#soft azris

[ninthcircleofprythian]

When You Wish Upon a Star

Azris - Azriel/Eris

Word Count - 1k

Warnings - tooth rotting fluff and domesticity, some sexual innuendo

Author's Note - Based off of this post - I thought about it. And then couldn't stop. Also big thanks once again to @tsunami-of-tears for the divider.

Azriel heard the door click and knew who it was without even opening his eyes. The soft padding of footsteps across the carpeted floor matched the pattern that he had memorized well over the years. He remained still, tall body lounging across the full length of the sofa knowing that his shadows had already given away that he was awake.

The air around him shifted as the shadows that swirled around his mate in greeting returned. With a heavy sigh, Eris folded his body and plopped to sit on the floor before the furniture. 

“Long day?,” Az drawled, eyes still closed but one scarred hand reaching out to caress Eris’ loose strands of hair. 

“Insufferably long,” Eris grumbled. “Who knew High Lords could throw such tantrums over the most minor of decisions.”

Azriel chuckled as he righted himself to sitting, feet planted on either side of Eris on the floor. “I don’t think that's anything new, my love.”

The tension in Eris’ shoulders bled away as those large scarred hands continued their ministrations stroking over his scalp and combing through his hair. “If it wasn’t for your influence as my mate I’m fairly certain Rhysand would have thrown the biggest tantrum of them all.”

Az could hear the smirk in Eris’ voice as he chuckled deeply once more. “Again, thats nothing new.”

Leaning back into the comforting touch of his mate, Eris hummed with satisfaction. Combing his fingers through the deep rust colored strands, Azriel brought his fingers to the nape of Eris’ neck with a gentle squeeze before gathering his hair and filling his palm with it. 

“Relax, my love.” His mouth so close to his ear, whispering soft and low, sent a shiver through Eris’ body. He closed his eyes and leaned further into the sofa behind him as Az began separating the strands into bundles. 

Slowly, Az smoothed out what he had gathered and with deft fingers began weaving over and under, pulling those glossy locks into an intricate braid. Only a couple passes later, the soft click of the door sounded once more.

“Daddy?” The tiny sleepy voice of their daughter broke through the easy silence. “You’re home.” Little barefoot feet approached, hands rubbing at drowsy eyes.

“I am,” Eris said as he gathered her cherub cheeks between his palms as she stood before him. “But you should be in bed. It’s very late,” Eris admonished gently as he pulled her face towards his own and planted a kiss to her forehead. 

She remained where she was, dark eyes staring between her parents, mind still foggy with interrupted sleep. Eris stared right back, eyes roaming over her features. Ones that seemed to have changed so quickly. No longer the soft round face of an infant but all too quickly shifting into the face of a child. While she wasn’t biologically theirs, no one could convince Eris’ heart of such a thing. The love he felt, the constant worry over her safety and happiness, the overwhelming urge to hold her against his chest and never let her grow up was entirely all consuming. 

“I want my hair braided too, Papa,” her voice broke through the reverie, pleading eyes now landing on Azriel.

“Just a minute, honey. Let me finish Daddy’s hair first.” His hands continued their steady measured weaving.

“Come here, pumpkin,” Eris said as he shifted into a crossed leg position. “I’ll do it.”

Seemingly satisfied with his offer, she turned around and planted her small body squarely into the well of Eris’ lap. Combing his long fingers through, he began to tame the tangles of sleep before he began.

Az continued working as his mind wandered. The braid itself didn’t need his attention as it was a long held custom within this household. Nights of elusive sleep, days of unending stress - they all seemed to end with Azriel’s hands in Eris’ hair one way or another. 

Taking in the sight before him, his mate folded elegantly along the floor, their daughter seated comfortably in his lap, Az couldnt stop the twist of melancholy in his chest. He had never dreamed that this would be his life and yet he wouldn’t change a single thing about it. 

“Daddy?,” that tiny voice sounded once more. “Why do you call me pumpkin? Is it because you are from Autumn Court?”

Eris huffed out a laugh. “I hadn’t really thought about it that way, pumpkin,” he answered with a kiss to the crown of her head. “It just seemed fitting, but I guess it must have something to do with being from Autumn.”

The silence fell once more just as Az reached the end of his braid. Pulling a thin leather tie from his pocket he secured his masterpiece with a smile and a squeeze to Eris’ shoulder.

“Is that why Papa sometimes calls you his shooting star? Because he’s from Night?” 

Az felt the shoulder beneath his hand tense just as he threw his head back in a surprised bark of a laugh. He could practically feel the embarrassed heat rolling off of his mate at the question.

“No, honey,” Az laughed as he wiped away a tear. “I sometimes call Daddy my shooting star because he gave me everything I could have ever wished for.” 

Whipping around, Eris’ eyes met the dark ones of his mate, so similar to their daughters. The smirk melted from his face into a soft look of adoration. “Very smooth,” his tone like velvet.

Turning back to the task at hand, Eris finished the tail of the tiny braid in his hands.

“There. All finished,” he patted his daughters side. “Now up, come on. Time for bed. I’ll tuck you in.”

Unfurling his legs and bracing on the scarred hand offered to him, Eris unfolded into standing, with Az following suit. 

“Good night, Papa!” Little arms threw themselves around his legs before Az lifted the tiny girl into his arms. 

“Good night – again.” With a kiss to her cheek, he planted her back upon the floor to follow his mate down the hallway. 

“I’ll be upstairs,” Az said as he pressed a kiss to his mate’s hand. “Waiting to make a wish on another shooting star.” With a sly wink and a smile, Azriel turned toward the stairs.

“Clever. Very clever.” Eris’ eyes twinkled as they narrowed on his mate. “I’ll have you seeing stars, alright.”

Throwing his head back, Azriel let loose a deep laugh. “I can’t wait.”

General Taglist -

@mybestfriendmademe

@lilah-asteria

@chairofchaos

@pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages

[acourtofladydeath]

Azris Week Day 6: Change

Chapter 3: 45 years after their bond snapped and 35 years after the ceremony, Azriel and Eris realize something is missing. They’d briefly touched on the subject for years, but now they’re ready to discuss that next step.

I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this fic updated y'all!! I never want to work on something just to do it. You get a subpar product, and I don't enjoy writing it. Hopefully the brain worms for this piece will just keep coming now. But I promise you it is not abandoned and will get finished! I sincerely hope you enjoy the next installment.

Thank you to @fieldofdaisiies and @chunkypossum for helping me beta this fic!

The mates decide to make a change for @azrisweek day 6. If you haven't read this fic before or read it a while ago, you'll want to start from the beginning. Read a snippet of the new addition below, or start the full chapter on AO3!

“Something is missing and I don’t like it.” Eris said, looking away as he spoke. The words came out sure and concise, but there was a waver of emotion there that Azriel couldn't decipher. He wasn’t sure if the shame he saw in his mate’s eyes was from being the first to speak, or because of his admission.  “Missing from what?” Azriel asked with hesitant composure.  Eris stood from his chair then, walking over to the fire for solace as he wrapped his arms around himself. He stared into the flames, whose undulations had only grown increasingly agitated, trying to find comfort. With a smaller voice than Azriel was used to hearing, Eris continued. “If I say it, you have to promise not to hate me.”  Pushing off the wall, Azriel went to join Eris by the fire. “Eris, what’s going on? I could never hate you.”  A rough laugh escaped Eris’ throat, “we both know that’s not true. You’ve hated me well enough before.”  Just as he was about to reach for Eris, Azriel flinched back. His admission shocked Azriel, and he couldn’t help but cringe. “I thought we were past this.”  “I’m sure you did.” Eris’ eyes still stared coldly into the fire.  Azriel flexed his fists at his sides in an effort to control his hurt and anger. His voice was still harsher than he wanted when he spoke. “What’s that supposed to mean, Eris? What aren’t you saying?” 

This snippet does not start at the beginning of the fic. Read the full chapter on AO3!

Please let me know if you would like on or off my taglist! @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds

[moonpatroclus]

“𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬… 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲”

When I saw the “slice of life” prompt for @azrisweek , my immediate thought was some quiet, intimate slow dancing. In my mind, I imagine this isn’t after a big fancy ball or party, it’s just a random evening- nothing special about it other than the fact they get to spend it together.

Thank you, thank you a million times to the wonderful b_astora for working on this piece for me. She was so kind to squeeze me into her schedule, and I’m so happy with the way she brought this idea to life💗

Please do not repost

[octxii]

i'm only cryptic and machiavellian 'cause i care

[mudandmire]

