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velarisdusk · 7 months ago

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Ice Cold Jealousy

Hockey AU | Cassian x Reader

Series Masterlist -> Part 2 - Thawing Boundaries

word count: 8.3k content: [ explicit sexual content, PWP, unprotected PIV, rough sex, oral (m & f receiving), voyeuristic elements, possessiveness/jealousy, power dynamics, little bit of overstim?, hair pulling, dirty talk, humiliation?, biting, locker room sex (it's come to my attention that hockey locker rooms don't typically have lockers but just suspend your disbelief for a sec please), inappropriate touching, insinuation that Cass stares at Az's ass teehee | violence (physical altercation, reader not involved), blood mention, strong language | no beta we die like men ] summary: Despite the tension on the ice, your relationship with Cassian, the commanding captain of the Velaris Vipers, is anything but cold. His jealousy ignites when the rest of the team's flirtations become too much to ignore. In the aftermath of a disastrous game, the boundaries between playful teasing and intense passion blur, leading to a locker room encounter that challenges both your resolve and your control. author's note: WOW, okay, this is the first fic I've written for ACOTAR, and the first fic I've written in close to a decade, so excuse me if I'm a bit rusty :) I've been going through a hockey thing lately, watching random games on youtube in their entirety, so obviously that means I had to write Cass, duh. Sorry it's on the longer side; I just had lots of ideas... like only 3k of this is plot lmfao. Enjoy!

Cassian knows they’re fucked.

You can see it on his face. With two points down and precious little time left on the clock, they need a miracle. The referee skates to center ice, puck in hand. You lean forward, breath caught in your throat, as the Velaris Vipers take their positions. The air is thick with tension, the crowd’s roar fading into a dull buzz in your ears. You knew the Hewn City Hellhounds were good, but never imagined they’d pose this much of a problem.

Cassian’s and Azriel’s eyes meet for a moment, a silent agreement passing between them. The puck drops, and its whereabouts for the seconds after are a mystery to you. After an unruly clash of hockey sticks and a mess of bodies, Cassian passes to Azriel on his left, who takes off down the ice with it. Cassian moves to mirror him on the opposite side of the ice. The Hellhounds’ defense closes in, but Cassian and Azriel move in perfect sync, the puck zipping between their sticks in a blur. They dance around the opposition, narrowly avoiding checks, their movements so fluid they don’t need to look to know where the other will be.

Just as Azriel is about to be boxed in by two defenders, a swift flick of his wrist sends the puck to Tarquin who’s come up to support them. You let out a sigh of relief, not even having seen him since he was back by the net.

Why is he up here instead of back by the net? Eris should’ve been there; it’s his one job as a winger to support Cassian as center in making goals. You scan the rink, but don’t need to for long. He skates right up to you with an air of nonchalance, like he doesn’t need to be with the rest of his team fighting for their lives. You give him an incredulous look, about to open your mouth and shout at him when he gets to the wall, but the words catch in your throat when he blows a kiss, tracing a heart on the glass with a smirk. You gather yourself quickly, but before you can scold him his back is already turned and he skates back toward the action.

You’ve grown accustomed to the team’s teasing, knowing it’s all in good spirit. But with Eris, there’s always been an undercurrent of something more intense, more deliberate. As he skates away now, you can’t help but wonder, not for the first time, just how far he’d take things if given the chance. You’ll never admit it out loud, but the way he cuts directly in front of the opposing team’s defenseman to get him away from Tarquin is impressive with how absentminded it seems.

Watching them, you reflect on the years you’ve spent at their games and practices. Not only have you witnessed their drastic improvement, but you’ve also grown close to the team. Perhaps too close, if the playful flirtations are any indication.

Yeah, maybe ‘close’ was a bit…

But it wasn’t your fault. Really! A little over three years ago, Cassian invited you to their season opener, your relationship still fresh. You hadn’t known the first thing about the sport so obviously you spent hours watching videos and frantically looking up your countless questions to ensure you wouldn’t be entirely lost. Cassian had told you on the drive home that night that word had spread rather quickly through the Vipers about the hot girl in the stands. You knew. Hot, definitely, but dumb? Oblivious? No. Of course you noticed their showing off — the goalie’s glances after skilled saves, the wingers’ risky shots, the defensemen’s aggressive checks and subsequent winks, smiles, and waves from the penalty box.

You’ve often recalled their expressions when Cassian called into the locker room for them to come meet you, when they’d seen the object of their displays throwing her arms around their captain’s neck, planting a kiss on his sweaty cheek. You weren’t necessarily shy about looking at them in their various states of undress through the doorway; some shirtless, others holding a towel in front of themselves for modesty. But Cassian introducing you as his girlfriend didn’t stop their light-hearted remarks, though they were much less blatant now. For the most part. There was still the stray push of boundaries. Neither of you have ever told them to stop. Though you both enjoyed their feeble attempts, found them entertaining, there were times you noticed him get jealous, if his clenched jaw and reddening face were anything to go by.

Tarquin deftly maneuvers around an opponent with a small spin, sending ice shavings spraying, and you aren’t sure if the move is meant to distract or simply add some flourish. He looks up and winks at you with a nod. You roll your eyes with a small smile and the puck is once again in Cassian’s possession. He either doesn’t notice or simply doesn’t care. He drives forward, eyes locked on the goal. The goalie is ready, crouched and tense, but your boys have one last trick up their sleeves.

Cassian pulls his hockey stick back and thrusts it forward with such determination that you’re sure he’s going to take the shot. But he stops just short of the puck and in an instant pushes it left and back, where Azriel is perfectly positioned. He doesn’t hesitate, slamming the puck into the net with a force that sends it rattling.

The red light flashes. Goal.

You shoot up and cheer, your shouts blending with those of the fans all around you. Previous to this, so overtaken with nerves, all you’ve been able to do is sit tight with your arms crossed, eyes darting wildly across the rink. The jovial energy doesn’t last long though. They’re still down a point, and with only a little over a minute left now, their only chance is somehow scoring and going into overtime.

You scan the rink. The three forwards take their positions: Eris, red hair peeking from his helmet, grips his stick tightly at right wing; Azriel, ever the shadow to Cassian’s light, settles into place with calm readiness; and Cassian, commanding center ice with unmatched presence. Rhysand and Tarquin hover near the blue line, mirroring each other’s poised intensity on defense. If you were closer that way, you might be able to see their eyes darting across the ice, calculating every possible move. Helion stands sentinel before the net, gaze piercing and unwavering. Each a powerhouse, but none more commanding than Cassian at center ice.

His presence is commanding and magnetic. The weight of the game seems to rest on his broad shoulders, yet he bears it with a fierce determination you find both exhilarating and reassuring. His dark hair clings to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his eyes are locked on the opposition with a predator’s focus. You love this about him — the way he can command the rink with just a glance, the way his intensity electrifies the very air around him.

Off the rink, he’s just as intense in a different way: reliable, attentive, deeply devoted. The moments you share away from the chaos — quiet dinners, late-night talks, and his arms holding you close as you get drunk off of each other’s wandering hands and lips for hours — are a stark contrast to the warrior before you now. It’s this duality, this balance of strength and tenderness, that never ceases to intrigue you.

As the clock ticked down these last few plays, you could see the resolve settling in his eyes. He isn’t just playing for the team; he’s playing for you, for the life you’re building together.

Another loud cheer from the crowd pulls you back in, and you notice the Hellhounds have taken back possession of the puck and are rapidly approaching Helion at the goal. Rhysand intercepts a pass and carries it around the back of the goal to shoot the puck forward along the side of the rink. Where Eris is supposed to receive it, the Hellhounds’ center intercepts and, guarded by a winger on either side, plows back down the ice towards the Vipers’ goal. Their wingers do a decent job of clearing a path for him. He takes the shot, and Helion miraculously changes the trajectory of the puck with a paddle save that has the audience roaring and up on their feet again. Tarquin tries to take back possession but isn’t there quickly enough. The Hellhounds still have it and go for the shot again, this time bouncing the puck off the crossbar and away from the goal.

40 seconds left.

Cassian and Rhysand guard against their opponents while Azriel and Tarquin skillfully maneuver the puck down the ice, right between people’s skates at times. Tarquin is incredibly nimble and light on his feet for a defenseman, conducting several moves that force gasps from your lips, worried something would go wrong. He makes a pass to Eris right as he gets shoved into the wall by the Hellhounds’ defense.

26 seconds.

The redhead moves with a sort of confidence that seemingly makes the other team recoil momentarily. He commands the attention of every spectator, not only because he has possession but also because of his back-to-back evasions and fakeouts.

18 seconds.

Eris approaches the goal, all six opponents converging. Cassian skates up to the left, perfectly positioned for a play they’ve practiced countless times. A simple, effective strategy — Eris just needs to pass to Cassian for the shot. Cassian catches Eris’ eye, giving him a nod. He’s open.

But Eris shakes his head.

He backtracks, attempting to outmaneuver the defense. You glance at Cassian, seeing fury building in his eyes. Tarquin and Azriel are open too, but Eris isn’t looking that way. Rhysand and Helion wear expressions of anger tinged with resigned frustration.

6 seconds left. Eris circles behind the goal, clearly aiming to nudge the puck in around the post. You can already tell it won’t work — too many opponents, and Eris’ eyes are locked on you instead of the play. He slides the puck around the post and… straight into the goalie’s leg pads.

2 seconds. Cassian and Azriel make a desperate rush, but it’s futile. You sit with a sigh, putting your head in your hands. The buzzer blares. Game over. Hewn City Hellhounds win, 5 - 4.

You distantly hear the cries and shouts from the other side of the arena celebrating their team’s win, mingled in are the groans of frustration and defeat from around you. What the fuck was he thinking? They’d had the perfect opportunity. You look up just in time to see your boyfriend shove Eris into the wall a few feet down from where you sit, the glass letting you see just how his face smashes against it with the impact. The spectators around you cheer Cassian on, as they, too, are frustrated at the person who cost them the possibility of overtime.

Immediately after impact, Cassian skates back a few feet, throws his helmet and gloves off, and raises his fists. Eris mirrors the action after throwing down his stick. Cassian’s is discarded way back near the goal. There’s no going in circles to see who moves first; Cassian is on him, landing blow after blow to his face and head. His own face goes red with anger as he shouts what you assume to be chastising, scolding words at the other. You can’t hear anything above the crowd around you spurring him on. Across the ice, the rest of the team just watches, arms crossed and chests heaving.

Eris finally gathers himself, landing a left hook to Cassian’s jaw. He takes the opportunity to pull him down a bit by the hair and uses his other hand to keep punching. The refs are finally on their way to break it up, but both of their blood has already spilled onto the glass and ice. You strain to catch their words, curiosity flaring as Eris’ eyes flick to you, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. Whatever he said next had Cassian lunging forward with another barrage of punches.

As the refs finally near them, you decide you've seen enough and navigate your way out of the stands to the locker room entrance just as you always have at the end of their matches.

You’ve never seen him get like this. Sure, you’ve seen him get into a fight every now and then, after which he’d pout at you from the penalty box (if he wasn’t still too overcome with anger). But this? In-fighting? Never. He’s usually the one splitting the guys up. And though he gets into disagreement after disagreement with Eris, it’s never turned into this. You’re not even sure why it escalated so quickly — they’ve been doing really well this season and the playoffs are still months away. This was by no means a high-stakes game for them.

Just as you cross your arms over your chest and lean against the wall across from the locker room door, you hear the familiar cacophony that comes with lost games. You prefer it to the times they come back silent — the times the car ride home goes by without a word exchanged. Those are few and far in between, though.

The din of angry voices and clattering equipment grows louder as the team approaches. You straighten up, eyes fixed on the corridor’s entrance. When Cassian emerges, leading the group, your heart sinks. His jaw is clenched, gaze locked straight ahead with an intensity that makes you hesitate.

Still, you take a few steps towards him. “Cass,” you start, your voice barely audible above the commotion.

He doesn’t even blink. Cassian strides past you, the heat of his anger almost palpable as he disappears into the locker room. The door slams shut behind him, leaving you staring at its blank surface.

You're still processing when you feel a light touch at your waist. Azriel slides past you with a sympathetic nod. Helion follows, his hand ghosting across your lower back as he squeezes through. If you weren’t caught so off guard you may have leaned into their touch. Rhysand, ever the gentleman even in defeat, murmurs a quiet “Rough night, darling” as he moves around you.

“Think Cassian would mind if you played nurse?” Eris drawls, gesturing to his bruised face. He gives what would be a stunning smile if not for the blood staining his teeth. His eyes flicker to the locker room door, then back to you. “I promise I’d be a much more… grateful patient.” He lingers only a moment longer, and you’re sure he’d jump at the chance in a heartbeat if you gave the word, before sauntering into the locker room with a self-assured smirk.

You lean against the wall, arms crossed. The muffled sounds of frustration and anger seep through the locker room door, punctuated by the occasional crash of equipment being thrown. You check your phone, scrolling mindlessly through social media to distract yourself. Already, clips of the fight are circulating, fans dissecting every move, every punch. You decide to just put your phone back in your pocket.

The shouting inside gradually dies down, replaced by the sound of running water. Showers. You find yourself straining to hear any indication of Cassian’s mood, wondering if the shower is doing anything to cool his temper.

The corridor gradually empties as staff and other team personnel file out. You shift your weight from one foot to another, replying to texts to pass the time. The showers shut off one by one. You hear locker doors opening and closing, the murmur of subdued conversations. The guys eventually trickle out, hair still damp. They offer you tight smiles or brief nods as they pass, their usual post-game chatter noticeably absent. The weight of the loss and the fight hangs heavy in the air; even Eris walks past you without so much as a smirk.

“(Y/N).”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach at his tone — it’s commanding, and the raspiness from all the shouting in his already deep voice sends a conflicting shiver through you. It does nothing to calm your nerves, but ignites a different kind of tension altogether. You take a step off the wall as you respond.

“Yeah…?”

“Get in here.”

This better be fucking good, you think, but find yourself swallowing hard anyway. You push the door and step in, and if your breath wasn’t already stuck in your throat, you might have choked on it at the sight.

