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yearning-for-autumn · 1 year ago

Note

So, here is my humble request 👀:

Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.

When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.

Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.

So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.

I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻

Would That I -- Part 1

A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!

Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health

Word Count: 3,638

Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.

Part 2 Part 3

Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.

“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.

“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.

“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”

His brow furrowed.

“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.

“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.

You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.

You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.

---

In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.

You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.

He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.

“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.

“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.

---

As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.

Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.

He loosed a breath.

“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.

“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yes.”

“Is Cass--?”

“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.

“Ok.”

Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.

“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”

You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.

“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”

You scoff.

“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”

Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.

“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”

Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.

“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.

Rhysand sighed.

“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”

---

It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.

You sat up worried.

“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”

“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”

You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.

“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.

You snuggled up to your eldest brother.

“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”

Azriel tucked you under his arm.

“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.

---

Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.

He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.

Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.

“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.

“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”

Eris rolled his eyes.

“Just show me your plans, Ash.”

“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.

“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.

In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.

He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.

It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.

When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.

Asher sighed,

“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.

“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.

“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”

“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.

“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”

“She is my mate.” Eris growled.

“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.

“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.

“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”

Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.

He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.

---

The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.

Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.

Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.

Disgust.

What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.

Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.

Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.

Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.

“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”

You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.

“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.

“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.

A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.

Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.

Would that you could be half as lucky.

Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.

---

There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.

“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.

“Eris will be there.” You said.

“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.

“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”

And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.

Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.

In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.

Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—

“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the magic word.”

“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.

A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...

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imsandra · 5 months ago

Text

I see

Pairing: Azriel x female reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N, a couple who have shared a long and deep connection, face a crisis in their relationship.

Warning: Angst, sadness

Word Count: 1489

Notes: Hi! This is my first time writing, I hope you like this story and leave your comments about what you thought, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is with the motivation to teach and with respect. English is not my language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.

The story is original, I wrote it myself. Please do not copy and plagiarize my story.

I appreciate the comments, reblogs and likes that I receive. Kisses ❤️.

Happy reading!

He see (2)

Azriel had always enjoyed waking up next to her every morning. His black-and-white days, she painted them golden like the light of day, like the sun at every dawn; with a calm like the waters of the River Sidra. But things fall apart, and time breaks hearts.

During the first years of their relationship, life was a garden with beautiful colors, a clear sky, many flowers, and a large fountain full of futures. And so it lasted for centuries, until that garden was no longer watered and that fountain gradually dried up.

Another night in which he doesn't show up again, again, again...

Tonight, was or is the night of their anniversary. Y/N sat in the dining room she had decorated as she had many times for a romantic dinner, dressed in a beautiful dress, but the master of spies never arrived.

The next morning, she heard the door of the room they shared open. She just kept pretending to be asleep and that she hadn't cried all night as she had the last few times, and he could only observe the figure of the woman who had once calmed every nightmare with the warmth of her arms, as if she were only constant agony instead of his peace.

Y/N was walking through the streets of Velaris on her way to work when Azriel bumped into her and the coffee she was holding spilled on both of them. The beautiful girl couldn't have a worse day than that, she was late and her favorite coffee was spilled on the chest of the handsome man who was now holding her hand to keep her from falling to the floor. When she finally looked up, each of their senses felt stunned, his and hers. Azriel could only see her beautiful eyes, her face kissed by the rays of the sun, her lips so pure, while she couldn't take her eyes off his honey-brown eyes like the coffee she ordered every morning, her dark hair like the night she saw through her window at home.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry," Azriel stammered, embarrassed, and released her hand as slowly as possible so as not to lose her warmth so quickly.

Y/N smiled slowly, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it happens to anyone, I should thank you for saving my butt from that horrible puddle on the floor," she said, laughing in the most nervous way she had ever been.

Azriel couldn't help but laugh. "I think I owe you a new coffee," he said as he looked at his stained shirt.

"Maybe, but I think it will be another time," she said smiling.

Who could forget that day?

"So, can you tell me where you were last night?" Y/N asked in a resigned voice.

"On a mission in the Summer Court," replied the shadow-singer, a vague answer that meant nothing to her.

"A mission, what smells of lotus flower and a touch of lavender? Tell me," she questioned with a calm voice but was more than broken.

"Y/N, let's not start this argument again."

For Azriel, it was just another argument, just one more he had that day. He couldn't see that he was doing things wrong. That with each passing day, he was breaking her a little more. He was the cause of it.

Y/N stared fixedly at Azriel, searching for any sign that he was willing to tell her what was going on. She was giving him an opportunity, and he was simply rejecting it.

"Honey, you look tired," Feyre whispered from the other side of the coffee table.

"I am, every day, I am," Y/N said in a choked voice as she tried to hold back her tears.

"Azriel is an important part of the family, but so are you. You're my friend and it hurts me to see you like this, like a ghost waiting in the corner of the room where he's not going to come in," Feyre told Y/N as she hugged her and stroked her hair.

There was no worse torture than feeling one's own heart bleeding in the darkness, while despair consumed her day after day, wondering what she had done to deserve such pain.

The front door opened and Y/N entered. She didn't expect to find Azriel in the living room. It was strange to see him sitting there with his gaze lost in the wall. He turned to look at her but could no longer see the spark that had kept the flame alive once, and she could no longer see that look that would tell her that no matter what happened, he would always be there. Two strangers living in the same house, two people who had been lovers.

Neither of them knew what to say, neither was willing to let go, not for love, but out of habit.

"I'm glad you're home," Y/N whispered, breaking the silence.

Azriel didn't answer. Deep down, he knew he had crossed the line, that it wasn't his home anymore.

"Did you ever think of telling me?" the woman he considered the love of his life moaned. "Did you ever see me through her when you kissed her?" as she continued to question, raising her voice a little more each time. "Didn't I make you happy?"

"Y/N..." Azriel whispered, before being interrupted by the woman who was his girl.

"No, no, don't try to lie to me," the beautiful woman shouted, knowing that her beloved would try to do it like the last time, but she was so tired.

"I wasn't going to, it was never my intention, but I had to do it to know," the shadow-singer expressed with a lump in his throat.

"Know what? That you didn't want to be with me anymore?" she affirmed with a broken voice.

"Yes," Azriel revealed.

The shadow-singer watched as the woman who was his, tears welled up in her eyes, as she crumbled at the affirmation of the fact she already sensed. Azriel couldn't help but wonder where his decision would lead him. Would she be okay? Would he regret it? He took a step forward to try to comfort her, and she couldn't help but take a step back when she saw that he wanted to get closer to her.

With the sharp pain in her soul and with tears running down her cheeks, the same ones he had kissed, she approached him while taking off the necklace Azriel had given her on their fifth anniversary as a symbol of pure love, one that would transcend even death. What a great lie, for her, in his eyes he was a liar, a promise breaker.

Y/N extended the hand that held the necklace with a yellow stone, a happiness that evaporated over time. Azriel was forced to accept it back, he knew her more than anything and yet he made his decision.

"I want you to leave," the woman ordered as she looked him directly in the eyes, for him to see how she broke him, how she broke them.

"She is my mate," Azriel revealed with watery eyes and a look of longing.

For him, a mating bond had always been important, feeling his other half through the bond, so he decided to get to know the other woman while Y/N always waited for him awake every night to welcome him home. She, who had always made him happy despite considering herself a complicated person and unworthy of that love. He wanted to stay with her, but his yearning was stronger.

"I see, you chose her, her who barely knows you, not me who has spent almost my whole life with you, wishing you would always spend time with me," Y/N whispered with a broken voice and full of pain. "I want you to leave Azriel," she asked again.

"Forgive me Y/N, I didn't want it to end like this," he murmured, and so the shadow-singer took his things and crossed the threshold.

The door he had crossed so many times with joy just because he would find her on the other side waiting for him, but she would never wait for him again, not anymore.

She collapsed on the floor when the door clicked shut, crying over the loss of a love, like a sad song in the dark room her heart beat. What she thought was going to be forever, was momentary.

I read them!

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster #azriel #acotar fandom #fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #shadowsinger x reader #night court #sarah j maas #sjmaas

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solbaby7 · 1 year ago

Text

Killing Me Softly

pairing: cassian x reader

[ part 2 ]

warnings: swearing, violence, blood, jealous themes, angst

summary: [based off that episode in greys were Mer got beaten by that patient who didn’t remember anything when they woke up]

—

It had started out as a normal fight.

Something small and fixable.

But somewhere along the way, things had snowballed and the playful Cassian you’d always known had disappeared before your very eyes. “You have a responsibility,” His tone is firm; slightly condescending and you can feel the attitude beginning to form when his arms cross over his chest. Cassian shoulders squared out, spine straight and wings pulled taut as he stood his ground. “The answer is no.”

“Cass, you’re not even listening. I told you I had this planned a week ago,” It comes out rushed, brows furrowed as you tried to meet something else besides that hard wall behind hazel eyes. “Besides it’s the med wing, they always have volunteers coming in to help—it’s just one date.”

“This really isn’t up for discussion,” His steely exterior nearly crumbles to pieces when he sees the way you visibly deflate, fingers grazing over the pretty dress you’d spent three days searching for with Mor and Cass had to pretend to be thrilled when you came barreling through his bedroom door with it in hand. You were beaming, smile so wide he thought your cheeks would split in two. “Now, go get changed.”

Guilt bubbles in his belly at the sight of you, jaw clenched tight and eyes blinking furiously to push back the frustrated tears; you had been really excited. You say nothing when you breeze past him, making sure not to touch him or make eye contact when you disappear back where you came and Cass doesn’t even need to turn around to know the way Azriel is looking at him. “Thought you said the med-wing was fully staffed? Easy day, you said.”

“Don’t even start.”

“It was just one date, she bought a dress and everything.” Az doesn’t buckle at the remorse that begins to scrunch at hard features, hands that clench and unclench at his sides as Cass battled a war that didn’t take prisoners. “If you won’t act on your feelings for her then leave her be so she can be happy.”

“Seriously, mind your fucking business.” Cassian all but snarls, golden eyes like burning lava when regarding his brother; the words hitting much harder than and punch. “She had a job to do and she’ll be here doing it. We don’t have time for stupid dresses and dates when people are dying.”

You don’t speak when you re-emerge in something more sturdy, medical equipment neatly organized in a bag that you held loosely in one hand. A whole folder of papers had been shoved in your grasp from a brooding General, inky hair flying away from his face when the wind cut through on his speedy departure. Frustration builds but you don’t allow it to overcome you, ignoring Azriel’s inquisitive stare, arms crossed over his chest and thick leathers hugging muscular thighs. “You okay?”

You sigh, gesturing to the stack of papers while you begin down the hall. “I’m busy.”

Times flows significantly slower now that you’re aware you’re missing something of importance; you’d really been looking forward to dressing up. Taking special time on your hair and the dark kohl that Mor insisted would make your eyes pop. The bittersweet daydream of what could’ve been is interrupted by the ruffled patient, his body covered in a serious of wrappings and notes near his side table on the tonics he’d been given—heavy duty sedatives and even stronger pain alleviants. Dosages so high there was no was he should’ve been moving, eyes blinking into consciousness and slurred speech stumbling from his tongue. “Where am I?”

“Sir, it’s okay just relax. I’m only here to help.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Your hands are gentle when they reach out for him in attempts to soothe but it only makes him more agitated, arms whipping around wildly and his volume steadily increases. “Who are you? Why am I here?”

“Sir, please. If you just calm down I can explain—you were hurt, I’m only here to help.”

Rational thought and logic make no home in the frantic patients mind, his terrifyingly sturdy grip latches onto your shoulder. You’re jostled in close, bandages and antiseptic falling from your grasp and you only have time for one sharp yelp before his hands are wrapped around your neck. It takes alarmingly little effort for him to get to his feet, slamming your form down on the cot he’d been recovering in for days. Broken noises pull from your throat, nails scratching at his arms and face and whatever skin you can get your hands on, punching and kicking and reaching for anything to help and just as a black spots line your vision you finally get a good kick in, enough to push you from his hands and your body tumbles to the floor with a thud.

Deep heaving breaths pull from you, sucking in as much oxygen as your lungs will allow and tears you didn’t even realize you’d let out are streaming down the curve of your cheeks as you struggle to gain your footing, to get out of the room but hands are back around your arms. A broken cry fills the air when your face is shoved into the wall, heavy weight pushing you over and over until blood pooled from your temple and choked noises caught in your throat.

You can’t even remember when it stopped, a darkness overtaking you but even that’s abruptly ripped away from you for what feels like just seconds later. Someone screaming, strangled, pain filled shouts when you feel a set of hands on your body, lifting you from the floor and setting you on a cool table. “She’s awake,” You hear Madja firmly speak, hands quick yet sturdy when reaching into her bag to pull out medical grade scissors. “Anyone not necessary needs to leave.”

“She’s family, we aren’t leaving her.” Azriel retorts even stronger, leaving no room for discussion and you can feel the warmth of his hands on your own when he looks down at you. “You’re going to be okay, we’re here. We’re all here.”

You can’t even form words, eyes watery and panicked when darting between both of his own and the grip you have on his fingers when the healer pressed down on your abdomen is enough to have him barking at her for pain relief. “I can’t just give her things without a full assessment.”

“Assess faster—she’s in too much pain.”

Everything goes in one ear and out the other; you keep trying to speak, to beg them to please stop poking there and prodding at that bruise and asking if it hurt there, because it hurt everywhere. Broken whines pull from your throat, chest heaving and limbs trembling so hard the table shook. “I can feel three—no four broken ribs, collarbone fracture on the right side, shoulders dislocated on the right as well.” Madja begins, voice almost void of any emotion as she drifts from a person to a woman in charge. The High Lord in standing near your head, murmuring encouraging words while soaking in the information, a grim expression shared between him and the shadowsinger. “Damage to the brain is possible with such intense trauma to her head; two males had to physically pull the patient off of her.”

“Why would he even do this?” Rhys takes the warm cloth handed to him and gently begins to drag it over your forehead, trying his best to comfort you through the agony. “She’s harmless—she wouldn’t have hurt a fly.”

“It was the first time he’d been lucid since we’d found him; he doesn’t even remember what happened.”

Half a dozen more healers filter in the room with handfuls of equipment, eyes filled with worry when regarding one of their own but they quickly shake it off and step into line to assist. Azriel snarls at Madja’s words, stomach clenching in disdain at the helpless groans you let out, head lolling from side to side, tears treading trails into your hair as the pain overwhelms you.

Madja skims a knuckle over your jaw on accident when accessing the harsh bruising at your throat and the yelp that pulls is absolutely devastating. “Grab the restraints and hold her down,” The healer commands to the others, insisting they wrap them tighter while ignoring the deep shouts of the two males guarding you like their lives depended on it. “Her jaw is broken,” A heavy sigh pulls from Madja, dark hair tightly braided behind her shoulders. “—I have to set it and it won’t be fun so help me or get out of the room so we can do our jobs.”

Rhysand’s fingers are running through your hair, Azriel’s thumb rubbing soothing circles along the back of your hands and you feel the exact moment they both go stiff, heads turning to face the towering figure that stuttered to a stop in the doorway. “I’ll hold her arms,” The shadowsinger holds your arms with a firmness you hadn’t experienced from him before, soft apologies being whispered into your ears when your heart rate surges. “Cass, hold her legs. She needs to be still.”

The General doesn’t move, eyes wide and mouth hung open when he takes in your form. The clothes that were cut from your body, the countless amounts of thick gauze and medical towels soaked with your blood pooling in piles on the floor. Warbled streaks of crimson red is a stark contrast against the white floors; the smeared print of ten fingers and two palms drag along the wall, the small side table and the around door handle—you’d just nearly gotten away. “Cassian,” Azriel snaps, the rough tone ripping him from his trance. “Hold down her legs, now.”

The shock doesn’t wear off even if he does do as he’s told, golden eyes stuck on every bruise, ears painfully attuned to every whimper, every cry and gut-wrenching scream when your jaw was forced open, the bone shifting with a deafening crunch. “Please, please, please.” You barely get the words out; speech slurred, sweat lacing your forehead, body shaking so hard from the pain you couldn’t tell what was up from down. “Please, make it stop. Please, I’ll do anything—please stop.”

“Give her something!” Rhys snapped, wiping away tears and bracing you from moving around too much.

Madja scoffs, outnumbered and overwhelmed she calls for a tonic, allowing a higher dose than normal and your relief is instant. Deep cries fade to drawn out whimpers before your whole form goes eerily limp. “This will not be an easy recovery; if you think that was bad, just wait.” Quick hands make work of setting your shoulder with a sharp jolt and another healer is wrapping it in thick bandages to keep it in place. “Why was she even in here? The form specifically stated that supervision was required for this patient—she shouldn’t have been alone.”

“She shouldn’t have been here at all,” One of the healers muttered under her breath, hands quick and careful when tucking your hair behind your ear and dabbing your face clean of the blood that had started drying. “—she had a date today. I took this shift for her so she could go. She’s been talking about it all week.”

A silence fills the room and Rhys follows the sharp stare Azriel had trained on the General who’d been stuck in place at your feet. His hands shake where they rest near your calves, gaze seemly stuck on the socks you wore, fabric torn and stained in your own blood and he can just picture how hard you’d struggled trying to escape. Cassian says nothing, not when the others seem to catch on; putting together a piece of the puzzle in his silence—the shock that settles in every pore and the guilt that radiated from his burly form.

He only watches as they collect the soiled gauze off the floor, antiseptic filling the space when they begin to scrub your handprints off the wall, sweeping up the drywall that gave way from the pure strength put into smashing your body to pieces. “Four broken ribs,” Azriel’s voice is unnervingly calm when the last of the healers filter out, the door shutting behind with a soft click. “—a fractured collarbone; she was thrown into the wall so hard her shoulder popped out of socket.” Rhys takes a step forward, a hand raised to stop the shadowsinger but he’s sharply cut off, Az’s tone getting just a bit deeper when he stalks towards Cassian like predators did their prey. “He nearly shattered her skull—she’d be dead if it weren’t for one of the other patients. They heard her scream and found me.” Inky shadows slink around Azriel’s shoulders, but it’s the hand that pushes Cassian a step away from you that finally gains his attention.

“Azriel—“ Rhysand begins to intercept but abruptly pauses when the spymaster continues, fingers pointed at the leader of the Night Courts armies.

“You made her stay today because you were jealous.”

The High Lord goes still, violet eyes sliding from one friend to the other. “What?”

“She had a date and Cass was jealous because he has feelings for her and is too afraid to say anything.” Azriel can’t seem to stop once he’s started; such pure rage burning beneath his skin at the selfishness that resulted in such unimaginable pain.

