#rhys/reader
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💜 starshine pt. VI 💜
Rhys x Reader
part I part II part III part IV part V part VI
summary: when after more than a century, things finally begin falling into place.
notes: I can't believe how long this took - both writing this next part and the actual things happening *facepalms*. and these twoooo 😭💕. I can't. they make me feel so mushy and happy and all giddy and warm. and all of you, loving this so much, make me feel even more mushy and happy and giddy, so thank you so much for staying with me on this!! if everything goes to plan, this is actually the second to last chapter, and we are, finally, getting somewhere ;)
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With a sharp inhale, my eyes snapped open, and my breath staggered.
The sheets were clinging to my skin, damp with cold sweat, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs as blood rushed through my ears and my gaze darted over a high, dark ceiling and for a second, panic and a dull pain rose in my chest, my body frozen still.
Then I realised that a weight was resting over my stomach and a scent was flooding my senses, so achingly familiar, my muscles melted.
Quickly, I turned my head, and my lungs squeezed.
In the silvery light of the moon shining through the windows, I could see Rhys' dark shape stretched out on the mattress next to me, the dips and planes of his muscular back rising and falling slowly with his even breaths. His head was resting on the pillow next to me, his face turned my way, brows smoothed over and eyes closed, his dark hair unruly and tousled, swirls of darkness stretching over his broad shoulders and down the arm that was loosely resting over my waist, his skin radiating warmth through my thin nightgown.
My heart soared before free falling, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, fighting against the echoes of screams and laughter in my ears, the feeling of cruel darkness and bound magic and hands slipping away into nothingness.
Suddenly, the air felt too stiffled, too stale, too reminiscent of the nightmare that had been reality.
Hastily, I slid out from under Rhys' arm, pushing the covers to the side and slipping off the mattress, my feet quick on the cool floorboards as I darted over to the huge windows soundlessly, tearing at them until they were open and a soft, cool breeze brushed over my skin.
My heart squeezed tightly, and I breathed in, quick and deep, the scent of sweet petals and night leaving an ache growing in my chest as my gaze darted over the garden below that was bathed in starlight, flowers glowing and faeries floating over the water reflecting the galaxies above.
My fingers curled around the window handle before loosening, and something in my chest quivered when I let my forehead sink against the cool wooden frame and squeezed my eyes shut.
I could still feel the heavyness on my chest, the ache pulsing under my ribs as images flashed before my eyes, and something closed around my throat.
Sliding my hand off the window, I looked over my shoulder towards the bed, and the ache in my chest soared at the dark shape still motionless on the mattress, breathing evenly.
Fighting against the sudden pressure in my throat, I moved, quickly slipping past the bed and out of the room.
The house was silent as I hastened soundlessly down the stairs, my long sleek nightgown swishing around my ankles as I slipped past the table and opened one of the big windows leading out onto the terrace. The gentle night breeze whispered over my bare arms and shoulders, and I squeezed out into the night, the stone of the terrace cold under my feet as I moved down the steps before it was replaced by cool, soft grass.
Faeries were swishing through the glowing flowers, darting towards me and showering me in golden dust, tittering softly and curiously before whizzing away again.
Slowly, my steps calmed, and I closed my eyes, breathing in the fresh air, feeling flowers and high grass brush my hands, warmth slowly spreading through me that seemed to stem from the earth itself.
Next to the pond that reflected the galaxies twinkling over the mountains, I let myself plop down into the soft grass, stretching out and staring up into the sky. My palms pressed against the earth, and I closed my eyes, focusing on the soft hum of energy that slowly travelled through me, golden light lazily flooding through my veines until my chest squeezed and my breath shuddered.
My heart tipped over; I opened my eyes, and movement at the edge of my field of vision made me turn my head.
Something rose and pulsed gently under my ribs when I saw the dark figure standing on the terrace.
Even from a distance, I caught the moment violet eyes clocked me by the pond, bare shoulders sinking a little, swishes of darkness whispering into nothingness as Rhys' gaze pierced mine. Then he moved, beginning to slowly walk down the steps.
Resting my cheek on the grass, I watched as he came towards me, movements smooth and elegant, his tousled hair black like ink in the night, violet eyes reflecting the silver and purple above. His pants were sitting low on his hips, and something twisted in my stomach at the sight of shifting muscles disappearing into black fabric.
The silk of his pants swished against my skin when Rhys crouched down and let himself plop down onto the ground next to me. Then his shoulder brushed against mine and he stretched out on the grass, one of his hands sliding up to rest on his stomach. His body dwarfed mine even shoulder to shoulder, my feet barely level with his shins, and I stared at the side of his face as his gaze dragged slowly over the night sky above, something dipping and swerving, squeezing and fluttering in my chest as my eyes flickered over his nose and lips, the sharp line of his jaw and cheekbones, and suddenly, my breath hitched in my throat.
“What happened?”
Rhys' quiet voice, deep and a little raspy with sleep, tore me out of the pulsing feeling under my ribs, and when I blinked, he turned his head to look at me.
I tried to swallow against the flutter in my throat, the ache in my chest that staring at him had awakened. Rhys seemed to misinterpret my silence, one corner of his lips tipping up gently as his gaze slowly moved over my face.
“As far as I know, you don't usually wake up in the middle of the night to lay around on the cold ground.” There was a soft twinkle in his eyes, but it couldn't hide the barely there crease between his brows, and something dipped in my chest when my shoulder brushed his and I felt a clenching sensation in my chest that wasn´t mine.
I blinked again, and the soft ache under my ribs pulsed.
“I had a dream.”
Rhys' gaze moved over my face. Then his quiet voice vibrated through me, gentle and even.
“What kind of dream?”
Something closed around my throat like an iron fist, and I stared at him, feeling a weight settle on my chest and pressure rise in my throat and eyes.
“The mountain,”, I whispered.
Rhys blinked, and I could see the muscles in his shoulder shifting, growing still.
“It used to be worse.” I tried a lopsided smile, but it felt weak, and a little uneven. “But it still comes back, once in a while.”
Rhys stared at me. Then he mumbled softly: “What do you dream of?”
Something started skipping painfully under my ribs.
“I see the faeries.” My whispered words were barely audible as my gaze dragged over Rhys' face, trying to ingrain every angle into my memory as pressure began to rise in my throat. “Caught and chained, tortured and mutilated in the revel. And I can't help them. I'm caught in the crowd, and I try to move, but no matter how much I fight, it's like I'm watching from outside my own body. And their pain breaks me apart.” My voice was weak, the images rising in front of my eyes causing the ache in my chest to grow.
“And then I see you.” My whisper broke as the pressure in my throat became unbearable, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Rhys' face, even as my vision blurred and my lips quivered.
“And she's torturing you, and I can't move. I can't get to you. And I try to tell you, scream at you that I'll get you out, but I can't speak.” My breath trembled as the ache in my chest spread, taking over every inch of my body until my voice broke and I felt something hot run over my cheek.
“And then I wake up, and I'm alone. Seeing you, finding you, was all a dream. And I can't feel you.” I inhaled quickly, hotly, my chin trembling. “You're gone.”
Through blurry eyes, I saw Rhys stare at me, still, frozen. Then a muscle in his cheek shifted, and he rolled onto his side; his warm, calloused hand slipped up my neck to cradle the side of my face, and Rhys leaned down to press his forehead against mine.
“I'm here.” His deep, husky voice travelled through me, vibrating with sorrow yet so steady and firm, my breath shuddered.
My eyes squeezed shut as the ache in my chest rose and overwhelmed me, and I twisted, wrapping my arms around Rhys' shoulders, clinging to him as I buried my face in the crook of his neck and felt hot tears roll over my cheeks, the ache in my chest pulsing.
“Look at you,”, Rhys mumbled hoarsely, his hands sliding over my waist as he slipped his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his chest. “Really thinking it'd be that easy to get rid of me.”
A wet laugh bubbled in my chest.
“Wouldn't it?”
“No.” Rhys' mumble was steady, if only a little rough when he dropped his nose into the crook of my neck, causing a gentle shiver to travel over my spine. “You know I'm too much of a selfish bastard for that.”
I inhaled shudderingly, feeling my lips rise weakly as I whispered into his skin: “No, you're not.”
“I am.” A calloused hand slid up over my back, the arm around my waist pulling me in tighter as Rhys curled around me and buried his nose at my shoulder, his low voice vibrating through me as he mumbled steadily: “Even if my soul was dragged from this world, I would still claw my way back to you.”
Something rose in my chest, wild and violent, and my eyes opened, a curtain of tears leaving the world blurry as Rhys' quiet voice washed through me.
“No one will ever keep me from you, take me away from you again. Wherever I go, it'll only be with you.”
My heart soared before giving out, and I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders, feeling my leg slide over his waist as his tall body curved around mine.
“Sounds impractical,”, I whispered thickly, my breath hitching and causing my voice to break a little.
Rhys' lips curved against my skin.
“We'll make it work.” His quiet words vibrated through me, steady and soft. “I'll just have to follow you like I always have.”
My chest tightened harsly as warmth pulsed through me, and I whispered, soft and weak: “What if I go somewhere you can't follow?”
Rhys slid his arms closer around me, burying his nose against my skin as he mumbled back hoarsely: “There's no place in this world, or beyond, that you could go where I wouldn't follow.” I could feel him swallow, then he added softly: “I'll always find a way to you.”
My heart tightened as my breath caught in my throat, and I clung tighter to him, feeling his body shielding mine as I curled into his chest and turned my head to bury my face in his neck, squeezing my eyes shut, my body shuddering with my exhale and the weight of tears pressing on my throat.
“Why?” The whispered words were trembling, thick, spilling past my lips before I could stop them, fueled by the ache rising under my ribs. But Rhys just swallowed, his deep voice soft in a hoarse mumble.
“You know why.”
My heart twisted and rose, higher and higher. My breath caught in my throat, and my lips quivered as I hastily burrowed my face in his neck and tried to breathe against the ache pulsing under my ribs.
The breeze whispered through the trees, faeries floating over the pond as the stars twinkled in the sky. Rhys held me until my lids were heavy, tears dried on my cheeks, my heart thrumming steadily against my ribs. Then he gathered me in his arms and moved to stand.
Something rose under my ribs, and when I pulled back just a little, my arms still slung around his neck, Rhys dropped his forehead against mine, his breath fanning over my skin as he turned.
My heart swelled in a flutter, and I clung to him, his arms holding me steady as Rhys started to walk back towards the house. I curled my arms around his shoulders and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling warmth pulse through me, strong, steady, Rhys' nose brushing my cheek when he pressed his forehead against my temple, carrying me up the stairs.
☆
I woke with the gentle morning breeze brushing over my skin, the scent of daybreak dew and fresh air filling my lungs, and my body buried in a warm chest, with the heavy weight of arms slung around me tightly and a scent in my nose that, even in the haze of sleep, made something tumble under my ribs.
My breath hitched softly, and I opened my eyes. My gaze focused on sunkissed golden skin and dark twisting tattoos over strong collarbones, and a muscled arm cushioning my head.
My heart toppled, and something in my stomach dipped.
You know why.
Rhys' hoarse voice echoed through my head, and suddenly, the flutter in my chest grew until there was a soft ache pulsing under my ribs.
Feeling a weight on my throat, I turned, sliding out of Rhys' arms as carefully as possible. My heart was thrumming against my ribs when I slipped out of the room, and trying to fight against the chaotic whirlwind in my head and chest, I moved down the stairs.
Golden morning light filtered through the windows facing the front garden, painting patterns onto the carpet and the books filling the shelves. I dragged open the window doors leading out onto to the terrace, breathing in deeply as my gaze moved over the garden dipped in the first golden sunrays, fairies whizzing through the air, carrying dew drops, giggling and tittering, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs.
Filling the kettle and putting it onto the stove, I pulled a pot from the cabinet, and a cup. Then, my hands no longer busy, I slowly turned, leaning back against the counter as my fingers flew over the cold marble, up to the ends of my hair before settling for fiddling with the thin strap of my nightgown as I stared into the garden, my heart pounding in my chest.
You know why.
Something in my stomach tumbled.
I did.
I had for a while, had felt the thought looming, bright and powerful somewhere under the surface. The beginnings of a realization, a vague shape, like an unspoken thought, a distant knowledge that I refused to grasp.
Because acknowledging it, just thinking it out loud would mean something so big, so terrifying it made something squeeze in my chest.
An explanation as to why Rhys had kept coming back to me. For the way he stared at me, the twinkle in those violet eyes, for that rising feeling in my chest I couldn't place and that radiated from him, for the closeness, the touching, the blatant flirting and the things he said, casually, easily, so so sure.
It made something rise in my chest.
There was something, a reason, a realization, just under the surface. And it terrified me.
Because what if I was wrong?
What if what Rhys was supposedly feeling was just fleeting, or not at all what I made it out to be?
What if what I was seeing was what I wanted to see – and not what was really there?
Something closed tightly around my chest as the flutter in my chest rose, soared higher and higher.
It would mean a broken heart.
My breath shuddered, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
Gods, I'd been an idiot. Not realising, maybe refusing to see how my soul reacted to the male with the stars in his eyes, how my whole being seemed to respond to him.
I had fallen. Maybe slowly over the span of a century, maybe with a crash the first time I'd met him and felt him behind those walls.
Something squeezed under my ribs. It twisted before rippling away soundlessly, and a trembling breath left me as I opened my eyes and stared out into the garden, wide-eyed and utterly terrified.
I loved him.
Maybe, it had always been there, lurking under the surface, in the way my breath seemed to hitch whenever I stared at him and he smiled.
I loved him. Was in love with him. So fiercely, so deeply, so all-consuming that it made my chest thrum, caused my heart to twist and soar, until the feeling filled my body. Slowly, creepingly, it had taken up every part of my soul and my being. Had made him a part of me, his pain, his anger, his sorrow, his happiness, all mine in a way nothing had ever been before. Had made him beginning and end and everything in between.
I loved Rhys.
“Shit,”, I whispered softly.
There was a low, deep chuckle behind me; and I jumped and whirled around.
Rhys crunched his brows against the light, purple eyes tired and twinkling, his voice, rough with sleep, vibrating through me when he mumbled with a smirk: “Ouch. Not usually the way I'm greeted.”
My fingers dug into the counter as I stared at him in shock, trying to breathe, my eyes wide and my heart pounding against my ribs. There was a pillow crease on his cheek, which I hadn´t thought physically possible, his hair was tousled and muscles were shifting under his bare skin as he moved past the table and rubbed his eyes.
Suddenly, heat was washing over me, and I tried to tear my gaze away, pull myself together. But my body refused to listen, stayed frozen in the spot as I stared at him wide-eyed, my breath hitching harshly, and Rhys slowed to a stop. His gaze flickered over my face, and a soft crease formed between his brows.
“Darling?”
Maybe my shields had never been any good, and he'd been able to sneak past them all this time. Or maybe, the feelings whirling in my chest, the chaos and panic in my mind, were simply too loud, too strong, bursting through me, echoing outwards at a volume that meant he didn't even need to be in my mind to hear them.
Either way, Rhys stilled. Became frozen in the spot as he stared at me. Then his eyes shifted.
Turned swirling and bright like the galaxies in the night sky as the crease between his brows melted away into nothingness and he exhaled like he'd been waiting for a century.
“All this time.” His soft voice was hoarse as his gaze dragged over my face, slightly feverish, drinking me in. “And you still didn't see.”
My heart dropped and I could feel my lips part – then something in my chest shifted, and soundlessly, a wall crumbled.
A barrier of the mind, built around the male a few feet away, slowly collapsing into itself.
My heart caught in my throat, and my eyes darted up and widened as something in my chest rose.
I could feel everything.
Emotions so strong, they took my breath. Twined together so firmly, they were barely discernable, desperation, adoration, want, need, twisting together into something hot and rising, growing into something all consuming.
I'd always felt Rhys, but never like this; had never felt his emotions, so deep and powerful and clear that they turned my doubts and fears to stardust, the ache in my chest blowing away into the sky, until my breath shuddered and my heart settled.
I inhaled softly, feeling my lips part as the emotions that weren't my own pulsed in my chest, steady, firm, unrestrained. Then I raised my head, and Rhys swallowed, his iris a night sky as his gaze dragged over mine, deep and feverish and swallowing me whole as he mumbled hoarsely: “There it is.”
A soft, breathy giggle bubbled in my throat as I stared at him, feeling pressure building in my throat and a flutter rising in my chest, growing with every second.
My fingers shook a little as I took a hesitant step forward, followed by another, and another, my eyes darting over Rhys' face, my heart swelling. He had grown completely still, like the smallest move could scare me away, like there wasn't something pounding against my ribs and swelling in my throat, causing tears to rise into my eyes as I lifted a hand and placed my palm on his chest.
The feeling of Rhys´ warm skin sent a shiver down my skin, just like the quick, racing beat of his heart as I stared up at him, feeling my bottom lip wobble a little even as I started to smile, slow and beaming. Then I opened myself and the whirlwind under my ribs.
Rhys' eyes widened.
A shuddering breath ran through him, and his hand flew up to cover mine, fingers curling around mine, holding on almost desperately, like he was afraid I'd pull away, break the thrum of emotion flooding through me into his body. Then a soft sound broke from his chest, and Rhys moved, forward and forward until my arm was trapped between us and the whole of his body pressed against mine, his free hand sliding up to cradle my face, and my heart caught in my throat when he dropped his head to press his forehead against mine.
The flutter in my chest rose, and I quickly squeezed my eyes shut and breathed out shakingly.
Rhys made a soft, hoarse sound deep in his throat, his hand slipping down the side of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair as he pressed closer, and my heart shuddered. I could feel his body towering over mine, the way the muscles in his biceps shifted when his fingers slid closer around my hand, his warm chest pressing against mine -
Heat twinged low in my stomach, and my fingers curled against his chest.
A gentle shudder ran over Rhys' warm skin, and my breath hitched when he dipped his head to the side, his nose brushing against mine.
My heart rose into my throat, and I swallowed, my hand uncurling slowly as I slid my palm down his chest. I could feel his muscles tensing under my touch as a shiver ran over his skin, his fingers twisting into my hair, and a tingle travelled down my spine when Rhys slowly nudged his nose against mine.
Something dropped very low in my stomach, heat rising up my body.
I swallowed, my free hand rising to cling to Rhys' side, and when I pulled my head back a little, just enough to look at him, his breath grazing my skin, my heart rose.
Rhys' eyes were glazed over with a heat that made something twist in my stomach. His iris was hazy and a few shades darker under heavy lids, a muscle in his jaw shifting and throat working, and his gaze was molten where it was glued to my lips.
My breath caught in my throat.
Even when Rhys had stared for too long before, something heated in his eyes, it had always been brimming under the surface, never quite so obvious.
Now, nothing was hidden. His breath was uneven, his lips parted and throat working, and his eyes, heavy lidded and dark, were swirling, feverish, wanting -
Rhys' fingers curled into my hair, and my body shuddered, something whirling and rising under my ribs as I dug my fingers into his skin and raised my chin without having control over it, Rhys' hot breath grazing over my skin when my nose nudged against his.
A deep sound rose in Rhys' chest, his eyes shifting into something even deeper and darker, and his hand slid into my hair when he dipped his head, his nose brushing against the side of mine, tantalizingly slow. Something clenched harshly in my stomach when I felt his hot breath grazing my lips, and a tingling shiver ran down my spine when I sank back down onto my heels and Rhys followed me, calloused hands pulling me closer and head dipping to -
"Hello?", a melodious, happy voice chirped from the terrace, and my heart jumped; my eyes flew open as I lightly pushed at Rhys' chest and whirled around, and Mor walked through the open window doors.
"Anyone he-", her gaze met mine, and she slowed to a stop, one corner of her lips quirking cheekily.
"Am I interrupting?"
My heart missed a beat, and I hastily looked back over my shoulder, only to find Rhys' eyes on me like maybe, they had never left. There was a twinkle slowly spreading through his iris, and my heart rose in a flutter, because something had changed, obviously, something in that thrum against my ribs, and yet -
I narrowed my eyes in a soft glower, and Rhys slowly started to smile, lazy and brilliant.
"What are you doing here, Morrigan?" His deep voice rumbled through me even with him a foot away, his twinkling eyes never leaving my face.
Mor crunched her brows, seemingly completely unbothered as she turned in a circle with a flourish.
"Well, you hadn't even told us this place existed until yesterday, and -", she looked over her shoulder, smiling brightly, "I was curious." Her twinkling amber eyes found mine, and her smile softened, though the light in her eyes seemed to brighten. "It's beautiful."
Something rose under my chest as my gaze flickered towards the garden without me being able to help it, my breath catching in my throat. "It is."
I could feel the weight of eyes on me, a tingle travelling over the side of my face, and I blinked, clearing my throat and grinning sheepishly at Mor. "Sorry, didn't really expect anyone -"
"Obviously." Mor's lips twitched into a smirk as her eyes moved from Rhys, lounging against the counter in only pyjama pants and staring at me, towards my long nightgown, and I winced and quickly crossed my bare arms in front of my chest, feeling heat rising in my cheeks as I crunched my nose.
"You want some tea?"
"You know, actually,", Mor turned fully towards me and raised her brows, "I also came here because I thought it could be fun if I showed you the city today?" Her lips twitched, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Have some one on one time, if Rhys isn't too bothered by that." She winked at me.
"Why would I be bothered?" Rhys' eyes stayed on my face, one corner of his lips curving upwards.
"Well, you did keep her from us for more than a century, without telling us about her even once; which, by the way, is ridiculous." Mor's lips curved. "It's almost like you were afraid we'd steal her away from you or something -"
"Can we get breakfast?", I quickly interrupted, because Rhys' eyes had started to twinkle in a way that made shivers dance down my spine and something twitch in my stomach.
Mor turned her gaze away from Rhys, her knowing smirk bleeding into a genuine, beaming smile when she widened her eyes.
"Obviously! I'll show you all the good places, and more; do you have your dress yet?"
I blinked, then I turned my head towards her and crunched my brows.
"What dress?"
Mor parted her lips. Then she sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, turning towards her cousin with an exasperated look.
"Rhys, you prat; you haven't told her?"
Rhys stared at me, his violet eyes twinkling when he said, deep voice absentminded: "Was busy."
Mor huffed, her lips quirking. "I bet you were."
Rhys just lightly rolled his eyes, and I quickly mouthed prat?, causing him to glare softly at me.
Don´t you dare.
Feeling a slow, beaming smile take over my face, I widened my eyes and mouthed prat, and Rhys huffed, his lips curving until a wide grin made his cheeks crease.
Mor cleared her throat, and I quickly tore my eyes away from Rhys' face, feeling heat bleed into my cheeks when my gaze met Morrigan's, her eyes twinkling knowingly.
"Haven't told me what?", I said quickly, bouncing on the balls of my feet lightly and fighting against the blush growing on my face.
Mor sighed, but her lips curved as she raised her brows. "Summer Solstice."
My heart rose in a flutter, and my gaze darted towards Rhys as my lips parted.
"You - you celebrate that here?"
"Well, not on a huge scale like Summer and Day,", Mor waved her hand dismissingly, "but Rhys has started throwing a party every year still, because, well -", she smirked, "any excuse for a party is a good one."
Rhys' lips curved softly as his eyes pierced mine, a twinkle in their violet depths that made my breath hitch.
"Anyway, he holds it at the River House -"
I blinked before raising my brows.
"Another house?" I felt my eyes widen slightly as my head whipped around and I stared at Mor before quickly looking back at Rhys in disbelief, but he just shrugged, his smirk feline.
"Anyway, when we started doing the celebration, we decided to hold it there because the garden is just beautiful this time of year, though,", Mor turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes almost wistful, "definitely not as beautiful as this one."
My breath hitched as my gaze followed hers, and something fluttered against my ribs.
"The longest day of the year."
Rhys' voice made my heart dip, quiet like only I was meant to hear, and I blinked before tearing my eyes away from the garden, something rising in my chest when I found his twinkling eyes on my face.
"I know." I felt my lips curve softly even as I suppressed the urge to swallow, my eyes moving over his face. "The fairies dance through it, all night long."
Rhys' gaze pierced mine, deep, twinkling, like maybe, he could see the memories of midsummer nights in a wild garden and a dress whirling around my ankles.
"Maybe they'll dance with us if you're there."
I stared at him, and my heart began to slowly flutter against my ribs, more wildly with every second as I started to smile slowly.
"Is that your way of asking if I'll come?"
Rhys stared at me, something swirling in his eyes when he mumbled, slow, deep, steady: "Will you come?"
My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked. Then I widened my eyes and whispered cheekily: "I don't think I have a dress."
Rhys' gaze heated. But before he could open his mouth, Mor chimed in, beaming happily.
"We can get you one! Today; I mean, it is in two days, but I'll take you to the best dressmaker of the city, you'll love it; and she'll have it done in time!"
I felt my lips part quickly, but before I could even make a sound, there was a soft huff; a familiar scent washed over me, and fingers slipped under my chin, closing my mouth again.
"Don't even think about it."
My heart jumped and eyes darted up, and Rhys' lips curved.
I huffed and twisted my neck to get a better look at him, feeling my brows crunch in protest, but Rhys just sent me a wink. "You know arguing is pointless. I´ll get you a dress one way or the other."
Glowering up at him even as something jumped high in my chest, I narrowed my eyes even further when he smirked and dipped his head to mumble: "Just say thank you."
His warm breath brushed over my nose, and my heart dipped.
Staring up at him, I scowled gently. Then I turned my head and sent Mor a brilliant, cheeky smile. "Thank you, Mor."
Rhys huffed, sending me a glare, and Mor smirked and winked.
"My pleasure." She raised her brows and clapped her hands. "Alright, let´s go! Though you,", her lips quirked, "might want to change first."
When I moved back down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed and tying off my braid, Mor was crouched in the middle of the garden, watching the faeries that seemed a little weary but curious when she beamed at them.
"You know she's going to put you through trying on dozens of dresses?"
My heart skipped, and my gaze darted towards where Rhys was leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of tea in his hand and one corner of his lips curving as his eyes raked over my face.
"So?" I felt my lips quirk.
Rhys' iris twinkled.
"A lot of it will be Night Court fashion." His gaze dragged slowly over my body, one corner of his lips curving into a slow, lazy smirk. "It usually means little fabric."
I stared at him as heat pooled low in my stomach, and suddenly, something started fluttering against my ribs violently.
Slowly, I began to walk backwards towards the terrace, sending him a growing, mischievous smile.