Cassian sits on one of the benches, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His elbows rest on his knees, hands hanging loose between them, and his damp hair partially obscures his face as he stares down at his calloused fingers.

You take a few tentative steps, stopping a few paces before the bench. The door finally shuts behind you, the loud click echoing in the otherwise silent room. Neither of you speak for long enough that you feel like you should say something, but when you open your mouth-

“Sit. And listen to me very carefully.”

His voice is low and measured, but the underlying tension is palpable. You lower yourself onto the bench across from him, heart pounding. His eyes lock onto you, dark and intense. He stands, closing the distance between you in two long strides. His towel now hangs dangerously low on his hips as he looms over you, still sitting on the bench.

“That game,” he growls, “was a disaster.”

You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, still flushed from the shower, as he leans down, placing his hands on either side of you on the bench. You have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His face is inches from yours, breath warm on your cheek.

“Eris blew it,” he continues, voice low and rough. “But y’know what? It wasn’t just him. The whole team was off today.” He leans in closer, his breath ghosting your ear. "And I think I know why."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes. His gaze roams over your face, over your surprise laden eyes, lingering on your lips before snapping back up.

"I saw the way they kept looking at you," he murmurs so quietly you can hardly hear him. "Tarquin missing easy passes, Azriel fumbling checks he'd usually nail." His free hand comes up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the touch feather-light and sending shivers down your spine. "Even Helion let in shots he'd normally block without breaking a sweat.” You can feel the tension coiling in Cassian's body, see the muscle in his jaw working as he clenches it.

"It's getting to be too much," he says, the hand that brushed your hair back now on your chin, tilting your face up to his. "The guys can't focus when you're here." His thumb brushes across your lower lip, and you can’t help but part your mouth open a bit at the touch. "Maybe I need to stop bringing you to these things. If you're going to keep distracting the team like this..."

His gaze intensifies, dark eyes boring into yours. He’s so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he speaks.

"We can't have that, can we, baby?"

The notion is absurd. Stop going to his games? Your brows furrow as you look at him incredulously. “That’s hardly my fault-”

“Didn’t I tell you to sit and listen!?” He shouts suddenly, his grip on your chin tightening. Your eyes shoot wide open, but not in surprise.

In understanding.

He’d never really talk to you like this, you both knew that. This was one of his games. And, oh, how you so loved playing them.

You keep the smirk from tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Funny, I thought you liked it when all eyes were on me.”

“I like it when they look. I don’t like it when they forget their place.”

Your breath catches, a mix of anticipation and desire. You can see the fire in his eyes, the barely contained jealousy and possessiveness. You lean in slightly, testing the boundaries. “And what exactly is their place, Cassian?” you ask, your voice low and teasing. “More importantly, what’s mine?”

His eyes narrow at your challenge, a dangerous smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He releases your chin, only to trail his fingers down your neck, coming to rest at your collarbone. The light touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. “Their place?” His eyes harden slightly. “To play hockey. Nothing more. I bring them some eye candy out of the kindness of my heart, and how do they repay me? By letting themselves get distracted and costing us games.” A sharp exhale.

“Your place?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear. Without warning, his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. The sudden grip is firm but not painful. Cassian steps over the bench in one fluid motion, his hold on you guiding you to turn with him. You instinctively follow his lead, twisting on the bench to face him and rising as he pulls you close. His movements are firm as he turns you both and directs you backward, until you feel the cool press of metal against your shoulders. With a gentle but insistent pressure, he keeps you pinned there, pushing his hips against your own. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans in, closing the distance between your lips.

The kiss is nothing romantic. It’s pure lust, disguised as frustration, as consequation. Where his words were clearly deliberate, his actions feign abandon. You match his intensity, your lips moving against his with equal fervor, your body arching into his touch. The grip on your hair remained, his other hand sliding slowly from your hip to your waist, then up again to your chest. He was like a starved man, grabbing onto whatever flesh he could get his hands on. The hand you didn’t have snaked around the back of his neck desperately explored every valley of his bare torso, products of his years playing the sport.

The sounds of heavy breaths and locking lips fill the room, grunts following not long after. Cassian lets out an especially depraved groan, rolling his head back, when you slide your hand down to squeeze him through the precariously wrapped towel. But when you move to pull it off, his own hand swats yours away.

“With what you did tonight, you think that’s allowed? You think you decide how this goes?” His words hang in the air, heavy with implication. You pause, processing his question, the sudden shift.

“What I did tonight?” you manage, your voice slightly breathless. “I didn’t do anything.”

Cassian’s laugh is low and humorless. “Didn’t do anything? Sweetheart… don’t play innocent.” His fingers tighten in your hair, making you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. “Every cheer, every jump, every little gasp… You put on quite the show, didn’t you?” He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “And don’t think I didn’t notice the way your eyes stuck to Eris. Tell me, did you like it when he blew you that kiss?”

Yes.

His gaze continues to burn into yours, a mix of jealousy and desire, as if he could somehow read the response in your eyes. “You’ve got the whole team wrapped around your finger and you know it.”

You steel yourself, meeting his gaze with an intense one of your own. “And so what if I do?” you challenge, voice steadier now. “I’m not responsible for how your team reacts to me. If they can’t keep their eyes on the game, maybe that’s on them.”

You lean in slightly, mimicking his earlier movement. “Or maybe it’s on you, Captain. Shouldn’t you be able to keep your team focused?” Something dangerous flashes through his eyes.

“You’re pushing boundaries you don’t fully understand.”

“Or maybe I understand them better than you think.” Your voice is steady despite the thrumming of your pulse.

“Understand this, then.” Your stomach flips. His eyes narrow, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Stirring up my team? That’s a direct shot at me, at my authority.”

You scoff, feigning incredulity. “Authority? If you had any authority, do you think they’d look at me the way they do, touch me the way they do?” A pause. “Did you think it ended with the showboating? No, baby, they put their hands on me so often I’m starting to forget what yours feel like.”

Of course he knew, noticed it early on and said nothing after discovering that neither of you truly minded.

“Helion seems to enjoy putting his hand on my lower back when he moves around me for a chance to ‘slip’ and cop a feel,” you continue. “Ever notice how Rhys almost always greets me with a hug? Squeezes me? Oh! And the way-”

“Enough.” Cassian’s voice cuts through your words like a blade, low and sharp. The hand that doesn’t still have a fistful of your hair in it shoots out to grasp the junction of your neck and shoulder, his calloused fingers feel like they’re searing into you. “You think I don’t see it all? See how they undress you with their eyes? How their fingers itch to trace every curve they imagine beneath your clothes?”

You feel a slight downward pressure, pushing on your shoulder, pulling on your hair. “But here’s what you’re missing, sweetheart. They might play at ownership, but at the end of the day, who do they answer to?”

He pulls back slightly, to really take in the sight of you. “Who do you answer to when the game’s over and the lights go down?”

The question hangs in the air between you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. Cassian’s gaze intensifies, his grip on your hair and shoulder tightening. “Because make no mistake,” he continues, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, and the downward force he’s inflicting on you growing steadily. “This little game you’re playing? It ends when I say it does.”

The pressure on your shoulder increases, his intent clear. You resist for a moment longer, but the fire in his eyes, the set of his jaw… His command is clear. Though you have half a mind to resist, a thrill runs through you, making your heart beat faster and your breath hitch slightly. The sheer possessiveness in his gaze is enough to make your knees weak.

Slowly, inexorably, he guides you downward, your body responding almost involuntarily to the authoritative tone and the heat of his voice. You look up at him from your new position, the sight of him towering over you sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes hold yours captive as he looms above you. You’re aware of how your breathing quickens with anticipation, how Cassian’s throat bobs as he watches you. He’s still holding your hair, and you can tell he’s enjoying the submission he’s coaxed from you, his gaze a mix of satisfaction and barely restrained desire.

That grip tightens a fraction as he leans into you, his other hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing a path along your lower lip, but different from before. Where his last touch there had been gentle and barely there, this one is firm and deliberate.

Cassian’s voice, when he finally speaks, is low and rough. “Open,” he commands, the single word laden with authority and promise.

You shudder as his command rolls over you, your body responding without conscious thought. Your lips part slightly in response to his order. His gaze is fixed intently on your face. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. His thumb traces along the curve of your lower lip with deliberate slowness, a firmness matching that of his eyes. For a heartbeat, he applies the gentlest pressure, slipping it into your mouth for a moment, his eyes locked on yours. “Now be a good girl and stay just like that for me.”

You hold yourself still, holding his gaze as you keep your mouth open, your tongue instinctively darting out to moisten your lower lip when he pulls his hand away. He finally releases your hair and it’s an effort to contain your sigh of relief. You hear more than see the towel fall from his hips to the floor. The same fingers that gripped your face moments ago now wrap around his girth, absently stroking the already-hard length of it. His pupils are dilated at the sight of you obediently holding yourself still, your mouth open, and he can barely restrain the hunger that’s been building in him.

Cassian’s large hand cradles your jaw, drawing you even closer. His presence is overwhelming, and as he aligns himself with your mouth, there’s no warning before he thrusts in. Initially, his movements are slow, almost deceivingly gentle, but you realize too late it’s quite the opposite. Halfway in, you manage, but as he pushes to the hilt, he does so painfully slowly. You try to relax, your throat attempting to accommodate him. The slow withdrawal is worse, your breath ragged as you inhale through your nose.

He pulls out slowly, leaving you gasping for air. He looks down at you with a mix of confusion and pity. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Struggling already. I thought you could handle more.”

You meet his gaze, eyes watering but defiant. You want to tell him that you can, that he knows you can, but when you make to speak, the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk, and he pushes back in, a little faster this time. “Is this what you wanted, baby? To be on your knees, taking me like this?”

He thrusts deeper, making you choke slightly. Cassian groans, a low rumble of a sound that reverberates through you. “That’s why you acted out, distracted my guys, huh? You just wanted me to give you a little attention.” He picks up the pace, each thrust more forceful yet. “Bet you think about this all the time,” he growls. “When you’re watching us play, you’re not watching the game, are you? No… You’re staring at Azriel’s tight, perfect ass, aren’t you? I see the way you watch him.” You can only moan in response. Cassian’s fingers slip into your hair on either side, holding your head back against the lockers, his movements becoming relentless.

“And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes go to Helion between plays, when he takes his helmet off. You love how big he is, how powerful. You get off on watching him, don’t you?” The tension between you both is palpable, but his eyes are fixated on you, a storm of emotions swirling within them. “I see you staring whenever any of them are in the penalty box. You’re not thinking about the game then, are you? Bet you wish you were in there with them. You’re probably thinking about Tarquin’s pretty blue eyes, you want him to pin you with that look, don’t you? Or Rhys’s hands, wanting them all over you. And Eris,” he spits out the name, pairs it with a particularly rough thrust of his hips. “You eat up the way he flexes his arms when he flirts with you, I know you do.” The locker room fills with the sounds of your shared breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the harsh whisper of his voice.

Each name, each accusation, sends a wave of shame through you. You want to deny it all, but Cassian’s relentless pace and your restrained position make it impossible. The truth is, you do think about those things — more often than you’d ever admit. The thoughts swirl in your mind, but they never take away from the attention you give Cassian. You’re most often fixated on him during games, your eyes unabashedly stuck on the way his body moves. The powerful stride of his legs, the way his strong hands grip the stick, the intense focus in his eyes. Your mind almost always lands on thoughts of his sweat-slicked skin, the hard lines of his body beneath the uniform. Your desire for him gets overwhelming, which is why the current activity is typically the one of choice after these games.

This was the first time you hadn’t waited until home though.

He continues, his movements relentless. “You know what Eris told me out there, baby? Who am I kidding, of course you don’t, you were too busy entertaining the rest of the guys, isn’t that right?” You try to respond, but choke on his length, his brutal pace bruising the back of your throat. “Isn’t that right? Answer me (Y/N),” he growls, keeping your head firmly pressed against the lockers.

You try to answer, but all you can manage is an unintelligible garble, gagging as you attempt to speak. If there weren’t already tears in your eyes from the physical strain, there certainly would be after hearing his cold, short laugh.

“Can’t even own up to it,” Cassian tsks. “He told me that you,” he punctuates the ‘you’ with a particularly deep thrust, “have been running around telling them all how badly you want them. That you give them fuck-me eyes when I’m not around. Is that true, baby? Have you been going behind my back? Want them to pass you around and take turns with you?” At each question he pulls almost all the way out, slamming back in soon after. You manage a quick shake of your head before his grip tightens on it again. You can only look up at him with your tear-brimmed, pleading eyes. “No, I didn’t think so,” he murmurs, a thumb grazing soothingly across your cheek. You may have taken comfort in it if you didn’t know any better.

“I knew you wouldn’t say those things,” he says calmly, but suddenly pulls himself out and leans over you, forcing your head up to look at him. “But you think them, don’t you?”

You’re still trying to gasp in air as you fight to respond. “No,” but you don’t sound convincing. Not when your voice is so hoarse. “No, I promise, I never said those things — never thought them either.” You’re coughing, trying to regain your composure, and you’re grateful he gives you a moment.

“Take off your pants,” he orders suddenly, the command sending a jolt of anticipation through you. You stand slowly, and your hands tremble slightly as you obey, slipping out of your pants and kicking them aside. His eyes rake over your body, lingering on the sight of his jersey hanging loosely on you, the contrast between the oversized shirt and your bare legs making his pupils dilate with desire. “Keep it on,” he adds when you reach for it. Cassian leans forward, now eye-level with you.

“Come on,” he breathes out, a hand snakes under the jersey and onto your bare hip, those calloused fingers squeezing. “You can’t honestly tell me you don’t think about them. How their hands would feel if they were running up your thighs, grabbing your hips, pulling you close.” His actions mirror his words deliciously, and his words pour over you in a dangerous whisper, the heat of his breath against your ear sending a shiver down your spine. “About how it would feel to have their hands squeezing and groping you wherever they wanted. How about if instead of stealing little touches here and there, they grew some fucking balls, grabbed you by the hips,” his fingers dig in firmly, and you catch him tilt his chin to his shoulder, a glimpse of his true nature shining through the silent signal to grab on, “and lifted you up like this?”

