think about it.”

The shadows scuttle away from beneath your skirts, while the others peer up at the painting Helion’s currently showing off.

“You can’t just put your hands on me whenever you feel mildly compromised,” you whisper sharply, hoping the others won’t notice how you’re lagging behind.

“He just invited you to his bed,” Azriel growls lowly, pupils contracted as he stares razors into the High Lord of Day’s turned back. “And you hardly mustered up a refusal.”

“I was being polite. And of course the offer wasn’t serious,” you hiss back. “Besides, he’s invited you to bed plenty of times, and you never see me getting all territorial about it.”

“I wish you would,” he breathes, voice roughening as he flicks his wrist out of your grasp in favour of gripping your hip lightly, pulling you a little closer. “At least then he’d get the idea.”

“He’s doing this because you’re making it so apparent we’re recently mated,” you snap, “obviously he’s going to enjoy at last being able to get a rise out of you.”

“I need him to know that you’re mine.”

Heat flutters between your legs, suddenly feeling breathless. Your tongue flicks out over dry lips, and that familiar warmth zips down the bond, still so new and sensitive to every change, keyed to one another.

“You keep that sort of nonsense in the bedroom, Azriel,” you manage to hiss to him. “I do not belong to you. I am your mate.”

You can feel even on your side how overpowering, how dominating those instincts are, made worse by the unwelcome and incessant advances from another male. Can feel how he’s straining under the urge to claim you in a very obvious way.

“You belong to me, as I belong to you,” he growls lowly, darkness thickening at his back as those great wings flare menacingly.

“If you belong to me then I command you to be quiet and behave,” you hiss, the crackling tension between you having you snap, frustration simmering beneath your skin as you’re forced to keep your hands off each other until this bothersome tour comes to an end.

It seems to be the last straw for Azriel, however.

He releases a snarl that sounds mixed with a groan, starving lust barreling down the bond as he’s no longer able to keep his side entirely concealed, large palm shackling your wrist as he drags you away from the others, too hungry to wait

The command had been his breaking point, arousal burning through his blood at the sharpness you’d used

He hopes you’ll use it on him again, even once the initial frenzy has at last faded…

Eris:

“Either make me cum, or I’ll find someone else who will,” you hiss, nails scraping over his scalp, gripping the silky locks in your fist

“I wouldn’t recommend that, fawn,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing his body tight to yours, so you’re trapped between him and the wall as his thigh is pushed flush with your heat. “Besides, you’re already dripping all over me. You think you’ll be able to find anyone else who’ll give you the intensity of one I can?”

“I don’t care at this point,” you counter. “Either give it to me or I’ll have to use something else.”

The impatience catches him off guard. You’re usually so sweet and docile—he wonders where the spark has come from. It seems rather fun to tamper with

“Like your fingers? Your pillow?” He asks, voice deepening as he presses his hips to yours, grinding into the softness of your tummy as you try to rub over his thigh, to get some kind of pleasure. “I’d love to see you try,” he whispers breathlessly

“Fuck you,” you hiss, heat fluttering between your legs, mind turning dizzy with hunger as your arms wrap tight over his broad shoulders, leg weaving round his to try and get him closer—

“Quit it,” you snap, flame blazing in your eyes as your lip curls when he pulls his thigh back, leaving you without stimulation. “You’re being a fucking pain,” you hiss, tugging on his hair

His eyes flutter, hips bucking against you with hunger as he dips down, attacking your neck with kisses and nips, arousal having him firmly within its grasp at that demand

You moan at the sensations, back arching up into him as you feel the pronounced outline of him against you, twitching as he grinds against you

“Fuck, Eris…” you pant, so near the verge of pleasure.

“Get on the bed,” you whisper, hands shakily pushing him away, so he’s stood to his full height, looming over you

When he doesn’t move, you snarl, too impatient to wait for his games. “I said get on the bed.”

The intensity of his arousal hits you then, practically knocking you clean off your feet, both of you seemingly taken aback at just how heavily affected he is

“You like this?” You breathe, pulse spiking as you peer up into his eyes, irises almost fully eclipsed by hunger

He doesn’t need to answer as your hand slips between the two of you, cupping him, feeling just how hard he is, how hungry he is… You curse lowly

“Oh you’re going to pay for every damn teasing thing you’ve ever done to me,” you whisper over his mouth, pushing for him to walk back until his legs come into contact with the bed

“And you’re going to pay tenfold.”

Lucien:

“I just don’t get it, Lu,” you sigh frustratedly, pacing back and forth as he watches you from the plush armchair. “I’ve tried so many different things, she just seems to have it out for me.”

“Are you sure you’re not overthinking this?” He suggests wryly. “We both know you have a habit of assuming the worst when it comes to how other people perceive you.”

“I’m not overthinking this one,” you snap. “She blatantly cut me off and turned her back on me during tea the other day. I don’t know what it is other than she just dislikes me.”

“And wouldn’t it simply be the end of the world if one female didn’t absolutely adore you,” he drawls, stretching out in his seat, long legs crossing at the ankle

“Don’t take that tone with me,” you say sharply, spinning around to face him, glaring

Lucien stiffens under the fire in your gaze, the anger simmering away as you stare him down, surprised by how hot his skin feels beneath that look

“I know for a fact I haven’t done anything wrong this time—and I’m certain of that,” you huff, beginning to pace back and forth, allowing him a moment to grapple with the reaction searing through his body

“Why is she trying to bring me down? I don’t understand it. I’ve never done anything, said anything that could harm her standing in some way, so why is she trying to bring me down?”

