#eris modern au

[secret-third-thing]

Modern AU Eris

Art by @leylses

Commissioned by @secret-third-thing for Day 6 of @erisweek2023

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST

--

She doesn't read acotar, but I asked her what she thought of Eris. Her response was:

BARK BARK BARK BARK!

Honestly, same.

[sirenpearldust]

Broken doll

Pair: Azriel x reader, Eris x reader

Modern au

Description: You have it all, a loving family, friends, beauty, intelligence and talent. You were admired wherever you went but the only person you cared about was him, Azriel, your true love. But when Elaine enters the picture, everything changes. As Love shifts and loyalties waver, your heartbreak turns to fury.

series masterlist

⊹ Chapter 1

⊹ Chapter 2

⊹ Chapter 3

…

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter three: it's hot when you have a meltdown

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders, and also they play hockey in this one.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - all of your friends know about you and eris but refuse to speak on it. as the first hockey game of the season comes, so does the drama.

word count - 4.7k

a/n - this one is a long one...apologies. but i liveeeee for the drama and the constant lack of communication amongst these three. eris is fucking trying though.

read the rest of the series here!

You sat in Cassian and Azriel’s apartment. All of you had gathered to study, though it really seemed like you were the only one doing homework other than Amren. Mor’s book was open in front of her, but she was painting her nails that glimmering shade of red she was so fond of.  Rhys, Cass, and Az were all zeroed in on the TV watching old film reels of their last hockey game. Tomorrow was game day. The Velaris Devils vs the Autumn Court Smokehounds. You had been trying not to think about it and failing. 

“You’re a fucking idiot. What were you even trying to do with that move, Rhys?” 

Cassian pointed at the television and looked at his Rhys with a frustrated expression. Rhys shrugged and muttered something about being experimental. Mor chuckled from her seat and shot the boys a look while shaking her head. 

“You’re coming tomorrow right?” Cassian's voice was now directed at you. You shifted in your seat, chewing the end of your pen, and slowly raising your head to face all three teammates currently staring at you. Your whole friend group knew now…about Eris, but none of them mentioned anything. They all chose to stick with pointed silence. A new tactic, but it grated your nerves all the same. You took a deep breath. 

“Uhm. Yeah I guess.” 

Something soft and large hit you. You picked it up. Azriel’s jersey. Looking at him you arched a brow in question. He shrugged and just mumbled, 

“You’ve been wearing it every game since freshman year. It’s tradition.” 

Mor and Cassian exchanged glances after looking between you and Azriel. Both of them noted the small statement it made. Both of them knowing you’d wear it for traditions sake, not thinking about what it would do to Eris. Both of them knowing that what it would do to Eris, was the exact reason that Azriel offered up the idea in the first place. You nodded, tucking the shirt into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and standing up. Rhys watched you gather your things and pick up your jacket, 

“You’re leaving?”

You nod and look around the room. At the complete lack of work being done, “I actually have work to do and you three yelling about hockey is…believe it or not…not that a productive study environment for me.” 

He shook his head, full of mock disappointment, “How can you focus on math when the first game of the season is tomorrow?” 

“Well Rhysand…Some of us are on scholarship.” 

He pursed his lips like that. No witty response coming to him now. Cassian frowned and shoved a handful of pretzels in his mouth before speaking, 

“You’re not on scholarship”

You roll your eyes at him, “You don’t know that.” 

“Yeah I do. You’re not on scholarship you’re just anal about grades.” 

You flip him off before heading towards the door. Azriel reached an arm out and caught your wrist as you passed by him. His voice was low as he asked, 

“I’ll see you at the game?” 

You offer him a small smile and nod. You’d see him at the game….you’d also see Eris at the game…playing against each other.  And that thought alone was giving you a headache. 

★ ★ ★ 

You had tucked yourself into a window booth in a coffee shop on campus. It was drizzling outside, red and yellow leaves staining the sidewalk, the streetlights had just come on. Lighting the whole road golden. This was why autumn was your favorite season. It was like he was in the very air around you, every color, every smell. You shook your head. Trying to get Eris out of your head. 

Lucien slid into the seat across from you. His hair slightly wavy and braids ran throughout it, he pushed it over his shoulder as he leaned against the table. You looked up quickly, mistaking the red hair and the tall, broad shouldered, frame for someone else. He saw it in your eyes and cocked his head with a small smirk, 

“You know how I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for like the last three years?” 

You stop tapping your pen against the wooden table beneath your arm, and stare at him blankly, waiting for him to continue, 

“Imagine my devastation upon finding out you’ve been seeing my brother for the last month.” 

You shake your head and offer him a small smile, “Lucien you have never asked me out seriously.” 

“What the hell did Eris do?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Lucien watched as you shifted in your chair, the smile spreading across your face along with a light blush. He narrowed his eyes at you, he knew exactly what Eris had done to get this whole ball rolling. He had found you at a party, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaned in close, and did that stare he always did. The whole routine ended with the two of you talking for a while, laughing and trading light hearted insults, before he cocked his head towards the door and offered you a ride home. It always seemed to work for him. The fact that it had worked on you surprised Lucien a little bit. Although…It wasn’t every day that Eris offered a girl a ride home. It wasn’t everyday that Eris didn’t just hook up with a girl at the party before promptly leaving and not really talking to her again. But from the jump his brother had wanted you in his house…in his space. 

“So if I started acting like a cocky asshole would you give me a kiss too?” 

“Started?” 

Lucien clicked his tongue at your remark before pulling your coffee cup towards him and taking a sip. He nodded towards you, 

“You going to the game tomorrow?”

“Why do you care? Mr. I joined the frisbee team specifically to piss off my dad.” 

Lucien chuckled. Remembering how angry his father had been when he announced at family dinner that he had not gotten onto the hockey team like Eris, but that he instead had gone out of his way to play competitive frisbee in the park every weekend. 

“I don’t care. A certain admirer was hoping you'd be there to cheer him on…or are you two still pretending that nobody knows what’s going on between you?” 

Lucien pointed a finger, accusatory at you, with a teasing smile. You flip a page of your notebook absentmindedly. Why was it that you could never find a spot to do your homework in peace. Never. You sigh, 

“Yeah I’m going. I always go. For my friends.” 

Lucien nodded slowly, musing on the friend's comment, “Right. Because that’s not going to get messy.” 

“What are you implying?” 

“Are you going to pretend that the tension with Azriel and Eris isn’t going to be fucking palpable to anyone with half a braincell?” 

You ignored that comment. Choosing to zero in on your homework once more. Your eyes switched between your notes and the notes Eris had given you. There were perks to him being a year older than you, he had class note’s for most of the classes you happened to be taking this year. Lucien gave you a quick once over, before pulling a book out of his back pocket and leaning back in his chair. Deciding to sit with you for a little while. 

As the silence stretched on, the music of the cafe humming softly in the background, the scratch of your pen against paper insistent. Lucien found himself studying you. Your deliberate avoidance of anything in the past with your so-called friend. He couldn’t stop himself from being nosy. 

“Do you guys never talk about what happened two years ago?” 

Your eyes snapped to him. Alarmed. No you did not talk about it. 

Two years ago. When something in your dynamic with Azriel shifted…forever. 

You were upset. You had gotten too drunk and like always he seemed to be there. The first person to find you when you were upset. The only person who’s comfort ever seemed to actually matter. His quiet solace, exactly what you wanted when you were inebriated and distressed. You remembered the way you leaned into his hug. The way you looked up at him and without thinking kissed him full force. The way he responded immediately. The way he had pulled you into his room….

The way the next morning you had dressed as quietly as you could and snuck out before he could wake up. The way the two of you never talked about it. Both of you hoping the other was too drunk to really remember what actually happened. Your friendship went on like nothing was different. All your friends knew. No one talked about it. 

Your voice was clipped when you responded, “No we don’t.” 

Lucien let it drop. Deciding maybe it was better not to push it. Maybe it was better to let it stay forgotten. 

★ ★ ★ 

Eris had one hand against the counter. Leaning on it as he pushed a wooden spoon around in a pot. You watch from your stool. Your eyes rake over him, hair mussed and his sweater a little baggy, a thread at the cuff of his sleeve coming loose. 

“Are you sure you can cook?” 

He didn’t turn to look at you, his focus entirely on the stove in front of him, “Why do you have no faith in me?” 

You chuckle quietly, “I have faith…in most aspects of you.” 

He started to plate whatever it is that he had made, still using his body to block it from your sightline. Finally he turned around and placed a bowl in front of you, moving to sit next to you at the kitchen island, 

“Pasta is kind of hard to mess up.” He stated before kissing your temple and pointedly looking at your food, waiting for you to try it. You took a bite and nodded slowly, making a mockingly concerned face as you did. He raised his hands in defense, 

“Okay it is not that bad, come on.” You giggled and shook your head, giving in, admitting it was good silently. He nodded his victory and nudged your elbow with his own. You ate in silence for a couple minutes. Taking in each other's company. Every now and then his hand would trace down your back, or through your hair, the small touches an ever present comfort. His apartment littered with your things. Your books on the coffee table in the living room. Your toothbrush in a cup on his bathroom sink. 

He brushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, so he could see your face. 

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” 

You pause before nodding slowly. A small smile grew across his fox like features, 

“So..You gonna sit on the smoke hounds side?” 

“You know…I have made prior seating arrangements.” 

He nodded slowly. You were going to sit on the Velaris side. Of course you were. That’s your school and your friends played for the team. Of course you were. He didn’t know why he hoped that you would sit and support him. Didn’t know why he thought you’d choose him over your friends. Maybe because you were sitting in his kitchen tonight instead of going out with Mor and Cassian. Maybe it was because you had been sleeping in his bed for the last couple weeks, seemingly unable to sleep comfortably without him. 

You studied his face. Watched as the disappointment hit him and he quickly covered it with a slight nod and a raise of his eyebrows, looking back at his dinner. You take a deep breath, 

“But…I’ll be rooting for you” You lean to kiss him, “And I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards.” 

He grinned at the idea that you thought he would win. That he’d beat your friends. But then he thought about your statement. I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards. Here. In his apartment. His brows furrowed, 

“Why don’t we ever go out?” 

“What like a date?” 

He nodded as if it was obvious. You smile and a crease in your brows start to furrow. 

“Eris you don’t date anyone.” 

“I date.” His tone was defensive and he straightened his shoulders to better look at you. 

“Eris. You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date.” 

He thought about the two of you. In the last couple weeks. What are we doing then? He wondered to himself. What was this if not dating? Why did you think he made himself so available to you? Why did you think he managed to find you throughout the day without even asking, caring enough to know your favorite spots and your schedule. Why did you think that he spoke to you so gently and craved your touch so constantly. Why did you think that he wanted you to sleep in his bed and nothing else, if not because he liked you. He sucked in a breath. Steeling his nerves. 

“Well, if I win…You owe me a date. A real one. You have to let me take you to the bar with the team.” He took your hand in his as he looked at you, “To celebrate.” 

A slow smile creeped across your face. He wanted you to go out with him. With his friends. You nod. A silent acceptance. Swallowing the guilt in your throat as you did so. The guilt that you had to show up tomorrow in a jersey that wasn’t his. Sit on a side that wasn’t his. But you had to support your friends. There had to be a way to do both.  

★ ★ ★ 

You slide into the arena with no notice. Pulling your jacket tight around you. Your eyes searching for a familiar face. None were in sight. Mor wasn’t here yet. You thought about going into the stands and taking your seat, but instead opted to hurry down the hall towards the locker rooms. The smoke hounds were leaving their locker room as you passed. A couple of the Vanserra brothers eyed you, one of them shooting a high pitched whistle your way and yelling, 

“Your boyfriends in there.” 

You roll your eyes and keep walking, quickly, and duck past the door. Letting it slam closed behind you. Eris was sitting on a bench. Not yet dressed, a towel slung across his hips. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the team for warm ups?” He raised his head at the sound of your voice, standing up to take a couple strides towards you. His arms came up to cage you against a locker and an annoyingly smug smile graced his face. 

“I was waiting to see if you might come to wish me luck.” His hand came down to slowly pull off your jacket and his eyes fell to the name across your shirt. SHADOWSINGER. His brows furrowed and he stared silently at it. 

“It’s not…I wear it the first game of every season…like tradition or something.” You tried to explain. Thinking he might understand the athlete rituals or whatever they were. The good luck charms. He pursed his lips and chose not to say anything. Instead his fingers toyed with the bottom of the jersey and he slowly pulled it off of you, before capturing your lips with his. You let your fingers slide up his arms, across his bare shoulders, and into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. 

★ ★ ★ 

Mor studies the way you shift slightly in your seat, like you just can’t quite get comfortable. Amren sits next to you, not paying attention to the game at all, eyes glued to whatever complicated book in a foreign language she had started. Mor watches as you run your fingers through your hair, as if paranoid that it looks a mess. It doesn’t. Her eyes narrow as she watches the way you track Eris Vanserra move across the ice. 

“So are we ever going to talk about it?” 

“Talk about what Mor?” 

“You and Eris Vanserra.” 

You sigh, eyes not leaving the game playing out in front of you, “What do you want to say?” 

“Are you sure that it’s a good idea?” 

“Yeah I think I am.” 

She continues staring at you until you finally slump your shoulders and turn to her. You look her up and down, take in her crossed arms and her doubt laced expression. 

“Mor he’s…he’s sweet to me.” 

“Eris Vanserra doesn’t date people though. He fucks around and doesn’t care about the consequences.” 

“This is different. He wants-” 

She raised a hand to cut you off, “What does he want? What exactly is it that he told you he wants?” 

“Morrigan just leave it. She trusts him and there’s nothing we can do.” Amren mumbled from beside you, drawing your attention. 

You scowl at her tone, bored and slightly disbelieving her own words, and turn away from her. Your eyes falling to where he stands on the ice. Those russet eyes meeting yours with a wink before he takes off down the rink. You turn back to her with a small smile, 

“He wants me. Like really wants me and makes that clear. Not everyone does that.” You give her a pointed look as you say it. A look that told her to drop it. A look that said don’t bring up anyone else. I know who you want to compare him to, don’t. She holds your stare and relents. Uncrossing her arms and nodding. Maybe you were right. He did seem to follow you around like a puppy, as if no one else could see the way he trailed a couple feet behind you at parties, or the way he left minutes after you did. She offers you a small smile, laced with a little concern, but warm nonetheless.

You both whip your heads back towards the ice at the sound of a crash. A collision. Shouts echoed through the arena, a mix of booing, heckling, and cheering on the brawl now taking place on the ice. Your eyes scan the fight, trying desperately to see who it is, but you already know. Before you can even see the names on the backs of the jerseys you already know exactly who’s locked horns. 

★ ★ ★ 

Azriel saw him out of the corner of his eye, before the impact came. Knew it was going to happen, but didn’t have time to brace himself for it. Eris Vanserra blocked his pass to Cassian by slamming his entire body weight into him. Azriel hit the ground with a thud and a rattle of hockey sticks. His helmet damn near cracking ice with the sheer force of the fall. Eris standing above him a smirk playing on his lips, the auburn hair pressed to his forehead with sweat, his shoulders rising in a half hearted shrug as he started to skate away. 

Azriel scrambled to his feet, whipping his helmet off and shouting, “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?” 

Eris turned towards him now, pausing his retreat to purse his lips as if he was thinking and shrugging once more, “I don’t have a problem man. Just doing my job.” 

Azriel wanted to punch the smirk off his face. He squared his shoulders, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to stop himself from launching at the opposing team’s player. He didn’t miss the way Eris’ eyes flitted towards the stands. Azriel looked over his shoulder, to where you and Mor were sitting, the conversation you were having seemed a little heated. Your back turned just enough to see his name splayed across your shirt. His eyebrows raised in understanding and he let out a low laugh, just loud enough for Eris to hear, 

“Oh…You're mad that your girls got my name across her back.” 