Contact

Azris Week - Day Three: Contact

~~~ So how about...fluff. @azrisweek day three is here! And we continue on the excitement with this prompt which I waffled on not gonna lie. But ultimately this is what I ended up with; a lil treat from the canon lore (universe/place??), which I don't often do so this is wack. Thank you to everyone posting this week and also those reading and liking - you all make my day and literally my heart feels light when I see you little guys in my phone <3. Alright, enough, enjoy!! :D ~~~

“Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.” — The Iliad.

Far Too Honest

Eris learns quickly in his and Azriels growing partnership; the Shadowsinger has no patience for his vast, vapid verbiage.

That is to say: Azriel cuts through his bullshit with the skill and delicate precision he wields with his daggers.

Eris sit's at his desk with it's guttering candlelight. Silver streams through the patterned canopy and slips across the deep mahogany floors. The shadows stretch long, their edges wavering at the corner of Eris’s eyes. It could, of course, be strain from how long he’s been staring at this written proposition from the representative of Agriculture in his fathers council. The words are small, skittering in the dim candlelight, but that doesn’t explain the disquiet sense of knowing that crests along the nape of his neck and down the slope of his spine.

He straightens in his chair, the proposition all but forgotten as his breathing goes shallow: waiting, listening carefully for the softest whisper of sound behind him. The shadows in the corner of his room, the places he’d never think darkness could fit to accommodate, deepen like ink spilled in a pool, and then—

“It’s late, Shadowsinger.” Eris croons, slumping back in his seat, the very picture of nonchalance.

Azriel melts out of the very fabric of the wall Eris had been staring at—darkness tangible and material pours over his shoulders, shrouding the shine of his cobalt syphons. It seeps down the contours of his armored body before falling to the rug and dissipating. There’s wisps of shadow that still cling to him when he steps away from the wall, but Eris had only ever found him after he’d mysteriously appeared; never has he seen the process. A strange, tangled birth from the creeping darkness of his room.

“You’re not asleep.” Azriel says, his voice low. It’s not a question, Eris thinks most likely he already knew he wouldn’t be asleep.

“Would you prefer it if I was? Would certainly make this torturous confrontation less so.” He waves a careless hand to the tossed and creased emerald sheets and quilt of his bed.

Azriel tilts his head, enough that Eris can catch it in the weak light of his chamber. Quiet falls, yet Azriel doesn’t hasten to break it, instead studying Eris with those bright, hazel eyes. Listening into an invisible, untouchable voice—probably telling him about the dark, half-moon bruises under his eyes, the sluggish bleeding of his picked at cuticles.

“I think you would prefer if I wasn’t here at all.” His arms cross over his chest, a single dark brow arched even as his mouth creases in a frown.

“Now what would make you think I don’t absolutely adore your company, Shadowsinger? You’re a complete delight at all hours.”

Azriel takes a couple steps closer, his features carved into harsh lines. “Would you like me to come back in the morning?”

Eris falters, just for a heartbeat, before a scoff slips from his lips and his hands fold together under the safety of his desk. Free to rub and pick to his hearts content. “I didn’t think my comfort mattered to you so much, I'm touched.”

“It doesn’t,” he turns briefly toward the bed and the mess Eris had left behind with all his tossing and turning. “But I don’t want to deal with you when your tired and talking around the conversation even more than when you’re well rested.”

“‘Well-rested,’” he hums, “not sure I’m familiar.”

Azriel sighs deeply, walking closer to the desk with a pensive look in his eyes. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Relax, Shadowsinger.” Eris huffs, his knee bouncing under the desk, an itch in his calves and thighs he can’t seem to get rid of no matter how he twists his legs. It’s what dragged him out of bed in the first place—like the constant jump of his mind from problem to problem to problem accidently side-tracked down his body and stored in the bones of his legs. “I am at my best at all times of day.”

“Not night, then.” He replies shortly.

“Oh, so the bat can be clever? Not just boringly blunt.” Eris sneers.

Azriel narrows his eyes down at him. “I’m still waiting for an answer, Lordling.”

"You’re no fun.”

Azriel remains unmoved, his lips pressed together so tight the color leaches from them entirely.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to repeat the question.” He gives Azriel a bland smile, mocking as he looks up at the lit features of his face. He’s closer than he realized, shifting nearer while Eris remained distracted by his own mind games—the pick of his nails at the raw skin around his fingers, the agitated bounce of his knee.

It’s a complete surprise when Azriel—in a movement so swift Eris blinks and misses it—reaches over and tugs his chair out from the desk. The legs screech against the floor, and Eris feels his hackles raise, mouth fallen open in shock as he’s physically tugged up and out of his seat by his wrists.

“Are you mad—” he hisses, anger and no small amount of caution flaring in his golden eyes as they flicker around the room, landing on his double doors with a stiffness drawing up his spine.

Azriel ignores his squirming, locking his fingers around his wrists where he can feel the rabbiting of his pulse against the thin skin. “I want you to look me in the eyes and answer the question, Eris.”

He goes still, a light flaring in his gaze at the sound of his name. His tongue, pink and wet flicks out to his lips. “You’ll get me caught, arrogant bastard.”

“I’ll let you get back to your habits if you answer my question.” With a quirk of his lips, his eyes fall briefly to Eris’s fingers where his hands are still locked in Azriel's grip. It’s not punishing, and if Eris pulled hard enough he could dislodge himself free—yet he keeps his hands there, swallows against his dry throat, and avoids Azriel’s piercing gaze.

Heat steals across the bridge of his nose, burns against the tips of his ears. “I told you; you have to repeat the question, Shadowsinger.”

“Hm.” Azriel hums softly, head tilting again. The fingers around his wrist pulse, just once, so softly Eris would take it for his own heartbeat. Understanding floods him. Eris knows what he’s listening to. His heart lurches, pressing hard against his ribcage and Eris wonders if he would see the imprint of it on the fabric of his tunic if he looked down. “I know, for a fact, you don’t.”

Eris opens his mouth, a defense mechanism at this point, melting from the inside out from a combination of Azriel’s grip and his bright, hazel eyes that have starred in too many dreams to be considered a blip.

Azriel’s fingers press down, and Eris’s mouth snaps shut as his head lowers, drawing closer to him. Enough that a single breath separates their mouths—and Eris shouldn’t be focusing on it, but it’s all he can see, his head a white water rush of his racing pulse—

“Eris.” Azriel says, his low voice sharp. “If this partnership is going to work—a partnership you made a deal for—I will not tolerate this kind of complex, verbal avoidance. It’s bullshit. Tell me what you think, you’ve never hesitated before.”

“I…” He swallows hard, a tendon feathering in his jaw. Simple, useless words like bile fill his mouth and he works against it. “I don’t—”

“Do you want me to come back tomorrow?” Azriel asks again. He doesn’t need to, and it breaks the seal against Eris’s lips.

“No,” he almost shouts, surprising himself and flinching back at the echo of his own voice—louder than it’s been in a while. “I don’t want to—I’m fine to conduct business, now.” He’s embarrassingly breathless, molten in the Shadowsinger’s hold.

At the though, he squirms against it slightly, Azriel tightening his grip in warning. “You don’t want to what?”

“Why do you act like you care?” Eris's mouth twists, bearing a dismissive scowl. There's a wild gleam in his eyes as his nostrils flare and for the first time the scent of cedar and the faintest hint of something smokey, like fyre whiskey, greets him.

Azriel breathes in deep, head rearing back slightly as if realizing how close they had grown in the undiluted heat of their conversation. “I don’t work with beings who say one thing, but mean another. Bad for business.” He grumbles, gaze cast to this side.

Blinking, Eris grits his teeth against the wave of despair that rises with a vengeful force in his chest. “Of course, wouldn’t want my serpents tongue meddling with your saintly High Lord’s schemes.”

“I said that wrong—”

“I’m really, quite sure you didn’t.”

“Eris,” The air shudders out of his lungs, a full body thing, and suddenly Eris watches as his features grow closer when he rests the bridge of his forehead against his. “For some, unexplainable reason, I want you to tell me things. True things.”

His mouth shuts with a click, swallowing the knot in his throat as he closes his eyes. Eris near melts into the line of his frame, feeling their noses brush against each other. There’s a part of him, try as he might to drown and subdue it, that longs for this. The breadth of Azriel's shoulders and the sweet sincereity of his mouth. He's already taken up by so many, and so much, but if Azriel asked—if he let him—Eris would carve a small spot in his chest that he could settle on like a bird on it's perch.

The longing of it, how soft he melts in the continuing heat of Azriel's presence, makes his mouth unguarded, his tongue dangerous. His heart is most especially vulnerable to the small, infinitesimal spark of hope lighting in his chest.

He wets his lips. “I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight; I couldn’t sleep.” The secret is dragged from the depths of him with the same finesse as lobbing a stone into a still lake. It falls in-between the space of his and Azriel’s bodies—but Azriel doesn’t miss it.

“Nightmare?”

“It—ever since Koschei.” Is all he manages to say until his throat clicks and he chokes off.

There’s the slightest increase in pressure when Azriel presses his forehead closer.

“I have them, too. Koschei.”

“Oh.” Eris breathes, relaxing more into Azriel’s hold.

“Somehow, always of you.” He confesses.

Eris can feel the words, they’re so close. The room has completely melted away—every sound and scent. The dripping wax of the candles, the worn leather of his chair. Even the faint smell of damp, churned earth, falls away. Eris is entirely held on an axis point by the vehemence in Azriel’s shadowed eyes.

The chest against his heaves, sudden and sharp. “We should…” Azriel trails off, his voice soft, gaze settling on his eyes, ears, nose, and then falling so lightly it’s barely a moment to his lips.

Eris only has a second to mark the heavy thump of Azriels pulse through his fingers before he’s rearing back. “This isn’t—” his eyes are wild, “we can’t.”

It takes a moment for feeling to rush back into Eris’s body—for sound and sight to come crawling back like admonished hounds. His hands are still aloft, held by invisible clutches because Azriel had removed his touch like it burned him straight to bone.

He clears his throat, casting his gaze down to the brown and maroon patterned carpet and wondering if his legs were shaking or if that was his vision.

“Uh—” his tongue stumbles and it sets his cheeks aflame. “Yes, right, of course that was…silly of me, forget it.” The plea is quiet, supposed to be left more to himself than to Azriel but it seems the sight of him, the very feeling of his nearness, makes his filter faulty.

“No, it was my fault, I shouldn’t have…” Azriel gestures uselessly to Eris’s own hands, then sighs deeply and cards his fingers through the raven strands of his hair.

Quiet falls among them. A silence much like the ones that haunt the Forest House; every empty, echoing hallway, the spaces between the books in the library, the very haloed edge of light the torches cast. All of it is pulsing, threatened and vulnerable.

Eris has never felt so stripped. Down to bone, raw as his bruised eyes and picked cuticles. He tugs at the embroidered hem of his waistcoat, restricting him as if it grew belts and strapped itself around and around and around—

“I don't regret it. I’m not saying I shouldn’t have asked for the truth, I wanted that. I shouldn’t have held you hostage, though. I’m sorry.” Azriel’s got his own hands clasped behind his back as if in penance.

He’s looking at Eris through the sooty spread of his lashes and Eris needs him out. He needs him far, far away so he can upturn his floorboards with his broken fingernails and bury himself away to rot.

The rabbiting thump of his pulse and the tremor running through his hands suggests that he still hasn’t recovered from his proximity.

He tries anyway. “It’s fine.” He whispers, shifting on his feet that have grown spines and thorns and dig into the muscle of his calves with vengeance. He hides the dull prick of pain in the clench of his jaw.

“You can tell me if it’s not—if I crossed a line.” His voice is so soft, quilted and woven as if to draw Eris into it’s bed of comfort and strangle him there.

He should tell him he crossed a line, crossed every line. Should twist his forked tongue and bare his teeth and shove him out the arched window. It would be the wise choice, the most sensible option to keep Eris from let himself wade into even deeper waters.

Yet, Eris can still feel the heat of Azriel's hands around his wrists like a band—the soothing warmth of another body, another soul, pressed to his. The most delicate, tender spot where his heart pounds loud and obnoxious: every lie a jolt, every truth a river. It is his secret, everything that gives him away, Azriel has held with a gentility Eris didn’t know was possible.

Mother strike him down, but he wants it again. The vulnerability. The most pleasant prick of needles in his skin, a fire built log by log in his belly—he wants the touch. Even if it burns.

Eris is the one to step closer. “Everything you did, I wanted you to do.” His heart is racing, sweat collecting on his palms. He has one horrible, stomach churning thought of ‘that was far too honest’ before a gentle touch, hesitant and questioning, brushes against the jut of bone on his wrist.

His head snaps up, Azriel is already looking at him. “Good,” he says, “I wanted to—I want to.” The words are near breathless, a pinch forming in between his dark brows.

His pointer finger and thumb circle his wrist, head tilted in a silent question.

All Eris feels is the rain-soaked rush of relief that floods him. The itch, insufferable and unreachable in his legs disappears. His chest loosens, and for the first time that night exhaustion sweeps over him in a blanketed haze of slow blinking and slumped shoulders.

“Maybe we can continue this delightful—” he cuts himself off with a yawn, startling him almost as much as Azriel.

“Tomorrow—right, yes, I completely forgot how late it was.” The words fall one on top of the other he’s talking so fast, still low, as if afraid to break the careful quiet around them.

Eris stops his spiraling, though it’s hard to tell from the outside, Azriel had gone completely rigid. A sudden swarm of lengthening shadows and stretches of darkness folding over his shoulders and arms. He holds Azriel’s wrist, thumbing over the ridges and caps of his scars.

“I meant, maybe you could stay?” It’s not as scary voicing it as he thought it would be, not after everything tonight. Or, perhaps the Mother has granted him a rare gift and is letting his fatigue untie his reserves.

Azriel’s hazel eyes widen, absorbing the dark of his Illyrian leathers, the sepia tinge to his room. Sooty lashes flutter, and Eris watches with rapt attention.

“You’d be okay with that?” He glances over his shoulder at the spread of Eris’s tousled bed; the emerald quilt and strewn, goose feather pillows.

Eris swallows thickly. Not in fear, not this time, but in pure, undiluted want. “I’ve never slept with anyone,” he whispers, “not like this.”

Azriel doesn’t say anything else, his gaze scans the room and its dim light. He turns with Eris’s wrist still in his hand, and walks toward the bed. It’s not weird—it should be weird, but all Eris can think of as he unbuttons his waistcoat and the restrictive, lavish layers of his ensemble is how comfortable he feels in the dark with him.

“You need trousers.” Eris says, already digging through his armoire for a folded pair of worn trousers he thinks might fit Azriel.

Azriel glances over at Eris with a quirked brow, he’s got one hand on the buttons on the front of his abdomen, undoing them with a practiced ease that comes from a lifetime of repetition. He shrugs the top off behind his back, where it slips in the space between his wings and falls to the floor. Eris watches with slightly parted lips as those great, membranous wings shudder like a hound shaking off its coat. They move in mesmerizing, miniscule ways; how Eris’s fingers would fidget and twitch, his knee bounce—he finds Azriel’s wings mimic those same involuntary patterns of being.

He shakes his head, handing Azriel the pair of trousers. “These should fit.”

“Thanks,” Azriel says, working them up his legs and then grunting when the hem of the legs come up to his calves. “Should?” He asks with a wry smirk.

“Shut up, those are old.” Eris fluffs out the quilt, resettling the pillows against the headboard and straightening the sheets.

Azriel is quiet as he helps fold the quilt over so he can slip into bed. “I’m sure.” He mocks gently, and gets a heavy goose down pillow to the face for it.

His face falls in affront, and no small amount of shock as he freezes half-way onto the mattress. “What—” his voice pitches up, and Eris claps a hand over his mouth where he’s sitting up against the headboard.

“Just get in, Azriel.” A huff comes from behind his palm, breath warming his skin, and he can feel how his lips pull down in a frown.

There’s only the quiet shuffle of fabric and skin. The growing, shifting darkness that cools when Eris blows out the candle when Azriel settles enough. Eris remains on his back, a stiffness solidifying against his spine the longer he lays in the dark with another body, another heartbeat and set of lungs right next to him.

The mattress bounces as Azriel moves again, a sigh falling from his mouth.

“Give me your hand.” He says.

Eris startles, eyes wide in the dark where he can feel his pulse in his sockets. “Why?”

“Give me your hand, Eris.”

Begrudgingly, Eris turns to his side, awkwardly holding his arm out into the dusk. The room only lit by the the silver strands of moonlight through the canopy outside his window.

Azriel’s touch is gentle, searching, he finds the tops of his fingers and starts a path down—it leaves Eris entirely breathless. Working against the burn in his chest and the clinging scent of cedar to breathe in deep.

Eris already knows what Azriel wants, but his heart still lurches up to his throat when his scarred hand circles his wrist.

“Tell me a truth, Eris.” It’s the second time he’s said his name in as many minutes. Eris needs him to say his name always, forever.

He inhales, filling his lungs till there’s a pinch and the releases it, letting his muscles and all the tension built in his bones melt into the mattress. The down pillow moulds to his head, and it feels like he’s sinking somewhere darkness won’t even reach.

He can’t tell if his eyes are closed or if the moon disappeared, but he says anyway to the shroud of shadows—to Azriel.

“Don’t be gone when I wake up.”

Sleep calls to him, a lullaby he hasn’t heard in full for so long. He barely feels Azriel’s fingers tighten around his wrist. He is, however, sent off to rest with the deep, ocean tide pull of his voice from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll be here.”

All there is in this endless sea of pillows and the soft cotton of his quilt is the heat of Azriel's knee that brushes against his, the clasp of his scarred fingers around his wrist. The rest, if there’s more, is null.

~~///~~///~~///~~

hey. hey look listen h ey maybe I just wanted my boys to be soft and say to hell with logic. is that so bad? no. I possess a physical inability to write anything lighthearted without the emotional weight - it haunts me. ALSO I have beef with Illyrian clothing and leathers bc what do you MEAN the buttons are down the back on the sides??? I'm sorry??? Behind big ass wings???? Why not have a wrap sort of style and then buttons or ties in the front panels, like on the sides of the abdomen. I digress, I hope you liked it I've got...things brewing for day four and it's. hm. we'll see ;]

[withmychainzon]

What if I promise you by Black Friday? What if I promise you by Black Friday and I give you a snippet of the chapter? Will you forgive me for my literal year long absence? ���🥺

Proof of life (both me and the doc)

[chunkypossum]

HELLLOOOO?!? My pitiful heart is in shambles

