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scorpioriesling · 2 months ago

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Too Hot to Handle - Episode 8

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

Characters featured: Reader, Feyre, Morrigan, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Eris, Tarquin, Rhysand, Helion, Azriel, & Tamlin

Warning(s): mostly VERY suggestive, but... ehm... light smut at the end. You're welcome. I suppose. (:

SR’s Note: Guys I know you’ve waited ages for this episode… don’t fret. I made this one juicy asf for you. Eat it up. (; Tags: @velarisdusk @lilah-asteria @starlightazriel @mellowmusings @paintedbyshadows @book-obsessed124 @kitsunetori @rcarbo1

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"To say I am utterly disappointed in almost all of you would be the understatement of the century."

Lana's voice was the last thing you wanted to hear this morning, though her lovely morning wake up calls were inevitable. Many members of the group failed to even sit up in their beds this morning -- you at least gave your host the decency of acting like you were paying attention, though your head was still throbbing from the amount of alcohol you'd consumed the night prior.

Your only comfort was Lucien's warm arms still wrapped around your waist, a feeling you never wished to escape from; his soft, sleepy breaths against his pillow confirmed that he definately was not paying attention to Lana this morning.

"In fact, I feel so embarassed by the actions of these individuals that I would like to replay the footage from last night caught on the security cameras for everyone to see."

You straighten, and catch Nesta's silvery stare from across the room. Surprisingly, or, maybe not -- Cassian is rubbing his eyes in bed next to her, not seeming to be fully awake yet either. Her eyes widen as Lana's cone projects an image onto the adjacent wall near the entryway; large enough so everyone is able to see.

"I don't think we should be back here," the soft, familiar female voice sounds as the video tape begins on the screen.

Your eyes widen, glancing to the bed across from yours where your friend flings the covers off of her, frantically shaking the male next to her to pay attention.

"Oh, come on -- no one is even back here," that cool, suave tone prods. The couple walks on, rounding the corner of the villa near the spot where you remembered finding Elain and Lucien in their... well, compromising, position. The footage is a bit grainy, and in black and white, but there is no doubt about who the two are. The audio is clear proof of that.

The girl chuckles, the stripes of her skirt swishing with each step she takes. He keeps walking, his hand guiding her on her lower back and inching lower as they slow to a stop near a dark corner.

"I feel so... sneaky," she giggles, and he smiles at her as the camera zooms in. You glance toward them again, her usually pale-freckled face tinged pink with embarassment.

"I bet there are no cameras back here," he says, his hand bracing against the wall and caging her in. She looks up at him, her hands lightly roaming over the planes of his exposed chest.

"Rhys... we have to have a green-"

"I don't care about a green light; I just want you, now," he says. She reaches up, and in an instant, their mouths are on one another. Audible gasps come from the group, and Feyre buries her head in her hands as the lewd sounds of soft groans and wet kisses are played aloud for the group to hear.

"Alright Lana, I think that's enough," Rhys says, his brows furrowed as he runs a hand over Feyre's shoulders. You look down, your palms clammy as you grab onto the top sheet. Lucien is slowly coming to, looking at you with a confused expression while he quietly takes in the scene around him.

You don't have the heart, or the courage to tell him what's happening.

"Had enough?" Lana pauses the clip. "So have I." She says, clearly irritated. "Your rule break cost the group $10,000. Right after I gave everyone gifts, too. How kind of you to repay me." Amren shakes her head from across the room, and you watch as Tarquin bites the inside of his cheek.

"Don't fret too much over it -- we're only just getting started." She continues. "Let's have a look at our next couple to violate my rules, shall we?"

The group watches with baited breath as the camera footage switches, this time panning to the shoreline. In the background, the tiki bar and dancing from the main group is seen, but in the front, well... another couple is seen. Alone. Laying in the sand.

This didn't look good.

"By the Cauldron," Tamlin whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh give me a break," Azriel snapped, and your brows rose as you squinted to make out the dark footage before you.

The camera zoomed in, catching the perfectly illuminated profile of the redheaded female giggling in the sand. Her dark haired counter part was delicately tracing his fingers up her exposed stomach -- the see through dress covered in M&Ms doing little to conceal her form.

"Tickles!" She squeaked, her fingers lacing through his before he pinned both of her wrists above her head in the sand. Her breath was coming out in short pants as he moved on top of her, his... excitement rather evident through the gold "foil" Twix shorts he was wearing.

"You have to know," he says quietly, sliding down toward the tops of her thighs where the short skirt of the dress ended. "This is my favorite," he pauses, kissing the inside of her knee. She shivers, smiling softly. "...candy," he kisses the other knee, looking up at her through his dark brows. You had to admit, he wasn't even your man, but... had it been Lucien, you would've melted like an M&M on the pavement during a hot summer day.

She seems to remember what is to come -- a few beds down, she grabs every layer of blanket, sheet, comforter on the bed and pulls them completely over herself, covering her entire body out of embarassment, surely.

"Azzie..." she squeaks, and you feel your face heating from the second-hand embarassment. You watch as Azriel is forcibly restraining himself, many of the other group members' eyes glued to the screen in horror.

He keeps kissing her legs, going up her thighs and you fight yourself in your own mind to not allow yourself to think of Lucien. You know where this is heading, but when you sneak a glance at him, he's only looking toward the projection like everyone else.

Azriel bites one of the candies on her skirt, the candy coming off and she gasps as he chuckles near the top of her thigh. "Mmmm," he groans, and her head tips back in the sand. "Delicious," he mutters, the next candy closer to her pelvis. She sucks in a breath when his hands move to hold her hips in place, his nose brushing the thin fabric.

"I... m-more..." she pleads, and he grins mischeviously. She continues to squirm under his touch as he descends on her again, his fingers moving under the hem of her dress before stalling, and she groans again.

"I'm sure you'd taste sweeter than anything I've ever eaten before, Gwyneth Berdara-"

"ENOUGH OF THAT," Azriel is up in an instant, his entire body up and off the bed without hesitation. The group seems to snap out of their daze as he throws himself in front of the projection, his arms wide as the picture distorts itself across his bare upper half. You can see why Gwyn is so attracted, but... Gods, how embarassed you'd be.

You could only pray for your sake, for Lucien's sake, what you remembered doing wasn't too bad.

"Not another moment more of that. I don't want to see it." He said firmly, the video pausing on the rather explicit frame of him hovering over her, his lusty gaze fixed on her mouth, fallen open in what looked like a moan as his hands disappeared beneath her dress.

"Don't like facing what you've done, is that it?" Lana mocks. Azriel glares at the cone, as if she were a real person and could see his reaction. "I think it's quite healthy to own up to our mistakes, especially when we know what's right and choose not to follow the rules."

Azriel scoffs, slouching back into bed and crossing his arms. "I'll honor the request and spare you the rest of the footage -- but this rule break, my my. This one is $20,000."

More frustrated gasps come from the group, glares sent toward the couple. Azriel only stares forward, his brows furrowed. Looking around, you aren't too surprised to see Helion finding the whole situation rather entertaining.

"Hey man, I get it, I mean... we've been cooped up in here, you got your girl alone on the beach-"

"Not another word about the situation," Azriel growls, and Helion chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender. Gwyn shifts beneath her blankets, muttering something about how she'd choose the Cauldron in this situation.

"It's cool, I'm just sayin'..."

"Not. Another. Word." He bites out, and Lana lights up once more.

"No need for words, boys. We still have more couples to reprimand. This next pair didn't seem to need many before they-"

"So, what if we just, admit to what we've done," Nesta's cool, confident voice interrupted Lana's chiding, causing her purple lights to flicker. All eyes wavered between the two, and yours watched as Cassian sat up straight, leaning in to whisper hurriedly to the blonde with concern. She only brushed him off, seemingly unconcerned with whatever warning he was trying to give her. He slowly sat back against the headboard, running his hands through his hair as he stared at the ceiling.

Lucien smirked beside you. "For a guy so Hell bent on keeping everyone in line this whole time, he sure looks like a teenager who just got caught jerkin' it for the first time." He chuckles again, and you smack his shoulder. Was he really not getting it? Surely the cameras picked up on what you'd done last night -- or, what you thought you did. You weren't dumb enough to think events like those happened in a dream.

Beneath the blankets, your hand slipped under the hem of your nightshirt. You slowly inched your hand upward, careful to not raise any suspicion to the others. Your fingers drifted along your ribs, tracing them one by one, travelling closer and closer inward...

Ouch. The dull pain radiating just below your right breast was proof enough.

Definately not a dream.

"If we just admit we broke a rule, you won't need to play any more of the tapes. Right?" Nesta continues. The room is quiet for a moment, and Lana's lights move back and forth, as though she is thinking.

"While I appreciate your honesty in admitting you have broken one of my rules Nesta, the point of showing these videos this morning is for all of you to understand the humility in the actions you take. This explaination was going to come at the end of my reprimanding, but in short, it will lead to the main activity for today." She explains. Nesta sighs, biting the inside of her lip.

"We'll get to that later. For now, as you all can assume -- the next video and rule break." The screen projects again, this time as predicted, Nesta is on the screen. She walks, well... stumbles, perhaps, toward the outdoor lounge it seems. Even in the moonlight, she looks ethereal; her flowing hair perfectly shimmering down her back; the low cut, chocolatey brown dress draped across her, clinging in all the right places to accentuate her every curve. You almost wish you could cover Lucien's eyes, but there was no point. You feel a pang of jealousy when you notice him unashamedly staring at the screen like a male starved.

The camera angle changes, and you watch as she chuckles at something, then uncharacteristically trips over one of the tendrils of her dress. Your breath catches -- but, in an instant, Cassian is there, her hands wrapping around his bicep as his hands clasp around her waist. She looks up and smiles again as he guides her toward one of the plush outdoor couches, helping her into it and then sitting next to her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her slowly shaking her head in disapproval. Cassian runs his hands over his face, peeking out at the projection in horror between his fingers.

"You should have taken me on a date," Nesta drawled, clearly intoxicated as her fingers toyed with the fluff of Cassian's outfit. He arched a brow.

"A date? You were the one picking who to take on a date, not me," he retorted, and she rolled her eyes, leaning close to him.

"You still could have asked me out or something after," she continued, and he shook his head, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

"You're making no sense right now Nesta, but I love to listen to you talk nonetheless." He said, gazing at her as though she was the only female to exist in this world. Your heart warmed at the sight, probably the only good thing to come from this morning from Hell. You were happy for your friend, a silver lining, perhaps, even if she didn't remember every word and conversation had amidst the madness of the morning.

