#the way i would have run into lucien's arms

[shadowqueenjude]

The Inner Circle only tolerates Feyre because she's Rhysand's mate.

Lucien was Feyre's first friend in the Fae world. He loves her for her.

The Inner Circle "befriended" Fae Feyre.

Lucien befriended Feyre when she was still human.

The Inner Circle refuses to call her out on anything, insisting she's always in the right (unless she questions Rhysand).

Lucien, like any true friend should do, is not afraid to call Feyre out on her shit.

The Inner Circle acts like Rhysand is a fucking angel.

Lucien was the only one who brought up Feyre's sexual assault under the mountain and questioned Rhysand's morals.

Y'all can't compete.

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY

☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!

☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s

☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀

RHYSAND

“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”

“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”

Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead

He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.

“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.

“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight

Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.

Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.

“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”

He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy

In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban

The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.

“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer

Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…

YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹

ERIS

“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”

He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.

“Is that so?”

You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.

“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”

You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.

Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated

And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.

But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house

You are a mess. An absolute mess

You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.

The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time

When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.

When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired

When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.

After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in

“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.

“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”

He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses

“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”

You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed

“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head

AZRIEL

“Okay.”

That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.

But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered

In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside

Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most

So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist

He sluts around the house

Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out

Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.

Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.

He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.

Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.

You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.

CASSIAN

Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.

Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.

“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”

Tha man is flabbergasted

He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that

Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it

He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban

Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch

A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.

An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.

Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.

No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together

After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.

You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day

Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really

When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom

Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days

Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr

LUCIEN

Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate

“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.

You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.

Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.

“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.

He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.

“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”

You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.

“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”

You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile

“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.

He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good

Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work

🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial

[azrielsdove]

Destined: Lucien x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Very Light Smut, 18+

***

You stormed out into the dark gardens, hot tears running down your face. You kicked a wad of dirt and let out a scream, fists clenched at your sides. How could he? You wanted to sink into the ground and cry at the injustice of it all.

“You shouldn’t have found out like this.” You whipped around to the red-haired male standing behind you.

“How long did you know?” You demanded, eyes narrowing. His gaze cast downward, guilt exuding from him.

“Not too much longer than you,” he said carefully, focusing on the grass beneath his shoes.

“Why did you not tell me the second you found out? Are we not friends, Lucien? Do you not care for my well being? You allowed me to be played a fool in front of the entire Court!” You couldn’t help the rise in volume in your voice, anger and pain waging war inside of you.

He finally looked back up at you. “I assumed he was going to tell you gently, in full privacy. I did not expect him to act in such a way during dinner.”

The anger rushed out of you just as fast as it had come, your knees hitting the ground as the pain of what had happened set in. Tears slid down your face, falling on to the dirt below. “How could he do that to me?” You said quietly, as Lucien knelt down in front of you.

“I do not know,” he spoke, in a voice so soft you almost couldn’t hear him, his hands slowly reaching out to pull you close. You allowed him to do so, letting your tears fall on his shoulder.

Tamlin had been the love of your life. The two of you had been inseparable since you were babes, growing up alongside each other. When he became High Lord you stayed by his side, comforting him through the great losses he had suffered and encouraging him to live up to the new title he held. You had always assumed you would one day be his wife, forever there to wipe away the stresses of a long day. To birth his children, filling the Spring Court with little blonde heads. The next generation of perfect little princes and princesses. It was written in the stars of your skies, the undeniable truth of your future.

Until tonight.

When he stood before the entire Court with a fae you’d never seen wrapped around his arm. He introduced her as his bride. All the while you stood dutifully on his other side, just like you always had. Every eye was on you, confusion palpable in the air. Tamlin acted like you were never even there, glancing right past you as he looked around the room with a grin. He spoke about how he met her on one of his excursions to the local towns, how she was tending the most beautiful garden he had ever seen.

How it was love at first sight.

A wave of nausea had rolled over you, causing you to bolt from the manor. Which lead you to now, crying your heart out to Lucien. “Have I been a fool, Lu? All these years, were they nothing?” He held you tightly, one hand stroking your hair gently.

“He never spoke of it. I assumed as you did, that the two of you were made to be High Lord and wife. We all did.” You cried harder, holding onto his jacket like it was your lifeline.

“Who is she?” You asked, not sure you wanted to really know the answer.

Lucien sighed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I do not know her. He says he met her on one of his travels. He never spoke of any such thing until one week ago, when he told me he had found his wife-to-be. I asked him if he was going to finally propose to you,” he paused, as if fighting to continue. You pulled your head up to look at him, eyes shining in the moonlight.

“And what did he say, Lucien.” You already knew, in your heart, but you needed to hear it out loud. He shook his head, looking up to the night sky as he spoke.

“He laughed. And he said ‘Why would I marry my whore? She was always meant to be my mistress, was she not?’” He looked back down at you, meeting the pain in your eyes with his own. “I did not know how to respond. I asked if he was going to tell you about her, and he said he was going to soon. I wanted to run and tell you right then, but…” He sighed once more. “How was I to ruin your life like that?”

You stayed silent for a long time. Pain, anger, and betrayal rushed through your blood, stabbing you as much as they could. You were torn, angry at Lucien for not telling you the second he found out, and angry at the trust the both of you had in Tamlin. He watched you carefully, waiting to speak until you did.

“Where do I go from here?” You whispered, heart broken. You could not return back to the rooms you shared with Tamlin, you weren’t even sure you could stomach going back into the manor. Into the home you were raised in. Lucien stood and gently helped you to your feet, keeping one arm wrapped securely around your waist.

“Come with me. I’ll set you up in my rooms tonight, and in the morning light we will figure out what to do. Is that alright?” You nodded in agreement, allowing him to lead you inside. He took you in through the workers entrance, avoiding the dinner party that was still loudly going on. You made it to his rooms without interruption, relieved when the doors were firmly locked behind you. Lucien sat you on the edge of the bed before busying himself around the rooms. You stared into nothingness until he came to kneel in front of you, a warm wash rag in one hand and a nightshirt in the other. "Let’s clean the night off,” he soothed, beginning to wipe your makeup away.

You studied him as he did so, the slight furrow in his brow signaling his focus. The flecks of gold in his green eye, the intentional whirring of the mechanical one. A strand of auburn hair fell into his face and you had to restrain the urge to swipe it away, to let your fingers drag softly against his freckled skin.

He was beautiful.

He was your friend.

You had just been betrayed by the king of your heart mere hours ago.

It was wrong to feel this way.

Though nothing else felt right.

Lucien finished cleaning your face off, interrupting the mental battle you were in. He paused when his eyes met yours, looking at you curiously. “Anyways,” he said, clearing his throat, “I thought this would be more comfortable to sleep in than that dress.” He handed you the nightshirt, gesturing to the elegant gown you were in.

The one you had chosen with Tamlin in mind. Long flowing skirts, subtle greens, and a corseted back-

A Corseted Back.

“Oh, no, I can wear this. It’s fine.” You tried to brush it off, setting Lucien’s shirt to the side.

He stared at you. “Surely you can’t be serious. That looks awfully uncomfortable to sleep in.” He was right.

But you would need his help to undo the back, and the thought of his fingers touching your bare skin was…overwhelming.

Why were you feeling like this? Your heart was broken so you had to latch on to the next best thing? No, you wouldn’t act this way. Not to Lucien. You could go to town tomorrow and find a rebound if you wished.

“No, it’s uh, rather comfortable actually. Very…soft. So, that’ll be all then.” Neither of you moved. He cocked his head slightly to the side, puzzled with you.

“Do you need help taking it off?”

Your jaw dropped. “I-Excuse me?”

A slight blush appeared over his cheeks, accompanied by an awkward laugh. “No, no, I just meant the lacing seems extensive on the back. I can help you undo it if you need.” He picked up on your apprehension quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll be a complete gentleman about it, I promise.”

You gave in, a small smile making its way onto your face. Lucien always knew how to handle a situation. He helped you stand, turning tog to face away from him so he could inspect the long ribbons weaved together.

He slowly started undoing the ties, treating them like they were delicate petals and would tear if he pulled too hard. You turned your head to tell him he needn’t be so careful, at the same time he leaned forward to ask you a question. The two of you paused, noses nearly touching. The world stopped spinning as you stood there, a breath away from each other. His fingers resting lightly on the exposed skin of your back, fires scorching across your body. All the pain from Tamlin was a faraway thought, a trivial moment in the past. Lucien was all that mattered.

Until he cleared his throat, taking a small step back. You shook your head slightly, clearing your mind of what just happened. The both of you spoke at the same time.

“Sorry, I-“

“Lucien-“

You paused, nodding so he could go.

“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t tugging too hard or anything,” he said, continuing to undo the ribbons. You smiled softly, turning your head back forward.

“I was only going to tell you that you don’t have to be so cautious,” you called over your shoulder, noting the way his hands stilled for a moment at your words.

“Ah,” he responded, finishing the rest in silence.

Once the back was unlaced you took his nightshirt and slipped into the bathroom to change, your dress falling into a heap on the floor. You looked at with a frown, the fabric stunning even like this. You had just known Tamlin would love it when you presented the idea to the seamstresses, so excited to debut it tonight.

Guess you weren’t the only one with something new to show off.

You kicked the dress away and turned your back on it, heading back to the bedroom. Exhaustion finally rolled over you and you were ready to fall into bed.

Luciens bed.

With, it appears, Lucien. Who was already tucked under the covers, reading a book. He peered over the top of it at you.

“Oh, sorry, is this okay? I can find somewhere else, probably, if you want,” he began, already pulling the covers away. You waved your hands for him to stop, crawling into the bed next to him.

“No, Lu, it’s your bed. I appreciate everything you have done already.” Your head rested on the pillow, eyes already closing. “And i’m so tired I wouldn’t care who was lying opposite of me.”

***

You woke to warm sunlight brushing over your face, tucked safely in someone’s arms. You hummed happily as you nosed their bare chest, inhaling the scent of woodsy smoke and cinnamon.

A loud crash ripped you out of your peaceful bubble, accompanied by Tamlins shouting.

Wait.

Tamlin?

Who was next to you then-

Lucien.

Lucien.

You shot upright in a panic, eyes wide as Tamlin continued his yelling. Seemingly at the male in bed with you.

“I GIVE YOU MY TRUST, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME? BRINGING MY MISTRESS INTO YOUR BED? THAT IS AN INSULT TO THE HIGHEST DEGREE, LUCIEN!”

His mistress?

You frowned at the term, sliding out of the bed and crossing your arms in front of you.

“I am no such thing, Tamlin. And back off of him. He was only being kind after you acted like a right bastard last night.” The High Lord spun slowly to look at you, having the audacity to look confused.

“Well, what else would I call you then?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “24 hours ago I would have said your future wife, but apparently those plans were made without me.” He stared blankly at you, as if he had never even thought of you in such a way.

“I thought what we had was…casual. Fun. I never saw you as, well, the wife of a High Lord.” He spoke so bluntly, as if it was obvious to all.

“Really, Tamlin? I, who was raised in this Court right alongside you, could never have handled being your wife? What is it you think I do, then?” Your blood was simmering, anger threatening to explode at any second.

“Oh, I don’t know, to warm my bed when my wife didn’t wish to? To care for me in ways she wouldn’t wish to?”

You were disgusted. “Is that all you think of me? We were friends, Tamlin, or so I thought. I gave you my heart and you ripped it out and stomped on it in front of everyone who’s ever known us. Did you notice how your Court didn’t jump with excitement at your announcement? Or is your skull too thick to see what’s right in front of you?” You were yelling at him now, but it was too late to stop. Lucien had come to stand behind you, one hand resting on your upper arm, grounding you. Tamlin took note of his touch, eyes flickering between his hand and your face.

“Can’t have bothered you that much if you’ve already moved on to fucking my emissary.”

You lunged forward with a feral scream, Lucien quickly wrapping his other arm around your waist to hold you back.

“You do not wish to attack him right now,” he murmured in your ear, “he is still the High Lord. You must keep composure.” You knew he was right, forcing yourself to calm down enough to kick Tamlin out of the room.

“Go,” you commanded, pointing to the door. “Just go.” You were embarrassed by the way your voice cracked on the second ‘go’, tears once again threatening to fall. Lucien pulled you back into his chest, hiding your face away from Tamlin.

You knew he had left when Lucien lead you back to the bed, setting you down on the edge and pulling away just enough to look down at you. His fingers brushed the tears off your cheeks as he cupped your face, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

“We can go, you know. I may not be well loved in the Autumn Court, but we could go there. I have a home on the border, close to Spring. One that no one bothers.”

You leaned into his touch, only half listening to his words. Lucien had always been able to calm you down, to soothe you even in the darkest moments.

“I can send a letter to my mother at once, to prepare it for us. We can live there for as long as you wish, if that will please you.” It was then that you locked in to what he was saying, to what he was offering. You pulled out of his touch, standing from the bed.

“You would do that for me?” You asked, disbelief written on your face.

Lucien gave you a sad smile. “Haven’t you figured it out? I would do anything for you.”

You knew it was true.

You had always known it was true.

He had been by your side as much as you had been by Tamlins. Your friendship played before your eyes, all the years the two of you had spent laughing and crying together. The way he comforted you when you were worried about Tamlin being away, how he would sleep on the cold floor of your room just so you weren’t alone. How he lit a fire amongst his fingertips when the dark made you uneasy, allowing you to watch the flickering flames until sleep took you.

Lucien had always cared.

Your body moved of its own accord, rushing over to him and tossing your arms around his neck. You hugged him tightly, overcome with emotion. He held you just as close, an unspoken confession flowing between your hearts.

It had never been Tamlin, you could see that now. He was simply the one you believed you were supposed to be with. Duty calls and all that. For years you had felt the tug in your heart, but you had been reading it wrong. You followed it to the wrong male.

You pulled back just enough to see Lucien, bringing one hand up to cup his face.

“How did I miss it, all these years?” You whispered sadly, thumb gliding over his cheek. “You were right in front of me. I feel like a fool.”

Lucien smiled, leaning his forehead down to rest upon yours. “You are no fool. You were only living the life that was paved for you. Why would you have looked elsewhere?”

You hummed in response, becoming lost in the closeness of him. In the weight of his hands on your waist, the stubble you could feel under your fingers. His breath that ghosted over your lips with every word, a silent whisper that drew you ever closer. You tilted your head up just enough that with your next word, your lips would brush his.

“Will you kiss me, Lucien?”

He was on you before you’d even finished the question. His kiss sent a flame through your body, an intense desire unlike any you had felt before. This ran straight to your soul, igniting every inch of you.

His arm came to circle fully around you as the other crept to the hem of the nightshirt you still wore, sliding under it just enough to rest upon your thigh. You felt alive, like you had been sleeping for a hundred years and the stars themselves had come to wake you. You sighed into his mouth as he kissed you, feeling like everything was as it should be.

You whined as his lips left yours, until they continued their transgressions down the side of your neck. You moaned his name as he bit down on your pressure points, light teeth marks left in his wake. You needed him, desperately.

The hand on your thigh slid slowly up, tracing the soft planes of your stomach. His fingers ran under the band of the silk underwear you wore, teasing you. You arched against him, silently begging for him to touch you. You could feel his smile against your skin before he brought his face back up to yours, joining your lips again. His fingers slid under the fabric that was covering you, gently gliding over to where you craved him. He circled your clit with all the elegance of a dance, treating you like priceless artwork. You cried out when one finger entered you excruciatingly slowly, begging for more, more, more.

The door swung open.

Lucien stilled, turning his head slowly to see who was standing there. Your panting breaths were the only sounds in the room as the kitchen maid held your tray of breakfast in shock.

“You can set it there, thank you,” Lucien said, nodding to the small table against the wall. She gladly set it down and quickly turned to leave as he called, “And please lock that damned door behind you!”

***

The Following Autumn

You sighed happily as you looked around your home, pleased with the decor you had found in the local village. A soft blanket with gentle orange and reds scattered throughout it laid upon the sofa, calling you to curl up under it. A fire roared in the grate, warming the house.

You moved to the kitchen to start dinner, waiting patiently for Lucien to return from his hunt. Coming back to the Autumn Court was not an easy transition for him, yet it had gone surprisingly smooth. His father may not have happily welcomed him home, but his mother surely did. Even a few of his brothers seemed pleased to have him back. He kept his emissary role here, continuing the endless meditation between this Court and Spring.

Tamlin had wed his bride days after the two of you had fled the Court, amongst clear disdain from the fae there. They wanted you, and did not take to the one in your place.

However, last you heard, she was holding up quite well. You wished no ill will towards her, not now. It was not her fault that her now-husband was a spineless sack of shit.

The door opened and you turned to see Lucien, a smile decorating your face. He took off his shoes and set down his bag before rushing over to you and sweeping you up into his arms. You kissed him with all the love in the world, at peace when he was home. “How is my lovely wife today?” He asked, setting you back down. You looked at the sparkling ruby set in bronze on your finger, still in awe of its beauty.

“As happy as ever, aren’t I? With a husband like you, how could I not be,” you teased, pressing a swift kiss to his lips again.

Yes, this was exactly where you were destined to be.

***

i loved writing this so i hope you all enjoy reading it just as much ❤️

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Welcome Home | Azriel x Cassian x Female Reader | One shot 3k

After a mission away your bat boys return to the comfort of home and their beautiful mate. The three of you have a lot of catching up to do, but first, a bath.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content & language, slight d/s themes, pet names, dirty talk, wing play,p in v, anal, dp, bath sex, shower sex.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian - Can Yaman, Azriel - Avan Jojia images from Getty.

Created for @polyacotarweek prompt 2 - comfort

Masterlist | Poly Fics | Azriel | Cassian

Azriel and Cassian had been gone for a week this time, somewhere unknown, they had left from the roof of the House of Wind, their Illyrian leathers freshly polished.

You’d waved them off, tears in your eyes, unsure of when you would see your.boys again. 

But tonight was the night, as the candles that decked the corridors of the House had extinguished behind you, swirling shadows had tangled at your feet, whispering to you. Now it wouldn't be long until their Master was beside you as well. 

The clock on the mantle ticked around to 3am when Cassian finally cracked open the door to your rooms. Slowly, inching into the dark room, his wings caught on the door as they dragged tiredly behind him. 

Azriel followed, dropping his own pack to the floor and kicking off his boots as quietly as possible. 

“Sweetheart?” Cassian called softly, while Azriel’s shadows spread out, disappearing into the gloom in search of you. 

Creeping up the side of the chaise like ivy, they reached your shoulder and curled around your ear, tickling you awake. 

You'd tried to stay awake, slumped on the sofa, waiting for them, until sleep overtook you, lulling you down into the crouched position they found you in now, curled in on yourself. 

“Boys?” you mumbled, sleep still clinging to you even as you tried to drag your eyes open, “You’re home.”

Cassian smiled, kneeling in front of you and cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing you on the forehead. “We’re home, sweetheart, all in one piece.” 

“Are you hurt? Do you need anything?” Your brain slowly kicked into gear, worry clouding your joy at the General’s return, hands running up his arms to feel for any bandages. “Is Azriel with you?” 

“I’m here, baby, and we’re safe and well.” He ran a hand up your bare arm and then kissed you too, quickly and chastly before pulling back to run his eyes over you, checking that you too were well, fed and happy. 

“Good, my boys,” you reached both hands out, touching their cheeks in turn and pulling them to you, “are you sure you don’t need anything?”

“We’re just dusty and muddy. I could do with a wash and I really want to kiss you again right now.” Cassian laughed, sitting back on his heels so he could look at you properly. 

His head was heavy with what looked like caked mud, his usual long waves weighed down in limp grey tendrils around his face. Even the little lines of his cheeks and eyes seemed to be picked out with it. You leaned down, your lips fitting against his perfectly, as if you were made to kiss each other forever. Despite his clothes and the dust settling on the carpet, his lips were soft as they moved over yours, picking up where he left off when you said goodbye.

