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potatoplace · 2 months ago

Text

Charades: 3 Words, 4 Syllables

C1: 3 Words, 4 Syllables | C2 | AO3 Link

Series Masterlist | ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Eventual Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find out you have cancer, and it's unlikely you'll survive. In an attempt to preserve your sister's happiness, you're keeping your diagnosis a secret until after her honeymoon. In the meantime, you'll need help from one person, to go to and from your appointments.

This is a terminal illness fic. Reader has cervical cancer, due to an HPV infection. The HPV vaccine is incredibly effective at almost completely reducing the risk for cervical cancer, as well as others. HPV is able to be transmitted through skin-to-skin contact as well as through sexual contact, and it is incredibly important to receive the vaccine.

Please don't feel the need to read this fic, it is a no happy ending one. There is no bright spot at the end, just sadness. I'm writing it because I need a good outlet right now for how I'm feeling after losing M'aiq. But feel free to skip it, it's going to be just. Heavy and sad.

Warnings: Terminal Illness, Cancer, no happy ending, angst, medical tests (pap smear, use of speculum)

Words: ~3.2k

Author's Note: like I said above, this is just an outlet for me right now. It's gonna be sad. Sad sad. Idk if it'll get updated 🤷‍♀️ who knows. It's an outlet so I'll see when I need it again. Hoping to get some of my scheduled stuff worked on tomorrow. Love you guys 🫶 -- also the title is from a Halsey song, it was a digital deluxe release for TGI during release week, chapter title is lyrics from it!

18+ only pls

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

You’d never thought your life would come to this.

Staring at white walls, avoiding looking directly at the too-bright lights on the ceiling, your feet in stirrups, a doctor checking between your legs as you shivered, utterly uncomfortable at being examined down there.

You’d never even had sex, yet here you were, spread open because your tests hadn’t come back clean. That paired with the near constant spotting you had been experiencing for the last year, and now the constant fatigue, shortness of breath…

There was no point in worrying, until you had to. That’s what you kept telling yourself at least, to keep the anxiety from creeping too deeply into your heart.

“Wow, uhm,” the doctor said, shock evident in her tone. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go grab the head doctor really quickly, so it tight, okay?”

And that was your sign to start worrying. Big time.

You nodded at her and craned your neck to watch as she left the exam room quickly, before your eyes returned to the colorless walls, the pale pink cabinets to your left. A heavy breath left you as you ran over the possible scenarios, what horrors the doctor had seen within you.

Large amounts of endometriosis? A baby, somehow?

… Cancer?

It was no secret that your healthcare had fallen to the wayside over the years, what with your mother dying shortly after your birth and your family losing their fortune less than five years later. Your father had been left to fend for himself and four girls, and it was a miracle that the four of you had made it this far, as unscathed as you were.

And now? Well, it was a miracle that you were here, in a doctor’s office at all. You couldn’t remember the last time that you’d been for anything other than the required shots for public school.

But here you were, going to the doctor on your sister’s-fiancé’s-family’s dime, in a country you had just moved to.

A knock sounded on the door to your right, an older woman following your doctor into the room before shutting the door softly behind her.

“Hello, Y/N, my name is Madja, I’m the head OB/GYN here, and Ianthe suggested I help examine you today. Is that alright?” You nodded shyly, watching as she took Ianthe’s previous spot, the other doctor hovering nervously behind her. Your eyes turned to the ceiling as she examined you, doing your best to ignore any sensations. You heard Madja ask Ianthe to grab supplies for her, only tuning back in when she spoke directly to you. “Okay, Y/N, I’m going to get a small sample, you’ll feel a brief pain and some mild cramping after.” You winced as she did so, squeezing your eyes together tightly. “Good job, you did wonderfully, and it’s all done.”

Madja removed her gloves and helped you remove your legs from the stirrups, sitting up on the exam table a moment later. “So, Y/N, we did see some abnormalities, and I’m going to order a few tests for you to find out more. Since we’re attached to the hospital, we’ll get you sent over for them in just a few minutes. Do you have any questions for me?”

“I… Do you… Do you have an idea of what it might be?” you asked her nervously, eyes flicking to Ianthe, who was fidgeting in the corner.

Madja sighed, a sad smile on her lips. “We won’t know for certain until the test results come back, but… Is there anyone we can call for you, dear?”

“No, no, I’ll…” you sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to worry anyone, yet. Not until we know what it is.”

She nodded, an understanding look in her eyes. “Very well. Ianthe will take you for your tests in a moment, and we’ll have answers soon. So don’t worry, alright, dear?”

“Okay,” you said quietly, watching as she left the room.

“Well, I’ll go grab a wheelchair, and we’ll get you down to MRI, CT, and X-Ray in a jiffy. And since you’re so important, you’ll probably get to skip to the front of each line, and you’ll be home before you know it!” Ianthe told you cheerfully, but you could see the sadness lingering in her eyes before she turned to leave.

You wondered how long she’d be able to keep it up, the fake-happy act, when something was very clearly wrong with you.

She returned a moment later, promised wheelchair parked outside of the room as she led you into it, settling your feet onto the footrests before beginning to wheel you deeper into the facility, chattering mindlessly to you about your hair.

Just recently, you’d had it bleached to a pale blonde, a look that you’d always wanted to try. But now that you were being given a weekly stipend for having had your life turned upside in a matter of months… You’d gone ahead and done it, loving the results.

“So do you use a special shampoo or anything?” Ianthe asked you as the two of you waited for the elevator to arrive at your floor.

“Hm?” You’d completely spaced out, your mind stuck on how painful those last few minutes of bleach had been. “Oh, I use one for color treated hair, but the real secret is purple shampoo. It keeps it looking bright,” you replied, running your fingers through your hair.

“That’s good to know, I’ve been thinking about going lighter with my own hair but the maintenance… It looks so amazing on you, though,” Ianthe gushed as she pulled up to a set of doors with a sign next to them reading Radiology: MRI. “Wait just a second, I’ll make sure we get in soon, love,” the bubbly blonde said with a squeeze to your shoulder before entering the room.

Only a minute later she returned. “Alright, as soon as the other patient’s done, we’re next. So, where’d you go to get it done?”

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

Three hours spent waiting for scans and getting scans done later, and you were back in the exam room you’d started in. Thankfully you’d been able to change back into your clothes, a comfortable but stylish pair of jeans and a hoodie, all courtesy of your soon-to-be-in-laws. Ianthe had gone to grab Madja a few minutes ago, but you could have sworn it was thirty minutes later when the pair finally returned, a redhead also entering the room with them.

“Alright, Y/N, we have a few things to go over,” Madja said seriously, taking a seat on a rolling stool. “During your pelvic exam, we observed what seemed to be a mass, obstructing your cervix. I took a sample, and we sent you for a round of tests for imaging, and reviewed them carefully. I’ll let Dr. Berdara take it from here.”

