#throne of glass dorian havilliard x reader
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throneofsmut · 5 months ago
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Sweet Little Prince
Dorian Havilliard x Reader || WC: 1.9k || Warnings: None
Summary: Dorian finds out he has a son he didn’t know about. Based on this req.
A/N: Whoever req this i hope you like it. Idk if this is what you expected but it’s what came to mind.
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Your son had finally fallen asleep causing you to let out a relieved sigh as you brush back his raven-black curls from his face.
A smile gracing your lips before placing a kiss on his forehead and quietly making your way out of his room, heading down stairs back to the kitchen.
You find Rowan putting the chocolate cake into the oven to bake.
“You finished it?” you ask as you step up beside the oven. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but I didn’t know how long you’d be.” He replies without looking over his shoulder at you. “And I know you want to get the recipe just right for his birthday tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
He gives you a nod before rising to his full height again and moving to the sink to wash his hands. “Your sister wants to talk to you.”
“About what?” You lean on the island that’s in the middle of the kitchen.
Rowan turns around facing you as he dries his hands. He doesn’t say anything until he’s done and places the damp towel on the counter. “About you being Queen of Terrasen and ruling beside her. Together.”
You shake your head, brows furrowed, “Since the war ended, I think I made it pretty clear I don’t want to be Queen.”
“Why?”
“I told you, why already. You, Aelin and Aedion. I don’t want it.”
“Tell me again.”
“Rowan—“
“Tell me.”
Letting out an annoyed sigh, glaring at him for a moment before telling him. Again. “I don’t want to rule. I don’t want a crown or a throne. I have no taste for duty. I’m not suited for it.”
He crosses his arms across his chest. “Have you ever considered that, the best ruler, might be someone who doesn’t want to rule?”
A small chuckle slips through your lips earning a glare from him. “No, I don’t. Because I don’t want it.”
“Your sister just thinks that—“
Aelin walks through the front door of your cottage, “I just think that, it’d be safer for both of you if you moved into the castle and were crowned. She reaches the two of you in a few long strides. “You would be Queen and he”—your son—“would be the crowned Prince.”
Now it’s your turn to cross your arms across your chest. “He’s technically already a prince and I’m capable of keeping us both safe here—in our home. We don’t need to be in the castle.”
Your sister’s—your twin’s— face softens and she walks up to you. “I know he is,” she says gently. “I know you are. . . but please think about it. And if you don’t want to be Queen here, what about Adarlan? Dorian keeps asking about you.”
“Aelin,” you sigh, “you’ve been telling me to ‘think’ about it for two years now and I don’t want it. Or Adarlan’s”
She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can your son’s voice cuts her off.
“Mommy?” he calls out. “Mommy, where are you?”
“Coming, baby,” you call back.
Aelin steps back and you make your way upstairs to his room. As soon as you walk into his room he sits up in his bed. “I hear Aunty Aelin and Uncle Wowan, downstairs.”
“Did they wake you up?” You ask as you sit on the side of his bed.
He nods his head, rubbing his eyes—one sapphire blue and one bright ashryver blue, ringed with gold—“Can I say ‘hi’?”
You breathe out a small laugh, nodding, “You can say ‘hi’ but then you have to go back to sleep.”
He nods his head and lifts his arms for you to pick him up.
You head back downstairs with him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around you.
Aelin and Rowan both walk up to meet you, closing the distance. “How’s my favorite nephew?” Aelin coos.
“He’s your only nephew,” Rowan points out. Which earns him a glare from your sister.
“Say ‘hi,’ baby.”
“Hi, Aunty Aelin. Hi Uncle Wowan.” His little voice is still thick with sleep.
They both greet him back with loving smiles.
“Why are you awake, little prince? We trained a lot today.” Rowan asks him as he brushes a rogue raven-black curl behind his little pointed ear.
“I hear you and Aunty Aelin and I wanted to say ‘hi’.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” Aelin praises.
Your son smiles, his cheeks dimpling, and he turns to look at you. You can’t help but beam at him in return. Your own cheeks dimpling too.
He lightly tugs a golden blonde lock of your hair before whispering—not so quietly—“I go sleep now?”
“Yeah, baby.” You chuckle before giving Aelin and Rowan a quick look and they nod back at you.
And as soon as you’re done tucking him back in he’s sleeping. You kiss his forehead before heading back down stairs, “Sweet dreams,” your whisper into his night filled room.
“Fireheart!” Rowan scolds your sister as she shoves a forkful of steaming chocolate cake into her mouth.
She spits it out before even chewing it and you frown. “That bad?”
She shakes her head, brows furrowing sadly, “No. It’s too hot.”
“I told you to wait,” Rowan grumbles.
“Anyways,” you drawl out. “Why’d you come so late, Aelin?”
“My meetings ran long today and I had an unexpected visitor come.” She blows on a new forkful of cake to cool it down. “They’re going to be visiting for the week.”
You arch a brow, “Who?”
“A friend.”
Your gaze slid to Rowan, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been here all day.” And he was right. He’d been here since the morning teaching and training your son because the raw magic he’d inherited from his father began showing.
And a two—practically three—year old with raw magic and fae ancestry needed to be taught control early it seemed.
Also because fae males—even half fae males were deadly. Rowan and Aedion knew that so they came and helped you teach your son control. Fenrys and Lorcan had given up after your son had learned to summon fire and burned off their eyebrows.
Aelin groaned as she chewed a new bite of cake. “Good?” you asked. She nodded, still not finished chewing her first bite before getting another. “Are you still going to be able to make it to his birthday tomorrow?”
She gave you a look as if to say, Obviously, before finally telling you with words. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Your sister and Rowan said their goodnights and Rowan had to practically drag her out because she was still trying to eat the chocolate cake. So to make it easier for both of them you just told her to take the whole thing with her. Her eyes glinted as soon as the words left your mouth.
You woke up early the next day to get everything ready for your son's third birthday and you had practically finished setting up and getting ready by the time Aedion and Lysandra came to help set up.
An hour later the rest of Aelin’s court—your little family—arrived.
Everyone was enjoying themselves and eating while your son and Lorcan and Elide’s daughter played together while Evangeline watched over them.
You got up from the table to go get the cake, still needing to frost it and add the candles.
Aedion rose with you, “Do you need help?”
Giving him a small smile as you gestured for him to sit back down, “No, I got it.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be quick.” You reassured him.
Setting the cake on the counter that was in front of the window where you could still see your son playing with his cousins. He was conjuring fishes with his water magic and making them dive in and out of the lake in front of him. His cheeks dimpled as he laughed along with the girls.
You were so distracted by your son and the cake that you didn’t hear anyone walk in until they called your name.
“Y/n?” He called.
You stilled as your heart dropped before slowly turning around. The frosting spatula clutched so tightly in your hand your knuckles were white.
“Dorian,” you breathed.
He was still as beautiful as you remembered him. Tall, tan skin, sapphire eyes and raven-black hair. But, he was broader now—more muscular. And in place of the black collar that was around his neck the last time you saw him was a pale line.
“Why— How—“ he stammered.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m visiting. . . I got here yesterday evening and Aelin said you were all celebrating a birthday and invited me.” You were going to kill her.
“You settled.” He pointed out, his eyes taking you in.
Even though he wasn’t necessarily asking, you responded anyway. “Yes.”
“How? You’re twenty, I thought you weren’t going to settle for a few more years.”
“I didn’t think so either, but, uh, I actually settled while I was pregnant.”
Dorian’s face flickered with so many different emotions before he schooled his features and simply asked, “Pregnant?”
“Yeah. . . and not only did I settle but my son’s magic made me fully fae.” You didn’t know why you were just telling him everything. “The healers don’t know how either, but him being half fae confirmed it.”
“Son?”
“It’s his birthday today,” you told him.
Dorian’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything your son’s laugh drifted all the way back to the cottage and cut him off. His sapphire eyes shot to the window and he sucked in a sharp breath.
There was no denying the resemblance. He knew he was the father of your son.
His gaze turned back to you and there was so much pain and regret in his eyes but hope too. Maybe even love. “Why didn’t you tell me?” was all he said though.
“I was going to,” you admitted. “But before I got the chance to,” your voice cracked, “your father ordered you to kill me when he found me trying to talk to you.” A tear rolled down your cheek and he stepped closer to you and wiped it away. “So I ran. To keep us both”—your son and you—“alive.”
Your words weren’t malicious, just honest.
“You don’t remember?”
His eyes were still on you as he shook his head before looking out through the window again. “I missed so much,” he whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear him.
“I’m sorry.”
Dorian pulled you into a hug, “Don’t be. You’re both here. Safe and alive. That’s all I care about.” His words made you cry harder and he only held you tighter and kissed the top of your head.
You both were so caught up in your own world that you didn’t hear the little footsteps that bounded into the kitchen.
“Mommy?” Your son called and you and Dorian pulled apart.
He walked up to you and you crouched down to get to his level. “Why you crying?” He asked, his small hands wiping away your tears.
“I’m just so happy, my sweet little prince.”
He smiled and turned to look at Dorian. “Are you mommy’s friend?”
Dorian chuckled as he crouched down too, tears welling up in his eyes, as he looked at a small version of himself. “Yes. Her best friend.”
Your son smiled impossibly wider and stuck his hand out towards him and introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Dowian.”
Dorian looked at you and this time a tear fell. He cleared his throat, taking your son’s hand, “Hi, Dorian. My name is Dorian too.”
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verperina · 5 months ago
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On The Throne
Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader 
Summary: Dorian fulfills your fantasy of being fucked on his throne.
Warnings: 18+ smut
Word Count: 2,943
Author’s Note: I’m not 100% satisfied with this, but I’m still proud of myself for finishing it. I stayed up until 4:00 in the morning to finish writing and editing, and then put it in my drafts. And please ignore how boring/dumb the title is. I couldn’t come up with anything else.
“Everyone out.” Dorian’s voice rang throughout the room, echoing off the marble floors. The guards quickly left, including Chaol who sent a glance toward his friend and then to you before shutting the doors behind him. The room was completely empty now. It was just you and Dorian, who still had his eyes on you.  
Chaol had fetched you from the library, informing you that Dorian had requested your presence in the throne room, but did not say why. When you asked if something had happened, Chaol had quickly reassured you that the king was fine and had simply wanted to see you. 
The way Dorian was currently looking at you—a predatory look in his eyes—made your heart skip a beat, and you took a moment to study his clothing. He always dressed immaculately, but today he showed to be the perfect portrait of royalty. His black hair neatly combed with a gold crown placed perfectly upon his head, a fitted black jacket embellished with red and gold, a silk tunic, black trousers and black knee-high boots. The wedding ring adorning his finger—a silver band with a sapphire jewel that matched your own—gleamed in the sunlight.
Your body started to feel warm, your dress too constricting.
The corner of his lip tugged upwards and he reached out a hand, gesturing for you to step up the dais. “Come here.”
You remained still. His eyebrows faintly rose at your defiance and you could see a sliver of amusement in his eyes.
“Ask nicely,” you said, a small grin starting to form on your lips, “and then maybe I will, husband.”
He chuckled, the noise coming out breathy. “Please, come here my dear wife.”
After a moment of mock contemplation, you obliged, slowly walking up the steps so you wouldn’t trip over the fabric of your dress. 
Once you were within his reach, you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together, looking at his wedding ring before speaking. “When Chaol came to get me I was worried at first—I thought maybe something had happened.” Dorian’s gaze softened. “He was quick to reassure me that you were more than fine, although he didn’t share why you wanted to see me.”
Dorian started to smile. “I didn’t tell Chaol why I wanted to see you.”
“And why is that?” you asked, head tilting to the side.
“Because I didn’t want him to know that I would very much like to fuck you on my throne.” You choked out a laugh and felt your face begin to warm. His smile widened at the sound, sapphire eyes bright. A few weeks ago, laying in your shared bed after hours of passionate love making, you had confessed to Dorian about your fantasy of having sex on his throne—with no one else in the room, of course—and he had only laughed and playfully teased you before fucking you once more. You thought he had forgotten all about it. Apparently not. He added, “But I’m sure he will figure it all out rather soon.” And then a sly grin came across his face. “If he doesn’t, then I’m sure the noises will be confirmation.”
“Your mother would be horrified if she found out,” you mused. It was no secret that Georgina Havilliard wasn’t overly fond of you. When envisioning a future wife for her eldest son she favored the idea of a princess or at least a woman of high nobility, not a commoner like you. But Dorian didn’t care about her opinion and had no problem voicing it. He loved you and that’s all that mattered.
Your husband only shrugged before lightly tugging your hand. You saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes and knew that he wanted to indulge you in your fantasy. You lowered yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips and his large hands immediately gripped your thighs. Bringing your hands to cup his jaw, your thumb lightly traced the sharpness of his cheekbone, and then brushed it against his bottom lip.
You let yourself take time in admiring his features. His beauty. Just Dorian himself. Your Dorian.
Removing your hands from his face, you lowered them to his shoulders, and then to the firm muscle of his abdomen through his clothing. His stomach tightened at your touch and with one last glance at his face, your lips found his in a soft kiss, one so at odds with the burning desire that snapped through the air. Your entire body was tingling from excitement and the feeling of his warmth seeping into you.
Dorian’s tongue meets yours tentatively, waiting for you to lead the kiss, letting you decide how you wanted it. You let yourself take control. You alternate between gently nipping his lips and stroking your tongue against his while running your fingers through his thick hair. 
Your heart was racing and your face warm. Dorian pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. His lips were swollen from your kisses and his tanned face was a light shade of pink. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed, sapphire eyes glazed over with lust.
You swallowed, trying to catch your breath. “You.”
“Want me to make you feel good?” he murmured.
“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, and not bothering to wait for him to take control, your hands grip the collar of his tunic as you drag Dorian in for a kiss that’s desperate and a little sloppy. His tongue in your mouth once again, and his hands move to cup your ass, kneading the flesh. A pleased sigh leaves you.
He deepens the kiss. It’s demanding and ravenous. You let yourself melt into him, let yourself just be here in the now with him. Unashamed and happy. You teasingly roll your hips against his hardness, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot through you, and a low, rough groan escapes him. You repeat the motion again, feeling arousal pool between your thighs.
His lips began to plant kisses along your jawline, and then leaves a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. Sucking the skin before harshly biting, a gasp leaves you at the slight stinging sensation. “I want to see my marks on you.” And you wanted to see his marks on you too. You wanted everyone to know that no one could touch you like Dorian could. That no one would ever be able to please you like Dorian did.
His hands started to untie the front laces of your dress, your bare breasts now exposed, and your nipples hardening from both your arousal, and the cool air. His lips leave love bites on your neck and collarbones, and then your breasts. You looked at him to see that his eyes were already on you, pure hunger shining in them.
And when Dorian brought your nipple to his warm mouth, you couldn’t stop the strangled moan that left you. Your back arched as your hands came to rest on his broad shoulders. He continued his torturous teasing; the rough sucking, the gentle biting. Your head tipped back as his fingers tugged at your other nipple. “Dorian,” you mumbled. Your cunt was wet, the lace fabric starting to become uncomfortable.
He wasn’t using his phantom hands. He wanted you all to himself. 
He lips wrapped around your other nipple, continuing the same ministrations but even more harsher this time. Your thighs tightened around him. He shuddered when your body moved against his, a debauched sound escaping his throat—a sound you wanted to hear more of. 
You continued to slowly grind yourself on him, desperate for some kind of relief. A pathetic whimper was voiced when your sensitive clit rubbed against the fabric of his pants. 
“I need more.” The words came out as a plea. It wasn’t enough. Your body craved more. 
Dorian released his mouth from you, looking into your eyes and said, “Tell me what you need and I will give it to you.”
“You inside of me.”
Your fingers trembled as you quickly undid the button to his pants and then his zipper. He pushed the skirts of your dress further up until your panties were completely visible, and without hesitation he pushed the material to the side and slid a finger through your folds, a breath leaving him at the feeling of your wet cunt.
You brought Dorian in for another kiss, one that left you breathless, and then pulled back to look at him. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, pretty flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. He still had the pale band around his neck from where the collar had been, but it did nothing to diminish his beauty.
“You’re beautiful,” you breathed. 
Dorian laughed, his eyes glimmering with mirth, and your heart skipped a beat at how joyous it sounded. “I prefer devastatingly handsome.” He paused to kiss you once more. “But thank you.”
You smiled and opened your mouth to respond, but a moan came out when he slid a finger inside of you, purposefully slow. You looked down to see his finger sliding in and out, gathering more of your slick. “You like seeing me touch you?”
You nodded, slightly rocking your hips and bringing your hand down to rub your clit at a steady pace. A silent hiss left your lips at the contact, and pressure started to form low in your belly, a bundle of nerves starting to become more intense. His other hand kneaded your breast, adding more stimulation, making your orgasm grow nearer, even more so as a second finger entered you.
Your cunt started clenching rhythmically, eager to find that release you desperately wanted. You started rubbing your clit faster, feeling a sheen layer of sweat on your body and hairline despite the room being a little cold. You could only imagine how messy your appearance was right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to particularly care.
Breathy gasps left you as you climaxed, your body shuddering from the intensity as Dorian helped you ride through your high. The feeling leaves you in ecstasy, slightly buzzed. Only when you stopped pleasuring yourself did he gently remove his fingers. 
He brought them to his mouth, sapphire eyes glazed over with burning desire, and tasted your arousal. A pleased sound left him. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he pulls you in for a fiery kiss, your tongues stroking against one another. 
You push down his undershorts, his cock springing free, hard and the tip leaking with arousal. You swallowed. You wanted Dorian to fuck your throat until tears streamed down your face, but that would happen next time when you two had more time, it could wait. Instead, you grabbed his cock and stroked him, and Dorian tipped his head back.
Your thumb collected the moisture at his tip, rubbing it along his slit and he groaned. You could tell that he was restraining himself from bucking his hips. After giving a soft squeeze, you very slowly start stroking him. His brows slightly furrow and his hands tighten their hold on your backside. You give a harsh tug, and then another before picking up your pace a little more.
The restraint that Dorian was holding onto broke free as he removed your hand from his length and tightened a fist over it, giving a few leisure strokes of his own, and then angles himself up with the entrance of your cunt. And when you finally lowered yourself onto his cock, you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran throughout your entire body. The feeling of him being inside you felt so warm and full.
You both paused for a moment to just breathe each other in, and then you began a slow pace, placing a hand around his throat and the other on his chest to balance yourself. The stretch of his cock is a delicious torture; you could never grow tired of this. A shaky breath escapes your lips as you ride him. His hands come to rest on your hips to help steady you.
You could feel a thin layer of perspiration cling uncomfortably to your back, but you ignored it as you lightly squeezed Dorian’s throat and closed your eyes, feeling nothing but pure bliss. 
Very slowly you start to move a little faster, his heavy breathing encouraging you. Each time your hips moved upward you squeeze around his cock, making his eyebrows lightly crease from pleasure and his hands tighten their hold on you. You bring your mouth to his, and heavy, forceful kisses leave your lungs burning for air. Your hands and his own are all over each other, frantic, as if you two can’t get enough of one another. 
“How did I get so lucky?” he asked. “How did I get so lucky as to have you?”
Before you could open your mouth to respond, Dorian’s hand came down to harshly smack your ass and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, but harder this time and it causes you to clench around his cock, and in response he lets out a quiet groan. He lets his nails lightly scratch the side of your ass before slapping you again. You wouldn’t be surprised to find handprints later on.
He stopped your movements by firmly grabbing your hips, and before you could question what he was doing, he slammed you down onto his length—hard. You both let out choked moans and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. He repeated the same motion thrice more before snapping his hips upward. The sound of skin-on-skin echoing throughout the room.
“You can take it,” Dorian panted. 
His hands are still holding your hips in place to keep you in his control. Your back arches in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your lips, and a deep pressure starts building in your belly, tingles rippling through your entire body. You plead for your husband to go faster, desperately wanting to find release. Your mouth hangs open as your forehead falls against his, and a bead of sweat trails down your temple from your hairline. You ignore the uncomfortable feeling of sweat clinging to your body.
Your hands cup your breasts, kneading the flesh before rolling your nipples in between your thumbs and forefingers to add more stimulation. You groan at the sensation. Dorian watches keenly, his throat bobbing. 
Your cunt is throbbing painfully and your walls are pulsing as your body tightens around him. He releases his hold on you so you can move against him, and you bring your hands to rest on his shoulders to ride him faster.
“Take what you want,” he encourages. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”
You whine at the praise, clenching around his cock. He moans at the feeling of your tight, wet walls around him. The sound sent a rush of pleasure to your core. He kisses you harshly before speaking again. “You’re doing so good for me. Always so good for me.”
