#sjm fanfic
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A/N: okay so it’s been a good while since I’ve posted anything here on tumblr but the last year has been kinda insane as I’m nearing graduation, and my new internship is keeping me very busy.
I have two more one shots written and one half written, but after that I don’t know how long till I’m able to write again and post. Either way, I hope you enjoy this one shot!
But this love is brave and wild
Nesta had not intended to snoop through Cassian’s papers. He was — if she was honest with herself — the most organised out of them. Nesta Archeron being a messy person was something that had come as a surprise to Cassian and he teased her endlessly about it.
“I can find everything I need with no problem,” she had argued once when they were laying in bed, “therefore I am not messy. My organisation method is just different from yours General ‘I Colour Code My Folders’ Archeron”
“Whatever you say Nes,” Cassian had laughed, tightening his arms around her. Her mate, she had discovered, was an incorrigible cuddler “I still love you even if you don’t believe in the practicality of keeping things in one place”
She was always leaving books and hairpins all over the House, discarding her boots after training somewhere and forgetting to take them to their room, her notes about the Valkyries, military and Mind Stilling techniques forgotten and scattered in any surface available. The House was constantly gathering and leaving them on her desk, but it usually took her two to three days until she got the courage to sort and put them away properly. Cassian’s tidy and neatly arranged papers — sorted by importance and filled with carefully written notes — made his desk a stark contrast to her mountain of spread out ones in her side of the room they had transformed into their study room.
They had learned early on that they would never be capable of doing any actual work in their own room when their bed was only a few steps away.
Not that they had not fucked in each and every surface of the House, their study included. It just made the temptation of being all over each other slightly smaller.
Nesta had entered the study and was tidying her desk after the House had made the bathtub water cold and dumped on top of her towel the papers she had forgotten at the dining table.
“I was going to get them later,” Nesta had said, and in turn the military book Cassian had lent her had fallen on the little floating table she used when she wanted to read in the bathtub. She had been meaning to return it to him for over a week, the book forgotten amid her pile of romance books on her bedside table.
“Fine,” she had added, “I got the memo, I will put them in the study.”
So Nesta had gotten dressed in a bathrobe — she had every intention of going back to a bubble bath as a reward for tidying up her things — reordered her romance book stack, and set off for the study, grabbing any paper she had forgotten along the way. She was putting his book on the shelf when she noticed that Cassian had a few papers outside his drawer, something unusual to him.
“I better at least put the paperweight on top of them,” she thought to herself. She did not want to mess up her mate’s drawers and folders in her attempt to clean his desk.
Cassian had left in a hurry after lunch to Illyria — Emerie, Balthazar and him were trying to transform an old property into an orphanage and residence for those who had no place to go. For now the plans were to see how things would go in Windhaven, and then replicate the same in other camps. Apparently some problems had arisen concerning the renovations and he had left to sort things out. That explained why his space was uncharacteristically ‘messy’ for his standards.
Nesta lined his pens and was stacking the papers in a pile when one in particular caught her eye. Most of them were reports regarding Illyria or the Valkyries training plans, but the small piece of paper full of bullet points and notes scribbled in a hurry was neither.
“Is this a checklist of some sorts?” she mumbled to herself, reading it. If it was, Nesta could not make sense of it, for there were sometimes only a page number and an acronym in the same bullet point — “pg. 43, UTOT” — or phrases and even single words thrown around that made no sense — “ smell of rain”, “traditional dances”, “unicorns”, “pudding”, “peppermint”, “braids” and so on.
The list intrigued Nesta. Maybe Cassian was playing scattergories or some other game with Azriel or Gwyn again and had forgotten to throw it away. Nesta and Emerie had since long ago given up on playing with them — their competitive streak when combined was insufferable, and both girls had decided they would rather discuss their latest read than go through a discussion if “ice” could be considered a colour or not — but Cassian kept playing. According to him their bickering was amusing to watch despite the chances of him winning being rare.
Nesta wondered if Cassian had other lists somewhere, if together they could help her make sense of what they were exactly. She would have to ask him when he came back — which she hoped happened soon. It was almost time for dinner, and they always had their meals together. When they had an assignment that did not require them to stay more than a day away — Nesta had accepted the position of emissary, although she chose which places she wanted to go and with who she wanted to work with, not to say that it gave her a chance to travel for free — they always tried to come back in time to share meals together. And Cassian had also promised to bake a cake for her, nevermind they lived in a magical house who could do it itself.
So Nesta returned to her bubble bath, the hot water making her sigh with pleasure. A book appeared on her floating table moments later.
“Is this your way of saying ‘good job’ for organising my things?” she asked the House, which made a peppermint tea appear too.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and the faelight near the sink glowed brighter, as if it was saying ‘you’re welcome’.
Nesta ended up staying in the bath until her fingers resembled an old lady’s and she had finished her book. It was now late afternoon and no sight of Cassian. She debated starting another book, but she knew it would make her miss her mate even more. She always pictured him as the love interest in her novels.
“Pull yourself together,” Nesta said to herself “it has been less than a day. It is not like we have to be attached to each other all the time”
Truth to be told, Nesta had become rather clingy when it came to Cassian — not as much as him, she doubted there existed someone as affectionate and tender as her mate — but after their mate and wedding ceremony she found herself more comfortable expressing her feelings. She enjoyed having lazy days where she and Cassian would stay near the fireplace — either reading or just talking — or when Cassian would try and teach her how to cook — she now managed to not burn bread but that was it. He was always touching her — a hand on the small of her back, a brush of his hand against hers when he was passing her food, intertwining their legs when they were laying down, flicking her nose when she got annoyed at him… it seemed impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. And that did not bother Nesta at all. In fact, she loved it, and she had realised that she had denied herself of love and made herself so touch starved for so long that now that she could bask in it she was becoming greedy.
For her utter annoyance, Cassian did not return in time for dinner. Nesta ended up going to Feyre’s house to have dinner, and the sight of Nyx — who had just begun to walk — cheered her up a little, as did the chocolate cookies Elain had baked, although she could not help but think about the chocolate cake she had been promised.
Cassian ended up arriving at the House very late into the night, finding Nesta on their bed buried beneath furs, even with the fire lowly crackling in the hearth.
“Hello Nes,” Cassian greeted his mate the second he stepped inside their room, leaving a kiss on top of her head to not interrupt her reading.
“You are late,” was all she said, turning a page. She had ended up choosing one of his war texts to keep herself busy, but his scrawled notes on the margins of the pages did not help her longing.
“I am sorry sweetheart,” he kneeled on the floor beside their bed, taking her free hand on his and playing with her wedding band “Things at Windhaven took longer to resolve than I had intended and Emerie and Balthazar wanted to go over some new plans”
“What can I do to make you forgive me?” Cassian kissed her fingers, giving her his best puppy eyes.
“For starters you can take a bath,” Nesta wrinkled her nose at the dried mud on his boots “And dry your hair properly, I would rather not have you winning about feeling sick later”
“As you wish, Lady Death. Even if the idea of being bedridden and having you take care of me is very tempting” he said with a wink “I will leave you to your book in the meantime.”
Cassian came back less than ten minutes later, leathers gone in favour of soft cotton pants and no shirt, drying his hair with a towel.
“Bath taken and dirty boots have been put away,” he declared, placing the towel on a chair — the House vanishing it moments later — and grabbing a comb.
He sat beside Nesta on the bed, not having to say anything, only extending the brush in her direction. It had become natural to care for each other’s hair. Nesta still remembered the day she had asked her mate for help with the pins keeping her braid in place, Cassian almost falling in his rush to get to her. He had tenderly taken each one out, massaging her scalp later and carefully brushing her hair.
And the next time they had taken a bath together he had grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair before she could even move. Nesta had almost fallen asleep in the tub with the way he gently shampooed and rinsed her hair. Cassian had confessed to her one day that he had an unhealthy obsession with her hair.
“Oh I know,” she had said with a small secretive smile “I see how you look at me when I am braiding it”.
She also remembered the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down and had called it beautiful, making her blush furiously. And since he began taking care of it Nesta could swear that it had gotten stronger and shinier.
Considering how silky and shiny his hair was, it did not surprise her at all.
Nesta, it turned out, also had an unhealthy obsession with her mate’s hair.
She enjoyed washing and combing it, be it after a bath or after he had come back from a flight from somewhere. She enjoyed learning new braids to braid his hair, especially now that Emerie was teaching her traditional Illyrian hairstyles. She had gotten interested after she saw his hair for their wedding-mate ceremony.
“The Illyrans take great pride in their rituals,” Emerie had told her during the party after the ceremony “Back when we were constantly at war, many years ago during Enalius time, the wives of the warriors would braid tokens of good luck and protection for their husbands. Those with long hair also asked them to apply that pattern to their hairstyle, and we integrated in our culture the costume of different braid patterns depending on the occasion: wars, festivals and ceremonies such as burials and weddings”
“The hairstyle Cassian has now is the common braid style used at wedding ceremonies at Windhaven” Emerie had given her a soft smile “Cassian has no living female relatives, so he asked me to do it for him. I’ve never seen him sit so still for so long”
“Could you teach me?” Nesta had asked, feeling shy all of a sudden “I would like to learn them all so I can braid his hair… and our children’s when the time comes.”
“Of course,” her friend had said, and now whenever they had time Emerie would teach her.
Nesta slowly unknotted Cassian’s hair, and by the way he sighed she knew it would not take long for him to fall asleep.
“All done,” she declared, placing the comb near her book on the bedside table.
“Thank you, Nes” he said, slipping under the furs. He intertwined their legs, hugging her close to himself and burying his face on her neck.
Nesta sighed, instantly feeling warmer. Cassian was like a walking furnace, and even without a shirt he was way warmer than her.
“Am I forgiven now, xe nhia?” he asked, nuzzling her neck “I have bathed, dried my hair and am now fulfilling my duties as your personal Illyrian heater.”
“Perhaps.” she ran her fingers over his arm wrapped around her “You do own me a cake, which I was looking very forward to”
“What if I also made you pudding,” he began trailing kisses over her shoulder “would you like that xe r-endy?”
The terms of endearment in Illyrian made her feel so warm and giddy that Nesta almost let slide one word Cassian had said: pudding.
It was one of the words written on that piece of paper, and now she had the perfect opportunity to ask about it.
“Funny of you to ask me about pudding,” she began nonchalantly “I read something about it today”
“You did?” she could hear the surprise in his voice “Please tell me you were not attempting to cook, we all know how it went last time”
“I set fire to the kitchen one time and you never let it go,” she ruffed with annoyance “No, I did not attempt to cook. But I did find a rather interesting and confusing list with the word pudding on it.”
“What,” Cassian raised his head from her shoulder, and Nesta turned around on his arms to look at him.