"If you want to see me scantily clad, you just have to ask."
Rhys' gaze darted up, his gaze narrowing in and growing dark and heated, and feeling my heart catch in my throat, I smiled beamingly and turned around with a breathed laugh, hopping out onto the terrace to meet Mor at the foot of the steps.
☆
Feeling a breeze brush some hair into my face, I breathed out softly, the warmth of sunlight dappled over my face making my lips curve without my doing.
"So..."
I blinked before opening my eyes and lowering my head, and Mor crunched her nose, looking at me curiously. "What's so special about Summer Solstice?"
We were sitting on the steps of a fountain, the water splashing and bubbling in our backs, a thin paper bag between us on the grey cobblestone, smelling of the buttery pastry I had bought in a shop in one of the countless alleys.
Mor had kept her promise, taking me for breakfast in a small café right at the Sidra. Then she had pulled me into the maze of alleys, streets and squares.
First, she'd taken me to the workshop of her favorite dressmaker, located in a beautiful townhouse in the Rainbow, the artist's district. It belonged to tall, slim High Fae who was clearly familiar with Morrigan, and who had, very happily, pulled all the stops when Mor had winked at her.
Mor had made me try different silhouettes, and I had wandered the aisles and aisles with fabrics, my breath catching at the colors and stitchings. We'd agreed after a while, and when we left the shop, there was a rough sketch and fabric sitting on the dressmaker's desk and my heart was beating against my throat.
Now, the afternoon sun was shining in the sky over the small park that stretched over a little hill surrounded by tall sandstone buildings, their roofs glittering in the light. Trees rose into the sky, offering shade, sunlight was dappled in swaying patterns onto the grass and cool stone of the fountain where we had decided to take a little break, and my feet were aching and my heart was full.
I needed a second to tear my eyes away from the sight of the city stretched out before the mountains. Then I blinked and crunched my brows, looking over at her.
"What do you mean?"
One corner of Mor's lips curved gently. "You just... you looked so surprised."
I felt my heart rise in a soft flutter against my ribs, and I hesitated for a second, then I turned my head and gently narrowed my eyes at her curiously.
"How long have you been... celebrating it like this?"
Mor furrowed her brows, shrugging softly as she plucked a piece off her pastry.
"Not long actually. I think Rhys decided to make it a new tradition not quite a century ago, fairly out of,", she blinked, her words slowing as her eyes suddenly began to twinkle softly, "thin air..."
I stared at her, a quick flutter beginning to build in my chest.
"What does it mean to you again?" Mor stared at me, her lips curving.
"It's..." I swallowed softly. "It's a celebration. Held by the fairies, every Summer Solstice. They gather and dance, from evening until deep into the night. All of them, sprites, pixies, nymphs, wraiths, all coming together, celebrating light and life and -" My breath hitched. "Magic."
Mor's warm eyes were glittering.
"You think he -" My voice broke off, my breath catching in my throat.
"Started celebrating it here because of you?" Mor's lips tipped upwards, and she blinked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling in the light. "That does sound awfully like him."
Feeling my heart pounding against my ribs, I stared at her, something suddenly tingling in my stomach.
Mor's smile widened a little. Then she blinked.
"You know, he never told us about you." She raised a brow, her iris sparkling. "Not once."
I huffed gently.
"I know." Shaking my head softly, I turned my head, crunching my brows gently as I blinked into the sunlight. "He told me about that, after I got mad because he turned up, winnowing in even though he was badly wounded and exhausted,", a breath left me, "idiot."
Mor giggled, and I felt my lips curve.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mor´s gaze flicker over my face, warm and bright. Her throat worked. Then she whispered softly: "Thank you."
I blinked. Something in my chest rose and tightened as my gaze darted towards her, and Mor breathed out, her smile a little uneven when she stared back at me.
"I've known Rhys practically my whole life." She furrowed her brows gently, her eyes swimming with emotion. "He's always carried - a lot of weight on his shoulders, and it just got more when he became High Lord. He always took on everything, had to be strong, for everyone. He lets us know when things are heavy, but - he never fully lets us in." She huffed. "He doesn't want to burden us." Shaking her head gently, she hesitated before looking over at me, one corner of her lips rising gently.
"But then he started disappearing, just for a few hours, sometimes more, sometimes less. He never told us where he was going;", she raised her brows, "I always assumed he was just - taking a breather somewhere, taking some time by himself. But whenever he got back, he had that light in his eyes." Her iris started to twinkle as she stared at me.
"That was you." She blinked, her voice a little hoarse when she whispered: "You saved him. Because you saw something in him he lost the ability to see. And because when you showed him that, he believed you. Because he saw something in you too. That same thing that makes him stare at you like you put the stars into the sky." She swallowed gently, and her eyes flickered over my face. "It's like with you, he can just be."
My breath caught in my throat as I stared at her, something suddenly tight in my chest.
"He told you all of that?", I whispered.
Mor's lips quirked gently.
"Not everything. But enough." Her gaze flickered over my face. "He told us about you only after he came back from -" She broke off, her eyes welling with grief. Then she looked back up at me, her iris shimmering as she raised a corner of her lips.
"He was - a wreck, when he got here. But you - you kept him afloat. He was waiting for you. It felt like he was holding his breath. And then you turned up and..." She breathed a brilliant smile. "I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."
My heart rose against my ribs, and Mor sniffled and beamed. "It's like he's come back to life, in a way he's never been before. Like something has - settled, fallen into place."
Something welled over in my chest, and I turned my gaze ahead, fighting to swallow against the pressure in my throat as I stared down the hill and over the roofs of the city, glittering in the sun, trees swaying gently in the breeze.
"Yeah,", I whispered.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mor's gaze move over my face, bright and warm. Then she turned back ahead as well, and together, we stared over the city.
"It's beautiful,", I mumbled softly.
Mor´s lips curved upwards, her voice a little hoarse when she mumbled back: "It's the Court of Dreams."
☆
The sun was disappearing beyond the mountains, painting the skies pink and violet, the first stars twinkling high above when I slipped through the gate and breathed in the scent of flowers and grass and warm evening air.
Mor had dropped me off at the winding street before winnowing away, pulling me into a hug so tight, my ribs cracked, but I had just squeezed her back, feeling the scent of her perfume rising into my nose and her hair tickling my skin.
Slowly making my way around the house, I inhaled deeply, feeling warmth spread through my chest when I saw fairies whizzing through the air over the pond, giggling and chasing each other.
"You took your time."
My heart rose against my ribs, and Rhys, lounging on the steps leading up to the terrace, watched me, his violet eyes reflecting the stars blinking in the sky when he lightly raised a brow. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me, leaving me here all by myself -"
A soft snorted laugh built in my chest, and I sent him a cheeky grin. "I'm sure you were perfectly fine entertaining yourself for once."
"I wasn't. I got so bored I actually went to do some work."
Giggling softly, I gently kicked his leg before plopping down next to him, breathing in deeply. His scent rose into my lungs, and my heart missed a beat.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys' twinkling iris flicker over my face. "Did Mor drag you from shop to shop until you fainted from exhaustion?"
I crunched my brows and looked over at him. "Why, do you think I look the part?"
Rhys' lips curved.
"Did you find a dress?" His gaze drank me in as a crease formed in his cheek, and I stared back, my breath catching and my heart thrumming against my ribs.
"Yeah." My voice was a little soft, a little breathless as I tried not to stare at the curve of Rhys' lips and the small dip in his cheek, his skin glowing in the sunset.
"And?" His voice trickled over me, slow, deep, matching the volume of mine as his gaze dragged over my face, heated, swirling.
I felt my lips tick up as I shrugged one shoulder gently, innocently. "What?"
Rhys stared at me, his arm brushing against my back, sending tingling shivers down my body, and slowly, one corner of his lips curved. "Where is it?"
I huffed softly. "Not yet made."
"Shame." Rhys' eyes were twinkling. "You could let me take a peak."
I widened my eyes and whispered with a bright, cheeky smile: "Where's the fun in that?"
Rhys slowly started to smile brilliantly, his eyes crinkling, and my breath caught in my throat.
For a second, we stared at each other, something trumming in my chest and twisting in my stomach, then Rhys blinked, his eyes never leaving mine as he mumbled: "I think I might have to take the couch tonight."
I could feel my brows crunch in confusion. "Why?"
A deep crease formed in Rhys' cheek, his iris twinkling as his gaze dragged over my face. "Because I'm not sure I would be able to control myself if I saw you in that flimsy nightgown again."
My heart dipped, and suddenly, something hot trickled down my spine.
"I could leave it off."
Rhys' iris hazed over, a rough sound breaking from his throat, and I hastily bit onto the inside of my cheek as a laugh bubbled in my chest, mixing with a rising, fluttering feeling.
"Beast,", Rhys mumbled, his husky voice leaving something twisting down in my stomach.
I shrugged, feeling my lips curve as I turned my gaze back towards the garden. "I mean, if you can't handle it -"
Rhys' gaze narrowed in on my face, became deep and twinkling, and something toppled in my chest as I nearly bit down onto my lip, wondering what on earth I had been thinking.
Swallowing it down, I looked over my shoulder, and Rhys stared at me, gaze molten and dark as slowly, a slight smirk made his lips curve, playful and mischievous.
"Is that a challenge, darling?"
My breath caught in my throat, and my heart swerved sharply.
I blinked, then I shrugged softly, smiling back cheekily. "I don't know, is it?"
Rhys breathed a deep chuckle and leaned forward, and I felt myself freeze when his warm breath brushed over my lips. Then he gently nudged his nose against the side of mine and mumbled, his lips almost brushing my cheek: "Careful." He pulled back just enough to stare at me, his violet iris reflecting the sky as they dragged over mine, twinkling. "I don't lose."
"First time for everything,", I whispered back breathily, feeling my heart rise into my throat, and Rhys slowly started to smile.
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Anything, Always
Rhysand x Reader
Summary: Rhysand has been running himself ragged, and it hasn’t escaped your notice. In an effort to quell old nightmares, Rhysand has an interesting suggestion…
Word count: 4.4k
Warnings: Mild angst (pining + UTM reminder whoops), Feelings™️
Notes: The longest fic to date! I was working on some Azriel WIPs when this piece just happened. I wanted Rhys to get some well-deserved, utterly devoted, loving. Thank you for all the support so far; it means more than you know! ♡
You noticed that as the week has passed, you’ve seen less and less of Rhys around the townhouse. First, it was less frequented dinners, followed by mornings spent alone. Being High Lord is no easy task, but it’s all the more reason for you to lend a helping hand where possible. Instead, all of your offers have been promptly shut down with a wry smile leaving little room for argument since it's nothing more than I usually deal with, darling.
His words echo in your head as you approach his office, the ease with which he said them in juxtaposition with the dark circles beneath his eyes. You doubt he’s been sleeping very well; it was no secret that the High Lord preferred staying up in the evenings, but he always reclaimed that sleep the following morning. Recently you’ve observed his absence from the townhouse in favour of training even before Cassian, the earliest morning bird you know. This simply could not go on—he had to take care of himself. A male like him deserved better than that.
The door to his study was closed and after a brief knock, you slowly cracked it open to peer inside. His head didn’t so much as lift from where he was scanning his papers, a crease between his ink-dark eyebrows. The evening light filtered through the windows behind him, casting him in an iridescent glow befitting his title. He had changed into a loose linen shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal solid tan forearms corded with prominent veins. He scrubbed a calloused hand along his uncharacteristically scruffy jaw. The usual sparkle in his jewel-tone eyes was lost to his evident lack of sleep.
Despite this, he was still the most beautiful male you’ve ever beheld. Even feeling ragged, Rhysand was nothing short of magnificent. No amount of stress could take away from his plush lips, the delicate column of his neck, and the elegant sweep of his collarbones leading to the strong planes of his chest. The age-old flutter in your chest surfaced, a delicate thing you had neglected for so long.
“You can come in, darling.” Finally, those tired eyes lifted to yours where you stood in the doorway. When you don’t move he sweeps a hand towards the cushioned chairs before his rich mahogany desk. You quash any semblance of that flutter until a deep void is all that remains in your chest; a talent you had mastered after all these years.
“I’d say I’m surprised to find my dearest High Lord secluded in his office on a Friday evening, but I made an oath not to lie.” You idle your way in, running your finger along the books on his shelf. You frown at the faint layer of dust over his more loved collections.
“Well, Friday evening or not, doesn’t my dearest advisor have work to do instead of chatting me up like some girl at Rita’s?” Like a delicate brush stroke, his ebony brow arched. Rhysand’s eyes tracked your approach as you walked around the spacious office, feet padding against the soft carpet. The snack you had brought him earlier remained untouched on his desk, and you clenched your clasped hands behind your back.
“Girls at bars aren't worth my time, though it wouldn’t hurt for you to try. All you do is hide away here; you’ll have the year-end papers done at this rate.”
He shrugged, nonchalant, “Better to be more prepared than found lacking, no?”
You stopped before his desk and stared, “It’s only springtime Rhysand.” At your unflinching gaze, he sighed.
“I was unimpressed with some of the projections submitted by the Court of Nightmares. Sloppy work.” His jaw worked in time to the pulse in his neck. You nodded, acquiescing as much. As Rhysand’s advisor, you were expressly aware of the substandard documents that Kier had submitted. Despite his abysmal summation of the Court of Nightmare’s projections, Kier could receive a verbal (or literal) lashing later.
“Rhys, this isn’t an express concern at the moment.” He dropped his head back to his papers, dipping the fountain pen in the inkwell. The sound of your breathing and scratching on parchment permeated the silence. The dismissal was clear, though surprisingly cruel from your usual playful High Lord.
“Rhys, look at me.” Despite your pleading tone, he remained fixed on his writing. In a few swift steps, you rounded the desk. You placed a gentle hand beneath his chin, lifting his face to your searching eyes. Where his silence was defiant, now there is only weariness.
“Rhysand… what’s wrong honey?” The endearment slips out, but your chest constricts at the sight of the defeated male before you. You miss your charming friend. Your thumb lightly caresses his cheek and his lashes flutter at the sensation. He gives you a wry smile and grips your fingers in his warm hand, “Nothing is wrong. I’m only a little tired.”
You breathed deeply, willing yourself to remain calm. Rhysand was known to undertake everything by himself, an expression of his love towards his family. While you appreciate the care he tries to show, his selflessness couldn’t happen at the expense of his well-being. This was something different.
Your silence unnerved the usually unshakeable male, and he seemed to deflate under your scrutiny. So you waited—let him process his thoughts, choose what he wanted to say.
When his grip tightened on your hand but his silence persisted, you offered an olive branch.
“I have never been able to share my feelings with ease; to feel so much… it is an overwhelming burden. And yet–” You took a steadying breath, hesitant to reveal so much but unable to help him understand otherwise. His expectant gaze was patient, if not encouraging.
“And yet, unravelling my feelings and sharing them with you is effortless. With you, I know I am safe. That I am understood. Rhysand, I want to be that person for you. You are welcome to share, and I will always be there to listen.”
When you finished, you shifted to perch on the desk space poised between his legs. Rhysand unconsciously moved his chair closer, his head pressing into your jointly entwined hands. He slowly inhaled, the scent of you a balm to his fraying senses.
“They’re back. She’s back,” Rhys didn’t need to elaborate on who and what for you to catch his meaning. You had known that nightmares plagued him often in the time since his return from Under the Mountain. Years had passed since then but the horrors he endured were not easily forgotten, “I don’t know what to do.”
The defeat in his tone nearly brought tears to your eyes, but you reigned them in—this was his opportunity to be vulnerable and you must remain strong.
“I think about all of the lives I–... I think about all of it, often. It is never not on my mind, but I can usually move past it. You all help,” At this, he squeezed your palm again, an earnest look in his violet eyes, “But sometimes the guilt–” He loosed a sigh, shaking his head, “It is unbearable.’
Rhysand pulled his hand away from yours, leaving it cold. He stared down at his hands between you both as if all of his sins were still visible. To him, you’re sure they were.
His voice was lowered to a whisper now, “When I sleep, she taunts me. She stokes that guilt from an ember to a flame and eats away at me. All I can think to do is run myself ragged, in some form of masochistic repenting.”
Rhys glances up at you, his heart dropping when he sees your eyes are closed. Even you couldn’t bear to look at him after what he had done. Clenching his jaw, he begins to pull away and prepares for your imminent disgust.
He doesn’t expect you to grip his cheeks, and pull him back to you. Rhysand’s eyes are comically large this close, your noses a hair's breadth away from touching. He has never seen your mouth set in such a serious line, your eyes blazing with such fire.
“Listen to me very closely. Everything you did? It was necessary for survival. For yours. For the Night Court’s. For our family’s. It is only normal to feel guilt—that’s what makes you the wonderful, kind male I know.” Your hands pressed almost painfully, as if you could physically push the words into his head, “But you should never regret what you did. Because it brought you back to us.” To me, but you left that part unspoken.
When he seems to hesitate you reinforce, “Any of us would’ve done it for you. If I could've traded places with you I would have done so in a heartbeat, Rhysand. And it kills me to see you blame yourself. You can repay those you mourn by living your life to the fullest in their honour.”
He regards you for a moment, plush lip pulled tightly between his teeth. Rhysand nods slowly at your searching stare, the sorrow clearing from his eyes like clouds in a bright night sky. Those stars you so love wink back at you from his midnight gaze.
Unable to help yourself, you swoop him up into your tight embrace. Rhys’s strong arms wrap around you in no time, his head at your breast. He can hear the rapid but sure beating of your heart and it brings him a peace that he hasn’t felt since the nightmares returned.
“Thank you.” His soft words lift your heart and you place a swift kiss on the top of his head.
“Always.”
You stroke his raven hair in soothing motions, running your nails lightly along his scalp. Rhys visibly relaxes in your hold, his shoulders slumping with a weight unloaded. You dare to enjoy the moment, knowing that the likes of these are few and far between; you seldom let yourself get this close, the ache in your heart too much.
Finally, you pull away, a determined look on your face, “How can I help you, Rhys?”
His face softened, and he let out a light chuckle, “I doubt you can, darling. This is just one of those things.”
“It most certainly will not be one of those things. There has to be something; maybe if we help you relax? A sleeping draught?”
He winced at that, “No sleeping draughts, preferably. I’m not fond of drugging myself.”
You scratched your chin, “No, that doesn’t seem sustainable long term.”
While you brainstormed ideas to help the male before you, Rhys glanced at you through thick lashes. He had begun to fiddle with the fountain pen, twisting the top, “I think I may have a suggestion.”
You snapped out of your thoughts, “Already? What is it?” A beaming smile stretched across your face—anything. You would do anything to help him.
He locked his eyes on yours, voice level, “Sleep with me.”
You blinked, unmoving. You stared at him a few seconds longer, the words failing to process. You’re sure you must have stopped breathing, the thumping of your heart overwhelming your senses.
Sleep with me.
A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, “I’m sorry? ‘Sleep with you’?”
A million thoughts were spinning in your head, each faster than the last. Slick skin on skin; hands fisted in sheets, in hair, scratching down a tan, tatted back; clothes haphazardly strewn around the room; pleasurable pants filling the air. You shook your head. Surely you had misheard? Misunderstood?
A cocky smile spread across Rhysand’s face, although the dusting of pink crawling up his neck isn't lost on you.
What dirty thoughts are you thinking, darling? That midnight voice lightly caressed your mental shields.
Your cheeks were flaming if the heat under your skin was anything to go by. You persevered and pursed your lips in mock irritation. You would not be undone by his aimless teasing after all these years.
Nothing that would involve the likes of you, the thought pushed right back at his adamantine mental shield.
Rhysands thick lashes lowered, his bottom lip jutting slightly. You wondered what those plush lips would taste like. Although you knew he was playing at seducing you, it didn’t stop the primal need in you from rearing its ugly head.
Would it truly be so bad with me, darling? You know I’d treat you well.
Your lashes fluttered; this had to stop before your heart wilted any further in your chest.
“What is your real suggestion Rhys?” The serious cock of your brows sobered him up near immediately. The twinge in his chest only further cooled him; the way you brushed his teasing off irritated him for reasons beyond what he dared admit.
“It is my real suggestion. I struggle with my sleep—therefore having you there will help.” The cool way he spoke, as if this was only a logical solution, helped to put you at ease. But you couldn’t help but wonder—
“Why me? How would I help?”
He shrugged, “You seem peaceful.”
Your mind whirred at his laconic response. ‘Peaceful’? You couldn’t decide what to make of the situation, but one thing had always been clear.
“I said I’d help you, however I could. If you believe me… sleeping beside you will be beneficial, then I’ll do it.”
He nodded, the same calm look plastered on his face. Rhysand’s nonchalant manner bothered you: did this genuinely mean so little to him? If so, then you would treat it with the same aloof, professional fashion.
“Alright then, we can try tonight if you’re willing?”
His ink-dark eyebrows shot up, “You wish to begin right away?”
“The sooner the better, no?” You couldn’t allow any more sleepless nights; the faster you determined whether this would work, the more time you had to find different options before Rhys ran on empty.
Rhysand’s head tilted, a panther sizing up its prey. Finally, he nodded in agreeance.
Quickly, you stood from his desk, realizing you were still perched between his legs. You dusted off your skirts and swiftly moved to the door. With a hand on the frame, you turned, “Tonight in yours?”
He swallowed, your eyes tracking the bobbing of his Adam's apple along his smooth neck, “Yes, that’ll work just fine darling.”
You stepped away from his office, the final, sure look in Rhysand’s eyes burning through you even hours later.
♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡
You nervously tugged on your silken sleep shorts, psyching yourself up to knock on Rhysand’s bedroom door.
After leaving his office earlier, your heart had been in your throat all day. Even at dinner in the House of Wind, you’d had to be snapped out of thought multiple times by members of your family. While circumventing the reason why you had been so inattentive, your friends spared no insult and pestered you to high hell. Your face had flushed, sure that Rhysand could pick up on your nervousness. Instead, there were no teasing comments; he only returned to his meal.
Now before his room, you took a steadying breath and lightly knocked, in the unlikely event he had fallen asleep. At his faint call you entered, softly shutting the door behind you. The room was aptly decorated for a High Lord. Rich jewel tones complimented Night Court black in various opulent fabrics. Pointedly ignoring the massive bed, you took in the polished mahogany furniture, surely crafted by a masterful hand. From the intricately designed rugs, to the velvet cushions, and the elaborate drapery; it was all magnificent. However, it all paled in comparison to the male inhabiting the room.
Rhys was lounging on a plush divan, drink and papers in hand, looking fresh from the finest of paintings. The loose shirt from earlier was gone, baring his muscled chest. Your eyes tracked along the elegant dark swirls that decorated his tan skin. A pair of black sleep pants adorned his lower body, looking dangerously low on his waist. As you gently padded over, you tried not to focus on the light smattering of dark hair leading below the band. He glanced up at you, violet eyes sparkling like the stars visible through the windows beyond him.
His eyes slowly roved over your figure, noting your bare legs; how you clutched your cream robe, book in hand, a delicate lacy strap peeking out. He took a restrained sip of his amber drink. You settled on a comfortable settee across from him, the book already splayed across your lap.
“Good evening, darling. Care for a drink?” He waved his glass lightly, the ice clinking softly.
You chuckled, shaking your head, “I’m alright, thank you. Is it not a little late to indulge?”
He inspected his drink as if he might find the solution to all his problems within the crystal glass, “I find it soothes the nerves.”
You cocked an eyebrow, “Are you nervous?”
Rhys lifted the drink to his mouth, only to gaze at you over the rim with heavy-lidded eyes, “With you? Always, darling. I mean—you simply strike such an imposing figure.”
You dramatically placed the back of your hand to your head, draping yourself over the settee with all the theatrics you could muster, “Oh, how I plague man with my beauty!”
A deep and joyous laugh broke the silence of the night. You glanced over at Rhysand in slight surprise to see his head thrown back, a hand to his chest. Your heart warmed at the clear mirth on his face. This was the Rhysand you had missed. You soon joined him, your laugh bubbling up with the vigour of a freshly opened champagne bottle.
Gradually, you both settled into silence, and with a wink from Rhys, you both returned to your previous occupations. The cool breeze from the open window carried with it Rhysand’s citrus and sea smell, the faint note of jasmine like a goodnight’s kiss. You basked in the peaceful mood, snuggling closer to the settee with your book. You couldn’t help but look up at Rhys every few pages, taking in his striking profile as the ambient lighting cast shadows across his elegant features. Eventually, you noticed his eyelids beginning to droop and knew he was only stalling the inevitable.
You yawned loudly, covering your mouth for effect, “I think it’s time we retire for the night.”
He smiled, gently placing his empty glass and papers aside, “I agree, darling. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow.”
Rhysand stood and stretched his arms over his head, and you quickly made your way over to his bed, refusing to stare any longer at his chest than necessary. You shed your robe and tossed it over a nearby chair while you both silently readied yourselves for bed. No longer was the silence comforting—instead, your heart threatened to burst from your chest.
You didn't realize how stiff you were until Rhys settled under the covers beside you, the shroud of night concealing your reddened cheeks. You remained rigid, arms at your side like a soldier at attention.
It’s only me, darling. The smooth voice slipped through the cracks of your mind. Rhysand’s low timber reminded you to take a deep breath—you turned towards him and lightly reached your hand out in the space between your pillows. Even in the stygian dark, his eyes shone brighter than ever. That midnight gaze fixed on your open palm. Slowly, he crept his large hand up and brought it to yours, strong fingers caressing your palm. You held your breath as he steadily entwined his fingers with yours, hand sliding across your own. You squeezed lightly in assurance, your eyes falling shut.
Before the throes of sleep could claim you, a gentle caress to your conscience pulled you back.
Can I hold you?
The whispered request was nearly lost in the haze between waking and dreams, but you would always come back for that voice. Beyond words, you pushed your consent to Rhysand’s mind.
Strong arms gently slid around you, pulling your back to a hard chest. Your synced breathing within that warm embrace finally lulled you to a peaceful sleep.
♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡
Light filtering through the window assaults your eyes, bringing with it the realities of the morning. You stretch like a cat in the sun, silken sheets sliding across your bare legs. You hadn’t slept like that in years, Cauldron, centuries even. The sweet haze lingering from your sleep washed away once you noticed the empty—albeit still warm—bedside. You quickly sat up only to be interrupted by Rhysand waltzing in through the doors, breakfast in hand.
