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throneofsmut · 1 year ago
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Kinktober Day Thirty: Period Sex Rhys x Female Reader
As Tamlin’s cousin, you never would’ve thought you’d ever leave the Spring Court.
The both of you were thick as thieves growing up, he was like your brother and you like his sister. Your father and Tamlin’s father were brothers. Being the younger one of the two, your father was his father’s right hand once he became High Lord.
During the war between faeries and humans 500 years ago, your parents died. So Tamlin’s parents took you in, they adopted you. Officially making you a Princess of Spring. Unexpectedly one night, you were in the library when you scented blood.
Making your way towards the bedrooms, you saw as your cousin and Rhysand became the new High Lords of their courts. Seeing the power shift into them, changing them. You let out a barely audible gasp, but they both heard. As soon as you and the new High Lord of Night locked eyes, the bond snapped.
Neither one of you said anything but you knew he felt it too. Then he winnowed away.
You never told anyone that he was your mate. Centuries passed and you avoided each other like the plague. Until the events Under the Mountain.
Rhys protected you as best he could. Did whatever he could to make you comfortable during those 49 years.
Once all of you were freed by your cousin’s made mate, Feyre. Tamlin and her winnowed back to the Spring Court. Lucien, your best friend was waiting for you to winnow back together, when he stopped you. You felt a talon scratching softly against your mental shields.
Dropping them enough only to let him in, he finally spoke mind to mind, “Come with me ?” Rhys’s voice was purr in your mind. “Soon-“ you promised “-I just need to talk to Tam.” He nodded his head, took a step back and then bowed at the waist. Rising back to his full height, giving you his signature smirk, he winnowed. Earning a scoff and an eye roll from Lucien, before the two of you winnowed back to Spring.
When you got back to the Spring Court you told Tamlin, Lucien and Feyre everything. They were all quiet as you spoke. Tamlin’s eyes finally met yours as you confessed, “The Spring Court is my home… or I thought it was. Under the mountain I found my real home in him. My mate. The High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand.”
Your cousin only nodded his head at your words before coming around his desk, to hug you. Holding you at arms length he finally spoke for the first time since you told him you had to talk to him about something important. “Go. Be happy, Sunshine.“ The use of your nickname given to you by your parents, making you sob into his chest like a child. “He waits for you. Just know you’ll always have a home and be welcome in Spring.”
That same night, you packed a couple of your things, then reached out to Rhys mentally. “Come to spring.”
You weren’t sure he got your message, until you felt his hand settle on your shoulder. Turning to look at him with red puffy eyes. Something flickered in his gaze, “Did Tamlin make you cry ?” You laughed in between sobs, “No, I’m just so happy.” His brows furrowed, then his gaze softened and his lips were on yours. “You’re coming home ?” He asked with hopeful eyes, you nodded your head.
Months had passed since you’d been mated and became High Lady of the Night Court.
You’d always felt a bit sick and tired a week before your cycle, among other symptoms. But you didn’t want to annoy or worry Rhys with something so trivial.
That’s why when he told you he’d be in Wind Haven for a couple days you told him you’d wait for him to come back, instead of joining him.
He was hesitant to leave you, noticing you were a bit off but he didn’t want to push you.
As soon as you heard the front door to the town house close you dragged yourself to the ensuite bathroom. You’d always hated this part of being fae. The cramps always had you doubled over, clutching your tummy, as you emptied its contents into the toilet bowl.
Forcing yourself to stand, to brush your teeth and then winnowing back into bed. You curled up in a ball under the blankets. Unaware that you were flooding the bond with how you felt.
Rhys nearly fell out of the sky as he felt an overwhelming pain come over him. Free falling for a couple seconds before landing roughly in the middle of the Illyrian forest floor covered in snow. He clutched his middle as he dry heaved. It took him a second to realize he was feeling your pain and discomfort. Winnowing back to you without a thought.
Mor, Cassian and Azriel had stayed in the townhouse the night before and heard you. All three of them had tried getting into Rhys and yours shared room to check on you, to no avail. You’d warded the room, being used to going through this on your own.
“Y/n !” Mor pounded on the door. “Please let me in !”
“We just want to help !” Cassian tried.
Azriel, “Open the door !”
So lost in the feeling of your discomfort, you hadn’t heard the front door slam shut.
Without a word Rhys walked through the townhouse, up the stairs to your shared room, breaking through the wards, getting to you.
He moved the blankets, caressing your flushed cheek, “Darling, why didn’t you tell me ?” He murmured.
All you could do was press your cheek further into his palm, as another cramp over took you, causing you to whimper and writhe in pain. Rhys huffed out a breath, “All right, that’s it.”
You heard his footsteps disappear into the bathroom and then water running.
He threw the blankets off of you and moved you to sit up right, pulling your night slip off of you. Then picking you up he carried you to the bathroom, placing you into the tub. The water was hot, soothing the cramps that riddled your body, relaxing the tension in your lower back.
“Mhm, thank you !” You whispered at Rhys. He was sitting on the edge of the tub peering down at you, reaching out to grab his hand, you tugged “Get in with me ?” He chuckled before taking his clothes off and you scooted forward so he’d fit.
Once he’s settled in he pulls you back against his chest, you grab one of his hands and place it over your tummy. The pressure always helps with cramps. You shift a bit and feel his length harden against your back,
“Sorry.” He mumbles.
You look at him over your shoulder, giggling, “Don’t be sorry.”
You try to ignore it but your hormones are so out of control and now all you want is Rhys. Behind you, you hear him scenting the air, no doubt scenting your arousal. Moving his freehand to play with your sore breasts, “Is this okay, darling ?” You nodded your head yes, then a moan escapes you as he starts tugging your sensitive nipples.
“Rhys ?” You utter breathlessly.
“Yes, darling ?” He rasps out.
“Touch me, please ?” The words die off on your tongue in a whimper as he trails his hand down your front, then starts rubbing tight circles over your clit.
You’re a mess of moans and shaky breaths as he continues playing with your sensitive cunt. He moves to slide his fingers into you but you grab his hand stopping him, “I’m bleeding.”
Rhys chuckles darkly before kissing you temple, “It’s not the first time I’ve had blood on my hands, princess. Let me help you feel good.”
Nodding your head as he slides his fingers into you, thrusting in and out of you. Curling them, making them hit that sweet spot, that has you crying out his name, “Rhys - Rhys!”
He places soft sensual kisses on your temple, neck and shoulders as one hand plays with your swollen breast. The other plunges in and out of you.
Breathing hitching as he picks up the pace, nails digging into his thick muscular thighs. His hand moves from your breast to your clit, pushing you over the edge, crying out his name - “Rhys !” - as you orgasm.
He kisses the top of your head, praising you, “Good girl.”
Still limp from your orgasm, he’s positions you so you’re straddling his lap, facing him. You’re shaking as he buries his cock into your aching cunt. “Shhh, baby. I got you.” He coos into your ear as he rubs his hand soothingly on your lower back. You melt into him as he rolls his hips, his cock massaging your sensitive walls.
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
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surielstea · 14 days ago
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First Impressions
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Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader
Summary: Rhys is a bumbling buffoon when it comes to meeting his mate for the first time.
Warnings: awkward tension, reader lives in the hewn city
A.Note: not totally proud of this one since it’s hard for me to write first meeting stories with a concluding ending, but I hope you guys enjoy :)
Word count: 4.8k words
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The scratching at my door had me sitting up in an instant, my back pressing against the cold stone wall as my hand slid beneath my pillow, fingers curling around the worn hilt of my dagger. My breath came shallow, controlled, as I listened—waiting for another sound, another shift in the air that might give away whoever had decided to test their luck tonight.
Life in the Hewn City never allowed for restful sleep. Not when shadows slithered in every alley when cruelty pulsed like a second heartbeat through its streets. And especially not now that Morrigan was gone.
Her father's estate had been far from a sanctuary, but at least the sheer power Keir wielded had kept the worst of the monsters at bay. Here, in my apartment on the outskirts of town, I had no such protection. Only thin walls, shattered locks, and neighbors who wouldn't need a reason to break into a young female's bedroom—who wouldn't care that I was High Fae, not when my magic was little more than a flickering candle in the wind.
A shiver danced down my spine as I gripped my dagger tighter, pulling it free just as the handle of my door twisted. My breath stilled.
Wards should have held. I'd watched Mor herself etch them into the worn wood, her golden power laced with every careful stroke. And yet the door creaked open, the darkness beyond bleeding into my already shadowed room.
I made myself as small as possible, the blanket of night cloaking me enough to fool a drunk—most in this wretched place were—but if they stepped inside if they came closer...
A head popped through the gap.
Gold hair caught the dim light.
My breath punched from my lungs. "Morrigan."
I tumbled out of bed, my dagger forgotten as I all but threw myself at her. She caught me effortlessly, her arms wrapping tight around my waist, solid and real, her familiar scent washing over me.
"Oh, I've missed you," she murmured, holding me as if she'd been gone for years rather than two unbearable weeks.
I pulled back just enough to take her in, my hands framing her face, my eyes darting over her features, searching for any sign of injury. My stomach knotted at the gauze wrapped around her waist, but otherwise, she seemed unharmed.
"I thought you got out safe?" I whispered.
She smirked. "Forgot some things."
There was something reckless in her eyes, something sharp and unyielding.
My stomach tightened further. "Mor—"
"I'm getting you out of here."
Her grin was edged with mischief, with certainty.
I had heard the rumors—the hushed whispers exchanged between patrons in dimly lit taverns, drunken murmurs of a secret city our High Lord kept hidden from the rest of us. A place untouched by the cruelty of the Hewn City, a myth spun to keep fools hopeful.
I never believed a word of it.
But Velaris was real.
"The City of Starlight," Morrigan had said, her voice breathless with something I hadn't seen in her since we were reckless, ignorant children. She'd smiled then—wild, unguarded. And I had known, in that moment, that every whispered legend had been true.
The city thrived even in the late hour. Laughter and music curled through the streets, golden lights casting soft glows against dark stone. I had never dreamed a place like this could exist, not outside of bedtime stories and half-formed wishes. And yet, Mor guided me through its winding paths as if it were the most natural thing in the world, showing me pieces of the Night Court I had never dared to imagine.
Until, finally, she led me to a small cabin at the edge of a quiet clearing.
Warm light spilled from its windows, shadows dancing against the wood as the hum of conversation and bursts of laughter leaked into the night. It was a thrilling sound—carefree, safe.
Mor stepped onto the porch, her fingers curling around my wrist as she turned back to me with a smirk. "I've been living here for the past few weeks," she hummed, as if it were no great thing. "And I decided I missed my roommate."
Her words barely registered over the clatter of voices inside. I could hear the easy teasing, the playful shouts.
I hesitated.
"It's Rhysand's cabin, but—"
"The High Lord's?" I whirled on her, my stomach clenching.
Mor blinked, as if I'd said something absurd. "He's my cousin, you know?"
I did know that. Of course I did. But the knowledge didn't stop the shiver that traced my spine.
I had seen Rhysand twice in my life—twice was enough.
Both times, I had been convinced I would die right there on the spot, crushed beneath the weight of his power. It exuded from him like a second set of wings, dark and monstrous. The ground itself seemed to quake beneath his steps. To say he was powerful was an insult to the very meaning of the word. He was terror incarnate, the nightmare that lived in the dark corners of every court.
I had heard the stories—of him reaching into minds and shattering them from the inside out, twisting their own fears into weapons sharper than any blade. He did not need to lift a hand to kill.
My throat went dry. "He's not in there, is he?"
The words were barely a whisper, but Mor only shrugged, far too casual. "Sure he is."
I nearly choked. What?
"Mor—"
She didn't give me a chance to protest.
Her fingers curled around mine, firm and unwavering, and before I could think to dig in my heels, she had pulled me forward—up the steps, through the doorway, past the foyer—until I was standing in the heart of the house.
The moment we entered, the conversation stopped.
Four sets of eyes locked onto me.
Hazel. Silver.
And then—
A violet gaze, piercing and unrelenting, dilated with something unreadable.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Rhysand.
The High Lord of Night. The male who could level entire armies with a flick of his wrist, who could peel apart minds like flower petals and leave nothing behind. The nightmare whispered about in every corner of the Hewn City.
And he was staring at me.
His lips parted slightly, as if words had caught in his throat.
Mor, of course, was entirely unaffected. "Gentlemen," she said, grinning as she strode deeper into the sitting room. "And Amren."
The silver-eyed female merely flicked a gaze over Mor before cutting straight to me, a sharp, assessing glance that made my stomach twist.
I was still trying to school my expression into something other than imminent death panic when Mor gave my wrist a final squeeze and released me.
"I'd like you all to meet—"
"She's my mate."
Silence.
Utter, perfect silence.
Then—
A choked sound came from the male lounging in an armchair, wings draped lazily over its sides. He had dark hair, hazel eyes gleaming with delight, and an unmistakable aura of shit-eating amusement. That one must be Cassian.
Next to him, another male, shadows curled at his feet like living things, merely blinked—slowly, deliberately—before glancing at Rhys and murmuring, "That was subtle." And there's Azriel.
Rhys, for all his legendary cunning, looked like he wanted to launch himself into the Sidra.
"Mate?" I rasped, my stomach flipping over itself.
No. No, surely not. That was—impossible. I would've felt something.
Or have I all along?
"You must forgive our dear High Lord," Amren drawled, sipping from a glass of something dark. "He usually has more tact when announcing these things."
Rhys finally seemed to snap back into his body, straightening his spine with something like composed horror.
"What I meant to say," he amended, his voice dropping into something far smoother, far silkier—too smooth as if he were compensating, "is that it's a pleasure to meet you."
Cassian snorted. "You just said she was your mate."
"Yes, thank you, Cassian."
Azriel's lips twitched. "I think she got the message."
My head was spinning, my throat tight. But my body had stilled—not from fear, exactly, but from something else. Something coiling in my chest, something aware.
Rhys's gaze flicked to mine, and his expression softened instantly, all humor melting into something devastatingly gentle.
"It's late. You must be exhausted." His voice had dipped, his usual charm tempered with something achingly sincere. "Let me get you something to eat. Or drink. Or—are you warm enough? I can get you a blanket—"
Cassian was shaking with silent laughter. Azriel merely watched, like he was filing this away for later use.
Amren, however, had no such patience. "Oh, for Cauldron's sake," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "She's not a wounded animal, Rhysand, stop circling her like a mother hen."
"I just want her to be comfortable," he argued, flashing her a glare before turning back to me with something so devastatingly earnest that I nearly forgot who he was. What he was.
He liked me.
No—he wanted me to like him.
Rhysand, the most powerful High Lord in history, was tripping over himself to win my favor.
And somehow, that was more terrifying than any of the rumors I'd ever heard.
I wasn't entirely sure how I ended up sitting on a plush couch in the middle of the High Lord's cabin, wrapped in a ridiculously soft blanket that I didn't remember agreeing to. A cup of tea—also not requested—was placed carefully in my hands, steam curling in the dim candlelight.
Rhysand hovered nearby.
And I meant hovered.
He was standing at an awkward, not-quite-close, not-quite-far distance, shifting slightly as if debating whether he should sit or stand or vanish into the floor. His normally easy, fluid grace had been utterly abandoned, leaving him looking... well. Uncertain.
Cassian, sprawled in the armchair across from me, was barely keeping it together. His wings twitched every few seconds, his lips pressed tightly as if physically holding in his laughter.
Azriel, seated beside him, was far more composed—but the slight upward tilt of his mouth betrayed his amusement.
I took a sip of my tea, trying to make sense of all this.
The High Lord of the Night Court—the terror of the Hewn City, the most powerful male in existence—had declared me his mate. And then proceeded to fall apart before my very eyes.
I was still trying to process it when Rhys spoke.
"Would you like more pillows?"
I blinked. "What?"
His violet eyes were very, very wide. "You look like you could use more pillows."
Cassian made a strangled noise.
Azriel coughed into his fist.
"I—I'm fine," I said slowly, watching as Rhys's shoulders sagged in relief.
Too fast. All of this was happening too fast, I couldn't keep up.
"Are you sure? Because I can get more."
Cassian let out a wheezing breath, eyes shining with unrestrained delight. "Yes, Rhys. More pillows. That's definitely what she needs."
Rhys shot him a withering glare before turning back to me, smoothing his expression into something intended to be charming, but coming across as deeply, deeply desperate.