Eris’ jaw set. His eyes steeled. A flash of anger, before that swaggering indifference came back and he pulled off his helmet, “You know I was mad about it. But uh..I’m not too upset anymore.

Azriel skated a little towards him as he whispered, “And why is that?” He was baiting him. Azriel knew that. He knew that he shouldn’t ask, knew that the answer to it would only fuel his anger. 

“Well, when I fucked her in that jersey, minutes before the game started…your name was the last thing she was thinking about.” 

The grin on Eris’ face was that last thing Azriel saw before he snapped. Launching himself towards Vanserra, his fist hitting the side of the man's face, both of them falling to the ground. He could have sworn he heard Eris laugh as his fist hit home again. Drawing blood. Both men tustling on the ground, fists flying, the crowd roaring. Eris topped him easily, almost too easily, like Azriel didn’t want to win. But he didn’t care as long as he got to punch the raven haired man underneath him until he was bruised and bloody. 

Cassian rushed towards his friend. Cursing under his breath as he threw himself into the brawl, pulling Azriel from under Eris and restraining him. Rhys at his side, holding Azriel’s other arm. The three players looked at Eris, still grinning, blood dripping from his hairline, and his mouth. He shakes his sweat drenched hair, tongue wagging as he watched Azriel get pulled away by his friends. 

Both of them were taken out of the game. Benched for the remainder. 

★ ★ ★ 

You raced down the hallway towards the locker rooms as soon as the game was over. Not sure entirely who you wanted to check on first. Mor was close at your heels. Amren had excused herself to drive to the bar stating that she needed a drink before she could deal with any drama. 

When you rounded the corner you were met with Eris and Azriel, already at each other's throats. Cassian standing a couple feet away, waiting for it to get bad enough to intervene. Azriel snarling something that you couldn’t quite make out and Eris meeting it with some lazy insult and a smug smirk. You took in his appearance, his blood stained hair and his busted lip, concern shot like lightning through your bloodstream. You shot your words at the eldest Vanserra first, 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He turned towards you, as did Azriel. 

“With me? He hit me first?” 

“And then you pummeled him into the fucking ground and got yourself hurt in the fucking process!” 

Azriel had moved slightly to stand behind you. Eris took in the sight. You fuming with frustration and Azriel towering behind you like some sort of guard dog. He scoffed and spat a mouthful of blood into the ground, 

“Typical.” He shook his head before turning away. He started to walk towards the locker room, before pausing and looking over his shoulder, “Can you really not see what he’s doing? What giving you that fucking shirt was supposed to do? You think he didn’t do that on purpose? To spread some seed of doubt? To make you choose, knowing damn well you’d choose your friend. Are you that blind?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Eris nodded shortly before letting out a humorless, breathy laugh, and pushing through the locker room door with one final comment, “I can’t do this. I’m done.” 

“What does that mean?” You called after him. But the door closed behind him and he didn’t bother responding. You stared at the closed door as if he might come back out, as if he might change his mind. Hoping that he would. Hoping he didn’t mean it. A minute went by….and nothing. 

You rounded on Azriel now,

“Is that true?” You crossed your arms over your chest, “Did you do that on purpose?” 

He shrugged, not meeting your eyes, “I don’t know what youre talking about.” 

Your eyes widened and you sucked your teeth in annoyance, “You don't?” 

Every single time you liked someone. Every single time someone liked you. Something went wrong. Your friends managed to convince you they weren’t good enough, or scare them away if that didn’t work. Every single conversation about what you deserved, the way their eyes would flit to Azriel. 

He stood silent in front of you. His expression stony and unyielding, so you continued,

“Why did you want me to wear this then?” You fisted the shirt wrapped around you. Brandishing it towards him to the best of your ability. He frowned and looked you up and down. 

You looked good. Angry, hair falling in front of your face. Stance defensive like you were ready for a fight yourself. Your eyes glittering as tears seemed to prick them incessantly. You looked good. It was all he could think as your question rang through his ears. He tried to think of a response. Something that would sound good, something that would release him of guilt, but he couldn’t. 

“You look good.”

His answer was short, and blunt, and lacking the tells of any lie. You laughed now. Tears threatening to spill. You shook your head quickly. Sniffling, trying to staunch the tears. 

“Well…you did what you do best. You ruined another fucking thing for me. Are you proud?” 

No response. 

“Are you happy now?” 

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. You held your expression still. Letting them fall silently. Refusing to sob. Refusing to give him the satisfaction. Refusing to let him step towards you to wrap you in a hug and release himself of any responsibility with the excuse of comfort. 

He took an uneasy step towards you, reaching out for you. Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel stopped in his tracks. Recognizing the sound as a warning. He sighed and let his arm fall back to his side. 

“I’m sorry” It was all he could think to say. He didn’t feel sorry. He knew he should but he couldn't muster up the feeling. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew that the jersey would make a problem, knew that Eris would pick a fight. Knew that your concern would fester into an anger and cause you to lash out, it always did. 

You looked at him, incredulous, mouth agape, “You’re sorry?” 

Your tone made him straighten, bristle even. “He wasn’t right for you. If this was all it took to shake him.” 

“And who is right for me?” You were seething. Your words dripping with venom, stained with tears, “You?” 

You?

It hit Azriel hard. Cassian took a step towards the pair of you before Mor’s hand fell to his arm, halting his movement. Slightly shaking her head as if saying they need to have it out. 

“Well you didn’t seem to think so.” Azriel’s voice was cool and quiet. Like the first fall of snow before the storm. 

“What exactly do you mean by that?” 

You knew exactly what he meant. That he was referencing that night two years ago. The way you had left before the sun rose. The way you had never spoken about it again. The way you had let it simmer all these years.

And then the storm hit. Icy and raging. His voice dark like he’d never even known that the sun could shine. 

“You left…You want to talk about ruining things? Then tell me why.” 

You stared at each other. A silent battle of will. Mor and Cassian standing tense from their position a few feet away. Waiting for you to strike back. Waiting for some ending statement. Some final hurt laced come back. But nothing came, and the teams started to stream out of the locker rooms. Breaking the rigid silence. 

You turned away from your friends. I can't, I'm done. You weren’t going to let that be the end. You pushed your way through the Autumn Court team exiting the locker room. 

Azriel watched you go. His heart pounding. Bringing up that night two years ago was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn't have pushed it. It did more harm than good. He felt Cassian’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the hallway. His silence speaking volumes. When Cassian couldn’t find anything to say, Azriel knew he really fucked it. Not even Mor would look at him as she walked away, probably going to join Amren. 

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[surielstea]

Puppy Love

Eris week day two: Childhood

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x WinterCourt!Reader

Summary: Reader and Eris adventure beyond their courts borders to go hunting in the secluded, evergreen forest.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff | adolescent Eris is a force to be reckoned with.

2.5k words.

The crisp, cold air fogged in front of my mouth as I let out a relishing breath. Officially winter, the season sacred to my Court. I nearly giggled with delight as my boots crunched in the snow, the sweet sound putting a beaming smile on my face.

I was on my trek towards the Autumn Court border, where I'd meet with Eris. Vanserra, a young lord and the sole heir of the Autumn Throne, though rumor has it that the Lady of Autumn was pregnant with another.

Eris and I met last year when he scared off my prey with his loud steps, I practically growled in his face but he only stared at me wide-eyed with flushed cheeks— and then I realized he had never met a girl who wasn't tripping over themselves in attempt to charm him, a young handsome lord would be any Court Lady's dream. That day he had claimed he didn't know what he was doing, that his father sent him out here with some fancy arrows and told him to bring back dinner. I gave him my harvest that day and he demanded I teach him how to hunt, and we've met every morning since.

"I hate the cold," The young lord grumbled, his reddened nose awfully adorable and destroying his facade of distaste.

"Of course you do, Lordling." I sigh. "Accustomed to a life of warm meals and crackling fireplaces," I drone on as I approach him, my white fur cloak blending in with the blinding snow.

His lip curled. "You're a princess, you're accustomed to that too."

I shrug. "Yes but I, unlike you, don't whine when the weather isn't to my liking," I hum with a snarky smile.

He deadpanned. "If I recall, five months ago you were moaning and groaning about the heat." He retorted and my smile fell.

"Well then," I click my tongue. He looks down at the basket in my hands, his brow raised.

"This is a gift for you, for our one-year friend anniversary." I hum and hold the wicker basket out to him, the blanket over it shifting with movement. He looked at it curiously, as if whatever was inside might bite his hand off.

"Friend zoned? After all my efforts of attempting to enchant you?" He says, taking the basket from me. I give him an incredulous look. He knew it'd never work, that the Prince with fire in his veins and Princess of ice and snow could never be together, forever opposing courts. No matter how badly I wished for that fact to change.

"Just, open it." I push the basket into his hand and he takes it, a sniffling snout peaking out from beneath the blanket. Eris looked at me slightly alarmed but I only gave him an encouraging smile. He sighs and flips back the rest of the blanket, revealing a pup with a gray coat, his tail wagging excitedly at the sight of his new owner.

"Where did you get this?" He looked at me with alarmed confusion and I rolled my eyes.

"My uncle gifted him to me on solstice, but we don't have the right environment to train and take care of him," I took the pup from his basket and cradled him in my arms, he chuffed and attempted to lick my cheek.

"He's a hunting dog, a smoke hound to be exact," I explain and hand him to Eris, who holds the dog like he was an alien.

"I know what he is. Do you understand what you're giving away?" He raises a brow. Smokehounds were the best breed in Prythian, not only that but this was a pure breed, so rare that even one was extremely difficult to come by. I knew the Autumn Court had prized them, and I could think of no one more deserving than the young lord who had snuck his way into my frozen heart this past year.

"Yes, very aware." I smile.

"I can't accept him, any of this," He shakes his head and puts the dog back into the basket, and attempts to hand it back to me.

"But look, he's already so attached to you,"  I argue with adoring eyes as the pup licks at Eris's ringed fingers.

"Let him hunt with us today, and then we'll decide who he goes home with." I place the basket down and watch as the hound spills out of it, trotting through the deep snow. His thick coat kept him warm, and his tongue lolling out was enough to say he was happy to be outside rather than trapped in my castle, to be doing what he was born to.

"Fine," Eris sighed, then grabbed his bow from his back. I did the same with mine. We followed the dog through the forest, allowing him to lead us as he tracked an invisible scent that even our fae senses couldn't pick up. His long ears nearly dragged through the snow as he trudged forward.

"What will you name him?" I ask softly, my voice quiet in fear of scaring off any prey.

"You can name him," Eris grumbled, showing only disinterest in the dog. I'd find it rude if I didn't know him better than that. He was trying to let it not get to him, he had never received such a meaningful gift for no real reason. He didn't like the warm feeling in his chest that he had never quite been able to control.

"Come on," I groan. "At least bounce ideas with me?" I suggest but he ignores me and I stop in my tracks, staring at him and sheathing my arrow back in its quiver.

He halted too after realizing I had stopped and turned to me with a raised brow.

"Why do you do this," I sigh.

"Do what?" He slings his bow over his shoulder.

"Deny any form of admiration I try to give you?" I stride closer, only a pace but enough to send him a message.

He stayed silent, only swallowing thickly as a reply. "It's a hound, Princess. I appreciate it but it's too grand of a gesture—" He begins to argue after a moment but I cut him off.

"This isn't about the dog." I shake my head. "Why do you refuse to let me you let me love you?" My brows crease and he bristles at my wording, but that is what it was, isn't it? That warm feeling he couldn't control that twisted him into knots, it was love, and he was terrified of it.

"Because I don't feel the same." He wills himself to say and a twinge of pain cracks through my heart but I remain strong.

"Liar," I snarl. "What are you so afraid of?" I take another step forward, so close that if I reached out, I could grab his hand in mine.

He shrugs and looks to the side, at the long line of evergreen trees that were more free than him, rooted into the frozen soil but still, alive and thriving. Far more than he'd ever be while chained to a throne. "Eris," I whisper and he shudders at the way I say his name. It was too intimate, it held none of the malice it often did when his father spat it, only heavy with adoration and guilt. "Eris look at me," I say and he steels his features, because my eyes were too much for him to bear, the eyes of the female he loves, and that horrifies him, because he cannot fool or trick me when I stare at him with those all-seeing eyes, cannot attempt to plot or ensnare when I look at him like that.

"I'm afraid of my father finding out," He confesses. "Terrified that if he discovers that something other than power makes me happy, he'd destroy it." His voice was as pure and raw as the fresh snow beneath our feet.

"We're seventeen, we shouldn't have to worry about that—" I begin but it was his turn to cut me off.

"But we're not normal kids, we will never be normal kids." He reached out and cupped my cheeks, and despite the negative temperatures, his palms were warm and soothing against my icy skin. "And I can't risk you."

"I'm a princess of my court, sole heir to the Winter Throne. To hurt me would be an act of war, he cannot touch me." I claim.

"No, but he will find a way. He will cleave us and tear us apart until you hate me." He claims and I frown.

"That will never happen." I shake my head, refusing the idea of ever hating the male that stood in front of me.

"Won't it?" His hands on my face press firmer, stressing his point. "We're heirs of opposing courts, inevitably we will become enemies." He explains.

"But we could be the ones to form an alliance," A fool's dream. The autumn court was too prideful to accept any other court, and the winter court would never ally with fire bringers. "Can't we just be stupid and reckless and young, for once?" I plead. "Even for only a few moments?" I say and reach forward, gripping his tunic in my fist.

"Is that too much to ask for?" I murmur and his eyes soften.

"Far too much," He replies, his warm breath mingling with mine. "But I'm willing to give it to you," He says, his voice steady and warm like crackling embers to a recently put-out fire.

"As a friend-anniversary present?" I taunt him with a teasing smirk and he shakes his head.

"You don't know how to shut up do you?" He drawls and I smile.

"I can think of one way," I suggest, stumbling forward and his breath hitched as I rose onto my toes and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. I pulled back with a soft smile and that was enough to send him reeling. He advanced forward, his fingers singing with heat against my cheeks as his lips, finally, met mine.

It was innocent and gentle, and a little awkward, but gods was it perfect. The kiss alone heated my entire body, all the way down to my fingertips which were still clutching his green tunic. Realizing I was still gripping him I relaxed my hands and allowed them to slip up his chest, around to the nape of his neck so I could pull him closer and encase myself in his warmth while he deepened our kiss.

My stomach clenched when he pulled away, it was quick, only a moment— exactly what I had asked for. I hadn't realized I was now going to crave those moments until the end of me.

He looked at me, his cheeks flushed and I knew it wasn't the cold that tinged them. "You ruined my makeup," I say, reaching up and wiping away the smear of cosmetics on his bottom lip.

"But you look beautiful," He mumbled, too caught up in the action of me so casually touching his lips. I lift my eyes up to his gold-flecked ones and smile wickedly.

"That kiss really did a number on you," I taunt because it was the only way to stop myself from being greedy and kissing him again, and again, and again until I could recall the exact feel of his lips from memory.

He looked to the side, attempting to get rid of his blush, forget about how perfectly he slotted against you.

Then his brows bunch in concern and my spine stiffens with alarm. "What is it?" I ask, looking out towards the empty forest.

"Your dog already got lost." He grumbled and I relaxed, my shoulders slumping.

"He's your dog," I stress. "And he's not lost. He's hunting." I say proudly and Eris casts me an unbelieving glance. I smile at him and press a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Come on," I take his hand in mine and drag him through the frosted-over forest. "We have to catch at least a few squirrels before leaving," I say and he mumbles a string of curses but follows me anyway.

We had been crouched behind a bush for so long now that my legs began to ache from my position. Eris was fletching an arrow leaning back against a tree, his auburn hair blending in with the trunk of the redwood. I admire his pale features, his sharp nose, and high cheekbones. His amber eyes that were flecked with gold if you were close enough to notice. I was just about to blurt something foolish about how handsome he was, when the crunch of snow sent my ears peeking up.

Eris froze too, becoming alert and peering over the side of the tree as I drew my arrow from its quiver and nocked it against my bowstring. The sound of steps comes from behind, straight at us, growing faster.