The redhead stepped forward, extending a hand towards you, shaking your hand gently. “My name is Gwyneth, but you can call me Gwyn,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m a gynecological oncologist, meaning that I deal with cancer of the female reproductive organs. From the tests we’ve run today, I am sorry to inform you that you have cancer. It is stage IV metastatic cervical cancer that has spread to your lungs, bones, and lymph nodes. We can discuss treatment options, but I would recommend telling your family as soon as possible.”

You nodded, but anxiety was already creeping through you, holding you hostage in one position. “I… I’m waiting, until after the honeymoon. I want them to enjoy it,” you whispered, thinking of how happy Feyre had been recently. How she was excited for this wedding, unlike her previous almost-wedding to that abusive jackass. “Could we keep whatever treatments we do secret, until then?”

And you didn’t want anything to get in the way of it.

Not even… Not even with you possibly dying.

“Of course. But you will likely need someone to take you to and from your appointments,” Gwyn pointed out with a raised brow. “And someone to be your emergency contact.”

“I’ll figure something out,” you mumbled, letting yourself take a steadying breath before asking the question you didn’t want to hear the answer to. “What are my options?”

“Well, we have a few things we can do. Surgically, we could do a radical hysterectomy, and possibly look at further surgeries to remove other masses, though I would not recommend the extra strain on your body,” Gwyn explained gently, watching as your eyes widened before filling with tears. “I recommend starting intravenous chemotherapy as soon as possible, we can make up a schedule for it before you leave today. Do you have any questions?”

“Uhm…” you sniffled. “What are… What are my chances, with all the treatments?”

Gwyn’s eyes softened as she looked at you, grasping your hand gently. “With the severity of your diagnosis… We can make you comfortable, for the next few months.”

You nodded resolutely. At just 19, you were likely going to die.

“I wish I’d been able to come in sooner,” you whispered softly, before tears finally spilled over onto your cheeks.

🤍💔🤍💔🤍

“Did you want to stop for anything before we head home, miss?” your driver, Nuala asked.

“No, thank you, Nuala. Thank you for waiting so long for me,” you said quietly, guilt building inside of you. After all, you’d been in the clinic for over four hours, and the woman had been patient enough to wait outside with no more than one text, asking her to wait until you were done.

“It’s no problem, your safety is of the utmost importance.”

Right.

That was the whole reason you had moved to Prythian, after all. A tiny coastal country on the western edge of Spain, with only one large city - Velaris, whose streets you were currently being driven through.

And home? Home was a palace, where your sister’s fiancé, Rhys, and his family ruled from.

You would have been content, living in your small town in the southern US, if not for the attempted kidnappings that had occurred a month ago, prompting you and your other two sisters’ quick relocations to Prythian in an effort to not have the three of you killed.

Apparently, ruling a country didn’t make you popular with everyone.

But you wouldn’t complain now, having the freedom to explore your passions without worrying about having a job would be nice.

Though… That might not happen, after all…

You watched the vibrant streets passed by, wanting nothing more than to curl up in your bed, ready to ignore everyone and everything in an effort to not give away your new… Condition.

Which is exactly what you did, slowly making your way from the garage to the entrance hall, then through the main hall and up the grand staircase, taking the first right before seeing your door at the end of the hall.

If you were this exhausted now… You could only imagine what hell the chemo would put you through, how you’d manage to make it all the way up here each time.

As it was, your first round of it would be given to you tomorrow and…

Shit, you needed to find someone to take you…

Collapsing onto your plush, far too large bed, you thought of your options.

You didn’t want to burden Nuala, she already had enough errands to run all the time without having to babysit you five times a week for however long it took to administer the medications.

Your sisters were out of the question, you knew that Nesta and Elain would both tell Feyre, and your hopes at letting her enjoy her wedding would be shot.

You only had a week before the wedding, and two weeks after than for her honeymoon to be over. Only three weeks that you needed to keep up this charade, that you were fine and nothing was out of the ordinary. After that, you would be able to tell your sisters, whatever… Whatever that would look like.

At some point you must have drifted off, as you were awoken by the dinging of your phone, a text from Feyre ringing out.

Dinner’s in five, don’t be late!

That was two minutes ago, meaning you only had three to drag yourself downstairs and into the dining room, or else risk scathing looks from the King.

He hated people being late.

You hurried out of your room, knowing that he’d likely be pissed no matter what, seeing as you were still clad in jeans and a hoodie, entirely too casual for a dinner in a palace.

Though you didn’t see much why it mattered, as there was no one around to take pictures of your impropriety.

It doesn’t matter, I just need to do better. I’m living here on his dime, after all, and he’s going to be paying for my treatments too… You paused when you hit the bottom of the stairs, a wave of dizziness washing over you.

A strong hand met your back, keeping you steady. “Hey, are you alright?”

You managed to look up, eyes meeting hazel before flicking away. “I’m fine, thank you. Just ran down the stairs too fast, I think,” you said, an awkward laugh leaving you before you remembered that you were going to be late. Quickly, you set off for the dining room, Azriel hot on your heels, though you knew he could pass you easily with those long legs of his, and the fact that you were moving at slower pace than usual.

The two of you entered the dining hall together, just as the clock struck six.

“Good of you to join us, Azriel, Y/N,” the King, Xander, said as the two of you took the remaining empty seats next to each other. Dinner began shortly after, waiters bringing out salads and pouring wine, to which you placed your hand over your glass, not wanting to test how alcohol works with an illness like yours.

Probably not well, if you had to guess.

You hated how long these dinners took sometimes, and right now especially. All you wanted to do was go back upstairs and sleep, maybe take a nice, hot bath for the cramping you were having.

Over an hour later, dessert was served, and you hardly touched it. It had been a chore to eat the roast meat and veggies you’d just finished, and you were certain that you would lose everything if you attempted to have more, nausea already building in your throat.

You could practically feel Azriel’s eyes burning a hole into the side of you, watching you the entire time. Even now, as you took tiny sips of tea, he was watching you.

So… Maybe you had acted strangely before coming in here, but that didn’t mean that he thought something was wrong, and he probably wasn’t even watching you. You were probably just being paranoid, now that you had something to hide.

You left the dinner just after the King and Queen did, not noticing that the same someone who followed you in had chosen to follow you out, as well.

You made your way back to the grand staircase, looking up at them with dread in your eyes. You were tired, and you were still cramping, and you were emotionally exhausted, and… And you just wanted to cry.

“Do you want help?” that deep, smooth voice asked you, and you turned your head to the right to see Azriel, standing a few paces away with his hands clasped behind his back.

“No, I’m fine, but thank you for asking, Azriel,” you replied, latching your hand to the railing as you began to ascend, the eighteen steps kicking your ass by the end of it, and you stopped, breathing deeply as you tried to slow your heartrate and clear the dizziness from your head.

“You’re not fine, Y/N,” Azriel hissed as he led you with a gentle hand on your back, getting you safely to your room. You plopped onto your bed, sighing as your lungs recovered. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve had doctor’s appointments frequently, and now you’re struggling to walk up a flight of stairs without help. You aren’t fine.”

Falling back, you let yourself stare at the ceiling as you contemplated the risks of telling him.