"Or food!" he blurted. "Have you eaten? I can make you something. Or, well, I can't make you something, but I can get someone to—"
"She has tea, Rhys," Amren cut in dryly. "You shoved it into her hands two minutes ago."
"I did not shove—"
"You definitely shoved," Cassian confirmed, barely containing his cackle. "I thought you were going to spill boiling tea all over your mate."
I flinch slightly at the term as Rhys shoots back with, "I was being thoughtful."
Azriel hummed, taking a slow sip of his own drink, the amber color telling me it was something much stronger than tea. "Is that what we're calling it?"
I had absolutely no idea what to do with any of this.
Rhysand—the charmer, the schemer, the legend—was unraveling at the seams in front of me.
Because of me.
"I can make my own food," I finally said, mostly just to say something.
Rhys visibly straightened. "Of course! Yes, I knew that. I just—" He ran a hand through his hair, his usual ease nowhere to be found. "I want you to feel at home."
Cassian grinned. "I think she'd feel more at home if you stopped looming over her like a lovesick bat."
Rhys's glare could have melted stone.
Azriel just leaned back in his chair, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders. "I don't think I've ever seen you like this," he mused.
Rhys turned his attention back to me, clearly trying to regain some dignity. He attempted one of his infamous smirks. "You must forgive them. They're not used to seeing me flustered."
Cassian clapped a hand to his chest, eyes sparkling. "Oh, it's a gift, truly."
Azriel nodded solemnly. "We should savor this moment."
Rhys looked seconds away from throttling them both.
I just stared at him, still gripping the cup of tea like it was the only solid thing in the world. "Are you okay?" I asked before I could stop myself.
His breath caught.
And for a moment, the amusement, the chaos—it all faded. His eyes softened, something raw flickering behind them.
"I'm fine," he said, voice lower now, steadier. "I just... I wasn't expecting this."
Neither was I. But still, something shifted in my chest at the way he looked at me—like I was something precious.
I wasn't ready to name that feeling.
But for the first time since I'd arrived, I didn't feel like running.
Slowly—mercifully—Rhys seemed to remember how to function again.
He settled into the chair across from me, still watching me with those impossibly violet eyes, but at least he wasn't hovering like I might vanish if he so much as blinked.
Not that he'd relaxed entirely.
No, because the moment I so much as shifted—adjusting the blanket, setting my tea down—he twitched as if preparing to leap to his feet and fix something.
If I asked for anything, I had no doubt he'd be up and fetching it before I could even finish the sentence.
But at least he was sitting.
Amren, on the other hand, was done with the entire situation.
With a long-suffering sigh, she stood and stretched. "Alright. That's enough of this."
Cassian perked up. "Of what?"
She shot him a withering look. "The two of you sitting here, watching this disaster unfold like it's a theatrical event."
Cassian grinned, utterly unrepentant. "Oh, but it is."
Azriel just sipped his whiskey, but the small smirk on his lips said everything.
Amren turned her glare to them both, then pointed at the door. "Out."
Cassian gaped. "But—"
"Out," she repeated, already making her way toward him.
Cassian barely had time to dodge before she grabbed his arm, yanking him up with surprising strength for someone so small. "Azriel, move," she barked.
Azriel, for all his shadows and lethal grace, barely managed to stifle a chuckle before obeying.
Rhys, looking very much like a male clinging to the last shred of his dignity, just sighed. "Amren, I hardly think—"
"Oh, please." She shot him a knowing look. "You want them gone."
Rhys opened his mouth. Closed it. Then glanced—too quickly—at me.
Cassian cackled. "Oh, this is so good."
"I hate all of you," Rhys muttered.
Cassian just grinned, throwing an arm over Azriel's shoulder as Amren shoved them both toward the door. "Love you too, brother!"
The door shut behind them then silence settled.
I exhaled slowly, my mind still spinning from all of this—this place, these people, Rhysand, sitting before me and looking as though he didn't quite know what to do with himself.
Mor, still seated beside me, gave a soft, reassuring smile. "Ignore them," she said. "They're menaces, but they mean well."
I nodded, unsure what to say.
She nudged me gently. "You doing okay?"
I hesitated.
Then, quietly, "I think so."
Mor's smile warmed. "Good." She stood, stretching. "I'm just down the hall if you need anything, okay?"
I nodded again. "Thanks, Mor."
She winked. "Get some rest."
And then, just like that, I was alone. With Rhysand.
Who, despite his best attempts to seem relaxed, looked about two seconds away from combusting.
The silence stretched for a beat too long before Rhys cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "So," he started, voice smoother now, steadier, "what do you think of Velaris?"
I exhaled, my grip loosening on the blanket around my shoulders as I glanced toward the window. The city lights still twinkled beyond the glass, mirroring the stars above.
"It's..." I searched for the right word. Magnificent."
His lips curved. "It is." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Not what you expected?"
A soft huff of breath left me. "In all honesty, I didn't even expect it to be real."
Rhys chuckled, low and warm. "Most don't."
I looked back at him. "How long has it been hidden?"
His expression turned thoughtful. "Since the war." His gaze flickered to the window, a distant look in his eyes. "My family—my court—has fought to protect it for centuries. It's the one place in all of Prythian untouched by war, by cruelty." He met my gaze again, and this time, there was something softer there. "Now it's yours, too."
Something shifted in my chest at that. The way he said it like I belonged here. I swallowed. "And the court?"
His smile returned, easy and knowing. "You've already met the worst of them."
I let out a small laugh, shaking my head. "I don't believe that."
"Oh, you should." He smirked. "Cassian and Azriel? Winged buffoons. Mor? Chaos incarnate." He placed a hand on his chest, feigning solemnity. "And me? Well, the stories you've heard don't paint me in the best light, do they?"
A teasing edge now, that sharp, clever humor creeping into his voice.
I tilted my head. "No, they don't."
He grinned, but it softened as he glanced back outside. "You'll see for yourself, though." He hesitated, then added, "You'll be here for Starfall."
"Starfall?"
His eyes lit up, and suddenly, it was as if the shadows in the room no longer existed.
"You've never heard of it?"
I shook my head.
Rhys leaned closer, his voice dropping to something conspiratorial, enticing. "Once a year, the sky does something extraordinary."
I raised a brow, peering out the large arched window to look at the galaxy of stars just outside. "More extraordinary than usual?"
A chuckle. "Much more." He sat back again, watching me with a quiet sort of delight, as if he already knew I'd love it. "The stars don't just shine that night. They fall."
I blinked. "They fall?"
"Mmm." He traced a circle on the arm of his chair. "Not like shooting stars—though it looks similar. The souls of long-lost beings drift across the sky, shimmering trails left in their wake. It's..." He trailed off, searching for the word.
"Magnificent?" I supplied, unable to help the small smile tugging at my lips.
Rhys gave a slow, approving nod. "Very."
Something warm settled in my chest. For a moment, neither of us spoke.
And then, finally, I allowed myself to really look at him.
Not the High Lord. Not the nightmare. Just Rhysand.
And gods, he was handsome.
The kind of handsome that made the room feel smaller, the air feel warmer. Sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, those impossibly violet eyes that seemed to catch every flicker of candlelight. And the way he looked at me—like I was something precious. Like he already knew me, in some deep, unspoken way.
I cleared my throat, shoving away the thought. "It sounds magical."
He grinned, and for the first time, it wasn't the grin of a High Lord, or a male who held the power of nightmares in his hands.
It was just a smile. For me.
A slight yawn slipped from me, Rhys was instantly moving.
"Mother above, I've kept you up too late—" He was already leading me toward the hall, his steps brisk, his hands half-lifted as if he wanted to guide me but thought better of it.
I barely had time to keep up as he strode toward a door across from Mor's, gesturing to it like it was some grand reveal. "This is yours—of course, if you don't like it, we can find you another room, or a different house entirely, or—"
"Rhys—"
"I really should have let you rest earlier, I can be insufferable when I ramble, and—"
"Rhys."
"I hope you find everything comfortable, but if you need anything—extra pillows, a softer mattress, a different view—"
I pressed my palm to his chest. He froze.
His breath hitched, just barely—but I felt it beneath my hand, the sharp inhale, the slight stutter of his heartbeat.
His eyes locked onto mine, the violet darkening, blazing.
I had only meant to stop his spiraling apologies, but now... Now the air between us was thick with tension.
Something unseen curled and tightened, coiling like a living thing beneath my skin.
Rhys exhaled sharply through his nose. Slowly—reverently—his hand lifted, covering mine where it lay over his chest. His fingers curled just enough to hold me there, as if... as if he couldn't bear to let go.
Something between us shifted and I didn't have time to decide if it was for the better or not.
A pull, deep in my ribs. An ache that hadn't been there before.
Rhys went completely still.
Like he was waging some great internal war, fighting against a force that neither of us had yet spoken aloud. But I felt it.
The way his fingers tightened just slightly over mine. The way his lips parted like he was about to say something, only to think better of it.
The way his eyes—those star-flecked, devastatingly beautiful eyes—searched mine like they held the answer to something he'd been waiting for.
I should have stepped back.
I should have moved.
Instead, I stood there, heart pounding, fingers twitching against the soft fabric of his tunic.
Rhys swallowed, his throat working around the motion, but he said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood there, his chest rising and falling beneath my palm, his fingers flexing ever so slightly over mine like he was grounding himself—like he needed to hold on. I knew I should step back.
We had only just met.
Yet that fact seemed irrelevant, insignificant compared to the weight of the moment curling between us, thick as smoke.
Because I could feel it—something pulling me toward him, that bond deeper than attraction, sharper than longing. It was in the way his breath came uneven, in the way his gaze dropped, just briefly, to my lips before snapping back up to my eyes, a flicker of something raw, something wanting, breaking through his carefully placed walls.
His lips parted, like he might say something. Like he might stop this before it went too far.
I didn't let him. Didn't give myself the chance to second-guess, to think, to reason.
I surged forward.
Rhys barely had time to exhale before my lips met his. Soft. That was my first thought—how soft his lips were, warm and parting against mine as if in stunned surrender.
And then he was kissing me back.
A sharp inhale, his hand sliding up my wrist, curling around it like he couldn't quite believe this was happening—but wouldn't dare let go, either.
His other hand found my waist, light, hesitant, his fingers pressing in just enough to ground me, to anchor us both in the storm of whatever this was.
It wasn't desperate. It wasn't hurried. It was slow, tentative, a gentle exploration.
His nose brushed mine as he tilted his head, his lips parting wider, and I felt the way he breathed me in—like I was something to be savored, something he hadn't known he was starving for until now.
A small sound left me—something between a sigh and a whimper—and Rhys shuddered, his grip tightening ever so slightly, his fingertips pressing into my skin like he needed to remind himself this was real.
We lingered there, caught in something we didn't have a name for, something neither of us had expected but couldn't seem to pull away from.
His thumb brushed along my wrist, slow, reverent, as our lips moved together in a rhythm that felt achingly natural.
Like we had done this a thousand times before. Like we would do it a thousand times more.
When we finally parted, it was only enough to breathe, our foreheads pressing together, breaths mingling.
Rhys's fingers flexed at my waist.
"I—" His voice was hoarse, rough with something unspoken. He swallowed. "We should stop."
I exhaled shakily, my hands still fisting the fabric of his tunic.
"We should," I admitted.
His thumb traced slow, lazy circles along my wrist, like he was memorizing the shape of me, the feel of me.
And then, softer—softer than I'd ever heard anyone speak my name—
"But I don't want to."
I barely had time to whisper, "Neither do I," before he kissed me again.
His lips were still on mine, still moving, still taking, even as he rasped against my mouth, "We can't."
But he didn't stop. Didn't pull away.
If anything, his hands tightened at my waist, fingers pressing into my skin like he was anchoring himself—like he was fighting a losing battle against whatever force was unraveling between us.
I gasped as his tongue slid against mine, slow and thorough, like he was trying to memorize me, like he was desperate to learn every piece of me with nothing more than his lips, his hands, his breath.
"Rhys," I whispered, not knowing if it was meant to be a plea or a warning.
He groaned, his forehead pressing against mine, his breath coming out in short, uneven pants.
"I want to know you," he said, his voice so raw, so gutted that it sent a shiver down my spine.
Then his lips were on mine again, harder, deeper, like he was proving it, like he needed me to believe him.
"I want to know everything," he murmured against my mouth, between kisses that left me gasping, left me trembling, my fingers still tangled in his hair. Another kiss, this one rougher, hungrier. "Everything."
I whimpered against his lips, barely able to think, barely able to breathe with the way he was consuming me, the way his words were carving themselves into my ribs.
He groaned, like the sound was being ripped from him. "I—" He shuddered. "Tell me to stop."
I froze beneath him, blinking up at him, my head spinning, my lips swollen from his kisses.
He swallowed hard, his breathing uneven, his hands flexing at my sides.
"Tell me to stop," he repeated, voice ragged, "because I don't think I can on my own."
His words hung between us, raw and trembling, his breath fanning against my lips. I could still taste him, still feel the imprint of his hands at my sides, as if he had branded himself into my very skin. My heart pounded against my ribs, my body warring between the pull of the bond and the sliver of hesitation curling in my chest.
I slipped my hands from his hair, brushing my fingers along his jaw, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. "Rhys," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.
His eyes, dark and blazing with emotion, searched mine. I saw the restraint there, the war he was fighting within himself, the way his hands trembled against my sides.
I swallowed, forcing myself to find the words through the haze of want clouding my mind. "I'll accept the bond," I murmured. His breath hitched, his entire body going utterly still. "I just need some time."
A heartbeat passed. Then another. And then—he exhaled, his forehead pressing against mine, his entire frame shuddering. His hands skimmed up my sides, gentle now, reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of me before letting go.
"You could take centuries," he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple, featherlight. "Beyond that, if you wanted. I'd wait for you, always."
Something in my chest ached, something too big to name. I closed my eyes, breathing him in, the warmth of him, the endless patience laced in every word.
I tilted my head up, pressing the softest of kisses against his lips—nothing like the desperate, fevered ones from before. Just a promise. Just a thank you.
His hands lingered on my waist, like he wasn't quite ready to let go, but he didn't stop me as I pulled away. A small smile tugged at my lips. "Goodnight, Rhys."
His eyes softened, something almost wistful in them. "Goodnight, my love."
With a final glance, I turned and slipped into my room, closing the door behind me. And even then, I could still feel him—like a shadow, like a promise—waiting.
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thehighladywrites · 8 months ago
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, SITTING ON THEIR LAP
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✩ summary: different scenarios where you find yourself sitting on them
✩ warnings: nsfw, 18+, mentions of sex, mentions of self-doubt, kissing, begging, gossiping, fluff, smut, crack, fun times and soft Eris😭💗
✩ amara’s note: the original cassian hc was so long that i had to stop myself bc i was thirsting and it turned into a regular oneshot lmaooo😭 anyways enjoy babes!!!!💗💗💗
reblogs are really appreciated! :D
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RHYSAND
No matter how angry you and Rhys get or how petty the fight is, you two always end up holding hands, even while yelling at each other.
Sitting in his lap while you two argue about random, non important stuff is a standard
You guys just don’t do the whole “no touching” thing
Today, the argument was over who cooks better, both of you bickering pettily.
“Listen, I love you a lot, but the kitchen isn’t your best friend. It's crazy how you can burn an empty pot.”
“Maybe you’re crazy,” you retort, arms crossed over your chest as you step closer to him, leaning against his desk in his office.
He keeps arguing with you, going back and forth, while pushing his chair back from the desk to make room for you.
“Whatever, Rhys. I don’t even need to cook when I can summon anything. It’s stupid, and you’re being unfair,” you mutter as you put your hands on his shoulders and plop down in his lap, subconsciously warming at the way he holds your waist and places one hand on your back to keep you steady.
He suppresses a smile, scratching the back of his head as he looks up at your pouting self. “You’re absolutely right, sweetheart. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you’re an amazing chef,” he concedes, his tone laced with affection.
“Awww, come with me while I make you something,” you say, flashing him an oblivious smile.
“Oh! Um, you sure we shouldn't order something or..?” he asks nervously, his voice getting higher as he kisses you.
You slip out of his lap and hurry downstairs to plan his meal, assuring him not to worry about ordering anything and to just come down for his favorite meal.
“Dear Gods,” he whispers as he gets up, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.
ERIS
Eris had been stressed out for a few weeks now. Nothing you said seemed to make a difference.