“I was tidying up my things when I noticed your desk was uncharacteristically messy. I had only planned to put a paper weight on your papers to hold them down but I ended up reading your list,”
“I am sorry if I did not respect your privacy,” Nesta added in a rush, afraid Cassian might get angry “I did not mean to pry but my curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading it.”
“I am not mad xe nhia,” Cassian said with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “You are free to read any and all papers I have. I have nothing to hide, especially from my mate.”
“I am just embarrassed. That is all” he added, and she could see a faint blush dusting his light brown skin.
“Why would you be embarrassed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.
“Because,” he took a deep breath “that was one of the lists I made of topics I wanted to talk with you about. Ever since I met you back when you were human and I used to collect the queen’s letters from you, ever since then I would think of fake conversations and scenarios, building entire conversations inside my head so I could impress you with my comebacks.”
“So that time you stayed circling the house for ten minutes…” she inquired.
“I was compiling a list of chosen insults to throw your way, responses to an invented argument” he groaned, hiding his face on her shoulder “Like a complete fool.”
“You did this back when I was human?” Nesta asked, her love for her big kind hearted mate growing impossibly bigger.
“I never stopped, which might make me even a bigger fool than I was back then,” he admitted, face still hidden “Even after that, when you were Made and I used the excuse of exercising my wings to come and see you, and being together with you felt both so close yet so far given the circumstances”
“Cassian…”
“And even later, when we started living at the House and you were going through so much, trying to get better… I kept coming up with them. Topics I wanted to discuss with you, when we were together but not together. When it was just sex, and I was willing to take whatever you gave me because a little of your time, a little of you, was infinitely better than nothing at all.”
“Conversations we could have had, that I wanted us to have. Issues that I wanted to get your opinion on, if only I was not such a coward. It was always so difficult— I was so scared of ruining whatever I had managed to build with you, of losing you forever” he sighed, finally raising his head “I kept all of them. All of the lists. And I keep finding new things I want to talk with you about and since we got together it seems the list never stops growing. As if I am making up for the time lost, because now we do have that time”
Nesta did not know what to say in answer to that. Sometimes, when she had a bad day and felt like the old bitter and angry Nesta — the one who drowned her problems in alcohol and refused to let herself feel anything good at all — she had to remind herself that she was deserving of the love she had now. That she was deserving of her sisters — the old and the new ones — and of her friends and family.
That she was deserving of such a good male like Cassian. Her mate, her husband, her friend and her family.
“You can laugh if you want,” Cassian said, sounding a bit nervous about her reaction “Cauldron knows I must sound like a madman creating make believe arguments”
“Why would I laugh when my mate loves me so much that he cannot help but think of me literally every single moment?” Nesta arched an eyebrow, letting all of her love and adoration for him shine through their bond.
“What you just said is book love interest level, Cassian” she kissed him, burying her hands in his hair “I would be a fool to laugh.”
Nesta could see the relief in his eyes and she smiled. “You can ask me anything you want to know, anytime. Especially if it means you will cook more sweets for me, xe porang termireco”
Cassian groaned, rolling them so his weight pressed her down deliciously.
“You will be the death of me, Lady Death” he whispered, nipping at her ear.
“I thought you were tired from your flight” she breathed as he started kissing her neck.
“You know what you speaking Illyrian does to me,” he argued, “especially when you call me your handsome husband ”
And Nesta made sure to call him plenty of things in Illyrian in the next hours, both of them falling asleep only when the sun was rising.
•
tag list: @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @arinbelle @letstakethedawn @katekatpattywack @nestaarcheron @imagine-me @sv0430 @starryblueskies7 @live-the-fangirl-life @valkyriewarriors @readskk @wannawriteyouabook @imwritingthesewords @rainbowcheetah512 @katekatpattywack @castielspelvis
[Reblogs/likes/comments are always welcomed!!]
#nessian#nesta x cassian#nesta archeron#cassian#acosf#a court of silver flames#post acosf#sarah j maas#sjmaas#sjm fanfic
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headcanons about azriel’s wings because I can’t sleep and they’re all I can think about
- first of all, he definitely has the largest wingspan, but he’s not cocky about it and let’s his brothers think that theirs are bigger
- they twitch when he’s irritated, or pissed off, or even sometimes when he’s turned on
- he’ll shoot one out in front of you so you don’t walk away from him or to prevent you from going any further somewhere else
- he uses them to shield you from things or other people and it has you standing on your tippy toes to try and look over them but they’re so damn huge that you can’t
- he’ll curl one around you to guide you closer to his side
- they flare slightly to show his dominance whenever another male looks at you a little too long for his liking and it always has you rolling your eyes at him
- he’s so needy and when you’re not paying attention to him, he’ll flap them, sending a gust of air in your direction and he smiles when you finally address him, even if it’s just to scold him for ruining your hair
- he drapes one across you while you sleep and it’s just like a second blanket
- you’re the first and only one besides healers he allows to ever touch his wings
- you’ll sit at the edge of the bathtub and clean them for him because “you get all the hard to reach places”
- and don’t even get me started on wingplay…
- the first time you gently stroke a particularly sensitive spot, he whimpers, yes whimpers
- you like to dance your fingertips along the membrane just to see his eyes closed and face scrunched up
- you’ll lean to kiss them because they’re just so beautiful and he’s coming undone within seconds
- there are plenty of times that you’ve made him finish by just playing with his wings
- anyway…
- the first time he comes to your small studio apartment, they bump into everything and you’re giggling as he tries to catch all the things that are falling off counters and shelves
- they slump when you’re upset with him or just sad in general because he hates seeing you like that
- similarly, they perk up whenever he sees you or hears your voice or laughter
- he’ll reach out and gently stroke one down your spine just to let you know he’s there
- he likes to cocoon you in them often, because he says it feels like it’s just you and him in the whole wide world
there’s a lot more but you get the gist
#azriel#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger#azriel imagine#azriel headcanons#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar imagine#acotar headcanon#bat boys#sjmaas#sjm books#sjm fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fandom#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of wings and ruin#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x oc#azriel smut#azriel fluff#azriel fic#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#sarah j. maas
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Word count: 3200+
Warnings: a bit of violence
Part XVII | Part XIX
You jolted awake, heaving, skin sticky with a cold sweat. Your trembling fingers found the pendant safely hidden under your clothes. It was dream, another nightmare, you thought at first as your sight focused on the light colored chiffon curtains around the bed.
You tried to calm down, inhaling deeply. But it didn't work, panic gripped on your trembling heart that beat too fast. Why it was harder than usual? Your throat was closing, you couldn't breathe. Why hadn't you forgot it as soon as you opened your eyes?
"Y/N!" A males voice cried out. Before you were able to comprehend what's happening, mattress dipped and strong arms wrapped around you. "Thank the Mother."
You finally breathed in. You had to repeat it several times to be able to speak out.
"Rhys," you whispered, your voice hoarse. Your brother was with you. You were safe. The panic began to dissipate. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you weren't the only one crying. Rhysand sobbed, his grip growing stronger.
You stayed like this until both of you calmed down. You didn't speak, just held each other.
"I'm so sorry," Rhysand whispered as he pulled away to look down at you. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have revived those memories."
No dreams, but memories. That's why it didn't disappear after you woke up. You closed your eye and immediately opened them because the horrors started to play out behind your eyelids again.
For the first time in your life you saw Rhys struggling to find words. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. You finally looked at him properly.
Rhysand looked terrible. Red eyes with dark circles under, dishevelled hair, wrinkled clothes that remembered better times. He was a mess, much messier than after all-day training in the camp.
For Cauldron's sake, you were so confused. You pressed palms to your face. The horrible headache was back, too.
"Y/N, are you okay? Tell me what should I do? Do you need something?" Rhysand was immediately cradling you.
"I have just this insane headache," you rasped.
"Do you want that powder from Madja?"
You nodded without thinking twice. Small bottle and glass of water appeared on the nightstand. Rhys added a spoonful of powder to the glass, mixed it and handed the glass to you. You gratefully drank it. It worked almost immediately. You sighed with relieve.
"You okay?" You asked Rhys. "You look.. tired at best."
"You were unconscious for last five days. I couldn't leave you alone. It's all my fault.."
"Five days?" you choked on water. "It doesn't matter. Anyway. Don't you dare to blame yourself. I was the one who asked you to do that."
"It was so.." Rhysand fisted on his hair. "If those bastards weren't already dead, I would.." He was so angry that air around him crackled with power.
But you didn't have a chance to talk with him more as a roar came somewhere from the hallway. "Where is she?"
Both of you turned to the door at the same moment, eyes wide. Rhysand was about to stand and go to see what was going on down there when the door flew open and hit the wall hard.
On the threshold stood Azriel. His eyes dark, face full of rage, body ready to strike. The shadows wildly swirled around him, wings stretched behind his shoulders. He was so scary, looking like the embodiment of death itself. If you didn't know him, you would be so panic-stricken, unable to even blink. His hazel eyes scanned over you still in the bed.
In a blink of eye he had Rhysand pinned to the wall, his feet in the air. "What did you do to her?!" he growled, baring teeth at him. Blue siphons on his leathers shone dangerously.
Your brother struggled against his grip, his lips turning blue, but he didn't use any magic to protect himself. Azriel was so blinded with the rage he would kill him and Rhys would allow it. You had to stop him somehow.
You leapt from bed and tried to pull his muscular arm away from Rhys' throat. "Az, calm down," you whined, but you didn't make him move for even an inch. "Azriel!"
Rhysand's eyes began rolling back, now whole his face was bluish.
"Azriel! Let him go!" You were pulling on his arm even more furiously now, your nails digging into his flesh. You drew blood. Only then his gaze moved to you and his arm fell back.
Rhysand fell to the ground gasping for air and coughing. You knelt beside him, rubbing on his back. "Rhys, are you okay?" He just nodded still panting and coughing.
"Are you crazy?" you turned to Azriel. "You could kill him."
"That's exactly what I wanted to do," he retorted, glaring down at his High Lord angrily. "He promised to not push you further. You weren't ready for that and he fucking knew it."
"I asked him to do that!" You shouted back.
At that moment Feyre appeared in the door. She was dirty from a paint, apparently somebody ran to her studio in the city to alert her after Azriel arrived.
"Rhys," she cried out when she saw him panting on the ground and ran to him.
You both helped him stood up and get to the door. Feyre gave you a worried look. A silent question. You just shook your head and smile and so she took your brother to their room, leaving you alone with Shadowsinger.
Azriel glared after him, promise of death in his eyes.
"Don't even think about that," you warned him. "It was my decision. I went to him. If you need to vent your anger on someone, here I am."