This is why I love them. Every interpretation I see of them I’m like… yeah that’s it. That feels right. It’s perfect.

But “I’ll be the one to kill you teach me how to do it slowly?” HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THE GODS IM A PUDDLE ON THE FLOOR.

sometimes I think about how azriel and eris say “I love you”. And I know, they’re more of a lets-fuck-to-emote couple, but in their quiet moments, how do assure each other that the love they share is real with its own heartbeat? Especially verbally. Then I think about how poetic mr “If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?” vanserra is and wonder, is that a lucien thing or a vanserra thing.

because then I think, eris does not say love- no, love is something used to hurt him, hurt his brothers (jesminda), his mother. he’s a courtier, a silver tongued fox with clipped claws which scratch but do not scar. thus eris turns to the metaphor, the euphemism for a heart robbed, the flooding blood and aching to fill its empty space.

he says, “my dear shadowsinger”. he says “the moon is beautiful tonight”. he says, “I saw an elderly fae couple and thought of you”. he says, “I do not mind the darkness, my flames are only brighter because of it”. he says, “the bed is cold without you. it is too big”. he says, “take off your armour. yes, i’ll keep it safe in the drawers. yes, I’ll learn the fastens and straps to help you put it on every morning”. he says, “my dance card only has one name. well, two because you’ve asked me to be kind to your family. yes, i’m picking nesta again.” he says, “I love the ocean. let’s go” he says “my dearest shadowsinger, i do not love you. I will not hurt you with such indignity, such injury-“

to which azriel says, “fuck you”. he says “I say ‘I love you’ because I’ve never been able to say so freely before”. he says, “do I scare you with this heart of mine? So many others have turned me away.” he says, “do not turn away from me, I can’t take it”. he says, “do not turn away from me, let me see you.”. he says, “do I scare you eris vanserra? let me tell you how you scare me”. he says, “here is why I love you”. he says, “eris, I wish you a painless death”. he says “vanserra, i’ll be the one to kill you. teach me how to do it slowly.” he says, “I love you, I don’t know what to do with myself now that I’ve told you.” he begs, “eris vanserra, keep this our secret- how much I devastatingly love you. don’t let them know.”

“I think they know,” Eris will say and then, “let’s go to the ocean.”

[acourtofladydeath]

Azris Week Day 7: Solstice & Equinox

After a lovely first Solstice together, Azriel and Eris return to their cabin to exchange gifts.

This is part 3 of the Winter Cabin series. I strongly suggest reading the first two parts before starting this fic!

For the last day of @azrisweek, enjoy some sentimental fluff. Read a snippet below, or read the full fic on AO3!

Azriel tucked Eris’ cloak more tightly around him as he flew through the softly falling snow back to their Winter Court cabin. The male had fallen asleep tucked into his side as Azriel had enjoyed the company of his family and friends in the Townhouse. Rhysand had looked between the pair, Azriel’s arm wrapped safely around his mate, and a soft, knowing look came over his eyes.  “Brother you don’t have to stay.”  “I know,” Azriel responded. He looked down at Eris, whose hair had fallen in his eyes. Azriel carefully swept it back behind his soft ear, lingering at the tip longer than necessary. “But he wouldn't want me to leave on his count.”  Rhysand smiled wider at that. “You’ve got your own gifts to exchange. Get out of here. We’ll see you for the snowball fight.”

Continue reading the fic on AO3!

Please let me know if you would like on or off my taglist! @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - During

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel was too late, and something was brewing. The fate of your wings rested in the balance and there was nothing left of him to reconcile with.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Angst, injury, violence

a/n: This is part of a mini-series but each part can be read on its own/out of order. The next part is going to be long guys <3 Thank you for reading all of this angst!!!

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

The ground beneath Azriel’s feet must have disappeared. 

He was unstable, falling, plummeting into an unknown abyss. 

When he looked down, Azriel saw the plush carpet at his feet, but as he replayed Rhysand’s words—four words, echoing—the blur behind his eyes made the physical obsolete. We can’t find her, Rhysand had said, followed by a multitude of questions from Cassian that Azriel could not hear. Everything was buzzing and the carpet was gone. 

Where was Lucien? Azriel remembered that Lucien was to go with you. Where was he? 

He had to be dead because if he were alive and you were missing, Azriel would kill him himself. 

“Lucien,” Azriel spoke, his voice rough, interrupting the conversation he had not been part of. 

“What?” Rhysand asked. 

But Cassian ignored his High Lord’s confusion. “She was never bringing Lucien,” he growled, throwing his brother a sneer. “She only said that to make sure you went on your date. I told her I should’ve come. I told her—” 

Azriel had lost his breath. He was grappling for it, trying to make sense of Cassian’s words as his lungs began to burn, but you wouldn’t do that, would you? Why would you lie to him? Over something like this? 

“Cassian, enough,” Azriel gasped, the buzzing of his brother’s voice a constant barrier in the losing battle within his head. “Who’s looking for her? Where should we go?” 

Azriel was dressed in a ridiculous button-up shirt with slacks that now felt too tight on his legs. His sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and his shadows took advantage of the open space, trailing up to protect him from nothing. Because nothing was here—he wasn’t in danger. 

You were. 

Azriel had only gotten through drinks with Elain before the call from his High Lord sent him into the sky. He couldn’t remember if he apologized. Azriel’s shoes were pinching his feet. 

“I had just lost connection with her when I called you. I sent her to the northeast camp. There’s a possibility that—” 

Azriel was traveling through the shadows, darkness consuming him before Rhysand could finish his sentence. He should have grabbed Cassian for backup, but that was a thought Azriel would only have much, much later. 

His mind was on you—only on you. 

That wasn’t unnatural for Azriel; you were one of the most important people in his life and you had been in trouble before. Life-threatening, war-induced trouble, but somehow, this felt different. 

You had been distant lately. 

Azriel had noticed, but Azriel had also been so zeroed in on getting Elain’s attention that he figured he would have time to check on you in a few weeks. 

When he landed in the camp, the foreboding quiet made him consider that he might never get to check on you again. Illyrian camps were never quiet. There was always shouting or fighting or nagging mothers getting after their young. But the insects in the bushes could be heard in this camp, and Azriel paused amid his racing heart to make sense of the noise. 

And then he heard the scream. 

Your scream.

And he was running. 

His shoes groaned as they pounded into soft dirt and you screamed again. Azriel had never heard that sound come from you. The way it erupted into the air—it was as if it was ripped from your throat, evoked from nothing but agony. 

He pushed himself harder, faster, until the screams became closer and a small hut materialized on the horizon. The image of the quaint house brought Azriel relief, but that relief was short-lived because your screams had become tired in his journey. With each step, your voice broke more and more and Azriel didn’t even feel angry. 

The rage he expected to feel was consumed by the terror that gripped him. 

He ripped open the door and that terror only increased tenfold. 

Azriel was usually focused during battle, his mind razor-sharp. He was known for calculating every step, for remembering each life he took, and being able to recount each slice of his blade when asked for a report days later. Azriel was a warrior and a spy. 

But Azriel could not remember his actions. 

From the moment he opened the door and found you on the ground, surrounded by enemies and so broken, he lost the ability to calculate anything other than death. 

He figured a few must have gotten away because he vaguely registered that the door made a sound. But over the screams, that sound was inconsequential, and with the image of you before him, lying in your blood, chest only minutely rising and falling, everything else was inconsequential. 

He only remembered that the rage finally found him. 

Only when bodies littered the floor did the anger make way for the visceral fear that came with reaching for you—grabbing you as you let out small, weak sounds and took labored breaths. 

“Y/n?” Azriel stressed, eyes roving over your figure with haste that his hands couldn't match. He had to be careful; so much of you was broken. “Y/n,” he spoke again, as if the echo of your name would somehow fix you, snap you out of the hurt. 

Azriel’s breath quivered. His scarred hands hovered over your skin now, afraid to touch you more than to bring you into his arms. His fingers shook. Your wings—it was your wings. 

“You’re okay,” Azriel affirmed, whispering only to himself. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” 

Salt tainted the surface of his tongue, and Azriel then recognized that he was crying. Fat, heavy tears blurred his vision and fell into his mouth as he repeated his mantra into the stagnant air. 

Your wings looked beyond repair. When Hybern destroyed Cassian’s, the roots remained. The delicate flesh was burned and torn, but regrowth was still feasible.

Only small pieces of the membrane along your back remained. 

Azriel’s soul wept. 

You groaned, and Azriel stopped his inspection of your back, his hands brushing your hair off from where it stuck to your skin. 

“Y/n?” he tried again. “Can you hear me? I’m—I’m going to bring you home, okay? You’re going to be fine, I promise.” 

He shouldn’t have promised that. His voice broke as he spoke the words and Azriel knew he shouldn’t have promised that because you only let out a broken rendition of ‘my wings?’ that Azriel had no response to. He only squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to your temple before shadows consumed him once more. They had been rampaging around the pair, whispering worried, angry words in Azriel’s ear, but they remained faithful. 

They brought you home. 

Mor screamed first. 

He assumed everyone would be out looking for you, but Azriel hadn’t broken the connection to Rhysand’s mind, and they had been expecting him. His family stood before him as your blood stained the rug of his High Lord’s favorite sitting room. Rhysand was missing, gone to retrieve Madja, but Azriel was only looking for those he knew could help you. 

His throat caught on air as he frantically searched for Feyre in the room. When he saw her wide eyes, he let out a desperate, “Help her,” that sounded nothing like him. His High Lady’s shoulders rose and fell with hurried panic as she came forward and then hesitated. 

Azriel heard someone vomit in the corner of the room—Cassian, he thought—and Mor came to kneel beside him. 

“Feyre,” he sobbed. “Please. Please, try.” 

Mor was crying. Cassian had wiped his mouth and come to stand beside Feyre, but everyone was too afraid to touch you. You rested in Azriel’s arms, but even his palms remained face up and did not connect with your skin. He would break you more, he was sure of it. Your wings bent at odd angles and hung from your body by only tethered threads and no one knew what to do. 

Azriel thought that dying would be better than this. 

His button-up was stained red. 

“Fuck.” Rhysand’s voice rattled the air in the House. At some point, Feyre had broken her hesitancy and kneeled before you, a gentle glow emitting from her hands as she tried to stitch together the broken remains of your skin. When her mate appeared with the elder healer, she turned wild eyes towards him. Rhysand stood frozen, mimicking each person in the room, but he was the High Lord—a composed leader—so his reverie lasted only seconds before he was sent into action. 

“The table,” Rhysand demanded. “Lay her on the table.” 

No one moved. 

Azriel couldn’t stop looking at you. 

Madja then spoke, no, demanded, “Now.” 

The table was cleared, everything swiped to the floor with abandon. As gently as he could, Azriel rose from the floor on shaking legs and heaved you up with him, offering soft apologies as you cried out. He wished you would pass out from the pain, be free of it all, but the agonizing reality that you might not wake up struck him harder. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he whispered against your hair. His body ached. Azriel leaned you against the table as the other members of his family turned you on your stomach. He kneeled to meet your lidded gaze, your face pressed against the wood. “Madja’s going to fix it, okay?” 

The healer was giving orders—Cassian to get water, Mor to support your head, Feyre for support. It was all a buzz in Azriel’s ears. He licked his lips and tried to meet your eyes, but they were trailing off, unfocused. 

“Y/n?” he tried. “Angel?” A name he had dropped once Elain came into the picture. Your lashes fluttered. His attention peaked. “It’s okay, angel. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry—” 

Azriel was torn from his position on the ground, a heavy hand shoving him up and against the wall. His shadows remained caressing your skin, but a fist met Azriel's face and he lost sight of you. 

“This is your fault.” 

“Cassian!” Mor called, desperately pleading with no one. 

“It is,” Cassian seethed, his arm pressed to the Shadowsinger’s throat. “If he hadn’t been searching for something with a woman not even meant to be his, he would have been there. She would have said anything to ensure your happiness. Anything, Azriel.” 

Azriel blinked and Cassian’s face was inches from his own. “I didn’t—” 

“You have been blinded, brother. You’ve been blind for years and now this is the price.” 

“I don’t—what are you saying?” Azriel pleaded, trying and failing to look over Cassian’s broad wings to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Cassian, this is not the time,” Mor scolded, but the anguish burned so deeply in Cassian’s eyes that Azriel could tell he wasn’t hearing her. 

“She gave you everything,” his brother continued. “She—” 

Your scream punctuated the building tension in the room. Cassian whipped around and Azriel used the opportunity to shove him away, the Shadowsinger racing to your side once again. But, once again, he was pushed away. Rhysand held his shoulder back this time, shaking his head with a furrowed brow. 

The screams echoed in the room and they hurt. 

They hurt everyone. 

Feyre and Mor stood beside Madja, the three of them set to the fruitless task of saving your wings. A small part of Azriel spoke the truth that they were also just trying to save you. You had lost so much blood and he still knew nothing of your other injuries. 

“Rhys,” Azriel begged, beseeching him with his gaze. 

But Rhysand only shook his head once more. “They need the space.” 

“She needs me.” 

Cassian scoffed and ground his jaw, but a glance in the general’s direction found only tears and the quivering of his lips as he pressed them together. 

“You need to let them work.” 

“This is my fault,” Azriel spoke, his tone dead, lost within the echo of your screams. “I was seeing Elain,” he admitted. He met Rhysand’s eyes. “You told me not to. She lied so I could go.” 

Rhysand didn’t even look disappointed. He didn’t look surprised. He only ticked his jaw to the side and breathed deeply through his nose as your screams filled the room once more. 

Azriel flinched. The soles of his shoes were caked with blood and cracked along the stitches. 

Rhysand would have the right to be angry. He had the right to send Azriel away and force him to sit in uncertainty and the consequences of the night, but Rhysand found something familiar in the Shadowsinger’s eyes—something different. Something that Rhysand could find in himself if he were to search his mind from the night he thought Feyre to be dead. 

Impossible, the High Lord assumed, but you were still screaming and there was no time to inspect the intricacies of Azriel’s reaction. 

So Rhysand only held back the maelstrom of his own emotions, his sister broken on the table just feet from him, and kept his response to that of a leader. 

“Let them work, Azriel.”

[acoazlove]

Mornings Like These

Azriel x reader

Summary: Slow mornings are your favourite.

Word Count: 705

Warnings: fluff, making out

─────────────────────────

The first thing you registered when you awoke was a weight wrapped around your waist.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth upon remembering who it was. Your mate. His scarred hand pressed to the soft skin of your belly, and his large wing draped over you, keeping you safe and warm from everything outside of your room.

After a long while of just relishing in the peaceful silence of your room, you turned in his hold to face him.

Gods he’s pretty. That’s your first thought as your gaze ran over Azrie’s features. From his long lashes, to the straight slope of his nose, and his soft, pouting lips, and to the rest of the sharp lines of his perfect face. Especially the way his dark curls fell over his forehead, tussled from sleep.

It was rare for you to wake up before him, an insomniac through and through. A light sleeper, barely getting a few hours of sleep. Typically waking up to find him admiring you. You folded your arm under your head, as your eyes kept taking in his sleeping face. So pretty.

“I can feel you staring.” Azriel’s morning voice will always make you melt. Deep and raspy. A small shiver running down your spine.

“I am not staring. I’m admiring.” your reply was soft as if to keep the quiet peace in your space.

A huff passing through his lips at your word, eyes fluttering open to meet your loving gaze, his eyes still half-lidded from sleep. The corner of his lips lifting slightly seeing the upward tilt of your own.

“Hi.” your smile growing, a chuckle escaping him in response. But he replies regardless “Hi.” his own sleepy smile growing even bigger. You lift your hand, fingers softly tracing his features, his honeyed eyes tracking your movements.

Azriel’s arm tugging you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. A wet kiss placed on the junction of your shoulder and neck. Your giggle fills the room, and you feel his lips quirk up upon hearing it.

Fingers threading through his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. a deep hum rumbled through his bare chest, pressed against yours. Warmth spreading across your body from the feeling of it.

Lifting his head, onyx locks falling across his forehead, as he looked into your eyes. You gently pulled Azriel’s head towards yours, noses brushing against each other before your lips meet in a soft kiss filled with love and warmth. But it turns heated after a few long moments.

Azriel shifted to hover over you, lips never disconnecting, and your fingers never leaving his hair. thighs spreading enough for him to settle between them. bodies pressed flush against each other. Even being mated for so many years, his taste and feel always managed to make you feel like an inexperienced, horny teenager. Though it seemed he felt the same as his rough calloused hands roamed and explored every inch of your body.

Only pulling away when breathing was needed, but your foreheads rested against one another rather than separating any further. Half-lidded eyes both so full desire and adoration, locked on to each other. Words weren’t needed in these kinds of mornings.

But you couldn’t help but say it aloud anyway, “I love you.” voice breathless and barely above a whisper.

Azriel’s dimpled grin in response was so breathtaking it made your breath hitch. “And I love you.” he vowed. Scarred hands rubbing up and down your side as if to reinforce his declaration.

Your hands run down his back, just enjoying the feeling of him. The strong muscles, forged from centuries of training and fighting, and his smooth but scar flecked skin. Fingers brushing back up, past the base of his wings—earning a shudder from him—up to the swirling tattoos across his chest, gently tracing the lines. Tenderly lacing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

Azriel leaned back down capturing your lips in a deep kiss once again, tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips, easily parting to let him in. Love and devotion clear in every press of his lips against yours.

Mornings like these were perfect, because of him.

─────────────────────────

a/n: I know this isn’t perfect and there might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This is my first fic, and I’m lowkey scared, but I hoped you liked it. <3

[mudandmire]

Changes

Azris Week - Day 6: Changes

