#nyx fanfic
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divinemare · 1 year ago
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Nyx: I'm getting married, Demetria.
Demetria (OC): Oh that's great.
Nyx: To you, sign this.
Demetria:
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enigmatic-mystery-777 · 2 months ago
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Story time!! And a cute one at that. Daniel Jackson x gn! reader romantic one-shot:
Because Of Urgo
Urgo might be one of the most annoying entities yet encountered, but even you have to admit his presence made the impossible possible.
(Based on the canon episode, yes)
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Idea by: @phantom-of-grace (who has the best ideas, truly)
Taglist: @phantom-of-grace @systemadministratorclu @stargaterevival @cuillere @mrssci-fi-nerd-sg-1 @daydreampending @riverageleis
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skyfallscotland · 10 months ago
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Fury hit 500 kudos the other day 🥹
In case you’re not familiar with my firstborn child Tessa, her story goes a little something like this:
🦇 she’s a badass female Illyrian & shadowsinger
🗡️ she may or may not be dishing out unsanctioned revenge on deserving males in Illyria by slicing and dicing wings
✨ she has some…fun family ties that come to light when the high lord’s inner circle begin trying to hunt down this mysterious attacker
🖤 she’s trying very hard not to fall in love with Nyx Archeron, the high lord’s son and all-around pain in the ass (and bonafide sweetheart)
So if you like a fun little romance story that adds to the acotar worldbuilding, features a badass, sassy FMC and introduces a whole host of next generation characters, feel free to check it out! 🥰
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"Did you not see what happened to the last male who stood in my way?" She said, her voice low, pasting a saccharine smile on her face. "Don't make me put you on your knees." He shifted impossibly closer, so close she could breathe in his scent of pine and sea mist. His lips brushed her ear as he bent down to reply, "Darling, I would love to get on my knees for you."
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itsswritten · 8 months ago
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wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
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Wings Universe - More from this world.
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"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.
You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 
Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 
If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.
"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.
 𓇢𓆸
Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.
The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
 𓇢𓆸
Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
 𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
 𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
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As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 
“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”
Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 
“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.
No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.
A glow they were forever grateful for.
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a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
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surielstea · 17 days ago
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Dancing With Fate
Original request.
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Pairing: Nyx Archeron x Tamlin’s Daughter!Reader
Summary: While struggling with her relationship with her father, Reader goes to her first ball and stumbles upon a male she has never met, but feels a distinct connection to.
Warnings: slight angst with a parent, mostly fluff between Reader and Nyx
A.Note: I apologize for how long this took me to get out, I really struggled with how to format her back story but I ended up fairly happy with it, let me know if y’all want more of these two I’d be happy to write a few one shots of their dynamic as well as all the family drama since I’m such a sucker for the forbidden love trope ;)
6.4k word count.
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"Can you do that again for me, my sweet?" my mother whispered, her voice trembling as she crouched down to my height. I watched her eyes fill with a glassy shine that I didn't understand. She reached out, her hands shaking as they wrapped around my small wrists. I blinked up at her, wide-eyed and oblivious, only feeling the warmth of her touch and the tremor of her fingers.
I balled my hands into tiny fists, scrunching my face with all the concentration I could muster. I wanted so badly to make her proud, to show her what I could do. I willed the claws beneath my skin to surface, squeezing my fists tighter until, with a soft tearing, they slid out, small and sharp, shining like new silver. Her breath caught, and her eyes went even wider as she stared at the claws that had split through my knuckles. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and I tilted my head, wondering why she was sad. I reached out, my claws joining the action as I moved, but she stumbled back, evading the sharp silver, her hand pressed over her mouth.
"What's wrong, Momma?" I asked, my voice tiny. I tried to reach for her cheek, to wipe the tear away like she'd done for me so many times, but she shook her head, forcing a small, shaky smile.
"Nothing, it's alright, my sweet," she whispered, her voice soft and a little broken. "I just... didn't think you'd be able to do this so soon." Her fingers lingered on my cheek, warm and tender. She looked at me like she was memorizing my face, like every part of me mattered.
I gave her a proud smile, lifting my hands. "Isn't it cool?" I grinned widely, my innocence unbroken. I had no idea what my claws really meant, or the sorrow that darkened her gaze as she watched me slash the air with them, filling the quiet night with soft, sharp swishes. She just sat there, quiet and sad, holding her own hands close to her chest as if they couldn't bear to let me go.
It was a late night, much too late for me to be awake. I clung tightly to my mother's hand as she led me through a garden filled with roses that gleamed under the moonlight. The flowers were tall and beautiful, and I wanted to reach out to touch them, but my mother's grip kept me close. She moved so fast, her cloak wrapped tightly around her, like she was hiding from something.
"Where are we going, Mom?" I asked in a small voice, but she didn't answer, her steps quickening as she pulled me along. The roses seemed to shiver in the breeze, their petals brushing against us as we passed, and the moon above us was high and cold, casting everything in a silver glow.
Ahead of us was a huge mansion, bigger than any house I'd ever seen. It loomed in the night, dark and quiet, like it was waiting for us. My mother slowed as we neared the porch, her breathing heavy as she crouched down in front of me, her face serious in a way that made my heart beat faster.
She pressed a folded piece of paper into my hands, her fingers cold and firm around mine. "We're going to play a game, okay?" she said, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her fingers brushed my cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
I nodded eagerly, happy that she wanted to play. Games with Momma were always fun. She pointed to the paper, her hand gentle but urgent. "Whoever opens that door," she said, her voice steady but quiet, "you give them this paper, okay?" Her gaze held mine, as if she was trying to pour a message into me with her eyes. "And, my sweet," she paused, swallowing hard, "I'm going to hide now. And no matter what they ask you, you can't tell them I was with you. It's a big secret."
I blinked up at her, not fully understanding, but I nodded anyway, like a good girl. She reached out, her fingers lingering on my cheek again, her eyes shimmering with something I couldn't name. "I'll meet you at the window, okay?" Her voice cracked, and a tear slipped down her cheek. "It'll be fun, I promise."
I reached up to brush the tear away, but she was already rising. Before I could say anything else, she knocked on the tall doors, and with a last, lingering look, she turned and melted into the shadows. Just like that, she was gone.
Suddenly, the night felt enormous and empty, the shadows stretching out around me, dark and cold. The noises from the forest grew louder, like the trees and animals and everything hidden within the dark were whispering all around me. My heart pounded, and I almost wanted to cry out, to beg for her to come back and take me home. But before I could make a sound, the massive doors creaked open, casting a sliver of light onto the porch.
A man stood in the doorway, tall and fierce, with wild red hair and eyes that seemed to cut through the darkness. One of his eyes gleamed gold, like a piece of metal, and he looked down at me with a frown, his expression stern and sleepy. "Excuse me, Mister," I squeaked, trying to remember my mother's instructions.
His gaze softened just a bit as he took in my tiny figure. "And who might you be?" he asked, his voice rough but not unkind.
"I'm supposed to give this to you." I held up the paper, my hands trembling as I waited for him to take it. He knelt down, eyeing me carefully as he unfolded the note, his expression unreadable. I gave him a polite smile, remembering my mother's lessons, but his gaze flicked from the note back to me, his eyes narrowing.
"Where's your mother?" he asked, his voice soft but sharp.
I shrugged, fidgeting under his gaze. "I don't know," I whispered, my heart thudding in my chest.
"But she brought you here, didn't she?" he pressed, his gaze steady. I swallowed, unsure of how my mother would want me to answer. After a long, quiet moment, he sighed, opening the door wider. "Come inside. You shouldn't be out here alone."
I followed him into the mansion, the silence thick and heavy as he led me up a grand staircase. My shoes clicked against the cold, polished floor as we climbed up and up, stopping finally at a pair of wooden doors wrapped in ivy. I was too small to open them, so I just waited, feeling very small in the middle of the enormous hallway.
"Wait here a moment," he said, giving me a nod before stepping through the door. I looked around, mesmerized by the golden chandelier hanging above me, its glow casting strange, twisting shadows that moved as the lights flickered.
"I already told you I'm not in the mood to talk, Lucien." A deep, heavy voice sounded from beyond the door, and I jumped, hugging my cloak tighter around me.
"It's not that," Lucien replied, his tone shifting in a way that sounded unsure, even a little nervous. "You have a visitor."
The other voice was silent for a moment, and my stomach knotted up as I realized they were talking about me. "Tell them to leave," the man said finally, his tone cold and final.
Lucien sighed, and I heard the soft rustling of paper. The silence felt like it stretched forever, but then footsteps approached. The door swung open, and I looked up to see a tall man with golden hair, his eyes dark and sharp as they fell on me. I could tell by the way he looked at me that he wasn't used to children, that maybe he didn't know what to do with me.
But he crouched down slowly, his gaze softening just a bit as he held his hands up, like he wanted me to know he wasn't going to hurt me. "What's your name?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.
I told him, my voice a quiet whisper, but he nodded as if he'd heard every word. "Do you know who I am?" he asked, tilting his head, and I shook my head, looking down at my hands.
"I'm the High Lord of the Spring Court," he said softly, his tone proud but his eyes sad. My eyes widened, a little smile pulling at my lips. I'd heard of a High Lord in my mother's stories, someone powerful and magical.
"But, more importantly," he continued, his gaze searching my face, "I'm your father."
I blinked up at him, the words hanging in the air like they were something heavy, something I didn't yet understand. I wanted to ask him what it all meant, but all I could do was stare up at him, my fingers curling around the edge of my cloak, wishing I was safe in my mother's arms again.
———
Ever since that night, I've been confined to this estate on every special occasion, under the watchful eyes of my father's maids, lest I sneak away the moment I'm alone. Tonight, like many others, I'm left looking out the window of my bedroom—the same spot where I'd waited endlessly as a child, hoping my mother would come back for me.
But tonight was going to be different. I'd make sure of it.
I storm out of my room, my heels clicking with determined steps as I march down the hall. I swing open the doors to my father's study without knocking. He looks up from his papers, brow creased, clearly taken aback by my abrupt entrance.
"I'm going to the Dawn Court tonight," I say, my tone leaving no room for discussion.
"Absolutely not," he replies, shaking his head and dipping his quill back in the ink, dismissing me with the kind of finality he's used to exerting over me.