He listens to the harsh puff of breath, the sharp sighs coming from your lips, the clean cut of your steps as you spin at the end of a pace—pulse increasing as he slips a long finger beneath his collar

“We females are already at a disadvantage,” you go on, brow tightening now with anger, “can’t she understand that? We should stick together to help one another, not step on each other to further ourselves. It’s so backward! Why are you fighting against me when the problem is with the males in charge? Do you see what I mean? Lu? Lu—”

A hot flush warms your cheeks, thoughts instantly fading from your mind, replaced by the view before you

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, attempting to readjust the tightness of the already close-fitting riding trousers he wears. “Continue,” he manages thickly, “I’m listening.”

But you’re done with the conversation already. Done the second you looked at him, the outline of his arousal for you so clear and prominent

“I’m glad you are, but I’m certainly not,” you murmur, already walking over to him, putting yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as you pull your skirts up, feeling that delicious press between your legs

“I think I’m in need of a distraction anyway.”

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

[inkedinshadows]

For the requests: "I would certainly take all night" with Eris, please. I would be forever indebted to you. Can be smut or not, write it however you want! :)

Held in Firelight

Pairing: Eris x f!reader

A/N: Hi! No need to be indebted, don't worry! I just hope you'll like this bc I really liked this idea but I wrote it after six hours of class so it might not be my best work. I also don't know how to label it because it's a bit fluffy with a tiny sprinkle of angst and allusions to smutty bits? Idk idk I really like it tho

Warnings: arranged marriage, cheating (but the parties involved are aware so idk)

Word count: 1k

“I think he has a new lover.”

Your words cut through the comfortable silence that had settled over the sitting room. Eris raised a brow, but you continued to stir the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the swirling red liquid.

The silence stretched, broken only by the crackling embers in the fireplace. Eventually, he asked, “What makes you think that?”

You shrugged one shoulder. “He spent every night out this week. He doesn't do that if he's just sleeping around. He still comes home.”

Eris hummed, as if contemplating your answer.

These were your favorite moments—when Eris didn’t have court duties to attend to and could spend hours talking and drinking with you. It was your favorite way to ease the stress and tension of the life you had been forced into.

“He was out even two nights ago?”

You looked up at him. The firelight flickered on the side of his face, turning his hair into molten copper. You felt a sudden urge to reach across the couch and run your fingers through it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why do you ask?”

“It was your birthday,” he stated simply.

“So?”

He looked startled. “You really don’t care that he forgot?”

You sighed, setting your glass down. “Eris, he hasn't remembered my birthday in years.”

He didn’t reply, but his jaw clenched. You couldn’t tell if the flames in his eyes were just a reflection of the fire or if it was that simmering power of his.

With another sigh, you pressed on. “Let’s say he remembers,” you said. “Then what? You really believe he would spend the whole night with me, taking his sweet time to make me feel cherished, at least on my birthday?” You shook your head, the mere thought making you scoff. “No, I prefer it this way. He doesn't care about me, I don't care about him, and there's no point in pretending we do.”

Eris remained silent, his gaze fixed on the fireplace, his fingers clutching the stem of his glass so tightly you thought it might break. You knew he cared about you, that he hated your situation as much as you did, but even he couldn’t change it. Maybe once he became High Lord he’d banish arranged marriages and spare others from this fate, but it was too late for you.

Picking up your glass again, you tucked your legs beneath you and settled back against the pillows. You took a sip of wine, hoping that its rich taste might offer an excuse to change the topic, but you came up empty. You’d already commented on the flavor when he opened the bottle.

“I would certainly take all night.”

His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful, but when you turned to look at him, he was still facing away from you.

“What?” you blurted out. Surely, you had heard that wrong.

Finally, his eyes met yours, determined and unflinching. “I would take all night with you,” he repeated, “I would cherish you. And not just on your birthday.”

Your breath hitched. There had been a few lingering touches, a brush of fingers, words whispered after one too many glasses of wine. But never like this—so plain and blatant, so unguarded.

“Don't say that,” you murmured.

“Why not?” His eyes bore into you, pinning you in place. There was no escape—not that you wanted one. “We both want it.”

He was right. There was no arguing with that. Yet you still shook your head. “Eris, we can't.”

He moved closer. You didn’t resist when he took your glass and set it on the small table alongside his. An empty bottle stood next to an unopened one.

“Why not?” he asked again, his voice gentler now. “Just because you’re married? How many other females has he been with?”

Countless.

Maybe Eris was right about that too. Maybe you didn’t owe loyalty to a husband you had never wanted—a husband who had never been loyal to you. If he could have all the females he wanted, then maybe you could have the one male you wanted. The one person who always understood you, who never judged or mistreated you.

“When was the last time someone made you feel cherished?” Eris’s hand covered yours, his slender fingers intertwining with your own, squeezing once. “Made you feel good?”

You had never thought about your marriage in those terms. You had never wanted that union in the first place, so you had clung to the small things. Time away from your husband was good. You hadn’t shared a bed in a long time, and your conversations were awkward and stiff enough that the thought of intimacy hadn't crossed your mind in years. And you’d told yourself that was good enough.

But deep down, it had never really felt good.

Eris was still looking at you, his expression soft and understanding. As if he could see your every thought.