"Hmmm," she sighed, twirling her finger around the cotton-like strands of his shirt. "What is your costume, anyway?" She smirked.

He grinned mischeviously at her. "Aw, really? You couldn't tell? They gave me the marshmallow one." Nesta tilted her head back, a real, genuine laugh of excitement leaving her lips. Cassian couldn't help but join in, the sight of her usually serious composure slipping was one he was happy he could bring out of her.

When she finally caught her breath, she leaned in, so close that a few tendrils of her long hair tickled his neck.

"Well," she said quietly. "I think chocolate tastes better with marshmallows, anyway." Her eyes find his, blown wide in amusement as he pulls her in, his mouth colliding with hers. It doesn't take long for his hands to slide under the curve of her ass, pulling her on top of him as their mouths move in a tango, the cameras catching once again, every sound and groan-

"So," Lana pauses the tape. "Now we have seen three rule breaks, all in one evening. I hope you're all proud of yourselves." The room is quiet, the innocent group members shaking their heads in disapproval. Lucien's fingers slide along your thigh, his touch sending fireworks across your skin beneath the blanket.

"I do appreciate the admission of the rule break, Nesta; however, the cost is $10,000. It's been long enough now that you all know why you're here, and what my rules are."

You bite the inside of your cheek as she continues. "Which brings me to why I've tortured you all this morning. Today, we will be having workshops -- the guys will have their workshop this morning, and the girls will have theirs later tonight." This news seems to excite the group, and some of your nerves dissipate as she elaborates. Maybe she hadn't caught what you and Lucien had done, and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be punished for it.

"Since you all seem to think it is alright to misbehave after I gift you things like bracelets and parties -- you'll attend the workshops today and hopefully understand why your small amount of remaining time here is so precious." You move to stand, ready for the morning of torture to end so you can prepare for whatever "work" she has coming your way later this evening.

"Ah ah ah," she tuts, her lights blazing. "Please, guests. I'm not finished."

You sit, the pit growing in the bottom of your stomach. You can feel Lucien's eyes on you, but you don't dare to look. You can't seem to tear your gaze from anywhere but straight ahead. Straight at that damned. Cone.

"My final thoughts from this morning included another guest who'd been in my hot seat for a minute now, and after last night did not prove themselves worthy of staying at this retreat any longer." Murmurs ripple through the group, and you watch as the male in bed alone stands, seeming to know whats coming. His clenched fists indicate his unhappiness, but it's his glare toward the bed Netsa and Cassian share that has you more intrigued than sympathetic.

"Eris, please pack your things. You'll be leaving-"

"Yeah, yeah. I got it." In one swift motion, he slings his backpack over his shoulder, wheeling his suitcase behind him. The group watches silently as he walks out, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone on the way out. Its quiet for a few moments before Lana pipes up again.

"Finally guests, we have one more tape to watch. This costs the group another $20,000 -- leaving the total prize fund at $110,000. Please direct your attention to the projection."

All heads turn toward the open wall. Lana plays the video recording.

And to your horror, you watch as your face appears before the group.

ﾟ:* ✧

“What kind of outfit does one wear to a… what did Lana call it?”

It takes a few moments before there is a response. A dreary one, at best.

“A workshop.” At least Feyre had the decency to respond. No amount of bubbliness in Morrigan’s voice seemed to uplift the majority of the group today, and it was late enough that you could no longer blame the hangover headache or morning after fatigue.

All you had to blame was your outright shame. Your ignorance that cost the group due to your actions from the night prior.

Luckily, you weren’t alone. Nesta was colder than usual and Feyre hadn’t seemed to smile all day. You couldn’t say much for Gwyn, you weren’t as close with her — but you could imagine the feeling all too well.

“Right,” Mor sighs, uncapping her eyeliner and leaning toward the vanity mirror.

Lana had said earlier to be ready by 8 for the workshop, but it was now 7:45 and you’d been ready an hour ago. You simply didn’t feel right today — the pool water was too cold, you didn’t think you could handle any more alcohol, a walk along the beach didn’t even entice you as Lucien and the guys were gone to their workshop during the daylight hours. Not to mention the walk of shame from the villa to the pool to retrieve the discarded piece of your costume from last night. That was the final nail in the depression-coffin.

So, you got ready early.

As the girls corralled on the pool deck just after 8, your spirits lifted a little as you watched the guys approaching from the beach. Tarquin… then Rhysand… then Cassian…

Lucien stopped, taking your fingers lightly and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a small smile, his reassuring gaze finding yours.

“How was the workshop?” You asked.

He shrugged. “It went well, but I would’ve rather spent my day with you if I’m being honest.” He winked, and you grinned at his cheekiness.

“You’re too much,” you added playfully, and he squeezed your hand.

“But you love it,” he said, and your breath caught in your throat. You supposed you… did, love it. There were a lot of things, lately, you’d come to… love.

“Talk later?” He asked, following the group of guys back to the villa. You could only nod as you watched him leave, unable to find the words and force them out the way you wanted.

ﾟ:* ✧

“Good evening, ladies!” A tall, lean woman stood near a crackling campfire on the white sands of the shore. Her smile was inviting, her arms open and inviting the group to come join her on the beach — but you couldn’t help but wonder why she was wearing-

“Is she wearing pajamas?” Feyre whispers, and you nod silently. Morrigan snorts from her other side.

“I swear, if Lana sent us down here for twisted bedtime stories as punishment…” she shakes her head.

“Or maybe,” Nesta’s cool tone rings out from behind. “She is sending us into some kind of freakish, bedtime-cult.” Feyre shudders, wrapping her arms around her ribs. You smack your forehead with your palm. Leave it to Nesta to come up with something like that…

“No bedtime stories, nor a cult gathering, ladies,” the woman responds cordially. She must have heard you. “Tonight’s workshop is about accountability, embarrassment, change, and growth!”

The group disbands, spreading out in a circle around the roaring fire. There are 8 terry cloth blankets laid in the sand, small pillows atop each. Assuming there is one for each person and one for the instructor, everyone takes their spot near a blanket.

However, it only takes a moment to realize that the pillows are embroidered, and the blanket you’ve chosen next to Feyre will not do, as your name is not “Emerie”.

“I think you might be over here,” Morrigan says, and you look up, hoping to meet her eye. You quickly realize she was talking to Nesta, who happily struts over to her blanket next to the blonde and sits.

It seems everyone has found their spot, and you keep searching, looking for the last open one.

“Y/N, is it?” The instructor asks. You look up, her face clouded behind the smoke of the fire.

“Yes,”

“I think you’re over here,” she gestures to the last spot, right next to her. Great, you thought. Not next to your friends, and you’d have to likely go first when doing things in a circle. How convenient.

You walk over, sitting between her and Gwyn, who gives you a small smile. Settling in, you look to her as well, noticing the faint dusting of freckles on her cheeks, and despite everything — you smile back.

ﾟ:* ✧

“As I’d hinted at before, we want to really focus on themes like accountability, embarrassment, change, and growth tonight,” the instructor begins. “Now, I heard you ladies had a rough morning, which we can talk about more later — but I want to know, does anyone have any guesses on what setting you’d see things like accountability, embarrassment, growth, and some change?”

It’s quiet for a moment, before a small chuckle sounds from across the burning logs.

“Maybe at the strip club?” Morrigan giggles, and Nesta’s hand claps over her own mouth at the response. You can’t help the small grin creeping onto your face as the instructor rolls her eyes.

“Yes, yes, very funny. I’m sure you’d definitely some growth and quite a bit of change tossed around in there,” she shakes her head. “But, on a serious note. These topics of the evening relate to the overarching theme of this workshop — a sleepover!”

To say she got more than a few confused looks would be selling it short.

“Sure, you might not always discuss things such as these at a sleepover with your best friends,” she elaborates. “But, the objective is to get everyone talking; all of you are experiencing this retreat in full, you can relate to one another and lean into each other in that way. Opening up to the people who go through these kinds of things with you will only make it easier to open up in relationships in the outside world.”

You nod, a lump forming in your throat. Being questioned, prodded and having to say things you weren’t exactly good at expressing would be… well, tough.

To your right, Gwyn chewed on her lip. She seemed nervous too. You thought about this morning, how Lana played her intimate moment with Azriel for the group like that…

The thought only made you angry. Angry for her.

“Let’s get started then — I won’t truly keep you here all night,” the instructor chuckled, adjusting atop her blanket and cradling her pillow. She looked around, then settled on the girl to her left.

“Ahh,” she sighed, squinting at the embroidery on the girl’s pillow. “Amren. Let’s begin with you, shall we?”

ﾟ:* ✧

Each girl was given an opportunity to hash out their feelings, respond to the questions the instructor asked, and then go around and give one “honesty” to everyone, ending with themselves and their current partner if they have one.

Everyone so far had done so well, you were impressed by how emotional some of the women were getting. Amren of course didn’t cry, but her “honesty” to Emerie about being happy she made a new friend was really touching.

During Nesta’s turn, it was hard watching her struggle and calculate how to answer each question. The instructor called her out on it, and by the end, she was expressing her excitement over Cassian — and how much his never-ending endearment scared her a bit.

Morrigan made you smile, always. She told you she was happy to call you a friend, and even apologized to Nesta for how she acted toward her initially. It was nice to see, the full circle of it all.

Emerie took her turn, discussing her childhood trauma which clenched your heart and made you realize how hard some people have had it. You felt so terrible, you had no idea. You were happy to see Feyre comforting her as she let it all out — admittedly, feeling much better afterward.

Speaking of… Feyre did bring you to the brink of tears. She spoke of how meeting Rhys has been so special, but finding friends like you and Mor are what she will take away more than anything from this retreat.

The lump in your throat only grew at that.

Gwyn was surprising, as she brought up her past relationships and how she didn’t trust Azriel at first. That, you could relate to — Elain, of course. You saw it in her eyes when she talked about it, but when she talked about him now, a new light was brought into her face, one that you were happy she was able to find. One you hoped no one would take away, or embarrass her for, again.

“Y/N, are you ready?”

You swallowed hard. No.

“Of course,” It came out shaky at best.

All of your past. The relationships, the dynamics. The toxic ones, the good ones, the almosts — every card was on the table. But she just kept pushing. You felt that with every answer, there came a new question. Were the other girls talked to this long?

“…I see you’ve been through some difficult relationships,” the instructor says. “But, you seem very happy in your current one?”

Your cheeks flush, the silence loud against the crashing of waves on the shore. The image of Lucien flashed in your mind, when he’d been out there in those waves. So carefree, so beautiful.

