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moviesismylife · 9 months ago

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BAT BOYS react to the ✨pheromone✨ perfume

Note:

I don’t know if y’all have seen the viral pheromone perfume on TikTok, but apparently it’s supposed to make men go craaazzzyy, so I thought I’d make a little post on how I think our favorite bat boys would react to you wearing it✨

Enjoy x

Rhysand

I open the door to my mate’s office, and spot him hunched over some paperwork at his desk. As soon as I enter, his head snaps up to me.

“My love, thank the cauldron you’re here.” He says relived, as he looks me over.

I smile at him. “You needed my help?”

He nods, motioning for me to come over. I swiftly pad over to him, standing next to his chair, where he’s seated. Placing a hand on my hip, he drags me closer.

“Could you help me file all these? Seems there were a lot more than I expected.” He looks at the large pile of papers placed in front of him on the desk.

“Of course.” I say with a little smile.

“Perfect.” He grins back, and pulls me down onto his lap.

I yelp a little at the quick motion, but settle myself comfortably, my back facing his chest. He nuzzles his head in my neck, as he always does, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Flipping my hair to one side, I lean forward to grab a small pile of papers to read over. As Rhys’s nose brushes over my exposed neck, he stills. I hear him sniff. A short pause, then another sniff. And another.

“My love…is this a new perfume?” He asks casually, as he continues to brush his nose over my bare neck.

“Mhm.” Is the only response I give him, as I start to read over the file in my hand.

He sniffs again and again, nuzzling his head further into my neck. Then he uses one hand to angle my head to the side, to give him more access to my pulse point.

“Where did you get this…it smells…” he trails off, continuing to nuzzle my neck.

I smirk a little, knowing the perfume is working.

“Fuck…I don’t know if I’ll be able to do the paperwork.” He runs his nose repeatedly over my neck and collarbone.

I tilt my head to the side to look at him. “Rhys.”

He doesn’t move his head from my neck, letting his hand hold it in place on the other side, so he can have free reign. His other hand moves down and under my dress, trailing up my thigh.

“Rhys…” I say again.

“Hm?” He murmurs into my skin.

“We’re supposed to work.” I say.

“I think we can afford a break.”

“No you can’t-“

In one swift move, he’s moved me from his lap, and shoved me onto the desk, papers flying everywhere, and my legs spread wide.

“Rhys!” I swat his chest, but he only buries his head in my neck again, and moves both hands under my dress.

Giving up, I move my own hand to his hair, grinning a little at my accomplishment. Seems the perfume works.

Cassian

My sword clangs with Cassian’s, as I try to swing at him again. But he recognizes my maneuver, and knocks the sword out of my hand, turning me swiftly, pressing his own blade to my throat. His other hand splays at my front, and he leans down to my ear, whispering. “Nice try princess.”

I roll my eyes, and try to get out of his grip, but his strong arms keep me caged. I’m about to speak, when I hear him sniff my neck. I feel his head nuzzling deeper, and then another sniff, as his nose brushes my skin.

His sword drops to the ground, but he keeps me caged in his arms. The hand that was gripping the sword, now coming to hold the back of my neck.

“Fuck what is that.” He curses as he inhales the scent of my neck again.

“A new perfume I got from Mor. You like it?” I ask, grinning knowingly.

“Sweetheart I love it.” He sniffs my neck again.

I let out a little laugh. “It’s supposed to make males go crazy.”

He groans in response, his hand on my front, moving to grip my hip harshly. The hand on my neck stays firmly planted, keeping my head at an angle for him.

He runs his nose over my neck, sniffing repeatedly. “Fuck is it supposed to make us hard too? Because that’s what it’s resulted in.” He curses, pushing me flush against him, and I feel the bulge of his pants brushing against my clothed backside.

“I don’t know. The effects were not written on the package.” I say casually, but angle my head more for him.

He groans, and presses into me, making me let out a little moan. “Training’s over.”

Azriel

Standing in the kitchen, I stir through the pancake batter, when I hear Azriel trudging down the stairs.

“Leaving me in bed love? That’s new.” He says, as he comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle, and nuzzling his head in my neck.

“I wanted to make pancakes.” I say, simply continuing to stir the batter.

Suddenly I hear him sniff my neck, and run his nose over the exposed skin. He repeats the action a couple of times, tightening his grip on my waist.

“New perfume?”

I smile a little, knowingly, as I answer him. “Mhm. You like it?”

His grip tightens as he draws in a deep breath. He mumbles into my skin, “I love it.”

He continues to run his nose over my skin repeatedly, as if he can’t get enough of the smell.

I chuckle as he does this. “You really like it.” I say, as I push my behind back into his front, leaning back towards him. “Would you like to know what it is?”

“Very much so.” He mumbles, and his grip shifts to rest low on my hips, his hands pressing against the curve of my bottom.

“It’s called pheromone perfume. Supposed to make males go feral.” I smirk to myself knowingly.

His breath becomes heavy, and his grip tightens further. “Clearly it’s working then.” He says, burying his head into my exposed neck again.

“Mhm. Except you’re distracting me right now. I’m trying to make pancakes.”

“I’m not allowed to flirt with my mate?” He says, before nuzzling his nose into the skin just above the nape of my neck, then placing an open mouthed kiss to the spot. His hands are still tight on my hips.

I let out a laugh at that. “Yes you are. But don’t you want pancakes?” I tilt my head a little to the side to give him more access to my neck.

“Pancakes can wait.” He says, one hand leaving my hip to move up to my neck and gently lift my head back, exposing more of my throat. “You can’t though.”

I laugh even more at that, stopping my stirring, and turning around in his grip. “Alright then. If you insist.”