Azriel hadn’t fared any better, but he was quietly watching you, those hazel eyes of his roving over your own body, making sure you were safe too. 

Reluctantly, you pulled away. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” You sat up, pushing your blanket to the floor. Cassian kicked it away and Azriel scooped you up into his arms.

You ran your hands into his hair, picking out debris with a laugh. Even their leathers was filthy, the white dust of limestone shining against the pitch black leather.

“What happened to you?” You lay your head against his shoulder and began fiddling with the straps of his armour as he led the way to the large bathing room. 

“Best not to ask,” Cassian grumbled, “Blame Lucien if you have to blame someone, setting fires and cracking walls. We all got showered in it. You can imagine how upset Rhys is!” He chuckled. 

You giggled too, remembering Rhy’s face the last time his pristine suit got dirty. Azriel jostled you in his arms, “he was very upset.” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, turning into the bathing room and letting his wings flare a little, dust and debris falling from between them too, the veins and creases of his delicate wings filled with soot. 

“You two should rinse off before you get anywhere near the tub,” you pointed at the cubicle in the corner of the bathing room. You’d asked Rhys for one after he’d had a similar thing specially commissioned for Nesta, it stopped your beautiful sunken tub from getting filled with mud and dust after your boys got back from training, missions, daily life - how they managed to get so dirty just existing was beyond you. 

As an incentive you began unbuckling Azriel’s leathers further, letting them drop to the floor, before you could turn to help Cassian too the male was behind you, his hands on your hips. 

“Are you going to join us?” He hummed in your ear, the feel of his chest vibrating against your back, his powerful arms surrounding you sent heat straight to your core. 

“It’ll be very lonely without you, baby.” Azriel’s hands were on you now too, pulling up the sheer nightgown you’d worn, hoping for this very moment when two sets of battle weary hands would strip you back out of it. 

“There she is,” Cassian’s hands moved up from your stomach to cup your breasts, your nipples hardening. Azriel bent forwards, latching his lips onto one nipple and then the next, flicking and teasing them until they ached. 

You let your head drop back against Cassian’s chest as Azriel moved lower, kissing down your stomach until he knelt on the floor at your feet. Scarred hands ran up your legs, his thumbs tickling the inside of your thighs, tantalisingly close to wear your silk underwear clung to your slick folds. 

His hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and stopped there, staring up at you. 

Cassian’s large hand crept up over your sternum and wrapped loosely around your throat, holding your head back. Despite his gentle hold your breath stuttered out of you. 

“Good girl, ask him nicely if he’ll take them off for you.” 

He let go, only enough for him to use his thumb on your chin to tilt your head down to look at the famed Illyrian warrior, his wings spread out around him, his eyes glowing in the faelight. 

“Puh-please take them off, Az.” 

He began sliding them down your legs, carefully lifting your feet in turn and then throwing them behind his back. 

As he stood he let his fingers dance up between your legs, barely skimming over the slick that stuck your thighs together, before laying his hand over Cassian’s and claiming your mouth. 

“We missed you so much,” Cassian crooned, pressing wet kisses up the side of your neck, “couldn’t wait to get home to our little sweetheart.” 

Your heart was pounding, the thick heat of the streaming bathroom only making your body slicker and hotter. Cassian sucked your ear lobe between his teeth, worrying the delicate flesh until your knees buckled and Azriel had to take your weight, sliding his thigh between your sweat slick legs.

“Shower-” you moaned brokenly, trying to get Azriel to step backwards under the rainforest showerhead. He relented, allowing the hot water to drip from his hair like summer rain. “Let me - ugh - wash you.” Every word was a struggle against the on-slaught of pleasure from both warriors. 

Cassian moved away, the loss of his body heat sending goosebumps flaring over your skin. Behind you the sound of water splashing into the enormous tub filled the room. 

Azriel stepped away too, lifting his face into the water and rubbing his hands over his face. You followed, wrapping your arms around his waist and allowing your hands to find the sensitive spot where his wings met his back. 

“What are you doing, baby?” His gaze snapped down, sending water flying. 

“Let me wash you,” you pouted, two scarred hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed the pout from your lips. But then he turned, kneeling on the floor of the shower so you should reach him. 

The lavender soap was slippery in your hands, filling the shower area with its sweet, floral scent. 

You began with his shoulders, rubbing the knots away with your thumbs and then sliding your hands over his shoulders, suds revealing hints of the detailed tattoos that hid beneath, fingers brushing over the hard nubs of nipples before squeezing the soft muscle of his pecs playfully. 

Cassian, hair now slicked back from face, stepped behind you in turn, guiding your hands back to Azriel’s shoulders. 

“Just - here,” he nuzzled into the soft spot below your ear, moving your hand between Az’s wings and then pressing. 

In front of you Azriel moaned, a deep sound that bounced off the tiles and vibrated up your legs. Cassian chuckled behind you and pressed again. 

“Wicked, both of you, wicked, teasing -” he stood and turned, crowding you back against Cas until all three of you were in the corner of the shower, kissing and laughing while Azriel tickled up your sides. 

“Hmm, time for the bath I think,” Cas wrapped his arms around you, reaching for Az. 

“I agree,” you nodded, breathless. 

Tearing yourself away from their searching hands and hungry kisses, you added a large squeeze of bubble bath to the filling tub. You barely had time to turn around again before Cassian hauled you into his arms and kissed you.

“Fuck, I missed you, baby, you’ll stay with us in the bath, right?” His hazel eyes, so full of lust just moments before, were clouded with something else too, a fear, a need to be close. 

“How can I say no to you, Cas?” You looked down into his gorgeous face, clean now after his quick shower, glowing in the steamy room.

“Good,” Az sighed into your ear, the feeling of his shivering shadows creeping up your legs and around your waist. 

Surrounded, you were entirely surrounded by them and it was exactly where you needed and wanted to be. Between your boys, safe and loved and close, just the three of you in the sanctuary you’d created. 

“Good!” Cassian echoed, climbing into the overflowing water.

“Cassy!” You giggled, sloshing the water as you both got comfortable before Azriel climbed in too. 

The tub was enormous, large enough for both males and their impressive wingspans, but you crowded together anyway, needing to feel them. You leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss to Azriel, revealing in the contrast of his cold shadows on your cheeks and his warm, full lips gently parting your own. 

Cassian’s grip on your hips tightened, “where are you going?” he tugged you back into his lap and nuzzled kisses into your neck. “I’ve gotta feel you, baby,” he hummed, settling your hips directly over his so you could feel the hard length of his arousal between your legs. 

Gods you’d missed this, the way your pulse raced and your body reacted for them. Your legs falling further open and your hips grinding back against him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, we can’t flood the bathroom again,” Azriel groaned, remembering the last time the three of you had taken a bath together, the whole floor had been soaked within minutes, soap and suds dripping out of the floor length open windows into the jasmine scented sky. 

“Just - let me -” he nipped gently at your shoulder, “feel you then.” You never could resist when he turned on his puppy dog eyes, how could you when they were so full of want and desire and the tip of his cock was nudging between your legs in that sinful way. 

You knew exactly what he wanted and you needed it too, reaching between you, you took hold of his hard cock and lined him up against your entrance, sinking down slowly. The first inch was always the hardest, his thick head stretching you, the pressure against your clit so sudden and delicious you could barely keep your eyes open. 

And then you felt Az’s shadows on your cheeks again and you opened your eyes to meet his, dark with lust and need while he watched you sink back down into Cassian’s lap with a gasp. 

Open mouthed, you gasped harder, feeling him so deep inside of you after so long was a welcome shock. 

“You look so beautiful like this, sweetheart.” Azriel’s voice was a low purr, each word punctuated by his shadows skittering over your skin, dancing between the dappled candlelight. 

“Az-” you moaned, leaning back against Cassian once more, ever your rock in this sea of pleasure. 

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered into your ear, soft and low, “taking me so well, taking such good care of me.” He pressed a kiss behind your ear, hands squeezing your hips. “But I think Azzie is lonely over there.” He tipped your chin back up to look at Azriel again, one arm resting on the tile surround, the other under the bubbles, his arm moving slowly as he pumped his cock. “Why don’t you keep him company?” 

Azriel met you searching hand with his own scarred palm, lacing your fingers together and drawing you closer. With a whimper you allowed Cassian’s cock to slip free, instantly feeling lost and empty without his firm, grounding presence. But Azriel was quick to help, situating you on his lap, knees spread wide around his hips and the wide head of his own cock nudging against your entrance. 

He swiped a hand over your forehead, beads of sweat forming from the heat of the bath, down your cheek and neck, his thumb pressing up just a little as it brushed under you chin. It was like you couldn’t breath, taking in his gentle touch, the caress of his hand over your nipple and down your side before he corsetted your waist with his fingers. And then you were lowering on to him too, taking every delicious inch that he had to offer. 

“You feel heavenly, baby,” he whispered, nosing at your jaw and nipping at your throat while you rolled your hips. “Would be a shame not to share you.” 

The water swirled around you both and Cassian’s scent heightened as he drew closer, his hands over Azriel’s at your waist and then dipping lower, lower, tracing the dip at the small of your back and slipping under the water to cup the round swell of your bottom. Massaging and pressing, his fingers touching the delicate skin that stretched so tight around Azriel’s length and then pulling back to circle the your tight pucker. 

“This okay, sweetheart?” He breathed and the feel of his lips on your cheek, Azriel’s on your shoulder, their bodies slick and hard and wanting surrounding you had you whimpering again, clinging to them. You’d take everything they would give you, every touch, every kiss and every inch. 

“Yes - yes - Cassian - please.” You begged, letting your head fall back against him, that familiar movement, that let you feel safe in his arms, that let you gasp and shudder as he pressed inside, knowing they would keep you here on the precipice of pleasure. 

“Fuck-” he brought his other hand around your chest, pulling you tight against him, cupping your breast in his large palm. “You’re perfect - perfect.” He grunted, a second finger joining the first and your mouth fell open in a silent shout. 

“Gods damn, Cassian, I can feel you.” Azriel shut his eyes, leaning into your chest and laving at your free nipple, he sucked the stiff nub into his mouth and worried it with his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose in his efforts to stay still. 

You could feel Cassian’s answering smirk on the cooling skin of your shoulder and then, just as suddenly, deep inside where he curled and spread his fingers. 

“Cassie,” you whined, shifting down into the full feeling, trying to move yourself while trapped between the two Illyrian males and finding no give in their embrace. “Please.” 

You didn’t need to beg further because Azriel took up your cause, barking at Cassian to hurry up before he embarrassed himself. His fingers were gone in an instance, replaced by the blunt, wide head of his cock and then - “Cass-” his name was punched from your lungs, leaving you breathless and floating between them. But they didn’t move. 

Together, you soaked in the bubbles for a few minutes, connected again after so much time apart, each intake of breath making them shift inside of you, sending sparks of heat across your skin. They were here, with out, safe and unharmed. 

 The aching of their initial thrusts gave way to a deep, dull, yearning for more. You clenched around them, trying to stay still but finding it increasingly difficult to stop your body moving, it was drawn to them, needing to feel them moving and loving you as much as they needed to hold you.

Azriel pulled away from you and opened one eye. “Baby, you need to stay still.” His soft, sleepy voice rolled over your skin, igniting your need further, he had fallen as deeply as you, hypnotised by the flickering candles, your combined scents and the closeness that you all craved. 

“Az, I can’t,” you cried, biting into his shoulder to stop your moans as your hips found the perfect pressure, “I missed you both so fucking much.” 

You hooked one arm around his shoulder and the other behind you to tangle in the messy of Cassian’s curls. 

“Fuck,” Cassian grunted, “I’m trying to be good here, don’t wanna make a mess like last time” He chuckled thrusting up anyway, the water swirling around the three of you and spilling over the sides of the tub and across the pearlescent tiles. 

“I don’t care, I don’t care, I just need you, please, fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Frantically, you moved your hands and kissed Azriel roughly before turning your head to capture Cassian’s lips too. 

“Okay,” Azriel smiled, a secret smile that only you and Cassian ever saw, “but remember you asked for it.”

He gripped your hips again, fingers bruising tight on your hips, and thrust up, chasing his release. 

“Fuck, Azriel,” Cassian groaned behind you, biting into your shoulder and starting to move in contrast to Az. 

“I love you,” you moaned, eyes closed, lost in bliss. “I love you both so much.” Your climax hit you like an arrow, your whole body clenching around them as your walls fluttered, drawing them ever closer to their own release. 

“Love you too, Sweetheart.” 

“Love you, Baby.” 

They growled in unison cumming hard, Azriel bent his head back into your chest, nipping at the soft swell of your breast. Cassian dug his fingers into your waist, pulling you down onto them one last time. 

You stayed there, sandwiched between them, matching smiles on your sated faces, until the water went cold and the bubbles faded. 

[tadpolesonalgae]

Finding out you have a vibrator — headcanons

a/n: anon <3 request—I think they’d be a little grumpy at first, but then they’d join forces and would be absolutely awful (but in the best way possible 🧡💛)

warnings: smut, blindfold + crying w/ Az, implied oral (f! recieving) w/ Lucien

Rhysand:

“And what’s this?” Rhys asks, a smug note in his voice.

You turn around from where you’d been reorganising your desk, finding your mate reclined on the bed, playing with the familiar looking toy. Heat warms your cheeks, and you stride over to him, reaching for it.

“Don’t go riffling through my things, Rhys,” you snap, leaning to ply the toy from his large palms.

His grin widens, hands instead gripping your hips as he hauls you atop him, bringing you to settle over his hip.

“I thought you liked it when I…explored,” he muses softly, mouth brushing against your own as his palm grazes your spine, having you arch lightly.

“Me,” you murmur, settling into his hold. “When you explore me. Not what’s in my side tables.”

“Is that right?” He drawls, holding down one of the small buttons, until the toy starts whirring faintly. “How about we do a little exploring now?”

“Rhys…” you warn, hand wrapping around his wrist as you eye him warily. “I need to be cleaning my desk. Don’t you dare…”

But he lightly presses the whirring toy to your collar bone, dragging down, guiding the vibrator over your breast, circling your nipple lightly. “Mmhm, I’m sure you’d just love to go back to cleaning right now. Not sitting still and letting your loving mate give you some pleasure.”

Your throat rolls, and he trails the toy lower, guiding you so your legs sit either side his thigh. “You’re so mischievous,” you mutter under your breath.

His smirk widens, pressing another button so the buzzing increases, holding your gaze as he trails the toy lower, then slipping it between your legs and his thigh.

“You love my mischief, wife,” he whispers onto your lips, grinning.

“Just a little,” you murmur breathlessly, the vibrations soaking into your heat, whirring against your clit so deliciously.

His eyes twinkle, and warning bells ring dully in the background.

“Let’s see how much mischief you can take,” he muses, switching the toy to a higher setting.

Cassian:

You flush, trying not to fumble as the vibrator rolls out along with your other toiletries.

“Hm? What’s that for?” Cassian asks, sneaking up on you with surprising grace for someone as large as him, powerful arms wrapping comfortably around your waist, resting his chin atop your head.

“This? Oh, nothing,” you try, forcing a lightness into your voice. In honest you’d been packing in such a hurry you hadn’t checked what had already been in there from your last trip about…five years ago?

“It helps your skin to glow,” you fumble, “it massages a lotion in to help permeate through the…oils…”

“Is that so,” he replies, chuckling lowly, palm flattening over your lower abdomen, his heat sinking in as he lowers himself to nose at your throat.

You nod, breath catching when he begins pressing kisses up your neck, nipping at a spot below your jaw.

His laugh rumbles deep through his chest, having heat pooling between your legs as his hands wander lower.

“You think I don’t know what a vibrator is, sweetheart?” He drawls, lips grazing against your ear, your insides fluttering with the intimacy.

“I do have to wonder why you have something like this, though. Should I be giving you more pleasure?” He asks lowly, thumbing the toy from your hands, guiding it beneath the thin slip of your dress, running the tip over your heat teasingly.

“No, Cass…I’d— I’d forgotten it was even in there,” you answer, fumbling as heat short-circuits your mind, arousal tingling between your thighs.

“Uh-huh, sure you did,” he murmurs, nipping at your ear lightly, pulling your skirts up with his free hand so you can both watch as he presses the toy to your clit, holding the button down to have the rapid pulses zipping through it.

“Cass…” you pant, keeping your arms to your chest, subtly winding your hips against it, already so close to the edge from the sudden turn. How familiar he is with your pleasure.

“You should have brought this out earlier,” he remarks, rolling the toy over your clit, lightly dragging it up at down, shifting the amount of pressure he applies to it.

“You’re in for a long night now.”

Azriel:

“Az…” you mumble breathlessly, tears dripping down your cheeks, saturating through the silky blindfold. “A-Az…please…I can’t—…”

But he shushes you, powerful body curving over yours, chest pressing flush against your bare back, hot palm sliding over your lower abdomen, applying a slight pressure, keeping his hips pressed tight to the backs of your thighs.

“You’re taking me so well,” he murmurs, mouth brushing the side of your neck. “I know you like being good for me. So perfect at it, huh?”

You swallow thickly, whimpering softly, shifting on your elbows as you bite your lip, trying to slowly push back against him. The rope rubs at your wrists, bound comfortably, providing a tight constraint that put you at his mercy.

“Az…” you moan, back curving as you settle your front closer to the bed, breasts pressing into the mattress as you spread your thighs wider, trying to push against him to let him deeper. “Azriel…”

He groans from low in his throat, pulling away from your back as his broad palms settle around your hips, thumbs brushing over the small dips at the base of your spine.

“So good for me, aren’t you?” He praises, drawing his hips back slowly, if only to gently roll back in, using the cultivated muscle contained within his body to hold you against him, skin pressed tight.

“Want to try something else tonight?” He prompts, able to hear the faint smirk in his voice.

You whimper, squirming as you chase the feeling of his cock, how it touches those lovely spots, butterflies fluttering as arousal has your insides spasming with pleasure.

Azriel laughs lowly, chuckling softly as his weight shifts on the bed, your thighs trembling from pleasure, more tears dripping from beneath the blindfold.

“A-Azriel…?” You call weakly as you feel him shifting, stomach coiling with tension at what mischief he’s about to unleash upon you. You’re not sure if you can take it.

“You know, they’re inquisitive things,” he muses, finished reaching to whatever he was after. “Shadows,” he clarifies, trailing something lightly down your spine—…slowly. “You know they like you—want to know more.”

“Azriel…please…” you beg softly, trying to roll your hips against him, squeezing him, pulling him deeper.

“Mhmm? More?” He drawls, that unknown object trailing over your hip as he guides it closer to between your legs.

You flinch as he presses the object just shy of your clit, puffy and swollen from his relentless stimulation, and your breath catches.

“Recognise that, huh?” He murmurs, once again curving over you, chest pressing flush to your back, wings flaring with mutual possession, keeping you tucked away with him. “Feels familiar?”

“Az, wait—”

“Want me to stop?”

You pause, squeezing him, spine curving a little more, and he presses a soft kiss to the side of your throat.

“No…”

Eris:

“Eris? Eris what are you—” You falter, seeing the small, cylindrical object he has between his fingers.

“Would you like to tell me why you have this tucked away?” He asks, raising his fiery eyes to yours with a disapproving look. “…Wife.”

You flush, lips parting as you glance away in embarrassment. “Eris, listen…I—”

“Stay there,” he orders idly, and you pause, teeth pulling at the inside of your lip.

You watch, heart fluttering in your chest as he walks leisurely past your chest of drawers, settling in one of the large chairs of your shared bedroom. All the while heat unspools between your legs.

“Lock the door,” he instructs softly, the order sliding down your spine, making you suck in a small breath.