“I… I am.” You say, your eyes meeting her soft gaze.

“Do you think you’d, stay with him? Outside of the retreat?” She eases.

Oh boy. Here’s the hard part. You glance around, everyone’s eyes on you. You knew the answer, what you wanted to say, what you wanted to be true — but, you refused to be wrong, to be bitten and look like a fool in the end.

“Maybe, I mean, I-“

“Ah, ah,” she urges. “I feel like that’s not really what you want to say. In here.” The instructor points to your heart, and you glance down at it, as though you can see through your clothes, your skin, your bones right to it. If you could only say what you felt, you’d tell her right now that you’d rip it out of your fucking chest and hand it to him if he simply asked.

You didn’t realize in the silence that a tear slid down your cheek, only registering the feeling when a cool hand wraps around your own. You look to your right, your eyes burning when they meet a pair of turquoise blue ones staring encouragingly at you.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Gwyn says quietly. “All of us are here with you. You’re not alone.” She smiles, and a river of tears floods over your waterline as you look between each girl, staring back at you with just as much encouragement.

You wipe your cheek with the back of your hand, your heart beating out of control as you clutch your pillow against your chest. Taking a long breath, you look directly at the fire, its dying embers smoldering as dark as the night sky.

“I will. I have to. He’s…” Your shoulders shake as a small smile creeps into your face, a steady mantra replaying over and over in your mind. Lucien. Lucien. Lucien.

“He’s … the best man I’ve met. In a really, really long time,” you continue. “I… I go to sleep, thanking the Cauldron I’m laying next to him. I wake up, so excited to learn more about him. I talk to him like I’ve known him my entire life, I…” You breathe heavily, looking around. Nesta’s hands cover her grin, and Feyre looks to you through her teary lashes.

“Well,” the instructor drawls, her smile evident. “I’m very pleased you got all of that off of your chest, and I’m hoping now that you’ve expressed it, you’ll be open to sharing these feelings with him as well.” She says, and you smile down at your pillow, swatting away your remaining tears.

“Because it seems to me, the feelings you share with him go a bit deeper than just liking him, dear.”

ﾟ:* ✧

You slowly pulled back the covers on your side of the bed, moving as silently as possible in hopes to not stir anyone -- especially the male sleeping on the other side. His shoulders rose and fell every few seconds, the soft sounds of his sleepy snores bringing a little smile to your face.

The mattress dipped slightly when you sat on it, slipping beneath the covers as quickly as you could. It was a challenge, especially in the dark; but, that's what you got for staying up later than everyone else to shower. After the retreat, you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and walking back to the villa, you only felt positive about the relationships you had formed while being on the retreat.

As you snuggled deeped under the covers, you stilled when Lucien suddenly angled his shoulders toward you. You saw his profile, his face scrunching in the darkness. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand -- even in the dim room, you could make out the arcs of his muscled arms reaching above him.

"Mmm... Y/N..." he drawled, his voice gravelly and thick and so, so sexy from sleep. You leaned close, delicately placing your hand on his arm and leaning in to whisper against his ear.

"I'm sorry, I tried not to wake you-" He breathed deep, shifting to roll to his other side. He faced you now, but his eyes were still shut. He didn't hesitate in reaching his arms around your middle, drawing you as close as he could get you to him.

"I missed you," he said lowly, and you grinned, running your fingers through his long tendrils. He hummed in gratification, a little smile on his sleepy face.

"I missed you too sweetheart," you say.

"Smell so good," he drabbled on, breathing deep again. You giggled quietly, moving ever so slightly out of his grasp.

"Well, I just showered, my hair is still really wet-"

His brows furrowed, and he squinted his eyes open in the dark.

"C'mere baby."

You wiggled closer, and his arms fully encased you against his chest, his fingers playing down the column of your spine. You couldn't help but melt into his touch, his intoxicating earthy scent only a reminder of the spine-tingling moment you'd allowed yourselves to indulge in the night before.

This time, instead of feeling embarassed by your actions -- you allowed yourself to drift of to the memories of those wonderful, reckless, carefree moments, only hoping that when you left Lana's retreat, the two of you could share more of the same.

･ﾟ: *✧

The music from the tiki bar was blasting so loud you felt like it had transcended through the air, in through your ears, and was now embedded in your bones. The air was thick with the scent of the sea, but the sound of the waves was much too overpowered by the bass coming through the speakers.

Bodies around you moved back and forth, jumping, sometimes tilting their heads back as they downed another shot -- you knew you should have stopped hours ago. The neon lights blended together, pink and blue and yellow in the sky. You didn't care; inside, you were warm.

After the Tito's, you had to call it. You were holding up well until Lucien appeared in the corner of your eye -- and when he started talking, those inviting lips so close, practically asking for yours -- you knew you were done for.

When his hands touched you... now that's when you formulated your little plan.

You felt so needy, and frankly, you didn't care about money. Lucien was what you wanted, and the way his cock pulsed against your stomach... all it would take is some clothing removal, and there we go, he's all yours.

"I won't be able to just talk to you. When you look. Like that." He growled, his dominance sending heat straight to my core. I shifted on the balls of my feet, the gauzy fishnet fabric stretched across my chest scratching against his.

"I can barely hear you over this music," You say loudly, biting my lip and staring up at him with wide eyes. He huffs, tearing his gaze away from where my body connected with his.

When he looked at me again, his eyes narrowed. "If we go to the pool deck, will you promise to be good?" He asked, clearly agitated that he had to hold himself back. You grinned as he fell right into your little trap.

What was even better was that no one was on the pool deck. The ligths were dimmed, and the water was illuminated by the underwater glowing bulbs. Lucien sighed, propping himself on the sofa near the edge and leaning back.

You sat on his knee, and he frowned at you.

"Y/N, we said we'd talk-"

"Let's talk," you said, your arms draping over his shoulders. You leaned in, your hands playfully squeezing his shoulderblades as you let out a light giggle.

"Y/N..."

"You're so strong," you praised, adjusting your position so you straddled him instead. He sucked in a breath, his hands braced on your hips as you wiggled around on his lap.

"Y/N." He said sternly, and you pulled back, looking straight into his eyes.

"Hmm?" You hummed, your heart sinking as his expression hardened.

"We've been so good this whole time, babe," he explained, and you reached out to toy with a strand of his hair. "We're supposed to get a light first before we... well..." he trails off. You drop your hand, sitting back on his thighs as tears well in your eyes.

"You... don't... want me like that?" You ask, your bottom lip poking out dramatically. His eyes soften at your words, the realization in your reaction hitting him in full.

"No! No sweetheart, I just..." he cups your cheek with his hand, and you lean forward once more. "I need you to know I care about more than just this, alright? I care about you." He stops short, his eyes falling as he searches for the right words. Even as you toe the line of blacking out, one thing is clear; for him, you'd give up every cent of that prize fund. It means nothing -- for you, he was the real prize, and you'd won the moment you met him on the boat the first day you'd arrived.

"Lucien," you let out a breathy moan, inching closer as you grind your hips back and forth against the tent in his shorts. His eyes flutter closed, his lips parting as short breaths escape him.

"Oh... fuck, baby," he utters, his fingers squeezing the flesh of your hips as you continue your minstrations, his erection continuing to harden. Your hands brace against his shoulders as you lean in, not giving one damn about any money or prize fund while you shamelessly open your mouth, your tongue licking a fat stripe from his collarbone to his ear.

The sound that comes from his throat can only be described as primal, his hips thrusting up off of the sofa and harshly rubbing against your clit.

"Fuck," you cry out as his gaze focuses on you once more, your cleavage on display before his very eyes. The images running through his head are absolutely mouthwatering, but something Lana would never approve of.

"If I could," he pants breathlessly, continuing to dry-fuck you. "I would have... oh Gods, Y/N... I would have bent you over... the minute we walked into... the private villa..." he groans, and you tangle your fingers through his hair.

"You... you feel so good Lucien," you squeak out, before he grabs your hips and tosses you onto your back on the cushions. You let out a devilish laugh as he leans over you, his sly smile illuminated in the iridescent moonlight.

"You're not being a very good girl," he tuts, his hands lifting the arch of your back gently before unhooking your top. You gasp as he pulls it clean off of you, tossing the heart-covered thing right into the pool.

"Lucien!"

His only response is his teeth grazing your neck, sucking gently as he plays with your boobs. His fingers pull at your already hardened nipples, pinching and bouncing them while he smirks.

"Fucking perfect," he admires, his gaze now trained on the spot just beneath the right one. His eyes flick to yours only for a moment before his lips attach to the spot, kissing and biting at the skin there.

"Lucien... ahh, oh Gods yes..." you babble on, only slightly distracted by his thigh inbetween your legs, his bent knee propping him up above you. Instinctively, you drag your clothed pussy along his thigh, the only thing separating your skin from his being your lacy underthings which are surely soaked by now.

He nips particularly hard and you squeal, your fingers tugging lightly on his roots. His eyes find yours in a disapproving look.

"Don't get greedy now, sticky fingers," he says, licking his bottom lip again at the sight of your top half bare beneath him. "I'm just making sure everyone knows who you belong to."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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readychilledwine · 10 months ago

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✨️What Readychilledwine's favorite SJM males would call you✨️

💝Just a little headcanon of what my favorite males would call you as their mate. This is part 1 because tumblr limits how many images you can post 💝

Warning - she's long because of the fanart, but I figured we all deserve some eye candy today

(P.s. fanart is credited unless I could not find the creator, if you happen to know, please comment so I can add it.)

✨️Acotar✨️

Aside from Azriel, all fanart in this section is from our beloved Mads Schofield. The Azriel fanart is from Zoe Holland

RHYSAND :

💜 darling, love, high lady, my star 💜

Cassian :

❤️sweetheart, babe, wifey, princess ❤️

Azriel :

💙 my salvation, dove, angel, sweetness, amor💙

Eris:

🔥my fox, little lady, my spark, my love, my fire🔥

Lucien:

🧡my lady, kitten, honeybee, beautiful, my best half🧡

Tamlin :

💚petal, my rose, my lady, my dear, little Wife 💚

Tarquin :

🐚seashell, princess, my better half, treasure, my pearl🐚

Helion

☀️ temptress, my sunflower, sunspark, my queen☀️

💝💝Peep part 2 for Crescent City and Throne of Glass💝💝

General taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

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animezinglife · 6 months ago

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Late Nights in Summer

Lucien tends to Elain after she has a bit too much to drink.