“You think any of that matters right now?” Cassian doesn’t even sound like himself; no booming voice or need to make his point, no logical facts and carefully thought out points. He can’t even stop looking at you, eyes glassy and shoulders slumped when remembering what you’d looked like just two hours earlier. “I thought I didn’t deserve her before but now—after this? I know I don’t.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar #cassian #cassian acosf #cassian x you #cassian angst #cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian fanfic #general of the night court

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dumb-ster-fire · 2 days ago

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Inner Circle Banter x fem!reader

Azriel x mate!reader

a/n: Just a random funny oneshot, because I love it when Y/N doesn't hold back and is a menace.

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Y/N tilted her head against Azriel’s shoulder, her fingers tracing along his forearm with lazy affection. Then, in a voice that dropped into something dark, something near-predatory, she whispered,

“You are mine.”

The room went silent.

Azriel arched a brow, barely holding back a smirk as he glanced down at her. Cassian’s eyes widened slightly. Mor stifled a laugh behind her hand.

Then—Y/N giggled. Bright, sweet, utterly unbothered, as if she hadn’t just sounded like a vengeful spirit claiming its next victim.

Cassian groaned, running a hand down his face. “I knew it. She’s finally lost it.”

Y/N turned her mischievous grin on him. “Finally?”

Azriel just exhaled, shaking his head as he pulled her closer. “You’re a menace.”

“You love it,” she sang, snuggling into him.

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, his arm tightening around her waist as she nestled into him. “That’s debatable.”

Y/N gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her chest as if he’d just delivered a mortal wound. “Debatable?!”

Cassian, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a grin. “I mean, he’s not wrong. You are kind of terrifying.”

Y/N turned her head slowly to him, her eyes gleaming. “Good. That means you know better than to cross me.”

Cassian raised his hands in surrender. “See? Terrifying.”

Mor, fully enjoying the chaos, snickered. “Honestly, I don’t know who’s worse. You or Az.”

Azriel just shook his head, his fingers idly stroking along Y/N’s back. “It’s definitely her.”

Y/N gasped again, but this time, a sly smile followed. She lifted herself just enough to whisper in his ear, her lips brushing against his skin as she purred, “And yet, you adore me.”

Azriel stilled. His shadows curled subtly around her, betraying him before he could even open his mouth.

Rhys chuckled from across the room. “He’s doomed, and we all know it.”

Y/N smirked, eyes bright with victory as she nuzzled against Azriel’s shoulder again. “Damn right he is.”

Azriel sighed, but there was no real exasperation in it—just quiet, resigned affection. His fingers continued tracing small, absentminded patterns on Y/N’s back as she lounged against him, entirely too pleased with herself.

Cassian, still grinning, leaned back in his chair. “You know, I think we should take bets on how long it takes before Az fully accepts his fate as a whipped male.”

Y/N lifted a hand, lazily flipping him off without even bothering to sit up. “We both know he already has.”

Azriel didn’t argue. He simply took Y/N’s hand, lowering it from its obscene gesture and kissing her knuckles like the smug bastard he was.

Mor whistled. “Damn, that was smooth.”

Y/N groaned dramatically, tossing her head back. “Ugh, I hate that he’s smooth.”

Azriel smirked, shadows curling playfully around her wrist before dissipating. “No, you don’t.”

Y/N grumbled under her breath, refusing to dignify that with a response.

Amren, who had been silently sipping her wine the entire time, finally chimed in. “If I have to endure one more minute of you two making heart eyes at each other, I’m going to start throwing furniture.”

Y/N lifted her head just enough to peer at Amren. “Bold of you to assume Rhys wouldn’t just shield everything before you even got a chance.”

Rhys, sprawled lazily in his chair, merely shrugged. “I mean, I would, but I’d let her throw Cassian first.”

Cassian let out an offended squawk. “Excuse me?!”

Feyre sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can we go one night without devolving into chaos?”

Y/N tilted her head, pretending to think. “No.”

Azriel’s quiet laugh vibrated against her, and that alone made the entire exchange worth it.

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fanttasttica · 7 months ago

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Strawberry tarts

Rhysand x reader Living in the Autumn court isn't nice, especially if you are female. Arranged marriages are common, so it wasn't surprising it also happened to you. What of course caught you off guard is that your future husband is Rhysand, High lord of the Night court, who is probably the most dangerous man alive. You heard horror stories about him and his court, but are these stories true? Warnings: misogyny, arranged marriage Word count: 8690 (oops)

Being the daughter of a nobleman in Autumn court wasn't something you would wish for. Truth to be told, it is quite the opposite actually. It is a common knowledge that when a female is born in this court, her only purpose in life is to be wed, often at a very young age. She is raised to dance, sing, entertain and obey her husband. She should do anything he wants, be his perfect little wife and of course, birth as many children, preferably boys, as possible. This is how your mother was raised and therefore, how you were raised. Your parents didn't love each other, a very few people in Autumn court loved their partners. And you knew.. maybe one? Two? It is maybe not that surprising that you no longer believed in love. It was better not to. So you could prevent being disappointed. The only thing you were slightly hoping for is for your husband to be at least a little kind to you and leave no marks on your body, unlike Beron, your High lord, did on his wife.

The feeling of accomplishment couldn't possibly miss your mother. In the end, she was marrying you off to Rhysand, High lord of the Night court. You still weren't sure how that happened. Your father was Beron's close friend, a very important member of his court. From what you were told, you understood that the High lord of night wanted to secure a peace between courts. In the past one engagement already happened, but wasn't successfully sealed in marriage. You heard stories about Morrigan and Eris, Beron's oldest son, an heir. Their story happened many years before you were even born and there still was some tension. Not wanting to risk another female from the Night court to change her mind, they probably decided to try it the opposite way and provide a female from the Autumn court from a man from the Night. And that man happened to be the High lord himself.

Your wedding gown was modest. A little bit wider skirt, plain without anything to make it more interesting. Neckline up to the neck. White, symbol of purity. This dress was making you anxious. They were suffocating you, or maybe was it the thing they represented? Marriage. Today, you are going to marry probably the most dangerous man in Prythian. You are going to be his wife. His property. You were terrified of the unknown. If you were to be wed to some lord from your court, you would at least know how cruel they were, but about him.. You knew nothing other than his title and name. And that many people feared him. But was he really that bad? Were they telling you these stories because they wanted to warn you or just scared you into submission? Maybe he was secretly kind? You didn't know the answers to your question and you certainly weren't going to get them before you two would be married.

As you stood before the doors that were going to open in a matter of minutes and lead you to the new chapter of your life, you put a mask on your face. You were determined to not let them see your fear. “Don't mess anything up.” Your father hissed into your ear, as he stood beside you, ready to walk you down the aisle. “I won't”, you replied, trying to convince him and also yourself. You didn't have the chance to say anything more, not that you actually had something to say to your father, before the doors finally opened.

There were many guests, who were trying to get a better look at you and, while they stood on both sides as you walked down the aisle. Your heart was pounding fast in your chest and your head was ringing, but you forced yourself to walk forward. You avoided looking at your future husband until the last second, however, when your father finally let go of you and placed your hand into the other, warm one, you looked up and then.. your heart practically stopped. He was gorgeous. His purple eyes, shining like stars in the sky, were looking at you with kindness, as if they were trying to convince you that everything will be better from now on. And you really really wanted to believe them.

The rest of the ceremony went quiet quickly. You said your vows and exchanged a kiss, well only on a cheek, which was a little bit disappointing but at the same time, it was a relief, because at the end, you didn't want to have your first real kiss in front of this massive audience. Now it was time for a party and that was actually nice. The attention of the guests turned from you to drinks, food, music and dance. You could breathe calmly for the first time today, even when your new husband was sitting next to you. He was so close you could feel his warmth, his scent and power that was radiating from him. Surprisingly, it wasn't scaring you at all. You should be scared of it, of him, that is for sure, but still.. you weren't and ironically, that was something that was scaring you a little bit. “You should eat something”, a velvet voice came from your husband, as you turned to look at him. “Are you not hungry? It is.. a long time since breakfast and of course the ceremony.. Or if you don't like this, I Can arrange something else for you. Whatever you would like.” Looking down on your untouched plate, touched by his kind offer, you decided to speak to him, for the first time. Wel.. for the first time since the ceremony, during which you promised him our loyalty and obedience. “No, but thank you, this.. will do.” You smiled, feeling a little bit shy, as you took your first bite. Citrus roasted duck with crispy potatoes, it wasn't that bad and it was true you should eat, as Rhys said, but your appetite was greatly affected by your nerves. You ate about a third of your plate, before putting your fork and knife down again, still feeling his eyes on you. “That is all?” he sounded surprised, but you only shrugged in response. “I am not that hungry today”, meeting his eyes. There was a hint of understanding. “Perhaps tomorrow I can take you to some restaurant in Velaris. To.. try something new, eat properly. Don't worry, I know what is good” as he flashed his smile at you, you were a little bit confused. “Velaris? What is that?” You never heard of it. Was it some restaurant? He replied simply, “Your new home.”

After hearing those awful things about your husband, you never expected his home to be so.. beautiful. No, magical is actually a better word. You heard about some place called Hewn city. It was described like a dark unwelcoming place, but this was quite the opposite. This city, Velaris, seemed peaceful, full of the happiness of its citizens. After winnowing, Rhysand, as he insisted you to call him, instead of My lord, brought you to this room. Your new room in your new home. It was.. strange to not be in your family's house. Knowing that if you were to go down into the living room, they wouldn't be there. Instead, there would be a bunch of a little bit scary and tall,well.. except Amren, people you knew almost nothing about. As Rhysand told you, many of them were not actually living there, but sometimes it looked like they did and since you didn't know what to think about it, you decided simply not to. Instead, you took a bath, with bubbles in it. Know you smelled like lavenders, while you brushed your hair, looking in the mirror and waiting for Rhysand. As your mother told you the night before, he was supposed to come and make you a women, whatever that meant. Your lack of knowledge wasn't helping to calm down your nerves, as you waited for him. But he never came that night. When you woke up the next day, the sun was already in the sky and birds were singing outside your window. It seemed like a nice morning, calm, until you heard someone almost shouting down in the gardens. To cover yourself up, you took a prepared robe, lying on a chair next to your king sized bet. Maybe you should not have been so curious, but wanting to know what was happening, brought you to a smaller balcony, which was connected to your room. Leaning to a railing, so you could see what was going on, you saw two mens and one woman. Now, actually sawing them, you recognized them immediately. They were at the wedding yesterday, High lords closest friends, his Inner circle. “I am deeply sorry if they woke you up, I told them to wait repeatedly, but.. they are too stubborn.” That velvet voice once again, like music to your ears, brought your attention to the left, where you saw another small balcony. There was a table, two chairs, one currently occupied by the High lord himself. He was drinking coffee, looking at you with a little smile. “It is okay. It's time to wake up anyways.” You didn't mind. “Maybe, but I wanted you to sleep in a little bit. Yesterday was a big day. Only if someone would listen to me for once and not ignore everything I say in my own court.” He raised his words at the end of his sentence, clearly talking to the group below. “Oh common Rhysie, this isn't fair. We only wanted to finally meet your beautiful wife, since you decided yesterday to only keep her for yourself.” The general's voice was provocative, which was new for you. Beron wouldn't tolerate it, however innocently it sounded. “Yeah, that wasn't very nice, Rhys.” That female, Morrigan, said with a grin on her face. The third one, Azriel, turned his attention immediately towards you, ignoring how his friends were taunting your husband.. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He said with a hint of encouraging smile in his eyes. “The pleasure is all mine. It is nice to meet you. All of you.” You smiled politely, looking from Azriel, to Morrigan and lastly Cassian.

After freshening your face and dressing up in a nice and elegant dress, you decided to be brave and go downstairs to eat breakfast. You were quite hungry, understandably, since you didn't eat that much yesterday. And you also wanted to get to know the others a little bit more. After your earlier encounter, it was more than clear that they weren't leaving, until they had the chance to speak to you first.

Walking in the hall and to the dining room was easy, thanks to the cauldron and you also had time to look around a house a little bit more. It was elegant here, the furniture looked really expensive. There were some portraits hanging. On the first one you saw, there was a whole Inner circle, then Rhysand with a crown on his head, you suspected it was painted on the day or day after he became High lord, and next to you, there was a portrait of two women. One looked solder, barely off age and the other one was clearly her mother. Although you never met them and couldn't remember their names, you recognized some similarities in their faces and Rhysand's. “My mother and sister..” Rhysand appeared next to you in a second you were absently looking at the two womens. “It is a pity they aren't here to meet you. My sister always wanted another sister, so they could make fun of me together and I am sure my mother would love you as if you were her actual daughter.” A little bit surprised at his statement, you looked at his handsome face. “How can you know? We barely.. know each other and those are some strong words.” There was a hint of mistrust in your voice. “I just know..”

The breakfast was delicious and others seemed really nice and friendly, which caught you off guard once again. Cassian, however scary he could appear, was one of the funniest people in the world, telling jokes and stories about everyone in the room and what they experienced together in all those centuries. Morrigan was the person who matched his personality perfectly. Although you didn't expect them to be like this, you were actually having a nice time. It was so different from the breakfast you usually had at home. Azriel along with Amren were a little bit quieter, but still friendly towards you and they tried to make you feel welcome. And Rhysand.. Actually you weren't sure what to think of him. After your little chat in the hall, you came to breakfast together and he helped you sit by pushing your chair. He was behaving like a true gentleman, completely opposite to what they told you in Autumn court. You were pulled to reality from thinking by Morrigan. “Y/N you simply must come with me today. I plan to go shopping. I need some new dress and you definitely too, because females just can not have enough dresses. And after that we can maybe go to this little bakery, they have the best sweets.” She was trying to persuade you to accompany her. You smiled at her, touched that she wanted to spend more time with you. Maybe she was going to be your first friend here? Well officially. Unofficially you started liking them all. “Well, I would like to join you,” you said truthfully, “If it's okay, of course?” You added as you looked over your husband, whose purple eyes were watching you. “Of course it is okay. You are free to do whatever your heart decides. Buy everything you need or simply want.” He smiled at you, looking over at Morrigan. “I am sure my cousin will more than happily be at your assistance, especially, I will be paying.”

“Morrigan, I just do not need so many things. This is getting really absurd.” You said after trying on maybe ten dresses. And many skirts and pants before. Yes, you could wear pants here. Another shock for you, since this was unacceptable in your home court. “Oh my dear friend, we barely started. I know you have many dresses from Autumn court, but now you are in the Night court. You need to look like it and more importantly, you need to feel comfortable. So now hush and tell me the truth. Do you really like to wear something like this? Or you simply were taught you have to wear clothes like this, although you do not like how it looks or how comfortable it is?” You knew from her face that lying wasn't the opportunity, so you sighed. “It.. doesn't really feel like me and.. it is not comfortable that much.” However simple it sounded, this was a big step for you, since you were always taught to not complain about anything, not having your own opinion. And something in Morrigan's face told you, she was having the same thoughts as you.

Leaving with three bags in each hand, you finally left the store. The amount of money you left there was enormous, but Morrigan was assuring you, Rhysnad wouldn't mind, so you decided to believe her and relax a little bit. Well, you surely made the owner happy and your closet fuller. You went to the bakery and bought a delicious strawberry tart, your favorite treat, and now you were just walking around the city, enjoying the sunny day and your new blossoming friendship. “It was an amazing day Morrigan, I am very thankful for you. It means a lot that you are so .. friendly to me.” You said a little bit shyly. “Oh Y/N.. It's been my pleasure. You are Rhysand's wife, one of us. My new friend. But don't you dare to think this day is over, we have one more shop we need to visit.” Her eyes sparkled in mischief. Only if you knew what was coming.

“Oh you can not mean this seriously!” You gasped, horrified, while looking at the next shop your friend picked. It was highly inappropriate for you to visit a place like this. “Oh, but I mean. Don't worry, you will be thanking me one day.”

Your day with Morrigan was fun, but the next day, you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed. Your feets were hurting, your head was hurting. You felt like she talked the hole in it. But inside you knew, you would be very happy if she would take you out soon again. And you also knew that if you really were to stay in your bed all day, you would be bored out of your mind after an hour. You need something to focus on, something to do. And then you remembered the strawberry tarts you had yesterday. Not wanting to go to the city, you decided to bake them on your own today. Fortunately, you knew the receipt already by your heart and in the kitchen was everything you needed. Nuala and Cerridwen, twins you met for the first time today, offered to bake that treat for you, but after some persuading, they agreed to only help you a little bit and let you roam in the kitchen mostly as you pleased.

The two females, who were accompanying you, were quiet and shy, choosing their words wisely. THe time you spent with them was like a silent dance, but not uncomfortable. It was rather peaceful and warm, almost like in home you never had but dreamed about having, when you were little. You were actually finishing the last one, when you heard a loud and funny voice that belonged to no one else than Cassian. “You are a lucky one Rhys. What would I do to have a beautiful wife like you, who also cooks, so the whole house smells nicely.” You blushed at his comment, not meeting any of their eyes. “For that complement, I think you deserve to have the first one to try it.” You said, taking the plate and placing the tart on it, along with a small spoon and handing it to him. You made enough tarts for all of them, wanting to only kill the time, but also make something nice, since they welcomed you with open arms. While Rhys said nothing, he was smiling at you, eyes shining adoringly, which caused you to blushed even more than before. “It is delicious, can I have one or two more?” Too busy looking at your husband, you didn't even notice that Cassian already managed to eat his first portion.

Instead of one or two more strawberry tarts, Cassian ate five in a few minutes. Looking at him surprised with Rhysand standing next to you, almost brushing his arm on you, he said “Cassian has a great appetite. I believe he would eat everything you made today, if he was allowed”, sounding amused. You giggled at this comment, meeting his gaze. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” He chuckled “I already spent many centuries with him.. Believe me when I say that feeding Cassian is pricey.” Cassian, not able to speak while having mouth full, gave his friend a middle finger. During your conversation with Rhysand, you took another plate and placed another tart there, offering it to Rhysand. “If that is the case, I think you should try it before Cassian eats it.” You saw the hesitation in his eyes, that went from your face to the plate and back. You chuckled a little bit nervously and your smile fell instantly, when he shook his head. “No, thank you. I.. don't have time. Perhaps some other day. I have to go now.” And with that, he simply vanished into the darkness.

Rhysand's sudden departure left you hurt and sad. Was something you said wrong? Was he not a fan of sweets? Was he allergic and you offended him because you didn't know? You blinked once, twice, before putting the plate on the kitchen counter. “That was.. weird.” Cassian spoke suddenly. You did not reply to him, thinking only about your conversation with Rhysand and blaming yourself for doing something wrong, although you didn't know what. But you were sure that your mother would be disappointed by this. You could almost hear her voice. “ Y/N?” You turned to Cassian. “You did nothing wrong, trust me. I don't really know what happened, but I promise you, he will come to his senses and apologize. Hopefully really soon.” You still weren't so sure about that and your mood wasn't so much better, but you offered him a smile, thankful for his kind words. “Here, take this plate too..”