Without hesitation, you turn, clicking the lock to your shared chambers, feeling excited, ready for whatever he wants to do.

“Come here,” he says, the stance of his legs widening as he settles back in the plush armchair, your spine stiffening as arousal prickles beneath your skin.

You walk over to him, heat warming your body with anticipation as you come to a stop between his parted legs.

He inclines his chin, watching you with hunger in his eyes, arms settled over the rests either side, holding the toy between his thumb and fingers. “Come here.”

Your heart flutters, heat flooding your lower body as you swallow thickly, lip being tugged between your teeth subtly as you put yourself over his lap.

“Eris?” You ask softly, hands starting properly on his broad shoulders, before relaxing into his touch, palms sliding down his front to the hem of his trousers.

“Why did you keep this from me?” He asks, raising the toy to pull your attention to it, keeping his gaze on you.

“I forgot about it,” you answer quietly, trying to hold still in his lap, not wanting to give him further reason to…whatever he has planned.

“Mhmm,” he hums, and your breath catches as his hands settle over your thighs, fingers gradually pulling up the fabric of your dress.

“And when was the last time you used this?” He muses, continuing to move your clothing out of the way.

“Uh…I don’t…I can’t remember…” you mumble, trailing off as his fingers dip beneath the band of your underwear, snapping it against your abdomen in reprimand.

“When was the last time?” He goads, free hand settling over your hip, holding the material up and out of the way.

“I…when you went away,” you answer breathlessly as he pulls your underwear back. “Two months ago…”

Eris hums, thumb stroking over the bare skin of your hip. “Better,” he says, “but you shouldn’t have hidden this, fawn.”

Your hips wind over him, grinding down as that arousal spools between your thighs.

“Eris…please…” you breathe, gazing at him.

“Please what?” He asks, pushing the toy to your clit, having you inhale shakily.

“More…” you ask, fingers pressing into his chest, feeling his heat beneath your touch.

“More?” He repeats, the edge of his mouth sharpening. “You sure about that?”

You nod, gasping when he holds the button down, and you fall against his chest, arms sliding over his shoulders as your thighs part further.

His hands splay against your waist, one brushing between your shoulder blades, holding you close.

“Remember you started this,” he whispers beside your ear, as you wind over his lap. “I’ll decide when to finish it.”

Lucien:

“Lucien…what are you doing?” You ask, coming back to find him sat in his chair by the window that overlooks the garden, book open in his lap, holding the whirring toy to the muscle at the back of his shoulders.

“Hm? This?” He asks, smirking as he holds the toy up. “Isn’t this what it’s for?”

“I…” you fumble, unsure how to reply. You swallow thickly, before holding up the basket of food you’d gotten from the market. “I’m going to put these away,” you excuse, hurriedly moving to the kitchen to unload.

He hums, chuckling as you flee to safer space, setting the basket on the table as you begin sorting your supplies into groups: jams, pastries, drinks, until you get down to the vegetables.

And realise how quiet he’s gone.

“Good haul,” Lucien murmurs beside your ear, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling your back to his chest. “Good timing too. I was getting hungry.”

You inhale sharply when he nips at your throat, licking at the length of your throat.

“Lu…” you breathe, heat warming your skin out of habit at the proximity of your mate.

“Hmm?” He muses, chest pressing into your back, bending you over the counter. “What is it?”

“Lu…” you murmur breathlessly, “what are you doing?”

He noses at the space below your jaw, shifting closer to your side as his hand rests at the top of your spine, keeping you bent over as he pulls your skirts up.

“You’ve kept this hidden from me, hm?” He asks quietly, a smug note in his voice as his hand slips between your thighs, pulling your clothing up so it settles at the curve of your back.

“I didn’t intend to…” you murmur, heat flushing your skin beneath his touch. “You’d be mean with it, anyway.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” he laughs lowly, “I think I’m lovely to you.”

“Only when it suits you,” you whine, legs parting a little wider as he holds the toy gently to your clit.

“And it’ll suit me very well to be good to you now,” he muses, and you hear the click of the button as he holds it down. “If you’ll be good for me, too.”

“I’ll be good,” you breathe, thighs trembling as the vibrations wash against your clit, sending heat melting through your body. “Just…please, Lu… No teasing.”

“No teasing?” He repeats, chuckling, clicking the button again to increase the intensity of the whirring. A moan is pulled from your lips, head dipping, pressing your face into the crook of your elbow as you pant breathlessly.

He hums, pressing a hot kiss to your throat. “Alright. No teasing.”

You sigh with relief, but then he’s pulling away, kneeling behind you while keeping the toy buzzing against your clit. “But I’m still hungry, Princess.”

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644

az taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch @nightcourt-daydreaming @assassinsblade @marvelouslovely-barnes @v3lv3tf0x @kalulakunundrum @vellichor01 @throneofsmut @vickykazuya

[sarawritestories]

Unwavering Presence Chapter 3

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

Summary: Y/N looks forward to the next time her and Feyre go to the Night Court. Choosing to stay out of the way in the Spring she is visited by the High Lord and threats are made. Few months of learning how to read and Feyre finally warming up to the Night Court, the next time they return to the Spring Y/N is caught of guard and chaos ensues.

Content Warning: 18+ brief depictions of abuse, Tamlin being a dick, Ianthe appearance, unwanted groping (Not from any of our beloved night court folks or Spring court), blood, separation.

Word Count: 5.6k

chapter 2 Masterlist

A/N: I'm sorry if it seems to be a bit sped up but I simply could not bring myself to write more filler chapters! I hope you enjoy!

After my argument with Feyre, I locked myself in my room for the three weeks. Feyre had tried to come apologize and she tried to come in, but I had made sure my door was locked. I didn’t really move from my chair other than to change and sneaking into the kitchen late at night to eat. To avoid running the High Lord, Lucien or my sister.

There had been a continuous warmth on my tattooed wrist, Rhys’ reminder that I wasn’t alone. On the bad days where sleep evaded me, I tried to send back a wave of appreciation, unsure if he could feel it. Chances were he we were sleeping when I sent so he probably didn’t even know, but I did appreciate him.

Feyre and I have never had many fights and it was even rarer that the fight had resulted in us not talking and working it out. The last time was right before Tamlin took us away.

Feyre slammed her bow on the table. “You should have been here. What were you thinking going out there?”  I scoffed as I dropped the wolf carcass on the table, facing my twin whose eyes flared with anger and a hint of fear. “You could have died!”

The door creaked open, and I glanced to see Nesta and Elain emerge from the bedroom. Their eyes went wide taking a look at the beast on the table. Our dad remained near the fireplace not acknowledging that Feyre and I had returned. Not like he noticed when we left. “Feyre, you could have died to. I have just as much skill at hunting like you, we work better together, and it worked out look at what we caught.” I held out my arm to show the wolf. “I love you, and I didn’t want you going out alone tonight. I’m glad I was there to help you take this beast down.”

Feyre blew up, “I could have killed you! I didn’t know you were there!”

I gave her a doubtful look and cross my arms, “I have been able to sense your presence since we have been children, you definitely knew I was there.”

Feyre ran her fingers through her brown hair not caring if she got blood in it. “Maybe I wanted to be alone, figured Nesta would give you some good quality time. At least she doesn’t despise your presence.”

My mouth dropped and quickly recovered, “Are you fucking serious, Fey? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Girls,” Our father croaked from his spot in the fireplace, only then that I noticed he was carving something in his hands. “That’s quite enough. Y/N your mother and I have taught you better than to use that type of language.”

I rolled my eyes, “Whatever you say.” I grit out and was about to push past my sisters when the door flung off its hinges and a beast with emerald eyes locked his gaze with mine.

A knock caused me to jolt from my seat and the book I was attempting to read on the table next to the chair, “Go away,” I yelled trying to conceal the fact the knock on the door frightened me.

The sound of the lock turning, and the door opens causing me to jump out of my chair, to see Tamlin strolling in. He shut the door and made a spectacle of locking the door. His eyes met mine and his eyes held nothing but cold and controlled anger. “Long time no see, Y/N.” He drawled and I tried not to shiver as fear locked up my joints. He slowly approaches me with his hands clasped behind his back, “You’re breaking Feyre’s heart you know. Locking yourself in here.” The sun from the window hit him and in any other situation I would have found his beauty mesmerizing, but his beauty looked sinister.

I crossed my arms and Tamlin takes notice of my tattoo decorating my skin before its tucked away. Feigning indifference, tucking the fear deep down and lifting my chin. “What do you want, Tamlin?” Shifting my weight back and forth.

Tamlin closed the distance, and I took a step back, “You’re coming down and having dinner with us tonight.”

I rolled my eyes, and I could hear the growl in his chest, “No thanks, as you can see, I’m quite busy here.”

Tamlin bared his teeth, “That wasn’t a request,” he took another step toward me.

“I don’t care,” I muttered and made the error of trying to step around him and in a flash, he gripped me and pinned me against the wall his muscled his hand moved from my arm and moved to my hip his free hand clamping down over my mouth. His gaze turned feral and crazed, letting his anger unleash and I could only produce a whimper through his hand.

He brought his face closer to mine and I could see the pure ire in his eyes. “Listen to me carefully. You are going to clean up, put on a pretty dress, come downstairs and apologize to Feyre for causing her stress and pain. Then you are going to eat in silence you will be seen and not heard.” I tried to yank my head, but he has my face in an iron grip, and he gripped my hip in bruising force keeping me pinned to the wall, “Like the good little human girl you are.” He released my face.

I quickly spat in his face, “Fuck-“he clamped his hand back over my mouth and I lashed against him.

Tamlin tsked, “No, no, the only thing I wanted to hear from you at all is ‘Yes Tamlin.’ And an apology to my soon to be wife.” He gripped my hip so tightly I gasped, and a tear slipped down my cheek. Tamlin kissed it away, the gesture going against his words. He met my eyes again his grin anything but comforting, “Blink if you understand, Y/N,” my name almost a snarl against his lips. I slowly blink and more tears fall. He lowers his face to kiss my forehead and I thrash my hands trying to push him away, but I couldn’t move him. He pulled away and released my body giving my cheek a not so tender pat, “Good Girl. Now go clean up there will be a dress on your bed,” he turned and made his way to the exit.

I wrapped my arms around myself, and I noticed Tamlin paused, “Oh and Y/N,” He turned his hand still on the handle, “Make no mistake if you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair. Feyre’s happiness is important to me I will do anything to keep a smile on her face.” With that he left, and I let the emotions of the interaction fully take over and slide down the wall and bury my face in my knees to stifle the uncontrollable sobs. I barely notice how warm and tingling my tattoo is through the tears.

Cassian’s POV

I sat in the lounge of the townhouse with Rhys, there was a throbbing in my chest that caused discomfort. I rubbed my chest, but the pain wouldn’t subside, it felt like my heart was aching. I creased my eyebrows sadness consumed me and I rubbed that spot tighter as I closed my eyes.

“Cass, you alright?” Rhys’ voice pulled me from the wave of emotion overtaking me.

“I just have this weird feeling; my chest feels tight.”

Rhys gave me his full attention, his glass of whiskey forgotten. “Do you need me to get Madja?”

I shook my head, “No, just feels like something is wrong.” Another wave overwhelmed me, I closed my eyes, and I took a deep breath to neutralize myself. When I opened my eyes, my brother had a painful expression on his face. He was gripping his glass tightly his knuckles were white. “What is it?” I asked.

Rhy formed his lips into a tight line, and he clenched his hands into a fist, “Something is wrong over there,” he gritted through his teeth as he rubbed his left arm, causing me straightened I didn’t need him to fill me in. “She is sending utter turmoil down the bond.”

I grimace, “What kind of male torments their partner like that. To cause that much dread.”

Rhys shook his head, his eyes meeting mine the stars winking out, “It’s not Feyre, Cass.” My grip on my own glass tightened, “It’s Y/N’s.” Rhys stood and downed the rest of his drink.

Rhys began to walk out, and I called out, “Where are you going?”

“It’s the beginning of the new month, brother.” Rhys turned and winked at me, and darkness consumed him as he winnowed out of town house.

Reader’s POV

After a bath and getting the tears to finally stop I walked into the bedroom, taking a look at my hip fortunately there was no bruising from Tamlin’s grip. A lilac dress was laid out for me. The gossamer fabric chaffed my skin. The skirts were heavy against my hips, the spot where Tamlin squeezed still tender, I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths and my wrist tingled. I looked down and grazed my tattoo calm washing over me, “Thanks Rhys.” I whispered.

I walked over to the door and opened it to find Feyre on the other side biting her nail, a nervous habit she started when we were kids. Her eyes widened as she saw what I assumed is my puffy eyes from crying, and in turn I saw how her eyes looked bruised and I know she has still not been sleeping, “Hi.” She whispered.

I drifted my gaze to my feet, “Hi.” I looked back at her and look at her thin frame and her sunken cheeks and Tamlin’s words flooded my brain.

You’re breaking Feyre’s heart.

Guilt racks through me as I lightly pull her hand from her mouth, “Feyre, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lash out at you.”

Feyre squeezed my hand, “No, I am sorry. I know that this transition has been hard on you. I should have been more considerate to your feelings.”

I gave her a small smile tears pooling in my eyes again, “Let’s just put it behind us,” I patted her hand with my trembling one.

If you don’t come down, I will drag you to the dining hall and tie you to the chair.

“Y/N, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you’re trembling like a leaf. Do you want to lie down I can tell Tamlin you’re not-“

“No!” I blurted, causing Feyre to step back stunned. I composed myself, smoothing my skirts willing my hands to stop shaking, “Let’s just go have dinner with our…friends.” Feyre beamed at me referring to Tamlin and Lucien as friends as I tried to keep the bile from creeping up. We made our way to the dining hall. The closer we got the more nervous I became even the comfort of the tattoo felt vacant. I was trying to keep my hands from shaking by keeping them clasped.

The doors opened as we approached and Lucien and Tamlin were standing in their seats, snarling at something and as we got deeper into the dining hall to find Rhysand his hand tucked into his pockets. Feyre stilled and I fought every instinct to run and hug him. “Fuck you, Rhysand, we are to have a nice dinner. You can’t just take them.”

“Per our agreement it doesn’t matter when I come pick them up in the month.” Rhys spoke with cool indifference. “But I am a reasonable male,” He turned to us, “Ladies, I’ll give you the choice you can enjoy the meal with the High Lord and his loyal pet,” Lucien scowled, “Or we can go right now.”

Feyre moved to her seat by Tamlin Rhys tracking her entire movement, “I would like to have a meal before being whisked away.”

Rhys pulled his gaze away from Feyre and met mine. For a moment, I looked at Tamlin and could see his lips move the message clear Sit down. I met his gaze to his and hoped he understood what I was trying to convey with my eyes as I began to move to the seat next to my sister.

Don’t leave, please don’t leave. Don’t go.

Rhysand meandered to a seat on the opposite end of the table as Tamlin growled the claws peeking from his knuckles, “They want to have dinner, you can come back when their done.”

Rhys pulled the chair and plopped in it kicking his feet up as if he owned the place. “Where’s your hospitality, High Lord? I think it’s best I stay and join you. I’m sure Feyre and Y/N wouldn’t mind.”

Feyre scowled and I just lowered my gaze, finding the skirts of my dress very interesting as I took a seat. “Fine.” Tamlin grumbled and food appeared on each plate filled with lavish meats and cheeses.

I looked at the table and Tamlin’s fierce gaze met mine, “Y/N, so wonderful for you to finally join us tonight, care to say anything to Feyre.”

“Tamlin, leave her be she already apologized to me.” Feyre scolded her hand gripping my thigh with a gentle squeeze.

Tamlin bristled and I shifted in my seat under his scrutinizing gaze, “Well I’m glad she apologized. Let’s try to have a meal together with everyone present moving forward.” I looked to Lucien who avoided eye contact with me...Coward.

Feyre gave a small smile, “Sounds great.”

I moved my food around with my fork, not having an appetite. I felt a prickle in the back of my mind. You need to eat. I tried to reign in the shock of Rhys’ voice in my head.  You BOTH do.

I looked at him, to see he was eating the food, but his eyes were locked on me and Feyre, I looked to my sister, and noticed she was doing the same thing. Looking at the High Lord of the Spring and his emissary, the two were engaged in their own conversation eating paying us no mind. I took a few bites of my food and out of the corner of my eye I saw Feyre following suit.

One the meal was finished Rhys stood and Feyre rising from hers, Tamlin reached to grab her hand and she casually moved her hand. I made a note to ask her about it when we’re alone. Feyre gave him a small weak smile, “We’ll see you in a week.”

A hand lightly gripped my shoulder, I looked up and met Rhys’ gaze, “Ready to go?”  I nodded and rose from my seat. His hand slid down my arm and gripped my hand. “Feyre Darling,” Her gaze met his as he held out hiss free hand for her to take. She approached him with less fury than the first time we went to the Night Court. When she places her hand in his we are consumed by the darkness, and we are back in Rhys’ home.  Feyre looked at me, “I’m going to go to bed. You are coming?”

Rhys gave Feyre a comforting grin, “She will be there in a moment. I need to talk to her real quick.” Feyre to my surprise give him a silent nod and her lips curve slightly upward and I swore that Rhys stopped breathing for a moment. “Good night, High Lord.” She said and turned and headed back to our shared room.

Rhys turned to me, and I averted my gaze to my hands that were interlaced.  “Y/N, look at me,” I refused and kept my gaze on my hands, look at me, please his voice echoed in your mind. I sighed and met his gaze, “What happened? I felt an unnerving turmoil earlier today through,” he grabbed my arm with the tattoo. “It was like you were screaming down the bond.”

I slipped my arm from his grasp, and he let me, “I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmured wrapping my arms around myself, “I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Rhys scowled, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. You don’t have to talk to me. But don’t ever say that I wouldn’t believe you. The pain I felt today was real your pain was real.” Rhys’ face softened, “Just don’t bury this down and forget about it, it will eat you alive, okay?”

 I gave him a nod and he turned to leave probably to head to his own room, “He pinned me against a wall,” I blurted, and it caused him to still, he turned, and I could feel the tears building up as I placed my trembling fingers over my mouth, “He clamped my mouth so tight I thought he would break my jaw and he gripped my hip to keep me pinned to the wall.” I sobbed and Rhys in three strides made his way back and without saying anything else wrapped me in his arms and I let the sobs take over and buried my face in his shirt. A comforting hand placed on back of my head and he rubs my back in almost a brotherly way. “I tried to push him away and I couldn’t,” whether he could understand the words and tears just wouldn’t stop. “He told me I needed to remain silent except to apologize to Feyre for locking myself in my room. He said that he going to tie me to a chair and force me there.”

Rhys arms were the only thing keeping me upright, “It’s okay.” He whispered pressed his cheek atop of my head, as my sobs racked out of my body. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do to help you.”

There was a calm emotion that slowed down my sobs slowed, I take a deep breath, “Can you help me not feel as weak and powerless as I felt today? I never want to feel that way again.”

“Yes, you will never have to feel that way again.” He pushed away and looked at me, wiping tears from my cheeks. “I can train you.” I nodded in agreement as exhaustion began to take over my body. “It’s been a long day,” I gave him another nod, “Want to go to your room?” He gripped one of my hands, “I can take you there.”

I shook my head and his brows furrowed, “Can I go to the library?” He smiled and gave the top of my hand he held a kiss.

“Of course, you can, let me take you.” I gave him a small smile and sniffled as he led me to the library. The small journey was quiet, but the door opened, and the books came into view. “Tomorrow, we can start your reading lessons I’m hoping your sister will want to partake as well.” I turned to him, and he held hope in his eyes that Feyre would be willing. “We can start training whenever you want, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”

He released my hand and began to walk away. I grabbed his hand again and he looked back at me, “I don’t know what I can say. What I can do to repay for your kindness.” And I wrapped my arms around his neck, “Thank you, Rhysand.”