“Oh, I do insist.” He says, moving his hand from the back of my neck, to gently tug my head towards him, as he closes in the distance between us, and kisses me deeply.

#acotar #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #bat boys x reader #bat boys react #headcanons

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soulofapatrick · 11 days ago

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Fighting for Control - Rhysand x female reader

Summary: Rhys finds you training and you challenge his insufferable ass

Words: 3.9K

Notes: I am alive, sorry for being MIA for so long - I've been down with the flu for a week or so 😭

Y/N's POV

The late afternoon sun bathes the training arena in a golden glow, the heat sinking into my skin and mixing with the satisfying burn of exertion. Each punch I throw lands with a solid thud against the padded dummy, and I imagine it’s an Illyrian male with one too many smug comments. The mental image fuels my strikes, sharper, harder, faster—until I finally step back, breathing heavily, and shake out my arms.

I shift my weight, readying myself for another go, when the faintest prickling sensation tickles the back of my neck. Someone’s watching me.

I turn, slowly, scanning the empty terraces above the arena. Empty—except for the male leaning lazily against a stone pillar, silhouetted in the sunlight like some arrogant statue come to life.

Rhysand.

His midnight hair stirs in the soft breeze, and even from here, I can see the smirk tugging at his mouth. He looks unfairly perfect, his tailored shirt rolled up to the elbows, exposing forearms I stubbornly refuse to admire. His violet eyes lock on mine, and there’s a distinct, infuriating glimmer of amusement in them.

“Enjoying the view, High Lord?” I call, resting my hands on my hips.

“Immensely,” he replies, his voice carrying effortlessly over the distance—low, smooth, and laced with wicked humor. He pushes off the pillar, sauntering toward me with all the grace of a panther on the hunt. “Though I’ll admit, it’s much more entertaining when you’re scowling. You have this adorable little furrow in your brow when you’re frustrated.”

My scowl deepens on cue, and his laugh rings out, warm and rich and utterly maddening. “See? There it is.”

“I could arrange for you to see it up close, Rhys,” I say sweetly, though my tone drips with challenge. “Say, by smashing your face into the dirt.”

“Such violence.” He presses a hand to his chest as if I’ve wounded him, but that grin of his only widens. He’s close now, close enough that I can see the faint stubble on his jaw, the mischief practically oozing from every pore. “But if you wanted my attention, darling, all you had to do was ask.”

I snort, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair out of my face. “Please. You couldn’t keep up with me if you tried.”

“Bold words for someone who just spent five minutes attacking a dummy,” he counters, his voice teasing, though there’s something sharper lurking beneath it.

That spark of competitive fire ignites in my chest. “And here I thought the great Rhysand didn’t need to inflate his ego any further. Tell me, High Lord, do you actually have the skill to back it up? Or do you just rely on your magic to make up for the lack?”

His grin sharpens, wolfish. “Are you challenging me, sweetheart?”

“Depends.” I step closer, tilting my head as I eye him. “Are you scared?”

“Scared?” He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head like he’s indulging a reckless child. But there’s a gleam in his eyes now—bright, electric, and entirely too dangerous. “You’re either incredibly brave or terribly foolish.”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” I shrug, deliberately casual, though my heart is already pounding. “No magic. No wings. Just you, me, and good old-fashioned hand-to-hand.”

Rhys takes another step, and suddenly he’s looming over me, all dark power and infuriating smugness. His voice drops, low and velvety. “You really think you can take me on?”

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down even as his scent—night-chilled air and cedar—threatens to fog my mind. “I think you’ll find I’m full of surprises.”

He studies me for a moment, the corners of his mouth curling into a slow, wicked smile. Then, with a lazy flick of his wrist, he shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto the stone floor. “Alright, darling. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

I don’t give Rhys time to settle. The moment he’s rolled up his sleeves, I’m already moving, throwing a sharp jab aimed directly at his perfect, insufferable face. He sidesteps with a grace that borders on casual, like he’s stepping out of the way of a falling leaf rather than dodging a strike meant to wipe the smirk off his face.

“That’s cute,” he drawls, his voice rich with amusement.

I grit my teeth and pivot sharply, aiming a kick toward his ribs, but his hand shoots out faster than I can track. His fingers curl around my ankle with maddening ease, holding me in place like I’m a kitten trying to swipe at a lion.

“Careful, darling,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly, as if to study my form. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself. I’m rather fond of your legs, you know.”

Heat rises in my cheeks, though whether it’s from anger or the way his thumb brushes lightly against my ankle, I can’t say. I twist my leg free with a growl, spinning back to put distance between us.

“You’re insufferable,” I snap, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension coiling there.

His grin widens, the sunlight catching on his teeth. “And you’re predictable. Shall we try again?”

I don’t answer. I lunge forward again, trying to be faster, sharper, unpredictable. I throw a series of punches, each one aimed to force him back, to make him work for his victories. For a moment, it seems like I have him; his weight shifts, his footing adjusts—but then his hand snakes out, seizing my wrist mid-swing.

“Not bad,” he murmurs, pulling me off balance. Before I can recover, he’s behind me, twisting my arm gently but firmly behind my back. His chest presses against my shoulders, solid and unyielding, and his breath ghosts against my ear.

“But not good enough.”

The low rasp of his voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I don’t even bother to suppress the snarl that escapes me. I stomp down hard on his foot, grinning in satisfaction when he hisses through his teeth. His grip slackens just enough for me to wrench free, spinning to face him once more.

“That’s more like it,” he says, shaking out his foot with an exaggerated wince. His eyes sparkle with mischief, a flicker of heat simmering just beneath the surface.

He’s toying with me. I know it, and he knows it. But I can’t help myself; the challenge in his gaze stirs something reckless in me, something that refuses to let him win.

