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#eris vanserra/reader
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Bow For Your High Lady
All smut, no plot. Switch Eris maybe? (idrk what that means also am shit at writing sub Eris - I TRIED THO OK) you know its hard for him to relinquish control ;)
Warnings: all smut, edging :)
Word Count: 7.2K 
Eris had a particular affection for replaying the sounds of your moans while he went about his day as High Lord of the Autumn Court. 
During training, all he kept seeing was your ass shaking against his hips as he pounded into you from behind. Hell, he nearly jerked himself off during lunch when he started thinking about how tight your pussy was. In the High Lord’s meeting, instead of listening to Rhysand drone on about that Nightmare bullshit, Eris imagined you bouncing on his cock in front of all of them, crying out for your High Lord. 
Gods, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d have you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner - dessert, too. In fact it was for dessert that he usually ate you out until he was satisfied enough to lick the plate clean. 
But you were somehow insatiable. Always begging him for more, more, more; you were all over him. In front of the court, watching him sit tall in his throne, long legs spread wide and outstretched before him, you could barely wait until the last Fae had left the room before you’d unbuttoned his pants and sucked him dry. He’d fucked you slowly as you read over his policy changes - he drew lazy circles over your clit until you came, stumbling over the word ‘Autumn’ over and over again. Territorial male. 
You even rode him while he had breakfast, and you licked the strawberry jam down his chest while the tea on the tabletop had gone cold. 
Almost every night, Eris came to your bedroom run ragged from a day spent as High Lord - between meetings, travel, training, and courtier bullshit, he was absolutely drained. But while the High Lord secretly loved when you babied him, relishing in your time spent relaxing in a hot bath, rubbing his shoulders, and sucking his sweet cock, the male loved to take control of you. There was something about watching you on your knees, holding your ass over his face while you rode his tongue, or watching his cum drip out of your full mouth, that had the male feeling more powerful than when he sat on that godsdamned throne. 
You’d spent the day in your bedroom planning your strategy for the upcoming evening. The past few days spent without Eris, leaving you in a cold bed with nothing to do. But you’d already done it all: horseback riding, sword training, baking, even embroidering. The fact of the matter was that you were bored. 
And you wanted to try something. 
It was the kind of thing you’d seen so rarely in your past however-many-years spent with Eris. A drunken night that left him in near shambles. He begged for you, called out for you - he was just about shaking. 
And by the Cauldron, you were determined to make it happen again. 
The whole day was spent readying your bedchamber for your mate’s arrival. Being in the Day Court for the past three days would ensure he’d return in a sour mood - perhaps with a slight sunburn, as well. You’d allowed yourself to be pampered; while the high maintenance High Lord was away, there were a few extra hands to dote on you. So you’d been dressed in your laciest nightgown - a short red one - and lathered in the finest salves, the amber and vanilla ones you knew Eris loved so much. The wine had been set out, to which you’d helped yourself to the first glass - something for the nerves, you’d told yourself. 
The plan was foolproof, it was designed for the male you knew better than the back of your hand. But one wrong move could set him off, have the roles reversed, and would leave Eris pounding you into the mattress all night long. 
Not like that would be such a bad thing. 
You had timed it perfectly, you turned on the hot water as soon as your bedroom door opened. You heard him kick the heavy door shut with his boot, the thick chains and locks being drawn over the wood. You knew his routine perfectly, he’d already begun loosening his harness and belts, dropping the sword from his hip to the floor with a heavy clang. He stopped short of the bed, pausing in front of the bathroom door, left ajar just enough so that he could hear the water running. 
He leaned forward, peering through the crack between the wall and door. You tried your best to look sultry, calling on the confidence that glass of wine you’d already downed was supposed to give you. You peered up at your mate over the rim of the clear glass, sipping on a bit of the fruity drink as you watched him shift his footing and push the door open. “Getting started without me?” His hands fell to the front of his jacket, beginning to unfasten the buttons that held his many layers together. 
You gazed up at him from under your lashes, the closer he got, the more you had to tilt your head upwards to face him. “I grew tired of waiting - ” he stopped so close in front of you that his knuckles brushed your barely clothed chest as he worked down his jacket. “ - My Lord,” you added for good measure. 
He smirked, eyeing you up and down like the predator taking in his prey, right before the chase. 
A chase he was in for, indeed. 
“I couldn’t wait for you,” you whispered, gaze falling as you watched him pluck the wine from your grasp. Your eyes tracked how he abandoned his unbuttoning, taking a large sip of the wine instead. You sensed the switch, picking up where he left off, finishing his jacket and shrugging it from his shoulders, dropping it to the floor behind him. You’d almost cursed the tailor for making it so tight around his broad shoulders - nearly impossible to remove. But when you watched him from afar, dressed in the tightest fitting, most extravagant suits, you’d thanked the tailor personally. 
You felt his eyes on you as you continued, fiery gaze washing over you from your hair and face to your dress and cleavage. He let out a soft sight when you removed another layer, watching as your arms pushed your breasts together, moving around just enough for him to peer down the gap the silk left against your smooth skin. You rubbed your legs together, itching to touch the male as you removed his last shirt. 
You took the liberty to undo his pants, letting them fall in a pool around his ankles. But you let him kick them away and remove his own boots as you shut off the water and fetched the wine bottle from the counter. You took a hearty swig before you set the spout against Eris’s glass, refilling much more than the appropriate amount. He watched your every move closely, knowing each step you took was calculated. 
You smiled broadly before downing another sip straight from the bottle. “Animalistic tonight, are we?” Eris took a drink from the glass, pulling you tight against his hip as the male was now fully naked.
“I thought you liked when I was cheeky.” You could only feign so much innocence. 
“A minx is what you are.” His hand fisted at the red lace that barely covered your ass. 
“And you’re nothing but a hungry fox.”
His head dipped down to your neck, his breath tickling the outer shell of your ear. “I’ll ravish you like one then.” He nipped the pointed tip of your ear, but you found the strength to refrain from throwing your head back and letting him have his way with attacking your neck. 
Instead, you tisked and took a step back, drawing your fingers across your collarbone to drop the thin straps of your gown. “Not tonight, you won’t.”
Eris’s red eyebrows shot up in surprise. But, never a male to argue with an undressing female, he sat back on the edge of the tub and watched as you gracefully lowered your gown, opting to run your hands over your silhouette and across your breasts. He watched with adoration, taking large sips of that delicious faewine. When you’d fully lost your shift, you took two steps closer to him, where you stood directly in front of him between those long legs, with your hands gently placed on either of his shoulders. He tilted his head back to gaze up at you, looking nearly lust drunk already. “And what do you have planned for me tonight?”
Clever male, always knew when you were up to no good. You leaned forward, just to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, ignoring his pursed lips. “You don’t want to know.”
Your mate nearly growled when you stepped back, just as his warm hands found purchase on your hips. But he’d be good and play your little games, letting you work him up - even though he’d been horny the moment he walked into the bedroom, even before he’d seen you in the bathroom wearing the red nightgown. 
You took his hands in yours, pulling him up to his feet so you could step into the hot water together. Eris, always unphased by the water, despite the steam that was curling over the surface, made it into the bath first, not without grabbing the wine bottle. You took a second longer, needing to adjust to the heat before you could fully submerge yourself in front of your mate. 
You let your back fall against the curve of the tub, relaxing fully as your shoulders fell into the warmth. You dropped your head against the rim of the cool porcelain, huffing a sigh of contentment. By the gods, you could feel his gaze burning into you from across the tub. 
You peeked your eyes open, dead on with your assumption, as the male sat across from you with those dark brows furrowed and a slight pout adorning those pink lips of his. Even from where you were sitting across from him, you could see the pink splotched onto his cheeks and nose, where the sun had kissed him a little too much in the Day Court. 
“Why are you across from me?” He looked perplexed, so utterly bewildered at why you’d sit that far from him. To be fair, your normal routine was to lay against his chest, let him wrap his arms around you or clutch your breasts. “I want you here.”
You cocked a brow in mock confusion. “On your lap?”
“On my dick.”
He could not be more serious. He thought it was going to be one of those nights. “You can’t get everything you want all the time, Eris.”
You shut your eyes and let your head rest against the edge once more. “When you’re High Lord you can.” His hand found your ankle under the water, and you swore he was burning hotter than normal. 
“And what of your High Lady?” You didn’t move, not even a flinch as he dragged your ankle closer to him. 
He smirked - you heard it in his voice. “She better know what’s good for her and get over here.”
You were willing to play a bit. 
You rose to your knees and waded through the water, stopping just in front of your mate. His legs were bent, spread against the walls of the tub such that your only option was to crawl into his lap. So you hooked your legs around his and straddled his waist, careful to barely touch him as you leaned chest to chest with him. “This is the kind of welcome home I get from you?” He reprimanded, hands falling to your waist. 
“I don’t know what you mean, my love,” you whispered, reaching an arm behind him to grab the soap from a stool beside the tub. He watched you with narrowed eyes, eyeing how your hands worked the soap into a lather and began their work across his scarred chest. 
“You’re not as coy as you think you are,” he challenged, bending his legs more so his knees poked just out of the water, forcing you onto his lap fully, dick pressed against your ass. 
You involuntarily rocked, steadying yourself as you pretended not to feel his cock hardening underneath you. “I think you’ll find later - ” your head dipped forward to press a light kiss in the corner of his jaw, just where it met his neck under his ear. You licked a long stripe up the shell of his ear, leaning in close to whisper the rest of your sentence. “That I am.”
He huffed a shaky sigh, unashamedly grabbing your ass with both hands, trying to rock you against his dick. 
But you simply tutted, firmly planting yourself against his toned thighs. You continued across his chest, taking his arm in your hand and cleaning up and down his skin with the other. His eyes were narrowed the whole time, clearly unamused with your current plan of not fucking him. “Not even a kiss hello,” he huffed, releasing an exaggerated sigh when you switched which arm of his you were cleaning. 
“Aww my poor baby,” you cooed, unable to hide your smile as you dipped your head down to capture his pouting lips with a kiss. “Better now?”
He shook his head, squeezing your ass and trying to pull you closer. You could stifle your giggle as you met his hungry lips once more. He was clearly more than ready, turning your soft kiss into a smattering of teeth and tongue. You let him have his way with you, just for a moment, since you already knew the state you’d have the poor male in soon enough. 
As Eris continued his assault of kisses, you’d abandoned your soap and dragged your hand down his chest. His abdomen convulsed as you slid your fingertip down the center of his stomach and just over the fine hairs that led to the base of his cock. His hands flew up to your face, silently begging for you to stay still and continue on with your path. He tilted your head to the side, and as you gasped for breath, he met you in the middle with another sloppy kiss. 
You lifted your hips to let his cock spring up below you to rest on his abs, a strangled sigh escaped the High Lord when you ran just a finger up and down the base. You braced your other hand on his shoulder, nails digging into his hardened skin, resisting the urge to run your wet pussy over his cock instead. 
But it was about him and what you’d planned on doing to him later. You wanted him needy. 
And by the Cauldron, he already was. 
Your fingertip circled the head of his dick and brushed over the slit, earning a gasp from the male. You smirked, the strangled choking sound muffled deep in the back of his throat. He’d smack your ass if he could - the water in the tub doing him no justice - so he opted for a quick prick of fire against your skin. 
With a strangled squeal, you lurched forward in his arms, rubbing against him so faintly you had no other choice but to fully stop on his lap and get your momentary fix. He smirked happily, satisfied with his little plan. You rocked your hips just for a moment, his cock nestled so nicely between your legs, brushing against your clit perfectly as you shifted in the water. It slid against your wet cunt perfectly and you could feel your stomach tighten in anticipation.
But with a smack to his chest you lifted, rubbing your pussy for a second before grabbing hold of his dick right at the base. He took a sharp breath through gritted teeth, watchful eyes glazed over in bliss. You worked your hand up and down, palm dragging against the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock. Your other hand kept you balanced against him, keeping your chests pushed apart so he could watch your breasts bounce as you increased your speed jacking him off. 
What started with nothing but a gentle caress, you worked his shaft until you saw his muscles tense and his eyes squeeze shut. You brushed your thumb over the tip of his dick, but before you could coerce him any further, you slowed down your movements. 
It was painfully slow, as far as Eris was concerned, so close to just getting off right there in your hand - all gone as you stopped your hand and gripped the base of his dick. “I would have gotten you off after, you know,” he muttered, hands leaving your waist instead finding purchase on either side of the tub, gripping the tub’s rim until his knuckles turned white. 
“I know.” You gently kissed his lips, which he felt too angry to return, but in the end he couldn’t refuse. But soon enough you were standing over him, droplets of water falling from every curve and dip of your body. It was moments like that where Eris felt like the luckiest male in the world - to have you all to himself…it almost felt selfish. 
But he was a greedy male. 
And a confused male, too, as he watched you step out and run a towel over your legs, haphazardly drying yourself enough to slip into the ornate green robe that hung on the wall. You fisted the neck of the wine bottle (Eris never wished he was an inanimate object so badly in his life) and strolled out of the bathroom, offering him a wink. “Come out here,” you’d called from the drawing room. 
Eris cursed, pushing himself from the cooling water and creating a bubble of warmth around himself. If he was feeling generous, maybe he’d let you in on his warmth - he knew you had to be freezing in the room with wet hair and barley dry legs. Although he would enjoy watching you shiver, watching your nipples harden as you begged for him to warm you, with his powers or his cock - he’d have to weigh his options. 
But as he sauntered into the bedroom, not even bothering to dry himself off, he found you leaning against the back of the couch, robe opened, leaving only the cleavage and a strip of your stomach, all the way down to your cunt, which Eris knew was just begging for him. You gestured to the sofa before you, taking a long sip of wine as the High Lord sat. You planted the bottle in his hand, pulling him backwards, ushering him to lean back against the plush cushion. 
With a hearty sigh, he compiled, dropping his head against the back of the couch, letting you run your hands all over his chest. “You need to relax,” you breathed, moving your hands upwards towards his shoulders, kneading away the knots buried deep in his muscles. 
His eyes trained carefully upward, he watched your breasts from where you leaned over him. The front of your robe doing nothing to hide anything - he wasn’t sure why you’d even donned it in the first place. He reached his hands up, just grazing the underside of your breasts before you grabbed his hands and placed them back down in his lap. You leaned forward just enough for him to find the perfect open spot to bite the soft flesh, sharp white canines biting into your sensitive breast. He smirked, licking his way over your skin as you straightened, hovering over him once more. “No touching.”
“If you’re going to be doing all this, love, I need a whiskey.”
You smiled down at the High Lord, drawing a hand through his red hair and ruffling it. He watched intently as you crossed the room to the desk, where his liquor was ready and waiting alongside a few empty rock glasses. You offered him the drink as you strolled back to him, trading him for the bottle resting beside his thigh. 
With another swig you were back at it, massaging his tender freckled skin. He wanted to pretend he didn’t love it, that he didn’t miss your hands all over him. The High Lord’s meeting that he returned from had really drained him, arguing over policy and having to listen to the useless High Lords brag about their own annoying courts. He wanted nothing more than to come home and have you all over him, doting on his every need, touching him just as you were.
He loosed a sigh, sipping on his whiskey before he set his head back, arms going loose in his lap. With one hand, you took the drink, taking a small sip of the burning liquor before setting it to the side. You continued working out the knots in his shoulders, pressing your fingers into the ridges of his muscles, holding your palm to his hard chest. His rib cage expanded slowly, deflating as your fingertips traced the ridges of his abs, then hitched once more when you traced over the outline of his hip bones. 
His hard cock twitched as your finger traced along the underside, stopping just before you could swipe the precum seeping from the tip. He whined, reaching out for your wrist hovering right above his lap. “Please, (Y/N),” he groaned. “Don’t toy with me.”
With a coy smile you rounded the corner of the sofa, dropping before the male, between his parted legs. “Let me have my fun, Eris.” You gazed up at him from under your eyelashes, keeping your brows low to convey the gravity of your plan. 
But he leveled your stare, lifting his hand to stroke the side of your face. Warmth leached into your skin, a warning, perhaps. Stop teasing. Eris’s signatured smirk crawled onto those plush lips, as he began fisting his cock in his other hand. “You want to do it yourself?” You whispered, staring at the red tip of his cock, the precum that had been smeared across his entire dick. 
He simply shook his head, cupping your jaw, pressing his thumb and fingers against your cheek until your mouth opened in an O. You obliged the male, staring deep into his red eyes as you stuck your tongue out for him. 
You swore you could feel your body temperature rise as you watched the shit eating grin sprawl over Eris’s lips. He bit his bottom lip with those perfectly sharp teeth and hissed as he tapped his dick against your wet tongue, slapping the salty tip against your flesh. 
You moaned, capturing the tip in your mouth and sucking softly - an act that had the male throwing his head back against the couch. You licked up his dick, leaving a sloppy line of spit falling down to his balls as you dragged your mouth along his cock. 
He’d once told you how much he detested masturbating when he’d been called away from the court. It’s not the same - your pretty pussy has spoiled me. It ensured he’d return home from travel pent up and ready to fuck the shit out of you. 
But you wanted to take care of him, to have him be the one begging for mercy while you had your way with him. His chest had flushed as his breathing grew shallow, his hand crawling upwards to fist your hair, pulling at it each time your tongue swiped around the head of his cock. “That’s it, (Y/N),” Eris breathed, hips leaving the couch slightly to rut into your mouth. Your thighs squeezed together at his words: the male normally renowned for his hostile demeanor and name calling, with a sweet spot only for you. “Good girl.” 
Wait.
He wasn’t supposed to be saying that to you.
You were supposed to be the one dishing out the praise. 
While Eris absolutely loved to watch your cheeks flush and cunt tighten around him whenever he offered you praise, there was something about how flustered he got and how desperate the male became when you offered him such affection. 
And it was something you were dying to witness.
With a finite pop, you sucked his tip and let it fall from your tongue, meeting the skin of his abdomen with a harsh slap. Eris stifled the shaky breath as he watched you stand. 
With not even a second glance, you lifted his nearly empty glass and downed the rest of the whiskey - the last push of liquid confidence to enact the final step of your plan. Your mate watched with nothing more than those drawn brows. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into you - why you’d been pushing everything off, teasing him like so. It wasn’t like you to play such games, and certainly not like him to put up with them.
But you were clearly enjoying yourself, giggling about whatever remaining tricks lied up your sleeve. Eris followed suit, working on the remainder of the wine as he lagged a few steps behind you, watching you like one would a ballet. You strolled to the bed, making a show as you dropped your robe, discarding the glass along the way. 
You perched yourself up high on the tall bed, legs spread wide in the manner in which your mate was normally accustomed to. You watched his gaze fall from your eyes to your breasts to your spread cunt, so nicely prepared for the High Lord. “It’s your turn now, my love.”
He smiled, slowing his pace so he could watch the scene unfold before him. “And if I decide to tease you just as you had?” 
You ran your hand along the exposed edge of your neck, down between the valley of your breasts, then straight to your cunt. “You won’t.”
Eris cocked a brow, unable to tear his eyes away from you. He smiled at your boldness, though, heart thrumming in his chest - to which he felt warmth down the bond, undoubtedly sent by you. He inched closer, as if stalking a doe, and any movement too loud or too quick would scare you off. 
He knelt before you, hands on either of your thighs, spreading you open impossibly farther. From there, he peered up at you, eyes bright with desire, hungry for a taste. Your hand had fallen to his prominent cheekbone, brushing over the thin scar under his eye. “Will you be good for me?” You asked, so quiet you weren’t sure if he had heard you. 
But his pointy ears perked, as did his cock, at your gentle tone. Your eyelids nearly shut, watching him drunk with lust, lips parted, begging for a kiss. Eris nodded, a quick up and down, so subtle you would have missed it if not for your hand on his face. “I missed you so much, Eris,” you reminded him, tilting his head up, forcing him to meet your view. 
His hands kneaded the flesh of your thighs - gods, he loved touching you. “I missed you, too, (Y/N).” He kissed your calf, working his way up your leg kiss by kiss. Your fingers threaded through his hair, the mess of loose red hair that had been mucked up after the bath. “Missed touching you.” He kissed up your thigh, leaving a warm trail in his wake.
You sighed at the heat. “Will you treat me well, Eris?” 
He hummed, low and deep. He sent sparks through the bond, ones that spread from your chest to your spine, from your stomach to your cunt. “Forever, my love.”
“It’s been so long since you’ve touched me.” 
His mouth stopped at your pelvis, right where your leg stopped and your pussy began. He smiled, more to himself than you, it had only been three days - four at most. “Let me make it up to you, (Y/N).” 
With no further delay, he dove in, starting with a faint kiss to your clit; but the sudden contact had you clutching at his hair. With a few well placed licks, the male began unfolding you. 
He ran a wide stripe up your slit with his tongue, tasting everything you had to offer. He worked around your cunt, deciding to trace your opening. His tongue moved in and out, slowly testing the waters. You groaned, missing the attention on your clit and flexed your hips upwards, rocking up and down to fuck yourself on his tongue. 
You’d been wet since you’d had the idea to fuck yourself on his dick in the bathtub. But you carried through with your plan, clenching your cunt around absolutely nothing as you touched him, massaged him, sucked his long cock.
Eris’s eyes flitted upwards, watching your chest move with your ragged breaths, and saw how your chest turned pinker the wetter you became. He wound his arms around your thighs, holding you still, nuzzling his face in your pussy. “Please, Eris,” you sighed, pulling at the red stands locked in your fingers. He simply hummed, sending vibrations through your whole body. “Don’t you want to be good for me, my love?”
His cock twitched. 
He almost choked out a response, but thought it too terrible to remove himself from you to reply. So instead, he simply adjusted himself, rubbing the tip of his infuriatingly perfect nose against your clit. He continued to press his face against you, slurping at all you had to offer, when you released another strangled cry, laced in nothing but gentleness. “Thank you, Eris.” His name on your lips had him absolutely aching. “Such a good male.”
Gods, had the male been so touch starved, so hungry for praise or even the least bit of acknowledgement his whole life that that got him off? The sweet words on your tongue had him reaching downwards, grasping his throbbing dick.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching the male so blissfully at ease pleasing his mate. You noticed his arm shifting, moving up and down as he jerked himself off. It was a sight you normally were desperate to see, but it wasn’t in the plan for your evening. So you pulled yourself away, sliding out of his haphazard one-armed hold, and centered yourself on the large bed. Your legs remained spread as his eyes snapped open, albeit dazed. 
“Eris,” you warned, tone low with warning. His red eyes winderned, lips parted in confusion. His arm slowed, eventually stopping as he waited for you to continue. “Come here.”
You moved back a bit more, once he rose to his feet and knelt atop the bed before you. You could make out the glint of precum smeared on his cock and against his abdomen. His dick rocked as he waded across the bed towards you. “Don’t you want to be good for me?” You rested your head against the mountain of pillows, the ones you forbade the staff from changing while he was away - they still smelled of him: cedar and smoke, the fiery bergamot. 
He continued until he knelt before you atop the soft mattress, and offered you a nod once you splayed your legs once more. “I’ll be good for you,” he replied, head already sinking lower, offering your clit a wet kiss. 
Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. “Then no touching.” You leaned forward, holding his shoulders until he surrendered his hands up to you, clutching your colder, smaller hands in his. You laid his hands on your breasts, giving the male some reward, in which he thanked you by kneading the soft flesh. 
Eris, ever the good soldier, continued on, this time focusing on your clit, lapping at your cunt. “Oh,” you breathed, bucking up against his face. “Good boy, Eris.”
Damn, Eris was at it again, as his cock demanded more attention.
His hips rocked back and forth, his curved cock rubbing against the thick duvet atop the bed. You sat back and watched, your mate desperate for reprieve. His frenzy was contagious, as you wanted nothing more than to have him run his cock over your wet cunt instead of wasting it on the mattress. 
Eris’s thumb ran over your pebbled nipple - satisfied with his plan earlier to not share too much warmth with you. But you were burning up, writhing in his arms as his tongue flitted back and forth across your clit, sparingly licking across the hole below, just to mix his spit into your pussy - gods, he wished it were his cum instead.
But you watched as he continued to get himself off, mesmerized by the curve of his strong back and his taught waist, the way his ass flexed and cock dragged against the expensive blanket. You hummed, earning the attention of the depraved male. He kept his face buried in the apex of your thighs, hands clinging for dear life on your chest, as his red eyes darted upward. “No, no, baby.” You traced over his knuckles, then his flexing forearms, down his bulging biceps, across his shoulders, and up to the arch of his brow. 
He stuttered and slowed his movements. “Sorry, my love,” he mumbled, placing a thousand kisses around your pelvis and across your lips. “It hurts,” he added, eyes pleading at you, peering just over your mound and stomach. He added one more rut for good measure, shifting the comforter below him. 
You hummed, taking his hands in yours and sitting up completely. Eris rose to his knees, towering over you, now on the same playing field as you. You tilted your head upward, neck craned back, and pursed your lips. His hands flew to your cheeks, holding you still as he smashed his lips to yours, kissing you like it’d be the last time. He tasted salty and sweet, he moaned at the thought of you tasting yourself on him. 
Your hands went to his chest, letting him only kiss you for a few moments, before you sat back and held your hand out over the bed. He laid on his back, legs splayed, hands open and waiting for you to climb into his lap. You tisked, throwing your leg over his chest. “I said no touching, right, my love?” The male bit his lip, nodding. You took his open hands, holding them above his head, pinning them to the mattress. 
You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol that had him flushed, but the male was eager to please. You climbed over him, holding yourself just over his mouth. Eris, despite how much more physical he usually was with you, loved when you rode his face. 
Absolutely could not get enough of it. 
He met your clit immediately, licking softly, easing you back into it. Long, slow licks had you sinking on your knees, falling more and more, until you were no longer hovering, but seated on your male’s face. He sighed a breath of relief, purely blissed out. He only flexed a few times, forgetting that you restrained his arms with yours, but falling back against the bed quickly each time you murmured a soft, that’s it baby, or, his new personal favorite, good boy. 
He was so much stronger than you, so powerful after years of training - a battle hardened soldier and High Lord. You’d seen the strength first hand, when he held you high up, fucking you in the air, chest-to-chest with your mate; he’d flipped this position plenty of times before, so you knew he was really playing into it - not halting and taking control, but letting you have your way with him.
He was a male so beaten and broken, all he needed was a little praise.
And by the god’s you’d give it to him.
“Oh my love,” you cried out, leaning over him and pressing your cunt to his mouth. “Yes, Eris.” You called his name like a prayer, calling out for release as he ate your pussy like it was his only salvation. 
You’d cum seeing stars, accompanied by the continuation of Eris’s assault on your sensitive clit. His cheeks had to have been hollow, jaw aching as he didn’t stop, licking up everything you offered him. 
Your thighs shook, barely able to keep yourself up. The male was not complaining, clutching your hands in his as you leaned your weight mostly on to his caged arms. Your hips rocked at each lick, unsure if your body would even allow for the continuation of the charge, as Eris surely showed no signs of stopping. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Eris. God’s yes.”
He moaned, hips lifting slightly, cock bouncing against his abdomen. You extended a hand backwards, running your fingers delicately over the underside of his dick. A featherlight touch that had him lifting his hips higher, desperate for any friction your hand would offer him. “Please, please, (Y/N),” he moaned, biceps flexing and hips moving. 
You took a shaky breath and wrapped your fist around his cock, moving up and down slowly. “Good job, baby. That’s it, my love.” His tongue jutted in and out of you, relishing in the delicious taste of your cunt, and the delectable feeling of your hand on his aching dick. 
He moved faster, hips rocking so much you weren’t even moving your hand, just allowing him to please himself as he wished. “You want to be a good boy?” You whispered, threading your free handed fingers through his hair. Eris groaned, humming in affirmation, as his hands flew up to your thighs, holding onto you for dear life. He nodded vigorously, barely comprehending what you’d asked, caught up in the feeling of your hand on him. His precum had been seeping, begging for release, and had been smeared all over his cock, wet sounds echoed off the walls of the bedroom, spurring on his tongue as he continued fucking it in and out of you. “Then stop humping my hand.”
“It’s aching, (Y/N),” his voice cracked. You could have sworn you saw tears in his eyes as you looked down at him, still buried between your legs. 
“Then I’ll kiss it better,” you offered, posing yourself on your knees. He was reluctant to let go of your thighs. Perhaps he thought it was a trick, that you’d just edge him again, leaving him with balls bluer than the oceans of the Summer Court. “I promise I’ll make you feel better, my love.” 
You shifted, kneeling beside him as you watched him pull himself up on the bed. Eris nearly winced when you’d returned your hand on his dick, thumb brushing just under the aching head, somehow more precum leaked out. Instead of using your fingers to swipe it over his shaft, like you had so many times before, you licked it up, the wide base of your tongue wiping the slit clean. 
Eris released a strangled cry. You felt his cock throb in your hand - you weren’t sure how long he’d last. “Please, (Y/N). I’ve been so good,” he whined, staring at you with crossed brows, pleading for more, more, more.
“You have been good, baby,” you replied, fisting his cock faster. “So good - what do you need, my love? You need my pussy?”
He nodded, biting his bottom lip so hard you were sure he’d summon blood. 
“You want me to ride you, baby?” 
His fists gripped the sheets and eyes screwed shut; his muscled flexed with restraint. You thought it would be too mean to stop rubbing your fist up and down his cock, but as he vigorously nodded, you had no other choice. 
“You did so well for me, my love.” You paused only for a moment, swinging your leg over his lap and holding his cock up against your tight hole. 
He nearly came as you sat down, both of you sighed out in bliss as he entered you, and you found yourself fully seated on your mate’s cock. You moved up and down, relishing in the feeling of his long cock hitting deep inside of you, spreading you open perfectly. Your clit brushed against the fine hairs above his cock, earning a wince from you and your overstimulated cunt. Eris’s breathing had run ragged, unable to wait any longer for release. 
His hands found gripped your hips, fingertips dug deep into your sides as he lifted you up and down, bouncing you on his cock. You clenched around him - fire ran hot through his blood, and his dick warmed you in such a way that you’d felt cold and empty without him. “Yes, Eris, please, please - so good - ” You were choking on your own words, your legs shaking, you couldn’t even move yourself if you’d tried. 
But Eris, clearly unable to hold himself back any longer, clearly didn’t mind, as he fucked up into you with seemingly no avail. Your hands and arms wobbled as you braced yourself on his tensed chest, trying to give yourself some leverage - distance from his skin slapping your own raw. 
“That’s it Eris - ” Your thighs came together, cunt clenched around him like a vice as you squeezed your eyes shut and saw nothing but bright light. Your mate didn’t stop, rutting into you like the unfinished male he found himself to be.
“Fuck,” you’d cursed, barely able to open your eyes before Eris flipped you, throwing your back against the mattress and pounding into you. You couldn’t convince yourself to be mad about it. He was a strong male, afterall - impossible to be tamed.
His hand raked down your slide, you swore he’d lit you on fire. His touch left an inferno in his wake, sliding down from your side all the way to your ass and thigh, hitching your leg up behind his back. 
Eris fell to his knees, hovering over you, slamming his cock in and out of you, crying out to the mother for release. No - not to the mother. To you. 