I whirl around and aim at the grey creature bounding towards Eris.

The smokehound pup trotted towards him with a limp rabbit in his maw. The hound chuffs then drops it at Eris' feet as an offering. "Aw, he's brought you a gift," I beam wildly. "You should turn the rabbit into jerky and treat him with it. He'd love that," I say while patting the pup's dark coat.

His gaze lingers on you for a long moment, analyzing your gentle features when you look at the dog. "Maybe I will," He mutters and I look over to him with a soft smile. "I think we're done for the day," I say and stand upright, stretching my legs as I do so. He does the same, the pup looking up at him with his tail wagging excitedly. Eris bent down and patted the dog's head and the hound began running circles around the both of us.

Eris shakes his head with feigned annoyance. I grabbed him by his collar and pulled him forward, right into me. His arms wrapped around my waist on instinct, stabilizing himself with his hands planted on my torso— and even through all the layers of clothing, I could feel the warmth emanating from him. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" I tilt my head up at him and he nods with a soft smile.

"Mhm, bring Flynt," I say and he raises his brows.

"Is that his name, now?" He asks, looking down at the dog weaving between us happily.

"You said I could pick," I shrug innocently and his smile grows.

"Flynt it is," He nods, then leans forward and places a soft, precious kiss on my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, Princess." He whispers against my frosty skin and I nod, taking a wobbly step back and turning away towards my Court before I got the idea in my head that I could find us an empty cabin to live in until we were old and rotting.

I don't bother with goodbyes and continue my march towards the Mountain Home. But I did look back, just once, to see Eris and his new obedient pet walking alongside each other back towards the realm of crackling bonfires and falling leaves.

Eris Week Tag List: @adharanotfound @mp-littlebit @its-me-meg @olive-main @bookwormysblog @inurus @iwishiwasaprincess @randomgurl2326 @tigerlily00 @i-know-i-can @bubybubsters @booklover0318 @lalaluch @hallabongy @paintedbyshadows @ninthcircleofprythian @weirdo-fun

Comment an “🧡” to be added to the Eris Week tag list!

[bonecarversbestie]

What side of TikTok I think the acotar characters would be on:

Feyre: painting/art, cat videos, furniture flipping/remodelling/diy

Rhys: he just watches the videos Feyre shows him before bed and cleantok

Nesta: booktok, witchtok (obviously) and those cucumber recipes, hot farrier videos

Cassian: “inspirational” content from gymbros and lifestyle coaches who wake up at 5 am to meditate and read self help books before hitting the gym and then eating boiled chicken and rice with steamed broccoli and go to bed at 8:30pm

Elain: cottage core, gardening, asmr candy scooping, baking

Lucien: he watches those videos of middle aged dudes who build cabins from scratch in the woods

Eris: he’s very into critiquing ppl doing TikTok dances, gay TikTok

Tamlin: personal attention role play asmr and Feyre edits.

Azriel: mostly watches drama/gossip videos and calls it “gathering intel”. Also random videos of raves and dj sets, thirst traps

Gwyn: also booktok, pimple popping, synchronised swimming

Emerie: also booktok, cooking, videos of booktok gym girlies doing the Nesta Challenge on the StairMaster

Mor: lesbian drama, horse videos, perfume tok

Amren: doesn’t know what TikTok is. Doesn’t have a phone.

[ysmtttty]

Azris AU with Azriel as Eris’ bodyguard.

Just Azriel as Eris’ bodyguard.

[velidewrites]

Thoroughly saddened to report Marcel Vanserra smokes in a Modern AU 😔

View on Instagram

[strykozart]

Vanserra Ink 🍂

For @azrisweek Day 3: Contact

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

[g00seg1rl]

Collateral Damage

Pairing: Azriel x Eris Vanserra

Summary: Eris is having a bad day. His twerp of a little brother, Lucien, crashed his car into a motorcyclist. Eris expects chaos and insurance nightmares. Instead, he gets a hot date.

Read both chapters on ao3

but here’s a lil snippet from chapter one 🤭

"Tomorrow night."

Azriel's expectant stare transitioned into something far more wicked. "Sounds good, Vanserra. Why don't you meet me at Romano's on 72nd around seven?"

Nesta cleared her throat slightly to his left.

"I'll be there," Eris replied, ignoring the woman who’d be paying for his car insurance if she fucked this up for him.

"See you." Azriel walked away after one last eye-fuck, Eris watched his ass as he walked up to the awaiting oaf in the Sentra on the corner.

"You have a meeting with Mathew tomorrow at eight," Nesta said, looking at him as if that was supposed to absolve him of his newfound obligation to get to know Azriel No-Last-Name.

"He can be pushed to Monday, Daddy needs some ass."

Lucien pretended to hurl. "Oh, fuck off," Eris snapped. "I'm here because you couldn't handle getting a blowjob. Now get in the car, I'll drop you two off at your apartment."

"Okay, thanks Eris. I really am sorry."

"Just get in the car, twerp."

So so so many thank you’s to my goddess and beta reader, @the-darkestminds, you are hilarious, brilliant and slutty and I love you for all of it and so much more 😘

And thank you @nus4y and @jules-writes-stories for helping me slut this fic out, you’re both so amazing💗

it took me far too long to figure out how to use line dividers- thank you @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for this lacy gem 🤭

Tag list (some lovely people I know who like some Azris smut lol): @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @astro-h0e-4azris @mistandmemories @pippsmcgee @nus4y @iftheshoef1tz @fingerpoppingood @fourteentrout @chunkypossum @brunetterebel010 @jolenes-library @aurorasleeps-27 @mudandmire @queercontrarian @talibunny30 @neciebee @molcat07 @ninthcircleofprythian (please let me know if you want in on the future shenanigans)

[jules-writes-stories]

The Night Court Lounge | Tribeca, NYC

I forgot to post my WIP...Thursday? | Azriel x Eris AU |

“Perhaps I might have resisted a great temptation, but the little ones would have pulled me down” ―The House of Mirth

There was nothing like spotting one’s mother at a BDSM club. 

The ink was still wet on his parents’ divorce papers, but there she was for all to see, sprawled across Helion’s lap. After all, the Vanserras could always be counted on to feed the tabloids and gossip columns. 

Eris planned to finish his whiskey and make a discrete exit. But then, his heart leapt into his throat and his dick hardened at first sight. 

He’d been expecting Thesan in his usual get up. Eris occasionally came to The Night Court to support his ex. The man could still turn him on like no one else. They’d never been good at long-term relationships, but they could be each other’s confidantes, a soft place to fuck and forget for a spell. 

Eris had hoped to get that from his ex tonight, and was taken aback when something, someone, completely different entered the main stage. 

The man looked younger and Thesan’s lithe body and smooth brown skin was replaced by a lighter, golden tone, covered in scrolling Arabic across a sleek muscled chest. In place of white feathers were black leather bat wings. 

Eris found the whole thing to be absurd and had teased Thesan about it incessantly. But this man, his broad tattooed shoulders, the planes of his abs below the leather harness, those wings did something to him. He needed to go to fucking sleep or get laid.

Black lined eyes like topaz gazed out at the crowd. Eris wanted to smell those black curls, to test their silk between his fingers. He was being absurd. 

The beautiful man got to his knees in the most submissive prone position in the cage, and Eris watched him lean, like an overgrown house cat, into the auctioneer’s hand as she stroked those curls through iron bars. And fuck if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. This man was dangerous, even caged, and Eris wanted that creature purring between his legs. 

Then Helion made a spectacle of himself, announcing his intentions, and that sealed the deal. Eris would win. He hadn’t made the Wall Street Journal’s “30 Money Makers under 30” lists three years in a row for nothing. He was an apex predator in every boardroom, could dominate every corner of the market. But what made him dangerous was his discretion.

The Wall Street wolves of Beron’s generation were past their prime. They were showy hunters who howled at every win, too certain of their supremacy and too concerned with pack politics. Thanks to a twenty four hour news cycle and social media, the current global market was volatile, and one must be ready to strike silently and with sudden force. For Eris Vanserra was no wolf. He was a snake. 

He watched the kneeling figure, whose eyes traveled the room. Eris needed them on him. Look at me. See me. And almost as if the beautiful, dark creature read his thoughts, his head turned and hazel locked with his own. Fuck. Eris watched those gorgeous eyes travel along his face, lingering on his mouth. He smirked. Then, lower, down to his shoulders, to his chest, and lingered, once more, on his fingers. Eris moved them, ever so slowly, along the wet rim of his cocktail glass. 

As those glittering eyes followed them, Eris swore he saw the man’s pupils blow out further. This beautiful stranger wanted him. And Eris had to possess this caged creature, needed to steal him away from Helion, from the pretentious Lord Winters, from Donna Suriel, the most sadistic bitch on this side of the Hudson. But mostly, Eris just wanted to watch that gorgeous face unfold with pleasure. Wanted that perfect body prone beneath him, before him, begging for release. 

He was coiled in position and ready. And then Eris clocked it: a shadow of discomfort passed across the man’s face. He shifted and this time, it was not with arousal. His legs were cramping and he was tired. He gave three taps to his leg. He saw it for what it was. The sub had used his safe signal. Feyre, the auctioneer, almost imperceptibly, picked up the pace. She’d seen it too. 

Those hazel eyes locked with his once more, as if to say, Don’t you want me? Eris kept his face impassive. He would reveal nothing. It was how he got this far, how he'd survived twenty-seven years as Beron’s son, and had made his name as the Viper of Wall Street. 

“Forty thousand,” Helion called out in his bombastic voice. 

Feyre called out quickly, “Forty thousand. Going once, twice and—” 

He struck. “Fifty thousand.” Eris was sure to keep his voice level, his timbre smooth. It did no good to sound desperate or overwrought. 

Hazel eyes locked with his, and it took all his will power not to stand up and take what was his. Because the caged, leashed, beautiful man, there on his knees, literally leaned forward, subtly arching his back so perfectly, as if his body couldn’t help but move closer to the sound of Eris’s voice. The auctioneer must have seen the same thing, because she didn’t give anyone a chance to counter. 

“Sold to Eris Vanserra for fifty thousand dollars.”  

[spiritedstars]

Drawing Up the Plans [ Eiris Modern AU ]

Prompt: Modern AU Eris x Iris "celebrate" Valentine's Day. Inspired by this post. I have no other excuses. / Find it all here. Rated: SFW. Brought to you by: Taylor Swift's - I Think He Knows & Gorgeous Author's Note: Happy love month! Here are my morons doing their thing in modern au format. I had fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it :) [ Repost of my original one from 2023 with some minor updates ]

tagging: @riorsonxaden /  @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @positivewitch / @animezinglife / @zenkindoflove / @rosewood-cafe / @clockwork-ashes / @carnythian / @secret-third-thing / @runningwiththeoceans / @that-golden-lyre / @thedarkinmansfield / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @mali22 / @readthelastpaage / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @devilsfoodcake22 / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @feysandfeels / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @gracie-rosee / @mage-neve / @illyrianvalkyrie / @saint-stella / @carolynmezzosoprano / @rainbowsnowflake / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @lalaluch /

Iris watched him with a look of slight disdain on her face as her...whatever he was, sat across from her at their local ice cream shop. Eris was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, an ice cream cone in one hand and his eyes locked on his phone in the other.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as he nonchalantly brought the cone closer to his mouth and licked the creamy sweetness. 

She clenched her fingers around her spoon and scowled. 

It was just ice cream. He was only eating ice cream and yet — Iris clenched her thighs together and her scowl deepened when his traitorous tongue darted out again to take more.

It was obscene. Slightly erotic. But mostly it was obscene and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. 

Iris didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing it was doing something to her. They’d only been orbiting around each other for a few weeks, and she was barely tolerating their interactions. He was so obnoxious and yet despite her many attempts to avoid him, they kept running into each other. The two of them ended up in the same space too often for it to be anything but fate.

She blamed it on how small this town seemed to be. And the fact that he was a rich, attractive man with too much confidence. Iris had moved into town a few months ago and during her first week, stumbled into him at the local bar where he spilled his drink on her. He insisted it was an accident but that hadn’t stopped her from throwing her drink at his face in return.

Needless to say, they treaded very aggressively around each other.

“Is there something wrong, Iris?” he asked and Eris met her gaze with a slight smirk, finally putting his phone away. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Everything about you is wrong.” she mumbled and her gaze dropped to her own cup of ice cream. Iris had opted for a cup rather than a cone; She didn’t exactly trust what would come out of his mouth if she licked an ice cream cone in front of him. 

She twirled the spoon in the sweetness as Eris chuckled then made the mistake of looking up to watch him as he once more, slowly, took another lick of his ice cream with a raised brow. 

“You seem to have quite a problem with me and yet, here you are.”

“You asked me to meet you here, asshole.” she snapped and the corner of his wicked mouth lifted.

“Wound up a little tight today, are we?” he asked and had the audacity to smile as his tongue slowly lapped more ice cream.

Her lips curled in disdain once more as he smirked his way through another lick and Iris closed her eyes with a deep sigh. “What the hell do you want, Eris?”

“Are you not enjoying our date?”

Iris’s eyes shot open and both brows went up. “Date?”

“Yes.”

“You think this is a date?” she asked flatly.

“You think this isn’t?”

“When the hell did you ask me out on a date?” she asked with an incredulous laugh. “When did you dream that I said yes?”

Eris had the nerve to chuckle once more. “I asked you out to share some ice cream. On Valentine’s Day. Here we are. Date.”

Iris squinted then her gaze flickered around the shop and it hit her how blind she’d been; it was decorated with red and pink hearts everywhere. She’d been so annoyed when she walked in to meet him that Iris hadn’t even noticed. How the hell had she missed that it was Valentine’s Day? 

True, she hadn’t really celebrated it in years. But it wasn’t her fault that most of the men she’d tried dating sucked. 

Besides, it was the day after Valentine’s Day that was worth celebrating. All her favorite chocolates were on sale. 

Finally rolling her eyes at his smirk, she said, “Every time I think you’ve reached your limit of audacity, you surprise me by outrageously exceeding it.”

He smiled once more then took a deliberately slow lick of his ice cream. “I like to keep you on your toes. I think you rather enjoy it.”

“I don’t enjoy anything about you.” she snapped, stabbing at what was left of her ice cream. “I don’t even like you.” 

He snorted. “Sure. You definitely want to fuck me though. I bet you’ll like me a lot more then.” he said smoothly. 

Iris’s brows shot up and she let out a huff of laughter in disbelief, her grip tightening around her spoon. “You are one cocky motherfucker. Especially when this is your idea of a Valentine’s Day date,” she huffed. “A date I definitely did not agree to.”

“Don’t worry, I absolutely want to fuck you too,” he said, raising his ice cream to toast her. “In fact, I insist.”

Iris willed her face not to flush, for her body not to betray her by reacting to his words. In the midst of all their unfortunate meets and bickering, had she thought about what it would be like to fuck him? Sure. Would she ever admit it? Definitely not.  

“You’re unbelievable,” she said with a shake of her head. “How has no one in this town choked the life out of you yet?”

“It’s because I’m pretty.” he said with a smirk. “And very, very rich.”

“And so humble.”

“Exactly,” he said with a wink then straightened. “In all seriousness, when are we going to make this official between us?”

Iris rolled her eyes. “What, exactly, is there to make official?”

“You and me, little gazelle,” Eris replied with a knowing look. “Let’s not pretend this dance is anything but foreplay. Say yes and I’ll show you exactly the kind of dates I take a woman on.”

“Ah yes, the recycled list of dates you’ve used on all the women you go through?” she said with a snort. “Pass.”

“The kind of dates I only plan for one type of woman,” he said and the corner of his mouth ticked up in a way that made her toes curl. “And I’ve only ever met one of you.”

Iris watched him in silence, taking a moment to think of an appropriate response. He really was unbelievable. Obnoxious. Uppity. An ass most of the time. But…she had to admit, there was something that drew them to each other. Like an invisible string dragging them down the same path. 