You barely have a moment to grab on when, with a swift, powerful motion, Cassian lifts you up, pressing you against the lockers. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and your arms around his neck as he holds you there, his body pinning yours and his hands holding you up by your ass. The cold metal of the lockers contrasts with the heat from both of your bodies. You try to arch away from it, but only manage to push yourself flush against him, feeling the undeniable hardness of him pressing against your core, a reminder of how desperately you both want this. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through you, making you gasp and tighten your grip around his neck.

You want to deny it, to insist that your thoughts are innocent, but the intensity of his gaze tells you he wouldn’t believe you. You swallow hard, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue, as you shake your head once more, more for your own reassurance than his.

“It’s not like that…” you plead, trying to catch your breath, eyes wide with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. “I��” Your voice falters, the words stuck in your throat. “You don’t understand.”

Cassian’s eyes narrow, his grip tightening ever so slightly. You knew there would be bruises later. “Enlighten me,” he growls.

You take a breath. “When I watch you out there, all I can think about is how much I want you,” you confess. “The way you move, the way you lead and command everything… It drives me crazy. They’re just petty distractions. You’re the one I can’t resist. The one I crave,” you assure him, moving the stray hair from his eyes. ��You’re the one I want, Cassian. Only you, you know that.”

His expression softens, as do his fingers on your skin, his intense gaze seeming to melt as he absorbs your words. He leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with your own. “Maybe you’re right,” he murmurs, his voice tender, almost vulnerable. “Maybe I’ve been too harsh.” A hand rubs your side soothingly under the jersey, making its way up to massage your breast.

You smile softly, but just as you begin to feel a sense of relief, his grip on you tightens again, a bit painful on your breast. There’s a familiar, dangerous glint in his eyes. “But then again,” he whispers, “I can’t just ignore the way you look at them, baby. I can’t let that go with a few sweet words from those pretty lips of yours,” he catches your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling softly before releasing it. “You like their attention, being desired by them. Just admit it.”

You hesitate, your mind torn between denial and the undeniable truth. Unable to look him in the eyes, you nod slowly. Your voice is barely a whisper when you speak. “I do…”

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs, voice low and pensive. He presses you harder against the lockers, his hands roaming over you slowly, almost absently. “Enjoy it all you want, but don’t you dare let them think they have a chance. You know who I mean.”

Your heart races as you nod, whispering, “Eris.” It was obvious.

Cassian frowns. “It wasn’t a question,” he snaps. “I let you play these pathetic little games of yours, but don’t think for a second that it’s an invitation to have another man’s name on your lips while I’m inside you.”

With a sharp, forceful movement, he thrusts into you, the suddenness making you cry out, the sound bouncing through the tiled room. “Do you understand?” he demands, and you nod again, vigorously this time, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the fullness.

Without another word, he finally captures your mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue gliding over yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. His hands slide down to your thighs, and he begins to move against you. There was nothing soft or caring about it, the motions unyielding and powerful. His hands grip you tightly as he fucks you into the cold metal of the lockers, his thrusts hard and deep.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is harsh and taunting. “To be fucked like this, right here where anyone could walk in? You think about this every time you see them, don’t you?” That’s when you remember that you are, in fact, in a place where anyone could find you like this. A blush rises to your cheeks at the realization, and you can tell he gets off on your embarrassment when he fails to suppress a smirk. You try grounding yourself by grabbing him wherever you can, hands out of his hair and grasping at his shoulders, nails digging in. “I know you like teasing them,” he continues, voice little more than a rumble. “Making them think they have a chance. They’ll never have you like this, (Y/N).”

His pace quickens, and he speaks into your neck. “Tarquin mentioned how you blush every time he catches you staring. What do you think about when you look at him, hm?” But you’re a mess, so lost in pleasure you can hardly process he’s asked you a question until he bites down on the crook of your neck. He doesn’t wait for your response, however, before he continues. “And Helion said you can’t keep your eyes off his arms. Is that what you want? You want his arms wrapped around you?” He changes his rhythm suddenly, now pulling out all the way to the tip before ramming back in.

“Do you understand how fucking embarrassing it is,” he starts, voice cold, barely heard over your screams and moans, “to have my team—my friends—telling me how they catch you practically drooling at them, that you’d take them over me if you got the chance?” You shake your head adamantly at that.

“No, Cass, you know that isn’t true!” You try to keep your voice even, to be taken seriously, but the lewd sounds in the air of him pounding your soaked, dripping cunt don’t do anything to help. It’s hard to continue when he leans down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue dancing across the sensitive skin. “No one could fuck me as good as you do,” you breathe out, and you hope the moans cutting through your words are indication enough of it. “You’re the only one I want, the only one who makes me feel like this,” you manage to say between gasps. “They mean nothing compared to you.”

He appears to consider your words and you think he might be convinced, but nothing changes. Other than, perhaps, the smirk on his lips. “You know what Azriel told me while he was leaving? He asked if I needed any help with you in here. Can you believe that, baby?” His thrusts grow even more intense. “He had the nerve to ask me if he could join in…” A scoff. “As if I’d let him touch you. As if I’d share you with anyone else.”

“Don’t want anyone else,” you murmur, eyes going unfocused from the overwhelming sensation of it all, but he speaks over you, seemingly not having heard you. Nevermind the thought that they all likely knew what would transpire in this room after they left. You hoped it was only Azriel, with how observant he was.

“I can’t blame him though, can’t really blame any of them. It’s not their fault you’re such a sneaky fucking tease. It’s a wonder they don’t feel entitled to you yet…”

His words sting, but they also go straight to your cunt, and you feel yourself clench around him. His possessiveness, his dominance — it’s intoxicating. You try to respond, but your breath is practically forced out of your lungs with a loud moan as his pace quickens again.

“Look at you,” he continues, his voice dripping with anger and desire. “Barely able to form a sentence. Does it turn you on, knowing they all want you? Knowing that I’m the only one who gets to have you like this?”

You manage a shaky nod, and quip back. “I know it turns you on, how much you keep mentioning them.” It catches him off guard, your short moment of lucidity. For a brief second, he stills, eyes widening in surprise before narrowing again, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, you think you’re fucking clever,” he murmurs. “I know what you’re doing,” his nails dig into your skin as he thrusts into you, making you cry out, “and it won’t work.”

He shifts slightly, angling his hips to hit a spot inside you that makes you gasp in pleasure, hands scrambling for purchase on him, on the lockers, on yourself. The sound echoes through the locker room, mingling with the existing ones.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, I’m all yours, Cassian. Only yours, please!”

He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his tone softening for just a moment before he resumes his relentless pace. “Again. Louder.”

“I’m yours!” you cry out desperately. “Only yours!” You find yourself wondering if there’s anyone left in the building, if they can hear you. You subsequently decide you don’t care. His eyes flicker down to the jersey number stretched across your chest, and a satisfied smirk forms across his lips. “Look at you, wearing my number,” his eyes are full of pride.

You nod, lips parting with a moan. “Wanted to show everyone who I’m here for. I belong to you, Cassian.”

“Damn right, you do,” he mutters, his movements becoming more desperate than forceful. You know your boyfriend well enough to know he’s getting close. Each thrust, combined with that knowledge, sends waves of pleasure through your body. “I want to hear you, baby,” he demands, his voice strained with need.

“Cassian!” you scream, your voice hoarse, broken by moans and cries. “Cassian, please!”

His breath puffs against your neck as he groans your name in return. The sound of your combined moans and skin against skin echoes off the walls. And with a particularly powerful thrust, he empties himself into you, your cries mingling when he doesn’t stop.

“That’s it, baby,” you whisper to him, running your hands through his hair soothingly, coaxing him through his orgasm. He shudders against you, his grip on you gradually loosening. For a moment, he rests his forehead against yours, panting heavily, his breath ragged. As the adrenaline rush fades, Cassian’s breathing slows, the intensity in his eyes softening. Slowly, he pulls out, leaving you feeling achingly empty.

But before you can protest, he lowers you to the ground, drops to his knees, and pulls one of your legs over his shoulder to rest your foot on the bench behind him. His hands slide down your thighs, feeling the mix of your arousal and his seed. “You didn’t think I’d leave you like this, did you?” he murmurs, voice filled with a renewed hunger. His mouth descends on you without warning, his tongue gliding over your sensitive flesh, tasting both of you. The sudden jolt of pleasure makes you gasp, your hands flying to his hair as he works you.

Cassian looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire as he devours you. “You taste so fucking good,” he says against you, the vibrations against your clit drawing a moan from you. His tongue works with relentless precision, each flick and swirl drawing out gasps and moans from you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as he devours you. You can feel the roughness of his calloused fingers digging into your skin.

You clutch at his hair, your fingers tangling in the damp strands as you pull him closer. You rut your hips against his face, seeking more pressure, more friction. Every movement of his tongue sends shivers up your spine, your body responding to him with a need that borders on desperation. He knows exactly how to push you, bringing you close before pulling back, leaving you teetering on the brink of insanity.

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a fierce determination. “I want to hear you,” he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his breath hot and tantalizing. “Say my name.”

“Cassian,” you moan, your voice trembling with the intensity of your need. “Please, don’t stop.”

He smirks, lips curving against you as he doubles his efforts. His tongue plunges deeper, his hands squeezing your thighs tighter as he pulls you even closer. You can feel the building pressure, the coil of pleasure tightening inside you, ready to snap.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Good fucking girl… Come for me.”

With those words and a final flick of his tongue, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you. Your body convulses, your cries echoing off the tiled walls as you ride out the waves of pleasure. Cassian doesn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your release until you’re a trembling, boneless mess in his arms.

Finally, he pulls back, his lips glistening with a mix of your juices and his satisfaction. You feel his warmth spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he rises to his feet. His eyes blaze with a dark, possessive fire as he takes in your thoroughly spent form. There’s no need for words; the look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

Remember this, his look seems to say. Remember what happened here.

You meet his gaze, your own eyes still hazy with the aftermath of your climax. There’s no need for further declarations or reassurances; the intensity of what just transpired speaks for itself.

#velarisdusk hockey au #acotar #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #hockey au #hockey player au #hockey player cassian #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #smut #cassian smut #tagging stuff is so embarrassing for no reason #i've hesitated posting this for DAYS now omgomg #have had to edit this like 5 times now for typos

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thisblogisaboutabook · 11 months ago

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Rainy Season - Part 5

I Want Crazy

Azriel Eris x Reader

After a promotion to an emissary position by a meddling Tarquin, Y/N and Eris get much, much closer.

A/n: There will likely only be a couple more chapters of this fic. For those of you concerned by the previous chapter, please continue to trust the process. Our girl is intelligent.

Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: Language, brief mention of fertility struggles

Our first date, the seasons changed. It got washed away in a summer rain

He wasn’t what I expected, Eris Vanserra. Not that I ever fathomed what to expect or even considered it. In fact there was only a very short list of things I knew prior to the day we met:

-He was a High Lord.

-He’d been a secretive ally of the Night Court prior to his father’s demise.

-Azriel fucking hated him.

And after that day I knew everything I needed to:

-He was warm beyond the fire in his veins

-He was a just ruler

-He had a dry wit that sat well with my soul.

-I wanted to see him again.

After dancing that night, we ran back to Tarquin’s palace in the rain. It was the first time I’d been unable to contain my joy in far too long. I laughed, and skipped, and spun in circles the whole way back. Eris grumbled the entire way but I could see the amusement lit in his eyes. The next morning he met me for breakfast and found me again before he left for the Autumn Court.

He began finding reasons to visit the Summer Court more frequently and sought me out every time. It was no time before Eris became a close friend.

Tarquin - ever the cheeky, wonderful bastard - only gave me knowing smiles when he’d catch us walking the palace grounds. According to Cresseida, The High Lord of the Summer Court was quite the romantic and had a knack for playing matchmaker. I was inclined to agree considering that after a month of spotting Eris and I around the grounds, Tarquin made a proposition to me. I could still teach my classes but he needed a temporary emissary to the Autumn court as they negotiated border, trade, and tariff agreements. Given my recent closeness with the High Lord of Autumn and overall wonderful (debatable) disposition, he found me to be the perfect candidate. With that, I found myself on official court business in the Autumn Court.

Who cares if you’re all I think about?

I was nervous on the first visit to Autumn. I knew things were different under Eris’ reign but the stories of Beron’s cruelty within his own keep were enough to warrant a bit of caution.

My worries were quickly cast aside when Eris personally escorted me from the border and to his keep. The Autumn Court was stunning. The leaves on the trees were brighter than I’d ever seen. The hues ranging from gold to red absolutely stunning. I’d love to have Feyre one day paint it for me.

Smells of roasting chestnuts, hickory smoke, crisp leaves, apple cider, and autumn air filled my nose. On the way, Eris stopped by a small farm where the owner allowed us to pick what Eris called the finest Honeycrisp apples in all of Prythian. I’d never had that variety before and though I had nothing to compare them against, the apples had the perfect crunch and just the right ratio of tart and sweet. He paid the farmer handsomely for a bucket of them and several pie pumpkins for his kitchens.

The Autumn Keep was far from the drab stone castle that I’d pictured. Eris clearly went to great strides to ensure the ghost of Beron Vanserra had no hold here. The grand rooms were filled with maple accents, rugs and tapestries with hues greens, golds, oranges and reds. Fires roared in massive fireplaces and autumnal spices filled the air.

And despite the beauty of the keep. I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes off of the tall, handsome redhead walking alongside me.

Once I was settled for the stay, we did meet to discuss political matters which took countless hours, but I was rather impressed with the ease of our negotiations. He and Tarquin had similar visions for the economic future within their courts.

We enjoyed dinner together, indulged in autumnal wines, including a hot mulled wine that flushed my cheeks. Or so I told Eris that was the reason for the blush on my features, and certainly not the way way he’d refer to me as “my lady” or “little fox.”

We’d stayed up late, sitting by a bon fire outside beneath the Autumn Skies. There was music and dancing, spiked ciders, and caramel apples. I could see why Eris loves his court.