Feyre had told you he was good at knowing secrets about everyone, though she hadn’t mentioned his proclivity to share them with others…

Half of the truth, then.

“I’m sick, Azriel. I need to go to treatments five times a week, starting tomorrow. And I need you to not tell anyone, not until after Feyre and Rhys get back from their honeymoon,” you told him, your voice soft, resigned.

“Alright. Do you have a way to get there?”

You blinked for a moment, dumbfounded. “No, I don’t…”

“That’s solved, then, I’ll take you. What time do you need to leave tomorrow?”

You pulled yourself back into a seated position, a confused look on your face. “You’ll take me? Why?”

“Because you’re Feyre’s sister, and you deserve to have help in this, even if you refuse to tell your sisters now. Besides, I have nothing scheduled for the next three weeks, and after that, your sisters can take over. So, what time do we need to leave?”

Teeth worried your lip as you stared at him, utterly confused by his interest in helping you. You’d spoken maybe ten times in the month the two of you lived under the same roof, and it had been brief contact at that. But you supposed… Help would be nice, and he was offering…

“My appointment is at ten, and it takes about twenty minutes to get there.”

Azriel nodded, “Alright, I’ll see you at 9:30 to take you down to the garage. Have a good night, Y/N.”

He left your room soon after, leaving you laying on your bed, confused at the turn of events. From brief interactions to now offering to take you to your appointments, five days a week… It was strange, and you were also grateful.

As for the rest of your evening, while a bath sounded nice… you would much rather change into a nightgown and crawl into bed, maybe even get a whole twelve hours of sleep tonight.

So you did exactly that, shedding your jeans and hoodie, before slipping into a soft, powder blue nightgown. You set an alarm for 7:30, deeming two hours more than enough to take a bath or shower, then have a light breakfast before your treatment started.

You weren’t feeling hopeful, not really. The only thing you were letting yourself hope for was that you wouldn’t ruin Feyre’s wedding festivities. You wanted her to be happy.

That’s all you’d ever wanted, for your sisters.

That’s all you’d ever wanted for yourself.

But you were good at playing like you were fine, good at pushing through the pain. So long as you didn’t have to face a set of stairs, it seems.

You’d keep this secret, until the time was right.

🤍💙💔💙🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars @le-nottibianche

#charades #3 words 4 syllables #eventual Azriel x reader #azriel x archeron!reader #azriel x reader #archeron!reader #acotar x reader #tw terminal illness #tw cancer #angst #heavy angst #azriel #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #tato writes

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g00seg1rl · 22 days ago

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Dress Up For Me

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra | wc: 7k | ao3

Summary: Thesan and his love have graciously taken it upon themselves to host Nuan's birthday part. (Don't ask how old she is, that's rude and the author didn't decide). Eris, fashionista that he is, knows this is a perfect opportunity to show everyone up by arriving in a fabulous costume with Azriel at his side. Unfortunately for Azriel, Eris abandoned clarity out of excitement.

For Day Four, read between the lines, of @azrisweek and for my dear friend and beta @the-darkestminds 💗

All the words below the bow or over on ao3, enjoy!

“Oh- for the love of the Mother, ugh, why do his missives always land obnoxiously,” Eris exasperated as Azriel gingerly lifted the ivory card from the gravy-covered mashed potatoes.

Eris took a shallow sip of whiskey as Azriel skimmed the letter, eyebrows raising as he ran out of words.

“Hm, well you’ll forgive him for giving you a chance to play dress-up,” Az placated, a loving taunt gleaming in his eyes. He passed the note to Eris, and their knuckles purposefully brushed.

“I need no justifications to feel fabulous,” he scoffed. “And I’ll be the judge of my pardons,” Eris muttered as he set to peruse the letter.

The High Lord of Autumn and his handsome consort are cordially invited to the small gathering for Nuan’s birthday. Please arrive on time and wearing a costume.

Leather bat does not count, Azriel.

“The footnote itself is worthy of penance,” Eris conceded, his smirk growing to match his husband’s.

“Ah, yes. The renowned hatred for my Leathers.” Azriel sighed, resigned to the critique as he refused to branch out a bit wardrobe-wise.

“No one hates them, they make your ass look splendid, but no one appreciates them when you wear them to mating ceremonies and baby showers,” Eris explained as slowly as he would to teach the alphabet to Cassian.

“Okay, the showers don’t count. Night doesn’t have those and I thought we’d be rained down upon by fiery Autumn babies, I was being prepared.”

“The spy that you are, my love.”

“Hardy har, what is it that you’d like me to wear then?” Azriel rolled his eyes and postured sarcasm but there was a sincerity to his question, a sincere want to please his mate. Simp.

Eris tapped his chin thoughtfully, dinner forgotten as he tried to word just go bare respectfully. “Hmm, well your ass should still look splendid-”

“I’m offended you think it would look anything but.”

“Heh. Butt.”

“Your sophistication is centuries in the making and one behind pun and you’re chittering like a child.”

“Sophistication is overrated, let’s go naked,” Eris proposed.

“What even is the costume?” Azriel surprisingly didn’t immediately say no.

“The sexiest fae in Prythian.”

“Despite saying it so officially, I don’t think that counts, my dear.” He held Eris’s hand through the tough news.

“Oh alright, I’ll get back to you on that,” Eris assured.

With dinner cold and concluded, the couple made their way to their chambers, the ginger half of their soul pondering the skimpiest and wittiest outfit he could force Azriel out of the house in as he swayed his hips through the archway.

Eris was only half present on their hunt. Lucien (that observant twerp) had noticed and the chances of his little brother not taking the opportunity to unravel the kink in Eris’s nonchalance were none to null.

“Quieter than ever, Eris,” Fuckface Obvious noted.

“Lively conversation requires more than one functioning brain, so I’m afraid I’ll wait till we get to Elain and Azriel.” Eris sighed, pushing the mock grief of his apatheticism into the dramatic sound.

“So it’s not Azriel-related,” Lucien gathered.

Fucking Hel.

“My mate and I are indeed fine. How are you and yours?” Eris deflected responded, quickening his horse's trod.

“Oh, we’re dandy. I’ve heard no reports of any Autumnal political mishaps. Is Mother alright?”

“Oh she’s fine, truly Lucien, everything is alright. I’m just figuring out a way to outdo everyone at Nuan’s shin-dig.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage, you gaudily always do.”

“I do nothing gaudily,” Eris corrected.

“And Beron was my Father,” Lucien luciened, a term Eris coined for whenever Lucien said something only the bastard (affectionate, envious) could.

Eris snorted, thanking Praline for getting ahead of his brother and his brother’s stallion in time to avoid him seeing the devious smile forming on his face. He hated being read so easily, and Lucien dissecting his grin was the fastest way to stop it.

It was perfect, they could dress as Cauldron Made. Eris would be able to bring out his moonlight suit and mimic Nesta’s eyes and Azriel... could figure it out. The important part was that Eris had an excuse to brandish the custom tailored suit by the prior Lady of Night herself centuries ago.