You spent the previous day in the kitchen, cleaning, although Nuala and Cerridwenn insisted they would do it by themselves, you wanted to help. Cassian kept you company for the rest of the day, taking you to the gardens, telling you more stories about everyone in the inner circle, before taking you to your bedroom. He did manage to lighten your mood a little bit, so when you went to bed, no sad thoughts about Rhysand came, only sweet dreams.

The second time in a row, there was a present on your bedside table, when you woke up. Yesterday, you thought that Morrigan left there for you a beautiful necklace with a moonstone in it, you saw through the glass in one jewelry store which you based on on your walk. Morrigan was trying to persuade you to buy it, but it seemed so pricey that you decided not to. You already spent so much of Rhysands money.. But now you suspected that perhaps you were wrong by guessing it was her, who bought it. No, you knew you were wrong, since today you found a plate with different delicious looking sweets on your table, alongside with a note.

“I know this apology isn't enough and that you also deserve an explanation, why did I leave yesterday so suddenly, but I can not give you that yet. I hope you understand and I promise you.. You did nothing wrong. - yours Rhys ”

After reading that note from Rhysand and eating what he sent you, you felt a little bit better. You were not angry at him, rather at yourself, still not knowing what you did was frustrating. Nuala and Cerridwen were busy and since you couldn't find anyone else, you just wandered around a house, trying to find something to do. You were not in the mood to bake like yesterday, you did not have any work you could do. There was only you and your thoughts. About how your life changed, surprisingly to the better, about your new friends.. about Rhysand. You were thinking especially about him and your friends, Cassian and Morrigan. Did they report your conversation to him? After reading that note for the second time, you saw a similar formulation of words like Cassian used the previous day. It was weird. You were dying to know what that meant, but you were too shy and embarrassed to ask anyone. Another reason why you needed to find something to do. Otherwise, you would probably go crazy because of these thoughts that plague your mind.

After another few minutes, you found a small library. At first, you hesitated a little bit, but since the doors were unlocked, you went inside. There were mainly books about the history of Prythian, courts, High lords of current and past time, books on wars and tactics, but in the small corner, you found a small shelf with maybe ten or twenty romance books. Your mother did not allow you to read them. The only ones you were allowed to read were about good behavior, what it takes to be a good wife and similar topics and after some time, when you slowly began realizing that true love will probably never be something you are going to have, you stopped begging her to let you read at least one of them, so you could see how it looks between man and women who love each other truly. But now, with your new freedom and with a new glimmer of hope inside your chest, you picked the first one, sat in the chair that was standing next to a window and began to read.

The time was passing rather quickly. You were almost in the middle of the story and not paying attention to your surroundings, when you heard someone unintentionally hitting the table and then cursing slightly. You turned quickly, shocked by this interruption, to find Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked worriedly, as he turned his attention to you. “Yeah, ehm.. Don't worry. I am fine.” You raised your eyebrow, not quite believing him, since he was Spymaster, known for being stealthy and composed.. Nothing like now. That is when you realize he is holding something in his hands. Book. He sees where your eyes are and smiles slightly. “I guess there is no hiding anymore. I am.. returning this.” He says, coming to the shelf where you took the book and placing it on its right place. You giggle a little. “If it helps you to feel better, you are the last one I would suspect of reading romantic books. I guess you should never really judge the book by its cover.” He nods, sitting on the next free chair in front of you. “I think very few people would dare to even think that I like reading these. But sometimes..” He fell silent and you smiled knowingly. “It is nice to read about true love and dream that maybe someday it will also come to you.”

It did not surprise you, when the next day when you woke up, you found a brand new book on your bedside table, alongside with a note.

“I hope you will like this one, although I am not an expert in this field, it's apparently very popular. I would also like to take you to dinner tonight, of course only if you want to and will not be in too much exciting part of your book. - yours Rhys”

Of course you did say yes to his invitation. It would be rude if not and also against everything your mother taught you. And what is more important, you wanted to go. After all, he was your husband, you wanted to get to know him better. What did you even know about him? That he was Hugh lord, lived in Velaris, he loves his friends and is kind. And maybe does not like strawberry tarts, but that is everything You wanted to know more. What he liked, what he did not like, his hobbies.. Everything. Anything. Anything he was willing to share with you.

Your mind was once again full of him. Not being able to concentrate and not sure what to even wear, you were more than happy to meet Morrigan at the breakfast. It was only the two of you, a perfect opportunity to ask her to help you prepare for tonight. She agreed, happy, that you asked her and was currently styling your hair. “Don't you think it is too much?” You asked hesitantly. She made you wear a purple dress, a color that matched your husband's eyes perfectly. And it also went really well with that necklace he gave you a couple of days ago. “Not at all, I think you look perfect. Rhys will not be able to take his eyes off you.” There was a slight hint of provocation in her voice, which made your cheeks turn bright red. “Anddd, I am done. You look stunning Y/N!” As you looked in the mirror, you started to believe her.

You were waiting in your room, talking with Morrigan, when you heard a knock on your door. Not wasting any time, you went to open them to relieve Rhys standing here, dressed in a suit that matched your dress and with a bouquet of colorful flowers in his hands.”Hello, Y/N darling.” There was a smirk on his face, so significant for him. “Hello.” You answered, looking down at the flowers he handed to you. “For you. Their beauty is nothing compared to yours, but I still hope you will find them at least a little beautiful.” You blushed at his comment, starting to hate how easily he can affect you. “Thank you, they are really beautiful. Perfect.” You took them, smelling their sweet scent, before Morrian came closer and offered to put them in a vase, before turning to face Rhys with a grin on her face. “Make sure she is home before midnight.”

Still chuckling a little bit at Morrigan's last comment, you took Rhysand's hand he offered you and stepped outside your beautiful home into the night. It was perfect. The weather was amazing and the streets you walked through smelled of lemon, sea and mystery. “After everything you have done for me, especially for those gifts.. I think that I should be the one inviting you tonight.” You said, starting a quick conversation before you would get too nervous or better say aroused due to how close he was. You could feel his warmth and smell his undoubtedly expensive cologne. He chuckled slightly, “Oh my darling, don't you ever think about that. You deserve those things. You deserve everything you could possibly want and I will spend my life ensuring that, as I promised you at our wedding.” He reminded you and you shook your head, not understanding, how could anyone think of him as a cruel person. “You.. exaggerate. Not wanting to give up so easily, you decided to speak. “I will be honest.. Before we got married, I was worried. However, after you took me here and I had a chance to get to know you better and of course, your friends too.. I think.. I think I really like it here. You made me feel welcome and happy more than I was ever before in my life.” You said, looking at the ground. Maybe a little bit ashamed. After all, your mother said that no perfect woman would ever complain and although you didn't directly, you indicated it quite clearly. “So, what I wanted to tell you is that I am really grateful. For your gifts, for.. everything” You looked him in the eyes, smiling slightly. At first, he didn't say anything, there was a pity in his eyes and what you didn't see was that inside he was fuming and wanted to punish everyone in the Autumn court. But not to scare you, he simply took your hand and kissed it gently. “You are welcome, my darling.”

When you came to the restaurant, after a short walk through the city, which you enjoyed, you found the place completely empty, well except for people who worked here, of course. Giving Rhysand a questioning look, he answered immediately “I wanted us to have privacy.” He shrugged, as if it was nothing and you blinked at him. “Try to tell me ever again, that you do not exaggerate.” You mumbled to yourself quietly.

You were full. After the appetizer, soup and main course, you felt like moving wasn't an option for you anymore. When the waiter asked, if you wanted a dessert, you looked over at Rhys. In your eyes, there was an obvious answer to this question - no. But he chuckled. “Yes please, bring us two pieces of your lemon and lavender cake.” Taking a sip of your wine, you sighed. “A new information for me.. You don't understand signals very well.” He simply leaned back on a chair with a smirk on his handsome face. “Oh, but I do. What I however can not do is leave this restaurant without you trying their best dessert. Everyone loves it.” You raised your eyebrow. “You do too?” He nodded, now leaning a little bit closer to you. “About that day when I.. left so suddenly.” He paused, unsure what to say, but you didn't pressure and gave him time. “It is okay, if you don't want to share it with me. I understand.” There was a hesitant smile on your face and in your mind, you were screaming the opposite words that left your mouth. He shook his head. “I do. I want to share it with you, but.. I think that for a while it is better not to. You are still new here and are only settling in your new home. I don't want to overwhelm you.” You nodded, trying to be as understanding as possible, before the waiter came and handed you your piece of cake.

“Are you full?” Rhys asked for about a second time since you left the restaurant and you just laughed. “Yes, I am full, don't worry.“ You assured him, squeezing his hand a little bit. You had a great time with him and it was sad that your night was coming to an end. During this time, you also became more relaxed around him. Someone who wouldn't know you and saw you walking with him in the streets right now, wouldn't probably guess the situation you were in. It seemed real. This.. something, what became growing between you. “I'm just making sure.” He shrugged, at the same time as you thought something about mother hen. “Do you want to go flying?” He asked suddenly, catching you off guard. “Flying?” You asked. He smiled and within seconds, large wings appeared on his back. You gasped in astonishment. “They are beautiful..” Your voice was low. Wanting to feel them underneath your fingers, you reached out to them, but he stopped you. Gently taking your hand in his bigger one. “Ehm.. They are quite sensitive.” He tried to explain. “Oh, I am sorry, I didn't want to hurt you!” Your eyes widened, apologizing. “No, you wouldn't hurt me. It is only when something touches Illyrian wings.. That person can become aroused.” At this moment, you wanted to sink into the ground more than ever before.

Although you were embarrassed, you still agreed to fly, wanting to see the city from above. As your husband took you in his arms, your heart started beating faster than usual. You wanted to sink into his touch. Smell his perfume, do something you never did before. You weren't sure what it was. This feeling was new for you. But you were enjoying it. “Hold on tight.” Rhys said, moments before he finally took you in the sky. His sudden movement makes you close your eyes, but his movement becomes steady, you open them, taking in the beauty of the city below. It was perfect. This night, Rhysand. Everything. This night was everything.

You spent the next few days with your husband. From that night he took you to dinner, you found yourself yearning for his company. At first, you were a little hesitant, not wanting to disturb him with your presence. After all, he was High lord with responsibilities. But he seemed to enjoy your company as much as you did his, so when he one day took you to his office, there was a new set of comfortable sofa and armchair, next to a window. Perfect place for reading you began to enjoy. From that day, you went to his after breakfast regularly. Sometimes you two were talking, other days on the other hand, you spent this time in a comfortable silence. Eating lunch together also became some sort of habit of yours. Slightly different were evenings. You once again went shopping with Morrigan, who was very curious about your relationship with her cousin. Sometimes you spend your evenings with Cassian or the whole Inner circle, sitting, talking and drinking Rhysands expensive old wine, while sitting close to him. This was also your plan for this evening, until Morrigan decided that it is time for you to visit Rita's.

Since Morrigan did a really good job by picking your dress for your dinner date with Rhys, you decided to trust her also this time, but seeing what she prepared for you to wear, you began asking her sanity. This dress were.. interesting. They were black and like the night sky they sparkled. As if there were tiny little stars. And they also were very short, which was new for you. Although you did started dressing differently than in the Autumn court, you even tried pants and really liked them, but.. The only thing that was calming you down was that she was wearing a dress of similar length, only in red and with a deeper neckline. “If you were not Rhys's wife, I can guarantee you Y/N, that I would do anything to take you home with me tonight.” You blushed and laughed and the same time. “I mean it, you look sexy! Where were you hiding that ass, girl?” You shook your head. “Morrigan, tell me the truth. Are you drunk already?” You raised your eyebrow at her and she grinned in response. “Me? Drunk? Always.”

The plan was to get ready with Morr and meet guys and Amren at Rita's. You were shocked that Amren even agreed on going. Although you were in Velaris a couple of weeks already, you barely spoke to her. But Morrigan assured you, that is how Amren simply is and so you never questioned it again. When you arrived, the place was full. There was a body on body, people were dancing, drinking and singing, alongside with a singer on a little stage. If you were not holding Morrigan's hand for your dear life, you would probably get lost and never be found again. Luckily, you managed to find the others rather quickly. They were sitting at the table in the corner, not so far away from the dance floor, already with some drinks. “Look who finally decided to show up.” Cassian greeted you with a sneering remark on which Morrigan replied by giving him a middle finger, which was normal for them, as you found out some time ago. “Oh shut up, Cass. Maybe you should sometimes be late and at least try to take care of your appearance.” You began ignoring these two, since their bickering would probably last all night. You rather said hello to the other three people who were sitting here, Amren, Azriel and lastly Rhysand. You felt his eyes on you from the second you showed up here and you knew that you would be staring at him all night probably too. He was wearing black. The buttons of his shirt were open, so you could see part of his muscular chest. “Hello darling, you look ravishing.” He smirked at you hungrily.

You were having your third drink. Normally you would take one, beautiful you were to survive this night, you needed more. It was just too much. People were almost having sex right on the floor, music was so sensual and Rhys.. His normal gentleman's behavior probably stayed at home today. His large warm hand was on your exposed thigh, striking it gently, each time going a little bit more up. As the time passed by, Morrigan went dancing with some girl she met at the bar, when she was going for her second glass of wine. Cassian disappeared to the dance floor and Amren was having a conversation with Azriel. That left you and Rhysand practically alone, not that you were complaining. You were only still rather shy for this. The band started playing some slow music, giving the dancers an opportunity to slow down their rhythm and enjoy each other's touches more intensely. That is when Rhysand leaned closer to you, whispering in your ear. “Would you like to dance?” The way his breath brushed lightly against your neck gave you goosebumps, but you still nodded slowly.

When you took Rhysand's hand, he led you on a dance floor. Some people around you probably recognized him, since they tried to give you more space, but there still were many people around you, not that you were paying them any attention. No. You had eyes for only one person and that person was your husband, who was holding you close. His arms were around your waist as you moved slowly on the floor, grinding at each other like fools. If you would look back on your table, you would be able to see that both Cassian and Morrigan returned and all of your new friends were currently toasting, pleased with how things had turned out between the two of you, perhaps thanks to their efforts.

Not being able to hold back anymore, you looked from Rhysand's eyes on his lips, biting yours. It was a simple invitation for him. The one he gladly accepted, as he firstly gently stroked your lip with his thumb, before slowly leaning to you, giving you time to change your mind, before he finally brought your lips together in a slow, long wanted kiss. It lasted maybe a couple of seconds, but it was enough for the mating bond to snap for you. Like a golden thread it led straight to Rhysand and when you looked him surprised in the eyes, you knew, you felt, that this wasn't something new for him.

As the first hint of hurt and sadness appeared in your eyes, the sudden wave of darkness surrounded you and carried the two of you home. The first thing you did was to take a step back, trying to get away from him. “Why? Why didn't you tell me this before?” He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I didn't want to overwhelm you or scare you. I thought it was better to not tell you anything for some time. “ He started, not so good. “How long did you know?” You asked quietly, wanting to know something more before deciding what to say to him. “A little bit more than. Almost two years.” You gasped. Hurt by him sat on the chair, refusing to look at him. “All my life, someone.. Someone else always decided what was good for me. What I should know, what not. When we were getting married, I thought that.. It will be the same with you, but during these last weeks you were.. So kind to me that I really started believing I can trust you, but now? I.. I don't know. You knew you were my mate for so long and you did not tell me? Why? What did I do to offend you so much? Am I not good enough?” He began shaking his head rapidly, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “No, no that's not it. You are perfect, believe me. You are everything I ever wanted, what I dreamed of.” Releasing breath, with teary eyes, you looked at him. “Then tell me.. How exactly did you find out, so you decided it was better for me to not know?”

The room was silenced, as Rhys poured himself a drink. He offered you one, but you refused it. You already had enough today and you wanted to concentrate on what is he saying. He took a deep breath before beginning. “I was in the Autumn court, trying to sort out some problems Beron had at that time. He held a ball, where I was invited, maybe you remember it.” You nodded, only for confirmation that you did. “The ball was just beginning, when I saw you enter with your parents by your side. I remember our eyes met, only for a brief moment, but in that moment, the bond snapped for me, but clearly not for you.. That same night I began to plan. I asked Azriel if he could find out as many information about you and your family as he could and in the morning, he already handed me a whole file about you. I learned your name and about your situation. Considering how many people in Autumn court behave, for me it was not surprising that your parents were not so.. good people. You were so young, you are still young and your father was already trying to find a partner for you, so he could marry you off for his gain. I knew that I could not let that happen. Not only because of my personal interest, but because most males in Autumn court abuse their partners and see their wifes only as breeding mare.” There was a disgust in his voice. “So I immediately came to Beron and proposed the idea of marriage between our two courts. Trying to win him on my side, I said I wanted to fix how last time something like this was about to happen but it did not, affected relationship between our courts. I told him he could even pick a list of some suitable girls, hoping you would be there, since Beron was close to your father. Well he agreed and also luckily for me, included you on that list. I tried to not be too eager to marry you, because I did not want to cause any suspicion. So I waited a few weeks before choosing. Then some paper work was needed and it took time before the wedding planning could finally began. I wanted nothing more than to go to your house and just took you with me to get you out of that place, but I was worried that I would put you in danger. Beron is awful, I believe I don't have to explain it to you.That is also why I didn't tell you before. Why didn't I engage in anything.” You nodded, understanding what he did and you were thankful to him, but it still hurt a little. “But why didn't you tell me anything after I came here?” You dared to ask. He swallowed nervously. “You were so young and you were already going through a lot. I knew you were probably scared of me, scared of this place at first. Maybe my decision wasn't so right as I thought it was, but please believe me that I did it with only the best intentions.”

You knew Rhysand probably really didn't mean to do anything bad by his decisions, but you still had a right to be hurt and disappointed. It's been two days since the revelation and you spent them in your room. Nuala and Cerridwen brought you each food. Morrigan, Cassian and Azriel also visited you, telling you that they understand why you are angry with Rhysand. You also found out that although you thought otherwise, they didn't know about the bond. They suspected it, yes, but he didn't tell them anything. They found out after you didn't show up at breakfast the day after you went together to Rita's. They of course saw you disappear with Rhys, but thought it was for other purposes. You thanked them for their words of support and their visits and also begged them not to tell Rhysand anything, which they promised. You deep inside knew that you would forgive him and move on. He was not only your mate, but also your husband. Husband you began to love, which you realized after your argument.

Your love for him is also one of the factors that drove you mad. You stopped believing that love existed. You felt like a fool that you, after everything that you have been taught, after what you saw, after everything you have been through.. You did in fact fell in love. You were so confused, about your feelings, what you thought you should feel, what happened.. That you welcomed knocking on your door gratefully.