“Please, (Y/N).” His breathing was unsteady, voice like gravel as he cried out to you. Despite the fact your game had ended, he grunted, waiting for your response - not faltering in his movements for a moment. “Please, please, please - ”
“Yes,” you gasped, hands winding around his neck, curling your arms around him. “Come for me, my love.” His forehead was pressed against your sweaty chest, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stuttered. He met your cunt to the hilt, fully seated inside of you as his come shot out in thick ropes, coating you entirely.
He rocked into you, arms winding between your back and the mattress as he held you impossibly closer. He picked up his forehead only to drop it against yours. Gods, he was burning up. The both of you shared come and sweat, melded into one Fae, as mates and more. 
He caught your lips with his, the softest of kisses - he didn’t move, didn’t prod with his tongue, no teeth and no biting. He took a deep breath, committing your sensual scent to memory, as he stilled inside of you. 
Eris couldn’t have been more relieved - more satiated. 
He looked like he could pass out at any moment. You brushed his red hair back, away from where it had fallen over his brow, and tucked the loose strands behind his ears. He pulled his head away, not without dragging a trail of kisses lazily across your jaw and cheek. His head fell against the mattress, and Eris awkwardly leaned on the plush sheets. Your legs were still a tangled mess, his cock still buried deep inside of you. 
You stared into his tired eyes, an embarrassed blush crawling up your cheeks. Your hand fell to his cheek and you caressed his smooth skin until a small smile laced his lips. “You’re such a good male.” Thanks for playing.
He let his head rest fully to the side as his eyes met yours. “That’s why I made you my High Lady.” 
955 notes · View notes
swansworth · 1 year
Text
Warm to the Touch
Eris x Reader
Summary: Your back was sore and nothing was helping. Thank the Cauldron for your mate and his heated hands. 
Warnings: smut (light fingerfucking and cunnilingus), massaging, established relationship (set sort of within the By Fire’s Light verse)
Word Count: 2,428
Author Notes: Happy Birthday @bubbles-for-all-of-us​ ! I love you to pieces! I know your birthday was back on the 19th, and I’m so sorry that it took me over a week to finish this. But I hope you enjoy this all the same. 
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Your back was killing you. Having to hunch in the small chairs at the temple had left an awful ache that you couldn't seem to alleviate. A sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed a particularly sore spot in the hopes that this time it would feel better. 
"You're going to make it worse, you know," Marianne's voice drifted from the doorway, a sympathetic look on her fair face. Over the course of the last year, the two of you had become close and you offered a weak smile as she neared. "Have you gone to a healer to see about some sort of tonic?" 
"It's just muscle soreness, I don't think it's anything I need to bother the healers over." 
Marianne hummed and slinked around to stand in front of you. She had a calculating look on her face and you did your best to not let the pain show in your expression. "You know, Eris is meant to return today. He won’t be happy that he can't carry you off and ravage you."
"Who's to say he can't?" Marianne's lips pulled back into a smirk and you laughed together before she shook her head and said, "If you're that set on not being able to walk tomorrow, at least allow me to ensure you look tantalizing." 
Marianne was many things, but she knew how to dress well and so you followed her willingly, knowing that you were in good hands. The pair of you spent the better part of the afternoon looking through various gowns until you found one that clung to your figure and showed off just enough skin. Marianne fretted over your hair, being sure it was styled well, before moving to add a bit of makeup to your face. She held a hand mirror up for you so you could evaluate yourself and you smiled at your reflection. “You may have missed your calling, Marianne.” 
“Hardly. These are simply tools I have mastered using in the art of persuading men. Now, I believe your mate is due back any minute. You best go wait near the courtyard to greet him.” 
“The courtyard? It’s freezing out!” Marianne fixed you with a look that clearly told you how idiotic she believed your statement was. However, she kept her insult held back and instead said, “Yes it is. But won’t you look radiant among the trees? And wouldn’t it be a shame if Eris had to take his breathtaking mate immediately to their shared quarters so he could warm her up?”
Oh. 
Marianne smirked at you, as if seeing the pieces click together in your brain. Gods, sometimes she really was incredible.
═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══
You hurried to the courtyard and gasped as the cool night air hit the exposed parts of your skin. Eris was due back any time, and you hoped that it wouldn't be too long. A cold shiver ran down your body as you stood and waited. Luck, fortunately, was on your side and soon enough Eris arrived looking handsome atop his horse. His golden eyes locked their sights on you and you gasped again as he smiled. It was a bright, beautiful thing made all the more incredible by the fact that you knew it was just for you. 
"You are a vision, little moth," he said as he dismounted and made his way over to you. As much as he often grimaced when other couples were too physically affectionate in front of him, Eris did not hesitate to pull you to him and kiss you. You melted against him, more than happy to be in his arms after nearly a week apart. "You are positively frozen. Come, let's get inside." 
"I believe, my love, that dinner is ready," you said. Eris bent and scooped you into his arms, holding you close against him as he walked the opposite direction of the dining hall. 
"I have not seen my mate in days. I have little interest in eating." Eris's voice was almost a purr and you shivered at the sound of it. Emboldened, you asked, “Then what do you have interest in my love?”
“As if you don’t know.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone and you grinned widely at him, a little pleased with yourself. “I know what sort of filth you read, little moth.” 
He angled his head forward and kissed your temple. "I would be jealous but your reading habits have led to several enjoyable explorations."
"Well rest assured, none of the characters in those stories hold a candle to you."
"What a relief ." You laughed at his dry tone and enjoyed the following silence as he continued to carry you.
═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══
Once in your chambers, Eris gently setted you on your feet before waving his hand at the fireplace. A beautiful roaring fire emerged and you sighed happily at the warmth it provided. He removed his coat and tossed it unceremoniously onto a nearby armchair then began working off his other layers. You moved to sit at the edge of the bed and watched him, enjoying the unintentional show he was putting on.
"I see I'm the only one removing their attire," he commented as he took off the last bit of fabric he had on. It joined his jacket and other clothing in a heap on the chair. He normally took care in keeping everything near, but you knew he must have truly missed you if he was willing to forgo tidiness in favor of being with you.
"Well, I didn't want to rob you the pleasure of peeling this gorgeous gown off of me." You replied, taking note of the hungry look in his eyes.
"Mmm that would have been unfortunate."
He strode toward you and you swallowed audibly at the sight of his cock already heavy and weeping with need. You rose to meet him halfway but winced as the movement pulled at the store muscles in your back. Eris froze, that hungry gaze shifting to one of concern.  
“I’m fine, Eris,” you said as he closed the distance between you and cupped your face carefully in his hands. “I just strained my back a bit when sitting at the temple a few days ago.” 
“Have you had healers look at it?” You shook your head. He let out a sigh before taking your shoulders in his grasp and carefully turning you until your back was to him. One hand shifted to your spine and you inhaled a breath as Eris said, “Tell me if it hurts.” 
His hand moved slowly down your back, adding a bit of pressure along every inch, until it finally came to the area that was causing you grief. You groaned as he rubbed at it and told him that was the spot. He hummed in acknowledgement before moving his hand back to the nape of your neck. His deft fingers worked agilely down your spine, opening each fasten that held your gown closed. You stepped out of it once it was pooled around your ankles and gasped as Eris scooped you up once more and carried you to your shared bed. He placed you upon it and instructed you to lay on your stomach. 
“I had rather hoped to see your face tonight, my love.” Your tone was teasing and light and you smiled against the pillows as Eris chuckled. 
“Such an insatiable little creature. We will see what we can do about that once I’ve tended to your back.” 
He shifted forward then and sat beside you on the bed, being sure to rest on his knees so he could reach more of your body. Your body tensed in anticipation, eager for whatever Eris was planning to do for you. As if sensing this, Eris bent forward and kissed the back of your neck. “Relax, my sweet,” he breathed, his lips dragging to your shoulder before gently biting at the flesh there. You gasped and he placed a single hand between your shoulders to keep you still. “And do try to stay still.” 
The pressure returned to your back and you moaned as the hand Eris placed there grew warmer. Heat spread through your body as Eris moved his second hand to your body and began to massage the sore spot. You had felt him warm his hands a few times before on cold days, but this was something else. The way his knuckles pushed into your muscles, kneading them slowly, had you keening beneath him. It felt so good, the heat of his fingers was glorious and you melted happily into the bed as all the stiffness and pain slowly faded away. 
“Better?” Eris’s voice was as warm and soothing as his touch. You gave a hum in reply and he chuckled to himself as he continued working at your muscles. Your eyes drifted close as his hands wandered to massage your shoulders. Oh, you could get used to this. As you were considering how to request this become a regular occurrence, Eris’s hands slid down your sides down to your rear, slowly massaging your cheeks. He hummed then, as if noticing something and you tilted your head in an effort to look back at him. “What is it?”
“Tell me,” he said, dragging one hand further down between your legs until his knuckles were sliding through your labia, “Does it ache here as well?”
Heat coiled in your gut and you inhaled sharply through your nose. “Gods yes,” you breathed. “It aches terribly.” 
“Then allow me to remedy that.” He turned his wrist and dragged his fingers through your slick folds lower to your clit. “So wet already and I haven’t even begun.”
Pausing for a moment, he bent and placed a kiss at the base of your spine before rubbing his knuckle against your clit. Heat coursed through you, flooding every vein in your body with pleasure. Gods, how was he so damn good at this? His other hand, which you'd forgotten about entirely, moved along the planes of your body to press at your cunt, sliding through the slick folds and into your body with ease. 
"Mmm." Eris hummed as he watched his fingers disappear into your heat. His gaze was as hot as the rest of him and it stared, unmoving, as he hooked his fingers within you and pushed against that spot inside you that had you seeing stars. You held the sheets below you in a vice-like grip, your back arching off the bed as you gasped his name. 
His fingers were long and thin and moved in and out of you easily with the amount of nectar that gushed from your eager hole. "Such a mess you're making, little moth. I'm not sure my fingers will be enough." Craning your neck almost uncomfortably so you could look down at him, you groaned when you realized he was staring at your face as if awaiting a response. "Shall I use my mouth instead?"
Words failed you and you nodded eagerly before gasping as Eris pulled his fingers out of you and then flipped you over. His intense gaze met yours again and you felt almost dizzy in pleasure and need as he said, “Eyes on me, dearest. Keep your eyes on me.”
He took one of your legs in his hand and hoisted it over his shoulder, his fingers dragging gently over your soft skin. He turned his head, breaking eye contact with you for a moment, to kiss your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine. Flicking his gaze to your face once more, he shifted down until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cunt. 
“Eyes on me.” He breathed against you, as if you would dare to look anywhere else. You whined as his mouth closed over your clit, heat shooting through your body. His hands shifted to grip your hips, keeping you in place. He buried his face in your cunt, groaning at the taste of you. He fucked his tongue into you, working you with a practiced ease. 
His eyes bore into yours and your hips jerked against him. His tongue moved over you, licking a broad stripe through the folds of your cunt. “So good,” he husked, “You taste exquisite.”
You attempted to respond to say something, anything, but all you could manage was a shriek as Eris inhaled deeply and brought his mouth around you again. The heat of his mouth intensified and you idly wondered if he was summoning the same fire he’d brought to his hands to his lips. “E-Eris!” Your voice was surprisingly hoarse from the panting breaths you’d been taking. Eris’s golden eyes darkened almost dangerously as you took in the sight of you. The leg he had over his shoulder shivered and your body writhed in his grip. 
“Cum for me, little moth. Let me taste you.” He sealed his mouth over you once more, slipped his tongue back into you, and sucked hard. You were practically oozing against his mouth and he hummed as he used his hold on your hips to pull you closer to him. 
A few more deep thrusts of his tongue had your back arching off the bed and pleasure washed over you as you came, gushing against his lips. He drank it all in, lapped at your cunt until it was clean, glistening only with his own saliva. “Mmm I almost forgot how delicious you are.” 
You couldn’t respond and instead watched intently as he carefully removed your leg from his shoulder and rose to his feet. Eris looked at you for a moment, merely admiring the sight of you, before he gracefully moved to join you on the bed. “Is the pain gone?” He asked as he reclined beside you then pulled you to him. 
“Yes,” you breathed, “It feels a lot better.” He kissed your forehead tenderly before wrapping his toned arms around you, keeping you flush against his chest. His voice was soft and deep as he said, “Good, I am glad.” 
You wanted to say more, to thank him for his help, but the sound of Eris’s steady heartbeat mixed with the heat of his skin lulled you swiftly into a deep and peaceful sleep. Though, in the haze of your dreams, you could have sworn that you felt a soft yet warm touch against your cheek along with a faint whisper of, “Sleep well, my love.” 
296 notes · View notes
az-cain · 2 years
Text
Masterlist
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Star Wars | MCU | Triple Frontier | Outer Range | Top Gun: Maverick | Stranger Things | ACOTAR
✰- drabble, ❀- fluff, ↓- angst, ❂- violence, + - suggestive, ↑- smut, !- kink
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Star Wars
Din Djarin-
- Di’kutla Kar’ta - Foolish Heart ❂ ❀ ↓ ↑
ongoing series - (din x reader) - when your clan was killed years ago, you were scorned by the surrounding coverts for being a member of what they called a “cult.” since then, you’d avoided all other mandalorians. that is, until din djarin arrived as stormtroopers were fighting to remove your beskar’gam.
- Thank You ❀
921 words - (din x reader) - din thanks you for being his home
- Fields of Blue ✰ ❀
(din x gn!reader) - you, din, and your adoptive son visit some bluebonnet fields in plano, tx
- The Mirror ❀
request from @amchapel about trans din. it’s just din falling in love w himself after top surgery
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MCU
The Moon Knight System-
- At Fault (personal favorite) ↓ ❀
1.1k words - (marc x reader) - marc comes home from a rough job and feels that he doesn’t deserve you
- Lacy ↑
2k words - (mks x reader) - the boys all get some pretty underwear and can’t resist showing you while you’re at work
- Cast in Blue ✰ ❀
377 words - (jake lockley x reader) - you give jake a place to relax, to be calm, to not have to be on guard
- Silly ↓ ❀ ↑
5.1k words - (mks x reader) - you’re a little too good at hiding your feelings, until you’re not
- Top, Switch, Bottom HCs ↑
104 words - (mks x reader) - hcs for the mk boys
- So Into You ↑
4.3k words - (jake lockley x reader) - you meet jake in a bar after 2 months of abstinence due to work. he provides a damn good release.
- Self Care HCs ✰ ❀ +
1.1k words - (mks x reader) - exactly what it sounds like: includes shaving, hair cutting, showering, hydration, working out, and eating habits
Matt Murdock-
- Late Night ❂ ↓ ↑ !
4.4k words - (matt x reader) - matt comes tumbling through your windshield with a gunshot in his thigh
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Triple Frontier
Santiago Garcia-
- Make a Little Magic ✰ ❀ ↑
437 words - (santiago x reader) - songfic drabble
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Outer Range
Rhett Abbott-
- Bruised Thighs/Flowery Sheets ❂ ❀ ↓ ↑ !
3300 words - (rhett x reader) - rhett has a rough ride and needs to get his brains fucked out
- Rhett Abbott NSFW Headcanons ✰ ↑
(rhett x reader) - pretty self-explanatory
- Sickly ✰ ❀
473 words - (rhett x reader) - you’re feeling yucky
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Top Gun: Maverick
- Strength ✰ ↓
to cope with her death.
Robert “Bob” Floyd-
- Finally ✰ ❀ (the prequel)
873 words - (bob x reader) - low likelihoods, lots of history, and long-awaited chances
- Roberta’s Ring ✰ ❀
(bob x reader) - grandma already knows he’ll need her ring soon
- Really Dumb HCs for Jake and Bob ✰
(bob x reader) - random things i think about when it comes to him and/or 100% non-canon thoughts about his life
- Reminiscing ❀
798 words - (bob x reader) - bob’s groom speech and your first dance :)
- Home ✰ ❀
597 words - (bob x reader) - you get home after a tough flight
Jake “Hangman” Seresin-
- The Things We Do For Love ❀
(jake x reader) - he comes home to visit and you go ice skating, and when the two of you get back in the car, your song comes on
- Of Morning Light and Soft Tummies ❀ ↑ ↓
2.6k words - (jake x reader) - jake, home on injury with a broken leg and orders of bedrest, has grown terribly insecure about his soft tummy. you make it your mission to fix that.
- Really Dumb HCs for Jake and Bob ✰
(jake x reader) - random things i think about when it comes to him and/or 100% non-canon thoughts about his life
- Love Letters ❀
(jake x reader) - reader always leave jake notes before he leaves for work. one morning, after he comes home having gone through g-loc, he responds.
- Jake likes mean people ✰
(jake x reader) - someone came up w a cute lil concept and i fleshed it out
- Brave ✰ ❀
(jake x reader) - 400 words - domestic fluff w a sleepy jake
- Hey, Cowboy ✰ + Part Two ❀ ↑
(jake x reader) - 800 words - the cowboy hat rule
(jake x reader) - 1000 words - smutty continuation
- Jealousy, Jealousy ↑
(jake x reader) - 1400 words - jealous reader punishing jake
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Stranger Things
Eddie Munson-
- Sticky Sweet ✰ ↑ ❀
518 words - (eddie x reader) - super hot summer smut drabble
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A Court of Thorns and Roses
Azriel-
- Rita’s ✰❀
1.2k words - (azriel x reader) - you and azriel bond a bit when the group goes out to rita’s
- Rockstar ✰❀
(azriel x reader) - HCs about rockstar Az
- Shut Down ↓
540 words - (azriel x gwyn | reader) - azriel doesn’t love you, and he doesn’t quite understand his impact on you.
- You Found Me (2-part with @amchapel) ↓ ❀
1.7k words - (azriel x reader) - you doubt your self worth, how you fit in, but azriel is there to catch you when you fall
- Mio Luce ❀
404 words - (azriel x reader) - good ol’ domestic bliss
- On My Knees ❀
458 words - (azriel x gwyn) - azriel will fall to his knees when gwyn says she loves him
Eris Vanserra-
- High Lord ✰ ❂
505 words - (eris x reader) - you, cass, and az all go to get feyre on the frozen lake, and your mating bond with eris shows its face
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Not Fanfiction
Original Stories-
- The Fae and The Prince
Poetry-
- Rot
- On Acne Scars
- Upcurrents
- Caught In The Headlights
- Paper Doll
- Gravel Shoulders and Cold-Patch Concrete
- Love Thy Neighbor
- Bare and Diamond Smooth
- Magnet Poetry
- Fiddles, Blood, and Tongues
- In Anticipation of Grief
Recipes-
- Shakshuka
Informational/Political Opinions-
- Grassroots Campaigns
- My Experience With Nexplanon
153 notes · View notes
So I want to start putting out fics for the fandoms I'm in; acotar, marvel, supernatural, throne of glass, grey's anatomy.
Follow me if you'd like to see some of my fics!!
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serpentandlily · 5 months
Text
Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader
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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader
Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.
Warnings: use of the nickname bunny
Based on THIS request.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
Gods, you were going to be in so much trouble. You kept your fast pace as you walked through the woods, keeping your eye out for anything, anything, that might help you. The only reason you even knew where you were was the red and golden leaves adorning the trees, the scent of cinnamon and rain hanging in the crisp air. Autumn. You were in the Autumn Court. 
You had just been practicing winnowing with Rhys, your brother-in-law. Since the war ended, the Inner Circle was finally spending more time helping you learn your magic. You had wanted to learn, to do more, ever since you had been turned fae, tossed in the cauldron like your sisters.
But being the youngest meant also having to take a back seat sometimes. Feyre and Nesta never let you do anything. Never let you help in any way. Not much changed after you had been turned fae. 
The sound of dogs howling made you pause in your tracks. You stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. They could be farm dogs, it could mean that someone was nearby, someone who could help you. 
But you knew of the type of fae in the Autumn Court and it could also be someone who’d try to hurt you. You bit your lip, finally deciding to make a run for it as the howling got closer.
You took off down a line of trees, pushing yourself to run as fast as you could to create some distance between you and the pack of dogs. But a few stumbles over fallen branches and you could hear the pounding of their paws not far behind you. 
A bark had you looking over your shoulder, cursing as you saw the hounds close behind. They yelped with excitement as they caught sight of you, picking up their pace. 
Pain, awful, debilitating pain, rushed through your leg and you screamed, falling to the ground. You flipped yourself over to see your foot stuck in the claws of a bear trap, the metal prongs piercing through your skin. You cursed as you realized they must’ve been herding you here. 
You let out another cry as you forced yourself to sit up and scoot closer to the trap. The dogs were still running at you and you desperately tried to yank the trap apart, to free your foot. 
It was no use; the dogs were too fast. Faster than any dogs you’d ever encountered. You could do nothing but throw your arms over your face and scream, hoping someone would hear you before you were mauled to death by a pack of dogs. 
To your utter shock, the feeling of teeth ripping into your flesh never came. You slowly put your arms down to see twelve hounds running in a circle around you, yapping and howling into the air. Each one gray and sleek like smoke. 
Footsteps coming from behind you had you whipping around, eyes wide. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of a male. A very handsome male with silky red hair, whiskey amber eyes, and pale skin. He was tall, lithe, but he had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, giving you a glimpse of the muscles beneath. 
The cobalt coat he wore was finely crafted, along with his pants and shoes. The haughty expression on his face told you exactly who you were looking at—Eris, the Heir of Autumn.
You swallowed audibly as he smirked down at you, coming to a halt a few paces away. 
“Well what do we have here?” His voice was smooth like silk and it sent a shiver down your spine. 
You said nothing as he let out a sharp whistle and the hounds circling you halted before running to his side. They sat behind him like perfect little guards, their unusual eyes still on you. You looked back up at the male, who had just stumbled upon you, trapped. He walked around your form, much like his hounds had been doing. 
You couldn’t find any words. Mostly because of the pain of the bear trap ripping through your shin and foot. But also because you had only really ever heard horror stories about Eris—about his cruelty and cunning nature. 
Eris’s fox-like face smirked down at you in amusement. “My hounds seem to have herded a little bunny into one of my traps. Do you have a name, bunny?”
Should you tell him who you were? That you were one of the Archeron sisters, that you were from the Night Court? You knew briefly through listening in on Feyre’s conversations that they considered Eris an ally. But they also said he could hardly be trusted. 
“Does the little bunny not have a voice?” Eris purred, still circling around you like a predator playing with its food. “Hm, let me guess. The golden brown hair and the big, brown doe eyes that look incredibly similar to my brother’s mate’s…Have I trapped an Archeron?”
You used the sleeve of your dress to wipe at the tear tracks on your cheeks. You tried to back away from him, but the movement only jostled your leg, causing a small whimper to escape your throat. 
“I-I’m not sure how I ended up here, my Lord,” you mumbled. Gods, you felt pathetic. “Can you p-please help me?”
Eris tilted his head at you, in an animalistic way you still weren’t used to with the fae. He studied you for a moment before another smirk bloomed on his handsome fox-like face. He was picturesque with his disarming beauty.
“You see, I think this is all a bit unfair. You seem to know who I am, but you still haven’t told me your name, little bunny.” He knelt down next to you, reaching a gloved hand out to push some of your hair from your face. 
It should’ve alarmed you, his closeness, the touch of his hand. But for some reason, it didn’t. You swallowed again, considering your options. Maybe he would help you get home. 
“I’m one of Feyre’s sisters,” you managed to stutter out. 
“Is that so?” He seemed to be enjoying this. “And what is the name of the bunny I’ve managed to trap?” 
You mumbled your name out loud, glancing around the meadow you were in, at the hounds that were now all laying down, still staring at you. You blinked at them and the biggest one, the leader of the pack, stood suddenly. You kept your eyes trained on her as she marched over to you, shaking as you examined her large head, her jaw that could easily rip your throat out. 
But to your surprise, she merely meandered over to you and brushed her head against yours, letting out a low whine. Your eyes widened, looking over at Eris for a second to see a flicker of shock cross his face. The hound let out a small yip before licking the side of your face, drawing out a surprised giggle from you. Was she trying to…comfort you? 
“Ashera,” Eris said sternly with a snap of the fingers. But the hound merely glanced at him and then went back to nudging you with her fluffy head. 
You raised a shaky hand and stroked her back, bewildered by the dog's behavior. She licked you up the side of your face again and Eris said her name a little louder this time, making her ears twitch. She whined at him but listened, going back to the other dogs. 
“I didn’t know there was a fourth Archeron sister. Where have they been hiding you?” Eris asked, drawing your attention back to him. “And why?”
You shrugged your shoulders. Had they been hiding you? No one has ever mentioned keeping you a secret. “I-I don’t know.”
He waved a hand in the air, summoning a piece of parchment and pen. He quickly scribbled something on it before flicking it away. You watched it disappear with awe, still taken aback by the use of magic. 
Eris seemed to remember you were still stuck. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on both sides of the trap. He paused to look at you. “Sorry, little bunny, but this is going to hurt.”
And then he pulled the trap apart with his bare hands. You let out a loud cry as the metal spikes were pulled out of your leg. You whimpered, pulling your knee to your chest as you examined the damage to your shin. 
Blood was now gushing from the wounds that circled around your shin. You grabbed some of your skirt in your hand, intending to use it to put pressure on the wounds but Eris’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. 
“Don’t do that,” he hissed. “Are you dumb? Your skirt is covered in dirt and mud. You’ll only infect it.”
Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He reached a hand towards you but now free from the trap, you scrambled away from him with a whimper. He let out an amused chuckle.
“No need to be frightened, little bunny,” he purred. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
You looked at him warily as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, dangling it in the air between the two of you. You swallowed audibly but didn’t move as he approached again and wrapped it around your ankle as a makeshift gauze. 
He hummed, standing up and brushing invisible dirt from his pants. “Now, are you going to tell me why exactly an Archeron is in my court?”
“I was learning how to winnow. I-I don’t know how I ended up here. One minute I was in Velaris and then next, I was here.” 
He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Interesting. Well, come on. Let’s get to Spring so someone can come retrieve you before you get yourself killed.”
Eris held at his gloved hand to you. You took it, letting him help you rise from the ground, trying to keep weight off your injured ankle. As soon as you were up, he winnowed the two of you away. 
A moment later, you appeared on the border of Autumn and Spring. You would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Eris grabbing you by the upper arm. You blushed, muttering a small thank you.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to walk the rest of the way so we don’t set off any wards that will alert my father,” Eris said, coolly. 
He set off and you trailed after him, hobbling slowly because of your injury. You only made it a few paces before Eris turned around. 
“Hurry it up, bunny, I don’t have all day.”
Your eyes narrowed at him. “Sorry, it’s a little hard to walk considering my foot was just in a bear trap.”
Eris tsked, looking down at your ankle before his eyes trailed up your form. He let out a sigh and strided back to you. Before you could even figure out what he was doing, he grabbed you by the waist and tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
You squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”
“Like I said, I don’t have all day,” Eris said, stalking off towards the border to Spring. You jostled on his shoulder with each step he took but he held you firmly with an arm around your thighs like you weighed absolutely nothing. 
You pounded on his back with your fists. “Ugh, Let me down!”
“You even hit with the strength of a rabbit,” Eris laughed to himself, ignoring your attempts to free yourself from his hold. 
“Jerk,” you scoffed, crossing your arms as you dangled there. 
Eris just laughed again. You bickered with him all the way to a clearing where he finally came to a stop and put you down. You huffed, smoothing down your dress and hair as you glared up at him. 
“You’re welcome,” he purred with an arrogant smile. 
The shadows around the clearing seemed to move in a flurry and then a familiar face stepped out of the darkness. 
“Get away from her,” Azriel growled at Eris.
Eris held his hands up, that smile never leaving his face as Azriel stalked towards you. His eyes narrowed as he sniffed, smelling the blood on you.
“Did he hurt you?” Azriel asked, his tone dark. He grabbed you by the arm and yanked you to his side, causing you to stumble. 
Before you could even open your mouth, Eris cut in.
“Must you have such a low opinion of me, shadowsinger.” Eris wore that fox-like grin again. “I haven’t harmed a single hair on her head.”
Azriel looked to you, waiting for you to verify his story.
“He speaks the truth, Azriel,” you said, clutching your ankle. “I ran into a bear trap on my own. He helped me out of it and brought me here.”
“And why were you running?” Azriel tossed Eris a glare.
“His d-dogs scared me. But they’re friendly,” you replied, trying to ease the tension in the air. 
Eris scoffed, as if no one had ever referred to his hounds as friendly before. 
Azriel looked at you with exasperation. “Come on, let’s get you home. No need to linger here.” He glared at Eris one last time. 
Before you could protest, he hoisted you up into his arms. You glanced at Eris one last time to see a moment of shock cross his face as he met your gaze.
“Thank you,” you called out as you gave him a small wave before you were swept away in the shadows.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
You didn’t see Eris again for months. Not until Winter Solstice, when it had been decided that Nesta would try to intrigue him enough to keep him as a steady ally. When Elain had declared that she was going to join the Inner Circle in the Court of Nightmares, you had demanded to be taken as well, despite arguments from nearly everyone. But you were tired of being treated like a baby.
You had gotten your way in the end, after agreeing to strict orders to stay at the foot of the dais the entire time. It wasn’t ideal but it was something…better than staying home. 
You were dressed in a black tulle, A-line gown. The bodice was sheer but adorned with lace appliques embedded with shining silver gems. It had a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder lace straps. It swept the floor with tulle and lace, pooling at your feet like dark water. It was beautiful, more girlish than the dress Nesta was wearing but not as plain as Elain’s modest, long-sleeved dress. 
You stood at the bottom of the dais next to your sisters, between the two Illyrian warriors, as your sister addressed the crowd. Eris was standing next to Keir at the head of the gathered crowd, dressed in Night Court black himself. It was hard to deny how truly beautiful he was—especially with his striking red hair contrasting the black so well. You could feel his eyes on you from time to time but kept your gaze forward. 
 “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you,” Feyre declared. 
Keir was the first to approach with a low bow. “Allow me to extend my congratulations.”
“And allow me to extend mine as well, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.” Eris had stalked forward as well, giving your sister a pretty, cultivated smile. “He shall be thrilled by the news.” 
“I’m sure he will.” Rhys kept his eyes trained on the Autumn Heir. “Music!” 
An orchestra began playing and Feyre raised her voice and said, “Go—eat.”
The crowd slowly began to dissipate. Keir also disappeared as half the crowd began to dance seamlessly to the music. 
“Before you join the merriment, Eris,” Rhys drawled. “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”
You tuned out the conversation, taking in the rest of the throne room. It was your first time here in Hewn City. It was as monstrous as expected. But beautiful still, in the dark way that screamed Night. 
You tuned back into the conversation just as Feyre spoke, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me unwell enough that I worry about what so much spinning would do to my stomach.” 
She looked at the three of you, as if deciding who she would offer to the Heir of Autumn even though it had already been decided. Elain gave a passable impression of appearing interested, as she had been directed to. Nesta just looked bored. Rhys and Feyre had given you no direction, claiming Eris would be tempted more by power and a wide-eyed, young girl, as they had called you, would not be of interest to him. 
“My oldest sister shall take my place.” 
But it was like Eris hadn’t heard Feyre speak as he stepped forward and stopped in front of you, not Nesta. You blinked at him, your brows raising with confusion as he extended his hand to you, an open invitation. 
“I’ll take the little bunny,” Eris purred with that fox-like grin. He kept his amber eyes on you, not looking towards Feyre despite speaking to her. “If the Lady agrees, of course.” 