Now a few feet ahead, Eris ran his thumb through the dark current on his opposite wrist, nudging the small shade into a communicative state before lifting the aforementioned wrist to his lips.

Dress as Made. Seriously, no leathers.

He lowered his hand and tightened his grip on the lead as Praline bounded through clearing after clearing, their hunt abandoned and replaced by a hoof-race as Lucien closed in behind him.

Eris grinned freely as he heard Lucien’s victorious, booming laughter as he got ahead.

“Why the fuck does he want me to dress as a maid!?” Azriel wasn’t sure who he was asking, but he was not satisfied with their lack of a response.

“What?” came Nesta’s familiar ire-molded tone.

“h’Oh shit, Nes, hey, hi, sorry, I didn’t know you were reading.”

“In my library, where you just saw me ten minutes ago.”

“I- I had forgotten.”

“Spies must be as rare as your shadows for you to be the best.”

“Hey, wow, ouch.” Azriel truly felt like Rhys as he clutched his very broken heart and fell onto the couch next to her, accidentally sitting on her blanket-clad feet and getting kicked in the thigh for it. “You know they keep me around for my looks.” Az grinned as he saw Nesta’s lips begrudgingly twitch into a smirk.

“Alright, sorry, I’ve been a tad fed up with Cass and I do not want to talk about it.”

“I mean I didn’t ask--” Az felt like being a little shit.

“Oh well if I must–” Nesta did as well, apparently.

“You do recall me having the conversation-initiating outburst, yes?”

“Oh, not everything is about you, Az, and if your mate wants you to dress like a maid then you should be busy looking for heels. Consider stilettos.”

“I don’t even know why I come to you with problems.”

“You didn't even know I was in here!”

“Okay, okay fine, what’s wrong with you and Cass?”

“Now I don't want to tell you.”

“Oh, whatever!” Az left the chuckling Nesta to go find… Where in Hel could someone buy a maid’s uniform to fit an Illyrian?

Lucien and Elain were a few jade padded steps from the arching birchwood doors they knew familiarly; they were here for dinner weekly to spend time with Nuan and engorge themselves on Dawn’s delicacies but Nuan’s estate never failed to take their collective breath away.

A beachfront manor attached to three consecutive workshops, each dedicated to different crafts and divided amongst them was the resident Fae’s attention if she’d have it her way. Lucien would always check these cabins first when attempting to locate the female who was as skittish as a mouse and constantly winnowing around. Lucien would always carry an ounce of envy around Dawn Fae and they’re infinite ability to poof and repoof.

The manor itself was a clear labor of love, each pale green pillar expertly carved spirally, vines and ivy engraved around each curving line. The same twining pattern was etched into the molding of every room, and the chambers here were countless so it truly spoke volumes about Nuan’s dedication when he learnt that she built this entire beachside on her own. And it was blatant with each copper detail to match her jewelry and every lilac hued window referenced the female’s favorite color of sunset.

As Lucien raised his fist to the bronze knocker, a sharp whistle blared from their right making Lucien regret the three… five too many glassfulls with Tamlin last night. He hoped the best for whatever prick decided a whistle was a proper greeting.

Oh, it was Eris. He no longer hoped for the prick’s best.

Elain chittered as Eris spun her into a hug, her fake butterfly wings and flowy yellow dress moving with them. Lucien’s inquiry into why the fuck whistling was necessary went ignored, as did the hand Eris extended to twirl Lucien. Maybe if he hadn’t whistled. Lucien dished out a small condolence embrace.

“Are you dressed as a disco ball?” Lucien’s perfect, beautiful and lovely mate absolutely rekt his brother.

“What? No, oh Heavens no,” Eris admonished, classic hand clutching his chest. “This,” Eris said as he did a flashy turnaround, “Is one of the only pieces Lady Selena ever exported to another court. The only other is a coat I plan on one day obtaining from Kallias.”

The iconicity of the previous Lady of Night’s creations was Prythian–if not world–wide. The telltale use of midnight dyed silk and Illyrian steel detailing were her own signature. A slimming silver brocade corset underneath a silky, depthless navy overcoat; the trousers were borne of the same glinting fabric as the corset and the deep blue loafers matched his jacket.

“It’s a lovely suit, what size-?”

“Don’t even think it.”

“Alright, alright, we can revisit that another time-”

“No we cannot,” Eris assured. “And yes, the whistling was very necessary, you are half naked and share some of my genetics, did you expect not to be catcalled?” Eris asked. His brow arched and his smile whittled into a smirk before he tsked, “You’re typically far more competent, everything alright?”

“Your harassment and concern flatters me- Oh. Oh wow.”

Azriel walked into view behind Eris, arriving separately for a reason Lucien could only assume was figuring out how to get into such a skimpy outfit, and that was coming from someone wearing a ridonkulously miniature toga because Elain dubbed his costume of the night ‘her arm candy.’

No. Azriel was wearing a maid’s uniform– a small white apron cinching his waist and covering part of the little black dress that barely reached the middle of his muscled thighs; lace garters snugged only a few inches below the ruffled edges of his skirts, holding sheer stockings just above his knees. Lucien’s eyes trailed down to the… Cauldron... six inch red high heels and he commended Azriel’s ankles for not having broken yet.

As far as his mate? Oh, Eris’s jaw was as slack as his arms by his sides, somehow drool hadn’t spilled yet considering the legendary level of ogling and eye-fucknig Eris was achieving. Azriel, once facing Eris, somehow outdid him. His shadows swathed energetically, bobbing around Azriel’s shoulders and twining around his biceps as Az strode towards Eris, a wide grin amidst the pinkness of his face.

“You look incredible,” Azriel gruffed, hands coming to settle around Eris’s cinched waist.

“And youuu,” Eris poked a finger at Az’s chest, “look like a maid?”

“And you look incredible,” Azriel repeated hypnotically and Eris came as close as he’d ever to giggling Lucien had ever heard.

“You said that already, my Star,” Eris pointed out, dimples caving to their deepest and smile beaming its brightest; it’d been decades, but seeing his brother this happy healed parts within himself that always felt slightly guilty for leaving.

“I just… fuck.” Azriel’s words appeared to fail him.

“Why thank you,” Eris did that giggle thing again, pleasing and perplexing Lucien’s ears. “You look rather ’fuck’ yourself, assuming that means fuckable.”

He looked to the bright pink Elain, and Lucien cleared his throat and a small fraction of the sexual tension that was rapidly heading towards the fourth time he would have to watch these two boink.

“Ah, well, I’m sorry about your demotion, Azriel,” Lucien consoled as he clasped the lace-gloved hand Az held out in greeting.

The Shadowsinger, sassy as ever, tore his hand from Lucien’s so very sincere comforting hold and sputtered, “I am very much still Spymaster of Autumn and consort to its High Lord.”

“Yes you are, baby,” Eris patronized lovingly.

Azriel turned to his partner, “And you,” he tapped Eris’s nose, “are a pretentious prick.”

Oh, what the fuck.

Eris scoffed, “Is this a revelation for you?”

