#shut up eris damn

[lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently]

[vxsellie]

*wipes sweat from brow*

phew. finally finished updating my masterlist

[azsazz]

Cold Shoulder

Hockey!Azriel x Ice Skater!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: after sprinkles of luck and doubt i cant stop thinking of hockey!az being weird and distant and then comes in figureskater!eris to be readers skating partner and the jealousy that ensues ooooooooo

AKA Part 2 to Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2083

Other Fics in the Hockey!Az AU: Penance, Shut Out, Out of Order, All's Well That Ends Well, Brr-eakdown Shots & Spins Sprinkles of Luck and Doubt

_________________________________________

“Where’s your guard dog?” The boy you’ve been trying to ignore since practice started says. He skids to a halt at your side, his skates spraying shards of ice across the worn ice. It’s due for a Zamboni soon, and glancing at the bright red numbers ticking the time away, you have twenty more minutes of skating until you’re done for the day.

It works perfectly for your schedule because you haven’t been able to focus since Azriel left you with a somber look after sneaking into the women’s locker room before his weekend away with his hockey team.

You don’t know what had gone wrong. Everything seemed fine when he pulled you into his body and you could feel the press of his thick cock in his pants against your stomach. He’d been more than excited to see you, and you’ve never felt more important than in his arms right then. Because he’d snuck into the women’s locker room to say goodbye. He could have easily left you with a text, or nothing at all—you knew his schedule like the back of your hand by now—but he felt inclined enough to break the rules to see you one more time before he left.

You get the saying now, because if he really wanted to, he would.

What you can’t grasp is the sudden change in Azriel’s mood. He’d gone stiff against you like the flip of a switch, and it wasn’t the good kind of stiff that reflected in his jeans. It was the kind of stiffness that you clocked immediately, fed on. When his body locked up, yours did too. When he refused to meet your gaze as he said a soft farewell, you didn’t have the heart to watch his off-putting demeanor.

It's been days since you’ve seen him. An entire week, almost. You’ve seen Cassian and Rhysand in passing, but they haven’t offered anything about Azriel and you hadn’t asked.

You’re not going to be that girl, even if the prolonged no-contact with someone you thought you could fall for is driving you up the wall.

“Practice,” you bite at the boy staring down at you. You wince at your tone. You answered much too quickly and with much to emotion for anyone to believe you, and you see it in the way Eris’ amber eyes soften a touch.

You don’t want his pity. You don’t need it.  All you want right now is to get off this damned ice—because of course it reminds you of Azriel, nearly everything does—and head back to your dorm to ice your throbbing knee.

You’ve known Eris since you transferred to Velaris University. He’s a challenge at the best of times and a menace at the worst, but he’s arguably your first friend outside of your dormmates, and even then, you’re not entirely sure they actually like you or if they just tolerate you because you all live together.

Maybe you need to start being a little friendlier.

“What happened?” Eris asks softly, and your throat grows tight with emotion. He’s the first person to ask, and for the first time since Azriel disappeared on you, you want to break down and let it all out. You want to spill every consuming thought you’ve had while you were overanalyzing and you want someone to feed into your delusion as much as you want someone to talk you off the ledge of crazy.

But you can’t do that, not in the middle of practice, because as soon as you open your mouth to spill, coach is shouting at you and Eris to run through your routine again.

You sigh in frustration, but it does nothing to ease the heaviness in your heart. After finally admitting that the injury you’re recovering from has been bothering you as of late, coach decided that working with a partner would help ease the stress on your knee while also keeping you working towards your goal.

You know you’ve had the option to work with a partner, but you’ve always been solo, and it’s difficult to allow yourself to put this much trust in someone else. The last time you put your trust in someone, he left you feeling like a wet towel abandoned on the shower stall floor.

Eris is well aware of your injury and how your recovery has been going, and he’s been more than happy to gently ease you into the routine. He’s been gentle with you during tricks, and you’re more thankful than you let on. As you get into position to practice one more time before you’re dismissed, you remind yourself to thank him properly by taking him to dinner or a movie or something he enjoys.

Eris counts you off and then you’re gliding across the ice together. His hand is a warm weight against your hip but it feels all wrong. It’s nothing like the hand you want there, the one that’s a brand against your skin.

You startle when Eris’ hand finds your other hip, preparing for your first trick. You wobble on your skate and he rightens you with a frown that you brush off with a head shake, taking a breath and focusing on what you do best.

Two, three, four, jump! Eris lifts you with ease, hauling you above his head. You engage your core and pose for a beat, two, and then he’s lowering you back to the ice with a gentleness that you haven’t experienced in pairs before.

This go-around, you’re mostly practicing lifts. Coach wants you and Eris to accomplish a triple twist lift, but you’re rusty working in pairs, and you need to work up to it. Plus, your knee screams in agony during your next trick, no matter how many times you’ve done a spiral.

Gods, you’re pushing it.

But to be the best, you have to.

You’re focused so intently on ignoring the pain flaring up your leg and the tricks you’ve yet to master to notice the figure across the arena. Hockey practice just let out, and a quick glance to the clock on the wall would have told you that if you’d been keeping an eye on it. Of course, you know the hockey schedule by heart. At first it was because you and Azriel would try to align your practices to get out on time so that you could find a dark place to touch each other, but now it’s because you wanted to escape any chance of seeing the broody hockey player you’ve decided you’re giving the cold shoulder to.

Azriel’s hazel eyes latch onto you and the hand he has wrapped around his hockey bag tightens until his knuckles turn white. He doesn’t know the guy whose hands are all over you, doesn’t like the way he grabs your hips to lift you, doesn’t like how close his face is to yours, how his eyes glitter with amusement when you curse under your breath. He doesn’t like the way your body looks molded to his when you jump or the way that you stare at each other at the end of your routine, both panting so hard that your chests nearly brush with every inhalation.

He definitely doesn’t like the ire flooding his bones like magma, nor the prickling sensations of jealousy that threaten to overtake his body, march him onto the ice, and beat the shit out of the guy that’s touching what’s his.

And he most certainly doesn’t like the way that you favor your uninjured leg as you make your way off of the ice.

Azriel can’t help himself, he’s a fool. A fool for leaving you. A fool for not messaging you that he needed time to figure his own shit out, that things with you were becoming too real. A fool for every doubting whatever you had in the first place.

He fucking missed you. All weekend, all week. He should’ve found you sooner, but with the loss against the Sparrows, coach has been making the team do double practice so they’re prepared for their next game tomorrow night, and with his classwork and personal life stacking up, he hadn’t prioritized you.

He’s realizing now that he should have.

Azriel doesn’t know what he’s doing until he’s halfway to where you’ve come off the ice and are listening to your coach. Eris stands too closely to your side as you nod, and it takes you longer than he wants to admit to notice him.

He watches your pretty eyes go wide, drink him in from head-to-toe—which he secretly preens at because you still want him, even after he’s acted like a jackass all week—and then narrow in a glare so harsh his steps falter.

Surely, he knows he fucked up, but he hadn’t gauged just how angry you’d be.

Very, apparently.

Azriel’s still trying to muster up what to say when coach dismisses you. You turn to Eris instead of moving towards Azriel, and the black-haired boy bristles at that fact. He can’t hear what you’re speaking about, but when Eris graces you with a charming smile and an agreement, Azriel knows he doesn’t like that one fucking bit.

You snatch your towel from where it’s hanging over the edge of the bench and wrap it around your neck, following Eris towards the locker rooms. You have to work to keep your face neutral, but your knee is killing you. All you want to do is go home, prop it up and ice it, maybe even devour a pint of ice cream or two, but upon seeing Azriel waiting for you in the walkway off the ice, you hastily invited Eris to grab dinner with you instead.

You want nothing to do with Azriel at the moment.

He’s still glaring at your friend when you try to pass by. Azriel grabs your arm but it’s gentle, and sends a zip of lightning up your spine.

“Hands off, hockey douche,” Eris defends, but Azriel doesn’t pay him a second glance, his intense eyes focused entirely on you.

“Can we talk?”

His voice is so soft, eyes pleading, that you want to cave immediately. Crawling right back into his arms sounds like bliss right now because you know Azriel well enough to know that he’s noticed how badly your knee is bothering you, and he’d be a great caretaker. But that means he’s also noticed how he left you, by the remorse in his eyes, and how upset you are with him.

“I can’t,” you respond, sticking to your guns no matter how painful it is. Azriel’s hand is warm on your arm, and his touch alone is already battering through your weakened defenses. You lift your chin and reprimand yourself all in the same motion. “I have plans.”

“Cancel them.”

“I don’t think so,” Eris huffs, hovering by your side. Azriel’s face hardens and you manage to hide your wince when he turns his glare on your partner.

“This conversation doesn’t involve you, firedick.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, and he hates that you’re using his full name. He hates that you sound so upset. “Apologize.”

He sets his jaw, staring down at you. You stare right back, arms crossed fully over your chest. There’s a bead of sweat brimming at your hairline that Azriel wants to brush away, and it’s a struggle not to haul you into his arms and drag you back to the hockey house with him to talk.

After a few terse seconds of silence, you scoff. He’s not going to apologize to you, and he presumably liked you, there’s no way in hell he’s going to apologize to Eris for calling him a crude name.

You manage to sidestep Azriel, though you’re sure you only get away with it because he lets you. He’s a persistent man and usually gets what he wants, but not today.

If he wants anything to do with you, he’s going to work for it.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel says when you’ve taken two steps away from him. You know it isn’t directed at Eris, but at you. Your steps falter and your lip wobbles with emotion. You wonder if Azriel knows what he’s sorry for, or if he’s just saying it to appease you.

You glance at him over your shoulder, cursing your wet eyes for giving you away.

You say thickly, “Yeah, me too,” and continue down the hall to the locker rooms.

Azriel watches you go.

_________________________________________

Azriel Hockey!AU Tags:

@whyonearthisyourusernamethi-blog @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @lilah-asteria @girl-who-writes-stuff @moosemahboi @sherayuki @lyinginameadow @acourtofatboydreams @blackthorngirl @shadowsingercassia @evergreenlark @hannzoaks @bloodicka @whyshouldihaveanam3 @elle4404 @cherry-cin @quinzzelx @i-am-infinite @feeriqueivre @blightyblinders @kennedy-brooke @nyxbranwenn @dee-writes-smut @konaanaria13 @sunny1616

[katsukistofu]

PLEASE (if you feel like it) WRITE FOR AIZAWA! A SICK READER TROPE MAYBE?

Btw ur fics are so good and are part of the reason why I’ve gotten back into mha <333 I love ur writing style sm and ur hawks fics??? That was amazing

hi my love! thank you so much omg that’s so sweet, i’m happy i helped you rekindle your love for mha again lol! <3

sick (but never of you)

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. aizawa x fem reader. fluff. cursing. 997 words ★ your husband insists on taking care of you when you fall ill, despite your protests.

Not this shit again. 

You groan as your eyes flutter open for the second time after you said you were fine, then proceeded to dramatically faint in Shota’s arms in the middle of your patrol and sit up, hurriedly tossing the pile of soft blankets off your body.

You shiver despite the warmth radiating from the heater nearby. Shota must have brought it out for you after getting you home.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

The disapproving voice of your husband floats over, and there he is, leaning on the doorway with a steaming bowl of something in his hands. You perk up despite yourself. Miso soup? 

“I don’t have time to sleep off a little cold, Shota!” Your arms tremble as you try to force yourself off of the plush king-sized bed. “It’s already past nine, I have to head to the agency.”

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” Shota wraps his arms around you to trap you in place, ignoring your insistent budging. “You’re staying home today with the cat.”

“But—But they need me…” You weakly mumble in his firm grip. It was no use trying to break free, and you’re not sure if you even want to anymore with how nice he feels against you.

“And I need you here.” His stern gaze doesn’t waver, and his hand guides your head from the back of your hair, which you’re certain looks like a disaster zone right now, to rest on his chest. “It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, happy and healthy.”

Shota brushes a hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The little beads of sweat on your skin don’t bother him in the slightest.

“So let me do my job.”

“Are you using your teacher voice on me?” You grumble into the dark fabric of his sleeveless shirt. He smells warm and like all things good, as if he just came out of the shower. 

“I vaguely recall someone commenting that it was ‘hot.” Shota’s gravelly voice teases your ear and his stubble tickles your cheek as he smirks, knowing he’s won the battle when he finally feels you melt in defeat against him. 

He brushes a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay in bed, sweetheart, I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.” You say in a tiny voice, weakly slumping back into the sheets. 

Shota comes back with a spoon and a folded piece of paper. A hint of a smile tugs at his lips as he holds it out to you.

“Looks like I’m not the only one that wants you to stay home.”

Your eyes widen as you look at the get-well card in your hands.

feel beter soon!! lots of loove, eri it said, with millions of tiny hearts doodled around your name. You choke back a sob as your eyes fall onto the little stick figure drawings of you pushing the little gray-haired girl on a swing set. 

It looked just like the one from the playground nearby that you would often take her to on your days off.

us when youre not sick anymor! :D

“Shota, give me that damn soup.”

He chuckles deeply and scoots closer on the bed to feed you. You squeeze your eyes shut as a sharp throb suddenly pierces through your head.

“The room’s spinning again, that’s not normal is it?”

“No. No, it’s not.” Shota’s forehead creases in concern, bringing the spoon of warm soupy goodness up to your lips while his other hand holds yours.

You part your lips to drink it, letting the rich, comforting flavor of miso spread across your tongue.

Letting out a little sigh of relief, you’re about to lean back before Shota sets the bowl down on the nightstand to prop up the pillows behind you, making sure you’re comfortable before he picks it back up again and holds up another spoonful to your mouth.

“Come on, one more for me sweetheart.” 