“Good morning, darling. I hope you’re hungry—I’m loving the bedhead by the way.” He swooped over to the bed, deftly handling the large tray in hand as he settled back beside you. You swiftly patted your hair down, “Yes, good morning Rhysand.”
Your dry tone didn’t damper Rhys’s wide smirk one bit. He was glowing this morning with an air of contentment; the full night's sleep had done him well.
He gestured to the amalgamation of various foods before you, “I wasn’t sure what you would be craving, so I grabbed a little bit of everything.” The delicious smell wafted before you, your stomach grumbling without consent.
“If this is how I’m treated, I don’t think I’ll ever leave.” You popped a berry into your mouth, relishing its succulent flavour.
“Consider it a thank you,” You paused, buttered toast halfway to your mouth, at Rhysand’s words, “For giving me, perhaps, the best sleep I have had in my five centuries.”
The earnest look in his eyes prompted you to butter your toast more vigorously, hoping he would miss the rosy flush seeping across your features.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve never slept better either,” You smiled gently, hoping to not sound too heartfelt in your admission, “And there is no reason to thank me, Rhys. You know I’d do anything for you.”
You held your breath at the candid confession, praying he did not understand the real meaning behind your words.
Instead, his chest swelled with emotion. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a swift kiss to your hair.
“All the more reason for me to thank you, darling.”
♡𝌀𝌀𝌀♥𝌀𝌀𝌀♡
The next few weeks continued much like that night; you would both lounge around in the evening and then retire to bed. Only, your inclination towards one another had become irresistible. The moment you got beneath the covers, you found yourself instinctually reaching for Rhysand’s embrace. Often, he held you close, your head poised at his soft neck. Occasionally, on the more difficult nights, you would swaddle Rhys tightly to your chest, caressing his hair as he was lulled to sleep by your steady heartbeat.
However much you enjoyed your time in bed with Rhysand, you couldn’t deny the increasing difficulty with which to hide your escalating feelings. What were once mere fleeting glances, were now lingering stares; no dark circles were to be found on his handsome face, his beaming grin a drug that would surely consume you. Rather than have the moments together soothe your ache like a balm, you only craved his attention more so.
As you both fell into your usual routine for the night and settled under the covers, you finally ripped the bandage from the festering wound.
“I think I may sleep in my bed beginning tomorrow night.”
Rhysand’s body froze beneath your touch, his arms still only half around you. Quickly, you continued, “Your nightmares seem to have passed—which I am eternally grateful for—therefore I don’t see any reason why I should continue to sleep here.” With you, the words didn’t need to be spoken; they loomed in the air around you.
A beat of silence passed before he spoke, “Why not?”
You gasped as he seized you closer to his chest. His breath was heaving while he squeezed you tighter in his arms. You quashed the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach, reluctant to hurt your feelings further.
You sighed, eyes closing, “Again, there is no reason–”
“I want you here. With me. That is the reason why you should stay.”
You audibly swallowed, taking his words with a grain of salt. Your voice took on a placating tone as you lightly placed your palms on his chest, “I understand that you’re worried about the nightmares–”
“Darling, you understand nothing,” You stared, dumbfounded at his earnest tone.
“The agony of lost sleep pales in comparison to the loss of your presence. There is nothing more that I desire than having you here next to me as I fall asleep and as I wake. Seeing your radiant face every morning—I feel like the luckiest male in the world. And I am greedy; for your touch, your time…” He shook his head, putting his forehead to yours, “I know I am asking much of you since—”
You surged forward and placed a passionate kiss on his lips. His lashes fluttered before he was pushing back with just as much fervour. You pressed your body tighter against his, feeling the contours of his body moulding perfectly to your own. You wanted him closer—had you been one body right now, it would not have been enough. He thought he was greedy? He had no concept of the depth of your selfish desires, only scraping the surface with this ardent kiss.
You pulled back, breathless and entirely at his mercy, “You could ask for all the stars in the night sky and I would scorch my hands to deliver them to you,” He brushed his nose against your own, your swollen lips lightly caressing, “There is no limit to what I can give you Rhysand, if only you’ll let me.”
His violet eyes shone with disbelieving wonder as if he was undeserving of your affections. Rhys kissed you gently; this kiss held a promise that the others lacked. It was a promise of love, of reverence, of total, utter devotion. Your heart soared in your chest and for once, you let it; a caged bird finally tasting freedom.
That same gentle presence filled your mind once again.
I would be honoured, darling.
The message was bundled in the gossamer enormity of his feelings for you. With your heart content, you whispered under the cover of silky night,
“The honour will always be mine.”
Final Notes: Anything for my bbg Rhys <3 (Can you tell I recently rewatched Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time?) Hope you all liked it!
#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#rhysand x you#rhys x you#rhysand/reader#rhys/reader#rhysand#rhys#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acomaf#acowar#acosf#cherhys
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Dioxazine (Part 2)
Rhysand x Reader
Summary: After Rhys invites you to his party, you find yourself attending...for research.
Warnings: Drinking, smoking, smut.
Word Count: 4,993
(Part 1)
Notes: thank you, as always, to @writingsbychlo for the help 💙
And Happy Friday my loves!!
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You make a noise of frustration, leaning back into your chair and tossing your brush into the palette beside your canvas. It bounces once before the tip sticks in the thick oily violet color you’d been trying to perfect, while the wooden handle of the paintbrush rolls into the other various shades of violet you’d been trying to blend from memory.
None of them are right.
You’ll never admit it – least of all to Rhysand should you ever see him again – but he has the most intriguing eyes you’ve ever seen. Sure, you’ve seen pretty greens and blues and caramel browns, vast arrays of colorful iris’ throughout your life, but never that striking violet that Rhys has.
You cross your arms over your chest as you stare at the painting of his eyes you’ve been attempting since you’ve gotten home from your trip to the supply store where you’d met the cheeky man. You haven’t been able to get them off of your mind, so you did the only thing that would normally help you move on from something so interesting; paint it.
But the purple you mixed doesn’t look like lightning streaking across the night sky. What you’ve painted looks more like a bushel of grapes ready to be crushed and made into wine. It’s all off. You’ve used nearly the entire tube of the dioxazine color you’d bought trying to blend the perfect shade, but to no avail.
You bite your cheek, looking down at your arm. You’d scrubbed tirelessly at the thick black numbers Rhysand had scribbled on your skin in haste, but even if you hadn’t immediately plugged his number into your phone as soon as you set your bag of art supplies down, you have it memorized anyway. It had been the only way to get him away from you, although there was something about his incessant flirting and cheeky attitude that had you intrigued. And the fact that he’s drop dead gorgeous.
You can’t help but wonder what he and his friends were spray painting and where. Was it on the side of the commons building with their address and time for the party? Or maybe some random run down building off campus somewhere? Did he paint an admission of his fondness towards the girl he’d known for only a few minutes? He did say that he would paint something pretty for you.
Groaning, you throw your head in your hands. You should stop thinking about him. You don’t want to be, but there’s something about Rhys that you just can’t get out of your head. And it’s not only the color of his eyes.
Your arm has barely stopped tingling and your stomach has had butterflies running rampant since he’d grabbed your arm to write his number down. His hand was large and warm wrapped around your wrist, and it was calloused in all of the right places. His smirk had made your heart stutter in your chest and after seeing that silly tattoo you found yourself wanting to rid him of his shirt to admire the other ink you saw sprawling up his tan arms.
Rhys seems like the kind of guy who even has tattoos framing his–
“Fuck,” you breathe, reaching for your phone that’s playing music softly by your side. Your cheeks are hot with a blush and you’re thankful that no one’s around to see it. Paint smears on the screen as you try to unlock it, a vibrant purple that makes you want to cringe. It’s nowhere near the color you’re looking for, and you swipe your phone against your pants, quickly removing the paint and pulling open a new text thread before you lose your nerve.
It’s (Y/N). Where’s that party you were talking about earlier?
Simple. Straight to the point. You hit send.
There’s a fleeting thought that maybe you should delete it, but your phone is already buzzing with response.
Changed your mind already, (Y/N) Darling? That didn’t take long.
You huff, even though you’d been expecting something as much from Rhysand.
Changed my mind. Have a nice night. Try not to get the police called on you.
Awe, you’re worried about me?
Address? So I can be the one to call the police on you.
You can picture that smile curling his lips in a feline smirk. Maybe he’s even laughing. A good look for him, one that has you biting your lip and on the edge of your stool as you wait for a response. The three dots appear quickly as he shoots off his reply.
2054 Velaris Circle. I can assure you that no uninvited police will be there.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
“I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming,” Rhys smirks, and gods, does he look amazing in that black t-shirt and jeans to match, leaning up against the doorframe like that. His arms are crossed over his chest, the pose accentuating his muscles.
You swallow, holding his gaze. His violet eyes are intense and the air around you is charged as he dares you to check him out.
You don’t give into the urge to drag your eyes down his body, instead taking in his handsome face. The wicked curve of his mouth and his sleek black hair is mused in the perfect way. You notice the stars in his eyes the longer you stare, and all of sudden you know that you’re no longer here just to memorize that color for your painting.
You need to memorize all of him.
“I was deciding whether or not I wanted to actually show up,” you respond with a lie, shrugging as if you haven’t just come to this jarring realization.
Rhys doesn’t look like he believes you, so he says, “Well, I’m glad you could find the time to join me.”
Not join the party, not join us, but him.
“I have artists’ block and nothing better to do anyway, so here I am,” you offer lamely but he smiles nonetheless.
He hums in a noncommittal way and shifts to the side, gesturing you into the house with a wave.
You duck inside and Rhys’ hand falls lightly to your back to usher you deeper into his home. You can feel his fingertips burning through the thin fabric of your shirt, heating your bones. The touch of him against you helps as you maneuver through the mass of drunken strangers, the music loud in your ears.
If you thought the outside was tremendous, the inside is even more so. It’s a large house, bigger than you would assume a struggling art student to be able to afford, even with multiple roommates. He must come from some sort of money or in fact be a very successful artist to call this extravagant, modern space his home.
The crowd parts around you as Rhys guides you through the foyer. Girls take you in with their hazy glares, assessing, while the boys clap Rhys on the shoulder with passing greetings, cheers, and dibs to be his partner in the next round of beer pong.
“Wow…you’re quite the social butterfly,” you comment as you pass by two boys who are handing out shots of amber liquid to passersby. Both of their copper hair stands out even under the low lighting, and you gasp, jumping backward as the younger one shoves a glass into your hand as the older one flicks his lighter, setting the liquid on fire with a brazen grin.
Rhysands warm hands find your hips as you startle, settling you as he continues forward to press up into your backside in protection. He sends a glare that you miss over your head towards the pyromaniacs that have somehow squirreled their way into another one of his parties.
“What the fuck?” you squeak, careful not to let any of the drink slosh over the sides of the glass.
“It’s alright, Darling,” Rhys’ deep tone sends shivers rumbling up your spine, drawing your attention away from the flaming drink in your hand. Your cheeks heat as your focus is pulled to the hard lines of his body pressed tightly against yours, his fingers pressing into your waist with confidence. You feel as though you’ve already taken the shot of alcohol.
Rhys reaches over your shoulder to take the drink from your hands. He keeps it held in front of you, as far away from your body as he can reach. Your hands fall to grasp the sides of his legs as he places a palm over the entirety of the glass, your breath hitching in your throat as he stifles its flame.
Your nails dig into the meat of his thighs through the thick denim and his breathing falters as he thinks about those nails all over his body, dragging across his tanned skin while you writhe and whimper beneath him.
You feel his breathing deepen and his cock press into your hind. You bite your lip to stifle the noise of pleasure creeping up your throat.
You want this.
You want him.
Your entire façade you had walking into his party is gone, singed away from the sure way he’s holding you tightly to his body. You can feel every muscle as he moves, every breath he takes, his broad chest pushing you forward and the arm around your waist pulling you back, lulling you into him further. You’re a fucking goner.
Once the flame is smothered, he uses that hand to grab your chin, tilting your head back all the way until you meet his violet gaze.
His eyes are burning the color of the hottest flames, licking you up as he forces your jaw open, his thumb and middle fingers pinching your cheeks. It isn’t painful but his touch isn’t light and the feeling goes straight to your core, molten for him.
“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, focusing fully on you as he brings the shot to your mouth and dumps the liquid in.
You choke a little as you force the cinnamon liquor down and the sound makes him bite his lip and his cock jump with need. You can’t help but arch against him a little, grinding into him as he thinks about what kinds of sounds you’d make if his cock was being shoved down your throat instead of just the fiery alcohol.
“Yo! Get a room,” a high pitched voice startles you. Rhys’ grip around your neck tightens in reflex but falls to your side when your attention is ripped apart to the girl passing by with a wicked grin on her cadmium red lips.
She’s gorgeous, clad in a skimpy dress and killer heels, her blonde hair bouncing around her in perfect waves as she approaches. You swallow your nervousness, beginning to shift away from Rhys because surely he’ll want her attention.
But Rhysand only scowls at the girl, his hand on your hip sliding across your waist to keep you pinned to his front. “You’re one to talk, Morrigan. I think Emerie is waiting in the guest room already.”
Her laugh is a song of its own and she doesn’t take the time to stop like you thought that she would, she only continues deeper into the party where the music gets louder and the air gets hotter.
You raise your eyebrow at Rhys and he grins sheepishly. “That was my nosey cousin, Mor.”
You nod in understanding as he begins leading you through the room again with a final scowl over his shoulders at the two brothers with matching shit-eating grins covering their freckled lined faces.
When the crowd parts and you finally catch sight of where Rhys is taking you and you halt in your tracks.
There’s a table of sorts set up, a few ring lights brightening up the space in the corner of the room. You recognize the two boys. There’s a gloriously tanned man laying on the table, shirtless with the waistband of his pants tugged down to expose his hips. He’s grinning down at something that the artist mutters. His toned body is littered with tattoos like Rhys’, though you can’t make them out from where you’re standing. He huffs a laugh when the dark haired boy with the tattoo gun in his hand pauses and glares up at him, settling flat on his back from where he’d been curled up, trying to get a look at the progress of his new tattoo.
The artist looks similar as he hunches over the other man’s waist once more. Broad shoulders beneath a starkly onyx shirt. The fringe of his hair hangs between the two men, looking silky soft in the harsh lights. He’s concentrating hard, attentive golden eyes and steady hands covered with sterile gloves. More permanent art across his body, you notice a tattoo of a falling angel on his bicep. Whatever it’s reaching up towards disappears beneath the sleeve of his shirt.
Your stomach rolls with nervousness. Surely Rhys hadn’t been serious when he’d mentioned you getting a tattoo of his phone number outside of the art shop.
You rub your hand over the mark he’d left subconsciously.
“Isn’t that illegal?” you blurt, grimacing as you stare at the man as he pauses to wipe stray ink away from the other man’s cut hips.
“Having fun? No.”
You tear your gaze away from the sight to glare up at him.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Rhys’ laughter rings above the heavy bass of the music and his hand presses more firmly against your back, urging you forward. Your spine tightens pleasurably at the pressure.
“Loosen up. What does it matter, if it’s consensual?”
You suppose he has a point. The area looks clean enough and the boy giving the tattoos looks as professional as any, but you will not be hopping up on that table tonight.
Not that you can’t be convinced.
“They’re my roommates,” Rhys explains as he ushers you by. The one lying on the table gives Rhys a shit eating grin. He looks like he’s about to say something but the other boy mutters a threat that you can’t hear over the loud bass of the music, but the way the other scoffs and deflates tells you enough.
You nod in response, and he continues, leaning down so you can hear him better. His breath is hot against your skin and it causes shivers to prickle up your spine, your fingers twisting together with nervousness as he leads you towards the hall. “The one on the table is Cassian, and the one giving him that awful tattoo I told him not to get is Azriel.”
That catches your interest. “Awful tattoo?” you ask, following Rhys as he shoves his way into a room you can only assume is his own. “What is he getting?”
The lights cut on, dim so that you can see but it doesn’t ruin the mood. Rhys slips the door shut and there’s a click of the lock that's drowned out by the party outside. You find yourself not caring what tattoo Cassian is getting as you take in the sight of his large room. It’s something out of a dream, sleek and pristine and attuned to Rhysand very aesthetically. There’s stacks of art history books littering his large desk on one side, his sleek laptop shut on top, and the other side is filled with a mess of charcoals, pencils, and paper from the art shop.
You wonder what he’s drawing over there.
Rhys tuts disapprovingly, “You do not want to know, Darling.”
You can’t help but grin at him as he comes up behind where you’re standing to wrap himself around you. It’s nice, more than, and while you swore you were only coming here to peek at his eyes again to reference in your painting, you find yourself wanting to get him out of his clothes, see all of him, so your work of just his eyes can turn into a full body picture.
“Oh, but now I really do want to know,” you giggle, latching onto his forearm where it’s splayed across your shoulders. You turn in his arms and Rhys lets you lead him backwards towards the bed as you guess. “Is it leaves or wings? Or, don’t tell me! It’s totally someone's name, right? He seems like the type.”
Rhysand dips his head down to press against yours. Your breath hitches at his close proximity and your cheeky thoughts wander into something more serious, your grip tightening on him as the backs of his legs hit the bed.
“Oh, Darling,” he breathes, nipping at your lip. It’s quick and playful and you find yourself wanting to chase him for more. “It’s so much worse than that. I told him not to get it.”
Rhys’ grip tightens around your waist as he falls backwards and you land on top of his rock hard chest with a squeal. Your hips are tucked tightly to his and when you move to settle more properly, he grunts at you.
You can’t help yourself, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead as you respond, “Yeah? Worse than a drugged-out Mickey Mouse?”
He grins and your heart stutters. That is something you’ll have no trouble painting later because it is forever etched into your mind now.
Rhys pokes your sides and you squirm against him in retaliation. He chokes on his laugh and those violet eyes darken with lust at your movements. You can feel just how much you’re affecting him.
“He’s getting ‘in case I forget later: thank you’ tattooed across his hips, Darling.”
Your mouth falls open in shock before you’re bursting out into uncontrollable laughter. You can’t help yourself and Mother help the poor girls who see it, but that is a heinous crime and Rhysand doesn’t even look like he’s joking.
“Please tell me that’s not true,” you ask when you calm down a little, cheeks burning from your smile. You quite like the way that Rhysand’s dioxazine eyes shine at you.
He shrugs under you, “Said he wanted to match with me.”
“Stop.”
He lifts a brow, daring. “Why don’t you take a look for yourself?”
And with those words the silliness eddies from your body. Instead, it’s replaced with a charged sort of silence, his breathing deepening as your pupils dilate for him. His hands around your hips move slowly, warm palms curving over the round of your ass before pulling your hips tighter into him. You gasp, circling them a little, reveling in the hardness pressed up against you and his guttural groan.
When you move to slide down his body he licks his lips, carefully watching your fingers fumble with the button of his pants. You keep your eyes off of his cock where it’s straining against the fabric, but your mouth waters a little knowing that he’s as ready for this as you are. You wonder if he’s spent all day thinking about you like you have him, and you fight the urge to go flip through those drawings on his desk to see if he’s been sketching you too.
You’re eager, shoving his shirt up his chest to reveal the deep cut of his hip bones, tanned and not an ounce of ink in sight.
You purse your lips, glaring up at him playfully.
“You lied to me.”
His stare is hungry, the sight of you before his cock makes him ache more, and that pout…he hopes he lasts.
“Maybe someday, Darling,” his voice is raspy with desire that makes your cunt clench. Until that day, you’ll leave your own marks on his hips.
You act on the urge, leaning closer to lick and nip at the smooth skin. Your eyes don’t leave his and you swear he shudders as you suck as many marks into the area as you can. When you shift to lap at the other side you let your breasts drag across the bulge in his pants, nipples tightening at the feeling.
Rhys’ head falls back on his shoulders as he releases a shaky exhale, “Darling.”
You ignore him in favor of tugging at the waistband of his briefs, aching to see that picturesque cock and add it to the painting you’re building in your mind.
He gets the hint quickly, grabbing your arms and pulling you up his body for a burning kiss.
Before you even have a chance to sink into it he’s rolling you off of him. A protest pushes at your lips but he’s lifting himself to pull at the jeans you’ve already started getting off, and you’re frozen at the sight as his bottoms hit the floor and his cock springs up, thick and hard and perfect in every way. You swallow at the sight of it.
Your heart races in your chest as he climbs back onto the bed, wasting no time in helping you with your own clothes, attaching himself to your lips as his hands begin to wander everywhere. Yours slip into his silky hair and you moan into the kiss, shuddering as the cool air of his room coats your naked body until his warm one is pressing harshly against yours, his filled cock sliding through the folds of your slick cunt.
There is no foreplay. You don’t need it with how wet you are, how eager for him you are. The both of you touch and tug at each other desperately, like you haven’t thought of anything else all day except for this moment, and neither of you are willing to waste it. With the way that he’s kissing you, fingers sliding across your body to shift you into the positions he wants, you know that there will be more time for you to explore later.
You are the perfect canvas for his kisses, reacting beautifully to his every move.
The party is still in its height, music thrumming so loudly that the walls shake with it. You don’t care though, all caught up in Rhysand.
The pounding of the base fizzles out as his cock slides in, in, into your hot cunt, swallowing the length like the good girl he knows you are. You whimper with pleasure. It’s almost too much, how big he is, how warm he is, it feels like you can feel him in your throat.
“Fuck, Darling. Just like I’d imagined it’d be.”
You arch at his words. You’re pressed so tightly together you think his tattoos might rub off on you. The thought makes you shiver. You’d love to be marked by him in a way that will last longer than the bruises his fingertips and lips are leaving.
You feel like sliding out from under him and onto that leather table set up in the other room, requesting a tattoo from the quiet man giving them. Or just have him come in here and do it while you’re sitting on Rhysands cock.
“Hey, where’d you go?” Rhys whispers against your lips, drawing you away from your wandering thoughts. A soft kiss, a tease, and then another.
You surge up from the pillow and kiss him when he pulls away. Your fingers twist into his hair to hold him against you and in return his hips cant downwards into your own. He moans into your mouth. He tastes amazing and the heat of his lips against yours goes straight to your core. The swirl of his tongue is one you hope he’ll recreate against your clit later.
“If you could give me a tattoo, what would you give me?” you ask breathlessly, desperately as he impales you with his cock, nails scraping down his back as he pushes into you even further. His large hands hold your waist and when you arch your spine in pleasure his eyes glow.
He stares down at you for a moment, violet gaze drinking in the swell of your lips, the mess your hair has become as he ruts into you. Your beauty is everlasting, and your words drive him deeper into you with a feral groan. His words slip from his mouth in pleasure, “My name.”
You can’t help the loud, erotic moan that escapes at his admission.
“Fuck. Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Rhys growls, pressing his body flush against yours to pin you to the bed. He likes the feel of you under him, writhing against his chest with his cock shoved deep into your soaking wet cunt. He sucks a lewd kiss to the underside of your jaw, making his way towards your ear.
The pendant of his necklace is like ice against your hot skin and you whimper in pleasure at the feeling, praying that the medallion will be indented into your skin from how tightly the two of you are molded together.
His voice is low, breath hot as he hums, “Want to have my name on you, yeah? Right where everyone can see, pretty girl?” His calloused fingers trail up your sides, stopping at your breasts to play with them. He circles your nipple with his finger, cock twitching at the thought of you branded with his name across your skin. “Or would you want it somewhere else? A secret for just you and me?”
You can’t help it, chest heaving against his. His words are incredibly erotic, and they drive you towards your edge, eyes rolling back into your skull at the thought. Rhys hisses with satisfaction when your cunt clenches around him in response.
He has such a sinful way with his lips, nipping and biting and kissing in all of the right spots. You feel like a Goddess being worshiped by her loyal acolyte. The wetness of his mouth leaves a trail of pleasure down your skin, the cold air of his room licking at it in the best way.
Rhysand teases your breasts as he fucks into you, massaging one with a warm hand and the other with his mouth, rolling your nipple between his teeth and brushing his tongue over it. You pull at his hair and a hiss escapes your lips at the sting.
Your touch scalds him in the best way and he can’t help but to buck into you as your nails scape down his tanned skin again, pleading for everything he can give you.
He will give you it all.
Rhys takes extra care of you, reveling in the sounds you’re making for him. He doesn’t care that he’s hosting a party outside of this door, doesn’t care if someone comes near enough to hear your desperate pleas for him to go faster, to continue rubbing his fingers against your clit, to let you ride him. He almost wants someone to hear how he’s making you feel, making you scream.
Finally, his hand trails down to where his hips are jackknifing into your cunt at a steady pace. He leans back, staring down at where your bodies meet, your glistening cunt in the light washing into the room from the dimmed lights. He licks his lips, vowing to taste you after this.
His light touch makes you gasp and buck up, fingers treading softly over your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm, that hot feeling coiling in your gut.
Rhysand’s thumb presses hot against your clit as his cock buries into you so deeply you see stars for a moment. You clench your legs together instinctively but he’s already there, keeping them spread wide with his own thick thighs as he quickens his pace.
“Rhys,” you cry, hands fisting into the sheets as he works you towards your pleasure, “Please. Please!”
“Please what?” he grunts. He can’t look away from your perfect cunt, the way it swallows his cock up, taking him so greedily. “C’mon, Darling, gotta use your words.”
You press your head back into the pillow, mouth slack in ecstasy. The sight makes his cock twitch, makes him want to shove it right between your perfectly ‘o’ shaped lips, feel the tightness of your throat wrapped around him as he cums.
“Please, don’t stop,” you choke, letting yourself fall into utter bliss.
Rhys doesn’t stop. He keeps working you through your orgasm until he’s cumming right there with you, hot and pulsing into your throbbing cunt.
He collapses next to you, pulling you in tightly to his chest as if you’re already too far apart from him. Rhys presses his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed tightly shut. His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, panting across your cheeks with every exhale he takes.
“Rhys?” you ask when you’ve settled into your afterglow, his fingers playing with your hair mindlessly.
He hasn’t let you go since, hardly long enough for him to clean you up and let you use the restroom, and then you were climbing right back into his soft bed, nestling into his warm embrace.
He hums languidly, utterly at peace with you here, even though the party is still in full effect outside. There’s muffled cheering about a keg stand and wolfish laughter rattles the house but even then, it feels like it’s just you and him alone in your own little world. “What?”
“What did you tag on the building earlier?” Your eyes slip shut and the question comes out shy.