You looked away, unable to stomach it. “I don't know,” you finally whispered.

“Let me be that person.” He reached out, gently tilting your chin. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your eyes met again, and your resolve wavered. Then he brushed his thumb over your lips and spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“Let me love you.”

That word.

Love.

Your husband had never uttered it to you, nor had you to him. But hearing it from Eris… you knew he didn't mean just now—a stolen moment to carry in your heart. And that realization was the final push you needed.

You didn't know who moved first. One moment you were staring into each other's eyes. The next, your lips met.

He tasted like a wish come true after years of waiting.

You were done longing and yearning in secret, done pretending you didn't know what you truly wanted.

And as Eris loved you in front of the fireplace, you finally felt good. You felt cherished. And he took all night to make sure of it.

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1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[surielstea]

A cozy proposal

1k celebration request by @crossfandomslut

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eris can’t seem to contain his adoration for reader, resulting in a very sudden question.

Warnings: none, all fluff! :)

Word count: 1k

Eris had reluctantly left me this morning, giving me a drawn-out kiss before slipping from our bed and allowing me to fall back into my slumber.

When I awoke he was gone. It was no surprise, I knew he was going to be preoccupied with meetings all day, but after just a few hours I found myself fighting back the urge to break into that meeting room myself and rip him away from all those advisors who knew nothing more than he already did.

It was far past dinner when my bedroom door finally opened.

I perked up, the book in my hands falling into my lap as I peered at the doorway, my boyfriend leaned against it with a tired expression.

His eyes met mine immediately, a gentle smile gracing his lips. I return it, closing my book with a concluding thud. "Hi," He murmurs and my small smile breaks into a full-out grin, unable to control it.

"Hi," I reply cheekily, getting up from my large leather chair and bounding over to him, the book still clutched in my hands. "You tired love?" I ask, reaching up and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt with my free hand.

He nodded slowly, an obvious sign of his exhaustion— yet his auburn eyes didn't miss a single movement I made.

"How about we lay down and I can read to you? Does that sound okay?" I suggest and his eyes soften into a certain look that only a lover could achieve.

"I love you," He murmurs and I chuckle, grabbing his hand.

"Is that a yes?" I raise a brow, slowly guiding him towards our bed while he finishes unbuttoning his shirt on his own.

"How could I ever say no?" He quips while I settle down onto the large bed, the mattress immediately heating the moment he slips in next to me.

I relished in the warmth, my bones recovering from the cold chill of the winter months.

"You want me to go back to the beginning?" I ask, cracking open the book.

"Start from wherever you are, I just want to hear your voice," He hummed while pulling me into his side, my head coming to the crook of his neck and shoulder, his arm wrapping tightly around me.

I nod silently and then begin to read.

He stays silent the entire time, at one point I thought he had fallen asleep but only a moment later he shifted so his chin was settled atop my head. I wasn't even sure if he liked the book, but he seemed content enough with hearing me talk to let me continue.

After a few chapters he finally spoke up, and the words were so sudden I hadn’t even recognized what it was he said. I close the book and twist my head to look up at him. “What was that?” I ask, adjusting so I was laying atop him haphazardly, like he was a second mattress, my chin propping up on his sternum.

“Will you marry me?” He says, his words so casual I wondered if I heard him correctly.

I blinked, my breath halting as I stared into his golden eyes, always so honest when looking at me. My obvious answer was yes, but instead, I blurted out, “What?”

“Well,” He immediately began explaining himself. “I already started planning an extravagant proposal but, I don’t want to wait, I want you to be my wife now.” The tension between his brows increases as he rambles on.

“Eris,” I say with a soft tone, a gentle smile spreading over my features as I cup his face. This was real. He actually wanted me.

“We can still do a big proposal, it’s just— the orchestra I wanted is unavailable for the next two months,” He explains and my smile grows into something infectious, my grin uncontrollable at how much thought he wanted to put into this. “And I can’t make reservations at your favorite restaurant— and fuck I can’t talk when you smile at me like that.” He looks away and I giggle, leaning in and pecking his cheek, immediately gaining his attention back.

“I just want everything to be perfect for you,” He mutters softly and I swear my heart skips a beat.

“It already is,” I shake my head. “Just us, no fancy gimmicks or ballrooms, just us. There's nothing more I could possibly want.” I reassure and a small smile spreads across his lips.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t give you more,” He argues and I roll my eyes.

“Will you ever realize that you’re worth more than anything you could ever buy me, Vanserra?” I hum, my words slightly teasing but they did hold a twinge of sincerity to them.

He feigns a pout and I scoff, leaning forward and sealing our lips together.

The kiss was foreign, the warmth of his lips and that spark all remained familiar, but it was the silent recognition that this was the next step in our relationship that made it feel so different. We weren’t mates, at least not that I knew of. But there was something so beautiful about picking someone for who they were, not just some cauldron tethering us, but a choice, one made entirely of free will.

I pulled away first, and he slightly bit at my lip in protest of my lips leaving his but he allowed it after a moment nonetheless.

He looks at me, his eyes still having that glossy look of unabashed adoration.

“Well don’t leave me hanging,” He murmurs and my brows crease in confusion. “I still need an answer,” He shrugs and I make a look of surprise in realization.

“Oh, gods, yes Eris. Of course I’ll marry you,” I say with a wide smile and he mirrors it while releasing a deep sigh of relief.