“I-I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the dances, my Lord,” you said, politely, ignoring the hand outstretched to you as your cheeks turned red at the attention. 
Eris didn’t back down. “That’s quite alright. I’ve been told I’m a good lead.” 
You glanced at Feyre and Rhys, uncertain of what you were supposed to do. This wasn’t the plan. Eris was never supposed to take interest in you. You were a speck of dust compared to the power rolling off Nesta—power, the only thing he was supposed to care about. 
You felt talons scrape your mind and let your sister in.
Just go with it for now. We’ll send in Azriel to take over before it goes too far. 
You slipped your hand in Eris’s hold and let him escort you to the dance floor just as the dance finished and the introductory strains of the next began. You couldn’t wipe the wide-eyed look off your face as much as you tried to. You placed your free hand on his shoulder just as his broad hand slid around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.
You blushed, somehow turning even more red than you already had been. 
He leaned down to whisper in your ear just as the violins began their song. 
“And so the fox ensnares the bunny again.” 
Your eyes narrowed at him. “Stop calling me that.” 
“Why?” he purred, beginning to lead you into the dance. “It just seems so fitting.” 
“It’s not,” you grumbled, trying not to stumble over your own feet. You were lucky that this waltz was similar to the one from the human lands or else you would have surely embarrassed yourself already. 
The pair of you finished your first rotation around the dance floor in silence but that smirk never seemed to leave Eris’s face to your annoyance. Flame simmered in his eyes, never leaving yours for a second. You felt something flutter in your chest. 
“So,” Eris finally spoke. “Have your owners finally let you out of your cage?” 
“I am not caged here,” you murmured. “Just because they don’t find you pleasant company, doesn’t mean I haven’t been allowed around others.” 
You snapped your mouth shut, a brief wave of horror passing through you. You had just insulted him. You had just done the opposite of what was supposed to be happening tonight. But to your surprise, Eris just chuckled, not seeming offended at all. 
“Do you find me unpleasant, Lady?”
“I remain undecided, my Lord,” you said. “Though everyone certainly has a lot to say about you.”
“What lies have they told you about me, sweetheart?” He twirled your around again, your skirt swishing in the air. A faint fluttering of butterflies grew in your stomach. 
“What are these lies you speak of, my Lord?”
You tried to channel your sister but it came out so wrong. You didn’t sound as aloof as her. Nor as cold. 
“Don’t try to play the game they want you to.” Eris’s smirk grew into a grin. “It does not suit you, bunny.” 
“Maybe if you stopped playing games, I wouldn’t feel the need to as well,” you muttered with a frown. Eris’s grin sharpened. 
You were failing at this task. Failing so profoundly that it was embarrassing. You hoped your family couldn’t hear this conversation. 
“This is not a game to me, little bunny,” Eris purred, his grip around your waist tightening. “None of it is.”
“Your behavior seems to say otherwise. So does your reputation.” 
“Do I not ally myself with this court under constant threat of being discovered and killed by my father? Do I not offer aid whenever Rhysand wishes?” 
“That matters little to me, my Lord,” you said. “I am not a piece on this political chessboard you seem to have with Rhysand.” 
“So what matters to you, Y/n?” Eris kept pace with the other dancers and you followed his lead as best as you could. “Tell me. I wish to know.” 
Your hand slipped from his shoulder, down to his chest and right over his beating heart. “This. This is what matters to me. I would rather someone good of heart over someone with power.” 
“How sweet,” Eris teased. “How naive.” 
“Gods forbid someone be hopeful for the goodness of people to be the change in this world,” you bristled. 
To your surprise, Eris merely smirked once again. “Goodness cannot exist amongst cruelty, sweetheart. Just as hope cannot exist under the burden of responsibility.” 
You studied him closely. “Aren’t you tired of putting on a show, Eris? I have seen monsters. You do not seem like one of them.” 
Eris yanked you closer and your heart began to pound in your chest. “Then I’d say you haven’t seen enough of the world and its monsters if you truly believe that, bunny.”
“Stop calling me that!” 
“Wide-eyed, fluffy tailed,” Eris listed off, his fox-like grin returning. “Still has hope that she can change the world. I have seen this story, sweetheart. I know how it ends. Perhaps it would be best for you to return to your safe, little burrow where you belong.” 
A wave of anger crashed into you, your body heating up. 
“You don’t get to tell me where I belong. No one does,” you huffed. “Especially not a jerk who doesn’t have dreams of his own and lets everyone else dictate who he is!” 
Eris didn’t seem perturbed by your impassioned speech. If anything, his grin seemed to grow. You hadn’t even realized the song had ended and that the two of you had come to a halt on the edge of the dance floor, too lost in your anger. 
“You’re just going to have to learn the hard way, sweetheart. You think having dreams and hope makes you something but it doesn’t. It can’t.” Your hand dropped from his chest as he brought the one he was holding up to his lips.  “You are only ever going to be what others think you are.”
He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before letting it fall to your side.  
“Sly fox.” He pointed to himself before turning his hand to you in a sweeping gesture. “Dumb bunny.” 
“I am not a dumb bunny,” you growled. 
“Right,” he drawled in a teasing manner that infuriated you. “And you are definitely not caged here, either.” 
Your eyes widened as he strode away from you, disappearing in the crowd but not before he tossed one last remark over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you later, bunny.”
You stared at his back as a scarred hand landed on your shoulder with a firm grip, knocking you out of your stupor. You looked up at Azriel, at his cold, unreadable face that stared down at you. 
“Come on,” he murmured. “I’ve been ordered to take you back home.”
And just like that, your night–and freedom—was over. Eris’s words and his stupidly handsome face haunted you the entire journey back to Velaris. 
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thehighladywrites · 2 months
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY
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☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s
☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀
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RHYSAND
“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”
“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”
Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead
He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.
“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.
“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight
Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.
Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.
“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”
He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy
In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban
The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.
“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer
Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…
YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹
ERIS
“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”
He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.
“Is that so?”
You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.
“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”
You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.
Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated
And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.
But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house
You are a mess. An absolute mess
You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.
The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time
When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.
When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired
When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.
After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in
“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.
“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”
He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses
“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”
You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed
“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head
AZRIEL
“Okay.”
That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.
But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered
In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside
Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most
So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist
He sluts around the house
Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out
Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.
Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.
He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.
Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.
You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.
CASSIAN
Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.
Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.
“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”
Tha man is flabbergasted
He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that
Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it
He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban
Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch
A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.
An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.
Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.
No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together
After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.
You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day
Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really
When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom
Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days
Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr
LUCIEN
Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate
“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.
Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.
“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.
He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.
“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”
You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.
“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”
You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile
“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.
He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good
Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work
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🏷️: @thelov3lybookworm @redbleedingrose @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @clairebear08 @rowaelinsdaughter @artists-ally @berryzxx @aroseinvelaris @cupidojenphrodite @jeannineee @daycourtofficial
1K notes · View notes
stormhearty · 3 months
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Paring: former Azriel x Reader
Triggers: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, cursing, a lot of bold and italicize
Word Count: 3K+
Summary: The High Lords called a meeting to discuss the Death-God’s resurrection. However, with the death of their Seer, tensions run high between Day and Night Court, Helion outraged by the loss of your life. Truths are revealed and lies are exposed. And what happens when the High Lords realize that they have all been too late?
Note: I thank you all for all the love you have given to my one shot!! I had never thought it would have been so well received by fans and writers! I am very amused by everyone's reactions and thoughts on the one shot — everyone is wanting blood and redemption for our poor reader. And she will! This chapter is a segway/filler chapter — but still important. It's still angsty, don't worry. This one shot will probably become a 3 part series. I know in that voting poll I had done asked if you guys wanted a 5k chapter, rather than a 2- 2k chapters, but I wanted to leave you guys with one more chapter to look forward to! Please look forward to it!
Part One | Part Three | Epilogue
<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist
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“You had abandoned my emissary, disregarded her sight and had her take her own life in your Court… And for what? Your mate’s sister’s powers?!” Helion was fuming, amber eyes staring the High Lord of Night down, “And that her mate — - “a growl escaped his lips, as he glanced at the Spymaster next to Rhysand, “Had cheated on her for said sister?!”
The High Lord of Day’s voice echoed throughout the throne room, shaking its very walls at the allegation of what had happen within the wards of the Night Court. Helion’s fingers gripped the edge of the large round table, his claws causing the wood to splint underneath his fingertips.
“And now… you are telling me that her body disappeared?” his voice deathly low, “That your Spymaster’s shadows had whisked her body away to — God-knows-where… That, that child, never had never had a proper burial?!”
Rhysand couldn’t utter a single word against the claims placed against him and his Court — he couldn’t when everything that Helion had roared was true.
“… Show me…” Helion hissed, focusing at his old friend, “Show us what had happened that day…”
Rhysand gulped, staring at Helion before glancing around the table towards the High Lords of Pyrthian. All of them staring him down before all felt the claws of Rhysand's power creeping in their minds, images of that day of your death playing in their minds — all of them watching the confrontation between the Inner Circle and you — on how you were cornered and betrayed, leading up to your very death.
He hated it. Rhysand not only relived that that multiple times during his dreams — where he had failed you. He now had to relieve it while he was awake. Hearing your pleads and cries for him to listen to your visions, and seeing your body dying on that marble floor — to watch it be taken away by tendrils of shadow.
Once the memory came to pass, sobs echoed throughout the room. Helion being the loudest as he ran a hand down his face, his form shaking in his seat. Rhysand glanced towards his Inner Circle, watching his family relive that moment as well; eyes focusing on Azriel, who gripped the arms of his chair as his face wrinkled in anguish at the memory.
It had been a month ever since your death, a month since the sliver of shadows that once served the Spymaster had taken your body away — unknown to even Azriel on where they had brought your body to. And a month ever since more and more whispers of Koschei’s resurrection echoed throughout the Courts. The Death-God’s power vibrating throughout all of Pyrthian — it was difficult to not miss.
The High Lords gathered in Day Court to strategize on the impending danger of the Death-God. However, it was no secret on what had happened in the wards of Night Court. The loss of your light present throughout all of Pyrthian — every High Lord felt it.
Especially Helion.
He wanted nothing more to hurt and maim every member of the Inner Circle; but that wasn’t the purpose of this meeting — though he wanted it to be.
Helion reigned in his emotions, trying to calm the rage that boiled in his blood. Trying to clam the sadness he felt for the loss of you. He straightened up in his chair, letting out a shaky breath, looking back at the Night Court High Lord.
“… I regret that I ever had sent (Y/N) to your Court, Rhysand,” his tone small and disappointed, “Her powers were wasted on you and your Court. A Seer taking their life, being betrayed by the people she called her family,” His head shaking, a laugh, one so loud and so sarcastic escaping his chest that it echoed in throne room, startling the other High Lords, making Rhysand flinch in his seat. “What a damn found family you made. Betraying one’s mate, betraying a person who had served you for five-hundred fucking years over a female who barely has control over her own powers.”
Amber eyes darted to Elain, as he watched her flinch back, hiding behind the eldest Archeron sister, “What prophecy have you seen now?” the sarcasm very evident in his tone, “Have you seen what (Y/N) has seen? Have you seen the resurrection of Kosechi, as well? Your powers are nothing compared to (Y/N)’s.”
“How dare you talk to someone in my Court like — -” Rhysand started.
“You have no right to challenge me in my own Court, Rhysand!” Helion bellowed, hands slamming on the table, standing up as he glared at his once-called friend, “Do you realize what you have done?! Do you realize why there hasn’t been a Seer in millennials? Why (Y/N) has been the only recorded Seer in the history of Pyrthian? Because Seers have been hunted — by Fae, humans and Gods alike. They are so sought after, for their power, for the knowledge, for their sight. Seers have the power to uncover what is hidden, lurking in the darkness. They are the very light that unveils the darkness. They have been hunted to be exterminated for that very power…”
It had been the very reason why Helion had taken you in when you were a child, guarded carefully in the Day Court. To ensure the prosper of your power, the prosper of your light.
Amber eyes darted around the table, eyes staring at the High Lords that had situated themselves in this very room, listening to his tale before they stared back at Rhysand, “You, being the powerfullest High Lord if all of Pyrthian should have known that. And now, her body, one filled with Unknown-God-and Cauldron bound powers is missing…”
A huff escaped his lips in exasperation as he sat down back into his seat, “Her body should be buried here, in my Court, where she rightfully belongs to. But, no. And none of us could properly pray respects for the loss of her light…”
It was no secret that Helion had a soft spot for you. You were like his child, raising you since you were small, watching you grow and become a bright light within the Day Court. He knew how your light felt, how he basked in it as if it was the sun that radiated overhead.
And so when he had woken up that night in cold sweat, feeling the vanishing of your light — he knew something had gone terribly wrong.
“… — Helion…” Feyre tentatively called out to him, “You said her body is Cauldron bound? What do you mean by that?”
The Day High Lord glanced at the High Lady, staring her down before he nodded his head once. Leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, “That’s what both myself and (Y/N) believe. (Y/N) is one the strongest Seers I have met in my life, those few Seers that I have encountered, ones that have wanted to remain hidden, are no match to (Y/N)’s powers. Your little Cauldon-Made Seer is no match for her either,” he sneered at the middle Archeron sister.
"There has been little records of Seers in Prythian, we all know that. Not even my libraries had enough information about them and their powers. But, despite that, (Y/N) was able to hone into her powers with little instructions… You know that she doesn’t just see the future, she was able to see what was happening now. She was able to focus on parts of Pyrthian and tell me what is and what will happen.
“But during the war with Hybern, much like when Nesta felt the Cauldron, (Y/N) felt it too. We didn’t know why, but we realized she and the Cauldron were somewhat connected. Whether it be the Cauldron was reason why she has her visions or if the Cauldron was the source of her power, they were bound. A natural connection between the two of them. And when the Cauldron broke, (Y/N) had told me she felt the Cauldron’s power sought refuge with her, as if the Cauldron sought her light.
“After the war, she had asked for my opinion — she felt the remnants of the Cauldron’s power tingling through her. She told me she saw more visions, visions of the far off future that she had no idea when would happen, and that her powers were starting to become out of her control. She was starting to lose herself in her powers, lose her mind to it… I didn’t know how to help her…”
The Inner Circle remembered, weeks after the end of the war, (Y/N) had asked if she could return to Day Court for a few weeks. Rhysand had let her, thinking it was not important. Azriel, too, didn’t question on her reason why she wanted to leave.
It was when they started to not care. When they started to focus their attention to Elain — the Seer that had defeated the King of Hybern.
Helion let out a broken laugh, staring at the Inner Circle, “I’m sure you never knew, did you? On how broken she started to be after the war. You never knew how her sleep was plagued with visions, that she couldn’t even close her eyes without images flashing behind them. Of how she sobbed in bed, wondering if she was in a dream or reality. She couldn’t differentiate anymore… And you…” eyes focusing on Azriel, “You never felt her pain because you put up a wall between your mating bond. Did you know, Azriel…”
The Day High Lord’s tone was seething, remembering those day.
“Did you know, how she cried for you? She begged down the bond for you to come and help. Wanting your protection, wanting to help sooth the pain she had felt? Wanting you just to be there? But all she could feel was the wall you placed, ignoring her… abandoning her when she needed all of you the most…
“I sent her back, hoping that all of you would help. I sent her back with sleeping tonics, hoping to help her with her sleep. Hoping that her family and mate would help her through her toughest time. Hoping that you all would see her. But I can see that never happened. That no matter how much she begged for you all to listen to her visions, to see her in pain, you ignored,” his voice was laced with anger, disappointment.
No one said a word. The air in the room tense and dense at the revelation that Helion lamented. No one knew of what you had gone through.
Azriel felt his his heart burn in his chest, as if his siphons were burning his skin — he felt the remnants of the broken mating bond in his chest, aching more at Helion’s words.
He didn’t know, he didn’t see, he didn’t feel the pain you were going through. He had ignored the tug of the bond when he had that wall up. He had been too infatuated with the middle Archeron sister, wanting her to feel belonged in their Court — all the while alienating the person who had been with him through thick and thin.
And, yet, he couldn’t do the same for you.
Bright blue eyes closed as Feyre silently mourned and apologized to the Heavens, to the night sky where you might have been.
But she realized on the implications of what had Helion had told them — that you might have been the Cauldron-bound object that Koschei needed to escape that lake.
She looked up at Rhysand, and he to her as they communicated down the bond. Both of them realizing what could happen.
The gesture wasn’t missed by Helion as he watched them, waiting for them to explain what they might have discovered. However, when they did not say anything, a growl escaped his chest.
“What is it?”
Feyre and Rhysand looked at the Day High Lord, hesitance shown in their features, “… It’s about what (Y/N) had told us. You all saw it in that memory…”
Helion thought, playing the memory back as he watched remembered your face, the anguish of your features shining through his head, listening to your words — your vision of what might pass.
“… That Koschei needed something from the Cauldron to be released from the lake,” Lucien pointed out from his spot next to Helion, the russete eye looking at Elain before back to Feyre.
“What if…” Tarquin mumbled, “…Koschei found (Y/N)’s body? If you and (Y/N) knew of the connection to the Cauldron, that the Cauldron sought her power. He could use her body to be freed from that lake.”
Helion looked at the Summer High Lord, amber eyes wide at the realization, “… If that were to come to pass, we would be doomed. (Y/N)’s body is probably soaked in Cauldron powers. It would be so easy for Koschei to be freed, and no one would ever notice. It is not impossible, but since (Y/N)’s body has disappeared, it is possible for her to have fallen into his clutches.”
Kallias, in the mist of the conversation, was watching, observing, the only remaining Seer in the room. He leaned forward, bright blue hues staring the Made-Fae, as he rested both arms on the table, “Have you had any visions?”
Heads turned towards the High Lord of Winter at his question. It did not phase him, as he continued, ”I heard from your High Lady that you rarely said anything about your visions, since the Cauldron broke. So do tell us, what have you seen about the Death-God?” If she had her powers still, a Seer would be still useful in this situation.
Elain visibly swallowed, as all attention was on her once more. Brown eyes frantically glanced around the table, over to her sisters and then to Azriel who both looked at her expectedly.
A heartbeat later, and the Middle Archeron sister knew that she couldn't lie.
She shook her head, “I have not seen anything… since the Cauldron broke…” her words nothing but a whisper in the wind.
It was as if a pin dropped on marble floors, the silence in the room was penetrating.
A laugh broke the silence. Eris’ shook his in disbelief on the drama they were hearing, “So you’re telling us, you have been lying about having your powers. And that (Y/N), who has actually seen those visions had taken her life?” he glared at the middle Archeron sister, “For what? Because you needed a position in the Night Court? So that you can gain the Spymaster’s affection? To bed him?”
Elain shook her head again, brown eyes desperate as she tried to catch eye with her family, with Nesta, who just looked away, brows furrowed with anguish, “… I just wanted to be useful…” she whispered in fear, slumping down in her chair, “My powers… were the only thing that made me feel like I belonged… But I didn’t have them, and… I just, didn’t want to lose my family.”
“And yet, you were willing to let (Y/N) lose her family, her mate… and her life. Just to keep your own,” Thesan expressed, "That selfishness will be the downfall of Pyrthian."
Elain flinched at the truth thrown onto her face, eyes down-casting, silence taking over her form.
Before anyone could reprimand Elain for her actions, the grand doors slammed open, a dark mist blowing throughout the room. Frightened and confused screams echoed through the room.
Helion stood up, using his power of light to dissipate the darkness that tried to cover the room. Amber eyes glowed as he watched as a cloaked figure float into the room.
Eyes watched the cloaked figure as it settled its form onto the floor, bare pale feet touching the marble.
“… I would think… that if the Pyrthian High Lords would gather… they would invite a God to their meeting. But I guess, manners do not exist in this world…” the voice was grating and brittle.
The hood swept, as if eyes inside were looking at all the High Lords that were now standing up, all attention to him.
A eerie chuckle escaped the hooded figure, spiny fingers grasping the edge before slipping it down. White hair and black eyes were revealed, pale, sickly skin glowed underneath the darkness that had surrounded him.
The figure bowed, a mocking gesture to the High Lords.
“It seems, that you are unaware of who you are being greeted by…” a boney finger raised up and pointed towards Nesta, the eldest sister stiffening, “Though I’m quite sure you do, dearest sister…” he grinned at her.
Nesta gulped and looked at the uninvited guest. She knew who would greet her like that — only the Death Caver has echoed the same words, “You’re Koschei… aren’t you…”
Koschei grinned wider, head tilting to the side as he stepped forward, laughing as the High Lords ready themselves for a battle with the Death-God.
“Oh don’t be so tense, my High Lords…” he mockingly commented, sweeping a hand, “Please sit… Do not stop your meeting for dear little old me. Though it is such an honor for you to do so.”
He rounded the table, eyes making contact with each of the High Lord, black eyes sweeping over their forms before he stopped before Rhysand.
Violet hues and black sockets stared at each other.
“Though I do have to thank you, High Lord of the Night… You have gifted me the precious gift of life. Though, it was through the loss of one of your own… You might have known her. Cared for her… Loved her…” Koschei looked at Azriel whose hazel eyes burned at the Death-God.
He let out a low laugh.
Tarquin’s assumption was right — the Death-God had used your body to free himself from the lake, right underneath their noses. No one felt it, no one knew. And it had been too late to do anything about it; months too late to prevent the resurrection, months too late to find your missing body, months too late of not listening to you.
Koschei looked behind him, far past the grand windows, the familiar cry of the bird of fire and ash echoing through the lands of Day Court, heading towards them — Vassa had come to stop the sorcerer-lord from his destruction.
However, before she landed on the balcony, an arrow, made of shadow and darkness struck her, causing the great bird to plummet to the land beneath her.
Lucien gasped and ran towards the balcony, peering down to see if the mortal queen had survived the fall; but there was no sign of the cursed queen anywhere below.
“What a dramatic entry by Vassa, as always…” Koschei said with a sigh, before another chuckle escaped his lips, dark eyes boring into the empty spot beside him, “Don’t you think… (Y/N)?”
All heads snapped towards the Deathless God, your name slipping from his lips, as they watched a swirl of darkness materialized a familiar figure. Azriel watched, hazel eyes wide as he took in your form, whisps of shadows that had whirled around you — his shadows, one that had abandoned him ever since your death.
“…(Y/N)…” Azriel whispered in disbelief, his voice shaking.
There you stood, next to the Death-God, very much alive.
Very much like a Death-God yourself.
And it echoed in your outfit — tendrils of shadow made up your dress, covering you from head to toe, fluttering near your feet as if a gown swayed by the wind. In your hands, a bow and arrow made of those shadows — the very bow that had struck Vassa down from her flight.
That was where Azriel’s shadows had gone to — leaving him, following you to your death, and making you someone completely different.
Someone that was going to be the downfall of Pyrthian itself.
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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months
Note
So, here is my humble request 👀:
Reader is afab Illyrian, got her wings clipped (because we hate this tradition that’s why and because I am too much into enemies to lovers) and the Bat Boys consider her something close to a little sister.
When Eris was making a deal with the NC to get their help to kill Beron and that shit, his bond snapped with reader.
Obviously problematic for him because he has been insulting Illyrians since his mom popped him out about 500+ years ago.
So…bonus points for: smut obvs.- go as filthy as you like, Lucien absolutely mocking Eris for FUMBLING desperately to get his charm going, reader being oblivious.
I hope this sparks some ideas and creativity 🥰🤞🏻
Would That I -- Part 1
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A/n: This was too good not to make into a multi-part fic, so expect more soon. Smut will be coming!
Pairing: Eris X Illyrian!Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut, pining, mentions of mental health
Word Count: 3,638
Summary: You hate him. You hate the very thought of him. And yet he's your mate. The Mother has a cruel sense of humour.
Part 2 Part 3
Fury rippled through your body like a forest fire. You were livid. And Cassian had the nerve to laugh at you. Well, stifle a laugh. Rhysand was watching him with a worried look as he tried to give him a silent warning to stop. This progressed to warning him mind to mind when you got up from the sofa, flinging a pillow so far it almost landed into the fireplace. Azriel flinched.
“Him!?” You seethed, finally breaking the silence you had kept since your return from that damned High Lord meeting. Cassian snorted softly and you rounded on him with a deathly calm. Rhys made a small noise in the back of his throat.
“Is this funny to you, brother? I’m shackled to that evil, pompous, ginger-haired freak and you’re laughing?” His smile had dropped and a look of fear was quickly overcoming his rugged features. You stepped closer to him, your finger in his face. “Don’t sleep too deeply tonight.”
Rhysand cleared his throat.
“Look, this doesn’t have to be the end of the world. You don’t have to accept the bond. We can make sure you never see him again.” The bond snarled through you at that and you growled.
“Sure Rhys, because you were so calm when you found out Feyre was your mate.”
His brow furrowed.
“So you want to be with Eris?” The name seemed to physically disgust him. Azriel scoffed, abruptly rising from the sofa and marching out of the room. Cassian eyed the doorway in his wake. You turned to Rhys.
“No!” You groaned in frustration, pacing up and down on the carpet like a caged animal. Cassian’s eyes darted between Rhys and you. Finally deciding to break things up he manhandled you into a hug. You fought it for a few moments, before giving up and collapsing into your brothers embrace, hot angry sobs wrenching through you. Rhys took this as his cue to leave, and winnowed—probably to his office—out of the room. Cassian rubbed soothing circles on your back, careful to avoid your wings that were ever more sensitive after the clipping.
You were clipped at thirteen, which is how you had come to live with the three brothers. In Windhaven, they clipped your wings the day you started your cycle. Once grounded there was no escaping your duties, nor any chance to leave the camp. Unless, of course, you had grown close with the High Lord’s son, who had a mother with a habit of collecting strays.
You were there through all of it, the highs, the lows, and Morrigan’s tumultuous relationship with one Eris Vanserra. The male you were now mated to.
---
In the Forest House, Eris was pacing. His throat was still sore from the memory of Azriel’s scarred hand, and his cheek burned from the slap that had earned him from his father. But all of that had been overshadowed. He knew as soon as he saw you. His heart had lurched in his chest so hard he had thought he might throw up. You were the most beautiful female he had ever laid his eyes on. And of course, you were from the Night Court. The Mother truly did have a cruel sense of humour.
You had walked in, looking as arrogant as the rest of them, sharing a secret smile with the shadowsinger before sitting down next to the High Lord. Eris, next to his mother, couldn’t rip his eyes from you. Your doe eyes, sharp and intelligent captured his attention first. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them, to find out everything about you: What you liked to read, your favourite food, how best to pleasure you and have you screaming his name. He was pulled from his fantasies by your wings. Cauldron, your magnificent wings. Their beauty stole breath from his lungs as they unfurled, getting comfortable on the chair. You had smiled at Feyre, warm and supportive, and Eris knew he was utterly lost.
He finally stopped his pacing, locked inside his room, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He sat there, holding his head in his hands until he heard the scratch of claws at the door. Getting up with a weary sigh, he opened it only to be knocked to the ground by his oldest and most loyal smokehound.
“Cheddar.” He chided as she licked his face excitedly. “Cheddar Biscuit.” He said, sternly, and she leapt off of him, waiting by the door expectantly.
“Yes alright, I suppose it’s time for a walk.” Cheddars tail thumped faster against the door frame and Eris couldn’t help the smile that grew. “Go and fetch your brothers and sisters then.” He said, grabbing the leashes off the wall. A walk was one way to clear his mind.
---
As you had predicted, Rhys was holed up in his office when you went looking for him. He barely looked up at you as you entered.
Rhysand’s office was always meticulously organised, but as you came up behind his chair you noticed how messy his desk had become. Letters and notes were piled on every inch of space, his childhood stuffed bat sitting atop one pile as a makeshift paperweight.
He loosed a breath.
“We are going to war, Y/n.” He said quietly, and any thoughts of Eris Vanserra eddied from your mind. Rhys looked up at you with bloodshot eyes. Guilt coursed through you for ever caring about something as trivial as a mating bond when you and your brothers were set for battle. You had only just got Rhys back from under the mountain, only to potentially lose him again.
“Is it certain?” You asked, leaning down to rest your head on his shoulder.
“Yes.”
“Is Cass--?”
“Leaving for Windhaven by first light.” He answered.
“Ok.”
Rhys turned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He knew what you were thinking, though you wished you weren’t.
“Eris is an awful male, Y/n. You know I could never support the bond between you. Azriel is...well, I’m sure you already know.”
You did. The moment he had stormed out of the room you had known this was the beginning of a negative spiral for Az. Not to mention the upcoming war. You stood up straight.
“That being said.” Rhys continued. “Eris is ensuring Autumn allies with us against Hybern. There is a certain political advantage to the match.”
You scoff.
“Like there was with Mor?” Rhys turned green. “What did Eris bargain for in return for Autumn’s support? What did you trade away, Rhys?”
Rhysand looked every bit five centuries old when he turned to you.
“Our support in his bid for the throne. Whenever that may be.”
Hatred for the male burst anew in your gut, fiercer still now that you were mated to him.
“That power hungry bastard.” You spat.
Rhysand sighed.
“He could never deserve you, starlight. I will make sure that he never sees you again. I will not lose another sister.”
---
It wasn’t until midnight that you saw Azriel. The last of your brothers to approach you. He let himself into your room, waking you, tattered blanket draped around his shoulders. Rhys’ mother had sewn it for him years ago, before you had come to live with them. It had helped him through many hard nights. So much so that it was threadbare and faded. Rhys had enchanted it not to break further as a solstice gift one year.
You sat up worried.
“Az? Are you ok? You didn’t—”
“No,” He assured, and you relaxed against the pillows, “I’m ok.”
You shuffled over in your bed to make space for him, and he laid next to you, blanket over the both of you.
“I hate him.” He said into the darkness. “I hate what he did to Mor. I hate everything he stands for. I will not let him have you.” He declared.
You snuggled up to your eldest brother.
“I don’t know why you all seem convinced I’m going to somehow fall for this prick.” You said, and he snorted. “I hate him as much as you do.”
Azriel tucked you under his arm.
“I know.” You smiled tiredly, somehow understanding the words Azriel left unsaid. The words Rhys had been able to express. Azriel’s shadows settled over your heart, confirming, and the two of you fell asleep.
---
Months later, Eris sat in a tent, head between his legs to stop from throwing up. Thousands were dead. Thousands more were surely destined to die. Two of his brothers, and his mate, fought on the battlefield.
He only had a moments warning before he was violently sick into a bucket.
Asher, his youngest brother before Lucien, chose this moment to enter his tent unannounced, scowling at the sight of Eris hunched over and retching.
“Can’t handle the bloodshed, brother?” He teased, though he sat next to Eris and put a warm hand on his shoulder. The gaping wound on his neck was healing quickly, as it should with the High Lords power coursing through his veins, but the sight of it set Eris off again. He heaved into the bucket, choosing to ignore the gagging sound Asher made.
“Eris you need to pull yourself together. Father is only a tent over.”
Eris rolled his eyes.
“Just show me your plans, Ash.”
“I don’t know, maybe I’m better off keeping them to myself, seeing as you’re battlesick.” Asher grimaced when Eris finally sat up and pushed the bucket away from him.