He was dealing with his father’s death, ruling a new court as the heir, and inheriting the High Lord powers. Your heart ached for him. You wanted to be there for him, giving him hugs and words of encouragement, but you were not on that level yet
Today had been the most stressful day yet, resulting in him shutting down and locking himself up in his bedroom.
“Eris, are you okay? Can I please come in?” you knock gently on the wooden door, voice hushed and gentle.
After a few moments of silence, you hear him shuffling behind the door until he opens it very slightly.
He is shirtless, only in a pair of pants. You manage to catch a glimpse of his tired, amber eyes before he turns around to lie in his bed.
The room looks clinically clean, the only disturbance being Eris’s rugged appearance.
Without saying a word, you walk over to him and give him a hug. It’s a long, warm hug that tells him everything he doesn’t allow himself to hear: you’re there for him.
It takes a few moments for him to hug you back, but when he does, he wraps his arms tightly around your waist, bringing you into his lap.
Only after an hour of silence does he speak
“I feel like i’m stuck. These powers are killing me, the board is fucking annoying, the folk believe i’m wicked and cruel and i have no idea what to do about anything.”
He looks up at you with desperate eyes, “Do you believe I’m truly wicked?”
You shake your head in honesty. “No, honey. I have not met anyone as smart, kindhearted and brave as you. Others do not know you like I do but they should,” you whisper, hands going through his tussled hair. “You’ve been hiding behind your mask for too long, Eris. Let people see the real you.”
The room goes quiet, the only sound being the beating of your hearts.
Slowly his lips meet yours in a new and experimental kiss. He stares up at you with his pupils blown but before you can apologize and get off his lap, he kisses you again and locks his arm around you
“Thank you,” he whispers between heating kisses, “Thank you, beautiful.”
CASSIAN
“Hi there sugar, what can I do for you?” Cassian asks sweetly as he flicks your nose with his finger, happy that you ran into his office and immediately plopped down on his lap
“Can you fuck me?” you ask, frustrated with the lack of dick lately.
His eyes widen slightly at your words, then he slowly cracks a handsome smile. “Gods. How inappropriate of you,” he teases, the amusement clear in his voice.
His teasing almost makes you sob. This was totally NOT the time. You almost roll your eyes before realizing he will so not give in if you give him that
“Cassian, i’m begging you. I want, no- need to be fucked. Please, i’m losing hearing in my left ear,” you beg as you get closer and sit in his lap, rubbing your hands all over his chest
He looked incredibly good, almost unfairly so. Cassian’s jaw and chin had grown scruffy in a ruggedly masculine way that made him look older and even more attractive.
A week without seeing him had only heightened your weakness for his body, making you throb.
“Losing hearing? You must be really dying for me, huh? Alright then. I’ll let you ride,” he smirks at you while unbuckling his belt.
He finally fucking let’s you fuck, hitting spots that makes you go fuzzy brained.
You make him promise to never be gone again before going for another ride, satisfied when he breathlessly promises.
LUCIEN
There is not a bigger shit-talking couple in Prythian than you two
One look between you two is enough.
Someone’s being annoying? You share an annoyed glance. Someone’s being rude? You share a baffled glance. Something’s juicy’s happening? You share a glance that says you will so talk about it when you get home.
“— and he has the audacity to two-time her? He’s lucky to find even one person willing to date him,” you gossip, lounging in Lucien’s lap, your voice dripping with disbelief.
“You’re not going to believe this, but this isn’t his first time. He did that to Tamlin’s cousin too,” Lucien adds, his tone filled with incredulity.
“No way,” you gasp in disbelief, shaking your head as the gossip sinks in.
“Yeah, apparently this guy fucks around in all courts and cheats on anyone willing to stomach. What a fucking loser, honestly,” Lucien nods in agreement, disdain evident in his voice. “The sick bastard gets off on it.”
“That reminds me, guess what I heard about Rhys in Rita’s yeaterday,” Lucien prompts, leaning in with a sly grin, clearly ready to share some gossip.
“Some males and females were talking about Rhys, saying he's replaced Feyre with a clone,” Lucien whispers, his tone laced with disdain. “And get this— they think her transformation from human to fae is fake and that there is no way she could possibly be the mother of Nyx.”
“A clone? They’ll say anything these days,” you exclaim, raising an eyebrow incredulously.
“That's exactly what I'm saying! They're probably just making shit up out of thin air,” Lucien replies, nodding in agreement.
“I wouldn't put it past them,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for a biscuit, happy to be sitting and gossiping with your love.
AZRIEL
Azriel loves when you sit on his lap.
It makes him feel safe and relaxed knowing you're close to him.
It's something he does every day when he comes home - having you in his lap. Sometimes you both sit quietly, other times you talk or fuck or cuddle, depending on how you’re feeling.
Azriel especially likes the fuck part.
He loves the part where you sit on his lap while he works. If you’re good, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you. If not, he still fucks you but he does it with no mercy
He makes you sit on his dick and tells you not to move and inch or you will be edged for hours, not being allowed to cum once
Fucking torture is what it is honestly
“Stop moving around so much, i can’t focus.”
“Do you blame me? You’ve buried your dick in me, of course i’m moving. Maybe do something about that.”
He raises his eyebrows at your snarky comment. If it’s something he didn’t need today it was sass.
His day was quite shitty and all he needed was his sweet mate who would kiss away his problems and take his dick perfectly
Azriel smiled slightly as he put his pen down. He would take out his frustrations on you today.
“You want to be fucked? Let’s fuck,” he says in a low tone
In the end, all his papers are scattered, all pens on the floor.
He is relaxed and all smiley while you’re on death’s door💗
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shallyne · 10 months ago
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Feyre: it's my wedding day
Rhys: Nuh uh
Feyre: THE FUCK YOU MEAN NUH UH?
1K notes · View notes
mischiefmanagers · 11 months ago
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Rhysand Fic Rec Library 🦇💜
"Rhysand is the most handsome High Lord. Rhysand is the most delightful High Lord. Rhysand is the most cunning High Lord."
here's a list of one hundred Rhysand x Reader and Rhysand x OC fics to celebrate the most handsome High Lord ✨
🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut
by @sarawritestories
The Most Beautiful High Lady 🥀💞
You Looked Like You Could Use a Partner 💞
by @lalacliffthorne
starshine (series) 🥀💞
by @marvelsmylife
Not As It Seems 🥀💞
Protecting his high lady 🥀💞
I think I wanna marry you 💞
by @swansworth
The Handsome Stranger 🥀💞
My High Lady 🔥
by @writingsbychlo
how we survive 🥀 platonic Rhysand x Reader but it's AMAZING
Home To Us 💞🌼
How to Save a Life 💞
by @azrielsdove
The High Lords 🥀🔥
Til Death Do Us Part 🥀🔥
Money, Power, Glory 🥀
Beautiful Girl 🥀💞
by @historiaxvanserra
What Our Souls Are Made Of 🥀💞
by @honeybeefae
Pretty Little Tears 🔥
by @wishfulwithwine
The Great War 🥀
by @leafsandstarlight
Against Your Brother's Wishes 🥀💞
Easy Like Sunday Morning 💞🔥
Welcome Distraction 🔥
Little Reminders 💞
by @cherhys
Anything, Always 🥀💞
Colliding Visions 💞
by @k-daydreams
Touch in the Dark 🥀
by @azsazz
Dioxazine 💞
Lavender Haze
Hung Up 🔥
by @jeannineee
Pining 🥀
Daddy Kink 🔥
by @ughthatimagineblog
love and loathing 💞🔥
forever and a day 💞
by @fieldofdaisiies
I Never Mean to Hurt You 🥀
by @daydreaming-nerd
The Bonds That Break Us 💞🥀🔥
by @hellcat8908
Returning Home 🥀💞
by @thehighladywrites
This Isn't Goodbye, This Is Simply See You Later 💞🥀🔥
Just One More, I Know You Can Do It 💞🔥
by @lure-of-writing
Where my soul can rest 🥀
by @saphirered
The Ice Queen and the High Lord 🔥
May We Meet Again
by @bookish-whore
'Til Death 💞
Never Made A Difference 🥀
by @tadpolesonalgae
mine 🔥
Knocked up 🔥
by @itsphoenix0724
Promises 🥀
by @fanttasttica
I hate you more.. 🥀
Shy priestess 💞
Finding you 🔥
Your love healed me 🥀💞
Just love me 🥀
One plus one makes three 💞
by @illyrian-dreamer
Dance with the devil
Make a bargain with me 💞🥀
by @azrielbrainrot
My Body Keeps Saying it's Yours 🔥
by @b00kdiary
Dreamer
by @solbaby7
Lose Control 💞
Put On A Show 🔥
Testing the Waters 💞🔥🌼
by @luxsky
Kicking out 💞
by @themusingsofacurlyhairednerd
Warm Me Up 💞🔥
Datura
by @starstruckunknown-princess
Black Rose 🥀
by @acourtofwhatthefuck
Needs Must 🔥
With Me, Always 🥀💞
Shrinking Violet 🔥
Forget Me Not 💞
by @lanitalay
At sea 💞🥀
by @redheadspark
Truth 💞🥀
Carry 💞🥀
My Pleasure 💞
Title 💞
by @azrielslightintheshadows
Game night disaster 🥀
Between you and danger 🥀
by @danikamariewrites
Take Them All Down 🥀🌼
Only For You 💞
Pointless Meetings 💞
Pranks 💞
by @bloodycassian
winter court runaway
by @thevanserrras
The Stolen Night 🥀💞
by @thelov3lybookworm
Winter Without You 🥀
Love Needs No Voice
by @prythianpages
Wanna Be Yours 💞
by @milswrites
Out of the Mountain 🥀
by @readychilledwine
Requiem for a Dream (series) 🥀💞
Broken 🥀
Flight Patterns 🥀💞🌼
Subtle 💞
Scream 🔥
Plot Measure 🥀
Drumming Song 🔥
Family Matters 🔥
Pieces of You 🥀🌼
by @clairebear08
Questioning Motives 🔥
by @serpentandlily
Falling Apart for You 🥀
by @shadowdaddies
Heavy is the Head 🥀💞🔥
Crawl to Me 🥀🔥
by @throneofsapphics
if you insist 💞
surprise reunions 🔥
by @azriels-shadowsinger
Reunited 💞🥀
by batboylover
secretly mated 🥀💞
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azrielsbxtch · 9 months ago
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They can never make me hate Rhys look at that face😌
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[Art by @indrakiin on IG]
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highbabyofthenightcourt · 23 days ago
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Feysand love gives me lifeeee💛✨💫🌟💙
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-this beautiful piece is by alexandraczerw_art
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rainingriversofyou · 8 months ago
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Feyre x Rhys - ACOTAR 🌕 Artist: diana_shuke
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solbaby7 · 11 months ago
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Holy mother of pearl I need a part 3 of blurred lines like I need air to breathe
as you wish. but this lil blurb is it y’all 🤣
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[ part 1 ] [ part 2 ]
Rhysand was being obnoxious.
Unreasonably jealous and filled with a need like no other—almost comparable to the one induced by the powder that still burned in your system—his mouth wouldn’t stop latching to the marks Azriel had sucked into your neck. “Don’t get all quiet on me now,” Rhys huffs out, teeth nipping at your ear from behind.
Water sloshes over the edge of the tub, soaking the floor and the clothes scattered in it but neither of you can find it in you to care. Not when Rhys’ cock felt so deep, fucking into the swollen mess of your pussy like it was the first time all over again. “Azriel’s still here. It’s rude.”
“Don’t,” He’s vicious in his reprimand, guiding you up and down the girthy length of him with ease. Nails bite into already bruised flesh but the relief overrides the temporary discomfort. “—ever say another males name while I’m fucking you.”
A low hum dips in your throat. “Jealousy’s sexy on you, High Lord.” The soft fat of your breasts drag against the rising muscles of his chest, manicured nails raking through strands of silky obsidian. “Worried he did a better job? Lived up to the rumors about those great, big wings of his?”
The hand that splays across the length of your neck is unforgiving when he pulls you in closer, noses touching and breath mingling when a growl grows in his chest. It should spark fear, force your heartbeat to rise but all you feel is the electrifying tingle of anticipation. “Did he?”
“Maybe,” You shrug, feigning nonchalance but you can feel the twitch of his cock from inside you. There’s no friction, just fullness as your arms remain looped over broad shoulders, cool air nipping at wet skin. “Can’t remember—was a little out of it.”
“Is that right?” Rhysand’s eyes glaze over a moment, a dark smirk forming on regal features. Through the drug induced haze, you have half the sense to notice the shift in the air. Gone is the mate willing to offer endless coddling and comforting words crooned into the sensitive spot below your ear. Sweet touches are replaced with the all-consuming power that made Rhys the most dangerous of all the High Lords; dark magic cloaking the bathing chamber in pitch black, cutting off all sense of sight and distorting sound. “Shall I give you a refresher?”
Familiar talons tease at the barrier of your mental walls, itching to sink in and take the reins. Goosebumps swarm your skin despite the warmth of the water lapping at your legs. “Do as you please—take notes if you must.”
Your mates leniency towards your steadily growing snark seems to dwindle with each sentence spoken and he’s less than gentle when breaching the boundaries of your mind, rooting around as if he owned the place. Rhys yanks the offending memory forward, his presence lingering at your back, breath tickling at your neck as you’re forced to watch with him.
Watch you and Azriel—the fucked out glaze in your eye. The moans and hoarse screams for it harder. Deeper. “It surprises me that you could’ve forgotten this,” Rhysand taunts, chuckling to himself at the pliant lean of your body when his hands mimic Azriel’s. Fingers pinch at hardened nipples, copying the cruel pace set until witty remarks fizzled away; all the spark snuffed out by alluring darkness and the delicious drag of Rhysand’s cock inside of you. Your eyes begin to flutter closed when a hand curls around your jaw, face forcefully raised to keep watching. “Pay attention,” The rasp in his tone shoots right between your thighs and it’s impossible to resist wiggling your hips, meeting every thrust until you swore you could feel both of them at the same time. “Don’t look away,” He commands, barely winded. “Or I’ll stop and leave you here to ride this out on your own.”
Thank the Mother he was standing behind you, unable to catch the harsh bite of your lip and the pitiful wobble of your chin. But still, you obeyed. Never tearing your eyes away for even a second as Rhysand fucked into you, hands gripping at your hips and wandering the length of your body before the touches began to lose its synchronicity. “It’s so deep,” The whine is abruptly cut off, a palm pressed against your lips as he manually silences you.
“That’s not what you said to him.” One finger raised from your face to point at the memory, Azriel’s gruff words muffled by the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Every nerve burns, muscles screaming with tension as that coil tightened more and more and more in the pit of your belly. “I thought you were worried about Az hearing you, pretty girl?” Your neck cranes as he pulls your back flush to his chest, resting your head on his shoulder but the devastating thrust of his hips don’t stop and the angle threatens to force your eyes closed. “Don’t be fucking rude.”
It’s torture; trying to remain quiet with so much happening. You swear you can feel Azriel’s hands on your body, skipping past Rhys’ own while twin tongues taste at your neck. Your sounds muffle against his palm, water splashing and skin slapping until four hands became too much for one body.
“He didn’t fuck you like this,” The High Lord all but snarls in your ear, two strong fingers rubbing at your clit in firm circles. “Say it.”
“He didn’t—“ You stammer over the words, garbled syllables rumbling against the hand that slides back down to your throat and the memory is shoved away; tucked in a box and lock deep within the corners of your mind. “He didn’t fuck me like this. Not how you do.”
Plush lips kiss at sweat-slick cheeks, tongue claiming at the line of your jaw and teeth sink into the already bruised expanse of your neck. “Now say it like you mean it.”
It’s too much, the teasing and that possessive bite in his grip. “No one does it like you, Rhys.” You’re so close, fingers digging into the edge of the tub, back arching into him as you teetered that line—coil threatening to give at any second. “No one ever will.”
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littlest-w01f · 7 months ago
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Sensitive
Batboys x Reader
RHYSAND MASTERLIST
AZRIEL MASTERLIST
CASSIAN MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
Summary: Rhysand shows you he and his closest friends aren't put off by blood
CW: Period sex, very descriptive, blood, horny young adult batboys, wingplay, shadowplay, some consensual mind control, Smut 18+ MDNI (Brought to you by horny periods, my uterus has taken control of me)
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A/n: posting both together cause I'll be busy later and don't want to forget. Special mention to @shadowsingers-mate who asked to be tagged :)
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The sun had set as you lay in Rhysand, your mate's cot, in the tent he shared with his friends, he would've been training all day while you were working with your mother, he had asked you to come to his tent after you were done, your stomach had been cramping in a familiar way all day, eyes going wide, Illyrian wings curling around yourself as you tense, you had managed to hide your periods for a while, well, almost two years you would cover yourself with a different scent than of your periods so no one caught on, and sometimes Rhysand would glamour you too.