He presses a kiss to your forehead, cheeks, and finally a slow kiss to your mouth, his tongue coaxing you deeper into his arms.
“I tagged it with a violet rose.”
“A violet rose? Why’s that?”
He’s silent for so long that you think maybe he’s fallen asleep, cracking one eye open to see, but he’s staring down at you with soft eyes and red cheeks. He swallows harshly and for a moment you’re afraid that he’s not going to explain, that you’ll have to look it up after he falls asleep.
“Darling, a violet rose represents love at first sight.”
#rhysand#rhysand x reader#rhysand/reader#rhys/reader#rhys x reader#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acotarxreader#modern!rhys#modern!rhysand#azsazz#art school au
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Say You Want Me- (Rhys Strongfork/Reader)
Gn! Reader
Find me on Ao3 @ xicarusx
"You know you could just go and talk to them right?" Yvette sighed as she stabbed her fork into her salad in minor agitation as she glanced over at Rhys.
"Yeah buddy, c'mon!" Vaughn added, "I never thought that you of all people would be scared to go and talk to them."
In fact, he was always scared to talk to you. Yvette and Vaughn both assumed that was why he acted the way he did whenever he spoke to you. Like a total idiot. Rhys glanced over at his two friends before his eyes returned to you as you walked into the cafeteria.
"Nonono," Rhys hummed quietly, shaking his head, "I couldn't do that... not with all these people around."
He rested his cheek on his hand, his eyes half-lidded as he admired you from across the room. This was starting to get on Yvette's nerves. For the first few weeks, it was cute, that Rhys was so head over heels with you and crushing on you like a schoolboy. It quickly lost its charm once he started to make an absolute fool of himself. A few days ago he had nearly electrocuted himself as he tried to lean against an electrical box with his prosthetic in an attempt to seem 'more relaxed' after you had jokingly said that he seemed to be tightly wound. Vaughn had to haul him away by the collar of his shirt as he continued to rattle on to you about just how relaxed he really was. He watched as you sat down at a table by yourself, it wasn't often that you ate lunch with anyone else. Hell, you barely even joined Rhys and his friends for lunch- despite how many times he had offered. You always sat at the same table, on your own, picking at your lunch as you continued to work. He couldn't take his eyes off of you as you spread your work out in front of you, your lips moving as you spoke quietly to yourself as you read over the paperwork.
"Rhys, just be yourself! We've all seen the way they look at you," Yvette sighed as she rested her plastic fork against her tupperware container, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the table, "Especially when you act like yourself."
Rhys frowned at the second part of her statement, pulling his eyes away from you and finally making eye contact with Yvette and Vaughn. He knitted his eyebrows together in confusion as he looked at the two of them and tilted his head to the side and scoffed.
"Act like myself?! I always act like myself!" Rhys protested.
Vaughn frowned, "You told them two weeks ago that you can lift 400 pounds, Rhys. I don't think I've ever seen you in a gym before."
Yvette snorted, "And! And! The week before that, you told them that you've killed twenty bandits! You've never even been on the surface of Pandora before!"
"And then!" Vaughn started, but Rhys grimaced and held up his hands in defeat.
"Ooookay! Thanks for that you guys," He forced a chuckle, as he glanced back over at you.
He dropped his shoulders and sighed as he tilted his head to the side. Why was it so complicated for him to be himself around you? Was it because you were slightly above him in the food chain? Or was it the earnest look in your eyes everytime he spoke to you? Or the way you laughed at every single joke he would tell, even if it was arguably not funny! Or maybe it was the way you lit up everytime he walked past your desk, everytime he would ask how your day was going, or he would invite you out for drinks with him and the others. You always seemed happy to see him, even on your worst days. He still remembered the time your partner cheated on you. You came into work anyways, despite the inability to not cry for more than forty-five minutes. Everyone had been avoiding your desk all day, but Rhys was late that day, and had yet to see you. When he walked past your desk on the way to his own, you looked up at him when he said hello. Your nose was red, your eyes puffy from crying, but you perked up, giving him the most earnest smile you could possibly manage at the time, something twinkling behind your eyes as you looked up at him through your tears. Even then, with your face blotchy and tear-stained, he still felt his world stop when you looked at him. Maybe they were right, maybe if he really was just himself around you, he would actually have a chance. Maybe you would like the real him, better than the over-confident facade he had built to deflect any signs of weakness. It was a survival method here at Hyperion, but you weren't a threat, right? He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his eyes glued to the side of your head as you half heartedly chewed on a carrot. He groaned and shoved himself away from the table, Vaughn clapping him on the back as he stood. He stood by the side of the table, tapping his fingers against the surface before he looked back down at his friends. Yvette motioned towards you, gesturing in your direction with a tilt of her head as Vaughn gave you the most encouraging thumbs up he could manage. Truthfully they were both terrified for him, terrified that he would throw the entire conept of 'being himself' out the window.
He exhaled slowly as he took the first few steps towards your table, and then you looked over at him. Your expression changed when you saw him, a smile grew on your face as you raised your hand slightly and offered him a small wave. Well, now there was really no turning back, you had seen him. Fuck. He smiled back at you, offering a small wave back as he slowly walked over to your table. Just be yourself Rhys, they would love the real you! Just like Vaughn and Yvette said! Rhys reasoned with himself. Yeah but they also said that last time. Remember that girl, Rhys? That they said would love the real you and instead she hated it and basically broke your heart and told you to never speak to her again? Oh. Right. That did happen. Rhys paused in the middle of the cafeteria, okay. Scratch being himself, that clearly didn't work last time, so there was no way in hell it would work now. He plastered a charismatic grin on his face and began to saunter towards your table. If only he could hear Yvette groan.
"Heeey you!" Rhys called out as he approached the other end of your table, gripping the back of the chair with his prosthetic hand.
You looked up from your paper work and smiled at him, "Hey, Rhys. What's up?"
Rhys shrugged and rested his other hand on his hip, shaking his head, "Oh yanno... Nothin much just, figured I'd come over, see how your day was going."
You opened your mouth to answer, but were cut short as the chair slid away from Rhys as he leaned on it, causing him to loose his balance and fall into a flailing pile of limbs on the tile floor. The cafeteria went silent. You scrambled from your seat and rusehd to his side, grabbing him under the arm and helping him back to his feet, trying your damn hardest to contain your laughter.
"Oh my god, Rhys!" You exclaimed as you pulled him to up to a standing position, he instantly pulled away from you, laughing in order to cover up his own embarrassment.
"haha! They must have just waxed the floors in here or something!" He reasoned as he dusted himself off. He looked for another seat, pulling it out and sitting down, looking up at you expectantly.
"Lets juuuust... forget that anyone saw that happen," Rhys seethed as you sat down across from him, smiling and shaking your head.
"I think the whole cafeteria saw you do that, Rhys," You joked as you shook your head, "are you okay though?"
You sounded so genuine when you spoke to him, looking over at him with your soft gaze. He felt his breath catch in his throat as you looked at him, like your eyes were staring directly into your soul.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he snorted, "If anything my ego is just a little bruised."
You clicked your tongue and nodded, "awe... your poor ego," you frowned, "anything I could do to help?"
This is it. This is the moment right here, he had to go for it! The worst you could do is say no, and you didn't seem like the kind to kick him when he was already down.
"Well we could-"
You spoke before he could finish, "Fuck?"
His entire face turned red, his eyes wide as he stared at you in shock as you looked at him with an expression that made him believe you were dead serious. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.
"H-huh?" He finally managed to spit it out.
You shrugged, "I don't know. You always flirt with me, I figured that's what you wanted to do!"
"Y-you wanna..." He trailed off as you nodded.
"Yeah, you seem to like me and well..." You trailed off as your cheeks were tinted pink, "I mean I really like you so... whatya say?"
"Yes! I say yes!" Wow, could he sound anymore enthusiastic?! Pathetic Rhys, "I mean- I was really just thinking dinner and drinks at first... I didn't think we would just jump right into it..."
You smiled at him, gathering your papers as you got ready to return to your desk. You stood, tucking the papers under your arm and smiling down at him, "Alright then, drinks and dinner it is."
Find tags, notes, details on requests and other chapters here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34327927/chapters/101159853?view_adult=true
#borderlands 3#borderlands#tales from the borderlands#rhys the company man#rhys strongfork#rhys x reader#Rhys/reader#Rhys strongfork/reader#you will always be home#popdrabbles
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Cuddles
Alastor x Reader (QP)
You were always respectful of the fact that Alastor didn't like physical touch that he didn't initiate. You never asked why, never tried to force him otherwise, never even considered trying to touch him without his consent. This remained true for all the years you'd known him.
But sometimes it got really fucking difficult.
After a long day of work, then chores, then helping with the hotel, you were absolutely exhausted. And you still had dinner to look forward to. As much as you loved Al, his need for dinner formality really got on your nerves sometimes. At least the food was good.
Luckily, there was a little time where you could escape to your room. Closing the door behind you, you kicked off your shoes and dramatically collapsed onto the bed. As soon as your body hit the mattress, you wanted to stay there for the rest of eternity.
But that wasn't an option.
Groaning, you decided it wouldn't hurt to close your eyes for a moment. Besides, Alastor would want you to be lucid for dinner. Closing your eyes for a second would help.
"Ah, there you are." Distantly, you heard Alastor poke his head in the room. "I would like your input on supper, if you don't mind."
Unable to muster words, you made some unintelligible noises into the bed, curling up more with the blankets. Alastor's footsteps were muffled by the carpet, so you didn't know he was standing right next to you until he spoke.
"Seriously, darling, it is much too early to be sleeping. Don't be so dramatic."
A hand fell on your shoulder, probably to try and take the blankets off you. However, in your half-awake stupor, you shifted to grab the hand, pulling it towards you in an effort to pull some comfort out of it.
Your brain didn't compute what you'd just done for a full 30 seconds, until, suddenly, it hit you. Despite your exhaustion, you immediately let go of Alastor's hand and jerked to a sitting position.
"Al, I'm so, so sorry," you said, your voice sounding more tired than anything else. You ignored the way your eyes kept trying to close, Alastor's figure being nothing more than a red blur in front of you. "I didn't mean to. Give me a minute, I'll be down to help."
Alastor hummed, the contemplative hum you've learned to differentiate over time. Vaguely, you were aware that Alastor's smile softened a bit.
"I can spare ten minutes," Alastor finally said. "Move over, if you please."
You stared at him, blinking tiredly, struggling to understand what was happening.
Expectantly, Alastor motioned to the bed. "Nine minutes and thirty-five seconds."
Then it kicked in. Hastily, you moved over to the other side of them bed, giving enough room for Alastor to sit down with his back against the headboard.
Blankets curled around your shoulders, you sat there, hesitating.
"You may." Alastor answered the unspoken question. "For eight minutes and fifty-two seconds."
It was impossible to deny the smile that grew on your face as you crawled into Alastor's lap, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes. Gently, Alastor wrapped his arms around you, holding you.
Wrapped in blankets, leaning into Alastor's solid body, the darkness behind your eyelids enveloped you. It felt like you were floating, just your and Alastor, and nothing could ever harm you ever again. As long as you kept your breathing steady, everything would be okay.
Everything would be okay.
You were right; just closing your eyes for a few minutes helped immensely. It was even better that it was spent with one of your favorite people in all of Hell. And if Alastor "accidentally" forgot to keep track of the time, extending your cuddle for an extra two minutes, you weren't going to say anything.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin alastor#cuddles#reluctant cuddles#fluff#rhys-writes#alastor x reader queerplatonic
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wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.
You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind.
Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body.
If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber.
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.
"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.
𓇢𓆸
Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.
The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
𓇢𓆸
Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too.
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger.
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you.
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms.
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were.
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
𓇢𓆸
As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”
Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them.
“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.
No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.
A glow they were forever grateful for.
a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#feyre cursebreaker#feyre archeron#rhys acotar#cassian#nesta acosf#mor acotar#amren acotar#nyx archeron#acotar series#inner circle
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, BANNING THEM FROM INTIMACY
☀︎ — summary: you let them know they’re not allowed to touch you in any way, shape or form. How do they react!
☀︎ — warnings: 18+, nsfw, az being a slut as per usual, cassian being yummy, touchy needy fae males, slight dumbification in lucien’s
☀︎ — amara’s note: lucien was my fav one to write omgggg, also i hope u sluts enjoy😈😈😈😈 also enjoy while i work with tutor az👀👀
RHYSAND
“You’re putting me on a ban? You can’t be serious.”
“Nuh-uh Rhys, you flirted with that girl so have fun by yourself for the unforseeable future.”
Rhysand didn’t actually flirt with anyone, he was being his usual self and the way the girl was leaning towards him made you angry so you just blamed him instead
He gets through the first few days calmly although he is mildy irritated. Especially when Cassian and Azriel tease him about it.
“So no sexy time for you Rhysie, that must suck,” Cassian says as he ties his hair back.
“Well, not really much sucking these days, right?” Azriel snickers, getting ready for the inevitable fight
Rhysand takes out his frustration on them for their smart little comments.
Rhysand has quite a high libido so that man usually fucks you good atleast once a day even when you’re both busy.
“Darling, please forgive me. I will never do it again. Tell me what I can do to earn your forgiveness.”
He begs and begs because he’s going a bit crazy
In the end, it takes him only three days for you to forgive him and lift the ban. The man is charming and seduces you into dropping the ban
The second you drop the ban, he grabs your waist, throws you over his shoulder and winnows to the cabin where he fucks you for a week straight.
“That oughta put that nasty idea out of your head forever” he says, patting your head while smiling at your ruined self. Mascara running, laboured breathing, and a pounding heart is your only answer
Yeah this man wrecks you and you never pull this stunt again…
YUMMM MHE IS SO DELICIOUS 👹👹👹👹
ERIS
“You may not touch me or have sex with me in any way until I say you can.”
He narrows his eyes as he slightly smiles when you announce a ban on all intimate activities for the unforseeable future.
“Is that so?”
You cross your arm on your chest, lifting your chin in defiance.
“Yes, that’s right. Since you want to entertain Nesta Archeron, you may not be in my vicinity.”
You are being waaaaaay too dramatic. He didn’t even spare her a single glance until you pointed to her. Nothing at all happened, I mean the male didn’t even know she was at the ball until you told him.
Nesta walked up and was a bit too close to him and even though Eris moved to your side, giving her an unamused look, you were still irritated
And since you couldn’t take it out on her, you take it out on Eris.
But Eris knows what you’re doing, he knows how extremely dramatic you are being, so he just lets you cool off, let’s you huff and puff around the house
You are a mess. An absolute mess
You find yourself longing for Eris's touch, even just a simple headpat from him would send you into cardiac arrest.
The fact that you lasted an entire week is insane bc you’re both touching each other in some way all the time
When you’re lounging; his head rests on your chest, and you lovingly massage his scalp, running your fingers through his hair. Alternatively, he pulls you closer to his body under a warm blanket, nestled in his neck, while he warms his hands for you, acting as your personal heater.
When you’re in public; he always has a hand on your lower back, waist or you walk hand in hand. You also wrap your hands around his biceps, caressing the arm when you feel tired
When you’re in a meeting; your hands naturally seek each other under the table. Whenever one of you gets heated or irritated, the other soothes them by rubbing their thumb on the back of their hand, offering quiet support.
After a week of torture you finally breakdown in his office, storming in and placing your palms on his wooden desk. He looks up at your curiously, an eyebrow raised.
“Okay, I can’t do this anymore, please touch me, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Eris is just as desperate as you are but he wants to drag this out just a tiny bit more before giving in
“Interesting. You initiated this ban, yet you’re the one who can’t follow through? You were fine without me for a whole week, I think you’ll manage another one.”
Your jaw drops in disbelief. Another week? No, you’d rather die.
“I think not. I will beg if I have to. Touch me, please. I will probably die if I go another week without you.”
He leans back in his chair, puts his arms behind his head as his arms bulge. One of your biggest weaknesses
“Normally, I’d make you beg but I missed you aswell. Come here.”
You damn near cry in relief when you sit in his lap and nestle in his arms. His warm hands rub your back and thighs, making you impossibly more relaxed
“This was one of the dumbest things I have ever done. Never again.” You whine against his neck, kissing it over and over again.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, emotional as he press a kiss to your head
AZRIEL
“Okay.”
That is all he says when you tell him your banning him from touching you. Honestly, you thought he’d have a bigger reaction so you start getting second thoughts.
But you thug it out bc you still want to prove a point even though he looks super unbothered
In reality, Azriel is panicking on the inside
Although he knows he can physically withstand sex, it’s the love and intimacy he misses the most
So he does the one thing he knows you won’t resist
He sluts around the house
Okay, he walks around shirtless or with super tight black shirts thst highlight years and years of working out
Azriel knows you’re weak for his muscles and body so flaunting it around is step one of his plan.
Step two of his plan draws him extremely close to you, mere inches away. He leans in as you speak, exploiting yet another weakness.
He wears delicious colognes that make your eyes flutter. He wears chains around his neck and leans over you.
Azriel’s final and ultimate slut move is waking up in the morning, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he speaks. It's all it takes for you to cave in to his charms.
You find yourself the one begging for his touch, unable to resist the longing for his embrace. You babble about never wanting to go so long without feeling his presence again.
CASSIAN
Cassian’s love language is most definitely touch so when you tell him that he is banned from here on out, he freezes.
Like it doesn’t make any sense, he actually can’t grasp the concept.
“What does that even mean? What do you mean I can’t touch you?”
Tha man is flabbergasted
He will follow you around, apologizing for his behavior over and over. You’ve already forgiven him since it was a minor thing but he doesn’t know that
Cassian starts carrying a pillow with him, imagining it is you. He craves touch, and if it's from a damn pillow, he'll gladly take it
He pouts as you try to surpress a smile at his expression. He’ll give you puppy eyes in hopes of you dropping the annoying ban
Eventually, Cassian levels up and becomes extra touchy with the inner circle instead, seeking any physical touch
A confused Azriel gets extra pats on the shoulder, but Cassian's hand lingers, staying put longer than usual, leaving Azriel puzzled by the sudden change in his behavior.
An amused Rhysand receives more hugs, but Cassian's hugs linger, holding him close as if imagining you there for a moment.
Obviously, nothing compares to you, and the whole situation only makes Cassian more irritated.
No sex is just unbearable. Jerking off isn’t fun at all and he can count on one hand how many times he had to use his hands since you got together
After only one and a half day you start to miss his touches and get jealous that your friends is getting his warm touches instead.
You’re also very horny and since you and cassian have a VERY active sex life, it makes a lotta sense. This male usually fucks you 1-2 times everyday, and I mean EVERY day
Seriously not a day goes by without some action, whether it be fingering, bjs, handjobs, nipple play, him eating you out, 69 just anything really
When you finally, after 1,5 excruciating days let him touch you, he smiles and thank the Mother then drags you to your bedroom
Y’all don’t come out for a solid 2-3 business days
Ever since the ban, he is stuck to you like glue fr
LUCIEN
Lucien is very calm for someone who isn’t allowed to touch his mate
“You’re banning me from touching you? That’s really cute,” Lucien remarks casually, a hint of amusement in his tone as he takes a sip of his peppermint tea.
You furrow your brows, pouting. “I'm not joking, Lucien. If you touch me, I'll scream,” you assert firmly, crossing your arms over your chest. With lifted chin and proud gaze, you stand your ground, making your new and temporary boundaries clear.
Lucien chuckles softly. “Yeah? You’ll scream? Love, you scream real nice for me when I touch you anyway, so what's really new?” he teases, getting closer to you.
“I mean, do you really want me to not touch you?” Lucien asks, his voice low as he inches closer and closer until your faces are mere inches apart.
He gets so close, his warmth leaving you breathless. His soft, plump lips barely brush against yours, the touch so light it's almost not there.
“Tell me, my sweet, perfect girl,” he murmurs, his breath mingling with yours, “who put this idea in your head?”
You are barely functioning, your words stuck in your throat as you struggle to come up with a response.
“I know you're too out of it to properly respond to me right now, and it's okay,” Lucien says gently, his tone teasing. “I guess using your brain is a tough task, hm?”
You nodded absentmindedly, distracted by his charming smile
“M'sorry, Lucien,” you mumble, your words breathless and slightly slurred. “It was just a joke. I really want you to touch me,” you admit, your voice trailing off as you become increasingly dumbfounded in his intoxicated presence.
He tsked with mock sympathy. “It's okay, sweetheart,” he said gently, gripping your chin. “Let’s not say things we don’t mean the next time, okay?”
“Okay, I won’t.” you say blushing at the proximity before giving him a sweet sweet kiss on the lips. Lucien pulls you in closer and y’all fuck right there on the kitchen table but damn it was good
Yeah, banning Lucien from intimacy will never work
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either.
You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.
[this is long. i'm talking 5k words long so i've split it into two parts. anyway, azriel is the best bat boy and no i won't hear anyone out. i'm so excited to write for him and hope you enjoy. it's very angsty but that's what i love. i hope i can write more for him and maybe other characters if you like. it's been a while since i've actually read the series so if any information is wrong, do let me know. also it was my first time using the term y/n and yes, i cringed NOT PROOF READ... enjoy]
warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.
Part 2 soon…
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The first, was the worst...
You were Rhys's half sister, the bastard daughter of his father. But when your mother had died giving birth to you, Rhysand's mother took you in and raised you with your brother and sister. You were so little and adorable that your sister loved you at once. Rhys did to, at some point of your life, you were sure he actually cared about you.
But when his mother and sister had died, his eyes shifted, he started to look at you with contempt. After all, you were only his half-sister. The worst half. He only kept you around because it's what his mother would have wanted.
And because there was no way Cassian and Azriel would ever let anything happen to you.
Besides, Rhysand knew when to use you.
Although Azriel was his spymaster, you were pretty good at staying swift-footed too. And you were frankly, very terrifying when you wanted to be.
You tread with power through the war camps, all of them looking at you as you went. All of their gazes wrecked with a predatory gaze. They either wanted to have their way with you, or kill you. Or both.
Rhys had said you could handle it, it was only supposed to be a check in. Cassian hadn't liked it, neither had Mor but it was Azriel who had almost- and for the first time- disobeyed his high lord to accompany you. But no, your brother wanted you to do this alone, so alone you would.
Just to show him you could.
'I can come with you,' Azriel had said, standing in your room as you tied your boots up. 'I won't even have to be seen.' At that, his shadows wrapped up your calf.
You smiled at them, as if they were his own pet. 'I'll manage just fine. Besides, i'm sure that's what Rhys wants, me needing a man.'
It had done nothing to calm your friend. The worry was still stuck between his brows, marring his handsome features. You'd held his cheeks, your wings hiding the two of you. His large ones (enough to swallow the both of you) over-lapped yours.
It was the last time you'd feel your wings.
The war camp wasn't as easy as you'd hoped. It was terror and horror in a place. You'd been to the court of nightmares, you'd gone to the slaughter of the spring court after they killed your family. But this, this was hell of another kind.
You had no idea how many days you'd been locked up, wrists bound in chains and hanging from the cell roof above you. Blood rolled down your arms from the force you'd tried to use to get them out. Your eye was swollen shut and your body trembled in pain.
All because they wanted to know your brothers secrets, and you wouldn't budge.
Your check was only supposed to be a day, but you were sure it had been longer. Days of endless pain and torture. Your uniform hung in rags of stripped material, your hair matted with blood and hiding your face.
You'd used the last of your energy to keep your walls up. You weren't anyone's mate, you didn't have anyone on the other end trying to feel what you felt. But should Rhys come looking (though you doubted it) you didn't want him to feel it. You didn't want anyone in your mind.
The gates opened with a sickening clash.
One of the Illyrian's knelt in front of you, his wings hiding those coming in behind you. 'Listen sweetheart. I don't want to make this any harder than it's about to get. All you have to do is tell us your brother's hide outs.'
You grit your teeth, staring down at the ground.
'So loyal, to a man who doesn't care if you live or die.'
Suddenly, your wings twitched as hands grasped them. Brute hands, the sort you wouldn't want touching any part of you.
Fear spiked in you, horror twisting your gut. 'What are you doing?'
'I told you I didn't want to get things messier, darling.'
You whipped your head from side to side, trying and failing to get a look at the assailants behind you. Your wings were being held apart, no matter how hard you tried to bat them away. You knew the sort of people they were, and what they did to girls like you.
That's when the begging started. 'No, no please. Anything. I'll do anything! Beat me, kill me, rape me, not my wings, please!'
'Anything?' the bastard asked, tongue poking out from his lips. 'Then tell me where your lord's hideouts are?'
You should betray him, you thought. He would never lose his wings for you. Perhaps it was stubbornness that kept you from, or maybe you were clinging to the last bit of love you want from him.
The bastard scoffed, 'anything, she says. Your brother has his own bitch wrapped around his finger.'
That's when they started hacking at your wings.
Your screams tore through your throat, blood spitting and dripping down your chin. Tears soon joined when they hacked away at the bone, the membrane, the flesh of it all. The three of them worked through your screams and your tears and your pain, tearing and cutting at it like it was nothing more than paper.
Not your whole life.
Let them hear you. You hoped your brother heard you, you hoped all and every court heard the pain.
Eventually, even you couldn't keep screaming. The only sound was the hacking away at your wings and the drops of blood.
'Now look at these beauties. I've got a perfect spot on my wall for these.'
They left you after that. There wasn't much more damage they could do. It already felt like they'd destroyed your life. You had never really thought about your wings, they were just part of you, as much as your wit or hair was. But they'd took it and now, you felt empty. Never would you fly with Azriel again, or use your wings to smack Cassian over the head.
Rhys, your dear brother, had took that from you.
The days blended in together after that. You were pooled in your own tears and blood, vomiting up anything they forced down your throat. No, they'd made it very clear they didn't want you dead. They just took pride in making it feel like you were.
At some point, you'd stopped reacting to the gate opening. You let them do whatever they wanted with you. Your wrists were still chained, arms still hanging up, your clothes hanging on your thin body in strips of dirt.
'No...' you heard a mumble. 'What have they done to you?'
Suddenly, the chains gave way and you lurched forward, with no strength to catch you. Luckily, you didn't have to, as strong and warm arms pulled you into his chest.
'Hey, wake up, look at me, dammit.'
Azriel.
You'd know the voice in the darkest days, in the pit of your worst nightmare you'd know.
You try to speak but your head's heavy, your lips are stone and your arms can't lift to hold onto him. You're exhausted, you're dying. The only thing you could do use all your strength to try to open your eyes.