“Asher.” Eris’ voice held all the command of General, and eldest brother. Asher groaned petulantly as he handed over the plans.
In Eris’ opinion, not that Beron took any heed, Asher should never have taken on as much responsibility in this war. After Ceres had died, Ash had taken over as Eris’ right hand. Ceres had been more naturally suited to the role, Beron’s bloodlust had run as deep as his bones, and he had a sharp mind for strategy. Eris still mourned the boy he had raised—a quick witted, chess loving, boisterous child—but he had to accept, he had lost Ceres long before he had died. And Eris wasn’t keen on losing anyone else. Asher wasn’t comfortable with a sword, the gash in his neck clear evidence, and he had a wife and child that weakened his resolve. This is what Eris had to work with. And he had a job to do.
He let Asher discuss his plans, though he was unable to rip his mind from providing a hundred different ways that he could die, that Ash or Lucien could die, that you could die.
It took every ounce of training ingrained in him not to falter in his attack the moment he had caught sight of you, fighting your way through the onslaught, Mor by your side. Cauldron, you were ethereal. Your silken wings were spread as if they could carry you into the air, though he had long since guessed that they could not. You cut through your enemies with a frightening ease. Catching his eye, you hesitated just a second, then your face had turned to rage and the next Hybern soldier to cross your path had been beheaded so brutally that even he had to avert his gaze.
When he had looked back up, you were gone, lost in the chaos.
Asher sighed,
“You’re not listening.” He said, and Eris had the decency to feel bad. He looked at Ash wearily.
“Come back in the morning. I’ll be more attentive.” Ash just peered at him over his notes.
“It’s her isn’t it. It’s Y/n.”
“Yes.” Eris said, lacking the energy to lie.
“She’s Night Court. She’s not one of us. One day you’ll find a nice Autumn girl to marry and when you’re High Lord she can pop out a few Autumn court babies.”
“She is my mate.” Eris growled.
“Mate’s aren’t always meant to be Eris. It’s only a biological match, not a political one. When you find an Autumn Court lady you’ll wonder why you ever spent time worrying over some Night Court harlot.” Eris snarled, despite himself. His brothers words were wrenched straight from Beron’s throat and he wouldn’t stand for it. Not from Asher. Not from his kind, loving Ash.
“Get out.” He said. Asher looked surprised, and—Eris was pleased to see—ashamed. He made no moves to leave, so Eris repeated himself, sharper this time.
“Get out.” He snapped, “Come back in the morning with more sense.”
Asher, chastised, fled from the tent, and Eris buried his head in his hands. What use was there protecting you from his brothers when it was certain your own said the same about him. There was no denying the cruel twist of fate the Mother had pulled on the both of you, destined to crash and burn. He imagined you in your own tent, laughing at the thought of him speared on another males sword. Mor sat next to you whispering all the terrible things he had done that day, terrible things to twist your mind and poison the very notion of him. He was too late, he was nothing but soot in the deep pit of your heart, choking the both of you.
He felt blindly for the bond, and found it, rotten.
---
The war was over, but the scars it had left were red raw and bleeding. Rhys had died. Your brother. The one who had sheltered you, loved you, given you a home and a family for a few agonising minutes had been gone. Gone. And yet that Cauldron damned bond had been chafing in the back of your mind. You sat in your bedroom riddled with guilt as it plagued your mind. Eris. Eris. Eris. He infested your mind, your senses, you were consumed by the very thought of him.
Walking through the streets of Velaris had started to feel claustrophobic, being around anyone beginning to suffocate you. You felt safer on your own. Recently you had taken to sheltering in your room, only emerging to eat. Your brothers eyed you with poorly concealed worry every time you walked, ghostlike, through the house, shuffling to the kitchen to fix a plate of leftovers then retreat hastily to your safe space.
Nesta was struggling too, after the war. It had left its scars in all of you. You could feel Cassian’s heart breaking the day Rhys sent her away with him, but all you could think about was whether your brother would do that to you. You thought you knew the looks he gave you.
Disgust.
What use was a flightless Illyrian female, who couldn’t train, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think. He was dead. Rhys was dead. And then he wasn’t. Why were Seren and your mother not afforded the same luxury. You grieved, and cried, and screamed. It truly was a sick thing, to use to the miracle of Rhys’ living to guilt yourself into believing there was hope for them. But then, everything in your mind had twisted of late.
Nesta began training. Nesta began healing. And you were stuck in your room.
Every morning without fail, Azriel came to check on you. He stroked your hair until you woke up, then retreated when you once again rejected his invitations to join them. The Valkyries, they were calling themselves. You would have been proud of Nesta if you could feel anything anymore.
Occasionally, you could feel a light tug on the bond, on the shackles that kept you bound to Eris. The first few times you had thrown up. Now it was little more than an annoyance. You were his dog, disobediently pulling your leash as you fell further and further into nothingness. His face in your mind was as cold as it had been on the battlefield as he yanked you back, choking you. You spluttered. Standing weakly, you made your way down to the kitchen, setting water on the stove to boil.
“Sister.” Cassian’s voice rang out behind you and you flinched, dropping your teaspoon. He bent to pick it up and set it down on the counter. “Azriel says you’ve been ignoring him. You’ve been ignoring all of us.”
You shrugged, the familiar pang of guilt squeezing your chest, making it difficult to breath. You braced both hands on the counter top, taking a ragged breath. Cassian was beside you in a heartbeat, holding you in his arms.
“Y/n, I’m worried about you. We all are.” He squeezed you closer to him, closer than you had allowed anyone in months. “Come and stay with Nes and I. Az is a terrible chaperone, and I need to see you. You could be wasting away down here and I wouldn’t know until it was too late.”
You shook your head, though you no longer knew why you resisted him. Your body melted against him, muscle memory taking over as he enveloped you in his wings. You swore you heard him sniffling as you hugged him back.
“Please, y/n.” He said, voice shaking. It didn’t take much more convincing.
A few days later, Rhys was helping you unpack your bags in your new room in the House of Wind. You took the room next to Azriel, who—Cassian had explained—was falling into bad habits again: Not eating, not sleeping, waking up in a cold sweat when he did finally drop off. Cassian wasn’t doing as well as he wanted you to believe, either. Twice in the following week you woke up to find him taking things from your room. And once, when you had floated downstairs in a miserable haze, you found him throwing up in the kitchen sink, an empty plate that had once held a batch of Elain’s cookies sitting on the table.
Nesta had dragged you to Valkyrie training a few times, and whilst you were beyond their current skill level, it had taken your mind off of things. Cassian’s eyes gleamed with pride everytime Nesta mastered an attack or a block. He touched her affectionately, he teased her, he lingered as she passed to breath in her scent. Watching them together was as painful as it was sweet. How simple love could be.
Would that you could be half as lucky.
Slowly you were emerging from your shell. You could smile again. Nesta invited you to read with her and the Valkyries, and in the silence you found firm friendship. Emerie was a gift from the Mother herself. You bonded instantly, both of you clipped, grounded, but neither broken. Many late nights were spent talking, about books, your brothers, or about Eris. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn knew little of the Autumn prince, but you appreciated their outside perspective on the bond. It was still a bitter taste in your mouth, but it was becoming more bearable with each passing week.
---
There was a ball approaching in the Hewn City and Rhys had asked Nesta to attend. Not long after, she asked you to join her.
“I can’t do this alone, Y/n, please.” She said one night, sitting at the end of your bed. You bit your lip, unsure.
“Eris will be there.” You said.
“I’ll be the one dancing with him. Rhys wants him falling madly in love with me. He won’t look your way, I promise.” Nesta said. You knew she meant well by that. You had never wanted him anywhere near you before. But something about her oath left a sting. You frowned, which she took to mean you were still unconvinced.
“Please, Y/n. My sisters will be there, Rhys will be there. I’m not ready to face them all on my own, not yet.”
And so you found yourself stood atop the stairs the following week, draped in a black dress with a slit so high up one side your whole leg was practically exposed. The back scooped so low the dimples at the bottom of your spine peeked over top. You were devastating. Death in midnight silk. Rhys’ smile was that of pure brotherly pride as you walked down the steps, your hair pinned in braids and curls.
Nesta stole your breath away as she appeared in the hallway, but it wasn’t your gaze she sought out. You looked towards Cassian and could have sworn he was drooling. Eris would be blind-sided by her, of that you had no doubt.
In the Hewn City, they danced like lovers. Nesta as dangerous in the ballroom as she had become on the training grounds. Every move was calculated, every parting of her lips a dance of the mind, designed to ensnare Eris in her dastardly web. Eris was caught. And you burned.
Standing next to Azriel, heat rolled off you in waves. He took a step towards you, perhaps to offer you a drink, but found something in your eyes to make him change his mind. You hadn’t taken your eyes off of Eris all night. He was sinful. A courtier and a Prince. His hair pooled over his shoulders, one strand to the front neatly braided. You reminded yourself that this was the male that left your cousin for dead at his Court border. Biting your lip, your mind wandered to see yourself lying prone beneath him as he stood, smile widening, cock hardening in his—
“Get me a drink.” You ordered Az. He raised an eyebrow.
“What’s the magic word.”
“Azriel.” You growled, and he turned on his heel. Your eyes stayed pinned on Eris as he led Nesta across the dancefloor in a tantalizing waltz. His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a fraction of surprise before his emerald eyes darkened. He licked his lips, eyes locked with yours as he leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Nesta’s neck.
A/N: I have to thank @fandomsmultiverse for talking to me and giving me about 100 ideas to flesh this story out, I really hope you like it! There will be a part 2 coming soon! I wouldn't just leave you on a cliffhanger like that. We will see more of Eris and Reader interacting, and maybe.....some smut...
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imxnotxhere · 5 months
Text
Acotar Men Fic Recs
** Updated 09/02/2024 **
I already made a list for azriel which was actually meant as a list for all the characters I read for but I read a lot more of azriel fics because he's my baby and the list was getting too long. So here are the rest of the characters and I also added some more azzy drabbles sorry
Azriel (drabbles)
@gothicbabydollz
az spitting in your mouth - smut
@princess-tulip-writes
az pleasuring his mate with truthteller - smut, big fan of truthteller
@fieldofdaisiies
azriel... - fluff, smut
azriel's hands - fluff, smut
Rhysand
@azsazz
dioxazine part 2 - fluff, smut, modern au, art school au
the lord's work - smut
if you should die before you wake - smut, rhys x cass x azriel x reader
just hold on - smut
a court of four horsemen - smut, part of a series
double duty - smut, rhys x reader x cass
what's mine - smut, rhys x eris x reader
@tadpolesonalgae
mine - smut, check warnings!
knocked up - smut
vampire!rhysand drabble - smut
professor!rhys headcanons part 2 - smut
soothing - fluff, aftercare
@leafsandstarlight
easy like sunday morning - fluff, smut
@azrielbrainrot
my body keeps saying it's yours - smut
@writingsbychlo
home to us - fluff
rhys as a pleasure dom - smut - technically a drabble? blurb?
@azrielscrown
mirror mirror - smut
daylight - fluff
@acourtofwhatthefuck
shrinking violet - smut
@shadowdaddies
if i catch you i fuck you - smut
Cassian
@azsazz
mirror mirror - smut
take it - smut
a court of four horsemen - smut, part of a series
@tadpolesonalgae
on the strategy board - smut
pools of sunlight - fluff
@leafsandstarlight
halley's comet - angst, smut
@princess-tulip-writes
drabble - smut - az x cass x reader
Eris
@acourtofmenandthirst
runaway - angst, smut
fox hunting - smut
closed until further notice - fluff, smut, coffee shop au
smut blurb
smut blurb II
@leafsandstarlight
destiny's battleground - angst, smut
my lovely throne - smut
despite our differences - angst, smut, series
the prince of blood part 2 part 3 - vampire!eris
@tadpolesonalgae
servitude - smut
thumb prints - smut
@serpentandlily
sly fox, dumb bunny - series
@azsazz
the burning of the autumn leaves and the roaring of my yearning heart - angst, smut
soul on fire - smut
a court of four horsemen - smut, part of a series
@azrielbrainrot
fire on fire - angst?
@gothicbabydollz
riding eris' face - smut, drabble
riding eris' thigh - smut, drabble
@honeybeefae
cauldron fated - angst, smut
@princess-tulip-writes
making out with eris while giving him a handjob - smut, drabble
praise kink eris - smut, drabble
Lucien
@tadpolesonalgae
solecist night - smut
@acourtofwhatthefuck
yell at me again - smut
personal problem - smut
the moon on a string - fluff
@princess-tulip-writes
drabble - smut
drabble - smut, az x lucien x reader (kind of)
@gothicbabydollz
dom lucien - smut, human!reader
Helion
@leafsandstarlight
a high lord's scholar - fluff
@tadpolesonalgae
new mechanisms - smut
sweet like peaches - smut
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mischiefmanagers · 7 months
Text
Azriel Fic Rec Library 🦇💙
In no particular order, here's an extensive list of Azriel x Reader or Azriel x OC fics that I've compiled for those who can't get enough of him. I literally maxed out the number of tags/links you can include on a post for this 😂
🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut
by @acourtofmenandthirst
You Called 🥀💞
by @moonlightazriel
Before you 🔥🥀
The truth about you 🥀💞🔥
The family we choose 💞
by @thelov3lybookworm
I Didn't Ask For This 🌼🥀
Finally Safe 🌼🥀
My brother. 💞
by @writingsbychlo
SWEET LIKE SUGAR 🌼💞🥀
false confessions 🌼🥀
how we survive 🥀
by @readychilledwine
Slow Hands 🌼💞🔥
Bound by Fate 🌼🥀💞🔥
Little Bat, Big Dreams 💞
Beauty in Pain 🥀
Devotion 💞
by @leafsandstarlight
Forced Revelations
by @lalacliffthorne
the basic rules of friendship 💞🔥
motorcycle 💞
by @bubbles-for-all-of-us
Hear the lonely cry out 🥀
Can you love me most? 🥀
Baby daddy 💞
by @draemgal
master of disguise 💞
by @azsazz
Nightlight 🥀
Wrong Side of the Right Coin Azriel x Reader x Eris 🥀
Just Hold On 🥀💞
What Lies Ahead
Bleed for Me
by @xoxonyxx
What Should've Been 💞
by @illyrian-dreamer
Spin the bottle 💞🥀
Our girl Azriel x Cassian x Reader 🥀
by @acourtofwhatthefuck
Practice On Me 💞🔥
by @danikamariewrites
Sixth Sense 💞
Shell 💞
Fever Dreams 🥀💞
Please Don't Go 🥀💞
Pointless Fights 🥀
Perfect Princess 💞
by @lidiasloca
more than this 🥀
by @tadpolesonalgae
please... 🌼🥀
washing his wings 💞
Can't Bring Myself To Hate You 🌼🥀🔥
His Personal Assistant
by @mother-above
The Golden Warrior 🌼
by @aquanova99
The Shadow and the Seraphim
by @fieldofdaisiies
Oh Those Romance Novels 🔥
Love's A Burden 🥀
by @ellievickstar
Between Two worlds
by @florence-end
Worst kept secret 💞
Stitch up
by @redheadspark
Reunited 💞🥀
Hold 🥀💞
by @acourtofmarvels
Miracle 🥀
by @bookish-whore
Haunted 🥀
by @honeybeefae
7 Minutes In Heaven 🔥🔥
Shadows of Fire Azriel x Reader x Eris 🔥🔥
by @reverie-verse
Ooops Mating Bond 🌼💞
by @cassiefromhell
Unexpected Azriel x Reader x Eris 💞🥀
by @ladylokilaufeyson5
A Little Helping Hand 🌼💞
I Will Always Find You 💞🥀
by @azrielhours
Soft Spot 🌼🔥💞
I want you to rest 💞🥀
Kiss Thief 💞
Soul Song 💞
Restless Dreams 🥀
Stolen Away 💞
Waiting for You 💞🥀
by @liahaslosthermind
Swarming children and elbows to the face 💞
by @itsphoenix0724
Tickle My Strings 🔥
by @jeannineee
Apology 💞
Umbra et Ventus
Blue and Red Azriel x Cassian x Reader
Stubble 💞
Illyrian Babies Azriel x Cassian x Reader 💞
Closure 🥀🔥
by @violette-hue
Fated 🔥
by @angelshadowsinger
Supposed to Be Together 🥀🔥
Prized Possession 🥀💞
by @callmeblaire
little friends 💞
by @fairydustblossom
tied to you 🥀💞
losing control🥀💞
pre relationship fluff 💞
by @throneofsapphics
up all night Azriel x Reader x Cassian 💞
by @arrantsnowdrop
Starlight 💞
Wrongly Accused 🥀🔥💞
by @clairebear08
Hide and Seek 💞
Betrayal 🥀
by @starlightandsouls
My Angel 💞
Yours To Keep And Cherish 💞
Bookshop Brawls 💞
by @azrielscrown
the secret of seduction 💞🔥
wake me up. 💞
by @glittergelpensblog
Shadow and Song
In the Dark
by @azriels-shadowsinger
brother's best friend 💞
by @xreaderbooks
Two sides 🥀
by @vacant--body
stay with me 🥀🔥
by @whisperingmidnights
We Shall Become Monsters 🌼
by @wishfulwithwine
You Belong With Me 🥀
by @queen--of--shadows
Healing Shadows 🌼
by @ochiolism
winter's frost
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historiaxvanserra · 5 months
Text
These Violent Delights | An Eris Vanserra story
Summary: At a ball in Hewn City, you meet your match in Eris Vanserra
Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader (brief mentions of Azriel x reader)
Word Count: 7.6k
Previously called If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power. I changed the name to adapt if from a one shot into a series.
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You had been born on a night like this, you think. The storm-streaked clouds line the heavens like flowering hydrangeas as they dissolve into a black abyss and the moonlight shines like pearls on the water where the horizon meets the Sidra. 
Storm-streaked they had called you. 
When you were a little girl, your father had told you that you had come into this world in the same way as the old Gods had. Born from the merciless depths of some unknowable blue-darkness; cruel and beautiful, and fearless. 
Now fear is all you know. 
The crack of forked white lightening against the darkening horizon pushes you further into introspective thought. The visions come with the quiet; flashes of silver and gold and the icy embrace of the water. That infernal cauldron and what it had taken from. It haunts you, even in dreaming.  
Of late, the days seem to pass in a state of perpetual purgatory, marred by memories and the water– an unforgiving tempest that tears through you. 
The water cleanses but it also devastates. 
Your father had once called you water; the salt and the sea. 
You had always wondered what that meant. 
But here you stand-- a storm incarnate; volatile, half-wild and isolating. And who can become the water without inheriting its violence, or its loneliness?
The feeling of harsh violet eyes on you is enough to drag you gaze from your spot near the balcony and the storm as it rages outside. 
“Are you ready, Nesta?” Rhysand’s voice is velvet night as it reverberates around the small waiting room. 
A chill runs down your spine when you catch his eyes, glinting and violet in the dim light. You regard Nesta cooly as she tilts her chin upwards. 
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Nesta’s eyes are lined with kohl and looking at her is like looking into the eye of a storm.
She always had an austere kind of beauty that left you speechless. 
Rhysand only nods simply before taking Feyre’s arm and approaching the large doorway. Nesta and Elain fall into rank behind them with practiced ease. It is you who hovers awkwardly in the background for a moment before taking your place in the middle of the formation. A solitary figure amongst them. 
You swallow thickly and you catch the lingering scent of a night chilled mist as you bristle. A whisper of night wraps itself around you like a cold comfort. These days his scent seems to follow you like a shadow; though, you suppose when you’ve spent every night this week wrapped around him, trying to drown out your own thoughts, there is bound to be a trace of him that lingers there.
At last, the towering doors to the throne room yawned open. 
The throne room is lined with black candles and evergreen wreaths frame the doorway, and moonflowers climb up the high, onyx pillars like ivy. And on each side of the aisles there were two magnificent banquet tables, piled high with food enough to feed a city. Though it was not to be touched without express permission from the High Lord.
A ripple of dark power reverberates through the mountain as The High Lord and Lady enter the throne room. You swear you feel the mountain wail in their presence. It is a powerful thing and you feel something within yourself begin to stir with it. 
A cold rage as it makes a home in your chest. 
The courtiers pale as they approach, parting like the tide as their High Lord and High Lady brush through them, crowned in silver crystals and garbed in midnight black robes. 
Rhysand looks beautiful you think as your eyes find him in the procession-- he stands tall against you all, his hair perfectly quaffed and the rich scent of mandarin and night-blooming jasmine seems to follow him.
All that pales in comparison to Feyre; the dress she wears is like tangible shadow. Gossamer thin silk and tulle that glitters with flecks of silver starlight, all gathered about her waist with a thin belt that accentuates the swell of her stomach. 
The room beholds her with baited breath; a sense of awe and ire. 
She looks like the visage of some ancient Goddess of the moon; pale and beautiful in the silvery light. 
You sense a shift in the air as they approach the dias and Rhysand’s shoulders tense; he is a picture of male pride. There is a dangerous quality to it that chills you to the bone. A cold violence that feels almost kindred to you. Feyre’s full red lips part and she smiles until it seems to dampen Rhys’s anger as he reaches for her as they climb the steps of the onyx dias. 
Keir’s face is twisted in a half-grimace, somewhere between astonishment and anguish. Behind him the Eris Vanserra remains fixed in place, his face set in a painfully neutral expression as he regards the High Lord and Lady. 
Motion from behind you beckons you to move as Nesta and Elain fall into step with you and begin to pace the length of the aisle and approach the dias. 
All three of you are dressed in Night Court black. A symbol of your place amongst the royal family. A warning of the dark power which you all possessed. Stolen and gifted from that cauldron. A reminder of your value. It is a carefully rehearsed routine as Nesta takes her place between you both, the flare of her skirts bushing against the marble floor with each long stride. You and Elain flank her sides like two wraiths. 
Elain looks sallow in black, you think as you catch her eyes. A poor initiation of the coldness you wear so well etched onto her beautiful face and steely determination in her dark, rich eyes. 
Nesta outshines you all tonight-- her golden hair braided into a crown atop her head and a delicate crown glints in the lantern light, slender spikes jutting forward in a dark corona. Her wicked eyes glinted like cobalt in the light. She’s dressed all in black. The gown itself is skin tight and embroidered with intricate silver brocade, twisting vines and moonflowers adorn the velvet bodice, tracing the curve of her breasts and sinking low, to her navel where the silver thread gathers about a sapphire that matches the crystals on her crown. 
Nesta is a cruel beauty; enough to bring a God to his knees. 
And Cassian looks about ready to sink to his knees before her as you regard him on the dias. 
Nestas moves with a feline grace, expressive and smirking as she takes her place between Cassian and Elain on the platform. 
Feyre and Rhysand sink into their thrones with a measured grace and from your stop between Elain and Azriel you can see all the eyes in the room as they flit from one member of the Inner Circle to the next. 
But it is the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra that you meet in the gathering crowd. He offers you a courteous nod and the ghost of a smirk graces his full lips and you send a scathing look in his direction in return.
You hope he feels the bitter sting of your coldness as your eyes try to find anything else in the throne room to focus on. 
Azriel rolls on the balls of his feet as the silence settles in the room and he inches so close to you that you feel the scarred pads of his fingers brush the exposed skin of your back. 
“You look good in black,” his voice is impossibly quiet, almost inaudible as he dips low enough that he is speaking into the shell of your ear. 
A cold chill runs up the length of your spine.
“Thank you, Shadowsinger,” You say simply, a feral smile on your lips as you bare your teeth to him. 
A laugh sharp and cruel rings through you and Azriel’s hand tangles in the lengths of your hair tugging sharply. 
“You are most welcome,” Azriel agrees, his voice is like shadow and wind as it graces your ears “most welcome indeed.”
Azriel steps back into line as Rhysand stands to address the crowd. 
Your own spine straightens as though it is muscle memory by now. Obedience. To bend and break as the High Lord and Lady saw fit. 
Rhysand looks like Night Triumphant as he regards his uncle with a strange union of cruelty and cordiality. Recently Rhys and Feyre had softened slightly with the people of Hewn City. Keir in particular. They can’t afford to isolate him from court politics-- in case the need arises for his Darkbringers to fight again. Hence the fact Rhysand even abides his presence at all. Rhysand’s cruel gaze lingers just a touch too long though. A careful reminder of the fate he’ll earn if he ever decided to go against Rhys. 
It’s been months since you’ve been to Hewn City, longer since you involved yourself in court politics. Longer still, since any whispers of the Trove or Briallyn reached you. Though you aren’t naive enough to believe it is over. 
None of the Inner Circle are. 
That is why you find yourself in Hewn City tonight. Swathed in the sallow light, and painted like a pretty whore; all red lips and dark eyes, with trembling hands, wanting nothing more than to be back in that little cabin with your sisters by your side-- as you were when you were girls. 
Feyre rises to her feet to join Rhys and she addresses the crowd, “May the blessings of the Winter Solstice be upon you.” 
The crowd seems to hum in acknowledgement and then they bow in a show of deference. 
Or blind obedience. 
Your eyes meet the strange amber gaze of Eris Vanserra once more, and it is you he looks at when he kneels. 
Keir slinks forward, offering your sister a low bow, “Allow me to extend my congratulations, High Lady.” His voice drips with false flattery as he dips his chin in a show of esteem. 
Eris Vanserra moves like a predator as he stalks forward, offering your sister a devastating, cultivated smile that feels almost authentic. “And allow me to extend my sincerest wishes, on behalf of my father and the entire Autumn Court.”
Rhysand’s mouth curls into a wicked half smile, his eyes darken to an amethyst color as she speaks “I’m sure your father will be most pleased for us.”
The implication that hands in the air is a dangerous one and you can feel the color drain from you at the terse exchange. A few more beast of silence and--
“Music,” The High Lord calls out and the orchestra from behind the mezzanine begins to play lightly, the sounds of lyres and harps ring through the air. 
Feyre once again addresses the crown, every inch the High Lady, “Go--eat--enjoy.” The crowd of silent courtiers disperse throughout the room as they aim to take their places at the tables. 
Each banquet table is piled high with an obscene amount of food and you find yourself feeling ashamed of the blatant opulence before you. When once you had nothing. Now you live without wanting. It makes you feel ashamed. How your old self would resent this wasteful indulgence. 
Turning away from the feasting courtiers you turn inwards towards the thrones on the dias. 
Now only Eris and Keir remain standing before the High Lord and Lady. You notice how neither of the men has deigned to acknowledge Morrigan’s presence behind the thrones. She looks ethereal and savage as she smirks down at them, her lips look as though they are stained wine red. 
Blood red, you think. 
The Illyrain’s at either side of you and your sisters look more like beasts carved into the dark stone of the mountain than anything else. Azriel and Cassian are clad in black armor, each adorned in ruby and sapphire to match their siphons that glow faintly in the low light. The brothers look as though they are the visage of some Gods of old; statuesque and hard-faced as they regard the Autumn Prince.
Cassian in particular looks like he might invoke some of that ancient power to stop Eris from dancing with Nesta tonight. He had not objected but, how could he? Rhys was his brother and his High Lord. Obedience is easier than the alternative. 
And the fate of The Night Court-- his home-- could rest on Eris’ alliance. So he will bite his tongue in the knowledge that what Eris offers is a chance at defeating Briallyn and Koschei. 
From your spot you watch the Autumn Prince with piqued curiosity. He will not stop looking at you and it is infuriating. 
It brings a cold anger bubbling to the skin's surface; all biting fury and icy violence. 
The conversation between Keir and Rhys seems to come to a natural end and the lull in the conversation has the whole room falling into silence, waiting for their next order. Like puppets.
And your sister the puppet master, pulling the strings as she commands, her voice like thunder at midnight, “Dance--”.
The courtiers like a midnight sea part and pair off in swathes of dark silk and velvet. Even Keir retreats into the crowd and pairs off with a dark haired female. 
Eris turns on his heels, the wrap of his riding boots against the floor echo through your head. 
“Before you join in the merriment, Eris,” Rhy’s voice is a velvet drawl as he presents a long black box, “I’d like to present you with your Solstice gift.”
You swallow hard and step forward. Procuring the box from Rhysand you press forward, one long stride that brings you face to face with the Autumn Prince and for the first time you truly look at him. 
A night-kissed wind envelops the pair of you, enough to wrap behind Eris blocking the dias from view of the dancing courtiers. 
Eris Vanserra is devastating; he has a cruel sort of beauty, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones that look sharp enough to cut into you, but his eyes are soft and unwavering. He is a strange juxtaposition.
Eris arches a brow at Rhysand and you flip open the carved lid of the box. Eris stiffens, his voice low and dangerous. 
“What is this?” he asks, somewhere between disbelief and wariness. 
“A present,” Rhysand clarifies and you catch a glimpse of ruby and gold on the hilt of the dagger. 
You refrain from grimacing at the truth you are confronted with. Rhysand and your sister want to sell off Nesta like a broodmare and her Made weapons with her. 
A truly beautiful piece. And dangerous too. 
Like Eris, something in you calls.
Eris’ hand hovers over the open box and he sucks in a sharp breath.
“You sense its power, then?” Feyre asks voice dripping with a sense of smugness that does not suit her in the slightest. 
Eris nods carefully, his eyes flicking to the High Lord and Lady before finding yours again. 
“There’s flame in it,” he says, hand still hovering over the weapon. As if something in him senses its true power. He closes the lid abruptly. “Why give it to me?”
Feyre smiles lightly and shrugs, “You’re our ally.”
Feyre rests a protective hand over the swell of her stomach, “You face enemies that exist outside of the usual rules of magic. It’s only fair to grant you a weapon that operates outside of those rules too.”
You stand transfixed by the twitch of his jaw and the bob of his throat as he considers her words. 
“It is truly made then?” He asks, carefully. His eyes never leave yours and it is your voice that answers his question. 
“It is, My Lord.” your voice comes out all cold and gravelly, unlike yourself. 
Rhysand speaks again though the beating of your heart renders him almost mute, “From my personal collection. An heirloom of sorts.” 
“All this time,” Eris’ voice is dark and thoughtful, “ all these years you possessed a Made weapon and you kept it hidden.”
“Even during the war,” Eris says more to himself than anyone else. 
There is a dangerous sense of anger and skepticism in the air as Eris examines the weapon again, his hand once more runs over the length of the dagger, his fingers barely ghosting the cool metal. 
“Don’t take our generosity for granted,” Feyre offers in warning, her voice quiet and threatening. 
Eris stills and nods in acknowledgement. He extends a smile that looks courteous enough to be genuine and once more allows his finger to run over the smooth length of the blade. “Thank you,” 
“Might I leave it in your safekeeping while I dance, My Lady?” Eris’s voice seems distant and far away and it takes a moment for you to realize that he is speaking directly to you. 
You look at him coldly, unable to muster the warmth of genuine affection when he is looking at you like that. It is infuriating. That someone so cruel might also be so insufferably handsome. 
“Yes, My Lord.”
Feyre nods to Rhys and Eris in acknowledgement and against your better judgment you let your eyes linger over the graceful curve of his calves and up over the contours of his muscled thighs, all the way up over the broad expanse of his chest and finally becoming entangled in the unbound curls of copper hair as he sweeps it over his shoulder. 
Devilishly and devastatingly handsome. Sun-blood handsome. 
Feyre’s soft lilt brings you back to reality as she says “Use it well, Lord.” 