You shot up, your stomach hurting from the cramps, Oh no, you thought as you moved to see blood spots in Rhysand's cot, you stood up, eyes wide in fear.
Panic flooded through you as you stared at the blood spots on Rhysand's cot, your heart racing. You knew you had to clean this up quickly before anyone noticed. But as you stood there frozen, you couldn't help but think about how you would explain this to Rhysand and the others.
You tried to look for something to clean the crimson spots with and find a washcloth, but you ended up spreading it further. As you frantically scrubbed at the stains, trying to erase evidence of your predicament, your mind raced with worry. Thinking of how you could possibly explain this to Rhysand without them thinking less of you.
Suddenly, a warm hand rested on your shoulder, causing you to jump slightly. Rhysand's piercing violet eyes locking onto yours. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked, concern etched on his handsome face, his body covered in sweat from training.
You swallowed hard, trying to find the words. "I… I started bleeding... Ruined your bed..." You stammered, gesturing to the cot behind you.
Rhysand's expression softened, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's just a little blood, alright? It's nothing serious."
His reassuring presence did nothing to calm your frantic heart. Rhysand's comforting embrace felt foreign against your trembling body, a stark reminder of your unspoken shame. Your mind scrambled to justify why you were feeling such dread over what seemed like a normal occurrence to everyone else.
"Let me take care of this," Rhysand murmured, guiding you back towards the cot and pushing you gently down His piercing gaze locked onto yours again, filled with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.
"You know you're always safe with me, right? I'm not one of the males who will force your wings clipped." He murmured softly, his voice low and soothing. "No matter what happens."
"Yeah, I know... I just... Paniced." You nodded, "I know now clean you keep your things and I just... Bled all over your damn bed."
Rhysand chuckled, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Well, it's not the first time my things has seen some unexpected messes, and it won't be the last, I live with Cassian and Azriel remember." He teased, his fingers trailing along your spine in a soothing pattern.
His touch sent shivers down your body, despite the awkward situation. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and arousal coursing through your veins from his gaze.
Rhysand leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck. "But since we're already here, and I've got you all to myself… Why don't we make the most of it?" He suggested, his voice dripping with seduction.
Just as Rhysand pushed your skirt up, exposing your cotton lingerie to him, sliding them off and throwing them somewhere behind him, the sound of wings echoed outside the tent. Cassian and Azriel landed in, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement at the sight before them.
Cassian's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his gaze lingering on your exposed thighs and the crimson spots on your garments. "Well, well, looks like someone's having a bloody good time," he drawled, a smirk playing on his lips.
Azriel, on the other hand, looked a bit more flustered, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. However, his eyes never left your body, filled with hunger, his shadows turning and twisting as the sight. And he did manage an eye roll at Cassian's comment.
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With a yelp you shut your thighs, not that it was embarrassing to have them see you and your mate in compromising positions, since you had made love while they were in the room acting as if you weren't fucking in the tent, and you'd seen them in the same positions with the random females they brought back, making you all pretty nonchalant about nudity.
Rhysand, sensing your unease, gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry, darlings, we're all grown here. There's no need to be shy, besides, blood doesn't make any of us squmish," he purred, spreading your legs again, his hands roaming your exposed thigh, sending tingles throughout your body.
Cassian, still smirking, stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "In fact, we could all use a good fuck after a long day of training and work."
A cough sounded from Azriel but the scent of his arousal made it quite clear he liked the idea
You felt Rhysand press into your mind shields, Are you sure? I could always tell them to fuck off, his voice rang in your head.
You nod, heart racing wildly, "I want that... I'd like that."
With a nod, Rhysand glamoured the tent to keep the sounds in, his hands travelled upwards, tracing the curves of your hips and then along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "As you wish," he whispered huskily, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.
Cassian and Azriel watched intently, their own arousal growing more evident by the second. Cassian closed the distance between you and him, his clothes gone, pressing his chest against your back, you whine as it makes contact with your wings, his hands finding their way to cup your breasts, ripping your dress off your body.
Meanwhile, Azriel approached from the side, his fingers ghosting across your exposed skin, trailing down until he reached your inner thigh, teasingly close to where you needed him most.
Azriel's finger slipped inside your slick heat, the sensation of his digit coated in your blood mixing with your arousal sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. He pumped his finger slowly, curling it to find and stroke that sensitive spot within you, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.
Rhysand broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "That's it, let us take care of you." Rhysand snapped his fingers and he and Azriel's clothes disappeared. His hands found their way to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your cunt as did the sight of their hard cocks curving into their stomach.
Cassian's mouth latched onto your neck, biting and sucking, marking you as his. His free hand slid down to join Azriel's, both of them pumping their fingers in and out of you in tandem, driving you closer to the edge.
The sensation of being surrounded by their leathery wings only heightened your arousal, their unique scents mingling together in the air around you. The combined pressure of their bodies against you, coupled with the rhythm of their fingers working in and out of you, drove you to the brink of insanity.
Rhysand's teeth grazed against your collarbone, sending an electric jolt down your spine. "You're so fucking wet for them, so messy, aren't you?" he growled, his fingers rolling your hardened nipples between them.
Azriel added another finger, stretching you deliciously, his strokes becoming more insistent. Cassian nipped at your earlobe, whispering, "Come on baby, let go."
Your entire body tensed, a cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm hit you hard, your walls clenching around Azriel and Cassian's fingers.
As your climax ripped through you, waves of intense pleasure crashing over you, you cried out, your voice echoing around the tent. Your inner walls spasmed around Azriel and Cassian's fingers, coating their digits in your thick, crimson release.
Rhysand's teasing bites on your wings only intensified the sensations, causing you to convulse under their touches. He leaned in, capturing your lips once more in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans as your orgasm subsided.
Cassian and Azriel slowly withdrew their fingers, watching as your cunt gushed one final time, coating their hands in your essence.
The air within the small confines of the tent grew thick with lustful energy, the scent of arousal and blood filling your nostrils. Rhysand smiled, pleased with the fucked out look on your face. "Let's not waste another moment, huh?" he murmured, his hands travelling lower, grazing the edges of your soaked cunt.
"We'll take the front," Cassian said, his voice rough with desire as he bit your shoulder.
"I want her mouth," Azriel added, stepping closer, his shadowy tendrils reaching out to caress your skin, the shadows feeling you up.
With a wicked grin, Rhysand positioned himself between your spread thighs, his cock throbbing against your dripping entrance. "I think it's only fair, my love, with how hard they made you cum," he purred, pushing the tip of his cock against you, teasing you mercilessly.
Cassian moved to your side, positioning his cock at your cunt beside Rhysand's, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Hold her still, Rhys," he smirked, pressing against your hole.
Azriel's shadows wrapped around your waist, holding you steady as they bend you backwards, laying you on your side, resting your head on his thigh, so close to his cock it had you salivating.
"Hold her, how?" Rhysand chuckled, looking right into your eyes, Do you want? He asked in your head, his daemati abilities around your mind. You relaxed with a yes, letting him take control of your mind and body, forcing you still, leaving your control enough so you could moan.
With a thought, Rhysand tightened his grip on your mind, controlling your muscles to stay perfectly still. He grinned, loving the power he held over you, before guiding his cock to your entrance once again. "Like this?"
"Well, I was thinking more leather ristraints, but this works," Cassian leaned into your neck, kissing and biting your neck.
The head of Cassian's cock pressed against you, spreading your folds apart, before sinking into your warmth. A groan escaped his lips as he bottomed out, filling you completely.
At the same time, Azriel aligned his cock with your lips, his tip pressing against your mouth. "Ready for me too, princess?" Azriel taunted, knowing you couldn't move on your own accord, as Cassian gave your ass cheek a firm slap making you gasp softly.
With a nod, Rhysand made you open your mouth, tongue poking out slightly for Azriel to push his cock in, as Rhysand began thrusting into your slick cunt, each movement controlled and calculated. His hips snapped forward, burying himself deeper within you, his balls slapping against your swollen clit with every powerful thrust.
Cassian's cockhead breached your hole beside Rhysand's cock, stretching you deliciously wide with both your cocks. He paused for a moment, savouring the sensation before beginning to push in. Inch by slow inch, he filled you, until finally he was buried to the hilt within your depths.
The sensation of having two cocks inside you at once was overwhelming, your body stretched beyond what felt natural, yet the pleasure was indescribable. Rhysand continued his relentless pace, groaning, his cock pistoning in and out of your cunt, while Cassian matched his movements, driving his own cock into your cunt. When one pulled out till the head the other pushed in completely
Azriel watched, fascinated, as you took his cock into your mouth, the sight of your lips stretched around his girth enough to make him throb with need. "Fuck… so beautiful," he breathed out, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you to take him deeper.
As if on cue, Rhysand and Cassian increased their pace, their bodies moving in sync with each other. The sounds of wet slaps echoed throughout the tent,
The cool touch of Azriel's shadows sent shocks of pleasure straight to your nipples. They rolled and pinched your breasts, drawing moans from your throat, which vibrated around Azriel's shaft. The shadows also found your clit, flicking and circling the sensitive bud, driving you closer to the edge.
Cassian's tongue danced across the delicate membranes of your wings, sending shivers down your spine. Rhysand and Cassian's cocks, coated in your juices and blood, slid in and out of your cunt with ease, the friction building towards an explosive climax.
Azriel's shadows continued their torment, tweaking your nipples and rubbing your clit in tight circles. The combination of sensations was too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the brink of orgasm once more.
As Azriel pushed his cock further into your throat, you gagged, your eyes watering. But the sensation only spurred him on, his hips bucking forward to plunge even deeper into your mouth.
Rhysand and Cassian didn't hold back either, their thrusts becoming erratic and uncontrolled as they chased their own release. Their cocks pounded relentlessly against your inner walls, each stroke hitting spots that made stars burst in your vision.
The pressure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap. Your body tensed, your cunt clenching around the two cocks impaling you, and then you came, screaming and choking around Azriel's cock as waves of pure bliss washed over you, slightly snapping out of Rhysand's control before he held you again.
With a roar that reverberated through the tent, Rhysand buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hot seed spurting into your womb. At the same time, soon after Cassian grunted, his cock twitching as he released his load, coating your insides with his cum.
As Rhysand and Cassian's orgasms triggered your sudden third, you clenched around them, milking every last drop from their spent cocks. Then, just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, Azriel's cock pulsed in your throat, his cum flooding your mouth.
With their releases spent, Rhysand and Cassian slowly pulled out of your dripping cunt, leaving trails of their combined fluids running down your thighs. They both panted heavily, their eyes locked onto you with a mix of satisfaction and lust.
Meanwhile, Azriel gently pulled his cock from your mouth, smirking down at you with pride. "Damn, princess… You really know how to handle us."
As the afterglow settled over you, Rhysand wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest. "I think we've broken our poor little darling," He teased, nuzzling into your neck.
Rhysand slipped out of your mind, and you sighed against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist, "Rhys?" You gasp softly.
"Yeah, love?" He whispered with a smile as Cassian and Azriel left you alone for a moment, Cassian discarding her bloody dress, Azriel getting a new one.
You look up at him, your eyes still glazed over from the hold he had taken of your mind, "I really liked that."
"You enjoyed being our plaything?" Rhysand chuckled, his voice low and husky. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I'm glad to hear that, my sweet." He kissed you deeply, before winnowing a glass of water for you to sip from.
Breaking the kiss, he looked into your eyes, a glint of mischief twinkling in his own. "But don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from."
You nod, tired, "Sure…"
Rhysand smiled, with a wave of his hand cleaning you and the bloody mess around you, spelling you to not bleed everywhere further, "Get some sleep dear, I'll be here when you wake up."
With a content sigh, you curled up against Rhysand, feeling utterly sated and exhausted. Your eyes grew heavy, and before long, you were fast asleep, your dreams filled with erotic images of the night's events.
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{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}
{Azriel Taglist- @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch}
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throneofsmut · 1 year ago
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Kintober Day Twenty-Two : Against a Wall Rhys x Female Reader
Being Helion’s little sister had its perks. Like being able to lose yourself in all of the books the Day court library had to offer. Granted you were only a couple years younger, he was extremely overprotective. More so now that he was High Lord of Day and his advisor’s were hounding him to marry you off.
Their excuse was it would help make the Day court even stronger, but since you were children it was obvious Helion would inherit the crown.
You didn’t mind it, yet some people thought you were envious but truth be told you didn’t want nor care for the crown. Helion knew that, he also knew you just wanted to be happy above all else and to be loved like the one written in your books. Hoping to one day find your mate.
So he made you a promise. When he became High Lord he wouldn’t marry you off, or force you to do anything you didn’t want to. He instead let you find love on your own and basically let you do whatever, as long as it didn’t hurt you, others or the day court.
Still he was overprotective and intimidating, making it hard to find someone willing to date the High Lord’s little sister. But there was one who didn’t care that he was High Lord. The heir to the crown of the Night Court.
Rhysand.
Which was why you were about to get fucked against a wall on one of the floors of the Day Court libraries. While your brother and Rhys’ father were in a meeting.
“Rhys.” His name was a prayer on your lips as he moved your hips over his clothed cock, reveling in the soft whimpers leaving your lips from the friction. You could feel him through the clothes separating the two of you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from rubbing against him.
“I need you inside me.” You confessed softly, trying to hold back the moans trying to escape you. As he kissed your neck and breasts, nipping at them lightly before pulling back to look at you.
He gave you a wicked smirk but something flickered in his eyes at your words. “I said i’d fuck you against the wall, do you think i’m not gonna follow through with that, darling ?”
“Just shut up and fuck me.” You snarled against his shoulder as he grounded hips into your harder.
“You won’t be able to walk after I’m done with you.”
“Rhys-“ Your words died in your throat, as he pushed into. Crashing his hips into yours and then he’s pulling almost all the way out before crashing back into you, making you cry out in pleasure.
He growls into your ear quietly, “You have to be quiet or we’ll get caught.”
But it’s too late, you’re too far gone, lost in the pleasure he’s making you feel. Too lost in him. In the way his cock feels inside you, his body pressed against yours and his low groans in your ear.
“I told you to be quiet, fuck- your legs are shaking.” He groaned, lips parted slightly. You look at him through half-lidded eyes. Your eyes falling to his soft lips, licking from his bottom lip to his top lip before claiming his mouth with yours.
Suddenly he’s pulling back, resting his forehead against yours as he fucks you faster and harder than before. He knows you're about to fall over the edge from the way you're clenching around him and he was to fall with you.
You bite his shoulder, suppressing a scream as you fall apart. Rhys, falling right behind with a low groan, as he cums inside of you.
He presses lazy kisses on your forehead, cock still buried inside of you as he holds you up against the wall. Chests still heaving, when the both of you hear your brother calling out for you.
“Y/n.”
The both of you pull apart, trying to straighten your clothes out, you throw a scent glamour over the both of you. Hoping he won’t notice anything but your legs are stilling fucking shaking.
“Fucking Hell.” You mutter and Rhys is by your side in an instant, helping to steady you.
“Y/n ?” Helion turns the corner looking at the both of you. Eyes narrowed as he stares down Rhys and Mother help you because Rhys just gives him a lazy grin in response.
“What are you two doing here ?”
Fuck he knows. You and Rhys are caught. “Uh…” And then Rhys is talking, “She was showing me a book about the-“ He turns to look at you and as soon as your eyes meet, the both of you let out nearly inaudible gasps.
Staring at each other with wide eyes.
He inches closer, giving you a broad smile as he cradles your face in his large hands. Your cheeks glowing as you gave him a dimpled grin in return, before the both of you breathed one word.
“Mate.”
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
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surielstea · 9 months ago
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Heated Traditions
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Pairing: Bat Boys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Reader joins the three males in the sauna during solstice and things get more heated than just the steam.
Warnings: smut | minors dni | 18+ only | multi orgasm | foursome (f, m, m, m) | anal sex | p in v | oral (m receiving) | breeding kink | petnames | some other filthy stuff | enjoy!