He grumbled something you didn't understand and stayed silent with hands crossed on his board chest, hazel eyes watching you.
You gazed back at him.
"How do you feel?" he asked much calmer.
You raised a brow at him.
"What?"
"You were about to kill Rhys. Don't I deserve the same?"
His mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. "It's different."
"How?"
"Simply different."
You angrily glared at him until the spymaster did unthinkable thing. He backed and disappeared in his shadows without another word.
Exhausted you sat down and pulled knees to your chest. As it became your habit, you took the pendant out and played with it. Now you knew. You regained the last bit of your memory. You had everything as you'd planned. You were trying to avoid thinking about the horrors of the last night your mother was alive and rather tried to focus on finding a way how to get to Spring Court.
That night you couldn't sleep. You aimlessly wandered through the house until you found yourself in front of Rhys' and Feyre's bedroom. You were about to knock on the door, but you changed your mind at the last second and decided to go to the garden.
The door behind you opened quietly and Feyre came out. "Oh, it's you," she smiled tiredly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."
She just waved a hand. "I was about to get some tea. Will you join me?"
You nodded and a few moments later both of you were seated in the sitting room with steaming cup of tea in hand.
"How is Rhys?"
"Oh," Feyre smiled. "You don't need to worry about him. They're fighting quite often. He's fine, sleeping like a baby at the moment. By the morning he won't have a single bruise."
You shook your head. "It's my fault. Azriel burst out like that because of what I asked Rhys to do."
"You did nothing wrong. Anyway, it was up to you to decide that. Azriel can't be angry for that."
You sipped your tea while Feyre watched you, face tense with worry. "Are you okay?"
You tried to smile, but it turned into grimace. "I will be."
Feyre sighed. "I guess you can't sleep. Rhys showed me what happened there. It was.. well.. more than terrible. If you would like to talk about it.." she offered gently.
You thanked her and this time you managed to smile properly. "It's enough that you are here."
She nodded. You finished your tea mostly in silence, just occasionally doing some small talk. That's how you found out there would be Starfall in a week.
Starfall, the biggest and most beautiful celebration in Night Court. How could you forget about that? An idea began to form in your head.
"Who will come?" you asked subtly.
"As usual. It will be us, my sisters, some friends and people from the city," Feyre smiled, already imagining the party.
"Friends?"
"Yes, Winter Court's High Lord with his wife and few generals. Helion will come and a few friends from Summer Court. Lucien should be here, too." Feyre was counting on fingers, roaming through the list in her head, but you stopped listening.
You already heard what you needed. Lucien would be here. Such a big party was a good occasion to disappear without being noticed for hour or two. It should give you enough time to speak with Tamlin, if things went in your favor.
Thinking about all possible alternatives you even forgot about the horrors of your past and spent that week mostly peacefully.
Evening of Starfall
You stood in your room in front of the tall mirror, admiring yourself. Mor convinced you to go shopping dresses with her and this was what you ended up with. The dress she'd chosen for you for this event was beautiful. It was very simple long dress made of dark blue almost black velvet, the hem of skirt was decorated with shiny little stones that in narrowing chains rose up to your waist. It reminded a night sky full of shooting stars. Indeed, very fitting for today's evening.
She also insisted on helping with your make-up and hair. Since she left a few minutes ago, you had been standing in front of the mirror looking at your reflection. It wasn't like it didn't suit you. To be honest, it suited you a lot, you felt almost beautiful, but this wasn't you. It was too much.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. "Are you ready?" Rhysand's voice shouted from behind the door.
"Yes," you answered. Door opened and Rhys strolled in.
As soon as he found you, his eyes widened. He froze on the spot, in silence gazing at you.
"What?" You raised a brow at him. "Is it too much?"
He slowly shook his head looking for his voice. "No, it's perfect. You're beautiful. I've never thought I will get a chance to see my baby sister like this. Tonight you'll be the most beautiful among the stars."
You frowned at him, blushing fiercely. "You are such an ass."
"I'm just honest," he grinned. "I can't wait to see Azriel's expression when he sees you."
You rather said nothing to that. Ever since he revived your memories, he kept making small remarks about Azriel and you. No need to say that the very next day after Azriel almost killed him, they were again brothers, talking as if nothing had happened.
"Let's go. I can't wait to show my Starshine to my friends," he teased you.
Party was held as always in the House of Wind. This was your first time visiting here since you came back, but you had to say that although Rhys had changed the furniture and decorations, the house itself hadn't changed that much. You still could easily navigate through narrow halls and numbers of rooms here.
Rhys' family was gathered in a big private sitting room. As soon as the two of you walked in all eyes turned on you.
Mor had already seen you, so she wasn't so surprised and sent you just a cheeky grin. Cassian's sonorous voice was the loudest one. He left his mate at the bar and hurrying to you he lifted you up, spinning with you.
"Our lil' sis finally joined the gang," he laughed as he put you down. "Look at you! You're so pretty, dove."
Laughing you pushed him away when he tried to kiss your cheek. Your face felt even hotter than after Rhysand complimented you. "Stop that, you big bear. You'll destroy Mor's hard work."
"You look amazing," Feyre hugged you. Even Amren nodded approvingly. Next to her stood male you'd never seen before, but it wasn't hard to guess he was from different court and had a thing for her. He smiled politely at you, which you returned.
Elain stood with her sister at bar. She frowned at you and turned away. As long as she didn't make another scene, you didn't mind. Nesta, on the other hand, winked at you and smiled, sipping from her glass. It was surprising.
Balcony doors opened and Azriel walked in with a glass of whisky in hand. "What's -" When his eyes met yours he forgot what he was about say, gaping at you. Hand that held the glass dropped and its content spilled onto the floor, splattering his shoes and pants.
Rhysand and Cassian boomed with laughter, others turned around and hiding their amusement pretended to be occupied.
You spared him an embarrassing situation and walked away to Mor. You hadn't talked with him since he attacked Rhysand and honestly, you were still a bit bitter about that.
As the evening progressed, the party was in full swing. Rhys and Feyre disappeared, certainly having their private party on one of the smaller balconies. Cassian with Nesta also disappeared together. They visibly needed an alone time. The rest went down to have fun with the other guests.
You were alone on the higher balcony, pretending to observe the crowd below you. True was you were looking for a certain redhead. Feyre said Lucien would come, but you hadn't spotted him yet.
"Drink?" A deep voice spoke to your right. Shadowsinger waited just a few inches from you with two glasses of wine in hands, offering you one. You hadn't heard him to come.
You gave him a tight smile. "I don't drink."
"Oh," his cheeks tinted with pink. Both glasses disappeared. "You are stunning tonight." You ignored that comment. He leaned against railing, looking down. "Are you still angry with me?"
"Little bit," you answered honestly.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Well, at that moment I guess I did, but..I was angry. And so worried for you. Rhysand sent me on some damn mission that took weeks to accomplish. I couldn't see you for so long and the first thing I heard after returning home was that you aren't well, that you're unconscious because he returned you the last bits of your memories. He promised me to wait."
You placed your hand on his big scarred one. "As I already told you. It was my fault. I asked him to do so."
"Now I know. But back then.. I think I would react the same way even if I knew," he admitted."
"The three of you grew into brutes," you rolled your eyes.
He laughed, the sound so rare that you couldn't resist and had to look at him. He was handsome in the tailored suit. Even more than usually. Despite all hardships and wars that he survived, he still seemed young and innocent, just as you remembered him. Your heart stuttered, breathing became labored.
He had to hear that because he stopped laughing and looked down at you. Suddenly he seemed to be too close. The crowd below you gasped and went silent, all eyes turned to the sky. You did the same.
The show had began. Hundreds of spirits travelled above you. A warm wing wrapped around your shoulders, big hand landed on your waist. You turned to Azriel, his shiny eyes already on you. Now he was even closer than before. You could feel his warm breath full of freshness and woody smell of whisky on your face, strands of his hair tickling your forehead.
It threw you centuries back, when the two of you stood on the exactly same spot in the exactly same position. You were just a young female, still teenager, crazily in love with the handsome young male, best friend of your older brother, who loved you deeply. Your knees buckled just like they did back then, breath caught in your throat. His full lips brushed over yours. A moan made its way through your parted lips. You felt so lightheaded and drawn to him.
But..
This was wrong. You weren't that young female anymore. You didn't feel the same way anymore. Your heart changed. You were here on a mission. You blinked the haziness of your mind away.
"I'm sorry," you breathed out and ran away, leaving confused Azriel behind. He didn't try to chase after you nor he stopped you.
You ran until you got two floors lower and only then you stopped in one of the alcoves in the hallway to catch your breath. You forbade yourself to think about what just happened on the balcony.
You were upset. You needed to find Lucien quickly, before the party would be over and you miss the best chance. You walked down the hall and turn the corner just in time to see hair as bright as a fire disappear in one of the doors.
You stalked closer and carefully peeked in. You were lucky, it was Lucien. He stood with his back to the doors, pouring some alcohol to the glass. He was alone. You slipped in and closed the doors behind you.
Startled he turned to you. "It's you? You should have said something. You move around like a ghost. One day somebody gets a heart attack because of you." He turned his attention back to the drink. He seemed to be in a bad mood.
"I was looking for you."
"Really?" He took quite big gulp of liquor grimacing. "So congratulations. You found me."
"Are you okay?"
"Nothing I couldn't solve myself," he snapped. "What do you want from me?"
"I need you to take me to Spring Court." His brows raised, both russet and gold eye snapped back to you.
"You what?"
"You heard me."
Lucien laughed. "Sure. And next time I meet Rhysand, he will chop me into small pieces and feed me to some beasts. Thanks, no."
"He doesn't have to know you helped me."
Lucien tsked, but he listened. "All I want from you is that you take me to Tamlin. That's all. After that you can return to the party and pretend you haven't seen me at all."
"Why?"
"You said it yourself. Tamlin needs help and I can help him. Do I need any other reason?"
He looked you over from head to toe with narrowed eyes, thinking. A muscle pulsed on his tightened jaw. "Okay. How do you imagine we get out of here?"
It surprised you. You thought he would be harder to convince to do something so crazy and dangerous.
And so you presented him your plan. It was very simple: find unused balcony far away from prying eyes and winnow. You already had an idea which rooms with balconies would be safe for your escape.
Lucien agreed and obediently followed you through halls. You were already so close to the one of the empty rooms when a deep voice came from behind you.
"Where do you think you are going?"