We fall into a rhythm then, strikes and blocks, feints and counters, the sounds of our movements filling the space around us. His laughter rings out every time he dodges or counters me, a low, infuriating melody that fans the flames of my frustration.

“You’re quick,” he says, effortlessly deflecting a punch. “But you telegraph your moves. Like that little shift in your shoulder just now.” He ducks beneath my next strike, adding with a wink, “You’re giving me too much time to admire the view.”

My cheeks burn, my temper flaring hotter. I push harder, striking with all the strength and precision I can muster. But no matter how fast or clever I think I’m being, he’s always a step ahead, always one movement away from sweeping my legs out from under me.

And sweep them he does. Again.

I land flat on my back with a grunt, dirt clinging to my skin and hair. Before I can move, his boot hovers just above my chest—not pressing, not pinning, just a reminder that he’s still in control.

“Need a break, darling?” he asks, his voice laced with mock concern. “Or shall we keep going? I’m happy to wait if you need a moment to—”

I slap his boot away and scramble to my feet, my breathing ragged, my pride thoroughly bruised. “I’m going to wipe that smirk off your face, Rhysand.”

His grin deepens, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that sends my pulse skittering. “I’d like to see you try.”

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. This time, I focus, letting my frustration fuel me without clouding my mind. I circle him slowly, watching every subtle shift in his stance, every twitch of his muscles. When I strike, it’s deliberate—a feint to the left, a sharp kick to the right, a series of rapid punches meant to disorient him.

And for a moment, it works.

He moves to grab my wrist, but I twist out of his grip, using his momentum against him. My hands find his shoulders, and with a surge of strength I didn’t know I had, I shove him backward. He stumbles, his balance faltering just enough for me to tackle him.

The world tilts, and the next thing I know, we’re both on the ground. Dust rises around us, the faint scent of earth and sweat filling my senses. My thighs bracket his hips, my hands pinning his wrists to the dirt above his head.

For a moment, everything goes still.

His chest rises and falls beneath me, his dark hair spilling messily across the ground. Those violet eyes, usually so full of amusement, are wide with something else now—something sharper, hotter.

“Well,” he says after a beat, his voice rougher than before, “this is new.”

I lean down, close enough that my hair brushes against his cheek. “What’s the matter, High Lord?” I murmur, my breath ghosting over his lips. “Not so smug now, are we?”

His gaze flickers to my mouth, his eyes darkening with a heat that makes my stomach tighten. His wrists shift beneath my hands, testing my grip, but I press down harder, refusing to let him regain the upper hand.

His lips curve into a slow, wicked smile. “Careful, darling,” he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. “You might start something you can’t finish.”

The tension between us crackles like lightning, the air thick with the heat of the fight and something far more dangerous.

And gods help me, I don’t think I want to stop.

I stay there for a beat longer than I need to, straddling his waist, my hands firm on his wrists, holding him down. His chest rises and falls, brushing against mine with every labored breath. The moment hangs heavy between us, the fight draining away and leaving something far more dangerous in its wake.

I lean closer, so close that our noses nearly brush. His eyes are dark now, the violet swallowed by endless, stormy depths. His lips part slightly, as though he’s already anticipating what I’ll do next.

I let my gaze drop to his mouth, deliberately slow, watching as his tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. My own lips curve into a wicked smile as I lean even closer, until our breaths mingle, the heat of him sinking into my skin.

“You’re all talk, Rhysand,” I whisper, my voice low and taunting. My lips ghost against his, so faintly it could be an accident—or a promise. “For all your big words, I don’t think you can handle me.”

His breath catches, the smallest sound slipping from him—a soft, needy noise that makes satisfaction curl deep in my belly.

His hands tense beneath mine, his body taut like a bowstring, and for a moment, I think I’ve won. He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world, his focus razor-sharp, his chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back.

But then I pull back, dragging my lips away before they can touch his.

I start to shift, moving to stand, intending to let him stew in his frustration. “Better luck next time, High Lord,” I toss over my shoulder, my voice dripping with mockery.

But I’ve barely lifted myself off him when everything shifts.

A startled gasp escapes me as his hands break free from my hold, his movements faster than I can react to. The world tilts, and suddenly, it’s my back hitting the ground, the air knocked from my lungs.

And now it’s him above me.

He looms over me, his body pressing me into the earth, his weight deliciously warm and solid. His hands pin mine on either side of my head, his fingers wrapping around my wrists with a firmness that sends a shiver racing down my spine.

“Was that supposed to rile me up?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a raw edge to it, a crack in the smooth facade that tells me exactly how much I’ve gotten under his skin.

His nose brushes against mine as he leans closer, so close that his hair falls around us like a curtain, shutting out the rest of the world. His scent surrounds me—crisp night air, cedar, and something uniquely him, intoxicating and overwhelming.

“You think you can tease me, taunt me, and just walk away?” His lips hover just above mine, so close I can feel the warmth of his breath. “Not a chance, darling.”

I swallow hard, my chest rising and falling against his, every inch of me hyper-aware of the way his body fits against mine, the heat rolling off him in waves. His eyes are locked on mine, dark and intense, like he’s daring me to look away.

But I don’t.

Instead, I smirk up at him, letting the smallest hint of challenge curl my lips. “What’s the matter, Rhysand? Losing your composure?”

A low, guttural sound rumbles in his chest, his grip on my wrists tightening just enough to send a thrill racing through me. “You’re playing with fire,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet threat, his lips grazing my ear as he speaks.

“Maybe I like the heat,” I shoot back, my voice breathless but steady, even as my pulse races like a wild thing beneath his touch.