"All the courts are invited," I argue, stepping forward. "I'm obligated to go."
"No," he says again, his tone colder. "It's a high-profile ball. You're not ready."
I draw in a sharp breath, struggling to keep my temper in check. "Not ready? Father, I'm nineteen. If not now, then when?" This age had been difficult for him for some reason, I don't know why but ever since my birthday he's been acting strangely, started keeping me shut out and less involved—I may as well have just been imagining it or it was a coincidence it started happening after I turned nineteen, but once I got the thought in my head it was hard to get it out.
His expression hardens, his voice annoyingly calm. "Just, not now."
A chill spreads through my hands, and I have to resist the urge to bear the claws that hide beneath my skin. "I'm so tired of having every decision made for me," I say, pressing my palms to my temples as frustration wells up. "Of being treated like a prisoner in this house."
He stands, his temper fraying. "And I'm sick of you thinking you know best," His voice rises, echoing in the silence of the study. "You don't understand half of what's at stake."
"No, maybe I don't. But neither do you, apparently," I snap back. "Or maybe it's just that you're afraid to lose the only company you have left in this house. Is that it, Father?"
His hands ball into fists, metal-like claws gleaming from his knuckles. Mine slid out as well, a metallic gleam in the dim light.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarls, eyes darkening.
"Maybe I do," I bite back. "I hate this house." It came out as more of a confession than a retort, but his face falters, pain flickering through his eyes before he regains his composure.
"You don't mean that."
"I do," I insist, voice shaking with anger. "I hate this house, and I wish my mother never abandoned me here." The words are barely out of my mouth before I turn on my heel and stride out, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls shudder, my claws snagging on the wood of the door and scraping the paint off, revealing the bare, slightly rotted wood beneath. It felt like a metaphor, in a strange way.
I make my way to the garden, desperate for air. The night breeze is cool as I step out onto the deck, and I close the glass doors behind me a little more gently this time. Taking a few deep breaths, I walk along the garden path, letting the silence and cold soothe my frayed nerves. Winter's grip is finally loosening, and the garden is starting to come alive with buds and leaves. My favorite time of year.
I reach for one of the rosebuds, my claws retracting ever so slowly, my skin morphing over the hideous metal that gleamed in the moonlight. I forget the feeling of the power my father gifted me and remember the feeling and comforting warmth of my mother's power flickering beneath my fingertips. The flower blooms in my palm, reaching out toward me, and I smile faintly as I coax the other buds open along the path. Flower by flower my frustrating emotions ebb, and by the time I've reached the stone bench, my anger has cooled, replaced by something heavier, more complicated.
I sit, feeling the familiar weight of regret settle over me. I don't hate this house, not really. I hate the way I'm trapped in it.
The glass door opens, and I know without looking that it's him. My father takes a seat beside me on the bench, and I shift away, making it clear I'm not ready to forgive him just yet. We sit in silence, watching the newly-bloomed flowers sway in the night breeze. Finally, he sighs.
"You can go to the Dawn Court tonight," he says quietly.
I turn to him, my eyes wide with surprise.
He hesitates, looking down at his hands. "I'm..." He struggles around the word. "Sorry that you feel like you can't make your own choices," he mutters, his voice filled with a vulnerability I haven't heard ever before. "I'm trying to do better. And, you're right. I am afraid."
My heart softens, and the walls I've built up slowly crumble. "Afraid of what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Of losing you, in turn losing everything." He looks up, his eyes—a shade of green I've always found comfort in—filled with an emotion that makes my heart ache.
Without thinking, I wrap my arms around him, and he pulls me close, his hand gently stroking my back. "I'm sorry, too," I murmur into his shoulder.
He shakes his head. "Don't be. You're my daughter. You're allowed to be angry with me." He pulls back to look at me. "Just promise me one thing," he says. "Promise you won't run away tonight."
I give him a small smile, the request so obscene that u couldn't help it. "I'll be perfect. Thank you, Father." I reassure.
He nods, satisfied, and rises from the bench. "We leave in an hour. You'd better start getting ready."
———
My dress is a soft lavender that hugs my waist and fans out into a beautiful, flowing skirt, the slit running up my thigh edged in delicate embroidered flowers. The open back crisscrosses with delicate ties, and the neckline is just low enough to be elegant without being too revealing. One of the maids has styled my hair in a half-up, half-down look, a few braided strands framing my face. For once, I feel exactly how I want to feel—elegant, feminine, and free.
I leave my bedroom and make my way down the hall to the marble staircase, where my father waits at the base. As I descend, his eyes widen, his mouth opening slightly as he takes in my appearance.
"Well?" I do a small spin, laughing at his awestruck expression.
He swallows, a proud smile slowly spreading across his face. "You look beautiful," he murmurs, pulling me into a hug.
I hug him back, letting him hold me close, and in that moment, it feels as if all the tension of our earlier argument melts away. We're just father and daughter again.
———
The Dawn Court ballroom is bathed in golden light, warm and inviting. I've barely stepped inside when a tall, dark-skinned man in white robes approaches, a halo of gold atop his head.
"And who is this lovely lady?" he asks, his voice rich with curiosity.
"My daughter," my father answers gruffly, his protective tone unmistakable.
The man blinks in surprise before offering a sheepish smile. "Ah, well then." He turns and makes a quick exit.
"Who was that?" I ask, amused by his reaction.
"High Lord of Day," my father mutters, a hint of irritation in his voice. "He has a reputation."
I raise an eyebrow, smiling as I unlink my arm from his. "Are all High Lords so... pretty?"
"Careful," he growls in warning.
A cheeky smile appears on my lips as I unhook my arm from his. "Only observations." I shrug. "I'm going to get a drink." I take a step away and he takes it with me. "Father, I'm only going to the refreshments table, not war. I'll be fine." I promise and he solicits a sigh.
"No wine." He demands and I shake my head in disbelief.
"Yes sir." I mock salute before spinning on my heel and walking across the ballroom, I make my way to the refreshment table and pour myself a glass from the fountain of cider, admiring the way the bubbles shimmer in the golden light. My father had said no wine but mentioned nothing about spiked cider. I take a long sip and begin to explore the ballroom, watching dancers swirl in gowns of blue and pink that mirror the sunset outside.
Lost in thought, I wander past an indoor garden filled with gardenias and evergreens. I couldn't help myself but slip inside, a few guests were inside, admiring the flowers just as I wished to do, so I deemed I was allowed to. I approached an arch of budded flowers, standing beneath the green vines that soon would be sprouted in color. I reached out, gently brushing a bud with my fingertips, watching as it blooms in reply.
"Your touch has improved since the last time I saw you," a familiar voice murmurs from behind me.
I turn, eyes lighting up as they land on a tan-skinned male with striking red hair. "Lucien!" I throw my arms around him, grinning.
He chuckles, pulling me into a warm hug. "You look stunning, little Fawn," he says, holding me at arm's length to take in my dress. "How did you manage to get out of the house?"
I smirk with a casual shrug. "Whipped out the claws."
He raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Like father, like daughter." He mused and I chuckled, looking down at the flowers reaching towards me, asking for my attention again.
"You want to dance?" His hand comes to my shoulder and I shake my head.
"You go ahead, I think I'll need a few more glasses before I step foot on the dance floor." I scoff and he shakes his head.
"Nonsense, you're a terrific dancer." He bumps my shoulder.
"I'm okay uncle, really," I reassured and he clamped his lips shut.
"Okay, find me if you need me." He presses a kiss to my temple and I nod.
He saunters away towards a group of friends I didn't recognize and I continue exploring, sipping my champagne as I wander through the crowd.
My gaze is caught by a group of strangers dressed in dark clothing. There's a woman in deep maroon, a honey brunette who smiles at me softly, and beside her, a tall man wearing a black-jeweled crown. I study them curiously, trying to place who they might be.
Distracted, I accidentally walk straight into someone's chest.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," I stammer, stumbling back. I trip over my heels, but a pair of strong hands catches me, steadying me before I fall.
"You alright?" an unfamiliar voice asks, deep and soothing.
I look up—and up—and up—at a broad-shouldered man with rugged features and half of his shoulder-length hair tied back. He has a friendly, easy-going smile that immediately puts me at ease.
"Yeah, sorry," I mutter, flushing slightly.
He chuckles, the sound rich and warm. "No need to apologize. I should have been watching where I was going. You'd think five centuries would be enough time to figure that out." He snorts, red siphons gleaming on his chest and hands.
I blink in surprise. "Five centuries?"
He grins, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, no need to make me sound ancient."
I laugh, feeling unexpectedly comfortable around him. "Right. Apologies again." I clamp my lips shut, embarrassed.
"Who's the lucky person that brought you here tonight?" He asks, sensing my embarrassment and switching the topic, shifting to face towards the crowd.
"Couldn't I have come on my own?" I counter, crossing my arms.
He laughs again. "Touché. But I'll bet that doesn't mean you'll be lacking for dance partners." He gestures to the dance floor.
"Maybe," I say with a smile, "but that depends on who asks."
"Well, I would, but my mate would probably have my head if I danced with anyone else," he says, feigning a solemn look.
"Pity," I replied playfully. "But it's alright—you don't seem all that familiar with your feet anyway."
He gasps, feigning insult. "Hey! I'll have you know I'm a world-class dancer!"
"Oh, really?" I raise an eyebrow. "Shame, then. You missed your chance."
He chuckles, backing away. "Well, it was nice talking to you—mystery lady."
"Likewise," I call after him with a smile, watching as he disappears into the crowd.
The music is lively, filling the ballroom with a vibrant energy as dancers swirl and laugh under the golden chandeliers. I sip the last of my cider, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through me. For the first time in ages, I feel, free. Maybe my father had been right to keep me close all these years; maybe I wasn't ready for this world of strangers and their sharp eyes. But as I watch the colors and movement around me, I know I wouldn't trade this feeling for anything.
Lost in my thoughts, I wander past the terrace doors and step outside, onto a balcony that overlooks a sprawling garden filled with glistening fountains and delicate white flowers. I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp night air, and let my fingers trace the cool stone railing wrapped in ivy.
Then I hear it—a quiet, amused hum from just behind me. I turn, startled, and my gaze falls on a young man leaning casually against the doorway, watching me with a slight, crooked smile.