The knot in your stomach twists. “I’m going to come,” you gasp out. Your movements become chaotic and uncontrolled. You start rhythmically pulsing around his cock and he snaps his hips in a frenzy to help bring your climax closer. 
“That’s it,” he rasped. “Come for me.”
With a loud moan, your orgasm rolls through you in an intense convulsion, your vision blurring. Your toes curl so hard in your slippers they begin to cramp as pure ecstasy floods your body. Your limbs tremble and spasm as you hold onto Dorian tightly, burning your face into the crook of his neck. 
He curses, nipping the lobe of your ear as his warm hands grip your thighs. His hips buck frantically, chasing his own release, and when you clench around him again he groans loudly, spilling into you. His breathing is ragged against your neck as his thrusts slow down before coming to a stop. 
The two of you trembled in each other’s arms as you came down from the high. You sigh, closing your eyes, letting yourself rest your head on his chest and listen to the erratic beating of his heart. Dorian lazily ran his hand up and down your back. His touch is soothing and gentle, like always.
The air in the room was stifling, too hot, despite it being chilly when you had first arrived. You swallow, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. You could feel your dress stick uncomfortably to your skin from sweating, and stray pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead. You were too dazed from your orgasm to care about your appearance.
“Do you think Chaol knows?” you ask softly. Both of you had been in here for more than ten minutes and neither of you had exactly been quiet, and Chaol wasn’t dumb; he saw the way you and Dorian were looking at each other before leaving the room.
“Given how loud you and I were, then yes, I would assume so,” Dorian says. “But if he isn’t aware, then I have no problem fucking you again.”
You laugh loudly at that and he joins you, the sound making your heart skip a beat. You had no problem with being fucked on his throne again, if anything it made you want to do it again. 
“I would like that,” you respond, stifling a yawn.
“I thought as much.” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that Dorian was smiling, and you felt a smile bloom on your lips too, feeling happy and content with being in the arms of your husband.
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moonlitstoriess · 6 months ago
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Across the Universe-ch.12 (Fenrys x Reader)
Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.
Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Minors dni, mentions of trauma, SA, mentions of violence.
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Y/n's heart raced as she watched Lucien standing before her, clutching the Book of Breathings like a lifeline. His presence felt surreal, almost like a figment of her imagination materializing in the midst of a crowded room. She could hardly believe her eyes; Lucien, battered and weary, was standing in front of her.
Lysandra closed the door behind them, sealing off the sounds of the ball and leaving the room in a hushed anticipation, y/n's focus remaining fixed on Lucien.
"Lucien," she murmured, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern. "How did you manage to come here? And what happened to you?"
Lucien's gaze flickered around the room once more before settling on Y/n's face, his expression haunted yet determined. "It's a long story," he began, his voice tinged with weariness. "But I had to find you. The Book led me here."
"The Book led you?" Y/n repeated, her mind racing with questions. 
Aedion wordlessly tapped Lucien on the shoulder, making the redhead turn around to see him pointing at a chair to sit while Elide filled a cup with water from the table.
After he sat down and drank the water, they gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. After a minute, Lucien sighed and began speaking, "I came to Velaris for a monthly visit,"
"The one where you visit for a week and we cause every kind of chaos?"
Lucien smiled slightly at his long-time friend as he said, "Yes, imagine the shock on my face when I found out you were gone, completely disappeared thanks to this book. Everyone was going absolutely crazy. Rhys had ordered every priestess at the library to search for ways to bring you back, even contacted Thesan to order his librariens in Dawn to search for any kind of information,"
He took another sip of his water before continuing, "Az, I don't even know, y/n he- he was just....mad like he isn't in a right state of mind at all because of your disappearance-"
Y/n scoffed, "Yeah, right. Seems like I had to fucking go through worlds for him to feel anything for me-"
Lucien looked at her with a mixture of many different emotions, "Y/n, I don't know what happened between you two but Az has completely lost his mind. Anyways, that we can discuss later, the point is....when I went to Amren's house to see her progress with this book because I was obviously very concerned for you, she told me she can't seem to get past a spell on the book, its like this ancient thing isn't allowing her to break through it. So I sat by her side and decided to see what I can do to help but....."
"But...?" y/n urged, her eyes growing more curious and yet warm towards the male, her close friend, sitting in front of her.
Lucien looked down at his hands that were still clutching the book, "But, then Rhys called Amren to the house, saying Thesan sent an ancient text related to this but the language was too old for any of them to understand. She told me to stay here and guard the book, to not listen to its nonsense words and she will be back soon. Once she left, at first everything was fine but then.....then it just started speaking, hissing and whispering, calling me to it, urging me to open and flip its pages. I tried, I really tried to ignore it but.....I caved in and then when I was close enough and my fingers had opened the book, it was like.......like....."
"Like you were stuck in one place and couldn't move. Like your body had a mind of its own." Y/n finished his sentence for him, seemingly remembering her own experience with the book.
Lucien once again lifted his head, looking up at her, "Yes! Yes, exactly! And then the next thing I knew, everything around me was disappearing, the book as well and then it was just darkness before a voice whispered to me that 'you are home now, fire prince' and I woke up in a grassy hill, surrounded by...well, an expanse of greenery."
Before anyone could interfere with their questions, y/n held up her hand, eyes wide and calculating as realization slowly dawned upon her.
"I heard the same exact thing when I ended up here. The book also led me here in the same exact way."
Dorian was the one who seemingly caught up to her trail, adding "While everyone in your world is having troubles getting here, breaking through the books spells...."
Lysandra continued next, stepping forward to stand beside the king, eyes wide, "Y/n and you were sent here by the book itself. We found out later on that y/n was a witch and had a connection to the gates, her mother being the oldest and strongest witch to ever live, Elara."
A few gasps were heard around the room but the shifter just shook her head, "We can discuss that later, what I mean now is that we found out y/n had a purpose here and that's why the book sent her, that she somehow was needed to be here, in Erilea, in Terrasen. And now, you were sent here by the book and seemingly it came with you this time. What could your purpose be, prince?"
Lucien just furrowed his brows and shook his head while Yrene came forward, Chaol right beside her, one hand on his sword, as she gently kneeled beside the redhead and asked softly, "May I....may I have the book please?"
Lucien hesitated, looking towards y/n to see whether or not he should trust the woman. Once he saw her nod, he turned his head back at the healer and handed her the book with a small, unsure, smile.
Yrene smiled back at him before taking the book and getting up, "I have a theory that I need to test with this and the other book so I would like to excuse myself now, goodnight everyone."
It seems like Chaol would blindly follow his wife anywhere because as Yrene left the room, he trailed right behind her, going wherever she was going.
Aedion turned his head back at Lucien and drawled, "Soooo....what do we do now?"
Before anyone could reply, y/n stepped in front of the redhead prince, her gaze determined as she said, "Lucien isn't going to harm anyone so you do not have to be on alert around him. He will stay here as well, and will help us find a way to sort out this mess."
Lorcan just nodded his head, putting his arm around Elide as she said, "We trust you y/n, so we trust him as well."
"I can show him to his room!" Eva's voice filled the room as she raised her hand, an adorable smile covering her face.
She heard Lucien chuckle behind her as Lysandra said, "Me, y/n, Elide and you could show him. The witches could join if they want to."
Elide smiled, shaking her head, "I need to check on the boys, you three go."
Manon just raised an eyebrow while crossing her arms, "Isn't y/n a witch too?"
Oh that's right. She was a witch. And she started to actually like that name.
Y/n shrugged as she patted Lucien on his shoulder, signaling him to get up, "Well, this is MY friend from MY world. He needs to see a familiar face around, no?"
She glanced at the prince beside her, expecting to see him nodding but instead found him staring at....Petrah, who was right beside Manon, also staring at him.
Lysandra broke their haze as she just came to stand beside y/n, hooking arms with her, "Well then, Lulu, let's get you to your room, shall we? We will all make better introductions and explain everything in the morning."
Lucien's gaze drifted to the shifter, raising an eyebrow as they began exiting the room and walking towards the stairs, "Lulu?"
Y/n and Eva chuckled as Lysandra winked at him, "I just came up with the nickname, thought I could use it."
He just smiled slightly before shaking his head and looked back at y/n, her gaze still filled with concern as she gently asked, "Why are you in this condition? How did you get through the woods?"
The fox looked forward as he explained, "After I woke up in the middle of nowhere, I just went through the forest and clearly had an 'amazing' time for the past two day."
Y/n furrowed her brows, "Strange, when I woke up, the first thing I saw was Fenrys- another member of this court, standing right over my head. How come no one detected your presence?"
Lysandra also had a confused expression etched on her face, "Our wards are strong, at any sign of unusual interference, Rowan and Aelin would be informed, that's what happened when you landed here. But, I don't understand how we never felt Lucien's presence within these borders."
Eva stopped abruptly, turned to look at them all with wide eyes, "What if its because of the Valg? What if they have somehow managed to break through? If that's the case, imagine how many of them could have entered these lands...."
Both Lysandra and y/n looked at one another, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, the former said, "Yes, that's....that's actually a very good posibility."
Y/n slowly nodded, "We will have to speak to Rowan tomorrow-"
"What are you all talking about? What's a Valg?"
All three of them turned to look at Lucien who was just glancing between them, brows furrowed in confusion and arms crossed over his chest.
Y/n shook her head, closing her eyes, "Lu, you have a lot to catch up on. We will tell you everything tomorrow morning."
He was clearly confused and had like a million questions of his own but nodded his head in understanding as they continued on their way.
"Actually, I don't know anyone here except y/n dearest, so, could you tell me your names?"
Lysandra smirked at him, "Lysandra Ennar Ashryver, lady of Caraverre.....also a shifter."
Lucien's eyes widened in shock, "Shifter? Like, you can shift into anything?"
The green eyed woman laughed while nodding as y/n put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Lysandra loves shifting. Just last time, I was almost about to step on her when she was a ladybug."
Lysandra winked at the winged female as Eva, smiled brightly before saying, "Evangeline, book and chaos lover."
Everyone laughed at that as they reached the room where Lucien will be staying in, "Well, Lulu, this room is yours for the keeping."
Lucien said his thanks before the shifter and Eva left, leaving y/n alone with him.
He looked at her with raised eyebrows, "A witch? Really?"
Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "Believe me, I was just as surprised when I first found out."
He smiled widely now, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and joy as he suddenly hugged her tightly, whispering, "Oh, y/n I am so glad you are well. I was so, so scared that none of us would ever see you again."
Her eyes closed, a smile overtaking her lips as well as she hugged him back, just as tightly "Lu, I am so glad you found me. So much is going on that I was beginning to think that I would never find a way to go back home. You being here is proof that there is a way."
They seperated but not before she felt him gently squeeze her uninjured shoulder, "Me too, y/n, me too."
She smiled at him one last time before turning to walk away, but not before saying, "They are not bad Lu, you don't need to doubt them. I started to get along with them, I am sure you will too."
Lucien looked to the wall beside her, seemingly lost in some memory as he gently smiled, "Yes, I think so too."
When morning came, she was once again making her way to the training grounds, preparing to fight some of the stress out.
Y/n was expecting to be alone, to have some peace and quiet in order to gather her thoughts and think over everything that happened in the past hours, with the breeze, birds and trees being her only companions right now.
What she was not expecting to see, was the very male who had her pressed against a wall last night, throwing punches at the air, looking as hot as ever. She would never admit it but, y/n was very glad to have this front row view at Fenrys' half naked, broad, large body, full of muscles and scars, glistening with sweat, his pants hanging loosely around his waist. The wound seemed to be almost healed as a singular bandage covered the side of his torso. His hair thrown in a messy man bun, his arms and biceps bulging as he dodged and punched and hit and moved.
She should be mad at him. He left last night after that amazing moment, leaving her frustrated both sexually and mentally. She must demand answers, why did he leave?
But looking at him now she just wanted to touch him, feel him. Why does her body react this way only and only to him? When she just sees only and only him-
Fenrys turned around, panting heavily as their eyes locked. Y/n felt all the air get knocked out of her the second those hot, frustrated, intense and dark eyes focused in on her. He took her in, starting from her eyes and slowly going down to her legs. She should turn around and leave, run away just like he did but all she could do was stand there and soak in the way his eyes roamed all over her, giving y/n the chance to also take him all in.
Then, as if nothing just happened, he turned back around and went towards the table holding a pitcher full of water.
Oh, no. He did not just ignore her. He had a lot to answer for and y/n would make sure she got them out of him right here, right now. Taking slow steps towards the other side of the ring that held weapons, y/n gave her best indifferent expression and willed her body to calm down as she kept her voice steady, her eyes trained on the array of bow and arrows, "So, you will just ignore me, Fen?"
No reply, nothing.
Very well. Her hands took a bow and began inspecting it, "Did you not like it? Personally, I loved it, Fenrys-"
"Stop lying."
Y/n picked a stack of arrows together with the bow and turned back around. He was leaning against the table, still breathing heavily as his head tilted back and he stared at the sky. Displaying that delicious throat that was so tempting, y/n just wanted to bite and kiss it nonstop.
But, her mind was somewhere else now, pondering over his words.
"What? I am not."
He just closed his eyes but said nothing.
Y/n slowly moved closer to him. "Fenrys-"
"Stop- stop it y/n, alright? What we did last night was wrong. A temptation into which we both fell, but it won't happen again."
Now, she was pissed. He was so cryptic, so hard to read. Who does he think he is? Making decisions on her behalf?
Y/n turned her back to him, finding a circular target. The bullseye, a small red circle at the center, seemed to beckon to her, challenging her to hit it dead center. Taking a deep breath, she raised the bow, feeling the tension in the bowstring as she nocked an arrow and drew it back. Her movements were smooth and practiced, the muscles in her back and shoulders tensing with controlled strength. She closed one eye, aligning the arrowhead with the bullseye. With a final exhale, she released the arrow.
The arrow struck the target with a satisfying thud, embedding itself just outside the bullseye in the second outer ring. A rush of adrenaline and frustration surged through her as she took another arrow, scoffed at not hitting the center and spoke, still not looking back at him, "You think you know it all don't you? Think you know what's best for me? Well then, you are no different than any of the males I had in my life."
And suddenly, he was right behind her, his naked chest slightly grazing her back as he gently but firmly held her arms and moved them just an inch, changing the angle as he held her other hand under his, helping her keep the arrow stable, his breath hit her ear as he whispered, "I know your friend is here. That only proves my point how sooner or later, you will go back because your life is there, not here."
And with that, he let go of her suddenly, making her release the arrow. With a satisfying thud, the arrow struck true. It buried itself deeply into the bullseye, dead center. Her eyes widened as y/n turned around to look at Fenrys but he was gone, completely disappeared and she was left all alone in the middle of the training ring.
Fenrys was feeling a mixture of emotions. Anger, frustration, confusion, and hunger. Hunger for her. Hunger because last night left him hungry for more. Fenrys thought that it was just a silly little temptation, that he just had to kiss her in order to get her out of his system, that he would be satisfied and move on once he had a taste of her.
Oh, how wrong he was. The second his lips were on hers, his hands touching her plush body, bringing her closer, Fenrys realized that she would be his doom, his undoing. She was absolutely intoxicating and he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. Now that he had a small taste of her, all he wanted to do was to keep tasting more.
But then Lysandras knock brought him back to reality as realization dawned upon him. She would be gone, she wasn't from this place, she had a real home, people concerned for her, y/n had a life.
She had a life and he would never be a part of it. She would go back to Prythian and move on, fogetting him. But he wouldn't forget her, no. How can he when she was the only being ever in existence to cause him to feel a bunch of emotions? How can he when she was the only one to ever cause him to react so much?
The appearance of that Lucien was just proof that whatever this was could not go on. Lorcan and Dorian told him about all that happened last night and Fenrys couldn't understand why his heart physically hurt at even the thought of her going back. They didn't deserve her. None of them, and especially not Azriel. Oh, how Fenrys wished to see that male atleast once so he could teach him a nice little lesson.
Well, his mood definetly did not improve when he entered the dining room to see that redhead sitting with his family, talking and laughing. He just went to his chair as Aelin kept talking, ".....I can't believe you have fire powers as well! Mine are no longer that strong but I still got a spark atleast!"
Lucien smiled as he took a bite of his meal, "Yeah well, I was born into a house full of fire magic. All my brothers have this power too. Autumn court is known for this fire."
The queen smiled even more brightly, "I want to visit that place now."
Lucien just chuckled while shaking his head slowly, "I don't think you would like it as long as my monster of a father is its high lord."
"Believe me, we have met our own fair share of monsters." Dorian said, his eyes looking at everyone in the room knowingly.
"Oh, Beron is a self-centered viper. Lu, when will Eris finally take over?"
That voice. That melodic, hypnotizing voice. He saw from his peripheral view how y/n entered the room and completely went past the empty seat next to him, choosing to sit right fucking beside Lucien.
Don't react. This is what you wanted right? The further she is from you, the better.
Lucien's eyes widened slightly as he chuckled, "You like Eris? I thought everyone from Rhysands circle hated him"
Y/n shrugged while cutting up her meal, "Yeah well, I don't. Why should I?"
Lucien smiled softly now, "Me neither."
Rowan raised an eyebrow, "Something we should know? Is Eris also going to make a surprise appearance?"
Lucien shook his head slightly, "No, my brother has bigger things to deal with right now."
"Bigger than the valg?" that question came from Lorcan as he just stared at the prince, his gaze indifferent.
"Well, as I said earlier, our world never had such things as Valg-"
"They explained you everything?" y/n's voice made Fenrys clench his fork as he just kept looking at Lucien and not the female right beside him.
He noddded his head, "Yes, they told me everything and now I know why the book is so important."
Y/n was about to say something when a roar interrupted her. Petrah quickly got up from her seat, "Seems like Luna isn't tired after our morning ride. I will go check on her."
"What is that?" Lucien's question made Manon chuckle and Petrah raise an eyebrow as the former replied, "A wyvern. Ever seen one?"
Lucien's brows furrowed even further, "No, what-"
Another rumble. Petrah just smirked at him as she said while walking towards the door, "Come along, prince, I'll show you."
Fenrys caught how Lucien's gaze seemed to change the second he looked at the witch. How his pupils slightly dilated and his eyes just took her in. He knows how it feels because he experiences the same thing whenever he looks at y/n.
Lucien was clearly in another world as he just stared at the witch because the second y/n gently nudged him, he shook his head slightly, as if coming back to reality, and got up to follow Petrah.
Well, seems like someone has got a crush. Wait. Does that mean Fenrys also has a crush? No. Impossible. He just kept on eating his food as his family continued their conversation. Throughout the whole meal, he tried his hardest not to glance at her, not even once.
He didn't look at her. Not even once. Usually, y/n would feel whenever his eyes were on her, watching her. But this morning, he didn't even glance at her. This wasn't her plan. When y/n entered the room, she purposefully avoided his gaze and sitting next to him, instead choosing to sit beside Lucien.
"And yet, he didn't even react. Honestly, I don't understand him, what do you think I should do?"
Abraxos just let out a low, sleepy rumble from his place on the flower field.
Y/n just laughed, tilting her body back until she was sitting against the beasts large body.
"Thanks for the advice, friend."
Abraxos lifted his wing and gently draped it over her, causing y/n to smile while caressing it.
"I see you two seem to be enjoying your time."
Rowan's voice caught her attention as y/n lifted her head up to look at the silver haired prince coming her way.
"Well, this certainly is a surprise. Don't you have princely duties to do?"
He chuckled as he sat down on a small boulder across from her.
"I went out into the border earlier in the morning, and guess what? Eva's assumption was true, the wards around this place are ten times weaker than before. They have definetly been broken through."
Y/n sighed, "And what do we do now?"
The male just shrugged and looked down at his hands that were on his knees, "We wait. Yrene is hard at work on something that she won't tell anyone, not even Chaol, so it seems like whatever she is doing, is big."
She nodded her head, wordlessly and thought that he would leave after that but instead, Rowan said, "I heard you, you know."
"Don't tell me you heard everything..."
Rowan chuckled "Well, maybe not everything but enough to know that something is happening between you and Fenrys."
Y/n scoffed, "Nothing is happening between us. Atleast not anymore."
Rowan smiled slightly before turning his head to his left, looking at the fields beyond.
"You know, Aelin and I despised each other at first."
Y/n's eyes widened, "What?! impossible! you two seem so in love now."
"Now, yes. Before? Oh before all I wanted was to slit her throat. I actually punched her when we first met."
She couldn't hide the disbelieving laugh that left her throat, "W-what?!"