She’d resisted at every corner. And yet…gym? Eris had been there. Cafe? He had been there. The park while on her morning walks? He’d somehow been there. If it weren’t for the look of genuine surprise on his face every time, she’d think he’d been stalking her. 

But then they also ended up at the same social events. Town meetings. Fundraisers. Parties. They’d had a…moment at the last gathering that replayed in Iris’s mind for longer than she would’ve liked. She’d deny it to her last breath but Lucien and Elain had witnessed it and though Iris loved having them as friends, she knew they were way too excited about whatever this was between her and Eris to let it go.

Iris placed her spoon in her ice cream cup and then leaned back in her chair, watching him curiously. 

“Eris.”

“Yes?” 

“What do you want from me?”

He gave her a small smile she hadn’t seen on his face before, one that softened his features and it made her instantly look away. “I simply want us to spend time together.” 

“Why?”

Eris shrugged. “You feel it. You know why,” he said. “I want to see where it goes.”

Irid did feel it. As much as she would’ve liked to deny the chemistry between them, it was hard to pretend nothing was there when seeing him automatically made her pulse start racing. She hated it. But she also wanted to see where it would go.

She pursed her lips and waited a heartbeat before answering, “Fine. On two conditions.”

He took another obscene lick of his ice cream and waved a hand for her to continue. She tried not to squirm.

“One, physical contact will be limited to what I am comfortable with and sex is completely off the table.” Iris said firmly. “My body isn’t a prize you earn. We will simply see if we have a good time.”

“Agreed,” he said graciously. “My body, however, is absolutely available should you feel the need to explore it. I will humbly oblige.”

Iris rolled her eyes for what felt like the millionth time. “I’m not interested in going on dates with an egotistical ass who just wants to show off his money.” she said with a pointed look. “Don’t waste my time if you aren’t actually serious about this.”

“I am very serious.” he said and frowned. “You think I enjoy feeling this way about anyone?”

Iris felt her heart flutter at the look he gave her. If she wasn’t mistaken, his ears had gotten a little red. “And what way is that?”

Eris took a bite from his cone and squinted at her for a moment before answering. “When we’re on our date, I’ll tell you.”

She hummed her agreement and tried not to fidget in her seat at the movement of his mouth. “Either way. If you’re trying to impress me just so I don’t pour more drinks over your head, know that I don’t want flashy, I want real.” she said firmly. “You need to earn my trust.” 

Eris watched her silently for a heartbeat then the corner of his mouth ticked up. “Okay.”

“And we tell no one.”

“Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Of course.” she said with a snort and Eris had the nerve to laugh softly. “Besides, I like privacy. People in this town are always in each other’s business. I know way too much about people’s bedroom habits.”

“Nesta and Cassian?” he asked with a snicker.

“Yes. Holy shit, do they have stamina.” Iris muttered, causing Eris to grin.

“They aren’t the only ones with stamina like that.” he said, nearly purring and Iris shot him a murderous look.

“Don’t.”

He held up a hand in mock surrender. “And your second condition?” he said then took another lick of his ice cream.

And this time Iris had finally had enough. She leaned over and yanked his cone from his hands, dropping it into her bowl. “You aren’t allowed to eat ice cream in front of me ever again.” 

Eris blinked then burst out laughing. “Why?” he said incredulously. “I thought the choice of strawberry ice cream suited our date theme.”

“We’re not on a date,” she said flatly. “And the way you eat ice cream is obscene and you should be fined for public indecency.”

Iris watched him laugh again and hated how it made her pulse race faster. Eris lit up when he laughed. It made him more youthful, and at ease, versus his usual expression that made a person want to punch him in the face.

“Ah.” he finally said with a smirk that Iris didn’t trust one bit. “I see you caught on to my tactic.”

Iris narrowed her eyes, willing herself not to flush. “And what tactic is that?” she asked, already regretting the question as his expression.

“I wanted to make sure you knew that ice cream wasn’t the only thing I could eat obscenely,” Eris said, his voice dropping low and Iris felt her body heating. “I hope my display was to your liking.”

This motherfucker. Iris took a breath and closed her eyes, slowly counting to ten before opening her eyes again to find Eris still smirking obnoxiously at her from across the table. Had she been paying extra attention to the way he ate his stupid ice cream? Yes. Would she ever admit it? No. 

Jerking her chin towards her bowl of ruined dessert. “Do you want me to dump it on your head or do you want to do it yourself?”

“I’d rather you watched me eat it again.” 

“I’d rather you choked.”

Eris chuckled and the sound made goosebumps erupt on her flesh as he stood. She watched him wipe his hands with a napkin on the table and then adjust his dress shirt, his eyes never leaving her face. Tossing the napkin into her melting bowl of dessert, Eris placed a hand on the back of her chair, his other balanced on the table, and leaned in close. 

“I’d be more inclined to believe you if you weren’t devouring me with your eyes, sweetheart.” he whispered and Iris scowled with a flush. Eris paused for a breath as she turned her head to look at him and the two watched each other silently, the world suddenly silent around them.

She wondered if his heart was beating as wildly as hers. If he could see her pulse racing.

Almost as if in a trance, Eris couldn’t help but lean in to gently kiss her cheek, before meeting her gaze again. “I had fun on our date.” he murmured.

“Not a date.” she whispered but Eris only hummed.

“Agree to disagree,” he said with a slight smile. “I knew you’d be my Valentine the moment you poured that drink on me months ago.”

Her face heated. She would not think about what that meant. “I doubt you expected your Valentine to want to choke you out.”

“Oh, I absolutely would want my valentine to choke me out. You can choke me all you want on our next date.” Eris said and finally pulled back with a wink, sliding a small gift bag she hadn’t even noticed across the table to her. “This was bought prior to your conditions so our agreement still stands.”

Iris blinked and gazed up at him. “You…bought me a gift?”

“Of course. I’m not one to show up to a date empty-handed.” Eris said with a pointed look.

“It’s not a date.” she repeated but knew, this time, her refusal sounded weak enough that Eris chuckled.

“You look adorable when you’re in denial.” he cooed and couldn’t help his grin as Iris scowled up at him, running a finger down her cheek before stepping back. “I’ll pick you up at 6, Friday evening. Wear something that’ll rip my poor heart out, little valentine.” 

Iris sat in the silence that followed his smug exit, stunned at the turn of events and how fast her heart was beating. She wasn’t sure what exactly she had agreed to with Eris but felt dazed. Excited. Turned on. Slightly annoyed.

Most importantly, she needed to go shopping. 

Iris would not think about the kiss on her cheek. Or about his promises. She certainly would not think about his tongue and what that stupid mouth of his could do. 

She would only think about finding a dress that would give him the bluest of balls possible. 

Her eyes fell on the gift bag again and Iris slowly pulled it closer to peek in. A note sat atop the tissue paper, hiding whatever it was that he’d gotten her. Biting the inside of her cheek, Iris pulled out the note, trying not to think about her mixed emotions having Eris of all people getting her a Valentine’s Day gift. She opened it and read,

Happy Valentine’s Day, little gazelle. Use it and think of me. Know I could do it better.

But here’s my number so you can tell me all about how you like it. 

Iris flushed deeply and immediately eyed the bag again. “Oh god.” she whispered. Those words could mean anything but knowing Eris – knowing the way he thinks…He wouldn’t. Would he?

She could practically see his stupid face and stupid smirk in front of her and with a scowl, Iris reached for the bag again, slowly removing the gift tissue to peek beneath it at the gift. A small groan slipped from her mouth and she immediately covered it again. 

Of course, he would. 

Of course, Eris Vanserra would think a vibrator would be an appropriate gift for someone he had barely been on a date with. An expensive one at that. 

He was outrageous. Outrageous. She didn’t know whether to be flattered or freaked out that he was thinking about her pleasure. How many guys thought about a gift like this? How many guys were this fucken bold? 

Then again, every interaction with this man only proved him persistent. 

“I knew you’d be my Valentine the moment you poured that drink on me months ago.”

The words replayed in her mind and Iris pursed her lips, glancing down at the bag once more, amusement seeping through the disbelief. Eris hadn’t hesitated from the moment he met her and Iris had to admit, though his methods weren’t great — it, unfortunately, made him come off as very attractive. 

Groaning quietly to herself, Iris shoved the note back into the bag and then sighed, knowing whatever resistance she had been building against him would disappear as soon as she tested out this gift of his. The asshole knew exactly what he was doing. 

And Iris had to give credit where credit was due — she always did like a man with a plan.

[sirenpearldust]

Broken Doll - Chapter one

series masterlist ⋆ Chapter two

Pair: Azriel x reader, Eris x reader

Word count: 7.074

Warnings: violence, jealous boys, possessive characters, reader is not nice, Elain slander

The music muffled the chatter of your classmates, but your focus was elsewhere. It was already 7:20.

You bit your nails nervously, waiting for him. He still hadn’t read your message, and he couldn’t afford to be late, not on the first day of school. 

You had math in the first period, the worst subject. Why did it have to be math on the first day of school?

You rubbed your temples, barely able to drown out the sound of your class monitor - Irina scolding Cass and Rhys, cutting through your earphones. Every year, it was the same, and every year, you wondered the same thing, how could they have so much energy, this early?

Turning away from the window, a familiar figure caught your attention.

“Why are you moping?” Eris asked, leaning in close with that familiar, cocky grin.

His freckles had darkened over the summer, standing out against his sun-kissed skin. His amber eyes studied you intently as you slowly pulled out your earphone. He smelled of cologne and an incoming headache.

“I thought gingers could only turn red. Whose skin did you steal?” you quipped.

Eris’s smile stretched into a wide grin before he reached over and ruffled your hair.

You smacked his hand away, hissing, “Fuck off!”

“You’re just a ray of sunshine in the morning,” he teased, clearly unfazed by your temper.

“I’m happier when I don’t see you,” you shot back, scowling as you tried to fix your hair. It had taken you an hour to have it the way you wanted and now this Gingerfuck had to ruin all your good work.

“Here, let me help,” he offered, leaning in with that smug grin still plastered on his face. 

Evil fucker you seethed internally. 

“No,” you said firmly, grabbing his wrist before he could try anything. You locked eyes with him, raising an eyebrow as if to say, I know exactly what you’re planning, and it’s not happening.

Eris rolled his eyes dramatically and let his hand fall.

Instead of leaving, he slid into Azriel’s seat beside you, his gaze fixed on you. His usual teasing expression softened as he watched you fussing with your hair. For a moment, a small smile played on his lips.

Before you could react, his hand reached out. 

Why did he have to annoy you so much? He knows Azriel doesn’t like it when he touches you.

You turned sharply toward him, ready to snap, but he simply tucked one stray strand of hair back into place.

“Thanks,” you murmured, still scowling. Fucker ruins it first and now helps.

Eris had missed you over the break, more than he wanted to admit to himself. 

For a few seconds, you both stayed like that, looking at each other. Time seemed to stretch as you got lost in his gaze, forgetting everything else around you. 

It was crazy how you had known each other since you were born. You went to the same elementary school, middle school, and now high school.  But there was still a small possibility he would be accepted into a different Ivy League than you. The thought of seeing Eris for another couple of years was starting to make you feel nauseous.

“Please don’t follow me to college,” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your intrusive thoughts had been louder than usual, and now you regretted speaking them aloud. You immediately looked at him, hoping he wouldn’t be mad.

“You do know that you’re the stalker who follows me around, right?” Eris said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“You were born after me, remember?” Eris teased, his smirk widening. 

“You cried until I was in the same class as you, and then you didn’t let me have other friends. You always wanted me to be your only friend.”

You felt your face heat up, your old childhood habits suddenly being revealed. 

“Eris, I was a kid, stop bringing that up.”

Eris leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, his voice low.  “Oh, but you were so sweet back then. Always clinging to me like I was the only person in the world you trusted. And now, look at you. Still can’t get enough of me, huh? What would your boyfriend think, his enemy being stalked by his girlfriend?”

But before you could deny it, the door opened, and Azriel stepped in. He was accompanied by a girl who came up to his shoulders. Her brown hair fell to her shoulders, and her big, doll-like brown eyes were fixed on Azriel as he spoke to her. When he finally looked up and saw you, a smile spread across his face.

Your boyfriend looked absolutely handsome, mouthwatering, honestly, it should have been illegal for him to walk around looking like this in the uniform. His black hair fell messily over his forehead, still damp from the shower he’d just taken. The dark blue uniform pants hugged his thighs perfectly, emphasizing every inch of his toned frame. You couldn’t help but stare, your thoughts drifting somewhere they shouldn’t before you caught yourself.

Eris was still watching you, and he could tell from the happy expression on your face, the one you didn’t often show around him, that Azriel had arrived. 

Azriels eyes quickly shifted to the seat Eris was in, his seat. His smile faded slowly, his jaw tightening as his eyes narrowed.

Forgetting the girl, Azriel quickly walked toward you, an annoyed expression on his face. 

Eris stood up, slowly turning toward Azriel.

You sighed, watching the familiar tension build. They were always at each other’s throats, never able to let anything slide.

“Hi, babe,” you said, walking past Eris before leaning in to kiss Azriel on the cheek. His warmth engulfed you, he smelled of leather and cedar. He kissed the crown of your head before glaring at Eris again.

 Children

Azriel had arrived just before the bell rang, but now you feared both of them were on the verge of beating each other again. You did not need a repeat of last year.

Leaning forward, you were about to intervene.

Irina suddenly stepped between them, clapping her hands loudly.

“Try fighting again, and I might kill you both. Don’t test me,” she warned, cutting off any chance of Eris’s snarky remarks. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she glared at Cassian and Rhys, who were still making noises in the front, oblivious to the tension in the back.

 “Sit down, both of you! I don’t want to explain again how you two monkeys got into a fight!”

Both of them listened to her, knowing any backtalk would ensure that their coach would find out and that they would bench out on some games.

Irina walked toward the new girl, greeting her.

Eris nodded, moving toward his seat right behind you. You sighed in relief as Azriel slung his shoulder bag next to the table and plopped down into his seat, still a little annoyed that he had to see Eris first thing in the morning.

Eris, never one to shut up, added, “Also, we’re coming over today.”

You turned in your seat, confused. “What?”

“Yeah, my parents want to have dinner with yours because of the deal they’ve sealed,” he explained casually.

“Oh, great,” you muttered, though you couldn’t hide the surprise.

“You should look happier to see me again. There are girls who’d kill for this chance,” Eris teased, grinning at you.

Azriel coughed, loudly. 

Eris ignored him completely, still smiling at you. You shook your head, silently telling him not to add anything else to the conversation.

A few seconds later the new girl walked up to Eris, her big eyes on him as she asked, “Is this seat taken?”

“Yes,” Eris replied without looking up from his phone, ignoring her completely.

 Liar

Your face must have betrayed you, giving away your disbelief at his blatant lie. 

She turned bright red, embarrassed by his obvious lie and glanced at Azriel. 

You gave her a soft smile and pointed toward the front.

“There is a seat free next to the guy with the black hair. His name’s Calix.”

She thanked you quietly, then quickly glanced at Azriel again before heading toward the front.

The bell rang, and just as everyone settled into their seats, your Math teacher walked in, signaling the start of the lesson.

• •

“Azriel, you need to explain this to me, I don’t understand it,” you whined, frustrated as you stared at the page of notes in front of you. Math was the one subject you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, no matter how hard you tried. Luckily, Azriel and sometimes even Eris stepped in to help.

“Sure,” he replied casually, packing the heavy books into his bag. After the last person left the room and it was just the two of you now. He slung his bag over his shoulder, he leaned in closer, kissing your forehead. You were thankful he was this affectionate, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

 “You’ve got a little something right here,” he said with a grin. 

You blushed deeply, the intensity in his hazel eyes made your heart race. His thumb lightly brushed your upper lip, and your eyes fluttered shut, your breath catching as the moment seemed to linger in the air.