You would never suspect that behind the door, there would be Amren standing, asking if she could come inside to talk to you. You of course led her, closing the door behind her, gesturing on chairs where she can sit, while you returned to your soft bed. “Girl, I am probably not the person to tell you this, but I think you need to pull yourself together.” You would lie if you would say that her words did not shock you a little bit. She wasn't even trying to chat a little before dropping this on you. “I know and understand that you are hurt by what Rhys did, he is an idiot sometimes, but be honest with yourself. By this, you are only punishing both of you and why?” She shook her head. “I have been alive for.. a couple of thousands years. I saw many people get together and then break up. But I do not think this is what either of you want, am I right?” You sighed and nodded. You will not leave Rhysand because of this. You knew that, however you weren't sure what she was trying to tell you by this. “So.. If that is not the case, why are you doing this? Why waste time by being angry at each other.I think you both went through a lot to be this stupid.” And in that moment, you understood.

Not wasting any time, you quickly hugged Amren and before she could even react, you started running to the kitchen. She was right after all. Your life wasn't easy, so why are you making yourself miserable even more? Rhys made a mistake, but that happens. But what you realized is that you love him enough to forgive him. You loved him. That warm feeling spreads throughout your whole body. And thanks to that, it all seemed so simple.

At first, you simply wanted to grab something quick and go straight to Rhysand's office, but when you saw strawberries lying on the kitchen counter, you couldn't help yourself. Knowing the receipt by your heart paid off, when you were finishing the first strawberry tart, placing it on the plate and storming out of the kitchen with it, completely ignoring unfinished ones. You were sure Cassian would gladly eat them even now. You rushed to your room, to freshen up yourself and to change, before, with a plate in your hand, finally knock on your husband's office. “Come in.”

Before you opened the massive doors, you took a deep breath. Although you were absolutely sure about this, like anything before in your life, you were also still nervous. When you came in, you saw Rhys sitting behind the table, which was full of papers. To be honest, he looked like he didn't get too much sleep and that made your heart hurt. He looked up, meeting your eyes. His face lit up a little bit, in a small hope, when he saw what you were carrying in your hands. He watched your steps, before you were finally standing right in front of him, placing the plate on his table. “I made this, just for you.” You announced, biting your lip. “Are you.. sure?” His voice was hesitant. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to devour that tart and then you, but even now he was giving you a chance to change your mind. You walked around the table, he turned himself in his chair to face you, which you took as an opportunity to sit on his lap. His hand instinctively found your hip, holding you close so you wouldn't fall down, as you took the spoon, scooped up a little part of that tart and brought it to his lips. After he looked into your eyes once again, he ate the food you offered him, groaning at its taste. That sound was so beautiful, so sinful.. It made you thank Morrigan that on your first shopping spree together, she took you in that one certain shop, where you bought matching sexy underwear you were currently hiding under your dress.

688 notes · View notes

faithisyours · 6 months ago

Note

can you write something about az eating out reader while she reads!

Absolutely obsessed with this request. Here you are, Love. Hope it’s everything you hoped for and more 🫶

Just Keep Reading

Azriel x Fem!reader

CW: smut, oral F receiving, fingering, I think that's it

Word count: 1.5k

It’s your day off, and on your days off you tend to curl up with a good book and read for the entire day. So that is what you are doing, curled up in your reading chair in the corner of your living room reading a smutty little romance novel Nesta had recommended. And it’s safe to say it was a good one, because you can't seem to put it down.

You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been reading until Azriel comes home, pulling you out of your reading trance. And just as you’re getting to the smutty part, too. As he walks into the living room, you look up from your book and give him a warm smile. He returns it, and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading into your shared bedroom to change into something more comfortable than what he’s currently wearing.

You continue reading, which now has just turned to pure smut. You look towards the bedroom to make sure Azriel doesn’t see your giddiness, then you dive into reading. Subconsciously, your thighs start to rub together, and your scent gets sweeter, thicker.

All the way from in the bedroom, Azriel can smell you, or rather, the change in how you smell. He pokes his head out, looking to see what has gotten his mate smelling so sweetly. Silently he makes his way back to the living room to find you curled up even tighter than you were before, nose buried in your book, and the smell of you getting headier by the second.

When you notice he's standing right in front of you, you startle, looking like a deer caught in the faelights. You watch as a small grin takes over his mouth. “What are you reading?” he inquires, an eyebrow raising.

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly.

“Is this one of Nesta's books?” You don’t respond, but he already knows the answer. He takes a step closer to you. “How long have you been in this chair? Your legs must be stiff by now, no?” The change in subject is suspicious, but you're hoping this means he’s going to drop the fact that he just caught you reading smut in the middle of the afternoon. Without waiting for an answer, he kneels down in front of you and grabs one of your legs, pulling it towards him. You let out a small squeak at the sudden change in position. Azriel, as always, was right in guessing you’d be stiff. “Keep reading,” he says when he notices you've stopped.

He starts massaging your leg, staring at the ball of your foot and making his way up to your calf muscle, working his thumb in soothing circles. After a couple minutes he pulls your other leg out towards him, massaging that one too. It would be enjoyable if you weren’t so pent up already from your book.

As you continue reading, the chapters just keep getting smuttier. No wonder Nesta highly recommended this one. You can feel slick gathering at your core, can smell your own arousal getting thicker in the air around you. Azriel’s grip on you gets tighter, so you risk a glance over the top of your book to look at his face. His jaw is clenched, but that’s the only fault in his mask. He continues massaging your legs, paying seemingly no mind to you otherwise.

Even though Azriel looks fine, internally he is not. Your scent is driving him mad, and the fact that it isn’t him causing you to smell like that is getting him wound up faster than usual. A soft gasp escapes you, and that’s when he snaps. His hands glide up your thighs and towards the top of your lounge pants, pulling down on the waist.

“Azriel, what-”

He cuts you off. “Shh, just keep reading.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says. Or at least try to do as he says. Your brain short circuits a little when he pulls down your pants, panties along with them, the motion jerking you bottom half closer to the edge of your chair, closer to his mouth. You're naked from the waist down, and all you can focus on is Azriel’s gaze burning holes into your flesh.

“Az, seriously what-” you try to protest again, but he cuts you off a second time.

“Keep. Reading,” he growels, and then his mouth is on you, biting and licking and sucking his way up your thighs towards your soaked core.

You’re trying to read, and it's kind of working, until Azriel parts you with one hand and gives you a long, thorough lick up your core and hums.

“Lucky me,” he says between licks, “To have a mate wet and ready for me when I get home.” you squirm at his words, at the attention he's giving your clit. The hand that parted you goes to your hip, ceasing your squirming, the other curls around your thigh, digging fingers into flesh. “Keep reading or I stop,” he warns, when he sees you've stopped again. You take a deep breath and continue.

You manage to read a couple more pages before doing anything other than moaning seems impossible. Both of your legs are now swung over Azriel’s shoulders, and the hand not clutching your book in a death grip is white-knuckling the arm of the chair. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue teases at your entrance. You don’t want him to stop, but right now all you can do is lean your head back and pant.

But then he does stop, and it’s earth-shattering in a bad way. You look down to meet his eyes, which are full of determination and hunger. “Read,” he demands. You blink a couple times in hopes it will clear your mind, and start reading again. It takes you a second to find where you were, but you eventually find it and begin. But Azriel doesn’t. “Aloud.” His voice is low, so low you barely hear him. “Read aloud,” he states again. It takes you a second to completely understand what he is saying, what he’s asking you to do. But you know not to question Azriel when he’s like this, so you shove your pride down and start reading.

“His hand drifted over my thighs,” you start, glancing over your book to Azriel, making sure he heard you. “And his touch was like liquid fire.” Azriel’s head finally drops down to between your thighs, pressing kiss after kiss to your thighs and pussy, teasing, taunting his touch.

“His fingers parted me,” you continue, “feeling how wet I was, how warm and ready I was to take him.” Azriel groans at your words, sending shockwaves through your body. ““So…so sweet,”” you stutter, trying to regain some of your composure and failing miserably as Azriel starts using his tongue again. ““So soft,” he cooed against my clit. I…”” you gasp as he works a finger into you, curling to find that perfect spot.

“You what?” he prompts, urging you to continue. If only it was that easy.

“I squirmed in his grasp, but…his other hand,” your panting, whimpering between every phrase, “His other hand circled my waist, pinning me back against his chest.”

Your divine noises are music to Azriel’s ears. And hearing you recite the filthy things you read is even more of a turn on. He should do this more often, he thinks, but for now, he adds a second finger into you on a hard thrust, which has you moaning his name along with a slew of other expletives.

“Oh my gods, Azriel, please,” The fingers of your free hand reach for Az’s head, threading through his thick dark hair. “Plese, don’t stop.” He wants to make you keep reading, wants to hear those filthy words come out of your mouth, but your begging has him doing exactly as you say. He doesn’t stop. In fact, he speeds up, thrusting his fingers into your dripping heat, licking and sucking and nipping at your clit.

And then you’re coming, clenching onto his fingers so he can barely move them, thighs bracing his head as you ride through your waves of pleasure. And he works you through it, continuing the attention on your clit, rubbing his hand over your thigh to sooth you. Eventually you return to your body, becoming aware that your book is now on the floor, you’ve just come in the middle of your living room, and that Azriel still has that hunger in his eye.

“Ready for round two?” he asks, but it isn’t really a question. You shed yourself of your top layers, getting completely naked, and launch yourself at Azriel, who catches you and carries you towards the bedroom, much more fun to be had in there. Of course you’re ready for round two.

—

Also, just wanted to mention that I started a ko-fi for tips. No pressure of course. Just figured I’d start one since I’m a student with not much of an income at the moment. Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed :)

#acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fic #night court #azriel x reader #azriel smut #smut #velaris #reading #fanfiction

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bxlladxnnabxtch · 7 months ago

Text

Wiped Off the Map

Rhysand x Reader

❀🇲🇦🇸🇹🇪🇷🇱🇮🇸🇹❀

Summary: You walk in on Rhysand and Morrigan talking about bringing a certain Cursebreaker back to the Night Court. When the destruction of your home started off in a similar situation - how far will you go to convince Rhysand it's a bad idea?

Read pt. 2 to Wiped Off the Map - HERE

Warnings: Profanity, angst.

“She’s not coming back to our court.” You said, your tone biting through any excuse Rhysand threw your way. “Her presence on Night Court soil will start a war.” You tapped your finger on the table to emphasize your point, your eyes narrowing as you saw Rhys’ harden in determination.

“She needs help.” He reasoned, your lips pursed, a pulse of frustration running through you. “She can get it somewhere else, she’s Cursebreaker, she has everyone falling at her feet.” You spat, feeling a spark of anger begin to roil through you. You took a deep, shuddering breath that had Cassian sending you a pointed look.

You had just come back from training, your chest heaving as you greedily sucked down mouthfuls of air, eager to soothe the burning in your lungs. You could still feel the sweat slide down your back, grimacing at the feeling as you brushed away a sweat soaked strand of hair from your vision.

Your eyes locked on Rhys and Morrigan talking about the girl in question, and a pang of fear had struck you so deep you felt your magic force the mountain to shudder beneath you. The event sending the pairs eyes shooting in your direction. They both knew your past, the destruction the same action they were debating right now had reaped on your family’s camp. But their concern for the girl seemed to trump their consideration for your past and by proxy, their entire fucking court.

“A war is going to happen either way.” Morrigan offered, her maroon dress shifting as she turned in her chair to regard you. Your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth coming to hang open as you looked at her incredulously. “So you decide to burn bridges now- are you two fucking with me right now? Do you even realize what this will do to our relations with the Spring Court? Not to mention- the entirety of fucking Prythian.” You waved your hands across the room, as if you could encompass the entirety of the continent in a single sweep. A bitter laugh escaped you, your body in complete disbelief that they were even considering this for a moment.

“She has abilities from every court, that may be worth sacrificing relations with Spring- they’re already strained enough as it is. She is more of an asset than anything.” Rhysand said, sending a look at Cassian. You had no doubt the two were talking amongst themselves, and it only sent more anger coursing through you.

Another tremble shook the mountain which had Rhys looking at you in warning. Morrigan looked between you two, her lips pursed. “You mean powers she doesn’t even know she has? Where are you going to put this girl? Are you going to keep leaving us here to clean up your messes while you go play house at Hewn City?” Morrigan bristled at the mention of the Court of Nightmares, her figure going tense. You noted Cassian steping closer to you two, ready to save the mountain from being destroyed should you start a brawl. You felt a slam against your mental shields so hard you physically recoiled, staggering a step. “Stay the fuck out of my head.” You growled, Morrigan looked at her cousin in shock, surprised at the fact he’d actually try to get past your mental shields. Your anger simmered into a rage, your expression twisting. “You better not think you’re bringing her anywhere near Velaris. You keep dropping everything for this girl as if she’s part of your duties or some shit. It’s a bargain Rhys- one that’s optional on your part. I’m beginning to think you prefer playing dad then spending time with your family- that in case you have forgotten- you’ve left here for half a century.”

Cassian sucked in a breath. Morrigan looked like you had just slapped her. Rhys’ eyebrows rose, but he stared at you silently. Your breaths and the soft ticking of the clock were the only sounds heard as you stared at him, your eyes conveying just how abandoned you’d felt since Under the Mountain.

Nobody dared to speak, nobody moved as you looked between them. You seemed to sag as you realized he wasn’t going to cave. You bit your lip, your head falling as you shook your head. You looked back up, seeing Cassian eyeing you in sympathy, and you felt your eyes begin to sting as your jaw clenched.

“Y’know what Rhysand? You may act like you know what you’re doing, but ever since we came back from Under the Mountain, your priorities have been severely out of line.” Your heart chipped a little bit as your memories flashed back to that dark, agonizing place. Your wings folded tightly to you, the action purely muscle memory from having to keep them tucked in to fit through the passageways.

A scowl grew on your face, and you sent Cassian and Morrigan a glance before turning toward the stairs. “Let me know when you get them back in order.” You said coldly. You didn’t look back at the trio as you came to the landing and took them two at a time. You thought about how Cassian hadn’t spoken the whole exchange, and another flood of anger rushed through you at his inability to back you up. You passed Azriel on the way up and ignored the way his shadows seemed to reach out to you, as if in comfort. You didn’t allow yourself to look up at him either, you knew his face would be blank and you didn’t think you could take more indifference.

You wanted nothing to do with anyone until they realized what this meant for Prythian. One stupid girl, and they were ready to go to war for her at the drop of a hat. Your scowl only grew as you made your way up to the roof, and didn’t think twice before you sent yourself soaring off it.

You knew this was partially immature, you knew they would send themselves into a frenzy when they found your room empty the next morning, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you thought about how this one decision would bring the Night Court to its knees.

You would disappear. Until Rhys saw reason, and until the rest of them stopped following him so blindly. Just like Under the Mountain, you weren’t going to allow Rhys to make decisions for you. And just like after that tiny village on the border of the Winter Court was wiped from the map, you were alone.

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azrielslightintheshadows · 2 months ago

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Hi!!! Could you possibly do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader isn’t really into pda but the second her and Rhys are behind closed doors she becomes physically affectionate with him? She will show affection publicly every now and then but likes to keep it private for the most part.

Touch starved

Rhysand x f!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings; none, maybe a bit suggestive?

Hello I hope you enjoy the way i wrote your request

Rhysand always enjoyed showing off, it didn’t matter where he was, he didn’t care about the occasion meaning that he would steal the spotlight even at someone’s wedding. So, when he found his mate, he wanted to show her off to the entire world. He also wanted to show everyone that she belonged to him. Imagine the shock when he realized that you don’t like to show your affection in public. He was devastated at first but after the first time you spent time in public for more than a few hours he realized how good it felt when you were alone, how more affectionate you became because you were touch starved. Like today… Nesta decided to celebrate her birthday at a tavern which was kind of odd, but everyone agreed since you wanted to make the day about her and only her. You were sitting next to Rhysand as you talked with Cassian and Mor. Your knee touching your mate’s under the table being the only action of love for the time being. Rhysand felt irritated and he could feel your desperation to touch him through the bond but being the stubborn female you were he knew that you wouldn’t budge. It had been more than 15 hours since the last time you two were alone and your body was literally shaking with need, your shy nature though dreaded the idea of touching your dashing mate.

“Y/n are you listening?” Cassian asked with a worried look.

Your eyes focused back on him, and you shook your head trying to put your thoughts in order. “Yeah… no… sorry I’m just tired” you sighed.

“Honey, you don’t look good maybe you should head home” Mor suggested softly and caressed your upper arm.

Rhys immediately turned to you with furrowed eyebrows “Are you okay love?”

“I think we should go home” you replied and glanced at Nesta who was having the time of her life with her sisters. “I think she will be okay”.

Rhys smiled and being the amazing mate that he is he stood up and grabbed your hand leading you outside while also saying quick goodbyes to his friends.

The moment you stepped into your shared house you sighed in delight and ran to your room to get changed.

“So are you really tired or you couldn��t resist me anymore?” Rhys smirked when he walked into the room making you wonder if he somehow planted the need in your head.

You changed into your nightgown and glanced at him. “Just tired” you shrugged and slipped in your bed.

Rhys stopped undressing and looked at you with a cocked eyebrow making you giggle.

“You’re such a bad liar” he gave you his feline smile and crawled on the bed.

“Come here” you opened your arms and legs for him to lie on top of you. When he made himself comfortable between your legs with his head resting on your chest you smiled and started caressing his hair with one hand and his bare back with the other.

He hummed and relaxed on top of you carefully though so he wouldn’t crush you.

After a while you lowered yourself and planted kisses on top of his head making him moan and tighten his arms around your middle. His scent clouded your senses, the scent of smoke and whiskey with just a small hint of something sweet made you inhale sharply while your hand trembled on top of his velvety skin.

“Feels so nice” he murmured, and you smiled.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came and you woke up alone stretching over his side of the bed trying to find some of his familiar warmth. After a few minutes you huffed because it wasn’t enough and left the room in search for your mate. You tiptoed into his office where he was seated on his big chair, legs spread wide as he read a book.

“There you are” you said softly and approached him. He gave you a sweet smile and you took a seat on his lap.

“Hi” you murmured and rubbed your cheek on the base of his neck touching your cold nose on his warm and soft skin earning a chuckle from him.

“Missed me?” He asked and started caressing your hair with one hand while the other held the book.

“You know I can’t stay away from you” you smiled and wrapped your hands around his torso. “Wish I could stay here all day”

You felt his chest moving sharply as he let out a small laugh “then that’s what we’ll do” he replied and got comfortable.

That’s how you spent your day, on his lap prepping small kisses on his neck and chest while he read his book with a sweet smile on his face

@littlest-w01f , @zara-aliza08

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elaacreditava · 7 months ago

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Have I found you, flightless bird?

Azriel Shadowsinger x reader

Summary: Rhysand brings back home a mysterious girl with a distaste for Illyrians. Azriel feels attracted to her and compelled to change her view on things.

Warning: angst, blood, gore, pinning and fluff

Word count: 4.661k

Note: This is my first writing ever. Never thought about writing fics, only reading them (obsessed) but I couldn't take this fic out of my mind so I decided to write and share it.