~~~ Little heavy for @azrisweek day 6, but I've had this scene in my head for days now and wanted to do it justice. I hope I did! Thank you all for reading, hope you enjoy!! :D ~~~

Fixing it

The salve Azriel uses for his hands now has to be restocked in the washroom cabinet every week. A supply that once lasted him two, sometimes three weeks, is running out faster than before.

Azriel will never complain—never whine or groan about how quickly he runs out of salve. Because all of it is going to Eris, and there is not a more worthy cause to use up all the burn salve in the world than him.

Sunlight slants through the window, golden and liquid where it pools on the wood floor and in the wash basin. Azriel brushes his hand on Eris’s right shoulder, gentle and searching, down to his arm. Eris startles slightly—he always does these days, but Azriel knows not to take it personally.

“Mina’s down for her nap,” he says softly, his other arm wrapping around his waist, “we should change your bandages, sweetheart.”

Azriel knows a time when Eris would have turned to him, a smirk tugging at his pink lips that Azriel would kiss at just to make them bloom into a smile.

He now knows a time when Mina isn’t crying, or fussing, or sick, Eris is quiet. Pensive. He leans more to his right, turns to his right, his right hand following Azriel whenever he falls to his left side.

He presses gentle kisses to fabric on his shoulder, waits patiently for Eris to say something. Or nothing, they’ve cultivated a comforting silence like their own secret garden over the years—it’s come in handy. This is one of those times.

“Are her wings doing better today?” Eris’s voice is quiet, raspy from how little he talks.

Azriel’s eyes fall shut, melting into the line of Eris, chest to back, pulse to pulse. He’s near dead on his feet with exhaustion. Taking care of an infant, an Illyrian infant when neither of them had very good childhoods was certainly a learning curve. Unfortunately for both of them; the curve seemed to be carving out most—if not all—of their sleep.

“They are, yeah. A little sore by the tendons, but Mumiah took a look today and said it’s most likely growing pains.” He mumbles into the warm skin of his neck, eyes still closed.

“That’s good.” Eris whispers. His own hands, spurred on my the littlest of good news, the best news when it comes to them, find Azriel’s and lock around them.

“C’mon,” Azriel says, stepping away from the heat of his body and leading him to the washroom, “we need to change the bandages before she wakes up.”

“We don’t need to do anything, Azriel.”

Azriel pauses in the doorway of the washroom, spinning on his heel and fixing Eris with the sternest look he can possibly conjure when he’s one second away from either bursting into tears, falling asleep, or kissing Eris so hard both of them forget the past month. Past year, past whole of their lives. Until they’re nothing but warmth and starlight and forever.

“I’m saying this once: It’s not a chore, Eris. You changed my bandages for months, was it ever an obligation for you?”

“Azriel—no, that’s not what I meant.”

“Sweetheart,” his fingers ghost along the cotton gauze of the edge of the bandage. “I know what this is like, intimately. I know what you’re thinking so I need you to understand this isn’t a chore, or a job, or whatever else you think it is. I do this because I want to, because I love you, because I want to do everything with you.” He holds Eris by his chin, waiting for the love his life to meet his gaze.

Eris swallows hard, a glossy sheen over his eyes. “I love you.” He whispers back.

He pecks his lips gently, “love you, besheirt. Will you let me change your bandages, now?”

“If you must.” He grumbles, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

Azriel brings him further into the washroom, settling him at the counter near the basin. “I must.”

He runs his hand under the water, Eris handing him the little bar of soap. “Is the new milk working better for her?”

Azriel shrugs, patting his palms dry with the towel. “Depends—I think we can do as much as we can, but as long as she doesn’t have a mother…” A pinch appears between his brows, and he shakes his head.

“It kills me we can’t be what she needs.” Eris whispers, softer than intended.

Azriel watches him carefully, paying close attention to the bandaged left side of his face and neck, down to his shoulder. The same sentiment had been running through his head, too. How no matter how gentle and loving, no matter how they gave her a soft bed with all the furs and blankets she could want or sourced different milks from all over Prythian—they couldn’t be what she most needed, at this stage.

“We’ll get there.” He’s reassuring both of them, but it comes out uncertain.

“I want to be good enough, Azriel. I need to be good enough for her.”

Azriel nearly breaks his concentration from where he’s cautiously peeling away the bandage from Eris’s skin. He knows it’s painful, knows how many nerves are sparking and screaming. But Eris bears through it, nothing but the tight clench of his jaw and his hands curled into fists on his lap revealing otherwise.

“You are good enough, Eris.”

“No, I’m not, I’m—” he cuts off, one hand gesturing widely to his face, the piece of mangled, scarred skin revealed by the peeled off bandage.

Azriel bites down hard on his lip. No, this past month and a half hasn’t been easy. But one of the hardest things has to have been watching Eris—lit up from the inside with his copper hair and his trickster grin and that caring, daring heart—fall into a shell. A safe cocoon of vacancy and indifference.

It kills him, that he can’t be what either of them needs. Can’t stretch himself far enough, can’t give parts of himself away like bandages or the right milk to fix whatever’s broken. He can stitch by hand, mend by touch; but give nothing of what the two loves of his life actually need.

He swallows past the knot in his throat, letting it bob along the rising tide of despair that swells till it reaches the back of his tongue.

Azriel lets the silence be for now as he works away the rest of the bandage around Eris’s left ear, the one that stretches down to his neck. Soft apologies slip from his lips with every hidden wince, every caught whimper that Eris keeps behind his teeth.

When it comes away, fully, Azriel discards it and looks at him. There used to be a time where Eris relished being the center of Azriel’s unwavering attention—the star that kept his gaze. It’s just another thing Azriel has had to adjust to: like touching Eris on his right shoulder before greeting him, changing his bandages at odd hours when Mina finally cries herself to sleep, and keeping his gaze light. Easy. Not a search light or heavy, shared secret—but simple.

Azriel does so what is silently asked of him when Eris curls in on himself. His eyes skate around the ridges of his scars, the angry, raw sheen of it and the tight, whitened edges.

“It’s healing at the ends, so that’s good.” He says quietly, a damp, soaped cloth in his hand he begins to blot gently over the burn.

“Mm.” Is all he says, amber eyes cast down to where his fingernails pick at his cuticles until small drops of blood bead.

Azriel cups his fingers in his. “It is good. It means this isn’t forever.” His voice is stronger, head ducking down to meet Eris’s gaze. “And,” he starts, “even if it was—this doesn’t mean you’re not good enough, Eris.”

“Then what does it mean, Azriel. Because from where I’m standing—sitting—it means I completely failed.”

“Gach’lilit, failed what? The only one who’s a culprit here is ten feet underground in a pile of ash. Your father is the one who failed you, failed your family but most of all you.”

“How am I supposed to—” his voice breaks, “how am I supposed to care for her, raise her and love her when I struggle to do that for myself most days? Azriel, this isn’t—”

“That’s why I’m here. That’s why you’re here. So when we fall short—because stars, Eris, we will constantly fall short—we have one another to pick up the slack. To pick each other up, dust us off, and send us on our way with a kiss.”

He laughs wetly. “Where did you learn all this wisdom, my love?”

“Zebedee.” He says simply. “He wasn’t my father, not by blood, but he was the father I needed.”

Eris nods with quiet contemplation. “And we’ll be the fathers Mina needs. Not ‘cause we’re blood, but because she’s ours—and we’re hers.”

“Exactly, gach’lilit.” He’s patting the burn salve on gently against the burn, his touch so light, it would be a whisper.

Eris’s hands circle his wrists when he pulls away. “I never meant to insinuate scars mean you’re unworthy, my love. I’m sorry.” He brings them up to his lips, pressing gentle, open mouthed kisses to each place he knows twinges with a dull ache now and then. The palm of his hands, the knobby knuckles of his fingers, the sensitive skin on the inside of his wrists.

Azriel sighs softly, wings shuddering, letting Eris’s lips take the path they want and basking in the warmth they emanate.

“Do you remember,” he says, and Eris glances up through the fan of his copper eyelashes, “the first week or two we had Mina and how she would just cry every time I held her?”

Eris frowns, his lips turning down where they’re pressed against Azriel’s hand. He nods.

“How she cried, and wiggled, and tried to get out of my arms—but every time you held her she would settle down enough to fall asleep.” Azriel casts back his memory to those first few dark weeks—Eris having just come back from his father, scarred and shattered, now deciding to raise a little Illyrian girl with no home, no parents, no living relatives to speak of.

Azriel gives Eris a grimace. “I thought she hated my hands, the feel of them. I thought I’d never be able to hold our daughter because of these.” He gestures to them with his head, fingers twitching in Eris’s grip.

“But,” he whispers, “you told me otherwise. And you didn’t just tell me, you helped find a solution.” He wings flutter gently, rustling the still afternoon air, and Eris’s eyes dip down to his tunic.

A smile quirks his lips. “Who knew infants had such specific fashion tastes.”

“Who knew—you did.” Azriel scoffs a laugh, his head thrown back.

“Well, I didn’t know, it was a guess. I just wanted to fix it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, “so, guess what I’m doing?” He says, holding up the clean bandages with raised brows.

Eris sighs, but he’s smiling and Azriel will count it as a win. Sunshine’s come back, at least for now, and when the clouds come back—because they will—he’ll sit with him then, too.

“Fixing it?” Eris guesses for show, but his soft eyes tell Azriel the truth.

“Yep.” He says, beginning to wrap the cotton gauze around the burn, now shining with ointment. “Because that’s what we do.”

“I fix it when it turns out you need to wear softer clothes, not Illyrian leathers, when holding Mina.” Eris finishes.