His head dips lower, his mouth brushing the corner of my lips in a touch so fleeting it makes me ache. “Careful,” he murmurs again, his tone dark and laced with promise. “You might just get burned.”

The tension between us is electric, a live wire that hums and sparks, pulling us closer and closer until it feels like I might shatter beneath the weight of it.

I could stop this. I could break the spell, laugh it off, pretend this is still just a game.

The charged silence between us cracks like a dam breaking. I’m not sure who moves first—whether it’s his lips crashing against mine, or mine claiming his—but suddenly we’re kissing, and it’s anything but gentle.

It’s fierce, raw, and hungry. The kind of kiss that steals the air from your lungs and sets fire to every nerve in your body. His mouth moves against mine with an urgency that borders on desperation, like he’s been starving for this—starving for me—and finally has permission to feast.

I arch into him, my body instinctively responding to the weight of his pressing me into the dirt. His hands still pin my wrists above my head, but I’m not about to make this easy for him. I tilt my head, deepening the kiss, and then bite lightly at his bottom lip, earning a low, guttural growl that vibrates through his chest.

And just like that, the balance shifts.

I buck my hips up, trying to twist out of his grip. He’s strong—unbelievably so—but I’m nothing if not determined. I manage to wrench one hand free, my fingers tangling in his dark hair as I yank him closer, kissing him deeper. My nails graze his scalp, and he groans into my mouth, his control faltering for just a fraction of a second.

I take my chance, twisting us sideways. The momentum carries us over, and suddenly I’m the one on top, straddling him once more. His dark eyes flash with something between frustration and amusement as I grin down at him, my breath coming in short, uneven bursts.

“Not so easy now, is it, High Lord?” I tease, my voice breathless yet triumphant.

His answer is a feral smile, and before I can fully savor my victory, he surges upward. His hands find my waist, and with a smooth, almost predatory movement, he flips us again.

The ground is rough beneath my back, but I barely notice. All I can focus on is him—his weight pressing into me, his hands sliding down to grip my hips as his lips claim mine once more. This time, the kiss is slower, deeper, but no less consuming.

I refuse to surrender.

My hands roam over his back, my nails dragging lightly against the taut muscles beneath his shirt. He shudders above me, and I take that as my opening, wrapping one leg around his waist and using the leverage to push him off balance.

We roll again, the world spinning around us as we grapple for control. Dirt and grass cling to our skin, and the cool evening air brushes against the heat of our flushed faces. I end up on top once more, my knees pinning his hips, my hands braced against his chest.

“Yield,” I demand, my voice rough with exertion, though my lips twitch into a smirk.

His gaze locks onto mine, dark and blazing. “Never,” he growls, and then his hands are on me again, one gripping the back of my neck, the other sliding down to press against the small of my back. He pulls me down, and our mouths collide once more.

This kiss is different. It’s not just hunger or passion—it’s a battle. A clash of wills as much as it is a meeting of lips. He kisses me like he’s trying to conquer me, and I kiss him back like I’m determined to prove I can’t be tamed.

Our breaths come hard and fast, mingling in the space between kisses. His hand slides up to cradle my jaw, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a touch that’s almost tender—almost, but not quite, because his lips are relentless, drawing me deeper and deeper into him.

I break away first, gasping for air, but before I can say anything—before I can even catch my breath—he flips us one last time.

Now it’s me beneath him, pinned and breathless, my wrists captured once more in his iron grip. His face hovers inches from mine, his lips curved into a smug, infuriatingly gorgeous smile.

“Do you yield now?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, his thumb brushing against the inside of my wrist in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.

I meet his gaze, defiance burning in my chest even as my heart races wildly. “Not a chance,” I whisper, my lips brushing his as I speak.

His answering laugh is dark and full of promise, and as he leans down to kiss me again, I know this battle is far from over.

Rhys’ mouth descends on mine again, stealing what little breath I have left. His lips are softer this time, his movements slower, more deliberate. He’s not trying to conquer me now—he’s savoring me. His tongue brushes against mine, coaxing a sigh from my throat, and his grip on my wrists tightens just enough to remind me who has the upper hand.

But I’m not about to admit defeat, not even with the ground cool beneath my back and his weight pressing me into the dirt. My leg hooks around his, trying to gain some kind of leverage, but all it does is bring him closer—too close. His chest is flush against mine now, his body an unyielding wall of heat and strength.

I bite his bottom lip lightly, pulling back just enough to catch my breath. “You’re insufferable,” I manage to whisper, my voice shaky but laced with playful defiance.

“And you’re irresistible,” Rhys counters smoothly, his eyes dark and glittering as his lips trail from my mouth to my jawline. He takes his time, teasing a path down the column of my throat. My skin burns under his touch, every nerve alight, and I let out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

I arch against him, and he groans, the sound low and rough like it’s been dragged from the very depths of him. His lips hover just above my collarbone, his breath warm and tantalizing, when a familiar voice slices through the air.

“Training fields,” Azriel says dryly, his tone flat and unimpressed, “are for training. Not… whatever this is.”

My entire body stiffens, and I freeze beneath Rhys, mortified. I manage to tilt my head just enough to catch a glimpse of Azriel standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and his face impassive—though I swear there’s the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.

Rhys doesn’t move immediately. Of course, he doesn’t. If anything, he looks even more infuriatingly relaxed, propping himself up on his elbows as he turns to glance over his shoulder.

“Whatever this is?” Rhys repeats with a smirk, his voice utterly unbothered. “I think it’s quite obvious, Az. Would you like a demonstration?”

I groan, my cheeks burning so hot I’m certain I could melt the dirt beneath me. Without thinking, I grab the front of Rhys’ shirt and tug him down, burying my face in the fabric to shield myself from Azriel’s gaze.