After Amarantha's death, Rhysand winnowed back to Velaris with an unknown female. As soon as he saw his family, Rhys fell to his knees and was hugged by Mor while cried and said repeatedly "she's my mate". His cousin, Amren, Cassian and Azriel stared incredulously at the mysterious woman in the corner of the room.

"Who are you?", the Illyrian commander asked after the shock of the situation has passed.

"I'm Y/n and no, he's not talking about me, I'm not his mate", Y/n answered feeling the need to get rid of any misunderstanding. No one asked any more questions while all of them sat down after Rhysand had calmed himself enough to start explaining everything that had happened since the beginning.

When Rhys was done hours later, Azriel noticed how little he knew about Y/n, as if Rhys was leaving her out of it as much as possible intentionally, only saying that she was Amarantha's slave just like him.

Seeing Y/n rounded ears, no scales, horns, wings, slitted eyes or anything that made her high fae or lesser, Azriel deemed she was human, the most beautiful female he has seen in his life with her smooth long hair, slender body and sharp face, no older than 25. But what got Azriel most about her were her eyes, more than the exquisite color they had, the look she gave at them, the kind of look of someone that had been through a lot and would never let it happen again was always present. He needed to know more about her, so he decided to pry for answers.

"Why did you bring the human back with you? Why not send her back to the mortal lands?" Az asked Rhysand but as soon as he finished his sentence, Y/n eyes turned in his direction and the shadowsinger knew he had made a mistake. "The 'human' is no human at all and she hates when someone talks about her as if she's not present." Y/n said in a disgusted tone and with such fury that Azriel felt like he's been electrocuted, but being the spymaster he is, he didn't let show how much the storm in her eyes affected him.

"Y/n isn't human, she's... something else, but that's not my story to tell. She will tell whenever she feels ready to share." replied Rhys trying to keep the conversation under control. Azriel and Y/n kept staring at each other for a while and he had a feeling she didn't like him very much. When the silence was uncomfortable enough for everybody else in the room, Azriel was the first to speak "Apologies, I didn't mean to, I see you and know you can speak for yourself." That caught Y/n off guard. Was it possible for an Illyrian to be different from all the ones she has meet before? Apologizing and looking at her as if had worth stirred something in her chest, something she hadn't felt before, like a tug in her heart. But she decided to not let it show and only nodded in return.

After introducing Y/n to his family, Rhysand decided the conversation would be over for now. "Y/n and I must rest" Rhys said to everyone and turning to her he finished with "Nuala and Cerridwen will help you getting settled." With that, the High Lord left and everybody else went to their own affairs while the half-wraiths took Y/n to the room she would be staying.

A warm bath was waiting for her and since she was feeling the need of washing away everything that happened she went in. Scrubbing the skin raw has become a tradition, the necessity of getting rid of Amarantha's touch and smell she could feel on herself after she was used, like Rhys was. Even now, with Amarantha dead, Y/n could smell her as if it was impregnated on her skin, as if she would never be free of it. So she scrubbed and cried and scrubbed some more like she did for years and years.

Having left the bath and changed into a short sleeved knee length dress, Y/n felt as clean as she could get. She was thinking about taking a walk around to explore the house when someone knocked on the door. Y/n went and opened it coming face to face with Azriel. Looking at him from this close, she could see the green in his hazel eyes, the light freckles on his cheeks, how his sharp jaw could cut anything. He was breathtaking. And breathless she was... until she realized they were staring at each other, so she cleaned her throat and said "Can I help you with anything?"

Azriel noticed her puffy eyes from crying during her scrub session and the raw skin of her arms and neck, so red that looked very sensitive to touch. The dark blue dress she was wearing complimented her curves and skin tone. He could only think about how was it possible to someone to look so mesmerizing even with puffy eyes, raw skin and a simple dress.

After a moment he averted his eyes "I feel like we started with the wrong foot. I'm Azriel, spymaster of the Night Court." he extended his hand, palm up, his shadows went to his fingertips, eager for her to make contact so they would jump to her warm fingers. Y/n put her hand on his and he kissed it and gave her a little bow while he saw his shadows circling her wrist and caressing her forearm "They seen to like you" his lips twitched trying to hold a smile before he continued "I was wondering if you need anything. Perhaps a tour around the place?" he said looking at her eyes now with a little smile, still holding her hand, and Y/n was wondering how soft his lips would feel against hers.

No! She couldn't get involved with him! After everything she's been through, she didn't need an Illyrian brute controlling her choices, taking away her freedom like she knew was part of their culture. As soon as she thought about it, she snatched her hand back and said "No thanks, I don't need to go anywhere with your kind" dismissing him. She was ready to close the bedroom door but he stopped her, holding the door ajar. She could see hurt and fury in his eyes, his shadows back around him were bristled when he asked "What do you mean with 'my kind'?" at that moment she thought he probably didn't always need to torture to get the answers he wanted, the look he was giving her and the tone he voiced his question was almost enough to make her apologize and cower in a corner. But she didn't suffer all she did all those years to run and hide when confronted any male.

"I don't need an Illyrian male telling me what to do and where to go, soon enough you'll start telling me what to wear and how to behave" she replied coldly.

"What?! I was just trying to be nice since you just got here and don't know your surroundings. Never wanted to control you in any way, just thought you would feel more at ease knowing how to come and go." He took a step closer, she could smell night-chilled mist and cedar coming from him "Don't compare me to other Illyrians you have met before. You don't know me", his low voice giving her goosebumps and making her heart race.

Azriel felt an anguish in the current situation he hasn't felt before. Being compared to everything he had fought against his whole life.

"Whenever you feel like leaving your prejudice behind, I'll be around." with that he left leaving Y/n stunned by the door. She was so shocked by his words that she didn't remember closing the bedroom door, walking to her bed and laying down. She felt a mix of rage and shame, how he talked to her, after she patronized him, how her prejudice made her think they're all the same when all he showed her was kindness. She took a deep breath and got up ready to find him and apologize but as soon as she got to the door and opened, Rhys was there. "Hey! I just saw Az leaving, looking mad, what happened?" he asked, so Y/n told him everything about their encounter.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover, Y/n. The brooding face, shadows and bat wings might give you the wrong impression but once you get to know him, you'll see that he's nothing like you ever knew. Let the past in the past and try to be open minded" the High lord said, making her feel even worse about the situation. So she got up fast and said "I need to go, Rhys. Do you know where I can find him? I really need to apologize."

"He's probably at the library, it's where we usually find him when he's pissed. It's on the lower floor, fourth door to your right." he instructed her knowing she had no idea where was anything in the house. "Thanks Rhys, wish me luck!" she said passing Rhysand and giving him a peck on his cheek.

"No problem! And you won't need luck, Az is a nice male and you are you. He will understand and both of you will be fine." he said with a smirk looking at her as if he knew something Y/n didn't. She went to the lower floor and the fourth door to her right was a large one, very library like so she got in and started looking for him. The place was so big, with endless shelves full of books. She will definitively spend some time here in the future. For now she had to find him, but had no idea where to start.

Something on the ground was trying to get her atention and when she stepped closer she noticed it was one of his shadows. When she bent down to touch it the shadow moved to an aisle luring her to follow it and so she did. After some twists and turns she found him sitting on a sofa with a pile of books and reports laying on the table by his side. He looked very comfortable, with his legs spread, one hand holding a report while the other arm was resting on the back of the sofa holding his head in place. His wings were behind the sofa resting, just as spread as his legs. And damn, if the rumors about wingspan were true, the male in from of her was very blessed. Fuck, she comes to apologize and can't stop thinking about those things, not nice!

As soon as she came into view, he stiffened and fixed his posture, looking tense and ready to fight. "I've come in peace!" She stated quickly while holding her hands up in a surrender position for him to see. "I was so unfair comparing you to others, I am very sorry about it. I've had some bad experiences in life but that doesn't excuse how I treated you." Az looked her over, her guilty ridden face told him she was being sincere.

"It's okay, I forgive you" he replied and she instantly looked so relieved and for a couple of seconds he just kept gazing at her, something in her was so entrancing, he couldn't take his eyes off of her until -"wait, how did you find me here? This library is like a maze" he said imagining the trouble she went through until finally finding him.

"Uh, as soon as I entered the library one of your shadows found me and guided me to you" she said and his jaw dropped. His shadows always helped him to hide, not to be found. It didn't matter who was looking for him, they never gave his whereabouts to anyone. "You little traitors" he scolded them playfully. Even feeling a bit betrayed by them he felt glad that they did it and the air between Azriel and Y/n could be cleared.

"So, I feel like we started with the wrong foot. I'm Y/n. Would you mind giving me a tour around the place?" she used almost the same words he did hours before by her door so he barked a laugh, got up, took the hand she extended, kissed it, put it around his byceps and told her "It would be my pleasure."

He didn't fail to notice how his shadows would naturally run from him to hers, excited to touch her warm skin and back to him bringing her smell with them.

Months have passed and the dynamic between them both was as if they have known each other for centuries. They would talk for hours about a book they read, go to a cafe to have their favorite pastries, walk down the Rainbow while chatting about the future, training hand to hand combat, since Y/n begged to learn anything because she felt the need since she was never able to fight back in her slave days or before that.

Everything was great between them, except for the fact that Y/n still didn't disclose anything to him about her past. He didn't know what she was, where she came from, how old was she, and that made Azriel confused. She was comfortable enough to have him around, to do almost everything together, even sleep on his shoulder once when they were reading together side by side on the couch and she fell asleep, laying her head on his shoulder, then moving to his chest, and when waking up, not being embarrassed about it, as if it wasn't the first time this was happening and as id it wasn't almost gave him a heart attack.

Her head near his face, he could smell her hair, feel the softness of it on his cheek, he wanted to run his hands through it, feel it between his fingers. Then she moved a little bit to get more comfortable and her nose was almost touching his chest. He could feel her breath on his skin since the V neck he was wearing showed some skin. It tickled him and gave goosebumps.

He couldn't concentrate on his book any longer. All he could think about was how would it feel to have her hair between his fingers while she kissed his chest, his abs, his- never mind! He took a deep breath and tried very hard to take his mind off of it. They would be very flirty with each other all the time but it was just a joke, she would never be interested in him more than friends. She was so kind, brave, smart and pretty. And he was just him.

Today was training day and they were stretching at the center of the ring before starting with hand to hand combat. Y/n was wearing leggings and a long sleeved shirt. Azriel noticed Y/n never wore sleeveless clothing, she would show her arms sometimes but never her back. He tried to dismiss this information but it kept nagging at him.

Azriel was wearing his combat leathers, and Y/n couldn't stop staring at his muscles, how good he was looking. He kept giving her a welcoming smile, an encouraging one since they were about to start fighting and he would handle her ass to her. She has been training for months now but he has been training for centuries, it didn't matter what a great professor he was, she would never win a fight between them, even so with her getting distracted when their skin touch, when he imobilizes her and she can feel his breath on her neck, when he's so close that everything she can do is do her best to keep herself under control and not kiss him then and there.

It was impossible not to fall for him. He was amazing, she could spend the whole day with him and would never tire of his company. Everyone saw him as a serious fae, never smiling and always in the shadows, but with Y/n he was funny, attentive, respectful and smart. Gods, she wanted him so much. But he would never want her, a broken girl, her years as a slave only left a shadow of the person she was. He would answer her flirtation with the same tone but of course it was just a joke to him, he could have anyone, why would he choose her?

"Okay, today we'll test the grappling you've been learning lately. We have tested your kicking lessons and punching ones in the last classes. Today, no kicking, no punching, only imobillizing, got it?" He asked and even knowing what was coming, she got nervous. He was very built, tall and large so she would have trouble dealing with it.

He taught her how to take down bigger opponents but one thing was just theory and training other was to use it to really win the fight. Y/n just took a deep breath and nodded in confirmation.

They started to circle each other, looking for a weak spot to take advantage of. She tried to trip him tackling his legs but he just pushed her back and gave a little laugh. She knew he was playing her, that he could have finished it already but he wanted to see what she had learned. So back at circling she remembered a takedown she read about, trained the movement in front of the mirror many times but never really did it on someone. If she was able to execute it, Azriel wouldn't be expecting it since it was one he never taught her.

Y/n keep a natural stance while moving closer to him. She then gripped his left wrist with her right hand and hooked his left armpit with her left arm. Taking a big step forward, she rotated her body and dropped to her knees between his legs, with her back to him, using the momentum to change Azriel's center of gravity and pull him over her shoulder and onto his back on the mat. He looked so surprised that Y/n kept staring at his face with the biggest smile he has ever seen. He took a second to save that scene in his memory and in the next he dropped her and mounted her waist.

"That was one hell of a takedown, but instead of gloating you should've held me down so I wouldn't get up and take you down" he said looking down and smiling at her.

Y/n was breathless. She didn't know if it was because of the takedown, or of when he caught her off guard after it or because he was sitting on top of her with that smile that melted her every time.

"Hey, are you okay?" He whispered thinking she could be hurt and moved his hand to move her hair away from her face. Lost in his actions, he didn't notice the mischief in her eyes. She hugged his forearm and bumped her hips to the side, making him loose balance and falling on his back again. This time she learned her lesson, before he could close his legs around her hips or get up, Y/n moved fast and mounted him as he did to her minutes ago but now, she held his wrists above his head.

They both were breathing heavy, their noses inches apart, looking at each other's eyes. His eyes moved from hers to her lips and back to her eyes.

"I yield" he breathed against her lips. She threw all control away and kissed him deep and hard. Moving one hand to his hair and the other to the back of his neck she tried to show him through that kiss how much he meant to her, how glad she was to have met him and how she wanted a future with him.

With his arms now free from her grip, Azriel buried with fingers in her hair and his other hand moved to the small of her back. He waited so long for this to happen and to have her kissing him back, gods! He hoped she could feel how in love he was with her, how he never wanted to part from her, have her in his arms all the time would be everything.

Y/n lifted her head a little bit, just enough to look at his face, that's when she felt it. That tug in her heart so strong that made her gasp. The bond snapping into place. She widened her eyes in disbelief. Azriel was her mate.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The shadowsinger asked, noticing the change in her demeanor. He moved his hand from the small of her back to between her shoulder blades and saw when she instantly winced in pain and pushed his arm away, getting up and turning her back to him, ready to leave.

Before she could go, Azriel grabbed her arm, keeping her in place. When she looked at him, her eyes were shining silver with tears. He knew he didn't hurt her back, had mastered enough his fighting skills to be sure of it. The pain must be from a wound badly healed from her time Under the Mountain.

"Please, talk to me" her mate pleaded, "please, I want to help, I want you!" With that, she looked at his hazel eyes and saw all the love he had for her. It was time to trust him with her secrets since her mate always showed himself to be loyal and reliable.

Y/n moved her arm from his grip but didn't walk away, only turned her back to him. When he thought she would ignore him, she started taking her shirt off. Under that she had a spaghetti strapped top and where he touched her back before were scars. The red and twisted tissues were in the same placement of his wings.

"I'm Illyrian, Az. Amarantha severed my wings with her sword after I tried to run away from Under the Mountain years ago" she told, looking at him over her shoulder with tears running down her face. "My father was Rhys' father Illyrian commander. The night Tamlin's family was killed by Rhys dad at Spring Court, my father was there helping them. So Amarantha slaved Rhys and I for our parents part in her ally's death."

Azriel was at loss for words. Y/n had wings once. And they were cut off of her with a sword. The pain she must have felt. It's a wonder she's still alive. He had so many questions but afraid of overstepping he started slow with "that's how you know about Illyrian culture, why you thought I was like them all."

"Yes, I grew up witnessing how females were treated by males in our village. Always being submissive, ready to serve, never fighting back" she told him with rage in her voice. "When I was old enough, my father clipped my wings. Told me it would be easier to marry me to someone this way, as it was a display of submissiveness. He died the same night as Rhys' father, by Tamlin's hands. And when Amarantha came for me, I couldn't fly away and didn't know how to fight to defend myself. So she took me." Her father made her a flightless bird, always caged, never able to feel the wind on her wings ever again.

By now, Y/n was on her knees with her forehead on his chest, the conversation having taken all her strength, while the spymaster kneeled before her, holding her as if he could prevent her from breaking, from falling to pieces.

"After years of serving in Amarantha's bed whenever she felt like it, I tried to run away. It was the best chance I've had in years, I would have made it if I could fly after leaving her court, but with clipped wings I had to walk, that's when the Attor got me" Y/n was sobbing so hard that Azriel was shushing her, caressing her hair and promising he would never anyone hurt her again. She believed him, knew he would burn the world down to keep her safe.

After taking deep breaths to calm herself, she continued, "Amarantha said that clipped wings weren't enough to make me submissive, she would need to try harder. So she grabbed her sword and severed them. I'll never forget the pain I felt that day, the sound of my screams, the blood spilling from my back. After that, she called for Rhysand, told him that his mission was to not let me die of blood loss and left.

"Rhys found a healer and they did the best they could in the conditions presented to them. I survived, but a wound this bad needed better conditions to heal properly, that's why is more sensitive than a normal scar. Madja's already working on it, prescribed some balms and potions to lessen the pain and make it less sensitive but she said it will take a while to be completely painless."

"Y/n, I'm so sorry this happened to you, all of this! What your father did, the price you paid for his actions, all you suffered before and during Amarantha's reign. I wish you never went through situations were you had to show your strength but going through it all, you were so strong, so brave!" Azriel said with choked voice while holding Y/n face in his hands, touching her forehead with his, drying her tears with his thumbs, caressing her cheek in reassurance. The shadowsinger himself was on the verge of tears, keeping a hold on his emotions while trying to comfort Y/n. "I would do anything to save you from all this suffering, anything" Azriel whispered to her.

Y/n felt so light, having someone to share the burden, someone she trusted, was like having a boulder removed from her chest. And to hear all reassurances he was giving her made her feel so safe and seen. She gripped his face in her hands and kissed him lightly but with so much love that he felt the bond snapping into place right away.

Azriel gasped, opened his eyes and Y/n was staring at him with a smile on her face, eyes rimmed with tears. She gave a tug on the bond and he gasped again, she laughed and said "Can you feel it?"

Her mate just nodded gaping at her. She laughed harder then said "thank the cauldron! I thought I'd have to endure ages until it snapped to you too!"

"You're my mate" he whispered, she nodded. "I've found you... I can't believe it" he was stunned. "When did it- oh, minutes ago when you were looking at me after our kiss!" He realized, dumb struck.

"For a spymaster sometimes you're very clueless, you know?" She said giggling. "I've been giving you clues about how I feel about you, flirting and spending as much time as I could with you. Mates or not, I've been in love with you for a while now."

Azriel was dreaming, he was sure of it. No way this was real, it was too good to be truth. Y/n was his mate and was in love with him. He never thought he was deserving of a mate, much less deserving of her and here they were, mates and in love. The Mother blessed him with the greatest gift.

"Looks like you bested me this" he said smiling, then cupped her jaw to to lift her face and capture her eyes and said "I will protect you with my life. I'd die and kill for you."