“Far from, but who up the Cauldron’s backend dresses as something ‘Made’ to a costume party? Or am I off and this is you cosplaying cutlery?”

“No, you had it right, and if you understand enough to crack jokes, what’s the excuse for this fortunate blunder?”

“Oh whatever blunder do you mean? Maids are made, are they not? Do they appear at whim?”

“And I’m pretentious?”

“You’re both pretentious,” Elain cut in brazenly, cheeks still pinkened, “and I fear that fact requires some moscato,” she deemed and tugged Lucien along as she banged the knocker rapidly until a very amused peregrine they knew to be Nuan’s cousin opened the door.

“Oh, oh apologies dearest, could you get that?”

Azriel was going to strangle him, he was sure of it as he bent over for what had to be the fiftieth time that night so far, to pick up a chip that had just happened to nosedive, along with the Shadowsinger’s patience, off the ledge of the poker table.

The blood rushed quickly to his head as he sat back up to set the small disc back atop Eris’s tall stack. Dawn’s wine always seemed to make Azriel’s head swim along with movements. As he walked it felt like the room was warbling, each step an accomplishment and after the fifth glass he was thrilled he didn’t flop on his face every time he lowered it.

He glowered at the large bank Eris had accrued, knowing any of those little fucks could be the reason he risked his life next.

“Don’t worry, Az, I’ll share.”

He turned his glower to his mate, the vitriol petering instantly as he saw the glee on his husband’s face.

Lack of vitriol didn’t equate to lack of ire, he clarified as he set his hand thumpily on Eris’s silky leg, fingers pincering at the inside of his thigh, the small jolt satisfied the urge to get back, slightly.

He moved his hand up the crease of Eris’s lap to tickle lazily at the exposed skin on his side, raking one nail to steal a gasp and a blush. Eris took a deep sip to blot the moment. Az wouldn’t give him a break, not after all the you missed a spots and outright spanks. Thankfully, his family weren’t here– Cass would never let him live it down and he thought he would’ve strangled Nesta for not saving him this trouble. She might’ve known.

They had probably entered after-party territory at this point. Only Nuan and a pair or High Lords with their winged loves were left still chatting and chuckling at things they wouldn’t have found so funny a glass ago.

Lucien and Elain winnowed away drunkenly to the dismay of Azriel and Eris, who both knew intimately how dangerous it could be to appear somewhere randomly. Unfortunately, upon warning, the couple seemed thrilled by the possibilities.

Hopefully they wouldn’t end up in the Middle, that wasn’t fun, Azriel thought bitterly as he looked over at Eris, who was typically the one to winnow them intoxicated. Likewise, the shadows were terrible at navigation when tipsy. The swarm was warbling out giggles and snickers at everything Eris was saying— which was a lot. His mate never seemed to be quiet.

Azriel didn’t always need quiet, he’d found recently.

He snaked his arm around Eris’s waist and leaned in to kiss the pointed tip of his ear, but unfortunately he miscalculated and bonked his forehead into Eris’s temple.

“H-ah fuck, sorry,” Azriel mumbled, his world tilting as he sat back abruptly.

“Well that’s alright, pretty thing, can’t ask for more when you look like that,” Eris purred, ”not even a brain cell.” He reached a hand to stroke Azriel’s cheekbone but Az rescinded his arm and swatted away Eris’s coddling hand.

Thesan chuckled from the crook of his mate’s neck. Said mate was smirking into his goblet. Nuan was the one to josh along aloud, “Oh come now, Eris,” she tsked, “leave the staff alone.”

“The staff adores my attention.” Eris was so sure of himself as he negated.

“The staff— I,” Az caught himself, cheeks staining wine-red as the table roared with laughter.

He sent a jagged wave of discomfort down the bond. He felt fucking stupid, he’d felt stupid all night but this was pushing it.

“I’m never wearing anything but my leathers ever again,” he swore, then nodded gratefully at Nuan’s sympathetic look.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry dear, no more jokes.” Eris sincerely looked sorry, and Az accepted the consoling kiss on his cheek and couldn’t help but grin at Thesan’s awww.

“Them displaying affection so frankly means we’ve made it past sane hours, all of you get out,” Nuan decreed to all of their dismay and amused grumbles.

“Okay fine, but only because that way Eris doesn't officially win,” Thesan conceded.

“Oh, wait–”

“Oh you’ve been a schmuck to your mate all night, you can do without the win,” Sahar grinned as he karmically snatched Eris’s victory. Az would be lying if he didn’t feel slightly vindicated.

“Okay fine, but only because I am far from done being a pain in his ass,” Eris quipped as they all rose.

“Splendid,” Az gruffed and embraced Nuan in one of those hugs that waddled back and forth until one of them got dizzy. He was surprised he didn’t fall asleep as he stepped back and shook Sahar’s hand.

Once all goodbyes were served, the High couples of Autumn and Dawn went their separate ways. Az tangled his lace-gloved fingers through Eris’s and tugged him down the hall opposite to the exit where the other couple was sauntering.

“Az you drank too much, we were meant to go that way, c’mon,” Eris whined and pulled their joined hands back.

Azriel channeled all his experience playing tug-o-war with Cass and yanked Eris to him, toppling the lithe ginger into his arms.

“I know what I’m doing,” he lied whitely and walked backwards with a shocking amount of grace.

He ran his hands down to the snug cloud-soft trousers separating him from his mate’s lower half and brought their junk together by pushing Eris into him as he ground forward, their blood began racing down to their dicks.

Shadows garbled directions to a near linen closet, step back— no not that back, Singer— oh wait yes, keep going— okay, to your right— oh, no it’s to the left.

He nearly moaned when his clamoring hand finally came in contact with the door knob, forcefully twisting it to the side and pushing as he twisted their bodies and slammed Eris into the shelves of sheets and tablecloths.

“Az, what’s gotten into you!?” Eris gasped against Azriel’s mouth. The only reply received was the Illyrian’s tongue overtaking his mouth.

After a solid amount of snogging and fondling, Az elaborated, “Been a prick all night, can’t believe how much alcohol you spilled to see me bend over,” he chagrined on Eris’s behalf.

He reclaimed Eris’s mouth before giving him a chance to retort. He’d been using that thing too much tonight. If he wasn’t so eager to get inside his ass he would fuck Eris’s mouth until he felt the need to pull out and make him sign a consent form to get his tonsils removed.

He skimmed his hands down the intricate layers of Eris’s corset, deciding that’d be an endeavor to get off and that there’d be Hel to pay later if he tore it. So he left it and moved to take down those soft slacks that Az wanted to nuzzle his face against but would settle for removing.

Eris’s hands grabbed for Az’s shoulders, clinging to the frilly straps as Az and shadows moved together to undo the clasp and slip the pants off respectively, not respectfully.

As soon as the booty was bare, Azriel splayed his fingers, dug in and spread Eris’s cheeks until taut. Then, he stretched out a finger until the lace of his gloves brushed tauntingly against Eris’s rim. Az smirked as Eris groaned and shifted forward, running away as if he didn’t know it was futile.