Your sister's smile curves into a soft smile at Eris and extends a hand to him, “Ordinarily I would ask you to dance, but my condition has left me quite unwell.” Feyre makes a show of looking between the two sisters who stand in line with Cassian and Azriel. 
Elain, at least, has the good grace to give the impression of seeming interested. Nesta though looks bored. As though she is only half listening. As though they hadn’t just given away the dagger she’d Made. 
Perhaps it was the way that Nesta’s grey eyes had drifted away from the dancing sea of courtiers, or the forlorn look on Cassian’s face as he stood on the dias, but either way it made you realize something. That maybe the Illyrian General meant more to Nesta than she would ever let on. More than that dagger-- more than magic or power or court politics.  
Feyre notes the direction of Nesta’s stare and then looks between you and Eris. The corners of her lips twitch in nervous anticipation as her eyes settle on you. 
“My lovely sister shall take my place.” Feyre nods to you and for a moment you let the icy wrath in your stare settle over her before dipping your head to her. 
Eris’ throat bobs as you assess him with that same cold gaze. A slender hand takes the Made dagger from you and you hold out a hand to him. 
He extends a sculpted arm out to you, his large hand wrapping around you as you yield to him. His long, deft fingers brush against yours; his skin is warm to the touch and even in the pallid light it is clear and pale, with golden hues that compliment the warm depths of his eyes. Your chest grows taut and you feel emotion course through you with the force of a raging tempest. 
You loose a breathy gasp and for a moment you exist somewhere outside of yourself. You hear Eris’ voice, a warm, low timbre as he utters your name. He offers you his arm as you descend from your spot on the onyx dias. The sound of your slippers echo in the silent chamber. Eris’s face is set in a painfully neutral expression and you try your hardest to mirror it. Hoping he will not see the storm raging inside of you. You think of Nesta and the way she moves with such thoughtful grace and so you copy it; your chin tilted high and each step becomes a glide as you reach the edge of the marble dance floor. 
The eyes of the courtiers fall onto you. 
You feel the heat of Eris stare as it burns into the side of your face-- you feel a pair of violet eyes on you too. A cold chill spreads through you when his talons scrape dangerously and then you see him in your mind's eye. What a dangerous turn of events. 
Dangerous? You had never considered yourself as something dangerous. 
Nesta might have seduced Eris, but you will bring him to his knees. Rhysand’s cold tenor rattles around your mind and for a moment you see him standing at the precipice of a cliff as the storm rolls in, and the jagged rocks below look like the opening of a Helmouth. 
There is no doubt that Nesta is more beautiful. With a feline sort of beauty; long legs and a graceful neck, all angular and steely eyed. Nesta had inherited the aristocratic sort of beauty that your mother possessed. You had always been half-wild, unapproachable and--
Well, it is your mother’s voice that resounds in your head, of two sisters one is always the dancer and one the watcher. 
Tonight the roles reverse as you take your place in the middle of the dance floor. You will bring him to his knees. 
You catch Azriel’s eye as the instrumental music fades into momentary silence. From his spot on the dias he looks like a dark God; and he looks like he might just tear Eris to blood ribbons when his hand wraps around your waist. 
Eris brings you so close to him that you're pressed against him and as the harp begins to play, high and sweet, he smiles softly at you. As if the notes of music wrap around you, you raise your palm to his flat and open, an invitation if he has even seen one. 
The low stringed instruments usher in the music like a coming storm, a summons to the dance in a rushing of music, like water. You remind yourself to smile wickedly at Eris as he slides a broad hand over the curves and divots of your waist and hips. You lift your head high and, looking up into his perfect face you bare your teeth to him. All ruby red lips and pearls and he smiles so wickedly that you’re not sure who is supposed to be seducing who. 
Those strange amber eyes-- so haunting in the faelight. 
The harps and lyres sing so beautifully in the air and when the violins begin to play, it feels like a siren song in the air. A beckoning. As your body moves with the ebb and flow of the dancing tide. 
Eris leads you into the waltz, he moves with practiced ease. He knows every note, every trough and swell of the music, each nuance and note. 
Nesta would outdance you everytime. This you know. She moves like the music becomes her. And in so many ways it does. Her body bends to the will of the orchestral sound, and it bends to her too. 
So you will have to play it differently. 
The music sweeps you up in it’s tide, and as the music swells you decide to surrender yourself to the water. Let it wash all over you. Your body, once rigid and taut, goes pliant in Eris’ arms. You let the orchestral sound drown out your doubts and give yourself over to it. To him. His fingers ghost the line of your spine and he pushes you further still, against him. So close that you feel your heartbeat in tandem and your body bends to his will. 
It is easier to bend than to break. 
Better to relinquish control than have it taken from you. 
Eris’ eyes widen and soften then-- as if he feels it too-- you feel his hands loosen before tightening again around you. Somehow different now. Somehow, strangely, comforting. 
He moves with such grace and skill, his body reacts to every fluttering note and pause in the music. And the whole time his eyes are on you. And you can’t look away. The dark, warm depths of his eyes like a slow-burning fire that consumes all in its wake. 
You find the faces of your family in the crowd and you see that their normally composed demeanor seems to have shifted, their eyes wide and jaws slack as you move with the tide. 
Tonight you are the storm and the fire will bend to you. 
You will bring him to his knees, you think. As the music washes over you. 
Has there ever been such a haunting and mournful sound in all the world? Your name falling from Eris’mouth perhaps.
The snippets of the music Nesta had described to you, from her memory of the Veritas, paled in comparison. It flows and swims around you, filling you like water, and if you let it, it could be enough to drown you. To sink into the depths of the high-arching song. 
Eris smiles again when you fall into step with him so effortlessly, like you are an extension of him. 
One soul in two bodies.
His broad hand tightens over the flare of your hip, his fingers flexing before digging into the malleable flesh. The smile you give him feels much too vulnerable and genuine to bring you any sort of comfort. 
Eris' amber eyes shine with feral delight and you see yourself reflected in his eyes; you look like sin personified. The dark material of your dress gathers about your waist, held in place only by velvet ribbon and a few embroidered onyx crystals. The deep cut of the dress is so low that it bares the ample curve of your breasts and your strain to catch your breath because of how tight the dress has been laced. 
The person you see in Eris’eyes looks like the incarnation of some ancient deity; dark and cold, and cruel. And beautiful. 
Eris’ broad hand spreads across the middle of your back, pressed firm between your shoulder blades and you burn beneath him. As the music lulls and flutters his gaze locks onto yours and flame simmers in those dark topaz eyes and a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. Cat-like and feral as he dips you low, supporting your weight in his arms. His face comes to hover over yours and you’re transfixed by his unyielding stare. 
Beautiful and haunting eyes.
One hand is wrapped around his neck and the other you bring to touch his cheek with the tenderness of someone who has never truly been touched. His face falters and something akin to raw vulnerability flashes in his eyes. 
Bring him to his knees.
In one swift movement Eris sweeps you so that you are standing upright, pressed so close to his chest that you feel each groove and divot of his sculpted chest. You place that same hand over his blazing heart and as the music filters into stunned silence, Eris eyes you with feral delight. 
For a moment, as the heaving in your chest subsides you allow yourself to remain in his tender grasp. His fingers ghosting the curve of you hip and the small of your back, rubbing slow, deliberate circles into the skin there. 
The faces of the courtiers turn upon you. 
You, this once-human female, barely out of girlhood, who had been thrust into this world of dark power and politics. 
Who stood before them now, coloured in the murky green hues of Hewn City. 
Storm-streaked girl. 
It is like being born again and the mountain trembles in your wake. 
The eyes of your High Lord and Lady land on you and Eris at the foot of the dias. Rhysand rises in his seat and his violet eyes meet yours and something wicked and enchanting flashes in them. Feyre regards you with a wild smile and she laughs before tipping her head to you in acknowledgement. 
And in a show of secret defiance you plunge into the deepest curtsey you can manage; your chest still rising and falling with a dramatic flare, and your skirts pool around you like inky shadows as you sink low onto the marble. You dip your chin ever so slightly, never quite breaking eye contact with the cruel violet gaze that assesses you with a dangerous glint. 
A laugh of dark joy bursts from Eris beside you who in turn, offers his own small bow before capturing you again in his firm hold as the orchestra begins to play again. 
Your mother had always wanted a Prince for Nesta, and yet, here you were-- beautiful, cruel and merciless, with the Autumn Prince sinking into the cold depths of your eyes. 
Everyone who has ever loved you has underestimated you. But looking into Eris’ eyes you see something kindred to you. 
You will bring them all to their knees. 
Eris' amber eyes gleam with want as he takes you in again and you loose a shaky breath as he leads you into the next dance. 
The music is soft and light, the strings sing a song so aching and mournful that you feel once again overcome with it. All of your violent coldness, all that biting fury, rendered a useless ruse as the music becomes you. 
Eris might be the monster they all say he is, but looking at him now, in the soft light, you see something else. 
“Trust Rhysand to keep such a beautiful creature to himself.” Eris’ amber eyes study you carefully. 
You school your face to remain neutral, with just a touch of scorn as you bite back. 
“If beauty is all you can see, My Lord” You say, your voice dark and taunting, “I fear you have missed the point entirely.” 
“Intelligent too,” Eris chuckles darkly and wraps a wisp of your unbound hair around his forefinger, “and dangerous.”
You don’t deign to reply though Eris continues his assessment of you, his eyes trailing over you, afire with dark promise. 
“I’ve seen you before though,” Eris asks as he steps into the next part of the song, “haven’t I?”
His eyes narrow on you and you think back to the last time you saw Eris Vanserra. 
“At the High Lords meeting,” You say quietly, your voice thick with shame as you recall the meeting some months back. 
You had been little more than a wraith then, when the dreams of drowning in that cauldron plagued you nightly, a girl gulping on a woman’s grief. Now those dreams only come with the coming of a storm. A warning or some ill-fated omen.
“The time since the way has changed you.” It is not a question but a statement. 
You don’t smile at him like you should. Instead you meet Eris’ burning stare with a measured look of your own, “For the better, I hope?”
Eris thinks for a moment, as if looking for the right words to express his meaning. 
“You are a Goddess.” he says slyly gesturing to the dress as the skirts brush against him, baring the slit in the thigh to him. 
“Then kneel to me.” You say, not missing a beat as Eris laughs wickedly and brings his mouth to hover over the shell of your ear. 
“It seems you came to play the game tonight, afterall.” Eris says, his voice a low murmur in your ear. 
He spins you again, quick and violent before you crash back into him again, “don’t believe the lies they tell you about me.” 
“But I should believe you?” You ask, arching a brow to the cruel prince. 
“You shouldn’t believe anyone here, Little fox.” Eris tips his head towards the dias where Mor watches the pair of you from her spot besides the High Lord and Lady. 
“The Morrigan knows the truth,” Eris insists, “though she has never revealed it.” 
“Why?” You ask curiously. 
“Because she is afraid of it.” Eris’ voice is tempered and quiet and he casts the Inner Circle a look of his own, “they all are.” 
Your mouth twitches with the ghost of a smirk as you press yourself further into him, “You don’t do yourself any favors with this mask you wear.”
“Don’t I? I’ve managed to ally myself to this court, under constant threat of being discovered by my father-- do you have any idea what he’d do to me if he found out, Little fox?” Eris asks, the fire within him lighting and flickering in his amber eyes. “I ally myself with this court, I offer aid when I can, I placate Rhysand with ceremonies and shows of deference. Why do you think that is?”
Eris dips you again and the fan on his unbound hair brushes against your bare shoulders. 
“Because there’s something in it for you.” It isn’t a matter of question. You know it to be true and you see it in the way that Eris regards you with a mixture of fondness and caution. 
“Because there is something in it for me,” Eris confirms, “and tell me, what is in it for me?”
“What is it that you want, My Lord?” You ask, fluttering dark lashes at him and the music swells. 
“What is Rhysand offering?” Eris counters and leads you further into the center of the floor. 
“Nothing that I have the power to grant you.”
Eris laughs, the sound like silk on your skin and you shiver as he brings his lips to graze your ear, “I very much doubt that, Little fox?”
You swallow thickly and a surge of dark power pricks at your skin. You let him see it; all that cold rage, and the violence of the sea. 
Eris' face twists but not from fear and a strange look of reverence shines in his eyes. 
The waltz comes to a close and as the music fades into the chatter of the courtiers he whispers into your ear once more. 
“They say your sister Elain is the beauty, but you are something else entirely.” His breath is hot and sacred on your neck, and a broad hand strokes the bare skin of your back and you find yourself arching into him. 
Eris takes a step back from you, holding your hand above your head and turning you slowly as his eyes roam the curves and contours of your body, “You are wasted in the Night Court,” 
“Truly wasted.” His voice is a low whistle as you stop in front of him now. 
“And where might I be used more effectively, My Lord?” 
Eris chuckles again but before he can answer--
“Get your hands off her, Eris.” Azriel’s voice is like cold death that cuts through the spell that Eris has you under. His wrath comes off him in waves that crash against you, halting your movements. 
The dancing sea around you seems to cease to move as Eris and Azriel lock eyes. 
Eris straightens his back and he closes his hand over yours-- gently, almost protectively-- and he locks his eyes onto Azriel. 
Hazel and amber meet and shadow and light seem to dance in the air. The courtiers wait with baited breath. 
“I don’t take orders from the likes of you, Shadowsinger.” 
You stifle a snarl as you look at Azriel. Who does he think he is? He has no claim over you. He had made that much clear when you started this thing. A means to an end. A placeholder for another sister. 
“Am I to understand that you’d like to dance, Azriel?” You ask cooly, trying not to let your violet rage show in the darkness of your eyes. 
“Yes.” His voice is insistent and thick with jealousy and the promise of violence. 
Before you can pull yourself from Eris’ protective grip, Azriel is tugging on your wrist and bringing you into his side. 
Eris bares his teeth to Azriel and fire dances in those strange amber eyes. “Go sit at your master’s feet, dog.” 
Azriel laughs darkly and his shadows become a violent wisp of dark that wraps itself around you in a possessive manner. 
You swallow down the shame that you feel when Eris looks at you -- like all the power you had just moments ago has been ripped away from you, and now you are just another piece on the board to be bought and sold as your High Lord saw fit. 
A pretty whore, painted like some dark Goddess.
You band an arm across Azriel’s chest as he lunges forward in a flurry of movement. 
“It’s alright,” you offer Eris an apologetic smile, “I’ve taken too much of your time already.” You say diplomatically, taking Azriel’s hand in your own and pulling away from Eris.
Feyre and Rhysand had given up one of Nesta’s Made daggers in the name of Eris’ continued alliance, surely, one interrupted dance will not jeopardize it. 
Eris offers you a taut smile and he bows his head to you, “Very well then, we’ll play later, Little Fox.” 
Eris doesn’t so much as acknowledge Azriel as he ventures towards the dias again. 
Azriel holds you in place, one hand wrapped around your shoulders and he searches you as if looking for signs of injury. His touch is cold and biting. 
“Happy now?” you roll your eyes at him. 
Azriel stares coldly at you, his face set like stone, as if carved into the dark stone of the mountain, “not in the slightest.” 
You glance hesitantly over his shoulder and see Rhysand and Feyre each sharing a look of subtle fury. Azriel will no doubt be on the receiving end of a mental lashing. If Azriel has cost them this alliance it comes down on you too-
“He touched you and I-,” Azriel’s voice is weighted and serious at the same time you speak out. 
“Whatever has passed between us,” you say gesturing between you and him, “it has to end, Azriel.”
If Azriel felt anything at all but cold indifference his face does not show it. 
“Because of Eris?” Azriel asks incredulously, his tone full of venom.
“No, of course not,” You say truthfully, “because we are fools to think this will ever be enough.” 
A beat of silence lingers in the air between you.
“For either of us.” 
Azriel takes a moment to think about it and you see the recognition flash in his darkening hazel eyes, he looks over his shoulder in Elain’s direction. Carefully, measured, he looks at you again. 
“You want Elain.” You say matter of factly, even with a hint of sadness, “don’t deny it-- and I…” your voice trails into nothing. An errant whisper of power. 
“And what do you want?” Azriel asks, his voice once dark and cruel is something akin to familial. 
“I’m not sure yet.” you say thoughtfully, looking back to the dias where everyone regards you and Azriel warily. 
Azriel softens and he lets go of your arms and hides his scarred fingertips in the pockets of his dark colored tunic. He runs a hand over his face in regret and looses a shaky breath before laughing again. 
“Rhys is going to fucking slaughter me.” Azriel says and you laugh quietly, muttering in agreement as you link arms with his and lead him through the dancing sea of courtiers to the wine table. 
Azriel takes a goblet in each hand and offers one to you. The wine is dark and red and stains your lips like blood. The taste is woody and spiced, it tastes a little like Autumn. Azriel leans into the onyx pillar and angles himself away from the prying eyes of the courtiers as they dance. 
You’re at his side and move so that his body obstructs the view of Rhysand and Feyre, shunning their ire. 
“How pissed do you think they’ll be?” You ask grimly. 
“With you?” Azriel asks, cocking a brow in confusion. You only nod and wait for him to continue. Azriel swallows a large mouthful of wine, wiping his mouth with the back of a scarred hand “not at all, you did them a favor-- practically had Eris on his knees.” 
“Good.” You meet his eyes and for the first time tonight you feel as though you might just have something to offer. 
“Be careful with Eris,” Azriel says gently, his hand on your arm, “not everything he says is to be trusted.” 
“But I can trust you?” You ask, thinking back to what Eris had said earlier in the evening.
“Always.” Azriel says.
The orchestral music comes to a dramatic close and you see Nesta and Cassian dancing happily in the crowds. Elain remains on the dias and you catch her eyes as she watches you and Azriel with careful, wide eyes. 
“Come on, Shadowsinger,” You say defiantly, pushing yourself from the onyx pillar, “time to face the High Lord.” 
Azreil huffs indignantly and pushes away from the pillar, abandoning his goblet and stalking his way to Elain’s side on the dias. She smiles softly at him and you see some of the tension in Azriel’s shoulders dissolve into nothing but a contented ease. 
You approach the dias with a quiet reproach and as you meet Feyre’s eyes she croons at you, her smile is once of a brilliant radiant light that spills from her. A stark contrast to the cold darkness that you carry so well. 
Eris' voice is dark and serious as you approach The High Lord, his jaw tightens when Rhysand regards him with a cool violet gaze. 
“I have my reasons.” 
You’re not entirely sure what they’re talking about and when you take your place next to Feyre she places a hand on your arm in comfort. Though it does nothing to settle the acid churning in your stomach nor the storm that is raging inside of you. 
“Care to share those reasons with us?” Rhysand asks, picking at an errant thread on his beautiful dark tunic. 
For a moment his eyes glaze over, muted violet as he speaks mind to mind with the Autumn Prince.
Rhysand’s lips twitch lightly and you can see that whatever words passed between him and Eris has pleased him greatly-- at least given him the upper hand so that he doesn’t feel threatened but Eris’ commanding presence. 
Eris steps forwards again and adds, “Bestides, it is a bonus of course, that in doing so, I would be getting what has been owed to me even since my betrothal to Morrigan.” 
Rhysand studies Eris and then casts a fleeting glance along the line to you, standing dutifully at Feyre’s side. 
Like the docile, and obedient sister he wants you to be. 
A conduit of his dark power. A piece to be played in this game of power and politics. 
“Anything I want-- anything at all, whether it be armies from the Autumn Court or your firstborn, you would grant me it all in exchange for the Archeron girl as your wife?”
Azriel, still somewhat territorial, lets loose a low growl that rumbles like thunder through the air. 
Eris doesn’t deign to even look in his direction-- instead those haunting amber eyes linger on you. His eyes are soft and dark, burning into yours, and you find yourself caught in the unyielding, all consuming fire that is Eris Vanserra. 
Eris turns back to Rhysand. “Not as far as my heir, but yes, Rhysand. You want armies against the human queen? You’ll have them, and anything else you might ask of me.” 
“Just for her?” Azriel’s voice is cutting and suspicious as he hones in on Eris Vanserra. 
“The girl, and, when the time comes, you’ll aid me in seizing the Autumn Throne from my father.” Eris adds, his eyes shine with that slow-burning fire, “and then you’ll have all the armies you desire.”
Rhysand and Feyre share a look of pure delight, irreverent to anyone else but you see it for what it is. Feral delight at their victory. 
“I couldn’t very well let my wife’s sister go into battle unaided, could I?” 
I said bring him to his knees, darling. What dark magic is this? What have you done to him? Rhysand’s voice is like night-kissed air in your mind. 
Feyre’s laugh rings through you like birdsong and you can’t help the satisfied smirk that curls onto your lips.
You’re about to speak when you catch Eris’ eyes; those strange amber eyes. And then you feel it. 
A bond that grows taut and reverberates through the hall, like a ripple of power and a golden thread bridges the distance between your body and his. 
“Mate?” Eris’ voice strains with the weight of it, and you feel like light goes all through you, as though you are little more than a shadow or a memory as you allow yourself to sink into the dark waters that live within your mind's eye. “My mate.”
Your name breaks apart in his mouth and in a flash of violet and murky blue you’re greeted by the storm as it breaks over Velaris. On the horizon, dark and ominous as it approaches. You reach the balcony and wade out into the violent night, waiting for the storm to stake its claim to you. 
You were born on a night like this, you tell yourself. Like the Gods of old; born from the storms and the seas, to withstand the hardships of this world. To be cruel and merciless and beautiful. 
You whisper it, until you feel that bond in your chest grow taut, strained with the distance between you. And as Eris’ emotions run like water into you, for the first time in a long time you allow yourself to feel. 
To yield to the storm as it breaks against you with all the force of a great tempest.
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Oh my god this was WAY longer than anticipated and I wasn't planning on making it like spicy, but it's been a while so I threw some at the very end ;) this is Eris x Cafe Owner ! Reader / trope, it was very cute so I hope I captured the idea well enough for the anon who requested it!
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings: Cursing, Smut
Eris wouldn’t say he frequented the small towns scattered throughout the Autumn Courts, nothing more than a yearly visit or two, normally just for an inspection called upon by his father. He usually came on horseback, flanked by his soldiers in their shining armor, and strolled through the town for a quick survey. He nodded politely, quick to make his way through the town without disturbing any of the residents. No matter how nice he was, how civil and respectful he was, they still cowered from him - hid in their homes and shut their shop doors when he passed through.
But there was one town, nestled just past the forest in the valley of the mountains right before the Winter Court, that Eris took his time visiting. That’s exactly what it was, in fact: a visit, not an inspection - no surveillance, no prying. He traveled there alone, winnowing to the outskirts of the village, taking his time walking down the main street. Stores and homes littered the dirt road, nearly frozen solid from the Winter wind that blew across the border; he walked along the stone sidewalk, past the brick houses and the shops built up from the redwood trees. 
At the center of the town stood the bakery, a hand painted sign that spelled it out in fine script. The chalkboard was propped open on the walkway, the specials written in swirly cursive. Eris bit the inside of his cheek to hide the smile that crawled up his lips, eyeing the Topfenstrudel you’d written no doubt early this morning - probably before he’d even woken up. You’d listed a few teas below it, fruit sauces, and spices to pair it with. 
Eris wouldn’t admit to it, but he’d patroned it more than the other little towns. It started once a year, just like everywhere else, but turned quarterly - monthly, even - after he visited your bakery. Small and tucked away, next to a butcher’s shop on one side and a bookstore on the other, your cafe was lined with tables and plush chairs, golden faelights and fresh flowers strewn across the space. 
He slipped through the door quickly, trying not to let out the heat from the small fire in the hearth beside the counter. “Good morning,” you called from the back kitchen, not visible from the doorway. “I’ll be with you in a minute!” Eris hummed in response, throwing a tiny ring of fire at the dimming flame. He noted the heat immediately, a welcome shiver down his spine at the feeling. He shook off the cold, shoving his hands in his pockets and pacing a few steps around the cafe. 
He had half a mind to bring you flowers this time - though, he’d been telling himself that the past three visits. His mother had clipped some hydrangeas from her garden, had them laid out along the long table in her drawing room. He should have just swiped a few, winnowed out before she would even notice, but he thought against it, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or think he was trying something. 
Not that he wasn’t, necessarily - he should - gods, he wanted to. But the only thing you knew about him was that he was the High Lord’s son, he didn’t want to accept your advances because you felt like you had to. 
You popped around the corner, stopping in front of the counter wiping your hands on your apron. Your mouth opened and shut quickly, eyes wide at the sight of him. But he didn’t miss the blush that crawled up your cheeks, the small flustered smile when his fiery gaze met yours. “Oh - I didn’t - sorry to keep you waiting,” you said, shaking your head slightly. 
Eris smiled and relaxed his shoulders. “I wasn’t, don’t worry.” He’d counted down each minute - all forty-four thousand of them - until he saw you again. 
“You’re early,” you replied, pressing your hands against the counter, shuffling the random pile of papers before you.
He shrugged, eyes falling to the counter, watching how you moved the papers, each scrawled with a different recipe or note, and pushed them to the side. “Long day ahead - I wanted to make sure I got the strudel before you ran out.” 
The High Lord’s son typically came closer to closing, when just a few customers lingered around. Some ducked out quickly, afraid of the tall male’s presence; others stayed, tucked away in the dimly lit corners of the cafe, watching the handsome male from just over the rim of their coffee up. He usually ordered a tea - something chamomile or tisane - along with a pastry or two, and always tried the daily special. 
But you opened at six in the morning, and Eris strolled in just three minutes past. 
“Then what else can I get for you, Eris?” He almost melted on the spot - his name dripped like honey off your lips. You’d exchanged names and gotten past formalities a few months ago, when you’d started greeting him more like a friend than the High Lord’s son. 
He figured he’d never get anywhere with you if he kept lingering around the bakery before closing, when your neighbors sat watching his every move. 
“I’ll have a coffee, please.” You quirked a brow at the male, surprised at the change in order, though you supposed it was too early for a sleepy tea. 
You watched him ruffle around in his pocket for some change, the heavy gold coins shaking in his hand. He dipped his head to count the money, you watched the red locks of hair fall over his brow. You tipped your head back to look up at him, watch the fire’s shadows dance over his carved cheekbones, kissing his straight nose. 
You were able to see him clearly in the morning light; you could count the freckles across his cheeks, and oh how you longed to. He looked so different at night, when the sun was gone and the only light came from the red fire and amber faelights, as well as his glowing eyes. “And how do you take your coffee?” You watched his throat work, his eyes roam over your features. 
Eris pressed his tongue behind his teeth. “How you take yours.” 
“Milk and sugar?” You hummed, raising your brow, smiling at the male. While he savored the sweets you served him, you would have assumed he went for the more bitter taste. 
To be fair, he did. He just wanted to know how you liked yours, should he ever have the chance to make it for you himself. 
Preferentially in his bed. 
And nude. 
“Milk and sugar,” he replied with a small nod but a broad smile. 
Your eyes flitted between him and the mess on the counter in front of you - yet his red eyes never left yours, his gaze burning into you. You couldn’t help but blush, the heat emitted from his body calling to you, for you to throw yourself into him and feel his arms around you. The chill from the Winter Court was strong that morning, you’d wanted nothing more than to linger around the warm ovens all morning. But the cafe felt warmer, like it always did when he visited; you weren’t sure if it was his fire powers or just him. 
How much you wanted to touch him. 
“Coming right up.” You offered him a smile before trotting off to the kitchen, setting the grounds up over the set of mugs. “Make yourself comfortable.”
Your voice carried quietly from the back kitchen, just audible above the cracking fire. Eris’s eyes swiped around the cafe, over the small tables and iron chairs, never having seen the shop empty before. But he took a seat against the window, the seats shrouded with pillows with stacks of books adorning the tabletop. Your scent lingered across the space, bright and fruity with a hint of cinnamon. 
He tried not to stare at the counter across the shop, watch and wait for you to appear in the doorway to return. Eris tried to busy himself, glancing at each of the plants hanging from baskets, the flowers that he tried to remember, the sound of his mother reciting each name in the back of his mind. 
You piled the mugs and plates on a small wooden tray and made your way back to the tiny dining area, weaving through the tables to meet him in the corner. His thick brows raised in surprise as he noticed the amount of goodies on the tray, scrambling to stand and take it from you. But you shooed him off, setting everything down between you and ushering him to sit when you took the seat across from him. 
You never thought you’d meet a member of Autumn royalty, let alone one that fretted over you carrying a small try and who stood whenever you entered the room. 
“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said, quietly, almost unsure of how the word was supposed to sound - like it was foreign. But your pointed ears flexed, unable to miss the small sentiment, no matter how unusual it tasted on his tongue, he was trying. 
“You’re welcome, Eris,” you replied simply, handing him a mug, taking the matching one for yourself. There were a couple strudels on a plate, paired with a bowl of fruit, and some macaroons, a couple pumpkin tarts fresh from the oven on the side. 
He noticed how you pulled your strudel in half, how your shoulders shrugged slightly when you tasted it, the warm dough relaxing the cold chill that stiffened your spine. You couldn’t help but watch his hands work before you, pulling apart his pastry, just as you did, how he picked up the coffee cup loosely in those long fingers, pale knuckles and veins lining his big hands. You cradled your own mug in both hands, half needing the warmth from the side of the cup, the other half needing the grasp on reality, keeping you grounded - keeping your mind from wandering too far. 
His gaze washed over you, watching as you zoned out, staring into the space between you. “Were you here early this morning?” 
You blinked once, twice, trying to pull your eyes away from the male’s hands. “Yeah.” You huffed a laugh, sipping from the much needed coffee. “I start baking at four - got here at three though.” You eyed the pastry he’d picked up. “These were a bit more difficult than what I usually try for.”
“It’s excellent,” he said, taking a bite of the flaky pastry. “Very much worth the extra time, in my opinion.”
“I’m glad you came today.” Eris’s red eyes sparkled at your words, he felt the fire roar through his veins and crawl up his cheeks. 
Me too. He ached; wanted to find out everything about you, about your life, what you liked and what you didn’t, your family, what made you tick, what made you smile, how you tasted, how you’d look in his bed, on his lap. 
But before the male could even think of a response, the door swung open, followed by a gust of wind. Your eyes shot to the door immediately, assessing who came in, interrupting (what Eris believed to be, at least) a pleasant conversation. 
“Good morning, Mrs. Aldrich,” you greeted the old female, bundled up in her coat and wrapped in what looked like two scarves. Your eyes dropped to Eris once more as you pushed yourself from the table, sauntering off to the counter to serve her. 
But Eris decided to only wait a few moments longer, downing the rest of his coffee and finishing the treats on the table before stacking the bowls and plates. He ran his hands over the sides of his corduroy pants, unsure of whether to bring them to you in the kitchen, whether he should even go out of his way to say goodbye. He felt the Fae female staring at him, too afraid to say anything, but watching his every move. So he buttoned his jacket, preparing to leave before anyone else could come to the cafe to study him. 
He turned to the female, offering his a polite bow of his head in greeting, which she returned with a small curtsey. “Bye Eris,” you called, poking your head around the corner from the kitchen, arms working to tie a white apron around your waist. 
His eyes found yours, sparkling in the morning light that shines from the front windows. “Bye (Y/N), thanks again.” He offered you a smile before he ducked out the short front door. 