He turned his head back to her and laughed as well, "Yes! I thought that she was a spoiled, self-centered brat. That she had no idea about the reality of the world and wasn't ready to be queen."
He sighed and looked at the wyvern, a sad smile on his face, "We fought a lot at first, I insulted her and she insulted me back, she was fire in every sense of the word and I used to be afraid of getting burned by it, I was avoiding it. But then, after seeing her scars, both visible and invisible, I started to sympathise with her and eventually, I let myself get enveloped by her fire."
Before y/n could say anything he got up and went to caress Abraxos, his voice a quiet melody now, "I thought I had a mate, her name was Lyria and I had met her in a market. She was very beautiful, and I remember feeling this tug towards her from that very first day. Long story short, we mated and she got pregnant. But, while I was away, she and our unborn child were both murdered. I came home to find her mutilated body lying in her own cold blood. I had this tattoo done in order to carry the shame of not being able to protect my mate for eternity. It details our story, from the time I saw her to the day I came to find her dead, cold body on the floor."
She gasped, her hand coming to cover her mouth, "Rowan, I- I don't even know what to say. I am so sorry, and not to be rude but.....isn't- I thought Aelin was your mate."
He just kept on caressing the wyvern, not looking at her, "Turns out, Maeve led me to believe that Lyria was my mate and then, had her killed. Aelin was my true mate, and Maeve knew it, she just had this twisted, forged plan to use me for her advantage. To also break Aelin."
Y/n whispered, her eyes on the flowers, "And did she...break?"
Rowan looked at her, a small smile overtaking his face, "You will have to ask that from her."
And with that, he turned his back towards her, and started walking back to the palace. She called after him, "Why did you tell me all this?"
He didn't turn back. Rowan just kept walking but she heard him say, "So that you can make sense of your own destiny, of where your purpose lies."
Before she could question him, she saw Luna land on the ground and Petrah come down from her back, followed by Lucien and....and a struggling man that was tied up in ropes.
Y/n jumped to her feet, running towards them as Lucien came forward with the prisoner tightly held in his grip, Petrah right behind him.
"What is going on?!"
Petrah and Lucien moved past her quickly, the former saying over her shoulder, "He is a valg! Luna scented him walking right through the busy markets. Where is Aelin?!"
Y/n took large strides to catch up to them, speaking as they quickly walked towards the palace, "I don't know! Lets take him to the torture room. They have one here, right?!"
Petrah firmly nodded her head as they both followed Lucien. Once inside the halls, they found Rowan, who was making his way up the stairs, and took the captive towards the chambers below.
Fifteen minutes later, Lorcan, Manon and Fenrys joined them as they all watched the valg infested person struggle and scream against his chains, both visible and invisible, thanks to Rowan's powers.
Petrah was the first one to speak, her eyes assesing the captive before them, "He won't break unless we make him. The witch back in our kingdom hasn't broken yet either, despite all the torture we have put her through."
Manon interfered, "That is a willing ally to them, this person has been infested by one of them against his will."
Petrah nodded her head at her queen, "Exactly, so it will be easier to get him to talk."
Fenrys shook his head, his arms crossed, "We have to get Yrene."
Rowan looked at his friend, "And drain her even more? She is already using too much of her powers, Chaol is in a wheelchair. Besides, once she gets the valg out of these people, they seem to forget everything. We need him just like this to get him to talk."
"I won't talk! I won't talk! I won't-"
"Oh, you will, and you will tell us every single little thing, you little demon." Rowan's voice was unrecognizable as he stood right in front of the man and looked down at him.
The poor man was laughing like a maniac now, he laughed and laughed until his eyes landed on her and he stopped. He stared and stared before his mouth tilted downwards and his light brown eyes somehow became black. Now, he was shouting at her, "You whore! We are coming for you! We are coming for you and we will end you just like we ended your mudslug of a father!"
Y/n's anger began rising, causing her to clench her fists in order to stop her iron claws from appearing. She took slow steps towards the man, recognizing that it was the valg inside him talking this way and not him.
"Listen to me and listen well, you parasite. I know what you did to my father and mother, what you did to my family. Do not think for one minute that I will forget it. No, I will find you all and once I do, none of you will be able to escape me. I will spend the rest of my immortal years going from world to world in order to completely cut your roots if I need to. You have said it yourself, I am the chosen one, the one who carries my mother's gifts inside me. So it's time I use these gifts and destroy you once and for all."
There was complete silence in the room, all eyes on her as the man shouted back, "You won't find us! We are hidden well!"
Well, it's time to use some psychological mind tricks then.
Y/n smirked as she leaned down, coming face to face with him, "Oh, I know where you are. In fact, I have completely sketched out a map of your whole location, both inside and outside."
The man's eyes widened, "No.....no the prince....he survived! It was him!"
Time to lead him on to get answers without making it obvious.
"Yes, the prince who survived was spotted in the city. He thinks he has good cover but he is wrong, oh he is so wrong."
The valg seemed to believe her as he started saying, "He did it! He did it! Do not bring the healer!"
"What did he do?"
"After the war was over, he....he survived! he survived Erawan and found us, other survivors as well! He is gathering all of us now, we will attack once we are large enough in numbers!"
"How did he survive? Aren't you all connected to Erawan? And where are you all located in?" Lorcan's voice came from behind her.
The valg however, didn't seem to be listening to him, violently shaking his head, shouting, "He survived! He is coming! You will die!"
And before any of them could react, the man went limp. Y/n quickly checked his neck, hoping to feel a heartbeat but, nothing. He was dead.
Y/n sighed as Manon said, "Well, atleast now we know that not all the valgs died."
Fenrys was the first one to leave, turning abruptly and exiting without a word to anyone, and without looking at her.
Rowan turned towards the door, "I will need to inform Aelin about this, Lorcan, inform the others."
Lorcan nodded as he followed the prince while Manon patted y/n on the shoulder, whispering a 'good job' and quickly left the room with Petrah who turned just once to look over her shoulder not at y/n or the dead man in the center of the room, but at Lucien who was just staring at his lifeless body.
Once they were gone, y/n put her hand on his shoulder and turned him towards her, "Lu, are you well?"
He looked at her, his mechanical eye just as wide as his other eye. "Y/n, let's....let's leave."
She nodded, silently leading the way out of the room.
Once they were out in the hall, she tried to ease the tension by nudging him with her shoulder, her tone turning playful as y/n gave him a smirk "So, what was that about?"
Lucien's brows furrowed as he turned to look at her while they kept walking, "What's what about?"
"You riding a wyvern with Petrah."
Lucien chuckled, "It's nothing, I was shocked when I saw that thing and then Petrah asked me if I wanted to join her for a ride and I....I got curious, I mean, we will leave this place at some point and Prythian doesn't have such adorable beasts so when am I ever gonna ride something like that again?"
Right, they will leave at some point.
She gave him a small smile, "Yeah....how- how is everything between you and Elain?"
Lucien's eyes dimmed as his smile turned serious "Just like how it was before you left. She still hasn't accepted me."
"Are you serious?! It's already been what? three years? I mean, if she doesn't want to have a mate, if she wants to reject the bond, then she has to say so. But for her to just keep on ignoring you without any words is pissing me off. Once we get back, I will have a word with her before I leave-"
"Alright, alright stop there for a moment" Lucien held both of his hands up to her as they both halted.
"Two things. First, don't tell her anything because I have dealt with her. I rejected our bond, and guess what? I was expecting some kind of pain or I don't know...an uncomfortable feel in my chest because after all, it's a bond that's breaking but....nothing. I felt absolutely nothing for rejecting her."
Y/n's eyes widened, "So, do you think my theory is right? That The Cauldron made a mistake when it mated you to her? That it was a momentary slip up? That there was no bond to begin with?"
Lucien shrugged, "Maybe. I don't really care but I do feel much more freer than I did when I felt like I had to put effort into making her like me."
When y/n opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand, silencing her, "Now, second thing. What in The Mother's name do you mean by saying 'before I leave'? What happened?"
Yn sighed and turned to walk, Lucien quickly catching up with her, "Lu, Azriel has a mate."
Lucien stopped again, his eyebrows hit his hairline, "What?! Excuse me?! Please tell me it's you."
Y/n chuckled but kept walking, "Do you remember Gwyn? Turns out they were together for the past two years and the worst part is that.....that everyone in the inner circle knew except for me. They knew, Lu! They all knew and none of them thought of telling me! Instead they preferred to watch me suffer!"
Lucien grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her to look at him, "Y/n, but....but you seemed so well whenever I would come? Like, like you would be so happy and cheerful and your outgoing self? I never....I never even noticed. Oh Cauldron boil me-"
Y/n gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "Lu, please don't blame yourself. You are the only one who ever saw me for me. You would only stay there for a week, sometimes even less and you would be so stressed with your whole thing with Elain and whatever new information you would bring about Koschei and whatever else so obviously I wouldn't show it to you. But they.....they were there all the time. Mor had walked hundreds of times on me having a panick attack and did nothing. So I obviously do not plan on staying there anymore."
Lucien closed his eyes as his head tilted downwards, "I am so sorry, y/n. Once we are back, you know you will always have a place with me, Jurian and Vassa. If you want."
Y/n gave him a small but genuine smile as they slowly resumed their walking, "I know, Lu. And I am beyond grateful."
It was starting again. His nightmares were on him again. They stopped for one night and one night only. The night where y/n slept with him, the night that she was in his arms.
But now, now they were back. His nightmares would usually differ, never repeating the same memory twice, but instead showing another trauma each night.
Tonight, it was one of his memories with Maeve. It was the night she raped him countless times before ordering him to sleep naked right outside her door. It was a punishment for disobeying her orders. Because he healed Connall when he got injured severely while getting beaten up by one of her obedient little followers. Because Connall had disobeyed her too and done something. Something he refused to tell Fenrys. She wanted him to bleed and be on the verge of death as punishment. But, how could Fenrys just sit by and watch his own brother wither away?
She raped him. She put her disgusting hands on him knowing how much he hated it and got her way with him. He hated himself after that. But, what's the point now? Connall is dead anyway. You failed him, Fenrys. You failed your own brother. You are nothing-
"Fen, are you well?"
Her angelic voice soothed his growing demons, calmed his growing nightmares.
Fenrys turned his head to see y/n standing right beside his sitting form, in front of the large window they have in the hall between their rooms. She was wearing silk pants and a long sleeve, loose shirt. Both in white. Her adorable face held a mixture of concern and curiosity as she looked down on him.
And that nickname she gave him. That fucking nickname that only she is allowed to call him. No one else.
He sighed and turned his head back towards the large window, looking at the moonless night in front of him, "No, y/n. I am not well."
He felt her sit beside him and turn her head to look at his side profile. Her soft, soothing voice reached his ears even better when she was this up and close to him, "Do you....do you want to talk about it?"
For some reason, he did. For some reason, his chest tightened and he felt this need to, for the first time, open up and talk about his own troubles to someone.
So, with a small nod, he began. He told her of his childhood with Connall, of how they never knew their parents, of how they always only ever had each other. He talked about his blood oath to Maeve, he told her just a few of the tortures she put him and his brother through. Just a few of the things she made him do to innocents. The guilt, the shame that was eating away at him. The war and what happened during it. Connall's death. And lastly, the fact that it has been three years and he still can't move on, can't forget.
Once he was done, he turned his face to look at her, seeing her eyes shining with unshed tears. "So, y/n. You now saw the real me. My ugly truth that I hide inside me. It's best if you just run away now."
She slowly shook her head and put a gentle palm against his cheek.
Then, she said the sentence that shook his world.
"Don't do that. I am not scared of any part of you, Fen. How can I when I am just as scarred as you are? How can I, when I know the pain of such things? You showed me a raw part of yours, and for that, I am so grateful. I will cherish it forever. I care for all of you, both your beautiful and not so beautiful parts."
Fenrys had never felt this vulnerable yet safe in his life. The truth in her words as she looked at him with nothing but pure care and sympathy made him feel not weak or pitied but....safe, understood. He wanted to ask her about her story but from the look in her eyes, she wouldn't tell. He knew she wouldn't. This was supposed to be about him.
That care increased his heart rate even further. Caused him to feel things he never did.
He may regret this tomorrow, may go back to blaming himself again, but, he couldn't care any less right now.
Slowly, just an inch, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "Ask me to kiss you again."
Her eyes widened slightly as her plush lips parted.
But she did. She whispered, "Kiss me, Fenrys."
And with that, he closed his eyes and kissed her. He smashed their lips together as her arms went to his hair, holding him close, as she leaned back on the ground, bringing him with her, placing him completely between her parted legs.
He kissed her with a mixture of emotions. He kissed her hard but also soft, gently but also firmly, quickly but also slowly, messily but also lovingly. She kissed him back with the same amount of ferocity.
Then, his kisses moved to her jaw and then her neck. He kissed her slowly over where her injury once was and then, as he looked back her, for permission to take off her shirt, she slowly shook her head, no.
It was complete and utter darkness here anyway. The stars barely illuminated anything. But, she still didn't want him to take off her shirt. He would respect that either way. He kissed her over her clothing as he moved down, over her stomach and stopped just above her pants, once again looking back at her.
She hesitated again. Closing her eyes and then opening them again to look towards the window. Then, as if she understood that he can't see her body properly, nodded at him slowly.
There was definetly something. Something she wasn't telling him. But, it's alright. He would ask her at some point and hope that she would share it with him.
Fenrys slowly took ahold of the top of her pants and pulled them down. He pulled them down and off completely, before lying on his stomach and gently touching her ankles, her legs and then, her thighs.
He felt a couple of bumps along her skin but assumed they were probably injuries she got during fights or during the war. After all, what kind of a warrior doesn't have scars or wounds?
Her skin was still so soft though. So soft and creamy, he just wanted to keep touching her. He brought his face closer to her inner thighs, kissing them gently as he heard her take in a sharp breath. Her arousal, her sweet and perfect arousal, was hitting his nose as he came closer towards her core. Only a thin piece of fabric was stopping him now.
Fenrys once again lifted his head towards her, so that she could see him in the dark looking at her, questioning her, making sure.
He saw her give a slight nod of her head and that was all that he needed.
Fenrys brought his face back to her core as his hunger for her began taking over. As his thirst for her began taking over. He gave her a nice, long and torturously slow lick over her panties, causing a melodic moan to escape her.
Gods, she was perfect. Fenrys felt his own cock throbbing in his loose pants, but that could wait.
She whispered, "Please...."
Without waiting any longer or making this torturous for either of them, Fenrys quickly ripped apart her panties, causing a gasp to come out of her and then.....dear Gods.......her perfect, dripping cunt was right in front of him. Her arousal fully hitting his nose, taking over all of his sense, leaving only one thing behind: Greed. Greed to devpur her whole and leave nothing for anyone else. Greed to mark her up completely.
With a growl, he lifted a finger and gently touched her, smearing her arousal all over her lips. Y/n lifted her hips involuntarily, another string of 'please' falling off her kissable lips.
Fenrys let out an involuntary moan, "You are so perfect, princess."
And that was it, that was all he said before diving in. That was all he said before he began feasting on her like a madman. He ate her out as if he was dying and she was his only cure, like she was the only meal left in this world and he was a starving male.
He ate her out like she was fucking made for him.
With each lick, with each bite, his hunger for her only grew stronger, insatiable. Her moans and gasps too, grew louder, so much so that he had to snake a hand up, past her breasts and her neck, to cover her mouth.
His own throbbing, hard cock was killing him too. So, while he was feasting on his beautiful witch, Fenrys started humping the ground, searching for some relief too. This caused him to moan right into her pussy, making her back stretch out even more, her hands coming to grab and mess up his hair as she bit his hand.
Fenrys added his fingers, stimulating her with both his tounge and fingers and as he felt her warm walls begin to clench uncontrollably around him, he knew she was close. He was getting close too and that was a shock to him. Fenrys had never been on the verge of cumming this quick before. No one had ever made him this pent up and feral that he reached his edge this quick.
She was the first. His annoying, ferocious, angry little witchling was the first to ever make him cum this fast.
And all it took were a few more licks, bites, thrusts and she was gone. Y/n moaned deep and hard as she came all over his tounge and lower face. And he licked it all up. Fenrys drank every single drop of her sweet nectar, savouring its addicting taste. And as if on cue, he himself came inside his pants while he was still licking her up.
And through it all, his eyes never left hers. Even if it was dark, even if they couldn't clearly see one another, Fenrys kept his eyes on her face, knowing that she felt his eyes on her too.
Once he was finished, he sat up, gently putting her pants back on and pocketing her ripped underwear for....later.
He saw y/n's frame slowly sit up as well as he came closer to her, gently helping her up to her feet before asking, "I hope I didn't hurt you."
He felt her smile and cursed the darkness for keeping that beautiful view away from his eyes. She came closer and put her hands behind his neck, her breasts pressing to his naked chest, causing him to feel her nipples right against him. He barely held back a groan.
She got on her toes as Fenrys held her waist to keep her stable while she gently kissed him on the cheek and whispered, her voice hoarse and so damn sexy, "I had never cum so hard before, Fen. It was amazing. Thank you."
Fuck. He was absolutely doomed.
When she tried to move away, his arms closed completely around her, pressing her to him as his one arm lifted, his hand going to hold her behind her neck as he smashed their lips together once more.
He let her taste herself on his tounge as he kissed her with so much pent up lust and hunger, for her. Only and only for her.
Once he pulled back, he felt her heavy breaths as she whispered "Fenrys-"
"With every breath I take, Y/n," he whispered fervently, his voice a steady promise that caused her body to tremble slightly, "I'll stand by your side, shielding your light from any darkness that dares to fucking approach. You will ignite the world, and I will ensure it never dims. I swear it."
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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago
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Throne of glass characters x reader, sending them lingerie pics
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summary: you send them pics of your new lingerie
warnings: suggestiveness, mdni
amara’s note: this is my first throne of glass related post, i’m gonna start making more I hope
for my wife: @rowaelinsdaughter 💗
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azsazz · 6 months ago
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Brains and Bravado
Kinktober Day 12: Dorian x Reader [Hate-Fucking]
Summary: Anon Req: For kinktober I would like to see either Rowan or Dorian! Maybe reader doesn’t get along with him but they have hate sex a lot and secretly like each other, however, they’re too stubborn (their pride) to admit it. Thank you for writing so many amazing fics for us, I’m excited for kinktober!👻
Based off of the previous ask of Dark Academia!Dorian
Warnings: Smut
Word Count: 3,944
Notes: You'll know the part I yearn for when you read it 😏 the rest is sort of meh
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You dislike Dorian Havilliard very much.
It doesn’t matter that he’s the son to the king or that his best friend is a lord-turned-captain-of-the-royal-guard. Here, he’s just Dorian, an annoying pain-in-the-ass know-it-all that you’ve sworn to demolish with your good grades.
Unfortunately, Dorian is as smart with his head as he is with that tongue.
It’s said tongue of his that always gets him out of trouble. The professors love him, eat up any excuse to fall into his good graces, whether it’s passing him with flying colors or allowing him extra special office hours whenever he should come calling. 
It’s not only the teachers who fall for the boy who makes the ugly, pristinely-pressed uniform look way too good. Everyone laughs at his jokes, flounders over his words even when they have no meaning at all. Girls and boys alike fall to his feet at the charming ways he speaks to them, looks at them, flirtatious to the bone.
You aren’t like that. Intelligent, yes, but your lips don’t curve around your words like Dorian’s do. They are his long-time lover, held near and dear and are cared for. He speaks like an age-old poem, like he’d been an esteemed author in a past life, the way they flow so easily for him. 
No, you can write beautiful sentences, transform letters into works of art, ones that bring tears to the eyes of the beholder, but it’s speaking eloquently that always trips you up. You lack the emotion, the confidence, to really make your words ring true.
The laughter and easiness of the hall seems to dwindle into a silence that only Dorian himself can evoke, and you turn from gathering the textbooks you’ll need for the afternoon to watch. You don’t want to, but for some reason you’re as drawn to him as the rest of the crowd is.
Dorian’s sapphire eyes stir something in your chest, even more so when they flicker down your body and that little smirk appears, the one he knows pisses you off to no end. Your stare turns into a molten glare at that look, and the feeling coursing through your veins must be a hot hatred for the boy striding down the damned halls like he owns the place.
Chaol trails Dorian down the hall like an esteemed purebred, waiting for a treat. He had the glare of a bloodhound too, but it doesn’t do much to ward off the flirtatious glares the prince is receiving. There hasn’t been a single time all year that you’ve seen them apart. They’re even in all of the same classes for Mother’s sake.
That look makes you want to squirm, to claw his eyes out. What a privilege it must be, to be the king’s son, you think, slamming your locker shut with a loud clang and spinning on your heel, stalking down the hall to your next class.