“And I fix it when you need your bandages changed—or if you need to sleep on the other side of the bed to be closer to her, to hear her better.” His careful, steady hands press the edges of the bandage down, keen eyes watching Eris for any flicker of pain or discomfort.

“How’s that, too tight?”

Eris leans forward, pressing his lips to his with a sigh Azriel catches and keeps. His arms circling around to rest on Eris’s waist.

“You always do it perfect, love, you know that.”

Azriel’s features twist. “Not always, I remember the first couple times I botched it because I was used to putting bandages on me, not on someone else.”

Eris’s hands run up the length of his arms to his shoulders, hanging loosely around his neck as the tip of his nose nudges against his cheek. “Yes, but you never hurt me.”

“Mm, never.” Azriel says against his mouth. Quiet, a declaration. Not to Eris, because he knows, but after a life of abuse from someone who was supposed to have made that same promise, Azriel didn’t mind vowing it out loud now and then.

It’s easy to bask in each other—the golden sunlight filling the room, warming their sides and arms, making them glow like some ancient, lovely carving of devotion. Eris keeps their foreheads pressed together, and Azril makes sure he’s nowhere near the bandage. Their eyes have fallen closed; whether from exhaustion or contentment, neither know. It remains easy, sitting in silence like this; their cultivated garden, their familiar cluster of stars.

A sharp cry echoes from the bedroom. Loud and wailing, heavy for being the product of such little lungs.

Eris laughs, and his breath brushes against Azriel’s mouth—who can’t help but press forward slightly to kiss him. Eris slips off the counter, a light in his eyes rekindled and Azriel smiles at him warmly.

“C’mon,” Eris says, “we have a little terror to feed.”

Azriel throws his head back in a laugh. Exhausted, drained, completely and utterly dead on his feet; he’s slightly afraid that if he even sees a bed he’ll fall asleep—but there is absolutely no grander part of his life than this. Nothing more luxurious than helping Eris change his bandages. Nothing more simple, but lovely, than watching as the first love of his life coos a soft greeting, and picks up the second to cradle her small body against his chest.

Golden sunlight pools around them, stars of a different kind, and Azriel walks forward to join them.

~~///~~///~~///~~

Alright yay cool they don't make me want to bang my head against a wall at a l l. I know nothing about changing burn bandages please don't come at meeee. The editing for this is rushed because I'm trying to get it out before work lol so I'll fix mistakes when I get back.

I can't believe azris week is almost over???? That's crazy this has been so so fun I'm gonna miss it so much :((

[azsazz]

The Magic Number

Kinktober Day 28: Hockey Player!Azriel, Rhysand, & Cassian x Reader [Overstimulation]

Summary: Req from godsend @vellichor01 : For the hockey idea, I love the idea of Azris or poly!batboys using you 😏😏 as their good luck charm the night before the championship game

Warnings: Smut, oral (both f and m receiving), use of toys (vibrator), fingering, anal, double penetration, foursome.

Word Count: 5,258

Notes: I'm having one of those moments...

_________________________________________

“C’mon, you know how this goes,” Cassian drawls, stroking a thumb across your cheek. His words are soft, kind, but the heat swallowing the color of his eyes is anything but. It makes your cunt pulse. “Been our lucky charm all this season, can’t break the streak now, can we, baby?”

You hum, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Excitement stirs your gut as you stare up at the three, large hockey players taking up the expanse of your tiny living room. Azriel leans against the door they’d just come through, his hazel gaze pinned on you. Rhys is perched on the edge of your desk, arms crossed over his chest, looking every bit as serious as the captain of the hockey team should be. And Cass stands before you, his stature demanding and hot. They make you ache to your very core. “What’s in it for me?” You tease, batting your lashes.

“I can promise you at least three earth-shattering orgasms,” Cassian responds, pointing from Rhys to Azriel, then to himself.

Your face contorts, nose scrunching at his words. “Only three?”

Cassian’s eyes glitter. “Think you can handle more?”

You tilt your chin up in defiance. You know you can handle more. Have spent weekends locked away with them, ripping orgasm after orgasm from you until you’d lost count, had been nothing but a sobbing, shaking, wet mess beneath their lips and fingertips.

“I just don’t know if that’s enough anymore, boys,” you sigh dramatically, pulling your chin from his grasp. “You get all of this luck and I get to be sore for days? How is that fair?” You’re lying, and they know you’re lying. You’re not just terrible at it, but you love being sore for days, feeling where their cocks have abused your cunt with each step you take. You love the marks that their needy, manhandling hands leave on your skin, the bruises from their teeth and lips. You bite your own, shoving that thought from your mind.

“What do you want then, darling?” Rhys purrs, pushing himself from the desk to make his way closer. Azriel follows on an unspoken command, until they flank Cassian’s sides. They loom over you like Gods, and you have to crane your neck back to peer up at them from your spot on the couch. Fuck, they look absolutely stunning. How you’ve managed to bag the three star players of the hockey team, you’ll never know. Rhys’ voice takes on a huskeir note, violet eyes simmering with molten desire as he continues, “Want to tie us up and take what’s yours? Want to watch us fuck each other? All we need from you is one orgasm each, darling, and we’ll win the championship game tomorrow, I know it.”

His words make you shiver. Is that what you want? To be in charge for the night? You’d been doing this with them for the entire season, but the thought had never crossed your mind. You’re usually too cock drunk to form a coherent thought.

But the way that they tower over you, looking down at you as if you’ve changed their entire world, makes your stomach flip. They’ve always taken care of you, all three of them, and it’s more than nice, being guided into positions that put your pleasure first. They know you better than you know yourself. Sexually, they know you inside and out. They are the epitome of men right now, burly and large and oh so fucking irresistible. It makes you want to open your mouth and part your legs, let them have your way with you.

You just might.

You look from Rhysand to Cassian, Cassian to Azriel. They’re fresh from practice, hair damp from showers at the rink, tight shirts stretched across broad shoulders with the exception of Cassian, he would never wear a piece of clothing again if he had the choice, and comfortable gray sweats hang low around their waists like they know what it does to you. 

Godsdamn what it does to you.

“Come on, baby,” Cassian all but whines when you don’t respond. “What can we do to convince you this is for the good of the team?”

Nothing. They don’t have to do a damn thing to convince you of this, because you know. Somehow, the three hockey players you’ve found yourself fucking this season decided that you were their lucky charm, having won each and every game after they’d shared you. It’s something of a pre-game tradition now.

But it’s still fun to tease.

“I don’t know,” you coo, leaning back in your seat. You slip your toes between Cassian’s wide stance and prop your feet on the coffee table behind him. “I think that Tarquin on the Sea Lion's is pretty goo—”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Azriel growls, eyes so dark it makes your thighs quiver.

“What if, this time,” Rhysand leans down, planting his hands on either side of the couch, trapping you. His sultry voice awakens goosebumps on your skin, his breath hot in his ear as he leans down, lips brushing the shell. “We stuff you with our cum, then shove a little plug up that tight little cunt of yours to secure our luck. You’d like that darling, wouldn’t you? To be stuffed with us until after the game? Keeping you nice and full?”

You nearly bite through your lip holding in a moan. Your head threatens to teeter back on your neck, eyes rolling back into your skull as a full shiver wracks your body in the best way. Holy fuck do you love it when they talk dirty to you, planting new ideas in your head, things beyond your wildest dreams.

Cassian’s adding, watching you struggle with a smirk. “When we win, I’ll eat it out of you.”

“Isn't showing up to the game enough?” you ask innocently, thighs pressed so tightly together they’re shaking with effort. But you’re being strong. There’s still room to play with them.

“No,” they all answer in unison. 

It’s Azriel who takes a gentler approach. It’s a little surprising. He’s normally the quietest of the three, saving soft spoken endearments for when it’s just the both of you or when the other two have fallen into post-orgasm cat naps. 

He kneels before you, hands brushing up your bare legs in what is supposed to be a soothing manner, but the motion only makes you hotter. Wetter. He’s looking at you with sincerity, like he might actually believe that you’re going to refuse them.

As if that would ever happen.

“What do you want, love?” he asks, so gently it nearly makes your heart crack. The strokes of his thumbs on your skin match his tone, tender. 

“I want you to kiss me, Az.”

He can do that. He spreads your legs to slip between, using his grip on the meat of your thighs to pull you closer. You’re the same height as him, sitting on the couch as he is kneeling, and you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers burying deep into those dark locks. His touch wanders to your face, caressing your jaw before pulling you into a slow, sensual kiss.

Your body bursts with pleasure. His tongue strokes softly against your own as he parts your lips. It’s a tentative motion, but becomes more sure when you whimper softly into his mouth. Azriel’s fingers grip loosely to the nape of your neck, pulling you even closer to him. So close, that you can feel the erratic pounding of his beating heart pressed against your own.

You can feel Cassian and Rhysand’s heated gazes on the both of you. It feels all too good, having their attention like this. Knowing that with the slightest of moves on your part, they’ll all be harder than stone. It eggs you on, kiss going from slow and steady, an exploration of each other’s mouths, to something hotter, rougher. Azriel sucks on your tongue and nips at your lips. Your fingers tug at his hair as your spine lengthens, pressing yourself closer to his chest.

Kissing Azriel is like being shrouded in shadow. He consumes you, body and soul. It’s the best kind of kiss, one that calms you when you’re anxious, a strong and steady presence. You can lose yourself for days in the taste of his lips, the feeling of his sure posture against yours.

Cassian takes hold of you quickly, inserting himself into the kiss you and Azriel find yourselves lost in. You make a noise of surprise. Having both of them licking into your mouth is no easy feat, but somehow, the men seem to know exactly what to do, as if they’re as in-synch now as they are on the ice.

Slowly, Azriel edges himself away from the kiss. He pries your fingertips from himself, no matter how much he loves the way you cling to him. He places them on Cassian’s shoulders, where you curl them harshly into his tanned skin and force him closer.

Kissing Cassian ignites a fire in your soul. It’s passionate, brash, and full of love. There is no doubt in your mind that this man was made for you, to walk through that fire for you, to reach your innermost self. He’s a warrior on and off the ice, in love and in life. He will fight for you no matter what, and you love him for it.

It’s always fun having Cassian like this, all needy and hot. His cock is swollen against the loose fabric of his sweatpants, and you can tell he’s not wearing underwear when you grind your hips against his, drawing a guttural moan from his lips. You drink it down greedily, keening in response. You’re getting just as desperate now, needing to feel their cocks in your cunt, filling you up with their cum until you’re so full you could burst.

But Rhysand is untangling you from Cassian with a look that leaves no room to argue. You’re panting, staring up at Cassian with a wildness that says this isn’t over. He grins, the sharps of his canines glinting in the lamp light. 

“Go, get ready,” Rhys orders the other two, and you cling to him as he lifts you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist as he strides towards the door. 

Instead of walking through it, he’s pressing you into the wall next to it, dipping down to devour your mouth in one fell swoop. 

Kissing Rhys makes you feel like a Queen. He’s demanding, showing you exactly what he wants. It makes you want to submit, fall to your knees and please him as he sees fit. It’s reassurance and confidence and pleasure in its finest form. He makes you feel like you’re on top of the world, like your soul belongs to something more. You would bow for him, and he for you.

He hooks his knee up, settling your weight onto it as his fingers find the hem of your shirt. His mouth is a distraction for his hands, gliding the fabric up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a fleeting moment before he’s grabbing you again and plastering your front to his chest  as he strides towards your room.

You’re lost in the way his tongue dances with yours. You love to hear his words, silky and playful, skilled with years of business classes, his backup if hockey doesn’t work out someday.

Rhys places you on the bed, breaking the kiss, but before you can even whimper your displeasure, Cassian’s boxing you in, fitting himself between your legs as you slide backwards. He follows like a hungry lion, devouring you with his gaze.

“Enjoyed that, didn’t you, darling?” Rhys grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes are wide, but you can’t remove them from Cassian’s wolfish grin as he prowls towards you, backing you into the headboard. “But look what Cassian’s got for you.”

“First, you’ll cum on my toy, then on Az’s fingers, and then on Rhys’ tongue,” Cassian presses his words into your mouth, rolling his hips against yours. It makes you cling to him desperately, and he smirks against your lips. You lick over his straight teeth, tasting his tease. He parts himself from you, sucking at the sensitive skin between your jaw and ear. His tone is low, filled with desire and gravel that scratches the right parts of you when he continues. “And then, when you’re crying and begging, maybe we’ll give you our cocks. If you think you can handle it.”

Your body wracks with a shiver so violent Cassian’s façade falters. If it weren’t for your reassuring hand clawing across his bare shoulders, he would’ve asked you if you were alright. 

So the charade continues. You want to fight back, want to push them to the edge like they are you, because if they’re going to insist on fucking you for the good of their game, no matter how badly you want it, you’re going to make them work for it. You don’t hand out this kind of luck without some effort.

“Maybe I won’t give you my cunt at all,” you pant, chest rising and falling against Cassian’s. It feels like he’s crushing you, body pressed firmly to your own. You can hear Rhysand digging around in your drawer, looking for the pastel colored vibrator you have stuffed away. Azriel watches you with a heated gaze that sharpens at your words, pinning you to the bed just as effortless as Cassian is. “Maybe the sex after a loss is better than after a win.”

 Azriel all but growls, taking the chance to climb up on the bed with you and Cassian. You remove one of the hands you have buried in Cassian’s thick locks, reaching out to touch Azriel. You want them all, love when all of their attention is on you like this. Your thighs try to clench but Cassian’s hips pin them wide and he gently rocks into you, nipping at the skin around your bra strap before taking it between his teeth and pulling it from your shoulder. 