He's tall, with jet-black hair that falls in tousled waves, and eyes that are strikingly, disarmingly blue. He wears a dark, impeccably tailored suit, with a midnight-blue shirt beneath, the top buttons undone enough to reveal tan skin beneath. There's an effortless elegance to him, a quiet confidence, like he belongs in every corner of this glittering world.
"I didn't mean to startle you," he says, stepping forward with a charming half-smile. "But I had to wonder what you were doing all by yourself out here. Parties like these are hardly tolerable alone."
I raise an eyebrow, feeling my cheeks warm under his gaze. "And yet here you are, all by yourself."
He chuckles, eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "Fair, though technically, I'm not alone anymore, am I?"
I laugh, feeling my earlier irritation with my father melt away as I look at him. "I suppose not. Though I doubt you're here to keep me company."
He raises a hand in mock innocence. "You wound me. I've been nothing but kind since we met."
"Have we met?" I ask, tilting my head. "I think I would've remembered," I say with an angled head and something flickers in his sapphire gaze that I can't quite place.
He seems to consider this, tilting his head thoughtfully. "No, we haven't officially met," he concedes. "Which feels like a shame, honestly."
The corners of my mouth lift in a smile. "So, are you going to introduce yourself, or are we just going to continue being strangers?"
His eyes sparkle with something like amusement as he extends a hand. "Strangers sounds nice," I say flippantly, looking out at the Dawn Courts skyline, a sliver of the sun barely visible. This party was supposed to last until dawn, until the sun returned and the entire court could watch the outmatched sunrise of this court.
I wasn't ready to commit to making any friends, I had just gained my freedom, I wished to revel in it for a few moments longer, nameless was my way of doing it.
He laughs, a rich, genuine sound that makes my heart skip. "Alright, stranger," he says, leaning casually against the railing beside me. "What brings you out to the edge of the ballroom?"
"Some air," I reply with a shrug, looking out over the garden. "I hadn't expected to feel so claustrophobic."
He nods, understanding flickering in his eyes. "Parties can be exhausting. All the faces, all the names. It's nice to step away."
I glance at him. "You sound like you've been to one too many of these."
"Oh, you have no idea," he says with a grin. "I think I've been to so many I could navigate them in my sleep."
"And here I thought you looked like you were having fun," I tease.
"Maybe I'm a good actor," he says, his tone playful. "Or maybe I just needed a reason to enjoy it."
I roll my eyes, but I can't help the smile that tugs at my lips. "Does that line actually work for you?"
"More often than you'd think," he says, laughing. "But since you're clearly immune to charm, let me try a different approach." He holds out a hand, bowing slightly. "Would you do me the honor of a dance, stranger?"
I hesitate, glancing back at the ballroom, but something about his easy smile, the spark of humor in his eyes, makes me want to take his hand. I place mine in his, letting him lead me closer.
The music inside changes as his lithe fingers make contact with my waist, shifting to a slower, softer melody. He adjusts my stance, guiding me with a gentleness that surprises me. There's a warmth in his gaze that makes my heart pound just a little faster as I look up at him.
"So, princess," he murmurs as we begin to move, his voice barely audible over the music echoing from inside. "Are you here with family? Or did you sneak away to attend the most boring ball of the season?"
I laugh, looking up at him with feigned offense. "Boring? I'll have you know I'm having a wonderful time."
"Are you?" he asks, eyes twinkling. "Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"
"Maybe a little of both," I admit, a smile tugging at my lips. "And you? Do you always call balls like these boring?"
"Only when my mother's not here to overhear," he replies, grinning. "But tell me, how did you get here?"
I hesitate, wondering how much to tell him, but there's something about his gaze that makes it feel safe, to be honest. "My father brought me," I say, keeping it vague. "He doesn't let me out much."
"Really?" The stranger's eyebrows lift in surprise. "I would've pegged you for someone who went wherever they pleased."
"I'd like to think so," I reply, laughing. "But apparently, my father has other ideas."
He raises an eyebrow, curiosity in his eyes. "What does he think you'll do? Start a rebellion?"
"Maybe," I say with a shrug, a playful glint in my eyes. "He's probably right."
His laughter is warm, and he holds me a little closer as we spin across the marbled balcony floor. "Well, if you ever need a partner in crime, let me know. I'm an excellent accomplice."
I arch an eyebrow, smirking. "How do I know you're any good at sneaking out?"
He grins, leaning down until his voice is a soft murmur in my ear. "Trust me, princess. You don't survive my family without learning how to slip away now and then."
I glance up, meeting his gaze, intrigued by the way his words hold a hidden depth, a story he's not telling. "Your family sounds, interesting."
"That's one way to put it," he says with a chuckle, eyes flickering with a momentary shadow. But it's gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his easy charm. "Let's just say they have certain expectations."
"Well, then maybe we have more in common than I thought," I say, softening.
"Seems that way," he murmurs, his voice softening too. There's a gentleness in his gaze now, and I feel his hands hold me just a little more securely as if he's anchoring me.
We dance like this, quietly, for a few moments, simply enjoying the music and each other's company. He spins me once, drawing a soft laugh from me, and when he pulls me back, I'm closer than I realized, his breath warm on my cheek.
"Do you think we'd have met otherwise?" he asks quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I blink, a little caught off guard by the question. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"Fate has a funny way of working, doesn't it?" He's still holding me close, his gaze warm and thoughtful, and I feel the world fade away a little as we look at each other.
"It does," I reply, almost breathless, my heart pounding in my chest.
He's quiet for a moment, his eyes glimmering with something I couldn't place. "I hope—I hope fate lets us meet again."
For a moment, I forget about the ballroom, about my father's rules, about everything except him. I don't know who he is, or why he's here, but something about him feels achingly familiar, like we're old friends, like I've known him in some other life.
When the music fades, he slowly lets me go, and I feel the loss of his warmth, his presence. He steps back, bowing with a playful, courtly gesture.
I scoff a laugh and give my best attempt at a curtsy. "You're a natural," He muses as the music dies down and I sidle closer to the balcony, eager to look out at the world beyond that I had never witnessed before.
The balcony feels almost timeless as we stand there, his presence beside me grounding in a way I hadn't expected. We talk as if there are no constraints, just the night around us, a quiet space carved out in the world. His words flow easily, a mix of humor and teasing, sometimes dipping into moments of gentleness that make my chest tighten.
I can't help but keep stealing glances at him, trying to memorize the sharp line of his jaw and the warm, playful gleam in his eyes. And every time I meet that gaze, I feel the strange, unshakable familiarity tugging at me—a whisper in the back of my mind that insists I know him, that maybe I've known him far longer than this one night. But I can't let myself get swept away in that feeling. Not yet.
We talk for hours about anything and everything, I tell him about the flowers below us, and what they symbolize, and in return, he tells me of the stars in the sky, the constellations, and each of their names.
We talked about things that I never voiced before, but there was a steady comfort in his presence that made me feel like I could confess even my deepest mistakes and he'd nod with understanding in his eyes, not a flicker of judgment.
We didn't go into the ballroom the entire night, had taken up the small seating area that curved around the side of the building I hadn't noticed before.
"So, princess," he says, smirking as he leans his back into his chair, arms folded in a lazy, practiced ease, "if you weren't here, what kind of trouble would you be getting yourself into?"
I think for a moment, letting my fingers graze the ivy-covered stone. "Trouble? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I'm sure you don't." He smirks, an amused glint in his eyes. "I pegged you for the rebellious type the moment I set eyes on you." He goes on.
I shrug, glancing out over the shadowed garden below. "Well, clearly you don't know me very well," I reply in a snarky tone, my lips curling into a teasing smile. "Perhaps I'm a perfectly obedient daughter who follows all the rules."
His laugh is low and rich, sending a pleasant shiver through me. "Now, I find that hard to believe," he murmurs, tilting his head to meet my gaze. "A wildflower like you, growing in a gilded cage? No, I think you're meant to be out there—" he gestures to the dark mountains beyond the garden, "—living on your own terms."
My cheeks warm under his gaze, but I lift my chin. "And you? What about you, oh wise stranger? Surely you're not the type to follow anyone's rules but your own."
"Oh, I'd follow them," he says, his voice dropping to a playful murmur, "if you were the one making them."
I feel my face flush at his words, but I can't resist matching his grin. "Be careful what you wish for. I'd hate to ruin that roguish charm with a few boundaries."
"Boundaries?" He raises an eyebrow, laughing. "I don't believe you’re the kind of girl to put them in place, life's far more interesting without them, don't you think?" He cocks his head in an all too demeaning fashion, as if he knows me better than to even suggest such a thing. I can’t help but smile at the familiarity, of being truly seen and known, it was foreign, but welcomed. “More than you know,” I reply, a softer atmosphere taking over with the tenderness in my voice.
"So, what does someone like you dream of seeing?"
It's a simple enough question, but I find myself hesitating, surprised by how much I want to answer, how easy it feels to open up to him. "I want to see everything," I admit, my voice almost a whisper. "Every corner of the world. The mountains, the seas. I want to taste the air in different places and feel the ground under my feet where no one else has walked. I want to be free."
It's more than I've ever shared with anyone, especially someone who doesn't even know my name. I swallow, feeling suddenly vulnerable, but when I glance at him, his gaze is warm, and understanding. As if he knows exactly what I mean.
"I think freedom suits you," he says softly like he's revealing a secret. "It's in your eyes—the way they look past this place, like you're already somewhere else entirely."
His words send a shiver through me, and for a moment, I can't find any words at all. So instead, I look away, watching as the sky shifts from deep indigo to a paler shade, hinting at the dawn. "Maybe one day I'll get to see it all," I say, more to myself than to him.
"I have a feeling you will." His voice is quiet, almost wistful, and I glance back to find him watching me with that same, unsettling familiarity, as if he, too, feels this strange pull between us.
We fall into an easy silence after that, leaning against the railing side by side as the stars start to fade. Occasionally, he says something that makes me laugh, and I find myself telling him things I'd never tell anyone else—about the books I love, the dreams I've buried, the way I crave a life that's different from the one set out for me.
He listens, really listens, his attention never wavering. And in return, he shares pieces of himself, though I sense he's careful, holding back just as much as I am. He speaks of a family that has expectations, a life lived beneath a weight that isn't always visible. I don't pry, but I nod, letting him know I understand.