One of the ones that Dorian’s in.
Thankfully, he stops to ogle some girls who’ve hiked their uniform skirts up to their eyes at the appearance of the prince. Chaol, ever the mindful guard, stops with them.
You can feel those gemstone eyes following you down the hall. Of course, everything that Dorian sees in you is only surface level. He doesn’t know your background or the fact that you’d been kept at school over the summer because your parents couldn’t afford for you to come home, all while he was living it up in the lavish palace he calls home.
He doesn’t know that late at night you sneak out of your rooms and into the library. There’s a hidden door in there, tucked away within the vast stacks of a history so ancient, that it makes you shudder to even glance at. You haven’t found the courage to step foot down that particular aisle of books because the raw power in the air makes the hair on your arms stand tall. You had made it your mission to muster the confidence to see what’s behind that door before you graduate, and plan on spending any of your free time searching for other hidden passageways within this centuries old school.
Whilst lost in the thoughts of the door in the library, you almost miss out on the entire lecture. Your professor doesn’t seem to notice because Dorian is answering all the questions she asks, and she’s wooed by his boring responses that even the dunces of the class could explain with flying colors.
By the time you’re released from class, you’ve decided to explore more of the library for hidden doors or books that give off a harrowing aura, when you slam into a wall. Not a wall, but the chest of your rival, Dorian Havilliard.
“Where are you going?” He asks, blocking you from stepping out into the hall.
You haven’t realized that the class had cleared out so quickly, and you shuffle a step backwards, trying to ignore the heat of his body and the way it had felt pressed against yours for a fleeting moment. In a burst of betrayal, that warmth converges between your thighs, and your muscles jump as you try to clench them together without his notice.
“To the library.” You don’t know why you answer, maybe because you’re thrown off by his sudden presence and lack thereof his best friend. Where is Chaol, you wonder, swallowing harshly when Dorian leans against his arm in the doorframe. He’s tall, muscular, and the shape he’s in draws your gaze down his perfect frame.
Something in those sapphire eyes flash, his mouth flattening from his smirk. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am,” you argue. Who is he to tell you what you can and can’t do in your own free time? “I want to get started on the paper Professor Erawan assigned us,” you lie, thankfully remembering that tidbit from class while your mind strayed.
“Then I’ll come with you.” It’s not a suggestion.
You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly want from you when there are plenty of people willing to give him the attention he’s craving. Dorian straightens and waves you out of the room with a flourish of his hand.
You stare for a long moment, brows furrowed as you try to figure him out. You’re not friends, and you don’t want to be. All you really want is to beat him at his game of wits, be the first in class, and solve the mystery of what’s behind the dark door in the library. None of which needs any involvement from him.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, giving him a wide berth as you step around him into the hall. He immediately steps into line with you, and you try to ignore the way that he’s slowing his gait to stride alongside you. “You’re only coming to flirt with the librarian.”
Dorian’s grin is wolfish, “Why would I flirt with the librarian, when you’re right next to me?”
You trip over your feet at his words. Dorian catches you with a hand around your arm, steadying you. His touch is hot on your skin, and the look in his eyes is hot.
Your heart races in your chest.
Of course, Dorian has an ethereal beauty to him that anyone would consider themselves lucky to be with, but the fact that he’s flirting with you of all people, when all you’ve done all year is argue and bicker like an old married couple confuses you almost as much as the idea of the hidden door in the library.
“I don’t know why you’d flirt with me at all, actually,” you reply when you can finally find your voice. You’re being snippy, but you want the irritatingly handsome boy beside you to go away. He can find a place to stuff his cock elsewhere—you’re nowhere near as easy as the rest of the students in this school. “We don’t like each other.”
“Awe,” Dorian croons. When you glance over at him, he’s wearing a taunting smile, one that fills you with as much warmth as a cup of tea. “Who said I didn’t like you?”
Turning down the corridor to the library, it’s surely unlikely that Dorian will leave your side. You make a show of glancing around as if you’re looking for something, ignoring the way that your heart stammers in your chest at the mention that there’s a possibility he might actually enjoy your presence.
“Where is your little lap dog?”
Dorian barks out a startling laugh. He looks shocked himself, placing a hand to his chest, his cheeks pinkening as his chuckle echoes through the halls. It being the weekend, students and professors alike have fled the school buildings, more than ready to start the fun of the weekend.
You’re pretty sure that you and Dorian are the only ones left in the school.
“Chaol is on errand,” he tells you, sapphire eyes sparkling with interest. “Would you rather have him join?”
He says it like it’s a proposition, like you’d be pressed tightly between both of their bodies, like you’re not walking in through the doors into the expansive library that has more secrets than books.
You shoot Dorian a sidelong glance, your brows furrowed in confusion. He’s acting nothing like the Dorian you’re used to. Well, sure, he’s still the cocky prince you know, but the flirting is new. He’s staring ahead, like what he’s said hasn’t just thrown you completely off axis.
“Here looks good,” you mutter, sliding your books onto one of the large wooden tables lining the walls. Anything to fill the silence. It’s eerie in a building like this, stacks upon stacks of books filled with puzzles you’ve yet to piece together.
“You’re actually studying?” Dorian sounds affronted, like he can’t believe that studying is something done in a library at all. Like it’s some sort of secret brothel or a place for his conquests.
You wouldn’t put it past him.
“I told you I was going to study,” you bite, “What did you think I was going to do?”
You regret the words almost as quickly as they leave your lips.
“I thought you invited me so that you could sneak your hands down my trousers. Wear my tie around your neck while I take you over the table, perhaps?”
“I didn’t invite you at all,” you fight, but your voice is as weak as the knees you’re pressing tightly together, trying to ignore the sudden interest your cunt has in his words.
You gasp when you’re suddenly turned around, Dorian pressing in close. He’s staring down at you like you’re his favorite treat, sapphire eyes dark with interest, want, and a tinge of…hate? Annoyance, maybe, because you’re putting up much more of a fight than he’s used to.
His cock twitches at that.
“Do you want me to leave?” He asks, and the tenor of his voice rumbles deliciously against your chest. His scent is intoxicating, and you’re sure that his calloused fingers would feel just as good pressed against your skin as they are pinning your hips to the edge of the table.
Your brain must be on the fritz. Maybe you’ve stepped through that scary, looming, ancient door into another world because this cannot be happening. This isn’t Dorian.
“Why me?” you voice is quiet, a minute tremble to it that makes Dorian’s lashes flutter. He shifts on his feet, and you bite back the groan that crawls up your throat at the feeling of his hardening cock in his pants against your front. “Why now?”
He leans down to whisper in your ear, his long fingers tucking your hair tenderly behind your ear. The motion has your thighs clenching. His breath is a warm caress as he says, “Because I love it when you fight me. And I’ve had enough of keeping myself at bay. Hate me, if you must, but please let me fuck you.”
 “Yes,” you sigh, and the word is barely out of your mouth before Dorian’s lips are against yours, hot and unyielding, ravaging you completely like a predator does it prey.
His fingers clutch at your clothes, curling into the fabric in a feral sort of need that has you gasping, has your cunt weeping and lightning zipping through your veins. You chase the feeling, rolling your hips against Dorian’s.
You don’t know what’s come over you. The taste of his lips is exquisite and much sweeter than the vitriol the both of you are usually spitting at each other. His scent invades your senses—ice, ocean, magic, and musk. It consumes you as much as his presence is right now, overwhelmed by not just the primal need for you in his life but because of the strange events that have led you from loathing the boy lying you back onto the wooden table.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants when you arch into his body. His breath is hot, mingling with your own as you gasp for air. Dorian’s cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, matching the color of his swollen lips that he darts his tongue across, chasing your taste. His sapphire eyes are all pupil, dark and consuming and hungry for more. “Spread those pretty legs for me.”
You follow his instruction like a person cursed, thighs spreading wide for Dorian as he stands to his full height. His eyes burn a thousand fires down your body as he takes his time drinking you in, the gentle caress of his hands following the same torturous path has shivers awakening across every inch of your body.
“Dorian,” you plead, but he’s too engrossed with taking his time. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants, flicking the button open with ease and guiding them down your legs.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he admits, utterly distracted by the sight of your creamy thighs on display for him. He bites back the smirk that’s threatening to appear on his lips when you impatiently start kicking your pants down your legs with a frustrated and desperate keen. It makes his cock twitch, a bead of precum leak from the tip into the fabric of his underwear.
At the sight of your soaked panties calling to him like a siren, Dorian has to press his palm firmly against his aching cock, trying to keep himself from orgasming right now.
“How long?” you ask. Your fingers curl into the wood of the table because you need something to hold onto, and Dorian’s just out of reach. Your cheeks heat with arousal as those sapphire eyes zero in on your nipples where they’re tight and straining against your shirt. You don’t know why you feel the sudden urge to know how long he’s been thinking of you like this, why now is the time he’s finally decided to make his move, but you need to know his answer. “How long have you wanted me lying out for you like this, Dorian?”
His name sounds like heaven on your tongue, and he groans, releasing himself, his resolve snapping as he bends to take your mouth again.
You moan loudly, languidly. Dorian’s tongue brushes against yours and the feeling zips to your cunt as you imagine the feeling of his mouth sucking your clit, his tongue plunging inside of your dripping cunt like a starved male.
He hastily shoves up the fabric of your shirt, sneaking beneath the material of your bra to palm your breasts. You bury your fingers deeply into his hair, tugging on it when he tries to part from you. You didn’t know how desperately you’ve needed this—needed him—but now that his admission is out in the open and has you rethinking your dislike for the prince, you don’t want him to part from you.
“Since the first day we met,” Dorian breathes against your mouth. Your body goes slack with shock at the thought, fingers falling from his locks. Dorian doesn’t seem to notice, taking advantage of finally being free from you to mouth his way down your throat, burying his head beneath your shirt for a taste of your flesh.
You’d met Dorian years ago, on the first day of your time at school here. He was just as popular then as he is now, and just as cheeky, too. All you can recall from that day is the way how all of the other students were falling over their feet for a chance to befriend the prince. You’d wanted nothing to do with that, even when he’d stopped at your locker and tried to use his charm to get you to switch with him.
He had made a joke in poor taste, one that annoyed you enough to rebuttal with words not polite for someone of your status to say to a member of royalty, ever.
That was when you started to dislike Dorian Havilliard.
That sentiment is beginning to change, especially when he rolls one of your nipples gently between his teeth.
You cry out in pleasure, trying to grind your hips against his as you writhe beneath him on the table. Your arch, pressing your breasts into his mouth and he hums encouragingly, even more so when he hears the sound you make in response.
Dorian brushes his knuckles across your clothed cunt, reveling in how responsive you are for him when he’s barely done a thing. After this, he hopes that you won’t go back to hating him because he doesn’t think he can bear it, now that he has the taste of your engraved on his tongue.
He abandons post between your breasts, sliding his way down your body, kissing, licking, teasing every inch of skin that he can before he arrives at his desired destination. He settles himself between your legs, jerking your closer to him, your legs over his shoulders and ass leaning precariously on the edge of the table.
“Sweetheart?” he questions, and it takes effort for you to lift your head to look at him. Your body is burning with need, thighs trembling with anticipation. Your gaze is cloudy with lust and it takes you a few blinks to dispel it, giving Dorian your attention.
You scowl at the smirk gracing his lips. “What?”
“Do you still dislike me?”
Your heart thunders in your chest as you watch Dorian pull your panties to the side with long fingers that you know could hit every neglected spot inside of you. The cool air from the library breezes across your wetness along with the heat of his breath and it sends your mind into a dizziness of desire that forces you to take a moment to catch your breath.
“If I say yes?” you ask, biting your lip. Will he stop? Pretend that this was all some sort of game? A bet that he and Chaol had going on? Will he pop out from between bookshelves to laugh?
Before your mind can grasp onto one of those thoughts and overthink it, Dorian says with a twinkle to his sapphire eyes, “I’d say that you’re not going to after this.”
And then the prince feasts.
You fall back to the table with a cry of satisfaction. The thud of your head smacking the wood echoes throughout the library but you hardly feel a thing as Dorian licks a fat stripe up your clit. He doesn’t hesitate to bury himself in your cunt, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. Your thighs are already threatening to clamp shut around his head but his strong hold keeps them splayed wide as he devours you.
“Princeling,” you whine when you feel the tidal wave of orgasm building. You don’t know where the nickname comes from, somewhere buried as deeply inside of you as Dorain’s tongue is, but it has him growling against your cunt, trapping your clit between his teeth and flicking his tongue across it faster.
There’s nowhere for you to go, nowhere to squirm with the feeling that crashes over you because Dorian’s strength is pinning you to the table. Your fingers find his scalp, biting in, and Dorian welcomes the feeling, using that wicked tongue on you even when the wave crashes and you’re trying to shove him weakly away from your aching clit.
The reprieve of Dorian pulling away doesn’t last long. He straightens to his full height, keeping your legs hooked over his shoulders. It causes your body to slide even closer to him, your wet cunt butting right up against his cock that’s straining so hard in his pants that it’s painful.
“You’ll never call me anything else. Promise me,” he says, and with that harsh look in his eyes and the way that his lips glisten with your orgasm, you could never say no.
Dorian unsheathes himself, unbuttoning his trousers and pulling them down just enough that his cock springs free from its confines. He takes himself in hand, eyes wild with desire as he slides himself through your slickness.
Your breath is choked when you respond, “I promise.”
It’s pressed from your lungs completely with each inch his cock plunges into you. Your nails scrape against the wood of the table, the finishing catching beneath your nails. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the feeling of him stretching you wide, Dorian’s low groan reflecting the one that your body is desperate to release but is unable to.
His curse is sinful when his hips finally meet yours. He’s staring down at you like you’re everything to him. Like you’re his queen.
“Dorian,” you gasp.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Move.”
Move he does. Dorian’s hands meet your hips and your fingers clamp down on his forearms as he thrusts his hips. He loves the marks you’re leaving on his skin, the way you’re branding him with your hot, wet cunt wrapped tightly around him. There’s a sheen to his eyes that shifts something in your soul. You can feel it splintering out of your chest, winding through your veins and into Dorian’s where you’re connected.
He seems to feel it too, with the way that he leans over you again to capture your mouth against his.
“You will be my ending,” Dorian breathes when he’s able to pull himself away from you. He doesn’t go far, his lips brushing yours with his confession. “I would give you my last breath if it meant keeping you alive, but I’m selfish enough to admit that I’d waste it because I cannot imagine a plane of existence where I am without you.”
“Dorian!” You shudder with his words, hiss because how can one male be so good with words? So good with his fingers, his tongue, his cock? The way that he’s hitting that spot again and again and again is driving you over the edge into an oblivion that he follows you into because he meant what he just said.
You revel in the weight of his body collapsing against yours while he paints the walls of your cunt with his cum. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him tucked deeply inside of you. Your hearts beat loudly against each other, a heady drum of confessions and more.
You peck Dorian once, twice when your mind clears, trying to pull him from the stupor your cunt has put him in. He’s never felt like this before, never had sex this good. Even when you’re spewing fire at him, he’s wanted this, wanted you from the moment he set those sapphire eyes on you.
And now he has you.
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b00kdiary · 1 year ago
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Across the Pages: SJM MEN + PLUS SIZE OC MASTERLIST
This is a multiple part series with Sarah J. Maas male characters and a plus size female reader.
The series will take place in the ACOTAR, TOG, or CC worlds and be 18+ with sexual themes, mature language and will have a plus size fmc (Because we thick girls deserve the love too!) I am taking requests!
Crescent City
Ithan Holstrom- Euphoria
Ruhn Danaan + Tristan Flynn- Better Than Any Fantasy
Acotar
Rhysand + Cassian + Azriel- Wildest Dreams Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V
Rhysand + Cassian + Azriel - Relax
Cassian - Hurt me
Cassian- Mirror, Mirror
Rhysand- Stay With Me, Part II, Part III
Azriel- Cauldron Blessed
Cassian + Azriel- Take it Part I, Part II
Azriel- Unworthy
Rhysand- Yours
Cassian- Mine
Eris - Fire Night
Rhysand + Cassian + Azriel - Cautious, Part II
Throne of Glass [coming soon]
TAKING REQUESTS FOR ALL SJM MEN AND MORE COMING SOON!
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shadowdaddies · 10 months ago
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Phantom Touch
Dorian x Reader smut
A/N: just thinking about waking up with Dorian. that's it
warnings: smut below the cut, pwp, use of phantom hands, light bondage, fingering, p in v sex, slight praise/deg
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A warm hand slid down the curve of your waist, the pleasant feeling stirring you from your sleep. Soft morning light already shone through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window, the covers warm beneath you from Dorian’s body so close to yours.
“Good morning,” you hummed, a feline grin on your lips as his hand moved lower, kneading your ass. A familiar coolness tilted your head back, phantom hand angling you just how Dorian wanted. Tongue flicked out against your neck, lips sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear, trailing lower in slow, teasing movements. 
Dorian’s hand slid under your nightgown, gripping your backside firmly before fingers slipped between your legs. A whimper escaped you, breathy moans of your husband’s name as he slid along your folds. 
A wild groan escaped him at the feeling of your slick dripping down your thighs. “Already so wet for me, angel?” he teased, nipping at your ear as his hand slid forward, fingers lightly brushing your clit. You jerked in his hold, back arching as a pathetic mewl escaped you.
“Please, please more,” you begged, hips grinding against his fingers, desperate for more friction. A dark chuckle sounded in your ear as his digits curled inside of you, hitting your walls at a perfect angle. You could barely give warning before your orgasm hit, juices soaking Dorian’s fingers as he groaned from behind.
“Good, good girl,” he murmured, hand drawing back as he sucked your slick from his fingers, lewd noises filling the air. 
“Please, more,” you begged, ass arching against Dorian’s hard cock. “I need you, now,” breathless pleas escaped your lips as you grew increasingly desperate.
Dorian refused to be drawn into your pathetic show, his hands drawing out of you as leisurely as ever, wet slick coating your sides as he toyed with your stomach, nipples, throat.
“How do you need me?” he murmured, unable to fight the wicked grin as he pulled your back to his chest. Struggling for an answer, your brain fought the lustful haze to answer him.
“I- um, I need your cock, please,” you whimpered, flipping to your back. Sapphire eyes shone blue as your legs spread wide for him, granting easy access.
“Such a good little slut for me,” he murmured, eyes glazed as he focused on your pussy, dragging his cock along your folds. You mewled at the teasing sensation, his tip rubbing your sensitive bud, spreading your slick. 
Writhing against his hold, you moaned out, “Dorian, please I-“ 
The cool caress of another phantom hand cut you off, fingers massaging your tongue, your muffled pleas growing as his length pushed inside of you. Head leaned back against Dorian’s shoulder, you sucked on the phantom fingers as his hips lazily rolled against yours.
“Good girl,” he murmured, lips spreading in a smirk against your neck. The way he nipped and licked at your exposed skin was nothing short of predatory, making your heart pound as his cock finally found your entrance, tip barely pushing inside of you.
Eyes rolled back as a pathetic mewl left your lips, drool slipping out around phantom fingers. With a dark chuckle, Dorian thrust into you in one smooth movement, his length stretching your walls in a delicious combination of pain and pleasure. 
Slowly sliding out of you, Dorian moved his invisible touch from your lips, freeing your moans to echo through the room. An arm gripped your waist, holding you firm as Dorian snapped his hips back into you at the same time a slick finger flicked your clit.
Jaw fell open in a silent moan as you vaguely registered the phantom hand that had moved from your mouth to your clit, rubbing tight circles as Dorian grabbed your leg, spreading you open as he pounded into you from behind.
Cool breezes and teasing hands were everywhere - rubbing your clit, twisting your nipples, tugging your hair - as Dorian whispered filthy praises in your ear. Your high crashed over you quickly, body shaking from the intense pleasure.
Dorian didn’t let up, instead flipping you on your back as he continued fucking you into the mattress. The familiar feel of those cool hands brushed your wrists, guiding them above your head. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Dorian filled you impossibly deep, hitting the perfect spot with thrust after thrust.
Gasping for air, you found Dorian’s sapphire gaze through blurred vision, brow furrowing as you attempted to whimper out the warning that you were close to your orgasm once again. 
“I know, I’m close,” Dorian grunted, black waves of hair sticking to his forehead as his abs worked with each stroke. “Let go for me, love,” he gritted out, thumb finding your clit once more as the coil snapped.
Vision flashed white with the force of your orgasm, toes curling as you felt Dorian’s warm release fill you. Panting, he looked up at you with a satisfied smirk. “Feel alright, love?”