'Please, please, look at me. You have to look at me,'
You were trying, you wanted to tell hm, snap at him, but you couldn't.
You felt Azriel shake, or maybe you were. Then, there was wet drops landing on your cheeks- you flinched.
'I'm sorry, i'm sorry. Rhys! Rhys! hurry up, please!' he was screaming. You'd never heard him scream before.
You heard the rush of feet at the cell doors, you knew it was your brother. You knew it from the presence of him, from the shuffling of feet and chocked sob. Your brother didn't cry, least of all for you.
'Her wings, oh mother, her wings,' said Azriel, his voice barley above that of a whisper.
Your wings. You didn't need reminding. They were gone, long and far gone. You were without a part of you, the very part of your soul that loved to be free. Never would you watch the stars up close or fly over everyone. Never race Cassian or make jokes with Az.
No, this would destroy you.
'y/n,' your half-brother called. 'No, y/n. Can you hear me?'
Your lips parted, mumbling. 'Hurts.'
Azriel's grip on you tightened. 'I know, we're gonna get you out of here, just hold on for me.'
You wanted to tell him you would hold on, you'd always need to hold on to him. That, no matter what he asks, you'd do it. To kill, to live, to breathe, to die.
And that's when it clicked. Amongst all the pain and the doubt. In your blood soaked clothes. In the fear you wouldn't make it, there was a tug. Weak and one-sided, but there. You knew you'd be safe with Azriel, knew you would always be with him.
Mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The pain subsided to a dull ache, there and beating but not excruciating. You were warm and covered in a soft material. Nothing like the cell you'd been kept in. Your fingertips sunk into something soft- a bed. Your bed. It was familiar in its lavender scent to you and the silk wrapped around you gave you some semblance of warmth.
Your wings.
Even coming to consciousness was difficult. You were exhausted but light, without the weight of wings holding you down. You'd never realised how much you needed to feel that weight, to feel pulled down in order to be free.
Gone, all gone.
Your hand twitches around something cold, a shadow holding your hand, creeping up your side.
'You're awake, thank the couldron.'
It wasn't Azriel, master of the shadows. It wasn't your mate. Mate. The word replayed like a terrible song in your mind.
How dare the mother do this to Az. How dare he- nothing but loyal and kind- get stuck with a person made in darkness, who bled shadows, who's heart was so full of hate there wasn't room for love. They'd cursed Az, with you.
But luckily it wasn't him, it was Rhysand.
'It really happened,' you whispered, voice hurting from the screams.
He sighed. 'I'm sorry, i'm so sorry. We-we thought you weren't going to make it, you'd lost so much blood.'
In spite of the pain in your shoulders, you made a shift, turning from him as he ranted on about your condition.
'y/n... sister, please,' he said. He'd never called you sister before. He'd always been content to treat you just like you worked for him.
'Leave me alone.' you couldn't bare to look at him, couldn't bare to face him. The shadows at your hand grew heavier, as if more were piling on. You stretched your fingers away from them, trying to get them off you.
'Are you in any pain?' asked Rhys.
'Get out,' you mumbled.
The end of your bed dipped where Rhys settled, hand splayed on the covers, begging for your hand. 'y/n.'
'Get out!' you snapped, body tense and straining. You felt your wounds open up, blood wetting the bandage around you. But you didn't care. You'd happily bleed if you couldn't fly. A part of you, sick part of you wanted to be left there. It would be better than false sympathy.
Be better than your mate being disgusted.
'Get out!' you yelled again, voice tearing through an aching throat.
'I just want to help you! please, let me help you!' said Rhys, standing from your bed and walking around, trying to face you.
'I don't want your help!' you screamed. You reached for the closest thing you could, a jug of water and chucked it toward him. You aim was terrible, marred with pain and exhaustion. 'Get out!'
Though hesitant, Rhysand slowly started walking back to your door. He did it all looking at you, his hands out to show he wasn't gonna hurt you, but you didn't care. You went for the glasses next and chucked them but they landed against the door which he disappeared through.
Before it slid close you caught sight of Cassian , Mor and Azriel. All crowded, all waiting to see you.
You'd be happy if you never let them see you again.
'Can we see her?' you hear Mor ask.
'Give her time,' said Rhys.
The shadows at your hand grew heavier, darker, tighter.
'Go away!' you yelled at them. To anyone else, you probably looked crazy, screaming to darkness. But the shadows understood. They departed, slithering away and under the crack of your door where you could see the shadows of feet.
Tumbling from bed, you stumbled over and locked the door, leaning on it to and catching your breath. Your nightgown was starting to get sticky with blood all over again. When you closed your eyes, you pictured the cell, the rough hands holding you down, the chain keeping you up.
And the pain, it all washed over you. The hacking at your back, the sting of a slap. It hit you like a tone of bricks as you slid to the floor.
There was a knock, rattling the door.
'y/n,' Cassian. 'Please let us in.'
Us. You felt him on the other side. Your mate, his presence lingering. His shadows under the door, wanting to come in but keeping their distance.
He didn't know. It hadn't snapped for him, you could tell. It was one tug on your end, a chord in your heart. At least he couldn't feel what you did. At least you could shoulder it alone.
'Please.' his voice was almost your un-doing. He sounded so sad, so desperate. It hurt you just to think you were hurting him.
Tears streamed down your face as your curled your fingers into a tight fist. You assumed Mor had left with Rhys, leaving you there with the males.
Cass was always like a brother to you. Granted- a brother you had slept with once or twice- but he was your best friend. You'd always been close to him. But you'd always been good, a happy person.
You couldn't be that for them now, perhaps ever again.
It lasted like that for hours. Cassian and Az begging to come in, you curling into a ball with tears down your cheeks and blood down your back.
Eventually, they gave up. You couldn't hear them anymore and the shadows of their boots had disappeared.
Except Azriel's shadows that still lingered under your door. Maybe he'd ordered them to be there while they left you.
Eventually, you managed to find your footing on shaking legs. Your room was large, one of the largest. It was just as much a mess as it was when you'd left for you mission, clothes thrown over the place, books propped open on the pages you'd left them on. Everything was the same but could never be again.
It took you longer than you'd care to admit to get to your windows and throw the curtains close. Candles light at your request, the house looking after you as it had since you were a child.
You caught sight of yourself in the full length mirror. It seemed smaller, everything in the room felt too large and you too small, as if you were being swallowed by the expanse of it.
Your frame was small in the mirror, your hair disarrayed. Your eyes were red and shutting of their own accord from the tears that had drained you. The starving in the cells had made you look weak, made you feel weak.
And your back. There was no more looming black figures there, no more fluttering. There was just nothing. In spite of the ache as you lifted your arm, you felt around your back, feeling the hitch there, the lump from where they'd been torn from you.
You cry. You sob. You scream.
The scars were long and the nightdress was sticking to you by the blood you'd shed. All you could do, was hold yourself up as your body wracked with tears.
A breeze came from your windows, shadows tugging at the curtains.
You felt him before you saw him. You wanted to tell him to leave you but you couldn't talk without chocking. Without feeling like you couldn't breath.
Azriel had you in your arms before your knees could hit the ground. He fell with you, softening your body on the floor. His arms held you into his chest, his legs caging you into his body. His head rested on yours as he held you. He didn't try to talk, he didn't try to help. It was just him, you and his shadows.
✩���˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel remembered dozing off with you, his head on yours. His arms holding you into him, as if it was up to him to keep the sadness away and take it for you.
Afterall, you were his best friend. He should have been there for you, and he'd failed terribly by letting you get hurt and your wings stolen from you. He could hate himself every day for it, for letting you down. But it would never amount to what you felt for yourself and that killed him.
He could see it in the way you cried, in the way you were already keeping everyone out. He'd rather die than let you go through all the pain alone.
When his hands had been scarred by his brothers, you'd help heal him, tell him about everything he still was and all the power he still held in his hands. In the worst days, when he didn't let anyone touch him, he let you.
It was always you.
Azriel wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, or how deep. He was sure he was still with you, still in your bed.
His shadows crept up on him, engulfing him slowly and whispering to him. Your name, just your name on repeat. It was enough to lull him back into sleep, to keep him calm.
Gone. Missing. y'n. Roof.
He shot up and ran fastest than he ever had in his life. It was as if he'd never been asleep but had been fighting a battle with the way he raced over.
He burst through the doors, the cold hight air hitting him.
You stood facing the stars, your bloody back to him. It wasn't as much blood as when he'd found you, but it was still enough to put a lump in his throat.
Immediately his shadows fell to you, cascading down your body and wrapping around your waist. There was a breeze in the air, pushing your hair back and exposing more signs of the pain and torture you must have gone through.
'I'm not gonna jump, if that's what you're thinking,' you said. You didn't even have to turn to him. The shadows probably told you enough.
'Why are you up here?' he asked, walking to you slowly and with careful steps. As if every step closer could you push you away from him.
'I'll never feel the win properly again,' you answered.
Azriel gulped down his own pain. You’d never sounded so small. ‘Can you get away from the ledge?’
'I'm not on the ledge.'
'You're too close for my liking.'
'Leave if you don't like it.'
'Don't do this,' he said.
'Do what?' you asked, folding your arms over your chest. You were cold, out in the hight but you wanted to see the stars. Needed to see them.
'Make me leave. Make everyone leave you. I know that's what you're doing. It's what you do every time,' you could feel him dawning closer. His shadows were all around you, almost drowning you.
‘Every time,’ you scoff, stepping down and turning on him. ‘It’s not every day you lose your wings Azriel! But don’t let me stop you from leaving, flap them and go!’ You yelled, unable to stop yourself, no matter how hard you tried. You didn’t want to hurt him, you just wanted to be alone.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
'You jump and I’ll catch you,' he said. He was a step away, he could just reach out and touch, just a gentle caress. 'I swear it, whatever you do, I’ll follow. I’m not letting you get away.’
He watched your back shudder as he reached out, brushing knuckles against your shoulder blade. He heard your sharp inhale follow.
'Don’t think I won’t follow, y/n.'
Finally, you turned around in his shadows. You couldn’t meet his eyes but at least you could face his chest.
His hands were gentle on your shoulder as he rubbed it gently. 'Can I get Madja to clean you up?' He asked.
You nodded as he led you away. You truly did not deserve your mate.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Fifty-two years later...
When Amarantha had trapped the high lords of Prythian under the mountain, it hadn't be a conscious choice to follow your half-brother down. How Amarantha had allowed it, you weren't sure, but perhaps she wanted to use you just like her brother, or she thought it would bring more pain for him to see you suffer under there too.
You and Rhysand had barley spoke the last two years.
It had took you almost two months to heal fully enough to leave your room, another few months to face your family again. But even then, everyone knew something had changed in you. You didn't laugh as loud or smile as wide.
Rhysand was careful to ever let you out on a mission. Mor tried to take you out every night. Cassian spent all day every day with you and Azriel- he'd healed you better than any nurse.
Still, you had not told him he was your mate.
Still, you thought he wouldn't want it.
Still, you cared for your brother enough to not want him to go alone.
But being under the mountain, you could avoid your mate. At a painful price.
Until her. Rhys's mate. He hadn't shut up about her since he first met her, much to your dismay as you had to sit around and listen- having absolutely nothing better to do. And it only got worse when she turned up under the mountain. She was declaring her love for Tamlin- again, annoying your brother, and throwing Lucien into danger- which rather angered you. You had nothing against the ginger.
Rhysand had once sent you to find the girl to summon her as part of a bargain he'd made. He didn't want to go, he didn't want to look too forceful. You'd been lucky enough to find the two tangled up in each other against a cold wall, clothes ripped and hips moving together.
'Well, well well,' you'd intterupted.
Tamlin all but growled at you, but feyre was looking over you- evidently confused. She had no idea who you were. You, in your skimpy outfit that Amarantha kept you in (they all dipped low at your back, showing off your scars) and your eyes that were like a night sky.
'Amarantha's looking for her pet and Rhysand is looking for his. Honestly, i'd be a bit more worried if I were you. You know, considering Lucien still has an eye to lose.'
The two parted with your words as you sent Tamlin back to his master, the high lord glaring at you as you went. While Feyre tried to fix herself.
'Rhysand is over there, better not keep him waiting.' That was the first time you met her, having no idea how much trouble she'd be worth. The family that she'd become.
But Rhysand made sure you knew it all. From when the bond snapped in him and he'd stumbled. He ranted and ranted as they climbed out.
If only you were so talkative about Azriel. If only you could talk about him with your brother. But you'd tried not to painfully think about him. Climbing out of the mountain. It was all you could think of.
Maybe he'd have forgotten you? it had been fifty years. He'd probably realised how happy he could be without having to take care of you.
Rhys was allowed out of the mountain, he'd felt the breeze in his hair but you hadn't in fifty long years. You stood there a moment, bathing in the warmth as everyone left, as everyone ran off for their families and courts and the war that was inevitable. Eventually, Rhys offered you his arm. 'Shall we go home?'
He winnowed you there, on the balcony of your home. In a cloud of black smoke, the two of you appeared.
He went first, slipping through the doors slowly- like it could all be taken from them any minute.
You were hesitant, taking a moment to glance at the landscape behind you. It hadn't changed, not at all. The mountains were still there, everyone was still alive. Your home. In the last years it hadn't felt like home, but how could anywhere ever feel so close in your heart.
When you could find your feat again, you managed to slip through the doors. You were suddenly aware of how little clothing you were wearing, just enough to cover your chest and run down your legs. A chill settled down your back, your scars would be on show. What a way to great them all after fifty years.
Mor had her arms around Rhys's shoulders, crying into his shoulder.
Behind them you caught Amren, with something like tears in her eyes. You were just about to tease her before a body barrelled into yours in a blur of red syphons and your feet were lifted from the ground.
'Cassian.'
His arms tightened around you. You shoulder started to dampen with tears, his tears. The last time you'd seen him cry around you was when he'd seen a dog with only three legs. 'I'm keeping you on a leash from now on, stupid idiot.'
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, a smile gracing your lips. 'Is that a promise?'
He held you longer, tighter, not daring to let you go but at least settling you on the ground. He sighed against your head, controlling himself. 'He's missed you, you know,' he said. He was the only one you'd told, about your mate. 'Now that you're back, tell him. He deserves to know.'
Cassian slowly pulled away, holding you at arms length and smiling at you. He kissed your cheeks and then your forehead before parting to Rhysand.
Mor approached you next, slapping you in the arm.
'Ow!'
'Why would you follow him?' she snapped.
You blinked at her before she took you by the arm she'd slapped and embraced you, like a sister would. You dared not looking over her shoulder to find the one who hadn't come to you. Maybe Cass had got it wrong...
Mor pulled away, wiping at her eyes.
Azriel was as beautiful as the day you left him. His hair was the same length, he was the same height. He was just as you left him. It was hard to tell fifty years had passed on him.
And inside of you, tugging in your soul and heart you felt the familiar string of gold throbbing. But you still didn't feel that tug. You'd hoped it would have faded from you after half a year separated. Or at least have snapped for him. But no such relief.
He approached you, slowly. As if he was scared of scaring you away. But you just stood there.
His arms were delicate and soft around you as he brought you into his chest. He still smelled the same, cedar wood and shadows. Shadows that wrapped around you, shielding you from the rest of the room. They caressed you, head to two.
You held onto each other for what could have been another fifty years, but this time, it wasn't so painful.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Although nobody wanted to part after yours and Rhysand's return, you were exhausted. A trip to Rita's could wait another night or two. The only thing you wanted to do was hide in your room.
Strangely, your room looked lived in. As if somebody had moved in since you'd left. A moment of anger replaced grief. Had they brought someone else and given them your room? but then you smelt it, Az.
Lying in bed that night, exhausted, you couldn't find sleep. You closed your eyes and pictured Amarantha. You'd never been afraid of her, you weren't afraid of anything. But you re-played the horrors. Watching servants beat Feyre, watching Amarantha use your brother and on the occasion, even you. How she flaunted. How the most powerful lords were weak.
Under your door, shadows seeped in, rushing across the room to you. You smiled, watching your hand disappear in their darkness.
'Azriel?' you called.
There was shifting on the other side of the door before he slipped in, clicking it shut behind him.
You sat up in bed, shadows moving with you. 'Couldn't sleep?'
He wondered in, looking around your room. 'Sleeping's been... hard.'
You rolled over, opening the blanket and nodding your head. You couldn't think about the bond, not yet. Not while he looked so.... ruined. Beautiful- the most beautiful person in the world, but sad. As he climbed in next to you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped and his wings too.
His eyes scanned over you. You were in a thin and silk night dress that only brushed your knees, but the way he looked at you, mother you could've been naked. 'Fifty years,' his voice sounded barley controlled. 'Fifty years. You followed your brother down for fifty years? Why would you do that?'
You gulp. 'I would've done it for any of you. Except maybe Amren, she'd probably enjoy the peace for fifty years.'
You go to brush your hair back but Azriel seizes your wrist. He was angry. That's why his voice was rough and his chest rising and falling with barley controlled emotions. Could he feel it? your nerves, your lying?
'You left. You should've stayed, y/n, you know Rhysand didn't want you under there with him,' he said. 'For fifty years I haven't been able to sleep through a night thinking about the pain you must have been going through. After I swore to keep you safe, after I promised to catch you every time!'
'You couldn't have stopped me. You didn't promise, Az.'
His grip grew tighter. 'It went without saying.'
You looked around his eyes, seeing the pain and grief there also. Slowly, you brought your other hand up. He flinched as you took his cheek but eventually settled as your thumb ran over his cheekbone. 'I won't leave again, ok? I promise.'
He gulped, letting go of your wrist and looking down. 'I slept here,' he mumbled, but just loud enough to hear you. 'I couldn't sleep in my room. This was the only place I could rest.'
Your heart stuttered. Your hand dropped from his cheek. This man was your mate. Your mate. Your only love, whether or not the cauldron deemed it.
Azriel took your hesitation. 'I-i'm sorry, you probably didn't want to hear that. I've probably ruined your one place of peace-'
'Stay,' you said, before you could think of what you were asking. 'Sleeping wasn't exactly easy under the mountain either. I just trust I won't have to put a wall of cushions between us.' as if you wanted that. As if you haven't thought about his calloused hands all over you.
Azriel smiled and stayed the night.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
The third time he almost lost you, broke him...
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
#acotar#azriel#cassian#rhysand#rhys acotar#feyre archeron#tamlin#lucien vanserra#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x female!reader#cassian x reader#books and reading#booktok#angst#azriel x cassian x reader
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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
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...
#eris x reader#acotar x reader#acotar#acotar fanfiction#autumn answers#autumn writes#eris smut#eris angst#eris vanserra#eris vandaddy#azriel shadowsinger#night court#rhys acotar#rhysand#cassian acotar#cassian#cassian x reader#rhys x reader#azriel x reader#azriel smut#azriel acotar#azriel#fanfic#writing#enemies to lovers#angst#acotar smut#smut#eris acotar#eris headcanons
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💜 starshine pt. V 💜
Rhysand x Reader
part I part II part III part IV part V part VI
summary: some long overdue introductions are made.
notes: god, I can't express how fucking happy the love you show for this makes me. I'm honestly pinching myself every time I read all your messages and comments, and I'm not even sure I'm actually processing them all because it's just so completely bonkers. anyway. I'm currently planning on how to proceed with this, and you can probably expect at least a few more chapters *winks and wiggles brows*. I realised we need a few more things before this feels complete. so, here's the next part. I will not be blamed for swooning or emotional damage or anything else.
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Exhaling softly, I buried my nose in my pillow, blinking and scrunching my brows. I could feel sunlight on my face and a soft breeze brushing over my skin that smelled like sweet blooming trees and cool mornings, intertwining with another scent that surrounded me, filling my lungs, familiar and warm, causing something to flutter against my ribs.
Slowly cracking open an eye, I squinted into the sunlight filtering through high glass doors. They were opened wide, allowing the morning air to filter through the big room, and as I blinked against the sleep in my eyes and my vision became clearer, my breath hitched a little at the sight of the mountain palace in the golden morning sun.
Hiding my big yawn in my pillow, I turned my head, craning my neck. But the bed behind me was empty.
Something skipped a little in my chest, and I slowly sat up, scrunching my brows against the light and blowing a strand of hair out of my face that had fallen from my braid. Rubbing my eyes, I slid off the mattress, and my gaze flickered towards the door leading into the hall, but then I caught a glimpse at something in the big mirror, and when I turned around, I saw the person out on the balcony.
My heart moved gently in my chest, and breathing out softly, I slowly started to make my way outside.
The sun was warm, just like the stone under my bare feet as I squinted into the light, my breath hitching a little when I caught a glimpse at Velaris down in the vale, the Sidra glittering. Then my gaze turned back towards the male sitting on the ground on the terrace, right in front of a few steps leading down to another, arms resting on his knees, eyes closed as his brows crunched a little against the bright sun. His dark hair was tousled from sleep and the soft breeze, the muscles in his back shifting when he laced his fingers together, and something warm spread through my chest.
Quietly padding closer, I let myself plop down next to him on the stones heated up to by the sun, so close that our shoulders and elbows were touching when I pulled up my bare legs and wrapped my arms around my knees. Drawing up my shoulders a little, I exhaled slowly, blinking into the sun as my gaze moved over the palace stretched over the side of the mountain, the balconies and terraces, huge windows open to let in the breeze, and the city far below. Then I turned my head.
Rhys' eyes were still closed, but the crease between his brows softened as I watched. The warmth of his skin was seeping through the thin cotton of my shirt, and his scent rose into my nose with every breath.
Feeling something gently thrum against my ribs, I carefully shifted a little closer, my shoulder pressing more into his biceps. Then I turned my head back ahead, breathing in the morning air and the smell of flowers as the light wind brushed through the strands fallen from my braid and the sun warmed my skin. My nose crinkled a little as I squinted into the light, something fluttering gently against my ribs.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys blink, brows drawing together as he opened his eyes, his gaze focusing on the city below. His iris looked lighter in the sun, almost like lavender.
A muscle in his jaw shifted, then he mumbled softly: “I don't know whether I deserve this.”
The flutter in my chest turned into a soft twinge, and I felt my brows furrow gently as I looked over at him.
“Deserve what?”
Rhys stared at the palace, the city in the vale.
“All of this. The people down there. I'm not sure I deserve them.” His voice was quiet and raw when he added softly: “Not after all I did.”
The twinge in my chest sharpened, and I swallowed a little.
“Rhys?”
His head turned like my soft call of his name ripped him out of dark thoughts, and I stared at him, feeling something tighten under my ribs when I whispered: “You can't save everyone.”
Rhys stilled, and I offered him a careful, crooked smile. “I know.” I raised one shoulder in a soft shrug. “I tried.”
The male stared at me, the muscles in his cheeks shifting as he swallowed and his eyes darted over my face. I could see the pain buried deep within, felt the emotions whirling under his skin that caused my chest to ache.
“It's the best we can do.” My brows furrowed gently, something churning softly under my ribs when I whispered softly: “Try.” My gaze flickered over his face. “And you did.”
Something rose in my chest, and I pressed my shoulder into his, staring at him. “All you did was to keep them safe. Keep your family safe, your home.” I swallowed softly and mumbled: “You gave everything to protect them.”
Rhys blinked, and something within him seemed to crack when he whispered hoarsely: “What if I gave so much, I ended up broken?”
I stared at him, feeling something tug and tighten in my chest. Then I shrugged just a little, smiling softly.
“Everyone is a little broken. Some maybe more than others, but – it's hard not to. In this world, how can we be anything but?”
Rhys' lips parted, his violet eyes shimmering in the sunlight as they found mine.
“Maybe we're broken.” I felt my brows crunch softly. “But that's not what matters.” I returned his gaze, steady, calm, feeling my heart thrum against my ribs.
“What matters is what we do with the pieces. Whether we put ourselves back together or push the broken pieces away and stay broken.” I smiled, soft and crooked. “I know that mending yourself back together is scary. Because – it probably won't end up looking like before. Some pieces are missing, others are broken beyond repair.” My eyes flickered over the male in front of me, his brows crunched up like he was fighting to keep himself together, iris shimmering as his gaze darted over my face.
“But what you build from the rest is still complete.” I felt my throat tighten a little and smiled softly when I whispered: “And it can still be beautiful.”
The muscles in Rhys' jaw shifted as he swallowed harshly, his eyes a little watery as they searched mine, emotion raging deep within them.
Pressing my shoulder into his, I watched him steadily.
“You're allowed to grieve what you've lost along the way.” I suppressed the urge to swallow again, staring at him firmly as something tightened harshly in my chest. “Just never think that because you've been broken - you can't be whole again.”
Rhys' nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes tightly. My heart tilted, and quickly, before I could stop myself, I stretched.
A light shudder seemed to travel through Rhys' body when I pressed my forehead against his.
“You gave everything for them,”, I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “Nothing about that makes you less of a male.” Something skipped and tumbled in my chest, and I smiled crookedly and mumbled softly: “If anything, it makes you even more worthy of their love.”
This time, the tremble that went through Rhys' limbs was stronger. His breath hitting my skin quivered just a little, then he dropped his head forward to gently press back. His nose brushed against mine, and suddenly, my whole body tightened in a soft, sharp inhale.
My breath hitched and stilled, and Rhys tilted his head a little to repeat the soft nudge. I could feel his fingers brushing over my knuckles as the side of his thigh pressed against mine, radiating warmth through the soft material of his pants while his hair tickled my forehead and his breath danced over my skin as he slowly, gently traced his nose over mine.
Swallowing, I pulled my head back a little, feeling my heart race in my chest and something tightening and pulsing under my ribs. Then I opened my eyes, and my breath stumbled.
Rhys' iris twinkled like galaxies, hues of silver and lavender swirling in deep violet, warm and bright as his gaze pierced into mine. The breeze brushed through his tousled dark hair, blowing wisps of hair that had fallen from my braid into my face, and Rhys raised his hand, carefully brushing them away. His thumb followed the line of my cheekbone, sending tingling shivers through my body, and Rhys' throat worked like he was trying not to swallow as his eyes dragged over my face.
The rise and swell in my chest grew unbearable, and I held my breath and blinked, pulling back and smiling softly and crookedly, even though my heart was pounding against my ribs.
I prayed Rhys didn't feel it, couldn't hear the strange flutter in my breath when I turned my eyes back ahead, over the palace dipped in golden light as the sun slowly crept higher up in the sky.