“Thank the cauldron,” He murmurs before flipping us over and crashing his lips back onto mine while I giggled into his mouth, overwhelmed with happiness.

“We’ll find you a ring tomorrow, yeah?” He says while kissing down my neck and I nod, beaming up at him as I sling my arms around my fiancé’s shoulders.

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[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Lovers' Day

A/N: This is a collection of short drabbles of how I imagine ACOTAR men would celebrate Valentine's Day with their S/O. Enjoy!

Azriel

Azriel didn’t need words to show love. He never had. 

He let his actions speak for him, the way he always seemed to be there, anticipating your needs before you voiced them.

So when you woke up on Lovers’ morning, you didn;t think much of it. It was just another day. Azriel never made a fuss about things like this, and honestly, you had completely forgotten.

But Azriel, well, he never forgot anything when it came to you. And this time, he had planned ahead, with a little help from Rhys.

A week prior, Rhysand had informed you about an incoming mission. A simple infiltration, something requiring subtlety and mingling. The only strange thing was that Rhys had specifically told you to wear something nice, to blend in. It had seemed odd at the time, but you had dismissed it and agreed without question. 

Now, standing on the roof of the House of Wind, you found Azriel waiting for you, arms crossed, face unreadable. But instead of his usual Illyrian leathers, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.

You blinked. “Oh, you’re also going to blend in tonight? Not staying in the Shadows as always?” 

His lips twitched slightly, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes. “Something like that.” 

There was a subtle smile tugging at his lips, but he said nothing more as he extended a hand to you. You took it gladly, intertwining your fingers with his scared ones.

The familiar pull of winnowing wrapped around you, and when the world settled again, you found yourself atop one of the highest rooftops in Velaris. The city stretched out below like a sea of stars, the Sidra reflecting the soft glow of faelights. 

And in front of you-

A single candlelit table, dinner spread out with  precision only he could manage. Your favorite cuisine, appetizers, carefully arranged, two glasses of Rhysand’s most expensive wine waiting to be poured.

But that wasn’t all. On the ground beside the table lay a large, thick blanket, with two more folded ones resting at the side. A woven basket sat nearby, promising more hidden surprises.

You turned to face him, and he was already watching you standing so close his hands easily found your waist. He still hadn’t spoken much, letting the weight of the moment settle between you.

“Az…” Your voice was soft, uncertain. “What’s this?”

His thumb brushed over your hip, his gaze never leaving yours. “Do you like it?” His voice was low, almost hesitant.

You looked at the table again, at the small details that spoke volumes, how much he had thought about this, how much he knew you. “Th- this is for me?” Your brows furrowed in confusion as your mind caught up. “I thought we were supposed to be- wait, what about the mission?”

He shook his head, a small secretive smile playing on his lips. “There’s no mission, baby.”

It took a second for the words to sink in. “Then what about Rhy- Oh. Oh!” You turned back to him, realization dawning. “You planned this with him, didn’t you?”

His lips parted slightly, watching the way your face lit up in understanding. He nodded, his smile growing when he saw yours. “I wanted to do something for you.”

Something warm bloomed in your chest. Without thinking, you closed the small space between you, stepping onto your toes as you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s perfect,” you whispered against him.

His shadows curled around your wrist, a silent response, as he intertwined his fingers with your and led you toward the table. 

You glanced toward the blankets, curiosity flickering in your gaze. “What’re those for?” 

Azriel pulled out your chair, waiting for you to sit before settling in across from you. “I thought we could watch the stars together after dinner,” he admitted, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. “The blankets are just in case it gets cold.”

You smiled, warmth radiating through you, not from the candlelight or the wine, but from the male sitting in front of you, the one who loved you in the quietest, most breathtaking ways.

Cassian

Cassian wasn’t very good at keeping secrets, or throwing surprises. He was too impatient for that. 

So on Lovers’ Day, he burst into your room at the crack of dawn, grinning like a fool. “I challenge you,” he announced.

You groaned, barely awake, propping yourself up on your elbows as you blinked blearily at him. “Cassian,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes, “What in the Mother’s name are you on about? A challenge to what?” 

He folded his arms over his broad chest, expression smug. “An arm-wrestling match.”

You snorted. “Oh?” You raised a brow, an amused smile curving your lips. “Or…you could just tell me what you want, since we both know that you’d win.”

His grin widened as he sank onto the edge of the bed, looming over you. “A kiss.”

You rolled your eyes. “You get kisses every day, Cass. Come on, tell me what you really want.”

He leaned in, voice dropping to a husky murmur. “I want to take you out for breakfast.” His fingers brushed along your arm, making your skin prickle. “And then, I have a little gift for you.” His grin turned downright wicked as he added, “As for my gift…I want you.” 

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, low, certain, possessive. But before you could respond, he continued, pausing just long enough to let the anticipation build. “Lying in bed tonight,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “with nothing on but a ribbon…while you wait for me.”

Your jaw dropped. Then, without hesitation, you grabbed the nearest pillow and  threw it at him. Cassian caught it with ease, laughing as he tackled you onto the mattress, pinning you beneath him. His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head. “Happy Lovers’ Day, sweetheart,” he whispered, lips brushing over the curve of your neck. 

And judging by the way his body pressed against yours, you knew he wasn’t going to let you leave this bed anytime soon.

Rhysand

Rhysand had been smirking all evening.

He had something planned. He always did, but you weren’t sure what, and that was what made you suspicious.