A raw giggle escaped you at his smugness, your husband knowing full-well just how alright you felt. Stretching your limbs, you yawned as you appraised the gorgeous male in front of you. 
“I think the only thing that could make this morning better is a bath with my love, and some breakfast,” you hummed, legs lifting to wrap around Dorian’s waist as you smirked up at him.
Dorian’s eyes darkened slightly at the appearance of you, flushed and exposed in the morning light beneath him. “I think that can be arranged,” he whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before he rose to prepare the bath.
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throneofsapphics · 3 months ago
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throne pet
poly!Manorian x f!Reader
summary: exhibitionsim with poly!manorian
warnings: reader is a sex worker, smut, light d/s dynamics, exhibitionism
word count: 1746
a/n: I hope you all enjoy! I loved writing this one
kinktober masterlist
​​Dorian Havilliard hired you for the night. 
You’d signed what felt like countless contracts, making sure to read each fine line and detail. Most of them involved not speaking of what happened throughout the ‘event.’ 
You could be trusted for your discretion, but the same couldn’t be said for the others and, you hated to say it, but your king hadn’t always made the best choices when it came to hiring. 
If you were being cocky, you’d say he could’ve consulted you, but it was uncomely to assume the King of Adarlan knew who you were. Knew who most of his subjects were. Although he certainly tried, parading through the city speaking with different business owners. 
However, nobody stopped by the business you worked at for a casual chat. Brothels generally weren’t made for talking. Word had it, his witch would be there as well, and if what you read in those papers a few weeks ago was true, you were to be playing with both of them. There was no reason to doubt the agreement you’d signed.
Either way, your name was on the list when you made your way to the castle gates, clothed in the garments he’d sent the night before, your own cloak covering them. You could hardly wear them out on the streets, not without causing some sort of massive scene. 
A chill snaked up your spine as you crossed the threshold to the castle, exhaling slowly and trying not to look too out of place. The instructions for your arrival, tucked inside the garment you currently wore, were rather vague. 
Meet inside the gates at quarter past seven, the guards will have your name. Someone will meet you there. 
-D.H. 
Thankfully, a servant found you immediately, greeted you with a smile before ushering you off towards a side entrance. 
You were given a room to ‘ready’ yourself however needed. The woman looked rather uncomfortable saying that, and told you’d be expected at eight o’clock sharp. 
As you spun slowly, you decided it was a rather beautiful room. Better than you expected, honestly. 
The three quarters of an hour passed quickly, and the same servant came to fetch you. You passed through unfamiliar halls, trying your best not to gawk at everything, but it was all so damn beautiful. It was hardly fair how quickly the woman was walking, barely giving you a chance to glance at some of the decorations hanging from the walls. 
-
Dorian caught a glimpse of you once, passing by your place of business. He knew, then, that not only did he want you, but Manon would as well as soon as she caught a glimpse. Well, to his best judgment he figured she would. 
Tonight, he was fulfilling a fantasy of hers, with your help. 
Some old habits died hard, or not at all, and he couldn’t resist throwing a party every once in a while – after the country had time to rebuild and settle, of course. He knew rumors spread around the city of them, but not a soul dared to confront him. He almost wished they would, just so he could see the reactions on their face when he told them it was the truth. 
He leaned back in his throne, fingers tapping on the arm, where Manon perched. She’d refused one of her own, preferring to share his. He understood it, they had limited time together. Part of the reason he wanted to give her this gift. 
The doors to the throne room opened, the servant ushered you inside before closing the doors gently behind you. Gracefully, although he saw the slight tremor in your fingers, you strode up the pathway, dropping into a low curtsey before both of them. 
A throne pet, just for the night. 
His bloodthirsty ironteeth witch leaned back and assessed you with a gaze too cool for golden eyes. He could feel her forming a judgment and he’d be lying if he said a bit of nerves didn’t spike through him with it. But Dorian knew her, he knew he’d chosen right with you. 
Manon’s shallow nod gave him an unexpected sense of relief. The show could go on. 
“If nobody has explained yet,” he knew they hadn’t, but part of him wanted to throw you off balance, “you’ll be playing the role of our throne pet for the night.” 
You frowned slightly. Maybe mentally running through the papers he’d had you read and sign? 
“We don't expect you to bark, meow, or wear a tail. I thought ‘pet’ would be a more pleasant word that ‘whore’ or ‘slut,’” Dorian clarified.
The vulgarity turned your cheeks beet red, but you nodded in understanding, a familiar hunger gleaming in your eyes. Maybe those were words you didn’t quite mind. 
-
Unable to resist, you ground back against Dorian as Manon approached. Even your human nose could scent her arousal. The witch didn’t notice, her eyes fixed firmly on you. Rather, on your pussy currently on display. 
Both legs thrown up over the side of the throne, you made quite the sight. 
The party and debauchery raged on around you, but you were well aware everyone in the room had at least one eye on you. Or on the scene playing out in front of them. You couldn’t blame them, you’d probably be watching as well. 
Right now, however, you were a prettily presented package for the Witch Queen, and gods you were in some kind of heaven. 
Manon ran an iron nail down the inside of your thigh. You shivered as she drifted over sensitive areas that, with one sharp flick of her wrist, could cut you open and spill your life out. It thrilled you. She didn't draw blood, instead built sensations along your inner thighs, supplementing each light scratch - that disappeared after a few seconds - with a press of her lips. They were surprisingly soft against your skin. Delicate, even, although you’d never have the courage to say that to her face. 
By the time she crouched, not knelt, before you, you were a squirming mess atop of her lover, his hands firmly gripping your thighs to keep them spread. 
Clothing had been lost nearly an hour ago, as soon as Dorian had decided he wanted to see all of their pet on display for them.
“How do you feel, pet?” Manon purred, voice bedroom ready with a slight rasp.
You whimpered. 
Dorian tutted behind you, “I think she asked you a question.” 
“Good, good, good,” you managed to chant, the only word that made sense. “Please,” you added. 
“If I want you to beg,” she lightly thwacked your inner thigh. “I’ll let you know.” 
You bit down on your bottom lip to keep more pleas from spilling. This wasn’t even like you, you’d never begged before but right now this female and male had you willing to fall to your knees for it. They’d teased you with gentle touches all night, the barest brushes of their skins against yours, as if they were waiting for this. For you, as a desperate and wiggling mess, ready to agree to any terms for release. 
Iron nails retracted, you held your breath. 
“Breathe,” Dorian chuckled in your ear, but you heard the hint of command. Slight embarrassment flushed through you, but Manon had either noticed and ignored, or not noticed at all. You’d bet money on the first option. 
At the first contact you gasped, inhaling deeply. Her fingers spread you open as she lowered her head closer. And stopped. 
Teeth ripped into your bottom lip to keep yourself from whining pathetically. 
She licked one long stripe up the center of your core, hands still spreading you widely. It was a good thing your King had a grip on you from behind, because your body writhed outside of your control, like you’d been possessed by pleasure. 
She repeated the action, twice, thrice, before pausing again. 
“She tastes delicious,” she told the king, and rose over you. Shifting to the side and twisting your head, you watched their tongues swirl together. As he tasted you on her. 
She lowered herself again, this time sucking your clit between her lips, flicking it lightly with her tongue. Talented. Manon Blackbeak was talented. 
Fingers pushed in, curling upward, your eyes rolled back, fingers gripping the King’s forearms with a death grip, nails probably biting in and committing some kind of crime. She sucked on your clit again, harder, pushing her fingers up against your front walls, and you fell over the edge. 
It hadn’t taken long, not with how they’d built you up the entire night, probably without knowing what they were doing. 
“My turn,” Dorian murmured into your ear. “If you’re ready,” 
Were you? For him, absolutely. 
“Yes,” you breathed, and were lifted on your feet. It took him seconds to maneuver you, bending you right over the side of the throne with an urgency you hadn’t seen from the man. Hands scrabbling for purchase, you gripped the opposite arm to keep yourself steady. You had a feeling that the attempt was useless. 
Dorian gripped one hip, you twisted over you shoulder to see his other hand wrapped around a beautiful cock, felt it notch at your entrance as he guided himself inside. 
Fuck. It felt incredible, having him inside of you, filling you up. 
His hips began moving and someone else, in front of you, caught your attention, tapping a finger on your lips. 
The Witch Queen. Momentary panic flooded you. Was she not alright with this? Were you about to lose your head? 
“I want to watch your face,” she murmured, “he feels good, doesn’t he?” 
You managed a nod. He moved faster, any words you might have said left you along with the ability to speak them. 
“You look like a dream,” she said in a matter-of-fact way that made you think she didn’t really believe it, but perhaps that’s just how she spoke. 
For several minutes, the King pounded into you, his hand eventually pressed against your lower back, and you dropped your hands to rest against the seat of the throne, arching your back for him, enjoying the moan that left his lips. 
As he pulled out, spilling himself all over your back, magic quickly cleaning it up, your body went limp against the throne, incapable of movement. 
“You’ll have to hire her again,” you heard the Queen tell the King as he scooped you into his arms.
kinktober taglist: @fourthwing4ever @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @erencvlt @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @hannzoaks @callsigns-haze @throneofsmut
general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f
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randomfanboi · 7 months ago
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Me seeing there's no Throne of Glass Male reader content
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dwkfan · 10 months ago
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And I also have way too many characters and people I would write about 😭
There are so many I can’t even tag them all cause I can only add 30 tags 😭
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sjmxreaderweek · 11 days ago
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Prompt List & Guidelines
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We hope everyone is feeling renewed and refreshed from their holiday celebrations! Here is the prompt list for our very first SJM x Reader Week!
We welcome you to interpret these prompts however you like. Moodboards, fan art, fanfic, playlists, we welcome all creations so long as human creativity went into it. We will not reblog any work using AI. We want to see what your beautiful minds come up with!
Please tag @sjmxreaderweek in your post and use the sjmxreaderweek and sjmxreaderweek2025 tags. We want to be able to reblog your creations, and this will help us find you!
Of course, if you have any questions please feel free to send them our way! Prompt descriptions are below:
Day One: Beginnings/Endings
This is the prompt of firsts and lasts, a chance for joy and heartbreak in equal measure. Tell us how your ship began or show us their final day together. Let us see them starting a new tradition or celebrating one for the last time.
Day Two: Friends/Family
How did they introduce their new significant other to their friends or family? Did they begin as friends? Were they introduced by family? How do the people they love the most factor into their lives?
Day Three: Fate/Choice
We can't fight fate, or can we? Does destiny trump the love you choose for yourself? Or do you defy the gods and choose your own path? Is having a fated mate as sweet as everyone makes it sound?
Day Four: Villain/Hero
Every hero is a villain in someone else's story. And, to some, a villain may be the hero they've been longing for. Is there blood on the hands that held you so sweetly? Did it come from great sacrifice, or was it sweet revenge?
Day Five: Heirs/Lords & Ladies
If SJM loves anything, it's a royal romance. Is your great love heir to a court or kingdom? How does their role or title affect their relationship? Is the head that wears the crown heavy, or does their birthright give them purpose? Does court intrigue play a part in their great romance?
Day Six: Adventure/Home
Come on, it's our chance to head out on an incredible adventure! Do we go find a tulip field in a foreign land for a lovely picnic? Is there danger afoot, do we need to save the world? Or do we stay inside, curled up with a good book and the one we love most? Sometimes the best adventures can be found in the comfort of your own home.
Day Seven: Free Day
Do you have an idea that won't fall under the previous prompts, now matter how loosely you interpret them? Now is your chance to tell us the story you've been wanting to tell! Got a weird AU you've been dying to share? Give it to us now! Write that crossover fic of your dreams. Anything goes!
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throneofsmut · 8 months ago
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Quiet In The Library
Dorian Havilliard x Reader || WC: 893 || Warnings: Smut
Summary: Dorian finds reader in the Library of Orynth during a visit to Terrasen. Based on this request.
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You were standing on the tips of your toes, reaching for a book on a too tall shelf in the Library of Orynth, your fingertips barely brushing against the spine of the book.
Letting out a soft noise of frustration while you silently cursed Aelin for telling you about the spicy novel that was in her personal section of the library.
“Come on.” You muttered angrily to no one in particular under your breath. “Stupid b—“ The quiet curse you were directing at the book is replaced by a loud yelp.
As a tall muscled body pressed you further against the bookshelf. A large hand covering yours as long fingers pulled the book down easily. Swiftly.
He was still crowding you against the books, his chest pressing into your back when he spoke, “How did I know you’d be in here, love.”
You turned around to face him. A hand pressed against your heart that was still pounding. “Dorian, don’t scare me like that!” You whisper-yelled at him.
“Sorry,” he chuckled softly, looking down at you lovingly.
“You say that every time.” He doesn’t respond. His eyes flicking over your face and body and back up to face, making your face heat. You hold your hand out for the book, “can I have my book now?”
Dorian lips set into a small grin when he takes in the furrow of your brows and sensual pink lips that are set in an angry pout. “No.”
“No?”
“No. Let me make it up to you, my love.”
You arch a brow at him, crossing your arms over your chest, “how?”
His grin turns sensual as he grabs ahold of one of your hands and leads both of you deeper, to a more secluded part of the library. You were both close friends to the Queen and King Consort of Terrasen, Aelin and Rowan.
Which is why you both had free rein in the Castle of Orynth, especially in the library, since all three of you—Aelin, Dorian and you—loved books.
Your heart was still pounding but now it was from anticipation. Knowing just how he would make it up to you. Part of you thought he liked to upset you just so he would have an excuse to make it up to you.
He finally stopped next to a corner bookshelf that towered over both of you that was labeled “Fantasy”. Dorian stilled for a few heartbeats, looking, listening if anyone was near and when he was satisfied that no one was he dropped to his knees.
In front of you.
Then a couple seconds later your tunic was pushed up over your tits and your pants were around your ankles. His hands gripped your hips and that was the only warning you got before he parted your wet folds with a flat tongue. “Oh f-fuck!” You moan, your hips rolling at the feeling.
Nipples hardened into peaks to the point of pain as he started pinching and pulling them, while his tongue began to flick and swirl over your swollen clit. Soft moans and whimpers leaving your lips at the feel of every stroke.
Your fingers pull and tug at his hair while your hips grind against his face. Breath hitching as your back arches from pleasure.
Heats pools at the base of your spine as you work your hips faster against his face. Chasing your climax and right when you’re about to reach your peak he pulls back. “Dorian, why did y—“
The words die in your throat when in one swift movement he stands to his full height and buries himself in your soaked cunt. A low groan falling from his lips as your walls clench around his cock. “I haven’t even moved yet and you’re already milking me, love,” he murmurs.
Your only response is a loud sinful moan as his hips set into a deep sensual rhythm. The head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot every time he moves.
He chuckles, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Quiet, love, you’re in the library.” You nod your head, as you bite your bottom lip attempting to stifle your moans.
Without stopping Dorian lifts you—your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he holds you up by your ass. Feeling him impossibly deeper than before at the new angle.
Your arms wrap around his neck as you try to muffle your cries of pleasure. “Oh gods. . . don’t stop! Right there!” The bookshelves digging into your back in the best way with each thrust.
Even his own groans are getting raspier, louder as he fucks you harder. His hold on you, tightening as he chases his own release and yours.
The both of you, so close to the edge of release.
You begin to tremble in his strong arms as the fire in your tummy spreads to your whole body. His pace turning desperate, your back arching as a shattered scream rips through your throat as you climax.
Dorian swallows it greedily with a hungry kiss as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Not a minute later his hips began to stutter and with one last deep thrust his release barrels through him.
His muscles tensing beneath your touch as your walls flutter around his cock, milking every last drop of his cum, as he groans against your neck.
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verperina · 1 year ago
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It Was Just for One Night
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Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader 
Summary: What was only supposed to be a one-time thing turns into a two-time thing.
Warnings: 18+ smut
Word Count: 5,666
Author's Note: This is my first time writing in a while and my first time writing for Throne of Glass/SJM’s work. I’ve never published anything on here before, so please don’t be too harsh. I hate the dialogue and the smut, but oh well. Massive credit to @autumnshighlady for helping me with the smut and for being so kind.
You feel the faint touch of a phantom hand ghost along the skin of your bare back, leaving goosebumps. You suppress a shudder. You could feel a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face, making your heart beat faster. You raised the glass of red wine to your lips and swallowed a mouthful down, trying to appear calm with your father standing beside you, conversing with another lord. They were talking about something that you had no interest in or care enough to act like you were listening to them.
His eyes were on you. Watching you. Always watching you. You finally let your eyes meet the king’s gaze and they were filled with pure hunger and desire. His sapphire eyes slowly trailed the entire length of your body, taking in the dark navy satin dress that had been gifted to you this morning. You weren’t even aware who had gifted you the dress, but it was obvious now. From the way his lips twitched and the hunger in his eyes became more and more apparent.  
It had only been a month since you and Dorian had slept together. A drunken fueled haze that had been filled with pure carnal desire. It was a one-time thing. You knew it would never happen again, but it didn’t mean that you would if it did. He had been a very generous and a very passionate lover. Making sure that you had found release, multiple times, before finding his own. When he finished, he asked if you were okay, dressed himself and left your chambers and that was it. You weren’t expecting anything after. It would be foolish to think so. 
You were surprised that the king had chosen you of all people to bed. You had heard that when Dorian was still the prince he was a harlot, so surely it wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone more appealing since he’s the King of Adarlan.
After that night there were times when both of you would be in the same room and you would make yourself never look in his direction, or he would talk to your father about diplomatic matters and rather quickly, you would excuse yourself. You didn’t want anyone to find out. You could only imagine the scandal it would cause.
An older man was talking to Dorian, and the king nodded his head, pretending that he was listening. His crown gleaming in the light, rings decorating his long fingers, dressed exquistely, and seated on his throne full of pride. He was beautiful and he knew it too. 
You forced yourself to divert your gaze, focusing instead on the people dancing to the music and the decorations that adorned the room for the Yulemas ball. But you felt it again. That phantom touch. And this time, it wasn’t faint. It felt more apparent. More forceful. 
The touch stroked the length of your spine before landing on the curve of your backside, trailing downwards until it reached the back of your thigh, and gave a soft squeeze. You purse your lips as your hand clenches the stem of the wine glass, face warming, and you quickly glance at your father and the other lord, making sure they weren’t paying attention to what was happening, before looking back toward Dorian to see his eyes were still on you. He wasn’t even trying to hide the smug look on his face.
Arrogant prick. You couldn’t believe he was choosing to do this in a room full of people. Especially with your father right next to you. You shot a subtle look at Dorian, but it only seemed to amuse him. He cocked his head to the side, a mocking gesture, daring you to do something. The tension was starting to become too much. 
You swallowed.
“I’m going out to the garden for some air,” you said quietly to your father. He waved his hand in dismissal and continued his conversation with the man. You placed your glass down on the nearest table and began weaving your way through the crowds of people, careful to not get anyone’s wine on your dress. You could feel Dorian’s gaze burning through the back of your head, following your every movement. 
When you walked outside you inhaled the air, welcoming it into your lungs and letting the cold breeze cool your flushed body. Everything had felt too warm and crowded inside that room. Too overwhelming.
Snow fell from the sky, landing on the ground and kissing it a beautiful white. A few snowflakes landed in your hair. The wind was lightly blowing, making your skin prickle. You pulled a single rose from a bush, careful to not cut your fingers on any of the thorns. The rose was a deep, luscious shade of red with soft petals. You lifted the flower to your nose and inhaled its sweet and floral scent. There was a soft crunch in the snow behind you. Footsteps. You didn’t have to turn around to know who they belonged to. 
“That is a very beautiful dress,” Dorian said, his voice smooth. You turned your head to the side and met his gaze. Pure mirth in his stare. His raven black hair shining in the moonlight. “You look rather flustered.”
You kept your face blank, feeling a small hint of annoyance starting to bubble up inside of you. “Are you mad?”
Dorian quirked an eyebrow. “No, ‘Your Majesty’?” 
A roll of your eyes. “Are you mad, Your Majesty?” 
He grinned. “Ask me tomorrow.”
"My father was right there,” you huffed. “He could have seen. Anyone could have seen.”
“Yes, but no one did.”
“I’m not an exhibsionist.”
“I apologize, my lady.” He gave a mocking bow.
“Is this a game to you?” you ask, turning to face him fully. 
His brows slightly furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You had your fun. We both did,” you explained. “It was a one-time thing, so why did you give me this dress and why did you do that in there?”
He was quiet for a moment, studying you, and then he said, “What if I want it to become a two-time thing?”
“Why? What’s in it for you?” you say cautiously. Surely, he wasn’t serious.