I could feel Rhys' gaze on my face for another second, steady, piercing and calm. Then he turned his head back ahead. His warm shoulder pressed into mine, and I felt him exhale slowly, his skin glowing in the sun as he closed his eyes again, brows scrunching a little.
Without being able to stop myself, I let my gaze flicker towards him and over his profile; his straight nose, high cheekbones, the strand of ink black hair curved over his forehead, the rest messy and tousled -
One corner of Rhys' lips turned upwards until the ghost of a crease formed in his cheek.
“Seeing something you like?”
My heart tipped over at the sound of his deep, rich voice, and trying to ignore the small hitch in my breath, I huffed and glared at him. Rhys' smile just widened.
“You know, I'm sure none of the others would complain if you didn't, but are you going to put on pants before we go down into the city?” His eyes were still closed, lips curved upwards, but his voice sounded a little hoarse when he mumbled softly: “Or are you planning on torturing me a little more?”
My breath hitched as my gaze darted towards him, my lips parting, and Rhys opened his eyes, his iris twinkling brightly as he squinted a little against the sun, looking down at me. The breeze ruffled his hair, and his muscles moved under his sunkissed skin as he shifted a little on the spot, his bare shoulder pressing into mine. He looked dark and warm and – beautiful.
Heartwrenchingly, achingly, breathtakingly beautiful. All of him, his eyes and his smile and the curve of his jaw, the way his muscles worked his under lean sides and powerful shoulders - and everything beneath. His heart, his doubts, his dreams. And even though I had seen him since that first day, had seen all of it and more -
My heart shuddered as I felt the rise and fall under my ribs, the tingles running over my spine and how my breath hitched with every soft inhale. Felt the harsh thrum of my heart, and suddenly, something tipped over in my chest as my heart shuddered again, and my lips parted.
Rhys' brows scrunched lightly. “Starshine?”
“Hm?” My voice sounded soft, breathy as I stared at him, something fluttering wildly against my ribs.
“Are you alright?” One corner of Rhys' lips quirked, his gaze flickering over my face looking torn between amusement and concern, and I blinked and nodded quickly, turning my gaze back ahead as my heart thumped in my chest.
Something rushed through my body as I swallowed gently and felt the flutter under my ribs become more violent.
☆
Making my way through the halls of The House of Wind, I tied the sleeves of my billowing tunic that I had tucked into my leather pants which fit snugly around my legs.
I had figured they were a lot more practical for another flight than a dress.
My heart was pounding steadily against my ribs as I checked if my braid was tied off properly and frowned softly when I realized that there were little wildflowers stuck within. How had they ended up in th-
The doors opened towards a terrace, and when I raised my head, my breath hitched.
Rhys was standing in front of the carved stone balustrade, wings folded comfortably against his back, so big they almost touched the ground. He was squinting into the sunlight, looking completely relaxed, the breeze brushing through his hair.
Like he'd sensed me, he turned his head, and my breath hitched a little when his eyes met mine, deep and vibrant and slowly beginning to twinkle.
Something skipped and tumbled in my chest, and not yet ready to confront the strange sensation of a realisation that had bloomed just a little earlier, I pushed it away and jumped down the few steps, crunching my nose as I smiled sheepishly.
“This alright?”
Rhys' lips curved. “Is what alright?”
I shrugged, turning in a circle and waving a hand over my body exaggeratedly, cracking a grin. “The clothes. You know, for – whatever you have planned. Meeting your friends.” My heart skipped a little nervously as I squinted up at him, coming to a halt in front of him.
Slowly, a crease formed in Rhys' cheek, becoming deeper and deeper the more his smile grew. His eyes were sparkling when he stared down at me, his deep voice vibrating over my skin when he mumbled: “You could turn up in a duvet cover and be beautiful.”
I somehow kept myself from holding my breath even as my heart suddenly toppled, and instead managed to deadpan.
“Alright, so what I'm getting from that statement is that this isn't the right thing to wear –“
Rhys laughed, his eyes crinkling with his wide smile when he stepped forward and grinned down at me.
“You know that is not what I meant.” His iris was bright as his gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, his voice softer and steady when he said quietly: “Don't worry. You look beautiful. You always do.”
Barely suppressing the urge to swallow as my throat suddenly tightened, I stared up at him.
"And they'll love you." Rhys' violet eyes pierced mine, something rough in his voice when he mumbled: "They'd be idiots not to."
My heart dipped and swerved, and I inhaled softly and sharply before nodding lightly, feeling my lips quirk in a small, cheeky smile.
“Are you sure we can't just winnow or –“
Rolling his eyes with a grin, Rhys leaned down, and my breath got stuck in my throat with a soft sound when his arm slid around my back.
“Hold on,”, he mumbled, his breath brushing over the side of my neck, and I quickly wrapped my arm over his shoulder.
His hand slipped under my knees, then Rhys lifted me into his arms as he straightened again.
My heart skipped high into my throat when he hoisted me up a little, adjusting his grip until my body was curled into his chest. His scent filled my lungs as he squeezed me gently and looked at me, his eyes sparkling.
“Ready?”
I felt a brush of air when his wings opened, stretching wide, and quickly, I slid my arms around his shoulders, burying my face in the crook of his neck. Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I nodded, and with one mighty beat, Rhys launched into the sky.
I shrieked softly, feeling Rhys' body vibrate with his low chuckle, then we dropped into a steep dive, and I clung to his shoulders, squealing loudly.
~
I didn't know how long we were in the air. Rhys'´ wings were stretched wide and steady, carrying us lower and lower, their thin membranes in parts almost see through against the sunlight. Sometimes, he dropped a little just to hear me squeak, laughter vibrating through his chest every time he rightened us smoothly and turned into an elegant curve. I peaked over his shoulder once, only to feel my stomach turn over at the sight of the city so far below, I quickly squeezed my eyes shut again and buried my face back in the crook his neck.
Finally, Rhys caught himself out of a gentle descent, his wings beating a few times until he landed on his feet smoothly.
Slowly loosening my tight grip, I cracked open an eye, feeling a relieved breath leave me when I saw the cobblestone only a few feet beneath me.
Lifting my head, I felt my heart rise softly as I looked up the façade of the townhouse made from sandstone we'd landed in front. The sun just caught the stained glass window over the door, the smell of the rose bushes planted in the small front yard soft and sweet. The roof with a huge round window in the attic glittered in the sunlight, and the windows on the second and third floor were opened wide to let in the gentle breeze.
Rhys leaned down, letting me slide out of his arms as he placed me back on my feet. I raised my head when he straightened, and my heart lurched and tipped over when I realised we were standing chest to chest.
Rhys stilled a bit, his head dipped to look down at me, dark hair dishevelled from the flight and still looking perfectly tousled. Something closed around my throat when his eyes flickered over my face, warm and twinkling a little, and I couldn't keep myself from swallowing.
Behind me, the front door was opened, followed by a deep rumbunctious laugh, and when I quickly looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high into my throat as the source of the sound stepped into the sunlight, squinting and grinning boisterously.
The Lord of Bloodshed looked exactly like I had imagined based on the stories Rhys had told me about him. Tall; so tall he almost had to dip his head to the side to walk through the high door, wide shoulders and chest, body all corded muscle. Half of his dark hair was gathered in a bun at the back of his head, a few strands falling into his face as he walked down the steps, huge Illyrian wings tucked against his back as his grin made his eyes crinkle and caused the scar on the side of his face to shift.
He made it a few feet before noticing Rhys and me. He slowed before stilling on the spot, his grin disappearing a little as warm hazel eyes met mine.
Carefully, I smiled, soft and crooked. Behind me, I felt Rhys shift, straightening.
Another figure appeared from the hall that was dipped in shadow, though the darkness seemed to thicken a little as it shifted away from the tall male stepping into the sunshine. It didn't leave him fully, ghosting around his shoulders and the wings folded smoothly against his back, like soft whisps of darkness that followed the shadowsinger as he moved down the steps, amber eyes piercing mine.
Where the General's face was rough and more rugged, the face of the Spymaster was all sharp lines and beauty dark like death, but still, there was something gentle buried underneath as his gaze flickered over me.
“Cauldron's sake, can't you two wait?!”
The bright, warm voice drew my eyes away from the shadowsinger's, and a female appeared in the door, her scowl melting into softly widening eyes.
“Oh,”, she breathed, and I felt my lips rise into a smile without being able to help it.
The Morrigan, as Rhys sometimes called her like it was a title more than just a name, looked like sunshine. Her flowing hair really was the color of honey, her eyes a gentle warm brown, soft freckles on her nose and something like awe in her gaze.
Her lips, painted deep red, parted, but before she could say something, the Lord of Bloodshed moved. There was something strange in his eyes, something in his drawn brows as he walked towards me with big strides, and I could feel Rhys tense behind me. But before he could even open his mouth, the huge Illyrian warrior reached me.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the Lord of Bloodshed lifted me off my feet in a warm, crushing hug.
My breath hitched, and my lips parted softly when a wave of emotions crashed over me. Thankfulness and relief and pain soothed, mixed with warm vibrating affection, so strong and jumbled, a little tightness built in my throat.
He felt different than Rhys; rougher, louder and warm and full of unbridled life, and –
Something surged in my chest, and I blinked hastily against the way my eyes welled. Because the infamous Lord of Bloodshed felt kind. Kind and gentle, and good.
“Hi?”, I whispered a little hesitantly, and a soft chuckle rumbled through the huge Illyrian.
“Hi.” I heard the grin in his deep voice, warm and rumbling as he squeezed me tightly before shaking me a little and causing a soft giggle to break from my throat. Then he slowly placed me back on the ground, holding me tightly for another second before straightening up, and when I raised my head, he was beginning to smile down at me, wide and unrestrained.
Movement at the corner of my eye made me tip down my head, and something shifted softly in my chest when Morrigan sent me a smile. It was bright and beaming, but her eyes were a little watery, and she moved without hesitation, wrapping me up in a hug so tight, I held my breath.
“Hello,”, she mumbled, her warm voice a little wobbly, and my heart tightened gently as I carefully wrapped my arms around her and squeezed back. She too felt gentle and good, but vibrant, like an orchestra rising into a striking finale.
Mor kept me in a ribcrushing hug for another second before pulling back, sniffling a little as she beamed at me, and I slowly grinned back.
“So that's her.”
The voice, so deep and low, sent a light tingle down my spine, and when my gaze moved, it met the shadowsinger's, his golden eyes piercing mine.
The Lord of Bloodshed crossed his arms in front of his chest, his eyes sparkling as he sent his High Lord a shit-eating grin. “Now I get why you kept her from us.”
Rhys scowled as the tall Illyrian sent me a wink, but a few feet away, the lips of the shadowsinger curved at the corners.
“Honestly.” Mor rolled her eyes, but she looked like she was suppressing a smile. I threw Rhys a look.
You know, he's right, I get it too. I sent him a wide, cheeky grin and raised my brows. Why you thought they'd steal me away? I mean; I'd let them -
Something shifted in Rhys' eyes; a growl rumbled from his chest as he moved forward, his chest pressing into my back, and my heart skipped and my breath hitched.
Mor furrowed her brows, but her lips twitched. “Are you alright?”
Rhys huffed as he stared down at me, but it almost looked like he was pouting, so much so, something tipped over in my chest, and I started to beam up at him, wide and cheeky.
Something in Rhys' glare shifted, became soft and bright. Then he blinked, and my heart tumbled gently against my ribs when he tore his eyes away from mine and grumbled under his breath: “I just remembered why I have been putting this off for so long.”
Both Illyrians rolled their eyes in unison, the General flipping him off easily while the Spymaster's lips twitched, and Rhys returned the foul gesture before looking down at me, his eyes twinkling even though he gave a dramatic, long-suffering sigh as he raised his brows.
“Starshine, meet my irritating and nosy family. These are Mor, Cassian and Azriel.”
Mor beamed at me, Azriel dipped his chin lightly, and Cassian bowed his head with a cheeky wink. I slowly grinned back, feeling something hop against my ribs. Then I blinked and blurted: “It's really good to finally meet you, but I'm starving -”
Cassian snorted and started to laugh, his head tipping back as his shoulders shook, and Azriel pushed past him, his lips curving when he blinked into the sun, mumbling: “Looks to me like she's going to fit in just fine.”
☆
Blinking into the sun, I dropped my head when something cool brushed over my shoulder, and Azriel sat down next to me and handed me something.
My heart skipped and my lips parted in surprise at the sight of the waffle wrapped in a paper napkin, sprinkled with powered sugar. There was a café in the alley to our right that sold them, and even though earlier at breakfast, Mor had ordered half the menu, the smell whafting from it when we'd passed it a little while ago had made me look at the window wistfully.
“Thank you.” I looked up at the shadowsinger, still a little wide-eyed and surprised, and there was a soft chuckle from next to me that made my heart skip.
“Bribery.”
“Hey, shut up.” I felt my lips curve into a bright smile without being able to help it, quickly kicking Rhys' shin. He was sitting on my other side and squinted against the sun, cheek creasing. He looked completely relaxed, his skin glowing in the warm light as he lounged on the bench, his arm draped over the backrest behind me. “You're just jealous that he didn't bring you one.”
“Yes, as his High Lord, that does make me wonder.” Rhys narrowed his eyes in mock thought, and Azriel huffed, his lips quirking as he blinked into the sun.
Breathing in the sweet smell of flowers, I plucked off a corner of the still warm waffle, the sweet dough melting on my tongue as I blinked into the sunlight. Something warm was pulsing in my chest as I let my gaze wander over the little square surrounded by big, sandstone buildings.
Mor was crouched a bit away on the cobblestone, talking to a female painting the ground with a beautiful sunset sky. Cassian was over at the fountain that wasn't carrying any water; instead, flowers were growing within, spilling over the edges, violets and lavenders and pinks mixing together with small white blossoms. He was playing with some children, who had seen the mighty warrior and had shied away until he had grinned widely at them. Now, they were trying to wrestle him down, his dramatic groans echoing through the square.
Next to me, Azriel leaned back, his wings folded comfortably behind him as his golden eyes moved over the square, watchful but relaxed. The blooming trees whispered in the soft breeze, petals chasing over the cobblestone, and I exhaled softly and felt something rise in my chest, fluttering and violent.
Gentle claws scraped over my mind's walls, and my heart skipped softly.
“You okay?”
Rhys' voice rumbled through my head, warm and relaxed, and my breath hitched as my eyes flickered over his friends, his family that had taken so easily to me, it felt like I had been with them since the beginning.
Blinking, I tipped my head back a little, looking up into the clear blue sky where even in daylight, the pale shape of the moon was visible, and that swelling feeling under my ribs grew.
It's beautiful, I whispered in my mind, turning my head, and my eyes met violet ones, bright and twinkling as they flickered over my face.
A whaft of warm, flowery perfume filled my nose, then Mor squeezed into between me and Azriel, sighing happily as she squinted into the sun. “Should we save him?”
I looked over towards where Cassian was buried under at least six little Fae children that were yelling and climbing over him.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel's lips quirk as he reclined lazily. “He looks like he's got it handled.”
Cassian dramatically went limp. Then he stirred, sending children tumbling over the cobblestone laughing as he straightened up and grinned at them, and I giggled.
Getting to his feet, Cassian patted the head of one of the children and sent them a wink before beginning to walk back towards us, the children going back to chasing each other over the square.
“Is your back alright, brother?” Rhys watched him get closer, creases in his cheeks deepening. “I could swear I heard it crack when you got up.”
“I heard it.” Azriel squinted into the sun.
Mor sighed dramatically. “Tragic. The mighty hero is getting old.”
“I could take a look at it.” I blinked up at Cassian innocently. From the corner of my eye, I saw the others look towards me as I shrugged, pulling off another piece of waffle. “I deal with injuries of the elderly all the time.”
Rhys started laughing, his head dipping back, and my heart swerved at the deep, rich sound. On my other side, Mor was laughing as well, bright and causing her body to vibrate as the Spymaster grinned, and Cassian scowled, but his eyes were twinkling mischievously when he narrowed them and pointed at me. “Careful, little one.”
"You know she could take you, right?" Rhys was smirking.
I only squinted up at Cassian, feeling my lips curve cheekily.
There was a light pull on my sleeve, and when I looked down in surprise, my heart skipped gently.
A small Fae girl, just a few years old, was standing in front of me, looking up at me with huge eyes.
I could feel my lips rise, and sliding my waffle into Rhys' hand, I slipped off the bench, crouching down until I was on her level before sending her a slow, wide smile.
“Hello.”
The girl shuffled a little, her eyes sheepish as they flickered over me and the flowers still stuck in my hair. Then she held out her hand.
Something rose softly underneath my ribs when I slowly took the small paper blossom from her tiny fingers. Carefully, I placed it in my palm, staring at it. Then I looked up at her through my lashes and sent her a slow, cheeky smile.
“Want to see something?”
The girl nodded quickly, and feeling my smile brighten, I looked down again, closing my eyes for a moment. Then I dipped my head and gently, very gently, blew air over the blossom.
Golden sparks twinkled, making the little girl's eyes grow big, and slowly, before our eyes, the paper flower turned into a real one, its purple petals slowly opening.
The girl's eyes were huge when she looked up at me, beginning to beam, and grinning back widely, I leaned forward, carefully tucking the flower behind her small, pointed ear. Then I straightened up again and sent her a light wink, and with a quiet giggle, the girl quickly turned around, darting back over the square.
Staring after her with a wide smile, I slowly pushed myself up and back onto the bench. Then I raised my head, and my breath hitched a little when I found four pairs of eyes on me.
Mor's lips were parted softly, that strange vibrant awe back in her gaze while Cassian's lips were curving. Azriel's head was dipped to the side a little, a barely there twinkle in his eyes – and Rhys' iris looked brighter than the stars as he stared at me.
“What?”, I mumbled sheepishly, feeling a little heat bloom on my cheeks. Then I caught sight of the huge piece missing out of my waffle and immediately widened my eyes, glaring at Rhys. “Hey!”
☆
“I told you they'd love you.”
My heart skipped softly, and when I looked over my shoulder, Rhys leaned into the open doors, squinting into the low sun as one corner of his lips creased.
Something fluttered softly against my ribs.
“Well, I am very loveable.” I sent him a bright, cheeky grin, and Rhys huffed, the crease in his cheek deepening as he pushed off the doorframe.
Watching him come towards me, I blinked and turned back around, breathing out as I held my face into the warm, sinking sun.
We were back at the house that I still didn't quite believed was supposed to be mine, the window doors open to let in the soft evening breeze as I sat on the stone steps leading from the terrace down into the garden. The light of the sinking sun was dipping everything in a golden shimmer, faeries whizzing through the flowers and tittering happily.
Something brushed against my shoulder, then Rhys took a seat next to me, propping his arms onto his knees and squinting into the light.
“Are you sure you want to sleep here?”
I huffed softly. “I am sure I'm not keen on more flying.”
Rhys' lips curved, his violet eyes piercing the side of my face. “You're insulting my flying?”
“I'm insulting your need for aerial maneuvers.”
Rhys slowly began to grin. “I'm taking that personal.”
“Good. It's awful.” I barely held myself back from breaking into a wide smile.
Rhys' eyes crinkled as he stared at me. Then he blinked and looked over his shoulder. “The main bedroom is on the third floor. Everything's there, so –“
Something closed around my throat, and I quickly whispered: “Thank you.”
Rhys looked at me, and I stared back, trying to swallow against the tightness in my chest as suddenly, the words stumbled from my lips.
“Thank you for trusting me. With this, this city. Your family. And –“, I blinked, “for buying me a house, you - complete – maniac, who just does that?!” I exhaled a little tremblingly as something skipped and fluttered in my chest and I sniffled a bit, my eyes suddenly burning a bit.
Rhys stared at me, the muscles in his cheek working as his lips parted.
“Thank you,”, I whispered a little wobbly, and I could feel Rhys swallow when for a moment, he looked like a dozen answers were running through his head, things he wanted to say stumbling over each other.
But when he opened his lips, nothing came out but one word, quiet, simple and a little hoarse.
“Always.”
A soft shuddering breath left me as my shoulders sunk, and Rhys' violet eyes dragged over my face. Then he blinked, and one corner of his lips curved gently.
“Sleep tight, starshine.”
I swallowed, and Rhys got to his feet, sending me a light wink that made my heart swerve as he started walking down the steps into the garden. I could see the way his shoulders shifted, the way he stretched his neck a little, and suddenly, something dropped into my stomach.
“Wait!”
I darted to my feet, and Rhys stilled. Then he looked over his shoulder, and before I could stop myself, I blurted: “Stay.”
Rhys' lips parted, and hastily, I squeezed my hands into fists.
“I just –“ My eyes darted over his face; my heart skipped once, high, and with a soft breath, I felt my shoulders sag.
“I hate the thought of you up there alone,”, I mumbled.
Rhys blinked. Then the tension bled from his muscles, and his lips curved, just a little.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I breathed out, my eyes darting over his face, illuminated by the sinking sun, his dark hair tousled, his iris a soft violet, and somehow, I managed to ignore the rising, swelling feeling in my chest.
The curve to Rhys' lips deepend, and he slowly turned a little, his eyes beginning to twinkle in the light as he raised a brow. “I can take the couch.”
My heart fluttered high, and I tried to not let it show, just grinning crookedly.
“What, this huge house has no guest room?”
“I thought I'd leave the details of which room becomes what to you.” The twinkle in Rhys' eyes seemed to grow as he slowly started to saunter back towards me, slipping his hands into his pockets as he shrugged casually.
“Convenient.” I felt my lips curve as the flutter in my chest grew sky high, my breath catching when I caught sight of the crease in Rhys' cheek.
“I'll take the couch.”
“No, you won't.” My voice was steady, maybe even amused, even though my heart was beating out my chest the closer Rhys got as I suddenly wondered what I was doing.
Rhys' eyes crinkled a little as he moved up the steps towards me. “What if I snore after all?”
“Then I´ll kick you.” I tried to keep my breathing even when he stopped on the step right beneath mine, almost on eye level for once, my heart missing a beat when I swore I could feel his chest brush against mine.
The crease in Rhys' cheek deepend. “So violent.”
I must've managed to deadpan, because he chuckled, a grin slowly spreading over his face. Then he blinked, and it dimmed, becoming soft when he mumbled, his deep voice a gentle caress over my spine: “Are you sure?”
My heart jumped against my ribs, and I probably should have listened to the warning of its irregular rhythm or the way my breath couldn't seem to stay steady.
But I just smiled back, soft and cheeky and crooked. “Yes. I'm sure.”
Rhys' gaze flickered over my face, and something shifted in his iris, the twinkle a little deeper as he nodded gently. "Alright."
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#rhysand#rhys#rhysand x reader#rhysand x female!reader#rhysand imagine#rhysand/reader#rhys x reader#rhys imagine#rhys/reader#acotar x reader#acotar#acomaf#acowar#starshine#lalacliffthorne
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Colliding Visions
Rhysand x Reader
Summary: With a publication hopefully on the way, you are eager to return to your work in the library's lower levels. Only, it seems someone found your work first and had some edits to make.
Word count: 2.2k
Notes: This is my first written piece on here! I’ve been lurking in the community for a long time but I finally decided to join the party. Let me know what you think (I’m so nervy)! ♡
Your evening trek down to the library is as quiet as ever. Even the usual shuffling of papers and shifting of robes is absent as you trudge further down. It’s only in the depths of the library, far away from any wandering priestesses, that you find peace to further your research on the cosmos. You only recently moved to the Night Court in order to be closer to the source of your studies. With a hopeful publication lined up, your research is more critical than ever–you’re eager to transcribe your work from your brainstorming chalkboard.
The light dust in the air has you sneezing, particularly sensitive after a recent illness. All the more reason for you to return to your work as soon as you can. You quicken your steps down the aisles, the light clicking of your heeled boots the only sound. You’re sure the study nook has gathered dust, but nothing a quick sweep won’t fix.
Only, as you approach your secret working space you see that where you expected dust, there is none. Instead, what was once a beautiful amalgamation of all your thoughts, dutifully coordinated in different colours and symbols, has been altered into some unreadable jumble of who knows what. Your colour scheme? Gone. Your legend? Non-existent. Not to mention all your formulaic theories on the projected collision of stars? Re-written, crossed out, and vandalized.
The rapid beating of your heart matches the rush of blood in your head. This is months of work, scribbled and desecrated. Sure, you have paper copies but nothing that was as seamlessly organized and so thoroughly encapsulated your thoughts. Oh, Cauldron you were going to be sick. You place a hand on the bookshelf to steady your suddenly weak knees–how could someone think they have the agency to destroy your work? The arrogance, the– the–
In your frantic state, you don’t even process the figure standing before your (ruined) work, red chalk in hand, until he begins to scratch at the board.
“What,” Cauldron, your vision is as red as that chalk, “do you think you’re doing?”
His head snaps over to you, and the male blinks a few times as if he too, was so engrossed in the work on the chalkboard that he failed to notice your approach. Quickly he straightens up, and his figure is now all the more imposing. His shoulders are broad, and intricate dark swirls peek over the edge of his loose shirt. Violet eyes—not unlike the very night sky you study—are wide as saucers, perched above perfectly plump lips in the shape of an O. He’s absolutely stunning, despite the smudge of chalk on his sculpted jaw.
“Well?” Your jaw is so tight, the grinding of your teeth could be heard in the stifling silence.
“Oh, I- Well…” For someone who you’re sure is normally a composed male, his tan cheeks are slowly pinking. His eyes dart back and forth between you and his hand, still poised over your precious formulas.
“You dare ruin my work, and when questioned, all you can do is stand there like some air-headed prick?” You cross your arms to prevent yourself from lunging across the short space and using the very chalk that defiled your work to show him just how pissed you were.
“Well, ruin seems quite a stretch considering you overlooked some fundamentals that I so graciously filled in,” He gestured towards the board, demon chalk in hand. At your stunned silence, he clears his throat and plasters on an easy smile that borderlines on a wince. “See, in this particular formula–”
Is he serious?
“I beg your pardon?” Your eyes are narrow slits but you’re sure he can see the malice in them as he flinches a little at your tone. “Not only do you desecrate my work while playing scholar, but now you insult it?” The hiss of your voice echoes in the chamber and you hope it clangs around his empty skull for good measure. However, the male’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“Insult? No, never–It’s quite brilliant actually.” He turns back to gaze at the chalkboard, awe clear across his face. Now it's your turn to be confused. Had he not just accused you of missing information? The retort on your tongue dies as you take in the male appreciating the theories and numbers on the board. His profile is just as stunning from the side, from the line of his aquiline nose to the elegant curl of his ridiculously long lashes.