The sky lightens, a faint glow spreading over the horizon, and I can't help but feel a pang of regret as the world around us starts to wake.
"You know," he murmurs, his voice low, "I think this might be one of the best conversations I've ever had."
I laugh softly, though my heart aches a little at the thought of this night ending. "You don't get many opportunities to talk with strangers on balconies?"
"Not like this," he says, glancing down at me, his expression unreadable. "Not with someone like you."
There's something so earnest in his gaze that I feel my resolve waver. I want to tell him who I am, to share every piece of myself, but a part of me resists, clinging to this fleeting anonymity.
"Thank you," I say softly, and I mean it more than he could ever know.
"For what?" he asks, his tone warm.
"For reminding me that people can be kind. That they can listen." I smile up at him, feeling a strange mixture of sadness and hope. "I think I needed that."
The first light of dawn glimmers on the horizon, casting a soft glow over the garden. Slowly, he reaches out, taking my hand in his, his touch warm and steady. I feel his thumb brush gently over my knuckles, and it sends a wave of warmth through me, a silent promise in his touch.
"Maybe one day," he says softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll meet again. Maybe fate will give us that."
I can't bring myself to say anything, so I simply nod, letting myself savor the feel of his hand in mine for just a moment longer.
As the first rays of sunlight touch the garden below, he releases my hand, stepping back with a soft smile. He gives me one last, lingering look before turning, disappearing through the terrace doors and back into the world from which he came.
I stay there, watching as the light fills the sky, feeling like I've lost something precious and found something rare all at once.
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Text
I just had a talk with my thesis supervisor and I want to check something real quick.
I want to write my bachelor's thesis about fanficion and AI - specifically about fanfiction writers' attitude towards the use of generative AI in fandom spaces
The survey (and the rest of the thesis) is still v much in the making, I just want to check how many potential responders I could reach from this account
Pls reblog after voting
What I can say about the survey for now:
1. The survey will be anonymous!
2. The survey will be in English (but the rest of my thesis will not. I am however required to write an abstract in English)
3. My supervisor said it's fine if I want to focus on one fandom - In this case it will be the HP fandom. However I would like to include as many reposnes as I can, so it will probably not be a requirement to be in the HP fandom.
4. You don't need to write fanfiction to take part in the survey (but there will be a question if you read and/or write fanfics). You need to be in the fandom though
5. You need to be over 18 (most likely)
I want to keep myself anonymous as well so there is a possibility I will have to make a separate sideblog/account for it.
If anyone will be interested in the results, for some reason - I am required to write the abstract in English, so I might share the abstract. Maybe. More info after I write anything for my thesis.
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utterlyotterlyx · 9 months ago
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Can I request something where Azriel has to pick up Nyx from school one day and thinks his teacher is cute & is very flirty with her?
Yes! Love this idea so much!
When I Kissed The Teacher
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - Feyre loves Nyx's teacher but loves playing matchmaker even more. After sending Azriel to collect Nyx from school one day after feigning a studio related emergency, she's very happy to learn that Azriel's affections are completely in the palm of your hand.
Warnings - none really, just cuteness all round
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Feyre had always been worried about sending Nyx off to school, even though she believed Rhys when he told her that the schools of Velaris were the best in Prythian, she couldn't help but feel anxious that he wouldn't thrive.
Then she met you, and all of her worries faded away.
You were everything Feyre wanted in a teacher for her child, it had taken a lot of weight throwing to get him into your class, it was full to the brim of children from higher born families, only wanting the best for their offspring. Feyre wasn't even surprised.
It was clear how much you cared about your children, in nurturing them into intelligently creative creatures. Other teachers focused solely on the academics, but you had a passion for the arts, you said creativity helped children to find their passions and grow into more compassionate and joyful souls.
Nyx had run into her arms when she had come to collect him that first day, babbling on about what a wonderful time he had with you. Miss Y/L/N. Feyre had never seen such wonderment in his eyes when he told her in that broken infant language how great you were. Everyone's worries about Nyx becoming a shell had vanished.
The little thing had returned home with paintings, reciting poetry from your favourite passages; he had the desire to read, making different voices for the different characters like he had learned from you. Nyx was well and truly flourishing.
Feyre had insisted that you walk home with them one afternoon, since you only lived five minutes from the River House and it was on your route home anyway. From that walk, Feyre had learned much about you, that you were from Spring but left after being disowned by your family for wanting more from life than being married away to be used as a breeding tool. After that you had travelled the continent, making many friends along the way and opening your mind to the world before settling in Hewn City, only to be brought to Velaris on Rhys' orders because he had heard of your talents and passion and wanted it taking root in the children of his city.
The more you spoke, rambling on about art and books and theatre, did Feyre come to the realisation that a certain someone would be absolutely besotted with you. When you had hugged Nyx goodbye, ruffling his hair and telling him you'd see him in the morning, did Feyre begin to hatch her plan.
Azriel wasn't one for sunshine and rainbows, but even he had to admit that Nyx's and Feyre's gushings about you had him intrigued, even Rhys had commented on how sweet you were, seemingly very fond of how Nyx was excelling under your wing.
"Az, would you mind grabbing Nyx today? I have to head to the studio, delivery emergency," Feyre floated past him toward the door, a thin cloak fitted around her shoulders to protect her from the afternoon summer breeze that drifted along the Sidra.
"Uh, yeah. Sure," he waved Feyre from the house as she dashed down the path shouting over her shoulder what time to be at the school for.
The sun was beginning to dip in the sky but warmth still flew through Velaris, Azriel walked along the winding paths and up the hill to the school, the skittering sound of children's laughter filling his ears as he approached. Parents parted as he walked down the cobbled stone path, not wanting to graze against his wings with slight unease in their eyes. Azriel was used to it by now, the looks of disapproval, the slight fear in the people he passed.
The bell rang and birds shot to perch on the branches of the trees that surrounded the plush gardens teeming with bright flowers and wildlife. Children began to file out from the open door, grabbing their bags and running to their parents with wide smiles, excited to tell them what you had taught them that day.
Azriel spied the inside wall littered will paintings and cards, all addressed to you, as well as a wooden table filled with the gifts the children had no doubt made their parents purchase for you.
Then he saw you, and the Shadowsinger audibly gasped. There you were, dressed in a loose white blouse with stringed corset, an earthy brown skirt that fell to the floor covered in colourful handprints that reached your thighs, your hair was unbound and baby hairs whispered along the sides of your face.
You were sunshine. You were radiant.
Nyx's hand was curled in your own as you led him out of the classroom and Azriel could have sworn he'd never seen a brighter look on anyone's face as the little man searched the crowd, "Uncle, Az!"
Your gaze had also fallen on him and you drank in his smile as Nyx left your grip and hurtled to the Shadowsinger, his grin was large, showing off all of his teeth as he bent down and wrapped Nyx in his toned arms, laughing loudly and asking about his day before standing up.
"I don't think we've ever formally met," you held your free hand out, your other carrying Nyx's bag, "I'm Y/N, well, Miss Y/L/N."
You were as soft as summer rain, adoration in your orbs, and you radiated purity and grace. Azriel glanced at your outstretched hand, sliding his own into it and feeling a force of gravity will him closer to you, "So you're the one that has Nyx ready for school at the crack of dawn," he felt relief when you didn't recoil at his hand in yours, the hands that usually made people grimace, "Azriel," you giggled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your pointed ear.
High Fae.
"Guilty as charged," your voice was like butter, smooth and rich, the perfect balance of femineity.
"Can't say I blame him," he smirked at the heat that rose to his cheeks, at the sheepish smile that tugged at your lips.
"That's very nice of you to say," one of your students walked past you, waving goodbye, and Azriel watched you bend down and fix her jacket to her body, telling her to have a lovely weekend in the sun, "Nyx has had a lovely day today. He just keeps on flourishing, it's remarkable," you had told him once you had risen again.
"I'm sure anyone could flourish with you around. Must be the Y/N effect," he cocked his head to the side at your giggle, just happy to be able to examine the woman who had Nyx all excited every morning. Feyre and Rhys were right, you were remarkable. Like a rainbow rippling in a storm.
"Must be it," the birds jumped from branch to branch around you, like they wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as possible, flitting to the bird houses you had erected by the pond of ducks and in the trees.
"Would you like to walk home with us? Feyre mentioned that you didn't live too far from the house?"
Your mouth fell into the perfect o shape, "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose-"
"You're not," Azriel smiled, looking down at Nyx, shaking his little hand and asking, "Is she, Nyx? Would you like Miss Y/L/N to walk home with us?"
"Yes!" Nyx shouted and you laughed, a laugh that made the edges of your eyes crinkle, you disappeared into the building, returning a few moments later with you satchel, locking the door and taking Nyx's free hand in your own after handing his bag to Azriel.
Azriel was positive that he'd never seen Nyx shine so brightly.
The walk home was full of light chatter, you made Azriel laugh more times than you could count, and Nyx was pointing out random things along the way, looking up at you for approval and tapping his feet on the ground when you nodded and smiled.
From the house, Feyre watched through the curtains as Nyx ran up the path, and kept watching as Azriel lingered behind, she wished she could hear what he was saying to you. But as you smiled, and blushed, and then nodded at the Shadowsinger who was kicking his feet like a schoolboy, she knew it was going well.
Strong arms wrapped around her midsection and her back hit a hard chest, his deep chuckle vibrated through him and his warm breath fanned against her ear, "Playing matchmaker again, darling?"
Feyre hummed with a gentle smile, accepting the peppering kisses over her shoulder as she watched you walk away, looking back at Azriel and waving before turning the corner, "I think this is my best one yet," she told Rhys, noticing the pursed smile on Azriel's lips and the faint pink tinge to his complexion as he followed Nyx up the path.
"I'm inclined to agree."
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SO CUTE!
Thank you for the request! x
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turtledovenycx · 1 year ago
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Work Pressure (B.C)
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🎧The Neighbourhood - Sweater Weather
“No, you don’t understand,” he said his cool fingers finding your warm skin and raising goosebumps. “I missed you, I missed being close to you.” 