He gently cupped your face, his breath catching as he leaned in, his lips softly pressing against yours. He kissed you slowly and softly, his touch slow and tender.

The initial sweetness of the kiss deepened as you tilted your chin, a silent plea for more. 

You gasped as you both couldn’t ignore the hunger and need. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling your body into his. The world outside disappeared, it was only you two.

Your hand rested on his chest, slowly trailing upward until it tangled in his hair. When you gave it a gentle tug, he groaned, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and against your body. You clung to him, breathing him in, the familiar scent of leather and cedar stirring something warm inside you.

It was hard to believe there had been a time when this was just a distant dream, and now here you were, kissing him for real. 

Before you two could go any further, Irina interrupted, slamming the door open and standing in the doorway. 

“You two!” she shouted, making you and Azriel jump apart. 

“No fucking in here,” she added, her Finger pointing accusingly at both of you. 

Azriel and you blushed, quickly moving apart. Trying to explain yourselves you both stuttered.

She waved her hand dismissing your explanation, she looked unsurprised at catching the two of you making out, but there was stress written all over her face. Her ash brown hair was tied messy, and her uniform was disheveled, like she had just been in a rush. It was as if she had run straight here.

“Now get out. I need to lock the room,” Irina ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You both scrambled to gather your things and quickly walked out, hoping she wouldn’t lock you in if you took to long, something she definitely would do if given the chance. 

You and Azriel couldn’t meet her eyes, shame written all over your faces.

“Wait a minute,” she said sharply before either of you could make a break for it. 

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightened, his whole body tense, bracing himself for yet another scolding.

She took a deep breath as she adjusted her disheveled uniform and smoothed her hair as she spoke.

“Coach wants to see you, something about the games and your scholarship.”

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly. “Did he look angry?” he asked cautiously.

“No, he looked happy as a clam.”

Azriel exhaled in relief, his shoulders relaxing.

“Also, Y/N,” she added, turning to you, “Miss Norton wants to see you about the upcoming art exhibition. Congratulations your art was accepted. You are the last person that had been added”

Azriel smiled brightly, pulling you into a hug. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride. “I told you there was nothing to worry about. Your art is too great to not be exhibited ”

You felt your cheeks warm, blushing slightly at his words.

He leaned in to kiss you, and you returned it softly, but then gently pushed him away as your eyes darted to Irina. “Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a bit awkward under her blank, unreadable stare.

“No worries,” Irina said a slight corner of her lips quirked up.

 “I’m glad you got in. Miss Norton and Calix spoke highly of your art.”

You blinked, surprised, warmth spreading through you. That was probably the nicest thing she had ever said to you.

“I better go before I get another scolding,” he said, quickly kissing you on the cheek.

Irina looked at you and you waved before walking toward the art room, the path opposite from Azriel.

• •

Standing at the same spot, Irina took a deep breath before calling out, “Eris, come out. I know you’re there.”

Eris stepped out from behind the pillar he had been hiding behind, his face slightly flushed.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he mumbled, meeting her sharp gaze, with his own.

“You mean stalking the girl you have a crush on and watching her kiss her boyfriend, who happens to be your arch nemesis?” she shot back, crossing her arms.

“Who said I have a crush on her?” he retorted quickly. “She’s-”

Irina cut him off, her tone firm. “ I see the way you look at her. Both of them. And I see how you watch Azriel too.” Her eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped into a warning. “Just a heads-up if you have another conflict with Azriel, Coach is going to kick you off the team. You’ve been causing him way too much trouble, and so has Azriel. Don’t make things worse.”

Eris looked away, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t argue. Irina gave him one last pointed glance before turning and walking off, leaving him standing there in silence.

Eris wasn’t a pervert he had been there because he needed to know, needed to test the theory if he really had feelings for you. He’d read more than once that jealousy was the clearest sign of feelings like the ones he thought he might have. And he did get jealous, it was the only time he would admit to himself that he was envious of Azriel.

He was jealous of the way you looked at Azriel, the way your eyes softened for him in a way they never did for anyone else. He was jealous of the way you kissed him, how you would let him touch you and the way you naturally leaned into his body like he was the only pillar you could lean on.

But what haunted him most were the sounds you made, soft, breathless, completely yours and the maddening thought of what sounds you’d make for him.

Would they be the same?

Or would they be even sweeter?

The questions twisted inside him, they burned like a fire he wasn’t sure he wanted to put out.

He was plagued by dreams of you for a few moths now, dreams so vivid they felt like memories of a life he could never have. He dreamed of you as his wife, your laughter filling the air as you leaned in to kiss him, your touch soft and familiar. He dreamed of a child, a daughter with your eyes and your smile, who looked up at him with unconditional love, something he had yet to experience.

He didn’t know where this was coming from. Sure, he’d always been attracted to you, your confidence, your wit, the way you carried yourself, but this?

This was something entirely different. It wasn’t just attraction anymore, he could say it was an obsession. You had rooted yourself in his mind and no matter how hard he tried to push the thoughts away, they kept returning, stronger than before.

• •

You walked in silence, feeling a bit nervous as you approached the art room. The closer you got, the worse the feeling in your belly became. It twisted and churned, a mix of unease and anticipation that you couldn’t shake. Something was wrong, you could feel it, even if you couldn’t explain why. 

Before you could open the door it swung open, you were greeted by a wild-eyed Calix, who stood in front of you, his black eyes so dark and angry.

“Good, you’re here,” he said quickly, his voice tense. You were confused. 

What is happening?

Stepping in, you watched as Miss Norton smiled warmly at the new girl, laughing loudly at something she had said. She absentmindedly rubbed the new girls shoulder. When she noticed the two of you standing there, her eyes quickly shifted to you.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” she said, adjusting her glasses.

“I’ve got some great news for the exhibition, but let me first introduce my guest,” Miss Norton began, her excitement evident, ignoring the angry look from Calix. 

She gestured to the girl beside her.

“This is Elain Archeron.”

The girl gave a shy smile, her big brown eyes never leaving yours. 

She blushed deeply as Miss Norton continued, “Before Elain switched schools her artwork was kind of famous I would like to display it at the upcoming exhibition.”

“Miss Norton this is impossible!” Calix interrupted, his voice sharp. He clearly wasn’t amused or excited about the news. Your expression was a mix of confusion and frustration, as you glanced between Elain and Miss Norton. 

You were equally shocked. Everything had been organized over the summer, and if you were accepted, everyone already had their spot. 

Miss Norton then turned to you, saying, “YN, you’ll need to share your corner with Elain , as you have submitted your art last.”

Calix spoke up, his tone firm. “I’m sorry, Miss Norton, but Elain’s art is way more different than the pieces that are meant to be presented for the exhibition.”

You felt your cheeks heat with anger.

How could she do that? You had worked hard on your own art, and now you had to share your spot with someone who wasn’t even part of the original selection. 

Miss Norton turned red, clearly flustered by the unexpected critique.

“We can make an exception this time, it would be a good idea to introduce her like this to the school,” she suggested, trying to smooth things over.

Calix chuckled frustrated, shaking his head, before fixing Miss Norton with a sharp, unwavering gaze.

The room fell into silence Calixs’s anger was evident to everyone by the way he huffed and puffed, he usually was quiet and kind, never one easily to anger. 

“I don’t see why you are so angry Calix I decide who is to display their art and I don’t think y/n minds sharing her spot. Right y/n? “ 

You couldn’t help but stare at her. Was she even right in the head?

How bold of Elain to take over your half of the space without a second thought and how could she speak to Calix like that?

He was the one who had to organize, book, print, and handle so much more work, work that she conveniently left for him while she lounged around like it wasn’t her responsibility. The audacity left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Calix answered for you. “She’s not okay. Nobody would be if things were changed last minute. Miss Norton, there are other exhibitions she can be a part of.”

“Calix, my word is final,” Norton said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Nothing is going to change my opinion.”

You caught the subtle quirk of Elain’s lips, a self-satisfied smirk that made your stomach twist. You had thought she’d just been dragged into this mess. But now it seemed she was far more of a bitch than you’d initially believed. That smug look on her face, the way she seemed to revel in the chaos, it was clear she wasn’t as harmless as you’d assumed.

“And now you two leave,” Norton continued, her sharp gaze cutting through you both. “I didn’t call you here to hear your opinions.”

Without another word, you followed Calix out, swallowing down your frustration. 

As soon as the door closed behind you, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“You saw her smirk too, right?” Calix asked, his voice low with irritation.

You nodded, still fuming. “Is her art really that good?” you asked, needing to know if there was any justification for the favoritism.

“It’s good,” he admitted, but then added quickly, “but I still think yours is a way better fit, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He said taking out a cigarette to smoke.

His words soothed you a little, but the tension in your chest didn’t entirely fade. Elain’s smug expression was burned into your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the end of it.

• •

You cried a little in the bathroom, the frustration of it all finally catching up to you. How could this even happen? It felt so unfair.

Once you stopped crying, you stepped out of the stall, dried your mascara-streaked cheeks, and carefully fixed your makeup. The process was almost therapeutic, and by the time you were done, you felt a little better, lighter, even. Your eyes were still slightly red, but a few drops of eyedrops worked their magic.

Grabbing your bag, you packed up your things and made your way to French class, feeling a bit more composed, ready to face the day again.

You were eager to tell Azriel and your friends what had just happened.

As you opened the door, the sound of laughter spilled out. Mor, Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel were gathered inside, chatting with her, Elain.

You stopped in your tracks as soon as you saw her, Elain, sitting in your seat next to Azriel, her fingers lightly brushing against his arm while laughing. 

What the hell was she doing there? It was supposed to be your spot, your place next to him, and now she was acting like it was all hers.

“Hi,” you greeted the others, deliberately ignoring Elain as you placed your bag on the table in front of her, where her things were already spread out. Morrigan’s eyes met yours instantly, and without saying a word, you both understood-later. She could tell something was off.

Azriel, oblivious to the tension, immediately grabbed you into his lap, kissing you softly before nuzzling into your neck. His hand rested gently on your waist, pulling you even closer, as if he felt your need for his warmth and to ease any unease.

“ Now I miss Emory,” Morrigan said with a wistful smile, her voice light but her gaze still focused on you.

“If you haven’t met her, this is Elain,” Azriel said, gesturing toward the bitch with a small smile. “She’s new and the reason I was late this morning.”

You shot Elain a sharp smile. “We already met,” you said, your voice cool and laced with tension.

Elain met your glare with one of her own, not backing down. The two of you locked eyes, a silent battle brewing between you, neither willing to yield.

Cassian and Rhys sat next to each other, completely dumbfounded. They exchanged confused glances, clearly caught off guard by the strange atmosphere between you and Elain. They were unsure of what had happened to cause such an icy atmosphere.

Morrigan, sensing the tension and eager to defuse it, chuckled and said, “I don’t think Cassian told you about his crush, guys.”

Cassian’s face immediately turned red, his eyes widening as he shot Morrigan a look of disbelief. You and Rhys burst out laughing, while Azriel raised an eyebrow in amusement, completely oblivious to the situation that had just unfolded.

“Oh, here we go,” Rhys said between laughs, nudging Cassian. “This ought to be good.”

Cassian groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You better not say a word, Morrigan.”

But Morrigan only grinned, clearly enjoying every second of his discomfort. “Oh, I’m not saying a thing. But maybe someone should tell us who this mysterious crush is?” She shot a teasing look at Cassian.

Cassian leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. “Well, I have someone in mind.”

“Who’s the poor woman?” you teased, the others chuckling along.

Cassian smirked but didn’t answer. “Not gonna tell you. You’ll just see me kiss her, and then you’ll know.”

“It’s probably Irina,” Azriel said with a smirk, glancing at Cassian.

“That’s why you keep annoying her,” you added, high-fiving Azriel as you shot Cassian a teasing grin.

Cassian’s face turned a deeper shade of red, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“You two are the worst,” he muttered, but the laughter from the group only made it worse.

Morrigan grinned,  “You could just ask her on a date instead of annoying her. We’re 18, Cass, not 6.”

Rhys smirked and added, “Guys, he’s already planned their future together.”

Cassian’s face turning an even deeper shade of red as he threw his hands up in frustration.

“I’m not planning anything!” he protested.

Azriel chuckled, watching his friend squirm. “Maybe it’s time you stop talking about it and actually do something about it, Cass. It worked when I did. ”

You kissed his cheek.

Cassian sighed dramatically, slouching in his chair. “You guys are the worst.”

Elain smiled at Cassian, her voice saccharine. “She probably will like you. You’re so nice and funny, who wouldn’t like you?”

Cassian awkwardly muttered, “Thanks,” clearly flustered by the attention.

Morrigan and you exchanged a look. Rhys caught it too, his smirk widening as he picked up on the tension, he enjoyed the drama. You glanced at your watch, realizing you only had two minutes before your next lesson.

“Elain,” you said, your voice calm but firm, “Could you sit somewhere else? I’d like to sit next to my boyfriend.”

You knew she couldn’t refuse without drawing attention. With a quiet sigh, Elain gathered her things and wandered aimlessly, asking people around the room if she could sit next to them. You watched as Elain’s face turned red, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she awkwardly searched for a place to sit. 

She looked flustered, rejected by the group she had so confidently tried to insert herself into. It felt satisfying, seeing her brought down a notch. She deserved it after everything, the smug looks, the attitude, the way she’d tried to claim space that wasn’t hers and the way she dared to touch your Boyfriend.

She finally plopped down next to Irina, who shot a quick, knowing look at Calix. It seemed she was told about what had happened.

You settled down next to Azriel, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you.

He was blissfully unaware of the silent victory unfolding in your head. You couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at your lips, one that Morrigan mirrored.

But you knew a snake like her would strike again.

• •

School finally ended, you and your group strolled out of the school together, the sun still high in the sky. You were lingering by the gates, waiting for Azriel to finish his advanced chemistry class so you could drive home.

As you leaned against the railing, you told your friends what had happened.

“Damn,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “Seems like you’ve got an enemy.”

“And you’re sure you didn’t know her before?” he added, raising an eyebrow.

“No, Rhys, I didn’t,” you replied with a sigh.

“She’s a bitch,” Morrigan declared flatly, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.

“Mmh,” Cassian muttered absentmindedly, his attention focused elsewhere. He was turned slightly away from the group, scanning the area, searching.

“You searching for Irina?” Morrigan teased.

Cass ignored her and frowned instead. “Since when are Eris and Irina friends?”

“Huh?” you all turned toward the gate at his words.

There she was, Irina, walking and talking with Eris. The two seemed friendly with eachother, their laughter carried by the breeze. Irina playfully shoved him and Eris, for once, didn’t look annoyed. Instead, he spoke with animated gestures, his face lit up in a way you rarely saw.

It was so different from the usual guarded, cold demeanor he wore like armor. Both of them were at ease, carefree, and it stirred something unfamiliar in your chest. A tug, faint but undeniable, made your stomach twist slightly.

You couldn’t look away, even as you told yourself it didn’t matter. It wasn’t your concern. And yet, the sight of them laughing together lingered in the back of your mind.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the strange feeling. Why did seeing him like that with her bother you so much?

“Babe,” Azriel called, breaking through your thoughts.

“Huh?” you blinked, realizing he’d been trying to get your attention.

“I called you multiple times. Let’s go,” he said, his voice clipped as he grabbed your hand, leading you toward the car.

• •

After dropping off the others one by one, the car grew quiet, almost uncomfortably so. It was just you and Azriel now.

He hadn’t spoken much the entire ride, only offering polite nods or brief words as he said goodbye to your friends. 

You stared out the window at the passing scenery, but your mind wandered back to the earlier scene with Eris and Irina. Something about it still lingered in your chest.

Azriel’s silence, however, soon pulled your attention. You turned to look at him, taking in his features, the sharp angle of his nose, the perfect bow of his lips, the long dark lashes that framed his striking hazel eyes, and the dark curls that fell messily over his forehead. He was gorgeous, as always, but it wasn’t his looks that drew your focus.