4.2k words
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Winter solstice had come upon Velaris like a cold gust of wind, bringing powdery snow and the hectic holidays.
When I woke up to my mate's side of the bed being empty I knew exactly where he was, out in the cold, playing with snowballs like a child with the rest of his brothers.
I, however, hadn't been expecting the small wrapped box that was perched on his untouched pillow.
I sit up excitedly, running my hands through my nest of hair a few times before picking up the box and tearing it like a toddler on her birthday.
I come across a black velvet box, a note taped to the top of it and I smile as I recognize the neat handwriting.
I'm sorry I couldn't be with you this morning but I promise to make up for it later, here's your first gift of many, happy solstice darling.
- the most handsome High Lord
I giggle at the obnoxious title he gave himself and set the note down, then crack open the top of the jewelry box, revealing a stunning violet gem connected to a silver chain that glinted beneath the morning light. I smile, running my fingers along the chain that moves like liquid. The color of the gem reminded me so substantially of Rhysand's eyes, the familiar violet I saw every night before I went to bed and every morning when I awoke, except this morning, this morning when he gifted me the ability to feel seen by him at all times.
I can't contain my grin as I fasten the necklace around my throat, wishing he was here to help as I struggle with the clasp, but eventually, I get it, and it seems even more beautiful on.
I build my outfit around the necklace, putting on a floor-length gown of lilac silk, adorned by silver rings and a sterling bracelet to match the chain.
I do a light makeup look and fix my tangled hair into a simple style, leaving the now-tamed locks going down my back.
I exit my bedroom, toying with the jewel on my necklace as I do so, walking out into the hallway before entering the kitchen where Morrigan resided, sipping a steaming cup of cocoa. "Morning," I smile softly and she returns it, silently offering me a cup of the seasonal beverage.
"It's too early to look as good as you do," She claims after a moment of silently sipping our drinks. I shrug with a smile.
"Nonsense, I just always look good," I toss her a wink and she shakes her head with an amused grin. "When did they leave?" I ask, walking over to one of the many windows in the large house, peering out at the powdery snow and the white-capped mountains.
"Hours ago, they should be back soon," She joins me at the window, staring into the abyss of blinding white that took over the entire landscape. The two of us had been so caught up staring at the outside we hadn't even noticed the door open, and hadn't realized who walked in either.
"What are we looking at?" A familiar cold voice chimes from behind me and I jump, whirling around to face Amren who had a large bag filled with what seemed to be presents.
"Gods, you scared me," Mor presses a hand to her chest and I nod.
"Likewise," I mumble but the eldest of us just flashes a smile.
"It's my craft," She shrugs with a grin that wasn't entirely fae.
"We were just looking for the boys," Morrigan says, glancing at the window once more.
"You think you'll be able to see them?" Amren scoffs, moving past me and unlocking the sliding window before pushing it open.
We wait a moment in silence then suddenly, lo and behold, Cassian's raucous laughter from the distance cuts through it. A smile spreads over my lips at the familiar sound but it's quickly wiped away as a frigid breeze gusts in, causing the three of us to huddle closer to the fire on the other side of the room. My entire body trembles against the below-freezing weather.
The low temperature sends a shiver down my spine, resulting in an overwhelming cold sensation that overstayed its welcome. I found that even minutes after the window had been pushed shut again I had still been caught shivering.
"I think I'm going to take a hot bath, I'll see you guys for presents," I say with a soft smile, and the both of them nod, waving me off as I back away from the window and pad back to my bedroom to run the bath.
I make sure the water is steaming before I plug the drain and allow the tub to fill up, I was still cold, and taking off my clothes before I was ready to get in turned out to be a horrid idea.
"If you're so desperate for warmth you could join me in the sauna," my mate hums in the back of my mind and I startle slightly, forgetting he had the ability to see through my own eyes.
"Were you looking while I was staring in the mirror?"
"Would you think anything less of me if I was?" He hums and I roll my eyes, sending the message through the bond.
"That's not an answer, and no, it's expected of you by now," I retort, crossing my arms to provide some sort of body warmth while the tub slowly fills.
"Come join us, I won the snowball fight and I wish to celebrate," He claims and I scoff, sending my displeasure to his side of the bridge between us.
"Keep it in your pants." I toss back.
"I'm afraid we don't wear pants in the birchin." He reminds and I freeze, remembering the fact that all three of those tanned, muscular males are all sitting in that cedar-lined shed naked, but most importantly, sweaty. Gods it would feel so damned good to feel that warmth at the moment.
"Darling," He drawls, pulling me back to reality and away from my enticing daydreaming.
"I thought mates were supposed to be territorial," I state, holding my ground despite the slight waver in my voice.
"I've shared before, and you never seemed entirely opposed to my brothers either," He argues as if I was to blame for his fantasies. And perhaps I was because it would be a lie if I said I hadn't thought about all three of them at once, more than once.
"I can feel your arousal, just join us we won't bite," My mate continues. "Unless you want us to," He adds and I couldn't find it in myself to deny that kind of pleasure any longer. So I grabbed my robe and tied it tightly around myself.
"Atta girl," He muses and I slam my walls up, blocking his annoying triumph out as I make my way towards the Sauna connected to the side of the house.
I had to fight back the thoughts telling me not to do this while approaching the door, but Rhys was pacing back and forth on the edge of my mind, reminding me he was waiting with just his presence.
Before I can psych myself out, I unlatch the door to the birchin and slide it open, unleashing a gust of boiling mist. But once it clears I'm met with three tan, winged males looking up at me expectantly, entirely naked.
I attempt to avert my eyes as I step into the steaming room, looking at Rhys only as I slowly untie my robe and let it dip off my shoulders. They've all seen a female's body before, this was no different. I let my robe fall to the floor but I didn't dare bend over to pick it up, their gazes were already predatory the last thing I wanted was to tempt them. I settle onto the bench right beside Rhys, facing Cassian and Azriel.
"You still cold?" My mate hums and I look up at him, silently shaking my head. A feline smile stretches over his features. He doesn't say anything else, only tilts his head back and shuts his eyes, letting the hot steam absorb him.
I look at the log-built structure of the bathhouse, the walls compacting me in here with sweating, Illyrian warriors. I tried and keep my gaze away from the two males in front of me but the task was torture and I was weak. I hadn't realized I was staring at Azriel's rippling abdomen until he shifted his hips and my head snapped away. And I definitely didn't notice when I was staring at Cassian's arms until he cleared his throat and I opted to just look at the floor.
Rhys chuckles, and even though he was looking up at the ceiling I knew he could feel both my embarrassment and my arousal.
He slings an arm around my shoulders and the touch almost burned with how damned hot it was in this room. Or had I been imagining it? Was it me who was flushed or had it been the steam?
"You have a staring problem, darling," my mate purrs, and the smile of his two other brothers grows.
"Sorry," I frown.
"Don't be," Cassian speaks up and Azriel silently smirks.
"Is it too hot in here? We could always go back to the bedroom and cool off?" Rhys suggests, pecking up the side of my jaw. I blush at the idea of our bedroom, it was so innocent yet my mind could only morph into something inappropriate.
"No, I'm okay," I shrug him off and he pecks my cheek.
"Just let me know if you change your mind, alright?" He says, and I translate it in my head that he was giving me an escape if I needed one, between the three of them he was telling me to leave before it's too late. But gods, why would I ever take myself away from this?
I only nodded, then returned to my unsolicited staring. My eyes widen a fraction when I notice Cassian was semi-hard, his heavy cock slowly rising as his eyes run up and down my nude figure and I swallow thickly, attempting not to stare for too long at his angry tip, or the vein pulsing underneath, and perhaps it was sick of me to want to run my tongue up that very vein.
Azriel's wings ruffle and it steals my attention from Cassian straight to him. He was in the same boat as Cassian, a bead of precum pearled at the head of his cock, he was much longer than the other two males I sat with, and I wanted to know just how deep he could reach inside my throbbing cunt, wanted to feel him release in my very womb.
"Darling." Rhys's voice in my head makes me jolt, earning a few concerned glances from the others. "Do you want to tell them what you've been thinking or should I?" He hums aloud and I look up at him with concern, my brows scrunched as I shake my head in panic. "You want me to?" He suggests and again, more fervently this time, I shake my head. "Then go on, tell them," He nods encouragingly and I tear my eyes from his violet ones, looking to hazel instead.
"I," My words get stuck in my throat, I couldn't even think anymore without it being utterly lewd.
"Tell them what you want to do to them, what you want them to do to you," Rhys croons, tilting his head back and delighting in the shameful torture he was putting me through.
"I want," I'm left breathless, words come up short and I can barely conjure thoughts against their carnivorous stares.
"Spit it out sweetheart," Cassian adjusts his hips and my eyes dip down to his now fully hard member, thick between his thighs. My nails dug into the bench that I was gripping so hard I thought it might snap.
"I want to wrap my mouth around your cock," I confess and if he wasn't hard before he certainly was now, his tip angry and pulsing red.
"And, Az I want you inside me," I murmur.
"Where?" Rhys cut in.
"My cunt, please I need all three of you inside me," I beg, my body glistening with sweat as they all stare at me with equally starving expressions.
"Is that right?" Azriel finally speaks and something inside me snaps, I don't feel shame anymore, only a relentless need for all three of them.
"Mhm," I nod, biting at my lower lip anxiously at the idea of them denying me and leaving me humiliated.
"Let's give her what she wants," Rhys tips his head down to look at me.
"She's been so patient, haven't you my good girl?" He asks and I blink up at him with a nod, agreeing to whatever he wants me to.
Cassian and Azriel both stand and my head whips towards them, their hardened cocks pressed against their abdomens as they approach closer. I'm wobbly as Rhys helps me stand, before he comes behind me, trapping me in a circle of all three of them. Their frames towered over me and their dark, large wings created a shield around me so any which way I turned I was met with one of their bodies.
"Who do you want in control?" Rhys tilts his head and I look between all three of them before returning to my mate.
"You," I press a hand to his abdomen.
"Yeah?" He arches his brow a fraction and I nod.
"Then why don't you go let Az stretch you out, just how you wanted hm?" He offers and I nod. Shadows twist around my limbs as Azriel's scarred hands meet my hips, guiding me closer as he sits on the bench, his legs spread as I straddle him and the others watch.
My cunt was pulsing with need as his hands travel anywhere they can reach, spending a particular amount of time at my breasts. I look back to Rhys, spotting the two others as they simply watch, their hands fisting their own cocks. My mate nods and I align myself before slowly, so slowly, sinking down onto him.
Azriel groans, tossing his head back in ecstasy as I make my way further down his impressive length. He pinches my nipples and I mewl at the intense feeling. It was so fucking hot in this room and something told me it wasn't because of the steam. I dip further down, clenching around him as my nails dig into his shoulders.
"Fuck, you're taking me so well," He praises and I cry, he was pressing hard into that perfect bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.
"Hurts," I choke out and a sadistic smile spreads across Azriel's face.
"Yeah? Am I too big for your tight little pussy?" He purrs and I nod, my bottom lip pouting out. He grips my breasts in his large hands, groping them as I squirm, loving the way I forced myself further down onto him even though it was painful, all because the pleasure outweighed everything else.
I marveled at how there could still be more of him, my cunt was being stretched beyond capacity and he loved every second of it. My moans filled the room, Azriel's grunts joining in with every roll of my hips.
Eventually, he couldn't take my slow pace and thrust up into me, all of him sheathing inside me like I was a mold for him and him alone. He turned me into a cock sleeve as he began to pummel into me and I was left wailing into the side of his neck, unable to form words as he fucked me senseless.
"Fuck," He curses, tilting his head back as I swallow him in my pussy, dripping onto him.
"More," I whimper. "Want Cass," My words were so weak that it was a wonder how the others heard me over the lewd slapping sounds of skin between me and Azriel as he drove his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust.
Azriel shifts to the side as Cassian approaches, allowing me to look at the tall male, his cock directly in line with my mouth in my seated position.
"Suck him off, baby," Azriel grunts out, his words lustful as he watches my hesitant kitten licks down the length of Cassian's girth. I flitted my gaze up to his as I get to the base of him, then run the flat of my tongue up the protruding vein of his cock all the way to the tip, just like I wanted. He groaned at the feeling as I began to swirl my tongue around his slit, slowly forming my mouth around the head of his thick cock. Azriel continued to pummel into me so much that it was hard to focus on just Cass. I began to moan on his cock, forcing myself to take him deeper into my mouth, sloppily swirling my tongue around his member.
"Don't be shy, fuck her mouth," Rhys instructs. Cassian looks down at me with raised brows and I nod, whimpering on his dick as he grabs the back of my hair then pushes all of his length halfway down my throat. I fight back a gag and instead suck on him harder, hollowing my cheeks as my mate's best friends fuck me simultaneously, leaving me drooling from both holes.
My slobber is used as a lubricant for Cassian's cock, allowing him to easily take himself in and out from between my swollen lips.
"Gods, you're so pretty choking on my cock," He hums and I can't help but moan, sending vibrations up his spine. He groans at the feeling, his head tilting back, looking up at the ceiling as his heavy cock twitches against the soft walls of my throat.
"I want you too," I beg Rhys through our mental connection. "Please." My whines are met with his compliance, silently coming behind me. I arched up, originally for his entrance only but Azriel was now hitting so much deeper at the slight change of position.
"You sure about this baby?" Rhys asks from behind me, his large hands kneading the fat of my thighs in his hands and I nod.
"Mhm," I gargle against Cassian's cock, and the male hums with pleasure, while Rhys presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, he then runs his fingers through my neglected folds, gathering my arousal before smearing it against his length, using it as a natural lubricant until he was covered in my slick from base to tip.
He prodded at my third entrance and I gasped out, unsure if I really could take all three of them at once, I've dreamed of this situation a multitude of times but this was somehow reality and I doubted I could fit all of them.
Rhys pushed into me anyway. I moan loudly around Cassian, my mouth clamping down onto his base and he grunts, tossing his head back. Rhys felt so damned big, continuing to push into me deeper and deeper. It felt euphoric the way Azriel and Rhys brushed up against each other inside of me through my gummy walls, pushing against them beyond capacity.
Azriel's hands tweaked my nipples, bringing me back to him and how good he made me feel, but it wasn't long until it was Cassian who had my attention, gripping the base of my hair and pulling at it whenever I sucked him too hard. But Rhys stole it quickly, his member finally sheathed entirely inside of me, leaving me helpless between all three of them.
Cassian twitched inside of my mouth and I knew he was close so I focused as best I could on him, hollowing my mouth around him and sucking hard. He looked down at me in a haze of lust, his hand on my hair loosening as he spurt his seed down my throat without any warning. I swallow, my throat squeezing around him as I do so. He begins to slowly pull out but before he can get away fully I suck eagerly at his tip, milking every last drop from him, reveling in how good it tasted beneath my tongue.
He smiled lazily down at me, seeing how just much I delighted in drinking him for all he's worth. I was drunk on his seed, warm and salty and so fucking delectable. I swirl my tongue around his overstimulated tip once more before pulling away fully, letting my attention fall to Azriel beneath me and allowing Cassian to clean himself up.
The shadow singer is strategic. He knew where every perfect spot inside of me was, and he tortured the areas like one of his victims. He didn't slow for a moment, he only went faster. He had me wrapped around him first and I had a feeling he'd get me last.
I panted, falling down onto his chest, my elbows giving out. Rhys gripped my hips and held me up in an impressive arch, my back forming a crescent moon as they both continued to pump into me and I laid there like an overworked doll, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies.
I don't know how many times I had came at this point, they were both so damned good it felt like the orgasm was a never-ending flow of euphoric bliss. "Gods," I mewled. "S'too much," My pleads didn't seem to reach their ears, they were too busy listening to the noises my cunt made as Azriel pressed into me.
"Shh, you're doing so well for them," Cassian kissed the top of my head, reaching down with a large hand and immediately finding my clit. I gasped, clenching tightly around both of them, to which they both twitched inside of me, the movement foreign yet so pleasurable. Cassian began rubbing my clit in tight, rough circles with his calloused fingertips, adding so much more friction.
"Cass, tell them I can't," I look up at him with teary eyes and pouted lips.
"I'm sorry sweetheart, but this is what you wanted hm?" He kisses down the side of my face. "You wanted all of our come stuffed inside you, isn't that right?" He smiled. "Our perfect cum slut.”