He returned the embrace, “You don’t need to thank me.” He pulled away and cupped my cheek, “Have a good night, Y/N.” He places a chaste kiss to my forehead and heads deeper into the hall. I walked into the library and the fireplace lit and I welcomed the warmth as I sat on the large chair. Sinking into the cushion I laid my head back and in the comfort of the library my eyes shut, and sleep overtook me.

Cassian’s POV

She looked beautiful and peaceful on the library chair fast asleep. Rhys had casually let me know she would be there and before I went to bed after a long day in Windhaven, I stopped by to see if she might have needed anything and found her sound asleep. Rhys didn’t tell me what happened in Tamlin’s court, but he had mentioned that she was interested in training. The red around her nose and the smell of dried tears told me she had been crying and my mind only went to the worst-case scenario of what happened.

Leaning off the door I tucked my wings to not have them drag across the floor I approached, Y/N’s sleeping form, the way her neck was angled she would wake up in immense pain. I lightly scooped her in my arms trying my best not to wake her, she only stirred to move her head and leaned it against my chest and the sweet smell of Jasmine and lilacs flooded my nose. She smelled as beautiful as she was. I walked over to the couch that was placed right in between two bookshelves against the wall and lay her down making sure her head pressed against the pillow. The house placed a blanket in my arms and in no hesitation, I placed the blanket on her. She snuggled against the softness of the blanket and let out a content sigh.

I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “Sleep well, Sweetheart.” And with that I left the library and went to my room.

Reader’s POV

The next morning, I woke up and found myself on the couch in the library, and there was a blanket over me. I remember falling asleep on the chair, but don’t remember moving. The scent of leather and Sandalwood lingered in the room and was a comforting embrace. Feyre opened the door her eyes frantic, “There you are! I was so worried!” She donned a peach dress that fitted her figure with sheer sleeves that had rhinestones on it. Her hair was pinned back to the side, and she looked beautiful even though the dress looked like it was wearing her.

I stretched and smiled at her, “Sorry, Fey, I fell asleep in here. I like it in here.”  I sat up and put the blanket to the side, “I’m hungry.”

Feyre nodded, “Well go change and we will go get breakfast.” I nodded and went to the bedroom to change into a purple top with sheer puffy sleeves that showed a little more cleavage with matching pants and put my hair in a simple braid and made my way to breakfast.

At breakfast Rhys broke the news to my sister that we would be learning to read, write and shield against Daemati fae, which he explained to me is how he was able to speak to me in my mind. That went as well as I anticipated but with some coercing, she joined me in the office to get our first lesson. “I don’t understand why you care about our education.” Feyre grumbled.

“Oh, are you saying having this ability wouldn’t have been useful under the mountain?” I stilled at his question and Feyre went pale and silent. “We don’t know what the future holds, its in my best interest to have you two, well versed and ready for anything.” 

He explained to us how to put up mental shields that we worked on, and we spent an hour writing the ridiculous phrases that made Feyre roll her eyes and mutter, “Insufferable,” causing me to chuckle. After an hour of Rhys scolding us for keeping our shields up and checking our work, he released us for the day. Feyre and I went back to the room and fell into a comfortable silence and that evening I went back to the library and grabbed a book to practice my reading.

The rest of the week was spent that way shielding, reading and writing and towards the end, Feyre was eating more and smiling more to Rhysand which I swore the High Lord soaked in her smiles like sun rays. When we returned to the Spring Court, we both spent some time together reading and despite my utter disgust I would join for meals to appease Tamlin and keep his temper at bay.

Months went by and fell into the same rhythm. Rhys threw in a few fighting lessons, but we started with balance and stretching. He said he would only show me the basics but when his General came home that I would start training with him for more intricate training. I wanted to ask Rhys what Cassian’s role was in his court or just even to learn more about him, but I refrained, I didn’t want to pry, and he never wanted to divulge in the members of his court.

I could tell after Rhysand dropped us off that both Feyre and I were feeling better and stronger as Feyre was begging Tamlin to go out and hunt and help the people in town and met with stonewall refusal. So, she would dive into reading with me, but her face was fuller, and light shone back into her eyes, the color in her hair was vibrant again. Turns out that verbal sparring with Rhys was doing something for her.

Dinner that night after Tamlin told Feyre he didn’t want her hunting, Tamlin was utterly sweet, to her and to me. I welcomed the change even if Ianthe had graced us with her presence and her saccharine grin making my skin crawl. It felt as though things were finally falling into place. I drank the wine that Ianthe had poured for me and when I went to my room, sleep overpowered me and I moved to my bed my head landing on the pillow as I slipped into unconsciousness not even realizing that I had left my door wide open.

I awoke with a start as the warm breeze caressed my bare skin, I sat upright my surroundings spinning but trees surrounded me, I was in the forest. Someone had put a sheer nightgown on me my hands were bound behind my back and female laughter caused my blood to chill. I turned my head to find Ianthe there. “Ianthe, help me please.”

She approached me and gone was any warmth in her features and cold viper took her place as she crouched to meet my eyes, “I’m under Tamlin’s orders. To take you far away from the manor”

I gritted my teeth, “Bullshit, he wouldn’t hurt my sister that way!” I sent panic down the bond in hopes that Rhys would be able to answer my call.

Ianthe stroked a finger down my cheeks moving to my neck and down to my clavicle, “Unless we tell her you ran away.”

Fear ran down my spine I masked it with indifference, “You think she would believe that I would abandon her like that.”

Ianthe traced her finger right above the swell of my breast and I jerked away from her, “Well we could also say that you were influenced by the Naga lured out by a lesser fae and with your fragile human body you couldn’t resist.” I bit my lip, and she smirked knowing she would believe that as she held a dagger and sliced quickly above my clavicle, and I hissed, refusing to scream. Though she sliced off one of the straps to my night gown. She placed a kiss to my cheek before she murmured, “I’d run if I were you. Won’t be long before the monsters that live in these woods smell your blood and come looking for you.” And with that she vanished.

I gritted through my teeth as I rose to my knees, ignoring the pain of twigs and rocks pressing into my knees as I rose to my bare feet and began to run. I wasn’t sure which way I was running and there was minimal moon light to help but I just kept running and sending my fear down the bond. Even opening my mind:

Rhys, help. Please help me!

There was no response, but I kept pushing, kept sending waves of fear down our tattoo and shouting my thoughts in hopes he would hear. It felt like hours I was in there before I tripped over a stump I didn’t see and fell hard on my back. My vision blurred as my head collided with something hard, but the silence was palpable in the forest. My breathing was labored, and I could feel the warmth trickle of blood running down my face. I knew my feet were cut up, but I still rose to my knees and willed myself to try and stand. Dizziness dropped me back to my knees and a sob raked out of me. “Rhysand, please.” I whispered.

A low chuckle echoed behind me, and I began to tremble. “What a delicious treat we have brother, a human girl” The sound of slithering made me want to vomit but I forced the bile down and kept my head down. The slithering halted and the images of the Naga Feyre had painted flooded my memory the serpent-like creatures with talons and vile creatures.

Another low sinister voice followed, “What a pretty little thing and tied up just like a present.”  A sharp finger moved my hair away to look at my bleeding wound. I looked up and met yellow eyes and a pink serpent tongue sticking out. The hand that moved my hair gripped the back of my neck and I whimpered as the Naga licked the trail of blood from my forehead. The free hand groping my exposed breast, the beast hummed in approval, “She is delicious.”  The Naga gripped my hair and I yelped in pain as he approached, bringing his mouth closer to mine but keeping my head in place so I couldn’t move.

Rhys, I think I’m going to die. If I do, it was an honor being your friend.

I could have sobbed when Rhys’ voice came into my head.

No one will be dying tonight.

There was a slash of metal and the howl of the Naga who was gripping me as he was yanked away a flash of blue propelling it back. The sound of wings booming above and a thud on the ground. I couldn’t see my savior’s face only that blue gems blazed in the night as he approached the creature that put its hands on me with a blade in his hand.

The creature’s brother tried to slither its tail around my waist only to be met with steel cutting in clean off. A blast of red power forced the beast back against the tree. The Naga was about to approach again ready for a fight when a dagger flew and landed right in between its eyes, and it slumped back against the trees. The clouds parted and moonlight was able to help me see but a hand grabbed my shoulder and a jerked out of the grip turning slightly to meet familiar hazel eyes. His eyes held fear and he held his hands out palms open, “Y/N, do you remember me?” He whispered.

I nodded, “Cassian,” I whispered my voice hoarse and dry.

Cassian gave me a warm smile, “Good, Can I untie you?” I nodded again and he took another dagger and made his way behind me to cut my ties as the other winged male approached. My hands were free, and Cass took my hands in his and began to massage my wrists to bring the circulation back into my hands. “Is this, okay?” he asked, ignoring his friend who had just approached. I nodded again words not forming.

The other male knelt and gave me a small smile, his eyes a similar hazel to Cassian’s but just like Rhys and Cassian he was utterly beautiful, “I have heard a lot about you, Archeron.” His voice was pure honey, “I’m Azriel.”

I give him a small wave. Cassian released my hand and slid off his jacket sliding it over my shoulders to cover me. I slide my arms into the sleeves. “We have to get going before more come.” Cassian whispered to me, “Will you let me carry you?”

I nod but force myself to say, “Don’t bring me back to the Spring Court.” I whisper as my eyes met his and pain flashes in those eyes. “Please.”

“You are not going back there, Sweetheart. We’re taking you home.” Cassian scoops me up and holds me close to his chest, where the scent of sandalwood and leather fills my nose and my eyes widened, was he there that day in the library? Did he move me over to the couch? My thoughts whirled but the dizziness caused me to lay my head on his chest. “You alright?” He murmured the words thrumming from his chest causing warmth to spread through my body.

“I hit my head, and a little dizzy but I’ll be alright.” Azriel rose nodding to his friend and gripped Cassian’s arm as darkness consumed us until we emerged into a house I had never seen before.

Rhys was in the hall his eyes frantic, “Mother above, Is she alright? Where's Feyre?”

Tears welled up at my conversation with Ianthe bubbled to the surface of never seeing Feyre again, “I'm alright” I croaked, “They’re going to make her think I’m dead.” I whisper and tear slips from my face. Cassian’s grip tightens on me his thumb rubbing circles on my back, and I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face letting his scent soothe me.

"Who is?" Cassian asked.

"Tamlin and Ianthe." I whimper as pain erupts from my head. I pressed on, "They are going to tell her I abandoned her."

Rhys sounded as though he was clenching his teeth, “Cassian go take her to one of the rooms upstairs and have Madja come take a look at her.” I could hear his footsteps and a hand was on my arm giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’ll check on her in the morning.”

You didn't abandon her and when she sees you again she will know that Rhys' words in my mind brought me comfort as I heard his steps walk away with what I assume was Azriel's not far behind.

With that Cassian took me up the stairs and into the room I took a look around there were two twin sized beds and he laid me down on the one farthest from the window, He looked at the wound on my head, "I'm going to go get our healer, I'll be right back." He got up and I on instinct grabbed for his hand, hissing at my fast movement.

"Stay. Please don't leave me." I whispered.

He bit his lip and he nodded he looked off into the distance for a long moment and then he grabbed the chair from the small desk and brought it by my bedside. "Rhys, is calling for our healer." He sat letting his wings dip slightly as he grips my hand again and rubs the top of my hand. The soothing motion lulling me into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 4

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @Tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieoo

[yiiyiiwrites]

🍁 | Autumn Equinox | Azriel

Summary: you’ve been mated to Azriel for over a year now, but it’s your first time celebrating the autumn equinox outside your home court. Azriel tries his best to make it a good one 2075words

Azriel x Autumn court reader

Also Have one for [Cassian] & [Eris] & Lucien coming soon

[Acotar masterlist]

The autumn equinox used to be your favourite celebration, now it just reminded you of everything you’d lost. A bitter sweet holiday you wasn't sure if you could do each year.

You may have gained your fated lover, your other half but you’d given up your home and family.

There wasn’t any other way, you knew that. The moment you’d stumbled upon the shadow singer in the golden forests of autumn was the final fraying thread snapping.

If you didn’t hurt Azriel by your own hands, Beron would make an example of you and use you in what ever way to break the bond. To snuff out any flickering ember that remained for your mate.

So you were as sly as a fox, crawling under the overgrown hedges of molten brown thorns keeping you in the court.

Your mother understood, she packed your things as sobs shook her whole body. Even now as you closed your eyes, you could smell the tendrils of her smokey caramelised scent and the undertones of cinnamon washing over you as if she were embracing you for the last time again.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, dark wisp falling away from caressing your cheek. For a moment you imagined the touch of your mother's hand warming your cheek.

Azriel sighed as you sunk into his embrace, his presence more frequent the days leading to the equinox. You’d refused to hold him the first few days after you caught the mark on the calendar, afraid your touch would burn him.

Velaris offered a similar bout of weather that reminded you of home. The nights growing longer, colder and you were thankful there was still a little scrap of heritage you could clutch onto.

Your magic however seemed to be like a fizzling firework in the night court. Touch running hot and cold, that you didn’t stand close to your mate for months as you got used to the warmer seasons.

The restraint you’d built since your arrival dulled your flames. You no longer needed to apologise for scorching holes in Azriel’s sleeve or slapping the fiery embers from the fabric a bit too harshly as you tried to it stop marring his skin.

In the beginning he’d gifted you a pair of leather gloves, but that increased the distance between you both. You wondered why the gods had strung you two together in the beginning, everything you were, summoned painful memories for Azriel. The simple action of holding his hand reminded you why, why you needed to cage the flame to offer him a semblance of the same affection he gave to you.

"I have something for you," he said, nose tracing your jaw and pulling you out of your thoughts.

The cold crept in as he slipped away, the winter breeze pushing the stray strands of hair out out of your face. You breathed in, another wave of smokey scents and sweet aromas tipped with oak prickling the warmth beneath your fingertips. Turning around to meet your mate, you took a step back.

In his gloved hands laid a whicker hamper, tartan blanket sticking out of the box. You gasped, adding another step back. No wonder you could smell their scents. "You saw my mother?" Your voice trembled, hands diving into your coat pocket, fists clenching as you tried to expel the overpowering scents that even mingled with his shadows.

He nodded, ever the cool and controlled mate, never raising his voice or moving too fast as if he'd spook a fox in Autumn. "Yes, it's customary to exchange gifts," Azriel said, pulling the blanket out of the hamper and rolling it out on the ground, he stilled. "Isn't it?" His hazel eyes snapped up to yours, shadows freezing under the curve of his wings.

You couldn't fight the smile, nodding down at him kneeling beside the hamper. He patted the space opposite him and that damned tether tugged you closer. "Yes Az, exchanging gifts are customary but I did not get my family any." You didn't see the point, there was no way you'd be able to step in Autumn without dire consequences.

"That's fine, I did." He shrugged, laying a pumpkin pie in front of you, steam curling off the brown pastry.

A tradition in your family to gift handmade presents to each other during the autumn equinox. Your mothers famous, pumpkin pie, honey tea and spiced apples.

"You got gifts for my family?" You asked, scooting closer to Azriel who didn't offer you a glance, his attention on the contents in the hamper. "What did you get my father?" You leant forwards dipping your head and tried catching his gaze. "My father hates you and you gave him gift?"

"I got him a hunting knife." He said it like it was the most logical thing, as if your father would not be thinking of gutting him with it. His shadows seemed to follow your line of thought, a dark wisp pushing you back to sit.

"Is that why you met with my mother instead?" You laughed, even though you wanted to cry at the thought of your mate stepping into autumn for a spec of your happiness and his own demise.

Azriel finally let his gaze fall on you, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. Always searching you before he decided what words to choose. "You're mother actually requested for me." His ears tinged a darker shade, hand scratching the back of his neck.

It was odd to think of your mother with him, you knew she'd be gentle and careful in her approach. Something you thought Azriel didn't receive much of in way of interaction. You also wondered what she thought of your mate, hoping she didn't worry and didn't judge alone from his stony features.

The grey cable knit sweater (the one you'd knit him last year) hugged his muscular arms, bicep flexing at his movement that you forget for a second what he said. A wave of your mother's scent hit you like a whip and brought you back.

"How the Gods does my mother manage to request your presence?"

"Well, she knows a lady in winter, that knows a lady in day and knows..." he trailed off the sentence, stumbling over his words trying to grasp the order of whatever your mother had told him. Trust your mother to use her network of gossips to send word to Velaris in order to find your mate.

"And how many ladies do you know?"

"Many," he smirked leaning in to you, "the only lady that matters is you though." His lips pressed against yours, warmth spreading through your chest as his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer.

You smirked, storing away the memory so that you could show Feyre later and make your mate sweat about his duties to a high lady that didn't matter.

"Smooth, I bet my mother saw right through you." You said, tracing your swollen lips. You leant across Azriel's lap and plucked a ruby red apple from the hamper, teeth sinking into the shiny skin.

"Your mother probably thinks we're an equal match. How many guards did you court till you made it to me?" His lip twitched, fingers pinching your thigh for another swift attack. You swatted him way, squealing as his shadows skimmed the small slip of skin where your top had rode up over your hip.

It were true, you'd worked your way through nearly every division of the autumn army in the hopes of finding someone who wasn't just focused on following the high lords every word. What else were you supposed to do for five hundred years?

"I'd be quiet if I were you, recon I could get a rank higher than you back in autumn.” You swatted the curling wisps out of your face, sending them hissing back to their master.

"I doubt your mother would approve."

You didn’t argue with him on that, knowing that your mother was never fond of any suitor you’d brought home before.

“I take it these are from them?” You asked, lifting a small wooden box out of the hamper. A yellowing envelope stuck to the lid and sealed with red wax. You ripped the letter and scanned over your mother’s cursive writing.

The usual sentimental words she’d say to you around the table whilst you thanked the gods of harvest for giving you all good things and planting new seeds of regrowth and learning. At the very bottom below her signature however was a blurred splotchy mess, as if she’d written it last minute and folded the paper.

I hope this equinox brings you many blessings and offers you new fields to plant your own seeds. May you nurture the connection between you and your fated. My daughter you’ve been blessed, as have I now that I know you will be loved and safe.

Azriel peered over your shoulder, “I think she likes me,” he said, cutting a second piece of pumpkin pie and shoving it in his mouth.

“Just thank the stars you didn’t meet my father.” Now that you were banished from autumn, you doubted that you’d see him again. Too proud of his home to step out of tradition.

He hummed in agreement, pouring a cup of honey tea and setting it down in front of you. The view from the house of wind's balcony was your favourite, always bringing a smile to your face and reminding you that you could find beauty in any court. You did miss Autumn, but Velaris had grown on you, the constant stars blinking in the inky sky each night.

A small fire flickered in a homemade pit, copper bowl keeping it contained. Peeling the overlapping cloth, you traced the knitted mittens. Charcoal grey yarn that looked like liquid mercury woven together with softer orange, the two colours a symbol of your union with Azriel. Picking them up from the box, you slipped them into your pocket, freezing as something dropped out of one the mittens. A dark wisp dove out from its owner and caught the small object.

The shadows held it up and twisted it in front you, a fox figurine carved from wood and painted orange and beige. Tiny brushstrokes imitating fur, looking oddly like the fox you had as a child. A gift from your younger sister, you'd left your other figurines back in Autumn and hated yourself for it ever since. Least you had one now.

Azriel was silent as ever, watching you intently.

"My mother didn't give you anything? I mean I know I am gift enough Az," you said, laughing as he bumped his shoulder to yours.

His head dipped, Shadows concealing his face. "She did, wouldn't let me leave till I finished a pumpkin pie she made. Your sister made me a little fox of my own." Thats when you noticed the tiny wood carved fox pendent on a thin string around his neck, dark ink peeking out underneath it.