We, of course, kept respectful distance from eachother as not to spark any gossip of anything more than friendship between he and I. Yet somehow, hours later, we found ourselves in a private courtyard - a small fire burning as we lay back on a blanket together. I began to shiver as the evening chill grew cooler. As I went to bid Eris goodnight and head for the warmth within Castle Walls, he halted me.

“Come here” he spoke. His voice low.

I scooted a bit closer.

“Come closer, little fox. I won’t bite.”

He refrained from adding “unless you ask me to” but that was readable enough in his heavy lidded gaze.

So I laid beside him, my head nestled between his chest and shoulder as his heat warmed my body. I showed him various constellations that I’d learned of during my time in the Night Court and he did a terrible job of visualizing them. He tried though. He told me how he used to wish on shooting stars, how he still found himself occasionally wishing upon them. I teared up when he told me of the wishes he’d made back then for his mother and Lucien, for himself, to one day escape Beron’s cruelty. For a better life. A better Court.

When we saw a shooting star later, he made a wish and told me it was bad luck to tell someone else the wish.

And I, despite everything that had turned upside down in life, found myself struggling to ask for anything more than what I had in that moment.

When we finally said goodnight I realized his own suite was right next to the one he had set me up in.

I woke in a sweat sometime hours before dawn. Pain ripping through my chest. Azriel once again pulling on the fucking bond with no regard for the feelings of despair he was shoving to me. This time was worse than usual, the waves of grief continuing to grow stronger and stronger all the time. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t deserve this. This was a bed of his own making and yet I still had to suffer beyond what I’d already been through. Sleeping through it was futile and the room’s darkness began to suffocate me.

I padded from my room to a common area outside of the suites, sat before the fireplace and worked on breathing through it.

Though I tried my best to remain quiet, Eris apparently had a sharp sense of hearing as he wandered into the room, seating himself on the floor beside me. If I hadn’t been in such a sorry state, perhaps I would have noticed the low slung gray sweatpants and broad muscled chest of the half-naked High Lord- no, friend - beside me.

He took my hand. “Hey, fox, look at me.” I lifted my gaze to his. “You’ve got this. Breathe for me.” I took a shallow breath. “Can you breathe deeper for me, little one?” He placed a hand on my shoulder while the other remained on my hand. I took a deeper breath and let it out slowly.

“Good girl.”

Eris sat with me in silence on a plush couch once my breathing steadied. Still too worked up to fall back asleep, I nestled myself against Eris’ chest while his fingers ran through my hair in soothing, repetitive strokes.

It was hours later that I awoke, finding that I’d fallen asleep on him. I tried shifting away slowly but a sleeping Eris only held his arm around me tighter as I pulled. We slept like that a while longer.

The rest of the trip went by uneventfully. We discussed further trade options and Eris spent the evenings working with me on how to close off the bond to Azriel’s feelings. While I was already excellent at shutting down sending my feelings down the bond, cutting off his feelings was what I needed help with. By the end of the stay I could only feel his emotions slightly.

I expressed my gratitude to Eris who only waived off my thanks. “Anyone would have done it.” Yet he was the only one who tried. What I didn’t tell Eris was that as Azriel’s end of the bond silenced and the depths of my soul went from overflowing to filled with contentment, my thoughts began drifting to happier things, drifted to him.

Front porch and one more kiss. It doesn't make sense to anybody else.

The fifth month after I left, my grandparents held an outdoor feast for our family and friends in celebration of a holiday of one of the lesser Summer gods they worshipped.

It was far from a religious event. There was always wine, dancing, and lively conversation at these celebrations with none of the boring sermons that typically came with such events.

I invited Eris, and to my delight he came. My drunken sister made plenty of comments over how pretty of a pair of “friends” we made, with overemphasis on the word. My sweet, protective nephew took to Eris right away, deciding that after what Azriel put me through, anyone was better than him. He had no tolerance for cheating or sympathy for adulterers from the time he was old enough to understand what it meant and that his father had cheated on my sister during her pregnancy (real stand up guy) though my sister was so far out of his league that he’d have to reach the stars to find someone better. Obviously she’d left him immediately and she and my nephew were better off for it.

My family tried their best and failed miserably to act normal with the High Lord of the Autumn Court in their presence. Fortunately, Eris paid no mind and had won everyone over by the end of the night.

Despite his aversion to the sand, Eris accepted my invitation to camp on the beach so we could enjoy my favorite part of the night, the fireworks shooting off over the bay.

As the finale approached, I pouted.

“I hate when they end.”

Gesturing toward himself, Eris replied. “It’s a good thing you have a High Lord at your disposal to light up the night any time you wish.”

Before I could reprimand him for the crude comment, he began shooting small orbs of fire toward the water in a rainbow of colors.

My eyes sparkled watching the vibrant flares. Soon enough the orbs into butterflies of fire flying through the air, some circling around me. One brushed my cheek and there was no pain, just a gentle flutter.

“That’s… Just wow, that’s incredible, Eris!”

He gave a shrug of nonchalance in return.

“I bet you do that for all the ladies, don’t you?”

Eris looked me in the eyes, something unreadable in them.

“Only the ones I want to kiss.”

A moment passed before I realized that he was entirely serious.

And that I WANTED to kiss him.

So I did.

We kissed under the stars. It was a hard, passionate kiss, our shared breaths riddled with desperation, a profession of the unspoken words between us, “I’ve been waiting for this.”

And when we eventually pulled apart, I looked into his eyes with a smile, genuine, full of adoration, and Eris gently grasped the back of my head, pulling me into another searing kiss.

We shared many more before dawn.

You can’t undo a fall like this.

When Eris returned to the Autumn Court, I tried feeling any remorse for what we’d done. I was technically still a mated female, though I’d left and due to Azriel’s infidelity nobody expected me to honor the bond.

The guilt never came.

Eris had to travel so I wasn’t able to see him for the next couple weeks but we wrote back and forth often through enchanted notes. Curiosity or concern must have gotten the best of him because eventually he asked:

“Do you regret it?”

I knew exactly what he referred to.

“I regret many things, Eris. None of which pertain to you.”

I sent the letter to him with confidence. I did not regret a single thing about the night our lips collided on the beach.

“Thank the Mother, because I need to kiss you again.”

Heat radiated through me at his admission.

But then reality struck. He was the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I was the - separated, yes, but still - the mate of the Night Court’s Spymaster.

“Eris, I love spending time with you and will never regret it. You’ve helped me heal in ways I will never be able to repay you for. But this… how can this work? It’s messy.”

I sent the letter. My own heart crushing at the words. I didn’t want this to end but I couldn’t risk it going further just for reality to come crashing down on us.

Some time passed, the unease in my gut growing when his response appeared.

“If I wanted easy, I’d have married the daughter of some Autumn Lord. Nothing about my past has been easy and despite what some may believe, nothing worth having has come easily to me. Every second spent with you is worth it. Do not, Y/N, doubt that for one single moment. And perhaps this is crazy, but I would not want it any other way.”

It was that moment that I knew I wanted, I needed Eris as more than a friend.

“Then let’s be crazy, Eris Vanserra.”

I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"

The thing about immortality is that six months can bring more change than six decades or even centuries.

Six months ago I would have never dreamed that my mate would take the life we’d built over the years and tear it into shreds with those once sacred, beautiful scarred hands that I held reverently. The hands that placed the lovely mating band crafted from one of his own siphons on my finger after he’d made his vows, the hands that lovingly caressed my bare thighs through restless nights until sleep took me, hands that held me pressed to his chest and wiped away the tears of grief after yet another failed fertility cycle.

Those hands that held another and damned it all, the hands that came home and stroked my hair as pretty lies fell from his mouth, the hands that took my glass heart and dropped it.

I especially wouldn’t have dreamed that six months later I would be laying in the bed of the High Lord of the Autumn Court with his strong, warm hands holding me like this heart of mine that he’d forged anew was the most delicate, precious possession in his keep.

I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"

We’d spent the night together making love. The kind of love making that shifts something intrinsic within a person, the type where no matter what happens, a piece of you is forever changed. It was more than just giving my body to him, it was a claiming of the soul.

We lay in bed all morning, his long fingers tracing along the arch of my bare back as he pressed soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Between kisses, his low voice whispered quiet hopes and dreams for the future.

I was just about to speak those three words that I’d only ever spoken to one other male when a loud knock came on the chamber door.

“For fuck’s sake” Eris muttered before shouting “Come back later!”

“We apologize, High Lord but this is urgent.” a muffled male voice replied through the closed door.

Eris growled, shifting out of bed and throwing on his sweatpants not bothering with a shirt. I enjoyed the view.

“This better be worth my while, lads.” Eris hissed in a tone that conveyed “I’m very fucking inconvenienced right now but understand that you are doing your duty as my sentries.”

“Apologies again, High Lord, but we’ve….”

The male outside the door cleared his throat in attempt to communicate that the matter should be discussed privately.

“It’s fine.” Eris grumbled. “Just get on with it.”

“We, well, High Lord, we’ve apprehended the Shadowsinger. He was making an attempt to infiltrate the keep.”

———————————

@going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious

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daydreaming-nerd · 1 year ago

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The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 2

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: omg guys the love part 1 received has been so amazing. I seriously am so happy you're all loving this fic as much as me. As someone who hasn't written in so long it's been so fufilling to write this. Thank you for all the kind words. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring.

Warnings (so far): SA, starting to get a little steamy

Word count: 2704

(all photos are from pinterest)

The next morning I woke with a certain lightness to my step that I knew shouldn’t be there. My hands skimmed over the countless dresses looking for just the right one. All of the sudden I had started caring more about my appearance for council meetings. Deep down I know why.

I meet my brother and Lucien in the foyer per usual, and I feel Lucien’s fiery gaze rake over the lavender chiffon draped over my body. I told myself that I had selected the revealing dress because of how hot the Day court was, but I think I had other motives backing my choice.

The Day Court, like all other courts, was utterly beautiful. Large pillars stood all around and like the summer court it was entirely open air, allowing the sunlight and breeze to float into the room. I sit between Lucien and Tamlin at a large table with the other High Lord’s and nobility. My eyes scan the room for a hint of that violet that I dreamt about last night but I don’t find it. It isn’t until a few minutes later, when my skin starts buzzing, that the High Lord of Night steps into the room. His presence commending, his eyes immediately finding mine.

I feel him pluck at the bond as if to say hello. After speaking to him through my mind for so long it was almost strange to see him in real life. Somehow he was always much more handsome in person. Like no matter how many times I tried to put together the image of his face at night it never compares to the sheer glory and presence of him.

As Helion began speaking a voice crawled into my head.

I’m glad you find me so glorious, darling.

“Shh you nosey High Lord. I’m trying to listen,” I silence him and to my surprise he obliges.

Helion talks on and on and of course there is arguing between Kallias and Beron as there usually is but I couldn’t begin to tell you what about. I spend the entire meeting noticing every move the High Lord of Night made. When he breathed, or flexed his hands, adjusted his spot on his seat. Whenever I felt his eyes sliding over to me I would do my best to evade them.

See something you like? I look over to him and find his eyes smirking.

“Yeah actually, Eris is looking especially delicious today,” I tease, I don’t break eye contact with him.

He chuckles brushing off my comment. You’re a vision in purple mate, but if Lucien looks at your cleavage one more time I might just leap across the table and rip his only good eye out.

“So violent,” I muse disapprovingly, looking towards where Kallias is speaking about potential war with Hybern.

I save my most brutal acts of violence for those who seek to harm you darling. My eyes flit back at him and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he averts his gaze back to Kallias.

“Enough talk of war my friends, let us adjourn this meeting until next week.” Helion finally says, causing the rest of the council to let out a breath.

Tamlin doesn’t say a word before he and Lucien stand and make a beeline to Tarquin, most likely to talk about problems we’ve been having on the border. I take it as my queue to walk around the Day Court’s terrace and I secretly hope that a certain High Lord follows me.

The Day Court and the Summer Court are like twin sisters. Except the Day Court always felt like liquid gold. All around me I could see clouds and honeyed sunlight peeking through the them. The rays warmed my skin as I basked in them, leaning against one of the many large pillars.

“I knew you’d look amazing in this light,” drawled that voice I had secretly wanted to hear.

I glance over to find The High Lord admiring me, the light of the Day Court doing wonders for him as well. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, trying to act like I mean it.

“Yet you wanted me to follow you,” he smirks knowingly, slowly stepping towards me.

“What makes you say that?”

“This,” he says, pulling on the bond again. I take a sharp breath in and he chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that reaction.”

“I really hate it when you do that,” I grumble.

“No you don’t,” he muses using one arm to cage me into the pillar I’m leaning against.

“Yes I do,” I affirm. His other hand lifts my chin to meet his stare.

“No you don’t, you don’t hate anything about me. In fact you think I’m beautiful,” he smirks, somehow stepping even closer to me. “And, you want me to touch you right now, your skin is practically on fire for it.”

“My Lord-”

“I told you to call me Rhysand,” he cuts me off. I want to lie and tell him no, I want to push him away but I fear that even the action of me touching his chest, even for a moment, would be too much for me to bear.

“Rhys,” I breathe out. Before I can even think his lips are on mine swallowing the breath that held his name, just like he promised.

The kiss is hot and needy, built up from the last two weeks of torture. One of his hands finds my face while the other finds my waist. His frame presses me into the pillar behind me. I feel my body ignite in a way I didn’t know possible, I need him closer. I pull on the lapels of his jacket earning a low grumble from him.

“Say it again,” he says between kisses.

“Rhysand,” I moan, his name like a prayer on my lips.

“Fuck,” he groans before sliding a hand down under my knee and hoisting it up to wrap around his waist. The slit in my dress parted for him, giving him full access to my bare leg. I feel his lips drag across my neck leaving opened mouth kisses on me. I practically come undone for him, the only thing keeping me upright are his hands and the pillar behind me.

In the distance I can hear footsteps clicking across the floor, in a panic I winnow both of us further away. He breaks apart the kiss and gives me a bewildered look.

“Sorry, someone was coming,” I say breathlessly.

“Let them see,” he grins before stepping closer to me. I take a step back and he halts his movements, surprised.

“We can’t, my brother will kill me, kill you.” I remind him.