Taglist:
@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot
#english isnt my first language#tamlin fanfiction#tamlin x reader#tamlin acotar#tamlin#pro tamlin#azriel angst#rhysand#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel#feyre#elain archeron#nesta archeron#morrigan#cassian acotar#amren#lucien vanserra#acotar fanfiction#acotar#sarah j maas#sjm fanfic
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For a request, what if you're terrified of spiders and one night you find one in your bedroom? Panic, maybe even some screaming and Azriel comes barging in, Truth-Teller in his hand, ready to annihilate whoever dared to hurt you, thinking you're in real danger? Something cute and funny like that?
thank you so much for requesting this, anon! i had so much fun writing this :) i hope it is to your liking!
as always, i’m open to any feedback so do let me know what you think. as you can see, recently i’m on a kinda writing streak hehe so i’ll probably post some more later tonight/tomorrow! also, as before i apologize for any mistakes - english isn’t my first language
genre: fluff
warnings: spiders?
word count: 1424
pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Fear of spiders, and all
You hummed in contentment as you turned the page of the novel you were reading. This was just the kind of slow evening you enjoyed the most, the cool spring breeze flowing through the window, your mate in the kitchen cooking something for the two of you to snack on, and your heart warmed at the domesticity of it all. After the war with Hybern and the chaos concerning it, all you craved was to go back to the slow life you and Azriel tried to lead, without thinking of any possible dangers or threats. This was normal, so normal, and you loved the idea of that.
As you tried to focus back on the words on the page you saw a flash of a small black figure in your periphery. You froze and slowly turned your head to the left, and there on the bedside table you saw it. A spider. And they were one the things you feared the most, which sounds sort of ironic considering you’re one of the most skilled warriors of the Night Court, who knows if not even the whole Prythian. However, that conclusion did not stop you from making an excruciatingly high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream. You crawled from under the covers and jumped off the bed, on the floor, a terrified expression on your features. As you continued screaming the small creature kept crawling around, absolutely unphased. Your bare feet were getting cold on the hardwood floors, as you stumbled back, your back hitting the cold wall behind you.
It was a matter of seconds before Azriel barged into your shared bedroom, his shadows pulled taut, ready to alert him of what had put you in danger, his navy blue siphones blazing, Truth-Teller in hand. Azriel scanned the room for any possible threats, his posture ready to kill whoever dared terrify you so much.
When he didn’t notice anything unusual he turned to face you, frowning, concerned lacing his hazel eyes.
“What is it?” he said carefully, and you wondered how he, of all people, the spymaster, managed to miss the monster unawarely crawling on your bedside table “There!” your voice still high-pitched as you pointed toward the creature. Az seemed to have noticed the spider this time, his shoulders slightly slumping as he approached the creature that terrified you so much. He strapped the dagger back to his thigh, and broke down laughing, which caused you to frown and glare at him “What the fuck are you laughing at?” you asked, still alert and scared, your back pressing onto the stone wall.
“Is this what scared you so much, sweetheart?” that caused your frown to deepen as you didn’t quite understand why he even asked. “Yes? Kill it or something, please” you asked, voice small, Azriel’s presence always comforting you, but even it not quite managing to ease your fear of spiders. He chuckled and looked at you, love and adoration in his eyes, not that you could notice it when the spider was still crawling about so close to you, putting you at unease.
He made his way out of the room and you followed suit, clutching his muscled arm as you asked in confusion “Where do you think you’re going?” “To deal with that ever so terrifying creature, love?” His teasing made a crase form in between your brows, but you didn’t bother to ask any deeper as you walked to the kitchen, Azriel’s arm clutched in between your two, cradled close to your chest. “I hate to ask this, I really do, but you need to let go of me, I’m afraid” his eyes burning into you, amusement shining in them, as he cupped your cheek with one of his scarred hands, and kissed the top of your nose. You obeyed and perched up on the kitchen island, content about being away from the spider. Az entered your shared bedroom, a book and cup in hand, which made you ever so slightly confused but you chose to just shrug it off.
Seconds later he was heading for the garden, holding the book, on top of which sat a glass, turned upside down, making for a cage for the spider. And now at the sight of that, it was your turn to chuckle. Because the thought of the feared Shadowsinger Spymaster, strongest Illyrian in existence, and one of the most powerful men ever, gently holding a spider carrying it in order to save it from his terrified girlfriend, was, well quite bemusing. You smiled in adoration at him, and at the fact that this soft side of him was reserved for you only, and you couldn’t help but feel special.
As he was entering the house, he slightly furrowed his brows at your amusement, eyes shining in confusion. He placed the items he used to help the spider on the counter next to you, and got closer to you as you sat perched on the island. He put his hands on your waist and stood between your legs as his shadows surrounded you, gently playing with your hair and the hem of your shirt, as if soothing, comforting you. Azriel, confused as ever, as to why it was now you laughing, asked “What?” “Nothing” you replied, drawing out the syllables and he frowned at your teasing. “Need I remind you that you were the one literally screaming at a completely harmless creature, the size smaller than that of a nail?” he teased, eyebrows raised high as he pulled you closer to him, and just as he was about to open his mouth, probably to tease you further, you pressed your lips against his and kissed him.
He stilled for a fraction of a second, as if surprised but quickly took the initiative, deepening the kiss. You moaned slightly as his tongue explored the depths of your mouth, and pulled on his hair. His arms circled around you, pressing you impossibly closer to him. You gently bit his lower lip, and it was his time to sigh, and moments later you were pulling away to catch a breath. He looked at you, his eyes burning into your figure so deeply, rendering you afraid about melting under his gaze. “Can’t say I don’t enjoy getting shut up like this” he breathed and you smiled lightly.
Concerned laced his features as he put a strand of hair behind your ear “Are you alright now?” you nodded your head eagerly, your heartbeat finally slowing back to normal. He looked at you for a bit longer, as if waiting for any fear or discomfort to appear on your face. When he made sure you were, indeed, perfectly fine, it was him reaching down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss and quickly you were putting your legs around his waist, and pressing your chest to his. He swiftly picked you up and carried you toward the couch where he set you down, breaking the kiss.
“Snacks?” he suggested but you stayed there in silence, eyes wide, your breath not quite back yet. He chuckled and turned around saying “I’ll take that as a yes” and went into the kitchen, leaving some of his shadows to gently caress your skin.
Your gaze was kept on him as he went into your bedroom, and seconds later returned with your long forgotten book in one hand, and a bowl of your favorite snacks in the other. He made his way to sit next to you, hand the bowl into your hands and lay the both of you down on the narrow couch, causing you to lay basically on top of him. He put an arm around your waist and draped a wing over you, creating some warmth. You tucked yourself into him, humming at the warmth radiating from his body. He gave you back your book and asked “Are we reading?” you looked at him over your shoulder “You want to read with me?” a warm sensation filling your chest at the domesticity of this. “Why, of course. What if there’s another spider somewhere here? I need to protect you from those vile, dangerous monsters-” you smacked his shoulders “Oh, shut up already” you murmured causing him to let out a laugh. “Sorry, I’m sorry! I won’t tease you anymore, promise,” he said, kissing the back of your head, breathing in your scent “You know I love you, with the fear of spiders and all.” You huffed but silently basked in the still needed comfort of your mate. “I love you too.”
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#azriel#azriel fluff#azriel acotar#azriel x you#rhysand acotar#acotar fandom#acotar fanfiction#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#sarah j maas#sjm books#sjm fanfic
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Hell Hath No Fury (Eris x Reader) SMUT
A/N: First time writing for Eris, be kind <3
Based on this ask
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, Angst! (Slight mention of suicide at the very beginning)
W/C: 3k exactly
If you had known what this war would have meant for you, for your family, you would have killed yourself before it started.
Staring out the window of your forest home, wrapped in nothing but silken sheets as you awaited your mates return you wondered what it felt like to be a female like Mor, or Feyre, fighting alongside the people they loved.
You supposed Eris would never let you find out.
He was terrified of losing you, this much you knew. He often woke at night panicked that you had disappeared, desperately tossing in the sheets trying to get to your sleeping form not far away. On these nights, he would cling to you until dawn broke and he was sure you were real.
When war came, his fears only grew. Grew so immensely that he begged and pleaded with you to stay home. To let him fight for you this time as you had fought for him on those nights. This was different though wasn’t it?
Waiting on a soldier to return from war was a much more difficult feat than soothing him back to sleep.
Rain pelted the windowpanes and the sky beyond your forest home grew dark. The house was so quiet these days, so void of life, so void of love.
You had only seen your crimson haired lover once since the beginning of this mess with Hybern, and that night had been filled with fucking and sobbing so intense you were sure you would never recover.
That night was months ago, and his side of the bed had grown cold in his absence. He had written to you, of course. The letters were piled up on your nightstand, stained with tear smudged ink. From what he was allowed to write, the conflict (as he called it) was at a standstill.
‘There are no winners or losers in war Starfire.’
He had written to you once, and you supposed this much was true. Death and destruction would reside no matter the result of this war, you only hoped that your mate would return, outcome be damned.
As the sun began to find her home in the western sky you pealed yourself from bed. The emerald green sheet stayed wrapped around you as you exited your once shared bedroom and made your way towards the kitchen for tea.
You hummed a pleasant tune, one that had been played by Beron’s orchestra the night of your mating ceremony all those years ago. You stirred your tea, thinking of the memory fondly.
Perhaps a book would take your mind off of things.
Turning to walk back to your bedroom you let out a strangled scream. The mug you held fell to the floor and crashed against the hardwood in an explosion of scalding water and clay.
“Azriel, you frightened me.”
The shadowsinger was dressed in head-to-toe black leathers, a dark hood dripping with rainwater covered a majority of his face though his large wings and glowing syphons clued you in on who he was. Shadows swept across the floor and into each individual room of your home, seeking out any company you may have had. When he did not make a noise, you grew concerned. You tightened your grip on the sheet around you and stepped backwards.
“Azriel… why are you here? Is Eris hurt?” Panic seeped into your voice and at this the shadowsinger looked up, his honeyed gaze finding your wide-eyed stare.
“Eris is fine, if not a bit concerned on where his loyalties lie.”
“What do you mean Az?”
You sent a tug down the bond, a question to your mate’s health that was met with a loving stroke in return. Your heart rate slowed only minutely.
“I apologize for this (Y/N), this is the last thing I wanted to do.” Azriel whispered, his shadows retreating within him once more.
You began to sweat then and backed up further, the small of your back being met with the counter behind you.
“Azriel you’re scaring me, what is going on?” You choked out. The next tug you sent through the bond was blind panic, like a drowning man grasping for a rope. Azriel didn’t even respond, just surged forward and slammed your head into the upper cabernets so hard that your vision blurred and faded.
“I’m so sorry.”
And then the world was spinning into nothing.
--
You awoke in a room that was entirely foreign. A window was opened somewhere, and the scents of jasmine and vanilla clued you in enough as to where you were. Gone were the familiar scents of pine and woodsmoke.