Y/n knew he was speaking the truth because she could feel through the bond and also that's how she felt about him. Knowing all he has been through since a child, she would die and kill to keep him safe.

Her lover, her mate, her Azriel.

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #velaris #night court #a court of thorns and roses #azriel spymaster #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #azriel imagine #azriel x y/n

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myveryownfanfiction · 2 years ago

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 5

warnings: a bar, drinking, swearing, someone tries to hit on reader, jealous Dan

As the song finished, Dan led me back to the table. Abbie smiled at us.

“I see you two are having fun.” Abbie elbowed Dan and he rolled his eyes. “For someone who didn’t want to come tonight anyway.” Laughing, I looked over the table.

“Anyone want another drink?” I asked. Abbie and Dan nodded. “Your tab abs or gurgs?”

“Gurgs has a tab open.” She said. I nodded and got up. Weaving through the dance floor, I slipped into an open space at the bar.

“Hi. Three club sodas please.” I requested once a bartender came over. “The tab is for gurgs.” He nodded and added the drinks to the tab.

“It’ll be a minute or two. We need to refill the machine.” I nodded and leaned against the bar. I watched Olivia dance with gurgs and Neil before waving over at dan and Abbie. Then I felt someone squeeze into the space next to me. I moved over and turned my attention back to the bar.

“Hiya good looking.” I ignored the man next to me and waited for the bartender. “I said hello.” I nodded before trying to move over a little more. The man next to me put his hand on my back. Trying to shrug it off, I turned towards him.

“I have a boyfriend who I am here with tonight. I’m not interested.” I glared at him before pointedly turning away. The man grabbed my arm and I jammed it back. “Excuse me!”

“You don’t have to lie to me sweet thing.” The man put his arm around me and held tightly to my shoulder. Despite trying to free myself, I couldn’t. “I’ve seen you cozying up to your grandfather. Whatcha celebrating?” I elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“He’s not my grandfather. He’s my boyfriend!” I cried. The man laughed.

“Sweetheart cut the act.” I opened my mouth to retort when the man turned. I was forced to turn with him. Dan stood in front of us, a scowl on his face. “Dan.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I suggest you remove your arm from my partner.” Dans voice had taken on an edge and I watched wide eyed as he stared the man down. “Now.” The man removed his arm only to try to put a hand on dans arm. I slipped out from next to him and hid behind Dan. I gripped onto his jacket.

“Look pops I can appreciate you looking out for them. But you gotta let them live a little.” The man put his hand on dans shoulder and a shadow passed over dans face.

“Remove your hand.” He growled. “Before things get worse for you.” The bartender returned with our drinks and took one look at the scene before him. I tightened my grip on Dans jacket.

“Benny, how many times have I told you. Get lost.” The bartender scolded. The man looked over his shoulder at the bartender. “I mean it man. That’s Dan fielding. He’s here with a judge. You don’t want to mess with them.” Benny looked back at Dan before holding his hands up.

“fine. Fine.” Benny walked off and I stepped out from behind Dan to grab our drinks.

“thanks.” I muttered before turning back towards Dan. “Wanna go?” He nodded, a strange look had taken over his face. “Let me take these back to Abbie.” Dan trailed after me as I took the drinks back to the table. “Hey Abbie…” I started. She held up her hand.

“I saw. I’ll tell the others what happened.” I nodded and looked back at Dan.

“excuse me.” He seemed to have snapped out of his stupor. “I’m gonna go take care of my desperately not wanting to be here.”

“See you tomorrow.” Abbie called as I offered Dan my hand and led him out of the bar. Getting into the car, I sat for a moment before turning to Dan.

“You alright?” He nodded. “You sure? It seemed like you were ready to fight that guy.” Dan gave me a tight lipped smile.

“It’s this feeling in my stomach. I don’t quite understand.” He ran a hand down his chest. “I think I know what it is, but…” reaching over, I took his hand.

“It’s been a while hasn’t it?” I asked, sympathy lacing my tone. “Were you ever jealous of how people acted around Sarah?” He shook his head.

“Most people looked the other way when they saw me next to her. Then again, people knew who I was. If anything, she was the one jealous of the people around me. Given my reputation.” Dan lifted my hand and kissed it.

“That reputation that some people still held on to.” I teased. Dan looked at me amused. “Oh come on Dan. A woman yelled at you the other day that she wanted to climb you like a tree.” Dan chuckled. “I mean I don’t blame her but come on.” Kissing my hand again, Dan smiled at me.

“But now, with you, I find I am. Even though I have no reason to be.” He shrugged. “But the way he talked to you and what he said…(Y/N), I know you don’t need me to but you know I’ll always be there to protect you right?” I nodded and kissed his hand. Dans cheeks turned pink and I basked in the moment.

“I know. And I appreciate it.” Dan smiled. “Come on. Let’s go back to my place.”

#dan fielding #dan fielding imagine #dan fielding x reader #dan fielding fanfic #dan fielding fanfiction #john larroquette #john larroquette imagine #john larroquette fanfic #john larroquette fanfiction #john larroquette x reader #night court #night court fanfiction #night court fanfic #night court imagine #Old enough #Old enough series

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surielstea · 17 days ago

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Dancing With Fate pt.11

Read part one here.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Reader and Nyx meet again, this time exploring Velaris—and much more about their fates are revealed.

Warnings: Minor conflict, protective parents, forbidden love, and some kissing 👀

A.Note: I haven’t posted since last yearrr I am so sorry to all of you, but part two is finally here!! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s a little bit more fast paced but I wanted to speed it along so I could get to the actual good stuff. Make sure you read part one prior to this!

Word count: 7.1k

I was in my bedroom, rereading a book for the sixth time. It was the least favorite on my shelf, worn only from idle desperation rather than love. Father didn't often take me out to buy new books; when he did, it was always after much coaxing. I could go without him, but only with a sentry trailing me. And I hated inconveniencing them with what he called my "silly hobby." So, I waited until my father needed something from the town, and then I'd quietly slip a purchase into our errands.

It had been a week—exactly seven days—since the ball at the Dawn Court. Since I'd talked with a stranger until sunrise. It was strange, missing someone whose name I didn't even know. But I did. I missed the way he teased me, the way I could be me with him—unguarded and, for once, unjudged. My chest ached at the memory, yet I forced my attention back to the book in my lap, pretending not to notice how hollow the words felt tonight.

"I could take you to the bookstore, you know."

I jolted upright at the sudden intrusion in my mind, my breath catching at the unfamiliar—yet eerily familiar—cool tone.

"Who's there?" My whispered words sounded absurd even to me, as I scanned my empty room for a presence that couldn't possibly be real. My pulse thundered, but no one appeared.

"In your head, princess," the voice replied smoothly, amusement curling through every syllable.

My breath hitched. That voice... his voice.

"How are you doing that?" I whispered, my grip tightening on the book.

"Daemati powers," he answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Daemati. My thoughts raced. Only a few could wield that kind of power, and even fewer had the skill to enter a mind from such a distance, wherever he was. The realization sent a shiver down my spine. "Get out of my head."

"Let me take you to the bookstore, and I will."

"I can't go out." The words came out sharp, though I wasn't sure whether I was speaking to him or to myself. "My father would—"

"Your father isn't home, is he?" he interrupted, his voice dipping into a dry hum. "Come now, are there wards locking you in?"

"No," I admitted, frowning, disliking that he already knew that fact.

"Chains on your doors or windows?"

"No, but—"

"Then you can leave."

"It's not that simple," I snapped, then clamped my mouth shut, wincing at my own volume.

A quiet pause. Then, softly, "What happened to the girl I met at the ball? The one who wasn't afraid to sneak away and stay out until dawn?"

"This is manipulation," I grumbled, though my chest fluttered at the memory of that night.

"Is it working?" he purred, smug.

"Yes," I muttered under my breath, hating the warmth that pooled in my stomach.

"Good. Meet me at the Spring and Summer border."

Before I could argue, the connection snapped, leaving me alone in the quiet, moonlit room. I stared at the book in my lap, then closed it with a sharp thud and tossed it onto the bed.

I shouldn't do this. I couldn't do this.

And yet, I was already moving—slipping into boots, shrugging on my satchel, and inching my window open with careful fingers. The night air kissed my skin as I hoisted myself onto the sill, every creak of the frame sending a thrill of nervous energy through me as my feet planted on the roof below me.

The climb down the flower-covered lattice was agonizingly slow, the wooden structure groaning beneath my weight as I scaled the two-story descent. By the time my feet touched the ground, my heart was racing. I pressed myself into the shadows, my movements silent as I made my way past the lingering, half-awake sentries and through the edge of the wards.

Once outside, I winnowed. The magic tugged at my ribs, spinning me through space until I landed at the Spring and Summer border.

It wasn't hard to spot him. He was already there, leaning casually against a sunstone pillar, his wings catching the moonlight like black silk. Shadows played along the sharp lines of his face, accentuating the curve of his mouth as he smiled—a sharp, knowing thing that made my steps falter.

"Evening, princess," he drawled, pushing off the pillar with an ease that made everything about him look so effortless.

"You know my title, but I still don't know your name," I replied, crossing my arms in a poor attempt to mask the way my heart stumbled at the sight of him.

His grin widened, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Let's keep it that way for now. Mystery suits us, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, his hand shot out, plucking something from my hair. He held it up between two fingers—a small, pale pink rose. "You've got a knack for dramatic entrances," he said, twirling the flower.

"Must've fallen when I climbed down the lattice," I muttered, taking the rose from his hand, though my fingers brushed his for a beat longer than necessary.

His brow arched in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me flowers don't just grow from your hair? And here I thought you were a goddess in disguise."

"Don't be ridiculous." I snorted, very un-goddess-like. "This, however, I can do." I cupped the rose in my palm, letting a sliver of my magic flow into it.

The transformation was instant. Vines sprouted from the stem, curling down my wrist in an intricate dance, tiny buds blooming along their length. The rose gleamed in the moonlight, glowing faintly with the life I'd breathed into it.

His smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. The silver light of the moon reflected in his gaze as he leaned closer, studying the vines with an intensity that made heat crawl up my neck. "Impressive," he murmured, his voice softer now. "What else can you do?"

I met his gaze, a grin tugging at my lips. "I'll tell you when you explain how you're able to read my thoughts."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Touché," he said, the smirk returning as he straightened. He extended a hand toward me, his wings shifting slightly as if preparing for flight. "Shall we?"

"Go where?" I asked, tilting my head.

"To the bookstore, of course."

"At midnight?" My disbelieving laugh echoed in the quiet night. "They're all closed."

"Not in the Night Court." His grin turned wolfish, his wings flaring just enough to cast long shadows. "Come on, I'll show you."

I froze, my stomach twisting at the mention of his court. My voice dropped to a whisper. "The Night Court? I'm not allowed to go there. My father forbade it."

"Well," he said with a pointed glance at my boots, "he also forbade sneaking out, and yet, here we are."

His smile was the very definition of trouble, but it faltered when he caught the hesitation in my eyes. The sharp edges of his expression softened. "We don't have to. If you want, I'll winnow you right back to Spring. No harm done."

My lips parted to refuse. To tell him I couldn't, I shouldn't. But the way he watched me, that glint of challenge in his gaze, made something reckless and wild spark to life in my chest. Against every ounce of better judgment, I stepped forward and slipped my hand into his.

"No," I said softly. "I want to."

His fingers tightened around mine, warmth spreading up my arm. "Just one question before we go," I said, my voice light but curious.

"Anything," he replied, his tone low and almost teasing.

"Are there monsters in the libraries there? Creatures made of nightmares?"

His chuckle was deep and smooth, like a shadow curling around the edges of my thoughts. "Bryaxis?" He grinned. "They're a friend."

I stared at him, horrified and awed all at once. "You made friends with a nightmare?"

He tugged me closer, a wicked gleam lighting his face. "Oh, princess," he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker, more thrilling. "You have no idea the company I keep."

Before I could say another word, the world dissolved into darkness.

—

The Night court wasn't the stories my father had told me as a child at all. Tales of monsters crawling from the shadows and winged creatures coming to steal me away. Rather, it was breathtaking, even at first glance. The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter and music drifting from nearby streets. Lanterns hung in the air like suspended stars, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths and vibrant market stalls.

I stumbled slightly as we landed, but Nyx's hand tightened around mine, steadying me. "Easy there, princess," he murmured, the warmth of his voice grounding me.

I glanced at our joined hands, but he made no move to let go, so I didn't pull away.

"This... this is the Night Court?" I whispered, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

"Velaris," he corrected softly, his gaze flicking over the streets like it was a lover's touch. "The City of Starlight."

I didn't know where to look first. Everything was alive, vibrant, yet somehow soothing, like the city itself was breathing. The Night Market stretched out before us, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Vendors called out to passing patrons, their stalls brimming with everything from exotic spices to delicate jewelry and hand-woven silk.

"You live here?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"Sometimes," he said vaguely, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.

We began to walk, and almost immediately, heads started to turn. A merchant at a nearby stall beamed when she saw him. "Haven't seen you in weeks, boy!" she called, waving a hand towards us.

He shot the vendor a look, though it wasn't unkind. "Evening, Mrs. Fowley," he said quickly, guiding me forward before I could ask more questions.

But then another vendor spotted him. And another. Each one greeted him like an old friend, their faces lighting up as if his presence alone had brightened their evening.

"Back again, lad?" one called.

"Nyx, come here," Their voice cut through the chatter of the market. His steps faltered, his head turning toward the sound.

"Nyx?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as he guided me toward the voice, his hand still warm and steady in mine.

His eyes flicked down to meet mine, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cat's out of the bag, I suppose."

"Bat's out of the bag," I quipped, gesturing to the wings folded neatly behind him.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you clever," he said dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

"Who's this pretty girl?" a female asked as we approached, the same one who had called him over. She held a tray of pastries, her expression kind and curious.

He—Nyx—looked at me then, really looked, with an intensity that made my cheeks warm. Before he could answer, a group of giggling girls stumbled down the path, one of them brushing past me and bumping me forward into his chest.

"My girlfriend," he said smoothly, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me closer.

I blinked up at him, startled by his words, but as I caught the wide-eyed, dismayed looks from the group of girls, understanding dawned.

"Ah, careful with this one, love. Just like his father with the ladies," the baker teased her tone light and amused as she gave me a playful wink. Nyx's arm tightened slightly around my waist at her words.

"Here, take a sweet. For whatever trouble he puts you through," she said, plucking a chocolate-covered croissant from her tray with a pair of tongs and holding it out to me.

I hesitated for a moment before accepting the pastry, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Miss," I said softly, my fingers brushing hers as I took the treat.

She waved me off with a warm smile. "Call me Ressina. I run this stand for his aunt's bakery, and I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you."

I nodded, smiling. "I hope so," I said sincerely, her kindness making the bustling market feel a little less overwhelming.

"Go on, then," she said, shooing us away. "Don't let me keep you."

Nyx didn't need to be told twice. His hand remained firm at my waist as he steered me back down the path, away from the stand.

I glanced up at him, raising a brow as I bit into the croissant. The pastry was perfect—flaky, buttery, and rich with chocolate that melted on my tongue. I made a quiet, appreciative sound before speaking. "You're popular, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, quickening his pace as though trying to escape the conversation. "They're just friendly here."

"Friendly?" I teased, a mischievous lilt in my voice. "You must be their favorite customer—or maybe something more. Should I be jealous?"

His wings twitched, and a faint blush crept up his neck. "Are you jealous, princess?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Hardly," I grumbled before taking another large bite of the delectable pastry.

"The baker is a family friend," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "She seemed to like you."

"Plenty seem to like you," I muttered under my breath, finishing the last bite of the pastry. "Boyfriend?"

He cringed slightly, his expression sheepish. "Sorry. Those girls have been following me for weeks. I didn't want you to have to deal with them."

I grinned, delighting in his discomfort. "You know, if you wanted to keep a low profile, you're not doing a very good job of it," I mumble, finishing off the croissant and debating licking my fingers since it was so delicious.

He shot me a sidelong glance, his smirk returning with a wicked edge. "Jealousy looks good on you, princess."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrayed me.

We turned a corner, the bustle of the market fading behind us as we approached a cozier part of the street. Nyx slowed his pace, guiding me toward a small building nestled between two larger shops. A golden sign hung above the door, marking it as a bookshop.

I paused, taking in the sight. The windows glowed softly, and through the glass, I could see shelves upon shelves of books, their spines glinting like hidden treasures. My heart swelled at the sight.

Nyx pulled the door open, motioning for me to step inside. "After you."

The scent of parchment and ink greeted me like an old friend, mingling with the faint aroma of spiced tea. The warmth of the shop wrapped around me, inviting and comforting, as though it had been waiting just for us.

I turned to him, my lips parting to thank him, but he spoke first. "Go on. Find something you like."

His voice was softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something gentler. I hesitated for only a moment before stepping further in, my fingers trailing over the spines of books as I wandered through the aisles.

Nyx followed at a distance, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze steady on me.

"You brought me all this way for a book," I said over my shoulder, smiling. "You're either very kind or very strange."

"Can't I be both?" he replied, his smirk resurfacing as he leaned casually against a nearby shelf.

I shook my head, letting myself get lost in the rows of stories, their endless possibilities calling to me.

I let my fingers dance along the spines of the books, tracing gilded titles and worn leather bindings. Each shelf seemed to hum with stories waiting to be told. A soft sigh escaped me, my heart swelling with quiet contentment.

Behind me, Nyx's footsteps were faint, his presence unobtrusive but unmistakable. I could feel his gaze, watchful and steady, as I explored.

"Find something?" he asked after a while, his voice softer now, almost reverent in the quiet of the shop.

"Not yet," I admitted, my fingers pausing on a particularly beautiful hardback, still pristine and painted gold along its edges. I tilted my head, reading the title.

A smile tugged at my lips. "This seems interesting."

Nyx stepped closer, his warmth brushing against my back as he peered over my shoulder. "Good choice," he murmured, his breath stirring the hair near my temple.

I turned slightly, catching his gaze. "Do you read?"

"Of course," he said, mock offense coloring his tone. "What, do I not seem the type?"

I bit back a grin, holding the book against my chest. "You seem like the type to skim for interesting bits and skip the rest."

His grin turned wicked. "What can I say? I’ve never been one for small talk,"

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the shelves, but his laughter followed me.

"Here," he said after a moment, reaching past me. His arm brushed mine as he plucked a slim, leather-bound book from the shelf. He held it out, his eyes gleaming.

I took it from him, studying the worn cover. Lost Letters Between Lovers. I shot him a look, heat creeping into my cheeks.

His smirk deepened. "Thought it might be useful for you. In case you needed inspiration."

"For what exactly?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Winning me over," he said smoothly, his wings giving a small flick.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've got it all wrong. I'm the one who needs convincing."

"Is that right?" he drawled, his voice low and amused.

I turned back to the shelves, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the flush that had spread down my neck.