“I get to enjoy your presence once more,” he answered. “I rather enjoyed myself the last time.”
You try to hide your surprise, but he caught it. You kept your eyes on him, furrowing your eyebrows, and wondered why he wanted to sleep together again, with you, when he could have anyone else. You weren’t completely turned-off to the idea. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought about it.
In the dead of night, you would let your fingers slip inside your wet cunt and fantasize about his hands wrapping around your throat, his teeth tugging on your nipple, and his cock thrusting inside of you. The sound of his groans and your moans, both of your bodies slick with sweat. You felt a flutter low in your stomach. Your throat bobbed.
“We could enjoy each other’s company once more.” 
“What if someone finds out?” You cross your arms across your chest. “It would make things difficult for you, but mostly for me.”
“The guards wouldn’t say anything,” he reassured. 
You raised an eyebrow. “Surely the absence of your presence has been noted.”
“I announced that I was retiring for the night and told everyone to continue partying.”
“What if someone sees?”
“Everyone is too busy drinking and dancing,” he paused for a moment, looking you up and down, noticing that your body was stiff. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you not want to? If not, then it’s fine, I don’t mean to place pressure on you.”
You could tell that Dorian’s words were genuine. His face was soft and patient, waiting for you to respond. “I want to,” you admitted. His eyes became bright at your words. “I just don’t want to complicate things.” He waited for you to continue. “You’re the King of Adarlan. I don’t think people would be pleased to know that you’ve bedded me. I would probably be seen as a woman who tempted the king for money and power; as a whore.”
“It's no one's business what I do, or what you do. I am the king. My guards know to keep their mouths shut, especially the ones that are stationed outside my chambers. If anyone does find out, then you can come to me, and I will deal with it.” 
You thought about it for a moment, weighing your options, and glanced around the garden to see that it was still empty. You met his gaze once more and nodded. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, voice coming out low. He took a step closer to you. 
“Yes.” You licked your lips, and his eyes trailed the movement. You took a step forward, glancing at his lips, tilting your head upwards and parting your lips slightly, giving him permission to kiss you. His hand came to cup your face, his thumb lightly stroking the side of your cheek while his other hand settled on your hip, giving it a hard squeeze.
Your bodies were pressed against each other, and it was then that you could feel the hardness of his cock through his trousers. You leaned your head forward, feeling his breathe as your lips were about to connect-
You jerked back as you let out a low hiss of pain as one of the thorns sliced into the tip of your index finger. A bead of blood pooled at the cut, making your skin sting. Dorian plucked the flower from your hand and brought your finger close to his face, his eyes inspecting the small cut and then he looked at you, a sly look on his face.
“You need to be more careful, dove.” He brought your finger to his lips, pressing light kisses onto the skin slowly, as if savoring the taste of the salt on your skin mixed with your blood. His tongue replaced his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Your breath hitched and you could feel wetness start to pool in between your thighs. His teeth harshly nipped at the skin, making a small noise escape your throat. “Dorian,” you moaned quietly. “Please.” Your toes curled. He tossed the rose on the ground, releasing your finger, and brought your lips to his. 
His lips were cold but soft, and you ran your hands through his thick hair, your nails lightly scraping his scalp. You swallowed the groan that left his mouth. His hands are roughly squeezing your backside, pushing you closer to him. He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth as you pressed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the aching tension.
“Not here,” you breathed.
He nodded and grabbed your hand, walking both of you out of the garden and through a door that had no one near it, and led the two of you back inside the castle. You had to walk fast to keep up with the strides of his long legs. The halls that he led you through were thankfully empty, not even the guards were positioned in the hallway, it looked like any rarely came through this way. He squeezed your hand and brushed his thumb across your knuckles. 
The hall to where his chambers came into view and the guards stationed outside didn’t so much as flinch as Dorian neared the door. They only gave a respectful bow to their king, averting their eyes, and pretended to not notice that his hand was interlaced with yours, or that his lips were swollen, and the tanned skin of his cheeks were flushed.
He pushed open the door and led you through his room, quickly closing the door. You stopped in the middle of the room and noticed it was rather untidy; books were open and lying on his desk and the table by the sofa, his bed was unmade, and a few of his clothes were on the floor. But it smelled like him. So much like Dorian.
Your back was facing Dorian, his footsteps sounding closer, the sound of his crown being placed gently on a table, and then he was right behind you. His front pressed against your back, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before grabbing your chin, making you meet his gaze, sapphire eyes were blazing. His forehead rested against yours. “I need to hear you say it.”
Your breathing was growing heavier.
“Yes. Please.”
His hand released your chin, moving your head back to its original position and his free hand came to rest on your hip. His hand then wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly, and tilted your head back. Dorian’s lips were brushing the shell of your ear before his teeth tugged on the lobe of your ear, biting gently.
The hand on your waist moved until it was settled right above your pelvis, pushing you back so you could feel his cock. You slightly shifted your hips, grinding your ass on his hardened length, and you were pleased when a low groan left him.
He left a trail of rough kisses down the column of your throat, teeth occasionally nipping and harshly sucking on the flesh, marking you as his. Quiet moans escaping your lips as you let your body lean more into him.
The thin strap of your dress fell down your shoulder, exposing your collarbone. Phantom hands came to cup your breasts through the flimsy material of your dress, squeezing before pinching your peaked nipples, hard. 
A hiss left you, arching your back away from his body, but his hand pushed you back against him and held you tightly, and grabbed your face again, placing his lips on yours. The tip of your tongue meeting his own. Heat bloomed in your core. He bit your bottom lip as he removed the dress from your body and let it fall to the floor. You turned around, arms snaking around his neck and pulling at the thick strands of his hair. 
Both of his hands grabbed yours as he pulled his lips away from yours. Breathing heavily, he guided you toward his large bed. His cheeks were a flushed red and his once neat hair was messy from you dragging your fingers through it.
You climbed onto the bed and sat up on your knees, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again. His hand came to cup the side of your ass, his blunt fingernails lightly scratching before a harsh smack came down, the sound echoing throughout the room.
Your body jolted forward and you let out a loud, breathy moan. You felt yourself becoming more aroused. 
“You like how that feels?” Dorian asked. Another harsh smack came down, on the opposite side this time, when you didn’t answer. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” you groaned, head tipping back in pleasure.
“I’m going to take good care of you.” The words sounded like a promise.
You tugged off his jacket and let it drop to the floor. You took off his tunic next, revealing the pale line on his tan skin from where the collar had been, and strong, firm muscle. Your hand came to cup his cock through his black trousers. Dorian hissed, eyebrows slightly creasing together in pleasure. You press light kisses on the pale part of his neck, sucking harshly, leaving love bites of your own and running your tongue over the bruised flesh.
He grabbed you by the neck, putting his lips back on yours. His kiss was deliberately slow. Teasing. Savoring the taste of the red wine on your lips. His fingers are pulling at the hair at the nape of your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, wanting to feel the hardness of his length against your stomach. Fingertips pressing into the curve of your neck as his tongue sweeps over your mouth. 
You moan into the kiss, feeling his phantom hands squeezing your ass, tracing the band of your underwear. His fingertips brush over your nipples. They’re cold with his ice magic. You shiver and his mouth curves in delight. The tip of Dorian’s nail grazes the hardened bud before he bends down and takes your nipple in his mouth. Your underwear is sticky with your arousal.
He keeps his eyes on you, watching how your head tips back, how your lips part as you begin moaning breathily. He rolls your other nipple between his thumb and index finger, leaving goosebumps on your skin from the coldness of his flesh. He sucks roughly, moaning around the bud as you pull at his hair, and then he tugs at your nipple with his teeth. His tongue laps over it before he begins sucking again. 
“Feels so good,” you mumble, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him grin in satisfaction.
Dorian releases the abused flesh and he starts repeating the same motions on the other nipple, but this time it’s harsher, more animalistic. His hand starts trailing down your stomach and then cups your clothed cunt. A chuckle leaves his lips at what he found. “You’re so wet.” 
He dips his hand in your underwear and runs a finger through your folds. You start to slowly move your hips, rubbing your clit on the heel of his palm to relieve the aching tension. “Stay still,” he warns, “or I’ll stop.” You groan in frustration, but comply, hesitantly. He circles the entrance to your hole, gathering the wetness that had pooled there, and then slips a finger inside of you.
Your back arches the same time as you let out a choked moan. You clench around him, fighting the urge to rub your clit against his palm. Painfully slow, in a teasing manner, he thrusts his finger in and out. He takes his time in stretching you out. Your voice is husky as you say, “Kiss me.” You open your eyes to see that he’s already looking at you. Pure desire in his gaze. 
“Kiss me,” you repeat again. He obliges. There’s nothing gentle or soft about the kiss. It’s messy and fast and rough. Your teeth are clashing against each other, desperate to taste each other. Your breaths are labored, trying to breathe in more air.
He enters a second finger and when you gasp, he shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders before brushing your thumbs over his nipples.
“Since that night I’ve thought of doing this again,” Dorian admitted. “I fucked myself to the thought of you. Imagining it was you stroking my cock.”
His words made you clench around his fingers. You could picture it. His eyes closed, head leaning back against the pillows, and his hand gripping his cock, squeezing hard. His groans coming out hoarsely, loudly. There was a sense of triumph in knowing that you had made the King of Adarlan fantasize about you. It was satisfying. 
“So have I,” you also admitted. 
“Tell me,” he demanded.
You swallowed. “I shoved my fingers inside my cunt and wished that it was yours instead. I thought of your tongue on my cunt, of your hand around my throat and your cock inside me.” 
Dorian’s fingers thrust faster the same time phantom hands tug at your nipples, a warm feeling blooming low in your stomach. Your moans were coming out in short gasps. “Dorian.” Your fingernails leave marks on his broad shoulders and your head tips back. “I’m so close.” The pressure that had been building was becoming more intense. He whispers words of encouragement and praise. 
And with a curl of his fingers you cry out, arching your body into him as your orgasm hits you. Your breath comes out in stutters, your body jerking and your knees trembling. His phantom hands help keep you upright. He coaxes you through it. And when your moans cease, he very slowly removes his fingers from your cunt with a squelching sound. 
He brings them to his face, inspecting the wet sheen on them. Dorian smiles. “Look at how soaked you are.” Your arousal coats his entire hand, dripping down to his wrist. And while he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he puts his digits into his mouth and tastes your juices. Your breath hitches. His sapphire eyes darken considerably. 
The palm of his hand rests on your collarbone and he gently pushes you until your back is lying on the bed. He reaches forward and rips off the lacy material of your underwear. After tossing them across the room he takes a step back and greedily takes in the sight of you; a thin sheen of sweat is covering your body, your nipples are red and swollen from where he sucked and bit on them, and your cunt is dripping wet. 
“I need you,” your voice snaps Dorian out of his daze.
He starts to undo the button of trousers and pushes them down, removing his undershorts also. He steps out of them quickly and tosses them aside, and his cock slaps against his abdomen hard. You take in the sight; the fine patch of dark hair, the tip of his cock is red and leaking with his arousal.
You lick your lips, desperate to have his cock in your mouth. The previous time you fucked each other, you only briefly got to lick him, and you had forgotten what he’d tasted like.
He wraps a hand around his cock, giving it a firm stroke. He hisses. “You see what you do to me?”
Dorian walks forward, kneels on the bed and uses his phantom hands to restrain your wrists to the mattress. He lowers himself between your legs and an almost pained look crosses his features as he stares at your core, wet and gleaming for him.
It was a slow torture, him slowly kissing the inside of your thighs, nipping at skin and leaving love bites. His thumbs draw circles into your hips, and you keep squirming, wanting his tongue on your most sensitive part, but he seemed keen on the idea to tease you.
“Dorian,” you rasped. He would continue teasing until you begged for it. It’s what he wanted. You held his gaze and watched as he waited, a grin was on his face, but you could see his body trembling with restraint to keep himself from ravishing you. “Please.”
He cocks his head to the side, mockingly, and his grin is feline. “Because you asked nicely. . .”
Dorian took a long, languid lick up the center of your core. You let out a moan in relief and your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding up and down you, tasting you thoroughly. He peppers kisses along your cunt before he starts licking again. 
One of his hands comes up to pinch your nipple and you buck your hips against his face, but he throws an arm across your waist to keep you still. He wraps his lips directly around your clit and you cry out as he starts sucking the sensitive nub. You struggle against the phantom hands that bound your wrists. You want to run your fingers through his hair grind against his face.
Grabbing your thighs, Dorian drapes them over his shoulders to hold you closer and keeps his eyes pinned to your face. He wanted to watch you come on his tongue. He pumps his fingers in and out of you, curling ever so slightly. 
“Right there,” you gasp.
You watch as he presses his hips hard against the mattress and begins rutting against it, a soft groan leaving him and it vibrates through your core.
You try to free your hands from his magic, but it doesn’t budge. “Let me touch you.” You look at him with pleading eyes. “Please, let me touch you.” Finally, those phantom hands release their grip on you.
Your body writhes and your fingers rake through his black hair to push him closer, nails scratching along his scalp. Your cries of pleasure encourage him to keep going. His teeth scraping your clit is what makes you climax. His fingers quicken their pace, tongue moving faster, letting you ride out your high.
It leaves you trembling with needing more, but Dorian removes his tongue and fingers from you and leans back on his knees. His eyes linger on your abused cunt before he looks at you and you stare at him, too. Blue eyes full of adoration. His hair was in disarray, cheeks a pretty shade of pink, and his chin and lips were coated with your arousal but he didn’t seem to care.
He looked devastating.
You barely had time to catch your breath before he grabbed you by the hips and turned you around so you were on your knees, ass in the air, and the side of your face was pressed against the sheets. His hand left a hard smack across your ass cheek making a yelp escape your lips. Dorian’s hands once again grab your hips to bring you close to his face, and his fingers tease your entrance, and you arch your back, urging him to bring you another orgasm again.
He laughed teasingly. “So eager, dove.”
He sticks his tongue inside of your cunt and your entire body shudders. He moans, as if this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. The taste of you was going to haunt him after this was over. The essence of you would haunt him. 
He presses his fingers inside your leaking hole and the pace is fast, desperate to draw a third orgasm from you. Dorian wanted you to come again, and again, and again. He needed you to come again. 
Another harsh slap to your ass has you moaning out his name. Your hands clutch the sheets tightly and you rock your hips against his face, and unlike last time, he doesn’t try to make you stay still. He lets you grind yourself on his face and makes his phantom hands rock your hips to move them faster. The tips of his fingers would leave bruises from how hard their grip was.
Lewd noises were coming out of his mouth and your face warmed from the sounds.
Your body trembles as he flicks his tongue against your clit repeatedly and you feel yourself come again. A loud cry echoing against the walls of his room. He hums against your cunt, letting the vibrations further stimulate you. It isn’t until your whimpering that he finally relents. You’re panting, strands of hair clinging to your forehead, and your knees give out beneath you.
“You’re doing so good for me,” Dorian praised. He presses a kiss against your spine. And then another. His hand rubbing your red backside from the slaps he gave. His ice magic soothing the tender skin.
“Dorian,” you mumble.
“Are you okay?” he asks, running a strong hand down the length of your spine gently. Your skin prickles.
You manage a weak nod.
“Use your words.”
“Yes,” you murmur. Your eyelids were heavy and the perspiration felt sticky on the nape of your neck.
He helps turn you around so you’re laying on your back. You drink in the sight of him and he does the same. Dorian’s lips were shining with your arousal and his cock looked painfully hard. You wanted to kiss him. You reached out a trembling hand, and he eyed it before taking hold of it and leaning over you, bracing his body weight on his elbows. His nose brushes yours softly.
“Kiss me,” you breathe. He brought his mouth to yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue. You were both frantic and desperate, and didn’t want to pull your mouths apart from each other. 
You cup his face, rubbing your thumb along the sharp cheekbone as your other hand played with the strands of his hair. His body was trembling and whatever self-control he had left was slipping away.
You reach a hand down, gripping his length and give it a lazy stroke. He makes a soft noise at the touch, slowly moving his hips as you start pressing kisses onto his collarbones. His forehead resting on top of yours, eyes closed and savoring the moment. You run your thumb over the slit, gathering moisture before giving a gentle squeeze that makes a low growl leave Dorian. That last bit of self-control was completely gone.
He takes his cock and lines the head of it up with your cunt and in one motion, he fully sheaths himself inside of you. A sigh of contentment leaves the pair of you. His pace starts off slow, languid. Your hips roll against his, trying to find a rhythm that matches. His hands roam over the sides of your body before landing on your plush hips. Fingertips digging into your flesh.
“Tell me how you feel.” He licked the side of your throat.
“Good,” you pant. “So good.” 
“You like me being inside you?” His tone was teasing, mocking, but you could hear how gravelly he sounded.
“Yes.” 
He presses kisses to your lips, your neck, your collarbones, the swell of your breasts. Tongue flicking over both nipples. Your legs lock around his trim waist, bringing him closer to you and you clench tightly around him, and his hips jerk, drawing two mirrored moans of pleasure from you both. Your head tips back in bliss and your entire body is buzzing from pleasure.
Dorian’s eyes were a shade of blue so dark they looked like the freezing cold waters of the sea. He moans out your name like a prayer and dips down to kiss you again, as if one isn’t enough. Your hands run up and down his chest, the tip of your nail scraping his nipple. His thrusts were becoming rougher, deeper, more punishing than before. Your breasts bouncing with every snap of his hips.
One of his phantom hands started rubbing your clit and a low pressure was beginning to bloom in your belly, making a breathy gasp leave you. The walls of your cunt start contracting. Hot, heavy, open-mouthed kisses leave a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. It was messy. Both of you were moaning into each other’s mouth. Both of you sounded so needy.
Dorian buried his face into the crook of your neck. A cry left your lips as his teeth bit down on your skin. His thrusts were brutal, each one bringing you closer to the edge, hips snapping into yours hard enough that the headboard was banging against the wall. He obviously didn’t care if someone heard. And neither did you. The fingers on your clit were moving faster and your body was shaking. “Please, please, please. . .”
That familiar coil settled in your lower abdomen snaps. Your back arching off the bed as you come, the walls of your cunt clenching around him rhythmically, and you bury your forehead into the crook of his neck. Nails leaving red marks on his shoulders and down his back, and toes curling from the overstimulation.
Dorian fucks you through it, and his groans are growing louder and his thrusts harsher; he was going to come. He breathes out a desperate, pleading noise, leaning down until his forehead is pressed against yours. He fucks into you harder. The sound of skin-on-skin reverberating through the room. You give him words of encouragement, pressing quick kisses to his lips.
He comes with a deep, guttural groan. His hips stuttering. And you feel his seed spill into you as he rides out his high, fingertips gripping your hips so tight bruises would probably appear. His thrusts start to slow down before eventually stopping, and he pauses for a moment, panting heavily, before collapsing on top of you, unable to hold himself up any longer.
You brush back the damp strands of hair that cling to his forehead. Both of your bodies are shaking and slick with sweat. His breath tickles your skin. 
There were no noises in the room anymore save for the sounds of both of you gasping for air, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable. Dorian’s fingers loosened their tight grip on your hips and rubbed the flesh tenderly. A sigh of contentment left you. A passionate and generous lover indeed.
You could feel him start to grow restless. You unlocked your legs from around his waist and he gently pulled out from you with an almost inaudible hiss, and rolled onto his back right beside you, trying to catch his breath. The air in the room grew cold, his magic cooling the both of you off.
Your limbs felt heavy and you could feel his seed spilling out from you. You closed your eyes for a moment, still feeling the tingling sensation all over your body. Deep down you knew that no one would ever fuck you as good as Dorian just had. You didn’t know if this would happen again or if people would find out that you had fucked their king.
A small part of you inside felt sad knowing that you would be staying at the castle for only one more month before leaving to go back to your city. But you knew it was just sex. You didn’t expect anything more. It would be foolish to.
You could feel Dorian’s eyes burning into the side of your head, his lips parting. “Perhaps we should do this again.” The words were spoken nonchalantly, but you picked up on the tinge of nervousness. “Make it a three-time thing.”
You lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, making yourself appear calm, and felt a grin tugging at your lips. “Maybe.”
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moonlitstoriess · 6 months ago
Text
Across the Universe-ch.11 (Fenrys x Reader)
Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.
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Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling the warmth of a late afternoon filtering through the curtains. For a moment, she was disoriented, unsure of where she was. Then the events of the previous couple of days flooded back: the battle in the woods, Fenrys being injured, the ugly creature, and their vulnerable moment together in her room.