Your head was throbbing, a deep and painful throb that had you groaning and rolling over in the bed that did not belong to you.
White silk wrapped around your form and the fabric felt suffocating, too hot, too constricting, too foreign.
There was a forceful tug sent down the bond that had you gasping for air and sitting up stick straight in the bed. It was dark outside, the night sky lit with millions of stars that danced happily in their places.
In reply you sent down a panicked tug.
The effort to get out of the bed was excruciating, and when you were met with nothing but a locked door the fear you felt was beginning to be replaced with anger, thick and furious.
“RHYSAND. I KNOW YOU CAN FUCKING HEAR ME.”
Your screams were accompanied with banging on the oak door until your hands were bleeding and your nails were cracked. You collapsed to your knees and let out a choked sob. What the fuck was going on? These people were supposed to be your friends.
“(Y/N) you must know I am sorry. I have sent a healer to the palace. They should be there soon. This was a last resort I am so sorry.”
Rhysand’s voice filled your head and you snapped up your guards instantly.
“Fuck you Rhysand.”
Was the only reply you offered before effectively cutting off any further communication.
War was effectively driving you all mad it seemed. That was the only excuse you could come up with for the High Lord of the Nightcourt. Despite that possibility fear and anger had tight fists on your heart.
As promised a healer came, winnowing into the room as though you would have killed them for opening the door. As if you would have known how to escape if it was opened.
You let the pretty, pale haired healer do her work, it was not her fault you were here.
Sometime during her work a great series of screams began to filter down the hallway beyond your prison. Men, screaming and fighting, throwing things and hitting one another.
The healer (her name had been Tea maybe?) grasped your hands tightly and made to stand in between your frame and the door as though her lithe body would have been able to protect you from any incoming harm.
And then you felt it.
Anxious, fearful, tugs pulling on the bond growing stronger and stronger by the second.
You let out a strangled laugh and ran to the door, resuming the pounding and screaming, effectively destroying all the work the healer had done on your hand’s moments before.
“ERIS, IM HERE.”
You were crying again, desperate to lay your eyes on him, to go home. Frantic footsteps sounded beyond the door and the next tug on the bond was enough to bring you to your knees.
“Move away from the door.”
And oh, gods it was him.
You stumbled away from the door. The healer herded you in a corner, as if the fae that would enter was going to bring the two of you harm.
With a great slam of his shoulder Eris was tumbling into the room, followed shortly by Azriel who’s face had seen better days.
Eris looked frantically around the room and when his eyes landed on your form huddled in a corner his shoulders relaxed. Rushing to you he pushed past the healer and fell to his knees before you.
His hands cupped your face and his jaw tightened when he noticed the nasty bruise forming on your forehead and the blood that was caked into your fingernails. A low growl left his throat but was quickly cut off when you threw your sobbing form into his arms and clung to him desperately.
With no further words the red headed male lifted your body to his chest and stood, cradling you to him tightly. You tucked your head into his chest and inhaled the earthy musk that was solely him.
“Tell Rhysand I will be back later to discuss this bullshit.” Eris growled, presumably to Azriel. “Touch her again and I will not hesitate to ruin this alliance. I will fucking kill you.”
And then he was winnowing you away. To Home.
He didn’t hesitate when you were safely in the walls of your home. He fell to the floor of your living room, still cradling you, and began to sob. His hands stroked your hair and ran deftly over your body, terrified that you were not really there, just a trick of the imagination.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
He repeated over and over, his face buried in your hair, his tears dampening the strands. You were shaking, clinging to him with every ounce of strength you had, terrified that he would leave the moment he knew you were alright.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, a teary-eyed mess on your floor. He only moved when the sun began to rise, and your body had stopped producing shuddering sobs. Gently, ever so gently he carried you to the bedroom you had been sleeping in alone for so long. And gently, ever so gently he lowered you into the sheets, retrieving a new comforter from a closet somewhere. After removing his leathers, he slid into the sheets beside you, pulling your frame into his with one arm.
The two of you slept that way for what seemed like days. Your bodies exhausted from fear and anxiety thicker than mud.
When you finally peeled your eyes open, it was pitch black in your room, and the only sound was Eris’s breaths coming in short and fast, a sure sign he was deep in a dreamland. You rolled over to face him and found comfort in the delicate image that was his sleeping figure. Sleep was one of the only moments where your mate’s features were relaxed. The curve of his jaw was slack, and his mouth was not set in its signature straight line. His brows were lowered and the furrow in his brow had dissipated entirely. You ran a thumb over his lips and curled further into his side, desperate to have him closer.
The hand that was slung over your waist tightened its grip and began to rub soothing circles in the exposed skin.
“I am so sorry Starfire…” He whispered; voice groggy from sleep. His eyes were still closed when he pressed his forehead into your own. The furrow had returned to his brow and his jaw was tight once more.
You stroked his hair, drawing your hand down to cup his chin and force his gaze to yours. Despite the darkness in the room, you read his face easily. He was terrified, angry, and confused.
“You have nothing to apologize for Eris, those actions were not your own, but the actions of a man crazed by war and desperate to keep his people safe.”
“Do not defend him lover. His actions are inexcusable.”
“I know, but I don’t want to think about it. Please.” You swallowed thickly and found the hand that was still rubbing circles into your waist. Locking eyes with your mate you took his hand in your own and guided it to the dampened apex of your legs. “Not when I have not seen you in months.”
When his fingers made contact with the wetness there, he released a low growl and captured your lips in a kiss. It was gentle, a silent promise that harm would not reach you again.
He did not hesitate in giving you what you want. Slowly, he began to rub circles into your clit, sliding his fingers through the wetness there.
You released a breathy moan into his mouth and the male swallowed it greedily. He guided you onto your back, stripping you of the remaining clothes you had on before continuing his ministrations.
His lips found purchase on your neck and began to trail downward, his free hand stroking your side, eliciting the most delicious shudders he had ever felt.
“Eris… please.” You whispered, fisting his auburn hair in a hand and urging him downward. The male chuckled but did not fight you, and when his lips finally made contact with your aching core the only thing you could do was roll your head to the side and gasp into the silk of your pillow.
He hummed at the wetness he found there and began to suck and lap at it greedily. Each sweet little moan you emitted urged the fiery male further, and by the five-minute mark he was grasping your thighs so hard his knuckles were turning white and your legs were shaking.
You were grasping and pulling for purchase anywhere the sheets, your skin, his hair, anything to ground you to this moment as he inserted a finger and began to stretch you relentlessly.
“I- I cant…” Your words were like smoke in the wind, completely lost against the work your mate was putting in. The coil in your core was beginning to tighten deliciously and your breaths were labored and short. You could feel him smiling against your sex, coaxing that moment of bliss from you greedily.
“Give it to me Starfire, just one and I’ll let you sleep.”
And the sound of his voice, gruff from misuse, sent you over the edge with a scream. You were convulsing, thighs trapping his head between them, though he didn’t seem to care. He pumped his fingers into you slowly through your orgasm and shifted until he was hovering over you, watching your pretty little face scrunch and pant.
He kissed the bruise on your forehead, fading now from that tricky little gift of advanced healing. He drug his lips across your shut lids and pressed gentle kisses behind the shell of your ears. His hands had left your aching core and were rubbing soothing circles into your hips. Your own hands were tracing his spine, playing with the soft locks of hair at the nape of his neck, and drawing constellations in the freckles on his shoulders.
“I don’t wanna sleep Eris.” You whispered into the skin of his throat before pressing a hard kiss into the junction of his collar. He groaned lowly and settled in between your legs, pressing his length firmly against your core.
“What do you want then? Tell me and its yours.”
But you didn’t want to tell. You wanted to show. With deft hands you reached into the blankets and guided his lengthy member to your core, and with a heel you shoved his hips roughly until he was sliding into you with a groan. Caged between his arms you had no choice but to watch as his face contorted, and his eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of you around him for the first time in months.
“Wicked little minx you…” He shuttered, dragging a hand through your sweaty hair. Your only reply was a soft moan and a smile as he began to thrust slowly.
The sun was rising and it painted your room in a sweet light that allowed you to see him fully for the first time since the debacle at Rhysand’s home.
“Youre so pretty.” You whispered, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. And he stuttered. His hips stopped momentarily as he watched you below him, practically glowing in the soft morning light. There was a gleam of sweat on your skin that made you shine and your lips were parted ever so slightly, yet you had called him pretty?
“No no. I am lucky. Incredibly lucky.” He replied, and much to your pleasure he resumed his ministrations and leaned down to kiss you feverishly.
It was overwhelming how good it felt to be joined so intimately after so many months apart. So overwhelming in fact that you were approaching your second orgasm rather quickly. Eris knew this, felt your legs tighten around his waist and felt your heart rate pick up through the bond. He smirked slyly and slid a hand between your sweaty bodies to rub quick circles into your clit, a sharp contrast against his torturously slow strokes. You bucked against him with a mewl and he chuckled, nipping gently at your ear.
“I’ve missed your pretty little noises.” He muttered into your neck, sucking marks into the skin there. You searched for some witty response, but one roll of his hips and your eyes were in the back of your head and your jaw was slack.
His rhythm was becoming disjointed and his pants were growing into groans and growls so deep that his chest vibrated against your own.
He thrusted once more, hard and deep, and you reached your peaks together in a symphony of moans and pants and sweat slick skin.
Eris didn’t even bother to pull out, just rolled to his side and pulled your back into his chest so that he could spoon you and play with your hair. You released your breath and intertwined your fingers with his own.
“I love you.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his hand. His fingers gently squeezed your own before he wrapped his arms tightly around your midsection.
“I love you most, Starfire.”
And as you began to drift off into that blissful slumber once more your auburn-haired lover began to plot.
There was a score to settle with the High Lord of the Nightcourt, one the Vanserra son would not soon forget.
#annwritesacotar#eris x reader#eris vanserra#acotar fanfiction#acotar smut#acotar#sjmaas#sjm fanfic#eris x you#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#lucien x reader#acotar fanart#acomaf#helion x reader#helionacotar#helion acotar#night court#ACOTAR#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fic#smut#fluff#angst#annwrites#annwritesarchangel#autumn court
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Why have I actually not seen your blog before? Discovered it a couple days ago and your writing is amazing! I was wondering if you could do soft smut with Aedion, I have a love for blondes, and he never gets any fanfics! Thanks love, no pressure at all! You are amazing! 💙
Hi love! Thank you so much, you're so sweet 💜 Aedion is so underrated imo, I'm happy to write for him
Serenity
Aedion x Reader
Warnings: smut below the cut, minors dni
You leaned against the wall outside of the armory, watching Aedion train with his sword. He was shirtless, his tall muscular frame gleaming with sweat in the Terrasen sun as he struck the wooden training dummy. Absentmindedly biting your lip, you were only drawn from your trance when Aedion called out your name. You looked up to see him smirking at you, placing his sword back on the rack and grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat away.