You rest your palm against Azriel’s cheek when he’s near enough, and though his serious gaze doesn’t soften, he leans into your touch, pressing kisses to your palm. “Baby, I think we both know that isn’t true.”

Gods, does he make you melt. They all do, stripping down and baring themselves to you. Each one of them is tall, tan, and muscular. They are Gods kneeling before you, worshiping you in every way.

You want that to start now.

As if reading your mind, Rhys places the pastel wand into Cassian’s awaiting grip. His grin turns into something feral as he rips your panties from your legs, fingers curling between you and the mattress to unhook your bra. 

Azriel takes over, hands palming at your breasts as he moves the clothing. Cassian clicks the vibrator on and your legs want to close in response. You’re so fucking wet you know that you’re glistening for them, and with the speed at which Cassian sets your little toy, you won’t last very long, especially when the other two crowd around you and all three men stare down at you like you’re something worth devouring.

“Is it true?” Cass asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer, pressing the buzzing toy to your already throbbing clit when you begin to speak. Your words sizzle into a moan, your body arching into the vibrations, hips wriggling as you chase the feeling it’s stirring in your gut. Az and Rhys hold you down, and they all watch in pleasure as Cassian plays with you. “You think losing sex is better?”

Normally, he’s all fun and games, built for edging you until you take control and sit yourself on his cock, but today, with the taunts in the air and the looming game at the back of their minds, he’s more eager to draw as many orgasms from you as he can. He needs to stuff you so full of his cum, right down until the minute he dares step foot on the ice for the championship game. He needs to see you in the crowd, hardly able to sit because your cunt is that sore, cheering them on with their cum still leaking out of you.

“N—No,” you manage to get out, but you hardly know what you’re babbling about. You cling to Rhys and Az, who mouth at your breasts as you writhe, pinning your arms to the bed. Your back arches as Cass finds that spot, the vibrator stimulating your clit with such an intensity, heat rushes to your core like a dam breaking. “Cass, ah—please baby, yeah, yeah, right there!” 

“Right here?” He asks, and dread fills your body. You know that voice, and you chase the orgasm as fast as you can before he— “Or down here?” You cry out in frustration as he moves the wand lower, a buzz dulling as he slicks it against your opening. 

“Az,” you whine, because you need more than just the toy. They’ve fucked you relentless, ruined everything for you, and now it’s no longer enough, not even when they’re away from you. “Need your fingers. Please!” You cry out when Cassian returns the vibrator to your clit, holding you still as you writhe.

He doesn’t hesitate, cock straining away from his body. He’d been ready for you since he awoke this morning, but practice had taken precedence before he could find his way to your apartment to fuck the bones from your body. He’s the most superstitious of the three, and not even your teasing he takes lightly. 

But he’s conditioned to need you, more than he needs his shooting hand before game days. He doesn’t know how or when this started, but he’s not complaining. He loves it, in fact, thinking about you all wet like this when he’s in the thick of the game, when he’s thinking about starting a fight or stuck in the penalty box. He’s also the most worried about it all, taking many nights pulling you aside to talk about the arrangement. To make sure you feel loved instead of used. To show you how much you mean to him. 

So, he doesn’t play around when he puts those skilled hands to work, plunging one into your cunt, then two because the first slides in easily. You cry out when he curls them, the shadow of a smile curving his lips in the most beautiful way.

“Hey,” Cassian pouts, “It doesn’t count as three if you and I are both doing it.” 

Azriel doesn’t look away from you, watching as you come undone from the incessant buzzing and him stroking the bundle of nerves inside of you. He wants you to break his skin with your nails, burst his eardrums with your screams, drown him in your cum. “Then make it two.” 

Cassian’s hazel eyes glint and he’s turning the setting higher. 

“Rhys, down on the bed,” Azriel demands after your second, earth-shattering orgasm. The captain of the hockey team does just that. You shiver at Azriel’s words. He’s usually quiet, but when he takes over in the bedroom not one of you strays from his commands, his low voice making those words even sexier. He kisses you softly, helping mauver your body so you’re straddling Rhysand’s face. “Cass, head of the bed, legs open.” He turns back to you, hazel gaze pinning you in place as Rhysnad’s rough hands begging trailing patterns across your thighs. Your cunt nearly drools on him, and your muscles tremble with the effort to keep yourself from sinking down onto that tongue of his. “Baby, I want to see you suck Cassian off while you ride Rhys’ face. You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty girl?”

You keen, falling into his touch around your throat. You need to kiss him, need to sink yourself down and feel the ridges of Rhys’ tongue, his nose digging into your clit. You need to taste the precum beading at Cassian’s ruddy tip, taunting you. You need to feel Azriel’s mouth on yours first, though.

He allows you one kiss. It’s slow and sensual on his side, desperate on your part. He doesn’t allow you to turn up the heat, keeping you pinned in place as Rhys guides your hips down. You squeak against Azriel’s lips at the first touch of Rhysand’s tongue, already grinding your hips against his eager mouth. 

Azriel’s fingers slide from your throat, gathering the hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, he guides you down to Cassian’s cock. It’s wet, leaking against his tight abs as he pins his hands behind his head, watching you with fire in his eyes. 

You steady yourself with hands on his thick thighs. Your body is already convulsing with pleasure, three orgasms and a handful more to go is what you’d been promised, but as Rhysand grazes his teeth across your sensitive clit, you cry out, hot breath fanning across Cassian’s cock. It twitches as he flexes. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Azriel coos, fisting Cassian’s cock, helping you steady yourself so you can take it into your mouth. Rhys’ pace is unhurried, but it still makes pleasure blind your gaze, eyes prickling with sensitivity. “C’mon, be a good girl and take his cock.”

You feel nearly boneless already, hardly able to hold yourself up as Azriel escorts Cassian’s throbbing cock into your mouth. You lick his slit and he hisses, head banging against the headboard as you suckle at his tip. His musk bursts across your tongue, heady and strong and utterly Cassian. You can’t help but moan, licking around the head, dragging down the silken skin as Azriel presses you onto it. All the way until he’s hitting the back of your throat.

“Relax, baby,” Azriel whispers, planting soothing kisses to your shoulders. It’s almost overwhelming how all three of them can be so gentle right now, when they’re finally getting what they need. Your need for them is overwhelming. You can see it now how well they work as a team, impeccable both on and off the ice. 

You love it. 

Your jaw falls slack at his soft words, and he’s pushing your head down, Cassian’s cock stretching your throat. Both men groan at the sight, and Cassian’s fingers find your cheek, caressing your face.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that,” Cassian praises, and you whimper in pleasure. Rhysand swirls his tongue and nips at your clit and you’re seeing stars, body wracking hot with the onslaught of an orgasm.

Cassian bucks and you choke, but you love it. They make you feel so full, even though your cunt aches with the need. You know you’ll get it soon enough. 

Azriel leaves you in Cassian’s care while he settles himself behind you. You can no longer see him, but he dips down, spreading your cheeks to lap at your hole. You startle and moan languidly at the sensation, melting into the three of them further.

You can hear him spit, and then his finger is breaching your ass. 

“Relax,” he murmurs again, curling his body around your own. The heat of his chest to your back is comforting, and you try your best to uncurl your muscles. “That’s it, just like that baby. Gooood girl.” His finger drags against your walls and you shiver, rocking back against the sting until he’s three fingers in and you’re moaning wanton around Cassian’s cock. 

You cry when Azriel removes his fingers, but he’s pressing up to his knees and slicking his cock between your sopping wet cunt and Rhysand’s tongue. Oh, that feels fucking incredible, your sensitive clit burns at the heat of his cock, cunt quivering from the three orgasms already.

“I don’t know if I can,” you whimper sliding off of Cassian’s cock with a cry. Tears stream down your face and Cassian’s brushing them away softly, swiping his thumb across your lips to clear the string of saliva away. Azriel’s teasing your entrance, holding your hips steady as Rhysand shuffles up the bed, his own leaking cock brushing against your cunt. You’d collapse on top of him if it weren’t for Azriel holding you up.

Rhys takes your face in hand, kissing you firmly, proudly, sharing the taste of you with him. He’s showing you how wet you are for them, how good you’re being, but you still make a noise when the tip of his cock brushes against your throbbing clit. “You can do it, baby,” he reassures, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Want to fill our darling girl with our cum. You want that, too, don’t you?” 

Fuck, you do. You really, truly do. You want to taste it, feel it, bathe in it until there’s no question in their minds that you aren’t theirs. Some day, this lucky streak might end, but until then, you want to be stuffed with them, feel their heat inside of you, filling every part of you to the brim. You want to swim in them, and them in you. You need it like ice needs the cold, like the Velaris Bats need a championship. 

“Yes,” you find yourself clawing at his muscles, drawing Cassian nearer by his cock as Azriel’s head slips into your ass. You groan, body sucking him in as you stare into the depths of Rhysand’s violet eyes.

The three of them consume you, and you, them. Once Azriel works himself in with a grunt, hips settled against yours, Rhys is nudging his cock into your dripping cunt. Your breathing goes a little ragged, but his lips are on your neck and you use that and Cassian’s cock as a distraction from the stretch.

They give you as long as you need to adjust, hands all over your body you can hardly focus on one thing. Why do that when there are so many delicious things happening at once? Your hand wrapped around Cassian’s girth, jerking him up and down while you suck and spit on the head of his cock. He groans in approval. You begin rocking back on both Rhysand and Azriel, letting them know with your loud noises that you’re more than ready for their cocks. Rhys’ mouth is attached to your breasts while Azriel’s sticks his fingers around your torso to flick at your clit.

Rhys and Azriel go from moving in synch to fucking into you, opposite in pace. Rhys pulls out while Azriel pushes in, one of them always filling you. It’s great, both of their cocks hot and heavy inside of your tight, wet holes. You shiver when their heads bump into each other through your walls, moaning around Cassian’s cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Azriel says, brushing the hair back from your shoulder. His movements are quickening, and heat rushes through you once again, your body bucking between theirs, following that feeling off of the edge. “Just like that.”

They fuck you through it, until you can hear the wet slaps of their hips against yours again, until your blackened vision clears, your movements lazy and slow as you grip Cassian’s cock like it’s the only thing holding you to this existence. 

“I’m almost there,” Rhys hisses, and he and Azriel are moving in time again, both of them pressing into you so deeply you can’t even breathe. They’re filling you up, hitting all of the right spots, and you can’t help the stream of tears and cries that fall from your lips. You might cum again, you think, as Cassian slides down to comfort you with his soft lips against your skin. 

“I’m cumming baby, f-fuck, yeah, I’m cumming pretty girl,” Azriel groans, pistoning his hips faster. The grip he has on your cheeks is biting, spreading them wide for his viewing pleasure as his strokes turn jerky. “Godsdamn, baby, I’m a lucky man.”

You body clenches and Rhysand chokes, following his friend. He holds you tightly, eyes squeezed shut in bliss as he fucks him cum deep into your womb. “Holy fuck, darling. Fucking made for us,” he grunts. The erratic pressing of their cocks filling your holes has you cumming again, milking you of another orgasm. 

“Fuuuuck,” Cassian mutters in awe as you blink through tears to look up at him. His hand caresses your jaw and he looks utterly destroyed by you and he hasn’t even gotten his chance yet. “Four orgasms? What a good girl, giving us all that.” 

You whimper, nuzzling into his touch as Azriel pulls slowly out of your ass. You cry out, grip going firm where you clutch to Rhysand’s shoulders, missing the loss of him already. But Az is kissing up your spine, scooping the cum already leaking from your hole only to stuff it back inside of you, swirling his fingers through the thick, white cum. 

“One more baby,” Rhysand coos, pressing kisses to your wet cheeks. You don’t think you can move even, you can hardly even keep your eyes open right now or your breathing controlled, allowing the three of them to manhandle you onto Cassian’s broad chest. 

You collapse against him, cum leaking from both your cunt and your ass, getting his hips and thighs all messy with it. But he loves it, loves holding you to his chest like this, looking down at you as you snuggle into him like you could fall asleep in bliss in a matter of breaths.

“Let me give you my cum,” he whispers into your hair and your body trembles with his words. You’re utterly spent, but your body needs his cum mixing with the others just as badly as they need the win. 

You nod against his chest, stroking a lazy hand down his torso. “Be gentle with me.”

He is. Cassian holds you close, rocking his hips in a steady, soft motion while you cling to him. He seems to be in no rush, but your cunt aches with every drag of his large cock, and you start writhing against him, a little uncomfortable but not yet willing to force him to stop. 

The others’ cum helps slick the way, and Cassian’s soothing words kissed to your forehead keep you somewhat calm. He lets you dig your fingers into his skin as hard as you need to, especially when his grip spans across your hips, pinning you to him so he can fuck into you as he chases his orgasm.

“Doing so well for me, baby. Gonna fill you up and get you all cleaned up with the others,” he murmurs, and it’s then you notice he’s silently asked Rhys and Az to leave. The shower is going in the attached bathroom. You can hear the cap of the body wash opening. “We’re going to take such good care of you, baby, for all those orgasms you gave us.” 

You sigh in response, much too tired to muster words. You tilt Cassian’s head down for a soft kiss instead, and then he’s panting against your mouth and fucking into you as he cums, swallowing your tender whimpers and moans.