“Not hungry anymore,” you huff, turning your head away from his outstretched hand.

He lifts an eyebrow. 

“We can cuddle after you take your medicine.”

“...Can you rub my tummy too?”

“You know I will.”

You sniffle and reluctantly open your mouth to sip a spoonful of the soup once again.

“Atta girl.” Shota smooths a kiss on your forehead, rubbing circles against the back of your hand. 

He reaches over to the nightstand to grab your medicine he picked up from the local pharmacy earlier, and hands a small cup of what he pours to you. 

You grimace at its cherry-colored contents and tilt your head back to drink it in one go like a shot.

“Good job. Now come lay on me.” He didn’t need to ask you twice, but Shota’s hands are already on your waist to gently flip you over him as he takes your previous position on the bed, setting you down to rest your head on your usual spot on his chest.

He strokes your hair gently, arm snug against your back while he presses you to him. “How are you feeling?”

“A little bit better,” you mumble, absentmindedly tracing the outline of his abs under his shirt. It's always been soothing to you.

Shota’s chest rumbles as he lets out a husky laugh. “Are you just saying that so you can keep tracing my abs?”

“Maybe.” You giggle against him, which turns into a cough and he firmly pats your back. His hand slides under your pajamas to rub gentle circles on your tummy like he promised. You softly squeal at the ticklish feeling of his hard-earned callouses against your skin, and Shota tenderly kisses your cheek once, twice.

All your senses are numb, but you can still feel the overflowing love behind them.

“Go to sleep, sweet girl. I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.

“Okay.” You comply easily this time, nuzzling deeper into his chest. “Goodnight, Shota.”

“Goodnight, angel. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep in the safety of his warm arms.

Maybe being sick wasn’t all bad.

[lotusunique]

Nights Like This

Armando Aretas x Fem! Reader

Mkay so while yall wait on this pt.3 of The engagement, ima give yall this lil story I been working on! Im ngl I did cut it in half this was long as HELL! So enjoy ❤️

“We should go out tomorrow night. We never do that anymore.", Kelly says grabbing her purse. "Yeah because you and your man are always boo'd up somewhere. Marcus isn't allowed out too many times in a row or Theresa will kick his ass. Mike is happily married now. And I refuse to be a third wheel on you two’s date" I explain.

“So why don't you invite Armando out.", She looks over to Armando who's looking through a case file. Since he helped take down McGrath and saved Callie, Mike tried to sort out a deal for him. He'll work out his sentence, here at AMMO, being apart of the tactical weapons team.

"Um absolutely not. He literally doesn’t know I exist in that way", I groan. "That’s not true. You just gotta make yourself known. Plus he’s kinda a dick. I don't know why you like him anyway.?”,she says damn

near screaming my secret. "Um firstly, shut up. What you wanna tell the whole world my secret?", I shush her. That’s all I fucking need. For Armando to find out I like him or WORSE. Mike and Marcus could find out. I’d never live it down.

"Invite him out or l'm gonna shout it from the rooftops.", Kelly gives an evil smirk.

"Shout what from the rooftops?", Mike looks over to us. "Oh nothing just that Y/n li-", you elbow her in the side. "That Y/n is going out with Kelly and Dorn tomorrow night", you give a tight lipped smile. "I'm so excited I could scream", Kelly smiles.

"Y'all weird as hell man", Mike says just giving the two of you a glance. Kelly lets out a laugh before nodding towards Armando's seat. "No.",you give a stern look.

"Yes!", kelly says seriously. "Fine. I'll do it before I leave later.", you give in, not wanting to discuss it any further.

- Later-

"I'm out, don't stay too long okay", Kelly says patting your shoulder before heading out, quickly shooting a glance over at Armando, signaling you to talk to him.

She heads out, the door closing, being a deafening reminder of how quiet it is since you and Armando are the only ones in the office. The dim lights giving an Erie feel. "Breathe Y/n. Now's the time to go talk to him", You think to yourself.

"Hey."you walk over to him. He looks up at you with a stare that says "what do you want". "Well I just thought that since it's just me and you tonight, we could at least conversate so it won't be absolutely boring", You sit on his desk.

"What do we have to talk about?", He says with that accent that just drives you crazy.

"Well I do technically have something to ask you", You say looking down at him. "There it is", he flashes a smile. "Stop", You roll your eyes.

"Mkay shoot.", He crosses his arms with a smirk.

"Please come with me tomorrow night. Kelly wants me to go out with her and Dorn. And I really don't wanna third wheel.", you plead.

“What’s in it for me?”, he looks up at you, placing the pen in between his plump lips. “What do you want?”,you ask, staring right down at his lips.

“What’re you offering?”, he asks, moving his rolling chair to where he’s sitting in between your legs,staring up at you with this smirk on his face like he just knows what he’s doing to you.

“I..I..uh”,your breath starts to hitch. “Use your words hermosa.”, he glances up at you through low eyes.

He has to know what he’s doing to you right? The only option is to match his energy, even though it’s all a front.

“Mister Aretas, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”,you snap out of whatever shy shit you just had going on.

“And if I was?”,He traces his finger up your exposed leg. Today was the perfect day to wear a pencil skirt.

The sound of the glass doors creaking open surprises you, causing you to move off the desk swiftly as possible.

“Sorry, I left my house keys”,Marcus walks in, not looking at the two of you.

“Hollup…it’s real dark in here. What yall in here-“,he looks between the two of you. “Nothing we were just talking”,you say quickly. Marcus looks over at Armando who has a condescending smirk upon his face. “Oh okay”,Marcus laughs. “It’s not like that Marcus”,You bury your head in your hands with a laugh.

“Look that ain’t nun of my business. Just make sure you use that latex. Cause you don’t wanna get that I’m late Text!”,he says before dapping Armando up. “What is HAPPENING”, you internally scream to yourself.

Marcus quickly makes his exit, leaving you and Armando to discuss what just happened. “That was embarrassing”,you groan. “It was hilarious”,he laughs. “No it wasn’t”, you lean against the door. “I’ll go with you. I’ve got something to handle before hand though,so I’ll meet you there”,he smiles over at you.

“Okay great. I’m gonna go home. Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow”,you nervously grab your things before heading out to your car.

[orangeheliophile]

Aizawa, as your adoptive father!

Warnings: reader has a traumatized past, mentions of death, angst, mentions of abuse, bad family past, and cursing. Reader is in the hero course, and has slight eating disorders, issues with gore, and hates seeing loved ones hurt.

Contains: platonic!Aizawa x reader, fluff, comfort, crack, Katsuki is a simp for reader, protective Aizawa. Eri is your younger adopted sister, and Hitoshi is basically your brother.

A/n: This is pretty long, lmao. I've been craving a father figure, and I love dadzawa, so this is for all of my dadzawa lovers!

☆°~ Shouta has been in love with your mother since his first year at UA. But unfortunately, she had to move away and was forced into a marriage with a man she didn't love. Shouta was heartbroken, to say the least, and lost contact with her for five years.

☆°~ She became pregnant with you while she was in an abusive relationship with her older husband. After she died in an accident, your biological father became a drunk and started mistreating you. You ran away at a very young age near when Shouta was patrolling, and that's when he met you.

☆°~ Shouta was taken aback when he saw you crying near an alleyway. You looked just like your mother, and he felt his heart shatter to pieces for so many reasons. After taking you in, he realized that your mother had died and your father had been abusing you. The poor man never felt so broken in his life, but he had to take care of you.

☆°~ After arresting your father, Shouta decided to adopt you since he had grown and had a soft spot for you. Not only because you looked like the woman he loved, but also because he could see how pure you were. Your eyes had this hope and innocence in them, and your smile was so bright when you felt happy.

☆°~ After taking you to therapy sessions, you basically clung onto Shouta. You saw him as your guardian angel and protecter. You never had to worry about anything with him because he always made you feel so safe and warm and happy.

☆°~ Shouta never thought he could love again after your mother died, but then you came along. You were like a breath of fresh air, bringing him peace and hope. Yet you were also like sunlight. Shining down on him while showing him kindness and a positive view of the world he never knew existed. Shouta felt like he could truly live again whenever he saw you. His little sunshine.

☆°~ You're the reason Shouta comes home every day. It doesn't matter if you're biological or not. You're his sweet little angel, and you're gonna stay that way.

☆°~ Shouta is very protective of you. He knows about your bad past and how you grew up in a dysfunctional family. He doesn't want you to have that.

☆°~ This man would go to the depths of the earth for you. You've managed to make your way into a special place in Shouta's heart, and he would be damned if he didn't do his best to make you safe and happy.

☆°~ Although words of affirmation aren't his best thing, he does make an effort to let you know that he loves you and that he's proud of you. This includes acts of service, quality time, and belief or not, physical touch! I think Shouta would be touch starved, but he would be too scared to say anything.

☆°~ He enjoys cuddles. Sometimes, he would drag you away from whatever you're doing and roll you up in a fluffy blanket! He would then proceed to cradle you in his lap while watching a movie on the couch with you. Sometimes, you would complain, then he would just play with your hair to shut you up.

☆°~ You have a habit of biting him when you're bored or just feel like being annoying. He could be grading papers, and you come out of nowhere and just chomp onto his arm. You call them love bites, but he just sighs and shakes his head. He secretly likes them because you remind him of a grumpy cat.

☆°~ He would definitely use petnames like honey, sweetheart, baby, silly, love, sunshine, child, etc. He means this in a fatherly way, which you like because it makes you feel happy inside.

☆°~ When you were younger, Shouta would always play games or do activities with you. Wether it was going to the park, giving you a piggyback, reluctantly getting you All Might merch, or even just talking about whatever was going through your head.

☆°~ One of his favorite games he liked to play with you was the tickle monster. His heart always swelled by your happy giggles and whenever you would try to run away from him. It never worked though, he would just scoop you up in his arms and blow raspberries into your neck and tummy.

☆°~ He unfortunately found out that you were a master at hide-and-seek. He started to panic when he couldn't find you anywhere in the house. He let out a huge sigh of relief when he found you giggling inside a small drawer. Shouta never doubted your hiding skills after that.

☆°~ You also played dead a little too well. Let's just say that Shouta found out how important you became to him after that. The poor man never thought he could cry so much when he found you laying on the ground with bruises all over your skin. You tripped and fell off your bike. You decided to take a nap on the grass near the park you were at.

☆°~ He's secretly terrified when you get hurt during hero training, missions, etc. It just gives him flashbacks of what happened to Oboro. Don't even get mention anything that happened during the war. You were both traumatized after what everyone had to suffer for.

☆°~ He hates it whenever you're in pain. Whether it is physical or emotional, he just can't bear to see his precious little girl hurt or sad. When he saw you almost during the war he felt his heart drop. Shouta probably won't tell anyone this but, he had nightmares for months seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

☆°~ When Shouta had to cut his leg off during the fight with Shigaraki, he would never forget the sounds of your screaming and sobs of horror in his ears. He felt his heart shatter at the thought of scaring you. Because not only you thought you had lost your father, you thought you had lost Katsuki.

☆°~ Shouta let you cry in his embrace when you visited him in the hospital. The pain of Katsuki almost dying twice, was too much for you. You hated seeing the people you loved get hurt. And Shouta's heart broke when you started having panic attacks after the war.

☆°~ He got a heart attack when you said that you had a crush on Bakugou. His sweet baby girl with that loud blonde!? Shouta passed out when you told him.

☆°~ He glared daggers at the explosive blonde for a month. Poor Katsuki was confused and slightly offended that Shouta made him do all of the dorm chores as well as doing extra training and homework.

☆°~ But Shouta is secretly proud of Bakugou and his growth. But that won't stop him from making fun of problem child number 2.

☆°~ He also grew a soft spot for Bakugou when the blonde practically died on the battle field in front of him.

☆°~ When he adopted Eri, he wanted to cry of how similar she was to you. He remembers how small and innocent you were and now you're growing up and you're not gonna be his little girl anymore, and, and-

☆°~ He totally doesn't wanna cry whenever he looks at your baby pictures.

☆°~ You two have rather have a playful relationship. Shouta seems intimidating and scary on the outside, but with you he's always teasing you and smiles a lot more. Even his students always seem perplexed when they see him give you affectionate headpats.

☆°~ He likes to annoy you and always snickers whenever you pout at him angrily. You're like a grumpy cat. But he can't help it! He loves cats and you act like a dramatic one with lots of attitude!

☆°~ He secretly takes pride when you get your deadpanned look from him. He feels his heart swell whenever you look like his mini-me. Hitoshi and you are learning his ways. Eri isn't there yet but she still looks cute when she tries to impersonate him.

☆°~ Shouta would definitely teach you self-defense and different ways to use weapons to protect yourself. He also teaches you survival tricks and basical yet important things like that.

☆°~ He's definitely a good cook, knowing how to make all sorts of recipes that he even wrote it all down for you to learn. Bakugou is surprised how good the food is when he comes over for the first time. And ever since he's been trying to steal your dad's recipes.

☆°~ Shouta hates it whenever you don't eat. You've had this bad habit ever since you were a child and he's doing his best to stop it. He knows that it's because of your past and he's always there to support you. Yet it doesn't stop him from worrying and occasionally, he has to ask Bakugou to help make sure you eat.

☆°~ Speaking of the explosive blonde, Shouta is rather grateful for whenever Katsuki helps out. Since he's a pro hero and a teacher, Shouta knows that he can't always be there for you, which he hates. But Katsuki has always been by your side no matter what. He knows that he can trust his student, and is grateful that you have Katsuki to lean on.

☆°~ Although Shouta is protective of you even if you're in a relationship with Katsuki, he trusts that you both won't do anything rash. Like getting drunk, doing something illegal, or getting into a teen pregnancy. Like Shouta would let that happen in the first place, lmao.