"Oh god's Az, don't let your enemies hear you say that. If that's all it takes." And by the looks of it, he'd enjoyed it so much, he was half way through the pumpkin pie from the hamper.

Cool metal met your fingertips as you lifted the cloth again, your reflection staring back at you in the silver blade. "I take it this gift is for both of us," you joked, Azriel picked it up and turned the hilt in his hand. A red stone embedded in the pommel, a scripture you couldn't quite make out on the hilt.

"Hunting knife, a few centuries old," he said glancing at your furrowed brows. "Look the hilts worn, the leather binding it, is coming away. Blade needs sharpening too, must have been in your family for a long time." He passed the knife back, blade pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

You wrapped it back in the cloth, sandwiching it between the thick layers. "No idea why he'd give me that old thing," you mumbled, slamming the box shut. You were never one to use a knife, more inclined to using your magic and merging it with autumn's fighting techniques.

"No idea, just don't gut me with it in my sleep."

"Never," you gasped. "Just remember good behaviour or its a blunt blade my dear."

Since its nearly autumn equinox I wanted to do some prompts for it :) there's other characters to come - Yiiyii

[readychilledwine]

Drumming Song

Summary - 49 long years without your mate finally comes to an end after Amarantha grants him one night of freedom

Warnings- smut, rough oral (mrecving), shadow play, slight angst, impact play, power play, mention of sex magic, occational capitalized word where there shouldn't be (I think I caught them all)

A/N - Listen... there's potential for this to have a second part under the mountain where reader is Rhysand's whore

“Behave,” Tamlin gripped your chin gently. “Pick wisely and preferably from the guard, y/n.”

Lucien snorted behind you, having been the male you had picked the last four Calanmai. You two figured the magic would lead you to him again. A strong, high born male and heir was the obvious choice for the night.

Tamlin looked at Lucien, “Stay near her.” The red-headed male nodded. Gently reaching for your hand to accompany you to the Fires as Tamlin began the Rite.

“What are the odds dearest daring Feyre stays in her room?” You linked your arm to Lucien, leaning into him and staring up at his beautiful face hidden by that fox mask.

“For her sake, she better,” he sighed heavily. “I'd really prefer not to watch your brother and my closest friend fuck my mate.” The stark reminder had your toes curling, thinking of your own mate trapped under that damned Mountain. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Lucien looked to the sky, whispering a soft prayer to the Cauldron. “I'll be back.” He motioned with his head towards where Feyre stood with a male.

You shook your head, laughing as Lucien went to her, and the male walked away as he approached. You continued your pathway to the forest, enjoying the feeling of grass on your bare feet.

An almost feline like presence had you pausing as a familiar feeling began to set into your stomach. Calloused hands ran up your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then moved your hair to the side, “Hello, y/n Darling,” the purr had shivers running your spine as a combination of shocked chill and the heat of the magic began to truly set in.

His scent hit you then causing that faint drumming sound to increase rapidly. Citrus and sea salt mixed with what you knew was the lingering scent of Amarantha.

“What are you doing here, Rhysand?”

You felt him smile into your neck, “Rhysand? Darling, I thought we were way past that?”

It took every fiber in your being, every single ounce of strength you had, but you managed to pull away from him, walking away as you shook him off despite the rhythmic pounding indicating you had Found your partner for the night.

With every footstep away, he took two near, and the drumming grew louder. “If you need to know, I was allowed off my leash tonight to check in.”

You scoffed slightly, picking up pace to head toward your greenhouse, your safe haven. “You mean to drag whomever the poor female Tamlin picks for the night to the false queen to be tortured and murdered?” It was no secret that once every 5 years Amarantha had sent one of the crueler high lord or an Autor to Spring for the poor maiden picked from Calanmai.

Rhys was smirking behind you, knowing you were engaging in a game of chase with him, smiling to himself and knowing he would win. “I do have that unfortunate privilege, yes.” He paused, allowing you to get several paces ahead of him.

Thick silence fell between you two. The air was heavy with magic, with arousal, with the sound of moans and cries while fire cracked distantly in the background.

You had to get away from him before you gave in, caving to every sick whim and desire he had. You took one deep breath, memorizing His scent one more time, and then ran.

Rhys laughed distantly in the background, giving chase to you and easily following every calculated twist and turn.

He caught you exactly where he knew he would, shutting the door to the completely glass greenhouse behind him and locking it.

You felt him grab your wrist, spinning you and walking you to one of the empty walls. His forehead found yours. Those star flecked eyes almost blown out with lust but still somehow sparkling.

The cold glass of the greenhouse met your back as Rhysand held your wrists above your head. "Why are you running from me, little spider lily? As much as I enjoy a game of cat and mouse, we both know my time here is limited."

The heat from Calanmai's magic had begun to spread over your skin, causing the need to be breed, to find some relief to surface. "Tamlin will kill you if he finds you here."

Rhys smirked, his face getting closer to yours, "Your brother was a little preoccupied with a pretty little dark-haired thing in the cave," Soft lips trailed your neck. "And now there's no one else here to save you from me."

He had leaned in so close each syllable was a soft brush of his lips on yours. “Amarantha-” you started softly.

“Will think I fucked you to irritate Tamlin. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Your eyes fluttered shut, relaxing as cool tendrils of darkness began to explore the high slits of your skirt.

Rhys began placing soft kisses along your jawline, hands moving down from your wrists to memorize each inch of skin. One hand stopped on your neck, holding there and squeezing gently. “You should be allowed to wear clothing like this more often. Makes you look like an actual female. Not some cupcake Tamlin had hand decorated.”

You blinked at the lack of clothing you were in. A dress that dipped low in the front with a non-existent back, two large slits that ran both legs up to your hipbones. The fabric was so light that a soft breeze would expose you easily.

“I enjoy my cupcake skirts sometimes. Easy to hide things in,” your mind immediately went to before the Bond between you two snapping, when Lucien had first come to Spring and used sex As a coping mechanism. He and Tamlin had an argument, and he had hidden the table and then under your many layered skirts and ate you out with Tamlin sitting right there.

Rhysand's eyes grew dark, his hand squeezing your throat harder. “You will never think of another male between those pretty thighs once I'm done with you.”

Rhysand brought your lips to him harshly this time. The kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, leaving you breathless as he began ripping that now offensive dress off.

Without warning, Rhysand turned you, locking your hands behind your back with one hand and forcing your breasts and cheek against the cold glass.

You jumped, gasping loudly as a smack came against your ass. Then another and another leaving you wiggling and moaning. Rhys landed another hard smack, massaging the tender sore skin once he was done and just watched you drip.

You were soaked, and he only made it worse as he ripped your hair back, forcing your back to arch more. “Try to remember I love you, and this, instead of whatever happens when you are dragged under than damn mountain,” it was a soft plea followed by a kiss placed on your temple.

“Always,” you whispered.

“Get on your knees for me,” you could hear him untying his pants, the desperation in his tone. You turned, following his order and trailing your hands down his thighs.

Rhys was quick to collect your wrists, slamming them on the wall behind you and above your head. The position left you completely defenseless as his free hand positioned his cock in front of your lips. “Open.” An easy order to follow again, your eyes meeting his as he pushed in. You hummed at the weight of him on your tongue, the saltiness of his skin. You tried to bob your head, only to be forced to stay in place.

Rhysand just smirked before pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

And now it was clear. He had no intentions of allowing you an ounce of control.

This was his therapy.

His needed release from the horrors he was suffering silently to earn her favor. To keep his court safe. To keep you safe.

Rhys was gentle at first, allowing you to keep up and breathe, tongue running the length of the vein and swirling the head when the opportunity came. That gentleness went out the window once Rhys saw an attor lurking the grounds, and he growled. “I love you,” he whispered one last time. You nodded, swallowing around him, and did the best you could to relax.

He began fucking your throat like you were no more than a doll to him, a lifeless object He could use and abuse. He smiled and moaned with each gag, cock feeling heavier on your tongue and twitching as more spit began to gather at the corners of your mouth. Mascara had begun to run down your face with your tears from the burn and lack of oxygen. "What a pretty mess," he moaned out.

Rhys threw his head back, groaning your name like a prayer as he continued using and abusing you.

You felt something cold running around your thighs and then something running the length of your core. You knew if you stood, there would be a damp spot on the floor. You were twitching and clenching around nothing, eyes locked on the absolute bliss etched into Rhysand's face each time you hallowed your cheeks or swallowed.

You moaned around him as one of those tendrils gently began to play with your clit, offering some relief as he held you with his cock all the way inside of your throat.

“Keep fucking looking at me,” his hand moved from your hair to your throat. Feeling his cock settled in there, feeling you swallowing and attempting to breath around him. “My perfect good girl,” he was breathless himself, pulling back out before going back to his ruthless onslaught of thrusts mixed with prolonged deep throating.

Between his pleasure steady humming down the bond, the snake like darkness dancing around your entrance and clit, and the visual display of Rhysand with his brows knit in pleasure and mouth opened softly, you felt that coil tightening inside of you more and more. “Almost fucking there, y/n,” he panted, your name rolling off his tongue like a deep purr. “Fuck!”

He came from you, whining as that coil began to teeter on a knife edge. Rhys spilled down your throat, “Don't fucking swallow yet. Don't you fucking dare.” He pulled out slightly, working his length with just the tip in your mouth to ensure every drop of him sat waiting.

He pulled out, breathing heavily, “Open your mouth.” Your obedience had his cock twitching, his mind wishing he had time to truly take you, to taste you. He smiled at the sight of his seed lingering in your mouth before leaning down and spitting on your tongue. He forced your jaw shut, kneeling down before you, a hand taking place between your thighs and two fingers entering you.

“Swallow,” he commanded as he began fucking you with his fingers. Scissoring them pressing them, pushing deeper and deeper until he found the spot that had your head thrown back, whining out his name as electricity and warmth shot through your body.

You heard him growl as a thumb found your bundle of nerves, moving in time with his thumb. Your hips began to unknowingly move, riding those two fingers inside of you and chasing your pleasure. “Rhys! Fuck! Please.” You began to beg, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a mantra one would wake themselves to in the morning.

You couldn't respond, mouth set in a small o, whimpers and moans becoming all you knew as he played your body like his own personal harp. “Cum,” you screamed then, flowers in the greenhouse going from small buds to full blooms as you reached and fell over your peak.

You felt him leaning into your ear. “When I buy you under the mountain, I'm going to fuck you infront of every single fae there. Marking you as mine over and over.” He pulled his fingers out, landing a quick slap to your sensitive pussy before pushing his fingers back in. “You won't even remember your name when I'm done with you down there.”

He worked your core through it, praising you with soft kisses as he kept an eye on Amarantha's creature that had caught his scent. He pulled his fingers from you, holding them to your mouth and watching from his lashes as you eagerly cleaned them.

He released your wrists, pulling his fingers from your mouth, and held eye contact with you. “I have to go,” his voice broke as he said the 4 words you'd been dreading. “I love you. I know I've told you several times tonight, but I love you y/n Darling.”

You nodded, trying to blink the tears away, “I love you too.”

He nodded, kissing you deeply before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “I'll see you soon.”

It was a statement that filled you both with dread and a sick sense of joy. Dread for being trapped there, one more tool to use for Tamlin's torment. Joy at the idea of being with Rhys.

He sighed, leaving the greenhouse as you noticed the creature approaching and leaving with it after motioned towards the cave you knew Tamlin's maiden would likely be resting in.

You felt one last tug on the bond. One small ounce of sorrow of longing.

Then it fell silent and cold.

Just like it had been for 49 long years.

💜 General taglist 💜 - Remember to shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be on my general taglist or a tag list for a specific character

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

[bubybubsters]

Falling For You (eris x you)

Eris Week 2024- day one: bonds

a/n: hey yall welcome to eris week! my personal fav week. thank you @erisweekofficial for hosting this!

eris week masterlist

masterlist

You hum a soft tune as you and Lucien head towards the busy town market. The two of you were roommates and had run out of... well basically everything needed to live. Neither of you had gone shopping in 4 weeks all because of a stupid fight in which you both believed you were in the right. You'd only made up because you'd both agreed food and wine were necessary to enjoy a good life.

As you approached the first stall selling fresh fruit, someone running at full speed smacked straight into your side. This, of course caused you to fall and collide into Lucien who, despite his many muscles, also fell and collided into the fae near him.

A whole chain reaction of people tripping and stumbling occurred and half of the market turned into disarray. All because of a stupid running fae that-

You froze. The person that had caused this was... downright beautiful. His eyes were a lovely shade of amber and his hair a fiery red. There was a splatter of freckles over his nose and cheeks that left you reeling.

You felt Lucien stiffen on the ground under you and you suddenly realized you were lying on top of him. You cringe and make a move to get up when a hand extends into your vision. "Let me," the strangers smooth, silky voice cuts through the air.

You reject his hand, getting up on your own. Lucien stands up so fast, you swear he gets whiplash. He glares at the male.

"Eris. What brings you here?"

"Oh Lucienn, it's so nice to see you again, little brother, just the person I was searching for actually."

You blink, Eris? As in Eris Vanserra? Like the recently appointed High Lord, Eris Vanserra? You panic, having just rejected your high lord's hand offer, you quickly move to sink into a bow when your best friend's hand lands on your shoulder.

"Don't. He's not worth your loyalty." You've never heard your friend's voice this cold.

"Ouch, that hurts lil bro," Eris mock pouts, putting a hand on his perfectly sculpted chest.

"Lucie?" You look up at the scar on Lucien's face, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. He's looking at Eris, mouth set in a line, heat radiating.

"Who's this lovely lady?" Eris drawls, "Where have you been hiding her all this time?"

"She is off limits." Lucien glowers.

You frown, glancing at your friend before going to address Eris. But the moment you meet his eyes your world tilts, a sudden bright light making you gasp. A loud, clear snap cutting through the world as you know it.

Eris is your mate.

Eris is your mate.

Eris is your mate.

"Y/n! Are you alright?" Lucien's concerned face slides into your vision and you realize you've fallen so you're leaning against him. The rest of the crowded market has went back to their previous business. Everything is back to normal. Except....

"Get your hands off my mate." Eris's low growl reverberates through the space, causing many people to turn and frown at him before realizing he's the High Lord and turning back as if nothing happened.

Lucien pale ten shades. "What did you say?"

"She's my mate."

You grunt, body instinctively leaping forward upon hearing Eris's voice. Cursing the Cauldron and the Mother and every old god you can think of you clutch your chest with one hand and Luciens sturdy bicep with another.

You glance up at Eris only to see him watching your hand grip Lucien's arm. You quickly let go, stepping in front of Lucien.

"Do not hurt him."

Eris gawks at you, offended. "You find out I'm your mate and the first thing you ask is for me not to hurt my own brother?"

You glare. "There is no way my kind, caring friend is your egotistic asses brother."

Eris's mouth opens in pure shock.

A slightly choked laugh comes from behind you, "You would not have called me kind and caring twenty minutes ago when you were throwing a pillow at my face telling me to do the shopping because I'm a 'egotistical fae brute.'"

You groan and take a playful swing at Lucien. "Ok fine, maybe you are brothers. But... Luc, what do I do about the mating bond?"

Lucien shrugs, "It's your choice."

Eris smirks at you. "That, my brother is right about. I won't force you into anything... unless you want to be forced of course."

You raise your brows at him and he puts his hands up as if to say, don't kill me, I'm just stating facts.

You sigh, shaking your head, barely suppressing a smile.

A sudden wave of emotion comes down the new bond in your chest. Joy, relief, fear and a pinch of desperation.

You blink at the male in front of you, dressed head to toe in fancy clothes, eyes sparkling, hair flaming and face smiling.

You think you can make this work. Maybe you were wrong to curse the cauldron earlier. Maybe it was right. Because this male in front of you sure does seem just right.

"Ugh stop..." Lucien's voice cuts through your thoughts. "You two are already so lovey dovey I can see it in your eyes. It's gonna make me hurl."

You and Eris both shoot him an identical glower.

thank you @anitalenia for dividers

taglist: @mp-littlebit @theduskyprincess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @profound-imagination @stargirl1714 @hieragalbatorixdottir

comment to be added to the taglist

[jsmelodies]

I'd Go Back to the Winter

Five years ago, Elain Archeron loved Lucien Vanserra. Supposedly. She can’t remember a single second of it. And the only way to bring it back is to relive it all.

@laxibbeb It's me, your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange!

It has been so, so lovely getting to know you over the past couple of months. I'll admit that I was nervous about trying my hand at Elucien, but I've enjoyed our talks so much and getting to be creative with this!

I really stepped out of my comfort zone with this one. I do usually stay in canon verse, but not typically in this way. I played around with it a lot here - and I had so much fun doing it!

You said you liked fanfics that were a little Out There, so I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it💕

Read here on ao3

Chapter 1

The figure slid into Lucien’s booth just as he finished the last dregs of ale. The long, dark cloak billowed with the movement of footsteps across the creaking floorboards.

The tavern air was humid and sticky, and the fabric of his jacket clung to his chest with sweat. But it was better than the air outside, with a wind so cold it might freeze off the extremities on his face. 

And although Lucien had never had a problem staying warm, this was no night for anyone to be outside.

The tavern was one of Velaris’ worst. Perhaps one that his mate’s sister might have frequented, back when she did such things. Maybe that was why she picked it, taking the first seedy tavern that popped into her head.

It didn’t matter to him.

Truth be told, this was one of the last places he wanted to be. Being in this damned city was bad enough, without the invitation that he couldn’t refuse. 

Meet me. Written in that perfect, delicate handwriting that was the result of years of forced practice, of tutoring until she looped her letters and dotted her i’s just so. A trained courtier she could certainly be, if she ever wished it. With her pleasant smiles that could bring a man to his knees, she was suited for it. 

She lit up a room, bringing it to life. In all ways that mattered.

Her bedroom in the human lands had been anything but dull. Much to her sister’s dismay, she had ivy growing on the walls, even in the wintertime, filling the room with a lush green that drew his eyes from the drab landscape of the human realm. There were potted plants, flowers that reached for the scarce sunlight that set way too quickly. Never enough time, never enough light.

But under her thumb, they thrived. They were vibrant, an explosion of color as they sat on her windowsill. 

Persevering. Enduring. Making the most out of what was sparsely given.

Elain Archeron was meant to be in the sunlight. She was light. And even in the mortal lands, it had been clear as day.

The tavern surrounded her in shadow. The cloak she wore covered everything, concealing her identity from all who would dare to look. So utterly dramatic, his mate.

“Elain. Lovely to see you.”

She forced a smile that had become common between them as of late. “Lucien.”

Her hands grabbed the sides of the hood to bring it down around her neck. The tips of her ears poked out from her hair, golden and set in near perfect curls on her back. When she was human, the pattern had been different—still beautiful, but in soft waves that he could run his fingers through.

Now, though, he was almost scared to touch, in fear of ruining their perfection. If she even let him get that far.

She’d been pretty before the war, devastatingly so. Even then, he’d known that he wasn’t enough for her. Elain Archeron was a woman that kings went to war over, and somehow, she’d fallen into his arms instead: a landless emissary with next to nothing to offer. 

But her, as high fae? He had to admit that she’d always been meant to be this way. Even if she disagreed, and hated him for thinking so. He hated himself for thinking it, too.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene around her. The drunk males leered at them from the bartop, and her nose scrunched at the scent that made its way into her nose. She was out of place here, with the pristine dress that he was sure she wore under her cloak, and the clink of gold that he could hear on her wrists. 

“This seems like the last place a lady such as yourself would want to meet,” he said. “I do admit, I am quite surprised you suggested it.”

“No one will bother us here,” she explained. 

When the barkeep looked their way, Lucien raised his hand in silent request for his glass to be refilled. Elain, however, shook her head when the male’s attention shifted to her, declining what he offered.