His posture was tense, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel, and his jaw ticked with barely restrained frustration.

He was angry.

“Az?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, his lips pressing into a firm line as if he was weighing his words. The tension in the air was thick, and it made your heart race in uncertainty.

“Nothing,” Azriel muttered.

“Please, did something happen?” you pressed, your voice soft but insistent.

He shook his head, his jaw tightening as he pulled the car over to the side of the road. Turning to face you, his hazel eyes burned with emotion. “Why did you stare at Eris like that?”

You froze for a moment. He noticed. Shit.

“Because of Irina,” you explained quickly. “He was talking to Irina, and Cassian asked if they were friends. That’s why.”

Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. He was clearly thinking it over. You reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“Azriel, I only love you. You know that, right?”

He sighed, but the tension in his shoulders didn’t ease. “I just don’t like the way you two are so close. It’s hard to ignore.”

You shook your head, your voice firm yet reassuring. “Azriel, I wish I could avoid talking to him altogether, but our parents are close. His mom has even slept over at our house before, our dads golf together and our Brothers are in the same clubs. I don’t like it either, how he talks about you, or our relationship. He’s arrogant, obnoxious, and so damn annoying.” You paused, your lips quirking up into a small smirk.

“I only love you. You don’t have to worry about the ginger.”

Azriel let out a laugh at that, a genuine sound that made your chest warm. You watched the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he chuckled, and your breath caught. He was stunning when he laughed, his worry fading away. 

He noticed you staring, his lips curving into a shy smile. “What?”

“Can I kiss you?” you asked, your voice soft.

Azriel nodded, his cheeks slightly pink. 

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, and the kiss deepened quickly. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

It grew hotter, more intense, as his free hand gripped your waist, and your fingers tangled in his hair.

You pulled away from the kiss, and Azriel let out a low whine. It wasn’t a sound you heard often, and it sent a shiver through you. His hand bunched the fabric of your white shirt, pulling you closer as he tried to capture your lips again. Both of you were breathless, his lips glistening with spit, and his eyes locked onto your mouth.

“Azriel, wait,” you managed, gently pushing him back.

He ignored your words, instead dipping down to press kisses along your neck. You gasped softly but pushed his hard chest.

“No hickeys, Az. I have to see my parents later.”

He groaned in protest, biting down lightly but just hard enough to make you gasp again. “Azriel,” you warned, your tone sharper now.

Suddenly, a thought struck you. “Azriel, is your mom home?”

He stilled, lifting his head to look at you. “No,” he said slowly, his brow furrowing. “Why?”

“When will she be back?” you asked, brushing your fingers gently through his hair.

“About six,” he replied, still confused. “Why?”

“Think, baby,” you said, caressing his scalp, your voice teasing but patient.

It took a moment, but realization dawned on him. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”

You nodded with a playful smirk. “Yes, Azriel. We can go to yours for a few hours.”

His lips twitched into a grin, and he leaned in to kiss your cheek as you laughed. 

He drove, his excitement now focused on getting home before the clock ran out.

• •

You were late. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

How could you forget?

Your mom had called you multiple times, you knew you were in trouble. Thankfully, your sister had covered for you, telling your parents you were at the library.

Slipping into the house as quietly as possible through the back door, you silently crept upstairs.

From the hallway, you could hear your father and Eris’s father laughing loudly downstairs.

Your heart raced as you tiptoed toward your room, opening the door slowly and shutting it behind you with a soft click.

You turned around and nearly screamed.

There, sitting at your desk, was Eris. His long legs, in black pants, stretched out comfortably as he leaned back in your chair, a painting of yours held delicately in his hands.

His golden-red hair caught the faint light from the desk lamp, but his amber eyes were focused on the artwork.

“Eris, what the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, your voice low to avoid drawing attention. Fucking psycho! How did he get in? Why was he even here?

He didn’t respond right away. He held one of your more personal pieces, a ballerina staring at her  reflection in a broken mirror. Her red, tear-filled eyes glared back at herself, mascara and tears streaking down her face. Bound in her hair were white feathers. Immense rage in her expression. It was a piece that helped you remember your pain and how far you’d push yourself to reach perfection.

“It’s beautiful,” Eris whispered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard.

Your heart hammered in your chest, faster than before. “Put it down,” you said, though your tone lacked conviction.

“Is it you?” he asked, finally looking up at you.

“Yes,” you admitted hesitantly.

Eris turned the painting back to study it for a moment before meeting your gaze again. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable, something you didn’t expect.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice so soft it almost didn’t register. 

For a moment, you forgot to breathe. The words were simple, but the way he said them, the sincerity in his tone, made your chest tighten.

No one had ever said that to you before, not about your art. Azriel hyped you up sometimes, but mostly saw it like your parents, a silly hobby you could enjoy to keep you entertained. Even Miss Norton had pushed you away for Elain and saw it less then hers. 

But art was more than that, it was a lifeline for you, it was like a diary where you expressed your emotions.

You never showed anyone your personal pieces, not even Azriel. This painting, raw and emotional, was yours alone - until now.

Licking your dry lips, you asked, “How did you get in here?”

Getting up, his hands casually shoved into his pockets, Eris began to walk toward you. One hand slid out to push his hair back before ruffling it slightly. He chuckled softly under his breath, a sound low enough to unnerve you.

It was the quick shift in his demeanour, the way he was always unpredictable, it made your stomach tighten.

Even as you took a step back, he didn’t stop. His strides were slow but purposeful, his presence quickly filling the space until your back hit the wall.

Your heart raced, but you tilted your chin up, meeting his sharp gaze head-on. You straightened up, you weren’t afraid, it was your house after all, he could not intimidate you.

“I opened the door,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural, normal thing in the world.

You scoffed. “Why?”

“I wanted to see the reason,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “The reason why your art is tucked away in some insignificant little corner if it’s not worth looking at.”

He lightly tugged at a strand of hair that had fallen in your face. Your jaw clenched, the anger bubbling beneath your skin. Every instinct was telling you to punch him, to push him away.

Before you could react, his hand brushed your throat.

Eris didn’t seem fazed, his gaze still locked on you, unblinking. He smirked slightly, clearly enjoying the way he riled you up.

“But,” he continued, softly brushing against of your neck, “it turns out it’s the best I’ve ever seen from any artist. Way better than that Archeron kid’s work.”

Your eyes widened as you grabbed his wrist, your pulse hammering beneath his palm. His tenderness was a stark contrast to the way he spoke to you and watched you. It was as if he was trying to see every emotion, every reaction from you, how far you would let him go. It was too intimate.

It made your head spin, he was testing your boundaries, and the next, his touch was almost considerate. 

It left you feeling unsettled, confused, angry at how easily he seemed to have the upper hand, how easily he could shift the power dynamic, the way he asserted control.

“How do you know about that?” you demanded, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Irina,” he said simply, smirking.

Of course. That’s why he was talking to her. He probably already knew about Cassians little crush on her and thats why he made her laugh for him. 

Manipulative fuck

“But don’t worry,” he murmured, his thumb still stroking the sensitive skin of your throat. “I’ll take care of it.”

“What?” you asked, confused and uneasy. His words sounded more like a threat than reassurance.

“Eris, what do you mean?” you demanded.

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, his smirk deepening.

“Worry about the marks your boyfriend left.”

Your heart skipped as his grip on your throat tightened ever so slightly. The room seemed to shrink around you, his intense stare rooting you in place.

Eris’ gaze darkened, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips.

“Maybe you should Take a shower before your parents get suspicious of why you smell like that,” he said, his tone a little too sharp.

“You wouldn’t want them to find out about what you’ve been up to, would you?”

You clenched your jaw at his words, irritation bubbling inside you. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of your own issues. I’ll handle mine.”

“You’re so cute when you’re angry,” he taunted, pushing you further over the edge.

Without thinking, you slapped him hard. His head snapped to the side, his cheek turning bright red, and the sting of the slap echoed in the air.

Furious, you slapped him again, pushing him backward until he fell onto your bed. You crawled over him, straddling his waist as you glared down at him.

“Why do you keep pushing me, Eris?” you spat, your voice low and tense.

“Why do you always make fun of me or threaten me? What do you gain from it? I’m not a toy, and I’m not scared of you.”

You placed your hands on his throat, the anger in your chest burning hotter. But before you knew it, he had pinned you beneath him. His body pressed between your soft thighs, your skirt pushed up around your waist, and all you could feel was his weight, his part touching another and the heat of his breath against you lips.

You were beyond furious now, you pushed him again. Your hands gripped his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric. You heard the fabric rip as you tugged harder, buttons were flying, you were unable to stop yourself. You scratched him leaving red marks on his chest. 

He grunted, his eyes narrowed, his posture shifting to overpower you. You fought back, not willing to give an inch, your breath coming in sharp bursts.

The confrontation had escalated, your bodies tumbled down. His hand gripped your wrists, his touch firm as he tried to gain control, but you weren’t backing down.

“I won’t be treated like this,” you spat, words dripping with anger.

He stared at you, lips curled in a mocking half-smile. “You think I’m the problem here?”

“I don’t care what you think anymore.”

His grip on you tightened as he leaned in, pushing his hips into yours from behind, his voice low and controlled. “You started this, not me.”

Before you could headbutt him, the door suddenly swung open. Both of your parents stood there, frozen in shock, their eyes wide. Both of your mothers gasping loudly, the sound of it echoing through the room.

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria

Broken Doll Taglist: @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @lilah-asteria @onebadassunicorn @anainkandpaper

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter five: as sick as it sounds i loved you first

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - at the annual hockey party you have two much needed, long time coming, conversations.

word count - 4.2k

a/n - okay okay guys we're on our way to HEALING. this is good. i don't know man. at least they're all finally starting to communicate a little bit. I mean it's mostly her but hey she is drunk word vomiting. they boys don't have much room to talk. also they're stupid men....so.

read the rest of the series here!

You didn’t want to work. Didn’t want to get out of bed. Didn’t want to do anything. Blankets wrapped around you, cacooning you in a soft straight jacket of warmth. You hadn’t moved in hours despite being awake. Nothing seemed to really matter lately. Your shades were drawn. Darkness shrouding your room. 

Empty. You felt empty. Your apartment a shallow husk of a home. 

You thought of your favorite sweater, still at Eris’ apartment. Your hairbrush and your good pair of sneakers. Plants that had previously sat on the shelves of your room, now resting on the window sill of Eris’ living room. The sleep you had grown accustomed to. Warm and comfortable. His bedsheets cool against your skin and the smell of his cologne drifting through your nose. His fingers combing through your hair. His kisses along your collarbone to wake you up. Wasted. By what? A game you had played along with for traditions sake. For what? 

Eris. The day you had met him. Your freshman year. Two years ago.  In his white cable knit sweater, fraying around the edges. Expensive things he let go into disarray as if he didn’t care. A carefully curated look of dishevelment. His smirk and his glittering eyes. The way you could never get yourself to talk to him. The way his swaggering confidence and sharp remarks scared you shitless. The way his eyes would sometimes meet yours across crowded coffee shops, quiet libraries, or crushingly packed parties. Like he could taste just how much you wanted to talk to him. The way you had fallen in love with him from a distance. 

The clock strikes one and you groan. Pulling your blanket over your head and rolling onto your stomach, before sliding out of your bed. Unwilling and unhappy. Fine. Work it is. You couldn’t call out. Rhys would kill you if Cassian was the only bartender. Nothing seemed to get done when Cassian was the only bartender. 

★ ★ ★

“So let me get this straight.” Cassian set several glasses on the counter top and angled his body towards you, “You think that avoiding both Az and Eris is the best way to go about things?” 

You don’t look at him. Shaking your head you continue washing the bar glasses, “I’m not avoiding Azriel. He isn’t talking to me….Just like last time.” 

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to say something.” 

Cassian moved closer to you. Forcing your attention away from the dishes. You huff a breath of vague annoyance and turn to meet his eyes. 

“What am I supposed to say?” 

He didn’t have an answer for you. He shrugged and pulled the glass out of your hands and nudged you away from the sink. Choosing to take your task instead of answering you. You look past him towards the clock on the wall. 

“I have to go. My shift is over and Az will be here any second.” 

“See. Avoiding.” 

You don’t respond as you take off your apron and tuck it beneath the bar, grabbing your bag, and heading for the door. You’re almost in the clear. Almost. You run directly into Azriel as he slides through the doorway. Muttering an apology you try to push past him, but he grabs your arm. Finally you look up from his chest to those hazel eyes, boring into you, studying your every slight facial expression. He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it before any words manage to escape. 

“Have uh…have a good shift.” 

With that your out the door. The cold fall wind whipping through your hair and stinging your cheeks red. You stand outside the bar. Out of breath from the one brief interaction with Azriel. The look he gave you still seared into your sightline. You look around the street. Empty, the streetlights just flickering on as it hit dusk, leaves no longer that buttery yellow and orange but a burnt red. Fall in full flush. The crisp air felt like an assault on your lungs. 

A ding from your phone snapped you out of the trance the weather had bewitched upon you. Mor. 

Mor: Come to the party with me tonight. 

You sigh. That was the last thing you wanted to do. The hockey team’s halloween party. The last thing you wanted to do. Another ding interrupts your response. 

Mor: I know you don’t want to go. But if I have to get drunk by myself imagine what could happen to me. 

You chuckle at the vague hint towards a catastrophe. You type out a response, 

You: What could possibly happen to you Morrigan?

Mor: Uhm…I have to be sexy by myself. Which is a damn shame. 

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth. Gnawing the already bitten raw flesh. A nervous tick. One that had been rearing it’s ugly head in the last couple weeks. You nod to yourself. Steeling yourself. You could do this. 

You: Fine. 

She didn’t respond. You knew she’d be at your apartment to pick you up in a couple hours anyway. 

★ ★ ★

“Stop fidgeting with your dress. You look good.” Mor hissed at you as you pulled your skirt down for what had to be the fourth time in the last couple minutes. 

The party was loud, the lights were low, and you were already three shots in, and working on your third drink. It was way too strong. One of Mor’s famous concoctions. It seemed the only way to get through this night. Your eyes scanned the room for familiar faces. You knew Azriel would show up. You knew Eris would be there two. Neither of them ever missed this party. You had been constantly scanning the room for Cassian’s towering form, knowing that Az and Rhys wouldn’t be far behind him. Luckily for you they hadn’t shown yet. 

You reached up to rub your neck. There was still a bruise there from where Azriel had sunk his teeth. That light red mark a reminder of the horrible decision you had made. You hadn’t heard from Eris since he told you he was done. You supposed that maybe you should stop expecting to hear from him. But the silence still hurt. It stretched through your mind constantly. That lack of communication. The gravity of the quiet. 

Mor looked you up and down. Her eyes narrowing as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned to face you fully, taking the cup out of your hands and pulling your arms lightly. 

“Loosen up. Come on. Let’s dance.” 

You hang your head and try to pull out of her grip, but when she wanted something she got it. So you begrudgingly let her drag you to the dance floor. Letting your body move with hers as the buzz of your drinks settled over you like a warm blanket. For a couple minutes, as the music washed over you, the bass pumping along with your heartbeat, you let yourself forget. About everything. 

But like all peaceful moments it didn’t last long. Out of the corner of your eye, through the flashing neon lights, and the swarm of people, you caught sight of him. Well you caught sight of a flash of auburn hair and a flash of freckles across cream skin. Eris. His face half covered by a golden mask that looked awfully like a fox. His hand on the small of some girls back. The girl wasn’t someone you knew. Another accessory. He had gone back to being exactly what everyone thought he was. 

You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date. 

Your words to him swam through your ears. A violet wave of memory. Something sour climbed its way up your throat and into your mouth. You pulled out of Mor’s grasp and searched frantically for a bathroom. Spotting it across the room you made straight for the door. Pushing past everyone. The crowd suddenly suffocating. The people bumping into eachother, jumping, huddled together. The music reverberating through the room. All of it overwhelming. All of it too loud. Suffocating. 