☆°~ The one time Shouta caught you two alone, he was mortified. You and Katsuki were practically making out on your bed. You gave your boyfriend a kiss on the cheek while the poor blonde turned completely red. Your father began to chase Katsuki around the house while you tried to tell your dad that he was being dramatic.

☆°~ It all ended up with Katsuki being tied upside-down with Shouta's scarf and a hit on the head from your dad throwing a shoe at him.

☆°~ Katsuki was afraid of your dad for two weeks and didn't make eye contact or say any snappy remarks. Shouta called it showing respect to which you just give your father a groan of embarrassment and an eye-roll.

☆°~ Shouta does not tolerate any disrespect towards you. If he hears any boys catcalling you, or anyone trying to bully you? He won't hesitate to expel them from whichever school they go to. Sometimes he lets Katsuki join in to deal with them depending on what these brats do to you.

☆°~ He always notices little details about you. The way you ramble to yourself, how you fidget whenever you get nervous or excited, little habits that you have that make him smile every time he catches you doing one of them.

☆°~ He's also the first person to know when somethings wrong. Your body language changes and you become more closed off. So when he starts to see the signs that's when he knows that you're upset about something or something happened to you. And you're always grateful for how observant he is.

☆°~ Shouta definitely would give the best comfort hugs and cuddles. He would just wrap his arms around you and pull you towards him, where it's so safe and warm and reassuring. Embracing him always tends to make you a bit sleepy because of how comforting his hugs are.

☆°~ I can see him teaching you how to play the bass or electric guitar. He definitely listens to alternative music or hard rock. Shouta is definitely a Nirvana fan and he passes this trait onto you.

☆°~ You two definitely gossip whenever you have free time. You could be braiding each other's hair, giving each other massages, or even painting each other's nails. Shouta doesn't really care as long as you're happy and comfortable.

☆°~ He will not let Mineta five feet near you. No exceptions.

☆°~ He treasures every single thing you give him. Drawings, father's day letters, birthday letters, handmade gifts, etc. And if you're a talented writer, best expect that he's gonna cry if you write him heartfelt letters.

☆°~ You both wear matching cat slippers as well as ear piercings. Shouta definitely has eyebrow and tongue piercings, too. He's cool like that.

☆°~ Believe it or not, he was the one who taught you how to do eyeliner. He was totally one of those grunge rock fans when he was younger. He still is to be honest, although he also likes metal.

☆°~ He does his best to help you train your quirk, wanting to support your journey of becoming even better while trying to push your limits more. Unlike his other students, Shouta secretly has more of a soft spot for you. You already try to push yourself harder to do more, and sometimes you overwork yourself. So it’s his job to make sure you also take care of yourself and make sure you know that you're already badass.

☆°~ Hizashi definitely helps take care of you, and Shouta's out in late patrol or missions. You two always have the best fun with karaoke and movie nights and also eat a ton of food that would leave you both with a stomach ache!

☆°~ When Shouta falls asleep during class, you would just walk over to him and cling onto him like a koala. You both agreed that the yellow sleeping bag was incredibly comfortable. Everyone else was terribly confused, but you both didn't care. Katsuki just sighed and shook his head.

☆°~ The first time Shouta shaved his beard and put his hair up for a hero meeting, you thought he was a complete stranger and tried to run away from him. The poor man was left confused while you ran away. Was it really that shocking to see him dressed formally??

☆°~ The first time you got your period, he panicked because you were crying while there was blood running down in between your legs. He rushed to your side when you started to feel lightheaded from the cramps and had to end up calling Nemuri to come over and help. She came over as fast as she could and comforted you while Shouta went out to buy pads, pain meds, and anything that would help you.

☆°~ Speaking of Nemuri, she was like a mother to you. And it broke the both of you when she died on the battlefield. Shouta lost another childhood friend while you had lost a mother figure.

☆°~ Nezu personally made everyone in UA go to therapy after the war. Including Shouta and his students. That's where Shouta said that he was terrified you would end up like Oboro. Because both of you were always looking to save others rather than save yourself. Shouta admitted that he didn't want that to be you.

☆°~ He will always see you as his little girl. Of course, he knows that you're growing up and becoming a hero. He will always be there to hold you as you cry or celebrate with you when you accomplish anything. Big, or small.

☆°~ Mitsuki Bakugou may want to have grand babies as soon as possible, but Shouta shudders at the thought of you growing up so fast. He also can't imagine having to teach or babysit mini versions of Katsuki. He doesn't mind taking care of mini versions of you, though. <3

☆°~ Shouta loves taking care of plants. He has a ton of them scattered around the house and has a greenhouse in the backyard, too. He taught you all sorts of plants and what they can be used for. Don't take his plants away from him.

☆°~ When he had to go to physical therapy for his prosthetic leg, not only were you there to support him, but all of Class 1-A, including Eri and the big three. Shouta was a bit overwhelmed, but he was happy on the inside.

☆°~ Sometimes him, Katsuki, and Hitoshi watch thriller or horror movies to bond. You don't do well with gore, and you would prefer to be with Eri, anyway. All three of them would just sit on the couch while eating food. You would be in another room upstairs watching Pink Panther with Eri.

☆°~ Whenever he gets injured during patrols or fights, you're always there to help him and put Hello Kitty bandaids on his wounds.

☆°~ He definitely has the strength to carry you around. Shouta's hero outfit and appearance are meant to make his opponents underestimate him. He's not weak by any means, and he even lets you sit on his back while he does a variety of push-ups. He lets you and Eri cling onto his arms while he does pull-ups, too.

☆°~ He always treats you with respect and is a total gentleman. He raises your standards high and always makes sure you know that you deserve the best of the best. Shouta doesn't tolerate any boy who's gonna half-ass anything in your relationship. Katsuki fits his standards, but he won't tell him that.

☆°~ I headcanon that Shouta likes sports. I can see him playing soccer/fútbol and being talented in tennis. Totally not saying this cuz I'm a tennis fan lmao.

☆°~ He knows he sounds super selfish when he says this, but if your biological father comes back for you, Shouta would keep you with him. You've become way too important to him and he'll be damned if he lets you go back to that son of a bitch.

☆°~ He would probably smell like sandalwood and vanilla, with hints of coffee. Very nice scent, especially when you hug him.

☆°~ Because you're his little baby princess, expect Shouta to treat you like his little girl whenever you need comforting, or if he just gets cuteness aggression. Which is most of the time. Deal with it.

☆°~ Over the years, your place in his heart grows bigger and bigger and deeper. Shouta loves you so much and is so proud to be you and Eri's father. The world could turn against you, and he would always be there to protect you. He wants you to live a long and happy life, and he would do anything for you.

☆°~ Biological or adopted, Shouta will always be your father and will always love you for who you are. No exceptions. He will care for you through thick and thin.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Soon, My Love.

Summary: Eris never thought he would be much of a poet, but being with Y/n has proved him wrong.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1845

Warnings: hints of beron being a meanie, curse words ig, uhh and a beaten up eris :( uhhh also its kinda cheesy ngl lmaoo

A/n: yall these two are adorable i cant omg 🥺 again, ily all soo much for everything🥹

anyways, enjoy!

P.S BERRY ILY THANK YOU FOR HELPING ME AND LETTING ME YAP (yes i will say this in every days post leave me alone)

p.p.s: this is again based on an indian song....

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was one of those days again. The high lord was mad again, and his eldest son had once again been dragged to the dungeon.

No one talked about why he was taken to the dungeon so often, nor did anyone question why he always ended up locked in his quarters with healers at hand for days after.

But everyone knew why.

He was beaten.

Like some training dummy, he was always dragged to the dungeon by his father to be beaten to a pulp, within an inch of death before being tossed back to his rooms.

No one was allowed to enter his chambers after these beating sessions, but being a maid, Y/n was let in to clean his room.

Being a maid, she was underestimated. After all, what would a lowly servant do? Heal the wounds faster? Give him the things he was deprived of? Love and comfort?

Yes, yes she would.

He had been summoned by the high lord a few hours before, so Y/n knew it was time for her to go check up on her lover.

She had heard through some of the older servants that Eris had been taken to his room moments prior, and that the healer seemed more calm than usual. It in turn calmed Y/n, knowing Eris’s condition was probably better than any of his previous beatings.

Broom in hand, she scurried through the winding corridors, her head hanging, her shoulders curved inwards as she knocked on his chamber doors. The door swung open, and the healer's assistant let Y/n in. Quietly, she began her work, trying to peek into the bedchambers.

She was rewarded.

He was naked from the waist up, bruises littering his torso, decorating his face. It made Y/n’s heart thud in pain, watching him hurt. But this was still better than him being covered in blood, unable to move without assistance.

"My lord, are you sure you don’t want me to heal-"

"Are you deaf, Wood?"

The healer’s mouth shut with an audible click, and moments later, he was shuffling out of the bedroom into the sitting area, his assistant hot on his heels as they left, closing the door behind them.

Y/n released a sigh, then leaned the broom against the closest wall before she entered Eris’s bedchamber.

His eyes met her, instantly lighting up, a barely noticeable tilt to his lips.

"How are you?"

He shrugged like she was asking him about the weather and not his health. "Been through worse."

She gave him a stern look. "Can you never answer like a normal person?"

"Am I a normal person?" She shook her head, tired of his antics as she stepped closer, now within touching distance. "Then I suppose I can’t."

Y/n sighed, eyeing the healing bruises on his face, under his eyes, on his jaw, his cheeks.

Her hands were shaking, but she tried to force them to still as she reached up, gingerly touching the black-blue spots.

He hissed, and she jerked back, tears in her eyes.

"Does it hurt?" She whispered, vision blurring.

"I told you, Y/n, I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive-"

"But I won’t!"

He leaned back like he’d been slapped, his eyes fixed on her. She huffed, angrily swiping at her cheeks, cursing the damned tears that rolled down the expanse of skin.

She cursed herself for already crying.

"How long, Eris? When is he going to stop?"

Eris swallowed. "My love, It’s not that easy to kill him-"

"I know that, Eris. But I can't see you getting hurt every other day. Can’t see you get beat over nothing. I- I just can’t."

Y/n sniffled, her hands roving over the multiple bruises on his torso, avoiding his gaze.

"Y/n." His fingers reached up to cup her jaw, lifting her head, the other one reaching out to grab one of her shaking hands. "I know, my heart. I know it pains you to see me hurt, but there is nothing I can do by myself. I have to wait for my allies to formulate their plan, so I can have aid-"

"And when are they going to be done formulating their plan?"

The vanserra sighed, shaking his head. "They say they are planning, and as much as I wish to ask them how long it is going to take, I cannot rush them."

Y/n glared at her secret lover. "I swear to the mother if they don’t get that bastard to his designated hell soon, I will."

Slowly, a grin spread across his inviting lips, and Y/n surged forward, burying her head in the crook of his neck. "I want you to be happy, Eris. I just want you to live freely, without worrying whether breathing a little too loud will get you in trouble."

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

He pulled her closer. As close as he could while sitting on the table, his legs swinging as she stood between them.

Eris pressed his lips to the crown of her head, sighing.

"Soon, my love, soon."

She nodded against his skin, closing her eyes.

"And when he’s gone, I can finally let the whole world know I belong to you." He teased, his breath tickling her ear.

Y/n giggled in response, pulling away as she slapped his chest. She met his gaze, the warmth, the happiness in them warming her insides.

Even the sight of him simply smiling brought her indescribable happiness. She did not know what she would do when he actually found the happiness he deserved, without restraints.

Watching him now, she was reminded of the lines in a poem she had once read in a book when she was younger, the book as worn and loved as the lines were to her.

I laugh when you sing,

I cry when you wither away,

I get drenched in the shower of your love, my love.

She had not understood how someone else’s emotions could affect the other’s happiness so much, but now as she stared at those eyes she could hardly breathe without, she understood.

She used to think being in love would be like finding yourself someone to come home to. Someone to kiss and hug and live with.

But oh how wrong she was.

Love was so much more than that.

It was having someone to tend to your wounds, someone who would do everything for you just to see that flash of happiness in your eyes.

It was waking up to a warm world on the coldest winter night, it was the first sun after long days of rain, it was the first spring flowers after a long desolate season of grey.

It was knowing that your heart, mind and soul no longer belonged just to you, and still being happy to share yourself with someone else for the sole reason that you trusted this other being.

It was knowing happiness after a lifetime of suffering, it was peace after a century of restlessness.

It was hugging Eris, giggling after long days of sobbing together.

Soon, he had said.

"I’ll go now, or someone is bound to come looking."

Eris’s mood instantly soured. He grumbled under his breath, but Y/n only laughed, standing on her tiptoes as she pressed her lips to his cheek.

"I’ll see you later, hmm?"

He nodded, his sad eyes following her back, his lingering gaze like a soft caress as she closed the door behind her.

Soon.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Everything stopped in a moment,

When you held my hand with yours .

I shall follow wherever you are going.

You’re always by my side when I look,

I am the season and you’re the breeze, Sweetheart.

Eris smiled, leaning back as he surveyed his work. He had always been much of a literature freak, but he had never thought his love for reading poems would then turn him into a poet too. He could write poetry, sure, but he had never had the desperate urge to.

But maybe that’s what love does to a person.

Ever since he’d met the shy little baker on the outskirts of town, he had begun writing poetry in hopes it would help him decipher the unknown beating of his heart, the different rhythm he had never experienced before, the unnatural warmth that made his whole body tingle every time she even blinked his way.

Of course, he had been right in that it helped him understand what this feeling was.

He just didn’t think he would be in love when he started.

You gave me all the colours of love,

And pulled me towards yourself,

Let’s get lost somewhere,

Where the time shall stop forever,

And tomorrow never comes, Sweetheart.

The day he had confessed his love- however unexpected- had been the happiest day in his life.