Fuck, if he hadn’t been so pretentious as to scribble over someone else’s work you might have been inclined to map him like the constellations you so coveted.
With a shake of your head, you swiftly approached the male. You placed your hand over where his own hovered with the chalk before any more red monstrosities were added to the board. He peered down between lowered lashes at where your hands touched. His large hand was a warm comfort beneath your own but no matter how gorgeous this male was, his behaviour was unacceptable.
“I have no idea what your intentions were but,” you hastily squeezed his hand, hoping to impart the seriousness of the situation to him, “This is something I have been working on for a very long time–not to mention it was publish-ready; but now?”
You let go of his hand and stumbled back a few steps to lean against the table. Your shoulders sagged under the implications of the situation, and you could do nothing but bury your face in your hands.
“Now, it’s gone. Cauldron knows how long it will take me to get it as it was.”
You knew you should’ve just transcribed the work all those weeks ago, fever or not. Illness be damned, it forced you home early and now here you were. If only you weren’t so stupid as to leave the research so vulnerable—
Those same warm hands snapped you out of your reverie as they gently settled over your own. The beautiful male stood before you, tilting your head towards him, his eyes full of sincere regret. Their violet hue sparkle with their own stars, but his remorse dampens their glow.
“I apologize for my behaviour. I realize it was unacceptable but when I saw this impeccable research, I-” He swallows and slowly moves closer, his body bracketed by your legs, “I simply had to read it. So when I noticed something amiss, it was only natural to try and remedy it.”
His eloquent words don’t take away from the sting of their meaning–publication ready my ass. You wilted slowly, mind going blank as you try to sift over what he could possibly be referring to. Sensing your retreating thoughts he quickly tugged you off of the table.
“Here, look.” The male placed you in front of him, his hands on your shoulders as he leaned in. His breath lightly stirred your hair and had goosebumps running down your spine. His sea and citrus smell overwhelmed your senses, and was that jasmine?
Before he could continue his explanation, a priestess rounded one of the nearby bookshelves with a heavy tome in hand, “I have the book you requested High… Lord.” Her sentence tapered off as she glanced between you and the High Lord, slightly abashed at having interrupted.
High Lord.
You stiffened in his hold while the male–the High Lord Rhysand–smoothly regained composure as if his front hadn’t been deliciously pressed up against your back.
“Yes, thank you, dear. You’ve been a great help.” With a winning smile that surely got him any help he wanted, Rhysand recovered the book from the priestess who quickly scurried away.
Not one to be bothered, Rhysand turned to you with the tome in hand, displaying its title, Record of Stellar Dynamics Volume 142.
“See, I believe that in the most recent chapter…Hmm…” He hastily sat down and flipped through the pages, eager to find what he was looking for. As he scanned the pages you followed the elegant sweep of his finger.
“I didn’t realize that the High Lord of the Night Court dabbled in such topics. I would’ve thought taxes were more your thing?” You hoped the imperious tone of your voice was enough to distract from the blush on your cheeks.
Rhysand paused his perusing, flashing you a feline grin, “Yes, I dabble as you said. Both in your field of study and ah, taxes.” Despite his cocky response, you had no doubt the dusting of pink on his cheeks matched your own.
“Ah, so it's a private hobby then.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, pouting slightly.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me High Lord.” You placed a hand over your heart for dramatic effect.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, returning to the book, “Oh how encouraging. And Rhys will suffice.”
The nickname gave you pause–not High Lord or even Rhysand, but Rhys? If he wished to behave this familiar, you had no issue with that. You huffed and pointed your finger at him, unwilling to back down, “Well Rhys, High Lord or not, no tampering with my work.”
Rhys slowly rose from his seat, your gaze following up, and up to his full height. He smirks and grabs your pointing finger, only to bring your hand to his hard chest, over his heart. “Only if you ask nicely” he purrs, a devious twinkle in his eye. Ah, there are those stars.
You quickly pull your hand back and turn away willing your heart to slow. Two can play this game.
“And who’s to say I’d approach the likes of you, in any manner at all?” You innocently tilt your head, a coy look on your face. His eyes scanned torturously slow down your face, pausing at your lips as you held your breath.
“You may be curious, considering the information I’ve stumbled upon may be the final piece to your research,” Flirting momentarily forgotten, your eyebrows rise in doubt. The smirk on his face grows impossibly wider, as he points to the passage in the book and a particularly red-scribbled section of the board.
“Look at this record. When you take into account this recent gravitational event–”
“It’s different for this particular globular cluster, thus changing the formula. The stellar collisions occur at a higher frequency.” Your mouth gapes at Rhys’s discovery–how had you missed this?
“Yes!” He’s practically vibrating with energy, the smile on his face spreads so large, even the cosmos would bow before it. He’s exquisite.
You gape back and forth between the board and the heavy tome. You wobble and his strong arms steady you.
“Holy shit,” A giddy laugh escapes you as it begins to sink in that, not all is lost. In fact, quite the opposite. Things have never been clearer. “Holy shit!”
Rhys lets out a booming laugh that resounds in the space, your chest filling further at the lovely sound. You both stare at each other, beyond words.
“Who would have thought the High Lord was such a nerd?” You teased, squeezing his forearms. He gently squeezed back and pulled you closer, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Only when a beautiful woman presents me with equally beautiful work,” The excitement of a few moments ago has worn off his face, replaced by something softer as he gazed at you. Your breath caught in your chest, thrown by the honest compliment.
You bit your lip, an uneasy feeling beginning to bubble in your chest, “I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous.” Rhysand vehemently shook his head, a severe look on his face.
“You have nothing to apologize for darling. Good idea or not, I should have restrained myself,” His lips twitched, “Although it was a pretty brilliant idea.”
You smacked his forearm and was rewarded with that delightful laugh again.
“Regardless, consider this my apology and my thanks.” Before he could settle, you surged forward and delicately kissed his plush lips. He jolted at first but slowly melted into the embrace, his calloused hands migrating up your arms to gently cup your face. His kiss was as exquisite as the rest of him, and you both pulled away hopelessly out of breath. You licked your bottom lip, savouring the delectable taste of him. His sultry eyes tracked the movement and he couldn’t resist leaning down to place another chaste but impassioned kiss on your reddened lips.
“I may scribble on more of your work if your apologies are this delightful, darling.” He whispered against your lips, pulling away to look at you fully. He truly was the most handsome male you’ve ever beheld. The mussed raven hair and swollen lips only enhanced his beauty.
You scoffed. Cocky male. “Don’t even think about it. Although, you’ll have to increase your efforts if you’d like any more thanks.”
That same feline grin was back to grace his features, “Then I better get to work.”
#rhysand#rhys x reader#rhysand x reader#rhysand x you#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acomaf#acowar#acosf#rhysand/reader#acotar x reader#rhys x you#rhys/reader#cherhys
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Pack Mentality
Azriel x Cassian x Rhysand x Reader
Summary: As requested by a few different anons...You're in heat and it's so insufferable that all three bat boys see you through it.
Warnings: SMUT!!! 🥵 Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics.
Word Count: 5,351
Notes: Um...so this might have gotten a little out of hand.
_________________________________________
You’re not entirely sure how you got to this point, Rhysand fucking deep into you while Azriel and Cassian watch, cocks stiff in their own hands.
Only that you do, and you’ve never been more thankful for a heat in your entire life.
Through the writhing and whining haze of your heat, desperately needing an alpha to knot you, the three Illyrians you’d been friends with for so long had debated over who was going to help see you through your heat. Their brotherly bickering was taking too long and you were too distraught, your hormones going crazy, that you’d suggested all three of them take care of you.
Suggested was a light term, begging was more correct.
Cassian shoves into Rhysands shoulder roughly, jolting the future High Lord from your soaking cunt before his knot locks the two of you together. Jealous prick. The violet eyed male shoots the warlord a look that makes you shudder with arousal as he hisses, snapping at the warlord's shoulder with sharp teeth but Cassian doesn’t even spare him a glance, utterly consumed by pushing his neglected cock into your dripping hole. Rhys grips the tip of his own prick as his knot fully forms, gasping and curling in on himself, muscles pulled taut.
You give the Night Court heir a gentle caress to his forearm with a choked moan as Cassian’s hips meet yours. Rhys sends you a forced smile as his cock continues to spurt in his hand, taking yours in his other to intertwine your fingers, holding onto you tightly.
Azriel, still pressing soft kisses to your forehead, gentle as ever, sees his future High Lord in need and offers him a helping hand, literally. His assistance eases the pain for Rhys slightly, his knot misinterpreting his shadowsingers hand for your cunt as it pulses, thick ribbons soiling the bedding.
The two of them will be occupied until Rhys’ knot shrinks, just like Cassian had wanted. A jealous male through and through, he can’t even share with his brothers.
You didn’t know you could stretch further but it's happening as the alpha slowly shoves his way in, then pulls out at the same pace, biting his lip harshly. The scent of blood stings your nostrils in the most delicious way and you swirl your hips, encouraging him to start moving.
“Cass,” you gasp, arching off of the bed as he slides in a touch faster. Your slick coats his prick and drips down your legs onto the sheets below, the air heavy with your sweet scent, driving the males into a frenzy.
He pounds into you mercilessly, and you let out a cry of pleasure when he hits the bundle of nerves inside of you that makes you see stars and your head spin.
There’s no thoughts in your mind as he pounds into you. You feel too fucking good to be worrying about Rhysand’s unbound knot or Azriel waiting patiently for his turn. Right now it’s you and Cassian and Cassian’s enormous cock splitting you in two.
He hooks his hands beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest and Gods you didn’t know it could feel any better but it does and you’re on the verge of unraveling beneath him.
Rhysand’s knot must have shrunk because Azriel’s placing his palm in front of your mouth, dripping with come. The scent of it drives you mad and you need to be knotted, it hurts so bad. The tease of the heir’s forming knot had nearly sent you over the edge, your pussy clenching, trying so hard to hold onto it before Cassian had pushed him away.
“Knot me,” you whine, licking the spymaster's palm fiercely. Azriel watches intently, his own dick twitching at the feeling of your tongue lapping at his marred skin. His hazel eyes gleam with lust as you slurp his brother's seed from his hand.
Cassian curses, holding your hips with a bruising grip as he pounds into you with abandon. Rhysand latches onto your nipple, licking and suckling at the pebbled nub, pinching and twisting the other. You shove your hand into his hair, fisting the midnight locks which spurs the alpha on. Azriel shoves his fingers into your mouth and you gag, but it shifts into a moan as you feel the warlord's knot forming, growing and brushing against your walls while he plays with your clit.
It’s too much, it’s all too fucking much, you need to be knotted, claimed, by any of them, by all three of them. You twist your head to the side, exposing your neck and you’re sure you hear them moan at your desperate display.
Azriel noses at the column of your throat as Cassian’s knot forms, his guttural moan causing the other two alphas to be on alert, the hair at the napes of their necks standing at attention because of the one who’s trying to assert his dominance.
They might tear each other apart before the night is over.
The shadowsinger’s nearly drooling at your sweet scent and he lets his teeth graze over the delicate skin, pushing you over the edge into your own orgasm, milking the come from Cassian’s cock. He’s pulsing hot inside of you, the two of you locked together until his knot shrinks, and right now you’re hoping that it never does.
You can feel yourself falling into your omega space, reveling at the feeling of an alpha spilling into you, your pussy convulsing around his cock, his hot seed trapped inside of you. It’s utter bliss and you don’t feel like you have to worry about the three possessive alphas latched onto you. Their scents mix together and you let your body go lax into the bed, eyes falling shut. They smell like home and you feel protected, like nothing can get to you as long as you have your alphas.
__________
When you wake you’re no longer connected to Cassian. You’re feeling hot, writhing and whimpering in the bed because even though you’ve gotten knotted your heat is still at its peak and you need to be filled again, immediately.
But Azriel’s not having it, holding you close to his chest. His willpower is immaculate, letting you lean into his side as he forces you to drink and eat while you pout and try to rut against him.
“Please, Az,” you mewl, “It’s unbearable.”
“I know baby,” he whispers, giving in and pressing a firm kiss to your lips, “But you need to eat, keep your energy.”
“I don’t want to,” you huff, snaking your hand down to your clit. If he won’t help you you’ll just have to do it yourself.
He smirks, watching as you do just that. He’s toying with you. He knows you won’t be able to get off the way that you want by yourself, won’t be able to recreate the feeling of a thick knot deep inside of you, and after you drag an orgasm from yourself you collapse against him, begrudgingly eating the food he holds to your lips.
Your climax has sated you slightly, enough to finish your meal, gulping down a few hearty sips of water from the glass he’s handed over.
“Where are Rhys and Cass?” you ask, wiping an escaped drop of water from your mouth. You don’t really care, having one alpha here with you is better than having to go through your heat alone, and you know that Azriel can more than handle himself in the bedroom if the size of his wings are anything to go by, but having the three of them here makes you feel completely at ease.
“Fighting out in the yard,” he replies with a shrug at your concerned glance. He kisses the frown from your lips, and your breath catches in your throat as he makes his way down your body, settling himself between your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping core.
His eyes flick up to yours and the slash of a smirk on his face has your cunt throbbing. “Rhys wasn’t too pleased about Cass pushing him off of you. Now that you’re awake and casting your hormones to the entire camp, I’m sure they’ll be joining us sooner than later.”
The ever so quiet alpha knows how to use his voice when he needs to, but now, dipping down for his first taste, burying himself into your wet pussy, his skilled tongue flicking against your clit, he’s saying everything that he needs to just by his actions.
“Uh, Az,” you moan, threading your fingers through his hair and holding him in place, jerking your hips against his mouth, chasing that orgasm that seems to be constantly looming. “Right there, yeah, I’m going to come!”
With a cry of pleasure you topple over the edge, panting as you try and catch your breath, head hazy from the shadowsingers wicked tongue.
The alpha doesn’t give you time to relax your thrumming heart because he’s pushing deep into you, so deep that it presses all of the air from your lungs, your fingers scrambling to grab onto him in any way possible.
He towers over you, wings splayed wide in a display of pure dominance leaves you shivering, keening for him to move. All you want to do is submit to him; you’ll do anything for this male above you, in any capacity he wants.
“I could fucking mate you right now,” he growls, licking a fat stripe against the juncture of your neck where he thinks his bite would look the best, “Just fucking clamp down and claim you.”
“Yes, please,” you drag your nails down his back, spine curving up to press into his muscular body. That sounds like utter heaven, being his.
“But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?” His question is a growl in your ear that has you trembling to your very core. He jerks his hips once and you gasp at the feeling, some of your slick slipping out as he moves back.
You wonder if Cassian’s come is still inside of you, and the thought makes you clench around him, body quivering. You’re not sated yet, won’t be for days to come, when your heat breaks. They’ll all get their turns, filling you up with their seed.
You want them all to breed you. You can picture it now as Azriel thrusts his hips. Your belly swollen with a pup. Any one of them would be an amazing father, and you know that they wouldn’t treat the babe as anything but their own.
Could you actually have all three?
“Want–” you pant, words swallowed by a moan. The door to the bedroom opens and the two missing males of your party arrive, skin smelling of salt and blood and power. The pair strip out of their clothes hastily, not wanting to waste a mere second without you again, jealous that Azriel’s got his dick nestled inside your perfect little cunt.
“What’s that you want?” Rhysand whispers, climbing up onto the bed and kissing you passionately on the mouth, a hand in your hair to keep you still, having caught the first word of your plea.
Cassian assesses for a second – trying to figure out the best spot to wedge himself – to get as close to you as he can. He opts for lying against you, pressing himself flush to your side, body hot and tender from the brawl with his brother.
“Want you all to mate me, claim me, breed me,” you beg and the three alphas groan in unison, Azriel’s knot forming at your words, pouring into you. Rhysand’s cock throbs in his hand again and he presses his forehead harshly against yours, taking calming breaths so he doesn’t orgasm again, his heavy breath cool against your dewy skin. Cassian ruts against you with a grunt. He needs to come again, preferably inside of you.
“(Y/N),” Rhysand’s shuddered whimper of your name ignites that feeling inside of you, your cunt convulsing around Azriel’s prick as he’s nestled inside of you. He chokes on the moan threatening to spill from his lips, planting his hands on your hips harshly to keep you from writhing.
“Please,” you cry, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, forcing him to look at you while he tries to pull away. You lock your legs around the shadowsingers hips although he isn’t going anywhere and loop your arm around Cassian, keeping him pulled tight to your chest.
“You’re just saying this because of your heat, Darling,” Rhysand’s voice is soft, sad, like he wishes that you could really mean the words. “If we did that you’d be regretting it as soon as your heat breaks.”
“No,” you protest, shaking your head slightly, mouth dropping open in bliss as Azriel’s cock twitches inside of you. Unfortunate timing, but through the hazy lust you’re feeling and the undeniable feeling to succumb to your omega nature is the truth. You love all three of these males. “I won’t.”
Cassian, who’s rubbing your stomach soothingly, looks like he might just bite you anyways, fuck the pact he’s made with his brothers. Here you are, begging for all three of them, whiny and needy and craving their seed in you. He can hardly control himself around you when you’re not on your cycle, but now that he’s had a taste, he’ll never let you go.
Az and Rhys share a look, having a conversation through each other’s minds as Cassain catches your mouth with his, distracting the both of you. It’s all he can do to not clamp down on your already bruised neck and mark you.
The spymaster’s knot loosens and you gasp into Cass’ mouth when he slips out of you.
“We’ll discuss it when your heat ends,” is what Rhysand tells you and you huff. You want to throw a tantrum at his words but Cassian’s pulling you closer to his side, his warmth enveloping you in a gloriously comfortable hug. You let your eyes drift closed as he murmurs softly into your hair, telling you to rest while you can.
You’re sure they’re going to talk it over while you sleep but you can’t help yourself, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in the familiar scent of the alpha as you drift off.
__________
It must be the middle of the night when you become desperate again. The three alphas are asleep and you’re still curled in Cassian’s embrace, his slight snoring rumbling through you to your bones.
Rhys is pressed up behind you, wings nowhere in sight with the spymaster behind him, laying on his back, shadows trailing lazily throughout the room. It’s nearly pitch black, the glow of the moon drifting in through the sliver between the curtains.
You want him, oh Gods do you want him. The tease of his knot when Cassian pushed him off of you was not enough, you need to feel that powerful cock pulsing inside of you right this second.
You straddle across his hips, whimpering and grinding against him, giving him kitten licks across his neck. You’re soaked, slick coating the apex of your thighs and you just know that the spot where you'd been lying is sopping wet.
“Rhys,” you plead, swirling your hips again. He’s rock solid against you, groaning sleepily as he blinks the sleep from his eyes, his hands automatically caressing your sides.
“(Y/N)?” he slurs, clearing the grogginess from his throat, “Need m’knot?”
“Yes please,” you sniffle, nosing at the column of his throat and running your fingers through his hair desperately. The texture of his soft locks feels incredible against your sensitive skin.
“Go on Darling, take what you need.”
You sink down onto his thick cock without hesitance and Rhys groans quietly as you begin to ride him with fervor, bouncing up and down on his length, swirling your hips. Your back arches and you let a loud moan slip out when you get that perfect angle, the male beneath you palming at your breasts.
The noises and movements rouse the other two alphas from their slumbers, dicks thick and heavy and dripping at the sight of you riding their brother.
Azriel is up and behind you in an instant, whispering in your ear and pressing featherlight kisses to your skin, asking if you can take two cocks shoved up inside your pretty pink pussy.
You nearly scream at his words, craning your head around to capture his filthy mouth with yours, teeth clacking as you fiercely kiss. The shadowsingers hand snakes around your front to your clit, flicking furiously at the nub as you grind down on Rhys.
You come on Rhys’ cock with a cry that’s swallowed by the alpha behind you. Your hips slow against the Night Court heir who grabs your thighs like he’s going to plant his feet and start jackknifing into you because he’s that desperate.
Az places a hand to your spine and you arch under his touch, shivering as his cock teases your hole, before he shoves it right beside Rhysands, the three of you moaning in pleasure.
You collapse against the alphas chest, utterly blissed out on both of their huge pricks as Azriel starts moving, sliding against Rhy’s dick and your walls. Your fingers fist the sheets, the feeling of both of them filling you up has you seeing stars, but it’s still not quite enough, you need more.
And the childish whimper of being left out from the largest of the three alphas has you taking his cock in your hand, sliding it up and down the silky shaft, thumbing at the beading precome at the tip and slicking your way down.
When you catch your breath you struggle to lift yourself from Rhys’ chest, arms shaking, trembling as you rise, looking up at Cassian through your fluttering eyelashes.
You mouth at the head of Cassian’s enormous prick, sucking at the tip before swallowing the alpha down as far as you can.
Your mouth is wicked, wrapped around him, your moans going straight through his dick. He gasps at the feeling of you tonguing your way down his cock, the head of his prick inching further and further down your hot throat as you take him in.
This, this is what you wanted, feeling full to the brim, your three alphas taking care of you through your heat. If they couldn’t see how perfect you all are together they had to be crazy.
Every thrust from Azriel has you sliding further down Cassian’s shaft, choking on him. The delicious, wet sounds of his dick squelching in your throat and the other two in your dripping cunt have them all on edge, ready to come at any second.
“Ah, fuck,” Cassian hisses, pulling out and gripping the base of his dick harshly, squeezing his eyes shut. He can’t come, doesn’t want his knot to form if it’s not inside of you. It had happened once before and it was not something he wanted to relive, ever.
He might be feeling slightly bad for doing it to Rhys earlier.
Azriel and Rhysand fuck into your with abandon and it’s euphoric, being sandwiched between the two powerful alphas as they get off. Their knots form fast, sensitive and sliding up against each other, against your walls, your slick making everything so messy, so pleasurable.
Rhysand comes first, locking himself into you with a loud bark of a moan, eyes rolling back in his head as Az overstimulates him, still thrusting.
The shadowsinger kisses down your neck, shoving his forming knot up into you as far as he can with Rhysands cock stuffed into you, bursting in you with a strangled cry.
__________
Your heat breaks three days later.
You’re utterly exhausted, draping yourself across whichever alpha is closest, letting them thread their fingers through your hair and hold you close, reveling in the scent of their seed on you, soon to be washed off until your next heat.
You force yourself to clean up, standing from the bed early in the morning while the three males are still fast asleep. You yawn, stretching your arms over your head as you make your way to the washroom, swearing you can still feel days worth of come seeping out of you.
Good thing you are on the tonic.
You take your time, relaxing in the hot water with your eyes closed, letting your muscles loosen from the week of activity. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more, the three alphas sharing you, giving you everything you needed while only fighting with each other on a few occasions.
A lazy smile crosses your lips, Possessive alphas.
It’s Azriel who finds you first, no doubt his shadows alerting him that you were no longer in the bed with them. He’d rolled over and draped an arm across Cassian’s broad shoulders instead of you, pulling back with a faint dust of pink on his lips when he realized.
He washes you carefully, those skilled fingers taking their time, caressing your aching body softly. Maybe you’ll convince the spymaster to give you a massage later, after you’ve eaten and hydrated a bit more.
And maybe they’d let you take a walk, smelling like their individual scents: cedar and smoke, earth and wind, and sea and citrus. They wouldn’t let you go alone, no way would these overprotective bats let you wander the camp alone. They’d go with you, flaring their wings and glaring at any other male who set their sights on you.
But you are not theirs, and they are not yours.
The words that had slipped from your mouth during your heat were still at the forefront of your mind. You want them, all of them, so badly that it makes your stomach twist with fear. What if they didn’t want you or weren’t willing to share? Rhys said that you would all discuss it, but when?
Az helps you from the tub once he’s deemed you clean enough, wrapping you up in a large towel and sending you off with a kiss to your forehead so you can get dressed while he bathes next.
Stomach growling, you shove yourself into something comfortable. You’ll change if they decide to let you out of the house, your hormones still seeping from your pores on your first day off of your heat.
You begin working on breakfast, an idea forming in your mind.
One by one they lazily trek into the room. First, a freshly showered Azriel, who pressed up behind you with a kiss to your cheek, murmuring if you’d like any help. You smile gratefully but decline his offer, telling him to take a seat and that breakfast will be ready shortly.
Next comes Cassian, hair disheveled and not yet bathed, too hungry to do anything other than follow the smell of food, stealing a piece of meat on his way by and stopping your protest with his lips against your own.
Finally, after taking his time in the bath comes Rhysand, dressed to the nines as always. He’s brushing his arms from the invisible lint no doubt and he greets you with a dazzling smile and a wet kiss to your throat.
Maybe he hadn’t forgotten afterall.
Placing each of their plates down in front of them you take a step away, trying to calm your breathing. None of the three alphas touch their food, sensing the emotion in the air, looking towards you with worried eyes and furrowed brows.
“What is it, Darling?”
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“What’s going on, baby?”
You flush at their worried questioning, heart thundering in your chest so loudly you’re sure the entire camp can hear it, smell exactly how nervous you are.
“Um, I know it may not be the bond, but it’s still a bond of its own, and I know I feel it with the three of you. Will you have me?” You blurt, gesturing to the full plates in front of each of the alpha males. You refuse to look up at them, worrying your lip between your teeth as you await their responses.
“Oh, (Y/N), Darling,” Rhys smiles up at you, violet eyes sparkling like the night sky, “It is the bond, can’t you feel it?”
You twist your fingers nervously. That’s what that was? You had felt it during your heat but you’d been too overstimulated with pleasure and instinct that you hadn’t been able to differentiate the two.
“But you said–”
“I said that because I didn’t want you to make the decision based on impulse,” he slides from his seat, caressing your cheek with his hand as he gently tilts your face to look up at him. “You’re ours, (Y/N). If you’ll have us.”
You try to bite back the smile creeping to your lips but you can’t. Azriel and Cassian stand, flanking Rhysand on either side, peering down at you with twin smiles.
“Will I have you?” you laugh, utter joy bursting in your chest, reverberating in each of their chests. “Of course I’ll have you! How many times do you need to hear it, alpha?”
The heir goans, heat sparking low in his groin. He’ll never stop needing to hear it, you moaning his name, the feelings you let pulse freely down the bond.
His brother’s too, catching the arousing scent wafting from you. Their pupils widen, eyes darkening at the thought.