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧��: 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧
𝐭𝐚𝐠: 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧! , 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭🔞
𝐖.𝐂 𝟑.𝟐𝐤
ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅɴɪ
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈'𝐦 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲), 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐨𝐛, (𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯) 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐩 𝐢𝐭), 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐍𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱. (𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐭𝐡𝐧.)
_
Soft tunes could be heard despite Chan wearing headphones. It was past working hours at the JYPE building, the only people left putting in some extra hours of practice, production, or the cleaning crew for the night. Worried your boyfriend would skip his dinner for the nth time you had shown up with dishes from his favorite place - you reckoned he deserved a treat after working so hard for days. 
After the man was well-fed and rested his eyes with a power nap on your lap he wanted to get back to work. 
“Is it gonna take long baby?” you had asked, settling down on the sofa, his jacket as blanket knowing you might be in for a long night. 
“An hour or so love…. I’m sorry but I have to finish this.” 
“It's okay, I might do some work too later but I’ll just chill here if that’s alright.”
“Don’t wanna go home?” he asked getting up from your lap, leaning to kiss you before he adjusted his jacket on you. 
“I’ll be alone,” you said he kissed your forehead before going back to his system, sitting down he glanced at you once before putting his headphones on partially covering one ear in case you needed something. 
.
It has been two hours almost, you had fallen asleep in the initial 45 minutes waking to see Chan slumped over, his shoulders looking like they hurt, staring at his computer as the lines kept moving, the glare from the screen painted his face in blues. The only source of light was from his desktop. Chan had barely moved from that position except to turn the lights off to let you sleep, and you felt bad. 
He did not register you getting off the couch and stretching, so he was startled when you touched his shoulder. His palms fly to overlap yours, 
“You scared me,” he said taking the headphones off,  neck resting on the headrest as he looked up at you. 
“It's been two hours.” you reminded him running your fingers through his curls before massaging his forehead and temples. Chan hummed the throbbing pain in his head subsiding from your fingers. You massaged his head, his sinuses finally working your way to the knot on his neck his head fell forward a groan falling out of his lips.
“How about we stop? Hmm?” you asked as he pulled you to stand in front of him, your hands still on his shoulders. 
“I need to get this done.” he sadly voiced head leaning forward to rest on your tummy as you ran your fingers through his hair he hugged your lower half sighing. This week was tough there was too much to do. Chan just wanted to sleep without worrying in his bed in the arms of his girlfriend. 
A few frustrated tears left his eyes and your eyebrows furrowed in worry. 
“Baby?” you asked holding his face, he closed his eyes not willing to see you yet, but his actions were contradictory as he pulled you into his lap. A gasp left you but you recovered, palms holding his face as he cried. Salty tears stained your necks and shoulders as Chan let out quiet sobs. 
You just let him cry, he needed it but it broke you to see him hurt. This man carried his job and responsibilities on his broad shoulder but wore his heart on his sleeves. 
“I...I am so sorry. I’m sorry…. Sorry.” he repeated and you were beyond confused, slowly you coaxed his face from your neck to look at you, his eyes opened.
“Why are you apologising?” you asked wiping off his tears and cradling his face, he sniffed and you grabbed a tissue for him. After he caught his breath you kissed his forehead, his red nose his cheeks his eyes. The dark eye bags were prominent and you hoped your kisses would ease his fatigue. 
“Don’t say sorry baby. Talk to me,” you asked holding his face as he wrapped his hands around your waist. 
“I’m such a shitty boyfriend. I can’t even finish one track and I’m scared. I’m letting the team down.” His eyes were downcast as he spoke.
“What no..” you tried but he shook his head. 
“It’s too much, I can’t make it past this one verse. Nothing is perfect, and I was too harsh on Jisung today. He got so mad and left. I’m tired y/n. And I’m troubling you.”
“Wait, troubling me?” 
He nodded opting to hide his face in your neck, “You're alone at home, you are sleeping on my studio couch you deserve better baby. I’m so so-”
“Don't you dare say sorry again Bang Christopher Chan ” you unintentionally raised your voice. At the mention of his full name, he stiffened.
“I know it's been a tough week for you. But don't for a second think that you have been anything but the best boyfriend. Channie, you are tired and you’re frustrated and you made some mistakes. But you are still trying and putting in the work. You have a lot on your mind and you just need a break baby.”
“But I-”
“Ssh…. all of you are tired and overworked. It's probably why Jisung reacted that way, he still loves his Channie hyung. He is the one who texted me telling me you had a bad day that's why I came to cheer you up, I fell asleep because I had an early start today that’s all.”
He hummed hugging you as you spoke in hushed whispers. 
“Chris, baby I need you to know something. Yes, I am alone at home on some days and it does hurt me but I will never hold that against you, I love you and your work. I’m so proud of you baby you still work like a dog even after reaching so many people with your music, you’re consistent, hard-working, and fucking dedicated. I love that about you, don’t ever think that you are a burden to me. I would gladly spend days on this couch if it means I can spend my time with you. I’m worried I might disturb you!"
“No, no you made my day,” he said wiping tears.
“Then you have to believe that seeing you makes my day too. Even if I have to sleep on a couch. I don't mind it I love sleeping on the couch it's so comfy actually. Oof that Spotify dust-covered pillow don’t you just love the smell of dust,” you joked hoping to get a smile out of him. It did, his tired face broke into a smile, a small laugh escaping his lips. 
“So don’t you ever tell nonsense like that, tell that stupid voice in your brains to shush. You are doing so well. I’m really proud of you.”
“I love you.” he breathes into your neck.
“I love you,” you emphasize with a kiss on his cheek. Then without stopping, you placed loud kisses around his face, mwah mwah mwah! 
He giggled before begging you to stop 'okay okay okay... Okay, stop.' You pulled away to look at him, worn out he was still so handsome and you missed this, you missed him so much. Chan did too which he expressed by pulling you in for a long kiss. His lips were dry, you wet with your saliva as they moulded with each other, you held his face leading the kiss palm holding his cheeks. He lazily licked your lips before you parted yours to let his wet muscle into your mouth. The kiss was heating up, softly still. He detached and reattached your mouths. Again and again and again and without thinking a small moan slipped passed his mouth. 
“Sorry,” he gasped when you pulled away. You pulled his face back and bit his bottom lip it didn't hurt he felt a sharp sting. “What did I tell you about apologising Chris?” you questioned hands gripping his hair and pulling his head back
“Mm.” he groaned as your lips found the column of his neck. “Don’t apologies.” you say as you bite his neck.
“I miss you,” Chan said tongue tracing behind your ear before his teeth grazed it, drawing a whimper out of you. “I miss you too,” you say his hand began to wander further, from your shoulders to your waist as they raised the hem of your sweater wanting to feel your skin slipping his big palms in. 
“No, you don’t understand,” he said his cool fingers finding your warm skin and raising goosebumps.
“I missed you, I missed being close to you.” 
“Haa..ah Chriss.’ you whined as he traced along your back simultaneously creating love bites.
“Me too,” you whispered lips finding his. Your sweater moved up as it got lodged on his forearms. This kiss was less comforting, it was more of an ‘I miss you’ passionate kiss, he held your hair to angle your head to his liking, you melting at the touch as his tongue traced patterns in your mouth.  
“Mm I want you princess..” he whispered onto your lips as his hands adjusted your thighs so that you were properly straddling his lap, you could feel his hardening cock through his pants. 
“Here?” you questioned, both of you satisfying each other regardless of the time and place was not something foreign but in his company where someone might walk in, it was unprofessional and would cause a lot of problems for him. 
“Please.” he pleaded, his hands now under your outfit palms inching towards your breast
“Please…” he emphasized as he squeezed your breasts over your bra, being touch starved you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. 
“Someone might hear us..” you say hands in his hair as he begins to grind up into you.
“Recording room,” he said breaking the kiss as the two of you looked at the overly huge sunglass thingy inside the soundproofed room with a glass window. You looked back at Chan who looked like he would almost cry- for different reasons this time. 
“Fuck.. okay.” you had barely finished speaking when Chan rose from the chair holding you. 
“Chri-is” you gasp as he hiked you higher holding your thighs and plush lips sucking where your neck meets your shoulder you moved your head away inviting him to kiss and bite more. 
Somehow, he managed to open the door and plop you down before he turned to close it, propping a chair on the knob. It was dark as none of you bothered to turn the lights on. Chan reached for the switch but you stopped him. 
“No lights please,” you begged kissing his swollen lips before moving down his neck careful not to mark his skin for PR reasons. 
“But, I want to see yo- ah” he moaned as you began to palm his dick. 
His mind blanked completely forgetting about the light switch as his back hit the wall. You dropped to your knees in front of him working on the ties of his sweatpants before pulling them down to release his aching dick. He was fully hard now, the shaft hot and heavy as you held him in your palms, stroking softly. Chan was groaning, sensitive from not being released in days. His fingers found their way into your hair as you placed soft kisses and licks from his tip to his balls. 
“Mmph.. baby. I-” his sentence cut off as you took his tip into your mouth, tongue licking over his slit tasting his precum. You sucked diligently on his tip for a few seconds. Chan moaned as you forced yourself to take more of him into your mouth. Pulling away to catch a breath before pushing yourself to accommodate his length. You gagged tears spring to your eyes as you felt him graze the skin at the back of your mouth. 
“Ah …. Ah… ah” Chan was a mess, fingers holding onto your ponytail as he slowly fucked your face. You began bobbing your head up and down and he tightened his grip on your head all politeness leaving him as he was desperate to finish. Your jaw began to hurt but he deserved a release so you hollowed your cheeks, past the sting as you sucked him dry. He came with a broken moan, his release hitting the back of your throat. You pulled off his dick and swallowed the mess to which he tsked. 
“Baby… you didn’t have to swallow,” he said between gasps. “It's okay I wanted to.” he helped you onto your feet, attacking your mouth he could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned at the flavour and his hands once again found the skin of your back, unclasping your bra. You gripped at his black t-shirt as he made work of your sweater, removing it and throwing it on the floor. 
Your bra unhooked but Chan did not even bother removing it before he placed his lips on your right nipple, he was on his knees now one hand kneading your breast as he sucked on the other one.
“Aah, Chris… Channie..” you kept crying as soft as you could as he bit and marked the skin of your breast, fingers unzipping your shorts and feeling their way to your mound. 