He lets out a chuckle like he’s completely unphased, “I promise you that I hold more power in my pinky than Tamilin does in his entire body.” he boasts.

“Still,” I start. “You’re the High Lord of the Night Court, his sworn enemy, my court's sworn enemy. Think of what they would say about me if the truth came out. What they would say about you. You’d be the monster who stole away the princess of spring.” I ramble.

“I’ve been called a monster by those who know nothing but stories of me my whole life, what’s one more?” he states.

“I’ve heard stories of your court, that it’s the part of Prythian where the most feared monsters and beings of our kind reside,” I say fearfully. I start to remember who he is. Not just a pretty face, but the High Lord of the Night Court. He’s dangerous, and he is a monster.

“Part of that is true,” he affirms, and I can see a tinge of hurt in his eyes.

“And the other part?” I ask on bated breath.

“You’ll see soon enough mate,” he says.

“My Lord we cannot be together,” I state firmly.

“Back to formalities now are we?” he sighs. “I’ve waited 500 years to find my mate y/n, don’t think for one second that I’m going to stay away from you just because you’re afraid of that pathetic excuse for a brother.”

“He’s not pathetic, he loves me!” I growl.

“You don’t know half the things you think you do about your brother,” he sneered.

As much as I hated to admit it he was right. Tamlin and I had never truly been close. We hardly ever did anything together. I always sensed a darkness in him that I couldn’t place. There was so much he simply refused to tell me just because I was a woman. But I couldn't bear that truth to Rhys, not when I needed his silence.

“This conversation is over,” I huff before walking away, I feel him grasp my arm.

“No darling it’s not,” Rhys says with frustration in his eyes.

“Wanna bet?” I ask smugly before winnowing back to the Spring Court.

The next few days I don’t hear from Rhysand, and I don’t feel a tug on the bond. All of the sudden my life is filled with a sense of melancholy, I never had before. I had grown so used to his constant tugging on the bond or his remarks throughout my daily life that I felt a little empty without him.

So empty that I now found myself nudging around the food on my plate at dinner. Lucien had been out with the emissary of the Summer Court fixing the problems on the border, which meant it was just me and Tamlin.

We spend the whole meal in silence until he finally breaks it, “I have something I want to discuss with you,” he says, placing his napkin down on the table.

“What is it?” I ask, starting to wonder if maybe he saw me and Rhysand the other day.

“I’ve been talking with Beron Vanserra, and it seems that his eldest son Eris has taken a liking to you. We think it might be in the best interest of our two courts if you two were to marry.” he says casually, as if the words weren’t a huge punch to the gut.

“What?” I breathe in disbelief.

“Come on y/n this has always been our plan, to get you an advantageous marriage.” he reminds me, irritation laced in his voice.

“Not my plan Tamlin, yours.” I seethe. “Eris is a viper, I won’t marry him.”

“You’ll do as you're told and that’s final!” he screams slamming his fists down on the table making the silverware rattle.

I leave my plate full of food on the table and get up. If I wasn’t hungry before I certainly am not now. I leave the dining room and make sure to slam the door on my way out. The halls of the palace were dark save for the moonlight drifting through the windows. My mind was a mess of Tamlin’s words, I was so angry I could hardly think beyond it. At the end of the hall there was a door and even from where I was I could see the doorknob turning. A head of red hair popped through the door and Lucien stumbled to close it.

I kept my head down trying to avoid him but it was no use. The second he passed me his hands were on me shoving me into the nearest wall.

“Hello my flower,” he slurred.

“You’re drunk Lucien,” I pointed out, jerking my head away.

“Yes I suppose I am, the emissary for the summer court knows how to celebrate. We went to a tavern after completing the job on the border to indulge in some women and maybe a few drinks,” he chuckled.

“Yeah a few hundred drinks you fucking idiot,” I gripe trying to get out of his grasp but his hands only pin my wrists tighter.

“It was fun, but being around all those women made me long for my little flower,” he smiled drunkenly before kissing my neck.

For months now he’s been doing this, stealing touches whenever he could, and kissing my neck like this when he was feeling really bold, or in this case, drunk. He never took it further than that though. Never kissing, never fully fucking me, and I think it’s because he knew that it would be where Tamilin drew the line. But tonight he was drunk, in a way I had never seen him before, and I wasn’t sure if the line that had held for so many months would be held now.

“Get the fuck off me Lucien,” I growl trying to push him off again.

He completely ignores me, “You know my dear I’ve let my hands wander every expanse of this magnificent body, but I have yet to taste you,” he says lowly. “I think I’m going to change that.”

I don’t even get a chance to try and fight before his lips are on mine. He tastes like shitty whiskey and he smells like cheap perfume. It’s vile and it has me sick to my stomach. I find my opening to rip my lips off him and take it.

“Lucien what the fuck!” I scream in his face. His eyes just go down to my heaving chest, where my breasts are pushed up high due to my corset.

“And these,” he drawls before placing open mouth kisses on the peaks of my breasts. His hand lets go of my wrist and flies to my waist to pull me closer to him and I take the change of position as an opportunity to knee him between his legs.

His knees hit the ground and I run down the hall towards my room. I slam and lock the door as fast as possible, barricading myself in with a chair. I pace back and forth trying to dispel the pent up adrenaline that’s inside of me but in the end I sink to my knees and start to cry.

What happened?

That calming voice cleaves its way through my mind and it feels like a huge weight off my chest has been lifted.

“It was Lucien he tried to…” I let my voice trail off not even wanting to finish the sentence. I know the High Lord of Night is at the complete other end of Prythian but I swear I feel the ground beneath me tremble.

Did he? He asks, like he would winnow here right now and make due on his promise of ripping out his good eye.

“No, I fought him off,” I assure him.

Are you safe?

“As safe as I can be, I barricaded the door,” I say, as my heart rate calms down.

You shouldn’t have to live in a place where you have to barricade yourself in your room.

“Well I do so I’m handling it the best I can,” I gripe at him. I would gladly change the situation if I could but I can’t. There's a silence and I can feel him ruminating over my words as I crawl into bed.

I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it like that.

“It’s okay I understood what you meant,” I say pulling the covers up to my chin like they might protect me.

And I’m sorry for what I said about Tamlin. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you, he’s your brother, of course you’re going to defend him.

“It’s okay, maybe everything you said about Tamlin wasn’t entirely false,” I confess remembering the conversation that had me fleeing the dining room in the first place.

What happened?

A moment passes and I think about telling him. But saying it almost makes it real and I choose not to, “I’d rather not talk about it now. Too much has happened tonight,” I say

Alright we won’t then. I sense disappointment in his voice but I am happy that he respects my wishes.

“Rhys?”I ask, and there’s a hesitation there.

Yes darling? He purrs and I can hear him practically swooning at the fact that I said his name.

“I don’t wanna be alone, will you stay up with me?” I confess feeling like I’m baring my soul.

Of course I will darling, all night if you want me to.

Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88

(I've never made a taglist so hopefully this works)

#rhys acotar #rhysand #rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #rhysand angst #rhysand fluff #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar

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readychilledwine · 5 months ago

Text

Love In The Kennels

Eris Week - Day 2 - Childhood and Legacy

Summary - Loving her was the easiest thing Eris had ever done, and a surprise meeting with his "least favorite" Illyrians let's him relive that.

Warnings - Formal dog breeding terms and briefly touched mentions of it, sexual tension, Beron being creepy, Liz's headcanon that Autumn is mote feral, therefore females have heat cycles, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pinning, mentions of fxf smut, mentions of injuries, possibly missed errors

A/N - Happy Day two of @erisweekofficial! I've had his hidden in my docs since Eris week last year, but I was so nervous to post it dur to the formating. It seems that wasn't a huge issue. A heads up, this is very similar to my Tarquin x reader Runaway Love fic. There are italized moments that are flashbacks as Eris and Artemis tell the batboys their story. I also took some inspiration from my absolute favorite Eris fanfiction in how Eris and Artemis constantly say each other's names back and forth. It is almost 6k words, so maybe grab a snackie?

Ps - can you guess with children's princess movie I based their relationship off of?

🍂Eris Week Masterlist🍂Eris Masterlist🍂Master Masterlist🍂

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Eris needed to get Rhysand and his hounds to leave his cabin, and quickly. The sun was starting to set, and Eris knew his wife would be returning home soon. He had come too far to risk her. He already had too much hiding in this cabin due to this surprise interrogation. She was not something he was willing to put at stake.

"The hour grows late, Rhysand," Eris paused as one of his hounds stood and began to pace at the door. "I believe we can discuss this at our next scheduled meeting."

Rhysand smirked in front of him, noting the way Eris passively stated he was not thrilled about their sudden appearance. "So eager to get rid of us, Eris? I thought you wanted our help."

The heir of Autumn scoffed slightly as he continued to watch his hounds growing anxious with the excitement of their mother coming home. "I do," he said calmly. "I just do not wish to discuss this topic at length again."

"The topic of how you left Mor for dead in the woods?" Eris found himself raising a brow at Azriel as he spoke. "I do not believe the shit you fed Nesta and I would like to hear it in person."

Eris rolled his eyes and froze as the first whine happened. Rhys turned to the 3 hounds Eris had brought into the cabin with him. All three of them wagged their tails, constantly readjusting their paws on the wooden floors and staring up at the door. "Are you expecting company, Eris?" Rhys watched as Eris's jaw tightened. Another whine came. It was followed by a sad huff as the male hound lay on the ground.

Eris moved to the cabin door, all three hounds perking up as he did so, "Do not jump. Am I understood?" The smoke hounds whined as he gave them his serious father-like face. "Go." He opened the door, and Azriel watched in silence as the three of them quickly took off into the clearing and waited at the center of it.

"I didn't leave Mor. I caught her in the middle of-" Eris paused thinking of how to word his story to the male who had chased after his ex fiancé for years. "I caught her in the throes of passion with one of my friends. When I asked Morrigan about it, she told me her preferences sexually leaned towards females. We made an agreement. She fucks someone to get out of the marriage, I fake outrage, she's free." Eris looked out into the clearing. The beer he had been nursing appeared in his hands as he waited and watched.

"We hadn't planned on what to do once Keir found out. We figured she'd be sent off to whoever she fucked and then be done with it. When she showed up with the letter nailed into her and beaten, I tried to get her to let me help. I offered to bring her here then get her to the Winter Court. I offered to help. She refused." Eris felt the shift in the clearing and saw his wife and mate off in the distance. 9 other hounds began to howl and whine appearing from out of nowhere before rushing her.

"What is happening out there?" Cassian moved the window by Eris. "Who is that?"

"My wife." Eris said plainly. "I left Mor after getting her to a place she knew you'd be able to find her, Azriel. I waited until you had her to leave. If you didn't come to get her, I was going to bring her here, to a safe cabin, until we could figure something out. Even if she hated me for it.”

Azriel and Rhys had also moved to the window in shock. The last part of Eris's story was buzzing in Azriel's ears as soon as his eyes landed on the figure of the female in the clearing. She was the one who had healed Cassian after he was gutted. The Autumn Court healer they couldn't find to thank. She was laughing as she was being chased around in her burgundy dress, dark hair flowing in the wind as she did. She was holding a bag up from the dogs as they jumped to try to grab it.

Eris sighed softly before moving to the door and reopening it. "No jumping! Let your mother come inside. Don't you all have rabbits to chase?" The hounds all slowly disburse as she patted their heads one by one. The three that had been in the house flanked her. Protecting her as she bounced up the steps to the cabin.

"Hello sugar," Eris said softly. "We have company." He watched her make a small face and laughed slightly before taking her hand.

"I'm mad at you," she said. She moved inside as he stood and processed the sentence. "High Lord. High Lord's friends." She greeted them softly before moving into the kitchen.

"Artemis?"

"Eris?'

Cassian chuckled slightly at the two of them as he watched Eris narrow his eyes at the female. "What exactly did I do to earn your anger?"

"Well, Husband," Rhys laughed this time at the sarcastic tone she was using. "Shall we start with the fact that you left me with your father all day, hmmmm?" She rose a brow at him and set her hand on the counter before also placing one on her hip.

"Or shall we start with the fact that I've been tugging this useless bond for HOURS begging you to come save me? And then I finally get to come home, after your father questioned me about everything under the Gods damned sun, by the way, and I find you drinking beer and having a grand old time."

Azriel covered laughter with a cough as he watched the Autumn female’s chestnut waves dance with every bob and move of her head. She clearly wasn't actually angry with Eris. Just very annoyed. He watched as she slammed down the bag she had been carrying.

"And to really top it off, husband."

"Please, do top it off, wife." Cassian threw his head back at Eris leaning in the doorway with a smirk. “You know I do adore you topping things.”

The female Artemis gave a serpent like smile before cocking her head, deep chocolate eyes playfully glaring at Eris, “When you do finally tug back, it's to ask me to break into your father's office-" She pauses motioning to the bag. "And copy all of THIS!"

Azriel's wings flared as she pulled out copies of the paperwork the Night Court had asked for. He walked to the table instantly, maintaining eye contact with the beautiful female in front of him. "The only reason you are alive right now, Eris-"

"Oh fuck, tell me why I'm alive, Artemis." Eris had grown slightly predatory as the Illyrians slowly realized the husband and wife were flirting with each other.

"The only reason I did not slit your throat when I walked through the door," she paused giggling slightly at Cassian's shocked face as Eris groaned and smiled, "is because that one," she pointed to Azriel, "is handsome and I do not wish for him to see that side of me. Plus your cock serves some purpose. Maybe.”

Cassian lost all composure then, a loud laugh seeming to shake the small cabin they were in as Eris's jaw fell, not realizing she would be so bold in front of the other males in the room. Artemis was rarely subtle though, her freckled face had subtitles. Something Eris had to remind her of frequently when she'd make looks of disgust openly.

"Artemis."

"Eris?"

"I love you." The laughter in the cabin stopped as Eris moved to his wife and kissed the top of her head. "And I'm sorry I wasn't there today."

She continued glaring at the papers in front of her, "You should have let one of them stab you. I might have had sympathy then."

"I could not allow that to happen, wife," Eris said into her hair, "We put knife play on the exclusive to us list.”