He strode towards you across the vibrant spring grass, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you deeply. You moaned softly into the kiss, savoring the feeling of his toned body against yours. Pulling away, you lifted the basket that was in your hand. “I thought you could use a break from training. Care for a picnic?” Aedion smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he grabbed your hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart.”
He led you into the forest nearby, to a clearing within the trees next to a babbling brook. You laid out a blanket that you had brought, opening up the basket to take out the food when Aedion’s calloused fingers gently wrapped around yours. Lifting your hand to press his lips against it, he looked at you with a hunger in those gold and turquoise eyes as he murmured, “there’s something else I’d like to indulge in, first.”
Aedion moved the basket aside as he climbed on top of you, softly pushing you to lay down on the blanket. You reached up to brush his long hair away from his face, pausing to cup his cheek in your hand as you smiled up at him. Aedion propped himself up on one arm, the other massaging your waist before trailing slowly, teasingly, up your body. His hand made its way to cup your breast, teasing your nipple through the fabric as he leaned down to kiss along your neck. Switching over to toy with the other breast, Aedion dragged your earlobe between his teeth. “Beautiful,” he whispered against your skin before he sat up slightly, pulling your dress down to expose your chest to the warm Terrasen air.
The only sounds were the babbling brook and your soft moans as Aedion dipped to take your breast in his mouth, sliding his free hand up your thigh until he came in contact with the fabric of your underwear. He smirked against your chest as he felt how wet you were, already writhing underneath him, desperate for more friction. You ran your hands over Aedion’s strong torso, holding onto his bicep as he slipped one finger under the fabric, slowly circling your clit. “Please, my love, I need you now,” you whimpered as you twined your fingers in his golden hair, guiding him to look at you.
He smiled, leaning down to kiss you passionately as he pulled your underwear down your legs, baring you to him. You gasped at the exposed feeling, and Aedion took that opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moaned softly, spurred on by his actions as you moved to untie his pants, shuffling them down his legs with a renewed fervor.
Hooking your legs around his backside, you guided him towards your entrance. Aedion slowly pushed in, your back arching against the blanket as he groaned at the feeling. He moved at a slow, strong pace as you wrapped your arms around his neck, looking deep into those beautiful eyes as he made love to you.
You urged Aedion to pick up the pace, him complying as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder as he quickened his movements. Bringing one hand down to your clit, he rubbed circles that had you writhing beneath him once more as you approached your orgasm. You came moaning his name, Aedion following closely behind you. He rested his forehead against yours as you smiled at each other, catching your breath before he kissed your forehead and sat up, grabbing the basket from where he’d moved it before.
Aedion unloaded the food, laying everything out as you readjusted your dress, and the two of you enjoyed your meal, content spending your afternoon in the peaceful woods of Terrasen with the one you love.
#throne of glass#throne of glass fic#throne of glass x reader#throne of glass fanfic#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass x you#aedion ashryver#aedion x you#aedion x reader#throne of glass smut#tog#tog fanfic#tog x reader#tog series#sjm#sjm fanfic#aedion ashryver x reader#aedion ashryver x you#kingdom of ash#throne of glass imagine#tog imagine#sjm books#sjmaas#smut#aedion smut#tog smut#aedion x reader smut#aedion x you smut#aedion x f!reader#tog x f!reader
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The Angry Valkyrie
Gwyn is mad at Azriel. What did he do and how will he make up for it?
A Morning at the Berdara Household
Follow Gwyn, Azriel and their twins as they get ready for the day.
At Her Fingertips
Some dirty texts exchanged at the dinner table followed by smut, smut and more smut. - [smut]
Her Jealous Side
Ficlet where Azriel pushes Gwyn to admit that she is jealous.
Tell Me
Gwyn tells Azriel exactly what she wants him to do. - [smut]
Love is a losing game
What others thought was seven minutes in heaven for Azriel and Gwyn turned out to be seven minutes of confrontation about their breakup.
She is gone...
House of Wind gang/Gwynriel drabble - Cassian comes home to a sad Shadowsinger.
Cat and the Doggy
Fluffy ficlet of Gwyn and her daughter.
His Angel of Light
Ficlet of Gwyn and Azriel stargazing.
Good Girl
Gwyn experiences the pleasures of being blindfolded and bound by the Shadowsinger. [smut]
First Day
Gwyn and Azriel watch their twins take a new step in their lives.
✨Gwynriel Weeks 2023✨
Everything I posted for Gwynriel Weeks 2023. Some fics, a moodboard, and more Gwynriel fun stuff!
✨Gwynriel Weeks 2024✨
Everything I posted for Gwynriel Weeks 2024. Fanfiction, moodboards, and more Gwynriel content!
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#gwynriel fanfiction#fluff and smut#domestic life#Gwynriel babies#angst#Some painful stuff in there too#sjmaas#sjm fanfic
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Hi Saph! I was wondering if I could request a fic about a newly mated Lucien? I looked through your masterlist and I don't think there's one for him yet :) Thank you!
Took a hot second but finally did it! It's a spicy one but what to expect from a silver-tongued fox. Happy reading 😘
He wakes up engulfed in a warmth not even the radiant heat of a bonfire on a cold night could mimic. Lucien returns to the world of the waking, pleasant dreams waning away as they do so fleetingly. He tries to catch onto them, to keep them with him only to find them as reality. These dreams are not figments of imagination. He does not grow cold the moment the realisation hits and instead he is engulfed fully just like when he used to close his eyes. Nothing can fight the smile on his face and he certainly does not want to because when he opens his eyes, his gaze falls on the most wonderful view.
Curled up next to him lays the most wonderful creature he has ever encountered. Your eyes are still closed. Your features are peaceful. You have not a burden in the world right now. Lucien wants to see you like this in the waking world. If he has to move mountains to do so, his heart burns to do it. All to see you smile, to see you content. You stir lightly, shoulders tensing and relaxing as you let out a puff of air. Then your eyes open. Your beautiful eyes. He could never grow tired of them. If anything they might hold him captive like some trap and leave him falling through the world but all the same are you the grounding force that keeps him tethered.
“Hey.” Your voice still laced with sleep sparks in his chest.
“Hey.” He doesn’t know what else to say. For a fae of many words he is at a loss; completely and utterly captivated.
“It’s rude to stare.” You mutter raising yourself onto an elbow and looming at his side as you study his features. You even deign to grace him with your gentle touch, brushing your fingers along his collarbone back and forth. Sparks combust below the surface of his skin. Goosebumps form, awaiting the presence for more.
“Yet it is perfectly acceptable to admire the captivating.” Lucien retorts. Amusement graces your features as your fingers dance up the column of his neck, tracing the fading marks you’d left there the eve before. Tenderness still present is but an obvious reminder and he does not doubt should he take a glance in the mirror his neck and shoulders would be covered in such bruised markings. Your lips had explored his skin plenty and when he had made such lovely sounds when you paid careful attention, who were you to deny him these pleasures? It’s not like you didn’t have a great time. If anything he’s repaid you manifold. You made it clear you would seek to balance the scales.
“As quick-witted as always, my dearest Lucien.” You muse as your fingers brush aside some stray strands of copper. The praise and approval spreads warmth throughout his veins, not because of your words but the feelings that traverse that invisible string between you two. You press your lips to his. Your kiss is but a ghost and leaves him all too soon. You laugh at his disappointment even though he can very clearly feel your desire to deepen that kiss, to return to his lips, the rest of his body while at it and have yet another of those blissful moments you lose yourselves in.
“Your self-restraint is infuriating, my love.” Lucien breathes when your fingers brush through his hair and he sits up enough to finally be face to face with you. Inches apart seems too much still.
“I fear if I do not show self-restraint we might never leave this room again.” You chuckle when you feel his touch wander along the curve of your waist sending goosebumps across your skin even beneath the thin sheet that barely covers you.
“You say that as if it is a bad thing.” The fact he can feel your consideration, weighing his words leaves him wanton and such he acts. Lucien takes you by the hips and shifts you onto his lap, your legs on either side of his as your arms come to rest around his shoulders. He makes a point of tracing shapes on your now exposed flesh, dipping just a little closer to where you want him to touch you. Despite your presented attitude he can feel your arousal through body and bond. What a gift the mother bestowed him.
“While I intend to spend the rest of my life with you, I intend to extend that to outside the confines of this bedroom too. I would love a stroll down the river. A swim even perhaps.” He pretends to entertain the thought in disagreement but understands. While the thought to stay here forever is certainly entertaining, venturing beyond that threshold would not be the end of the world and going places with you, spending more time in your company will please him either way. The wicked look you give him however is mildly concerning.
“And perhaps…” You lean in, your lips trailing along his neck pressing light kisses to his skin like a fuse lit. “We can take however long we need to explore beyond the bedroom door.” Your teeth graze his neck somewhere between pain and pleasure.
“If it is up to me I will fuck you in every corner in this house before we make it outside.” Lucien moans and the sound only eggs you on to continue your ministrations until you are satisfied with his body’s response to you and let a hand wander down the planes of his chest, down his abdomen, grazing ever so lightly where you need him most.
“Why stop there? Plenty of places outside too.” With that you finally stroke him releasing a mewling sound from him and that satisfied grin on your face, he wants to wipe it off so badly. Lucien decides he will. In but one swift motion he has flipped the two of you. He takes your hand away from him, clasping it and bringing it to rest besides your head. His lips dart for that spot that he knows has you melt instantly. Just as predicted you do. Your little gasps are all the encouragement he needs. Nevermind the way you rock your hips into his touch when he lets his fingers slide down between your legs.
Lucien kisses down your chest, sucking and biting and licking, paying careful attention to all the things that make you tick. Your gasps and moans, the gentle cry of his name, the way when he finally lets go of your arm, your fingers lace into his hair and hold on, are encouragement enough for him to keep going. Then his lips trail down, replacing his fingers previously stroking and brushing. Your sounds of pleasure only increase until he has you panting, until you can’t take it anymore and pull his hair. He goes for another few seconds until he pulls away. You’re out of breath and given your gaze, pupils wide, he waits for your next move. You take a few deep breaths. Your gaze turns wicked and your hold on his hair loosens.
“Keep going.” You needn’t say more for him to dive back between your legs and the amount of time it takes you to cry his name sparks not just some male pride but simple satisfaction and pleasure of his own. He could be lost within you for days, weeks, months, years. This is only the beginning.