Your knees buckled and Chan pulled you onto his lap once again, he sat on his knees your thighs straddling his once again. He could feel your wetness through your panties as his fingers pushed them to the side to touch you. He palmed your pussy before playing with your clit, you jerking at that, he had to hold you down. You could not keep quiet biting the back of your palm as Chan’s fingers entered your hole. You tried to pull away his hands and mouth everywhere at once but Chan roughly pulled you into him.
“Don’t. Pull. Away” he said fingers moving at an awkward angle. He looked over your shoulders to see your clothes on the floor stopping his fingers. He pulled away and placed you on the floor delicately before moving to move your sweater and removing his shirt to make a makeshift blanket on the floor. Though it was carpeted. He picked you up before gently placing you down on top of the garments. 
He plopped himself between your legs, throwing your shorts beneath the two of you. Lips finding each other. Moans and whimpers echoed in the room as you held onto each other tighter desperately grinding against one another. He gripped his cock out from its confines and tore open a condom, the only cloth left on his body was his sweats. After sheathing himself he slowly traced your pussy lips. 
Your body jerked, “Channie please..” 
“Please what pretty?” he teased your old chan slowly returning. You smiled before your mouth formed an o, hips stuttering as Chan spread your lips, grazing your clit with his member. He licked his fingers using them to wet your pussy thoroughly stimulating your wetness to produce in ample amounts. He slowly pushed in just the tip, a sigh leaving his lip.
“Aah..” your back rose from the floor as Chan slowly ground into you, ‘You felt so warm so so slippery fuck he had missed this so much.’ 
Your arms found solace behind his neck playing with the hair while Chan held his body weight on one arm, his other grabbing your face to kiss you dirty and deep, teeth clashing and spit exchanging. The sounds muffled as the two of you breathed into each other's mouths. He had begun to pull away to the tip before pushing back in. Repeating the action as your mind grew dumb. A loud moan broke through the room as he found a comfortable pace to thrust. Just then a beep was heard and the main door to the studio opened. Your eyes widened as Chan slapped his hand on your mouth. He stopped thrusting but grinded slowly not to lose the momentum. You both were huddled on the floor near the wall out of the vision line. But still your heart began to beat faster. The janitor was simply checking whether the studio had vacated, but he saw Chan’s bag and jacket in the room. After a few moments, he left thinking Chan had gone on break. Your whimpers were muffled by his hands as he breathed in relief at the sound of the door closing and locking automatically. His hip still moving slowly you felt his pubic bone rubbing against your clit with each jerk. Chan removed his hand to see you drool a bit 
“See, I told you it was a bad id- Chris!” he snapped his hips fast you screamed but it was in a soundproof room. “Fuck baby, so wet for me.. aah I missed this... Missed-mph so much. Your cunt is so warm…. So warm.” he nudged your gooey spot and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer. Chan now thrust into your hole, fast and deep licking his index and middle finger before bringing it to draw on your clitoris. He drew mindless shapes on the swollen bud as he groaned into the skin of your neck biting your shoulders. Because of all the movement, his pants too slipped off his frame near his feet. 
Your nails dug into his skin as the two of you lost yourselves in each other. “Baby, I’m so close, are you? I wanna... Ah fuck.. I wanna cum with you..” he voiced breathing ragged as he kissed your plump lips. 
You could only manage babbles “Yeah..ah.. So- bi..ig cha- aah” 
He took your nipple into his mouth and your back arched pushing your breasts into his face. 
“Chan.. Chris I’m I’m cumming..” you breathed words cut off by moans. 
“God... fuck princess me too.” as the second orgasm for Chan washed over that night you moaned carelessly knowing well only he could hear it. He jerked his hips a few times before emptying completely into the rubber and falling onto your body. His whole weight felt comforting to you, like a heavy warm blanket. He was still inside you as the two of you caught your breath.
_
The source of light from his desktop had dimmed long ago but the window was open and soft moonlight made your vision visible. Chan moved his body to hover over yours again. You were still in a blissed-out state. 
“You okay?” he asked softly pulling out, his nose nudging your face before he placed a soft kiss on your jaw.
“I’m okay.” you say taking his face in your hands again, “you?”
“I’m better, sweetheart. I needed this,” he says, kissing you once more before getting off the floor. Chan disposed of the condom and checked whether the coast was clear before moving the chair blocking the door. Tightening his pants he walked out of the recording room shirtless and rummaged around his table. You sat up once he returned with a tissue box and some water. 
“Thank you.” you finish gulping the water before moving onto your feet. Your sweater was stained with your release Chris apologetically handed it to you. You did not mind reassuring him with a peck on his cheek and grabbing the rest of your innerwear and putting them on. Thankfully your shorts and his T-shirt were clean. 
Stepping out of the record room he turned on the dim light, you grabbed his jacket to cover your upper body, the outfit big for your frame. Chan clad in his t-shirt hugs you from behind as you are zipping it up. 
You looked at him to kiss his cheek. 
“Let’s go home,” you say placing your hands on his. 
“I have to finish this babe.” he calmly said. Before you could protest your boyfriend lifted you off the ground and he sat back down on his chair you on his thighs. 
“Don't worry, I’ll just record a sample and we can go. I’ll do the rest with Jisung soon.” he did, and you applauded his stamina with a kiss before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He worked on with you sleeping peacefully in his lap even when he sang into the mic. His mind felt clearer and he finished the job within an hour. 
“Done,” he said looking down to see you fast asleep, gripping onto his t-shirt. He checked his phone after packing his things into his bag on the ground still not waking you up.
There were notifications from Han which read, ‘Hyung, I’m sorry. I’ll work harder tomorrow. Fried chicken on me?’ he felt the last of his worries vanish knowing that the younger was not mad at him. He shot a quick reply with lots of hearts and gently woke you up. 
“Baby? Let’s go home.” 
_
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𝘋𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦. 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘤𝘹 ©
𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝
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A/N: What would I give to love this man like this. Hope you enjoy this
tags 🏷️: @comet-falls
note: Hi love it's _🪽anon, Blog reveal haha. I hope you enjoy this. Let's be moots? (If that is alright). If you loved this fic do check out my other works too, I would love to get some tips from you as you are one of the authors I look up to.
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thecosmiccrow · 8 months ago
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GANG SHES FUCKIN HERE FINALLY IVE HAD THIS SHIT STORED FOR SO LONG
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AUUGHHH I HAVE LIKE JUST THIS SMALL ASS CHAPTER BUT WHO CARES
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azziesbattybaddie · 2 months ago
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Lady in red
Kinktober day 1 - First time/blood play
Vamp!Rhysand x reader
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Rhys is always carful with you and absolutely never drinks from you, but when you finally decided to spend your first night together Rhys has some trouble controlling his hunger for you.
Word count: 1.2k
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Requested: no
Warnings: smut(obviously), P in V, no protection(wrap it before you tap it guys), blood play, language, insinuated oral F receiving, vampire Rhysand(he is his own warning)
Content: 🔥
Author's note: so I've decided that I will be participating in kinktober this year but make it solely Acotar. This is day 1 so I'm super excited to start this year! Enjoy!
AN #2: oh look at that I'm already late posting, fyi I am in the middle of moving right now so if I miss a day or Im late posting I apologize but Imma try my best.
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"you always look beautiful, y/n darling, but cauldron do you look absolutely radiant right now..."
Rhys stood at the doorway his hand nestled in his pockets as he leaned on the frame and simply admired your barley covered figure. You had waited for him upstairs laying under the sheets naked and waiting. you were still a virgin and you wanted your first time to be special so you decided to wait until you were really feeling the mood.
You had went with Rhys and his brothers to the gym today which is the reason you decided that tonight would be the night after seeing your boyfriend shirtless and dripping sweat as he sparred with his younger brother. The whole day you couldn't keep your mind off of wanting to lick your way from his distinct V-line to his neck. Obviously you hadn't realized that being immortal, means extended stamina and shit if I wasn't hot as fuck seeing Rhys keep moving for so damn long.
You laid under the thin sheets of your boyfriend's bed, laying bare as you waited for him to cross the room. He stalked forward as his eyes looked down your barley covered form as if he could see straight through the thin material. You leaned back on your hands and pushed your chest out with false confidence as the white fabric fell away from your chest.
Rhysand's eyes darked and stared at your exposed breasts and before taking a deep breath, dragging his eyes up to yours and lifting a knee to the bed as he crawled to you, his large frame coming to hover over you.
"as much as I want to absolutely devour you at the moment," he took a deep breath and closed his eyes taking a large inhale through his nose. "I haven't eaten in a few days and the last thing I want to do is lose control with you..."
Even though he was trying to talk himself out of taking you right then and there his body betrayed him. His hands found your waist, pulling the sheet down you expose more of your body to him. His eyes roamed over you as if he were thinking of all the things he wanted to to to you before twining his hand in the back of your hair and pulling your lips to his. His mouth was hot on yours and he pulled your body up to straddle his kneeling thighs, your lips still tangled with his. His scent filled your nose. He smells like old books and spices and leather.
"Rhys please, I trust you." You wrap your arms around his neck and grind yourself down on his lap desperately. Rhys growls as he looks down at your naked self. Gripping your waist as he guides your hips to rock against him again. The zipper of his pants, strained against his hardening cock, rubs deliciously against your clit.
You rake your hands down his chest and start trying to tear at his buttons. As soon as the honey tan skin of his stomach is revealed you shove him onto his back lightly and straddle his hips properly. You lean over him and cup his face in both hands before kissing him as tenderly as you can.
"I trust you..." You innunciante each word in hopes of convincing him to take your and stop worrying about his control. You felt his hands run up your skin and settle on your waist before your flipped on your back at an inhuman speed that made your head spin. You felt it before you registered what he had done exactly but you felt the head of him running over your slit gently.
"Look at me, darling I need you to promise me that if it hurts your going to tell me. Do you understand?" You nod your head furiously as your eyes are locked on the top of his cock barely dipping into your heat before returning. You felt like you were on fire watching but a hand gripped your chin firmly and tilted your head up to meet purple eyes. "Words, my love. I need you to use your words. Do you understand?"
"Yes Rhys, I understand ah-" you were cut off, barely getting the words out before you felt him start to sink into you. He buried his face in your neck and you felt the tiniest pricks of something sharp as he left open mouthed kisses in his wake, trying to distract you from any discomfort.