“Ah, yes. You wouldn’t want your family seeing us together, would you? It would send the wrong idea.”

She gave him a cruel smile. Well, as cruel as someone like Elain could manage. “Exactly.”

He leaned forward so his weight rested on his elbows, just as his next mug of ale arrived. He let it sit there, his attention focused entirely elsewhere.

The female across from him was much, much more important.

Some things never changed, he supposed. Her tells were the same as they always had been. Still not entirely used to her fae body, he assumed she didn’t know that he could hear it, the slight shake of her leg beneath the table.

Easy enough to hide, from wandering eyes. Indistinguishable enough that she wouldn’t have been chastised for it.

But he could hear it. Faintly. Steadily. The scratch of her heel along the wood of the bar seat, moving up and down as she stared.

Elain Archeron, for all intents and purposes, was nervous.

“I was wondering when you would eventually want to see me again,” he commented, at last picking up the ale that was waiting for him.

That little fire in her eyes sparked. The one that warmed the brown, full of indignation that had once been trained into submission. He’d brought it out of her, stoking it to life once. And he’d loved every second of it.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Because the mating bond pulls at you, doesn’t it? Just like it does for me?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “That’s presumptuous of you.”

But she gave him that look she always did when she knew she was backed into a corner. So he said, “It pulls and pulls, and at some point, you wonder what you’re missing.”

She didn’t deny him. Call him an arrogant prick all she wanted, but he was right, wasn’t he?

“Well, what is it? You want to give it another go? You want to break the bond? What do you want?”

He didn’t see her next words coming. “I want to remember how it happened.”

The question blanketed over the air between them. It thickened the room like smoke, to the point that he could hardly think, or breathe.

She wanted to know. About them, and how he’d broken her heart. Which, given how they ended up in this predicament, he wasn’t overly convinced to do.

“No.”

“No?”

“Last I remembered, you were begging to forget me.” Lucien offered her a smile, but he knew without looking at it that it didn’t meet his eyes. “I’d be a terrible mate if I took that back, wouldn’t I?”

“But I’m asking you to.” She blinked in that way of hers that showed off her long eyelashes, slow and intentional. It was how she got what she wanted, he’d learned. “It would make a wonderful Solstice present.”

“I was thinking of a nice necklace instead. Perhaps to match the earrings you never wear.”

“Charming.” She leaned back in the seat, crossing her arms across her chest. “I do think I would prefer this, though.”

Delightful. This was exactly how he wanted to spend the holidays: dragging a female that hated him across Prythian.

It was what that damned witch had told him to do if he ever wanted to reverse it. He’d tracked her all the way to the edges of Oorid, to the place right before the wetland consumed the ground entirely. The small cottage had been built upon the squishy mud, stabilized by some ancient magic that he felt twisting around his bones.

It went quickly. They had struck a bargain. 

There was no other payment he could offer to a witch that fed on memories, so he’d offered one of his most precious ones, in exchange for the piece of her magic he desired.

The magic that Elain had pleaded for.

And with that magic, came very clear instructions. For Elain to remember any of it, she had to experience it all again: every twist and turn, every moment of joy and heartbreak.

It was painful for him to think about, even five years later. What would it be like for it all to be fresh in her mind again?

“You want to know the story, then?” he asked. “You want to relive it? You want to hate me even more than you already do?” He couldn’t stop his lip from raising in a slight sneer. “Tell me this, Elain. What will you do when you learn? Because I could handle it once, your hatred. But I don’t think I’m inclined to be on the receiving end of that anger again.”

She held his stare for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. I promise I will have a reaction that is perfectly acceptable.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t trust your promises.” The words came out more harshly than he intended. 

She let the words linger.

Her eyes blazed through the space, perfect and defiant and everything he was supposed to love. “I don’t think I hate you anymore.”

The words cut through him, unrelenting as they tore through his heart. Five years ago, he craved to hear those words. 

He knew the truth of it—that there was a fine line between love and hate. And that Elain Archeron loved him such that she’d lost herself in it, that with that final blow, it was so easy for it to switch. To cross that line into loathing, until she couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as him.

“I loved you. Didn’t I?” she asked.

He took a sip, and set his glass down on the table. “You did.”

Her lips set into a line, and she straightened in her seat. “I want to know why.” When he didn’t respond, she said a touch softer, “I’m ready to know why.”

Maybe five years was enough to lessen the hurt of it. It was that thought that sparked hope in his chest, that this might be enough to get them talking again. He wouldn’t go quite so far as to hope for her forgiveness. No, that wouldn’t come for a long while.

Maybe, though, they could take that first step.

He looked over her, his decision made. “Pack a bag, Elain. This is going to take a while.”

***

She met him in the morning. She slipped out of the river house before anyone was awake to notice her leave, placing a single note on the main table excusing her absence for the next week.

A garden on the other side of Velaris, was what she said. With enough detail to bore Feyre and Nesta to death, so that they would leave it alone.

No one would investigate. She’d never given them a reason to.

She’d never been to his apartment, yet she knew where it was. That golden thread in her chest knew where to find him, leading her through the labyrinth of Velaris’ streets until she arrived at a building in the heart of the business district, tall and made from red bricks from the mountain range that surrounded the city.

She didn’t understand it. She didn’t think she ever would. How sometimes it felt like he was wrapped around her heart, coiled around it tightly in a tapestry of golden light.

How she could feel his essence through it—something she felt like she was supposed to miss, without knowing why.

How was she supposed to miss someone she didn’t remember? 

She missed the laugh that she couldn’t place. The steady breathing that she was sure appeared when he was in a deep sleep, passed out beside her, even if it never formed fully in her mind’s depth.

Sometimes when she saw the glint in his hair, or when the sun hit the russet brown of his eye, she felt a pang in her chest. There was the urge to take those long strands through her fingers, and cup his face with her palm.

Sometimes, she swore she felt the faintest of touches. His lips against her own, the ghost of his hand along her waist. Her hip.

She could hear the soft rasp of his whisper, air pressing against the shell of her ear. Could see the slightest dimple from his smile.

Like she had known once what it had meant to be loved; cherished. 

It always slipped from her mind like smoke. And, quite honestly, she didn’t know how she was able to miss it. But she knew that she did, even though she couldn’t name any of it.

Just as dawn broke, she knocked firmly on his apartment door. It was towards the back of the hallway on the second floor, and he answered within mere seconds.

The two of them exchanged brief greetings, awkward and strained as she avoided his eyes. He took her bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder with a graceful movement. She fought to keep her jaw shut, watching the firm lines of muscle flex under his pressed jacket. She’d always found him handsome, even in those early days after the Cauldron, when she hated him and didn’t know why. All she knew then was that she’d begged him to take it away—and he had.

Elain took his hand, and then he brought them through that void in between space. They landed in the middle of the woods, the mortal woods, and the nearly rotted leaves poked out through the snow.

Before them stood a cottage, one that was all too familiar.

For years, she’d lived here. Suffered through harsh winters. Prayed that a single vegetable would grow in that garden, in the hopes that they might be fed.

She hated this cottage.

Memories slammed through her, of trying to stop Feyre and Nesta from ripping each other’s throats out. She’d played mediator for far too long in that house, taking the middle of the bed when her sisters could barely stand to look at each other, even in the height of summer when all she could feel was her sisters’ body heat melting onto her.

The cottage hadn’t fared well, it seemed. The roof had finally caved in, and vines covered the chipped wooden walls.

No one could possibly live here now. She didn’t even know how they lived here all those years ago. Looking at it now, it was pathetic. Certainly not fit for a family of four. If anything, it was fit for a family of squirrels.

“What are we doing here?” she asked.

Sympathy filled his expression, as if he knew the toll that all those years in poverty had taken. Maybe they’d talked about it at great length, before it happened.

Did she share everything with him? All her insecurities, all her doubts? Her dreams of leaving this place behind, and exploring what the world had to offer?

She didn’t know. But Lucien looked at her like he knew her, like his soul was familiar with hers. And she hated it, hated how some part of her reached out and grabbed some invisible hand. How he seemed to reach back, sliding a comforting thumb over the center of her palm.

Even as her hands laid limply at her sides. That phantom touch terrified her, and she knew it was the bond. Knew it was her trying to find comfort, and him trying to provide it.

It was part of why she stayed away from him for so long. The mating bond was a sixth sense, one that she had gone nearly a quarter of a century without. Using it felt unnatural; different from anything she had ever known.

His eyes dropped to her hands for just a moment, before he cleared his throat. “We will not stay here incredibly long, I assure you. As I recall, you were not fond of this place.” He offered her a hesitant smile, and said, “All stories have a beginning, though, and ours starts here.”

***

A snowflake fell to the ground as Lucien approached the cottage in the woods.

He adjusted his sleeves, shivering in the wind that seeped in through his jacket and chilled his Autumn blood. He’d forgotten how cold the mortal lands could be this time of year. With Spring always remaining a constant, lovely temperature, he supposed he’d become a bit spoiled. And he hadn’t done a route through here in ages.

Had Andras been cold when he died? 

He imagined the blood of his friend staining the snow a bright red. He imagined a mortal huntress bringing him down with a single ash arrow, and skinning the pelt right off of him. He shuddered at the thought, and forced it from his mind.

He’d never met these humans, but he hated them already. No matter that they hadn’t been the ones to fire the arrow. It was irrational, he knew. For they were the reason his friend had died. His death had been toasted at their dinner table, while they ate and clinked their glasses.

Andras had to die. He knew that. But Andras had been his friend, and they spent most of their evenings playing cards by the crackling fire.

The human had killed his friend, and Tamlin was already acting like a lovesick fool. Offering a damned estate to mortals who he didn’t owe a single copper to. A house that wasn’t about to collapse in on itself would have worked just fine, if you asked him.

Looking at the cabin in front of him, he noted that it was rather pathetic. A thin stream of smoke escaped from a hole in the roof, and he knew just from looking at it that the fire below couldn’t possibly be warming the entire cabin.

Tamlin had done a number on this place. The door was barely on its hinges, as if somebody had made a poor attempt of putting it back into place.

There was a garden in the front, barren from the winter, with only a few lifeless shrubs to indicate that anything had ever grown here in the first place. And the rest of it was drab, more so than he expected, and he had to force his sympathy deep down in his chest where it belonged.

He’d do his job, play his part, and then he could get damn well out of here.

He raised his hands to the door, making sure to knock lightly enough so the door wouldn’t fall right off.

At first, he thought no one would answer. Perhaps without Feyre here, the family had frozen in the cold. He hoped that wasn’t the case, for the sole reason that it might complicate matters. Feyre would be far less cooperative if she learned that her human family no longer breathed, and…

As the thought formed in his mind, he realized how terrible it sounded.

To his relief, though, Then there was a shuffling across the floor, starting from the other side of the cabin, it sounded like, and the door was pulled back just a hair.

Even though Tamlin glamoured him before he left, this woman seemed to stare at where his mask should be, at where his now round ears would normally point into tips.

So, this was the family that the human girl had talked about. He tried to keep his unimpressed look contained as the woman opened the door wider, a sneer already forming on her face.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“Miss Archeron?” he asked.

She was silent for a moment. “What is it to you?”

“Your father’s ships. They’ve landed at the docks.”

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. It would have been entirely so, if he had been untrained to pick up on such things.

But despite how well-constructed this woman’s mask was, he could pick apart the apprehension, and the disbelief.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“You can call me Lucien,” he said, giving a polite dip of his head. “As I said, the ships arrived just this morning. We couldn’t quite believe it, after all these years.”

She blinked, long and slow. “I won’t fall for your tricks.” She stepped back from the doorway just enough so she could bring the door forward. She said with a snarl, “I would advise you to leave.”

He shoved his foot into the space between the door and the wall, holding back his wince when the woman didn’t hesitate in her movement. It dug into his foot with a searing pain, and the force that this mortal woman put into her blow almost made him wince.

Still, though, he forced his face to be pleasant. “And what makes you think it is a lie?” It rolled smoothly off of his tongue, meant to put the woman at ease.

It didn’t work. Instead, her gaze narrowed on him, ladled with suspicion.

“Nesta, let the man inside,” came a soft lilt from behind her.

Nesta, he assumed, held the door in a death grip, not budging even after the other woman had told her otherwise. Until that woman came to the doorway herself, to see the commotion with her own eyes.

Her own beautiful, deep brown eyes.

Poverty could only hide so much. Even in her simple dress, and the meals she clearly lacked, she was ethereal anyways—a goddess that had somehow taken a human form, who deigned to look at the stranger upon her doorstep with warmth.

He sketched a bow, and murmured, “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure, lady…?”

The corners of her lips lifted as she blushed. “Elain.”

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in your Fire (Pt 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3

Summary: the after math of the meeting in Hewn City

Pairing: Eris x Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: out of character Feyre (Keeping secrets from Rhys) slight angst, fluff 😊

Notes: Ahhhhhhhh !! Thank you everyone who is reading, liking, commenting, reblogging and asking to be on the taglist I love each and every one of you ! This chapter is a little short, but I really hope you like it ! I wanted to get something out this weekend, and cant wait to work on the next part this week !

Eris’ POV

Eris has experienced a lot of fear in his life. Plenty of terrifying moments to plague his nightmares every century of his life. But this- Y/n falling unconscious before them, crying out in agony before the darkness took her- he thought he had suffered all his worst fears by now. He was so devastatingly wrong.

He moved so fast he didn’t have time to think about what he was doing. He was to her before her head could hit the ground. But before he could pull her into his arms, Cassian grabbed her and Azriel yanked Eris back.

“Don’t you touch her.” Azriel growled.

“You’re lucky I moved as quickly as I did! None of you sprang to action and a head wound is the last thing she needs in this state!” Eris defended.

“Why do you even care?” Mor snapped.

“Okay, that’s enough. We need to get Y/n to Madja. This meeting is over.” Rhys started to walk toward Cassian where he still held Y/n’s unconscious figure.

All Eris could do was stand there dumbly and watch as they all prepared to winnow her away, and he would have no way to know how she was or what was wrong. He hadn’t felt so helpless in so long and it felt like a punch to the gut. Only Nesta threw him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but it wasn’t nearly as cold as she had looked at him before.

And then they were gone. And Eris had to sit down, or he may have thrown up. He was shaking with pent up energy and emotions. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her at all during the meeting, not when she has been looking at him with soft eyes that expected a good male to be standing before her. He was not good. He was tortured and twisted and wrong. He knew if he had looked into her eyes he would have fallen apart and gotten to his knees before her to ask for her forgiveness for what had happened with Mor, and even with Lucien. He usually brushed off the comments about those events, any event where his morals are questioned. But with Y/n standing there he felt such a need to defend himself- to explain. But he couldn’t. Not fully. And now Y/n will know he is a monster, and she will never again touch his hands with softness, never again look into his eyes with hopeful caution. Gods. All it took was one damn dance and Eris was a fool for her.

He had to see her again. Had to know if she was okay. For now, though, all he can do is go home to the Autumn Court, and pray his father remained unaware of his absence.

Y/n’s POV

Amber eyes, freckled skin, sharp cheekbones, and the softest red hair. Y/n had been dreaming of this face for weeks, but now, instead of a frozen lake with pain and fear in his eyes, they were on the dancefloor. He still looked at her with fear in those beautiful eyes, but this was a much more vulnerable kind of fear. Not fear of her power, but fear of her looking too closely at him. Fear of being seen. In this dream, he doesn’t turn and run away. In this dream he stays, and they stare into each other’s souls for a long while. Then, she leans into him and rests her head on his chest, and he continues to sway her back and forth until the song comes to an end.

When she looks back up at him, his face is cold. His gaze harsh and unforgiving as he pushes her away. She stumbles, but her family rushes in behind her. Eris, who was soft and warm moments ago, was now distant and cruel as he sneers and looks you up and down before exiting the dancehall.

Y/n jolted awake gasping for air. Feyre was immediately by her side, holding her hand. When Y/n catches her breath, Feyre cups her cheek and wipes away the stray tears that Y/n hadn’t noticed falling. Feyre climbs into the bed next to her. The small bed was set up right next to the fireplace, and Y/n crooned toward the heat and golden glow on her face. It was nighttime, or maybe the early hours of the morning. Feyre laid on the side furthest from the fire, her head propped up on her hand and reached the other out to comb Y/n’s hair with her fingers.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre whispered.

Y/n motioned to her throat in a request for water and Feyre jumped up to get it for her. After a few large, unladylike gulps, she set the glass down on her bedside table. “Thank you. I’m okay. What happened?”

“We were in the meeting with Eris,” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name and tried to not make it obvious she had just been dreaming about him, “when all of a sudden you cried out in pain and fell unconscious.” Feyre finished.

“My head had been hurting throughout the meeting. I don’t know what was wrong, I’m sorry. That must have been so embarrassing and unprofessional. Is Rhys upset?”

“Rhys? Oh Y/n, of course not! He’s been worried sick about you. Like a mother hen. He’s terrible, honestly,” Feyre chuckled softly. It made Y/n feel more at ease.

“But we didn’t get the information from Eris about the Spring Court. I messed up the whole meeting because of a silly headache- “

“Y/n, stop, it’s really okay. Eris was being an ass anyway and- “ Feyre halted as Y/n groaned and held her head in her hands. “Y/n? Y/n what can I do?” Feyre sat helpless as her twin’s face contorted in pain. Y/n swung her legs over the side of the bed to fully face the fire raging in the hearth and she felt the pressure in her head lighten.

Feyre came to sit beside her again, and when she could think again, Y/n started to remember what happened at the meeting. She remembered being confused the whole meeting. By Eris refusing to look at her, by the history with Mor and with his brother, and the rising tension in the room and the distain that her family held for Eris. She remembered the pain in Eris’ voice that no one else could bother to hear, when he said, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.” And that was when the pain in her head escalated to a point that she could not handle. Then she comes to now, when Feyre started to insult him, and the pain came back. The only to help, being the fire… Her twin wasn’t stupid. Y/n knew she had pieced it together too before even looking at her. And it wasn’t her daemati power. Y/n had worked tirelessly on her mental shield.

Y/n slowly turned to lock eyes with Feyre and was met with a knowing but weary gaze. “So… Eris, huh?”

“Ugh, Feyre!” Y/n groaned and threw her pillow at her head. Easily grabbing the pillow, Feyre and Y/n burst out into laughter. They hadn’t laughed like this together in so long. They had been so close until Feyre came to Prythian, and Y/n hadn’t noticed how much she had been missing her sister.

When their breathing slowed and they could once again keep a straight face, Y/n looked back to her sister. “I don’t know. I feel this pull to him, but I also know how much everyone hates him. I mean her tried to take you from us on that damned lake, he apparently has hurt Mor, and I don’t even know what to think about what happened to poor Lucien. And at the same time, I think I see him in a way that not even he can. He is the embodiment of fire, Fey. How could I not be drawn to him like a moth to a flame? I think… I think he might be a good male deep down. But I’m so confused.” Y/n sighed and put her head in her hands again.

Feyre rubbed her sister’s back in an attempt to soothe her. It makes sense, she thinks, for her sister to be intrigued by Eris. But she was in the same boat with their family’s animosity toward the male, it would be difficult to work around centuries of hurt, even if they were misunderstandings. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

When Y/n woke the next morning, it was close to noon and Feyre was gone. Likely off performing her duties as High Lady to get ready for the High Lords meeting, they were planning. As she sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, she noticed a quill and parchment sat out on her desk across the room. Having learned how to read and write not long ago, she thought it might be a sign to practice. She had already missed her usual lesson with Rhys or Amren, so this would have to do.