Genre: Fluff/Romance/Subtle Angst. Mild suggestive humor (brief). Post-canon, established relationship Elucien fic | Masterlist Simple, fun little one-shot I wanted to get off my chest. Briefly-mentioned OC. Thank you as always to @lucienarcheron, @zenkindoflove, @crazy-ache, @teddyhoneybear, and @thelov3lybookworm for their continued support.

Lucien wasn’t sure what to expect when Tarquin had called him in about Elain, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out. With one glance he'd known: her hair and the clothes she’d worn out with Cresseida disheveled, head resting on the pillow of Cresseida’s sofa, and snoring.

Loudly.

The princess of Adriata stood behind where his mate lay and raised her hands in mock surrender.

“I told her to slow down,” she said, and Lucien smirked, crossing the room and kneeling at the side of the sofa. Elain wasn’t accustomed to drinking to begin with, much less the strong, deceptively sweet drinks of Summer that could take a fully grown male out of commission if he didn’t pace himself. Despite her snoring, though, Elain’s face was serene, and he brushed a strand of her hair off her face and tucked it behind her ear.

She snorted in response. Cresseida bit back a laugh.

Resting a hand on her shoulder, he glanced up at the princess. During his and Elain’s earlier visits to Summer together, Cresseida had acted aloof towards his mate, keeping a distance and not going much farther than to offer her the usual, courtly formalities. It had bothered him even though he’d quickly pieced together that it hadn’t been personal–more of a lingering suspicion towards the Night Court in general. Yet over time Elain had thoroughly charmed Cresseida and Tarquin both, and this wasn’t the first time they had explored Adriata’s nightlife together. Though it was the first time they had left the males behind altogether, on account of “Welcoming Acelia to the family!” as the princess had put it.

��Where’s Acelia?” he asked, and the princess rolled her eyes, her smile softening slightly.

“Where do you think?” she asked, and Lucien nodded in understanding, knowing the small female had been returned home to Tarquin safely. The High Lord’s mate was as small as Elain in stature, though as a Summer native herself, he suspected she’d fared better than his own.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, and the princess nodded once as he gently turned Elain and lifted her into his arms. Even though the sweet scent of Summer booze was strong, her own scent of jasmine and honey still filled him, and as if in response to his nearness she stirred awake, their bond humming as her eyelids fluttered open. She pulled herself closer and nuzzled his neck, and at Cresseida’s amused expression, he said his goodbyes and winnowed them back to their quarters.

Elain had been ecstatic about their guest suite, its walls invisible from within and facing the sea. The wards that protected the room from the elements and external threats only allowed the fresh, gentle breeze and sounds of the waves to flow through. Vines with tropical flora wove their way around the columns of warded wall, the view extending out uninterrupted to their terrace and private bath with edges that seemed to drop into the ocean itself.

They’d spent most of their previous night there and most of the following morning in bed. Time seemed to move more slowly in the Summer Court, and while Tarquin himself was a punctual high lord and a gracious host, it was rare that any among his court rushed on a daily basis.

Lucien and Elain had found themselves thoroughly enjoying that fact.

Presently, he smirked as her nuzzling turned into a long, wet kiss, and he carried her towards the bed and sat her down gently. His mate propped herself up lazily as he knelt to remove her shoes, and he didn’t miss the heat in her gaze as her hand found his hair.

“I love this view,” she slurred dreamily, and Lucien allowed himself to glance up at her, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

“They did give us the best suite in Summer,” he quipped, and she shook her head, steading herself with her grip on his hair and leaning down closer. Fruit and rum danced on her breath as she met his eyes, focusing on that scent to distract himself from the way her legs parted before him.

“Not that,” she said, her cheeks flushing beyond the effects of the booze. “I like you right here.” Her voice emphasized the last two words with a suggestiveness Lucien was certain she would’ve had more reservation making had she been sober. He held her gaze as he slid off her sandals, his hands tracing up her legs lightly until they rested on the sides of her knees. He moved them together gently, resting one hand atop them and smoothing down the hem of her skirt that had risen from the motion with the other.

“If only you hadn’t had so much to drink,” he teased, pressing his lips to her exposed knee. “I’d stay here as long as you liked.”

“I’m not that drunk,” she insisted, wavering slightly as he rose and sat down on the bed beside her.

“Sure, you aren’t,” he said gently, brushing her hair over her shoulder and reaching for the pins in her hair. She always took them out before bed, and as he started on them one by one, she swayed slightly and rested her head into his touch. The warm caress she sent down the bond didn’t surprise him–what did was the sharp tug that followed, so strong it pulled his body towards hers in response. He raised a brow as she giggled, angling herself so she could place her hands on either side of his face. She leaned into him so closely he could taste her breath on his own, her eyes narrowing slightly…and trying desperately to focus. He spoke again as her gaze lingered over his mouth, allowing a fraction of defeat. “You’re not making this easy, love.”

It amused him, this once-human mate of his who’d surprised him more times than he could count. Whether from her resilience, her warmth, her wit, or her sharp tongue, there hadn’t been a dull moment with Elain Archeron ever since they’d begun to know each other.

There was no doubt to any who saw her that Elain was High Fae: she was beautiful–devastatingly so--and the gentle, warm power that had lay dormant for so long seemed to glow from within her even now. But it wasn’t that fact alone that made it impossible for Lucien to take his eyes off her; hadn’t been from the moment he’d first seen her the day she’d been Made.

It was the vibrant spark in her fawn-brown eyes–the innately, undeniably human spark that had held him in its grip and refused to let him go.

Even now, despite her current state, its embers shined through, holding him there as she lightly traced his jawline.

His nose.

His mouth.

His eyes fluttered closed as her fingertips found his scar, gently brushing over his eyelid and resting her thumb against the height of his cheekbone–where the scar met its greatest depth.

Lucien had hated that scar for a long time. He’d considered glamouring it; had once even sought information on healers who might be able to rid him of the disfigurement.

He had wondered–despite his senses and intuition telling him otherwise–if that scar and his eye had been partly to blame for the distance Elain had initially put between them. Though those fears had long since proven a fragment of his own insecurities and vanished, and when Elain had asked him to tell her the story behind it, he’d done so. He wouldn’t have blamed her for running–not when she’d already been given a bond she’d never asked for.

And yet…

Lucien didn’t stop her as she leaned closer still, closing the distance between them to press a kiss to the spot her thumb had lingered. Despite himself, he sighed into her touch; her scent. He let her fingers find his hair again as she ran them through his red strands and accepted the chaste, lingering kiss she placed at the corner of his mouth.

“Kiss me,” she murmured against his lips, tugging lightly at his hair in encouragement. “Please, Lucien.”

Something in her tone sobered him, and his eyes opened slowly to take her in. Of course he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her and never stop, giving in fully to their bond–to her–and tangle with her in bed until they were both spent and had nothing left to give.

There would be time for that, and he thanked the Mother every day for the time they spent together.

For now, he could oblige her one request.

Gently resting his hand beneath her chin, he closed the distance between them again. He savored the kiss she returned, tasting the drink on her lips and at the scent that so potently warmed to him as her body called to his. But as she tried to part his lips he stopped, forcing himself to break it and instead place another long, chaste version against her temple. “I’ll always kiss you,” he murmured, and she hummed against him and slid her hand over his heart. He covered her hand in his, feeling their heartbeats move in sync.

He wanted her. He always wanted her, whether he kissed her or made love to her or simply felt her presence near.

But he would only have her when it was fully her choice and nothing could blur those lines between them. He'd made that decision long ago, even though it would have never been a question to begin with.

Elain knew as much. He could sense it now as some conscious part of her seemed to withdraw slightly, even if it did nothing to stifle either of their want.

She tilted her head and met his gaze, the embers like sunlight dancing in her eyes again. This time, the spark and feeling she sent down the bond were playful.

A dare.

A private, blissful challenge.

“Tomorrow,” she said, tapping a finger against his chest. He felt his smirk return as her blush deepened. “When I’ve slept this off, I want more than a kiss. I want you."

He didn’t bother to jest or retort, and instead pressed another peck to her lips.

“It’s a deal.”

#elucien fics #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #short one-shot #late nights in summer #acotar fics #summer court #the summer court #tarquin #tarquin x oc (mentioned)#cresseida

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iamheadcanontrash-deactivated · 1 year ago

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Heyy, I was wondering if you could do hcs of the acotar characters, rhys, cass, az, lucien, eris, etc. and what kinds of birthday gifts they'd get you, how they'd celebrate your birthday?? thank you so much!!

What the ACOTAR Males Would Do For Your Birthday~

Cassian: 🦇❤️

-Would do literally whatever you wished. It’s his command.

-Would sit in silence with you or take you to Rita’s, whatever you wished for that day.

-He has a tendency to put a lot of thought into his gifts, so it his gifts would revolve around your own hobbies. A music player with your favorite songs, a limited edition book series you’d mentioned months prior… fleece lined Illyrian leathers… anything.

Rhys: 🦇🌙

-Surprise parties. For sure—he wants to celebrate his Darling! 💕

-Would gift you a beautiful dress beforehand as well (made by his mother, of course. It’s unknown where his stash of dresses is.)

-Would offer some late night fun as well, iykwim 😉

Azriel: 🦇🖤

-Would want to spend quiet, 1:1 time with you on your special day. He doesn’t like crowds.

-Would plan a secluded vacation for just you and him, and you’d both dress up for a simple dinner night.

-He’d gift you a new piece of jewelry to wear (either he saw you eyeing it, or he saw it himself and it reminded him of you.)

Eris: 🍎🍂

-Listen: you are this male’s TREASURE. If his dad is still in the picture, he won’t risk anything. You will stay a secret for a while whether you like it or not. Not in a Tamlin way though—more in a “my father has killed females for loving us; you wouldn’t be an exception” way.

-He will only have 1:1 time with you. You’d be on a getaway vacation in a cabin not even his brothers know about.

-He’d gift you clothes, or an Autumn Court cloak, something thoughtful and beautiful. He’d also love to dance with you on your day.

Lucien: 🦊🌞

-This male pays attention. He only wants the best for you, he is a protector.

-Would maybe gift you a beautiful dagger he’d found while on his trips, or an expensive tea he’d caught you looking at while out and about together.

-Would also be another male that prefers his 1:1 time with you. It’s not that he hates crowds; it’s more of a trust thing. He only trusts you. He only wants to see you, be surrounded by only you.

Tamlin: 🥀💚

-Would be pretty basic about his gifts/celebrations until The Girlfriend Effect TM kicked in.