He’d had a nightmare that morning, of Beron finding out about the bakery his son had been frequenting a little too much for it to be considered normal. He had jerked up in his bed, panting and trying to hold back his sobs.

He had decided then that he would have to either stop visiting without letting her know his feelings, or he would have to stop visiting after confessing his feelings.

He knew which he preferred.

So he had gone to a jeweller early in the morning, picked two rings, and then ran to the quaint little building.

Y/n had been surprised when he had shown up to her doorstep, huffing as he begged her to follow him to the nearby forest because he wanted to talk, but after a lot of pleading, she had agreed.

That day, he had asked her to marry him. He had slipped the ring onto her finger, and then told her he would have to stop meeting her because it would then put her life in danger.

The next week, as he was strolling through the palace lawn, he had spied a new maid.

He had been over the moon that day, catching himself smiling at times when no one was present.

That day, Eris had made a vow to himself.

If you want, I’ll give you a million dreams,

If you’re happy then so am I

And as he had watched her leave, just a few hours prior, he had decided that maybe, rushing his allies would not be too bad.

Fuck waiting, he was tired of watching her eyes flash with sadness everytime he had to tell her that she would have to continue watching him get tortured every time his father threw a temper tantrum.

So he had written a letter just after she left, telling Rhysand to, basically, get his shit together or their deal was off.

If they wouldn’t help him kill his bastard of a father, then he would do it himself, consequences be damned.

He had promised himself that he would do anything to make her happy, and so he would.

Even if it forced him to choke his father to death.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

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@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh @ysmtttty

@st4r-girl-official @lazypostfandomer @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @yashiw

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Loose Lips — Part Two (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

Finally got round to writing a part two to this after a sudden burst of inspiration. Here is Part One if you missed it.

This isn't proofread, so sorry if it's a pile of dicks. Enjoy!

Warnings: smuttysmutsmut 🌶️

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

The forest was undoubtedly beautiful. A place of sure serenity. Somewhere you’d always found peace.

Right now, you felt like nothing short of a thunderbolt in its flawless midst.

You shifted on your feet for what felt like the millionth time, pressing your back against a tree and crossing your arms over your chest. You wouldn’t be able to relax until this meeting was over with.

Rhysand’s violet eyes flicked over you, and he frowned. “Are you alright? Why are you so restless?”

Because we’re here to meet with Eris and the last time I did that I somehow, kind of, maybe ended up fucking him—

“Fine.” You quickly answered. “Pain. My cycle is coming.”

Rhys’s eyes softened. “We’ll make this as quick as possible. Once the prick actually deigns to show up.”

You didn’t have a shred of doubt that Eris’s tardiness was deliberate — a power play. And he could play all the games he liked, so long as he kept his damn mouth shut.

As if you’d summoned him with a thought, the Autumn male appeared out of a chill-kissed breeze, his crackling-fire-and-cinnamon scent enveloping you. You tried desperately to block it out — and the sinful thoughts that accompanied it. Of bare skin. Panting breaths. Moans—

“Afternoon.” Eris smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets. He offered Rhysand a cursory glance before turning his attention on you. “You’re looking radiant today, Y/N.”

You pursed your lips. Kept your mouth shut. You weren’t getting into it with him — weren’t giving him any ammunition to spill the truth of what had transpired a month earlier.

His lips twitched as he studied you. “What, no smartass response?”

“Cut the shit, Eris.” Rhys rolled his eyes. “Share your information so we can get out of here. We don’t wish to be subjected to your tedious company for any longer than is necessary.”

He cocked his head, and you hated that you noticed he’d cut his hair since you’d last seen him. “Do you not like my company?”

You knew his words were directed at you. He’d come here to play games, and you were having none of it. He allowed his gaze to linger on you for a second longer before turning to your High Lord.

“Well?” Rhys cocked an eyebrow.

Eris folded his arms. “The King of Hybern…”

You didn’t allow yourself to hear the rest of his sentence. For the first time in your career as Rhysand’s courtier, you tuned out, taking in none of the information that was being given. You didn’t hear a word of their discussion as you stared fiercely at a fallen leaf on the ground. You couldn’t.

Because it tortured you on a daily basis that you knew what the redhead’s voice sounded like when he was falling off that precipice into blissful release. The way it had hitched when he’d groaned deeply and spilled into you. It was all you could think about, and you couldn’t bear it.

Guilt had eaten away at you ever since. Guilt and regret. You should never have given yourself to Eris fucking Vanserra.

You only felt safe enough to tune back in when Rhys turned his gaze on you. He gave a subtle dip of his chin, and you returned it — the signal the two of you shared when you’d gleaned useful information to tuck away.

Never mind the fact that you didn’t have a single clue what that information may be.

“Alright, then.” Rhys spoke tersely to the Autumn lord. “Keep me updated. I’ll be in touch when I next need to meet with you.”

“Will it be you, High Lord?” Eris’s lips turned up. He glanced at you. “Or her? I must say, I find her far more appealing to look at.”

“I’ll keep it a surprise. Something to look forward to in your sad little life.” Rhys turned to you, holding out a hand. “Ready?”

You shook your head. “You go. I promised Madja I’d collect some herbs for her while I’m here.”

A small, pathetic part of you wanted to beg Rhys to stay; to keep you company and not leave you alone with Eris. But he was a busy male — far too busy for the drama you’d created for yourself. You plastered a smile on your face.

“I’ll see you at home, then.” He smiled. And without a goodbye to your tentative ally, he disappeared before your eyes.

Eris smirked as he turned to you. “And then there were two.”

“Leave me alone.” You pulled your foraging knife out, turning on your feet. You didn’t look back as you began to kick through leaves and twigs.

But, of course, he was hot on your trail. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to somebody who made you cum not once, not twice, but three times.”

You clenched your jaw, ignoring him as you knelt down in front of a cluster of plants. You would do better this time. You wouldn’t allow your mouth to run you down a path you couldn’t come back from.

He didn’t make it easy, though. Not as you tried to focus yourself solely on gathering the herbs Madja had listed. Despite the lack of conversation — or even acknowledgement of him — Eris pressed himself against a tree and watched you, absentmindedly cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger.

How could you ever have fallen into bed with him? You were such a damn idiot, risking everything for a few fleeting moments of passion. You tucked the herbs neatly away, pushing to your feet and brushing dirt and leaves from your breeches. You turned—

And stopped as Eris appeared in front of you. He smirked. “I’m still waiting, Y/N.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For you to thank me for not spilling your dirty little secret.”

Prick. You shoved past him, ignoring his warmth, his scent.

He was at your side in seconds. “Aren’t you so relieved that I didn’t slip up and tell Rhysand about your little ride? I still could.”

Every last drop of your sensibility fizzled out. You couldn’t stop yourself from rounding on him. “Are you truly in a position to be threatening me? Both of us fucked up that night. What do you think Beron would have to say if he found out you’d bedded someone from the Night Court, of all places?”

“My father doesn’t care who I bed. I’m free to do whatever I please, so long as it doesn’t distract me from the ultimate goal.”

“Which is what, exactly?”

His amber gaze glittered, catching the sun. “World domination.”

You rolled your eyes. “How very cliche.”

You made to push past him again, to get the fuck out of there, but his hand was suddenly gripping onto yours. In seconds, he had you pressed against the body of a tree.

You clenched your jaw. “Get. The hell. Away from—”

The remainder of the sentence didn’t have a chance to so much as form as Eris’s mouth found yours.

The press of his kiss was hot and needy, and as his lips moulded with yours, he groaned.

It was that action that made you realise just how little space existed between your bodies. His hips were pinned to yours, keeping you in place, and the warmth of him seeped into you as your breasts brushed his chest. Within seconds — mere seconds of him kissing you — you felt him harden in his breeches. His groan seemed to vibrate through every part of him and into you.

And then he was tearing his lips from yours. Staring down at you. “Fuck, you taste amazing. I’ve thought about nothing but this,” he rolled his hips against you, making sure your attention went exactly where he wanted it, “for over a month, now. Tell me you’ve been just as crazed.”

You had been. Perhaps more so. But you swallowed. “I can’t.”

That didn’t deter Eris from slanting his lips over yours again. His tongue swiped out, brushing against the seam of your lips, and you were powerless against your need as you opened your mouth and allowed him to dip in.

You gasped at the first taste of him; something cool and crisp and smoky. And you knew you were done fighting, telling yourself you didn’t want this, as you grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him more firmly against you.

He grunted as the hard evidence of his arousal pressed against your stomach. His lips slid from yours, dragging slowly over your cheek, and then the cut of your jaw, down to your neck.

“You’ll be the death of me.” He panted, pressing quick, chaste kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Tell me to stop.”

You swallowed, knowing there was no chance in hell of that. “No.”

And that single word — as much as it pained you to say it — dragged such a delicious, guttural noise from him, that you forgot entirely about who you were and why this was wrong. Nothing else mattered in that moment other than what Eris was doing.

Your mouth went so very, very dry as he pulled away to meet your gaze. And then lowered himself to his knees before you.

He was utterly uncaring of the dirt and leaves that stuck to his breeches as he clasped your legs. And the hard press of his hands felt scorching through your own pants. You wouldn’t be surprised to find that he’d turned the clothing to mere ash he dragged his palms up the backs of your legs and cupped your ass.

“You’re fucking mouthwatering.” He dipped in, pressing a kiss to your stomach through your shirt. “I need to taste you.”

“Holy gods.” You cursed, your head falling back against the tree. “Do it, then.”

Like a male entirely starved and desperate, his nimble fingers moved to the buttons on your breeches, making quick work of getting them undone. The second they were loosened enough, he yanked them down with a feral command that had heat rushing between your legs.

And he could scent that. You knew it. He inhaled deeply, and his responding moan was sinful.

“This is wrong.” Your voice was weak, useless, as your head fell back.

“So wrong.” Eris hooked his fingers into the thin waistband of your undergarments. Tugged them down..

You made no move to stop him. “And stupid. And selfish. And—”

Your words turned into a moan as he dipped in and dragged his tongue up the very centre of you.

A satisfied grunt left him, and he lifted your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. It had you at a better angle, closer to him, so he could feast on you.

And feast, he did.

His mouth and tongue were renowned for wielding wicked, barbed words, but this was a different language entirely. His fingers dug into your legs as he buried himself between your thighs, licking and lapping and fucking devouring. He made his way up, scraping teeth over your clit, the sensation both pleasant and unpleasant. Before you had a chance to react, he soothed over the area with the pad of his tongue, and a bolt of white-hot pleasure surged through you.

“Oh, gods.” Breathy words escaped your lips. Thank the Mother above for the mammoth tree at your back that gave you the support to move as you wished to move, undulating your hips, grinding against Eris’s face.

And from the way he growled and feasted on you harder, you knew he liked it. He was becoming coated in you, painting himself with your wetness. With the roll of your hips picking up pace, he didn’t falter once.

“Look at you.” He breathed, eyes flicking up to drink you in. “You’re a fucking vision.”

“Stop talking and make me—oh.”

Your hips bucked as he slid a finger into you, the friction of his callused skin like a sinful bite you wanted more of. You didn’t know if you vocalised that, or if Eris simply read you well, but he quickly added a second finger, pumping them in and out.

“Just as you felt around my cock that night.” He panted. “Squeezing me like that.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair, needing to just…to just grab onto something. He seemed to like it as you pulled, and he thrust his fingers faster in return.

“I’m going to make you come on my fingers.” His tongue stroked at you. “And again on my cock.”

Somewhere, some steeled part of you wanted to give a smartass retort. But you were far too gone, splintering into tiny shards of pleasure against that tree. There was nothing, in that moment, besides the sensations Eris Vanserra dragged from between your thighs. No long-lived feuds or tentative alliances or right or wrong.

It was just him. His fingers. His tongue.

And it sent you hurtling right off that blissful cliff edge into release.

As you came, you thought you maybe shouted loud enough to frighten the birds from the trees. Your pleasure was a fearsome force as it stormed your body, your mind, your soul, until you weren’t sure who you’d be without it. How you could survive not experiencing this weightlessness again.

And Eris…he seemed to enjoy your pleasure as much as you did. Even though his cock strained through his breeches, touched by nothing but torturous fabric, his tongue and fingers continued to guide you through your climax, and he peppered in filthy, scandalous words that you were far too fractured to make sense of.

Until he pulled back to look up at you again. “I’ve wanted you since the second I first saw you.” He said.

You weren’t sure you could deny, any longer, that this truly had been going on for that long. It didn’t start with that one night of bad decisions driving you into bed with him. It had been years and years of thinly-veiled threats and barbed words and insults and vitriol soaked in lust.

Every bit of hatred you’d ever directed at each other had been to try and avoid this — giving in to a carnal need that had existed between you since the first ever time your eyes had met.

You knew you didn’t have that strength, that resolve, anymore.

“I need you inside me.” Your voice was rough, raw. You reached down, shamelessly yanking Eris to his feet by the fabric of his jacket, not caring that your desperation showed. “Fuck me.”

You wanted it — him — hot and hard and fast and certainly not gentle. You wanted the bark of the tree biting into you as he pounded you from behind. You wanted him roaring as unguarded as you had.

“You’re a little brat.” Was all he responded. And then he was kissing you again.

You allowed him the control of your lips as your fingers tore at the front buttons on his breeches. Nothing was moving fast enough, and you were hot all over, desperate to feel him pulsing deep inside you—

Y/N. I need you back here.

Rhysand’s voice in your head was akin to be plunged in ice-cold water. Damn daemati. You froze in place, your hands falling still.

Eris didn’t seem to notice as he kissed his way along your jaw.

Y/N. Rhys spoke into your mind again. Get back as soon as you can. Need to discuss Azriel’s report.