After a few more moments of browsing, I found another book that caught my eye. I tucked it under my arm, satisfied.

"Done?" Nyx asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"For now," I said, turning to him. He tilted his head toward the counter, gesturing for me to follow.

The shopkeeper, an elderly male with spectacles perched on the end of his nose, greeted us warmly. "Nyx, my boy. Bringing someone special to the shop, I see."

I froze, suddenly hyperaware of Nyx standing beside me. His hand brushed against mine as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few coins.

"Just passing through, Mr. Tylan," he said smoothly, though there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

Mr. Tylan chuckled knowingly. "Well, it's about time you brought a girl around, the missus and I were beginning to grow doubtful you’d ever meet the one.” He breathes through his nose as he speaks, expert hands wrapping the books in brown paper. “She has excellent taste."

Nyx handed over the payment before I could even think to rummage through my bag, his voice a touch gruff as he replied, "She does."

I glanced at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. He didn't meet my gaze, instead picking up the small stack of books and tucking them under his arm.

"Come on," he said, inclining his head toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tylan,” I say with a soft smile as Nyx ushers me out the door.

“See you around, dear,” He gives me a simple wave.

It was odd, how anxious Nyx seemed in a place as welcoming as this. Everyone was friendly, and everyone knew him, perhaps he was afraid we’d run into the wrong set of people.

The cool night air greeted us as we stepped outside, the lively sounds of the market drifting faintly in the distance. Nyx fell into step beside me, the books still cradled in one arm.

"You didn't have to buy these for me," I said softly as he held them out to me, though he seemed more than willing to continue carrying them for me.

He shrugged, his wings shifting slightly as I took them and stuffed them into my bag. "I wanted to."

I studied him for a moment, the quiet confidence in his stride, the way the moonlight danced across his features. "You're not as insufferable as you pretend to be," I said, smiling.

His lips twitched. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the books pressing against my side with a comforting weight. Finally, I glanced at him, curiosity tugging at me.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he recovered. "You seemed like the type who'd like it. Thought it might make you smile."

I stared at him, warmth blooming in my chest. "You thought right."

His smirk softened into something gentler, something more real. "Good."

As we reached the edge of the market, I found myself wishing the night didn't have to end.

"Nyx," I called softly, stopping in my tracks.

He turned, dark brows lifting in question, the moonlight catching in his vibrant blue eyes.

"Thank you. For tonight," I said, the words carrying more weight than I expected.

His gaze held mine, something unspoken flickering between us. Then he smiled, and it felt as if the stars themselves had leaned in to listen.

"You think it's over already?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What else could you possibly have planned?"

He glanced skyward, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he slid his hand into mine, his grip warm and steady, and winnowed us away.

The world shifted. The cool night air nipped at my skin, sharper here, and I realized we were higher—much higher. Thin air filled my lungs as I took in our new surroundings.

"Where are we?" I asked, turning in place. Encircling us were jagged rock formations, a barren beauty carved by time.

"Look up," he said simply.

I frowned but obeyed, tipping my head back. My breath hitched as the heavens unfolded above me, brighter and closer than I'd ever seen them. The stars weren't merely distant pinpricks of light—they blazed like fireflies caught in an eternal dance, constellations shimmering with unmatched clarity.

"Beautiful," I whispered, unaware the word had even left me.

"Indeed," he murmured.

I turned to him, startled to find him already staring at me. His gaze held the same reverence I felt for the stars, and my heart skipped.

I managed a soft smile, then let my eyes drift back upward, unable to tear myself away from the galaxy stretched endlessly above.

"Come here," he said gently, tugging my hand.

Only then did I realize we were still connected, his touch grounding me even as my mind reeled at the beauty around us. He led me to a rocky outcropping, the path winding into a shallow cave. For a moment, the stars disappeared behind the jagged stone ceiling, and I frowned.

But then we emerged into an open chamber, a perfect circle carved into the roof. It was as though someone had reached into the earth and torn a hole, desperate to preserve this view of the night sky. The chamber's walls cradled us, offering shelter without stealing the stars.

Nyx guided me to a makeshift bench—a cluster of smooth, square stones—and sat. I followed, still entranced, my gaze drawn skyward as if bewitched.

"I used to come here when I was younger," he said after a moment of quiet. His voice was low, intimate in the stillness. "I'd forgotten about it until tonight. You reminded me it existed."

I tore my eyes from the sky to glance at him, curiosity tugging at me. "How could anyone forget a place like this?"

He smiled faintly. "It was my escape from, everything. My family. Expectations. I needed somewhere I could breathe."

I nodded, turning my attention back to the stars. "I get the feeling."

He bumped his shoulder against mine, drawing my gaze once more. "No one else knows about it. But I thought maybe you'd need a place like this, too."

Warmth bloomed in my chest, his words wrapping around me like a soft blanket. I glanced at him, and again, he was already staring at me.

I arched a brow. "You have a staring problem, you know."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Together, we gazed upward. He traced the constellations with his words, his voice soft and steady, while his thumb brushed gentle circles over the back of my hand. Each star above felt like it had been hung there just for us, as if the universe had paused to watch this quiet moment unfold.

For the first time in a long time, I felt peace.

"Nyx?" I asked softly after a few beats of silence.

He tensed ever so slightly at the sound of his name, a shiver rolling through him. I told myself it was because of the chill in the air.

"Hmm?"

"Who are you, really?"

His breathing slowed at my question, as if he were recalibrating, regaining control of a situation he hadn't anticipated losing.

"I have a feeling," I began, "that the power you used to peek into my head knows my lineage. It's only fair I know who you are, too."

He glanced at me, a cocky, almost childish smirk playing on his lips—a look that said, I'm not telling.

"Come on," I groaned, throwing my free hand out in frustration. His other hand still held mine, warm and steadfast. He hadn't let go, and I didn't want to, either.

"Don't you like a bit of mystery?" he teased.

"It's not a mystery when you already know who I am," I countered, arching a brow.

"Fair point, Princess."

Heat crept up my neck at the nickname, one he'd used since the beginning—since before he'd seen into my thoughts.

"You knew," I murmured, realization dawning. My voice wavered, the words trembling like brittle leaves in the wind. "You've known I'm a High Lord's daughter all along. That's why you're entertaining this, isn't it?"

I pulled my hand from his and stood abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest.

His brows furrowed as he looked up at me, confusion—and something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "What?"

"Don't play clueless now." My voice rose, a mixture of anger and humiliation bubbling to the surface. "You've known exactly who I am. That's why you're showing me the stars, why you're charming me. You're trying to secure a seat on my father's throne."

"You think I'm charming?" he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I spluttered, words dying on my tongue. "That's not the point—"

"Look," he cut in, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "Yes, I've known who you were from the start. I won't deny that. But, Princess, believe me when I say the last thing I want is your father's throne."

"Why should I believe you?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "You've done nothing but lie to me since we met. Why should I trust anything you say now?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me differently," he admitted, his voice quieter now, raw. "Because of who I am."

I froze, my anger wavering. My voice softened. "And who, exactly, is that?"

"The heir to the Night Court," he said, the words falling from his lips like a confession he'd carried for too long.

The ground seemed to slip out from under me. My vision blurred for a heartbeat, but I blinked hard, willing myself to stay rooted in the moment.

My father had warned me relentlessly about the Lord of Night—engraved the warning into my mind until it became part of me. The Night Court was treacherous. Its people were dangerous.

But he lied about the court. About its beauty.

Perhaps he lied about its people, too.

"Gods, I’m sure a fool.” I sighed, putting everything together. “Nyx Archeron," I said slowly, his name foreign and familiar on my tongue.

He nodded, watching me intently. "When I approached you on the balcony, I didn't know who you were. I swear it. But as we talked, I got comfortable, let my power stretch a bit further. Halfway through the night, I realized who you were. But I... I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want our parents' feud to dictate—this."

"This?" I asked faintly, though I didn't need clarification.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I can take you home, if you'd prefer."

Disappointment weighed in his tone, a stark contrast to the teasing arrogance I'd grown used to.

I wasn't mad at him for his lineage—he had no control over that. I wasn't even mad he'd lied. I was mad he hadn't told me sooner. Mad that it cast a shadow over everything we'd shared tonight, turning our conversations into something that felt artificial.

My shoulders slumped, the fight leaving me as quickly as it had arrived. I lowered myself back onto the bench beside him.

"I want to start over," I said, my voice hesitant but firm.

Relief washed over his features, and he relaxed slightly, though he kept a cautious distance. "I'm sorry for lying," he said, his words softer now, more earnest. "I was, nervous."

Something told me that wasn't an emotion he felt often.

"I know," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. Perhaps I was the only person who could.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned to him. "It's nice to meet you, officially, Nyx," I said, a tentative smile tugging at my lips.

"Likewise, Princess," he replied, mirroring my smile.

And in the silence that followed, we both silently agreed to leave the past behind us, if only for tonight.

Nyx leaned back, resting his arms on the bench as he looked up at the stars. "You know, I've never interacted with someone who’s an heir too. Should I be bowing?"

I smirked, tilting my head as I looked at him. "Oh, absolutely. A bow is essential. Maybe even throw in a grand speech. Something like, It is my great honor to meet the Princess of the Spring Court."

"That's a tall order," he said, his lips curving into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Would a wink and a smile suffice?"

I scoffed, leaning forward and propping my chin on my hand. "You'd probably trip over your own feet if you tried to bow."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, one brow arching in amusement.

"It's an educated guess," I shot back, crossing my arms.

He leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know, for someone who called me charming earlier, you're being awfully cruel."

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to look away. "I said no such thing."

"Oh, you definitely did." He grinned, leaning even closer. "You think I'm charming. Admit it."

"Nyx—"

"Say it, Princess."

I narrowed my eyes, pretending to deliberate. "You know what? Fine. I think you're charming, in the same way a stray cat is charming when it's begging for food. Annoying, persistent, but kind of hard to ignore."

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing fully, the tension leaving the both of us. "Fair enough. But if I'm a stray cat you're certainly a rabbit."

I blinked, caught off guard. "A rabbit?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Cute, curious, and way too confident for your own good."

"Confident?" I repeated, laughing. "This coming from you? The heir of the Night Court who decided to winnow me across Prythian on a whim?"

"That was a calculated risk," he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Calculated risk, my ass." I shook my head, unable to hide my grin. "You're lucky I haven't punched you yet."

"Oh, Princess," he drawled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "If you wanted an excuse to get your hands on me, you could've just asked."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. His proximity was... distracting.

The air shifted, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, heavier. His gaze locked on mine, and I swore the world shrank to just the two of us, the stars above fading into the background.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the way my heart was suddenly racing. "You're ridiculous."

"I offered to take you home," he said softly, his thumb brushing idly over the back of my hand and I wasn’t sure when they intertwined again, "and yet here we are." His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something real.

I didn't answer, my throat suddenly tight. He was too close now, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Before I could overthink it, his hand moved, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers lingered at my temple, his touch featherlight.

"Nyx..." I breathed, not even sure what I was about to say.

But he didn't answer—not with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in the gentlest, softest kiss.

It was tentative, as if he wasn't sure if I'd pull away. But I didn't. I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was foreign, but filling me with a warmth similar to the sun's morning rays.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I shook my head, my thoughts a tangle of emotions. "We can't," I blurted, though my voice betrayed me with its lack of conviction.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with something that felt like regret—but also determination.

Our eyes remained locked, mere inches apart. We really couldn't, not with who we were, not with who our parents were.

Neither of us seemed to care at that moment, and I don't know if it was me or him who moved first, but suddenly his soft lips were back on mine.

This time, there was no hesitation. His hand cupped my jaw, pulling me closer as his lips claimed mine. It wasn't soft or shy anymore—it was raw, urgent, as though the world might end if he didn't kiss me harder.

I felt myself melt into it, my hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his free hand moving to my waist to hold me steady. The air around us seemed to shift, thickening, crackling with an energy I couldn't place.

Then it happened.

A snap, like a tether locking into place.

I gasped against his lips but didn't move away, the sensation overwhelming as something warm and ancient bloomed deep in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. It was hard to put into words, but suddenly I felt connected to the male against me, connected to his emotions, his thoughts, his very soul. Tethered. Bound.

Nyx pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as his breath came in quick, uneven bursts. His eyes were wide, filled with equal parts wonder and disbelief.

"You felt that too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could only nod, my own breath shaking as I tried to process what had just happened.

The mating bond.

The realization settled between us like a living, breathing thing, as though it had been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

"Nyx," I began again, but he silenced me with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

He leaned in again, kissing me softly, the smile on his lips brushing against mine like a whispered secret. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself, as if the bond was drawing him closer with every passing second. When he pulled back, his amusement lingered in his expression, though his eyes were heavy with the weight of what we'd just discovered.

"The gods have a cruel way of amusing themselves," he murmured, his voice laced with irony.

I sighed, our noses brushing as we remained impossibly close. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure it out," he reassured, his tone soft but certain. His hands, strong and steady, cradled my face, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me. "It doesn't have to change anything."

"But it will," I argued, my voice trembling.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern against my cheek. "I know."

The ache in my chest was something new and raw, a longing that pulsed in time with the bond, an unspoken promise tying us together. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once. My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to sift through the torrent of thoughts crashing over me.

After a moment, his demeanor grew more serious, though his thumb continued its soothing path along my cheek. “We’ll need somewhere safe to be when we accept the bond.”

I tilted my head, my eyes fluttering open as I frowned at him

In confusion. “Safe?”

His lips quirked, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve heard stories of what happens to couples during The Frenzy. It’s, intense.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, not from the cold, but from the vivid images that his tone—and my imagination—conjured.

Nyx raised a brow, clearly catching the direction of my thoughts, but I quickly stammered, “Just cold.”

“Cold?” His smirk returned, though it was softer this time, laced with something tender. “Here.”

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of it enveloped me immediately, carrying his scent—fresh air, cedarwood, and something uniquely him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as his hands lingered for a moment, making sure the jacket sat snugly around me.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he settled back, his hand casually brushing against mine.

And just like that, the air between us shifted again—lighter, easier, yet still charged with something deeper.

“We’ll figure this out,” Nyx said softly, his confidence unwavering.

Looking at him now, his jacket around my shoulders and a small, reassuring smile on his lips, I knew he meant it.

And then, as if he couldn't resist, he kissed me again.

This one was gentle, hesitant, but filled with so much care it nearly unraveled me. His lips lingered on mine, soft and warm, making it impossibly hard to focus.

"Lucien," I blurted out, pulling back suddenly.

Nyx blinked, his brows furrowing at my abrupt shift. "What about him?"

An idea began to form, one I clung to like a lifeline. "Lucien—you know him, don't you?"

"He's married to my aunt," Nyx said cautiously, his tone laced with curiosity.

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "My father lets me visit the Day Court now that Lucien is ruling there. Maybe... maybe I can convince him to let me stay with Lucien for a while. You could find a reason to be there too."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind clearly racing through the implications. "And when you have to return to the Spring Court?" he asked, his voice measured.

"We'll figure it out then," I said, shaking my head. The thought of leaving him made my chest tighten painfully, but I pushed through the discomfort. "I just... I want this. I want us."

His answer was immediate, the conviction in his voice struck a chord deep within me. "I do too."

"Good," I said, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. "Then tomorrow, I'll talk to my father. In the meantime, you can talk to me using your Daemati powers. Can't you?"

He nodded, his sapphire eyes softening as they roamed over my face.

"We'll be fine," I said, my voice steadier now, the words carrying a newfound determination.

Nyx mirrored my smile, and for a moment, it felt as though the world narrowed to just the two of us. This male—who had teased me, infuriated me, and unraveled me in the span of a week—had somehow wormed his way into my heart. And now, with the bond tying us together, I couldn't imagine life without him.

"Are we okay with Lucien and your aunt knowing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper as the thought hit me.

"They'd be the first people I'd tell out of my entire family," he said without hesitation.

"Me too," I agreed softly.

His thumb brushed against my cheek again, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "We'll be fine," he repeated as if trying to convince us both.

But as he said it, I believed him.

The warmth between us lingered as we sat on the bench, the conversation flowing back into the easy rhythm of banter. He teased me about my lack of subtlety in staring, while I reminded him that he was the one who practically glowed under the moonlight, making it impossible not to.

But the night was growing late, and the weight of reality began to creep in.

"I should get you back to Summer's borders," Nyx finally said, his voice tinged with reluctance.

I sighed, not wanting the night to end, but I nodded. "You're right."

He stood and offered me his hand, which I took without hesitation. "Three days," I said as we began walking out of the cave. "Meet me in Day."

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. "Three days."

—

When we reached the border, the air seemed heavier, more final. I turned to him, feeling the pull of the bond even as I prepared to leave. I shrugged off the jacket he had draped over my shoulders and held it out to him.

"Here," I said. "Take it back. If my father sees it, he'll have questions."

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Keep it."

I frowned. "Nyx—"

"Nope. You keep it. Hide it if you're worried about your father. Or don't. Either way, it gives me an excuse to see you again."

I gave him a flat look, but his smugness only deepened.

"Nyx," I repeated, more firmly this time, shoving the jacket into his chest.

He caught it easily but didn't take it. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. "Princess, if you give it back, I'll have no reason to track you down. And that would be such a shame."

I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. His logic was infuriatingly charming, and the grin he wore told me he knew he was winning.

"Fine," I relented with a dramatic sigh, clutching the jacket back to my chest. "You win."

His smile softened into something warmer as he leaned down, brushing a kiss against my lips. It was quick, light, and left me wanting more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice like a caress.

I huffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Don't push it."

But he kissed me again, this time slower, deeper, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me closer. I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against mine.

"Nyx," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a chuckle. "I have to go."

"One more," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

I hesitated, but the bond between us tugged insistently, and I found myself nodding. "Fine."

This time, he kissed me like he wanted me to remember it, to carry the taste of him back with me to Spring. His hands framed my face as his lips claimed mine, the kiss lingering, searing itself into my memory.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breathing uneven. "Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," I echoed, my voice soft, but my resolve firm.

With one last lingering glance, I winnowed back to Spring Court Manor, the taste of him still on my lips and his jacket clutched tightly in my hands.

My father was going to kill me.

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yearning-for-autumn · 1 year ago

Text

Would That I -- Part 11

A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.

Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 3

Were you jealous?

You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.

You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.

How dare he.

It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.

You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.

Cauldron damn and burn him.

The next week you received another letter.

Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.

You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.

You found him in the living room, reading.

“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.

“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”

“Eris.”

“Ah.”

You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.

“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.

“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.

“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”

“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.

“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.

“You are not helping.”

“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”

He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.

Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.

It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.

Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.

Why in all the realms would I dine with you?

You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.

You have no one to be faithful to.

You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.

There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.

---

Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.

On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.

“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.

He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.

Lucien has agreed to see you.

Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.

Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.

Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.

Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.

Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred.

Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.

“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,

“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”

Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.

Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure.

The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.

---

You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”

“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.

“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.

“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.