-Would gift you anything to do with a hobby you’ve expressed interest in. You gotta give him credit though, he’ll only gift you high-quality things.

-Tammy has grown to be not too fond of crowds anymore. He would enjoy a quiet dinner in his home with you, a walk through his garden. Maybe once he heals he will have a nearby village that’s thriving. He would be willing to eat dinner at a cafe in Spring Court with you, he’d learn to support small businesses.

Tarquin: 🌊🐬

-A day on the yacht? Party on da boat. He loves watching your hair blow in the wind, your smile as you watch dolphins jumping by.

-He would give you your own island if you asked. The whole ocean.

-If parties aren’t your thing, he would plan a whole dinner, a sunset boat ride just you and him, floating in the ocean while you just enjoy each others company until you want to go back. He’ll be out there all night if you so wish.

Thank you for requesting!! I hope y’all are ready for Kinktober tomorrow 😌😉

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel x reader #cassian #cassian x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #tamlin x reader #tamlin #tarquin #tarquin x reader

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btsbabe7 · 3 months ago

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Some of y’all think Tamlin is a red flag, yet are currently dating men with more. Be safe my babes 😭🚩

He just needed some therapy & true love tbh 😪

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shadowqueenjude · 1 year ago

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If you think about it, Rhysand wearing a mask to protect only Velaris doesn't even make sense. While UTM, sure, but everybody thinks so badly of the Night Court that it must have been going on for way beyond that. What was the point of that??? The other courts lived in perfect harmony with each other. Rhysand supposedly possesses far more power than the other High Lords anyway, so he would be able to protect his court from invasion quite easily. There's no need to separate the CoN and Illyria from Velaris if you just properly enforce laws. And if you think about it, guys like Tamlin (and Tarquin) who believe in the freedom of all, would 100% help him get rid of all the oppression and misogyny that occurs in the Night Court. The cut wing problem could be resolved through Nuan, a brilliant technician who made herself a metal arm and a certain redhead a metal eye. What do Tamlin and Nuan have in common? Yes, Lucien. He could've solved all of the Night Court problems in one swipe. With Eris, he often has to wear a mask to survive an abusive tyrant. Rhysand though? He IS the abusive tyrant. There's no mask, it's just who he is. I think SJM tried to recreate Hades not just in a romantic trope but as a character. He rules over the dead and he's shit on by Zeus and Poseidon. So the Night Court is supposed to represent...the underworld? And Velaris is supposed to represent Elysium while the CoN is supposed to represent the Fields of Punishment. Which is really disturbing when you think about how many innocent people must be stuck in the CoN. So Sjm failed to create Hades vibes because people are sorted out fairly in the Underworld based on their misdeeds. Also, Hades didn't pretend to be a super nice guy lol. I mean there's many problems with the Hades-Persephone trope too but I actually think that their relationship is healthier than feysand's at this point.

#anti rhysand #anti feysand #anti inner circle #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #tamlin #tarquin #eris vanserra #hades x persephone #sjm critical

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headfulloflettuce · 5 months ago

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Masterlist

Fandoms I write for:

ACOTAR

The Human Who Fooled All of Prythian: in progress

ao3

Summary:

“I am going to become a fae.” “You what?!” “Not for real of course.” Cosette smiled, turning to look at Ophelia, “I am going to fake it.” “By the Mother you’re an idiot.”

Cosette expected a nice relaxing evening eating teriyaki chicken after a long day of grueling work. What she did not expect was to get human trafficked and sent on a fetch quest to try and escape Prythian. Were ACOTAR's characters always such jerks?

Chapter 1: Do You Have Teriyaki Chicken Wings?

Chapter 2: Bird in a Cage

Chapter 3: It Was in Fact Not Fine

Chapter 4: The New Routine

Chapter 5: Liar, Liar Pants on Fire

Chapter 6: Friends in Dark Places

Chapter 7: A Warm Blanket

Chapter 8: The Hunt

Chapter 9: Happy Birthday Fern!

Chapter 10: Get Me the Hell Out of Here

Chapter 11: Up-And-Coming Actress

Chapter 12: The Day Fern Died

Chapter 13: Welcome to Winter Court

Chapter 14: Petty Coins

Chapter 15: A Sweet Stench

Chapter 16: Open for Business

Chapter 17: All Things Magic and Mystic

Chapter 18: Family Meeting

Chapter 19: Memento

Chapter 20: A Party for Old Friends

Chapter 21: New Acquaintances

Chapter 22: A Very Polite Non-political Conversation

Chapter 23: I Present Thee With This Muffin of Friendship

Chapter 24: Pointy Stick of Doom

Chapter 25: An Iris and Her Pine Tree

Chapter 26: Toxic Tea

Chapter 27: Failure Is the Path to Success

Chapter 28: A Father's Lessons

Chapter 29: To Velaris!

Chapter 30: Quiet, the Adults Are Talking

Chapter 31: I Am Definitely Just a Tourist. For sure. 100%

Chapter 32: Behind Closed Doors

Puppet Darling: in progress 7/13

Inspired by @wallflowers-in-the-wind’s post here.

Summary:

Feyre had everything she wanted in life: a loving mate, a family, and a proper home for the first time in ages. Except that she didn’t want it. The last time Feyre had any autonomy were the minutes leading up to Rhysand teaching her how to use her daemati powers.

Or, how Feyre’s moral compass and human self have been trapped deep in her subconsciousness, with Rhys playing puppet master.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

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sapphicmsmarvel · 5 months ago

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acotar characters and getting mad over silly, silly things

these are the things the characters get mad over, except they are super silly.

This is a short one!

i.e. the only times they ever get mad at you, but it’s not toxic ❤️

Azriel

Just let this man zip your dresses up. He gets you want to be “independent” but just, let him zip the damn dresses.

He also loves lacing up your corsets.

He’ll press a kiss between your shoulder blades. Kiss the spot between your neck and shoulder.

He loves the intimacy within the action, loves knowing that you are for him.

Wrapping you up as a gift is just a plus.

Cassian

He gets mad when you open a door for yourself. He will race you to the door. Even shove you out of the way.

it’s the gentlemen-like thing to do.

He loves seeing your ass when you walk past him.

He doesn’t want his babydoll lifting a finger.

Rhysand

if you don't let this man pull out your chair at a dinner table or function….

What a pouty bitch.

It’s a simple claim of “they’re mine.” But also he just simply loves doing it. He loves to help you whenever he can, even if it’s something small like pulling out your chair.

Plus, when he does it, he usually kisses your head or brushes his fingertips across your shoulders, making you shiver.

Feyre

Don’t you ever do your nails yourself.

She loves working on a smaller canvas and painting your nails intricate designs is like therapy to her. She loves doing cheesy things like putting your initials together in a heart.

Morrigan

Let her do your makeup. It brings her so much joy to just stare at your face when you aren’t looking. It’s the one time she doesn’t feel like a creep doing it even though you’re her wife.

When you close your eyes as she dusts some sparkly shadow across your lid, it making your skin tone pop.

And if you’re dark skinned? with metallic colors? That would kill her.

Amren

Putting your jewelry on for you. She’s a simple woman, just let her do your jewelry. You have hundreds nearing thousands of pieces she has given you.

She knows what compliments your skin, or what looks good with an outfit. As well as what gems you like the most and what metals irritate your skin.

When she puts your necklace around you, she’ll kiss the spot on your neck where the clasp is.

Nesta

She loves closing the clasp on your heels and tying your shoes.

It’s the only time anyone will see her bow to someone else. (besides the bedroom but they don’t see that).

If you do it yourself, she literally makes you undo them, or she undos them, then she redoes it. She’ll be damned if you buckle your own shoes. While she’s down there, she’ll press a kiss to your thigh, calf, inner knee, ankle. Whatever she feels like.

Elain

She loves doing your hair. Even brushing it after a bath, she doesn’t want you doing it. She wants to do it.

She loves weaving flowers through it, braiding, any type of style. It’s therapy for her, to just sit there and play with her girl's hair.

Lucien

He doesn’t like you doing ‘boy jobs’, as in the dishes or some ridiculous shit like that.

It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable it’s just, you’re his spouse you deserve better than taking out the trash!

The definition of “my hands look like this, so theirs look like this” but again, not in a toxic way. Just a “my baby is my baby and i’ll be damned if they lift a finger.”

Eris

He gets mad when you refuse to let him walk on the more dangerous side of a sidewalk or sleep in the spot closest to the door so he can protect you better if need be.

He’s a natural protector and you are the love of his life. He’s not going to put you in danger even though you’ve told him nobody is waiting outside the bedroom door to kill you.

But, you can never be too safe.

Tarquin

Washing your hair, it’s really therapeutic for him to wash your hair. Even if you get embarrassed because if you have a flaky scalp it embarrasses you. But he loves just taking care of you.

Nothing with him is embarrassing. Every hair wash day he’s there with your products as well as adding his own new thing, such as a mask or new leave in product.

#acotar #acofas #acomaf #acowar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #morrigan x reader #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #nesta x reader #lucien x reader #tarquin x reader #eris x reader #elain x reader #amren x reader #acotar fluff #acotar headcannons #acotar fanfic

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dee-writes-angst · 2 months ago

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THE SUMMER COURT (Chapter Three)

FEATURING Lucien Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY Tarquin's court is beautiful, so dazzling it takes your breath away. If only that were the only thing...

CONTENT WARNINGS slight angst, besties, Tarquin being the cutie little flirt that he is, reader and Lucien get a lot closer, elain being a lost soul, reader hating Elain just slightly

AUTHORS NOTE this was a long time in the making and I'm still not sure if it's my favorite, but I couldn't deny you any longer. Hope you enjoy!! <3

SERIES MASTERLIST

The warmth of the Summer Court embraced you the moment you stepped off the carriage, the breeze carrying with it the scent of saltwater and sun-drenched fruit. Everything here felt alive—vibrant. The contrast to the crisp, golden hues of Autumn was immediate and intoxicating. Lush greens and deep blues stretched out before you, as if the land itself had been painted by the sea and sky.

You barely had time to take in the view when a melodic voice interrupted your thoughts.

“I see the Summer Court has blessed us with a rare visitor.”

The voice, rich and warm like the afternoon sun, drew your attention to the tall, silver-haired High Lord approaching you with a charming smile. Tarquin’s presence was magnetic, his bright eyes shimmering like the clear waters that surrounded his court. He stopped in front of you, his gaze lingering with unmistakable interest.

“And who might this radiant visitor be?” Tarquin asked, his voice low, the question almost teasing as his gaze flicked briefly to Lucien before returning to you.