Azriel had just walked into the party. Cassian and Rhysand on either side of him. The first thing he saw was you. Booking it to the bathroom. Your eyes frantic and your hand coming to cover your mouth. He made to follow you, knowing exactly what was about to happen. And then he saw it. Eris had clocked you the same second he had. Both men made eye contact. Standing a couple feet away from eachother. Neither moving. Neither following. 

Eris had seen you before you saw him. You looked damn good. He was absolutley sure that Mor had put you in that outfit. The skirt a little too short. Your hair curled the same way Mor’s always was. You skin gleaming from sweat. The heat of the room making your every inch sparkle a little under the lights. Your eyes closed as you danced. Body swaying in time with the beat of the music. You looked too good. His jaw clenched. He was making sure to get closer to the girl he had brought. Making sure to make it very clear that this was his date. He saw the way your expression shifted. Saw the way the panic in you seemd to surface. It was almost like he heard the saw words you did. 

You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date. 

He hated every second of it. Every second of get back. But if he had to play the part. For you. For your friends he would do it.  Play the asshole. Be whatever it is that they wanted him to be. Over you? Yeah sure he could play pretend for a night. It was nothing right? It was casual. No labels. Just company. 

Eris thought of when he first saw you. His sophomore year. Two years ago. In your leather jacket. Your hair cut short. Your quiet remarks to your friends that always seemed to make them laugh. The blush that would spread across your cheeks when he’d meet your gaze. When he’d notice the way you stared. The way you were always flanked by your guard dogs. Cassian and Azriel. Sometimes Morrigan and Amren. Always too accompanied to approach. Your coy smile and your heavy lashes. A sight for sore eyes at every suffocating party and overly heated coffee shop. An ever present distraction. The way he would laugh louder to see if it would draw your attention, and it always did. The way that he had finally gotten you alone at the start of term party this year. When years of passing interaction, casual hellos, and a warm smile had finally gotten him into your life. 

And then he saw Azriel. Saw how Az noticed you fleeing the dance floor just as he did. Noticed the way that his body was arched into your pursuit the same way his own was. Both feeling that incessant need to make sure you were okay. Their eyes met. Play the part. Let him have it. Be what they want you to be. He broke eye contact with Azriel and bent his head in submission. Go on. The motion seemed to say. You play your part and I’ll play mine. Eris leaned back down to the girl he had brought. Pretending to listen to whatever she was saying as his eyes trailed Azriel to the bathroom. Nodding, not paying attention as he followed shadowsinger across the floor and stood at the closed bathroom door, listening to the conversation held within. 

★ ★ ★

You didn’t want to throw up. You paced the small bathroom clutching your stomach. You were a bartender for fucks sake. If you couldn’t hold your alcohal then what was the point? You clenched your eyes shut and shook your head. Trying not to let anything come up. Slowly you sank to the ground. Letting your head fall against the wall behind you, your hand clutching the rim of the toilet as if in preparation for what was to come. 

The door creaked open and Azriel slid into the room. White t shirt, soaked with blood, clinging to his frame. His hair greased and parted down the middle. A plastic curved knife tucket into the belt loop of his jeans. Billy Loomis. Of course he had dressed up as Billy Loomis. You had watched scream together last year. You vaguely remembered telling him he’d look damn good dressed up like that, before Cassian snorted and said something about it somehow not being emo enough and god forbid Az wear anything but a black shirt. 

He crouched down next to you. Slowly pushing the hair out of your face and moving your body towards the toilet. Holding your hair in one hand and gently brushing a hand over your back as he whispered, 

“Just let it out.” 

You shook your head. Humming your disagreement. But the movement of your body, the small shift in your position, the shake of your head. It sent you over the edge and you lurched over the toilet. Wretching and coughing. Azriel softly shushed you, trying his best to be comforting, trying to be soothing. He had held your hair back while you vomited more times than he could remember. Freshman year was your black out drunk year and he remembered it well. 

Slowly you raised your head, blinking through watery eyes at Azriel. His concerned expression did nothing to calm the storm in your stomach. In your head. You sucked in a shuddering breath and he tilted his head. 

“Why do you only like me when I’m sad?” 

Your question was like a knife to his gut. A sharp, achingly cold, pain twisting it’s way through his organs. He slightly shook his head as if he didn’t understand. You sniffled, hiccuping slightly as you continued, 

“You dont…You only want me when you can’t have me or when I’m so fucking distraught that I can’t think straight.” 

Twisting. Pushing deeper. That knife. Like you wanted his insides to spill out and his blood to drench your hands. 

“Why?” 

A whisper. Small and pleading. He couldn’t think of something to say. His mind completely blank. You push his hands away from you. Off your shoulder and out of your hair. Scrambling away from his contact. 

“I left. That first time. Because I was so fucking scared that when you woke up you’d pretend it didn’t happen. That we’d go back to being friends and act like nothing had changed. I left because I was convinced it didn’t mean anything to you and I just didn’t want to hear you say it. I didn’t want to see the regret on your face if I was still there.” 

You never talked about it. A silent agreement to never talk about what happened two years ago. Your first comment on it brought a horrified look to his face that he couldn’t wipe away fast enough. But he tried. Tried to reknit his brows and close his mouth, 

“You’re drunk” 

You wave your hands and shake your head, “No. No. I didn’t want to just be a pity fuck that you didn’t care about. That you didn’t ever want to talk about. So I left and I hoped you’d prove me wrong and you never did. You stayed silent and we never fucking talked about it again. Because I was right.” 

“You weren’t” 

Azriel wanted to believe it. Wanted to be able to tell you that you were wrong. Wanted to tell you it was more than that. But that knife in his gut. It was all he could focus on. The sharp blade of reality. He wanted you when you were sad. Something to fix. Something he could try to piece back together. But he knew you were never something he could hold together. So he was there when you needed rebuilding. Your voice struck him again, 

“I was. I was right.” 

You rose to your feet now. Pushing past him as he stood to try and block you. Shoving your hands into his chest to get him to move out of your way. 

“You only like me when I’m sad.” 

You clutched the door handle and wiped your face hastily. Trying to rid yourself of any crying evidence. Not wanting to look a mess in front of the people you knew were lined up outside the bathroom door. 

“I had something. Someone. That wanted me when I was whole. When I was happy. Someone who made me happy.” 

He reached for you and you flinched away, “And I let you ruin it because for some reason I kept thinking. How could I deserve it?  And now look at me.” 

You motioned around the bathroom, at yourself. As if you could illustrate the hollow feeling in your gut. In your chest. 

Azriel muttered your name. The only thing he could think to say. You pressed your lips into a tight line and took a deep breath before leaving him to stand alone in the bathroom. 

★ ★ ★

You pushed your way through the sweltering room. The patio. The front steps. It didn’t matter. Outside. You just wanted to be outside. You bump into Rhys before you can get to the door. His hands reaching to clasp your shoulders. His face etched with worry. His eyes scanning your face and one hand smoothing your hair down. 

“You okay?” 

You could barely hear him over the din of the party. You nod quickly and push his worrying hands away, 

“You got a cigarette?” 

“Uh yeah?” 

He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a pack, handing you one, and slipping a lighter into your free hand as you tuck the cigarette behind you ear. Pushing past him you head for the door once more. Slipping out. Relishing in the way the cool october air pricked at your exposed skin. The way it burned your nostrils and finally provided a steady gust of air to your lungs. You walk to the curb, sitting down and fumbling with the lighter that Rhys had given you. 

Trying to light the cigarette proved difficult with the halloween wind and the light rain now dripping from the velvet sky. Someone tall moved to stand in front of you, blocking you from the breeze and the drizzle. Finally allowing the lighter to spark to life. You muttered a thank you, taking a long drag, and finally looked up at the figure before you. 

Eris. 

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me” Smoke flowed past your lips as you said it. He offered a half hearted smile before crouching to sit on the curb next to you. Someone who made me happy. Your words to Azriel echoing in Eris’ ears as he sat. 

“I just wanted a smoke.” 

He pulled the cigarette from your fingers and took a drag. Holding eye contact with you like a challenge. 

“That girl finally bore the shit out of you?” You shouldn’t comment on it. On her. You had no right. You were never really together in the first place and after what you had done. Running to Azriel as soon as Eris said he was done with you. You shouldn’t comment on it. 

He shrugged and tried his best to blow the smoke away from you as he exhaled. He turned back towards you. His eyes wandering across your face, down your neck, across your shoulders, and then suddenly backtracking. Back to the crook of your neck. That ever fading bite mark. That last physical reminder. His eyes stayed there. The deep russet color now smoldering. 

“You finally done with Az? Or is that just getting started?” 

“There’s nothing to start. There never was. I…get that now.” 

He snorted and brought the cigarette back to his lips. You ran your tongue across your teeth. Trying to think of something to say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You did exactly what you were expected to.” He paused and you spoke again, 

“Is that what you’re doing? Bringing a date here?” 

He shrugged again. Play the part. Eyes still boring their way through your soul. That slight bit of connection. That eye contact. However frustrated, however angry, filling some sort of hole that he had left in you. You sigh deeply and stare at your shoes. Lightly tapping your heels together like maybe the motion would somehow bring you home. Straight back into his arms. But it wouldn’t. 

“You know. We don’t have to stay the way other people see us.” 

Something in his gaze softened. Like your words had cracked through his walls. Built some sort of window that could be opened into a real conversation. So you continued, 

“Something to be fixed or someone to hate. Angry. We don’t have to be angry.” 

“Are you angry?” His voice was cool. Like he didn’t want you to know that he really did wonder if you were angry with him. For pushing you out. For being unwilling to talk after one issue. 

“Not at you. At myself for…” You trailed off. Eyes going distant. Voice growing soft and much much warmer. “Do you remember when we first met? You were wearing that white sweater. The one with the holes in it.” 

He tried not to smile. He didn’t think you remembered that. Didn’t know if you even really bothered to remember anything about him before he had managed to convince you to let him into your life for real. He nodded, looking away from you. 

“You know…When you finally made a move on me a couple months ago. I couldn’t fucking believe it. Eris Vanserra, could have anyone he wants, heir to his fathers company, ever charming, hockey super star, total fucking asshole to everyone….was talking to me like he really cared what I had to say.” 

He still wasn’t looking at you. He had hung his head and closed his eyes. As if remembering that night himself. 

“I don’t know if you were going to say it in the locker room. It seemed like you were. But…” You slump your shoulders before standing up and brushing yourself off. Leaves falling from where they had stuck to your legs. He turned to look at you, his eyes searching, almost pleading. Like he was begging you not to say what you were about to say. 

“As sick as it sounds. I loved you first Eris. I was just waiting for you to notice and then when you did I was so fucking scared that you would do what everyone told me you would do, that you’d fuck me and then leave me like it was nothing.” 

Again it felt like you were going to throw up, “And you proved them wrong. And that was scarier. Because what if I didn’t deserve it.” 

He tried to say something, but you cut him off. “You don’t have to say anything. You don’t have to forgive me. Maybe you shouldn’t. But I just…” 

You shake your head. Almost like you were giving up and started to walk away. You were going to toss one final thing over your shoulder. But you squared your shoulder and looked at him. He was standing now, like he wanted to follow you. Like he wanted to walk you home. Something he had grown so used to doing. But he didn’t budge as you said, 

“I feel empty without you.” 

A small smile spread across his face. A smile he had thrown at you when everything was okay. When you two were good. When you were happy. Mischievous. Fox like and sly. 

“Not like that. Not like in a sexual way. In the like I miss you way. Asshole.” 

A small laugh escaped his lips at that. At your slight teasing tone. You stare at each other for a moment before you say, serious now, 

“I miss you.” 

And with that you turned and started to walk down the street. You had to go home. You didn’t want to talk to any of your friends. Didn’t want to face Azriel again. Didn’t want to drink anymore or dance or act like everything was fine. 

He wanted to say it back. Every bone in his body screaming at him to say it back. To tell you that he missed you too. But he couldn’t. You were too far away. Too drunk. Too sad. 

But that smile he had given you. That teasing tone that you had held for even a split second. A small glimmer of hope. Maybe there was something to salvage there. 

Azriel leaned against the doorframe of the house. He had been watching the conversation you had with Eris. Not able to hear it, but monitoring from afar. He had followed you out. To try and talk. Try and apologize for everything. For how stupid he had been. He didn’t want to lose you…as a friend. Above all else as a friend. As family. That’s what you were supposed to be. You and everyone else in your friend group. Family. Your final words were all he had managed to hear. 

I miss you. 

Something you would have never said to him. Rightly so, Azriel supposed. Eris eventually turned away from your fleeting form and met Azriel’s eyes. Az wondered how long Eris had known he was skulking in the background. He offered Eris a small nod. A small concession. Eris nodded back. 

A brief. Silent. Understanding of sorts maybe. 

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[surielstea]

Life Debts

Eris Week day 3: Healing

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eris comes to Reader for a sleeping tonic, but she has run out, so they find other ways to find enough exhaustion for sleep.

Warnings: Smut | 18+ | Minors DNI | Creampie | teasing | p in v | penetration | he’s so hot pls I need him so badly

A. Note: this wasn’t originally going to be smut but I love to spoil you guys soo 🎀🎀

4k words.

My heart pounded against my ribs at the sound of warriors preparing for battle. Mentally, I wasn't ready to watch all the soldiers lose their life, I didn't think I'd ever be, the male whom I could not save, no matter how much I tried.

I was in the midst of creating a basic salve used for deeper gashes that didn't require stitches, the ointment taking effect long enough to fight off any infection as well as numb the pain.

I was grinding different plants with magical properties into the mortar when a familiar red-headed general came into my tent, clutching his side.

I give the lordling a very disappointed look. "Don't start," He warned, holding up his other hand before I could begin complaining.

"Those stitches took me forever and you've already broken them? It hasn’t even been a full day.” I begin to complain anyway.

He walked with such a casual grace, even with a splitting wound in his side, he did not falter. He sat on my workbench silently. I sighed. "What happened?"

"Training with the others, we leave at dawn and some of my soldiers are paranoid. I was only trying to help them take the edge off." He argued and I shook my head, gathering my medical bag and plopping it down onto the desk beside him.

"You're too careless." I reprimand, beginning to unbutton his simple tunic that would usually have armor over it, slowly revealing more and more of his chest.

I steel my features. I've been cutting clothes off wounded soldiers my whole life, it was nothing to marvel at— but the blush on my cheeks said otherwise.

"Careless? Or did I just want an excuse to come and see my favorite healer in all the lands?" He suggests and I flick my eyes up at him, sending him a glare.

"You don't need an excuse to see me," I mumble softly, finishing with his tunic and pulling it off his arms. He was fully capable of doing it himself, and I probably should've let him, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like the feel of his warm skin brushing my fingertips.

"No, but I did need an excuse for you to take my clothes off," He says in a snarky tone and I swallow thickly, rummaging through the medical pack for something to clean his wound with.

I hated him. Not because he was cruel to me, or because of who his father is, but because he made me feel so helpless. I've been patching men up with worse wounds than this for centuries, and yet he had me fumbling with a pack of gauze nervously like some novice.

Anxiety was a healer's worst fear because a single slip up or jerk of hand could cost a man his life. And yet he made me so damned tense every time he was too close.

I somehow managed to conjure a clean cloth covered in antiseptic that I could clean his deep wound with.

He'd be fine, but it'd be uncomfortable for a while. He hisses as the cloth comes to his wound and eases to the side.

I ignore him as I pull the cloth away and grab the sterilized needle and silk thread. My hand is perfectly steady as I begin restitching the wound. "Stop squirming," I grumble.

"Are you trying to make it hurt?" He gritted through clenched teeth.

"You're the one who went and opened your wound after I so graciously healed you." I snarl.

"Well it wasn't as if I asked to—" He was cut off by a particularly deep prick. "Gods, do you hate me?" He seethed and I smiled slightly. Good, it was easier if he hated me. "I do," I hum softly, almost weakly, tuning out all his hisses and groans as I focus on his torso, the suture coming together and helping meld his flesh back together.