She shifted slightly and felt the weight of Fenrys' arm draped over her waist. He was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep. The scratches on his body seemed less angry in the soft morning light. Y/n gently turned her head to look at him, taking in the lines of his face, the way his brows softened in sleep, and the slight crease of pain that lingered on his features.
With a sigh, she realized how peaceful and content she felt in this moment, lying close to him. Despite the turmoil around them, there was a sense of serenity that she hadn't felt in a long time. Fenrys had always been strong, fierce, and protective, but seeing him vulnerable like this, trusting her enough to let his guard down, touched something deep within her.
Carefully, so as not to disturb him, y/n shifted closer, her head resting against his chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm tightened around her instinctively, pulling her closer in response. She felt safe, cherished even, in this simple gesture.
As they lay there intertwined, the world outside seemed to fade away. Y/n knew they couldn't stay like this forever, that reality would soon come crashing back in. But for now, in the quiet intimacy of the morning, they found solace in each other's presence.
Eventually, Fenrys stirred awake, blinking his eyes open slowly. When he saw her looking at him, a soft smile spread across his face. "Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep but filled with warmth.
"Morning," y/n replied softly, returning his smile. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of happiness in her chest, a sense of gratitude for this moment they shared.
She shifted slightly, stretching out her stiffened limbs. Fenrys remained beside her, his presence a comforting weight against her side. The events of the previous day replayed in her mind like a vivid dream—encountering the Valg-spawned creature, the frantic chase through the woods, and finally, finding solace in each other's embrace.
Fenrys stirred again, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of concern and relief. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice still tinged with the remnants of sleep.
Y/n couldn't help but smile faintly at his question. "Better, now that I'm not alone," she replied honestly. Despite the physical and emotional toll of the recent events, being with Fenrys brought her a sense of calm and reassurance she hadn't realized she needed.
He nodded silently, his gaze lingering on her face as if trying to read her thoughts. "I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
Her brows furrowed in confusion "What for?"
Fenrys sighed, his expression clouded with a mixture of emotions. "I just wish I could have protected you better," he murmured, his eyes searching hers for understanding.
"You did," y/n insisted earnestly. "You saved me back there, in the woods. If it weren't for you, my throat would have already been ripped out."
He turned his head towards the ceiling and closed his eyes, displaying his thick and tan neck to her, "You don't understand, these creatures....they are just newer forms of the ones that we fought against during the war. The Valgs are clearly creating new ones and this was just a warning to us. You probably never even saw such things in Prythian so now, you are also caught up in all this mess-"
"Fenrys, my world had even worse than whatever you all have here. I am pretty sure these monsters are nothing new to me."
His eyes popped open as he turned to her with a surprised expression "Really?"
Y/n giggled and said, "Yes! I mean, we had the Attor who was this disgusting thing that could fly, Feyre ended up killing it. Then, we had naga and the naga-hound who were slightly similar to what we saw yesterday. We also have Kelpies and Puca. But....worst of all was the Middengard Wyrm. I never saw it in real life but Rhysand did and from what he showed me through his memories, it was horrible. It's like this huge worm, the size of a whole mountain, with sharp and large teeth. Ironically, Feyre also fought against that and guess what? she won!! Everyone except Rhys thought that she would die but, she proved them all wrong."
Fenrys just stared at her with an amused gaze as he said, "Seems like your Feyre is a lucky one if she survived that."
Y/n sighed, her eyes going distant, to her memories with her once high lady "Yes, yes she is. Rhys is lucky to have her as a mate."
She noticed Fenrys tug her hair behind her ear as he whispered "Have you met your mate yet? If not, would you like one?"
At that, her expression turned sour as she pondered over his questions for a minute. She thought that Azriel was her mate. That them being together this long meant that at some point, that bond would snap. That because she loved him endlessly and thought that he felt the same, they were destined to be.
Of course, those thoughts were prior to Azriel ripping her heart out and crushing it in his hands. Now, she despises that word. Her heart has been completely shattered for anyone else. Y/n knows that she isn't destined for a happy end. She never was. That's why she vowed herself to never open up her heart, her soul, to anyone again. So, even if in the slim chance that she did have a mate and he or she ended up falling from the skies right onto her path, even if the Mother herself would tell her that 'this is your mate', y/n would just turn around and walk away.
It seems like she knew her answer.
Y/n's mood changed as she just got into a sitting position and said, "We should get up. They are probably worried about us."
Fenrys shifted to sit up, wincing slightly as he moved. "Y/n-"
Y/n watched him with concern, her hand lingering on his arm. "You should rest," she suggested gently. "Let me get Isolde—"
Fenrys shook his head, interrupting her. "I'm fine," he insisted, though the tightness around his eyes betrayed his words. "Just a few scratches."
Y/n frowned, unconvinced, but she nodded reluctantly. "Alright," she relented, knowing he was as stubborn as she was when it came to injuries.
Just then Eva burst into the room with Manon in tow as she came running at them.
"We heard noises and thought you two were awake!"
Y/n smiled at the younger girl as she just nodded her head and let Manon gently help her get off the bed.
At the noise, Aedion and Lorcan came in also helping Fenrys who was still skeptically glancing at the latter.
Aedion had a smirk on his face as he said out loud while leading Fenrys towards the door with Lorcan, "Seems like you two had quite the nap."
Manon shut him up before y/n could with a "Just take him and leave, blondie."
Everyone but Aedion laughed at the nickname as the males took Fenrys out of the room, y/n casting a final glance at his back before he disappeared.
Manon looked at Eva and said with a soft voice, "Go get the bath ready. She stinks."
The girl just laughed and nodded before going to the washroom.
When y/n looked back at the witch, she smelled....oh Gods "Seven hells, you stink of sex! And you say I stink?"
Manon blushed. She actually blushed as a pinkish tint overtook her pale cheeks.
"Can you blame me? I haven't seen him in.....three months."
Y/n couldn't hide the cheshire grin that was growing by the minute on her face as Manon sat her down on the chair near the vanity, slowly renewing her bandages as she said, "Oh really? How romantic, you two should definetly get married already."
Manon just smirked slightly "We'll see about that. What about you and your mate?"
When she saw y/n's frustrated expression, Manon quickly corrected herself, "I meant, I think he is your mate? I- Aelin told me you had someone like that, apparently he was going crazy over finding you."
Y/n just sadly shook her head, "No, he was my lover but not mate. Found his mate 50 years into our relationship and instead of telling me, cheated on me with her for two years while ignoring me. That caused me to have panick attacks and go back into my old habits which were.....not good so I don't want to talk about it. While this was happening, the rest of the family did nothing. No one gave me a shoulder to cry on or a presence to atleast vent to. They knew of his secret and didn't tell me either."
She saw Manon's expression go from one of concern and confusion to one of fury and ice as she said in a voice so cold, it made y/n shiver "Those bastards. You know, I would gladly go with you to your world just so I can kill them quickly and then slowly torture Azriel before ending him too."
Y/n just smiled while shaking her head.
"I leave for five minutes and come back to see Manon already plotting someones death."
They both turned their heads to see Eva standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed and glancing between them.
Manon's expression turned playful again as she stuck out her tounge to her while y/n gave a lighthearted laugh at that.
Eva just rolled her eyes with a small smile as she helped y/n get up and led her towards the bathroom with the witch.
When the three of them entered the dining room, they were welcomed by loud noises of everyone arguing.
The food lay forgotten as chaos erupted around the dining table. Rowan stood, his hands raised in a placating gesture, attempting to soothe Aelin who was in a heated argument with Dorian. Yrene shook her head in exasperation, trying to mediate between them. Chaol and Lysandra engaged in their own intense debate, their voices rising above the rest. Aedion, seated nearby, simply nodded along with whatever his wife said, wisely staying out of the fray.
Meanwhile, Lorcan seemed oblivious to the commotion, seizing the opportunity to shower his wife with kisses. Fenrys sat apart on a nearby couch, rubbing his temples with a look of frustration etched on his face.
Y/n heard Manon murmur "Grown ups but still act like damn children." before she gently sat y/n down with Eva's help on the couch opposite to Fenrys and went towards the table "We found an open gate!"
Everyone, including Fenrys and y/n, shut up and looked at the witch with absolute shock.
Dorian and Aedion spoke at the same time "What?! You're lying"
Manon just shrugged and went to take her place on the chair, "Yes, I am lying. Thought shouting this out would make you all finally shut up and come back to your senses."
Aelin just sighed while plopping back down on her chair "Manon, tell your little king to stop doubting every step of my plans."
Dorian just glared at her as he said, "If you call saying 'no' to a foolish idea 'doubting' then you are becoming mad in the head"
That earned him a growl from Rowan but before the silver haired prince could say anything, Eva interfered "What are you talking about?"
Rowan, not taking his eyes off of Dorian, replied, voice etched with frustration, "We are having a ball of sorts for tomorrow evening."
Lysandra just beckoned the girl over to her side with an exasperated sigh "The people are getting suspicious. Some residents said that they heard horrible noises last night, which was clearly because of your fight against the Valg-demon, the monks and sages in the sanctuary actually sent Aelin a letter demanding to know why some of their most ancient books containing dangerous information were used by me and Elide when we went there,"
Yrene filled her cup with water as she added, "Apparently, us all being here is also a cause for concern for many including lord Darrow who is getting really suspicious about us arriving here out of the blue. Not to mention, y/n, you weren't as slick as you thought because you were spotted by some when you flew over the city the other night."
Chaol just looked at his wife with wide eyes "You support their idea? We don't need any extra attention. Hosting this silly little ball for the sake of calming the lords and ladies is just a waste of time AND resources."
Manon just smirked "Actually, it is an amazing idea. Everyone will believe that we are here for this gathering and will therefore, stop worrying and sniffing where they don't belong. We won't have to look over our shoulder every second to see if anyone is suspicious. Especially Darrow."
Lorcan nodded as he looked pointedly at Chaol "It is also a great chance for the Valg's to try something. We can all be on alert and ready to strike if that happens. And then get some answers out of them."
Dorian just shrugged while coming to sit next to Manon "Well, if this woman beside me says that the idea is amazing, who am I to disagree?"
Aelin narrowed her eyes at the young king "Oh, so when I say it, the plan is horrible but when Manon agrees, suddenly the plan is amazing?"
"Exactly" Dorian said as a matter of fact while winking at the blond female.
Aelin was about to retort when Rowan put a hand on her shoulder while announcing to the room "It is decided then. We are having a ball tomorrow."
Dorian then turned his eyes to y/n and got up, coming closer to the couch on which she was sitting in "When Aelin told me that you have wings, I thought she was making things up. Turns out you do truly have wings! Very fascinating, by the way."
Dorian stood right infront of her now, extending his hand out for her to shake and as she took his hand in hers, he said with a blinding smile, "Dorian Haviliard the Second. King of Adarlan and....well, that's all, essentially."
"And Manon's lapdog" Aedion snorted from the table followed by other laughs and chuckles. Dorian just rolled his eyes "Ignore that one, he doesn't realize it but we all see how he follows and does whatever Lysandra says like a lovesick puppy."
Y/n smiled as Lysandra snickered while Aedion scoffed "Nice to meet you, your majesty. I'm y/n y/l/n, from Prythian. Specifically, the Illyrian mountains."
"Please, call me Dorian. I think you and I will get along just fine, y/n. Let's sit down and talk some time, yes?"
"Absolutely, Dorian."
She heard someone clear their throat as both y/n and Dorian looked to see Fenrys, with a blank look directed at the king beside her, say "Well, now that the plan is decided and the introductions are out of the way, can we start eating? I am hungry."
At that, Aelin voiced her agreement as Dorian went back to his place beside Manon and the servants brought food to the low table between y/n and Fenrys.
She would have to thank whoever's idea it was to make them sit on the couches because y/n didn't think she would be comfortable with her injured shoulder, sitting on one of those chairs and neither would the warrior sitting in front of her with his injured torso.
The room buzzed with conversation as they ate, the tension gradually easing with each passing moment. Dorian's voice rose occasionally above the others, regaling them with tales that drew laughter and camaraderie. Y/n found herself relaxing in the company of these extraordinary individuals, each with their own stories and struggles, yet united in their commitment to protecting their world.
But y/n noticed that Fenrys barely even touched his food despite claiming to be starved. She sighed as she took the fork and spoon to her hand, "For someone who said he was hungry, you haven't eaten much."
He just kept playing around with his meal, not eating anything "You two were taking too long with your introductions so I decided to do everyone a favor and end it."
Y/n raised an eyebrow as she took a bite of her meal, deciding to test the waters a bit.
"Well that's just rude Fenrys. I actually quite liked Dorian. I can see why Manon is with him. I mean, just look at that face-"
"One more word, I dare you."
The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Fenrys was jealous. In fact, he was burning with it as he stared her down, his gaze turning darker with each second.
Y/n licked her lips, her gaze never wavering from his as she watched him clench and unclench his hands (which seemed to be a habit of his when he is aroused or angry) while staring at her mouth.
"So, so charming too. The way he talks-"
Fenrys got up abruptly, the action causing a slight wince from him before he slowly started walking out of the room. Y/n got up to go after him but Lorcan beat her to it and as much as she hated the giant man for it, she knew they also had an issue to resolve and talk about.
Deciding to give them their moment, she slowly started heading back to her room, wincing whenever her shoulder would move too much.
"Where do you think you're going all on your own with an injury like that?"
Y/n turned around to see Lysandra slowly walking over to her in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest. The shifter reached her and took her uninjured arm, slowly helping her walk.
"I don't need to be coddled at all times, you know."
Lysandra just smirked but did not remove her hands from y/n's arm "I know, and I also know that the last time you woke up injured from a Valg attack and were left all on you own, you decided to venture out into the city with Nox and get yourself nearly killed by another Valg creation."
Y/n scoffed "You make it sound like I knew that would happen. I had no idea that Nox was even out there!"
Lysandra chuckled quietly as they turned a corner. "I know, I am sorry for ever doubting you. I truly like you now. Your commitment to helping us not only because you want to go home but also because you are worried that the Valg pose as a threat to everyone really made me trust you fully."
Y/n sighed, feeling a mixture of gratitude and guilt. Lysandra's support meant a lot to her, especially given the uncertainties they all faced. She leaned slightly on the shifter for support as they walked through the quiet palace corridors.
"I appreciate that, Lysandra," y/n replied earnestly. "I just... I can't sit idly by when there's a chance to make a difference. And after what happened with Nox, I understand the dangers better. And I think I am beginning to understand Elara's weird words."
Lysandra looked at her with a confused expression "Elara? Who in the Gods name is that?"
Y/n chuckled before replying "This woman who has appeared to me twice. Apparently, she is an iron teeth witch who has given me some very cryptic advice and disappeared before I could get answers to all of my questions. I really am stuck, needing to understand more about my powers and connections to this whole thing. And without her, I don't think I ever will."
She felt Lysandra stiffen beside her and stop abruptly, causing y/n to come to a halt as well. She stared at the ground, her eyes calculating as she seemed to slowly digest all that y/n just told her before whispering a "Maybe you don't even need her for answers."
Before y/n could even question her, the shifter quickly let go of y/n and ran back shouting over her shoulder, "Go to your room and wait for me there!"
Y/n, still very shocked and confused at what just happened, climbed up the last few stairs and headed to her bedchamber.
After around thirty minutes, Lysandra burst into her room with a scroll in her hand and Manon beside her. The second her eyes landed on y/n who was sitting on the couch near the window, she took quick strides to reach her. Once she was in front of the witch, Lysandra kneeled down, sitting on the low table in front of y/n and opening up the scroll. Manon also came to quickly stand beside her as she waited to hear what Lysandra had to say.
"This is an ancient text," Lysandra began, her voice filled with reverence. "It speaks of Elara, an iron teeth witch who lived centuries ago. She was not only powerful but also deeply connected to the magical gates that connect our world with others."
Y/n's breath caught in her throat. "Connected to the gates?"
"Yes," Lysandra confirmed, her eyes scanning the parchment. "Elara's abilities were linked to the gates themselves. She could open and close them at will, wielding their power to protect our realm from threats that sought to cross over."
"Wait. How....how do you know all this? How did you know about this scroll?"
Lysandra just looked at Manon, who was still staring at the shifter with a questioning look in her eyes, as she said, "Because Elara has been a legend in our world for as long as any of us can remember. Isn't that right, Manon? Even your grandmother knew of her."
Manon just crossed her arms, seemingly still questioning her, "I am aware of who Elara is. Even Rhiannon Crochan knew of her. Her name would always be whispered around our camps, our stories. What I don't understand is what you told me on the way, about y/n and Elara. Why is she contacting her? I don't mean this in an insulting way but, she has been known as a legend for so long that it is just unbelievable to hear this."
Y/n opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when Lysandra looked down at the scroll and continued, "Yes. Well, she has not only been a legend to Ironteeth Witches, but to the rest of us as well. I had this scroll with me ever since I can remember. I was just so fascinated with her that when I once came across it in one of the antique stores, I had to have it and with time, I began thinking maybe I was a fool for being so obsessed with her, her existence, thinking if she was real or not but....now I realize how she may be real after all."
Y/n's brows hit her hairline as she just gaped at the female in front of her "So you are telling me that I have talked with the most ancient, the most legendary witch of your world?"
"Maybe not even our world."
Both Manon and y/n looked at the shifter with furrowed brows, urging her to explain more.
"Elara was a legend. Her story though mostly unknown, was one full of bravery and sacrifice. She was a chosen one. Her powers being more than just iron teeth and nails. And her name....her name existed for centuries according to the scroll but...."
Y/n saw the realization dawn upon Manon as the witch beside her shifted her position, her eyes getting wider by the second "No way....Lysandra, if we are thinking the same thing then that- that would be impossible."
What? What was she talking about?
Lysandra just shook her head, a smile forming on her face "Would it though? I mean, her name may have stopped being mentioned in this world, in our books and scrolls but what if she went into another world? She did have that connection with the gates after all."
Manon slowly turned her head to y/n as she whispered, "And what if...."
Lysandra also looked at y/n as she said, "What if she went to Prythian, met a man, male, whatever.....had a child with him. A daughter, to be precise."
Manon added quietly, "A winged male and an iron teeth witch who had connection with the gates, who was a wyrdkey of sorts, to them. What could be the odds?"
Realization started to slowly dawn upon her as y/n just shifted her gaze from one female to the other. She laughed uneasily "No you two surely must be delusional. There is not a chance. No way in the seven hells are you suggesting that-"
"You are Elara's daughter." Both the witch and the shifter say at the same time.
No.
No.
It was impossible.
Was it though? You are an iron teeth witch who has wings and an unusual connection to the gates. It could be the only explana-
"Find Manon. Let her know. And find me again when you are ready."
Those were the words Elara had told her when she first appeared to her in an illusion created by the mirror in the crystal caverns.
She needs to go down there again and talk to her, somehow summon her.
Y/n needed answers and she needed them now.
When she came back from her thoughts, she saw both of them staring at her, one with wide eyes and the other with a knowing smile.
Y/n sighed "I- I need to process this. We can discuss this tomorrow."
Lysandra nodded, still smiling, "Of course, see you in the morning."
Then, she got up and dragged a wide eyed Manon who was stuck to her place, towards the door, closing it behind them.
The second the door was closed, y/n jumped from her position and went towards the hidden passageway in her room, getting a small knife, her lamp and a cloak. She removed the floorboard and began her descent.
She went through the same path as the last time. The same narrow ways, damp roads, circular door and the crystal caverns itself.
That last time felt like a lifetime ago, a time when she was still new to the revelations of her own abilities, still grappling with the mysteries of her lineage and the hidden truths of her past. Now, standing before the circular door once more, she felt a sense of resolve and determination, tempered by the wisdom gained through trials and discoveries.
With a steadying breath, y/n pushed open the door, the faint creak of ancient hinges echoing softly in the cavernous silence beyond. As she stepped into the crystal caverns, bathed in their gentle radiance, she knew that this time, she was not just seeking answers—she was ready to uncover the deeper truths that awaited her.
She took the small narrow road to where the mirror was and now standing before it, she had no idea what to do. Y/n stared and stared some more. She needed to think this through. How do you call Elara? The first time she appeared to y/n was because of an illusion that the mirror created and the second time was when y/n got attacked and fell unconscious later on.
So....what does she do now?
With a sigh, y/n said out loud while looking at her reflection in the ancient mirror, "I know. I know the truth now. You are my mother, aren't you?"
No answer, no reply. Nothing.
She still continued, "When we met for the first time, you told me to come find you when I was ready. I think I am ready now. Ready to see you......mother."
Before she could react, y/n saw as her surroundings become a blur, shifting until she was once more on the beach but this time, instead of the moon, there was the sun shining above, casting its glow over the waters.