She smirked softly before turning to Cassian. "You healed nicely, general."

Cassian made a confused face as he tried to place how he knew her. "Have we met?"

"She's the healer who stitched you shut and spent herself magically so you'd heal as quickly as possible." Rhys said softly looking over the papers again. "Then she disappeared, never to be seen again."

"I didn't disappear. I went back to hiding. My oh so lovely high lord did not clear me to come. My arrogant husband refused to have a cold bed, though." Eris nodded from behind her, sipping his beer again. "He snuck me into you, though. Now I know why."

They watched as she turned and placed a hand on Eris's chest. "I am so proud of you, husband." Eris's smile dropped as she smirked ferally at him. "Who would have known you were capable of making friends?" Eris shut his eyes and bit his inner lip to stop the laughter threatening to spill out.

"Gods why did I marry you?" He looked up to the ceiling. "Wicked, cruel, ruthless little thing you are."

"You sir," she finished pulling out the copies of documents Eris hadn't asked her to steal but she had anyway and handed them to Azriel, "Are the one who forced me into a drunken bargain and then sabotaged my relationships to ensure I would have to marry you."

Cassian opened four more beers as the female poured herself wine. "Now this is a story I need to hear." He settled next to her after handing the beers to the other males. "What exactly happened, little fox? I want to know everything about you and our dear friend, Eris."

Eris growled as Cassian stared down at his wife. "Everything? It all started when Eris and I were like 8."

"I was 12. You were 8." Eris corrected. "We had gone to her family's home. They breed hounds and rumors lead us to believe they had smoke hounds. Beron had beat me for the first time and a puppy was his apology.”

"Artemis!" The young female faeling froze as her father yelled her name. "You need to go bathe, child. The high lord is coming with his son."

Artemis was sitting in the kennel with the new litter of smoke hounds her dog had just birthed almost a month ago. She was covered in dirt, and had fur all over her leggings and tunic she wore while cleaning and working with the hounds.

"Papa! Look at what Scout can do!" She allowed the largest of the male dog to sniff her hand before leaving the kennel and hiding the fabric she was holding in another hounds enclosure. She had dug it deep into the hay and dirt and scent of that hound.

Unknown to her, The High Lord and his son had appeared and were watching as her mother and father apologized profusely. "Scout!" She yelled from the hallway. "Find it!"

Beron watched in silence as a male puppy exited the kennel he was in, sniffing the ground the little female had run all over before locking in on a specific trail. His tail was straight up, shoulders, neck, and head low as he slowly made his way to the part of the run she was nowhere near. He sat and indicated that he had found what he was looking for by barking once as his tail began to wag swiftly.

"I believe we know which hound we want. Your daughter made that quite easy. Right, Eris?" The high lord looked down at his son to find he had locked eyes with the female near his age. Something the princeling wasn't used to.

"Papa?" The girl hid behind her father. "Can I go hide?" Artemis had never seen another child. Not in the seclusion of their farm on the outskirts.

The master of the kennel shut his eyes and whispered another apology. "Of course, baby. I'm sorry. She's not used to seeing anyone other than her mother and I. She's not normally out here when we handle sales. She's very shy."

'So she doesn't want to play?" Eris did the best he could to hide his sadness. He crossed his small arms and hands in front of him.

"I am not sure, my Prince." The older male kneeled down and pointed to the little shed near the kennels. "She probably ran in there. If you'd like to ask. The high lord and I have some paperwork to go over."

"So fucking Eris, comes into my playshed. Without knocking. And asks if I want to play with him. Guess how he responded when I said no?"

Eris smirked, "I commanded her to."

Azriel was invested in the story deeply. He sat and was leaning his head on one hand as Rhys and Eris also took a step and got comfortable. This was the exact information Azriel had actually wanted. Eris in his most intimate moments. The Eris only Cassian and Nesta had grown to know.

"Then she called me a bully. We played for hours. In the creek. In the kennels. In the flower beds. Your mother's food garden."

"Is that when you struck the bargain," Rhysand asked. “Children have been known to do that by accident.”

Eris shook his head. "We were closer to 50 when that happened. We became rivals after we met right away. I couldn't train the hounds the way she could."

"I couldn't use a bow the way he could"

"I had no healing magic the way she did."

"My fire Magic skills weren't coming in as quickly due to my half dawn court heritage."

"She had higher marks in school."

"He had more friends."

"Our birthdays were the same day."

"Our names both have origins with the Gods and we were teased for it."

"She's always been beautiful. I was an ugly brat."

"Accurate." Eris flipped her off and she blew him a kiss.

Rhys paused looking at the two of them. "So you two hated each other?"

She nodded while he shook his head. "I've loved her since we were children. I just wished she'd teach me the things she could do that I couldn't."

"I hated him," she said boldly, causing a rare laugh to come from the shadowsinger. "That was our childhood, though. A constant back and forth of competition."

Eris sighed softly, "And then I realized I wanted her when I had turned 54, and she was 50. We were at a stupid ball my father was throwing in her honor since our families became very close due to the hounds."

Artemis laughed as Eris twirled her again. Her dress swished behind her as he did so. Eris had not allowed another male besides his and her father near her all evening. He had told her it was because it was technically both of their birthdays and what kind of male would he be if he allowed another male the opportunity to dance with the most beautiful female in the room.

Their friendship, if one would or could call it that, had become tense as they approached adulthood. Their hormones from their teenage years had left them both burning for each other. Not that Artemis would ever admit that.

She curtsied as he bowed at the song's end, "Eris."

"Artemis." He immediately interrupted her in the same fashion he always did when she said his name.

"Can we get a drink, please?" Eris took in her flushed face, her labored breathing. He had her out here for almost two hours now without a rest break or beverage.

"Of course, my lady." He offered her his arm as they made their way to the wine table. "Have you had wine yet, or will this be your first time?"

"My first time. What do you suggest, my prince?" Eris handed her the Autumn court golden wine saved for celebrations and special occasions.

"Shall we?" He held his glass to hers.

"We shall." Eris and Artemis drank way too much that night. Giggling and joking with each other as their ambitions fell to none.

They stared off the balcony at the dark orchard in front of them, "Make me a deal, Artemis."

"Depends on what it is, Eris."

The heir smirked at the hiccup in her voice as she leaned into him. They were so far gone. Drunk on each other, happiness, and wine. "If I am not married by say….. 550, let's marry each other."

Artemis paused suddenly sober on his shoulder as they turned to face each other. "What do I get out of that?"

"Me?" The heir seemed offended as he stared at her. "A higher station? All the pretty dresses you could want?"

She scoffed lightly. "My family has the second highest station in this court. My father is your father's right hand. My brothers both have high positions in your armies and command their own legions." She turned back to the Forest. "What of love, Eris? What do you have to offer me there?"

The heir paused before moving to cage her body between him and the balcony. She felt so right in his arms. Like she was made for him. "I can promise you you'll never be alone. That you will feel safe and wanted every day. That you would be my equal in every way. We would make any decisions we needed to make together." He took a deep breath and started again.

"I can promise to warm you bed, magically sugar, every night so you are never cold. That you will be showered with gifts, compliments, and treats." She hummed at the mention of sweets, causing Eris to chuckle. "I promise to take you to every court. To always dance with you."

She whispered softly again. "But what of love, Eris?"

He leaned into her ear, knowing she would not remember the soft confession he was about to whisper to her. "I have loved you since we were children, Artemis. And I will love you long after this world takes its last breath."

She sealed the bargain by crashing her lips onto his. Their first kiss. It was sloppy. Messy. Tasted heavily of honeyed wine, but Eris was too happy to turn it away as matching leaves appeared on both of them.

"I had no clue what the fuck this was from. I was absolutely wasted," Artemis said as she held her left ring finger up. A small fall colored leaf graced the skin right above her wedding band and engagement ring. "He had to tell our families what happened the next morning."

"Father beat me for weeks after that." Eris shrugged as Azriel's jaw dropped. "Fuck him."

Cassian pulled her small hand closer to his face, "Your bargain tattoos look so life like?" Rhys undid the glamour he had on his own Autumn court bargain. An acorn stood out, clear as day, on the wrist joint.

"It's honestly become my favorite." The high lord admitted. "I have never had a seasonal court bargain. I find it unique that their's are symbols instead of runes spelling the conditions."

"I want one." Cassian said. "We'll think of something." He pointed to Eris, who laughed softly.

Azriel was the only one deeply confused as he listened to the love story between Eris and Artemis. One would almost describe his investment as childlike wonder as he flicked his eyes back and forth between the two of them. "So you were in love with her the whole time?" Eris nodded to the shadowsinger. "So why didn't you just marry her?"

"Because his engagement to Morrigan was a- interesting hangnail that left lingering tensions. Even after he told my parents what happened." Sadness was clear in her voice, “That whole thing was a shit show.”

"You contributed to that, my love."

The three illyrians snapped their heads back to the Autumn Court Female. Flush had spread across her chest and cheeks. "I didn't exactly know what she meant when she asked me if I wanted to try that, Eris. She offered a demonstration, I innocently said yes."

"This is true. You did say "penis" to me once before you learned bedroom talk." Cass covered his mouth as she sighed and stared at Eris.

"You're making it sound like we have tons of sex when that's never happened. I said it as a joke, not realizing the real joke was the use of the word "penis." She glared at Eris.

"You two haven't?"

"Nope," They said together.

"Contraceptives do not work on Autumn Court females. Our blood burns too hot. I won't risk it until his father kicks the bucket."

Azriel looked at her, "So you fucked Mor instead?"

"Um-" She began to blush again. "I let her do things after we had discussed how I had never done said things. Yes."

"And then I walked into her guest room thinking I was about to kill some male for touching her, and guess who's there instead with her head buried between my mate's thighs? Morrigan." Eris chugged his beer before grabbing another. "Guess who hasn't gotten to be between his mate's thighs? Eris."

"Cry me a river, Vanserra."

Eris responded by raising a single finger to his wife. Rhys interrupted their impending flirting, "So we know what happened with Morrigan? What led to this?" He motioned to their rings.

"I began to sabotage every relationship she had. Anytime I found out a male was trying to court her, I dueled them, threatened their station, their business, their lives. Or I'd just simply invite myself on her dates." Eris shrugged as he switched to the scotch he hid for special occasions. Everyone had moved to the living room, Eris holding Artemis tight by his side.

"I disappeared for a hundred years though to be transparent," she said softly. Eris hummed before kissing her head.

"You had a valid reason, sugar."

"Eris, please," Artemis was pleading with the male as she braided her long hair. "I really like him."

"He enjoys your company as well." Eris paused as he took in her cream dress and tall dark leather boots. "And by that, I mean your tits. It's all he would talk about at training today." She sighed softly. Eris moved to help her finish her braid.

The scent of toasted sugar and roses clung to her like a second skin now that she had gone through her first heat, and it slapped him in the face. He growled softly in her ear, and she whimpered back. Leaning her head over, she exposed her neck to Eris. "Sugar," he growled in warning.

Protecting her in the Forest House had been nearly impossible during her heats. His brothers and father had nearly slaughtered each other while he stood guard with her brothers.

The bond snapped when he took her in food the second day of that long week. She had been naked in a hot bath, whimpering softly as she desperately tried to ignore the pain growing between her legs and in her stomach. It was a curse only Autumn females experienced. It was a plague to ensure the population stayed high here.

That scent became a warning. He used to dread the first signs of it. Now, years later, it was one of Eris's favorite things. He'd drown in her scent if she'd just allow him to.

"You smell delicious, little bunny," he whispered into her ear. He watched with feral eyes as her breath hitched. "When is your next heat?" She whimpered as his large hands took her hips in them. Grabbing the skin there. Massaging softly.

"It's not supposed to be for another week," He hummed as his mouth grazed the shell of her dedicated pointed ear. He ignored her words, nipping softly at the pointed top. "Eris, please. I need to get ready."

"No, you don't," he paused. "You can stay here and read with me. We can head back to your family estate and check the new litter early. You do not have to go on this date with this unworthy male."

Eris paused as a knock came on her door and went to hide in her closet. He nodded for her to open the door once he warded his scent and sound from whomever was entering the room.

"Enter," she said softly as she began applying soft makeup. "Oh, High Lord, what a pleasant surprise."

Eris watched as his father studied Artemis. "Are you going somewhere, dear one?"

"One of the generals is taking me on a walk, my lord," she replied softly.

"You really must learn to aim higher, Lady Artemis. A general? You could be pursued by much higher ranks."

"I am sorry. I do not know what you mean?" Eris watched as his father walked slowly to his mate. He held back a growl as the hand that had beaten him countless times touched her delicate face.

"You can do much better, Artemis. Surely you know my bed is always open to you." He watched as Artemis looked at his father in shock. "You have come to realize why we keep you here during your heat cycles, haven't you, dear girl? It's in hopes of one of my sons, or I, will put a babe inside of you."

"You wish to make me your whore?" Artemis whispered softly.

"I wish to make you my son's wife, but if the idiot will not take you himself, so I see nothing wrong with another of us trying." Beron touched her neck and collarbone gently. "You smell like your heat is about to set in. Think about my offer, pretty girl."

"I never went on a date that night." Azriel was stiff across from her. His hand clutched. Artemis reached over and held his scarred hand in hers.

"She never went on a date ever again after that. She winnowed home without saying goodbye." Eris found his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on his wife's back. "I hunted her down before we all ended up under the mountain. The bargain timing was coming to a close. I asked her to marry me in secret the night before we all fell into her trap."

"Artemis," she felt her skin erupt into goosebumps as a familiar voice rang through the smoke hound kennel. "Ah, there you are."

Eris watched as she stood slowly, a pup in her arms, "Eris."

You realize we are both unwed and our birthday is in 2 weeks. Correct?"

Artemis closed her eyes, "I can't go back there, Eris."

"So you'd rather we both die?"

"I've always been fine with you dying." Eris chuckled softly from the spot he stood at as she presented the pup she was holding to him. "This is Archie. She's proving to be a wonderful hunter."

Eris took the pup from her arms and held her. "She has a wonderful build," he examined her carefully. Checking her ears, teeth, eyes. "Who are her bitch and sire?"