You bury your fingers in his hair tussling the locks and you feel him scratching you out. It bordered on pain but it felt so good at the same time that you hardly noticed. After a moment he bottomed out with a growl and withdrew himself before burying himself to the hilt again and licking a stripe from the valley of your breasts to your ear, nibbling on the lobe.
Rhys could feel and hear your heartbeat start to thunder in your veins and he picked up the pace. You could feel him, running your hands over his tense muscles as he thrusted unto you at a fast but gentle pace. You lock your ankles behind his back and arch your chest into him as he starts to hit a new angle.
You were lost in him. His smell, the feel of his skin, just the feel of him, it was all too much and not enough at the same time. You were begging for him too keep going, every thrust of his cock set fire to you body and you could feel a somewhat familiar burn starting to consume your stomach. That tugging in your abdomen every time the ridge of his cock rubbed against your clit as he pulled out to the top only to sink in again was maddening.
You were starting to teater on the edge your orgasm approaching at a startling pace. You tried to rock your hips against his, the bedframe creaking from your effort. The feeling of fire burning it's way through you was about to burst and you heard rhys mutter a curse to himself before a sharp pain radiated in the side of your neck. He pushed your hips down on the bed so he could drill into you as his fangs sank deep into your soft flesh, the taste of salt and sweet copper flooding his mouth as he let out a sinful groan at the taste.
"Ah- Rhys!" Yelling his name out as you came hard around him, the sickly sweet burn of his teeth in your neck throwing you head first over the edge. Rhys let your ride out your high for a few minutes before lapping at your neck to get the bleeding to stop and pulling his still rock hard cock out from you. He looked down as he did seeing a small trail of blood lacing his shaft.
"Rhys why did you stop, you didn't eve-" you didn't finish your sentence as he quickly kissed his way down your body and settled himself with his head between your legs.
"If you think I'm going to waste this little treat or that I even close to done with you tonight, than you are very much mistaken..."
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divinemare · 9 months ago
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Nyx, on the phone: Remember how I said Blaze and I were going to have a calm night out for once?
Demetria (OC): Yes.
Nyx: Well, we’re in jail.
Demetria: *hangs up*
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enigmatic-mystery-777 · 25 days ago
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Valiant Effort
It's time to celebrate Halloween! What better way than a Halloween party! You and Daniel are given the task of baking cookies for the event...but neither of you know how to actually bake. The two of you bond as you try to navigate the pitfalls of baking.
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Taglist: @residentdemonhunter @systemadministratorclu @mrssci-fi-nerd-sg-1 @stargaterevival @cuillere @daydreampending @phantom-of-grace @riverageleis
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shadowdaddies · 9 months ago
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I have a request! Reader accidentally hurts themself in an embarrassing way and Rhys/cass/az(idc which one) sees the injury(bruise, cut, etc) and freaks out asking “who did this??” And reader has to awkwardly admit that they did it.
Idk if that makes sense but I thought it was a cute idea for a drabble and I really like your writing 🥰 Feel free to make any changes!
thank you love!💜 I went with Cassian for this one, as a clumsy person myself this resonated with me lol
Falling for You
Cassian x Reader fluff
warnings: mentions of injury, a bit suggestive
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Lunging towards Cassian, you swung your sword in an arc, only for the wooden practice blade to hit the training mat. Cassian’s foot swiped your ankle, knocking you flat on your back as his own weapon found your throat. 
With a teasing click of his tongue, your mate smirked down at you. “I believe you yield, my love.”
Scowling, you swatted the wooden blade away, standing up to stalk over to the weapons rack, shoving your tools inside. Warm hands wrapped around your waist, Cassian smirking as he pressed a kiss to your neck. 
“Come now, sweetheart. Don’t be a sore loser,” he purred. 
With mock offense, you turned to face your mate, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll be sore if I want to be,” you retorted.
Mischief danced in hazel eyes as Cassian pulled you impossibly close, fingers tilting your chin so your nose brushed his. “Mm, but what if I offer you a massage, maybe a bath to help with that soreness?”
Butterflies erupted in your stomach, the scent of your arousal instant at his rough voice. A dark chuckle left your mate’s lips, the general giving no warning before he tossed you over his shoulder. 
“Cassian!” you yelled, swatting at him with a giggle while he carried you towards your bedroom. Your only response was a light smack on your ass, drawing another gasp as you settled in his hold.
Carrying you into the bathroom, Cassian set you down on the tile floor, directing you to undress while he moved to turn on the bath water. 
You shucked off your boots, peeling your pants and shirt off when you looked up to see Cassian staring at you, horror etched on his features. Frantically looking over your body, your eyes found Cassian’s. “What? What is it?” you questioned.
Your mate visibly swallowed, his voice thick as he gestured weakly to your leg. “Did I... did I do that?” he muttered, silver lining his eyes that bored into your skin.
You looked down to where he was pointing, finding a bruise you knew all too well, the blackish-purple skin marring a large part of your upper thigh. 
Embarrassment flooded over you, blush rising to your cheeks as you scrambled for words. You had hoped the injury would heal in time for Cassian to never know, but the way that he was looking at you right now, you needed to tell him.
Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose. “No, Cass, you didn’t do that...” you whispered. The moment those words left your lips, his demeanor changed. 
The Lord of Bloodshed stood before you, eyes alight with fury. “Who did this to you? I will make them wish they were never born,” he growled, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his misplaced wrath.
“Calm down, love. No one else did this to me. I did it myself... on accident,” you muttered, lips pursed as you avoided eye contact.
Arching a questioning brow, Cassian’s hand gripped your chin, turning you to face him. “What happened, sweetheart?” he questioned, voice soft with concern.
You paced the bathroom, stopping at the tub where you dipped your toe into the warm water. With a smirk, you stepped into the small pool. “It doesn’t really matter,” you hummed, sending a playful splash towards Cassian. “Why don’t you come join me in the bath?” you purred, arching your chest above the water in an attempt to distract him.
Your mate smirked, and you knew that you had caught him as he removed his leathers, stepping into the tub with you. Wading to where you sat, Cassian’s broad hands found your waist, his neck dipping to your shoulder.
Warm lips found your sweet spot, sucking softly on the sensitive skin there as you sighed, rolling your hips against him. Suddenly he stilled his movements, lips moving against your neck. “Where did you get that bruise from, love?”
An exaggerated sigh escaped you. “Don’t laugh at me,” you muttered, gaze turning stern when Cassian pulled back, looking at you with a bemused expression. 
“Nyx tied my shoelaces together,” you pouted, arms crossing over your chest. “And I didn’t realize it, so when I tried to walk, I tripped.” With a huff, you glanced to Cassian, the male biting his lip hard to keep from laughing.
His joy and amusement spread through the bond, forcing a smile of your own at his happiness. A small laugh escaped you at the ridiculousness of the situation, Cassian bursting with booming laughter shortly after.
Your stomach hurt, tears in your eyes from how hard you both laughed, gasping for air as you finally settled down. Cassian moved to the edge of the tub, pulling you in his lap and pressed a kiss to your hair. 
“I love you so much,” he whispered. 
Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I love you too,” you murmured. 
“Maybe we can buy you some button up shoes, something child-proof” Cassian mused, earning an elbow to the stomach as you giggled in his arms.
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siriuslystyle1989 · 4 months ago
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You're a smooth talker, fox boy.
Lucien Vanserra x Rhys sister!reader
Warnings: Drinking/alcohol consumption, kissing
Summary: After Elain rejects the mating bond, Lucien needs a drink. Y/n is bored and never turns down a drink so volunteers to go with him to Rita's.
Masterlist
Y/n had a pretty... on and off love life. Yes, she would occasionally have guys in her bed but never for very long and she hadn't had a consistent male in her life since before Amaranthas reign fell upon Prythian.
Hence her surprise when she found herself enjoying talking to none other than Lucien Vanserra. A male she had many times labelled as boring and not worth her time.
Since arriving in the night court with Feyre, Lucien had made many dire attempts to speak to his mate, Elain however, unfortunately for him, such attempts were met with nothing more than a polite smile from the girl.
And when Azriel had begun to court Elain, Lucien had practically given up all hope of ever being able to accept the bond.
This is how Y/n and Lucien Vanserra found themselves slightly tipsy in Ritas on a Saturday night.
Being a princess of the night court was all about keeping up appearances however Ritas was a place Y/n could let her hair down without worrying TOO much about prying eyes and the possibility of her brother, Rhys, walking in and seeing her in a state.
Luckily for her, he was at home with a 6-month-old baby.
"you want to go for another round of shots?" Y/n questioned the redhead, smirking slightly.
"Only if you can keep up princess." the redheaded male replied, swiping a strand of hair away from his russet eye.
Y/n looked at him as he spoke, he was truly beautiful. His auburn hair seemed to relax down his shoulders and his deep rich skin was laced with freckles.
Sitting back down ready to do their third round of shots, the two locked eyes once more.
"Cheers"
"Cheers fox boy."
At this Lucien let out a chuckle and shook his head as he downed the shot at the same time as Y/n, both of them letting out a sigh of relief as they finished.
They had been at Rita's for a few hours now but both found themselves genuinely enjoying each other's company.
"You know Y/n" Lucien began, putting down his glass and maturely opting for some water.
"I really needed this, after all the stuff with..." His voice trailed off as he looked down.
"I know" Y/n gave him a sympathetic glance.
As painful as a rejected mating bond was, Lucien knew he needed to move on.
"Thank god for alcohol."
the pair began to laugh again.
"you have a beautiful smile." Lucien voiced after a few minutes. "I promise it's not the alcohol talking."
Y/n snorted "You're not too bad yourself."
The male smiled and she watched him drum his fingers rhythmically on the wooden table.
"Anyway, I think I need to go before I get too drunk and forget my way home." Y/n spoke, placing her hand on top of Lucien's. "Thank you for tonight though, it was fun, we should come here again sometime."
Lucien smiled again, this time, however, his eyes were full of adoration.
"Let me walk you home, princess" he replied, offering her his arm.
The two wandered the streets of Velaris as they made their way to Y/n's apartment.
As they reached her door, Lucien spoke once more "Tonight was amazing"
"It was, whenever you need a drinking buddy, I'm always around." Y/n joked back.