“There we go, baby,” he coos, keeping his cock shoved in that pretty cunt because he knows you like that. He strokes your hair, letting you loll with the rhythm of his chest. “Helping us win the championship. Our little lucky charm.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Kinktober Taglist:@bunnymallowo@jeannineee@icey–stars@hannzoaks@harrystylesfan2686@azriels-shadowsinger @alysena2 @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @impossibelle @glitterypirateduck @reading-moongirl

[honeybeefae]

Shadows of Fire (Azriel x Reader x Eris)

Summary// You stumbled upon something that you should have never seen, something that would send two courts of Pyrthian into chaos if made public. After a week of trying to forget, the two men cornered you, leaving you nowhere to run even if you wanted. However, deep down inside, did you?

(Azris is like my OTP and writing this was SO fun. I love this idea of a reader sandwich and I cannot lie I have fantasized about this exact scenario multiple times. Enjoy this 4,600 smut fic! I hope you guys like it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, Threesome, Bondage, Edging, Orgasm Denial, MMF, Spitting

By the time you arrived back at your shared apartment, it was late. You weren’t even meant to be there tonight but the date you had planned went up in smoke. He was cocky and rude, staring at your breasts for most of the night while the rest was spent bragging about the women he slept with. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to him when you declined his invitation to go home with him but by the look on his face, he seemed shocked his moves hadn’t made you putty in his hands. You had to refrain from rolling your eyes when he sneered at you, storming off like a child.

Good riddance.

Your roommate, Azriel, had plans tonight and you hoped you wouldn’t be interrupted as you unlocked the door quietly. His late-night rendezvous often left at this time so your fingers were crossed that you wouldn’t walk in on something that would make your eyes bleed.

And it wasn’t that you thought he was unattractive. Anyone with two eyes could see that he was, with tan skin and a lean frame. Black tattoos covered his body which only added to his dangerous vibe not even counting the wings. You weren’t stupid enough to deny the attraction.

However, you also weren’t stupid enough to jeopardize a friendship for a fuck that could only end badly. Azriel didn’t “do” relationships and you had heard more than one girl leave angrily when he denied them the night. No matter how badly you might want to have sex with him you were not going to give in to the temptation.

The floor creaked under your bare feet as you gingerly walked down the hallway, keeping your eyes ahead as you strained to hear any noises. You cursed under your breath when you heard soft moans and grunts coming from his room, the smell of sex increasing with every step you took.

You picked up your pace and prayed to the Mother they didn’t hear you, not wanting to deal with Azriel’s agitation or god forbid a jealous woman thinking you were here to steal her man. As you beelined for your room beside his you saw the door to his bedroom slightly ajar and you froze when you heard something… unexpected.

“Oh, Az,” A deep, sultry voice moaned loudly. “I always knew you couldn’t resist me.”

That voice…didn’t belong to a woman. It also didn’t belong to just any man, at least not a regular one. Thanks to your emissary duties to the Autumn Court, you knew that voice like the back of your hand. 

That voice belonged to Eris.

Surprise was an understatement for what you were feeling as your feet cemented into the floor, your dark figure looming in the doorway as you saw the two of them. There were a few candles lit around the room, giving just the right amount of light for you to see the two sworn enemies in a very interesting position. 

Azriel had Eris pinned against a wall, his wings tucked in tightly as he bit and sucked at the red-headed male’s neck. Eris had his head thrown back in ecstasy, his hands digging into the Shadowsinger’s hips as he ground down onto his clothed thigh. They were both breathing heavily, their shirtless chests already coated in sweat. You knew you needed to leave, to pretend that you never saw the two of them like this, but something about them was hypnotic.

The way their bodies moved against each other, how Azriel’s shadows caressed the neglected areas of Eris while they shucked off the rest of their clothes. It was like they were the only two in the world. A thrill went down your spine at being such a voyeur to this scene, the taboo couple adding fuel to the fire as you felt yourself grow wet.

“I might put that mouth of yours to better use, prince,” Azriel growled as he grasped Eris’s cock through his boxers, his grin feral at how he melted into his touch. “You’re only good for sucking my cock anyways. Isn’t that right?”

One of your hands flew over your mouth to conceal the moan that wanted to escape as you watched Eris nod submissively, his knees hitting the floor as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was.

Azriel fisted Eris’s hair into his hand and guided him to his cock, his nostrils flaring as he got to work. You could only see his head bobbing up and down but your mind was ready to fill in the blanks, your fingers itching to bury themselves in your needy cunt.

“Oh, fuck, Eris,” The Illyrian growled loudly, his hips pistoning in and out as he used him as his fucktoy. You watched Eris palm at his red cock, the candlelight catching the bead of precum on his tip as he readily took everything Azriel gave to him.

Your fingers were teasing the waistband of your panties before you sent them further south, rubbing your clit through your underwear. It was just the right amount of friction that had you biting your tongue to keep quiet as you watched them. 

After only a few seconds of teasing yourself, you couldn’t wait any longer and hastily pushed your panties aside to shove your fingers inside yourself. You knew it wasn’t going to be enough but you kept fucking yourself, matching your thrusts with Azriel's as their moans grew louder. 

Everything was getting too hot, too fast, and you gripped the doorway to steady yourself, freezing when it creaked under your weight.

No, no, no, no…

Both men froze and turned to look where the sound had come from, their gazes full of surprise and what looked like anger as they took in your form, your smell, and your hand down your pants. You blinked once before yanking your fingers out of your still-dripping core and running out the apartment door, slamming into an innocent person who just happened to be walking by.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” You spluttered as you kept running, waving a hand behind you while weaving through the streets. The night air was cold on your skin as you looked behind you, making sure you weren’t followed before you finally stopped to lean against a building. “What the fuck have I done?”

Both of your hands went up to grab the sides of your head as you looked up at the stars, shaking your head in disbelief. You had lost yourself in watching them, their passion, and not only intruded on their very personal moment but also fucked yourself while watching.

You had just ruined not one but two relationships for a stupid, lust-driven decision. Azriel would never be able to look you in the eyes again and Eris…mother above, your already shaky relationship with his court has now crumbled completely.

“I am so screwed…I might as well pack my shit up tonight.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to stop your bottom lip from quivering as your anger turned to sadness. 

“Why would you do that?” A raspy voice asked from beside you, making you jump and whip around. Your eyes widened in fear when you saw Azriel leaning casually against the wall, Truthteller twirling in his hands. “Did you see something you weren’t supposed to?”

“Azriel, I-” You tried to explain, taking a nervous step back only to bump into a solid mass. Your throat bobbed as you leaned your head back to find a smirking Eris. “Guys, listen, I am so sorry-”

“Are you though?” Eris tilted his head, grabbing your forearms roughly and spinning you around to face him. “You could have run, you could have gone to bed, but you stood there watching us…”

“With your fingers shoved in your needy little cunt.” Azriel finished for him, pushing himself off the wall to come up behind you. “What you saw tonight…it does not leave your mouth, do you understand?”

You hesitated, your entire body on high alert as you were sandwiched between the two men, and you flinched when you saw Az’s eyes darken. Before you could blink he had his scarred fingers gripping your face painfully, his nose brushing against yours as he bent down and said, “Answer me.”

“I swear on my life.” You promised quickly, eyes flickering between the two of them. “I won’t tell anyone just please let me go, please don’t hurt me.”

He held you for a moment longer before letting go, both of them stepping back as you took in much-needed air with a hand over your chest. Adrenaline was coursing through your body as you started to walk away, resisting the urge to run, until something cool wrapped around your wrist and yanked you back.

Your feet stumbled but you caught your footing before you could faceplant, looking down to see one of Azriel’s shadows holding your arm. You lifted your frantic gaze upwards only to see them both smirking devilishly.

“Do you smell that?” Azriel hummed, raising a brow towards Eris as the redheaded nodded and clicked his tongue.

“I do…it’s the same smell that was in the apartment when Y/N was fucking herself,” Eris replied. You could feel a shift in the air as they watched you with wicked delight. The sound of your heartbeat was roaring in your ears as you struggled against the shadowy binds only to gasp when a rope of fire slithered around your other arm. “Where do you think you’re going, pet?”

“The fun is just starting.” The Spymaster smiled as they both tugged you forward roughly, sending you spiraling towards them until four large hands caught you and straightened you out. “You wanted to watch us so badly. Let us put on a proper show for you.”

“No, I don’t-” You tried to protest only to shudder when you felt a pair of warm lips on the shell of your ear, the heat of the fiery bonds increasing briefly as Eris dragged a hand down the side of your body. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did and when you looked up you saw Azriel watching you with hooded eyes. 

“Are you sure about that, mouse? Look at how quickly you’re coming apart.” He snickered, cupping your face and running his thumb over your bottom lip. “We’ve barely even touched you and you look like you’re ready to burst.”

Eris continued his lazy exploration of your body while his mouth caressed your neck. Your hands were fisted at your sides as Azriel watched on, licking his lips as he slipped the pad of his thumb into your mouth. “Suck it.”

And despite all the qualms you had about this situation, about the two of them, you found yourself immediately listening to his instructions. You took the large digit and started sucking and swirling your tongue around it, the slight groan from Az’s throat only spurring you on.

“Good girl.” Eris whispered into your ear. 

Another shiver ran down your spine from his words as you closed your eyes to avoid the embarrassment of how much this was turning you on. However, Azriel seemed to want to watch how they were affecting you. Both of their bonds suddenly disappeared as you stumbled back, barely catching yourself against the wall as you glared at them.

“What the hell?” You huffed, crossing your arms before letting out a small shriek as Eris threw you over his shoulder. Your fists banged against his back while your feet kicked around but a loud, hard slap to your ass got you to still momentarily.

“Save your voice for the bedroom, pet. You’re going to need it.” He chuckled with a glance over at Azriel, the two of them nodding before you felt yourself drop into nothingness. Your stomach churned as you winnowed into Azriel’s bedroom, Eris dropping you roughly on the bed as the Spymaster swooped in from the balcony.

“I truly am sorry, more than sorry even, for invading your privacy.” You swallowed thickly, your palms sweaty. “What I did was wrong and perverted and-”

“Mother above, shut her up, Eris.” Azriel rolled his eyes, smiling when your eyes widened as a thick rope of fire tightened around your throat. It wasn’t tight enough to cut off your airway but you knew he could if he wanted. “Spare us the holier than though speech, mouse.”

“I’m just-” You tried to argue only to gasp when the fire grew hotter. Your skin starts to sweat from the heat and you realize that four more binds have wrapped around your wrists and ankles, spreading you open for the two of them. Eris also used the opportunity to burn your clothes to dust, the wind scattering it across the floor as he left you bare for them.

“You just what? You just stood there and watched as I fucked Eris’s mouth? Stood there and touched yourself to the sight of the two of us?” Azriel was now on top of you, his eyes dark and tone seductive. “Admit it, Y/N. Admit it to yourself that you enjoyed watching us. Admit that deep down inside you are nothing but a wanton whore.”

“I’m not!” You denied, frowning, only to thrash and struggle as a cloth was shoved into your mouth. “Mmm! Mphm!”

Azriel clicked his tongue while shaking his head, stepping back onto the floor and turning to Eris. “Shall we continue before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“What about her?” Eris jerked his head towards you as you still struggled against your restraints. He frowned and narrowed his eyes, the flames licking up your skin burning fiercely for a moment until you whimpered in pain. “I must admit, I’ve wanted to taste her from the moment she walked into my court.”

“As soon as she can admit to herself that she loves watching and being treated like this, she can join us. Until then…” Azriel trailed off, grabbing Eris’s hips and pulling him towards him. The redhead grinned and kissed him with a passionate fire you could feel from the bed, their teeth clashing as they hastily removed their clothing.

You bit down on the cloth as their cocks sprang free from the confine of their pants, both of them impossibly large and thick. Azriel had more length while Eris was slightly girthier, though you know what mattered more was how they used it. Wetness began to pool between your thighs once more as you wriggled slightly, trying to gain some friction.

“Knees. Now.” Azriel commanded, his chest rumbling when Eris readily responded and took his cock in his mouth. It was already hard and you moaned loudly when you saw Eris’s throat bob with every inch he took of the Illyrian. 

Your fingers flexed as you watched him swallow Azriel down to the base, the Shadowsinger making a choking sound before grabbing a fistful of red hair and holding him there for several seconds. Tears were welling up in Eris’s eyes as he struggled to breathe but he never fought against Az’s hold. He took everything he was giving him.

“Good boy, good fucking boy,” Azriel grunted, finally letting him come up for air as he turned to look at you. “Look at how wet you’ve made her, Eris. She’s soaking the sheets.”

“Fuck, she looks delicious…” Eris moaned. “Are you ready to submit yet, pet? Ready to show us how good you can be?”

You hesitated, struggling with the moral and immoral thoughts swirling around your brain, and whined when Azriel shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his lover. “Her loss.” He said, using Eris’s hair to guide him back to his throbbing dick. “Eyes on me, prince.”

He had no hesitation as he went back to work on his cock, his hands rubbing where his mouth couldn’t reach. Your mouth went dry as you saw Azriel grow more and more desperate, his hips snapping in time with Eris’s sucking. Every inch of your skin felt as if you were on fire and when you saw Azriel shove him all the way down his throat, spilling inside him, your resolve finally broke.

“Mmmph! Mmm!” You garbled through the makeshift gag, your pussy weeping with how desperate you were. They ignored you, lost in their own euphoria as Eris’s own cock jerked in need of release. 

“Don’t swallow it, greedy prince. Keep my cum warm for me while I check on our little voyeur.” Az smirked, gingerly pulling out of his mouth before strolling towards you. His cock was glistening with Eris’s spit and his own cum, already starting to get hard again as you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Something to say, mouse? Do you need something?” He taunted, one of his shadows ghosting over your swollen cunt. It made you buck your hips as you struggled to talk, gasping for air when Azriel yanked the wet gag out of your mouth. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I like it. I like it and I shouldn’t but I do,” You rambled, chest heaving with each word. “I’m a dirty slut who liked it just please, please fucking touch me. I’m begging you. I need it.”