Artemis motioned towards the kennel, "Rammie and Rainy." Eris nodded. "She comes from a long line of prize-winning hunters. We picked the two of them to go together after buying out the last other breeder. Less inbreeding among their stock now is making an interesting change."

"Congratulations on the success. We're getting married tonight in secret." Eris dropped the bomb casually on her as he continued to scratch the pup behind her ears. "This little beauty shall be my wedding present."

"You have got to be joking," Artemis said slowly. "No."

"Yes. I do not intend to die over a decision we foolishly made when we were drunk. Get ready and meet me in an hour, or I'll drag you there in your leggings and tunic."

"For all you know," she pointed to the hounds in the kennel, "They were a courting present from the kennelmaster of-."

Eris laughed lightly. "Not his style, princess. He would have just stolen you. Get ready. Now."

"So you two married in silence?" Azriel looked between them. "And you didn't even get to have a mating ceremony or honeymoon because of her. Did you go with him under the mountain?"

Artemis pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "No," she said softly. "Eris kept me here. I-" She looked up and sighed softly. "The bond hadn't snapped for me. So, I spent 50 years trying to help maintain Autumn with the fewlordss that were left. I regret not going."

"I don't regret leaving you here," Eris ran a hand through her hair, pulling her back into his chest. "She would have killed you."

Rhys nodded slowly, "I wasn't the only one Amarantha played with," the high lord sighed. "If she would have known Eris had a wife, a mate nonetheless, she would have had Artemis pulled under the mountain and her womb ripped out in front of Eris."

Cassian felt sympathy set in for Eris. "So, when did the bond snap?"

The couple both smiled. "When he came home," her eyes were on him and him alone as he raised her hand, kissing it.

Artemis was cleaning kennels as she prepared for her newest litter. There wasn't much she could do as the Autumn thunderstorm raged on outside. She had hoped cleaning kennels would take her mind off her husband, but it hadn't.

She sighed softly at the amount of hounds she currently had. They had wonderful lives. They were enriched, allowed to roam, trained, well fed. It just broke her heart not to see a Vanserra or other noble laying claim to them, though. She had sent a few over the border to Spring once. Lucien had almost cried with joy as the three pups found him. She had sent them with his favorite Autumn treats and her love. Lucien sent her frequent updates on them until they passed.

Eris had approached her slowly, rain dripping down his face and hair as he froze at the sight of her. He wanted nothing more than to see his wife, his mate. She was deep in thought as she picked up blankets and put them in a basket to change them out.

"I know, baby," she leaned down and patted one of the hounds. "You're almost there. Let momma get you some new water and blankets.'"She moved to pick up the basket, looking down as she turned towards where Eris stood. He cleared his throat softly, wanting her attention but not wanting to startle her.

Artemis looked up instantly at the noise. They locked eyes the second she did. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she stood in silence before dropping the basket.

She ran to him. Jumping in his arms and wrapping her legs around his waist. Their lips were on each other instantly. He kissed her deeply as the rain poured on them.

Her hands tangled in his hair. She knew she was crying. But she couldn't bring herself to care. She had missed him. Missed his laugh, his voice, his hands. And Gods, after 50 years apart, she knew. She knew without a shadow of doubt that she was truly, madly, and deeply in love with Eris.

"Eris," she whispered. She opened her eyes, looking into his again. Then she felt it. She felt her gravity shift. Her heartbeat quickened, then slowed. She felt a deep snap radiating through her, and a sob tore through her. "Mate."

Eris let out the soft sob he was holding back. "Mate. I love you."

"I love you," she repeated. He carried her like that into her parent's home where their families waited for them.

Eris had told his parents the second they arrived home in Autumn of the bond. He wanted to truly marry her in front of the whole court. Their fathers had agreed instantly. This benefitted Beron, and for her father, it put Eris one step closer to ending the tyranny.

Azriel truly looked like a child right now. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he rested his chin on his hands. "And now we're here?"

Eris nodded, "And now we're here." Cassian watched as Eris kissed Artemis's ring and softly whispered that he loved her.

Rhys was processing everything slowly. "But Nesta?" He finally said.

Artemis laughed lightly as Eris smirked, "If you're going to dangle a treat in my face, Rhysand, I'm going to try to take it. She would have had to settle for being my consort."

Artemis shrugged, "Or my wife. I technically only have a husband."

Cassian started laughing again. "Oh Mother, if you can survive Eris for almost 500 years, I cannot imagine you and Ness together."

"We got along fine when she sat with me while I healed you. We like the same books, wine, and both enjoy long baths."

Cassian looked at her. "You're the one she keeps asking about then." Artemis looked shocked at Cassian. "She doesn't have a lot of friends."

"Because she's blunt and abrasive? That's why I liked her." Artemis shrugged. "She would have fit in well here. Also-" She turned to Rhysand and smiled. "We're even."

The high lord nodded, "So you don't want me to bring you thousands of gifts?" Eris growled slightly looking at the High Lord.

"She receives PLENTY of gifts. Thank you."

"You could bring me Lucien," she whispered softly. "I miss him."

“Or kill my father,” Eris muttered silently. “Then she could have her baby.”

Artemis released a dreamy sigh, “A little baby to grow with all the love in the world. No Beron. No violence. A new beginning.”

Azriel held up the papers she brought. A silent confirmation that was what they were for. Eris only looked at her, continuing to drink his beer. She knew now. Knew the dangerous reason the 3 of them were here.

“So the legacy begins,” she turned to Eris. “You're ready for things to change?”

Eris only nodded, “I'm ready for change.”

“Then change we will make,” Artemis said as if he was the only being in the room. He was the only one that mattered to her now. She stared at him in pride for a moment before turning to the shadowsinger and pulling out one last paper she had hidden in the corseted bodice. “A map. Of the Forest House.”

The males all moved to the table as she unfolded it, and the discussion began, Artemis at Eris's side. Their future was the only thing on her mind. The new era that her mate would bring to Autumn.

It was time for the narrative to change.

And Artemis knew Eris was a world shaker.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x oc #eris acotar #eris x oc #eris fic #eris vanserra #eris vandaddy #pro eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fic #erisweek2024 #erisweek2024 day 2

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littlest-w01f · 1 year ago

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ACOTAR MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

All taglists here, comment in to be added

MAIN SERIES:

ERIS VANSERRA - Flames And Darkness (Eris Vanserra x OC)

RHYSAND - Blooming Flowers (Rhysand x OC)

NYX - Meeting in Grey (Nyx x OC)

Character Masterlists:

Rhysand Cassian

Azriel Eris

Lucien Helion

Tarquin Kallias

Thesan Tamlin

Feyre Nesta

Elain Mor

Music fics masterlist

Feyre Appreciation Week 2024

Starfall Week 2024

Poly Acotar Week 2024

Cassian Appreciation Week 2024

Acotar Omegaverse Week 2024

Rhysand Appreciation Week 2024

Elain Appreciation Week 2024

Eris Vanserra Appreciation Week 2024

Acotar Gift Exchange 2024

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emeraldkarma · 4 months ago

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Tamlin and potential tamlin baby?

I just think tamlin would be a good dad once he gets some thearapy in him.

And if the baby was named after andras that would be perfect and if he happens to look a little bit like tarquin it's a coincidence.

Or it isn't and I wrote a tamlin mpreg fic were tamlin gets pregnant by the spirit of spring personified so he can save his dying magic and works through his trauma and exepts responsibility for the wrong he's done in an effort to be the father his son deserves all the while falling in love with tarquin who has been the only high lord willing to help him rebuild his court....

So basically I wrote a fanfic called waterlillys and lotus blooms that takes place along side nesta x eris fic I'm also writing...

#acotar #tamlin #fan art #mpreg #tarquin

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k-daydreams · 1 year ago

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Touch in the Dark: pt. i

Pairing: Rhysand x fem!Vanserra!reader

Based of this ask

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: abuse, angst, poorly proofread

Author’s note: I got really inspired w this one and got carried away per usual! This is going to be a mini fic at most a 3 part!!

⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃

The sensuous tremor of the music rumbled through the room. Another night for Amarantha to make a fool of someone, you thought as you arrived at her throne room with your brothers. You stood by Eris, a mask of a scowl on your face as you watched her court be merry—if that’s why you could call it. All dancing, grinding on one another, drinking the fae wine, and over indulging on food. To be so fortunate to think this prison was homely must have been an ignorant bliss you hadn’t had the privilege to think. You had hardly found the appetite to eat twice a day if it weren’t for your eldest brother and mother.

Years turned into decades, and the relentless tyranny of the red-headed woman felt like an eternity. As your brothers dispersed into the crowd, you remained with Eris. Due to Lucien’s escape from your father’s suffocating grasp, Eris became your closest ally.

“What’s your strategy for tonight?” Eris queried, both of you observing the crowd.

Nonchalantly adjusting your gown’s sleeves, you responded, “Check on mother, evade father and our brothers, and hope Amarantha doesn’t summon me.”

“Stay inconspicuous, Y/n,” Eris cautioned, his gaze piercing. “I’m serious.”

You scoffed, “Easier said than done.”

“Father’s aware of your recent…activities.”

You bit your lip, of course he did. He always learned what bidding Amarantha made you do—not like you could avoid it. Either suffer at the hands of that cruel woman or suffer from the hands of your father. You had experienced both, and your father’s sadist ways were getting off easy nowadays.

“You think our court’s morals matter down here, Eris?” You retorted curtly.

“You can still have modesty,” he bit back. “When we get out of here, nobody will ever want you after hearing how many nobles and lords you’ve bedded.”

Your eyes flashed with anger, “you know I have no say in the matter. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Pushing past him, you needed distance from the constant reminders of your grim reality.

Scanning the room, you took a wine-filled goblet from a passing servant. Settling at a secluded table, and sighing. You hadn’t known why Amarantha had made you one of her harlots. It took you years to comply with the bidding before finally letting go of your morality.

“I knew I could smell filth, Lady Fox.” A voice purred from behind you. You tensed as the Night Court High Lord, Rhysand, took a seat next to you. The despair you had felt turned into an ice with close proximity to the dark haired violet eyed male.

“Are you sure those aren’t Amarantha’s sheets you just rolled in that you’re smelling?” You replied smoothly.

He narrowed his eyes at you, “did Tarquin not satisfy you enough? Or did you not collect enough secrets for her liking last night and got punished?”

Rhysand could be insufferable. He had always held a disdain toward you, one that started as unwarranted until it was. You had once been a close friend to his cousin, Morrigan. Both of you were able to bond over the fact both your families hated females and only saw them as property and assets. Then your brothers had left her for dead in the woods of your court when they found she had been sullied. A note from her parents nailed to her womb.

You had mourned quietly for days for her, until Eris had broken through the wards you put up so no one could bother you. Everyone associated you to be just as cruel and nasty like your father and brothers—never taking into consideration you were your own person. Had considered the actions your family have done wounded you, and you always paid a price for them. No friends that weren’t actually friends, only scared of the consequences if they didn’t hang around you. No one you could trust without fear they’d report everything you have said to your family. That alone filled you with enough spite and resentment to become the vision everyone already had perceived you as.

“He was quite satisfactory,” you hummed, taking a sip from your glass. It was average at best, you wouldn’t let the deceitful high lord know.

Since you had been locked under this Mother forsaken place, he had been damn near the bane of your existence. Always going the extra mile to make this living nightmare a living hell for you. Poking and prodding you, knowing you couldn’t do much in retaliation.

He gave you a disgusted look and caught a servant on their way out of the room with a tray of drinks. He leaned over and plucked one off the platter like you had done prior. You couldn’t help but notice as he leaned over where his tattoos peaked from under his shirt, lashings danced over his taut back underneath the dark fabric. Your scowl had turned to frown.

“Did you not satisfy her majesty last night?” There was no venom to your words. You hadn’t known the prized possession of Amarantha had still been punished like her little spies and sex workers. You thought he got off easy since she still allowed him some of his magic, offered him one of the best suites in this prison, and more authority than anyone else down here.

He cooly leaned back, adjusting his shirt as if he knew what you saw. Then taking the drink down his throat in one gulp. He used his sleeve to wipe the drop that dropped from the corner of his mouth. His violet eyes meeting yours, a dangerous warning in those orbs.

“I wouldn’t go snooping around, Lady Fox.” Was all he said, getting up from the table and melded into the crowd of courtiers.

⭒❃.✮

The thin fabric worsened the sting of your back as it moved against the wounds that had been inflicted on you hours prior. You quietly snuck out of your family’s suite feeling suffocated being in the same vicinity as them. After the underwhelming festivities of the night your father had cornered you with your elder brothers in the suite, no Eris or your mother in sight. The poker from the fireplace in his hand, and your brothers ripping your dress down the back, constraining you.

The shame you brought upon this family was all that you could hear echoing off the halls, though they were eerily silent. Filthy whore scratching down your mind as the friction of fabric on your back reminded you of the burning iron that branded your skin. You had walked mindlessly through the halls, trying to escape your thoughts. To grasp whatever sanity was left in your mind. You no longer cried when punished, only letting the fire that was dampered for now simmer inside you. You learned crying only fed the cruelty of your father and brothers.

You sat at the top of the main staircase that led to all the suites under the mountain. You clenched your teeth, hissing, as you shrugged down the straps of your nightgown so the cold air could hit the hot wounds. Bending over, hugging your knees and rocking, getting accustomed to the chill.

“It’s not wise to be out of your suite at night, Lady Fox.” That familiar chastising voice filled the silent halls. You looked up to see Rhysand walking up the stairs towards you. You straightened up, wincing, tugging the straps up to your nightgown.

“Couldn’t I say the same?” You mustered a sneer. He was still in his clothes from earlier, slightly crumpled and wrinkled now. You could smell Amarantha on him, making your nose crinkle.

“Pain doesn’t suit you.” He said simply. “Take a walk with me.” He reached out. You hesitantly looked at his outstretched hand he offered. “I won’t bite or scold you.”

You let him take your smaller dainty hand into his rough calloused one. Fighting the seethe and sharp intake of breath as he helped you up, your muscles sore from exhaustion.