And then, there was Elara, coming towards y/n with her white flowy dress and beautiful smile.
When the witch reached y/n, they didn't say anything to one another for a short moment, preferring to just look into one anothers gaze. Elara's eyes held a depth that seemed to reflect the eons she had witnessed, yet they softened with a tenderness as she regarded y/n. The wind whispered through the air, carrying the faint scent of salt and seaweed as they stood on the sun-kissed beach.
"My child," Elara finally spoke, her voice gentle yet resonant with an underlying power. "You have grown strong and resilient, despite the trials fate has woven into your path."
Y/n's tried to hold back her impending tears at the adoring way the woman called her. Instead, she whispered in a quiet tone, "Why....why didn't you tell this to me from the first time? Why did you leave me alone in that cruel place, in that monsters hands? Why wasn't my dad with me either? Why did you abandon me? Why- just why?!"
"My child," Elara began, her voice a gentle breeze that carried both warmth and sadness, "the reasons are not simple, nor are they easy to explain. But know this: every decision I made was out of love for you and a deep understanding of the dangers that surrounded us."
Y/n's eyes welled with tears, but she held Elara's gaze firmly, needing to hear the truth, however painful it might be. "I wish I could have been there with you," Elara continued, her voice soft yet steady. "But there are forces at play that even I cannot fully control. The realm of the Valg, their insidious presence, their hunger for power... It demanded sacrifices, and I made the hardest one of all by leaving you in that world."
"Why didn't you prepare me? Why did you let me believe I was alone?" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hurt.
Elara's expression softened further, regret etching lines on her face. "I wanted to protect you from the knowledge that would burden your heart and soul. I feared that if you knew too soon, it would consume you. And your father..." She paused, a shadow passing over her features. "Your father sacrificed himself to keep you safe."
Y/n's eyes widened with both shock and confusion, "W-what....what do you mean?"
Elara sighed and gently took y/n's hand in hers, caressing it "I fell in love, y/n. Your father and I loved each other so much that we couldn't imagine a life without the other. I thought....I thought that because I was in a different world, I would be able to live a normal life. We got a house in the very otskirts of Illyria, then we had you and you....you were the joy of our life my witchling. For a time, we were happy and at peace, just the three of us. And foolish me thought that this happiness could last forever. Oh how wrong I was."
Elara closed her eyes and inhaled sharply before continuing again, "Somehow, someway, the Valgs found me. Erawan found me. It was in the middle of the night when I felt their presence not so far off from where we used to stay. I quickly woke up your father....Marx, and told him what was going on. He ordered me to take you and run, told me that he would meet us on the edge of the mountains and we would run away together. The three of us. He hugged and kissed both you and me before I ran away with you in my arms while he stayed behind. Little did I know, that would be the last time I would ever see him again."
Elara's eyes were teary now as she gave a sad smile to her daughter "Marx never came. And I knew....I knew that he did not make it. But I had to go back, I had to. I brought this disaster with me. However, I also needed to keep you safe. So, I put you in front of a door of the first proper looking house I could find. I had no time to think, no time to plan. I placed a protective spell over you, kissed and hugged you for one last time, said my blessings over you, and then I was gone. If I only knew what a monster I was giving you to, my witchling. And for that, I am sorry. I am so sorry my heart. But I couldn't let them know that I had a daughter. That I had someone I cared for. Or else, they would have come for you as well, which they seem to be doing now."
Y/n couldn't believe this. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, what her mother was telling her. Her father.....her brave father had secrificed himself to keep his family safe.
With a shaky breath, y/n's grip on her mother's hand tightened as she asked "And did you....did you find him?"
Elara slowly nodded her head, eyes seemingly lost in the terrible memory of finding her lovers body in whatever condition it was. She didn't say more and y/n didn't ask more, seemingly afraid of hearing just how she found his body.
But she did ask, her voice shaky now due to the tears that began to fall, "Where...where did you go? Where are you?"
Elara's eyes softened with sorrow as she gently squeezed y/n's hand. "After I left you, I wandered through dimensions, seeking refuge where the Valg could not reach. I sought allies, learned ancient magics, and built defenses against their relentless pursuit. But with every step I took to protect you, I grew farther from the life I once knew."
She paused, her voice thick with emotion. "Eventually, I found solace in a realm untouched by the Valg's corruption. It is a place where time flows differently, where the energies are harmonious and the darkness cannot penetrate. There, I have been watching over you, my dear, waiting for the right moment."
Elara's gaze was filled with maternal love. "You are stronger than I could have ever imagined, y/n. You carry within you the blood of our lineage, a legacy of resilience and magic. And now, as the Valg threaten once more, you must end them completely. My power of connecting to the gates, connecting with the Book of Breathings is installed in you as well. The book knew that you were my descendant from the moment it fell into Rhysands hands. Even though Erawan is dead, somehow the Valgs are returning. You must figure that out. They felt your presence, your true lineage the second the book transported you."
So much was going on. Y/n had so much to say and ask but all she asked was, "How can I bring you back to me....mother."
Elaras eyes lit up at that before she raised her hands and gently caressed her daughter's cheek "You can not. I waited all this time for you to finally realize who you were, what your destiny was and now....now that I have guided you, it is time for me to go-"
"No! Are you mad?! We just reunited! I can not loose you-"
"You will never loose me, my Braveheart. You will always have me, my presence will always guide you on your journey. But I have lived for so long, it is time for me to rest as well, time to rejoin with my love, your father, Marx."
Y/n was fully crying by now, as she agressively shook her head, "No! Mother, please!"
Elara leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before hugging her and whispering, "Your father and I have loved you from the moment we laid our eyes on you. And we will keep loving you for eternity, our witchling. We are so proud of you, of how strong, resilient, and brave you are. Of how you endured so much and yet came out even stronger. Always remember who you are, what your power is and end them. Once and for all, end them."
And with that, y/n's surrounding began to blur once more as she felt herself falling and falling until her eyes popped open and she was....in her room. Sitting on the bed. Wasn't she in the crystal caverns? How is she here?
But y/n didn't care. Didn't ponder over those questions as the memory of what just happened took over her mind, making her silently weep into her arms.
Fenrys was frustrated. At what? he didn't know.
At whom? He did know. At himself.
He doesn't understand this....this attraction, this pull he has towards y/n. Whenever they are in the same room, his eyes somehow end up on her, his body somehow finds its way to wherever she is. Whenever she is hurt or in danger? He turns into this violent killer who only thinks of one thing: Protect her. Kill everyone else.
It was starting to get frustrating how he felt all kinds of emotions towards her. How his mind began thinking of her.
Last night during dinner, he was annoyed with how Dorian kept on talking to her. Fenrys knew that Dorian didn't see y/n in that way, after all....he had his eyes on the witch and only on her. Even if they both refused it, everyone and their mother saw how those two were hopelessly in love with one another.
So why did he want to punch Dorian in the face when he saw how the king was the one to make her laugh and not him?
And then, during dinner, y/n's teasing just added to his growing frustration and lust. The way she talked, the way she purposefully kept licking her lips made him want to just take her then and there, in front of everyone.
Fenrys knew that this was wrong, that she would leave sooner or later so feeling this possessive, this claiming need within him was just stupid. But could he stop it? No, no he couldn't.
Last night, after he stood up and left, he saw her get up too and he wanted her to follow him. Fenrys knew that if she would follow him, he wouldn't have been able to keep his hands to himself this time. That he would have made his fantasies about her come true. But then, Lorcan came after him and Fenrys saw how y/n contemplated on following him before clearly choosing not to.
He did feel disappointed but that was forgotten the second Lorcan caught up with him and they began walking side by side through the halls of the palace. He had apologized to Fenrys and Fenrys was absolutely shocked that Lorcan of all people was apologizing. Fenrys could have asked for forgiveness as well, for what he did to his lifelong companion but....he felt no guilt or remorse for protecting y/n's honor, for getting justice for her.
Gods, Fenrys, since when have you gone this mad and caused chaos over a female. That's right, never. So why her? Why now?
These were the questions he kept asking himself while going back to the palace after his morning training when he heard another roar. And no, this wasn't Abraxos because he had already memorized the wyvern's noises by heart. This was another wyvern, this was...Fenrys lifted his head skywards as he saw....Petrah Blueblood.
He remembers the witch whom he came to care for. The poor girl went through so much, just like Manon. He remembers how after the war, when he would go to the Witch Kingdom, he would see Petrah who was now Manon's second in command and how she would still mourn the loss of her wyvern, Keelie. Killed by Iskra Yellowlegs.
This wyvern was one of the few who hatched after the war and Petrah was immediately drawn to it. She raised it all on her own and it grew up to be very large. It was also a female whom she named Luna.
But, what was she doing here now? That's when he also saw Manon and Abraxos in the opening, waiting for her and Luna to land.
He approached Manon while Petrah and Luna were still a little bit away, and spoke first, "Well, this is certainly not what I expected to see first thing in the morning."
Manon just crossed her arms, still looking towards wherever Petrah was in the sky, as she replied, "I needed Petrah with us for this hunt. Her wyvern is very good with smell, she has the unique abilitiy to scent things that are miles and miles away. Besides, Petrah said that she had news she wanted to tell me face to face....and maybe she was also curious about y/n."
He saw how at the mention of her name, Manon's face turned amused, how her eyes held a mixture of wonder and pride. She clearly was thinking of something and Fenrys desperately wanted to know what because it involved y/n but just as he was about to ask, Luna landed right next to Abraxos who was seemingly growing smitten with the female wyvern as they rumbled at one another and Petrah came down.
She and Manon exchanged their witchy greeting, whatever that is before Petrah smiled at Fenrys "How nice to see you again."
Fenrys returned her smile with one of his own "Nice to see you doing well, Petrah."
The witch nodded her gratitude before looking back at Manon "One of our witches was somehow working for the Valg, the second I found out about this, I ordered for her capture and questioning, but she wouldn't talk."
Manon just raised an eyebrow "Was she infested with Valg-"
"No. She was working for them, willingly. Why? I don't know."
"Don't tell me you killed her without getting any answers out of her first."
Petrah just smirked at her queen "You are really underestimating me now, Manon. I gave the order for her to be tortured just last night and immediately flew over here to deliver the news. Whatever information the witches get out of her now, they will send the news immediately."
The queen just nodded her head while Fenrys asked, "How did you even find out about this?"
Petrah shrugged her shoulders "I have my ways, wolf."
"There will be a ball tonight, keep your eyes open and alert at all times. Anything might happen."
Petrah nodded at her queen as Fenrys just said his farewell to the witches before heading towards his room for a much needed bath.
Y/n slept through the whole day. The whole day! waking up when it was already sunset. Clearly, all the events of the last fews days have drained her beyond repair. And what she found out about last night.....she cried until she physically couldn't anymore and probably fell asleep.
When she awoke, there was a note right next to her on the bed:
You must be really tired especially after what we told you last night but, if you wake up, remember there is a ball tonight late in the afternoon.
Hope you're well,
Lysandra
Oh, yes! The ball! she completely forgot!
Y/n noticed that there was only an hour until the start of the event and immediately jumped out of her bed, hissing loudly when her shoulder hurt from the movement. But, she quickly recovered and headed towards her closet in search of an appropriate dress.
Fourty minutes later, y/n stood in the center of her room, her hair made and jeweleries shining as she admired her beautiful dress.
The dress was crafted from a flowing, soft fabric like silk, in a shade of deep midnight blue that shimmers subtly under the light. The neckline is modest yet elegant, gently framing the collarbones without revealing too much. The sleeves are three-quarter length, providing coverage while allowing the injured shoulder freedom of movement.
The waist is cinched with a delicate sash, adding a touch of definition without restricting comfort. As the dress cascades down, it drapes gracefully to the floor, accentuating the figure without being form-fitting.
The simplicity of the design is elevated by intricate embroidery along the neckline and cuffs, catching the eye with its understated elegance. This dress not only exudes charm and sophistication but also ensures ease of movement.
With a final look at herself, y/n left her room and descended the stairs, heading towards the event.
Twenty minutes later, the room was filled with people whom, y/n guessed to be very important. When she arrived, she saw most of Aelin's court already here, had a round of drinks with Lysandra and Lorcan, danced a little with Eva and Elide, got on Aedion and Rowan's nerves, watched together with Yrene how Aelin greets her guests, talked a little more with Dorian and Chaol, and met Manon who had another witch next to her, Petrah Blueblood.
She was also very beautiful. Her skin was as pale as Manon's but adorned with freckles, had a long golden, flowy hair and had deep blue eyes. When Manon introduced them, Petrah gave y/n a genuine smile and told her how happy she was to meet her. How y/n was known as a winged ironteeth whom every witch wanted to meet now that Manon mentioned her to them.
Y/n felt honored, grateful but surprised and a little flustered as well as she said her thanks and chatted a little more with the witches before excusing herself in search of someone else. In search of him. She didn't see Fenrys yet but she knew that he was in the room, watching her. She felt his eyes on her once again. Seems like they had this thing where he would watch her and she would put on a show for him.
But then, their eyes met and y/n felt weak in the knees. Fenrys was there, standing in the corner with a drink in his hand, watching her with an intense gaze. He was so handsome, hair put in a half bun, some strands falling in front of his handsome face, his tailored coat of deep midnight blue was interwoven with threads that shimmer subtly under the light. The coat is fitted at the shoulders and chest, tapering slightly at the waist before flaring out slightly over sturdy trousers of the same hue.
Beneath the coat, a high-collared shirt in a lighter shade of blue peeks out, adding a hint of contrast and sophistication. The sleeves of the shirt are gathered at the wrists with intricate embroidery in silver and his boots are sturdy leather, polished to a deep sheen.
He was beyond handsome, beyond attractive. He was otherworldly, seemingly crafted out of the finest form of marble. She really wanted to do less than appropriate things to him right now and from the way his eyes were eating her whole, he was thinking the same.
Y/n was so entranced with him that she failed to notice Nox Owens come and stand beside her, offering her a drink.
"And so we meet again, my partner in hunting Valgs."
She hesitantly pulled her gaze away from Fenrys and turned to loook at the man beside her, taking the drink in his hand while thanking him.
Y/n took a sip of the drink, feeling the cool liquid soothe her parched throat. Nox stood beside her, his posture relaxed yet alert, his eyes scanning the room with a practiced ease.
She said, "Good to see you're doing well."
Nox looked at her, a smirk forming on his handsome face, "Well, if the Valgs want me dead, they have got to try harder than pushing me onto the ground."
"Thank you, for everything Nox, without your help, I don't think we could've survived that monster."
He just shrugged his shoulder and was seemingly about to say something when she felt Fenrys right behind her. His chest was touching her back, causing goosebumps to rise all over her body.
He said behind her, in that voice of whiskey and sin, "I need to talk to you."
Wthout even waiting for a reaction from her or Nox, Fenrys took her drink, put it on the nearby table, grabbed her arm, and dragged her out of the ball.
He found an unusued, dark room and entered it, still holding her by the arm before closing the door. Y/n ripped her arm away from his grip before looking at him, her arms crossed "Fenrys what in the seven hells are you doing?!"
He didn't reply, his gaze just intensified, those wild eyes zoning in on her lips. While that action did a lot of things to her body, y/n was still angry at him.
"Fenrys! Look at me, what is wro-"
Before she could even continue, he took two quick strides to reach her and tilted her face toward him with his fingers.
All the air was sucked out of her body as y/n realized their position. His face was mere inches away from her, their bodies nearly touching, his lips right in front of hers.
He was clearly holding himself back, he was restraining himself. And for some foolish reason, she didn't want him to.
"Kiss me"
Y/n realized her words only a second after she said them, but she wasn't ashamed, no. She wanted this. Wanted him. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would think about her actions, tomorrow she would be a responsible, levelheaded female once more. But just for tonight, in this dark room, this would be their little secret.
Fenrys' eyes widened, his chest heaving, "Y/n..."
"Kiss me, Fenrys."
And he did. He kissed her so quickly, their lips meeting in an urgent collision. It wasn't a soft, loving, intimate kiss. No, it was rough, needy and full of lust. His hand went to her waist, bringing her closer to him, their bodies joined as one, the other held her by the back of her neck, bringing her closer to him.
Y/n's hands were in his hair as she kissed him just as urgently. He pushed her towards the wall, caging her between himself and the stone behind her.
It was during this intense moment that a nock came on the door.
"Y/n? Are you there? Come quickly, we need to talk!"
It was Lysandra, her voice shattering the growing lust between them, bringing them back to reality. Fenrys' eyes widened as he pushed away from her and looked towards the door.
"Fenrys-"
"This never should've happened. This is wrong."
Without even looking at her, he went towards the door, unlocked it and pushed past an amused Lysandra, heading towards the main doors.
Y/n barely had time to recollect her thoughts when Lysandra just looked at her with raised eyebrows and a small smile, saying "We have a guest, specifically asked for you. Says he is from Prythian."
What?!
Y/n just nodded "Show me"
They went towards the sitting room at the other end of the hall and once Lysandra opened the door, y/n thought she was seeing things.
Lucien was here. Lucien.
It was actually him. He wasn't a transparent ghost like Amren was, he was here, in his physical body.
He looked awful. His hair a mess of twigs and mud, his clothes crumpled and dirty, his eyes wide as he looked at her.
Everyone except Rowan and Aelin was in the room, clearly because they were the hosts of the ball, and of course Fenrys was nowehere to be seen either.
She would deal with him later. Now, now as she took this redhead in-
His hands, they were holding the Book of Breathings.
Lucien came closer to her "Y/n!"
Y/n's shock was written all over her face as she looked at him with wide eyes, "Lucien! What in the Mothers name are you doing here?!"
His eyes looked all over the room, at everyone, and then came back to her as well as he said "Y/n.....Mother above, finally....I-"
Y/n gently put her hand on his shoulder "Lu, what- how did you find me? How did you get the book?"
He just sighed and closed his eyes, "You might want to sit down for this."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/n: Omg! Our fox boy is here! I wonder what will happen next ;)
Taglist: @ladespedidas @mis-lil-red @going-through-shit @kaitttttttt @blackgirlmagicforever
@acotar-writing @paleidiot @snoopyspace @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch
@wallacewillow0773638 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @bunnyredgirl
@fullmoon-94 @thecraziestcrayon @idkwahr
@sstrohma @optimisticbabydreamer @rcarbo1 @batboygirlie
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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago
Text
Throne of Glass
Tumblr media
Manon
After Flight
Ride (SMUT)
Stitches
More Pink
Feeling Blue
Drop It (SMUT)
Iron Nails and Pale Skin
Just the Sniffles
Back With You (SMUT)
First Flight
Morning Coffee
Fenrys
Reunited
Learning (SMUT)
Book Delivery
Dorian
Right Where You Left Me
Dorian vs Echo
Once Upon a Time
Literally Obsessed hc
Rowan
Cold Shoulder
Learning (SMUT)
Keep You Cold
Ddlg headcanon
Fluffy relationship hc
Lorcan
Bite Me (SMUT)
Gavriel
Secrets
Light in the Dark
Cadre series
Cadre (SMUT)
Not on Speaking Terms
Rowaelin
Dating headcanon
Pregnant reader headcanon
Eras Tour headcanon
Modern headcanon
Stay Still (SMUT)
Cured By You
Big Brother
I’ll Always Have You
Manorian
Lay With Me?
Elorcan Daughter x Rowaelin reader
Cardigan
Anything For Her
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infinitedivinity · 6 months ago
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thinking about doing dorian's makeup :3
he's laid out on your bed, and you're sitting on top of him. his hands are gripping your hips and waist as you talk him through what you're doing.
"close your eyes." you tell him, dipping your ring finger in some sparkly blue cosmetics. "what's that for?" dorian asks, keeping his eyes open as he looks down at the pallet. "it's for your eyes." you try to explain. when he kinda just stares at you, you give him a light smack on his shoulder. "i said close!"
"yes, ma'am." he laughs, finally closing his eyes. you smear the blue shadow over his eyelids and feel there's no need to apply a dark coat over his lashes since they're already so long.
"you're all done!" you grin, staring at him as he opens his eyes. he blinks away extra powder, and you move to help him sit up. "do i look like a princess?" he puckers his lips, blinking his lashes at you. you roll your eyes as you smile, "yes. a very pretty one."
"obviously." he stands up to look at himself in the mirror.
HE LOVES IT. he literally falls in love with himself.
now you're stuck watching him kiss at the mirror and touch up his hair for hours.
it's late, late into the night when you finally convince him to take his makeup off.
"can we do this again?" he asks as you run a warm, damp rag over his cheeks. "sure. i'll teach you next time." you reply sleepily.
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