Eris felt Mrs. Aldrich’s eyes move back and forth between the two of you. 
_________________________
The next time he came by, it was still just as cold and just as early. He tried to take his time walking to the shop, but he couldn’t slow himself down - his hands itched, flexing at his sides, simmering with heat that poured out of him. The pocket watch in the front of his jacket told him he was a few minutes early, so he lingered along the cobblestones, kicking at the loose rocks on the sidewalk. 
The lights in the cafe were on, but the specials sign was missing and the Closed sign hung across the green door. He chewed on his bottom lip, shoving his hands inside his pockets and turning on his heel. He thought maybe he should just leave, not wait around like a creep, and solicit the peaceful town. 
“Eris?” 
The male’s head lifted as he turned over his shoulder, meeting your soft smile. He lifted a hand to run through his messy red hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “Hey (Y/N), good morning,” he stumbled over his words, too focused on his racing heart - beating almost as rapidly as the first day he saw you. 
You held the door open with your foot - the tip of your brown boot covered in flour, as the hem of your skirt was - and moved to pull the chalkboard through the door. The High Lord’s son pulled it from your hands, grabbing it easily with on and moving it as though it weighed nothing. He fixed it up on the sidewalk before turning to you with a smile. “Apricot sachertorte?”
You beamed at him, proud of your newest sweet treat, and propped your hands on your hips. You almost didn’t notice the Winter Court chill seeping through your clothes. You felt the heat he emitted, centuries of fire burning through him, drawing you to him. “You like chocolate, no?”
Eris ushered you inside, noting your missing coat when his eyes drew up and down your body. The dress you wore was thin, tight. Dusted with ingredients and a messy apron. He swallowed, forced some air into his lungs, and forced himself to not stare when you led him inside. “I have a certain weakness when it comes to chocolate.” And you. 
He rolled his eyes inwardly at himself - how his father would have killed him for even making a joke about having a terminal flaw. But he’d developed enough of a friendship that he’d actually made you laugh, and it was a sound he’d say nearly anything to hear it again. 
“Perfect then, take a seat and I’ll get some coffee for us.” Eris sighed in sweet relief, thanking you for saving him from having to ask you to sit with him again. 
You were quick to return with two mugs and two plates, one exceptionally large slice of the torte accompanied by a smaller one. He was quick to help you, settling into the table across from the fireplace. You’d hummed when you sat down, relaxing into the iron chair, and the male couldn’t help but wonder if it was the first time you’d sat down all morning. You drank your coffee like it came from the Mother herself, savoring the rich taste. “This is probably the fourth cup I’ve had this morning.” 
Eris wasn’t surprised. He was in the same boat himself, actually. He hadn’t been able to sleep all last night, not with the anticipation of seeing you. He’d forced his night owl of a brother to spar with him, tire himself out wielding the heavy steel sword. He’d fussed over battle plans and boring court papers. When that didn’t work, he’d even found himself in the kitchen, attempting what was intended to be a galette. When that didn’t work out, he gave up and laid in bed for a few more hours. He was tired, sure, but couldn’t fall asleep. 
“You ought to take a day off, sleep in,” he replied, taking a bite of the layered chocolate cake. Gods, if that was the last meal he’d eat, he’d be beyond satisfied. 
You shrugged, finger tracing the rim of your cup. “I could… but I just love it too much - even if I have to wake up early for it.” Eris nodded along. “Besides, what if you came by the shop and I was closed?”
He shifted in his chair, trying to settle the burn in his chest. “You’re right - ” he tried to play it off casually. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself without your pastries.” Another job well done, he cursed himself. 
You smiled sweetly, propping your elbow up on the table and resting your head against your knuckles. “So tell me, Eris. What’s on today’s agenda? I can hardly believe you came all this way just for coffee and chocolate.” 
Oh how wrong you were. He’d go to the ends of Prythian just to spend one moment with you. 
“Taking care of some errands for my father,” he began, not interested in divulging too much. You understood, and simply nodded along, taking whatever he’d be willing to give out. “I have a meeting in the Winter Court.” 
“Ah, just a stop along the way, then.” He wasn’t sure if he heard faint disappointment laced in your voice, or if it was just what he’d been hoping to hear. 
“Well - yes, but…” It was one of those rare moments where Eris didn’t know what to say. “But I wish I could come more - I don’t want to bother you. I know a lot of your customers are uneasy when I stop by - ”
You cut him off, sitting straight in your chair. “You’re not - I love when you visit, Eris.” You fought against all your instincts to reach across the table and grab his hand. 
It was his turn to blush. Maybe he was overheating, what with all the layers and sitting in front of the fire. Or perhaps it was your bright eyes staring at him, burning into him, starting straight into the depths of his soul. “I wish I could stay longer, I’d like to - ”
But that godsdamned door opened again, a group of Fae walked in, conversation abruptly stopping when they noticed the fiery-haired male sitting at the table across from you. Eris stood in one swift motion, abandoning his fork and empty plate behind him. He noticed the young female that walked in, orange hair wild around her ears, starting straight at you, wiggling her eyebrows. 
When he tossed a look over his shoulder at you, he saw your pink cheeks, chin tucked close to your chest. “Your highness,” one of the males began, bowing to Eris.
His friend smacked him in the chest, grimacing at his friend’s actions. “Shut up.”
Another female interrupted all of them, smiling broadly at Eris. “Good morning, sir,” she said sweetly, dipping slightly in greeting. 
Eris had never felt more awkward in his life. He’d been trained in court politics, to lead armies, to host High Lord meetings on behalf of his father, to speak in front of hundreds of Fae. But never to talk with teenage Fae. 
“Good morning,” he replied as politely as he could, shifting his weight from foot to foot. But he recalled his courtier training, standing tall and holding his chin high. 
He got a small confidence boost though, as the other males tilted their heads back to look up at him, and cowered a few steps backward. And although Eris was normally cocky enough to have loved to inflict that kind of response on others, it wasn’t what he should be displaying in front of a female he was trying to impress. 
“I have to be getting on my way, (Y/N),” he finished, turning back to look at you. “Thanks for the coffee.” He smirked, watching as you glared at your friend - the one whose eyes kept flitting between you and the High Lord’s son. 
Your attention was drawn back to Eris and he threw a wink your way before he left the cafe.  
_________________________
He winnowed back just after the sun had set, when the chill from the mountains was visible in each breath he took. Eris appeared right in front of your shop door, where the lights were dimmed and the sign on the door read Closed. 
Fuck, he’d cursed himself, fifteen minutes late. He’d rushed back as fast as he could, after having spent the day in the Winter Court, useless meetings with Kallias and his staff. Eris had nearly run out of the meeting room, winnowing before he’d even left the table and made it close to the door. 
But you’d spotted him, the brown wool coat and dark red hair from the window. You almost skipped to the door, something between a hop and a half-jog, making your way to the door before he’d off and disappeared again. “Eris, wait!” You’d called, unlocking the door and poking your head through. 
He smiled when he turned around, meeting you in the doorway. You held a broom in your hand, obviously close to leaving for the evening. No matter how tired you were, there was no doubt in his mind that you’d had a busy day, you still greeted him with a cheery smile. 
“I just wanted to,” he began, digging his hand through his pocket and pulling out a handful of gold coins. “For this morning.” 
You shook your head, but took his wrist in your hand, pulling him through the door. Your fingers sparked when you felt his warm skin against yours. “You visiting is quite enough - ”
Eris groaned, wishing you’d held onto him for just a little bit longer. “I don’t need special treatment.”
You rolled your eyes. “I can’t be nice to you anymore, Eris?”
He smiled, sharp teeth glinting in the dim faelight. “Are you being nice to me or being nice to my family?” 
He watched you tut, giving him an indiscreet up and down. It almost made him nervous. “Just you.” And Eris smiled at that, his own selfishness getting the best of him, but glad you had invited him in. “I like when you visit. You don’t do it enough.” 
You’d set the broom against the table, hands clasped in front of you trying your damnedest not to look like a giddy child in a candy shop. Eris glowed, watching your movements, daring to see how much else you’d reveal to him. 
Eris was too busy staring at you, committing every feature of yours to memory, to respond. “How about some tea?” You asked, already making your way to the kitchen. 
“Please,” he nearly sighed, and no matter how happy and excited he was to be back at your bakery, he was still beat from a day of Winter Court bullshit. 
You disappeared only momentarily, returning just after you’d set the kettle over the stovetop, with two mugs in hand. You set them on the table by the window, the seats both cushioned with freshly fluffed pillows. Eris joined you, eyeing the loose tea leaves at the bottom of the cups, a mixture of chamomile flowers, linden leaves, and peppermint. 
He smiled gratefully, seeing your body relax once you’d slid into the chair across from him. “You like it here?” Eris couldn’t help but ask. You seemed to work yourself into exhaustion, rising before the sun, staying past dusk, holed away in the quaint cafe. It was a small town, too far from the other Autumn villages to easily visit - though, he supposed there would be plenty of adventure in the woods beyond and the mountains between Winter. That ought to be dangerous, especially given the fact that if Beron found out about his subjects crossing the border, he’d outright banish or kill them. 
You smiled back at the High Lord’s son, him looking equally as tired as you must have. Light purple lined the tops of his cheekbones, starkly contrasting his otherwise luminous pale skin. His brows were taught, pulled together as if really contemplating your answer - or perhaps overthinking his question. He’d forgotten his coat on the back of his chair, a dark blazer underneath. His eyes glowed, his red irises burning brighter as the light from the windows faded.
“I do,” you hummed, content with your little date. 
But the screeching of the kettle interrupted you, and right as you placed your hands on the table to push yourself up, Eris stopped you. “Let me, please.” Before you could even respond, he was already on his feet, rushing off into the back kitchen to pull the kettle off.
He returned with the kettle in one hand and a bottle of honey in the other. He poured your cup first and then his, setting the hot water to the side. Surely, should you let him stay long enough, it would be easy enough for him to reheat later. 
“You were saying?” He continued, eyes locked on the mug before him, dropping in a swirl of honey to his tea. 
You bit your lip, pushing your mug closer to him. His eyes flitted up to you once before he repeated the action. “I like it here. It’s small - I know all of my customers by now. All of their names, their orders, it’s like a little family.” 
Eris nodded along, leaning back in his chair. “No problems with the Winter Court?” 
You rolled your eyes. I have more problems with the current court, if we were being honest. “It’s cold,” you replied. “It’s quiet. But far away enough that we aren’t…” You bit your tongue. “Not that there’s anything wrong with - ”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” Eris replied, not shocked with your response. “I understand.”
Just like any other Fae on the continent, he reminded himself: scared of his father. He wasn’t surprised, this would be the perfect town to escape Beron’s tight holds. It wasn’t close enough that he kept it under his nose, monitoring the town and the villagers. It wasn’t particularly useful to him - no major crops or orchards, maybe lumber from the redwoods, but there were far closer regions he could busy himself with. 
But he saw how quickly your brows raised and cheeks turned red at your comment. It was almost as if you’d forgotten he was the High Lord’s son up until that moment. 
Eris was ashamed to carry the Vanserra name. 
He finished off his tea, suddenly uncomfortable with keeping you so late. Maybe the reason you were so nice to him was because of who his father was. You were hosting him out of formality, not friendship or desire - you were probably afraid he’d go running back to the Forest House with your name at the top of his list. 
You reached a hand out to him, watching his lips turn into a frown and his brows narrow as he lost himself in thought. “That’s not what I meant.” 
“If there is anyone who gets it, (Y/N), believe me - I do.” He took a long sip from the mug in his hand, set it down silently, and pushed himself from the seat. His hands fumbled over his coat, swinging it over his shoulders and fastening it shut. “I don’t want to keep you any longer - I’ve intruded quite enough.” He turned to the door, to avoid watching you awkwardly scramble to your feet. The sky was dark, the only light along the street was the glow from the faelights in the windows of the houses along the way. He turned back on his heel to face you, staring up at him, bewildered. “Can I at least walk you home?”
You pressed your lips together, clasping your hands in front of you. “I live upstairs, actually.”
“Ah.” It was all that came from him, which left the male cursing himself once more. Fucking idiot. “Well thank you again, (Y/N).” Back to formalities, back to square one. 
You nodded once more, watching as he turned to the door. As he reached for the handle, you stopped him, grabbing his other hand. His skin was burning hot and sent sparks into you. “You’re welcome anytime here, Eris.” You waited until he turned around, fully acknowledging your words. “And not just because of who your father is.” 
Eris nodded, albeit a bit numbly, as you sent his mind reeling the moment he felt your fingers grasp his. Should I do it?
He wanted to kiss you so badly. So badly that his fingers itched to grab you and pull you against him. You batted your eyelashes at him, all innocent as if you had no idea what you were doing. Maybe you weren’t doing anything - no signals, no invitation to kiss you, love you, fuck you. 
It was all in his head, it had to be. 
He couldn’t compromise your innocence, not when he’d already been seen alone in the cafe with you twice in one day. He could only imagine what the other Fae were thinking, how he’d either besmirched your reputation or created a scandal in the small town. 
“Then I’ll be sure to return more often.” With that, he gave your fingers a squeeze and turned - forcing every fiber of his being not to take you with him. 
_________________________
Eris couldn’t sleep again. Gods, he felt ill. 
He was clammy all over - absolutely disgusting. He’d forced himself from bed and into the bath, letting the cold water wash over him and take away whatever it was he was feeling. His heart was racing out of his chest, his breathing was jagged - it was unlike any other fever he’d had. 
And then he felt it, laying in the cold water of the porcelain tub. It felt like a rubber band snapped against his ribcage. It winded him, had him lurching forward and clutching his chest. He figured the copper taste in his mouth was a figment of his imagination, being no stranger to the taste of blood. Maybe he bit his tongue when he felt the snap, it had his heart lurching upwards into his scarred throat. 
Eris’s fingers gripped the edge of the cold bathtub - he felt the water turning hotter by the second. He couldn’t control the heat that emitted from his body, the simmering flames smothered in his palms. 
That was it.
That was it. 
He wasn’t dying - not if you could call being utterly grossly in love dying. 
His heart hammered in his chest and the fire roared through his veins. It felt like he was suffocating, sure, but it felt good. His hands were shaking, and he knew the only cure would be to have you in them. You were the one who could teach him how to breathe again.
He huffed a long shaky breath, leaning back in the tub until his back touched the now warm ceramic. Curls of steam began to dance on the surface of the water that seemed to be rippling in time with his heartbeat. 
Eris shut his eyes, trying his damndest to clear his head, to calm the fuck down. But all he saw was you, the flour that dusted your cheek, the apron wrapped so tight around your waist he wished it were his hands. He thought of your cheeks, rosy and red from the ovens, your plump lips sipping on tea, how sweet you looked drinking your milky coffee. Then he remembered the shape of your brow, how it quirked downwards when you’d mentioned his father, how you gnawed on that bottom lip of yours when he’d been in such a rush to leave. 
But it didn’t matter what you thought of his father, of the whole damned Autumn Court itself. He’d get on his knees before you to beg, plead for you to understand - it’s not his fault, it’s not him. 
So that’s what he set off to do. 
He pushed himself from the near boiling water, haphazardly drying himself off as he skitted to the wardrobe. He flung it open, opting for a casual pair of brown trousers and a white linen shirt. He ought to be prepared to do a lot of begging, spending the whole morning on his knees begging for you to accept him as a mate, begging for a taste. 
_________________________
It was only seven hours since you’d seen Eris, the whole time you’d spent thinking of him and replaying your latest conversation. It was very much the same after each time you’d seen him, spending the evening tossing and turning, picturing his red hair and soft smile, the freckles over his cheeks and that little scar under his eye. You imagined what it would be like to hold him in your arms, laying on top of you, suffocating you in the best way; you pictured what it’d be like for him to hold you, laying behind you, arms wrapped fully around you, holding you against his chest. 
But you laid in bed alone, staring at the clock until the golden hands ticked to three o’clock. 
You pushed the covers from yourself, shivering at the cold that swept through your bones. You’d gotten better at fighting that fight, the urge to stay in bed and revel in your warmth instead of forcing yourself downstairs at such an early hour. The warm ovens called to you, but you’d have to overcome the chill of the nearly Winter air and the cold hardwood floor. 
You wondered if it would be warmer with Eris there. As if the male just naturally heated every room he walked into - 
No. 
You shook your head, trying to rid the thoughts of the Autumn heir from your mind. You’d only distract yourself. You knew the visit yesterday would have to last you for the rest of the month. You could only begin to count down the days until you anticipated his return. 
So instead, you shuffled down the stairs, pulling open your recipe book and setting out a few bowls. You hadn’t decided the day before what you were making yet - not like you usually did. Your mind had been much too occupied. You settled on figuring it out later, just starting with something simple and figuring out a custard later. With flour dusting the counter, you rolled out some dough, working it until it was so thin that it was almost transparent. A simple croissant surely would do, you’d thought. Maybe you could use up some of the pumpkin or raspberries…
You’d gone rifling around for inspiration when you felt a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t the cold of the early morning, nor the chill from the produce cooler. No - it was the hard knock on the door, rattling the closed sign against the wooden frame. 
You bit your lip, debating wiping out all the Faelights - that no doubt alerted whoever was outside that you were in. But you had no choice, as the knock sounded again, softer this time, but still enough to prove your visitor’s determination to talk to you. 
Not once in your centuries of owning the cafe had you had a morning visitor. Nobody had ever shown up before opening, especially not at three in the godsdamned morning.
All you could do was grab your stone rolling pin from the counter, holding it between your two shaky hands as you trotted quietly to the door. But as you stepped around the counter and wove through the tables, you’d spotten a tuft of red hair through the window. 
Red hair, pale skin, long coat, the smell of firewood and burnt sage. 
Your heart stuttered, pure shock replaced with utter bewilderment. Your throat tightened, nervous as to what he may be visiting for - what you may have said that offended him. Then you sighed, dropping your head to stare at the thick cotton dress you wore, the wool sock on your feet. Fuck, you huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of your face. The Mother could not have prepared you less. 
All you could do was pull the door open, holding the rolling pin behind your back. 
And when the door swung open, the cold coming in immediately, Eris’s eyes were blown wide. The red around his dilated pupils glowing against the dark of night. Gods you were so fucking beautiful. His gaze roamed over your messy hair, the loose dress that hung over your shoulders, the cozy looking socks on your feet. 
“Hey,” he said, quieter than intended. He cleared his throat, stepping closer, arms tightly pressed behind his back. “Sorry to - interrupt.” He couldn’t stop - his eyes were roaming, frantically moving between yours, trying not to wander over your body, his mind was reeling, heart was pounding out of his chest. His cheeks were flushed, breathing ragged - the bond was fucking with him. Absolutely fucking with him - he wasn’t even sure if he’d be able to stand in front of you much longer without having to get his hands on you. “I regretted leaving so abruptly last night. I stayed late and should have at least helped you clean up.”
You smiled. He was so serious. Those red eyebrows were raised, mouth parted, almost frowning at the corners - so distraught. “Don’t make a fuss about it - I just like your company.” I miss when you’re not here. I miss your visits. 
I missed you. 
The corner of his mouth turned up, gaze softening at your apparent forgiveness. He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. He moved his arm from behind his back, holding up a bundle of blue-ish hydrangeas - the flowers he hadn’t stopped thinking about bringing you. 
It wasn’t inconspicuous, like he hoped it would be. His mother caught on immediately, asking him why he kept inquiring about her flowers, what she’d pulled from the garden. Who are you bringing them for? He’d rolled his eyes at her, scoffing. I’m not bringing them to anyone, mother. I can’t show interest in the garden? So he’d been deterred from bringing them. He didn’t want to draw attention to it - to you - especially not from his father or courtiers. 
Until that night - until he had the perfect opportunity, when everyone was asleep, to snatch them from the table and winnow straight to you.
Your eyes fell to the bunch of flowers, jaw dropped, unable to speak. What did you say? What does one say to the High Lord’s son who brings you flowers. He brought you flowers. You simply couldn’t find the words. But when you looked back up at him, having to tilt your head upwards to meet his gaze, he looked so scared - unsure if you’d accept them, as if he’d made some horrible mistake. 
And you couldn’t help but laugh, having to bite your lip to stop yourself. You didn’t take the flowers, you took his hand, that warm, blazing hot hand, and pulled him inside. “Well, no point in letting all the heat out.” And as if on cure, he lit up, warmth erupting from him, his chest radiating heat into your hand and arm. “Thank you, Eris, I… don’t even know what to say.” You pulled your fingers away from his, taking the bunch of flowers in your free hand.
But you had to place the rolling pin down, having to set it on the table closest to the door. His brows rose. “Preparing for battle, I see.” He surveyed the white stone, nodding his head in approval when he heard the clang of the marble against the iron table. 
You huffed a breathy laugh, ushering him inside and placing them in one of the empty vases from the bookshelf in the corner. You’d set it up on the counter, where everyone would be able to see the beautiful flowers Eris had brought for you. “I was hoping,” he began from behind you, hands shoved into his pants pockets, boot kicking at the thick grout between the stones on the floor. “You might let me help you this morning.”
You turned on your heel, spinning around so fast that you’d nearly startled the normally steadfast male. “You want to help me?”
He nodded. “I’m not very useful - I wouldn’t say I’m the best baker.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I used to help my mother bake apple pie but - ” he finished with a shrug, laughing through his own awkwardness. 
You couldn’t stop your smile. “Of course you can, Eris.” 
And truth be told, the male wasn’t bad. He’d kneaded the dough, he’d prepared the raspberry filling, and even mixed some fresh whipped cream. He’d followed all your instructions and even prepared you a cup of tea in the meantime, while you worked on your own dough at the opposite side of the counter. 
You’d spent far too long watching his hands knead the soft pastry, his long fingers and large knuckles flexing as he pushed the dough around. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt, forearms working with each move. You couldn’t help but notice the few missed buttons at the top of his shirt, pale collar bones peeking out. You’d made out some ridges over his skin, down his neck and tucked away underneath the fabric of his shirt. You couldn’t get a good look at it, not with the dimmed lights and loose shirt. 
He made light conversation, asking about the town, who your favorite patrons were. You’d asked him similar questions, how he likes fencing and polo, he’d indulged you in some childhood stories of wrestling his brothers in the Autumn rain - how they’d tracked mud through the entirety of the Forest House. When it came to his parents, though, the topic was off limits, as he’d scoffed and asked about your parents instead. 
By then, the hours had easily slipped past you - the pastries cooling after their bout in the ovens. Eris leaned against the counter, watching as you sliced the baked pumpkin you held in front of you, scooping the soft contents into a bowl to begin your filling mixture. 
His eyes watched your hands work, unable to meet your eyes, afraid of your response. “I have a confession.” 
You looked up only momentarily, not a stutter in the whisk as you continued mixing. “Confess away,” you replied softly, heart suddenly lurching into your chest. 
He swallowed thickly, but raised his gaze to your face - your focused look - as you stared back down at the bowl. “I - last night after I left - there was a…” He trailed off, sucking in a deep breath. “I felt the…” Eris’s throat was closing. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that he thought it would break all of his ribs. “I believe we’re mates, (Y/N).”
Your breath caught in your throat, suddenly all air evaded you and your heart seemed to stop. Mates? Mates? Gods, you knew you liked Eris - who wouldn’t? The male was beautiful and tall and kind and -
You swallowed hard. To hide your shaking hands, you continued working on the pastries. You kept you eyes sole trained on the table in front of you, fearful that if you looked up, if you saw those red eyes before you, that you’d surely crumble away in a fit of tears, laughter - you weren’t quite sure.
You were elated.
So fucking elated, in fact, that you didn’t know what to do.
But you didn’t respond. You didn’t make a move - not an eyebrow raise, not a quirk of your lips, nothing. “I know we don’t really know each other - I’ve wanted to stay longer, believe me.” The male rambled on, filling the silence you’d offered. “I just felt this thing last night after I left and it’s been eating me away since and I already knew that I cared for you so much and you’re so - fuck, so godsdamned beautiful but I - ”
You straightened, pulling your shoulders back and dropping the whisk. “It’s okay, Eris.”
His eyes widened. “It’s okay?” What the fuck did that mean?
You’d turned to grab a pastry off the rack - the one you’d kneaded, the one that turned out so much flakier and taller than his. “It’s okay.” You smiled, though, but didn’t falter in your movements, continuing to assemble what looked like a dessert sandwich. 
He stared incredulously at you. “Did you… hear what I said?” 
And so you laughed, a light giggle that had Eris reeling. You pushed over the pumpkin Mille-Feuille, nodding at him as he stared at it like it was otherworldly. “You told me one time you liked the pumpkin turnovers because it was your favorite Autumn Court fruit.”
The male was bug-eyed. “This is for me?”
You nodded.
“Just for me?”
Again, with a smile, you nodded. 
Eris looked between you and the fluffy pastry. “For me?” He raised a hand and gestured between the two of you. 
“Yes, Eris. I made you a pumpkin pastry. For you.” His cheeks tinged pink, but let out a breathy sigh of relief. You added for clarification: “Not on the menu.”
Gods, yes. It was the only thought running through his mind. 
“And even in all that rambling, you haven’t asked me to be your mate,” you continued, voice raised an octave, teasing the poor nervous male. He opened his mouth to interrupt - to ask - but you cut him off. “I would love to be, Eris Vanserra.”
And while his heart rate didn’t slow down, he calmed, shoulders relaxed and eyes shut in relaxation. His hands fell to the treat before him, staring at the perfect little pastry. He could finally breathe again - as if in the past three minutes he’d been stilled, lungs, hands, and mind unable to work properly. 
But Eris dug in anyway, picking up the soft treat like it was the most delicate thing in the world. He took a big bite, holding his free hand underneath, catching all the flakes that broke off, saving every bite. He chewed slowly, licking his lips to savor the pumpkin flavor and the light pastry. His eyes fell to yours, wide and wanting, watching you like a hawk.
You didn’t dare move, frozen in place as the male ate. 
As the bond solidified.
As he became your mate.
By the time he’d finished, his breathing was ragged and he had to press his hands against the counter to keep his balance. You watched his chest rise and fall, the linen shirt loose on his frame but hugged his broad shoulders. Those red eyes burned into yours, as though waiting for you to make the first move. 
Or waiting for your permission. 
So you took a step backward, pushing yourself from where you’d been nearly clinging onto the counter, where it was holding you upright. And as soon as you’d freed yourself from the confines of the countertop, he’d pounced. Eris felt like leaping across the counter and pulling you into his arms. Instead, which might have cost his last ounce of decency, he’d taken the few long strides towards you and grabbed you. 
To be fair, he was as tender as he could have been, what with his heart beating up into his throat and his lungs burning, winding his arms around your back, fingers gripping the cotton that hung loose on your frame. His head dipped, immediately catching your lips with his. You were quick to follow his lead, throwing your arms around his neck and rising on your tiptoes to meet him. 
Gods, he was warm - it was all that you could think of. His heat spread into you, the physical heat, but also those internal flames, the warmth that formed in the center of your chest as the bond built itself between the two of you. Sparks sizzled between you, and you were sure you felt them when your lips met in a fiery kiss. 
Your fingers threaded through your hair as his hands roamed your back. He tasted like cinnamon, like the pumpkin from your mating food, the burnt sage that mirrored in his scent, that filled the cafe as soon as he walked through the door. 
“I don’t know anything about you,” you breathed, a soft sigh against his lips as his mouth skimmed your bottom lip, over your chin, down across your jaw. 
He released something half crossed between a moan and a sigh. “We have time to talk about me,” he whispered against your ear, biting at your soft flesh. “Later.” His lips ran over your cheek again, and he left a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Much, much later.” 
You hummed in response, pressing yourself to his front again, chest, stomachs, legs - all of it. Eris groaned, sinking down on his knees, stopping when he was eye level with you. His red irises burned with an eternal flame, burned into you with the promise of forever. He wrapped his arms fully around your waist, his elbows at your ribs and knees on either side of your legs. He tilted his head forward, only until your lips met, noses brushing against each other. 
Your lips parted on instinct alone, the breath pulled from your lungs when his lips met yours - so soft, barely meeting at all. You could have cried, screamed, grabbed his hair and pulled him further against you. But all he gave you was a touch, so close your eyelashes nearly tangled. His mouth brushed yours again and you snapped - arms linked around him still, pulling him against you. “Upstairs?” You asked, fully against his mouth, the word muffled between your lips and heavy breaths. 
He shook his head, still not breaking the kiss. His hands ran down the small of your back and over your ass, cupping the back of your thighs and pulling you upwards, setting you on the counter in front of him. Eris let his fingers find the hem of your nightgown, trailing over the skin of your bare flesh. You were burning hot, like you ran a fever at his touch. In the cold air, his touch sent shivers down your spine. 
“I can’t wait, (Y/N).” His lips barely left yours. “I have to have you now.”
“Then get on with it,” you mewled, taking his hands in yours and dragging them up your thighs, under the gown. “I’ve been waiting far too long for this, Eris.” 
You leveled his gaze - it struck quite the nerve with him, he never thought he’d succumb to an ethereal being like you, especially not to one he got to call his mate. 
As his hands roamed under your gown, your own explored his chest, running over the lean muscle and pulling at the buttons. You’d pulled them apart one by one, eyes shut and mouth being devoured by Eris. He seemed to pay no mind, working his way to your hips, squeezing at your thighs. You opened the shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, breaking away from him momentarily. 
And Eris felt it, felt it through the fresh bond between you. He felt your heart stutter, felt the shock that flooded your system. 
His heart stopped, lungs held his air hostage. 
And then you’d felt it - the utter disgust and shame that rang through him.
So you raised your hands, holding his jaw in your palms, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone - over the other faint scar that laced his skin. You weren’t sure what to say - if you should say anything at all. But he’d already noticed your surprise. That’s all it was - surprise, not in the hardened male before you, but at that any one male could endure that much pure trauma. You were not disgusted with your mate, not horrified at the scaring.
You we’re just… “What happened to you, my love?”
And he blinked a few times, turning his head in your hands and raising his own hands, holding your wrists in his palms. His throat worked, his mind rolling over the proper response. You moved your hands, dropping them down his cheeks, fingertips grazing the marred skin on his neck, the slashes over his collarbones and down the puckered skin of his chest. His hands remained on yours the whole time, feeling you work your way down his body. 
My love. It made the fire inside of him burn brighter. He imagined you’d felt it too, felt the initial draw toward him like he did to you - even before you were mates. 
“That’s a story for another time.” He whispered, gazing down at you from under his eyelashes. “If you’ll still have me.”
You were almost shocked to hear that - to hear him question your desire to be with him just based on his scars. You wouldn’t expect such doubt from him. So all you could do was sit up a little taller, pull you down to your lips and offer him the most reassuring kiss of his life. 
He made quick work of your dress, unbuttoning the small row of buttons behind your back. You shimmied the dress from under you, where you’d been sitting on the soft fabric, and let Eris bunch it up and drag it up over your sides and arms. He slid it off quickly, discarding it in a pile along with his shirt. His eyes and hands roamed over you, exploring the curves and ridges of your body. 
Your cheeks reddened, so exposed before the male you’d barely known, but longed for him to touch you. You’d thought of this moment many times, during those sleepless nights, some of which ended up leaving you with your hand between your legs. 