“Don’t you dare,” I hiss into Rhys’ chest, though it comes out muffled.

Rhys chuckles, the sound rich and deep and maddeningly pleased. “What?” he says innocently, though his hand slides to my back, holding me securely against him as though he has no intention of letting me hide anywhere else. “Azriel clearly interrupted something very important. He should be properly educated on the consequences of such rudeness.”

“You’re impossible,” I grumble, my voice still muffled.

“And yet, you can’t seem to resist me.” His voice dips lower, teasing, and I know without looking that he’s grinning like the cocky bastard he is.

“Rhys,” Azriel says again, this time with a sharper edge to his voice, being the only one who can talk to him like this. “Get up. Now.”

“Fine, fine,” Rhys sighs, finally releasing my wrists and sitting back on his heels. He doesn’t move away, though—no, of course not. Instead, he leans down, brushing a kiss against my temple before murmuring, “We’ll finish this later, darling.”

I swat at his chest, still too embarrassed to meet Azriel’s gaze, but the traitorous part of me—the one still reeling from the heat of Rhys’ kiss—wonders if he means it.

Rhys stands, offering me a hand, and though I’m tempted to refuse, I know there’s no escaping this without his help. As he pulls me to my feet, I finally dare a glance at Azriel. His face is a mask of calm indifference, but the faint quirk of his lips betrays his amusement.

“If you’re done rolling around in the dirt,” Azriel says, his wings flaring slightly as he turns away, “some of us actually came here to train.”

I groan again, burying my face in my hands. Rhys’ laughter follows me as I stalk toward the nearest bench, determined to regain some semblance of dignity—even if my heart is still racing and my lips are still tingling from his kiss.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

TAGS:

@lilah-asteria @maleficmuse @fanficscuziranout @angelbunny222 @illyriassweetheart @rainswriting-blog

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illyrian-dreamer · 1 year ago

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Bat boys drabble!

How each of the bat boys would react to being called ‘bro’ 🦇

Did I not promise to write a least a little something while I’m travelling?? 🥰 Thank you @aroseinvelaris for letting me use your super fun prompt! ❤️

18+ smut under the cut. It’s brat taming time 😏 💥

Rhysand

Wouldn’t like it one bit

You have heaps of loving pet names for one another (darling of course, princess, tiny, kitten and mischievous one for you) (handsome, lover boy, baby and mosthandsomeandcunninghighlord for Rhys). Bro is certainly not on the list.

He blinks those dark lashes once, the most surprise he’d ever show

A sinister grin grows on his face

“A beg your pardon, darling?”

He stalks closer, placing his hands on either side of the wall of whatever surface you’re near, trapping you between him, his purple eyes sparkling, almost daring you

“What was that you called me? Bro?” You can hear the distaste in his voice

His scent evenlopes your senses, and you swallow thickly

Tracing the bob in your throat, Rhys quirks a brow at you, faking an expected answer for a victory he already knows is his

He tuts before leaning in that much closer, his lips against your throat. Seconds later, canines gently graze your soft flesh

“I dare you to call me that again,” he murmurs into your neck

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t find your voice as Rhys licks where his teeth were resting, your core now throbbing

He’d probably sink his teeth in just a little before taking you against the wall

Cassian

Laughs at first, you were on the same team at games night and he chuckled, returning your high-five when you won

But as the night went on, you used the nickname a few more times, and it begin to eat away at him

Which you noticed in your partner, his laugh turning to a smirk, then a frown, and finally an outright scowl

Still, you delighted in irking him

Cassian was unusually quiet on your way home. As soon as you got through the door, he grabbed your wrist

“What was that all about?”

“What?” You answered innocently

Cassian levelled a look at you. “Why did you keep calling me bro? I’m your mate.”

You heart could have broken at those puppy dog eyes. You should have realised that kind of teasing would have hurt him, Cassian being the big softie he is

“Oh, I’m sorry Cas. It was- I was just irking you.”

Cassian raises his brows. “Oh! Oh.”

A wolffish grin spread across his face, before you were flipped over his shoulder as he stalked towards your bedroom

Throwing you on the bed (and not gently either), Cassian had your wrists pinned and body pressed against you in seconds

“So my mate likes to tease me, huh?”

You giggled as he nipped your neck, giving a very weak attempt to throw him off you

“I am your mate, sweetheart. And only your mate can make you feel like this.”

Cassian thrusts his groin into yours and holds it there, your laughter immediately halting as pleasure shoots up through your core

Cassian delights at the shock on your face, before moving against you a few more times, slowly rutting, fully clothed

“You’ve gone all quiet, sweetheart, and gone all pink,” he teases. “What’s wrong, got nothing else to say?”

You can barely speak beyond moaning his name as Cassian flips and fucks you, the whole damn bed on its final hinges

Azriel

Does nothing in the moment, beyond quirking a brow at you

Bahaha boy oh boy will you be paying for it later though

It’s like he has a clicker in his mind, and each time you use that word, he tallys the amount of spanks you’ll be receiving that night

Azriel sees the word bro as a challenge – it’s mocking, questions his dominance, and is a weak attempt to toy with him

That’s why later that night, you’re bent over his lap, panties pulled to the side as he soothes your red cheeks after a fifth spank, Azriel cooing softly

“Who am I?” His voice is deep, commanding

Your face is as red as your ass. “Daddy.”

“That’s right. And what am I not?”

You gulp, willing yourself not to snort as you say it

Azriel pinches your ass – you’re taking too long

You yelp before manage to get it out. “My bro.”

“Good girl.” Azriel continues to rub a soothing palm over your stinging cheeks before squeezing at the flesh.

He fucks you sensually, only because you took your punishment like a good girl

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cardinalcheerio · 1 year ago

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Fans: Hey Jay, whats your favorite thing to do?