The two of you sat comfortably in the living room, a deck of cards between you, glasses of expensive wine half-full. Rhys dealt the next round, his violet eyes twinkling with mischief.

“If you win,” he mused, “I’ll grant you one wish. Anything you desire.”

You arched a brow. “And if you win?”

His smirk widened. “You’ll have to find out.”

You narrowed your eyes, determined to beat him at his own game. But always, Rhys played dirty. Lingering touches, whispered words in your mind, distractions that made your thoughts fog over.

When he laid down his winning hand, you groaned, glaring at him. “Fine. What do you want?”

Rhys leaned in, brushing his lips against your ear, his voice a slow, sinful purr. “You. Every second of tonight, in whatever way I please.”

Your heart skipped a beat, throat tightening. Not that you were complaining. Or that he didn’t already have you however he pleased often. You swallowed hard, shrugging in what you hoped was a nonchalant gesture. “Fine.”

Before you could blink, darkness surrounded you, and the next thing you knew, you were standing on a balcony overlooking Velaris, the city glowing beneath the moonlight. Rhys stood behind you, his hands sliding to your waist as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. “Open your eyes.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the anticipation. Rhys always found a way to surprise you, ways to keep you on your toes. And you never knew whether the night would be one of slow seduction or raw passion.

Your lips parted in surprise as you took in the sight before you. “Oh.”

The bastard smirked. “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

You turned to him, mock glaring. “In my defense, you were insinuating something else.”

“You have a dirty mind, darling,” he teased, his grin widening as your glare deepened. 

Before you could retort, he leaned down again, his voice brushing against your skin like silk. “Don’t worry, you weren’t wrong.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before lowering his lips to your ear once more, drawing out every word, slow and deliberate. “But first, dinner.” A pause, then, just as your breath caught- “I’m feeding you before I feast on you.”

Your eyes widened, heat flooding your cheeks as you smacked his chest. “Rhys!”

He chuckled, catching your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Come on, darling,” he murmured, tugging you inside.

Lucien

Lucien was a hopeless romantic. He spoiled you every day and every night. But today, he was determined to spoil you even more. 

You woke to the softest of touches, featherlight kisses pressed to your face, the warmth of his lips trailing along your jaw. A gentle hum rumbled in his chest, the only indication of his presence as he continued his slow, unhurried worship.

It was only when you stirred, a sleepy murmur escaping your lips, that he finally spoke, his voice low and affectionate. 

“Good morning, my love,” he murmured against your skin.

You groaned softly, your voice husky with sleep. “Mm, morning.”

Lucien chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before tilting your chin up. “Come on, wake up. I’ve planned a lot today, starting with breakfast.”

When you finally opened, you saw a beautifully arranged tray sitting on the bedside table. Your favorite fruits and pastries, along with a delicate teapot filled with your preferred brew Everything meticulously placed, because of course Lucien would make sure the presentation was just as perfect as the taste. 

“Lucien,” you whispered, your heart clenching at the effort he had put into this. “You shouldn’t have.”

He only smiled, brushing his lips against yours in a slow, lingering kiss. “Of course, I should. You deserve nothing less.”

After breakfast, he led you outside, winnowing the two of you to the Dawn Court.

Your breath hitched at the sight, the golden hues of the rising sun reflecting off the crystal clear lakes, soft melodies of birdsong filling the air. Everything about the Dawn Court was serene, ethereal, and today, he had planned the most romantic day imaginable.

The day unfolded like a dream. Horseback riding through rolling meadows, Lucien effortlessly guiding the reigns with one hand while keeping you steady with the other. Then, a private boat ride on the lake, where he reclined lazily, one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand trailing absentmindedly through the water as you talked about everything and nothing at all.

As the day faded into twilight, Lucien winnowed you both to a quiet hilltop overlooking the sunset. The sky was a masterpiece of oranges and violets, the cool breeze tangling your hair as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, holding you close against his chest. His chin rested atop your head, his heartbeat steady against your back.

That night, after winnowing back home, he sat you down in front of the fireplace, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled a folded letter from his pocket. His amber eye flickered with emotion as he met your gaze. “I wrote this before we were together,” he admitted, handing it to you. “I never had the courage to send it.”

You carefully unfolded the paper, your breath catching as you read the words, his confession, his longing, the love he had harbored in silence for so long. The ink was slightly smudged, as if he had gone over the words countless times, his heart laid bare on the page.

When you finished, your eyes burned with unshed tears. “Lucien…”

But before you could say anything more, he reached for another paper,  his lips quirking into a shy smile. “That was then. But now…” He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. 

And then, he recited a poem. A poem he had written just for you. His voice was deep, smooth, steady, filled with adoration and reverence. Every line a promise, every syllable laced with love, By the time he finished, your heart was a mess of warmth and something else. You didn’t hesitate before launching yourself into his arms, kissing him deeply, hungrily, whispering his name like a vow.  Lucien chuckled against your lips, holding you tight, as if he never planned to let go.

“You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me,” he whispered, and you knew, he meant every word.

Eris

Eris did not do romance. 

He scoffed at the very idea of Lovers’ Day, calling it foolish, a ridiculous excuse for people to parade their affection like desperate fools. 

And yet- he still sent for you.

Later that evening, you arrive at your usual meeting point between your two courts. Eris was already there, leaning against a tree, arms crossed, his face carefully impassive.

He was fiddling with something- a small box, rolling it between his fingers.