Eris felt your blush through the bond, he felt your outright attraction, the desperation you had. And he knew he mirrored it through the bond, too. It’s what made you pull him back into you, until he stepped right up against the counter and the front of those trousers were pressed against your undergarment. He ground against you, unable to hold in the urge as the ferocity flooded his veins, the bond finally taking hold of him now that he had you laid out in front of him. 
You moaned at the feeling, his hardened cock a tent in his pants, slotting perfectly between your lips. He moved up and down, gliding against the warm heat from your pussy, the smooth fabrics only aiding in his desperation - your too. Gods, you could have come from that alone should he only have kept going. 
But the male wasn’t having it. He kicked off his boots and unbuttoned his pants, shucking both along your kitchen floor, discarded for what he hoped would be the next few days. 
Eris’s cock bounced up against his stomach as he neared you, the precum gathered on the tip mixing into the fine pale hairs that trickled down his bellybutton to the base of his cock. Eris wouldn’t even touch himself, deciding it would be fucking ethereal, should you reach out and grab him. 
And, luckily, you did, holding your hand out for him to step back into position. Your hand wrapped around his dick, fully hard and standing proud. You’d surely need two hands to work him properly, perhaps even your mouth, too. His skin was warm in your palm, hot and ready to combust as you ran your hand up and down, offering him a small squeeze as you neared the base, your thumb rubbing the tip when it slid up.
You couldn’t hold out much longer, either. You’d pressed him up right against your pussy as he just did, leaning back on your other elbow so you could further spread your hips. You held his cock with your other hand still, pressing it into your pussy. Eris began to rock, back and forth, back and forth, wincing at how wet your pussy sounded. His cock glided along your cunt effortlessly.
He braced a hand on the counter, on either side of you, and held his hips back. He let you continue to rub his dick as he leaned in close for a chaste kiss. He rubbed his nose against your ear, hot air stirring around you. “Are you going to let me fuck you, my love?” 
You moaned - you’d heard many tales of the trickster male’s wicked tongue, but hadn’t been granted the opportunity to hear him use it around you. You were very much looking forward to exploring that side of him. 
Gone was the chamomile drinking, flower giving High Lord’s son. This was Eris, hot and heady and ready.
His one hand moved over to hold yours, moving your fingers to grab his cock and angle it into you. You gasped as the head nudged your folds, pushing only the tiniest bit in. You clenched around nothing, as he rocked back and forth, the head moving against your entrance but not in. “Will you let me mate you? Fill you up? Claim you?”
“Gods, yes,” you moaned, trying to move off the counter even closer to him, to inch his dick farther into you. “Please, Eris. My mate - ” 
You were cut off with a harsh gasp, Eris sunk halfway in as you rambled on. “Oh my gods - please.” 
He moved slowly, warming you up to his length. “Still so much more for you,” he murmured, holding your hand against your lower stomach. He pressed it softly into you, around your soft flesh, so you could feel him enter in you as he pushed his cock all the way, bottoming out.
He held there for a moment, reveling in how you squeezed your walls around him. It was unlike anything he felt before. The roaring in his chest from the bond fed straight into his cock - willing him to drive into you over and over and over. 
But as much as he wanted to hold himself back, he found himself moving faster and faster, hitting farther inside of you with each stroke. Your moans spurred him on - your gasps, your prayers to the Mother - to him. 
Your hands fell around you, gripping anything you could find, looking to anchor yourself on something, anything. 
“You feel so good, (Y/N).” He huffed, breathing becoming ragged as he fucked into you. “I can’t believe I’ve waited this long for you.”
His cock stretched you, the familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach already causing you to clench around him. “You have me, Eris, fuck.” He grabbed your hips, holding you still, driving into you harder. “Please, more, Eris.” 
So he rutted into you, Eris hooked his knee onto the counter, pushing himself up, joining you on the floury surface. Your arms splayed out, knocking over bowls and eggs, ingredients falling to the floor and clinging to your sweaty skin. He hooked his knees around either side of your hips, positioning himself directly above you, driving straight down into your wet pussy. 
He groaned - an estranged deep noise coming from the male’s throat. His one hand was positioned beside your head, holding himself above you - though, you wouldn’t care if that male suffocated you, if he laid all the weight he’d been holding all his life onto you - the other came to cradle your cheek, holding your jaw with his thumb brushed against your chin. Your breathing mixed with Eris’s, your shared air, heat, love. You sighed, feeling his cock drive deep into you, hit the deep spot inside of you - he stretched you, seeped into you, molded into you. 
He fucked you so hard that you felt yourself moving, inching closer to the edge of the counter. Your hair fell first, starting to fall over your shoulders and off the counter. But Eris held your head, cradled you as you neared the edge, feeling your stomach coil at the rhythmic pounding in your pussy. 
Eris didn’t stop until you came, until your fingernails dug into his biceps and you screamed his name. He followed behind you quickly, his hips snapping into yours until he painted you white, with his cum that marked the bond. He claimed you as his, and silently thanked the Mother for her blessing. 
His bright eyes washed over you, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, lips swollen and bruised from his kisses, crying out for him. He watched how our brows knitted together, your skin was flushed with a pink blush. He committed everything to memory, the heave of your chest, the sweat across your collarbone, your throat working to gasp air. 
He pulled out of you, dastardly watching the mix of both of your cum slide out of your pussy. He longed to feel it, to drag his finger up your sweet cunt, to lick it up. He knelt above you, pushing himself off the counter and grabbing your hips, pulling you centered on the tabletop. You huffed a sigh, arms limp and covered in flour at your sides. 
His warm fingers caressed your hips, your thighs, the muscles burning from being spread so wide. You dragged a hand over his arm, up his shoulder until you met the back of his neck. Your fingers brushed through the back of his red curls. “We made quite the mess.” You were tired, sounded so breathless - it nearly made Eris’s knees wobble. 
He laughed, though, a hearty chuckle, quite proud of his creation. He surveyed the messy kitchen, in no shape to bake, to serve anything made from or around the mess that had become evidence of your mating bond. But after pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, the male was off, walked those long legs to the counter and scribbled down a note on a piece of scrap paper beside your recipe book. 
Even his handwriting was beautiful. “Closed until further notice.” 
He rushed back to you, scooping you in his arms, holding you tightly against him, even as you broke out into a fit of giggles.
“Now you can show me this upstairs I’ve heard so much about.” And you knew right then that you’d be riding the high of your mating frenzy until Eris had learned every inch of you.
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swansworth · 1 year
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By Fire’s Light [Part One]
Eris Vanserra x Reader
Summary: Kallias had warned you when he assigned you to act as an ambassador of the Winter Court within the borders of the Autumn Court, “Be careful with Eris Vanserra”. It was understandable advice; on the surface he was as cold as ice, utterly disinterested in the wellbeing of others. And yet, this male saved you and ensured your survival, a burning fire in his golden eyes. You could feel a pull within your heart, a small voice that said there was more hidden beneath the façade. So what was the truth; the ice or the fire?
Warnings for this part: mild alcohol use, mild violence, mention of torture, mentions of drowning and freezing, some language, slow burn
Word Count: 5320
Author Notes: This came to me while thinking about Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights and the film Crimson Peak and speaking with my darling, @bubbles-for-all-of-us​ , about classic literature and gothic romance. I realized that Eris fits that darker brooding gentleman archetype rather well and decided to roll with it. So enjoy part one of this romance with a hint of Brontë and Austen inspiration.
I will also note, as he is in a few scenes, that Dolos is the name I came up with for one of the unnamed Vanserra brothers. SJM is fond of tying in names from mythology into her works, so I thought it was fitting that the unnamed Vanserra brother be named after the Greek spirit of trickery. Marianne is his wife.
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There was a loud clash as Marianne, in her drunken stupor, knocked over another vase. Dolos, who was one drink shy of being just as inebriated, gripped her arm firmly and dragged her to the doorway. Neither of them said a word as Dolos pulled her out of the parlor in the hopes of convincing her to retire for the evening. You watched the pair cautiously out of the corner of your eye, constantly wary around them. In your short time within the Autumn Court it had become obvious that Marianne would do anything to see her husband become the High Lord and Dolos was just as ruthless as his father, just as bloodthirsty and eager for power. Together, they were not to be taken lightly, even if all they seemed to do was cuss, drink, and smother one another in public displays of affection. 
‘Well,’ you thought, ‘At least they like one another.’
When the sounds of their murmuring and scuffled footsteps finally faded away into silence, you turned your gaze to the eldest Vanserra brother. Eris hadn’t moved from his armchair near the fire in over an hour, too busy swirling what little wine remained in his glass and watching the flickering flames slowly settle into embers. There was just enough light that you could see the way his brow furrowed as if deep in thought. 
“Did they not teach you that it is impolite to stare in your lands?” His voice was smooth and rough all at once, elegant with a natural husk to it. The amber of his eyes almost glowed in the dying firelight as he focused on you. His gaze held its usual intensity, stern and yet inquisitive, almost as if he were trying to dissect you. 
“They did. Though I don’t think simply looking at you equates to staring.” 
“This is not the first time I’ve felt your wandering gaze on me,” he said, uncaring of your previous statement. There was a shift in his expression as his usual grimace pulled back into an amused smirk. “Do you find me handsome?” 
“Doesn't everyone?” The amusement vanished as quickly as it came. That was one thing you liked about Eris: he was not a fool. What many would take as a compliment he knew very well you meant as a subtle insult. “You’d be surprised,” he said simply before lifting his wine glass to his lips and downing the rest of the red liquid. 
Silence fell between the two of you while he continued to stare at the fireplace and you thought about how to best slip out of the room. 
When Kallias had asked you to stay in the Autumn Court in an effort to encourage peace and potentially secure an alliance, he had warned you about the Vanserras. Lucien was kind but was as clever as the fox that he was so often associated with. Dolos was a liar and a murderer who could not be trusted, but he could be persuaded to assist so long as he benefited greatly from the deal. Though, dealing with Dolos also meant dealing with Marianne who could see through almost any attempt of persuasion. The other two brothers tended to follow Dolos’s lead. Then there was Eris…
Your gaze drifted to Eris once more.
“Eris is possibly the biggest threat of them all,” Kallias had said, “He keeps his true thoughts to himself and is playing a long, dangerous game. You will never know if he is your friend or a foe as he plays both sides so well. He can be both the sheep and the wolf in sheep’s clothing simultaneously. Be careful with Eris Vanserra.” 
Kallias had been right to warn you, Eris was every bit as cunning as he was handsome. You’d seen the way his eyes would flicker as he made mental notes of various conversations and tidbits of information. He had a journal, locked somewhere in his own private quarters, of his various thoughts and plans. Dolos had told you once after drinking his weight in ale and had mentioned that his father desperately wished to find it. If that were true, you wondered how the Winter Court would be able to benefit from such a thing. 
“You have that look again,” Eris’s voice drifted through the now dark room and startled you slightly. You’d been so deep in thought that you’d forgotten he was there with you. 
“And what look is that?” 
“The one that means you’re planning something.” You heard his chair creak as he rose to his feet. There was a soft tap on a nearby table as he set his glass down, followed by the sound of his shoes faintly scraping against the hardwood floor as he made his way over to you. As your eyes adjusted to the dark you saw his silhouette crouch before you, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you. His eyes always seemed to be on fire, burning like molten gold, ablaze with something unspoken. “What sort of wicked scheme are you hatching, little moth?”
Little moth. In some regions of the continent, Winter Moths were viewed as an invasive species, as a danger to the world that needed to be exterminated as swiftly as possible. You knew that in Eris’s eyes that was exactly what you were; a pesky little insect that needed to be squished beneath the heel of his boot before you could ruin anything. 
“I might ask the same question of you, Eris Vanserra,” you replied, your voice and gaze unwavering. Eris rose without a word but his eyes never broke the contact they held with yours. For a male whose powers were based in that of fire, all you felt when you were near him was cold. Everything about him was like ice; dangerous, frigid, and brutal. 
“I would advise, dear lady,” he said at last, “That you watch your tongue in these lands, lest someone carve it out of your mouth.” With that he gave a bow and bid you goodnight before taking his leave. ‘Such a charming gentleman, truly,’ you thought as you watched him go. 
Once alone, you allowed your mind to wander again. You thought over the day’s events and wondered what moments were worth sharing with Kallias in your next letter to him. Your eyes grew heavy as the clock on the wall continued to tick. Soon enough, before you had the chance to return to your chambers, sleep fell over you.
═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══
You woke up the next morning in your bed. The blankets were warm and cozy, implying that you had been in them for some time. Confusion filled your mind as you stared up at the ceiling. How did you end up there? You sat up and watched as the door opened, emitting two servants into the room. When they noticed you were awake, they both paused. The one on the left, a beautiful fae with russet brown hair and eyes like warm honey, made her way over to you and placed a hand on your forehead. “Oh thank the Cauldron. You’re all right.” 
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” At your question, she shied away a bit and took a step back. 
“Forgive me, my lady. The master was very worried about you and he insisted we verify you were well this morning.” 
The master? Beron? Surely not; he wouldn’t have cared about your wellbeing. He had been nothing but cruel and unpleasant since you arrived. Even if he had agreed to allow an ambassador of the Winter Court in his lands, he was very clearly unhappy about it. Dolos wouldn’t have been kind enough to move you somewhere warm. So that meant…
“You mean Eris?” There was a hint of surprise in your tone as you spoke, but their answering smiles told you all you needed to know. 
“Yes, master Eris. I am Selene, one of the servants in Eris’s employment. He asked me, and Viola over there, to see to your needs and to care for you if you were sick.” You glanced over at Viola. From what you could see, she seemed young, her rust-colored eyes wide and her curly auburn hair bouncy and full. Looking back to Selene, you asked, “Why would Eris think I was unwell?”
Viola stepped forward then, her voice bright and gentle as she said, “He told us he could not sleep, so he returned to the drawing room and saw that you were asleep on the same chair you’d been in when he had retired for the evening. He said that you had been cold as ice and were not breathing well.” 
Your heart seemed to almost tighten as she spoke and one of your hands slid up to your chest. “When did he tell you this?” 
“It was as he carried you through the door to your chambers, my lady. He called for us and had us follow him. He explained what had happened, told us what he expected of us, set a fire to warm the room then left.” At Selene’s words, your head snapped to the fireplace on the other side of the room. 
There, still burning brightly, was a fire. Now that you were aware of it, you weren’t sure how you hadn’t felt it or seen it right away. You slid out of your bed and noted that the floor was not cold against your bare feet as it normally was. Making your way past Selene and beyond Viola, you slowly moved towards it like a moth to flame. You could feel the magic coming from it; it was strong and full of intent. Eris’s magic. The fire was warm, comforting, safe. You moved a hand towards it, to better feel the heat of it, and you could have sworn you saw it slowly flicker in response. It was beautiful, a darker color than the fire you were accustomed to seeing. This was Eris’s? This incredible, radiant thing? You remembered then that this same fire could lay waste to an entire kingdom, and so you took a step back and decided it wasn’t wise to linger. 
“I don’t suppose you ladies would know whether or not I missed breakfast?” You asked, turning to face the two females. 
“You did not, my lady,” Selene answered with a smile, “Master Eris instructed us to see to your needs. So if we may, allow us to get you ready for the day.” 
You blinked in mild surprise but did not refuse. When you saw your reflection in the tall standing mirror near your armoire, you were glad that you hadn’t. “Thank you Selene and Viola. You’ve done wonderfully.” It was a genuine compliment and you caught them giving one another a knowing look before they bowed their heads and excused themselves. Once they had left, you made your way to the dining hall for something to eat. 
As you entered the room, Eris rose to his feet. He assisted in pulling out your chair and tucking you in before taking his own seat. It had been established early on that you were to sit beside him through every meal. Truthfully, you would have chosen to sit beside him rather than any of his brothers regardless. He was at least civil most of the time. 
After you’d managed to eat some food, you glanced at Eris, and said, “I want to thank you, for last night.” 
“Think nothing of it.” 
“May I ask why you did it? Your brothers would have left me there to freeze and grow ill.”
He turned his head to look at you and you watched his eyes narrow and darken. His voice was steady as he asked, “How heartless do you believe me to be?” 
You could have sworn you saw the faintest flicker of hurt in his amber eyes when you replied, “I am currently undecided.” 
“I see. Well, I suppose it is a good sign that your wit is still intact.” Guilt flowed through you as he turned his attention back to his breakfast. You clutched at your chest again, and took a steadying breath before returning to your own meal. Silence fell and you watched from the corner of your eye as Eris frowned at Dolos. You flicked your gaze to the other Vanserra and noticed how Marianne was sitting in his lap, hand feeding him grapes. With each piece of fruit, Dolos would gently suck Marianne’s fingertips and make faint noises of pleasure. With each noise, the frustration rolling off of Eris grew more potent. 
“What’s wrong, brother?” Dolos teased, his voice breaking the silence. 
“Merely observing.” Eris’s voice was tight and low, as if he were holding back a snarl. 
“Observing is an awfully fancy way of saying you are jealous, Eris.” 
“I can assure you, Dolos, I hold no envy.” 
“You don’t want a beautiful lady on your lap and pampering you, Errie?” Marianne asked and you watched Eris fight back a scowl at the nickname. “I never said that, Marianne. On the contrary, I would be quite content to have a beautiful lady’s company. I’m certain Dolos would have liked the same.” 
You nearly choked on your water at the insult and had to hide a smile behind your glass as Marianne retorted, “Are you insinuating that I’m ugly?” 
“No, of course not. Merely stating that you’re not a lady.” You couldn’t hold back the laugh that came out of you and you saw Eris shoot you an approving look as Dolos and Marianne began to shout profanities at Eris. Regaining your composure, you listened as Eris calmly wound the situation down with tactfully phrased sentences. 
"As much as I'd love to sit here and continue this riveting conversation, I really must be going." That was news to you. Eris had made no mention of traveling. 
“Where are you off to?" 
His gaze was searching as he looked at you, as if silently asking why you wanted to know. It softened after a moment and he said "I'm afraid I can't tell you all the details. The short version is I am meeting with some potential allies near the Night Court." 
The Night Court. You had never been, but you had heard horror stories about the tortures that occurred there. Their High Lord, Rhysand, was said to be even crueler than Beron. What would he do if he knew the heir to the Autumn Court was so close to his lands? Your hand moved on its own accord and grabbed his forearm. You could feel the muscle of his arm and you squeezed slightly as you said, “Be careful, Eris.” 
His hand was on top of yours then, warm and soft. You half expected him to say, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me.” His fingers stroked your wrist gently, lazily, as he instead said, “I will be.” For a brief moment, you stared at one another and all the world seemed to be still and silent around you, and then he was gone.
“I seem to recall a conversation we shared about Eris’s journal, do you remember that?” Dolos’s voice cut through the quiet Eris had left in his wake and you turned your attention to him; noted the calculating look in his dark eyes. “Granted I was intoxicated at the time, but every word I had said was true.”
“I do remember. May I ask why you are bringing it up?” Dolos leaned forward as Marianne slid off his lap and sat beside him. There was something burning in those dark, almost black, irises and you stiffened in your chair as Dolos said, “Help me retrieve it.”
“What?” You couldn’t have heard him correctly.
“Tell me, why do you think my brother is meeting near the Night Court? You’re no fool, ambassador. You know as well as I that he is meeting with that bastard, Rhysand, and that he is hoping to form an alliance so that together they can overthrow my father.”
“Let’s say you’re right, why should I help you?”
Dolos smirked, “I cannot bring this matter up to my father without proof of Eris’s betrayal. Help me retrieve it and I will be certain that you and your court are safe when I am made High Lord.” 
He couldn’t promise you that; no one could. Yet, you wondered whether it was worth the risk. Dolos was not known as an honest man, but if you could get him to swear to it, you may have some leverage. However, if you agreed, that meant that Beron would punish Eris and you had seen first hand the sort of punishment Beron could unleash. On your third day at the court, Beron had summoned you so that you could watch him make an example out of a traitor he’d discovered. It was brutal, bloody, and merciless. The traitor’s cries were seared into your memory. Beron had wanted you to see what would happen if you stepped out of line, and you understood entirely. That traitor had been a stranger to Beron. You couldn’t bear to think about what he would do to his own kin. It was a lot to consider. “Am I allowed to think it over?” 
“Of course. Though, don’t take too long. If we are going to act it needs to be soon, before Eris has the chance to make a move.” You nodded and excused yourself. Time seemed to move differently in the Autumn Court and you wondered what you could do to fill your day up as you headed in the direction of the library. A letter to Kallias was well overdue, that was certainly one thing you could accomplish. As you continued to ponder, you heard light footsteps behind you and couldn’t help the frown that formed on your face. You did not want to deal with Marianne one-on-one but she, unfortunately, caught up with you and looped her arm through yours as if you were close friends. 
“I suppose you have something to add?” 
“Indeed I do,” Marianne said, her voice sterner than you were used to hearing from her, “Betray Dolos and I will kill you. I will tear you apart, limb from limb, and have you begging for death at my feet. And no one, not even your precious Eris, will be able to save you.” 
You ignored her comment about Eris. Eris was agreeable enough most days, but you didn’t trust him and you didn’t particularly like him. You couldn’t, not with Kallias’s warning echoing through your mind. “Tell me, do you truly love him that much?” 
“There is no love between Dolos and myself. There is passion, hunger, and an understanding. There is too much at stake for anything else.” There was sadness in her eyes and for a moment you felt sorry for Marianne. You knew nothing of how she and Dolos ended up married to one another; she could have very well been forced into all of this. Still, she couldn’t be trusted, so you decided to respond as you usually would. “How romantic.” 
“Your witty tongue will get you killed, lady ambassador.” There was no bite to her remark and once more you wondered how she had ended up here with Dolos. 
“I’ll take my chances.” Marianne stared at you for a moment, as if considering. Everything in you said she was a threat, but she looked almost vulnerable as she nodded, let go of your arm, and took her leave. There was no retort, no snide remark. Nothing. You watched her go before continuing onward. 
═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══
Eris returned three days later. 
His pack of hounds howled in excitement as their master entered the dining hall. Dolos and Marianne winced at the sound but you laughed at how happy and eager they all were to be greeted by Eris. At the sound of your laughter, Eris’s attention turned solely to you and you felt the breath leave your lungs at the sight of him. His travel clothes were not much different from his preferred hunting attire, and you swallowed at how well fitted his trousers were. They showed off his thighs marvelously and you averted your attention back to the goblet in front of you to drink some more water. 
“Is that a new gown?” Eris asked, taking his usual seat beside you. Indeed it was new. Selene and Viola had been insistent on dressing you in a gown that better suited the warm tones of the Autumn Court. The bodice was a sage green embroidered with golden thread that swirled into intricate designs reminiscent of a willow tree’s elegant branches. It cut just below your breasts and from there soft layers of chiffon that were a gradient of yellow to red flowed to your feet. It was comfortable and complemented your figure well enough. You looked at Eris and replied, “It is. Selene and Viola were kind enough to give it to me.” 
“It suits you.” The blush that formed on your cheeks was genuine as was the slight quirk of his lips. Once more, the world seemed to halt as you stared at one another. Dolos cleared his throat and the pair of you turned your heads to look at him. There was a knowing look in his eyes and you watched as he leaned over in his seat to whisper something to his wife. You sighed; that was never good. 
“Did I miss anything particularly interesting?” Eris asked as he reached forward to grab the basket of bread and took a slice for himself. You hummed as you thought over the last few days. Truthfully, life in the Autumn Court had been rather dull while he was away. Marianne had pestered you a few times, and you had managed to write a few letters. Beyond that, there was nothing exciting. You couldn’t really talk to or banter with anyone the way you did Eris. Granted the male drove you insane and always found ways to get under your skin, but sometimes it was almost fun. 
“I’m sure you will be delighted to know that you took everything of interest with you when you left.” Eris arched his brow before taking a sip of his tea. 
“Is that right? Do you mean to say that my brothers and my sister-in-law are not interesting enough for your tastes?” 
“They are about as interesting as a sack of potatoes.” Eris chuckled at that and you found that you rather liked the sound of it. It was easy to forget, when he was soft and gentle like this, that this was the same male who looked at you like you were a pest and called you little moth. ‘Be careful of Eris Vanserra.’ You clung to those words like a lifeline and did what you could to remember that Eris, at the end of the day, was dangerous and cunning. No matter how handsome he may be and how soothing the sound of his laughter was, he was a threat. 
“Ambassador,” Marianne said, bringing your attention to her, “Would you be willing to escort me on a walk this afternoon? Dolos has business in town and although Erlik and Phenex agreed to accompany me, I would like someone with at least half a brain to join us.”  
Erlik and Phenex. The two Vanserra brothers you had little to no interaction with, apart from watching them argue at every meal and listening to them boast about how incredible they were. A long walk with them and Marianne sounded more like a punishment than anything else. However, you knew that you needed to stay in the good graces of everyone here as long as possible if Kallias’s plan to establish peace was going to work. Begrudgingly you replied, “Of course. I could use the fresh air.” 
Everyone seemed surprised by your answer, but you just smiled as pleasantly as possible before enjoying another sip of tea. “I should go with you,” Eris said softly for only you to hear. You shook your head and assured him that you could handle his brothers and Marianne for one afternoon. He didn’t look convinced but didn’t press the matter. Part of you was almost disappointed that he dropped the matter. 
═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══
The wind howled along the cliffs and you pulled your jacket closer to your body as you continued to walk beside Marianne. For whatever reason, Erlik and Phenex had been adamant about walking along the ocean, up on the cliffs that overlooked the sea. It was one of the preferred hunting spots of the Vanserras as there was a lush forest right beside the edge. You had looked at Marianne and she shrugged, uncaring one way or another. So there you both were, shivering and trying desperately to keep warm. 
“What business did Dolos have in town?” You asked, hoping that Marianne would be a bit more forthcoming with information. 
“Her name is Suadela,” Marianne stated, “He has business between her lithe limbs at least once a week.” 
“Oh.” Marianne stopped and turned to look at you, her emerald eyes utterly void of any emotion. Her voice, however, betrayed her. “I told you, Ambassador, there is no love between me and Dolos. There never was, and there never will be.” 
“But you wish there were. I can see it in the way you look at him and I hear it in your voice now.”
“What I wish for is for my husband to be High Lord.” There was an edge of finality in her tone and you knew that she was done talking about it. Why was she so determined to see Dolos become High Lord? Why wish for him to succeed when he was clearly hurting her, when she clearly wanted more from their marriage. “Tell me, what is going on between you and Eris?” 
Her question surprised you and you blinked at her in confusion before answering truthfully, “Nothing. There is nothing. He is cold and cruel and closed off. Most of the time he treats me as if I am little more than a rat that worked its way into the kitchen. There is a mutual dislike and distrust between us, but that is all.” 
“That is now what I’ve seen.” There was a frown on Marianne’s face and a disbelieving look in her eyes. 
“Don’t be absurd, Marianne. He calls me little moth on occasion to remind me that he thinks of me as nothing more than an invasive insect.” You wanted to laugh at the look on her face and the ridiculous notion she had suggested.
“Pyrrharctia isabella. The little moth.” Marianne smiled softly and you felt confused all over again when she said, “I think I know exactly what is going on between you and Eris.” 
Whereas you had been able to hold back your laughter, Marianne could not. Her laughter was surprisingly joyous and you realized you had never heard her laugh before. Not properly at least. She gave Dolos little giggles of amusement but this? This was her true self shining through and though you didn’t know what she was laughing at, her laughter was so warm and deep that you found yourself laughing with her. 
“I believe I may have been mistaken about you, Marianne,” you said as the pair of you caught your breath. She gave you an inquisitive look as if she was eager to ask what you meant, but then her eyes narrowed and she snapped her head towards the woods. “What is it?”
“Ambassador, when was the last time you saw Erlik or Phenex?” Your eyes widened and you followed her gaze to the nearby trees. They had been with you most of your walk, but you hadn’t seen them in nearly thirty minutes. You became aware quite suddenly of the feeling of being watched. Shit.
Erlik and Phenex were hunters at their cores and you knew that somehow you and Marianne had become their prey. One look at Marianne told you she was aware of the same. Every part of you was screaming for you to run, but you knew that the hunters would have set traps which made running risky. Marianne gripped your wrist then and began to tug you along with her as she ran back toward the palace, willing to take the risk. She was calm, focused, and fast. You struggled to keep pace with her, but she kept her hold on you and made sure you didn’t fall behind. Faster, you had to run faster if you wanted a chance of escaping Erlik and Phenex. 
You heard the arrow flying towards the both of you before you saw it. Instinct drove you, and you pulled Marianne out of the way with a shout of her name. The arrow missed her by mere centimeters and her emerald eyes widened in shock and fear. “Fuck. It’s ash!” she said, her voice trembling. She let out a sound of annoyance and frustration that masked the sound of the second arrow. Pain erupted through your abdomen and you nearly doubled over in agony. You tried to catch your footing as your balance started to waver and you stumbled closer to the edge of the cliff. 
Marianne jumped into action, her grip on your wrist tightening as she tried to pull you away from the ledge. You twisted your hand to grab her wrist in her return and stared at her eyes, watched as the emerald green darkened in determination. Something passed between the two of you then, some unspoken understanding. She nodded her head and tugged you toward her. The third arrow sliced through the howling winds with ease straight into Marianne’s back. Those green eyes widened and her grip on you slipped. She fell forward into you and you did your best to catch her, to stabilize her. With the added weight of her, and your wobbly footing, you lost your balance once more. 
“Shit, shit, shit!” you cussed as you tried desperately to stay on the cliff. The fourth arrow pierced your shoulder and you screamed in agony at the pain that flared through your veins. The force of it and the pain it had caused were enough to push you further back, to make you stumble and slip over the edge, to fall back toward the raging sea below with Marianne still in your arms. 
There was a shout of your name, you were certain of it. Eris. It sounded like Eris. For some reason that you couldn’t identify, you wished at that moment that you could have seen him one more time. 
The sound of the waves grew louder and you did what you could to brace yourself. The air left your body at the impact as you plummeted into the water. It was cold, too cold. If you didn’t drown, you’d freeze. You tried to swim to the surface, but with Marianne in your arms and the ash arrows in your body, it was a futile effort. The current pulled and pushed you and you knew it was only a matter of time before the waves slammed you against the rocks. In the haze, as you struggled to keep your eyes open, you could see a shadow. 
Something solid and hot, almost scalding, grabbed your waist and tugged you forward. There was something soft and warm on your lips and you could feel air being forced into your lungs. The water shifted, the temperature rising, quickly turning almost boiling. It was a sharp contrast to the frigid cold and you gasped, losing the air you had just been given. The pressure to your lips returned, and then the world went black. 
234 notes · View notes
danikamariewrites · 5 months
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Could you do ACOTAR men x reader headcanons where how they would react/ respond to reader shoving her cold hands up their shirts?
My hands and feet are always cold so I always have my hands in my pockets or in between my thighs. And I always have some hot hands packs in my jacket during the colder months.