You two didn’t talk as he led you through the halls of suites. His hand still holding yours, you wondered if he had realized it. You were too numb to care or admit that warmth brought slight comfort.

“You’re not bringing me to her, are you?” You whispered. You two walked in a wing you weren’t familiar with, and your blood ran slightly cold with every step you took with the High Lord.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough fun tonight, Lady Fox?” The sarcasm dripped from his tongue. “I’m not as cruel as you Vanserra’s.” You gave him a side eye, him only offering a tight lipped smile.

He led you to a door, opening it and letting you in first. He closed the door, locking it behind him. With a snap of his fingers the fireplace roared to life, causing you to flinch. It was a bedroom. His bedroom.

“I didn’t realize you actually occupied your bedroom, I thought you rumpled about hers every night.” You said icily, taking all the details of the room in.

A large bed in the middle neatly made with dark silk sheets, a fur lined duvet, and a knitted throw blanket at the end. A dark mantled fireplace with a couple chairs in front. A wardrobe and dresser against the wall, and a door that you assumed led to a bathroom.

“She would be so fortunate to have me grace her bedroom every night.” A feline smile on his lips, his teeth brightly gleaming in the firelight. “Take a seat.” He made a gesture with his head to his bed. He walked through the door in the corner, hearing him rummage through some cabinets as you sat on the edge of the plush mattress.

Your bed wasn’t even this comfortable, you thought as you rolled your shoulders in discomfort. He came back out moments later with medical supplies and in some night clothes. He set them on the stand next to the bed, and sat next to you.

He went to reach for the straps of your nightgown, but pulled away slightly. “Do you mind?” He asked. You shook your head as you faced away from him. He took the straps and slid them down your arms. His touch was surprisingly gentle, being careful as the fabric slightly stuck to your wounds pulling your gown down. He cursed under his breath as he saw what your father had done. You're sure he had seen the healed wounds that littered your back as well, you had more than you could count by now from even before under the mountain.

Another silence had fallen upon the two of you, with only quiet hisses as he cleaned your back. Your eyes blankly staring at the poker by the fireplace.

The centuries of existence you would have never thought that Rhysand would be tending to your wounds—maybe causing them, but never gingerly applying tonic and bandages to your spine. Your shoulders tensed as he brushed some hair away, his fingers sending goosebumps down your arms.

“What would you do if we were finally freed?” He asked thoughtfully.

Your breath stilled at the question. “I-I don’t know.” You stammered.

“Would you leave the Autumn Court?” He dabbed at your back. You had thought numerous times about leaving. Like your brother had.

You cleared your throat, “I couldn’t leave my mother with them by herself.” Your father treated her atrociously, and she had been the only one to show you true love. You had often opted to take the brunt of your father’s brute behavior to save her from it, if you could help it. He only hummed in response at your answer.

“What would you do?”

“I would visit my mother’s old home in Illyria.” He didn’t hesitate with his answer. You bit your lip, you had heard from Lucien what happened about what happened to Rhysand’s mother and sister. You had thought your family had been cruel, but Tamlin’s were gods awful. Tamlin still proved to be awful, he was the reason you all had been under the mountain. You were able to at least sympathize with him on that.

“The Spring Court revels in anguish.” Was all you could say.

He chuckled darkly, “always. Reckoning will come for them soon.” All of you. It had been forty eight years of this curse, it was quickly creeping up to fifty. Soon everyone would feel that reckoning. He finished bandaging your back, smoothing them all over.

He got up to put the supplies away, leaving you awkwardly feeling exposed, sitting there with your nightgown only covering your lower half. You started to pull it up, but he came out with a dark cotton shirt. He handed it to you. His eyes stayed locked on yours as you took the shirt.

“You can sleep here, I’ll wake you before the servants and guards start roaming.” He told you as you slipped the shirt over your head, standing up to discard your blood stained nightgown from yourself. The shirt had stopped mid thigh, the cool air hitting your legs.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you set the soiled gown on the chair by the fireplace. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“She’s expecting you to do some bidding later. Can’t have you restless and burned. The scars should be gone by then.” He said void of emotion, but you saw a flash of something unreadable in those eyes as he spoke. He untucked the sheets and blankets for you.

There had been a reason for his motives in helping you, of course. Not just out of pure kindness. You felt stupid for not thinking of that in the first place.

“I’ll sleep in the chair.” He grabbed the throw.

You got in the bed, pulling the covers up, the feeling of the silk soft on your bare skin. “This is your bed, it’s big enough for us both.”

“Inviting me to bed already?” He smirked at you. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, and he merely smiled walking to the other side. “No funny business.” He mocked sternly, slipping under the covers.

You rolled your eyes, before turning on your side away from him. “Goodnight.”

“G’night Lady Fox.” He snapped his fingers, the fire smoldering to just coals. Letting the sound of smoldering ember lull you to a restless sleep.

⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃.✮ ⭒❃

I hope you enjoyed the first part! Feel free to like, reblog, reply with feedback!! My requests are open to request any idea for fics, blurbs, or headcanons!!

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #Rhysand imagine #Rhysand x reader fic #acotar fic #Rhysand

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 1 year ago

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Confessions (Eris X Reader) *

Warnings: Angst, and my first fic with smut. So yeah, a little plot but mostly SMUT. Oral, female receiving, actual sex, and maybe a sweet talking kink.

Eris and the emissary both have hidden feelings, but Eris has never been good at expressing emotions, especially jealousy...

I walk down the hall, trying not to listen to the intensely infuriating male tailing me, bragging loudly about how back in the throne room how he had managed to convince his father to join forces with the Summer Court. My court.

“I’m just saying-” He drawled, staring at me as he kept pace with my increasingly fast footsteps. “Wasn’t it supposed to be your job to convince them? Maybe if I sucked up to Tarquin as much as you do, I could be emissary too-”

I turned towards him, diplomacy be damned- and pinned him against the wall, letting him see the raging power in my eyes. “I don’t know what your problem is today lordling, but I will not tolerate your ridicule.”

He grinned, fire swirling in his eyes as he looked at my arms, caging him against the wall. “How bold of you emissary, and here I thought you were here to please me.”

I snarled, dropping my arms and storming off.

Not looking back to see if he followed me, I went into my room, slamming the door behind me.

I hissed as I ran my hands through my ornately styled hair, ruining hours of hard work.

For the most part, I had grown to like the male. There was more to him than people thought. I had seen with my own eyes that when he had an option between good and bad, he chose to do good.

Sometimes we would flirt a bit too, but never had he spoken to me like that. Not like the way he did with everyone else.

I stormed over to my bed, grabbing one of the fluffy pillows and shoving it to my face, screaming into it.

I hated it. I hated this. Because for the last week, I had been working up the courage to tell him…

Fuck, I still couldn’t even imagine saying it to him, especially right now.

You know how the worst thing they could say is no? Well, Eris is a walking demonstration that isn’t the case.

I had seen him completely destroy people if he found them, or what they did distasteful.

Maybe I thought he was a good male, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be cruel if the mood struck him.

I looked in the long mirror that towered over me. I looked like an absolute mess.

I tore out the circlet I was wearing, along with all the other pretty jewels.

Staring into the mirror, I stared into my own eyes, speaking softly to myself.

“I love you. That’s all you have to say. Three stupid little words.”

Leaning my head against the mirror, I felt pathetic.

I was way too sober for this.

A few drinks later in the privacy of my room, not only was I still not ready, I felt even more pathetic.

Being a little tipsy, I decided to take a walk, hoping to calm my nerves and clear my head.

It wasn’t long before I was walking through the hallways, barely cleaned up enough to be presentable, but no one was out at this hour anyway.

I saw the hall that led to the library, and I paused.

The smell of books and the stories they held always cheered me up. I was sure a good book and a comfy chair could help my hurting heart.

I entered the library only to see the red headed male that smelled of cider, crisp autumn air, and fire that consumed my nights and days.

He looked up, noticing me right as I was turning to leave.

“Y/N, please…”

I paused, my breath caught in my throat as I waited for him to continue.

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked as he spoke, and I turned around to see his red hair hanging in his eyes as he looked up at me, lips slightly parted and his eyes wide with a mixture of guilt and loneliness.

“Why did you even say all of that in the first place?” I asked, letting the door close as I walked further in, standing next to him.

He looked up at me and swallowed thickly. “I was jealous.”

My breath caught as I stared into the depths of his beautiful red eyes. “Of who? Tarquin?”

His hands fisted and he looked away. “Of Tarquin, of all the males who look at you, of all the males you flirt with. I’m jealous of all of it.”

He laughed, the sound devoid of joy. “I’m pathetic, aren’t I? Not only do I not tell you how I feel, but I make you suffer for it.”

I don’t even think he realizes what he's confessing.

Moving so I was right in front of him, I took his face in my hands, forcing him to look me in the eyes. “You are not pathetic, you are not bad,” I pushed some of the hair out from in front of his eyes, “You have had a hard life, a life where your family taught you to be cruel. I see the scars you hide that your father inflicts. I know that inside you have the potential to be great.”

His eyes are tearing up, looking up at me as if I was some sort of deity, blessing him.

“I know this, because I love you Eris. I’ve loved you for so very long, and I know that you have a good heart.”

It takes him a moment to realize what I had said, the meaning.

Before he can respond, I lower my lips to his, kissing him softly before pulling back.

He blinked, his whole demeanor changing in milliseconds as he shot up, his hands interlacing in my hair as he pressed his lips to mine, his tongue exploring as I let out a slight whimper.

Drawing back, his breath came out in pants, and I could tell he was barely holding himself back.

Lust clouded my mind, and I barely heard what he said. “What?” I murmured, wishing his lips were back on mine again.

“Did you mean it? Do you love me?” He asks, and I’m suddenly stone cold sober at the vulnerability in his eyes.

I once again bring my hands up to cup his face, stroking his jawline gently. “I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I was just so sure you’d see my flaws and turn me away. I was a coward.” I say the last part, looking away so I don’t have to see the look on his face as he realizes what a huge mistake he’s made.

He gently guides my face so I’m once again looking him in the eyes, and he looks down at me with such love and wonder that I almost crumple right then and there.

“I would never turn away from you my darling. Never you.” He leaned down, placing his mouth on my neck, speaking in between kisses, “You are an angel.” I struggled not to let out a moan as the scent of his arousal hit me, his hands massaging my hips gently. “Ever since I first saw you, that first snarky remark, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

He drew back, looking down at me lovingly. “You are too good for me, but now that I know that you like me back, I will fight like hell to make sure I can keep seeing that sassy little smirk you love to send my way.”

“I love you.” I said, throwing my arms around his shoulders. “And I never want to be apart from you again.”

He growled, and I squeezed my thighs together, trying to keep my wits about me as I started to drown in this male.

Hoisting me up, he turned us, placing me on the large comfy chair he had just been lounging in.

“Do you want this?” He asked, his thumbs gently grazing my hardened nipples as his voice dropped an octave, staring at my already abused lips.

I nodded, and he stopped breathing for a moment, pinching one of my nipples while whispering into my ear, “Use your words.”

“Please Eris-” I begged, whimpering as I tried to pull him closer.

He grinned, his eyes predatory as he dropped to his knees. “Don’t worry angel, I’m going to take good care of you.”

Slowly, he felt every inch of my thighs, going to reach for my panties and hissing when he found me already bare.

“Oh naughty girl. Were you hoping this would happen?” He asked, chuckling as he pushed my dress up, placing my legs over his shoulders.

I opened my mouth to respond, but I only moaned as he dove in, his tongue flicking my clit and licking alternately.

I lost all sense of time as I was oh so slowly brought closer to the edge, that coil in my stomach tightening as I realized I wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

“Eris, I’m so close-” I said through whimpers, moaning as he once again flicked my clit.

I could feel him grin into my most private parts as he pushed two fingers into my slickness, curling his fingers and making my hips buck involuntarily. “Eris, please!” I whined, rolling my hips in an attempt get him to start moving again, and he laughed darkly.

“I’ve been waiting to taste you forever angel. When you come on my tongue, I want to be the only thing you’re thinking about.” He said, his voice so seductive I almost came right there.

“You’re the only thing on my mind all the time,” I said, letting out little noises of pleasure as he pumped his fingers, once, twice.

He grinned. “That’s my girl.”

He dove back in, tongue and fingers working in tandem, pushing me over the edge of bliss, calling out his name as my body shook from the pleasure he drew from me.

He kept going, drawing out my pleasure as long as possible.

I was a puddle as he drew his fingers out, sucking my juices off of them before leaning down to kiss me again.

I could feel his hardness pressing through his pants, and I pushed into it with the palm of my hand, eliciting a hiss from him.

“My naughty angel. Do you want my dick inside you?” He asked breathlessly, nuzzling my neck before dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin, and he groaned in time with my moan.

“I need you Eris. I need you in me now.” I pleaded, working at the buttons of his pants.

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, suddenly gentle. “Let me.”

Undoing the rest of the buttons, his member sprung free and my mouth watered from how big he was.

He picked me up, spinning us around so he was sitting and I was held aloft above him.

I waited for him to push in, but as I looked at his face, I realized he was giving me complete control.

Smiling softly, I lowered myself slowly, both of us moaning as I made it all the way down.

He helped me move up and down slowly as he spoke. “I’ve never felt like this for someone before. You scare the hell out of me because I’m falling, and I knew that if you told me you felt the same way, you would completely own me.”

I gasped as he started to rub my clit, unable to form words eloquently, I said, my voice guttural, “You’re mine.”

Our pace sped up and he growled, playing with my clit more roughly as his other hand went to my breast, massaging it as he took the nipple of my other breast into his mouth, making me moan in an obscene way.

He let go with his mouth, my brain frying as I once again reached the edge of bliss.

“And you’re mine.” he growled, thrusting hard and hitting that spot, and I let out a scream of ecstasy as he reached it with me, and he pushed his lips to mine, silencing me as we rode out the rest of our orgasms.

When we were done, he gently pulled me off, and I moaned.

“I love you, Angel.” He said, nuzzling my neck and pulling me into a hug.

I sighed in joy, my heart fluttering out of my chest. “And I love you Lordling.”

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