“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.

“Lucien.” He said.

“Eris.”

“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.

Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”

Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.

“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.

“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.

“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”

“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”

As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.

---

In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.

“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”

Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.

Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.

“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.

“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.

“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.

“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.

“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.

“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”

“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.

“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.

He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.

---

You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta.

He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.

Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.

Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.

He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.

Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.

“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”

Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.

Let you go.

Forever.

Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.

He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.

Fine. Where should I meet you?

He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.

On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.

I will be there.

It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.

---

You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.

It was safer for Eris on your own.

You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.

“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.

“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.

“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.

“I had to.”

“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.

“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.

“Try me.” You pressed.

“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.

You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.

“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”

He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.

“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.

“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.

Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.

“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”

You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.

“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”

Hurt. Pain. Despair.

“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”

There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.

Hope.

Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.

“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.

“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”

There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.

“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”

He panted, nodding frantically.

“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”

You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.

He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.

“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.

“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.

He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.

This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.

“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.

You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.

“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.

“I can explain.”

Taglist:

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redbleedingrose · 1 month ago

Note

Can you please write cute fluff headcanons of the acotar men ( whichever you want to write about) pampering their fem s/o with a massage because they see her tense with stress? Please and thank you .

Pleaseeee, the Bat Boys and Vanserra Bro's know how to treat their girls, especially when they are stressy spaghetti!!

I kind of want to split this up into a mini series, so I will do Rhys first. Let me know who y'all want second in the comments!

Rhysand

okay first off, why are you even stressed? This male does his very best to make sure his darling is never worried about anything.

But its okay, sometimes your emotions get the better of you. Not your fault darling, you're just his sweet girl who likes to worry your pretty head about things like how emotionally constipated Az is, or how Cassian is working overtime with his training after throwing out his back (embarrassing for the old ass male), and how Morr is being too secretive these past few months and something is definitely going on with her. Rhys thinks it is so adorable how you worry about the members of the inner circle, how you take care of them in the ways that they need.

He loves watching you pitter patter around the apothecary, trying to gather materials to create a balm for Cass' back. And he can't help but muse over you fussing over Azriel, forcing him into the settee in your office and having yourselves a little therapy session (he knows he will hear the tea about it later when you both go to bed, and he cannot wait). He does moan and groan when you plan for a girls night out with Amren and Morr, he wants to have some alone time with his mate, but you settle into his lap and pepper kisses all over his face and neck putting him into a lovesick daze before rushing off with a promise of what is to come when you arrive home from your night.

Anyway, you do sometimes get overwhelmed, you care so much. You worry about Rhysand, you worry about the inner circle, and more, you worry about Velaris and the entire night court. Being the first high lady of the Night Court has designed a load of pressure on you to be perfect at all times, to always say and do the right thing. And Rhys, well he grew up with that pressure. He knew this was going to happen to him, but he cannot imagine the stress you give yourself. Again, you care so deeply, and that is one of the things that made Rhys fall for you, so much so, he physically aches when you aren't around.

You always try to hide when you feel overwhelmed, too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it. Part of you doesn't want to bother the high lord, knowing he, himself, is incredibly busy putting out fires on a daily basis, and handling it with such grace. It is almost annoying how effortless Rhys rules. But Rhys knows. He knows you, and he knows your heart and soul. You don't have to tell him you are feeling overwhelmed.

He can feel it, he can see it. He notices everything about you. He clocks the crinkle of concern between your eyebrows, the way your hands shake ever so slightly as you read through and sign the most tedious and boring paperwork, the way you twist and turn the custom wedding ring on your finger, the way you shake your right leg as it rests across your other leg and how you pause it when you finally become aware you are doing it, only to start again. You are teeming with anxiety, and he will do everything in his power to get you to relax. He can't have his beautiful wife worried like this, oh no, not at all. You are too good, too pure, too precious to him to ever allow such a thing.

After deciding he has seen enough of his pretty girl worrying, he swoops you up, out of your chair and into his arms, right where you belong, carrying you just like he did on your wedding night, his stunning bride. He ignores your protests with a firm shake of his head, and kissing the side of your head with a small hum, tightening his grip on your squirming thighs and right at the edge of your breast, carrying you out of your office and into your shared bath. Halfway to the bathroom, you gave up your fussing and settled into his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head into his warm chest. He sets you down gently onto the counter, and traces his hands up your sides and settling onto your jaw, softly kissing every part of your face he can reach, focusing his attention on your rounded cheeks, pouted lips, fluttering eyes and your temple instead of answering your questions on what you are doing in your bathroom when you each have mountains of paperwork lining your desks that need to be completed before the winter solstice next week. "Darling, I don't mean to hush you, but hush. You, my mesmerizing mate, are too stressed out for your own good. I don't want you to worry about a single thing, and I will take care of it."

You immediately go into full denial mode, rambling with a quivering lip, "I can handle it Rhys, I am High Lady, and this is my duty, and I know what I am doing." Your husbands violet eyes twinkle as they normally do when they are focused in on you, and he listens on as you bubble out excuses and far fetched tales describing how you "really aren't stressed" and have "no idea what he is talking about," all the while rubbing at your tense shoulders and kissing the side of your mouth until he finally hushes you again. "S'alright baby, I know. I know you can handle it and that you know what you are doing. But if I am being honest, sometimes I get overwhelmed. And I just need you, I need you to be close to me. So will you please take this bath with me doll? I will even feed you chocolate covered strawberries and give you a massage with that lavander oil you love so much after."

The pecks to the side of your mouth were enough to convince you to stay with your mate, and follow through on his plans for a relaxing evening, but you didn't need to tell him that. The chocolate covered strawberries and full body massage are just an added bonus. The quirk of your lips is enough for your mate to vanish both your clothes and place you into the warm bath in front of him, holding your back close to his chest. He washes your hair, even letting the conditioner sit in while he presses his fingers into the tight knots in between your shoulder blades. After washing each other off, you both find yourselves snuggling in your bed designed for his large illyrian wings. You lay your head against his corded chest, giving into the deep sleep that calls you as he holds you pressed up against him.

Thank you so much for reading! Please like, comment, and reblog! It mean's the world to me.

Here is more of my work: Masterlist

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solbaby7 · 1 year ago

Text

Make You Feel Something

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: sexual tension, some anxious themes, probably typos, some swearing, and two best friends—they might kiss

summary: You paint a certain Shadowsinger like one of those French girls

[ inspired by that quote “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect, it’s supposed to make you feel something.]

—

“Just stay still.”

“I don’t know—I feel like I’m not doing this right.”

You sigh, a soft smile stretching across your features watching Azriel attempt to stop his fidgeting. “You’re doing perfect, just get comfortable and lay there—I’ll do the rest.”

The paper was thick, a little yellowed but the charcoal in your hand seems to enjoy such conditions. Your back settles into the plush cushions on the couch, a throw pillow tucked against your thighs and every now and then you glance over the sketchbook to peer over at the partially bared body before you. “What’s this for anyway?”

“Practice,” You mumble, clearly distracted when roughly outlining the shape of him, the throne of a seat he was splayed over, shirtless with his fighting leathers hanging dangerously low on his hips and large wings shuffled behind him. “Why are you so nervous? You’ve been shirtless around me a million times.”

His left arm shifts again before you can draw the outline of it. “No one’s ever painted me before.”

“Technically, I haven’t gotten to the painting part yet. This will eventually become my reference photo for that.” The words don’t soothe him how you’d hoped and after a while Az is moving enough to have you settling down the charcoal, eyes sliding to his own. “What’s going on in your head?”

“I don’t know where to put my hands.” The shadowsinger sheepishly admits, looking more boyish than you’d seen him in centuries. Dark hair falls over his forehead and judging by the neat lines along the perimeter of his head, Az had recently gotten a haircut.

He attempts to hide his hands, tucking them behind his head or shoving them under pillow until you make a move to shuffle off the couch and finally it all makes sense. The fidgeting wasn’t because your best friend laid half-naked before you but the creeping insecurity of his scars ruining the final product. “Lay like this,” Azriel’s like putty in your grasp, malleable and easy to guide when you shift one leg to casually drape over the arm rest. He’s at a bit of an angle but the way you position him gives off attractive arrogance, effortless masculinity mixed with a boyish charm. “They’re beautiful,” Your voice is filled with uncapped love, lips soft when you take both of his hands in your own and press a kiss on the back of each. “Art isn’t supposed to be perfect—it’s supposed to make you feel something.”

Hazel eyes take you in, memorizing the slight furrow of your brow as you make a few final adjustments; his hands on full display while you mumble under your breath, something about the lighting and your nose scrunches a little when his shadows tickle at your cheeks. “What do they make you feel?”

There’s a brief pause and you can’t make eye contact for a few seconds, fearful that if you did your resolve would break and you’d be too busy trying to take his clothes off to worry about the poor beginnings of your drawing. “I couldn’t tell you honestly without ruining our friendship,” His brow quirks, throat bobbing with a gulp. “—but if I didn’t like them I wouldn’t have asked you to model for me.” Relief spreads when a smile tugs at his mouth, head dipping down to hide the warmth that blooms at his cheeks when you waggle your brows at him. He’s much more relaxed when you return to your seat, a slow breath releasing from you as you twist your neck, fingers gripping around the charcoal once more and Azriel can’t seem to take his sights away from you.

Painted toes wiggle softly at the edge of the cushions, bare knees drawn up and your hair is gathered in a ponytail. You hum when you focus, some song Azriel’s never heard of before seeming to aid in alleviating the self-consciousness and pleasantly distracting his brain. Five minutes turn into ten, then fifteen before Azriel breaks the silence, being sure to keep his body exactly as you’d placed it. “What’s that song?”

“Not sure,” His body was an artists dream, all hard lines and alarmingly perfect symmetry; the golden light casting through the room, scattering moody shadows along the angles of Az’s face and your thighs clench slightly when you’re forced to pay such close attention to the plush curve of his mouth. “My mom used to sing it when I was really little—can’t remember all of it but it calms me down.”

“You’ve seen me shirtless a million times, what’s there to be nervous about?” Your eyes roll at his harmless teasing, huffing at the way he’d thrown your words back at you and it’s become increasingly harder than you make it look to get a fucking grip on your body’s reaction to him.

The response is instinctual, fingers rubbing the page to soften edges and your brain wanders to what it would be like for real. “You’re not exactly hard on the eyes and I’m not used to having a reason for examining your body for this long.” The warmth of his skin beneath your hands. The free will to travel the contours of his muscles and kiss each and every scar, ripple and divot formed by countless hours of training and dedication. He’s easy to draw when you spend so much time oggling, bottom lip caught between your teeth when mimicking the lines of his abdomen, the inky trail of hair that disappeared beneath dark grey fabric. “It’s truly annoying how perfect you are—could probably get some sort of sexual gratification from how satisfying it is to draw you.”

There’s no room for embarrassment when Az is so easy-going, the same laugh you’d always yearned for pulling from his throat and you have to swat away a few creeping shadows from sneaking a peek before the final result. “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s true,” The fireplace crackles behind you, a warm glow filling the room and kissing at the exposed skin of the model before you. Sharp jaw, soft smile; the hard line of his brows smoothed out by the light in his eyes—like sweet honey and sunshine. “I’ve never once drawn someone like you.”

“I’d hope not.” Azriel’s head tilts just a little, brows furrowed in thought. “Who else do you ask to get half-naked for the sake of practice?”

He’s fully aware of how it sounds—the jealousy lacing his tongue and you have to pull your hands away from the paper a moment before the slight tremble threatened to ruin the flow of the strands of hair you’d been steadily shaping around his head. “Not many seeing as I usually prefer painting models that are nude. I figured for the sake of our friendship I’d spare you.”

“Spare me?” He scoffs in a way that reminds you of Rhys, a little cocky and entirely too confident. “I’m not sure your heart would’ve taken seeing me nude. Certainly, it was me doing you the favor keeping the rest of my clothes on.”

Azriel’s skin goes hot at your lack of response, gaze sliding thoroughly over the length of his body from the top of his head to the very tips of his toes and a slow smile appears. “You sound awfully confident,” You shift in place, adjusting your legs and stretching out to see him better. “Take it off then.”

His mouth parts, words caught in his throat for a few beats of time before letting out a breath. His hands hesitate before untying the leathers and shimmying them down his thighs. There’s no hiding the desire that clouds your vision when taking in the simple black material that held snug against his cock. His thumbs hook in the waistband, shoving them down and tossing them aside.

It’s not the most simple task to tweak at the preexisting sketch, snuffing out dark lines and fading them into the background enough to make it easier to map out the thick lines of his thighs and calves—the generous length hanging confidently between it all. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually do it.”

“Should I not have? Are you uncomfortable?”

Your head shakes in denial, brows furrowed in focus and Azriel can’t place how it feels to be looked at as a specimen rather than a person. Your gaze is admirably respectful, quick glances with your tongue peeking through when perfecting soft lines and adding shading here and there. “Believe it or not, I couldn’t be more relaxed.”

He believes it too, your heartbeat is steady and controlled, limbs perfectly lax and Azriel is more than grateful for the view when you’re all laid out; sleep clothes shifting with each move and desire burns in his belly when you flick your ponytail off your shoulder, exposing the curve of your neck. “Where do you plan on putting this?”

“Nowhere, it’s private.” For viewing pleasure only, for those late nights when picking up a random male from Rita’s didn’t quite scratch the itch. “Once the painting is finished I’ll give it to you and keep the sketch for my portfolio.” You move on to his wings, tongue clicking against the roof of your mouth when you slide from the cushions, bare toes sinking into the throw rug when you stand before him. “Can you put those up higher?” Azriel complies with ease, craning his wings higher but the furrow of your brow doesn’t subside. “Spread them a little.” Your head shakes when he moves and you reach up, fingers millimeters away before glancing down at him. “May I touch?”

He should’ve said no—maintaining some sort of boundary because drawing him naked was one thing but standing before him asking to touch; all the resolve in the world wouldn’t be able to save him. Azriel’s mouth opens, intent on saying no but by some sick sense of self-indulgence he nods in agreement, eyes fluttering shut when the scent of your shampoo enters his space. Warm skin grazes his own and while the shadowsinger is a tense mess beneath you, you’re the picture of serinity, completely in your element when carefully adjusting the membranous wings how you pleased. He tries to hold it back but your hands are so soft and the rough groan that fills the silence has goosebumps raising.

“You can feel all of that?”

Azriel traces a finger up the outer side of your thigh, pausing at the hem of your shorts. “Can you feel that?”

“Right, stupid question.” Maybe you linger longer than necessary, tracing over a texture you’d never felt before; not leathery, softer than that but just as sturdy. Warm to the touch and they shudder when you smooth over the thin seam at top that fused everything together. “They’re beautiful.”

“I’m flattered, really,” His voice is strained, hands clenched in tight fists and when you glance down past inky strands, his cock is standing at attention against his stomach. “—but I think you’re overestimating my self-control.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Not unless you asked me to.”

The swallow you force down is audible, hands shaky when you tuck them back at your sides but you don’t make a move to step away this time. Instead, you stand before him, fingers coated in charcoal and there’s a little smeared at your collarbone. His hand is up and touching before common sense can deter him; pure fire burns beneath each fleeting touch, knuckles grazing at the curve of your jaw and there’s no hiding the rising beat of your heart when he wipes your skin clean. “Thanks.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” His head falls back, words low and barely contained. The hands he pulls away keep drawing back like a magnet, touching greedily at the sides of your thighs and stopping at your waist. “I’m supposed to be helping you and my thoughts are not very helpful.”

Years of denying himself the simple pleasure of touch and the powerhouse of a male on the battlefield is reduced to a simpering baby, grappling for more touch, more of your silky clothes shifting against his skin and the sweet smell of vanilla and cocoa, sugar cookies and warm milk filling his nose when he pulled you in closer. Better judgement makes you wonder if you should pull away, find a way to comfort him and keep it friendly but the more distance that closes between you the more of that hard length you begin to feel against you. “Az—“ He doesn’t let the warning fully come to life, hands twisting behind the back of your knees until you’re sat above him, resting on bare thighs and your hands brace at his shoulders.

“I know,” Azriel repeats it over and over under his breath, face buried in the dip of your throat, mouth grazing at the sensitive skin there and the little whimper he draws from you has that hard cock between you twitching against your stomach. “I thought I could handle it but you just feel so fucking good.”

It was wrong.

So fucking wrong.

Shit like this never ended well; mixing fucking and friendship but while you kept thinking no your body stubbornly arched into his touch. You bared more of your throat to him when he buries his nose there, taking in your smell while he memorized the feel of you. The slope of your shoulders, the flare of your ribs and the soft curve of your stomach. You grind onto him, searching for more friction when Azriel follows the length of your legs down then up to cup the fat of your ass. “Take it off.”

You feel weak; too captivated to acknowledge your backbone when you tug the shirt from your head and throw it somewhere behind you. His mouth is insatiable when pressing kisses to every inch of exposed flesh, holding you closer with each breathy moan and whispered plea for more, more, more. Nothing could’ve prepared you for his mouth finally slotting over your own.

Azriel’s careful now, slow and attentive, maintaining a pace as you got to know one another in ways you’d only thought about when you’d snuffed out the fire for the night and shuffled under the covers, fingers hiked up your nightgown for a few minutes of uninterrupted pleasure. He groans into your mouth when tongues touch, fingers tangling in your hair to keep you close.

You hand slides between the two of you, wrapping around the stiff length of him and the moan he lets out has him sinking back into the chair. Preening under the attention you continue, gaze locked on the half-lidded hazel eyes before you, his arms flexing at his sides, hands holding onto your thighs for stability because your hands were so soft, holding him so firmly and the steady drags up and down was enough to have his thoughts muddled and hips bucking up into your touch. Swears spill from his mouth like prayers, pleading and begging for you to keep going and watching him crumble beneath you was a greater high than any smokes or powders. “Feels so fucking good.”

“You look good under me,” Draped across a throne like some entitled High Lord finally receiving his birthweight as promised. “You close already?” Azriel’s cock throbs in your hands, pre-cum oozing from his slit and the thumb that curls to swipe over it is torturous. “Poor Illyrian baby—I’ve barely even touched you yet.” A cruel laugh accompanies the choppy breaths and hazel eyes kept falling victim to the backs of his lids. “The High Lords spymaster. The feared Shadowsinger. A great warrior with seven Syphons to hold onto all that power and here you are,” Your pace speeds up, pure feminine satisfaction building when watching such manly power submit beneath a woman. “—falling apart just for me.”

You feel his release coating your palm and you use it for better slip when you keep going, riding out his pleasure until he’s pulling your hands away, chest heaving.

He watches you slip from his lap while he catches his breath, catching a towel tossed his way for the mess. “Clean up for me, I need to finish this before the lanterns burn out.”

Azriel doesn’t listen though, rising from the throne and clearing the distance between you in no more than three steps and his mouth is right back on your own.

Fuck it, some of the best art was left unfinished anyway.

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