“Where you goin’, pretty thing?” Az slurred into Eris’s parted, pouting lips.

“Fuck, fuck Az-”

“I’m gettin’ there, be patient for me,” Azriel told him as he loosened one hand’s grip and summoned a vial of oil. He popped open the lid and poured it straight (homosexually) above the cleft of milky skin before tossing it onto a shelf and spreading the oil down and around Eris’s hole.

“Oh, yesss, Az, more, faster,” Eris started asking for more as soon as the tip of Az’s index finger breached his clenched entrance. He quickly pushed in till his first knuckle, then second, then curl, then third, then another finger, he lost himself in bobbing fingers in and out of Eris and the heady feeling of Eris clinging and quivering against him with each inch moved any way.

The seconds stretched thin by wine, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d spent prying Eris open for him. By the time his aching cock reminded him that he had a mission to see through, his fingers were slickly slamming in and out, three fully engulfed in Eris’s fleshy heat.

Perhaps he would consider a more expansive wardrobe, Azriel thought as he easily accessed his cock from beneath his skirts. He shuddered as his slit brushed against Eris’s hip.

“Oh fuck, yes, finally,” Eris moaned as Az withdrew his fingers.

“Yes, yes, I’ve got you.”

“Mm, good, have me,” Eris breathed, hiking a leg up.

Azriel pulled Eris’s ankle to his ear, giving him some space to finagle his cock in between Eris’s thighs. Eris’s flexibility had to be a customization gifted by the Mother herself, and some small sensitive part of him deemed it a fitting reparation after those eleven years Azriel could barely move. He wasn’t a believer in much but Azriel has accepted Eris was the absolution he’d always needed, the being who made all the suffering in his life feel balanced.

“Hhnmmnhng,” Az moaned as he shoved easily past Eris’s rim, hammering up without pausing to let Eris adjust. He set a pace that competed with waves slapping against rocks during high tide, just crash after crash after crash, every meeting of their hips natural and wild.

“Ahhh!” Eris cried. His channel tried clamping down on Az’s dick, but there was no stopping (unless Eris safeworded, of course) his momentum, and the thwap of his balls against the other his’ balls was evidentiary to his vigor and need.

“Oh, oh fuck Eris, feel so good, so hot,” Azriel groaned, leaving out how he felt like his cock was about to turn to ash from the sweltering heat or a diamond from the vice grip surrounding his dick with pressure.

“Ahhhhh!” Eris wailed within the erected sound barriers the author forgot to mention existed earlier and arched his back, bracing for the next stroke.

Az withdrew his hips, and the wet slide sounded so loud, Eris’s moan couldn’t even drown out the sloppy noises as Azriel snapped back in. (Az was concerned for the sound barrier at this point.)

“Oh fuck, baby, so damn tight,” Azriel praised gutterally, the keening moan Eris replied with felt like a stroke on his balls.

“Holy fuckingfuck Az, hngood, s’good,” Eris mewled, his toes curling in Azriel’s periphery.

Pacing was nearly impossible, each stroke was more deliria-inducing than the last, and a rabidity built with his thrusts, aiming to feel more and more of Eris every time, every new inch felt like falling deeper into serenity.

Maybe three minutes in and Azriel already felt like bursting. The working friction was sparking every nerve; every sensation felt magnified and there was no way he was lasting, but on the off chance he’d remember any of this tomorrow, he had to last just a little longer, just had to make Eris come first.

“F-fuckin’ Hel.”

He didn’t even get a chance. Az tried to be mad as Eris’s calf brushed against his wing on its way up to his shoulder and made his whole body freeze and shudder through an explosive orgasm, but he found any real emotions or thoughts to be so difficult to conjure.

He was about to rescind and finish Eris off on his fingers to the best of his abilities but shadows, like an insistent belt, wrapped around his waist and pulled him back inside Eris. He was rapidly softening but Eris didn’t need much, a few aided thrusts and Eris’s back bowed off the shelf.

“AZZRRIEELL!” Eris screamed, threatening the composure of the sound barrier once again.

Eris’s legs shook against him as the corset he was wearing was desecrated by jizz; An acquired fashion taste, sure, but Az couldn’t see it as anything but an improvement.

A shadow who’d been spending too much time with Eris curled around his ear to call him a simp. The prickish noise waterboarded him with the awareness of how creative a vengeful Nuan could be and how close they were coming to being subjected to her malintent.

Azriel pulled out, now allowed by his shadows (when did that table turn?), and slowly lowered Eris’s quivering legs to the ground. He squatted to pick up Eris’s pants and held them spread for Eris to slip into before asking him to shatter the magical barricade around the closet. He slowly clicked the knob open and winced at the influx of bright light. He had barely noticed the lack of light in the small room, eyes full of Eris and darkness inconsequential to Fae of his sort.

They didn’t run per se, they more hastily jogged, quieted by shadows, out of Nuan’s home. The sand kicked up onto his shins by Eris’s sprinting feet felt like victorious, grainy pelts.

“Just like old times,” Az sighed, recalling all the quick rushes of shame out of predicaments their ferality for one another coaxed them into, their combined impulses sing like sexually frustrated sirens.

“We last fucked in a closet only three years ago,” Eris reminded him.

“Oh. That we did,” Az recollected, his post-coital grin refreshing as he reminisced.

“Should I be concerned for my memorability?”

“No, no, I simply forgot that wardrobes weren’t grand enough to be considered rooms themselves, I can remember you behind me in Amren’s like it was my first time.” Azriel smirked.

Eris’s eyebrows shot up. “Was it not your first time being bent over in the little eldritch’s dresser?”

“Oh, you know I meant like virginity, wise-ass.”

“Oh I didn’t think you’d even remember what it felt like to have that feeling in perview.” Eris’s smirk broadened at the mock-outrage on Azriel’s face.

“Woooooow, slut-shamed by my own mate.”

“Have you been paying attention at all tonight?”

“You’re right—”

“Oooo I love the ring of that,” Eris interrupted smugly, “just rolled off the tongue, I’m sure.”

“—I have been paying attention and I definitely let you off easy, you got satisfied like a sitting duck in Nuan’s closet whereas I was publicly teased all night.”

“More vengeance in store? Oh, you spoil me.”

Azriel drew to a sudden stop, spine stiff. A frown played on his full lips, and his brows were pinched unhappily. “Seriously, Eris.”

Eris paused with him. The smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression. “I’m sorry if I went too far with the teasing, baby, this is just incredible.” Eris, even hours after the first impression, still sounded starstruck as he smoothed his hand over Az’s cotton-clad bum.

“I probably would’ve done the same,” Az admitted, a shrug playing on his shoulder.

“Less fabulously,” Eris needlessly pointed out.

He just grunted, fighting a smile, and took Eris’s hand into his as they approached an actual member of staff to winnow them home.

“Oh you know… what if we do it my way?” Eris stopped him and looked up at him with those beseeching, dilated amber eyes. Thankfully, the wine dulled the puppy eye’s efficacy.