“High Lord Tarquin,” Lucien greeted tightly from your side, his tone clipped but polite. His hand was tense at his side, fingers flexing as if he was fighting the urge to do something—anything. The rigid set of his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened with each word Tarquin spoke didn’t go unnoticed.

“Lucien Vanserra,” Tarquin replied smoothly, nodding in acknowledgement but his attention quickly returning to you. “But I was speaking to the beautiful lady by your side.” His smile widened, and the playful glint in his eyes suggested he was well aware of the tension his words were causing.

“I—” you began, unsure how to respond to the High Lord’s flirtatious greeting.

“Ah,” he said before you could finish, taking your hand gently and pressing his lips to the back of it. “I apologize for being forward, but I believe that if I had met someone so lovely before now, I would surely remember it.” He let go of your hand but not before his thumb brushed your knuckles lightly, lingering in a way that sent a flutter of warmth up your spine.

Lucien shifted beside you, clearing his throat. “We’re here on business,” he said, his voice a touch firmer now, as if trying to pull the conversation back on track.

“Of course, of course.” Tarquin finally relented, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Business. Well then, allow me to introduce you to someone who will ensure your stay in the Summer Court is nothing less than perfect.”

He turned to gesture at a woman who had been waiting nearby, her expression composed and welcoming. She was tall, with sun-kissed skin and long, dark hair that gleamed under the warm sunlight. Her deep blue gown fluttered slightly in the breeze, and her soft eyes held a kindness that immediately put you at ease.

“This is Anna,” Tarquin introduced with a sweeping motion. “She’ll be your guide for the next two weeks while you stay here. Anna knows every hidden cove and secret passage in this court. If there’s something to discover, she’s the one to show you.”

Anna stepped forward, smiling warmly as she inclined her head slightly in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she said, her voice as smooth and calm as the tides that lapped the shores nearby. “I’ll do my best to ensure your time in the Summer Court is both enjoyable and productive.”

“Thank you,” you replied, offering a smile in return, though you couldn’t help but notice the tension that still radiated off Lucien. His gaze flicked between Tarquin and Anna, but he gave a brief nod in her direction.

“Anna will take excellent care of you,” Tarquin continued, but the mischievous gleam hadn’t left his eyes. “And if you find the time to explore more… personal delights, don’t hesitate to call on me.” His voice dropped an octave on the last few words, clearly directed at you.

Before Lucien could respond, Anna took a step forward, cutting off any further tension. “I’ll show you to your rooms, and then we can discuss the itinerary for your stay,” she said with an inviting smile, steering the conversation away from Tarquin’s teasing.

With that, you, Lucien, and Anna began your walk toward the stunning architecture of the Summer Court’s palace, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the distance. As you walked, you could feel Lucien’s eyes burning holes in the side of your head, though he remained silent, his thoughts likely as turbulent as the waters surrounding this sun-soaked kingdom.

As you walked through the lush gardens of the Summer Court, the vibrant surroundings should have been enough to distract you—the heady perfume of flowers in full bloom, the salt-kissed breeze from the sea, the soft calls of exotic birds perched in tall, swaying trees. Marble pathways lined with seashells and opalescent stones shimmered beneath your feet, catching the sun like the Summer Court itself had been woven out of light. The palace in the distance, with its towering spires and cascading fountains, was a breathtaking display of wealth and power—each column and arch sculpted with the sea in mind, the architecture almost appearing to ripple like water.

But your mind wasn’t fully present, not really. As beautiful as the Summer Court was, the events of the previous night in Spring still gnawed at you, replaying over and over in your head like a haunting melody. The argument between Lucien and Tamlin echoed in your thoughts, their voices sharp and bitter, cutting through the beauty around you.

“...can’t keep doing this, Tamlin. You need to let go—holding onto this anger, this guilt, it’s tearing you apart.”

Lucien’s words had been so full of frustration, his voice tight with emotion. You hadn’t meant to overhear, hadn’t meant to be drawn into their private battle, but something about it had pulled you closer, kept you there, listening.

Elain.

Lucien had never mentioned her to you before. Not once during your travels to the Spring Court. Not during any of the tense silences that had grown between you whenever the conversation drifted toward his past. But that night, it was all laid bare—an open wound that had yet to heal, a name that seemed to cut deeper than any blade.

Her name had been like a slap to the face, a reminder of the bond that tethered Lucien to a woman who wasn’t here—who didn’t want him. The weight of it had settled into your chest like a stone, making it hard to breathe. You’d felt his tension, the way Tamlin’s cruel words had hurt him, and in that moment, something within you had shifted. The dynamic between the two men had been painful to witness—Tamlin’s bitterness, Lucien’s tightly controlled anger, and beneath it all, a deep well of sorrow that neither seemed willing to acknowledge.

“...she’ll never love you, Lucien. Not like that.”

Those words had hit you harder than they should have. You weren’t sure why. Perhaps because you could feel Lucien’s heart breaking, piece by piece, as if Tamlin’s cruelty had shattered something fragile inside him. Or perhaps because you saw yourself in that moment, in the idea of wanting something—someone—so desperately, but knowing that it could never be.

As you followed Anna and Lucien, the opulent surroundings of the Summer Court seemed to blur at the edges, dulled by the storm of thoughts swirling in your mind. The palace’s towering columns and turquoise mosaics became a backdrop, muted by the emotions that clawed at you, refusing to let go.

The hallway leading to your rooms opened up into a massive courtyard, where crystalline fountains bubbled merrily, water dancing in the air before splashing back into the pools. Marble statues adorned the space, each one delicately crafted, depicting Summer’s High Lords and Ladies of the past, their faces serene and noble. But even here, in the midst of such grandeur, your thoughts drifted back to that tense exchange, to the coldness in Lucien’s voice as he left Tamlin behind.

“I’m done here, Tamlin.”

Lucien’s voice had been so quiet, so full of finality, that it had chilled you to the bone. You had been ready to retreat back to your room then, unwilling to intrude any further, but the weight of what you’d heard had followed you like a shadow.

Anna’s voice broke you from your thoughts, her tone pleasant as she led you up the wide stone steps to the palace entrance, her voice a welcome distraction from the storm that had been brewing in your mind.

“The palace is one of the jewels of the Summer Court,” she explained, waving a hand at the grand structure ahead. Sunlight streamed through the coral-like latticework, casting shimmering patterns along the smooth, polished floors. The doors were crafted from pale wood, inlaid with pearls and mother-of-pearl, and as they opened, the cool, inviting air of the palace swept over you.

Inside, the walls seemed to glow, adorned with intricate murals of ocean scenes—mermaids, sea creatures, ships on glittering waves—all masterfully painted in hues of blue and silver. Each room you passed was a display of the Summer Court’s wealth: delicate chandeliers that resembled drops of seawater, curtains of sheer fabric that fluttered like waves in the breeze, and expansive windows that opened to breathtaking views of the sparkling sea.

Yet despite the elegance and grandeur, a knot remained tight in your chest.

Lucien had been quiet since you’d left the Spring Court—more so than usual. Even now, walking beside you in the Summer Court’s warm embrace, he was distant, his brow furrowed, his steps measured. You knew he was thinking of her—Elain. Perhaps he’d been thinking of her for a long time, ever since your journey began. Maybe that’s why he had taken up this emissary role. Maybe his heart had never been here, with you, in these courts. Maybe it had always belonged somewhere else, with someone else.

The thought stung, though you tried to push it aside, focusing instead on the breathtaking beauty of the palace. It wasn’t like you had any claim to Lucien’s heart. He had always been an enigma to you—charming and polite, yet guarded. He wore his smiles like armor, his laughter like a mask. You had seen glimpses of the man behind the facade, yes, but only glimpses. And now, knowing what you did about Elain, you wondered if you’d ever truly know him.

“This is your wing,” Anna announced as she led you through another archway, her voice still warm, though she seemed to sense the heavy atmosphere between you and Lucien. “Your rooms overlook the sea, and there’s a private terrace where you can enjoy the sunrise. I’ll let you get settled, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

You nodded, offering her a polite smile as she left, but your thoughts were already slipping back to Lucien, to the weight of what you had overheard. You paused before entering your room, glancing at him, hoping to find some clue in his expression, some hint of the emotions he was holding so tightly.

But his face was as unreadable as ever.

“Are you alright?” you finally asked, your voice soft, hesitant.

Lucien glanced at you, his golden eye glinting in the soft light. He looked tired—more tired than you’d ever seen him. “I’m fine,” he replied, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

You wanted to press, to ask about Elain, about the argument, about what it meant for him, for you, for this journey. But the words caught in your throat. Perhaps now wasn’t the time. Perhaps you weren’t ready to hear the truth.

With a quiet nod, you both turned to your respective rooms, though the distance between you felt greater than ever.

That evening, as the sun dipped low over the Summer Court, painting the sky in shades of amber and violet, you found yourself alone in your room, the soft lapping of waves from the nearby sea a distant but constant lullaby. The earlier events of the day still weighed on your mind—Lucien’s quiet brooding, the beauty of the Summer Court, the conversation with Anna—but for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to simply breathe. The room, bathed in the soft light of sunset, was peaceful. The sea breeze stirred the gauzy curtains around the large windows, carrying with it the scent of salt and warmth, a promise of more to come.

A knock at the door pulled you from your reverie.

"Come in," you called, expecting Anna or perhaps even Lucien. But when the door opened, it was Tarquin, the High Lord of Summer himself, who stepped inside, his smile as radiant as the sun that reflected off the sea outside.

"Good evening," he greeted, his voice a low purr, smooth and inviting. His gaze flickered around your room before settling on you with a twinkle of mischief. “I hope you’re settling in well. Thought I’d stop by and make sure our guest of honor was being treated properly.”

You couldn't help but smile at his charm. "Everything is perfect. Your court is beautiful, I can see why so many speak of it so highly."

Tarquin leaned casually against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m glad to hear it, but I imagine you’re used to beautiful places by now, being an emissary. Autumn is quite… striking in its own way, wouldn’t you say?”

You shrugged, still not entirely accustomed to your new title. “I suppose so. But honestly, I haven’t seen nearly as much of the world as I’d like.”

His brows lifted in surprise. “Really? I would’ve thought someone like you—someone with the fire I saw in your eyes when we first met—would have traveled to every corner of Prythian by now.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, though there was a hint of sadness to it. “That’s the dream, at least. It’s why I accepted this position in the first place. The High Lady of Autumn… she helped me achieve it, even if I wasn’t so sure at first.”