I nod, my nails scratching down Azriel's chest as he rolls his hips up at a certain angle. None of them relent from their movements and I was overflowing with pleasure, my legs jolting as I writhed between them.
"Rhys," I moaned, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.
"I'm close, don't worry baby," He whispered and I nodded, a breath of relief escaping me. My hand reached up and cups Azriel's jaw, leaning down and placing my lips onto his.
He twitches at the action so I continue. I slip my tongue between his sensual lips, brushing it against any expanse I could reach, loving the way he met each flick of my tongue with a stroke of his cock running through my cunt. "Mph— are you close?" I lift slightly, looking at Azriel and he looks up at me in a haze, nodding his head. "Fill me up, please Azriel I've always wanted your cum inside of me," I purr into the shell of his ear.
"Me too," He sighs out, clawing at my waist. "Ever since I saw you I've wanted to put my seed inside of you," He confesses and I smile, delighting in how much harder this was all making Rhys which he pushed deeper and deeper into my ass.
"Yeah? Do you want to put a baby in me? Breed me?" I softly suggest and Rhys groans from behind me, my filthy words spurring him into an orgasm.
"Fuck, yes," Azriel grunts, shifting his hips and beginning to press his tip into my cervix. I cry out at the sudden change of pace, my eyes welling with tears again. Rhys' warm release pumps into me as I squeeze tightly around him, milking him of it as he slowly pulls out and Azriel goes utterly feral, bouncing me on his cock with his tough thrusts, eager to put a baby in me.
"You're going to look so pretty with your tits leaking milk," He hums. "Can't wait to get your belly all round," He adds and I let out a lewd moan at his words and how much truth they held.
"Please, feels so good," I sigh, rubbing up and down him.
"Yeah? Can't wait until I can fuck another one into you, give you a big family hm?" He suggests and I nod dumbly. "Maybe we'll all get a turn with you until you're left with all our kids," He grins at the idea. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He says as I kiss up his jaw, reveling in how fucking good it felt every time he pressed into my cervix.
"That's right, 'cause you're just our bunny who loves to be bred," He hums, cock twitching inside of me as my cunt twitches at his words.
"Yes, fill me, wanna be your bunny," I murmur onto his hot skin and he obliges with my request, his release spurting up into my womb.
I clenched tightly around him at the feeling of his warm seed continued to pump into me with his thrusts that began to slow until coming to a stop and pulling me off of him, leaving me with hot cum drooling out of each of my holes, just how I wanted.
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981 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 1 month ago
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okay, spoiled reader x rhys who you can’t escape bc you grew up together 👀
sneakpeakkk:
“You look like a slut in that skirt,” Rhys says with a smirk, his tone dripping with disdain. A leggy blonde hangs off his arm as she plants hungry kisses on his neck.
"Nice to see you too, Rhys. Taken the souls of any poor virgins lately?" you shoot back, your tone laced with sarcasm. People dance, drink and makeout everywhere in Cassian’s mansion, yet Rhys managed to bump into you of all people.
"The night is young. Too bad you're not an option," he replies, head tilting to give the blonde more access to his neck. Her obnoxious kisses and giggles makes you roll your eyes.
Women and men all throw themselves at Rhysand’s feet for a smidge of his attention. Every since he discovered in his teens that a few words can make people fall head over heels, he hasn’t backed down at all.
"And whose fault is that?" you retort, feeling the tension crackling between you like electricity.
YES OR NOO???? pls i’ll kms
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illyrianbitch · 8 months ago
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Lights, Camera, Love!
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Pairing: Reader x Rhysand
Summary: Rhysand, Hollywood's hottest heartthrob, has everyone smitten—everyone except you, his co-star. But when rumors of your feud begin to affect the show's ratings, your producers propose a last-ditch solution: a fake romance to salvage your public image and reignite fan interest.
Warnings: cocky Rhysand, just two snippy co-stars, ianthe, co-parent feysand, helion and amren as big hollywood peeps
Word Count: 4.7k
a/n: this is a lil series ive had tucked away with some inspo....lets see if ayll fw it enough hehehe. dedicated to @milswrites and @daycourtofficial bc their love for this pushed me to pick it up again
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
It was unprofessional, truly. 
You wanted to roll your eyes, to scoff and walk off set. 
But instead, you simply shifted uncomfortably in your seat, adjusting the hem of your dress as Ianthe, your overly enthusiastic interviewer, fluttered around Rhysand like a lovesick butterfly. Her giggles grated on your nerves as she leaned in a little too close, her hand lingering on his arm just a second too long.
Ianthe was known for her probing questions and flirtatious demeanor— it’s what made her such a popular source for exclusive interviews. Not only did she know the right questions to ask, but she knew exactly how to ask them in order to get what she wanted: juicy gossip, something she could feed on. It wasn’t a coincidence that her last name held such a resemblance to the word parasite. She was one. 
You didn’t want to do the interview to begin with. The upcoming release of your newest season meant various events and panels that left you unsettled and anxious. You loved your job— loved your character even more. But being in the public eye alongside Rhysand was hard. Suffocating, really. 
It felt like hours that you sat there with a practiced smile, waiting as she conversed with Rhysand. The studio lights were warm, and the backdrop behind you— a cover of the show's logo— made you feel a bit more comfortable. But still, the unease persisted, and you counted down the seconds until this interview was over and you could return home. 
"So, Rhysand," Ianthe said, her voice silky smooth. "You've become quite the heartthrob lately. How do you handle all the attention from your adoring fans?"
Your first instinct was to laugh. Your second was to roll your eyes. The third was to vomit in your mouth. You somehow resisted the urge to do all of the above, settling for biting back the rising nausea at the shameless flirting. 
Rhysand leaned back in his chair, a charming smile spreading across his face. "It's all part of the job, I suppose. Though, I must say, the fans are incredibly supportive. It's their enthusiasm that keeps us going."
Us. This time it physically burned you to not roll your eyes, even subtly. Your lips curled into a pained smile. Ianthe didn’t seem to notice the forced gesture, her gaze locked onto Rhysand as if you weren’t even in the room. 
You looked down, absently playing with a ring on your index finger. The metal felt cool and familiar, and you smiled faintly at it, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It seemed to fill your lungs with a steadying breath, one that was enough to gather yourself, to steel your resolve and endure sitting beside someone who sucked up all the oxygen in the room without even trying.
It took a few more minutes before Ianthe was turning to you with an expectant smile— perfect white teeth. Veneers, most likely. The smile was strange up close and you resisted the urge to lean in and expect them further, to search for any signs of hidden pointed teeth, sharpened to resemble that of a predator. 
You blinked, tilting your head and welcoming her attention with a large smile of your own. Certainly not as perfect, but a lot less unnerving, you hoped. 
 “Y/n,” She started, readjusting herself in her seat. “You look beautiful. It’s always nice to see you.”
You gave a small nod in acknowledgement. You’d talked to Ianthe a few times, mostly on red carpets and press events. Never longer than a minute, never past fake pleasantries and a kiss on the cheek—- from her end. 
“Thanks Ianthe,” you said, smile still plastered on your cheeks like glue. “It’s always a pleasure talking with you.”
There was a glint in her eye that told you she didn’t believe a word you said. At least you both had that in common, perhaps you could bond on your shared love of bullshit. 
 “Tell me, what's it like working alongside Rhysand? He seems to have quite the presence on set."
You paused for a moment, considering your response carefully before delivering it with a smile. 
“Rhysand is an experience. Even after years, he still manages to keep me on my toes.”
What your statement really translated to was: Rhysand was a cocky asshole. Everything was about him. All. The. Damn. Time.
"It's truly remarkable how he commands the attention of everyone in the room. It's as if the rest of us simply fade into the background when he's around.” 
Because he’s an attention whore. 
You didn’t say the last thought— as much as your body screamed at you to. 
Rhysand's smile tightened imperceptibly, a flicker of irritation dancing in his eyes before he masked it with practiced ease. "Well, thank you," he replied smoothly,  "I suppose it's just the natural magnetism of a true star."
He delivered his words as a joke, as if you both shared a similar, endearing humor regarding one another. You fought to conceal a satisfied smirk, knowing that your veiled dig had hit its mark. 
Ianthe continued to prattle on, her questions growing increasingly mundane as the minutes ticked by. There was a lull—a brief moment of respite where Ianthe paused to collect her thoughts. 
It was Rhysand who broke the silence, his voice dripping with faux sincerity. "I must admit, I've always admired Y/n’s dedication to her craft," he said, his tone almost earnest. "It's not easy to disappear into a role the way she does."
You bristled at the backhanded compliment, knowing all too well that beneath his seemingly benign words lay a razor-sharp edge. It was a surprise to you that Ianthe didn’t pick up on it, her dull eyes and bright smile still worn on her nauseatingly beautiful face. 
"Well, Rhysand," you replied, forcing a tight smile, "I suppose we all have our strengths. I can’t coast on charisma alone.”
His smirk returned in full force, a wolfish gleam in his eyes. "Ah, but isn't that what makes us such a dynamic duo, sweetheart?" he said, "The perfect balance of substance and style."
You fought to conceal a frustrated sigh, to bite back the snarl you wanted to make at the annoying nickname he’d adopted for you recently. He knew it drove you nuts, knew it made you want to call him something less sweet. 
As much as you wished to continue the conversation, to match his veiled insults with ones of your own— that were sure to be far more clever, you knew that this verbal sparring match would only serve to prolong your agony. Instead, you plastered on a diplomatic smile, nodding in agreement as Ianthe launched into yet another round of inane questions.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
It felt like an eternity before you were freed from the clutches of the interview. 
Ianthe stood, flashing you a smile that felt more condescending than friendly. "Thank you both for coming," she said, her eyes lingering on Rhysand. You watched as she scanned him one last time, eyes drinking him in like a fresh glass of wine. 
You forced a polite nod. "Thank you, Ianthe. Always a pleasure."
She gave you a look that made you feel small, but you quickly swallowed it and turned away, heading toward the exit. As much as a nice, warm bath was calling to you, you had lunch plans with Lucien and were itching to be in the presence of someone you actually liked. 
"Well, that was entertaining," Rhysand commented, a smirk playing on his lips as he caught up to you. 
You glanced at him, trying to keep your irritation in check as you quickened your pace, offering a few spare smiles to the employees you passed. "If by entertaining, you mean tacky, then sure."
His smirk faded slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. He raised a brow.  "Tacky? I was just keeping things lively."
"Lively," you repeated with a laugh. You stopped, the movement so abrupt that Rhysand almost bumped into you. You turned to face him with a flat look. “You’re a shameless flirt."
His eyes narrowed at you— a deep blue that you swore at times was almost violet. His head cocked to the side and you shrank deeper into yourself, feeling somewhat at odds and uncomfortable in his burning gaze. The smirk tugged harder at the corner of his lips.
“Well, isn’t that the whole point?”
You scowled, opening your mouth to respond. But before any words could leave your mouth, a familiar voice filled the air. “Rhys!”
A head turn led you to catch Feyre’s eye as she walked towards you, a bright smile on her face. Her eyes lit up as her gaze landed on you and Rhys, one hand holding onto the smaller one of her son. 
You watched as Nyx, quite possibly one of the prettiest kids you'd ever seen, ran up to Rhysand with a joyous laugh, opening his arms up, wide and expecting. In one swift and natural movement, Rhysand scooped him up effortlessly, his earlier annoyance instantly dissipating from his features. 
“Hey, buddy,” Rhysand said, his voice softening as he kissed Nyx’s temple.
Against your better judgment, a smile tugged at your cheeks at how brightly Rhysand’s face lit up. He pulled Feyre into a quick, sweet embrace, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.
If there was one thing you were willing to give Rhysand credit for, it was this.
His breakup with Feyre had been incredibly public. The divorce, the fallout—both of their reputations took a hit when it came out that she had initiated the divorce, later compounded by her being outed on a date with a woman from her past. Yet, despite everything, they both managed it with such grace.
Feyre was incredibly sweet. You never truly understood how Rhysand landed her in the first place, how they had been married for over five years, so deeply in love that they started a family. You thoroughly enjoyed her company, even though it wasn’t as often as you would’ve liked. She was still Rhysand’s family, after all, and you took every chance you could to avoid being around him when it wasn’t necessary. 
But Feyre was a large reason you enjoyed your job. She eased the anxiety that came with joining a cast that was already so close, essentially taking a role that had belonged to her— even though your character was introduced after hers was written off. 
It was clear that despite everything, Rhysand and Feyre had managed to maintain a bond, not just for their sake, but for Nyx’s. The love they still shared, the ease with which they navigated this new chapter of their lives—it was something you respected, even envied a little.
You averted your gaze, fingers running over the cool metal of your ring as you turned to leave, but Feyre called your name, her voice as kind as usual. 
You paused, looking back at her. “Yeah?”
Feyre’s smile was warm. You took her in for a moment, how naturally beautiful she was— how she exuded a certain energy that you could only describe as regal. A smile fit for a queen.  “How was the interview?” 
You shrugged, giving a small smile. “The usual. Ianthe was...”
You pursed your lips as your voice trailed off. There were many ways you could finish off your sentence but you weren’t sure how diplomatic you could be anymore or if Feyre would be bothered by an honest review of your interviewer. 
Feyre leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “A bitch?”
You laughed, catching Rhysand’s glance as he looked over for a moment. His attention quickly returned to Nyx and you turned back to meet Feyre’s beautiful blue eyes. “Exactly.”
Feyre shook her head, a sympathetic look on her face. “She was always so condescending with me, too. It’s because she’s desperate to sleep with that loser.” She pointed a thumb over her shoulder, jokingly but lovingly casting a glance back at Rhysand. She clicked her tongue. “Poor delusions.”
Another laugh left your lips and you nodded, suppressing a grin. “Yeah,” you drawled, “She wasn’t very subtle.”
Feyre raised a brow. “I don’t think subtly is in that limited vocabulary of hers.”
Your eyes drifted to the small interview set, where Ianthe was still standing, talking to someone and sparing regular glances over at Rhysand—a predator about to make her move. It was best for you to leave now, you thought, to avoid watching the inevitable hunt. 
“I should get going,” you said, turning back to Feyre. “I have plans. But, it was so nice seeing you.”
Feyre beamed, putting a hand on your arm. You briefly took in the ink that covered her forearm, the delicate, beautiful tattoos that you always wanted to admire further.  “You too,” she said, “Let’s have lunch soon.”
You nodded, a genuine and pleased motion. Your conversation with Feyre was the first one today that you didn’t have to fake any polite mannerisms. “I’d love to.”
Casting one last glance at Rhysand, you watched as Feyre approached him and put a hand out to Nyx. Rhysand smiled down at her, a soft, familiar look that made your chest tighten with an emotion you didn’t care to examine.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
It was 10:00 am when you were called into the production office, a room nestled in a quiet corner of the studio lot. You were tired, having only slept a few hours the night prior, and you could feel life slowly dripping back into you with each sip of coffee. The area was relatively private, shielded from the prying eyes of paparazzi, so you opted for comfort over glamor, dressed in jeans and a simple hoodie—nice, big, and comfortable.
Helion was usually meticulous about these meetings, ensuring both you and Rhysand were well-prepared and informed ahead of time. This sudden summons felt off. You didn’t know what to expect, and that uncertainty weighed heavily on your mind as you pushed open the door to the conference room.
Rhysand was already in the room when you arrived, effortlessly lounging in a chair with the kind of put-together look that only seemed to accentuate your own disheveled state. It made you hate him even more. You didn’t attempt to hide your scowl. He glanced up as you entered, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Phew, you'd think it was a Sunday and you were hungover," he remarked casually, a small smile playing on his lips. 
You shot him a pointed glare, resisting the urge to snap back and opting to take the open seat next to him, sitting back to take a sip of your coffee. 
Rhysand leaned over into your space, reaching a hand to tug at the strings of your hoodie with a grin on his lips. You swatted his hand away with a deepening scowl. "Cut it out."
He chuckled lightly, settling back into his chair. "So, what do you think this is about?" 
“No idea,” you sighed, crossing your arms defensively. You gave him a pointed glare. “What did you do?”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And why are we automatically assuming I did something?”
“Well when are you not?” You titled your head. “Doing something, I mean.”
Rhysand caught onto the meaning of your words instantly. He narrowed his eyes at you before something crossed his features. Then, he was leaning in again, a smirk on his face as he scanned your own. “Are you feeling a bit left out? You’re always welcome to join.”
You rolled your eyes, letting out a scoff of disgust as you maneuvered yourself to lean farther away from him. “You’re shameless.”