Jason: Well. I really like to-

Dc: SUFFER

Fan: I didn't ask you-

Dc: HE LIKES TO SUFFER

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ominisgoldie · 11 months ago

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Loving them is like...

Loving Cass is fun. Loving Cass is two am runs for fast food. Loving Cass is jumping into a lake. Loving Cass is wrestling with a friend. Loving Cass is kisses sticky with sugar. Loving Cass is summer. Loving Cass is blood dripping down your sink. Loving Cass is holding him back from fights. Loving Cass is coming second to the training ring. Loving Cass is lukewarm water

Loving Az is cold. Loving az is snowball fights. Loving az is motorcycle rides at night. Loving az is blue light through your curtains in the middle of the Night. Loving az is sex without morals. Loving az is bloody knuckles with hidden secrets. Loving az is the blood on his blade. Loving az is a glass of whiskey on a tired night.

Loving Rhys is exhilarating. Loving Rhys is twists and turns. Loving Rhys is a bouquet of roses. Loving Rhys is finding the darkness blinking back. Loving Rhys is hating yourself, just a little. Loving Rhys is obsidian in your palm, beautiful but sharp enough to cut to the bone. Loving Rhys is the snow under your heels in the city. Loving Rhys is crying, the moon your only witness.

Loving Mor is beautiful. Loving mor is secrets whispered under summer stars. Loving mor is red lipstick on your collar. Loving Mor is the sound of moans mixed with soft music. Loving Mor is finding out that twisted words are not lies. Loving mor is crying in the bathroom, clutching the last bottle of perfume. Loving mor is the first kiss in a romance novel.

Loving Amren is grey. Loving Amren is stormclouds on the horizon. So beautiful, but so ominous. Loving Amren is careful smiles over red wine. Loving Amren is kisses coated in blood. Loving Amren is pearls against a pale throat. Loving Amren is the thrill after a gun goes off. Loving Amren is never quite enough.

Loving Feyre is relaxing. Loving Feyre is not wanting to get out of Bed on a Sunday morning. Loving Feyre is painting together on your porch. Loving Feyre is never having control. Loving Feyre is holding hands with a cloud.

Loving Nesta is intense. Loving Nesta is Sharp black. Loving Nesta is the feeling of riding in a car going so fast you aren't sure it's moving. Loving Nesta is long hair and sharp tongues. Loving Nesta is reaching for something that will self destruct again and again and again. Loving Nesta is crisp nights on the cusp of Autumn and Winter.

Loving Elain is spiraling. Loving Elain is looking over a cliff and falling into the river. Loving Elain is flower gardens that turn out to be Graves. Loving Elain is Burgundy. Loving Elain is calling to the forest, hearing a disembodied voice respond. Loving Elain is knowing you only have a few years to love. Loving Elain is like reaching into wool to find wolf teeth.

Loving Lucien is adventure. Loving Lucien is world maps and suitcases. Loving Lucien is knowing multiple languages. Loving Lucien is warm summer afternoons. Loving Lucien is lovemaking in a field. Loving Lucien is loud laughs over whiskey. Loving Lucien is watching from afar. Loving Lucien is basking in the sun's light, dreading when it shifts.

Loving Tarquin is gentle. Loving Tarquin is the gentle waves lapping on your ankles. Loving Tarquin is watching a bird fly away. Loving Tarquin is kisses under boardwalks. Loving Tarquin is loving the gentle sea, refusing to think of its violent nature. Loving Tarquin is not realizing you are drowning until your lungs begin to hurt

Loving Eris is rough. Loving Eris is getting too close to the fire, but relishing in your burn. Loving Eris is gold on red. Loving Eris is wicked smiles and dry mouths. Loving Eris is fucking in an old Cathedral. Loving Eris is bloodred lipstick smeared over collars. Loving Eris is never going home. Loving Eris is a hard wall to fall back on. Loving Eris is power being hand fed to you.

Loving Jurian is impulsive. Loving Jurian is jumping over walls and climbing trees. Loving Jurian is blades pressed against throats, laughter nicking the skin. Loving Jurian is armor so heavy you almost can't feel eyes burning into you. Loving Jurian is being so good at acting, because neither of you can tell when the other is genuine. Loving Jurian is something you tell yourself is a dream.

#acotar #unedited #headcanons #acotar headcanons #acotar x reader #cassian acotar #nesta archeron #eris vanserra #tarquin acotar #Azriel cotar #rhys acotar #acotar bat boys #acotar mor #feyre archeron #elain archeron

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 9 months ago

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Being Kidnapped HC (ft. poly!Mates Bat Boys)

Warnings: I’m on a bat boys kick 🙃 has nothing to do with the fact that i'm missing my ex and now just want a strong male (or three) to take care of me lol, blood mentioned, violence, protective boys, polyamorous, drugged reader (faebane)

Summary: Bat Boys rescue their mate

It’s bound to happen

No matter your own power, there will always be others in Prythian who think kidnapping you will give them some sort of leverage over your winged mates

Others kidnap you to experiment on you. Why is it that the Cauldron gifted you three mates? Many wanted to know what made you different than the other fae who only have one mate

Whatever reason they had, it kept you constantly on your toes when you didn’t have one of the boys by your side.

Even in Velaris you were always on guard. You could never be too careful

Many were close calls where you were able to escape

The worse cases were when the boys had to intervene

One of Az’s shadows always accompanied you everywhere you went. Finding you was never a problem for them. There was nowhere in the world they wouldn’t be able to find you

That always set whatever worry you may have at ease

What you never looked forward to was the bloodshed that would follow

“Just take me back. Take me back and I’m sure you’ll be forgiven.” You’d try to talk your captor out of whatever plan they had in store for you. Give them a chance to change their minds.