 When he saw you approaching, he straightened forcing himself into stillness, his voice carefully nonchalant. “You came.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You said it was urgent. What’s wrong this time?” 

His smirk was slow, calculated. “It was urgent. I needed to see you.” He pushed off the tree, approaching you with lazy, confident steps, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed something deeper. He stopped just in front of you, holding out the small box. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

You raised a brow but took it anyway, fingers brushing over the carefully wrapped edges. “I thought you didn’t believe in this holiday?”

He scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t. I just…” His jaw ticked as he glanced away. “Wanted to get you something.”

A smirk curled on your lips. “Ah, and it just happens to be on this specific day?”

His eyes snapped back to you, sharp as embers. “Don’t push your luck.” 

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “You really called me all the way here for this? You’re starting to make a habit out of it. Next time, I might not-”

You didn’t get to finish the sentence. Because in a single, swift movement, Eris closed the distance, grasped your face, and crashed his lips against yours.

The heat of him was blistering, unbearable- yet you couldn’t pull away. Didn’t want to. 

The kiss was measured yet scorching, each calculated movement knocking the breath from your lungs. His mouth moved with slow precision, as if he were branding himself into you, as if he hated how much he wanted this but couldn’t stop himself.

When he finally pulled back, you smirked against his lips, murmuring, “Next time, lead with that.”

His grip tightened slightly on your chin, his thumb brushing over your jaw in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered, before tilting your head up and kissing you again, deeper this time, hungrier, as if he were making damn sure you’d never forget the way he tasted- like fire and temptation, like something dangerous you’d willingly burn for.

[g00seg1rl]

Change in Menu

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Summary: Eris had Rhysand go through lots of trouble to deliver Autumn Court freshly baked goods to the House of Wind to prepare for his visit. Too bad Rhysie had to go through all that work when Azriel’s ass ended up being so much more delectable.

A/N: Hello loves, this is a smutty drabble of Eris eating ass for the first time, and Azriel having his ass ate for the first time for @sjmprideweek Day Two: Firsts

All 1.2k slutty words are below the cut, I hope you enjoy 😘🫶

Forgotten flaky cheese pastries and deep mugs of oolong tea decorated the shellacked slate table in the center of the vast dining room. Azriel’s shadows delicately moved the meal to the side, complicit in Eris’s change of the breakfast menu.

Eris always appreciated those freaky fucks.

As Eris’s knees hit the ground with a soft thud, he pulled Azriel’s leather pants over the swell of his toned ass. He bit the fat of his left cheek, savoring the yelp the Shadowsinger couldn’t hold back.

He also just liked Azriel’s ass–always bouncing slightly as he walked, the small jiggling rebound after receiving an admonishing slap or appreciative spank and the glorious applaud he always got when Eris fucked him from behind. Just a wet clap, clap, clap that put a smile on his face and made his balls tighten with lust.

He let his cold rings bite into Azriel’s spread, fleshy cheeks, smirking at the pretty shiver he pulled from Azriel’s toned, arched body. He blew gently against Azriel’s fluttering hole, chuckling at the muffled whimper Azriel tried covering with his elbow.

“Oh don’t hide away, darling. Why allow me the honor of having such an intimate part of you if I can’t hear you scream when I take it?” Eris asked with an amused and rhetorical tone.

“I wouldn’t have said yes if I knew ass eating involved so much talking.”

“Liar.” Eris knew oh so entertainingly well that Azriel was enjoying his... oh what’s a demure way to put it? Verbal appetite… by the way his cock twitched when Eris called him darling and, more predictably, when Eris mentioned Azriel’s penchant for screaming. Or perhaps Azriel was aroused that Eris was making his intentions clearer than he typically did.

Azriel, the glorious brat that he was, shoved his ass back against Eris’s hands, bonking his hole sloppily against Eris’s nose.

Eris huffed and nipped the taut, sensitive skin between Azriel’s right thigh and cheek, licking the pain away softly before trailing his hot tongue towards Azriel’s clenching hole.

Eris had eaten out females before, many times for many hours– till the pretty, petite fae were writhing, shrieking and sopping as Eris had his unrelenting time boinking his tongue deep into their squelching cunts.

But he’d never tasted a male’s hole before, let alone someone as discreet and private as the Shadowsinger–now only an inch from Eris’s starved tongue. His mouth watered, and he let the spit pool on the edge of his tongue as he slowly, softly, deliberately pressed the tip of his wanton tongue to circle Azriel’s ever-so-unfurling hole.

Thankfully, Azriel had nothing to compare it to, having never let anyone’s mouth this close to his hole.

He didn’t dip into where he wanted to be- not yet. He repeated the roundabout path, adding more pressure each time, eliciting deeper moans from Azriel at each pass, each time he thought Eris was about to delve in.

They both moaned as Az relaxed enough to allow Eris to slip past the ring of muscle, vastly different to what he’d experienced on his tongue thus far. He may be centuries old but there had never been a partner that he’d ever been close enough with to, well… He curved his tongue slightly and drew a low whine from Azriel.

“Ooh-ahh!” Azriel’s sweet moan broke into a throaty groan as Eris’s tongue pushed its way in further, ignoring the moist clenching resistance from Azriel’s ass that was attempting to slow down his expedition.

Eris hummed and distracted Azriel with a tight hand on his hard dick, squeezing his wet fist around Azriel’s cock that was noticeably, amusingly, twitching whenever Eris passed over a certain areaaa… there; Azriel’s cock pulsed in his hand and Eris marked that spot in his head.