You sucked in a breath, planting your hands on Eris’s arms. You pushed him off you. “I have to leave.”

He paused, surprise crossing his face. “What?”

“I can’t — I’m needed back home.” Clarity was dawning on you more and more, paired with guilt. You’d fucked up again. You tried to shake the feeling off as you yanked your underwear and breeches up in one go. “I can’t do this.”

“Seriously?” Eris cocked an eyebrow. “You’re leaving now?”

It was an effort not to glance down at the very unsatisfied bulge still pressing through his breeches. “Rhys just spoke into my thoughts. He needs me back.”

“How convenient.”

Of course he didn’t believe you. You had to admit, it didn’t look great — getting an earth-shattering orgasm out of him and then leaving.

But perhaps it was a blessing from the Mother. Perhaps she was stopping you taking it too far a second time.

“Believe what you want.” You pushed past Eris, buttoning your breeches up. “I answer to my High Lord first and foremost.”

“Go running back to him then.” Eris shrugged. And if you weren’t mistaken, you thought that a strange quality lay in his tone. Perhaps hurt, or…or jealousy. “He says jump and you say how high, right?”

“You have your High Lord, Eris,”  you smoothed over the wrinkles in your clothes, “and I have mine.”

He pressed his back against the tree, watching with an unreadable expression as you checked yourself over.

And then the corner of his mouth tipped up. “You’ll be back, sweetheart.”

You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “That is a very, very bad idea.”

You winnowed out of there before he could respond.

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 2

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): light angst if you squint. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You paced back and forth awkwardly around your room, not sure what to do with your time. Normally, you'd give Riley a bath and see her off to bed -- but not tonight. Her father had come home during dinner today, and you almost couldn't believe your eyes when he'd materialized before the both of you in the dining room.

Gods, you'd never seen her so excited to see him come home in all the time you'd known the two. She truly missed him when he was gone, just waiting to see her dad come home at the end of the day. You understood; to be honest, you worried some nights when he would be gone late, always apologizing like his timing was the end of the world. He failed to realize that it was his safe return you were more concerned with.

You paused, shrieks of laughter heard from the opposite end of the Wing and you smiled to yourself. Padding over to your open doorway, you peeked your head out, listening as Eris' faint voice spoke with his daughter, saying something that had her giggling once more before you heard the distinct sound of her door latching shut. You retreated back into your room, trying to find anything to busy yourself as the sound of his shoes drew nearer toward your room.

"Could I offer any help with the last of those?" Eris asks, leaning casually against the doorframe as he gestures toward the stack of heavy boxes piled in the corner of your room. You turn, crossing your arms and then uncrossing them, not quite finding a comfortable position.

"Um... well, I could probably get them, tomorrow." You shrug, biting on your lower lip. Eris' eyes study your face for a long moment before he chuckles, walking over to the pile and pushing up his sleeves with such grace. He lifts the top box, his arms flexing under the weight as he adjusts his grip under the edges.

You try, really, really hard not to stare.

"I'll leave these outside to be picked up in the morning, unless you needed them to be kept for something?" He asks, and you all but shake your head before he heads out of your room, leaving you in awe. You shake your head, get it together. That is your boss, for Gods sakes. You take a deep breath, pushing your hair behind your ears before reaching for the next highest box, barely reaching the upper rim before its contents nearly spill over on top of you.

"Cauldron damned-" your curse is cut off when the box doesn't completely dump out on to you, but is caught haphazardly between your hands and one of Eris'. His other one is wrapped around your waist, preventing your impending collision with the floor.

"Woah! Woah," he says, his voice much closer than you expected and you open your eyes you'd inadvertently squeezed shut. He loomed over you, holding you so close to his chest that you sucked in a breath, your eyes widening when they met his peering down at you.

"I'm..." you made to stand, and he lifted the cardboard from your hands. "I thought I could help with that one." You said sheepishly. He chuckled, glancing sidelong at you.

"Always trying to do everything," he muttered. "Honestly, I'm just surprised to hear Y/N actually say a bad word out loud."

You set your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow and ignoring his teasing remark.

"This is my mess, anyhow. I was just trying to help."

He turns, heading for the door once more.

"Allow me to help you for once, hm?" He says, winking and walking out. You roll your eyes, irritated at how warm your cheeks feel. You flit about the room, putting random smaller items away and folding a few articles of clothing as Eris makes the last few trips. When he comes back in for the final time, he sits on the edge of your bed with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

You look to him, noticing his exhaustion from the day again. "Thank you," you say, and he looks to you again. He offers you a small smile, leaning back on his hands.

"For all that you've done, helping you move a few boxes is incomparable." Your lips curve upward as you place a few more of your skirts inside the drawers of the dresser, averting his eye. After a few shared moments of quiet, he speaks again.

"This room... its... I'm glad someone is using it again." He says, his hand running softly over the duvet. You glance at him, his fallen expression puzzling as you go about tidying up.

"Oh?"

He's quiet again before he looks at you. "I used to avoid coming in here, after... well, after Selene left." He says quietly, and you pause. The air feels thick, you try to keep breathing evenly as your mind races.

"She... the two of you didn't share...?"

"No." He whispers, looking at the floor. "She thought only mates should share a room."

You shoved the drawer closed, walking slowly to the bedside and sitting next to him.

"I'm sure this is common knowledge by now, but our marriage was simply a transaction, a sign of goodwill between our courts." He let out a humorless laugh. "No magic, golden thread there."

For everything he'd done for his court, all the battles he'd won, every fight he'd fought and all he'd witnessed... this was a subject he rarely discussed, as it seemed tomdrag him down the most.

"Eris..." You said softly, reaching out a hand timidly and placing it on his arm. He braced lightly against the touch, and you leaned closer. "I'm so sorry that you were treated that way-"

He sniffed, his hand rubbing along his jaw quickly before he stood, your outstretched hand slowly retracting with the distance between you two.

"It's alright. Nothing for you to worry about, anyway." He flashed a humorless half-smile, and you stared up at him with concern. You could tell it was a tough subject for him, and you definately didn't want to pry; but he didn't exactly have many other people to open up to.

"Well... alright then." You say defeatedly. He nods, turning and heading for the door. He looks over his shoulder only once more before closing the door behind him.

"Sleep well, Y/N."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Apple juice, please?" Riley asks, and you pour her a fresh glass, delivering it to her awaiting hand. She sips quietly, then blinks a few times when you sit down beside her. "Oh -- thanks!" She smiles.

You nod, silently praising her good mannered habits. You could still remember when you arrived at the Forest House, the little spitfire was ordering people around at the ripe age of three. "Give this!" and "Do that!" was all she managed, and though her heart was pure, you did encourage better etiquitte; luckily, it stuck.

"Daddy said he have a surprise," she swung her legs under the table, some of her juice swishing in her cup. You raised an eyebrow.

"Did he, now?" You weren't sure what she was talking about, or if there really was a surprise at all. Eris had made haste this morning, rushing past you this morning on his way out the door. He'd barely kissed his daughter goodbye before he was on his horse and halfway to the border-

"He did! He said he had one." She insisted, and you nodded in understanding. What it could be, you had no clue.

"Well, lets finish our dinner so we're ready when he gets home, yes?" You suggest, and Riley agrees, jamming the last of her chicken nuggets into her mouth and chewing with maximum effort. You shake your head, smiling at just how normal the girl was. You were just glad she found joy in chicken nuggets still, and didn't request challenging dishes every meal quite yet.

Insisting on wearing her fluffy pink footie pajamas, Rylie then sat in your lap on the couch, her stuffed beagle clutched in her hands as you brushed out her wet-clean locks.

"Braid it pretty?" She asks, and you leaned in, kissing the top of her little head. She grinned, holding her little beagle's head to her lips and kissing it's head just the same.

"Anything for you, Riles," you say, getting to work on the long strawberry strands. She sits very patiently for a four year old; that is, until you've secured the band at the end of your work and the front door creaks open.

"Daddy!" She's up in an instant, running to the door with glee and clinging to her father's leg the moment she spots him. You stay seated a moment longer, listening from the living area but not quite ready to see Eris yet. After the tense conversation last night, you couldn't help but feel... awkward, after the conversation.

After a few minutes, Riley has retreated to the living room looking rather dejected. Your brows knit as she stalks toward you, her beagle hanging limply from her fingers.

"Daddy says bedtime. You take me please?" She says, looking down at the floor. You frown, your hands lifting under her arms as she wraps her legs around your waist.

"Of course sweetie," you try to sound upbeat, but she only lays her head on your shoulder. You pet her head, wrapping your other hand around her to keep her propped up against your waist as you make your way to her end of the Wing. You look around as you go, not seeing any sign of Eris on your way. He literally just got home, what the Hell could he possibly have to do right now?

Once you reach her room, you place her gently atop her plush duvet, her eyes half closed when her head touches the pillow. You pull a loose blanket over her legs, knowing sometimes she gets cold at night, and kiss her little cheek one last time before moving toward the door.

"Y/N," she whispers. Your eyes meet hers in the dim light, your fingers stalling as they reach for the glowing tableside lamp.

"Yes dear?"

"Can you please read? Please?" Her bottom lip trembles. "D-daddy always reads... he reads my book..." she sucks in a breath of air, and you rush over to her bed, taking her little hand in yours.

"Yes, of course honey!" You say, hoping she will feel better. "I would love to read you a story," you look left and right, searching for any tomes near her bed. She lifts a limp hand, her finger pointing to the book resting at the opposite end of her bed.

"You'd like that one? The Kissing Hand?" She nods, one tear slipping free and running down her cheek. You hastily grab the book, and she scoots over, making a space for you to lay beside her. You scoot close, reaching an arm around her and she snuggles close as you flip open the book. Her little fingers wipe her tear from her cheek, and you begin to read.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren't sure when you'd drifted off, but when you slipped back into consciousness, your back ached from its cramped position on the small bed. You looked around, the darkened room coming into view as well as the peacefully sleeping babe next to you.

You must have fallen asleep reading to her, you thought. Surely you'd left the lamp on though; its glow would come in handy now as you tried to slip silently out of her embrace, sneaking out in absolute darkness. At least the door was still cracked open.

You'd stumbled around quietly enough and made it down the hallway to the kitchen, the clock on the wall coming into view.

Four in the morning. Gods.

You kept walking, feeling along the walls until you found your bedroom door, and let yourself inside.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You woke up that morning to the delicious smell of cinnamon and sugar, the comfort of your plush bed surrounding you as the first light of day drifted through your curtains. You yawned, stretching out your arms and slowly opening your eyes.

Ahh, what a lovely morning.

Morning. The sun was out.

You threw the covers off of you hastily, your bare feet hitting the cold wood floors in a rush as you lunged for your door handle. Riley was surely awake by now, and surely starving. You bounded down the hallway, your steps faltering when you heard her familiar ramblings from the kitchen and registered the smell of food wafting through the air.

As you approached, you watched in pure shock as Eris stood over the kitchen island, his hand holding his daughters as he helped her spread icing over a tray of steaming cinnamon rolls, smiling and talking along with her. He hadn't noticed you walk in; but she sure did.

"Y/N! Finally! You're awake!" She squealed happily, and you forced a smile, still confused by the scene before you. Eris looked up then, his eyes meeting yours only briefly before he went back to the treats he was making.

"Good morning Riley," you said hesitantly, stepping closer toward the island. Eris' eyes flicked up again, snagging on the silk pajamas you'd changed into before collapsing onto your bed last night. You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Good morning. Eris." You said, and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"Morning Y/N." He said plainly before turning to Riley, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the ground.

"Bunny, why don't you set the table," he handed her the silverware and a few plates. "And we'll join you in just a few minutes?" She nods, skipping into the dining room, as Eris braces his hands against the countertop, his eyes locked on yours once more.

You stare back, shrugging when you can't understand the point of standing in silence. "What?" You ask. He sighs, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for the... discussion. We had. The other night, it was... highly, unprofessional." He nodded, looking down at the pan of cinnamon rolls once more. You raised an eyebrow, a soft laugh erupting from your lips and causing him to flick his gaze to you again.

"What is funny?" He asks, seeming a bit taken aback.

"Nothing, no," you say, smiling softly at him. "I just... Eris, I live in your home. I spend every day with your daughter. I think we're beyond professional, aren't we?" You say. He cocks his head to the side, a small smirk curving the side of his lips.

"I suppose we are, then."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Daddy. These cimanim rolls. Are. Delicious!" Riley grins with delight, Eris' expression a mirror of his daughter sitting next to him at the table. You watch the two and your heart swells; one day, you could only dream of having something so special as that.

"Why, thank you Princess!" Eris says, and she holds her chin high. You shake your head at her, and Eris' eyes meet yours, his face giving away exactly what he's thinking. After a few more quiet moments, he speaks up again.

"Bunny, I wanted to ask you about doing something fun today," he says, and Riley immediately perks up.

"Fun?" She asks, and he nods.

"In the Town Square, there is the Autumn Festival, and it would make me very happy as your daddy if you would go with me-"

"Yesss!" She shrieks, every single one of her teeth showing as she smiles in excitement. You can't help but feel so happy for her -- she deserves time with her father, and he's finally home to spend it with her, doing something she had been longing to do anyway.

"Ohmygosh I can't wait! I will wear my Princess dress so everyone knows I am a Princess, okay," she explains hastily, only pausing to take a sip from her glass of milk.

Eris nods, looking to you. "I figured you may appreciate at least a day off as well," he adds quietly, and you offer him a gentle smile. Truly, you didn't need one, but you appreciated his consideration all the same. Riley doesn't quite catch the incinuation, though.

"Y/N, you have to wear a dress. You can't borrow from me this time because you're too big," she says, hopping from her chair. "You have a dress?" She asks. Your eyes meet her dad's and his mouth opens to answer first.