The door clicked open, and your attention snapped over as Helion entered the room. You began to offer him a smile, but the motion died on your lips as you met his gaze. 
You loved Helion— as an executive producer, and the main man regarding your public relations, you’d formed a great relationship with him. It helped that you were best friends with his son, too. But today his typically buoyant air was clouded, his expression wearing the weight of serious deliberation. It was one you could only compare to that of a disappointed father about to deliver bad news. Beside him, Amren followed like a silent storm cloud. 
Amren, on the other hand, was someone you didn’t have a favorable relationship with. She was Rhysand’s personal agent and she excluded the same energy he did— something that tasted a lot like pretentiousness.  Her sharp gaze swept the room, and you instinctively avoided meeting it.
If Amren was here, and Helion was wearing that stern expression, it could only mean trouble. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, a knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach.
You and Rhysand shared a quick, knowing glance, a similar confusion mirrored on both your faces. You straightened yourself as Rhysand offered a disarmingly charming smile. 
"What's going on?" he asked.
Helion exchanged a glance with Amren before sighing heavily. He leaned forward, slapping a piece of paper onto the table and pushing it toward both of you. 
The first thing that caught your eye was the TMZ logo— something that made your stomach drop instinctively. You bit at the inside of your cheek, your eyes repeatedly running over the headline. You looked up through your lashes to meet Helion’s expecting gaze. 
Rhysand's voice was incredulous as he spoke. "Did you... print these out?" 
You casted a quick glance of disbelief at him. Idiot. He paid no mind. 
Helion ignored the comment, taking a seat across from you as he leaned back, crossing his arms. He gave a nod towards the two copies before you. “Go ahead. Read," he instructed calmly, his expression grave. The tone alone made you shiver from its unfamiliarity. 
You picked up your copy, scanning the bolded headline and the accompanying pictures. 
FAILURE ON SET: HOW AN OVERBEARING CO-STAR FUED IS THREATENING THE VIEWER EXPERIENCE
Ianthe Parcite weighs in on the rumored feud between co-stars Y/N and Rhysand after exclusive interview.
As expected, the large printed image was a glamor shot of Rhysand and one of the interview set. You were nowhere to be found. Your grip on the edges of the paper tightened as you began to read the article.
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In an exclusive interview with TMZ, Ianthe Parcite, known for her candid critiques, has taken a stark stance on the alleged feud between Hollywood’s famed co-stars, Y/N L/N and Rhysand Darling. Contrary to initial impressions, Ianthe now reveals that behind the scenes, tensions ran high and professionalism faltered. “I sensed an atmosphere of unease and discontent,” Ianthe remarked, reflecting on her recent encounter with the co-stars. “Y/N appeared dismissive and disengaged during our interview, which is concerning for the show’s dynamics.” Ianthe didn’t hold back in her assessment of Rhysand either, noting his apparent lack of receptiveness to her questions. “Rhysand’s demeanor was noticeably distant, almost unreceptive to any meaningful dialogue,” she disclosed. “It’s unfortunate when personal dynamics overshadow the professionalism required on set.” The revelations have sent shockwaves through the fanbase, with many expressing disappointment over the potential impact on their favorite series. As speculation swirls around the future of the show, fans are left wondering if the rift between Y/N and Rhysand will escalate and if it's worth watching a show doomed for failure. 
You scoffed incredulously, pushing the paper further away from you as if its distance would minimize the anger that simmered underneath your skin. You deeply regretted holding back in the interview— regretted not tearing that pompous bitch into two.
"So she doesn't even include a picture of me and yet I'm the main one she rips into?" 
You found the courage to look around the room, your gaze landing on Helion with pleading eyes. His response was a noncommittal shrug, accompanied by a slight raise of his eyebrows. It was clear he didn't have an easy answer, either.
Running your tongue along your teeth, you shifted your gaze to Rhysand. His jaw clenched as he laid the paper on the table. "It's not even a great photo of me," he remarked dryly, "I'm too pale in it."
Your mouth fell open in exasperation. "Unbelievable," you muttered under your breath.
Rhysand shot you a glare that lingered for a few tense seconds. You matched his gaze evenly before he redirected his attention to Helion and Amren. "This is ridiculous," he asserted, "Did they seriously publish this?
A moment passed. Helion sighed heavily, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Yes. Every tabloid is eating it up.”
You clenched your jaw, feeling every muscle in your body tense with the frustration prickling at your skin. “It wasn't our best interview, sure, but it definitely wasn't that bad," you insisted, tapping a finger down on the offending article.
Amren's gaze flickered toward Rhysand, and you followed it. Rhysand shifted uncomfortably, his expression briefly sheepish before he turned to you with a defensive edge. You narrowed your eyes, tuning to face him properly.
“Did you do something?”
Rhysand rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous.” 
Your mouth fell agape and you let out a deep, angry breath through your nose. “Don’t use that word about me,” you hissed at him.  You pointed emphatically at the paper. "That is ridiculous. And you look like a guilty dog. What did you do?"
"Nothing," he finally muttered, his eyes narrowing in irritation. He shifted in his seat, pulling at the cuffs of his sleeves. 
It was Amren's voice that cut through the tension, her tone cool and calculating. "It's what he didn't do, really," she remarked cryptically, her gaze still lingering on Rhysand.
He shot her a pointed glare and you frowned, your brows furrowing to a tight knit. A faint headache throbbed at your temples. Turning to Helion for clarification, you found him leaning forward, lips pursed in thought. 
"It appears Ianthe was a bit... offended that Rhysand turned down her advances," Helion explained carefully, his words laden with implication.
Your eyes widened in surprise, disbelief coloring your features. "Seriously?" you blurted out, your head twisting to face Rhysand once more, moving with such swiftness that an ache pulled at the muscles of your neck. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Rhysand's eyes widened in response, his expression a mix of offense and confusion. "Excuse me?" he retorted, a hint of incredulity in his voice. "So you have a problem with me when I sleep with people and when I don't?"
Annoyance flared within you. "You flirted with her the entire interview," you accused, your voice raising slightly in pitch. "The one time you decide to take a vow of celibacy and it's with the one name that can tarnish my reputation?”
Rhysand scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Your reputation, of course," he muttered sarcastically. "You're such a hypocrite."
"Your actions reflect on me too, Rhysand," you shot back, "Do you ever think about that?"
He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a pinched expression. "Oh, please," he countered, "If you hadn't been sulking and throwing daggers at me the entire interview, I wouldn't have had to flirt with her to salvage it. You should be thanking me."
Your jaw tightened at his words. "Thanking you? Look what happened—"
Before you could finish your retort, Helion slammed his palm down on the table with a sharp crack. You and Rhysand both jumped at the sudden interruption, turning to face him with wide eyes.
"Enough," Helion declared firmly, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "Stop bickering like children."
You and Rhysand exchanged a reluctant glance and with a sigh, you sank back into your seat, folding your arms defensively. 
"It'll blow over in a week, right? No big deal," Rhysand said casually, his tone attempting to downplay the severity of the situation. You raised your eyebrows at the suggestion, but as hopeful as it sounded, part of you knew that this was a bigger deal than you both cared to admit.
Helion regarded him with a critical eye, his lips pressed into a thin line. Feeling an itch at your skin, you unfolded your arms. 
"He’s right," you said hopefully, running a hand through your hair. "I mean, rumors of us not being... the best of friends isn't something new. People know this."
Rhysand offered a nod of agreement. “Exactly. It's just tabloid fodder," he said, his gaze shifting between Amren and Helion with a hint of concern.
Leaning slightly on the table, Amren shook her head slightly, her eyes– a color so light they were almost silver— glowed with intensity as they swept over Rhysand and then fixed on you. The heat of her gaze made you swallow and you found yourself tempted to apologize for things you’d never done— confess for crimes you hadn’t committed. But against your instincts, you held her gaze for another lasting moment. Amren seemed to appreciate the stare and she raised an eyebrow of approval before she spoke. 
“It's more than that now," she stated firmly, her voice cutting through the air like a finely sharpened knife. "This isn't just idle gossip anymore. It's becoming off-putting. A few small rumors are funny at first, but now people don't want to watch. It's affecting our ratings."
"We can't afford to lose viewers over this," Helion added, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency you’d never heard. He was stressed— extremely so. He picked at the gold rings that adorned his hands. "The show needs a strong, united front, not two leads sniping at each other in public."
You exchanged a glance with Rhysand. Your mind raced and you settled your gaze on Helion. 
You trusted him. He always had your best interests in mind, and navigating public fallout wasn’t unfamiliar territory for you. This was fine, this was manageable. 
“Okay,” you said, the words directly intended for him.  “What do you want me to do?”
He threw a glance at Amren. 
“Well,” he started, “We need to manage the narrative. The tension between you two is too obvious. Starting with the press tour, we'll need you both to project a good connection. No more sniping or tension in public—it needs to be all smiles and cooperation."
You nodded slowly, digesting his words. Next to you, Rhysand sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. "Are you saying we need to fake being friends?"
The two agents before you shared another glance. You frowned at the exchange, an unsettled feeling brewing in your gut. Helion’s face slowly shifted into one more amused— and you watched as a grin grew on his lips, something suspicious, mischievous even. His eyes gleamed.
“Not just friends," he said, his gaze shifting between you and Rhysand. He looked to Amren one last time, who gave a small nod of approval before he continued, 
"We need you to fake a romance."
You choked on the air in your throat, your heart skipping a beat at his words. You blinked rapidly, gaze darting between Helion and Amren, seeking any sign that this was a joke or a misinterpretation. 
They were messing with you both, surely. This was some joke to make you both apologize, some horrendously unrealistic suggestion that made the idea of you two being simply friends something straight out of paradise.
But their faces were deadly serious— set with a purposeful intent etched into their features. Helion’s grin ate at you. 
Rhysand's laughter broke the tense silence, though it lacked humor as he shook his head in disbelief. His wide eyes met yours, a silent exchange of incredulity passing between you before both of you turned to Helion simultaneously. When no other words were offered to you both, the reality of the suggestion seeped in. 
As if you both registered it at the same time, both you and Rhysand rose swiftly. 
"Absolutely fucking not—" 
"—There is no way in hell I'm—"
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
GUYS IM OBSESSED IM SORRY I CANT. reader is such a hater and i think its so funny, whatever rhys does its just *eye roll* booo he sucks
i loveee them ur honor
if youd like to be added to the LCL! taglist, lmk!! <3
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 
@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 
@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg
@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124
Rhysand tag list 🫶🏻:
@serrendiipty
786 notes · View notes
copypastus · 4 months ago
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@sjmvillainweek Day 5- The Villain Wins AU
Or what I wanted to happen during the 'revive Rhys at swordpoint' nonsense. Just winnow out. What are they gonna do?
480 notes · View notes
scorpioriesling · 5 months ago
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Caught in 4k H.C.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, and Tamlin
Warnings: mdni, 18+, smut, masterbation, mentions of multiple kinks if you squint
Summary: A collection of head cannons where you catch the ACOTAR boys fantasizing / jerking it :) Just for funsies and I hope you like, lol. I also included photos for each! <3
SR’s Note: Honestly I saw this new photo / fan art of Lucien andddd I had to do something with it. The ween was staring at me… I was quite literally caught in 4k. SO, here we are, here’s an idea, I rolled with it. Enjoy, all you freaks (;
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *✧・゚:* ✧・゚: *
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Rhysand
Would absolutely be jerking off at his desk, in his office. Doors locked, he thinks no one is home.
He would start slow of course, then speed it up, thinking about you — how you looked before you’d left for downtown Velaris this morning, your hair up in that cute ponytail that showed off your pretty face.
Last time he had you at his desk your hair had been in a ponytail. His fist made for a rather sturdy hair tie.
“Ohhh,” he let out a small sigh, thinking of how your body looked as he pounded into you relentlessly from behind, your round little ass reverberating with every snap of his upper thighs against it. He squeezed his cock harder, thinking about the sounds that came with those thrusts-
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his head rolling back as he relaxed back in his chair, pumping his cock faster and faster, the image of your naked body pushing him toward his impending release. The way the desk would creak as his dick reached unimaginable depths inside you, sliding in and out so fucking fast; your body fit perfectly with his.
“Rhys! I’m back!” Your honey-filled, sing-songy voice rang out from the downstairs foyer just before he could release, and he immediately halted his movements. How long had he been doing this? He glanced at the clock — surely you hadn’t been gone that long.
The soft patter of footsteps rang out on the stairs, and he stuffed his still-hard dick back into his formal pants, struggling to tug the zipper up and attempt to conceal his erection. You’d surely notice, and he’d surely be embarrassed.
The door to the office swung open, and sure enough, you stood — bags in hand, ponytail and all. The bright smile on your face faltered when Rhys’ failed attempt at a warm greeting was recognized.
“What’s wrong, sweet heart?” You asked, setting down the paper bags and striding over to his desk. No no no, he thought. You needed to get out of here, at least until he could calm down.
“Nothing, my love.” He smiled, embracing you as you moved to sit on his lap. You shifted slightly, looking at all the papers atop his desk.
“You’ve got a lot of work it seems,” you say. He sighs lightly. “Yes my love,” he responds, kissing your cheek. The feel of you against him stiffens his cock, and he can only pray you don’t notice.
“Mhm,” you hum, shifting on him once more. Rhys’ breath comes out ragged, and you side-eye him with a smirk. “Almost the same amount as when I left earlier,” you point out. A small tinge of pink flushes his cheeks and you chuckle, kissing the tip of his nose before gazing tensely into his eyes.
“What were you doing up here all alone, anyways?” He meets your eye with an equally challenging stare. “Working.” He says coolly. You smile humorlessly, moving to straddle him instead. Instinctively, his hands cup your ass, squeezing hard. He knew what you were doing, but you didn’t care. It worked, and that’s all that mattered.
“I have something… else… you could work on, if you’d like?”
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Cassian
He’d trained with you enough by now that he’d gotten used to your… attire. The way your tight leathers clung to your body, every dip and curve of you outlined for everyone to see.
He didn’t care so much now that you’d been together so long, but something about you striding in that morning stirred something in him.
You were laughing in that vivacious way you did, usually with Gwyn and Emerie and Nesta — a lot of times, when he was lucky, with him too.
He smiled at the sound of your voice, floating down the stairwell toward the training ring. His back was to you; but when he turned and caught the sight of you, your legs bare and midriff exposed, his breath faltered a bit.
Sure, he’d seen you completely nude before, but in front of your peers? Your friends? Especially during training… he wasn’t sure how he would handle two hours of this kind of torture. He could already feel the blood rushing to his cock at the sight.
“Y/N this isn’t- You know for training you can’t-“ he fumbled. Gwyn giggled, and you rolled your eyes.
“Cassie, it’s like a hundred degrees in here today. You said we weren’t doing hand to hand anyway; what’s the harm in lighter clothing?” You shrugged. He only stared blankly at you, commanding his eyes not to drift past your collarbone.
His hand jerking his cock later that day was the harm in lighter clothing.
He let out soft breaths, leaned back as he sat on the edge of his bed.
He thought about how that tiny little tank top was stretched thin across your generous chest, how his eyes traced over the outline of your bra when you did your warm ups. Gods… how many times he’d ripped thin little things like those off of you, how many times he’d toyed with you, undoing your lacy bras you’d wear just for him…
He kept pumping, thinking about how your tits bounced when he purposefully assigned the group jumping jacks and high knees exercises, and how painful his cock grew during your session.
He thought back to the times he drilled into you on this very bed, your knuckles white on the headboard as he shoved his cock deep inside of you, your screams of pleasure only encouraging him further.
It was borderline torturous today during cool down yoga, watching you in downward dog, your spine arched, your long legs on display. Under your shorts, he could only imagine the panties you had on — maybe his favorite, the glittery kind he could easily slide down your legs with his teeth.
Usually, this was before he would lick your cunt until you shook beneath him, your slick covering his lips and chin.
Had no one else attended training this morning, he honestly would’ve taken you right there; yanked your mini shorts over that perky little ass and drove himself straight inside of you. “You want to tease me? You know what happens when you play around,” he knows you love it when he spanks you-
“Cassie?”
He stilled, his chest heaving as he opened his eyes. Lo and behold, you were before him again. You hadn’t yet changed out of your training attire, and as your eyes trailed over his form on the bed, taking in what he was doing — you closed the door behind you.