She wrapped the plush green robe tighter around her shivering frame and sat in the large desk chair with her knees to her chest, her head resting atop them. The desk was a beautiful cherry oak wood, stained to deepen the natural red tint of the wood. The complexity of the color and the grain of the wood had Y/n’s mind wandering to a certain male who was just as complex and had hair a similar shade of red. Thinking of the way his hand felt on her waist as they danced, how warm he was, and the moment of vulnerability he showed during the meeting. She felt her heart crack slightly as she recounted the look on his face and the way his voice broke imperceptibly when he said, “not all of us were as lucky in our friends and family as you, Rhysand.”

The memories had her picking up the quill, dipping it into some ink, and pressing to the page.

She folded the parchment into a triangle shape that could be carried by the wind, and with all her power, willed the wind to carry it to the Autumn Court. Hoping and praying to whatever gods may listen, that no one else finds it.

Eris’ POV

The minute he arrived back in the Autumn Court, Eris was so exhausted that he could have wept when he saw his horse standing there waiting for him. The chestnut stallion was a clear mirror of himself. Tall, deceivingly strong with his lean frame, and a coat the color red that could only be found in his home court. A striking white blaze ran down his long face onto his soft muzzle. As Eris approached him, Ignatius lifted his head in greeting and let out a low nicker. Eris approached him with tired eyes and a small, fond smile. “Hello, friend. Let’s go home, shall we?” Stroking his neck in a few long, slow movements, Eris mounted his steed and they started on their way back to the Forest House.

When they made it back to the stable, Eris took Ignatius’ saddle and bridle off, put him in his stall and made sure he had extra gain for the night. Giving his friend a final brushing, Eris bid him goodnight- although it was likely closer to morning by now.

As soon as his head hit the pillow, sleep embraced him in a tight hold and dragged him to a land of dreams. Dreams of Y/n and her shining y/h/c hair, her soft but calloused hands in his, and her stunning y/e/c eyes staring straight into his soul. He could stay in this dream forever he thinks. Hearing her soft voice say far too kind things to him.

Eris finally awoke when a maid opened his door and startled him from sleep. She squealed and jumped when Eris shot up from his bed, and profusely apologized as she scurries away, closing the door behind her. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed, making his way over to his balcony where the first maid must have come in and set out his tea for the morning. The pot was cold by now, but that was no issue for a fire wielder. Quickly, his tea was hot once again as he sat and looked out upon the grounds of his house. House, not home. As he sat and breathed in the early afternoon air, something caught his attention. It looked like a piece of parchment floating on the breeze. It couldn’t be- but it kept getting closer to him and suddenly in was within his reach. He snatched the paper from the sky and looked at it with wide eyes. He could smell her. Y/n’s scent of cashmere and cinnamon, all things warm and comforting. He closed his eyes for a long moment, just breathing her in. when he regained his composure, he sat down and unfolded the letter.

Dear Eris,

I am fine, in case you were wondering. Truthfully… I’ve been wondering about you. Maybe that isn’t appropriate to say, but I’ve already written it and I simply can’t waste good parchment to not say what I mean and what I feel. I’m confused and I want to talk to you. I don’t believe there is ever only one side to a story and I’d very much like to hear yours.

Y/n

Eris choked out a laugh and had to cover his mouth with a hand to keep himself from breaking out into a fit. He knew she was bold, but this was something he could not have anticipated. She was thinking about him. Eris shook his head to clear his thoughts and rushed back inside to his large mahogany desk. The drawers painted the shade of green of the forest after a heavy rain. After he thought through what he wanted to say, he put ink to paper and wrote out his response. He hoped he didn’t seem desperate by responding with such haste, but he too was wondering about her and wanted to know her. So, he held the letter in the palm of his hand and set it alight.

Y/n’s POV

Despite the late start to her day, she tried to regain some sense of control by tracking down Cassian for a training session, eating lunch and doing some studying that Amren assigned her in the library. By the time she got back to her room, the sun was setting, and she asked the house to bring her dinner to her room.

With her eyes half closed from exhaustion, she plopped down on her couch in front of the already lit fire. When she peeled her eyes open, she noticed a small, folded paper sitting in front of the hearth. She felt her heart jump to her throat as she scrambled to reach for it on the ground. Holding her breath, she unfolded the paper delicately. As if it might turn to ash in her hands.

Dearest Y/n,

I am glad to know you are alright. I was… worried. About you. I am also happy to see your boldness knows no bounds. You fascinate me and I find myself wanting to know you. But it seems you have questions for me too, so let us make a deal. A question for a question. What do you say, little dove?

I eagerly await your response,

Eris

Taglist: @abysshaven @myromanempiree @lilah-asteria @96jnie

@ivy-34 @minaethrym @nebarious @anxious-study @slytherintaco @talesofadragon @paleidiot @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @tenebrisirae

[utterlyotterlyx]

Hiii <3 Could you do number 4 from the prompt list with Eris? It's my first time asking for a prompt or anything so i hope this isn't rude. 😅

Aw my loveeeee it isn't rude! Request your little heart out <3

I've already done 4 but I'll do it again for you with a different spin on it.

Can't Keep My Hands To Myself

Modern!Eris x Reader

Summary - It's no secret that Eris has always wanted you, and now he has the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

Warnings - slight pining, some fluff, swearing, hand fetish

The sun bounced off of the hood of Cassian's car, and if you looked closer you could have sworn you could see wisps of steam rising from the matte black finish.

Folding your arms over your chest, you huffed, already knowing what was coming as soon as you'd point out a certain problem.

It had been Elain's idea to go to the coast that day, mainly so that you could all go to the theme park that ran along the beach, all being yourself, Elain and Lucien, Nesta and Cassian, and Eris. The latter of which was leaning against the hood of Cassian's vehicle with a sly grin written on his lips, sunglasses low on his nose, and hands bundled into his pockets.

Eris Vanserra was the bane of your existence, the cocky son of some noble lord in England who had moved to your state for college and had set an unfortunate eye on you. The heir could have anyone he wanted, but he was too busy chasing you to notice.

Eris had crashed one too many of your dates, and when you had made it clear that he needed to stop being an alphahole, he would slyly quip that none of the men you allowed into your life deserved you. He would always show his face at Elain and Lucien's apartment when you were there, which made you certain that one of them, probably Lucien, was sending him updates whenever you would show up. Eris stuck to your side when the entire circle decided to go out, whether that be bowling or dinner, or even clubbing, Eris was always reluctant to leave your side.

Possessive bastard.

You had lost count of how many times exactly you had denied his advances. It wasn't that you weren't attracted to him, you'd be foolish not to be, but you didn't really fancy ensuing a relationship with a future lord, you quite liked your life the way it was.

You majored in architecture, you had always appreciated the beauty of buildings and landscapes, you had travelled Europe and spent weeks in Paris where you sketched and redesigned buildings until your heart was full and bursting with inspiration. There was nothing you couldn't create.

Life as a lady didn't appeal to you, but life as an architect travelling the world and creating masterpieces very much did.

So, you made it your mission to deter the heir in whatever way you could, from cold shoulders to harsh quips, but it only seemed to spur him on more.

Eris stood before you, red hair perfectly styled into pushed back waves, looking far too good in his black jeans and open collared black shirt, a thin chain hung around his neck which matched the bracelet on his wrist, rings littered his fingers and you found your gaze drifting to his hands, hands you had thought about often when you were alone. You imagined them running through your hair and pulling at it, you imagined them around your throat, you imagined his fingers drifting along your thighs and gripping the skin there.

It was so sinful how much you thought of Eris' hands.

The door opened behind you and you rolled your eyes at the Archeron sisters who walked ahead of both Cassian and Lucien, who both looked exhausted from their bickering already.

Unfurling your arms from your chest, you pulled down the edge of your tennis skirt and tucked in a loose section of the deep green polo you adorned, "About time," you told them, "I'm baking out here."

"I know a place that could cool you down," Eris drawled from behind you, and you turned your head slightly to see him at your shoulder, looking down on you with his usual longingly seductive eye, "You, me, the Swiss alps on skis."

"Sounds positively awful," you smiled sickly sweet at him before moving your attention elsewhere, "I also hate to state the obvious but there are only five seats in Cass' car, and there's six of us," you motioned between the circle you had all formed and shrugged.

"What if you-"

You held your hand up in front of Eris' face, shushing him into silence, "If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you."

Cassian threw his head back and laughed, a howling one that filled you with pride as he walked to the driver side of his car, "Hate to break it to you Princess, but you don't have a choice."

"Why me?! Surely it makes more sense for Elain and Lucien to cuddle up?"

Elain ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, flinging the passenger door open, "It's my birthday so no, plus Lucien injured his knee at baseball practice so he needs to be able to stretch it out. Sorry, Y/N," Elain wiggled her eyebrows at you and dipped into the car, no doubt securing her spot in the middle seat.

Scowling, you turned to Eris who had never looked happier, fluttering your eyes in annoyance, you pointed at him, "Don't get any ideas, Vanserra."

Eris threw his hands up in mock surrender but the smirk didn't leave his lips as he spoke, "Wouldn't dream of it, y/l/n."

It took you a few moments to become settled in his lap, and you cursed yourself for allowing yourself to be friends with bright and shiny Elain, if you hadn't then you wouldn't be sat on some heirs lap, nestled on his thighs like some kind of trophy.

As soon as you were comfortable, you propped your feet on Elain's lap which she was happy to hold since you drew the short straw, and you leaned back onto the doorframe, half on the body of the interior and half on Eris.

His scent was earthy, wafts of pine and freshly blown out matches, you knew he smelled good, but you didn't realise how much.

Eris draped one of his arms over your legs and the other around your waist, and you couldn't exactly bark at him to fuck off when they were the only two places that his hands could go. His fingers delicately danged off of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your skin with every bump in the road, the coolness of his bracelet clashing against the warmth of your skin.

If only his fingers could go a little higher, and just grab the flesh of your thigh...

No, y/n.

Elain had convinced the car to play a game, a game that you and Eris had quickly denied, you were both quite happy with the silence. That is until you felt him frown and lean over slightly to peer at something, his fingers drifted along the hem of your skirt and he lifted it slightly to take a peek.

Your gaze found him, his russet eyes darkened with intrigue, "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he hummed, allowing his eyes to trace along the swirls of black ink that created an arrangement of delicately drawn roses and geometric shapes that encased your entire hip.

Cassian's car hit a bump and you jolted on Eris' lap, his arms instinctively wrapped around you to keep you in place as your head hit the roof of the car, "Sorry, y/n. These roads are awful," Cassian apologised, one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Nesta's jeaned thigh, rubbing soft circles into the fabric whilst she idly read her book in the front passenger seat.

If that were you, your soul would no doubt be going feral.

Then you felt it, you felt his had travel from your waist to your unbound hair, he ran his fingertips along your scalp and rested his palm on the top of your head, "Are you okay?"

It took you a moment to reply, trying to control the shivers that spread in your soul like wildfire at his touch in the place you had dreamt of, "Yeah, 'm good," your tone was relaxed as he worked his fingertips into the crown of your head, kissing away any pain from the jolting force that had pushed against it.

"Do you like that?" Eris purred, and luckily no one was paying attention to either of you, Nesta was reading, Cassian was driving, and Elain and Lucien were looking out of the window of the travelling car talking about whatever animals they saw in the clouds.

"It might feel nice," you admitted bashfully, knowing you couldn't lie to the sly fox whose eyes always found you no matter how far apart you were in a room.

Eris let out a low hum, tilting his head to the side as his fingers slid from your scalp and rested on the back of your neck, "You're a touch starved little thing, aren't you?"

"No," it came out a little harder than what you had intended it to, but he wasn't wrong, especially when he was the reason that you were so touch starved and basking in his affection.

Eris chuckled, seeing straight through you as always, as his hand ghosted down your spine whilst his other found your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, smirking as you wiggled on his lap, "Careful sweetheart, you have no idea how close I am to losing it," his voice was a rough whisper in your ear, he knew exactly what effect he had on you.

"I can't help it."

"I know, you have no idea the effect you have on me," his finger grazed down the earring that dangled against the curve of your jaw.

"Oh?"

Eris hummed, "One date, y/n. It's all I ask."

"Eris..."

His digits slipped between your thighs and he traced circles into the skin he found there, "Just one. Let me show you the life we can live together. Please?"

You weren't sure if it was his deep tone or his hands on your body that made your mind foggy, but he had convinced your head and heart to agree. Moving your head to meet his eye, you narrowed your own and pursed your lips, "Fine. One date. Make it worth my time, Vanserra."

Eris' whisky amber eyes glistened in the sunlight, "I think you forget how well I know you sweetheart. You're not a coffee date girl, or a movie date girl, you're not a hiker either. You're a dreamer, I see you all of the time looking at the stars, I see the heavens in your art, I see the sky in your eyes. I think I know the perfect way to make sure you never entertain anyone other than me."

The confidence he radiated made your thighs clench together, an act that didn't go unnoticed by him as his eyes darkened again with desire, he licked his lips, throwing his head back as you squirmed on his thighs again and did his best to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat.

"One chance, Vanserra. Make the most of it."

Eris straightened his posture and winked at you, letting his hands roam freely over your back and thighs, "One chance is all I need."

Authors Note

Just a short little drabble - I did a 13 hour shift today and your girl is TIRED.

[acourtofladydeath]

Hope Is A Fickle Thing

🎶 I've been keeping a seeeecreeeeet... 🎶

HELLO @yanny-77!! I have lied, schemed, and manipulated (with so much love) my way through the @acotargiftexchange to ensure I could deliver you the most perfectly curated fic possible. It was an absolute honor to be your Satan this gift exchange, and I hope you love this fic: an Empyrean angst inspired Azris calamity of errors featuring as much sword lore as I could wrap my head around. -Love, your Satan 😈🖤

Eris travels to the Night Court to surprise Azriel, hoping to sneak in a romantic rendezvous. Unfortunately, the night goes horribly awry. How many members of the Inner Circle will walk in on them? Guess we’ll find out.

***This fic takes place post HOFAS and includes spoilers for the Crescent City series.

***This fic contains direct quotes from Fourth Wing and Iron Flame woven in as parts of the plot. How many can you find?

Read a snippet below or start the full fic on AO3!

Running a hand through his hair to wrestle the short strands back into place, Eris let out a determined sigh. His steps echoed through the wide, empty halls deep within the Forest House as he set out toward his room. The day had been long and advisors more tedious than ever; pushing back against Eris’ attempts to prepare Autumn for his eventual reign.  Beron still sat atop the throne, High Lord in title, though his power waned. Each day Eris felt a new trickle join his amassing magic and he knew it would not be long before he’d need to make his move. All but one of his younger brothers stared at him with hungry eyes, anxious to steal what was rightfully his.  Pushing open his door, Eris tried to act unsurprised by what he found. His youngest brother lounged before the fire, long legs draped over the chair’s arm. Eris groaned internally, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling. He’d been hoping to unwind by himself for a moment, but no matter; he could prepare for what came next with or without Lucien there.  “Who let you in?” Eris asked, voice monotone in an attempt to disguise his disgruntled state.  Lucien scoffed, righting himself in the chair. “Why, I let myself in. You did get father to lift my banishment after the war.”  “Stop making me regret that.”

Continue reading on AO3.

Thank you to @suebswrites for being the absolute best spy and beta, and to @climbthemountain2020 for betaing and being the most supportive mod! Shout out to Vanth for connecting me with Suebs in the first place!

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @pippsmcgee @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yanny-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @climbthemountain2020 @amalhe-kofee @molcat07

[purple-writer8]

I Know Places - ACOTAR

Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader

“They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run.”

warnings: abused eris, autumn court shenanigans, mentioned abuse (verbal and physical), talks of violence, forbidden love, beron being beron, beron being abusive, physical abuse, angst, sexism, the autumn court brothers, angst, beron slander (as he deserves)

1.1k words

Part Two to But Daddy I Love Him

Masterlist :)

Your father had struck you across your face. He killed you. Killed you and killed your happiness. You thought he would understand, that he would let you marry Rhysand and you would be happy. What a fool you were to think Beron would ever allow you free will. “I’m sorry, darling,” your mother had been comforting you for hours now. 

 Your head rested on her lap as she weaved her fingers through your dirty blonde hair. “How can he be like this? Why doesn’t he want me to be happy?” You cried softly, your hands gripping your mother’s skirts with a white-knuckle grip. 

 “He… well, he loves you… he means well…” she trembled as she spoke, and you knew that she did not mean that. “How can you say that, mother? Means well? He struck me three times…” you sobbed unto her lap, your heart aching for one person— your lover. 

“Darling, I know he is… unorthodox in his ways, but he cares about your future.” You sat up from your stance when she spoke those words, rage flaring inside your body at her claims. "Cares about my future?! How can you say that after what he did?" You spat angrily, your hands burning with your fire that was just begging to be let out. 

"Rhysand is a bad man... his court... it's a nightmare. There are no morals there. He is a cruel, wicked man, just like his father," your mother contested. You could tell that she was distressed, just like you could tell how abused she was by your father, how she feared him even when he was not around. 

"Do you think I am daft, mother?" You asked quietly. 

"No, honey. You are just youn-" You cut her off. 

"Do you think I don't know, mother? You think I haven't seen how beaten he leaves Eris after he makes a small mistake? You think I haven't seen how he eggs Fenix on to compete with Eris constantly? How he beats each of my brothers into oblivion? You think I don't know what happened to Jesminda and Lucien?" You were erratic, trying to get her to understand that you were no longer a child. 

Your eyes drifted to her arms, covered by her long sleeved dress, "you think I don't know what he does to you?" 

The Lady of Autumn stilled, her face falling as she stared at you solemnly. "I have tried to protect you... Eris has tried. Even Beron has tried. Our reality is not perfect, but your father loves you, and he wants to protect you." 

"I don't need protection, mother. I am not a child anymore... I am a female grown... and I want Rhys, and he wants me." You stated in an unwavering manner. 

"You must understand that Rhysand is not a good man, honey. The Night Court is the worst place to be, the fae there are deranged and depraved," your mother countered. 

You knew there was darkness in the Night Court, but you also knew there was light. So much light. You saw it, Rhys had shown you. But you could never say that, you had promised to keep Velaris a secret, and you would. "There must be good there, mother. I know there must," you stated softly. 

When she did not answer, you said, "he loves me and he would never hurt me. I deserve him, and he deserves me. I wish to be happy." 

She blinked and wiped her hands on her skirts, shaking her head, "your father has made up his mind, it is time you come to terms with that. We are Vanserras, it is the hand we were dealt." With that, the Lady of Autumn left your chambers, sending you further into despair. So, just because you were a Vanserra you had to deal with abuse and unhappiness? 

You would let your family say what they wanted, but you wouldn't hear it. Loose lips sunk ships all the time, but not this time. Left to your own devices, you decided you wouldn't put up with your father's abuse. You rushed to your vanity and rummaged through the cabinet that held all of your trinkets until you found it. 

A mirror.  A beautiful sapphire encrusted mirror given to you by Rhys a few months back. You reached for your red tube of lipstick and wrote on the glass, Come and get me. It was an enchanted mirror, made for the two of you to communicate through it, since he could not reach you in Autumn. You set the mirror down and waited, hoping that your lover hadn't shoved his own mirror in a drawer and forgotten about it. 

You spent the day pacing back and forth in your chambers, hands trembling as you constantly checked the mirror for a reply back. Rhys, please, you pleaded in your mind. 

"I love it when you beg," you let out a happy shriek when your lover appeared in the middle of your room, having winnowed in suddenly. You jumped into Rhys's arms, snaking your own over his neck and pulling him in. His arms slithered around your waist, holding you steady as you held on to him for dear life. 

"Thank the Cauldron," you cried happy tears, ready for him to take you away from this cage. Rhys pulled away and inspected your figure, his violet eyes turning dark, his thumb grazing over the bruising on your cheek as he growled, "Beron." 

A tear slipped down your cheek, a tear he collected with his thumb, "you won't ever suffer under your father again." 