Tarquin’s curiosity piqued as he moved further into the room, taking a seat on the edge of a nearby chair, his eyes never leaving yours. “How so?”

You glanced toward the window, your gaze lost in the deepening hues of the sunset for a moment as you collected your thoughts. “I met her before I even knew who she was. At her coronation, of all places. We started talking, and I told her about my dream—how I wanted to see the courts, to experience everything Prythian has to offer. I thought she was just being polite at the time, listening to some stranger ramble on about an impossible dream.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “But then she offered me the position, said it was the perfect way for me to travel and see the world.”

Tarquin smiled, his eyes softening as he watched you. “Sounds like she saw something in you. Something worth nurturing.”

You shook your head slightly, still a bit overwhelmed by the memory of how quickly your life had changed. “Maybe. It all happened so fast, I wasn’t sure if I should accept it. I’ve always wanted to do this on my own, and part of me felt like taking the offer would mean I didn’t earn it, that it was handed to me.”

Tarquin leaned forward, his gaze steady, thoughtful. “You earned it. And besides, even if it was handed to you, what matters is what you do with it. You’ve already made the decision to be here, to be part of this journey. That’s no small thing.”

His words made you feel lighter, more at ease with your decision. You smiled, meeting his gaze. “You’re right. It’s just… a lot to take in.”

“I can imagine,” Tarquin said, standing from the chair and moving toward the window where the breeze ruffled his silver hair. “But from what I’ve seen of you so far, you’ll do just fine. If anyone can handle the adventure of traveling the courts, it’s you.”

You laughed, the tension in your chest easing. “You barely know me, Tarquin.”

His eyes sparkled as he turned to face you, leaning casually against the windowsill. “I’ve got a good eye for people. Comes with the job, I suppose. And I know someone with a true hunger for life when I see them.”

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest, not from his flattery, but from the genuine ease he exuded. Tarquin, unlike so many other High Lords, didn’t carry the weight of his power like a burden. Instead, he wore it like a second skin, comfortable and light. His charm wasn’t a weapon but a gift, and you found yourself appreciating his company more than you had expected.

The two of you continued to talk well into the evening, the conversation flowing as naturally as the waves outside. Tarquin regaled you with tales of the Summer Court—its festivals, its politics, its people—and you found yourself laughing more than you had in days. He had a way of making everything feel light, fun, as if the weight of your responsibilities could be cast aside, even if only for a moment.

At one point, he suggested a game of sorts, challenging you to guess which famous Summer Court landmarks you could see from your window, and before long, you were both leaning out the window, pointing out various spots, sharing stories and laughter that echoed into the night.

For the first time since you’d left Autumn, you felt a spark of excitement—not just for what lay ahead, but for the now. For this moment, in this beautiful place, with someone who made you feel truly seen. And as Tarquin smiled at you, his eyes twinkling with warmth and amusement, you found yourself thinking that perhaps this journey might turn out even better than you’d hoped.

The next morning, you walked into the bright, sunlit dining hall of the Summer Court palace, the smell of freshly baked bread and sea salt filling the air. The grand windows overlooked the sparkling turquoise waters of the sea, and for a brief moment, the sight alone lifted your spirits. You spotted Tarquin immediately, already seated at a long, marble table adorned with an impressive spread of tropical fruits, pastries, and delicacies that made your stomach rumble. He grinned broadly when he saw you, waving you over with the casual ease of someone who had known you for years.

"Good morning!" Tarquin greeted, his voice warm and inviting, like the sun itself. "I trust you slept well?"

You smiled, sliding into the seat across from him. "Surprisingly well. Your court really knows how to spoil a guest."

"Only the best for the emissary of the Autumn Court," he winked, offering you a plate of pastries. “I was going to have them bring in some special Summer Court wine, but I figured you’d need your strength after yesterday.”

You laughed, easily falling into the light banter that had started between you the night before. "Very considerate of you. Though I have a feeling you were just looking out for yourself. You wouldn't want me beating you in any of your landmark guessing games."

Tarquin’s laugh was light and contagious, filling the room with warmth as he leaned back in his chair. "Maybe I like a little competition."

Just then, the mood in the room shifted as Lucien entered, his steps clipped, his face set in a grim scowl. The stark contrast between his mood and the easy camaraderie you’d shared with Tarquin hit you instantly. Lucien looked like he’d barely slept, his usual sharp amber gaze clouded with something darker. His jaw was tight, and you could practically feel the stormy tension radiating off him.

“Morning,” Lucien muttered stiffly, barely glancing at either of you as he took his seat next to you, his movements sharp and deliberate. He grabbed a slice of bread, ripping it with more force than necessary.

Tarquin, ever the observant High Lord, raised an amused brow as he took in Lucien’s clear irritation. His lips curved into a subtle smirk, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke. "You're in quite the mood this morning, Lucien. Didn’t sleep well?"

Lucien grunted in response, avoiding eye contact. His focus remained fixed on his plate, but the way he clenched his fork told you all you needed to know about his mood.

You exchanged a glance with Tarquin, trying to suppress your amusement at Lucien’s clear discomfort. Tarquin, however, seemed more than happy to prod.

“I suppose it’s none of my business,” Tarquin began, the tone of his voice too innocent to be genuine. “But it’s curious, really. You’re normally so composed, Lucien. I wonder what your mate would think of this mood of yours?”

The moment the word ‘mate’ left Tarquin’s mouth, you noticed how Lucien’s grip tightened around his fork, his knuckles white. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he kept his gaze locked on his food. The silence that followed was thick, charged, and suddenly your amusement faded, replaced by a sinking feeling in your chest.

Tarquin’s comment echoed in your mind—mate. Lucien’s mate, Elain, the woman you’d overheard him and Tamlin arguing about back in Spring. A woman who, by all accounts, didn’t want him. You’d heard the pain in Lucien’s voice that night, felt the raw hurt in his silence after Tamlin’s cruel words. And now, sitting here beside him, with Tarquin’s teasing and Lucien’s simmering tension, you couldn’t help but be reminded that whatever had been building between you and Lucien—even if it was just a shared sense of companionship—was nothing compared to the bond he shared with another.

The weight of that reality settled over you like a stone.

Lucien didn’t respond to Tarquin’s comment, but the damage was done. The mood at the table shifted, the air suddenly heavy with things unsaid. Tarquin glanced at you with a raised brow, clearly amused by the change, but you found your appetite fading. The easy conversation, the laughter—all of it felt distant now, replaced by a reminder that Lucien, no matter how drawn you might feel to him, wasn’t someone you could afford to get close to.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes as you picked at your plate. Tarquin, ever the master of social dynamics, seemed to sense the shift in your mood and moved the conversation onto lighter topics, though his gaze lingered on Lucien’s tight-lipped silence with a knowing glint. Still, you couldn’t shake the lingering weight of that one word.

Mate.

By the time breakfast was finished, the easy camaraderie from the night before had evaporated, leaving you with the uneasy reminder of boundaries you hadn’t realized you’d already begun to cross. And as you left the dining hall, Lucien walking in tense, brooding silence beside you, you couldn’t help but wonder if Tarquin’s remark had been more than just a tease—if it had been a warning. A reminder of what you couldn’t have.

The awkward silence between the two of you stretched on too long-- so long, in fact, that you were trying desperately to clear your dry throat. You wanted to ease the tension between the two of you, but at times like this, it felt nearly impossible. Nevertheless, you could no longer stand it. “Lucien,” you started softly, your voice hesitant but warm, “want to take a walk with me along the beach? It’s too beautiful of a morning to waste inside.”

Lucien’s amber eyes flicked to yours, his surprise evident for a moment before his face softened, the tension in his brow easing slightly. He nodded once, wordlessly accepting your invitation. Together, you strolled down the shoreline, the breeze tugging at your clothes, the sea whispering in the background.

The soft sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as you walked along the edge of the Summer Court’s shimmering beach. The sand beneath your feet was warm, the golden grains shifting with every step. It was a breathtaking morning, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting the sea in hues of pink and gold. You glanced to your side where Lucien walked, his shoulders still tense from breakfast, his expression distant. The breeze ruffled his auburn hair, strands catching the sunlight like fire.

For a while, neither of you spoke, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. You could feel the weight of something unspoken lingering between you two—the ghosts of breakfast and what you’d overheard in the Spring Court lurking in the back of your mind.

Finally, you gathered the courage to break the silence. “Lucien… about what Tarquin said this morning.” You hesitated, searching for the right words, watching the way his shoulders tensed again at the mention of the High Lord. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything uncomfortable, but I overheard you and Tamlin arguing the other night, and I heard her name—Elain.”

At the mention of his mate’s name, Lucien’s face tightened, his steps slowing. He turned to look at you, his gaze guarded, as if unsure of how much to reveal. The air between you grew heavier with each passing second, but there was something in his eyes that told you he was considering it, weighing whether to let you in.

“She’s my mate,” Lucien finally said, his voice quiet, the words heavy with emotion. “But she… she doesn’t feel the bond. At least, not the way I do.”

You swallowed, the ache in his voice twisting something inside you. You’d known there was pain there—had felt it even before hearing his argument with Tamlin—but hearing him admit it so plainly sent a pang of sympathy through you.

Lucien sighed, his gaze drifting out to the sea. “I thought I would be enough. That if I gave her time, if I was patient, maybe… maybe she would come to care for me. But it hasn’t happened. Every time I see her, I can feel the distance, the wall she’s built between us. And I don’t blame her. The bond was forced on her. She didn’t ask for this, and she certainly didn’t ask for me.”

There was a vulnerability in his words, a rawness you hadn’t seen before. It was as if he’d dropped the mask he so often wore, the sly fox that hid his true feelings finally stepping aside. You could see the depth of his hurt, the way it weighed on him, the way it made him question his worth. And in that moment, something shifted between the two of you.

“I can’t imagine how hard that must be,” you said softly, your heart aching for him. “But, Lucien, from what I’ve seen, you care for her deeply. You’ve given her space, and that… that says more about you than anything. You’re not trying to force her to love you. You’re just giving her time to figure out her own feelings.”

He turned to you then, his amber gaze locking onto yours, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “It doesn’t feel like enough,” he admitted, his voice low. “It feels like I’m just… waiting. And I don’t know how much longer I can do it.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to offer some kind of comfort, but you hesitated. Instead, you chose your words carefully. “Sometimes the hardest thing to do is wait for someone else to figure things out. But that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of love, Lucien. You deserve someone who sees you, who loves you for who you are—not because of a bond, but because they choose you.”