Usually that earned you a slap across your face and vile words thrown your way

You’d have no choice but to sit back and attempt once more to pull at your restraints. Faebane still flowed in your system. There was no way you could use your magic, let alone your strength.

No way to telepathically contact your mates because of the Faebane

But you can feel the comforting coiling of Az’s shadow around your wrist

And slowly, the shadowsinger appears in the room you are kept captive

The guards assigned to watch you are easily killed by Azriel who doesn’t bother looking at them. Concerned eyes concentrated on you. “Are you alright, sweetling?” He frees you from your shackles and cups your cheeks in his scarred hands. Something dark flickers in his eyes when he spots the red mark on your face from where one of your captors had slapped you.

You could hear the sound of battle going on the other side of the. Well, mainly screams as your fae captors were torn limb from limb by Rhys and Cassian.

The splattering of blood against stone walls hits your ears. You can only imagine the carnage

They tried to shield you from most of the violence but you knew that this offense would not be taken lightly from your mates. Only seeing red and hungry for the flesh of whoever dared to lay an aggressive hand on you.

When quiet finally reined, the door opens to reveal Cassian. Wordlessly, Azriel hands you over to Cassian's strong arms. You don't care that he's covered in blood and gore. He's smiling widely at you.

"Sorry we took so long." Cassian would apologize and hold you closely to his barrel chest. He cocks his head over to the doorway. "Rhys has the boss. I'm sure he'd appreciate your help with him."

Azriel, like always, leaves you with a kiss to the cheek before he leaves.

"Shit, they really banged you around. . ." You catch Cassian curse under his breath.

"Nothing I can't handle." It wasn't the worse abuse you'd been dealt with. "Their punches were as light as a feather."

Snorting, Cassian places his lips against your brow. "You wanna go watch the interrogation?"

"Fuck yeah I do."

Just because you were accustomed to it, didn't mean you wouldn't be petty as fuck

later when they got you home, Rhysand refused to let you out of his arms. You were cleaned up on his lap. Rhysand had a few specks of blood on his face that he didn't bother to wipe away. When you take it upon yourself to reach up and clean it, he turns his face into your palm and kisses your fingers.

Safe and sound, surrounded by your bat boys.

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redbleedingrose · 2 years ago

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A popular winter trope that I always see (or would it be considered more of a concept?) is person A sticking their hands up person B’s shirt to warm their hands on person AB’s stomach. How do you think each of the bat boys + favorite Vanserra bros would react to that? (Especially considering the headcanon that fae males give off a lot of body heat)

Hi love <333

Amazing question, sorry for the late response!!! I literally am in love with this trope!

Rhysand

This male would not even flinch. I think he would be the kinda male to pull you by the hips into an embrace if you did that or pull you into his lap so that his heat radiates even more. He would probably go about doing whatever needs to be done, and he would do so silently holding you against him.

He would let out his wings so that they could wrap around you as he continues working and moving around.

He would absolutely press an occasional kiss to your nose or lips or forehead and just continue on with his work.

Busy high lord.

But whenever he is done, he would lift you up into his arms and settle into the couch in his office in front of the hearth and would spend the rest of the evening murmuring softly into your hair, using his warm hands to stroke your back.

Cassian

LMAO Cassian would absolutely let out a yelp. I think you like to do this playfully, just to get a reaction out of him or tease him. Sometimes you stuff your cold hands up his shirt to rest on his sensitive nipples chest and sometimes you stuff this up the back of his shirt to rest in the space between his wings.

He would immediately clock in that you are a little cold, even though you were doing it to mess with him, and would throw you over his shoulder and carry you to bed for some snuggles.

He would absolutely insist on doing these snuggles naked because "direct body heat sweetheart, can't let anything get in the way"

Anyway.

This may or may not devolve into him warming you up in some not so safe for work ways...

Azriel

Poor male is so worried about you constantly. He always wants you comfortable and happy around him and is going out of his way to make sure that you are doing okay.

If you even give him the slightest hint of discomfort, he will do everything in his power to help you. So if you shoved your freezing cold hands into his shirt, he would immediately be taking off his cloak and wrapping it around you in an almost hasty manner, muttering at you while rubbing your arms up and down, "And this is why I told you to wear a cloak, come here, let me warm you."

His cloak has some residual warmth that bleeds into you and is clearly oversized because it is slipping off your body at every movement. One of Az's wings will wrap around you as he shoves you into his side so you absorb some of his heat. His shadows, that usually leave a cold whisper on your skin, are caccooning you and Az into a warm space.

Eris

"Oh my beloved, are you cold?"

He wouldn't even wait for your reply, he would already be sliding your hands out of his shirt so gentle, so soft and would slide his fingers through yours, bringing them up to his lips and pressing in warm kisses at each finger pad. And then he would cup your hands together and breath a puff of fire right at your palms that doesn't touch you, but instantly provides heat.

And then he would press warm kisses all over your cheeks and forehead and nose and lips and neck, and pull you into a warm embrace that allows for him to sway in a little dance, letting his body heat permeate around you.

A ring of fire that is maybe an inch tall would surround you as he sways you back and forth, leaving kisses on your temple.

Sometimes he will just carry you to bed and lay on top of you to warm you up with his face buried into your neck, laying kisses at the junction between your neck and shoulder.

Lucien

tehehe

I think Lucien would look down at you with a smirk on his face and wiggle his eyebrows, "looking f'me to warm you up sweets?"

He would let you keep your hands up his shirt as they move around and find warmth against the smooth skin of his chest.