"I just want to go with you," you sniffed, leaning your head against his hand as he cupped your cheek. The door to your chambers opened swiftly, "sister, I've brought you suppe-" 

Eris dropped the plate when he saw the High Lord of Night holding you close, his expression turning into steel. You yelped and clung to Rhys for dear life as your older brother sent fire bolts his way-- bolts that bounced off the shield Rhysand had put up around the two of you. "It doesn't have to be like this," Rhysand told your brother in a sing-song voice. 

"Let her go! This is a breach! This means war, Rhysand." Eris growled and you could only shake your head. "I'm sorry," was what you said before Rhys winnowed the two of you away. 

As you were winnowed into a manor-- in the Night Court, you assumed-- you fell to your knees, loud sobs leaving your body. Rhys was quick to kneel with you, taking your trembling hands in his. "This is what you want?" He asked in a soft tone. 

You nodded, "for me it's always you. It's only you, but... I'll miss Eris."

"I know, lovely. But this is the only way." 

"I know." You said, standing up with his help. 

A feline smile spread on his face as he motioned to the starry and gorgeous view outside the balcony he had winnowed into, "Welcome to the Night Court." 

-

Author’s note:

Part three of her meeting th IC and fluff? ALSO THANK YOU SM FOR THE COMMENTS ON PART ONEEEEE i am bursting with love

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs @x-reader-x @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143

Series Taglist: @minaethrym @cherry-cin @acourtofimagines @slytherintaco @mp-littlebit @misskennygirl @umgatochamadopercyval @nayaniasworld @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[scorpioriesling]

Random Tropes HC (pt. 2)

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

Pairing(s): Lucien / Eris x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok where you can rank book tropes, and this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of these posts -- enjoy! Part 1

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

Lucien - "Only One Bed"

You were definitely crushing on Lucien -- who wouldn't?

You were close with him and Tamlin, working at the Spring Manor until you became more than an employee, but a friend.

Well, a friend to Lucien anyway.

Tamlin took note of how well you were able to spy, and turned you into his own personal Spymaster.

You didn't mind too much -- after a while, Tamlin warmed up to you. He also appreciated how you made Feyre feel more comfortable when she first arrived in the Spring Court.

As fate would have it, you and Feyre were a lot alike.

It didn't take long to see what was going on. She was planning to run.

Over the last few months, Tamlin grew more enraged, more angry at the world. You couldn't stay, you knew you had to get out.

And Cauldron be damned, Lucien was coming with you.

He wasn't happy about it at first, especially when the two Night Court warriors winnowed Feyre away and left the two of you to walk the rest of the way to the Night Court.

"Do you think he will change?" Lucien asks you, the cold wind ruffling his hair. You shiver against the wind.

"No," you say after a long moment. Lucien pulls you close to him, heat radiating from his body against the chill.

"I don't know if we could ever go back." He says. You sigh and bury closer to him, trying to keep in step with his long legs.

"I don't think he'd allow us back." You say. Tears prick the back of your eyes, but you blink to keep them at bay. Lucien changes the conversation, happier topic chosen this time. He is talking about all the delicious food the Night Court must have when you finally spot a motel in the distance.

"Our salvation!" Lucien gasps. He grabs you by the arm, pulling you with him as he breaks into a jog. You're panting trying to keep up, but you finally make it to the building.

"We're just about sold out." The stocky female behind the desk murmurs. Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You're standing behind him, and you place a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, gaze softening.

"Ma'am, we'll take whatever you have left." You say. She rummages through her drawers, presenting a single golden key on a long corded string.

"Floor 2. Last door on the right." She huffs. You anxiously take it from her, looping the string around your neck. The key dangles like a pendant on a necklace as you take Lucien's hand in yours and lead him upstairs.

Some salvation this is.

There's only one bed.

A blessing in disguise.

"Cauldron..." he sighs, slinging his bag to the floor. "I'll just, take the floor." He says, moving into the room. You furrow your brow.

"Lucien, do you think I've never had a sleepover before? We can share." You say. You rifle through your pack for extra clothes, and with a wave of his hand, the candles and fireplace are alight with warmth.

"Well... only if you're okay with that." He says. You nod, realizing then that you have no sleepwear. Lucien seems to realize the same thing as his hands come up empty.

"You can shower first, if you were wanting to." You offer kindly. The firelight is painting his features beautifully, and you force yourself to look away. But Gods, was it hard.

"Thanks!" With that, he was heading for the bathroom. You sighed, flopping down on the bed. You hadn't expected this level of comfort from a motel bed, but the soft silky blankets, the plush pillows...

You sighed a breath of contentment, fingers toying with the gold key laced around your neck.

You stripped down to your undergarments, as your clothes from the day were filthy. Folding them into a neat pile beside the bed, you slipped under the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your body as the blankets had not yet warmed.

Lucien finally came out of the bathroom, his eyes raking over your bare shoulders not concealed by the covers. He choked down a cough, and you kept your eyes closed as he slid into the bed next to you.

His bare arm brushed yours, and your eyes flew open. You readjusted to lay on your side, and so did he at the contact. However, now you were face to face.

"Are you... cold?" He asked. His sweet gaze held yours as his fingers timidly grazed your shoulder. Fresh goosebumps appeared, and you shivered.

"Yes." He frowned.

"Comere." His hand gripped your waist, fingers over your hip bone as he pulled you flush against him. You pretended not to notice the growing buldge pressing against you as his hand traced small patterns over your back.

"I can give you some of my body heat, if this is okay?" He asks, voice low and raspy. Maybe it was the way his lips were inches from yours, the small candelight illuminating his perfectly sculpted face...

Or maybe you had finally decided to be honest.

"It's more than okay." You said. Heat returned to your cheeks, and a small smile danced on his lips as his gaze flicked between your eyes and mouth.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, trailing down your neck to the small key still looped around it. He toyed with it for a moment, before his lust-filled amber eyes met yours once more.

"I can give you more, if that would be okay too." He whispered. You shook again, this time the excited, anxious, energy rolling from you.

"It's more than okay."

Eris - "Who Did This To You?"

Reading was one of Eris' favorite pass times.

In fact, it was one thing he had in common with you.

The only thing, he swore.

One of many things, actually.

In fact, Eris was doing just that when he heard a commotion outside. Usually, it was his father. He'd learned not to get involved, but this time...

This was different.

His heartstrings tugged as he strained his ears, trying to listen beyond his windows for any indication of what was happening.

"Please... please..."

He snapped his novel shut, flying to his feet and racing outside. He wasn't sure what had come over him -- but he knew. He could feel it. You were here, and you needed him.

He'd thought over and over the last few years how you'd cry. How he would and could make you do it. Thought about killing you himself, once. Using his fire on you in ways he'd done only once before. You were acting like a lap dog, sitting with the Inner Circle at one of their meetings. Rhysand didn't let you talk, of course. You didn't even challenge him. You always let him walk all over you.

Maybe that's what pissed him off so badly.

You were packed full of good ideas, talents, advice; but you bowed to Rhysand, and that was that. You never spoke up for yourself.

You were worth so much more than that. You could offer so much more than you were allowed.

He tore through the hedge maze, snapping branches, feet thundering around every corner. His breathing was heavy, eyes searching in the night to find you.

"Please, Eris... someone..."

He followed your pained whimpering until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck, dried flakes throughout your usually vibrant tendrils. Your hands braced over your abdomen, tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you looked at him in desperation. His heart broke in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him.

His sadness turned very quickly, to anger. He felt... violent.

He ran his hands over your face, seeing blood pouring from your lip, and he reached up to move some hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing pool you sat in. Well, one of the causes. He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, more crimson drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek. His whiskey eyes were dulled to a deep bourbon, his jaw clenched.

"Come with me."

He scooped you up, carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out small yelps, the searing pain in your stomach too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. He felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were. A gentle, wise, doe. His gentle doe.

He finally made it inside, sitting you on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he ran to the washroom and returned quickly. He presented a small wet cloth, taking your chin in his fingers and beginning to wipe away the red stains over your delicate skin. He tried so hard to stay gentle with you, trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes instead. It only caused him more pain, seeing you like that. His head dropped, and he raked a hand through his hair.

"Put this in here," he grabbed a clean cloth, folding it and raising it to your mouth. You opened, usually defiant towards your enemy, but, really... you'd do anything he asked. He placed it between your teeth, and his hands covered your bloody ones, still clutching your stomach.

"Y/N... you have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, removing your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp, shaking his head.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your stained fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on your for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest, I've thought about hurting you before as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus as your mind started to fog, vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view, fingers ablaze with fire. You sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again. His hand meets your bubbling would, fire searing the skin as a scream tears through your already dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for a moment only to press heat onto your would again.

Your hands rip and claw at the collar of his shirt, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would.

Over. Over. Over again.

You lean back, knowing the familiar weightless feeling. You were going to black out. His once-white collar slips from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before you slink into darkness.

When you come to, you're wrapped cozily in silken sheets, a pair of fleece pants covering your legs. Soft sunlight streams in through... a window. You blink, widening your eyes and looking around. The mahogony sheets were an unusual replacement to your lilac ones, and the four poster wooden bed was a change as well. Your eyes caught on a bookshelf, one with many titles like yours, at least. One book sat on the window seat, basked in sunlight. It was a title you'd already read.

You were in Eris' room.

You lean to sit up, but cry out in pain and lay back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you bore. A bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing any injury. Your mind went to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

In moments, Eris is passing through the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" He steps to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to get out. Eris readjusts to face you, a hand stroking through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed, and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of snow under your knees, rocks in your palms only the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you stifle another cry. Eris brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second.

Again, he asked, eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, who did this to you?"

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

[acotarxreader]

Shadow and Flame pt.5

Azriel X Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions but no description of torture, mentions of burns, YN reopens a wound but no heavy description, tooth aching sweetness

A/N: Part 5! Ah! I absolutely quick fired (hehe) this one. I really enjoyed writing the series for you, it gave me back the joy of writing and hope you love this final part! I have plenty more down the pipeline and hope you'll join me for the journey. Let me know what you think of this part, hope it lives up to your expectations!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

**************************

“So it’s settled, we’re going”

“Az, it's not that simple, we can’t just enter the Autumn Court uninvited-”

“Beron came here uninvited!” Azriel snapped back at Rhysand as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to push the brewing headache away. Cassian watched his two friends pace up and down Lucien’s destroyed study, the Emissary had gone for alcohol, lots of alcohol. 

“If we want to get political-”

“Lets not-”

“If we want to get political, Beron was coming for a member of his court, as we have many times before-”

“-That's not good enough Rhys!” 

“I’m thinking here!” Rhysand shouted back at Azriels heightened tone.

“Why don’t we just send Lucien, invitation in hand and he brings her back-”

“-I will not trust him with her welfare again Cass. I am going to the Autumn Court at dawn, I am going to get my mate back and I am fucking getting what I deserve!” 

“You will go nowhere, I will not have you sacrificed for anyone” Azriel went to object to Rhysand as Lucien came in with jugs of whiskey, the colour still fighting to return to his face.

“Any progress?” Lucien questioned as he passed a jug to Cassian.

“No…actually Lucien I’m just going to get a glass for this” Azriel nodded before making a swift exit, leaving the jug on the desk next to his mate's life sentence. The room was still for a moment, the males left racking their brains before Cassain interrupted the silence with a very good question.

“Since when does Az need a glass to drink?” The three looked panicked amongst one another before darting out of the room, the Shadowsinger now well on his way to the Autumn Court, sending Rhysand shouting unrepeatable words. 

****************************

You sat at the vanity in the doorless room, staring in the mirror at the Fae you didn't recognise anymore. You ran a finger over the wound the guard had given you, promptly reopening it to bleed. If you were to walk up the aisle tomorrow you would do it with the Court knowing all is not well. It stitched itself back together almost instantly, you didn’t even have control of your cells anymore. You sat there blankly staring until the sun crept over the forest, the day you spent so long running from had arrived. 

Maids were winnowed in, all with bags of products to use on you. You sat stoically still as the maidens brushed your hair and applied layers of make-up, your father's doll. You moved like a seamstress model, standing as they pinned your dress around you, crimson and white silk flowed down you. The happiest day of your life was the day you wanted to die the most. You let it all happen around you, unable to bring any element of energy to fight to your soul. 

The wall opposite to the tall windows seemingly peeled away from itself, a door reappearing in the fine wallpaper. Your father in his finery entered, the staff immediately making themselves scarce. 

“Come YN, your future awaits” he stretched out his arm and the shell you had become took hold of him, gliding alongside him through the hallways. He stopped outside tall decadent doors, glaring at a nearby guard to open them. The room was like a hollowed-out church, an altar with no pews for guests, no semblance of a place where people would come to rejoice. Standing at the top of the narrow aisle where your funeral march would take place was a broad and brutish male, decked out in his Court’s colours. You walked up the passageway, your father's hand crushingly over yours.

“YN Vanserra, I am pleased to make your acquaintance” your father released you with almost a jolt towards your groom. Beron moved to stand between you both, the officiant of the event.

The General's hand reached before snatching yours with force and bringing his lips to your fingers, kissing them. You felt you were going to pass out, the air struggling to oxygenate your lungs, it was thick, thick like smoke. Thick like shadows. 

“YN!” you whipped around to find Azriel striding up the aisle, Truth Teller angled at your groom. You felt awash with emotions, you moved from your highest high at seeing him to the lowest of lows as you realised your father's lure had worked. 

“Az stop!” you shouted, your throat hoarse from last night. You glanced between Azriel, the General and your Father, the latter's face twisting into pure excitement. 

“Az-Az I don’t love you, leave, I’m marrying the General” you forced the lies out of your mouth like bile. Azriels face seemed hollow, lowering his blade back to his side at your last ditch effort to have Azriel escape. 

“Y-N you don’t mean that, you can’t mean that,” he said it so small it shattered your heart all over again, you forced your eyes off the Spymaster, glancing at your groom's shoes. The sound of your father clapping so sickly slow hauled your attention back to him.

“Oh YN, there’s my cruel daughter, shattering a male heart before I shatter his bones” his venomous laugh felt like blades on your skin. Azriel went to react, a tendril of fire stretching across the room to snatch Truth Teller from his hands, throwing it to the feet of the General. His wings splayed ready to fight for his life until the tendrils clawed him to the ground and rolled him in crushing pressure. Azriels face began to turn purple under the coercion as you moved to run to his side, the cold callus hands of the General snatching you back by the wrist.

“I am owed a bride!” He seethed at you, the sound of your wrist joint crushing in his hands. In one swift movement you swung for the ground, snatching Truth Teller and slicing through the bone of his hand. The General roared, his blood shooting outwards at the release of the pressure from the vessels, his feet went from beneath him in dizzying blood loss, collapsing to the floor. 

“Azriel!” you ran to him screaming as he writhed in pain.

“YN, you're ruining your pretty dress” a corkscrew of Beron’s flames leapt at you as he laughed maniacally, singeing your dress. 

You stood in front of Azriel, protecting him from your fathers advances, the room swelling with flames. Beron held the flames around Azriel, squeezing his fist, wrapping the flame tighter around the Shadowsinger, his other hand sending a dart of almost lava towards you. You raised your bracleted wrists, the heat hitting the rings of metal and water dead on. You almost screamed as the water within the casing began to sizzle and steam, it evaporating under the heat of your fathers raging flame. The shackles metal dripped to the floor, freeing you as you threw Truth Teller with precision to land right through your fathers shoulder, hanging his arm by a thread from the joints. Beron bellowed at the pain, the hand controlling the Azriels choking flame gravely injured, releasing the flame from around a scorched spymaster. 

You dove for him, his skin greying at the feeling of the release of insurmountable pain. You called for any scrap of power, grabbing Azriel by a scorched hand. You went to winnow through the small flame you could call to your side as Beron pulled Truth Teller from his arm, hurling it towards you. Truth-Teller sailed with its unshakable precision straight towards your back as you hunched to pull Azriel from the ground.

“YN!” Azriel groaned, using his debilitated strength to stretch his wing around you, for shielding as the blade pierced through a crucial spine of his wing, sticking through the otherside, showering you in Azriels blood. 

You screeched at the feeling of the warm thick blood before pulling Azriel into the flame with you. Your power was weakened after months of it being smothered as you tugged Azriel through the warmth of your own flame. You crashed out on the edge of Forest House’s borders, too weak to winnow the both of you a greater distance. 

“Az, I can’t- I can’t bring us further!” you cried, trying to support his weight, Forest House alarms blaring in the background.

“YN please, go, run, I don’t want to survive if it means I have to live in a world where you don’t love me” he winced out, arm around his abdomen trying to keep his burned skin together. The sound of mobilised guards shuddered the earth behind you both. 

“Azriel, stop, I do, I do love you, you’re-you’re- my mate!” you cried, falling to the ground under your weakened legs and Azriel’s withering body. You reached and kissed him, a silent agreement that you would rather die together than live without one another, the voices of Autumn Court guards growing in volume. 

“Are we interrupting something?” The both of you had your eyes shooting towards Cassian's voice, Lucien and Rhysand in tow. 

“Azriel, I swear to the Gods, you are so grounded when we get home!” 

“Bit of insensitive timing there Rhysand '' Lucien glanced towards Azriels almost dissolving right wing, blood flowing steadily from him as he greyed. Rhysand and Cassian pulled Azriel from the ground, winnowing him away as you went to Lucien to do the same. 

"I promise I'll never let any of them near you again YN, you can trust me"

"I do Luc"

*************

The group crash landed into the Town House, the smell of singed skin and blood filling the living room instantly. 

“Cassian, get Madja!” Rhysand ordered as they lowered Azriel to the sofa. You ran to his side again, copper eyes ablaze. You raised your hands to the bleeding wing, flames coming to your fingertips.

“I’m really sorry Az, this is going to hurt”

“What is Flam-FUCKING HELL” he roared as you pulled Truth Teller from his wing, sending more blood sprouting out like a faucet. Your hands went to cover the extensive puncture, your flames cauterising the wound, healing and stitching the wing back together. He fluttered it gently, its range of motion coming back. You then moved down his scorched body, the healing nature of your flame soothing his body back to health. Madja rushed in, bag of concoctions in hand, stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. 

“Cassian, we need to have a little discussion about the words, near death” she scolded him.

*************

Six months after your near wedding day you moved up through the garden, work bag in hand, humming to yourself. 

“Hello Flame” Azriel sat on the back patio of the Town House, you beaming at his smile. You sat beside him on the bench, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

“I have a gift for you” you reached into your satchel as Azriel closed his eyes, hands out-stretched. 

“Open them” Azriels eye’s landed on the cremated cinnamon bun in his hands.

“Good with healing but bad with baking?” he laughed and you nudged him back. 

“Fine, don’t take the mate offering” you went to take it back as you chuckled, he pulled it back hastily, a smile as wide as his face. He took a bite of the cremated pastry. 

“At least you dont fuck like you cook” 

“Really Az that's the first thing you say to me after I accept the bond” the two of you laughed loudly to one another. Azriel went to take another polite bite, yelping and putting a hand to the side of his jaw. 

“God’s Flame, are there rocks in here-” he pulled the object that almost chipped his tooth from his mouth. A circle of gleaming obsidian shone in his hand.

“I fired it myself, it's made with fragments of Truth Teller that came from your wing that-that time. I hope you like it” Azriel couldn't find his words, eyes glued to the precious present. He wiped the pastry from it, instantly slipping it onto his ring finger where it would remain forevermore. His sweet eyes met yours before pulling a ring from his own jacket pocket. A crimson stone the colour of fire set on a shadow black band. Azriel took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger. 

“If you look into the stone, some of my shadows stay happily inside. They will always be with you Flame and so will I” he swept the hair from your face and planted a tender kiss to your lips. 

Symbols of the forever bond that lies between shadow and flame.

---------------------------------

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