“Maybe next time, but I’d really just like to fuck you in our bed.”

The meep from the Dawn attendant reminded them they were not yet in said bed.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, to the Forest House please,” Eris requested the petite male whose hands were now outstretched and taken.

Without word, the slim Fae transported them to the outskirts of the Forest House gardens and vanished before they could extend gratitude. Probably for the best– they both reeked of sex and ‘slur’ is a generous way to describe how he’d get out a thank you for tolerating our degeneracy, please pardon the come on my husband’s corset.

“Quiet fellow,” Eris shrugged and tugged on Azriel’s arm, abrupt and forceful enough that Azriel nearly did a twirl and ate dirt.

“Oh Cauldron’s mangled cunt,” Az bit out as he righted his feet and slowed them to a walking pace down the long lushly lined lane.

“Watch that mouth, Mister, I’ll grab a bar of... no, soap tasted so nasty,” Eris hummed, “I’ll shove my dick down that… no, that doesn’t sound like a reprimand.” Eris went quiet in serious thought. Azriel did his best not to shatter the silence with a chuckle but Eris always looked so adorable deep in thought, even more so when it was over something so nonsensical.

“Do I get a say?”

“In your punishment? Of course not,” Eris scoffed, looking sideways.

“Oh calm down, Pastor, the Cauldron doesn’t even have a cunt,” Azriel pointed out needlessly, taking a page from Eris’s book.

The both of them broke into fits of amusement, Azriel buried a snort into his palm and Eris clutched onto Az’s bicep as he nearly toppled over amidst his cackles—Az wasn’t entirely sure what they were laughing at minutes later but it left a lovely ache in his cheeks as they finally reached the entrance to their manor. The door caved in as soon as they neared.

They leaned onto one another as they traversed the mountainous stairs. These were always very winnowable, but sometimes the dependency was comforting, and so they hobbled as one up the flight of stairs and down the long hallway to their bedroom.

Azriel groaned as he bent over to grab onto the molding of the wall as they entered their chambers, his left hamstring burned as lifted his right foot to slip off the torture devices Azriel admired the maker of.

Eris clucked his tongue, a sharp admonishing sound that froze his Illyrian muscles.

“Keep those on.”

Azriel hung his head, a coy grin hidden from Eris as he parted his lips to return a fraction of the teasing Eris doled out this evening, “Oh? Why’s that?”

Az lowered his calf, Eris’s breath hitched as his heel clicked against the walnut floors, the sounds like an aphrodisiac found in a Spring Forest by to Fae who’d end up fucking for centuries.

(Seriously do not go wandering around that wild without a tour guide, Az knew from intimate experience how superfluously a saunter could turn to a public fuck-fest because of some damn pollen.)

As he turned to face Eris, Azriel kept his lashes low and hip cocked. His coyness sharpened to something more… stabbable as he took in Eris’s heavy breathing and wanderous fingers.

Eris’s nimble fingers trickled down to feel at his stomach, almost as if he was overly-conscious of something menial, his nails slowing to run along beadwork.

“Eris?”

“I don’t want to make you feel further objectified, but it really would be a shame if you took everything off before I got to fuck you in that, especially if you’re officially becoming a leather-never-nude.”

“I welcome your objectification in private, just come quick, I might fall asleep.”

Offended scoff, “My dick could never bore you to sleep, I’m near erectile dysfunction at the suggestion.”

“Well you better stop that self-fulfilling prophetic bullshit because now I’m hard again.”

“Oh the maid is a bit bossy.” Eris’s tone was revelatory and teasing, but tellingly strained.

“Oh whatever will you do, sir?”

Eris let out a thick breath, and the heat of it warmed the room. His amber eyes darkened and dilated as they turned more almond when he smirked sinfully, the only way he ever acted frankly.

Azriel’s skirts somehow felt snug. He brushed his fingers against the trim as he watched Eris contemplate, the High Lord was nibbling on his lower lip, his tongue dashing out after the small hurt as he struck his hand out to his left, a riding crop appearing in clutch.

Az huffed and spoke hushed, “ts’a bit dramatic but I’m here for it.”

“You weren’t going anywhere.” Eris didn’t let up on the heady melodrama, good.

“Oh yeah?” Azriel wanted to bet.

As if pausing a stage, Eris raised his hand, “If you’re goin’ to run and the heels are aching, I suggest crawling, my darling,” he directed.

Azriel snickered but whispered back, “Good call,” as he sunk into all fours, fanning his wings performatively, bearing his weight mostly on his right knee, springing his left hip low.

“Have I told you I loved you today?”

“Yes, you have. Now get back in character, simp.”

“Right, right,” Eris murmured, then cleared his voice to no avail, his tone just as desire-lumped as before, “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Az tamed his smile and untamed his docility, releasing a low growl and pouncing off into a dashing sprawl, nearly leaping with each connection of his knees to the flooring that would be ruthlessly hard lest his shadows not be the slutty aids they invariably were.

He quickly lost equilibrium, the rushing scene blurred before his eyes. Eris’s pronounced, chasing footsteps cascaded behind him, each sounded more hungry than the last.

“You look so cute, darling, not sure where you think you’re going though,” Eris taunted as Azriel reached the considered dead-end that was the closed-off entrance to their bathroom.

He huffed belligerently but made a sharp left towards Eris’s nightside table at the bereftful sigh of his mate, completely at odds with the thrill coursing through their bond.

The ruffles rustled against his thighs, his cock was leaking against the lacy trim, the thrill rushing down his spine, and he knew Eris was close but the lack of knowing when exactly had his entire body coated in goosiebumps.

Only a few feet from Eris’s bedside stand, he wasn’t sure where to go from there but from the nearing thwacks of Eris’s dressy loafers against polished wood comforted him. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to think that far out.

With an audacious amount of force, Eris straddled low on his hips, the jarring jump nearly pancaked Az between his mate and the cool floor.

“Ha, gotcha baby,” Eris purred, his hand casually sleeking back Az’s talon as he traced down the cleft of his ass with the seamed leather edge of the handy dandy crop, “Now where was all that big talk, hm?”

Az pushed a bracing breath through pursed lips before arching his back, toppling Eris forward, collaterally damaging his faulty decorum as the male pressed down on his wings, worth it from the telling dig into the small of his back.

“Wild thing aren’t you, although it's entertaining, I need you now— I need you to behave now.” Eris ordered, sitting himself back up.

“So make me, sir,” Azriel wasn’t done, the dichotomy of being taunted in private versus that party felt so refreshing.

A sharp thwack swatted his ass, the jarring sting jolted his body.

”Ahh!” Azriel yelped as the small paddle marked his other cheek, rapidly followed by a hit on his left upper inner thigh.

“Settle, dear, three more,” Eris warned.

“Yes, my Lord,” Azriel breathed, relaxing his spine and imbuing his marrow with a bracing peace.

Eris husked, “Fuck, g’na give you a raise.”

“HA— AAOOHFUCK!” Az cried out, his body bucking and swaying Eris after the menace placed a swat directly on his hole.