#lucien vanserra x reader#lucien x reader#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar#acotar lucien#sjm fanfic#sjmaas#sjm fic#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar
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JUMP LITTLE BUNNY
ok so, this is are 2 or 3 or 4 requests in one (all by @amara-moonlight ) and i like this and it also help me with my writing slump.
WARNINGS;; ddlg relationship, custome use, nsfw
𐙚 daddy! rowan who wakes her up with breakfast on bed. toast, coffee, juice, jam with butter, croissants, everything for his baby girl.
𐙚 daddy! rowan hires people to dress her, do her make up, everything so she looks pretty for the day, even her nails, hair, eyelashes. and everytime they are done with her he needs to kiss her soft lips lightly so the makeup doesn't ruin.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who sometimes, wants to do her makeup and skin care routine, and has learned from her how to do it.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who spends all day with her buying her everything she looks at, even if she tells him that she doesn’t need it, rowan is buying it.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who waits for her outside the victorian secret’s shop because she has told him to. meanwhile, she is looking for more outfits for the night, and she is changing the one she is wearing for the white one she has bought. a gift for him.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who spends the entire evening with a hand on her small back, her long, silk hair tickling her hand, a bow decorating the half up. and during lunch, he has his hand on her leg, sometimes moving his hand up to touch her underwear lightly.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who has bought more bunny costumes for her to wear for the night and also some new panties with a vibrator in it so he can control it with his phone
𐙚 daddy! rowan can't stop kissing her. on the waiting line, while she is looking for clothes or skin care stuff…
𐙚 daddy! rowan who the first thing he does when they are home is give her a bag with the new bunny custom in it.
𐙚 babygirl! reader who hides the new lingerie and changes to the bunny custom because she loves to please him, and otherwise.
𐙚 babygirl! reader who walks downstairs to where rowan is waiting on the sofa at the living room, a glass of alcohol on one hand and the other at the back of the sofa manspreading.
𐙚 babygirl! reader who gives him a little dance because she is a little bit shy, the lingerie nearly covering her and the bunny and tail makes her look like a little animal.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who drinks all his alcohol in one shot and with a movement of his fingers, tells her to approach him until she is between his legs.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who tells reader to be on her knees and suck him like the good girl she is.
𐙚 babygirl! reader who sucks him off and swallow all while his hand is at the back of her head.
𐙚 babygirl! reader who sits on his lap, his cock buried deep inside her, hitting her g spot.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who tells reader “jump little bunny”
𐙚 babygirl! reader who rides his dick like she's cock drunk
𐙚 daddy! rowan who lays her on the couch the moment she has cum and starts eating her, trying to make her cum again, this time with his tongue
𐙚 daddy! rowan who fucks her again while his baby is crying and begging him to cum again and to fill her
𐙚 daddy! rowan who cums inside
𐙚 daddy! rowan who is the best after sex. he takes her to the bathroom, hot water cleaning her and relaxing her muscles, all of this while he gives her little kisses and tells her how good she is.
𐙚 daddy! rowan who hugs his baby girl because it's the only way she can sleep
all rights reserved to ©rowaelinsdaughter. no tranlations allowed. no copy theme. don not copy my work.
🏷️;; @danikamariewrites @throneofsapphics @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @callmeblaire
#sarah j maas#sjm books#fanfic#throne of glass#throne of glass imagine#throne of glass fanfiction#rowan whitethorn#rowan x reader#rowan fanfic#rowan x you#rowan fic#rowan smutt#tog smut#tog fic#tog#sjm fanfic#sjm multiverse#sjm universe#sjmaas#sjm#maasverse#throne of glass smut#throne of glass fic
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“I don’t want to fight,” it was barely more than a whisper, but the plea in Nesta’s voice was evident. She reached up to lace her fingers around the back of Cassian’s neck. They both closed their eyes, letting their foreheads rest against each other. For a long moment, they breathed together.
Then Cassian said, more calmly now, “I don’t know that I would have made the same decision.”
Nesta opened her eyes, but didn’t speak. Cassian just shook his head, an incredulous look on his face. “You are my mate,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But Rhys is . . . .” He paused, searching for the words. “I’m sworn to protect this court. This territory. What you did . . . . jeopardized all of that. Rhys has every right to be angry.”
“I’m not asking anyone not to be angry.”
“Then what are you asking for? What is it that you’re asking of me?” His eyes were sad as he cupped her face in his hands.
“Understanding.”
“I do understand. I told you—I would want someone to help—”
“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t mean for my decision to give Bryce the Mask. I don’t regret it. And I would do it again.” His eyes flashed, and he dropped his hands.
“Then what do you mean.”
“I want you to respect my ability to make my own decisions,” she snapped, unable to keep the bite from her voice as her anger flared again. “I want you stop treating me like a child who went against some kind of rule—”
“Then don’t act like one,” he growled.
Nesta’s nostrils flared.
Breathe. Breathe.
“I will tell you the same thing I told Rhysand. The Trove answers to me. I command it.”
“And we all answer to Rhys,” he barked back. “That’s what you don’t understand. You don’t understand that you cannot make decisions like this without consulting him, without consulting Feyre—”
“Rhysand and Feyre have both made plenty of decisions without consulting the rest of you,” she said icily. She saw the hurt flash in Cassian’s eyes. An old wound. Perhaps more than one. But she went on, “they have both hatched dangerous, impulsive plans and not informed anyone. And yet you don’t look at them the way you’re looking at me now.”
“That is different, and you know it. Rhysand is my High Lord. He is a ruler—”
“And I am your mate!” she was practically screaming now. Cassian’s face was inches from hers; the fury rippling off of him like steam from the bath.
“Being my mate does not mean that you can do whatever the fuck you want in this court—to this court, and that I will blindly agree with you.”
“Again, I don’t care about your agreement. All I want is for you not to look at me with disgust. To give me the same grace that you give to Rhysand, to Feyre, to everyone else in this gods-damned court except, apparently, to me. I want you to tell me that you don’t agree with me, and you still love me despite it. To think about what it would be like if you were given the choice between blind loyalty to your court and something you loved even more—”
“There is nothing I love more than this court,” he roared.
Utter silence fell. Cassian’s eyes widened, the words he’s spoken settling in the space between their bodies.
Nesta took a step back, staring at Cassian. Trying to make sense of what he’d just said.
Say you didn’t mean it, she silently begged him. Say that you were angry.
Cassian’s throat worked like he might say something.
Only he didn’t.
Nesta stared, disbelief creeping like hoarfrost along her skin. Her chest hurt as realization sunk in.
He hadn’t spoken only out of anger. He really felt that way.
And his eyes—still wide and pleading—betrayed the truth.
Nesta felt her heart break.
My interpretation of the events that occurred between Nesta and Cassian after the argument with Rhys, during the Ember & Randall bonus chapter. Read the entire chapter on AO3!
#acotar#fanfic#acofas#acomaf#sjm fanfic#fanfiction#feysand fanfiction#sjm universe#feysand#cassian fanfic#nesta and feyre#nesta supremacy#nesta acosf#nesta archeron#nesta x cassian#nesta acotar#pro nesta#nesta deserves better#cassian my beloved#cassian acosf#cassian#angst with a happy ending#angst
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Ignore me. Just finally organizing the 23423657 WIP I have...
When Even Moonlight Burns
Status: WIP
Word Count:
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Ship: Azriel X Eris
Setting: Modern AU
Summary: Eris has lived a long life. Miserable, exciting, debauched, and everything else in between. He loves what he is, and revels in the power of it, the seduction. So, how he found himself living a quiet existence at the behest of a creditor, he can't fully comprehend. Matters only become more complicated when the star of the underground fight ring he collects from becomes a siren call he can't seem to resist.
The path down to Hel is paved in cigarette butts and sticky rice...
He didn’t mind what he was, it was just that he was honest about it. Monster, some would call him if they knew, had called him, in the past. Eris didn’t think that way though, he was an animal, a predator, but not mindless.
Azris Tag List: @iftheshoef1tz @born-to-riot @pathfinderofnight @fell-in-luvs @fieldofdaisiies @aktrain @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @secret-third-thing @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee
#azris supremacy#azriel x eris#azris fanfiction#eris vanserra#azriel shadowsinger#azris#fanfic#angst#vampire#vampirism#sjm fanfic#acotar au#acotar fanfiction#a court of thorns and roses#azriel#acotar#acotar fandom#acotar series#azriel fanfiction#azriel acotar#acotar fanfic#eris acotar#mignon#when even moonlight burns
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Better or Worse {8}
Nessian. Angst. Modern au.
@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab
Better or Worse Masterlist
Warnings: language.
Every session with Gwyn is easier.
I’m still tense as hell when we arrive, but as Cassian and I leave our most recent appointment with her, I actually feel like we might actually be getting back on the right track.
His hand is in mine, which has been a much more common occurrence in the past few days than it had in the last year.
Gwyn knows what she’s talking about, that’s for sure. As a relationship therapist, I would really hope she’s good at what she does, but I didn’t realize just how much I missed Cassian’s touch, the feel of his rough hands on my skin.
Nothing past PG has happened, but every time he tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear or takes my hand in his, my stomach does a little flip and I feel like a teenager with a crush.
Except this isn’t just a silly crush.
He’s the love of my life. I knew it, even in my darkest hour, even when we rarely spoke, even when it felt like we did not exist within the same space. I have never doubted that Cassian is the one and only man I am meant to be with, which is somehow even more terrifying than having a simple teenage crush. I wasn’t even this scared when we were engaged, when we were about to be married. Then, I felt like I had nothing to lose, there was no question about it, about us. Now, I feel like I have everything to lose. Even though things are getting better, we aren’t back to being us, and even though I feel like we’ll get there, that we’re on the right track, the fact that we’re not still leaves me scared shitless.
“You’re quiet,” Cassian says, as he pulls us out of the parking lot. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” I say, and it’s an honest response, even though he looks unsure. “Just reflecting.”
He nods, looking both ways before pulling out onto the main street. “I get that.” There’s a beat of silence, then he says, “I think we should go out tonight.”
I look at him, brow raised, instantly thinking about the last time we tried to go out a few weeks ago. “Really?”
He shrugs, fingers dancing on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I’d kind of like to erase the last date we had. Thought we should try again.” Another beat of silence passes. “But, if you’re not ready, that’s fine—”
“I think that sounds nice,” I interrupt, afraid I was giving off the wrong vibes. I’m more surprised that he wanted to try date night again after I messed the last one up so badly, but he gives me a smile that I know is genuine, and slightly full of mischief, which reminds me of the old him, the one that didn’t want to leave me.
I miss him.
And even though I see glimpses of that old Cassian lately, I know he’s still holding back.
“Good,” he says, and we spend the rest of the way home in a comfortable silence.