His gaze softened, and for the first time since you’d met him, Lucien looked at you with something more than polite interest. There was a connection in that moment, an understanding that passed between you two, and it left you feeling both closer to him and more vulnerable than ever.

And that’s when you felt it. A dangerous tug deep inside you, a fluttering in your chest that you hadn’t expected. You realized then, with a suddenness that knocked the air from your lungs, that you were falling for him.

It was terrifying.

Lucien, with his broken heart and his unwavering loyalty to someone else, wasn’t yours to fall for. You were the emissary of the Autumn Court, traveling with him out of duty, not personal desire. He had a mate—someone he was bound to, even if she didn’t return his feelings. And yet, here you were, standing on the shores of the Summer Court, your heart betraying you as it fluttered in your chest.

You swallowed hard, turning your gaze out to the ocean to hide the emotions you knew were creeping onto your face. This was dangerous. Falling for Lucien would only lead to heartbreak. You couldn’t afford to get caught up in whatever this was—whatever this connection between you two might be.

Lucien exhaled deeply beside you, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, more thoughtful. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I guess… I guess I just needed someone to listen. So, thank you.”

You smiled softly, though your heart was still racing. “I’m glad you felt like you could talk to me. And I’ll always be here to listen, Lucien.”

He smiled back at you, a small, grateful smile, and for a moment, everything felt lighter. But as you both turned back toward the palace, the weight of what you’d just realized settled heavily on your shoulders.

You had begun to fall for Lucien Vanserra. And you had no idea what to do about it.

As the sun dipped lower into the horizon, casting the last golden rays over the ocean, you and Lucien made your way back toward the Summer Court palace in silence. The soft sound of waves accompanied your footsteps, and though neither of you spoke, the weight of everything that had passed between you hung heavily in the air.

Lucien walked beside you, his presence warm and solid, yet there was a vulnerability in him now that you hadn’t seen before. His walls had come down, if only for a brief moment, and it made you ache for him—for all the pain he’d been carrying alone. You kept stealing glances at him, at the way his jaw was set, at the tension in his posture, and at the flicker of sadness that seemed to follow him even now.

When you finally reached your door, you turned to face him, your heart thudding in your chest. Lucien hesitated for a moment, his amber gaze lingering on you before he offered a soft, almost weary smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

"Thank you for the walk," he said quietly, his voice dipping low, soft, like he was afraid to disturb the fragile moment between you.

You smiled back, though it felt bittersweet. “Of course, Lucien. Anytime.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, his mouth parting slightly, but then he closed it again, shaking his head. “I should let you get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

You nodded, feeling an unexpected pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving. But you didn’t want to push him. Lucien had already opened up to you more than you’d ever expected. “Goodnight, Lucien.”

He stepped closer, and your breath hitched as he gently took your hand, bowing slightly as he brought it to his lips. His touch was warm, sending a soft current through your skin as his lips brushed lightly against the back of your hand. When he looked up at you, there was something in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat—something tender, unspoken.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. And then, with one last glance, he turned and walked down the corridor, his figure soon disappearing into the soft shadows of the palace halls.

You stood there for a long moment, your heart racing, watching him until he was out of sight. Then, with a heavy sigh, you pushed open the door to your room and stepped inside.

As you leaned against the door, closing it softly behind you, the ache in your chest deepened. You sank onto the edge of your bed, your hands resting in your lap as you stared blankly at the walls, trying to steady your swirling thoughts.

Lucien Vanserra.

It was foolish, you told yourself. Dangerous, even. He wasn’t yours to fall for. He had a mate—someone the universe had chosen for him, someone who, despite it all, still held a piece of his heart.

Elain.

You couldn’t stop the bitterness that crept in at the thought of her. Elain, the one who was supposed to be everything to him, the one he longed for, even though she didn’t seem to want him in return. How could she overlook someone like Lucien? How could she not see what you were starting to see—the depth of his loyalty, his strength, his kindness hidden beneath the sharp edges?

A flicker of anger ignited in your chest. It wasn’t fair. Not to Lucien, not to you. Elain had been given a gift—a bond with someone like Lucien—and yet she kept him at arm’s length, leaving him to suffer alone. And here you were, falling for him, feeling more for him in these few short days than Elain had shown in all this time.

You hated her for it—for the way she could cast him aside, for the way she made him feel unwanted, unloved. You hated the way she made him question himself, made him feel like he wasn’t enough when he was more than enough.

But that hate didn’t change the reality of the situation. Elain was still his mate, and no matter how much you felt for him, no matter how much you wanted to take away his pain, that bond remained. You would always be the outsider, the one who wasn’t supposed to fall for him, the one who could never have him.

With a heavy sigh, you pulled back the covers of the bed and slipped beneath them, the ache in your chest growing stronger. As you closed your eyes, exhaustion creeping over you, the weight of everything—of Lucien, of Elain, of this impossible situation—pressed down on you.

But even as sleep pulled you under, one thought remained, clear and undeniable.

You were falling for Lucien. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

The next morning greeted you with the warmth of the Summer Court’s sun spilling into your room, the golden light seeping through the sheer curtains and kissing your skin like a gentle promise. You stretched beneath the soft linens, your heart lighter than it had been in days. After a night filled with restless dreams of Lucien’s smile, of the look in his eyes when he spoke of Elain, the ache in your chest hadn’t completely vanished—but the anticipation bubbling within you for the day ahead managed to soothe it, even if only for a little while.

You dressed quickly, excitement rushing through your veins as the thought of exploring this beautiful court—the court you’d dreamed of seeing—propelled you forward. The day was waiting for you, filled with possibilities you had never dared to hope for. After a quick breakfast, you met Lucien and Anna in the palace’s grand courtyard, the bright morning sun casting long shadows over the cobblestone paths lined with lush greenery and delicate blossoms that seemed to sway in time with the breeze.

Lucien was already waiting for you, leaning casually against a marble pillar, his auburn hair catching the light like copper set aflame. His amber eyes softened as they landed on you, a faint, teasing smile tugging at his lips as you approached.

"Ready for today?" he asked, his voice a low hum, the warmth of it sending a flutter through your chest.

You nodded, heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite place, your gaze briefly flicking to Anna, who stood beside Lucien with a radiant smile. Her easygoing demeanor mirrored the court itself—bright, open, welcoming. “More than ready,” you said, trying to focus on the excitement bubbling within you rather than the way Lucien’s presence seemed to settle something deep inside you.

"Then let’s get started," Anna chimed in, gesturing toward the path leading from the palace into the heart of the city. Her sun-kissed skin glowed beneath the morning light, and her laughter was contagious as she led the way, her enthusiasm making it impossible not to feel excited for what was to come.

The moment you stepped beyond the gates of the palace, you were struck by the sheer beauty of the Summer Court. The streets were alive with color and movement—white-washed buildings lined the cobblestone paths, their blue-tiled roofs glistening in the sunlight. Bright awnings shaded the numerous market stalls that spilled out into the streets, the vibrant fabrics rippling in the breeze, each one more vibrant than the last. The air was filled with the scent of saltwater and citrus, mingling with the sweet aroma of tropical flowers that grew in wild abundance along the pathways.

Merchants called out from their stalls, their voices cheerful and melodic as they displayed wares you could only have dreamed of—delicate glasswork in brilliant hues, fabrics so fine they seemed to shimmer in the light, jewelry that sparkled like stars. Everywhere you looked, there was life—children darted between the crowds, their laughter rising like music over the hum of conversation. You felt a pang of wonder deep within you, as though you had stepped into a world spun from pure magic.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you whispered, your gaze sweeping over the bustling streets, the gleaming rooftops, the sprawling ocean that sparkled just beyond the edge of the town. The water was a deep, endless blue, stretching out toward the horizon, the sunlight glinting off its surface like scattered diamonds.

Lucien chuckled softly beside you, his voice warm and amused. “The Summer Court does have a way of making the impossible feel possible.”

You glanced up at him, catching the way his eyes seemed to glow in the sunlight, softer now than they had been before. There was something different about him today—less guarded, more at ease. The tension that had been gnawing at him for days seemed to have eased, if only slightly.

“Thank you for this,” you said quietly, sincerity in your voice. “I’ve wanted to see the Summer Court for as long as I can remember.”

His amber gaze held yours for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “I think… I needed this too.”

A flush of warmth spread through you at his words, but before you could respond, Anna appeared beside you, her arms full of bright, exotic fruits she had just bartered for at one of the stalls.

“Try this!” she urged, handing you a piece of fruit the color of a setting sun, its skin smooth and cool beneath your fingers. “You can’t leave the Summer Court without tasting this—it’s one of our best-kept secrets.”

You took a cautious bite, your eyes widening as the sweet, tangy flavor burst across your tongue. It was like nothing you had ever tasted before—bright and fresh, as if it had captured the very essence of the Summer Court itself. Anna grinned at your expression, clearly pleased with your reaction.

“You’re right,” you laughed, wiping juice from your chin, “I can’t leave without eating more of these.”

Lucien’s low chuckle joined yours, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest. The three of you continued on, visiting more shops, more stalls, more hidden corners of the Summer Court that Anna eagerly shared with you. Everywhere you went, there was something new to marvel at—beautiful seashell jewelry, hand-carved figurines, dazzling glass orbs that captured the light in such a way that they seemed to hold miniature suns within them.

With each passing hour, you found yourself growing more and more comfortable in Lucien’s presence. What had once been a tense, delicate connection between you now began to deepen into something more solid, more real. You shared quiet moments between the bustling excitement—stolen glances, soft words, laughter that bubbled up from within you as easily as the sunlight fell across your skin.

At one point, as the three of you stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean, Lucien leaned closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “You look happy today,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping over your face. “It suits you.”

The words sent a jolt of warmth through you, and for a brief, dangerous moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like if things were different. If he wasn’t bound to someone else. If you didn’t feel that constant ache in your chest whenever you thought of her.

But the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and you forced yourself to focus on the beauty of the day, on the warmth of the sun and the laughter that filled the air. You weren’t ready to let go of this—this feeling of closeness, of connection, even if it was temporary.

By the time the sun began to set, casting the sky in shades of pink and gold, you found yourself standing with Lucien and Anna at the edge of a lookout point, the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before you, sparkling like liquid gold beneath the fading light. The three of you stood in comfortable silence, the beauty of the moment washing over you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt at peace.

But even as the joy of the day lingered in your heart, you couldn’t shake the growing realization that you were falling for Lucien. Hard. And that was a dangerous thing.

Because no matter how close you grew, no matter how much you cared for him, he would never be yours.

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