“Woaah, easy there,” Eris steadied.

“If you wanna fuck me you’re gonna have to hurry, this is sapping lots of energy and that damm wine-”

Two precise stings, one on each of the fattest parts of either cheek, cut off his complaint. The brat within wanted to complain about being cut-off, but he couldn’t put two words together as Eris slid off, landing with an oomph behind him. Hungry hands spread his doubtlessly bright red ass.

A delving, sopping tongue breached his hole; it was so hot. Not just his husband feasting on him from behind but the literal temperature of his tongue was sweltering, Az could swear it was heating further but speaking seemed so difficult.

“Mmnolmmn?”

“Hah!?” Az asked back, just as eloquently of course.

“Mmn,” Eris withdrew his wicked tongue, “The oil.”

“Ah, shit yeah,” Az ughed, shifting his heft to his left elbow as he reached up with his right to open and sift through Eris’s bedside drawer. The cool glass of the vial found his fingers quickly.

He passed it back to Eris who hummed gratefully and set to pry him open, hopefully quickly.

“You look so pretty.”

“Are you talking to my asshole?”

“No, I was talking to you, your ass doesn’t have ears, silly bat,” Eris finished with a snort.

“Oh yea— AHng!” Azriel bit out gruffly as Eris inserted a slick finger in one fell swoop.

Eris snickered and curled his knuckle where it sat. Azriel arched his back, sending his hips and taking more.

“Greedy,” Eris clucked, painting his face cheeks as scarlet as his bum.

“Need you, need you, Eris.” Az pleaded.

“Cauldron, baby,” Eris sounded ruined, ”Say please for me, have some manners.”

“Now, please, please, Autumn, need you inside me,” Az wasted no time on shame, not when ordered by Eris, not when he could be getting railed.

They both groaned as Eris pumped his finger and added another, curving them towards that little button within that drove Azriel bestial.

“Yes- yes, more please, s’good,” he goaded, it was good but he knew intimately how much better Eris’s cock felt stroking in and out of him. He needed that.

“Shit,” Eris swore.

A defined hardness poked at thigh, oh what he would do to witness the great High Lord of Autumn grinding against the back of his leg like a bitch in heat. Azriel was used to feeling attractive, but Eris made him feel like he was the only being worth fucking in the entire world. Eris always fucked him like it would be the last time he’d get to and damn if that didn’t make his ego come along with him.

“Fuuuck, that’s it, please, moreeee,” Azriel begged. Eris had upped it to three but it was so far from enough.

“Here, baby, here, take me, fuck,” Eris warbled as he dragged his fingers out slowly, his hands moving to hold his waist as he got to his knees; shadows reported how gorgeous they looked, goddamn Azriel’s sense of self was getting grandiose.

“Ahhhh Eris!” Azriel gasped, the blunt head of his husband’s cock carving its way deep inside him. Azriel clamped down, aiming to feel every vein.

“Holy fuck, Azriel, you’re perfect,” Eris praised and as his hips snapped against him.

Azriel felt his heart tossed up, rocking forward along with his body, he felt it crawl up his throat and escape with his moan.

“Move, move, move move,” Az needed.

“I should be giving the orders.”

“No, you should be fucking me.”

“When you’re right you’re right,” Eris conceded, setting a slamming pace, each thrust burying so goddamn deep Azriel was scared he’d be shoved against the wooden drawer-front in front of him.

Azriel grinned dumbly, followed momentarily by a disgruntled grunt as his arms gave out.

“Aww baby,” Eris cooed, voice at odds with the lust-wrecked tone of it.

He looked over his shoulder at that. He loved how Eris looked when he fucked and even more so when purring like that, the thin sheen of sweat brushed his chin as he took in the wildly smirking Eris; hair mussed and flying every each way, the Mother’s most meticulously sculpted chest heaving prettily. Azriel sent a wisp to brush against his rosy, hardened nipples in place of his scarred thumb and forefingers.

Eris moved one hand from his hip and wrapped it tightly around Azriel‘s throat and with the aid of voyeuristic shadows, with his cock still balls deep inside of him, lifted Az’s weight to his knees, pulling his back to his chest, trapping his wings between them.

“So pretty, sound so pretty, love when you’re so wrecked, so perfect for me, my love,” Eris whispered against his ear.

Fuck. His voice. That’s what sent Az over the edge, Eris’s nerve-accosting, silken voice that never failed to deliver chills.

Azriel’s hips jerked as much as they could with Eris still keeping him close as he came, milky lines decorating the shellacked floor and Eris’s name loudly escaping his lips; his head lolled back, throat at the opportunistic angle for Eris to suck a harsh hickey as he ground his hips up and hotly filled him like a thoroughly desecrated pastry.

Eris lazily helpfully relocated their clothes, constraining stocking and slightly itchy seams of the sleeves thankfully included, and cleaned them up, not before kissing over the doubtlessly purpling mark now on his neck and complimenting how sexy Azriel looked so thoroughly claimed by him.

Az groaned, only barely dramatized, as he lifted his head. “Think you can winnow us to bed?” Az challenged.

“I think I’m lazy enough to try.” Close enough.

Successfully, with chittering cheers from the swarm that moved along with them, Eris poofed them onto the cloud-like mattress.

He hiked a leg over Eris’s waist, nuzzled near his neck and carefully lifted Azriel’s right wing to rest it over them.

Eris breathed deeply, diaphragm gently raising and lowering them. Azriel sighed contentedly, head still swimming and silent from the wine and sex; it might be Nuan’s birthday but Azriel felt very celebrated.

So many thank yous, the biggest to @the-darkestminds for prompting this, for helping every step of the way during this fic and every single one of my others, I love you my precious 😘 Thank you x gazillionzzz @mudandmire @mistandmemories and @jules-writes-stories for being my cheerleading squad and.. omega reading? Idk, thank you and love u all 💗 Thank you again Jules for writing THEESAHAR and letting me borrow his name, and thank you @iftheshoef1tz for calling Az a leather never nude lol and the dividers by @cursed-carmine 😘😘😘

My Azris crewwww, lmk if you’d wanna be added (NONE OF U ARE ALLOWED TO LEAVE //j) @astro-h0e-4azris @nus4y @fourteentrout @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @buffy-vanserra @pippsmcgee @palomita-de-la-sangre @nightsandflamess @shadowsandlint @wrraccountant @thesourcabbage @ysmtttty @neciebee @talibunny30 @makinglongwordsslutty @3xolara @icey--stars @skies-for-eyes-trees-for-knees @molcat07 @olenvasynyt @sunstar-drabbles @bloodyplunder @eatsbooks @wovendreamscapes @aleksandra25cracow @irithiadourden @ejkreader, if I forgot to tag you I’m so so sorry, I fear my brain is just goo atm 😫

#azris #azriel #eris vanserra #azrisweek2025 #azrisweek2025 day 4 #smut #fluff #humor #did I mention smut #lots of that #elucien is here too a lil #as is Thesan and his lover #thesan x peregryn #elucien #azris fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfiction

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