Azriel mulled over your words, the shadow pressing more firmly on your clit. You knew if he kept going you would cum in no time, your inner walls already clenching as you bit down on your lip to try and control yourself. 

“Was that good enough for you, Eris?” Azriel asked, smirking when he saw him already climbing up the end of the bed. “Or should we make her beg more?”

“No, no, please!” You nearly cried, ignoring the burn from your bonded hands and feet as you tried to get up. “I promise I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll do whatever you want just please touch me.”

You flinched when Azriel’s fingers tilted your head to look at him, his eyes drinking in your tear-stained cheeks and flushed face. He studied you for what felt like forever before bending down until his forehead was touching yours. “You’re ours now, little mouse.”

Eris’s hot, wet tongue licked up your cunt as you were staring at Azriel and it made you cry out in pleasure, taken off guard as he latched onto your clit and started sucking on it roughly.

It was too much sensation at once and with how worked up you were, you already felt yourself teetering on the edge. Azriel seemed to realize as he crawled beside you and pinned your arms to the bed, Eris’s fire disappearing instantly. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, whore. You have to be given permission.” 

“I can’t-” You choked, your hips grinding down as Eris moved down to circle the tip of his tongue over your hole. “I can’t hold it! Please!”

“I said no,” Azriel growled, fingers digging painfully into the soft skin of your arms. “Stuff her full of my cum, prince. Claim her for me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion until you watched as Eris pulled away from your sopping wet cunt, a small string of saliva following him, and spat Azriel’s cum onto your pussy. The sight of it had your toes curling as Eris gave you a devilish smile, sliding two fingers down your lips, collecting the cum, and then shoving them roughly inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” You yelped as he fucked his lover’s cum into you, his fingers curling with each thrust before he went back to licking and biting your clit. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen and you almost sobbed when Azriel pinned your hips down to keep you still.

All you could do was lay there and take it, desperately trying to fend off your orgasm as Azriel whispered in your ear, “Take it like the dirty slut you are mouse. Feel his thick fingers inside of you, fucking my cum into you.”

“She tastes so fucking, mmph-” Eris growled into your pussy, his amber eyes glowing like embers as he looked up at you. “So fucking good.”

“I bet she does, I can smell how sweet she is,” Azriel said, his fingers dancing down your body until he got to your breasts. “And look at how beautiful these are…just waiting to be marked up.”

He gave your right nipple a harsh smack at the same time Eris sucked your clit again, the pain and pleasure mixing in a toxic wave of lust. They had you seeing stars and they were just getting started. 

“Please, Azriel, Eris, please let me cum,” You begged, your bottom lip quivering as your legs shook with the effort to contain it. “I’ll be good, I’ll be a good girl.”

“You’re so cute when you beg like that, Y/N.” Azriel praised, goosebumps rising on your skin as his breath blew softly onto your neck. “So pretty, such a good whore. Do you think she should cum, Eris?”

Eris pulled back, ignoring your whimpers as he rose to his knees and pulled Azriel into a heated kiss so that he could taste your juices on his tongue. You huffed out angrily, nearly ready to stomp your feet as you felt your orgasm fade into nothing due to the lack of stimulation.

“Is my pet throwing a fit? Did you not already get enough attention?” Eris cooed, turning to watch you as Azriel kissed down his neck and palmed his cock until the High Lord was bucking into his hand. “Are you, ah, are you that needy?”

“Of course she is, look at her.” Azriel mocked, sucking a large hickey onto the column of his throat before he pushed him back roughly. Eris landed beside you, his hair splaying out beautifully as the Illyrian roughly picked you up and had you bending over the edge of the bed. “Suck his cock, mouse. Make him cry for you.”

You did not need to be told twice, your mouth hungrily kissing his inner thighs and trailing up to his dripping member. It was thick and long, the tip red and begging for you to pay it attention. He let out a small groan as you kissed and licked the head of him, swirling your tongue round and round before a sharp smack landed on your ass.

“I said to suck his cock not tease him, little whore.” Azriel ordered, letting another spank hit your clit this time which made you moan. You nodded, eyes focusing on Eris as you took him all the way to his pubic hair. It tickled your nose as you watched the redhead lurch forward, his hands immediately flying to your head to hold you still as he rutted upwards.

“Stars above, that feels amazing,” He moaned, looking over you to Azriel who was stroking himself to the sight. You began to choke and only then did he finally let you go, his thumb reaching out to wipe away the mascara that was now smeared under your eyes. “Again.”

He gave you no time to prepare as he roughly shoved himself down your throat once more, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy as you did your best to breathe through your nose. You cupped his balls in your hand, rolling them around, which only spurred Eris on further. 

“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker, Y/N?” Azriel chimed from behind you, stepping forward to rub his hard cock through your folds. Each time he bumped against your clit it made you lurch back, trying to get him to enter you. “Maybe that should be your new title, hm? Just for us.”

“Only for us.” Eris echoed. “Fuck I’m going to cum.”

“Paint her face. Mark her in your cum.” Azriel growled, savoring the way you were both lost in your own pleasure as Eris suddenly pulled out of your mouth to spurt onto your face. You closed your eyes and took it, loving the way they were being so filthy with you before you moaned when you felt Azriel enter you from behind. 

“So fucking tight,” He gritted out as he fucked you wildly like a beast taking his bitch. Your whole body was jerking forward and all you could do was look at Eris, your eyes heavy-lidded as he swiped some of his cum off your face and held it out for you to taste.

You sucked his finger in greedily, enjoying the salty taste of him as he smirked back at how corrupted you had become. However, as soon as Az hit that spot deep inside you, you let go of his digit to let out a loud, whorish groan. 

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” You cried out, looking back to watch him pound into you from behind. With every brush over that spot, you felt your orgasm building once more, your walls clenching tightly around him which made him hiss through his teeth.

“You wanna cum on his cock, pet? Do you deserve it?” Eris teased, placing two fingers under your chin to force you to look at him. “Do you think you deserve to cum on his cock?”

“Yes, mmm, I do,” You pant, moaning into his mouth when he kisses you sloppily. He tasted of warm spices and Azriel, the combination intoxicating as your tongues swirled together. It made your already wet cunt wetter. “I’ve been good.”

Azriel grabbed your hips harshly, making sure to leave bruises on them as he felt his orgasm racing up his spine. His balls started to tighten and he couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted as he spilled into you, your orgasm following swiftly behind as you came and came and came.

Your entire body shook with the force of it as you all but collapsed onto Eris’s thighs, your ass still up in the air as Azriel continued to thrust shallowly into you. He grinned as some of his cum leaked out the side of your union, watching it fall onto the bed. 

“You made such a mess, little mouse,” Azriel noted as he reluctantly pulled out, scooping his oozing cum and shoving it back inside your sensitive hole. You whined, trying to move away but Eris forced you to stay still as the Spymaster continued to toy with your sex. “And you came without permission.”

“I-what? But you-” You mumbled, lifting your head to turn and gaze at him. “Eris said…”

“I only asked the question, pet. I never permitted you.” He said sweetly, brushing the hair out of your eyes as you swallowed in fear. “You should know better.”

“It’s alright, prince.” Azriel smiled, flipping you over forcefully before appearing over you. “We have plenty of time to teach her how to behave.”

The last thing you saw was Azriel’s hazel eyes before his shadows circled your head, blinding you as Eris chuckled into the night air. You sucked in a breath when you felt those fiery bonds return once more, locking you to the bed as they both set to work on your punishment.

[rosesncarnations]

EVERYONE LOOK RIGHT NOW

Azris Week

Day 5: Slice of Life

“Eris recalls that one cool Autumn night where Azriel and him were curled up… at one of Eris’ many hideaways within his court. Neither of them were clothed, Azriel’s wings and Eris’ natural body heat providing enough warmth for them both.”

Thank you to @mossytrashcan for taking my words and transforming them into this lovely commission.

LITERALLY I sent Sage three excerpts from chapter two of Rancor and Risotto and asked for naked cuddles.

I think my exact words were something like: “is it okay if I send you sections of my fic that kinda gives the vibes I want and then you can interpret that how you see it?”

And they were like “yup that totally works for me!”

AND I Asdfghjkl the emotions y’all THE EMOTIONS

@mossytrashcan is a god, that is all.

Happy @azrisweek Everyone!

[parkerslatte]

Morning Bliss

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: allusions to sex.

Summary: Y/N and Azriel enjoy a quiet morning.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

There was a chill in the morning air as Y/N snuggled closer to Azriel, grateful for the warmth he provided. Her head rested against his chest as she lightly traced his tattoos as she tilted her head to gaze at him. In his sleep he looked peaceful and perfectly at ease. Every worry and stress pushing down on his shoulders seemed to evaporate from his body. Y/N smiled. She never imagined that she would be so lucky.

“I can feel you staring,” Azriel’s voice was deep and sleepy. His eyes were still closed though there was a smile tugging on his lips. 

“I can’t help it,” Y/N mumbled. “You are gorgeous.”

A deep chuckle rumbled through Azrie’s chest. “Look who’s talking.”

Y/N’s grin widened as she began to press soft kisses against Azriel’s chest, gradually getting higher and higher until she grazed his jaw. Azriel’s arm tightened around her as he let out a content sigh. With one swift movement, Y/N slung one of her legs over Azriel’s hips and manoeuvred herself on top of him. Y/N’s face hovered above his. 

Azriel’s eyes finally opened to meet hers. A beautiful hazel that seemed to glow in the morning light. She loved his eyes so much. 

Y/N slowly moved her hand to Azriel’s jaw and slowly traced over his features. His cheekbone, his nose, his lips and back again. From below her, Azriel watched her, nothing but love in his eyes. 

Ever since Y/N had known Azriel, she knew that she loved him. It was hard not to. The two met while Azriel was on a mission in the Day Court and the moment their eyes met, the bond snapped. Despite this, the row didn’t act right away, in fact it was months before Azriel returned to the Day Court to see Y/N and discuss what everything meant. What neither of them were expecting was the connection that they had when they were together. 

Conversation flowed easily and Azriel found himself opening up to her willingly. He found himself smiling and his heart beating faster and faster whenever her arm brushed his. Y/N, who normally preferred to listen to people and only insert herself into conversation when it felt right, couldn’t stop herself from talking and failed to notice the adoring expression on Azriel’s face. 

It was only one more month before they accepted the bond. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Azriel muttered, his hand cupping her cheek. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Y/N responded. “Because you, Azriel, are beautiful, gorgeous, kind, thoughtful, talented, sexy, amazing in bed—“

Azriel cut her off by pressing his lips against hers. The kiss was tender and thoughtful and it made Y/N’s heart soar. Kissing Azriel never got boring and he took her breath away every single time. His kisses in the morning were usually tender and full of love. It was a way to try and convince her to stay in bed all day with him. Sometimes it worked but other times she simply left him reaching out for her with an adorable pout on his face. It never failed to melt Y/N’s heart. 

“Why don’t we stay in bed all day?” Azriel suggested, his lips detaching from hers briefly. 

Y/N grinned. “As much as I would love to, we will need breakfast at some point.”

Azriel groaned. “Fine, but then we are coming right back here.”

“Deal,” Y/N said as she slid from Azriel and out into the cold morning air. 

Azriel slipped out after her hand wrapped his arms around her from behind, peppering her shoulder with gentle kisses. Y/N twisted her head to gaze into Azriel’s sleepy eyes. He was normally never one to stay in bed late in the day but the day he had met Y/N, it all changed. Now all he wanted to do was stay in bed with her. 

His hair was a mess from sleep and Y/N running her fingers through it.

“You look adorable,” Y/N muttered, pecking his lips and pulling away in time to see a faint blush rising on his cheeks. 

The arms around Y/N’s arms tightened around her as a chill swept through their bedroom. Y/N shivered, even with Azriel providing her his warmth, she was still freezing. 

“I might regret getting out of bed,” Y/N muttered against his lips. 

Azriel grinned against her lips. “Are you now?”

Y/N nodded before she squealed as Azriel moved to lift her up into his arms. She wasn’t there long however as he had already thrown her onto the bed. Y/N laughed loudly but she immediately felt warmer with the soft covers underneath her. 

Azriel crawled onto the bed, his wings dragging behind him, he wasn’t making the effort to hold them up at all. He would only ever do that if he were in Y/N’s presence and completely relaxed. As Y/N lay her head against the pillows, Azriel slotted himself between her legs before he nuzzled his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck. 

With the sheets beneath ehr and Azriel’s body on top of her, Y/N was warm and she felt as if she were wrapped in a cocoon of comfort and she never wanted to break out of it. Her fingers quickly found Azriel’s hair and began to run her fingers through his soft locks, her nails grazing his scalp. Azriel let out a content sigh. 

Azriel laced his fingers with the hand that was rested down by her side and pressed a gentle kiss against her neck. “Are you warm now?”

Y/N hummed in response and pressed a kiss to Azriel’s forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Azriel responded. 

Y/N continued brushing her fingers through Azriel’s hair as his breathing began to get heavier and heavier until he had completely fallen asleep. She glanced down at his sleeping form and smiled softly. She wasn’t sure how she got so lucky. With one final kiss to his hairline, Y/N drifted off to sleep.

[moonpatroclus]

thank you to @b-astora for creating this beautiful commission for me💗 I wish I had the words to express how in love I am with this art. I hope we all love soft sweet tender Azris as much as I do🫶🏻

@erisweek2023

Please do not repost, reblogs welcome :)