"Bunny," he starts. "I don't think Y/N was going to come today," he explains. Rileys brows knit in confusion as she looks at him.

"Why not?"

"Well," he says, trying to tread lightly. "Maybe Y/N has other things she would like to do today. It's okay though; just me and you can go." He says, but Riley looks to you, her eyes looking you up and down.

"What... what else do you want to do though?" She says, and you chuckle.

"Riley, honey, today you can go have fun with your daddy, alright? Me and you play here everyday," You reason with her. She doesn't let up, and Eris studies you from across the table.

"Daddy -- can Y/N just come too?" Riley says. You sigh, looking to Eris for help, but he only stares quietly at you, a small smile on his lips.

"I really will just stay here-"

"Yes." Eris says, and you meet his eyes, Riley spinning in happy little circles at the end of the table. "Y/N can absolutely come with us today."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[rosenecklaces]

That's such a disgusting theory I don't even know if I want to get deep into all the problems involved in it but you said it all pretty well.

Yeah let's blame Azriel of his crush/friend worst trauma as if she didn't fucking remembers that day and exactly which ones participated-where there

Yeah Yeah let's get the benefits of the doubt to the man that has been untrustworthy since his first mention on the book, has shitted on women and had been sexually inappropriate to them, use his high fae position to get out of situations and certainly could had been in the moment his brother lover was killed off and has done nothing to even lift a finger for his mom despise ALLEGEDLY be the biggest mamma's boy ever in existence; for sure let's blame the man he calls horrible names merely for his fae race and fae position and not the white man that literally everyone in text worry by how much of a fake bitch he is to EVERYONE including to his family

"Rhysand is abusive!"

"Nessian shouldn't be together!"

"The IC is evil!"

"Tamlin wasn't THAT bad to Feyre!"

"Feyre is a bitch for what she did to Spring Court!"

"Mor is lying about Eris!"

"Amarantha needs sympathy cause her sister!"

"Tamlin turning to Hybern was justifiable."

What the FUCK is going on in this fandom.

Do ya'll like and understand what kind of books these are or not?!

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Bad Idea, Right? - Part 5

Eris x Reader/Azriel’s Daughter

Azriel has a heart-to-heart with Y/N. Eris gets the cold shoulder. After a night out, Y/N learns that Eris has yet another secret.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual content

A soft rap at the door brought me to consciousness. Slowly I sat up, rubbing my palms over bleary eyes in an effort to wipe the heavy weight of sleep from them.

Azalea must have snuck out of bed at some point early in the morning. I huffed a laugh at the kid clearly valuing sleep as little as privacy.

“Come in.” My groggy voice rasped, barely more than a whisper.

A pause and then the door slowly opened. I knew this was inevitable but gods, first thing in the morning?

“Hey…” my father said, quietly padding in with a tray in his hands.

“Hey...”

With a shrug of his shoulders he gestured the tray toward me “I, um- I brought food.”

at least the awkwardness was mutual.

A half smile crossed my lips. “I see that.”

Sitting the tray down next to me, he looked down at the edge of the bed, “May I?”

Best get it over with, I suppose.

“Sure.”

He sat, situating his wings so that they wouldn’t knock over the tray. “I know chocolate croissants are your favorite. Your mom offered to make them but I know how much you love the ones from that bakery down by the Sidra so….”

“Thanks, dad.” Avoiding eye contact, I stared at the pastries before me.

We sat in silence for a moment, my eyes finally meeting his. “Want to share one with me?”

Relief crossed his features at the invitation. “That would be great. If you don’t mind.”

I rolled my eyes. “When have we not shared our croissants with eachother? Besides, I see you included two tea cups - or were you expecting me to dual-fist them? I typically reserve that for shots.”

He chuckled. “You used to have tea parties with your toy pegasus, you know. Your shadows would lift the tea cup and pastries to its mouth. That extra cup could have been for anyone.”

“Oh gods. How embarrassing.”

He stared off for a minute, a flash of longing overtaking his features before returning back to the croissants. “Not at all. Your imagination, Y/N, you’ve always known how to sprinkle joy into life. The bond you created with your shadows at such a young age is nothing to be embarrassed of. It’s so different than when I-“

His voice cut out, those damned memories too painful to verbalize.

I extended my hand, resting it atop one of his scarred hands. “I know. I hate them for what they did to you.”

“I don’t need you to hate them for me, love. I just love you and, selfishly, hope that a little bit of that joy was sparked by the environment you grew up in.”

“Are you fishing for a compliment, father?”

His lips quirked as he gestured toward himself. “Me? Never.” he mocked.

I squeezed his hand lightly. “I love you, dad.”

We ate our croissants in companionable silence. Once finished, he paused, taking a breath as if to brace himself.

Aaaand here we go

“So, you and Eris Vanserra?”

“Ugh.. do we have to do this?”

“Can’t we talk about it a little bit? I just want to know that you’re okay.”

Dramatically, I grabbed my pillow and let out an exasperated scream into it.

“I promise this is as uncomfortable for me as it is for you.”

“I really don’t want to discuss it.”

“Please, Y/N, don’t shut me out. You don’t have to give me details, I don’t think I can stomach details anyway. Just, please tell me you’re okay. That you’re safe and comfortable in his care?”

“I care for myself dad. I’m an adult female completely capable of making my own decisions. This was MY choice. He has never pressured me into anything that I am not comfortable with. Consent is very important to him.”

He sat contemplatively for a moment. He was carefully toeing a line that he didn’t wish to trip up.

Running a hand along the back of his neck with a wary expression. “As long as you are safe and happy. That’s all I can ask.”

“Happy.” I scoffed to myself.

Agitation immediately shifted my father’s expression “You’re not happy?”

“I’m fine dad. But, don’t expect him to come to family dinner anytime soon. I’m not sure that I’m going to pursue things further with him.”

“What happened?”

I looked to the side in an attempt to hide the hurt in my expression. “Nothing.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sensing the finality of my statement, he sighed. “Okay. If you change your mind, just let me know.”

He stood up, kissing my forehead as he picked up the tray, placing the remaining tea on the side table. “Please talk to your mother about her vision. She’s worried about you too but isn’t as… persistent as I can be.”

“Spymaster, indeed. Speaking of - tell the sneak she can come in.”

“Wh-“ he began, clipping the question as he opened the door to find my sister’s ear pressed up to the other side.

“Azzy, we talked about this.” he chastised.

“I was just listening to see when I could come in! You said it’s rude to interrupt conversations.”

“Touché.” he called over his shoulder as he walked down the hall.

Azalea’s little feet padded over. “Are you okay sissy?”

“Yeah, Azzy. I’ll be fine. Want to have a tea party?” Her face lit up with joy at the question, little wings twitching in excitement.

——————

That evening I was reading a particularly salacious smutty novel and - as if he had a sense for such things - as my fingers dipped below the band of my silken shorts a note appeared on my night stand.

“I’m lonely without my favorite little Shadowsinger spread out on my bed.”

“I’m sure you are.” I muttered to myself, eyes rolling impossibly far back into my head. I chucked his note into the fireplace and did not deign to respond.

Two hours later another note appeared.

“Don’t be shy - come spend the night.”

“Awww. I’m sure your hand can keep you company. Get fucked, Eris.”

“Are you offering, little one?”

Why’d he have to fuck up our perfectly suitable arrangement with his scheming? Truly there was nothing more I wanted than to go bask in the warmth of his bed while he worshipped me from head to toe but…

Ugh. Once again, another note lost to the fireplace. Let the conniving prick stew on his choices. He’d eventually get the message whether I wrote to him or not. He can keep his secrets just as I can keep my hands and mouth among other assets to myself.

——————

Two days and five flirtatious unanswered notes later, I needed to get out of the house. Considering I was pissed at my obvious choice for release, I had to seek an alternative source of entertainment.

Unfortunately, Nyx was out of town “on emissary business” aka “fucking around in the Spring Court.” but at least Adish was available for a visit to Velaris. He winnowed in from Day bringing a gorgeous female with bronzed skin, braided black hair, and golden-brown eyes. A male with dark skin and braids accompanied them, his eyes appearing even more golden than the former, and muscles that could have been handcrafted by the gods. Damn. I had heard of these two, two of Adish’s close friends in his court, but he’d certainly undersold their beauty. Rhys must have approved them for a visit to Velaris with Adish. Luckily for me - I was suddenly available to mingle.

“Y/N” Adish introduced the female first, “This is Hemera, Hem for short.” The female held her chin high before giving a warm, confident nod of greeting. Gesturing toward the equally beautiful male, Adish continued, “This is Apollo - who is rivaled only by Helion in his reputation with the ladies and males of the Day Court.” The tall, broad male only grinned - a beautiful, devious thing - in return. Oh, he was well aware of the amount of eyes lingering on him in this establishment. I couldn’t blame them. Hell, I was one of them.

The night included many shots, mostly compliments of those hoping to garner the attention of Hem and Apollo. And maybe it was the liquor talking but Apollo only seemed to have his eyes on me. After several “accidental” brushes of our hands and thighs - I garnered up the nerve to pull Apollo out onto the dance floor, with Hemera and Adish closely behind.

The dance floor was a blur of colors and bodies and music and motion. My backside pressed tightly against Apollo as his considerably large hands gripped my waist. And unless he had snuck a large dagger onto the dance floor with him, something as hard as steel was pressed against my back.

Damn, those hands correlated quite nicely if my drunken assessment was to be relied upon.

Turning to face him I was greeted by his gorgeous smile and pupils blown wide with lust. The very evident scent of arousal flooding my nostrils. He wanted me, bad. And I just so happened to feel particularly uncommitted at this point in time.

We swayed against eachother for a while longer before Apollo tilted his head in silent question toward a dimly lit corner of the bar, a corner I knew quite well from past endeavors. I only smirked in return as he took my hand and led me over.

Nobody could see us as my shadows shrouded us effectively blocking any view that the darkened corner hadn’t already obstructed. His mouth was on mine in an instant. My hands roamed his broad chest as one of his hand found the curve of my ass and another caressed my jaw. I opened my mouth, allowing access. He was so fucking attractive. My body practically screamed for more but something in my chest pulled as a pang of emptiness tore through me. Fuck it felt so-

So…

Wrong.

“Wait.” I pulled away.

Apollo instantly pulled back staring at me in question.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…”

Disappointment briefly flashed over his features before he gave me a sad, knowing look. “Adish warned me before coming here that you might be otherwise engaged - but when I saw you. Can you blame me? I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in a mirror. Please accept my apologies for taking it too far.”

Relief flooded over me. I owed this man nothing, but his understanding was reassuring. “I appreciate it and I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in the mirror as well. Can you blame me for falling into temptation? You have nothing to apologize for considering I was rather eager to sneak off with you.”

He only extended an arm, “Come on, let’s get back to our friends.”

We headed to the dance floor but that damned pang jolted through me again. Was it guilt? Fuck, I couldn’t feel guilty. Eris and I were not committed and he certainly didn’t deserve my guilt after keeping secrets from me.

The only logical solution to numbing this foreign feeling was-

“Another round of shots!” Hem called out, walking up beside me. She nudged me playfully, “You look like you could use one my friend.”

I fluttered my eyelashes toward the gorgeous female. “We’ve only known eachother a few hours and you get me! You really get me.”

The shots appeared before us and we cheers’d eachother before throwing them back. The rest of the night filled with dancing and more shots, until Adish proclaimed he was going back to the inn he was staying at.

“Why not just stay at Nyx’s place? He’s out of town.”

A gleam shone in his eyes that only meant trouble. “I don’t think Nyx would appreciate the activities that would be taking place tonight in his bed, among other surfaces.”

I looked behind him to see Hem and Apollo staring hungrily toward him.

Oh.

Oh!

“We’d offer an invitation but you seem to be missing a certain Uncle of mine too much to partake.”

“I refuse to respond to such nonsense. Regardless, you feel too much like family at this point. Which, gross, don’t read into that - but I’m going home. Thanks for coming out to cheer me up tonight.” I kissed my friend on the cheek before exclaiming loudly enough for his companions to hear. “As your High Lord himself would say: Don’t do anything Helion wouldn’t do!”

——————

Typically I would winnow home but alcohol and winnowing are not my specialty. I’ve ended up in too many wrong places over the years and had far too many shots tonight to even consider.

My body was overheated from the liquor and dancing and my heart still kept getting hit with waves of…. Ugh, feelings.

Like a raving lunatic, I strolled alongside the Sidra. Cursing Eris, bargains, feelings, great sex, and everything else that came to mind. Fortunately, Velaris has a very low crime rate and I wouldn’t have to worry about anybody with ill intentions approaching the sweaty female shrouded in manic shadows, stumbling around and talking to herself.

No matter how hard I’d try, my thoughts kept circling back to him. And I must have hit the alcohol way harder than I realized as a blur of red came into view, coming closer and closer to me.

“Adish?”

“Hello, little one.”

The unmistakable seductive voice that I knew far too well caressed my senses as a warm, muscled arm wrapped around my shoulder.

“Eris.”

“It appears you’ve had a lot to drink, darling. You’re literally stumbling in the wrong direction. Let’s get you home.”

Fuck. How much did I drink?

I opened my mouth to speak but pain tore through my stomach, nausea rolling through me. It was all I could do to turn away from Eris and puke onto the street.

“I…. I need to sit for a while. I can’t go home like this.”

“Come on Shadowsinger, we’ll go back to my place then.”

“Fuck.” I muttered. My vision spinning. “I can’t make it home! Let alone” I paused as another wave tore through me. “Back to the Autumn Court.”

Eris paused for a moment, seemingly in a moment of uncertainty before releasing a long sigh.

“I know love. We’ll go back to my apartment - it’s two blocks from here. Think you can make it?”