His hands would come up and smoosh your cheeks together so he can pepper kisses onto your lips as he moves you backwards into the wall so you can lean up against it as he makes you weak in the knees

I think he would proceed to messily make out with you for a good few minutes, running his hands all over your body, squeezing at your soft skin

Eventually one of his hands would settle at your lower back as his warm tongue plays with yours. He would press you fully against him, letting his body heat soak into you. His other hand would be stroking your cheek or running through your hair as he nips at your lips.

Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you enjoyed the stuff I came up with for it <3333

I miss you all so much and I miss writing. I wish I could put out more, but life has gotten very busy. Thank you all for the continued patience.

masterlist

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danikamariewrites · 10 months ago

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First off, I always love reading your work. Makes me smile when I’m going through it 🫶🏻

Could you do rhys x reader or maybe a batboys head canon for how they’d take care of you while life seems to be out to get you? Like every time you think your problems are solved, something blows up in your face? Maybe like something breaks in your flat, and then something crazy happens at work, and then like you get sick or something and reader is just super down and rhys/batboys are trying to bring her back up? Taking care of her and stuff?

Sorry if this is too confusing or similar to anything you’ve had before, my brain is a little short-circuited tonight lol and I’ve been kinda going through it so I can’t think straight

Dry Your Tears

Bat boys x reader

A/n: I dream of the three of them taking care of me. Also I’m sorry babe, I’m also going through it so we’re together on this

Warnings: Tamlin being mean to reader, anxiety, and fluff

Your luck for charming High Lords and their advisors has finally run out

You were on a roll on your little tour of Day, Winter, and Summer

But coming home from other courts empty handed sucked

Especially when it was the spring court

With Tamlin finally back in power with a group of advisors and his court put together he’s been full of himself acting all high and mighty

Yesterday was your first time there since the court was put together

Of course it was all males who didn’t respect you one bit and Tamlin was no help either

The spring high lord was very condescending and it brought out your insecurities about your place in the court

Tamlin also targeted your relationship with the boys, pointing out other flaws there

You slept in your own bed once you arrived at the town house since you left Spring so late

As you fell into a fitful sleep you dreaded the paper work you had to do in the morning

The next morning you found a note on the kitchen table from Rhys that read, Sorry we missed you darling. Emergency in Windhaven. We’ll be back tomorrow morning. We love you very much

You frown at the note but smile at the little heart drawn at the end

After breakfast you set out to do paperwork with infrequent visits from Amren about updates on court matters

Getting to the Spring Court report drained you

Just thinking about it makes your skin itch

You get up deciding to take a walk to clear your head

The walk didn’t help. It simply made things worse

There was too much around the town house that didn’t feel right to you. Like you needed to reorganize

But now you wanted new furniture and things bc the throw pillows didn’t look right and the couch looked too old

To distract from that you went into the kitchen to find a snack only to realize none of the boys went grocery shopping (who are you kidding it’s Nuala and Cerridwen that do it)

You slammed the cabinet shut

With the slam of the cabinet a cough crept up your throat

It was dry and you felt like you couldn’t breathe

You shouldn’t have traveled to Winter then Spring

Ignoring what the cough meant you remembered your report for Rhys and stomped back to your office

The report took way longer than you would’ve liked

Thinking about Tamlin and his comments about your relationship made you blood boil

As your anger washed away it turned into anxiety and sadness and doubt

Are you capable of this job if these males get to you so easily? Is your relationship and mating bond with the boys going to last?

You needed to shake this off. You closed your side of the bond as to not worry your mates. They don’t need to worry about you right now

You kept stewing in your anxiety and anger for the rest of the day

Amren left at 5 so you had dinner alone with what was left in the house. You’d go shopping tomorrow when your head was clear and you weren’t pissed at the fact that the boys forgot

Sleep evaded you that night as you wished your boys were here to hold you and whisper sweet nothings to you

Your cough kept you up all night as well

By the time the sun was up you were curled against against the headboard. Your eyes watering from that dry cough you’ve developed. You didn’t feel like moving, you were too tired. Too tired to even greet your mates at the door

Cassian’s heavy, booted footsteps come up the stairs first

Tears pricked your eyes from exhaustion and anxiety

Azriel silently pushed your bedroom door open, making his way over to your bed. “Hey princess, whats wrong?” You sniffle and start to cry harder into his chest

Without hesitating Az picked you up, rushing you to your shared bedroom. Rhys and Cass stop unpacking and move to comfort you

“My darling, why are you so upset?” You look up at the three of them with the saddest look on your face. Cassian wipes your tears with his thumbs giving you an equally sad look

You look back at Rhys tapping your temple for him to look at your memories. Rhys nods and you close your eyes

He shares your memories of the Spring meeting and your day yesterday. When it was over you opened your eyes to see Az and Cass fuming. Rhys was giving you a sympathetic look. “Darling, no. You do not listen to a word they say. You do not believe them. Everything they said was a lie, alright.” Rhys said firmly, cupping your face in his large hands

“You are our world, sweetheart. Don’t think for a second that you aren’t important.” Cassian stressed, kissing your forehead

The next few days are spent taking care of you and cheering you up

You read together, go out for meals, shopping for clothes books and anything else your heart desired or whatever the boys felt like spoiling you with. The boys even did the grocery shopping

They take turns holding you on their laps, keeping you tucked into their chest as they tell you stories from camp or when they first fell in love with you and other relationship stories

You have to admit, it was hilarious to imagine the people of Velaris staring as their High Lord, the General, and Spymaster food shop

Laughing about it did make you feel better

They spent the next few nights worshiping your body. Paying attention to every part of you that gets a reaction. Working you up to the most earth shattering orgasms you’ve ever had

By the end of the week you had put Tamlin and his court out of your mind, feeling overjoyed at the amount of love your mates show you

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