"You looked beautiful tonight by the way."
At that, Y/n stood on her tippy toes and attached her lips to Luciens. The male clutched the side of her face gently deepening the kiss.
As they slowly parted, lips red and puffy Y/n began to laugh again as Lucien joined in.
"You're a smooth talker, fox boy."
A/n: guys thank you so much for all the love on my Azriel post!! i thought id make one on Lucien because he is my fav!!
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surielstea · 7 months ago
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Schools Out!
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.
Warnings: innuendo of having kids
1.5k words
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The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.
I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.
Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.
A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.
Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.
People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.
Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.
Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.
I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.
"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.
"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.
"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.
I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.
Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.
I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.
It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.
"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.
——
The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.
"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.
"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.
"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.
"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.
I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.
When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.
I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.
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utterlyotterlyx · 8 months ago
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When I Met The Devil
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Part Two to When I Kissed The Teacher which you can read here.
Summary - Azriel adored everything about you, but there was still certain information that you were keeping from him. Azriel finds out exactly what you've been hiding thanks to a particularly unfortunate visit.
Warnings - mentions of sexual abuse and neglect, angst, mentions of trauma
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It had been three months since Azriel had taken you on your first (of many) dates. Azriel had been so nervous, not sure where to take you that would be able to live up to your expectations, even Nyx had given him some ideas by babbling on about what made you smile in the classroom.
Apparently you loved nature, of course you did, you were from the Spring Court. So Azriel had packed up a picnic and taken you to a garden of wildflowers away from the city to watch the sunset and gaze at the stars. You had taken his breath away when you had opened the door to him, you had dressed in a loose fitting pale blue dress with white flowers embellished into the bodice, the sleeves hung off of your shoulders and your hair lay unbound down your back.
That day had been one of the best days of his life, he had gotten to know you beyond your profession and learnt so much about you, but the nagging feeling that you were omitting some truth tugged at him, but not enough for him to make a deal about it. Azriel had kissed you under the stars, he had run his fingers through your hair and kissed you so passionately that you swore the world had stopped moving just so it could watch you
Since then, you had been inseparable.
Azriel showed up at the school each day after that, sometimes in the morning at drop off or in the evening at pick up, sometimes both, and he always brought you flowers or chocolates or anything he could think of that would bring a smile to those lips. He would walk you home, but more often than not he would pull you inside the River House and force you to have dinner with them.
You never objected to his wishes, you enjoyed his hands on you far too much to say no.
Azriel was happy to take things slow with you, you were so gentle and pure, if you wanted to wait years to share a bed with him then he was okay with that. You were worth any wait.
One morning you had opened the door to the school, frowning slightly when you couldn't see Azriel or Feyre and Rhys with little Nyx waiting on the grass. They would have told you if Nyx wasn't well and needed to take the day off unless it was serious, but even then, Azriel still would have showed up on the grass with our without Nyx just to see you.
It plagued your mind all day, and you did your best to conceal your worry from the children and continue as normal, but when it came to home time and none of them were there, you knew something wasn't right.
You had locked the room up quickly and stopped by a healer to pick up some infant friendly tonics just in case Nyx needed anything, bundling the vials in your hands as you rushed down the winding streets of Velaris, allowing your feet to take you where you needed to go whilst your mind reeled with endless possibility.
Lifting the hem of your skirt as you ascended the steps of the River House, you completely missed the scent that haunted your nightmares, too frantic with worry to notice it curling around you like chains. Then you saw the back of his head, shoulder length blonde hair and broad shoulders, and then the scent hit you, one of Spring rain and lifeful earth, and you dropped the vials in your hands onto the floor, not even flinching when they broke and cut through your skin.
The thing in question turned his head to the side and sniffed, smirking with feral delight before he fully turned to you, and you saw nothing else but him and those eyes that had made you do things you didn't want to too many times, they were dark and honed in on their prey. His lips tilted upward and he rose to his feet, and you didn't hear anything anyone else was saying or commanding as he strode across the room and stopped right in front of you. You didn't dare look up, you couldn't, and then his fingers gripped your chin harshly and forced your gaze upward.
"I've been looking for you," the room held a collective breath, his shoes crunched down on the broken glass and the liquid parted under his weight.
You knew that they were all watching you, waiting for you to say something, you averted your gaze to Azriel who was on his feet, fists clenched and glowering at the male who dared to touch you, "Nyx didn't show up to school, I thought he was sick, I was bringing tonics."
Feyre rose to her feet beside Rhys, "It's okay, Y/N," her eyes were soft, she could feel your terror, they all could, and then it seemed like your secret and finally been released from the depths of your shame, "Let go of her, Tamlin."
Tamlin chuckled but didn't take his eyes off of you, he cocked his head to the side and breathed you in, "Don't tell me to take my hands off what is mine," his voice was dangerously low, possession had taken over every part of him and the wolf was coming out to play, "Isn't that right, fiancé?"
"I'm not your fiancé," tears bubbled at the corners of your eyes and Azriel saw how small Tamlin made you feel, your shoulders had curled inward, your entire body was preparing to protect itself against the male who held your head in his hands. You looked to Azriel then, "I ran. I couldn't do it," you blinked hard and your tears flowed down your cheeks.
"Just because you ran doesn't mean that the agreement is void, Flower," you cringed, you felt helpless in his grip, like all of the independence you had worked for was nothing but dust dancing in the breeze, "The Tithe has been particularly awful without you."
Azriel lost it then, he grabbed Tamlin by the shoulder and forced him round, the action making his hand jolt away from your face, and Azriel landed a sickening blow to the side of his face.
"This is not a battle you want to fight, Tamlin," Rhys stood beside Azriel who was panting with fury, he knew what the Tithe was, they all did, and the thought of Tamlin using your unwilling body as a vessel for his sickening ritual was enough to send Azriel into a blind rage.
Azriel bent down to Tamlin's level, noticing Feyre rush to your side as he did to comfort you, and growled, "Touch her again and it won't be a battle, Tamlin. It will be a war."
Tamlin had the gall to grin, "She's my fiancé, Shadowsinger. Not even you can get between that."
"No, but I can," Cassian grabbed Tamlin by the neck of his coat, hauling him to his feet in front of Rhys, "Y/N is a member of the Night Court, she is a cherished member of my family. She is not your mate, so you have no claim on her and you know it. Now, leave my city before I cut your head from your shoulders and leave Spring lordless."
Knowing he wouldn't win on Night Court soil, Tamlin scoffed and headed for the door, not before stopping at your side and letting his gaze roam your figure, "They can't watch you forever. I'll see you soon, Flower."
Then he left.
And you stood standing in Feyre's arms pale and frozen, looking at the broken glass on the floor and shaking your head, "I have to go," you announced, peeling yourself out of Feyre's embrace and feeling like a completely awful friend to her, "I'm sorry."
"Y/N.."
You couldn't stick around and listen to her call your name, you couldn't stay there and witness Azriel looking at you like a stranger. So you ran. You ran all the way home, you didn't stop for a single moment until you closed the door behind you and slid down the wood, bursting into chest wrecking sobs.
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If anyone would know who you were, it would be Lucien Vanserra, he was Tamlin's friend after all.
The red haired male found himself dragged before the Inner Circle by Elain, a thing he detested, he had just returned from the human realm and wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up with his mate, sitting in front of them was something he wanted to be rid of and fast.
"What do you know about Y/N? She came from the Spring Court," Lucien's eyes widened in saddening alarm at Feyre's question, he looked about the room as if you'd pop out from a corner at any given second.
"She's here?" Feyre nodded, "How is she?"
The question took them by surprise, and confirmed what they already knew, that you certainly we no double agent, but they had to know your story, it was a matter of protecting you, "She could be better. Tamlin was here."
Lucien's eyes darkened into molten lava pools and his nostrils flared, "Did he see her?" the silence confirmed his own query and he looked deflated, his shoulder fell and sadness floated over his face, enough sadness that Elain had moved to his side and wrapped his hand in her own.
"We need to know everything," Rhys ordered, moving his gaze to Azriel who was itching to leave the house and go to you, but even he had to know what had happened.
The Autumn male sighed, feeling conflicted, not wanting to tell your story for you but knowing he had no choice, "Y/N belongs to a very powerful Spring Court family, her father wanted a direct line to Tamlin so offered up his eldest daughter, Y/N, for marriage. Her father was a prick, no doubt still is. He sold Y/N to Tamlin like she was worth nothing more than what she could breed. She tried so hard to put off marrying him, she wanted a long engagement so that she could get to know Tamlin but everyone knew she just wanted more time to find a way out. Then the Tithe came and even I couldn't stop him from taking her into that cave," Lucien looked to Feyre who knew Tamlin all too well to know that what he was saying was nothing but the truth.
"Each year after that first Tithe, he sought her out against her will, you could hear her crying bouncing off of the walls. I couldn't watch it anymore so I helped her escape, I gave her enough money to be able to travel the continent and never heard from her again. I just did all I could to throw him off, to keep him away from her. Y/N was the happiest person in Spring, everyone loved her so much, and Tamlin ruined her."
"Seems like a pattern," Feyre cleared her throat and settled into Rhys' warmth that had wrapped around her like a blanket. She felt horrible, she thought she had it bad, but at least Tamlin never took her against her will like he had done to you repeatedly.
"Feyre I don't want to compare, but you have to understand that what he did to you was not nearly as bad as what he did to her. He took her light away, he forced her into a darkness I've never seen before or seen since, the neglection was sickening, she would cry for days on end, she'd mourn the life she dreamed of. It was unbearable."
A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips, "She made it here though, I knew she'd find where she belonged in the end."
"Why didn't she tell me? I would have understood."
Rhys shushed his mate, he knew how much Feyre loved you, they all did, "Sometimes you don't want to talk about what others made you do," his mind drifted and eyes glazed over as he remembered his own story for a moment, the painful memories tugging at his heartstrings.
Rhys knew how it felt to be used against your own will, he knew how it felt to lie there each night and feel like a worthless pawn in someone else's game. He knew how it felt to work yourself into exhaustion trying to forget the terrors others had willingly inflicted on you.
If anyone could truly understand you, then it would be him. And there was no way he was going to let you lock yourself away and perish with shame when you had a family and life awaiting you.
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