And then he bullied it, harshly, cruelly, lovingly.

Azriel’s thick thighs twitched around him, sharpening the edges of his lips that were still kissing Azriel’s hole. He pulled his tongue back to Azriel’s contracting rim to briefly collect his thoughts.

Firstly, it was far easier than eating pussy. Not as many folds or possibility of missing marks. And Azriel was so very responsive– his hips tilted in various directions, trying to control where the tip of Eris’s tongue would target.

There’d be none of that.

Eris released his grip on Azriel’s cheek and cock to hold his hips down, flush against the hard tabletop, trapping Azriel’s cock between his body and the cool surface. A needy yowl rushed out of Az.

“Ah fuck, Eris what? C’mon you were the one who wanted to do this,” Az whined.

“Oh do you not want to be doing this Azriel?” Eris pulled back to coo rhetorically.

“I do! Jus’ wanna come too,” Azriel explained between whimpers as Eris bobbed his head back and forth, pumping his tongue as deep as it could go before pulling back to swish his tongue over Azriel’s entrance filthily, creating a mess he wouldn’t allow Azriel to clean up.

He pooled some more saliva and pushed as many limits as he could, pushing down on Azriel’s lower back, placing pressure on his shaft as he swirled his tongue down to that spot he’d noted, slurping his curved tongue across the velvety anterior wall of Azriel’s begging hole.

“Wanna come, baby? Then go, not stopping you, am I?” Eris taunted, knowing his full body weight crushing his dick would cause some… orgasmic technical difficulties.

“Oh come on Eris, please just jerk me off- I- I think I hear someone.”

Oh, he did.

Cassian and Nesta should be returning from their private training session just about now. Now being three weeks after they found Nesta sat on this very table with her thighs spread out over Cassian’s plate. Eris had been taking his meals in Azriel’s room whenever he was simply too tired to winnow back to Autumn, or on the honest days, when he wanted to hold Azriel in his arms or tuck himself with a novel between his spanning wings.

Azriel, like the torture-device that he is- clamped down on his tongue painfully as the door to the upstairs arena clicked open.

Eris lifted his hands and allowed Azriel to jerk into his fist as he targeted his now bullied sweet spot with his tongue. Azriel came screaming Eris’s name as the startled and sweaty Nesta and Cassian strolled into the heady atmosphere of the room.

“I told you I heard something, Cassian,” Nesta said, exasperated. A hit and an abrupt expulsion of Cass’s breath painted an amusing picture of him getting punched.

Although he was painfully hard, Eris glamoured his length to his typical level of bulge and stood at his own, unhurried pace. He pulled Azriel’s trousers back over his perked ass, neglecting to clean up any of the mess before slapping his now leather-clad booty with a sharp hand.

“Should’ve listened to her, Cass,” Eris said with a grin. Moving to grab one of the chairs and place it behind Azriel who sat gratefully with a plonk, his eyes fluttered shut once he found stability. He rested his scarred palms flat on the table as if he was still dizzy from coming.

Thank you so much @the-darkestminds for beta reading, you are the best ily mami🫂💗

Taggin some sexy Azris babes: @nus4y @jules-writes-stories @astro-h0e-4azris @mistandmemories @mudandmire @chunkypossum @fourteentrout @molcat07 @ninthcircleofprythian @3xolara @irithiadourden @iftheshoef1tz @pippsmcgee @neciebee please lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future smutty drabbles/fics

[potatoplace]

Safe

💖 Valentine's Collection 2025: One Room at The Inn 💖

Azris x Reader

Summary: After spending two months helping to rebuild an Autumn settlement with Azriel and Eris, you're nearly home to the Forest House. The three of you decide to spend the night at an inn, where there's only one room, with one bed.

Warnings: none! ☺️

Words: 1,155

Author's Note: this was fuuuun yes yes I like it. Az and Eris being soft bois 🥹 I hope you guys like it!! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

Eris’s eyes were flaming when he returned to your and Azriel’s sides, only one key held in his hand. “They only had the one room, and it’s only got one bed,” he huffed.

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the thought of spending the night in the same room as them, let alone the same bed.

“We’ll sleep on the floor,” Azriel said softly, a hand already rubbing your upper back to soothe you. “I will do no such thi-” Eris started, before cutting himself off. But when you turned to look at Azriel, his face was soft, no hint of a threat lingering that would’ve been able to shut Eris up. “Yes, alright, we will sleep on the floor, bunny. Now, let’s get you upstairs and into the bath first,” he fussed, extending an arm for you to take. You took it gladly, and let Eris lead you to the room the three of you would be sharing for the night, on your last day before returning to the Forest House. Azriel trailed behind you a few steps, but always in reach in case you needed his help.

The room was nice enough, with floor space for the males to sleep on… Though you felt rather guilty about that, knowing how much more they’d been doing than you had on the trip.

You had been picked by the Lady of Autumn, Eris’s mother, herself to oversee the rebuilding of a town on the edge of the Autumn-Winter border that had been all but wiped out by a landslide after record rainfalls in the height of autumn.

Somehow you’d been lucky enough to be given the Autumn Heir as your partner for the journey, and he’d elected to bring his friend, the Shadowsinger along.

For two months now, you’d been in close quarters with the males, their scents and appearances driving you mad. It didn’t help that the two of them were warm and caring towards only you, and seemed to put your needs above their own at every turn.