As I am typing this, I’m waiting for my socks to finish warming up in the dryer so my feet are warm 😀
Always so Cold
ACOTAR Men x reader
A/n: I’m always cold too anon and this weather is killing me bc of my Raynaud’s. I hope your socks are nice and toasty babes 🥰
Also @redbleedingrose did one like this a while ago and I reread it all the time it's so good (along with literally everything else she writes) you can read it here
Warnings: none
Rhysand
He would be working when you come into his office and you’d innocently start rubbing his shoulders
Your hands go lower and lower until you shove your frozen fingers down his shirt
Rhys let out a small scream, “Why are your hands always freezing!?” You let out a giggle as you rub them against his chest trying to soak up his warmth
He pulls your hands out from his shirt, leading you to sit on his lap
Your shivering at this point from the loss of heat which does not go unnoticed by your mate
“My darling, you’re freezing come here.” You sit on his lap as Rhys pulls you into his chest. “A little.”
Rhys scoffs lifting you up going to sit by the fire. “Warm yet my love?” You pretend to think for a moment before shaking your head. “Nope. I think we should go to bed and snuggle.” Rhys lets out a laugh kissing your forehead. “That sounds like a great idea darling.”
Cassian
Cass is just minding is business making a snack in the kitchen when you sneak up behind him
You plaster your hands on the back of his neck and he drops what’s in his hands letting out a shocked sound
Cassian pulled away and turned to look at your silly smile
“Why!? And why are you always so gods damned cold?” You let out a loud laugh and move to shove your hands up his shirt
You hug him and keep your hands against his warm skin. Cassian hugs you, rubbing your back to warm you up. “Why don’t we go snuggle on the couch, I’ll make hot cocoa too.”
You let out a hum, “that sounds perfect.” Cass shoos you away so he can make your drinks and snack
Azriel
Az would know when you're sneaking up on him thanks to his shadows
He lets you get close but at the last second Azriel spins around and grabs your wrists. You let out a squeal of surprise as your mate pulls you into his chest
"You will not get me with those icicles you call hands again." He says laughing with you as you try to break free from Az's grip
"But Azzy! I'm cold and need you to warm me up." You give him a fake pout while trying to hold back your laughter
Az lets out an exaggerated sigh, "Fine. I guess we should go upstairs and get you bundled up." "Can I have your hoodie that I love?" "Of course you can." He says placing a soft kiss on your head
Lucien
Lu is so unbothered by your cold hands so he always lets you grab at him
He just raises his body temp more making it so you're suuper warm
He hates that you get so cold. While you make jokes about it he is genuinely concered becuase no one should be that cold all the time
When you do come up to him Lucien insists you snuggle on the couch
You lay on top of him and Lucien wraps you up in a blanet, using his powers to become your personal heater
Usually you end up falling asleep perfectly toasty
Eris
Eris just lets you put your hands up his shirt and your hands wander all over his torso
He just looks down at you with a fake annoyed look
You smile at him knowing that he's worried about you and your cold hands
He carefully removes your hands bringing them up to his mouth leaving soft kisses across the back of your hands
"Here my love." Eris whispered, encasing your hands in his, warming them with his powers
You lean into Eris to absorb more warmth
The lordling kisses the crown of your head lightly whsipering sweet nothings
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serpentandlily · 3 months
Text
Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny III
Tumblr media
Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Archeron!Reader
Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.
Warnings: none
a/n: hope you enjoy this one just as much as the others!
➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
Part III
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
“That was…weird,” Mor remarked.
You agreed. You had no idea what to make of Eris’s behavior. Feyre and Rhys seemed to be locked in a mental conversation, leaving the rest of you to silence. You rubbed at your arm, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. You didn’t want to create any problems for your sister but you also didn’t want to leave. 
“He had a point,” Rhys finally said before looking at you with those violet eyes that reminded you far too much of a certain pair of amber ones. They both held too many secrets. “But I don’t think Beron will prove to be much of a problem as long as we keep his focus on other things.”
Feyre nodded along. “Besides, what is Beron going to do about it, anyways? Short of killing us, there is nothing to be done.”
You felt a flicker of fear but pushed it down. Rhys was the most powerful High Lord. Surely he would defend you and your sister if it came down to it. Feyre was also powerful in her own right and could fight for herself but you…
“We won’t let any harm come to you,” Rhys promised, his voice softening. “And what did I say about keeping those mental shields up?”
You turned red and quickly slammed the gates to your mind closed. 
“I would like to stay,” you mumbled, sheepishly. “But I don’t want to cause problems.”
Mor waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. Eris talks out of his ass most of the time. He probably just wanted to put us on edge. You being here is not a problem, doll.” 
You didn’t feel comforted in the slightest.
“Well, if that's settled,” Rhys said, standing up. “I believe it is time for us to make our way towards the meeting room.”
You let out a breath, trying to settle your nerves from Eris’s display. Feyre gave you a small smile, linking her arm through yours. “Don’t look so nervous. There’s going to be some friendly faces in the crowd.”
You nodded, still feeling anxious about the whole thing. Although you hardly considered Vassa and Jurian your friends, at least you were familiar with them. Unfortunately, you were also familiar enough with Lord Nolan and his son.
Feyre placed her other hand in Rhys’s extended elbow and the two of them led you out of the chambers and into the wide corridor. Your breaths were still shaky once your group got to the staircase that would lead you to the meeting room with the reflection pool. 
Feyre unwrapped her arm from yours and Azriel stepped forward instead. 
“Azriel is going to escort you in,” she explained. “If you feel nervous, just stay by his side. Okay?”
You gave her a small nod and let them lead the way forward. When your group finally reached the top of the staircase, you were a bit relieved to see that the Autumn Court wasn’t present yet. Your eyes darted around the room, landing on all the various High Lords and their entourages, trying to place them in their respective courts. 
“That right there is Tarquin,” Azriel whispered from beside you, following your eyesight. “High Lord of Summer.” 
“And him?”
“Kallias, High Lord of Winter. His wife and mate, Vivianne, is the female next to him.” 
“Another High Lady?”
“Not quite,” Azriel answered. He inclined his head towards a different group. “That’s Helion, High Lord of the Day Court.” 
The male he nodded to was quickly approaching your group, a serpentine smile on his face. Gods, you were still not quite used to how beautiful the fae were. Helion looked like a God in his own right. His eyes passed over your group until they landed on you and lingered for a second longer. 
You watched as he greeted Feyre, Rhysand and Mor before turning his head towards you and Azriel. 
“Shadowsinger,” he nearly purred, “Always happy to see you.”
Azriel didn’t smile, didn’t move. In fact, he shot the High Lord an exasperated look as if this flirtatious behavior was all too common. That didn’t stop you from blushing when the High Lord looked at you and smiled coyly. 
“And who might you be?”
He reached out a hand but before you could open your mouth, the High Lord was suddenly knocked to the side, stumbling over himself. 
“My apologies, High Lord,” Eris sneered at Helion. “Perhaps you shouldn’t stand in the middle of a walkway.” 
Eris strode away before Helion could even respond, his brothers trailing after him, glaring around the room. Your jaw nearly dropped at his audacity but you quickly schooled your face, watching Helion glare at their backs. He seemed to shake off the encounter quickly, his charming persona snapping back into place as your sister came up on your side.
“Helion,” she said, “this is my sister, Y/n. She’s here to help us discuss the peace treaty with the humans.” 
Your introduction with Helion was short lived as Thesan called for the start of the meeting now that everyone was here. The first half of the meeting was just with the fae before the human leaders were to be brought in. Since you were primarily there for the humans, your thoughts drifted away as the fae leaders began their discussions. 
Your eyes trailed over all the courts—taking interest in how different each fae looked depending on where they came from. But your gaze kept falling on one fae in particular. The red headed male sat behind his daunting father. He hadn’t once looked in your direction. Part of you was glad for it, because it would be embarrassing to be caught blatantly staring at him as you were. Another part of you longed for him to look your way… You had no idea where that feeling came from. 
Eris was dressed far more formally than he had been the last two times you had seen him. He wore a dark green vest stitched with golden thread, tiny leaves embroidered along the seams, on top of a cream button up. A golden fox brooch was pinned at the neck of his collar, probably the Vanserra family’s emblem. His pants were an even darker green, almost appearing black and neatly tucked into his boots. Around his shoulders was a matching green cape coat embellished in gold detailing much like his vest. 
His red hair looked like a raging fire next to all the green, his pale skin glistening in the soft lighting of the room. He was so distractingly beautiful, even with that familiar haughty smirk on his face. It didn’t matter that there were far more powerful, commanding fae in the room. Your eyes could not keep off him. 
Like a moth to flame. 
Eris’s honey amber eyes finally met yours and you felt something snapped inside of you. You gasped as a golden thread unraveled within you and shot out across the room—all the way to the male seated across from you….all the way to Eris. 
Mate.
The word clanged through your head, drowning all other thoughts.
Mate.
Eris was your mate. 
In your shock, you missed the warning look Eris shot your way. You gasped, loudly, drawing the attention of the room as you stood so suddenly, your chair was knocked to the ground behind you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that golden thread thrumming with sparks of flame.
Your sister quickly rose from her seat, placing a hand on your upper arm to steady you. Azriel too had jumped up, his hand ghosting over Truth-teller, as if ready for whatever invisible threat was occuring.
Eris stood abruptly, almost panting. Your eyes never left those amber ones. Not even as they seemed to plead with you to sit, to hide, to disappear from this room entirely. 
“What’s wrong?” Feyre asked, her voice hurried and filled with concern. Her eyes followed your line of sight and darted back to you and down to the hand you held to your chest. 
Rhysand seemed to catch on to what was happening quicker. 
“Azriel, get her out of here,” he ordered the shadowsinger. 
A scarred hand wrapped around yours and a second later, you were engulfed in a wave of shadows.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
“Rhysand,” Thesan said, “Please answer for that display. What antics have occurred in your court to disrupt such a meeting?” 
Feyre’s hands were shaking as Rhysand latched onto them, guiding her back to her chair softly. “Apologies, Y/n is still a bit sensitive to magic since coming out of the cauldron. You’ll have to forgive her sudden departure.” 
“And here I thought you had moved on from your lying and deceiving ways, Rhysand,” Beron jumped in, his voice filled with wicked amusement. “It appears a congratulation is in order.” He turned to face his son. “It seems to me that a mating bond has just snapped into place.” 
Eris’s face was unreadable as he sat back down, fists clenched at his sides. 
“Explain yourselves,” Tarquin interjected, looking bemused. “How do you have another Made female in your court, Rhysand?”
“She is my sister,” Feyre declared. “And she was there the day Hybern forced all of them into the cauldron.”
“Why was she not included in the reports from that day?” Thesan asked, sitting up straighter.
“She was under our protection,” Rhysand answered. “She was hardly more than a child at the time.” 
“Liar. She never came out of the cauldron,” Tamlin said, sharply, eyes narrowing. “Your reports never included her because she never came out of the cauldron that day.”
“Well, considering you all just saw her alive and in person,” Rhysand shrugged, picking a piece of lint from his coat. “Obviously, she did. Perhaps your head was too far up Hybern’s ass to see.”
Tamlin growled but was cut off by Beron. 
“Where have you taken my son’s mate?” Beron demanded. 
“That is none of your concern.”
“Rhysand, you cannot possibly keep her away from her mate,” Thesan said. “He is entitled—”
“He is entitled to nothing,” Feyre snapped. “The Night Court does not force females to accept mating bonds. As she falls under our jurisdiction, she has our full protection against any of your antiquated beliefs.” 
“Leave it to the Night Court to spit on traditions,” Beron hissed. “A mating bond works both ways. As the other half falls under my jurisdiction, my son has all the right to invoke a blood duel if you wish to keep her from him.” 
The Lady of Autumn looked alarmed at her husband’s words but said nothing. Neither did Eris, who seemed to be choosing his next moves very carefully. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time the Night Court stole a female away,” Tamlin said, sarcastically, rolling his eyes. 
“Oh please, spare us from revisiting your despair,” Helion chuckled, humorlessly. 
“Have we all forgotten why we are here today?” Kallias cut in, his tone cold. “Must we argue over something that does not involve the rest of our courts? This meeting has already been derailed and some of us have better things to do with our time then listen to squabbles.” 
“This is not over, Rhysand,” Beron hissed. Eris still sat stoically behind his father, not faltering in the slightest. “You and I have much to discuss after we deal with the humans lest you wish to start a conflict between our courts.” 
“Fine,” Rhysand growled. “But prepare yourself and your son for disappointment.” 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
You paced in the sitting room in the River House, your heart still beating rapidly, your thoughts out of control. A mating bond. A godsdamn mating bond had snapped between you and Eris of all people. Eris, the male whose reputation followed him like darkened clouds. Eris, the male who had left Mor to die in the woods all those years ago. Eris, the Heir of Autumn, the son of one of the most ruthless fae in all of Prythian. 
Surely it was a mistake. It had to be. 
“Why don’t you sit down?” Elain suggested, gently, patting the cushion beside her on the couch. “Feyre will get it all sorted out. You needn’t worry so much.” 
“How can I not worry? How can I not worry when Eris of all people is my mate, Elain?” You rubbed at your chest, already feeling an emptiness there now that you had been separated from him. “This must be a mistake. A trick, perhaps?” 
“Perhaps,” Elain agreed, though she didn’t sound like she believed it for one second. “But there’s not much you can do about it now. Not until they return from the meeting.” 
You let out a long breath and plopped onto the couch next to her. Elain brushed a hand through your hair, guiding you to lay down on her lap. “It’ll be okay, Y/n. A mating bond isn’t the end of all things. Feyre would never let that male get his hands on you.” 
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Some part of you wanted that male. Not the Eris that the others saw. But the one you had seen in those secret moments between the two of you. The alluring fox behind the mask. 
Your heart sang for him now that the mating bond had snapped into place. He hadn’t seemed surprised in the slightest….like he had already known about it. Had it snapped for him? Had he known this whole time that you were his mate? Why wouldn’t he tell you? Maybe…
maybe he didn’t want you…
Hours went by. The whole night passed. You didn’t stray from the couch, neither did Elain. You appreciated your sister comforting you. You wished Nesta wasn’t on her mating vacation and was here to help you as well…maybe she would know what to do.
The door to the house opening had you sitting up, rubbing at your red rimmed eyes. Elain woke abruptly as well, wiping the drool that was dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Feyre, Rhysand and Mor strode in, all looking just as exhausted as you.
“Well, I’m glad that shitshow is over,” Mor said, falling on one of the settees dramatically. 
A second later, Amren and Azriel came into the room, both wearing unreadable expressions. Amren’s silver eyes studied you for a moment before moving to Feyre and Rhysand.
“How’d it go?”
“Awful,” Rhysand sighed. “No one could come to an agreement.”
“Did the humans not want to sign?” You asked, purposefully avoiding the other topic. 
Feyre shook her head. “No, they were…even less receptive than we thought they’d be.” 
“What happens now?” Elain asked.
“We go through that again and again, I suppose,” Rhys answered. “Until a peace treaty is signed.” 
The room fell into a heavy silence until you broke it, minutes later.
“And…and what of…” You trailed off, unable to say the words, unable to ask about the male that had been on your mind since you had been whisked away from the meeting. 
“Beron will be visiting the Court of Nightmares tomorrow,” Rhys said, hesitantly, gauging your emotions. “To discuss what is to be done. It is unfortunate that he knows about the bond now because there is little Eris can do as long as his father is in power.”
“He can finally kill the bastard,” Mor grumbled into a pillow. 
“We must tread carefully,” Amren said. “If Eris is forced to call for a blood duel against Rhysand, he will die and one of his brutish brothers will be next in line for the throne.” 
“What!” You exclaimed. “A blood duel? Would he…would he really do that? Fight Rhysand even if it means certain death?” 
Eris was powerful, sure. But he was still only an heir, not a full blown High Lord like Rhysand. He would be misted in seconds. Just that thought of it sent you into a panic.
“I’ll fight him in your place,” Azriel said, darkly, looking at Rhys but he shook his head.
“We cannot risk that,” Rhys said. 
“Do you really think Beron would have his own son fight and die in a blood duel?” Feyre asked. 
“Of course he would. One less person he has to keep off his throne,” Amren said.
“He’s a monster,” Elain whispered, staring at you with concern. 
“Yes, he is,” Rhys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So we must do as Amren said and tread very carefully.” 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
The next day, you stood in the foyer of the River House, dressed in a simple dark blue, silk dress. Your stomach was tossing and turning with nerves, scared of what would happen during this meeting with Beron. You hated that you were causing your sister and Rhysand so much stress, hated that you were in the middle of this conflict. 
You wished you could turn back time. Wished you could go back to that moment the mating bond snapped so you could hide the realization better. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve and it had finally bit you in the ass. 
You had no idea how today was going to play out.
You were certain of one thing, though. You ached to see Eris again. The mating bond had nearly kept you up all night. Feyre had tried teaching you how to block if off, but it was hard. Eris seemed to have no problem keeping his side of the bond locked down. It infuriated you to know he was probably feeling every single emotion from you. 
“Are you ready?” Rhys asked as Feyre, Mor and Azriel slid into view. 
Rhys and Feyre were dressed like they always were when making trips to Hewn City. Mor wore a scandalous red dress that clung to her beautiful curves and Azriel wore his Illyrian leathers, as per usual, all seven siphons on display. 
You nodded, unable to even speak.
The next hour seemed to happen while you were stuck in a daze. Rhys winnowed you all to Hewn City and led you into the throne room where everyone was waiting. Word must’ve spread quickly of what had occurred. Keir escorted Beron and Eris into the throne room after the formalities were done.
You couldn’t find the nerve to look at Eris now that you were in the same room. You had shown your hand during that meeting and had caused an avalanche to fall in its wake. You felt guilty, ashamed and scared…so scared. 
A dumb bunny, indeed. 
Rhys and Feyre led you all to a private meeting room, shutting the door in Keir’s face as he tried to join. You sat, hiding your shaking hands in your lap, keeping your eyes on the floor. 
“Well, I assume you have come to your senses by now,” Beron said, leaning back in his chair as if he commanded the room. “The girl comes with us. The Night Court owes Autumn a bride as it is.”
His glare focused on Mor for a moment and she scoffed in his direction. 
“Not so fast, Beron,” Rhysand tsked, pouring himself a glass of wine. “We don’t owe you anything. It was your court that ultimately broke the marriage agreement all those years ago.” 
Beron sat up with a sneer. “I believe it was broken the moment that girl decided to whore herself out to an Illyrian bastard of all people.”
You tensed in your seat, gripping the dress in your fists.
“Father, please,” Eris sighed, making you look up at him finally. 
Beron glanced at his son before turning back to Rhysand. “You should be overjoyed that we’re willing to take the girl as it is, considering the beasts in your court have probably ran through her already.”
“Watch your mouth,” Feyre snapped.
The smell of burning wood filled the room and Eris flexed his hands, new scorch marks on the table underneath them. “Don’t speak of her like that.”
Beron laughed. It was an awful sound. “Right, my apologies, son. Don’t worry, those mating instincts will go away once you’ve fucked her for a near century.”
Your face turned bright red at the crude words. Eris growled. The sound was so primitive, so animalistic. It sent chills down your spine. Even Beron looked unnerved for a moment.
“You are not winning yourself any favors,” Rhysand purred, smirking at the older male. “Have you any dignity?”
“Have you?” Beron bit back. “You all but spit on the face of the Mother by keeping her away from her mate. This is more of a blessing for you then it is us. A marriage alliance with Autumn, one you do not deserve that we are graciously offering.”
“Let me make myself clear, Beron, since you refuse to listen,” Rhysand snapped. “Our court has no laws that require a female to accept a bond. You would really go to war over something like this? While our courts are still recovering from the last one?”
Rhys and Feyre had theorized that Beron was so adamant about forcing you into the bond not because he cared for his son, but for two other reasons. One, you were Made. They had all seen how powerful Nesta was because of it and Beron craved power above all else.
Two, it was another way to keep Eris in check. To dangle you over his head as a threat. 
“Perhaps we should ask what she wants,” Mor interjected.
“What she wants does not matter,” Beron snarled. “She is mated to an Autumn male, by our laws she must accept.”
“She is a resident of our court,” Feyre argued back. “She does not have to accept it.”
“Then you leave us no choice,” Beron said, rising from his seat. He planted his palms on the table, staring at you all of a sudden. You crumbled into yourself. “Is that what you want, girl? You want us to declare a blood duel against your family?”
You shook your head as Rhysand stood, slamming his own hands on the table. “You would have your son fight in a blood duel against me, a High Lord?”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be against you,” Beron laughed, cruelly. His eyes fell on Feyre. “And it wouldn’t be my son. I will demand a blood duel against your mate. A mate for a mate. Very fitting, don’t you agree?”
Feyre versus Beron…. That bastard had planned this. You’d all been so concerned with Eris declaring a blood duel you didn’t even realize this would be a way Beron could kill Feyre as he wished in a legal way—as barbaric as it was.
And most of the other courts held the mating bond in such regard, you wondered if you’d find any allies against him for doing this beside Helion. 
Rhysand growled, darkness leaking off of him,
“And I will just fight you in her place.”
Beron smiled. “Oh, but you see, you can’t. Once a blood duel has been declared you either surrender to the terms or fight. I don’t know where you got your information from but there are no place holders allowed.” 
Your heart was racing in your chest. 
Silence fell so heavy in the room your ears were ringing. All of this was all your fault. You felt tears line your eyes. You couldn’t let Feyre fight for you. You wouldn’t. Even though she could probably hold her own against him, he was ages older than her—more battle worn. She’d be at a huge disadvantage.
And Eris couldn’t do anything about this, not if it was his father who wished to fight a blood duel. He couldn’t order his father not to. 
You couldn’t let her do this. You owed your life to her, you owed everything to her. It was time to start fighting your own battles. 
“I’ll go,” you whispered, so quietly you wondered if you had even said the words out loud. “I’ll go.”
Feyre’s head whipped to you. “No, absolutely not.”
But you shook your head. “I do not want anyone fighting on my behalf. I will go with them.”
Beron’s grin grew into one that could rival the devil himself.
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
“We will find a way out of this,” Feyre whispered into your ear as she hugged you. “I promise. Just hold out for us, okay? We’ll get you out of there.”
You nodded, pulling away to brush the tears off her cheek. You weren’t even going to be able to say goodbye to Elain and Nesta. Beron was demanding that you leave right away. 
“I’ll be okay, Fey,” you murmured to her. 
“Enough of the dramatics,” Beron called out. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Eris didn’t look at you as he held out a hand. You swallowed audibly and walked to his side, grasping it softly. You spared one last glance at your sister before you were winnowed out of Hewn City and into the den of foxes.
“Come here, girl,” Beron barked, now standing before his throne. “Let me get a look at you.”
You glanced at Eris but he just stood there, stoically, not meeting your gaze. You walked towards Beron, trying not to shake in fear. 
The older male grasped your chin in his hand, turning your face from side to side as he examined you. Eris’s other brothers stood at the bottom of the dais, their wolfish grins doing little to make you less nervous. The Lady of Autumn was seated in a small chair to the side of the throne, her eyes not lifting from the floor. 
“You look just like my other son’s mate,” he remarked. “Smaller, though. The runt of the family, I’m assuming. Pity. Were you not fed properly as a child?” 
You weren’t even sure how to reply to that. You decided not to respond and Beron’s eyes narrowed. 
“Hmm,” he mused, finally letting go of you. “Have you sullied yourself with those beasts?” 
“Father,” Eris growled, stepping up next to you. “That is enough.” 
Beron chuckled, mirthlessly, waving a dismissive hand. “Fine, take her away and get her out of those whorish clothes.”
Eris grabbed you by your upper arm and dragged you out of the throne room. You had to walk quickly, trying to keep up with his long legs as he led you down corridor after corridor. The Forest House was magnificent, beautiful. It was a shame that someone like Beron ran this court, you thought, as you studied the place. 
Eris finally stopped in front of a room, yanking the door open and pushing you inside. You glared at him as he slammed the door shut behind him, crossing your arms. You were inside of a huge suite, it seemed. A lavish sitting room, with two doors on either side, likely leading to a bedroom and bathing chamber. 
“These are my quarters,” Eris explained as he shrugged off his cape coat and tossed it on the red, velvet couch. He began to unbutton his vest as he faced you. “You are to stay here. Do not leave without an escort. Tomorrow, I will assign you two handmaidens to help you.” 
Your eyes widened. “I’m…I’m meant to stay here…in your room?” 
Eris let out a long sigh. “It is the safest place for you and I do not want to risk rumors.” 
“B-but surely this is improper,” you stuttered. “We are not properly mated.” 
Eris let out a cruel laugh. “We wouldn’t be in this situation if you hadn’t made such a spectacle at the High Lords’ meeting so don’t start complaining to me.” 
You felt a flare of anger. 
“You knew,” you grumbled. “You knew about the mating bond between us and you didn’t tell me! Perhaps if you had told me, I wouldn’t have even been in that room! I would’ve stayed home.” 
“Unlikely,” Eris sneered, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from a decanter on a bar cart behind the couch. He chugged the drink down, loosening his collar with his other hand. “You don’t seem to have a lot going on in that pretty little head of yours, bunny. Did you ever stop to think about why I might be hiding it?”
“You are such a prick,” you snapped. “I am not one of your little pawns. I am not a part of your stupid games! You should have told me!”
You went to whirl around but Eris grabbed your wrist, dragging you closer to him. You glared up at him, ignoring the way his heat enveloped you in its embrace. 
“This is not a game to me,” Eris growled. “Have you any idea what you’ve cost me? Have you any idea what he will do to you if I so much as take a single step out of line now?”
You yanked your wrist out of his grip. “Have you any idea what this has cost me? I’m the one who's been forced out of my home—forced to come here!” 
“And who’s fault is that?” 
Eris slammed the empty glass down on the cart. 
“Gods, sorry I couldn’t read your oh-so-clever mind! Sorry I couldn’t act like an emotionless shell of a person like you!” 
“Watch how you speak to me,” Eris snarled. “I can make your life here a living hell, bunny.”
“I’m not scared of you, Eris,” you snapped. “You don’t fool me. I see the real you under that mask and you know what I think—I think it is you who is scared.”
Eris ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You know nothing. Do you understand? Nothing.”
“Then tell me! Tell me so I can help you! I know you do not wish to see your father in power much longer. Let me help!”
Eris grabbed your chin in his hand, forcing you to look up at him. You hated how cold his amber eyes looked.
“No. Absolutely not. I will not involve you in the slightest,” he snarled before his eyes softened and his hand slipped to cup your cheek instead. “I cannot…I cannot bear to see this place make you cruel. Stay here, where you’ll be safe, bunny. Leave everything else to me. You were not made for this place. But me…You have no idea what kind of monster I can be.”
Eris’s hand dropped back to his side and he stepped away from you, heading towards the door. You were breathing so heavily, your lungs constricting your ribs against the dress you wore. 
“Can we talk about this? Please!”
He said nothing, reaching for the handle of the door. 
“Eris, please!”
His hand fell against the doorframe, flame licking at the wood—scorching it again. A growl rumbled through his chest and his head hung between his shoulders but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look at you.
“Do not,” he groaned. “Do not say my name like that.” 
And then he was gone, leaving you completely alone. 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
When you woke up later that night, you found yourself in an unfamiliar room. You sat up, realizing you were laying in a bed. You were certain you had fallen asleep on the couch, not wanting to even go into Eris’s bedroom.
The silk, dark orange sheets next to you were undisturbed. You rubbed at your eyes, getting up from under the covers. You were still in the dress you had fallen asleep in.
You padded over to the door, opening it slowly. You took two steps into the sitting room before you froze in your spot. 
There, on the couch, was Eris. The fireplace was roaring in front of him as he slept, a lump on the floor by his feet. You blinked away the blurriness in your eyes to see what it was.
Ashera was curled up there, the dog you had met that day you had accidentally winnowed into the forest here. She slept soundly on the floor next to him. 
You stepped back into the bedroom and closed the door behind you, quietly, not wanting to disturb them. 
· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·
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thehighladywrites · 3 months
Text
“TWITTER VISUAL LINKS” - acotar characters
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warnings: nsfw, sex, toys, straight up porn tbh
summary: down right nasty visual links with your favs👀
do you have trouble seeing the posts? - in order to see the links, you have to have an account on X, former twitter, and remove safe search:
amara’s note: don’t mind me, just sharing some visuals with my favs
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ᯓ★ RHYSAND
⟢ getting stretched out on his thick cock !
⟢ mutual masturbation, handjob + fingering !
⟢ rhys putting his angel mate in a mating press !
⟢ rhys taking his time, eating you out !
⟢ rhys giving you a creampie !
⟢ afternath of said creampie !
⟢ laying on top of rhys while he fingers you !
⟢ showing rhys your newest lingerie set !
ᯓ★ CASSIAN
⟢ fucking yourself on cassian’s cock !
⟢ cassian fucking his sweetheart sideways !
⟢ struggling to take cassian’s massive cock !
⟢ getting deepstroked by him !
⟢ cassian having your legs spread, playing with your pussy !
⟢ daddy cassian holding hands and rewarding you !
⟢ topping cassian and riding hard !
⟢ cassian’s pov of fucking you in missionary !
⟢ feral cassian can’t get enough of his girl’s tits !
ᯓ★ AZRIEL
⟢ getting pounded from behind !
⟢ sitting on his dick and riding !
⟢ riding azriel’s face !
⟢ azriel absolutely destroying your back !
⟢ hair pulling + doggy style with azriel !
⟢ temperature play with azriel !
⟢ modern az fucking you in the backseat of his car !
⟢ azriel sucking on your tits !
⟢ daddy plays with your pussy !
ᯓ★ ERIS VANSERRA
⟢ bending you over and giving your pussy slaps as punishment !
⟢ holding you bridal style and fucking you mid-air !
⟢ sitting in his lap while he rubs your clit !
⟢ eris sucking on his girl’s nipples !
⟢ being obsessed with eris’s fingers and developing an oral fixation !
⟢ handcuffed and rawdogged by him !
⟢ eris eating you out !
⟢ your little brain goes crazy bc of overstimulation !
ᯓ★ LUCIEN VANSERRA
⟢ lucien showing you his headgame !
⟢ 69’ing with his mate !
⟢ getting your tits sucked while riding him in the morning !
⟢ softly making out mid sex !
⟢ giving lucien a blowjob !
⟢ getting punished with ass slaps !
⟢ lucien fucking your boobs and cumming all over them !
⟢ riding + nipple play !
ᯓ★ FEYRE ARCHERON
⟢ french kissing feyre !
⟢ getting your clit sucked and licked by her !
⟢ eating her out while fingering !
⟢ getting topped by touchy feyre !
⟢ teasing you through your panties !
⟢ feyre’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as you rub her g spot !
⟢ feyre using a paint brush to stroke your clit !
⟢ sitting in feyre’s lap and makin out !
⟢ tounge play with feyre !
ᯓ★ ELAIN ARCHERON
⟢ sharing a double ended dildo with her !
⟢ nipple play with her sweet girl !
⟢ distracted when baking a cake !
⟢ having an obsession with elain’s tits !
⟢ bouncing on elain’s strap !
⟢ sitting on top of her and making out !
⟢ morning kisses with elain !
⟢ scissoring session !
ᯓ★ NESTA ARCHERON
⟢ dom mommy nesta using a wand on you !
⟢ going dumb on her strap !
⟢ nesta puts her hand down your skirt !
⟢ creaming on her fingers !
⟢ getting your pussy licked by her !
⟢ “put it in my ass please” trying anal fingering with her !
⟢ riding nesta’s strap !
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