As much as you’d like to take this back into the bedroom, you’re sore, tired, and hungry. Your stomach growls, breaking the lustful tension into something more relaxed. Rhys leads you to a spot at the table and you watch as they each stare down at their plates, then at you, tender and in love.
Each of them accepts your offer, taking a bite of their breakfasts.
You can feel the air sparking as you eat, the silent breakfast filled with anticipation for what’s to come. Cassian’s leg won’t stop shaking beneath the table, Az’s shadows keep twitching around him, and the fork in Rhys’ hand keeps twirling in circles nervously.
It’s too much, you can’t finish your food. Setting your fork down on your half eaten plate you offer with an erratic heart, “Ready?”
You puff a breath of laughter as the three males shoot up from their chairs, ushering you into the bedroom you’d all locked yourself in for the past week. The sheets are fresh but the smell of sex still lingers in the air and it sends a shiver of arousal down your spine.
They situate you on the bed, lying back comfortably as they all climb in around you, maws nearly drooling at the sight of your perfect neck, analyzing where they’ll leave their bonding marks.
“I want you all at the same time,” you gasp softly as Cassian noses at your neck, searching for your scent gland. He can’t wait to taste you.
Rhysand chooses one side of your neck, the two warriors on the other side, and they all share a look between each other, their pact hanging heavily between them. Not a single one of them were to be mated with you, they all loved you too much to see one brother win out, but the three of them, together…this could work.
There are already tears of joy in your eyes and Azriel kisses them away before they settle in, teeth scraping against your neck, a gentle tease that has you shivering in anticipation, before the alpha's bite down.
You let out a ragged moan as their teeth sink into you, drawing blood and throwing your hands into their hair, scrambling to touch any parts of them that you can. The feeling is surreal, you don’t even think you’re in your body anymore, you can see parts of yourself through each of their eyes, back arching off of the bed in pleasure. You keen, overwhelmed by feelings that aren’t even yours, tears slipping freely from your eyes.
You try to pull them closer, their growls of pleasure have their teeth sinking in further, marking you for good.
When they tear themselves from your neck you can’t help but let out a sob. But then they’re each kissing you, taking turns and you can taste your blood on their mouths but it’s heavenly and you don’t think that you could be any happier than you are right now.
“Well?” Cassian asks when you’ve calmed down a bit. He’s looking at you with anticipation, nervous and needy, and so are Az and Rhys.
“C’mere then,” you whisper, letting him help you sit up. On your knees before him you brush away the hair at the nape of his neck, fingers brushing over the tan skin lightly. You give the spot a teasing lick and his hands grip your hips for stability, exhaling a shaky breath.
You don’t hesitate further, biting into the soft skin, completing the mark. The metallic taste of his sweet blood is overwhelming, and you feel a rush throughout your body, like you’re drunk off of him. You sway at the feeling and four more hands hold you up, grounding you.
You gasp, pulling away but his lips are pressed against yours in the next second, body flush against yours in hunger. Your hands frame his head, reveling in the feeling of his bond nestled in your heart.
But there are still two more males waiting patiently for your mark.
Azriel is next. Kissing him softly, sharing the blood of his brother with him, the shadowsinger growls at the taste of another alpha on you, gripping you tighter to his chest.
His hazel eyes are dark, and he guides your mouth where he wants you to mark him, right where everyone can see. You moan against his hot skin, clamping your teeth down harshly because you know it will get him a bit bothered.
And it does. He groans out your name, shadows sweeping around the both of you in excitement, his cock hardening in his pants. You palm him roughly before you pull away, the taste of him dizzying you. His chest heaves and it takes both of his brothers to pry his hands off of you because of the look you’re giving him – unfinished business.
You smirk at Rhysand who’s already giving you that look, that hunger in his eyes is the exact kind he gets when he thinks about ruling over the Night Court, powerful and dominating.
You wrap your arms around his neck and he dips his head down, licking over your lips for a taste of his friends, of you, all mixing together as one. He never thought he’d share a mate, and with two people no less, but you are worth it, even only having a third of your heart is worth it to him.
You already know where to bite him, you’d thought about it so many times, pictured it the first time you met him. You want it right at his collar, where it would peek over his clothing for his future peoples to see, a mated alpha marked by a territorial omega.
He lets you. He’d let you do anything you wanted to him if you batted your eyelashes the way you’re doing now.
With a nod on his behalf, you dig in, tearing at the skin with your teeth, drinking down a few gulps of his blood, making a mess across your lips. It’s not as neat as you’d like, but the feeling of him spreading through your body has you power hungry, staking claim of what's yours.
He hisses in pleasure, letting you take as much as you want, and you pop off from his skin, soothing over the torn flesh with your tongue as it heals, lapping up every single drop.
“You cruel, wicked, thing,” he purrs once you’ve pulled away, collecting a stray drop of blood from your lip with his thumbs and sucking it into his own mouth, violet eyes glowing.
“Welcome to the pack.”
#acotarxreader#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acomar#azrielxreader#azriel x you#azriel smut#azriel x reader#cassian smut#cassian x reader#cass x reader#rhys x reader#rhys/reader#rhysand x reader#rhysand smut#a/b/o#azriel/cassian/rhysand/reader#azsazz#azriel x cassian x rhysand x reader#acotar smut
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Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.
Small World
Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys
A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Part Two is Here
Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.
He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.
He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.
He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.
You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.
That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.
You two spoke about everything.
Well.
Almost everything.
Families were a mostly banned topic.
Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.
You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.
But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.
And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.
You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.
You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."
Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."
You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.
You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."
Home.
The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.
Small. Intimate. Cozy.
Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.
Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.
You shared one last kiss, opening the door.
Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.
Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.
Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.
Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.
Sandy blonde hair.
Button nose.
High cheek bones.
Part illyrian.
Eyes that reflected starlight.
Eyes that were near violet.
Rhysand's eyes.
"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.
Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"
Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."
Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."
Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."
Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"
Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.
"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"
Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."
Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"
"I wasn't ready."
"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"
"Rhys!" "Dad!"
Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."
"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."
Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."
Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."
You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.
You should have put two and two together.
Scarred hands.
Massive wingspan.
Mysterious male.
Pretty dagger.
Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.
The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.
The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.
You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"
You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."
The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.
Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.
It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.
Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."
Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"
"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."
She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"
"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."
"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."
Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"
Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."
Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."
"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."
Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."
"She just doesn't listen."
Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."
"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."
"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."
Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."
Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."
You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."
PS - there will be a part two
General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu
#acotar#acotar x reader#send asks#azriel acotar#send anons#azriel x reader#azriel#rhys acotar#cassian acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel x y/n
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Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of
Pairing: SingleDad!Rhys x Reader
Summary: After his mate and the mother of his son abandons them, The High Lord and Nyx are left alone and wanting.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, allusions to depression, abandonment, broken homes (y'know keeping it light, in all seriousness this is not all angst it's quite sweet actually).
The sky is painted in hues of lavender and mauve and the flowering ivory clouds shade Velaris in a perpetual state of dusk. The silvery light of the waxing moon seems to cast you in a gentle opal light as you approach the opulent manor. The High Lord’s townhouse is nestled in the heart of the city of starlight and wreathed in the colors of twilight; a slate facade that looks as though it is crowned in green, climbing ivy and night-blooming jasmine frame the large bay windows on the ground floor. From here you can see the large stained-glass window on the top floor, light refracts and it casts a myriad of dancing light onto the stone below-- dappled pinks and roses that fracture and give way to amethyst and indigo.
You spare a look to your aged companion as she breaches the threshold of the High Lord’s residence and, on unsteady feet, approaches the ornate wooden door and knocks thrice.
You remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the series of events that led you here. Mother above, you chastise yourself. The thought occurs to you then, that perhaps you had made a mistake in coming here; that you should have given yourself more time, that you should have remained in the quiet solitude of the library where the world seems like a bitter memory.
“Come, girl.” Madja’s voice is tired and impatient as she beckons you closer with the wave of a crooked finger. “Don’t just stand there.”
You swallow thickly, bowing your head in obedience and you notice how her eyes soften as you approach the door tentatively.
“Nervous?” the old woman asks, you feel her eyes on you-- examining and critical.
“A little,” You admit, eyes downcast as you loose a shaky breath, “I haven’t left the library besides for training in quite some time.”
You stare down at the sleeves of your faded pewter robes as they billow in the evening breeze; the silver embroidery around the cuffs has begun to fray and the layers of fabric gather about your waist, the pleats have been poorly ironed and the heavy fabric falls over the curve of your hip haphazardly and pools to the floor in a swathe of heavy cotton. Shame pools in your stomach at the sight of your slippers as they peek out from the skirts of your robe.
It’s about time you asked Clotho for a new set of robes you think.
“You’ve met him before, no?” Madja’s voice breaks the tenuous peace you have found in those moments. You look up at her and a deep set frown graces her weathered face, “when you first came to Velaris?”
The visions fall on you like night; the Moonstone Palace saturated in onyx and jade, the reflections of your face in the marble of the throne room floor, the sentries as they dragged you before the High Council. The sounds of your screams and a sea of rubies and pearls as the bodice of your dress is torn away from your heaving chest-- all that red. Terrible and red.
Hewn City had always been cruel to you. You, a useless daughter to an ambitious man. The dreams are less vivid now but the sound of footsteps on marble still haunts you.
“Yes, it was him who brought me to Velaris-- after-afterwards,” You acquiesce to her questioning, eyes set on the light beyond the frosted glass panes of the onyx doorway, “though I doubt he remembers.”
Your avenging angel.
Madja looks at you carefully, taking account of you before she nods to you in silent acknowledgement.
The door to the High Lords townhouse opens with a flourish to reveal Morrigan. She’s more beautiful than you remember, radiant even as the dark shadows of sleep cling to her. Her golden hair hangs in loose waves over the delicate curve of her shoulder and though the deep umber of her eyes meets yours in a warm inviting stare as she utters your name.
She knows your name.
“Come on in from the cold.” she beckons you with the curve of a slender hand. You smile politely as you cross the threshold of the house. The wards fall away as you pass through into the foyer and the smell of mandarin and night blooming jasmine flood your senses.
The foyer to the townhouse is truly beautiful; a testament to the fine artistry and craftsmanship that seemed to define Velaris’ art district. The walls are paneled wood, painted in a shade of twilight that can only be found here, in The Night Court, and the burgundy carpet so rich in color that it reminds you of a blood moon, the oil paintings that hang on the walls seem to exude an air of majesty unlike anything you’ve ever seen.
In this room night reigns triumphant and you behold it all with a sense of wonder and awe. A careful deference to the love and care contained between these walls. It is a home that has been truly cherished by the people that live here.
“Did Madja tell you why you had been summoned here?” Morrigan’s voice is soft and sweet and the feeling of her hand on your robed arm pulls you from your thoughts.
“Sorry - I - uh” I stutter, glancing between her hand on my arm and the unyielding warmth of her gaze. “No she didn’t, only that there was a position in the High Lord’s household that Clotho recommended me for.”
“It was my recommendation actually,” Morrigan smiles proudly, letting her hand drop to her side idly. “Clotho just happened to agree.” The words leave her lips with the ghost of a smirk as she recalls the conversation between her and the High Priestess.
The last time you had spoken to Morrigan would have been in Hewn City, all those years ago. You abandon yourself to those days; when you had been the cursed daughter of a capricious Lord. The girl you were died under that mountain. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time.
You nod solemnly and cast a glance to Madja who watches on in quiet curiosity.
“Rhys is upstairs,” Morrigan says softly to you both, gesturing up the staircase to the upper level of the house, “I’ll fetch him down”.
You notice then how troubled Mor looks. The rings around her eyes are pale purple and blue and her skin, once radiant, has become pale and sallow. She begins her ascent up the stairs with a small wave of her hand signaling Madja to follow. From here you can see a singular light that pierces through the blanket of the dark that shrouds the upper levels of the house.
Mor regards you once more as Madja passes her on the stairs and points towards the ornate door that leads to the antechamber at the heart of the house. “Go on in, we won’t be a moment.” In a flourish of golden blonde hair and crimson Morrigan winnows away and leaves you to linger in the foyer for a quiet moment.
The smell of cherries and marigold shades the air in her absence.
Voices, disembodied and distant from the upper levels of the house draw you into the heart of the house.
The antechamber of the High Lords townhouse is a beautiful living room, plunged into near darkness spare the slivers of jade light that dapple the dark walls from the emerald chandelier, even in the darkness you can make out the dark marble of the hearth that is draped with moonflowers and ivy. The low backed chairs are elegant and worn from use and there are books strewn about the room and a small library contained neatly in the alcove.
Your eyes find the painting hung above the hearth; immortalized on oil and canvas the High Lord of Night and his Lady. The High Lord is painted in a deep navy tunic and the silver paint mimics the delicate embroidery favored by the Velarian tailors in The Rainbow. His violet eyes shine bright against the dark.
He is a thing of dark beauty, you think.
In this light, his High Lady looks as though she is wreathed in starlight as smiles down on the antechamber from her place above the hearth. You observe the pointed curve of her nose and the upturn of her cerulean eyes and something aching and jealous festers in you at the sight of her beauty.
Otherworldly and ethereal.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The low tenor of a man calls out from the darkness of the room, the voice is measured and devoid of any emotion as it permeates the dark. The male cuts an intimidating figure in the low light and all thought and sound eddies from your mind. You’re sure the sound of your heart like an echoing war drum is loud enough to shake the mountains as he takes a step towards you.
“High Lord?” you question. He steps further into the light and you regard him pensively; his skin is pallid and his eyes are ringed with dark circles of amethyst that trouble you. His onyx hair is left tousled and the ends have grown long enough to curl away from the harsh lines of his face. The sharp junction of his jaw has become obscured by the smatterings of coarse, black hair that grow there.
Even still, even in the unforgiving jade light, he is the most beautiful male you have ever seen. He smells of night blooming jasmine and violets undercut with something inherently masculine. Pine and whiskey perhaps.
His presence is something truly captivating; dark and intoxicating. When he looks at you there is only dark in those violet eyes.
The High Lord sinks into the worn armchair by the hearth with a deep sigh and for a moment he allows his eyes to flutter closed as he breathes deeply and all you can do is surrender yourself to that dark magnetism. The dying fire in the hearth warms him and in this light you notice the golden hues of his skin and the dark inky trails tattooed across the planes of his chest where his shirt opens.
“You’re staring--” The High Lord’s violet eyes falls onto you. In those liminal spaces between the seconds, when he is looking at you, all ceases to be. You tilt your chin downwards, hoping to avert his gaze, as you offer him a courteous bow.
“My apologies High L-” the apology is cut off by the High Lords gentle protests. None of that, Love.
You pray to the mother that he doesn’t notice the flush along the tops of your cheeks or the wild fluttering of your heart at the pet name.
“Sit down,” The High Lord gestures simply to the seat across from him by the hearth and his whole demeanor is somehow softer when you deign to look at him again. Wordlessly you comply with his request, a careful hand runs down the length of your robes to smooth out the lazy pleats in the skirt as they fan out around you in the low backed chair and while you don’t dare to meet his eyes directly you can feel him looking at you.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes though his voice is distant, despondent even and his eyes find the painting that looms over the hearth. “The portrait-- It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He muses, tipping the rim of his whiskey glass towards the portrait.
“Very beautiful, High Lord.” you agree, smoothing the heavy material of your robes again. He watches you then with a curious glint in his eyes and he takes a few moments to assess you.
“Just Rhysand will do,” He smiles lightly, though there's a sense of apprehension as he regards you playing with the threads of your sleeves for the third time in so many moments, “there’s no need for such formalities when it’s just the two of us.”
“No of course not,” You agree and look at him through thick lashes and offer him a small smile in return, “forgive me, I’m--” you extend a hand to him over the small end table between the arm chairs and he takes it in earnest shaking it lightly. A calloused pad of his thumb rubs an absentminded circle into the skin of your hand before he brings your hand, trembling and slender, to the sulk of his lips and places a chaste kiss against the knuckles.
“I know who you are, Priestess,” he says lightly-- playfully. You offer him a polite laugh in return and nod your head again.
Something dark burns in his eyes in those moments; silver and violet. Like the darkness between the stars. He smiles to himself then, a soft beautiful thing. A secret shared between him and the dying light in the hearth as he picks at an errant threat on the stitching of his shirt.
“Why am I here, Rhysand?” You ask, inhaling deeply, hoping that his answer might assuage the anxiety that has been coiling in your stomach all afternoon. The door to the antechamber opens then and light, golden and radiant spills into the room all at once. The radiant light reveals the room to you fully, you observe the emerald velvet chairs and the dark wood furnishings, the landscapes hung on the walls and the rare manuscripts and novels bound all in black that line the walls.
This house is something truly breathtaking.
It feels like a home you realize.
“There you are!” Morrigan's velvet voice smothers the morose tension in the room as she comes into view. She’s since shed the tiredness that plagued her before and you notice the way her hair frames her face like a halo of gold in the soft ochre light. In her arms, swaddled in sapphire spider silk, is the High Lord’s son.
“We were beginning to wonder where you had gone.” Mor coos at the bundle in her arms as she approaches Rhysand who takes the babe in his strong arms.
As if he could get any more beautiful-- the man looks as though he was carved by The Mother.
It’s wrong, you know. He is your High Lord and you are…
The cursed daughter of a capricious Lord, you remind yourself.
Rhysand glances at me hesitantly and I meet his eyes briefly before focusing on the babe in his arms. He’s since broken loose from the swaddling and his chubby fist clutches at his fathers shirt. I can just see the top of his little head, it's all tufts of curly blue-black hair and pointed pink ears. You smile fondly to yourself as he continues to wriggle in his father’s grasp.
Gods, it’s been so long since you had smiled that wide without the feeling of guilt that usually attends it.
“You used to be a governess, didn’t you?” Mor says by way of explanation for your summons. To her credit her smile never falters even as your demeanor hardens against her, “Clotho said you had talked about it a few times.”
“Yes. I was,” You admit swallowing thickly, your voice comes out strained like the words themselves pain you to speak, “that was a long time ago though.”
That had been long before him.
You must have only been a youngling yourself. You had been happy-- that much you remember. Those were the happy recollections of your old life; summers spent under the opal lights of The Moonstone place, children’s laughter like birdsong that breaks apart in the humid air as you danced and sang long into the nights. Of dark autumns and smoky air, a bonfire and a small hand that holds your own with such gentle reverence.
“Clotho said you wanted to leave the Library?” Rhysand questions you, his eyes are dark and filled with a thinly veiled darkness that draws you into their depths as you speak to him without pretense.
“I do,” You answer him honestly, your voice wavering only a little, “I don’t want to spend my days rotting in the depths of that House.”
Rhysand considers it carefully and his face twists into a pained expression that almost breaks your resolve. You hadn’t meant to hurt him-- never. But you’re done hiding in the dark.
The world is a cruel place and full of cruel men. It always had been and it always will be. There is nought you can do to change that. So why should you cower from the world any longer?
You want to live.
The whining of the restless babe in Rhys’ arms rouses your attention and something akin to longing gathers in your chest as you regard him. You pull a lip between your teeth as he fusses and Rhysand struggles to soothe him. The babe looses a cry that comes out as a pitiful howl and you can feel a small ripple of power permeate the air.
“May I hold him?” The words take everyone in the room by surprise and the High Lord only nods easily and stands to pass the babe into your arms.
“I’m grateful,” You continue as Rhysand stands before you and transfers his son’s weight into the crook of your arm, “To you and your court for providing me, and girls like me with somewhere to heal but--”
“But you weren’t meant to cower in the darkness of the library forever.” Rhysand’s words come out as little more than a whisper and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin is something entirely perverse.
You shake your head, mouthing an inaudible ‘no’ before lowering yourself back into the chair by the hearth, hoping to hide the rosy blush that spreads across your cheeks. Rhys doesn’t retreat back into his armchair like you had thought he might and instead sinks to his knees before you and allows one of his son's fists to wrap around his ring finger. The babe seems to quieten then in your arms as he nuzzles against your chest, one balled first clinging to his father and the other pulling at the neckline of your robes and he smiles sleepily in your arms.
Looking at him now you are overcome with the realization of the absence that had stained this family’s happiness. Rhysand had given himself completely to a woman who had changed her mind. And their son-- their son; all cherub cheeked and big blue eyes framed with dark lashes-- had been abandoned by the woman who was supposed to love him without condition. Before the ghost of her had been an abstract thing. Something intangible and errant, a whisper or a memory, but now, as you look between the babe in your arms and the woman immortalized about the hearth you feel nothing but biting fury. A dangerous wrath only tempered by the stilling of the High Lord beside you.
It is Morrigan’s movement at the side of the room that rouses you from thought. “Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement?” The smile that graces her lips is brilliant and calculating and the sparkle in those umber eyes tells you she is genuine in his intentions.
“An arrangement?” You ask hesitantly, raising one arched brow to her.
“Yes.” The High Lord nods in agreement as Morrigan approaches you all casually, sauntering over to snatch a glass of wine from the decanter, “you’re free to leave the Library at any time but--”
“Help me take care of Nyx,” The High Lord beats you to it, his voice is soft and gentle and one of his fingers runs along the curve of Nyx’s ear as he begins to doze in your arms.
“High Lor-” You start, and you’re torn between declining outright and trying to dissuade them altogether, “Mor, I haven’t cared for a babe in well over 60 years.”
“Listen to me,” Rhysand’s violet gaze is unyielding and when you can no longer avert his gaze he takes on of your hands in his own and all but pleads with you, “take care of Nyx, for one year-- just until I get used to doing it on my own-- just until he starts his pre-schooling.”
The thought of him raising his son all alone pains you, a physical, bone deep ache that settles over you. You mourn for him then, for the love he thought he had, for all that he lost and then you mourn for the babe in your arms. For the son who will grow up without knowing his mother’s love. The High Lord looks at you through dark lashes and you note the tiredness in his eyes and the desperate sadness that seems to radiate from him these days and yet, he smile softly at you. As one might smile at something lovely and precious.
“And in return?” You ask peering down at him with sympathetic eyes when his whole body goes lax.
“I’ll help you get set up somewhere-- anywhere you want.” The words come quickly and if you were a cruel woman you would see what more he would offer you. But when he’s looking at you like you might just be his last hope you can’t find it in you to do anything but allow yourself to be persuaded by him.
You see a home; a cottage maybe, made of ancient stone and covered with climing ivy and jasmine. On the outskirts of Velaris, away from the artisans and market stalls of the main square, but close enough that you never feel truly alone. A home and it smells of mandarin and moonflowers, the sound of children laughing, and a garden blooming with violets in the garden in the leonine yellow heat of high summer. You smile wistfully and you swear you feel the gentle caress of a hand in your mind's eye.
“You can live here with us in the meantime” Rhysand continues gesturing to the house around you.
It’s warm and inviting and your body sings in response to the prospect.
“I don’t think that's a good--”
“Just until you find somewhere of your own.” He assures you standing to his full height before you. He casts a morose glance to the portrait that hangs about the hearth and you can see the moment his violet eyes meet painted cerulean.
“Rhys--” You warn gently.
“Please,” He turns to you again and the desperation in his tone has you yielding to him further, a gentle sweep over your face before settling on the sleeping babe in your arms, “please.” He repeats it once more and you swear your heart breaks just a little bit for him.
He had saved you once, you think. You had only been a girl then but you remember looking at him in that light; he looked like the shadow of some dark winged God-- avenging and angelic.
Perhaps this time the girl can save the God.
“A bargain then.” You muse lightly holding out a pinky finger to him.
Rhysand huffs out a laugh and curls his finger around your own. Nyx’s hand seems to flex in response, his own tiny pinky finger outstretched in agreement.
“A bargain.” With the simple confirmation you feel the gentle burn of a promise as it kisses its way up your wrist, and you see Rhysand’s own inky sigil as it glows faintly on the skin of his outstretched arm.
#acotar#acotar x reader#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#rhys x you#rhys x y/n#rhysand x you#rhysand x y/n#rhysand acotar#rhysand imagine#rhys acotar#rhys fanfic#rhysand headcanons
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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
#azriel smut#azriel x reader#rhysand smut#rhysand x reader#rhys x reader#cassian x reader#cassian smut#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra smut#eris x reader#lucien vanserra smut#lucien vanserra x reader#helion x reader#helion smut
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“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”
⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance
⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?
⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽♀️
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗
“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”
Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.
And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.
“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.
His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.
“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.
“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.
“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.
Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.
“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.
“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.
After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.
“What can I help you with today?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”
Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.
A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.
“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.
You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.
Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.
Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”
The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.
Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.
Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,
“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”
You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”
He raised his brow and you with amusement,
“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.
You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.
“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”
He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.
“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.
“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”
He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.
Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.
Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.
“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”
Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.
His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.
“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”
Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.
“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”
Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”
“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.
You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.
His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.
“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.
Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.
The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.
Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.
“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”
His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.
“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.
Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.
He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.
“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.
Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.
Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.
All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.
“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”
Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”
Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.
“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.
You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.
In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.
Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.
The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.
Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.
Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.
“I need all of you leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with the usual nonchalance.
Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.
“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested.
Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.
"There. I moved everything to your own table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.
“Darling, that looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.
“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.
He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.
“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”
You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,
“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”
You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.
Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,
“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”
You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.
“Rhysie, are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.
“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”
You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.
“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”
You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.
You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.
“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.
Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.
Something that should've been a mundane task.
However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your boobs moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.
A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.
Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.
Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost black shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.
He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.
Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.
Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.
You stirred, sensing Rhys kneeling by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his gaze locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.
The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.
Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.
“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”
Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.
His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.
A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.
It all felt so fucking good, you thought you’d come just by kissing him. You moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.
Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.
“no, t’s not working, please mate, please touch me. need you so badly”
Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.
The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.
“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“
His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.
You nodded, desperate for him.
“Please, let me make you a daddy.”
With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.
You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.
If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.
“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”
You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.
He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.
“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”
His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.
“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.
After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.
“Rhysie?”
“Yes, love?”
“That shower was a mighty waste. I think I need you to fuck me one more time, please?”
His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
He gave you two more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.
Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.
Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.
If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.
Let’s not even discuss when your belly started showing…
The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.
Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.
During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.
You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”
You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.
You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.
He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.
He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.
Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.
Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.
“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”
You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.
“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.
Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.
His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.
Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.
Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.
🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath
#talkswithamara#acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar imagine#rhys x reader#rhys x you#high lord rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand acotar#rhysand a court of thorns and roses#rhysand x reader#rhysand#rhysand sjm#cw breeding#azriel#morrigan#mor acotar#cassian#amren acotar#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#amren#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#mor x reader#amren x reader
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