And now you were to sleep in the same room as them?

You were bound to have a dream about the two of them, with their scents so strong around you, and how embarrassing would it be for the Heir of Autumn and the Night Court’s Spymaster to bear witness to such a thing?

You were so overtaken with anxieties that you didn’t notice that Eris and Azriel had left, leaving you alone to take a bath and warm up after freeing yourself from your rain soaked clothing. You stripped down to your chemise and underthings, putting the rest of your clothes on the provided hangers, hoping that they would be dry enough to be comfortable in the morning.

You slipped your underwear off as well, hanging it with your socks and praying to the mother that the males wouldn’t notice, or at least would have the decency to not mention them.

Now, though, you ventured into the small attached bathroom, touched to see that a tub of water had already been filled for you, licks of steam rising from its surface. You pulled off your chemise, hung it on the hook on the back of the door, and sank into the water, sighing as heat began seeping back into your bones. This, at least, was worth having to share the room with Eris and Azriel.

You’d nearly finished scrubbing yourself clean when a knock sounded on the door. “Yes?”

“Y/N, I brought you a nightgown, if you’d like,” Eris said softly from the other side. Really?

“Oh, that would be lovely, Eris. You can set it on the counter, please,” you replied, sinking below the water to try and preserve whatever was left of your modesty. He opened the door, amber eyes flicking over to you for a moment before darting away, the smallest hints of a blush on his cheeks.

Maybe you weren’t the only on affected by this arrangement.

He left the nightgown on the counter as you’d asked, you giving your thanks before he practically bolted out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

A minute later you heard talking in the other room, and you assumed that Azriel had returned from wherever he’d gone.

You finished bathing in the next minute and reluctantly pulled yourself from the warm water and began to dry yourself with a fluffy towel before approaching the nightgown Eris had brought for you. Having a fresh set of clothes would let your chemise dry properly overnight, and you’d be saved the discomfort of sleeping in wet clothing. And the nightgown itself was very nice, made of a dark red silk and trimmed with soft white lace on the collar, hem, and sleeves. It fit you like a dream as well, nicer than anything you had worn in the past two months of hard work in the fields. And it was dry.

“Thank you, Eris,” you said softly when you exited the bathroom.

“Of course, bunny. I thought you might like some dry clothing for the night,” he replied before patting the seat next to him. “Come, Azriel brought us dinner.”

You took the seat next to him and across from Azriel, smiling at the offering of a hearty stew and fresh bread before tucking in.

Over the next hour the two of them bathed as well, coming out looking refreshed, cheeks flushed from the steam.

Soon enough it was late enough the three of you had agreed to try and sleep, the two of them taking their places on the floor, a blanket and pillow snagged from the bed for each of them.

You tried to sleep - you really, really tried - but after an hour of hearing Azriel’s wings rustle, and Eris’s tired and frustrated breathing, you cracked. Plus, without the extra bedding, you were feeling a bit chilled.

“The two of you can come up here,” you said in a small voice, surprised to hear both of them get up in an instant.

“Thank the mother, it’s cold down there,” Eris grumbled as he slid into bed in front of you, arms placed awkwardly as he tried not to touch you.

“Baby,” Azriel grunted as he took the spot behind you, his chest instantly warming your back and wing folding over the top of you, covering Eris as well. He hesitantly allowed his arm to loop around your waist, though he didn’t pull you closer like you secretly desired.

Their scents were so strong around you now, Azriel’s night mist and cedar smell mixing perfectly with Eris’s scent of embers and sweet vanilla.

You felt… At home, between them.

Your eyes started to feel heavy now, deep breaths into your lungs calming you even further. You stirred slightly when Eris finally let his arm wrap over you, his hand rubbing softly along your spine.

Between the two of them…

You felt safe.

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

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[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right?

An Eris x Reader drabble

(Part 2) (Part 3)

Warnings: a bit smutty, language

“Your dad’s going to kill you.”

My head was pounding. This bed was so warm.

Last night was a blur.

Nyx, how many times do I have to request that you not intrude on my thoughts before 9 am.

“It’s almost noon, cousin.”

Shit!

Shit, cover for me! Please.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

Right. I know. Cover for me anyway?

“One hour. Be here in one hour. You owe me.”

Don’t worry, Nyxie. I’ll cover for you the next time you visit the lovely daughter of Spring.

Slamming my mental shields up, I rolled over to the fiery lover next to me with a groan, “Get me out of this autumnal wasteland.”

“Good morning to you too, little one.” the redhead pressed against my backside grumbled.

I rolled over to smack his shoulder. “Gross, Eris. I’m the same age as Aunt Nesta when you proposed to her.”

Eris smirked. “She never called me daddy like you do.”

I let out a mirthful laugh, hoisting myself on top of him, straddling just below his rippled abdomen, “I’m never fucking you again.”

“You say that every time, dear.” Gripping his hands on my hips, groggy voice a whisper, “Yet somehow you keep falling back into my bed.”

Fuck. He was so hot.

I leaned down, pressing my breasts to his bare chest, face just an inch from his. “I can’t help that my shadows love how you beg.”

A growl escaped the back of his throat as my shadows restrained his wrists above his head. My gaze turned icy as I commanded, “Eyes on me, Eris.”

His only response a shift of his hips.

“Don’t fucking move.” I purred.

Nyx could keep the family off my back for a little longer.