My only response was to turn away and throw up onto the sidewalk again before blurting out:

“What the fuck?”

———————————————

Tags: @b0xerdancer @myheartfollower @ang-taylorsversion @acotarobsessed @uniquecolorwizard @justasillylittlegoofyguy

[lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently]

i love sunlight that makes peoples eyes glow i love the feeling of the wind in my hair i love the ocean breeze i love clouds and sun i love the sound of leaves rustling i love grass i love the sound of dogs barking i love the rain i love nature. love is everywhere. hope this helps

[mudandmire]

Azris one-shot

listen. listenlistenlisten I don't know what this is, I just thought it would be nice to see Eris drool over some thick, meaty Azriel. Not my intention to make him sound like a well-cooked steak but alas.

I wrote this in a very short amount of time so if there's typos or issues my bad but also I'm trying to get better at *gestures vaguely* not caring so much that it stops me from posting :D

(be warned there is smut, semi-graphic but I'm still virgin-esque at this so not fully)

*drops this and runs*

...

Eris had never truly thought of it—like looking at the sun straight on, it would probably burn him to do so. But that didn't mean he didn't see. Search the differences between two bodies and try and imagine where his hands would go on the soft curves of a waistline. The blush pink of kissed cheeks and satin skin framed by long, silken locks of hair. He could like it, could find the beauty in it, of course. But it was more like looking at flowers, the glimmer of sunlight on the surface of a lake. Such beauty was expected, known, and only to be looked at and admired—nothing to touch, certainly nothing to desire.

This body was different in all forms.

The camps had melded at some point, Eris had ended up somewhere different this time and honestly he was too stuck in his head to find his way back. The inky blue black of the night court wear became more common, Eris realized distantly he was somewhere in or close to the night court camp. Yet still, it wasn't enough to send him back-pedaling to his own camp, his own tent.

A male had come crashing to the earth, and Eris had seen skin. It was only once he had shut his agape mouth with a snap that he recognized the cobalt blaze of stones on the Illyrians chest and hands. Azriel—because surely he was forever cursed to only know that name, and so intimately that he knows the taste of his blood in his mouth yet doesn't know the shape the tattoo on his chest takes.

Azriel was yelling, tendons stark against his skin, sweat and a streak of blood across his forehead and jaw. His leathers were torn, from throat to nearly the waistline of his pants, hanging in ribbons around his body as he shucked off the arm of the male he was helping stagger to a medic. Something about the anger, so present it seemed to rattle his whole frame till those exposed parts of his body was jolting with it. Eris knew in some way that Illyrians are carved differently than autumn fae, even more so than high fae, yet it doesn't stop his mouth from going dry at the full look at just how different.

It's meat—he thinks it half-crazed. A healthy thickness to Azriel's chest that brings a curve to his pectorals, flexing with his movements as he shoves away one of the males, still shouting. Eris follows the path easily down, like his own trail of droplets of water or sweat or whatever remains staining his skin that glossy bronze. The weight of those muscles continues further, bunching at his abdomen which heaves and flexes and the hollow of his navel catches the light—

Shit. Cauldron boil him there are no words strong enough to describe the pang of lust that strikes him blind right between the eyes. It must've traveled all the way down the line of his spine because suddenly Eris can't breathe, can't look away, can't do anything but stay stuck, standing and feeling for the first time what he thinks is the white hot flame of desire flickering at the base of his spine. Some tease, some gentle prodding of 'you see me now?'

It's not like he didn't know. Eris had dragged Azriel's unconscious body enough times to know how impossibly heavy he is. It doesn't matter—seeing it, even partially bared to him like this, may just be the thing to send him to his knees.

He wants it.

Cauldron damn him to Hel, he wants.

And he's never been good at it, getting a hand around himself and reaching some pinnacle, some kind of precipice of relief so grand it's all the males his age could whisper and talk about. But he thinks, a little wild, a little starved, he thinks if he had the full weight of that body between his thighs. If he had it, warm with blood and flush with heat, maybe keeping the stripe of dried blood on his stubbled jaw—he thinks he could do it. Find the kind of release the soldiers in his army seem to find easily between the legs of a female.

And that's—that's the problem. That's him, in the depths of the problem.

It's amazing how many realizations he comes to within the span of what can be no longer than a couple heart beats. But in one moment Eris is watching the way Azriel's powerful body moves, muscles flexing under the bronze glint of his skin, and the next they're meeting eyes. Eris's body had gone from bubbling with a new kind of heat to icy with dread. The kind he only knows in window-less cells, iron chains.

Azriel meets his eyes, even from paces away, and Eris curses to himself as he feels his stomach swoop. Trying to dip closer to where that flame had rested even though it's hardly anything more than a dimming ember now. His eyes narrow, and Eris just hopes he can't see any of the lingering tinges of lust in his own gaze. That everything he felt had been kept in his head away from the environment outside.

For a moment he thinks he has succeeded in maintaining that careless facade, Azriel's own gaze darkening and his mouth tightening with a scowl. But then something happens, faster than Eris can understand, and he watches through what feels like fog as something crosses the Illyrian's face. His head tips, predatory and watchful, and begins to walk over.

Eris breathes out harshly, refusing to admit that it comes out trembling, that there's a part of him shaking deep behind his rib cage in fear that Azriel saw. Saw what Eris tried to hide and is coming to make an example out of him.

Eris draws himself up, chin pointed and looking down his nose as Azriel gets closer.

"Can I help you?"

Azriel doesn't say anything, the silence unnerving, as he just watches Eris from under the shadow of his lashes.

"Behind you." He says, Eris has to work to ignore the swell of his pectorals in front of him.

He swallows hard, off-balance, "I—pardon?"

"Tent, behind you, it's empty."

Eris starts to catch on—and it may not make a lot of sense, he may be welcoming his own murder, but there's something in the way Azriel's looking at him that brings the white hot flame back. The bubbles in his stomach, a clench at the base of his spine.

-

He's the first one in, the first one to cross the threshold of the tent but Azriel's not that far behind.

It's a different world when he steps through, maybe just a single moment in that world. A moment where Eris is allowed to look, to want.

And he wants.

-

Azriel's big, from up close and far away and right between his thighs the breadth of his shoulders is enough to send a tender ache through the muscles of his legs and the joints of his hips. It's messy from the start—trying to stay quiet and Eris coming to the mortifying realization that he's miserably bad at that. So Azriel keeps his mouth on his, or slides his fingers between his lips when he asks for lubricant, or presses his whole palm down across his mouth when he slides in.

All of him—Eris feels the length of him against the base of his spine and shivers hard—inside, pressed close, gods how can a body be so hot and not burn to ashes? And from there it's a chase. Eris keeps his teeth pinched in the meat of Azriel's scarred palm, and Azriel keeps his noises buried in the crook of his sweat-damp neck. He's all muscle, and there's no soft dip of a waist to cradle. There's no satin skin or delicate blush. Azriel is heavy, his stomach rolls over itself when his hips thrust back in, skin and muscle and Eris swears he can feel the flex of it all on his own neglected arousal.

His hands are—gods his hands—they're rough and worn, yet every now and then one will leave their position branding his hips with petal-shaped bruises and come up to cradle the back of his head. They run gentle over the back of his thigh when he pries him apart further—asking for him to open his body more, thighs to hip to where he's split open and raw at the center of his being.

The scars themselves are finger-prints.

These aren't the hands of anyone, of any male. Eris knows now, as the heave of their chests gets dire; the air hot and wet between their mouths, the constant, hard push of his cock right up into that one place that sets his belly on fire—he knows he'll forever remember this touch. Know these palms blind he swears he's been branded by the lightning-shaped ridges of them.

There's a moment where Eris loses sight, fingers locked in silken raven hair, as his hips move in harder, faster, his eyes rolling back to the point white sparks dance behind them. It's the end, some primal part of him knows what's coming even if he's never reached pleasure like this, and yet he digs in further with his nails, his heels as if keeping Azriel close will stave off the inevitable.

It does the opposite, Azriel's grunting low in his throat, animalistic and wanting and Eris sighs a soft moan when he feels the indentation of teeth at the hinge of his jaw. The noises their bodies make is nearly enough to send him off, but he's hanging there, just at the edge, just waiting.

Azriel's biceps flex, reaching under Eris's thighs and pulling them out and up so the backs of his knees rest in the crooks of his arms. He's folded, bared even further than he possibly thought he could be—feeling the roll of his own skin against himself and wondering when it got so wet. Gods does it do it, though. Azriel keeps himself closer than ever, hot breath against his cheek as Eris claws at him, a wail muffled behind his own hand, and feels the break through his body.

The angle, the pressure against that one perfect spot, Azriel's warmth and weight drawing so much heat from him, into him, everything snaps in one moment.

Azriel is there through it all, when Eris futilely arches up in some form of welcoming the lightning branding his spine, and when he comes back down. Still coiled tight under Azriel's working hips, though they falter in pace again, and again, and once more before Azriel curls over Eris's sweat-soaked, shaking body like the protective limbs of a tree.

The weight of his heaving stomach pressing against Eris's own makes him swallow hard, carding a trembling hand through Azriel's tangled locks, wondering if the scent of sex will stick to him like sunlight or if he'll only smell like he would after a battle, a sparring match. For a moment it's easy, gentle, breathing together and trying to find the balance they had completely lost once they crossed the threshold of the tent. Eris doesn't mind, the company is nice, even the ache of the stretch which has grown into a dull throb is pleasant.

It's the after he's dreading. The unsticking of their bodies, because Eris is warm here, and he knows deep down when Azriel pries himself away something vital will be ripped from him.

But it's a quick tryst in an empty tent, they both have things to do, and Azriel still has dried blood flaking on his cheeks. Eris supposes he can keep the memory of it for himself, just a little while.

...

(can you tell I didn't know how to end it)

um so like Hi. It's been a minute I blame college and my abysmal time management. First azris thing I've written in m o n t h s and man am I rusty but wow it feels good to get these two freaks back on my page 😎

[talesof-old]

spare me | e.v. & a.s.

pairing(s): poly!azris x fem!reader

warning(s): slightly suggestive if you squint, mentions of beron vanserra, implied torture/injuries, fear of abandonment, fear of loved ones being hurt, saying i love you a little too early maybe, nonsexual nudity

word count: 1k

a/n: this is more angst than fluff but it ends on a happier note lmao

masterlist

poly!azris + angst & fluff for my little celebration

Being immortal was never easy.

With centuries spread out before you like the gaping mouth of some terrible beast, it threatened to consume every one of your relationships. Each would, most likely, be as fleeting as a mortal’s life. Fragile, finite.

Perhaps it was better to end things before they got too hard. It allowed for allies where there would be enemies.

But as you gazed into the amber eyes of your lover, your very soul ached at the notion. His eyes were lit with something wild, feral in the way only a cornered wild animal could be. Sorrow lined your face as you reached for him.

Beside you, Azriel lounged across the bed, his relaxed body betrayed only by the tense expression he wore. His wings were limp on the sheets: open, vulnerable.

You shouldn’t have said it. As soon as the words left your mouth you’d wished you could take them back. I love you had been easy. The frantic patter of your heart and the pain in your chest was not. Naked and satiated, tracing circles over Eris’ scars, you’d spoken your feelings.

Azriel rested a hand on the dimple of your back, supportive in his silence. You knew he’d felt the same, but perhaps he wasn’t so much of a fool to voice it.

“You can’t-“ Eris’ words brought you back to the present. He scrambled out of bed, hands trembling as he dressed. You pushed yourself up, thighs protesting, and watched as he tried to pull himself together. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, muscles tight with tension.

“You can’t. You don’t.”

A sharp wave of anger shot through your blood. Who was he to dictate how you felt? Even if he did not feel the same.

“Don’t say that. Don’t tell me how to feel.” A humorless laugh echoed through the all too quiet room. The hair on your arms stood up, and Azriel finally allowed himself to move up from the bed.

“You don’t love me, you’re simply interested in the pleasure I bring you.” Your gut churned. Frustrated tears built up in your eyes but you will them away, voice sharp as you respond.

“You are more than a puppet to be used, Eris.”

He inhaled sharply.

The pause was all you needed, slowly removing yourself from the bed without sparing a sideways glance at your other lover. His shadows were curling around your limbs as if to keep you safe, but there was nothing to protect you from.

Eris stood still, barely breathing, as you approached. A wall of heat seemed to guard the air around him. You didn’t care. You reached for him, cool fingers making contact with burning skin, and simply stayed there. He would not push you away out of fear. And his was so palpable, the taste bitter on your tongue.

“If you don’t want this, tell me how to un-love you. Spare me the torment of wanting you but not having you.” You shook your head. “I would fight for the rest of my life for you, Beron Vanserra be damned.” His eyes fluttered shut as your hands skimmed over his chest, rising to cradle his jaw in your hands. Tension fell from him in waves.

“I can’t lose either of you.”

You sighed, stepping closer even still. Shadows slithered from your wrists to caress his pale skin. He kept his hands at his side, fists clenched as if to keep from touching you.

“My love,” you whispered. “Look at me.”

Moments ticked by. Azriel’s shadows were wound with tension, skirting over your figures in place of your partner’s hands.

Eris opened his eyes, red rimmed and glassy. You stroked the hard planes of his cheeks with your thumbs. The faintest freckles dusted the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, and you ached to still be lying in bed and tracing shapes between them.

“I’m not afraid of saying I love you, Eris Vanserra. Every fiber of my being longs for you. I don’t care if Beron himself hears me now.” He tensed all over again, even as you attempted to coax him out from behind his mountain high walls.

“You are worth it. To me, you’re worth everything.” A few stray tears fell from his eyes, though he didn’t make a sound. In a rush, you were wrapped in his embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

“I’ll only cause you pain, suffering even.”