“Baby, I-“ he stammers, and you only smirk at him.
“I suppose the new outfit this morning worked, hm?”
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Azriel
It was hard, so painfully hard having a mate as beautiful as Azriel. So hard having a mate so beautiful, but was gone so often on missions that you found yourself at times taking care of your needs on your own.
You couldn’t blame him for it, you were quite lucky. But little did you know, he would need to take care of his own twice as much.
On this occasion, it was a case of… well, miscommunication. He was scheduled to be gone on a mission, and you’d told him you would stay the night with Morrigan instead of being alone in your shared home for the evening.
Of course, that was not what happened.
Azriel finished his mission early. He reported to Rhys, flew back home, and was happy to have a night off with rest and relaxation. He even lit candles in the house, for christ sakes.
He knew you were at Mor’s, and though he missed you so much, he didn’t want to take away from girls night. He’d walked in on one once and… well… let’s just say he’d never do it again.
Azriel was padding around the flat, finishing the last few sips of black coffee from his mug when he passed the sapphire door. His steps faltered, only for a moment, and he tipped his mug back to drain it, still eyeing the opened door.
Curiousity, and years of spy work must have gotten the best of him. He sat his mug on the hallway table, pushing against the usually locked door. This room was off limits to everyone, that was, except you and Azriel.
His breath caught in his throat as he made his way through the room, sitting in the plush chair near the center of it.
“Oh…. my…” he breathed. He leaned forward, his gaze flickering between the various vibrators scattering the ground. He stared, feeling unable to move — that was, other than his dick, which began to twitch beneath his leathers.
He continued to gaze, cataloguing which items weren’t in their holding places. Other than the vibrators, there were clamps missing, and maybe-
His cock fucking throbbed. He sat back in the chair, yanking on the ties and binds to free himself from his pants. Finally, finally getting his dick in his hands, he allowed his mind to wander further.
When were you in here alone? It had to be within the last few days, it didn’t look like this before he left. He slid his scarred fingers over his long shaft, thinking of you in this room, the things you’d done together in here. What you’d likely done alone.
“Mmmm,” he grunted, holding himself tighter. He thought of your tight cunt, how he had to work his thick cock into you every. Single. Time. “Fuck,” he muttered. You always looked so beautiful, a gorgeous, ruined mess for him, all tied up on the bed. Gods, the sounds you’d make, how they’d echo off the walls, through the entire house-
“Fuck baby, so tight for me,” he groaned. He usually wasn’t so vocal, preferring to hear you much more instead, but alone… he wished he could talk your ear off. Tell you to play with yourself, right in front of him so he could watch.
Gods, if he were here, watching you cry out against your vibrator thinking about him… there’s no way he would be able to hold back.
“Good girl, good fucking girl, take it, take all of it-“ he sucks in a breath, his gaze snagging on a pair of lacy underwear discarded by the bed. He quickly snatches them up, remembering how they looked last time you’d had them on.
The soft sound of the front door opening and closing pulls Azriel from his haze, immediately tossing the underwear back under the bed. He shoves his dick inside his leathers, groaning as his pants protest against his size. You weren’t even supposed to be back tonight — maybe the plans with Mor fell through.
Within minutes, he’s closing the door as quietly as he can, sure you won’t suspect a thing. He smiles lightly to himself. Hopefully, if you’re home to stay, you’ll be in the mood to finish what he’d already started.
He’s almost halfway down the hallway, heading for the foyer when a cough sounds from behind him — the other end of the hallway. He turns slowly, and sure enough; his eyes meet yours. Only for a moment though; he can’t help but notice the sheer nightie you’ve managed to slip into, breasts pushed up from your hands clasped behind your back.
“Having fun in there by yourself?” You tease, jerking your chin toward the sapphire door across the hall. Azriel doesn’t move a muscle, his thoughts racing.
“H-how did you know I was in there?” He asks, his tone low. You only giggle, taking a few steps toward him and revealing your hands at once. One held his mug, which he hadn’t noticed wasn’t on the hallway table anymore.
“Seems we’ve both forgotten to put our things away, hmm?” You wink. “I’ve lived with the Spymaster long enough to pick up on a few things, Azzie.”
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Lucien
With Lucien, things were always *almost* a little more than “friendly”. Sure, you’d been best friends for centuries now, but over time, you’d both begun to realize there was more to it than just being friends.
“It’s truly not that complicated,” Tamlin explained. “She likes you, you’re clearly in love with her — I don’t see where the problem lies?” But, Lucien still only sighed.
“We’ve been friends so long, I just don’t want anything ruined,” he’d explained. That only made his High Lord friend laugh.
“I think it was ruined, my friend, the moment you let your feelings cloud your judgement. Which was a very, very long time ago.”
Honestly, he wasn’t wrong. In your youth, you and Lucien were simply platonic; you’d grown up together, bonded over the horrors you’d both endured and helped each other through, and found comfort in relying on one another.
But over time, that changed. Suddenly, attending Balls and Galas with Lucien sent flutters through your stomach. Going to dinners with him on quiet evenings warmed your heart, and now when he brought you flowers for your table — it felt new, it felt… more.
“Well, aren’t you the loveliest couple Prythian has to offer!”
This would happen often.
One of you, or both, would hastily explain that you’re just best friends. Well, you used to, anyway. Last time the older woman in the market made a comment as such, Lucien just smiled politely and held your hand tighter, continuing on as though nothing happened.
The moment that had tipped it all though… oh boy. You’d been in the kitchen of the manor, baking apple tartlets as autumn was approaching and they were Lucien’s favorite from back home. He had joined you, wanting to learn from someone with such a talent and, honestly he just wanted to spend time with you.
“Okay, next we need flour… Lucie, that’s you,” you whispered the last part, and Lucien snapped out of his daze. His hand dropped from his chin, propping his head up on the counter as he gazed at you from across it.
“Hm? Oh, I’m sorry,” he stood, searching for and grabbing the bag of flour from behind him. You smiled, taking it from him and measuring out a few cup fulls. He resumed his position, looking to you once more.
You met his gaze, your hand stopping midway between the bowl and bag. “Lucien, I thought you wanted to help me,” you said.
“Right, right, I do,” he moved toward you, pushing up the sleeves of his tan waffle-knit sweater as you dumped in another cup. Your breath caught as his hands appeared on either side of you, the sudden feeling of his toned body pressing against your backside lightly ceasing the air from your lungs. You tried to remind yourself to resume your breathing as normal — the steady rise and fall of your shoulders measured now by his chin resting atop your left one.
“Next… we, have two eggs,” you explained. You take them from the carton, and Lucien chuckles behind you, his body so close you can feel every movement and muscle beneath his clothing.
“Allow me,” he says smoothly, his arms caging you in closer along your sides as his hands rest atop yours. “I think I know how to at least do this part.”
You allow yourself a laugh, but it comes out breathless. He does as such, cracking them into the bowl and setting down the shells.
“Alright, now next is… hey!” You squeal, turning to face him in shock. He laughs, his smile radiant as you look down your nose at the dash of flour smeared on it. You reach for the bag, but you’re too slow — Lucien has both of your wrists held tight in an instant, pinning you to the counter with his hips against yours. Your noses are mere inches apart, and he continues grinning.
“Lucien, this isn’t-“ He doesn’t let you get another word in before he smushes his lips against yours, and you instinctively soften against him. Years, you’d waited years for this — the feel of him against you, his lips touching yours. All of those almosts, all the lingering touches, all of the sleepovers and hugs that went on too long, all those times your hand held his.
Now that he’d had you once, he only wanted more.
Which was why he sat in his favorite spring meadow now, trying to clear his head.
He couldn’t.
He only thought of you.
You, in all your beauty. The way your hair would always fall perfectly around your face. How you felt, your soft lips pressed against his. How your body, he was so careful to protect, felt pressed against him that day. He hated how hard his cock was just thinking of your ass pressed against him.
When he’d caught you off guard and finally kissed you… Gods, you’d look so lovely laid across the counter, wrists held above your head in his grip. He’d worship you and kiss every inch of you if you’d let him. Tartlets be damned; he’s sure you’d taste even better.
He was smiling to himself in the afternoon light when the most beautiful voice made itself heard before him.
“I can only wonder what you’re dreaming about to have such…” You playfully tease, your sentence trailing off. His eyes fly open, and he sits upright, looking at you and trying to find some kind of response.
“No! No, I uh, was just drifting off, just lounging here, against this uh…” he pats the fallen tree trunk behind him.
“…wood?” You finish. He shakes his head slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. You giggle, dropping to your knees before him and adjusting your skirt around you. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek and he blushed.
“Well, tell me what you were thinking, then? Maybe I’ve thought of things similar.”
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Eris
It was a beautiful morning — perfect for the horseback ride Eris had planned with you that day. He knew you had a few duties to tend to into the evening, and he wanted to squeeze in a little alone time beforehand if he could. You were more than happy to oblige.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen the leaves this red so soon in the season before,” you pointed out, looking around the autumn grove in wonder. Eris looked too, his focus landing on you once more like it had countless times already that morning. He knew, of course his mate was gorgeous, but… you were truly getting the best of him today.
“Maybe the season is getting longer,” he said absentmindedly, watching how your hips moved forward and back as your horse trotted along. Fuck, if you didn’t have obligations clogging your schedule later today, he’d have you off that horse and sitting on him instead. Gods what he’d give to feel that tight, pulsing cunt throbbing on his awaiting dick-
“Ooh! Eris look! Those are honeycrisp!” You said excitedly. “We have to get some, your mother has been looking everywhere for these.” Eris mentally kicked himself for being such a … guy. He was so happy just to spend time with you right now, and of course his mind was going to sex when his absolute gift of a mate was innocently noticing the apples dangling from the trees, thinking of others while his mind was only thinking of you.
Then again, he only ever seemed to think of you.
“Anything for you, dear.” You flashed him a smile then, and his spirits lifted higher. He led his mare toward the trees, sliding off and tying the reigns as you slowly approached behind him. You were shorter than him, and though you had enough courage for the entire Autumn court, you didn’t mind a gentle helping hand every once in a while. You handed your mate your own reigns, watching as he tied them to a branch as you also made to de-saddle.
His strong hands slid around your waist, firmly placed on either side as he hoisted you from the animal with ease and set you gently on the ground in front of him. You grinned up at him then, your hands still on his shoulders as a sudden rush went through you. You couldn’t help but remember the excitement you’d felt all those years ago when he was but a simple schoolgirl crush to you; that feeling remaining even now that you’re mated to the Autumn heir.
“I love you,” he said then, his one hand cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned into him, his hands roaming over your body as you felt his pants tighten slightly against your stomach. You chuckled, breaking for air before he got too many ideas.
“Apples?” You suggested. He nodded, swallowing thickly, but you could see the lust swelling in his irises. Once all your tasks were done today, you were sure you’d be seeing more of this side of him later tonight. “Apples,” he agreed.
The Lady of Autumn was more than thrilled with the discoveries you and Eris had come back with, her gratitude for the both of you evident before she bid the both of you goodbye. Watching you go, even for a few hours felt like torture for Eris. He shook his head, cursing the dirty thoughts racing through his mind — but they wouldn’t stop.
They surely didn’t stop as he sat before the fireplace at sunset, lazily sipping the last remnants of whisky from his glass as he scanned over the court’s weekly newsletter. The words were a blur; he was just passing the time and waiting for you to come home. Waiting to get his hands on you again.
Gods, your lips had tasted so good this morning, so warm against the cool air of the grove. Fuck, that little waist… when he’d had you the other night, bent over on the bed, fucking himself into you relentlessly, his hands gripping your smooth skin-
He wasn’t sure when he set down his glass, or when his paper hit the floor, but his fingers were now gliding over his cock, throbbing with need. His head rolled back, short breaths coming out between his parted lips.
The way your body moved this morning… he let out a soft groan. He thought of you, sitting on his lap, the fire casting a golden glow around you, bouncing up and down on his length. You didnt need any other fire — you emitted light yourself, everything you did, everywhere you went. You were the sun itself.
“Y/N…” he sucked in a breath, yanking on his cock. He thought about the tiny lingerie you’d wear for him, how he could pull it down over your tits and take one of your nipples between his teeth as you rode him harder…
His groans were cut short as a soft, familiar mouth met his, and he slowed his strokes but smiled into the kiss in realization. You pulled back an inch, a few tendrils of your hair tickling his neck and shoulders as you leaned over the couch above him, taking the scene in fully.
“Did you miss me?”
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Tamlin
The sharp knock at the door startled him, his gaze drifting from the reports on his desk to the entrance of his study.
“It’s nearly ten thirty, Sir,” Alis peeked her head in. “I’m going to turn in for the night, unless there was anything else you needed.” Tamlin’s eyes widened in realization, and he looked at the wall clock for confirmation. Sure enough, 10:27 p.m. He sighed heavily.
“No, no, I’m quite alright Alis. Tell me, has Y/N turned in already?” He asked. His heart clenched as he tugged on the bond with no response. He’d told you he would be done with these reports hours ago, but, per usual to no avail. He hated disappointing you.
“I haven’t seen her since nine, Sir.” Alis said. He only nodded, and she closed the door quietly. Tamlin rubbed his eyes, shuffling his files into neat stacks and flicking off his table side lamp before heading toward the master bedroom.
Upon entering, his heart dropped even more. Of course you’d gone to bed, why wait up? He’d done this before. Promised to be done with work only to stay awake for hours into the night, not giving you the attention you’d deserved from him.
You. His mate.
His mate that, upon further inspection, must have believed he would finish on time tonight. You’d fallen asleep in a petal-laden lingerie set, barely leaving anything to the imagination. Tamlin’s lips pressed into a thin line — it was one of his favorites. Now he really felt bad.
Not only did he feel bad… he felt horny.
He stepped as quickly and quietly as he could across the hall toward the master bathroom, closing the door and leaning against the sink.
His chest heaved, and he stared at himself in the mirror, his cock growing harder and harder in his pants. He needed a shower, now.
He flipped the water on, allowing the steam to cloud in the bathroom before he cracked open the door to the hallway, just an inch so some of the hot air could filter out. The moonlight illuminated the space enough through the window — he avoided turning on the lights.
It was only after he’d stripped and gotten into the warm water that he’d started fisting his cock.
Images of you played in his mind, some recent, some from the past. The first time you’d made love in the garden — you had daisy petals all through your hair, your back bridging as it arched in pleasure while he ate you out. Gods, you tasted so sweet — sweeter than any honey Tamlin had ever tasted, in his court or beyond it.
His free hand braced against the cool tile of the shower wall, his other running along his thick length faster.
The images burned into his brain of you laid out on his desk — one he’d been spending so much time at lately with his stupid papers — your mouth open, crying out his name as he worked your clit with his fingers.
Your hands felt so good tangled in his hair… he’d missed that so much, he knew it was his own damn fault for not giving you enough of really anything lately.
“Gods Y/N,” he gritted out, his teeth clenched. The warm water ran over the defined muscles of his back, a reminder, but not quite as exact as the feeling of your fingers on him during those nights of the frenzy. That’s when you’d gotten that adorable, flowery little number anyway that you were wearing now — were you asking to be fucked like that, again?
He groaned at the thought, biting his lip in anticipation. The way you’d looked, so peaceful and delicate, your hair laid prettily on your pillow — but he knew.
Every once in a while, you wanted him crazy. You didn’t want nice, gentle, garden love-making. You wanted mating-bond, frenzy-crazed, sex. The kind that had you once drenching the sheets with your cum, squirting from you as your mate pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. The kind that had you shaking as you sat on his face, his nose nudging your clit as his tongue played in your folds.
“FUCK,” Tamlin swore, pumping his dick so hard, feeling his release building, imagining your tongue on him instead, your awaiting mouth and beautiful, round eyes gazing up at him from the floor…
“Looking for somewhere to, finish?” You asked, stepping lightly into the shower behind him. Tamlin stilled, his face flushing at being caught in the act.
“I… sweetheart I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you, I-“
“You didn’t,” You interjected, crossing your arms beneath your breasts. Tamlin’s cock jerked, his eyes roaming hungrily over your naked body. The cute outfit was something, yes, but your body, just you — now that was something he’d prefer over anything.
“…but I wish you would have.” You raised an eye brow at him.
His eyes darkened at your words and he chuckled, looking to the floor and shaking his head slowly.
“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to last very long-“
“Try me,” you challenged, stepping forward as his gaze met yours. “We haven’t yet done it in the shower.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚
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