I owed my life to Eris, he had saved me from his father's tents and the men he kept around. I had just healed one of the High Lord's commanders when he tried to repay me with what he thought I wanted, typical male pride leading him to believe that doing my job and caring for his wounds was coming onto him. Eris had stopped it and took me to where his battalion stayed, they were a lot kinder, for war mongrels that is. I hadn't expected it meant that I was now his personal healer, but here we were.

"I don't understand you," He mumbled out of the blue and I crease my brows, but don't look away from what I was doing. "You say you hate me, and yet you heal me with delicate hands." He mumbles, perplexed at my opposing sides.

I couldn't offer an explanation, because I too was often confused by my actions. I tried to say it was because I owed him but, I don't, not anymore at least. Then I tried to argue that it was immoral to let a man bleed, but even that didn't feel right. There was a foreign feeling in the pit of my stomach that only ever appeared when he was around, it was something like longing or reverence but it felt deeper than that, it felt like a connection, and seeing him hurt sent my blood boiling that my body willed no other choice but to heal him.

I shrug. "It's my job," I settle on saying. "You pay me, so I have to help you. But no one likes their boss," I say with a huff, not fully believing my own words as I tie off the silk thread and finish with his wound.

"No, no because you're worried about me." He shakes his head and I risk a glance at his amber eyes. "Of course, I'm worried about you," I swallow thickly, unwrapping a pad of gauze and wrapping it around his torso as an extra layer of protection, just in case.

"And if you die at dawn, if I find you on that battlefield I'll revive you," I finish tying off the gauze and look at him with a stubborn expression. "I'll find a way to bring you back, just so I can kill you myself. Understand?" I raise a brow at him and he smirks, standing from the workbench— which makes me crane my neck back.

"How romantic of you," His sultry smile doesn't ease as he tugs his shirt back on. "Perhaps I will die just so I can see the lengths you'll go to bring me back," He purrs and I frown at even taunting me about it, the idea made me so ill that I thought I might hurl.

I grip his shirt in my fist, silently begging. "Don't," I whisper. "Please, don't die." My voice nearly quivers but I will it to remain steady.

He gives me a sloppy smirk and he swoops down, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek and before I can even get the chance to process it he's pulling away.

"Have a little faith in your general, would you?" He arched a brow and the confidence in his voice makes me think he genuinely split his stitches on purpose, just so he could tell me not to worry.

"I'm sure I'll see you in here later," He says and I swallow thickly. I didn't want to, I never wanted him in these healing tents again because he was hurt. I wanted him to be rid of me and alive, rather than in pain and with me.

"Be safe." That is all I can reply with before he pulls back the flap of my tent and exits the space that now feels all too small without him in it.

The knock on my door makes me startle up from bed. I hadn't been sleeping anyway, the aftereffects of war had taken their toll on my mind, if I fell asleep I'd be reliving the bloodshed, seeing the faces of the men who I couldn't save, hearing the screams and pleads for mercy below the battle cries.

I swallowed down my nausea and slipped out of bed, padding on the cold marble towards the door. I swing it open, revealing a familiar redhead, shirtless.

"Don't tell me you split your stitches again?" I groan, looking at his abdomen where his wound was, bandages still intact and recently changed. I smile softly, at least he was taking care of it. My eyes flick back up to his.

"No, no I can't sleep," He muttered. "Do you have a tonic or something?" He scratched the side of his neck and I shifted on my feet, looking back to my room where all of my vials of sleeping tonic were emptied and discarded along my bedside table.

"I'm out, but I can make some real quick," I say, I was planning on doing it in the morning but he seemed that he might collapse without another night's rest. "Come in," I pull the door open wider.

He steps into my small suite, closing the door behind him.

I tiredly stumbled over to the window sill where plants and roots were lined in jars. "You can't sleep either?" The Lord asks, looking around my rooms curiously as if he's never stepped foot in the healers' quarters before.

"There's no point," I say while collecting the herbs and oils needed to make the tonic before dumping them all down onto my work table haphazardly. "It just results in night terrors," I confess, too tired to put a wall up.

His eyes flick back to me, and I can feel them raking up my figure. I hadn't realized I was in a short nightgown until I felt his gaze on my bare legs and arms, the fabric hanging high at my thighs. I ignore the feeling slinking up my spine and begin crushing dried leaves under my palm, then grinding them in a mortar.

He stalked closer, standing behind me now and peering over my shoulder. I could feel the heat rolling off of his shirtless body, but he didn't make contact.

"Have you tried any other methods, of trying to sleep?" He asks, his voice low with exhaustion. I dare a glance back at him, and immediately regret it. His amber eyes seemed to look right through me, to my soul.

I was suddenly very aware of the fact that we were alone in my chambers, both of us wearing far too little, and standing far too close. "Like what?"

His low laugh caught me by surprise, a deep and velvety sound that filled the room and lingered for a moment longer than it should have. He moved forward, leaning his hands against the work table and trapping me between his arms. He towered over me, so much so that I was forced to crane my neck up to keep his gaze. His scent filled me to my very core, cinnamon and clove and crackling campfires. "Well, a lonely bed certainly isn't helpful when trying to get some rest," He suggests and I avert my gaze and turn back around.

His breath was against my neck as I continued to work, quicker than before, my movements almost panicked.

He seemed to notice the shift in pace or perhaps scented my mix of arousal and tenseness. "Are you nervous, Fawn?" He asked and I swallowed down the lump in my throat. "I'm just— just tired," I shake my head, attempting to convince myself more than him. It wasn't a lie, but it surely wasn't the reason my hands shook.

His deep chuckle rang again and suddenly the room was freezing and he was the only warmth, my fingers ached to reach back and touch him. He leans closer, his bare chest pressing against my shoulder blades. I knew he heard my breath subtly increasing, my pulse pounding. "Is that why your heart is beating so fast?" He purred, the sound just beside my ear.

I didn't reply, focused on bottling the thick liquid in the small vial.

Before he can move any closer I whirl around to face him, plugging the vial with a cork and shoving it into his chest. "Finished." I smile gently.

His eyes don't leave mine as he takes the small bottle from me, his hand brushing mine. "Thank you," He said softly.

"You're welcome." I nodded, but didn't move, not that I could get far, I was still caged by his proximity.

Eris knew deep down he should pull away, and give you space during these trying times, but he's never been good at doing the right things, so instead he advanced and his hands moved to my hips.

"If this tonic doesn't work, there's surely another way we could find sleep, yes?" He arches a brow and I shift under his stare, the warmth of his fingertips seemingly burning through the silk of my nightgown.

"Surely," I whisper softly, looking up at him with only one intention being expressed in my eyes.

His eyes darkened at my reply, and one of his hands lowered, past my hip down to my thigh, to the hem of my nightgown. "And would you, my healer, be open to that second option?" He tilts his head, cocking it in a way that was more animal than man.

"In the name of science, or for our own selfish purposes?" I ask, attempting to ignore the way he was toying with the hem of my flimsy nightgown, and the heady scent of my need for him spreading throughout the room.

He smirked and leaned closer, breath mingling as his lips ghosted over your jaw as he said, "Can't it be both?" Into the shell of my ear. A shiver ran down my spine at the intense need that rocked through me. His hand on my waist moved, to my jaw, my chin in his hand as he angled his head up towards me.

"Or would you prefer only for our selfish, pleasurable reasons?" He suggests and my stomach knots. I willed myself to push him away, to tell him that he was a lord and I was little more than a servant. But I couldn't. He smiled at my lack of reply. "Go on Fawn, tell me," He prompts with a foxlike smirk that sent my insides fluttering with butterflies. "What do you want?"

He waited for my words to come, it'd be so easy to pin me to this work table and begin worshipping me, but he reeled in his most animalistic instincts and waited patiently for me to form my thoughts into words.

"You," I finally manage to get out. "I want you to touch me," I say, shame tinting my cheeks pink.

He smirks. "Where do you want me to touch you?" He tilts his head mockingly and my stomach coils. "Here?" He asks, his hand dipping beneath my slip and gripping my thigh. "Or," His thumb inches closer to my core. "Here?" He suggests, brushing over the seam of my panties.

"There," I plead, a gasp shuddering through me. His smile grows into something feral as he feels the way I was pressing my thighs together, wanting so desperately to have his touch.

"Yeah?" He purrs, adjusting so that his two longest fingers pressed into my clothed folds, just enough pressure to tease. It was an effort not to grind down onto the touch.

"You've ruined these panties, my girl, and I've barely touched you," He whispers, his lips ghosting mine. I let out a soft sigh when he rubs my covered pussy. I ached to get the barrier of my soaked underwear off, but he was enjoying this, seeing me restrain from writhing down on his hand.

"Please," I whimper softly. "Please, take them off," I say with a raw tenderness in my voice that sent the male into a spiral of lust and desire.

"You're sure? Once we start I doubt I'll be able to stop," He warns and my nerves set alight at that.

"I'm sure," I nod hurriedly.

The confirmation was all he needed to hear before his lips attached to mine, prying my mouth open and pushing his tongue in to taste me thoroughly. The hand that had been on my chin moved to the back of my head, pulling me in deeper as he claimed my mouth.

It was marvelous, all the tension that had been between us these past few weeks was breaking, finally snapping in two the moment his lips met mine.

I shivered as he pulled at my panties, the resounding rip of fabric echoing throughout the room as the cloth fell from my hips. He drank in every soft sound I made, devouring it and swallowing the noise down greedily.

"My girl," he whispers into my mouth and I let out a sultry moan as his fingers finally delved between my dripping folds.

"Eris," I sighed as his thumb pressed onto my clit. My hands came to his shoulders, digging my nails into the bare skin as he pushed my nightgown up my thighs, bunching it at my hips.

His middle finger traced lazy circles around my neglected entrance and I shivered. "No, no Eris," I panted out and his hand immediately retracted. I grabbed his wrist, not letting him get far.

"What's wrong?" He asks with furrowed brows and I shake my head.

"I want your cock," I beg softly and I swore for a moment his eyes went golden. "I don't want to wait, I need you inside of me," I say, my pleas falling from my lips shamelessly.

"Turn around then," He ordered and my heart rate fluttered.

I do as he says, hinging myself over the work table as he thrashes off his pants and everything else beneath them until we are both bare and needy for each other. He pushed up my dress higher, exposing my backside and I swore a growl rumbled from him.

He gripped my hips tightly, and when his hardened length pressed into my folds I let out a quivering moan, my slick dripping onto him as a natural lubricant. I roll my hips down onto his pulsing cock, my hips digging into the edge of the desk.

"Gods you're dripping," He said, his voice half a groan. "All for me," He smiles and I nod hastily, clenching around nothing as I impatiently wait for his penetration.

After a few more drags of his cock he aligns with my aching core, and without another word, slowly pushes into me.

I mewl loudly as the thick head of his cock stretches me wide, the rest of him filling me to the brim.

"You're so, damned tight," He grunted out as I took every inch of him into me with greedy pleasure. My back bows as he finally sheathed fully inside of me, his hips digging into the plushness of my ass.

"You— you can move," I nod after a moment of adjusting, struggling to form the words due to how he was forming my walls around him, molding me to fit him.

"Tap the desk twice if it's too much, yeah?" He says and I nod in understanding.

He then begins to slowly pull out, then thrust back in, stuffing himself back inside of me.

A soft moan escapes me with every roll of his hips, his speed steadily increasing. He grew faster and faster, rougher until the table was creaking breath the weight and my thighs were pressing into the sharp edges of it. But I barely felt the pain, too caught up in the pleasure of his thick cock buried inside of me.

He finally set on a brutal pace, his length dragging through my walls and toying with that sensitive spot that left me a drooling, whining mess. My body bounced against the cold table painfully, but it was all pleasure when it came to him. "Eris," I gasped and he threw his head back, his fingers digging into the skin of my waist, so possessive I wouldn't be surprised if I found marks come the morning.

"Fuck, say my name again Fawn," He groans and I do, with every thrust, it was his name coming from my lips. "Louder, I want this whole castle knowing who's making you feel this good," He drawls.

I screamed his name, my feet slowly lifting me from the ground as he lost control and began to push me up the table with his thrusts. My toes barely brushed the floor when he pressed my hips down onto the desk, preventing me from writhing any further.

I arched my back and he leaned over me, his sweat-slicked chest pressing to my shoulders. The new angle made him press into a spot deep inside of me that made my vision blur. I clamped down onto his pulsing length and he smiled against my neck, his teeth grazing over my pulse point. "That's it, squeeze my cock just like that," He instructs and I shakily gasp as I keep a leash on my building release.

"I'm close," I warn and he nips at my skin with his sharp canines, not enough to draw blood but enough to inflict pain.

"I know baby, me too," He confesses softly, fucking me wildly with reckless abandon.

"Come inside," I pleaded and his control snapped.

"You sure?" His voice bordered on a growl.

"It's okay 'm on a contraceptive," I murmur. "Just, fill me Eris." I plead and any sliver of restraint he had left disappeared at those final three words.

"Come for me, come on my cock baby," He grunts out through a clenched jaw, and as if by his command, my release crashed through me. My vision hazed as I reached my peak, my very bones singing with the feeling of ecstasy.

His climax quickly followed mine due to the way I convulsed and twitched around him. His cock pulsed violently as his warm come unloads into my womb, still thrusting and pushing it deeper into me, seeping into every crevice ensuring every last drop was nestled inside me.

Eris buried his face into the crook of my neck, his breathing hitching as my quiet moans filled the room. I slowly came down from my high and relaxed onto the work table, my fingers shaky as I planted them down onto the wood. He pressed a soft kiss to the bite mark he had most likely left, the gentle touch rivaling his earlier roughness.

"You did so well," He praised, kissing up to my jaw. My heart swelled at the intimate movement, the kissing somehow seeming more damning than what took place only moments ago.

Ever so slowly he pulls out from my overstimulated entrance. I press my thighs together at the absence of him and he guides me away from the desk, into his arms as he swoops me up bridal style. My eyes droop with exhaustion as I burrow into his warm chest.

"No sleeping yet, I'm going to get you cleaned up first," He ordered and I let out a low whine in protest and he chuckled, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then one to the tip of my nose, then finally my lips. Weakly I kissed back, my hand coming up to kiss cheek. He bit my lower lip and I smiled at the sensation.

He pulled back and I looked up at him adoringly. "You keep staring at me like that and we're definitely not sleeping tonight," He said and I smirked but averted my gaze and leaned onto his shoulder, allowing him to carry me into my bathing chambers where he drew me a hot bath and cleaned me up.

We both slept in each other's arms last night, a deep slumber encasing us, and for the first time in weeks, I didn't have any nightmares, not when Eris's arms kept me warm throughout the night, reminding me I was safe now.

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[kopfkino-o]

another cracky actoar au. the setting is a hardware store in the early 2000s. Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian all work there.

Rhys obvi runs the front cash register and calls himself the shift manager (he isn't, Az is) but he actually doesn't know that much about at home projects and mostly just likes to flirt with Feyre who works at the craft store across the street. but the customers love him, and he’s charming as hell, so management lets it slide.

Cassian loves working in the powertools department. he likes them all. power saws, chain saws, drills, sanders, polishers, etc. his favorite is the nailgun though. once he almost got fired for accidently nailing Tarquin's coat to a piece of plywood but it all turned out okay in the end. sort of. most days during his shift, Cas likes to post not so subtle body shots to his MySpace in the hopes of catching Nesta's eye. It literally never works.

Azriel likes to mix different paints together to see what colors they make whenever he's on edge. it's like a damn drug. does the shop owner (Eris) appreciate all the wasted paint? probably not. but what's he going to do? fire him? laughable. Az is the only one who can actually work the cashier and Eris sort of has a thing for him so it’s basically a win win. He skateboards to work because he can’t afford a bus pass and sometimes he smokes cigs in the tile isle because, well, how many customers actually care about luxury vinyl planking