You huffed a laugh, tangling a hand in his hair.

“That’s my choice, love. Besides, it’s not you that’s causing me pain.”

He drew away, only to be swept up in the thick arms of your shadowsinger. They were much less affectionate with one another, but even Azriel understood that physical touch grounded Eris more than words ever really did. Eris, while taller, curled into the embrace.

“You’re stuck with us, fox.” Azriel’s low voice had you quirking up a brow.

“Come back to bed.” Unable to argue, Eris allowed the two of you to undress him, guiding him back to the silk sheets you’d begged them to purchase.

You curled up into his left side, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder.

“You’re worth more than you think, you have to know that.”

Eris’ fingers laced through yours, squeezing your hand gently. Azriel pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“We’ll be free one day, fox. I promise.” You glanced up, watching their exchange with soft eyes. Eris slotted his mouth against Azriel’s, sighing as he deepened the kiss. You rested your head on the redhead’s shoulder. A dark wing rose to cover your bodies, twitching as you lightly scraped the membrane with your nail.

Azriel huffed, pulling away from Eris and glancing down at you with a teasing gleam in his hazel eyes. “Needy.” You closed your eyes, nuzzling into the warmth of your partner. Even if this was destined to end sooner rather than later, at least there had been moments of love, of tenderness.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[danikamariewrites]

can i please request acotar men x reader who wears skirts and thigh highs🖤 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Omg they’d lose their minds bc they have no self control

Warnings: slightly suggestive, some smut

Rhysand

All he can do is stare at your thighs

He bought you the outfit he just forgot about it, how could he forget that skirt???

Rhys would drop to his knees in front of you (like w Feyre in ACOMAF) and cup your smooth thighs with his large hands

He’d kiss all over your skin, even up past your skirt, while never breaking eye contact with you

Cassian

When you walked in the room his jaw dropped, you looked stunning

You walked around minding your business with a small smirk on your lips as you caught Cassian adjusting himself out of the corner of your eye

Cassian cleared his throat, “Baby, can you come here?” You’d saunter over to him swishing your hips a little extra

Cassian pulled you into his lap and you nipped at his neck while he rubbed a calloused hand against your thighs

Azriel

Azriel would be the only bat boy to have self restraint

You’d walk around in front of him all day, bending over so your ass is practically in his face. That’s when he’d snap grabbing you by the hips and throwing you over his shoulder

Azriel would quickly walk to your bedroom and throw you on the bed

“What are you doing Azzy?” You giggled out. Azriel smirks down at you, “I think we’re going to leave the thigh highs and this very, very provocative skirt on.” And he’d wink at you

Lucien

When you came out of the closet Lucien felt like he couldn’t breathe

All he could do was stare as you walked around the bedroom getting ready for the day

You were clearly talking to him but all Lucien could say was “uh-huh” “yeah” “anything you say sweetheart”

When you left you winked at him gently shutting the door. Lucien sat there dumbfounded that he was still in bed and so not ready for the day if you were dressed like that

Eris

Eris knew what you were trying to do and he’d be damned if you won this round

The next time you saw him during the day it was when Eris summoned you to the throne room

He pulled you on his lap with your back flush to his chest

Eris would reach under your skirt, pulling your panties to the side brushing through your folds and teasing your entrance, “Thought you could get away with this little number, fox?”

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate pt 7

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - trauma response (shutting down and disassociation), Eris being an ass for the purpose of ✨️storyline✨️, desperation and angst on Azriel's end, possessiveness, some drived dialog/timeline changes, because ✨️fanfiction storyline/author got two events backwards ✨️, some angst

A/N - So, i realized as I was rereading this and the previous part, I got the meeting with Eris and Lucien going to find Vassa reversed on my timeline sheet. Excuse my mess up. I'll do a little Sarah style retcon to correct it. I thought about Eris sneaking her to the High Lord's meeting and rewriting this completely, but that would have been nearly impossible with Beron.

Alsp, Kaylee and Azriel will get a real reunion next time. And for those of you who like when men crawl and take accountability. It's for you 💙

Series Masterlist

Azriel Masterlist

The tension in the room was thick. Eris walked Kaylee to a waiting Azriel. “Safe and home, as promised, Shadowsinger.” 

Azriel took her with shaking hands, moving her to stand in front of him with a tight grip on her hips. 

Kaylee watched as the blonde male in the room began to smirk. “She looks lovely in my dear Morrigan's dress.”

Eris hummed in response. “She looks lovely in many things I presume.” Azriel's grip tightened and he took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. 

Every fiber of his being, every primal instinct was begging him, no, yelling and screaming for him to slam Kaylee down on the table, fucking her in front of everyone in the damned room to mark her as his territory. 

A soft purr came into Kaylee’s mind as her eyes found the floor. Did you fuck him? 

No. He wanted to, but it didn't go that far.

Rhys, to his own surprise, maintained his composure as Eris and Keir spoke to each other. Did he tell you whose dress that was?

No, Kaylee answered again. He said it had been sitting in the Forest House.

Azriel is going to murder him. Calm your mate. Rhys left her mind before turning to Keir and Eris, beginning whatever meeting they had planned. Kaylee stroked the bond, gently and testing, trying to evade her mate's anger, while also not sending him hers.

Azriel's grip loosened, one arm wrapping her hips and the other coming to her shoulders. He was holding her tightly against him, the scent of cedar and chilled air filling her lungs, intoxicating her into a deep sense of weightlessness and peace, allowing her to zone out of whatever political mess Rhysand and Feyre were dealing with. 

He tugged the bond tight, ensuring the scent of it hit the air before resting his chin on your head.

Eris's eyes flicked your way, pulling another growl from deep inside of Azriel. The heir smirked before agreeing to whatever conditions Keir and Rhys had laid before him.

Kaylee distracted herself with Azriel's hands, the slow realization that the dress she was wearing belonged to Mor had set in. Meaning this male, the male whose arms she had slept in, who she had allowed to touch her, was Mor's ex fiancé. The one who had left her dear friend for dead.

Then, slow realization Eris was not Azriel's friend - not her friend - set in.

The slow realization he had used her set in. 

“You look well, Mor.”  Kaylee didn't miss the look in his eyes, that cold taunting distance. Only she didn't know who he was taunting. Mor appeared repulsed by his being here, hurt maybe, but would not take his bait.

“You don’t speak to her,” Azriel said softly. Eris looked at Kaylee as if he had been right about something. “I see you’re still holding a grudge. I imagine seeing your little mate in that dress and smelling like my bed makes it worse, doesn't it?”

Kaylee whimpered as Azriel's grip on her tightened. He was holding her so close to his chest it was no wonder they weren't one or that she could breathe.

“This arrangement, Eris,” Rhys said, “relies solely upon you keeping your mouth shut and your hands to yourself.”

His sarcastic laugh had Kaylee recoiling impossibly further into Azriel. “And haven’t I done an excellent job? Not even my father suspected when I left tonight. Nor will he smell her on me. I ensured just the two of them could deal with that. It hurts, doesn't it Azriel, when your mate has been touched by another male? When another male comforts her loneliness and calms her anger."

Azriel growled behind her, "If this is about Lucien thinking he caught Elain and I, you could not be more wrong about what happened that night."

Eris smirked, leaning further onto the table. "Sounds familiar."

Kaylee felt eyes on her, causing her to begin sinking further into herself. For once, to Rhysand's surprise, she ignored his beast calling for her, trying to comfort her. 

Kaylee had no interest in her magic right now. No interest in the fae. No interest in anything but getting back to Lucien. 

Lucien was safe.

Lucien didn't promise safety and then allow her to be taken and held hostage by a tyrant.

Lucien didn't promise her forever then fuck her sister.

Lucien didn't promise to keep her safe then use her for whatever game he had in mind.

No, Lucien was kind. He was warm. He was safe. Lucien, if Kaylee was being honest, may have been the best thing to walk into her life if this was the fate she was in store for.

What was the point of a mating bond, this great promise of unconditional love and equality, when the person, the fae, she corrected herself mentally, could so easily betray you and lie about it.

What was the point in this found family encompassing her and her sisters when she wasn't wanted nor welcome.

What was the point in trying to keep this light in her going? When instead she could let it burn out slowly and just feel nothing.

Azriel's grip softened when he felt emptiness from Kaylee. She wiggled from his grip, leaving his side and going to the door, Mor going after her. 

Kaylee didn't know where she was going, but she ignored Mor calling for her. Her feet led her blindly until she found herself in a room standing in front of Nesta. 

Morrigan stilled, watching as Nesta tilted Kaylee's face up to look at her. Amren was sniffing her and growled with an unmasked look of disgust. 

Nesta opened her mouth as Mor waited for the insults to fly. Her jaw dropping when instead a simple question was asked, “Who did this to you?” Kaylee shook her head rapidly, shoulders falling into sobs as she allowed Nesta to pull her into her chest. “I'm so sorry, Kaylee.”

Kaylee allowed Rhys to walk her to her room in the Riverhouse. The two of them didn't speak as he held her shoulders, taking her to the one safe place all of her friends would be able to reach her. 

He sat her down in front of the vanity, unbraiding and unpinning her hair in silence. “I just need to know if you were willing when he touched you,” Rhys didn't stop his work. “No one is mad at you. We all do not believe this was your fault. You were used, Kaylee. That's not your fault." It sounded like he was reminding himself of that as well, and like he was trying to stay together for her.

Kaylee nodded, unable to form words and stared towards the window.

Rhys felt himself shattering. 

All their progress with her was slipping away. Taken by a mistake, a misunderstanding, catalyzed by the oldest sister they found comforting her. “Kaylee, don't do this. Talk to me, please.”

Her eyes had gone hollow and empty. She shrugged at him. Shutting herself down completely. Rhysand turned her in the vanity chair, kneeling down to be face to face with her. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Feyre loves you. Cassian loves you. Azriel loves you. Mor loves you. Amren is Amren,” he paused at her ghost of a smile. “You did nothing wrong.” He kissed her forehead, holding her close and hoping contact with him, with anyone from the Inner Circle would bring her back to them.

When she gave him no reaction, he sighed, forehead falling against hers, “Call for me or Fey if you need anything. Tug the bond if you want Azriel. We will all be at the House of Wind. We don't want you around Mor when she's like this."

And all she heard was, "We don't want you."

Kaylee tossed and turned in bed that night. 

She could feel something tugging for her, reaching out and calling for her like a siren spell. She got up opening the doors to her private balcony and shut her eyes, trying to feel for whatever wanted her. 

When she finally found it, the presence was so familiar she could hardly ignore it now, “I'm ready,” her hushed tone carried in the dead silence of the night, she moved back into her room, putting on clothing and packing a bag. 

Then find me, the voice was ancient and deep, rumbling in her soul.

She went down the steps, opening the bond to sense Azriel asleep and at peace for the first time since she had left with Lucien. 

“I'm sorry,” she whispered to no one as she walked far enough outside of the house's shield. “Forgive me.”

Azriel was in a deep sleep. Cassian and Rhys had all but forced a tonic down his throat, holding him back from going to Kaylee. 

His dream was paradise. The two of them were finally alone, sand from the beach covering their feet as golden sunlight reflected off stilled waters.

Eerily still waters Azriel realized. He blinked in confusion as the dream changed to him walking into a dark cave with nothing but a single torch lighting his way.

This all felt similar, like he had been here before, yet, he hadn't. 

And even in its similarity, it felt different. Instead of this being a dream, he was watching it through someone.

It wasn't until the deep growl came, followed by Kaylee gently shushing that realized he was. 

Azriel shot awake, tugging the bond, screaming through it, screaming for Rhys and Feyre. A shadow came to him, confirming his fear.

Kaylee was no longer in the Riverhouse. Nor the townhome. Nor did she climb 10,000 steps to the House of Wind.

He had never thrown his armor on quicker in his life, he had never strapped weapons to himself faster than he was now as the bond begged him to protect her this time. To fulfill his duty to her, to his mate. 

Rhys and Feyre rushed into his room, Cassian and Mor in tow. “Azriel, it's 3am. Why are you getting dressed and why are you yelling so loudly for us?” Rhysand's voice was heavy with sleep, Feyre leaning against him. 

“Kaylee isn't at the Riverhouse. She left and accidentally sent where she is down the bond. We need to go. Now.”

Cassian squeezed his eyes. “Az, Rhys left her there. She-”

“Is standing in a cave with a fucking fire drake, Cassian! My mate tracked down the fucking fire drake with her Dark Mother Cursed magic and is putting her life in danger.” 

Rhysand's face dropped as Azriel showed him. “Cassian, go get dressed. Feyre, Mor, go collect Madja and other healers. Now.”

The three Illyrians winnowed to the cave set by the ruins near the Prison. “All this time it's been this close to us, to Velaris,” Cassian muttered. “The last of the fire drakes, this close by.”

Smoke was billowing from the mouth of the cave, cause Azriel's stomach to drop. His only hope came in still feeling her. In feeling that faint opening she had accidentally left in the bond. He didn't wait for a plan, entering the cave despite the shouts coming from behind him.

He would find her, and when he did, he would beg, crawl, grovel. He would let Kaylee rip his heart out with his own dagger for just one moment to explain what happened, to plead for forgiveness, to beg her to give him a chance. 

One where Elain didn't interfere. 

One where he courted her properly. 

One where he knew it could be the end of their everything, but that he had at least tried. 

He found her centered in the deepest part of the cave. The fire drake had its head next to her. Its scarred and scaled body was relaxed, taking deep breaths as she shushed it gently, stroking right above its nose. 

Rhys and Cassian entered behind him, immediately noticing the same thing. “He's lonely,” Kaylee's voice wobbled, an evident sign she had been crying. “And he thought, maybe, just maybe, he and I could be lonely together.”

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