We agreed we’d leave at six-thirty, which allows me two hours to respond to some emails before I have to start getting ready. While I’m in my office, Cassian’s downstairs going over a few new menu items for the restaurant. Half of my inbox is nasty emails from Eris, which tries to dampen my mood but I won’t let it. If I got pissed and upset everytime Eris told me something I don’t want to hear, I’d never feel a single ounce of joy. I send him one email as a response to all, letting him know that everything is on track and I’ll send him an update at the end of the day tomorrow.
It’s just after five-thirty when a soft knock comes to the office door and Cassian peeks in. He’s shirtless, yet again, and I’m starting to think that he’s coming around shirtless more and more just to watch me ogle, which I do, with no shame. Especially when he’s sweating, looking like he’s just conquered a thousand pushups. “Red or blue?”
I lift a brow. “What?”
He smiles. “Red or blue?”
I snort. “Blue?”
“Seafood or steak?”
I cock my head to the side. “Is this how you're planning our night? Twenty questions?”
His grin widens. My eyes fall to his chest, his abs, back up to his lips, then his eyes as he asks, “Seafood or steak?”
I think about it for a second. “Steak.”
“Inside or outside?”
Thinking about the warm, clear day we’ve had, I say, “Outside.”
“I’m getting in the shower.” With a wink, he’s gone.
I decide I should probably start getting ready too and close my laptop, deciding to ignore all work related bullshit for the rest of the night. Tonight is about me and Cassian, and everything else officially doesn’t exist.
When I enter our bedroom, the bathroom door is cracked and I can see the inside getting steamy from the shower. Gray pants and a navy blue button down are sitting on the bed.
I’m glad I went with blue.
I grab a brush from my nightstand before sitting at my vanity and setting out what makeup I’m going to use. I need to wash my face first, and glance towards the bathroom door that’s slightly ajar. Surely if he left it open, he doesn’t mind if I go in.
Right?
After debating it for far too long, I walk to the bathroom door and softly knock, nudging it open an inch or two more as I do so.
“Yeah?”
“I need to wash my face,” I say, peeking my head in.
The shower door opens just a bit and out pops his arm, my bottle of face wash in his hand.
I take the bottle, doing my best not to look at the expanse of toned skin and dark ink on display, but failing miserably.
Gods, he’s mouthwatering.
Heading straight for the sink, I turn it on and wet my face. As I squeeze a good amount of the product onto my fingers and form a lather, I clear my throat. “So is our game of twenty questions over or will there be more?”
Cassian chuckles and the sound makes my nipples tighten. A husky laugh shouldn’t undo me so easily, but gods, it’s been so long. “There are a few more,” he says, as I scrub. “But I was going to wait until we were on the way to ask.”
After rinsing my face and drying it off with a hand towel, I turn to lean against the bathroom counter. “And if I have one for you?”
The water shuts off and the bathroom becomes unnervingly quiet for a moment as Cassian towels off. The shower door opens and he’s once again wearing nothing but that towel slung low on his hips. The well defined muscles leading down into the towel may as well be an arrow pointing at his cock because it’s all I can focus on.
“Nesta?”
Right, I said I was going to ask him a question.
Clearing my throat, I ask, “Legs or breasts?”
The only sound is the shower head slowly dripping water onto the tile floor. Cassian blinks, likely making sure he heard me right. “What?”
“Legs or breasts,” I repeat, heading for my closet.
“Are we going to KFC on the way home?” He asks, shaking his head.
I can’t help my own laugh as I look at him. “Just pick one, you ass.”
“Breasts.” His eyes are focused on my face, trying his hardest not to let his gaze dip to the aforementioned part of my body.
“Okay,” I smirk, stepping into my closet.
I can still feel him watching me as I disappear into my chaos of clothing, searching for a dress that shows off my best assets. A few come to mind, but there’s one in particular that I’m hoping to dig out for tonight’s occasion. It takes me a minute to find it, and when I take it out of the closet, my face now clean, Cassian’s still standing there in the bathroom, that fucking towel still barely hiding all that’s beneath.
I wonder what he would do if I kissed him. Without warning, if I just grabbed his face and kissed him, I wonder how he would react. It’s ridiculous, being nervous to kiss your own husband, but I am. His eyes dart to the dress that’s hanging on the hanger in my hand. His eyes darken. He knows exactly what dress this is.
“Give me half an hour, and I’ll be ready,” I say, as I go by him, into the bedroom. When I look over my shoulder, his eyes are on my ass.
They snap up to mine and he clears his throat. I try to ignore the fact that I can see something happening beneath that towel of his, even though it causes a longing throughout my body that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. “Sounds good. Yeah, me too.”
I leave him in the bathroom and sit at my vanity, getting to work on my appearance. Cassian’s voice comes from the bathroom. “Twenty questions — clean shave or no?”
I laugh quietly to myself. I like this little game we’re playing. As I dab on my foundation, I say, “Keep the scruff.”
He comes out a few minutes later, his long, wavy hair brushed and dried and loose above his shoulders. He notices me looking and smiles as he takes his clothes off the bed and goes back to the bathroom. I suddenly realize how much I wanted him to drop that towel, right here, right now.
I focus on my eyeshadow.
Once I’m done with my makeup, I brush through my hair and add a few more curls since some had fallen loose before spraying it.
I’m halfway into my dress when the bathroom door opens again, and Cassian is dressed to perfection. He smells phenomenal, like my favorite cologne. When he sees me, he stops.
“Perfect timing,” I say, although I find it hard to find my voice. “Help me zip?”
I turn around and move my hair out of the way. For a moment, he doesn’t come, but then he’s moving toward me, silently.
He finds the zipper that’s just above my waist, and my breath catches as his fingertips brush the bare skin of my lower back. He takes his time, and every time his fingers make contact with my skin, an ache that’s newly been awakened throbs between my thighs.
I never thought zipping up my dress would be erotic. I was wrong.
“Ready?” He asks, hands still lingering on my waist.
Ready to throw you down on the bed and say to hell with our date.
I smile at him in the mirror and shake my head. “Almost.”
He steps back, letting me cross the room to my jewelry box. I retrieve a necklace he gave me for our anniversary a few years back. I don’t wear it often, despite loving it, because of the length of the chain. The diamond pendant fell right between breast and as I fluff my hair out around me, I turn and face my husband.
“Now I’m ready,” I say and I don’t know why I sound so breathless.
Okay, I do. If Cassian’s gaze could set something on fire, my dress would be ashes.
Silently, he holds out his hand. I take it, loving the feel of his rough callouses against my skin. I don’t let myself think about how those hands feel on other parts of my body, despite it having been months since I felt them.
Once downstairs, he swipes his keys and wallet, and then we’re headed to the restaurant.
He takes me to one of the best steakhouses in Velaris and we sit on the roof, where string lights and live music surrounds our candlelit table. The conversation is easy, nothing is forced, and it’s like a breath of fresh air.
We talk about our most memorable dates, once Cassian mentioned that one time we skipped a group date because we saw a new taco stand on the way and ate there instead, just the two of us. We sat on the steps of the art museum, dressed in some of our finest, eating a heap of messy tacos. That had been about eight years ago, and I hadn’t realized just how much time has passed between the two of us.
Nearly ten years of marriage.
A decade since we swore our lives to one another.
And I almost let it all go. Looking at my husband across the table, I don’t know how I could have ever been so foolish, so selfish.
He sees me watching him and smiles, setting his fork down, his plate now cleared. I take a sip of my wine. He refills it once it’s almost empty, until the bottle that the waiter left us is almost gone.
After calling for the check, Cassian looks up at me. “Should we head home or walk around for a bit?”
I set down my empty wine glass. “Is this a part of twenty questions?”
He chuckles. “I haven’t exceeded twenty questions yet?”
I shake my head.
“Then yes,” he says, quietly, the toe of his boot nudging the toe of my stiletto.
“A little walk sounds nice,” I say, afraid that when we get back home we’ll fall back into our polite small talk. Small talk isn’t bad, but this easy conversation we’ve had between us today… I like it.
We walk along the Sidra, the warm, clear day making way for a beautiful night, and I listen as Cassian regales me with tales of a new chef at the restaurant. She’s young and has never had an official kitchen job before, only graduating from culinary school the year before. I glance over at him, with lips pursed. He usually isn’t willing to put his restaurant’s reputation on the line like that. His chefs and sous chefs all have long lists of accomplishments and recognition, upholding the notoriety he’s earned.
We walk on, pausing at an ice cream stand to get to two cones.
“What?”
I look over at him and he’s already watching me as we walk.
I repeat his question. “What?”
He reached out and skims a thumb over my brow. “You’re thinking too hard about something.”
I push him away, rolling my eyes, but he catches my hand and we’re heading back towards the car.
“What’s on your mind, Nes?” He pushes, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of my hand.
For a brief second, I consider lying to him. I could tell him it’s nothing, tell him there really isn’t anything on my mind. But we haven’t gone through four weeks of marriage counseling for nothing.
“I just… This new girl, Emerie,” I start, hoping he doesn’t see my question as a sign of jealousy. “What exactly made you bring her on? She’s pretty green, as far as your assistant chefs go.”
I don’t think there’s any nefarious reasoning behind his hiring her. I just don’t understand his sudden change in pace.
He’s quiet a minute, which only makes my nerves ratchet higher. When he finally speaks, his words are low, almost too soft to hear over the sound of the city around us. “She’s from the same small town as I am. Similar upbringing, no dad, single mom that worked way too much.”
My heart fractured a bit inside my chest.
I stop, tugging on his hand to make him stop, too. I look at him. Really look at him. My husband is a damn good man. I’ve always known it, and I know that he’s proud of his past, although a lot of it is tragic. He loved his mother, before she passed, considering she had raised him on her own and fought tooth and nail for everything they had. It would make sense he would be sympathetic for someone of a very similar life.
When it’s clear I’m not saying anything, because I truly cannot find the words, his brows furrow. Before he can ask me what’s wrong, I lean up on my toes and press my lips to his cheek. He inhales, as if he’s shocked, and I let the kiss linger against his warm, stubbled cheek. Our hands remain clasped together and when I lean back, his eyes are searching mine.
“You’re a good man,” I say, my voice hoarse. “And a good boss.”
He swallows, but he nods as he brushes his thumb over the back of my hand. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
I want to yank his mouth down to mine, but this moment is cherished and I don’t want to overstep, don’t want to ruin what we’ve built here. I give him a smile and we resume our walk.
I make a note to stop by the restaurant this week and meet Emerie as we find our way back to the truck. Cassian helps me inside the cab and his hand lingers on mine, even after I’ve sat, before he closes the door and finds his way behind the wheel.
We listen to music on the way home and he makes me laugh when he sings along to some nineties R&B song that definitely should’ve been left in the nineties. He catches me watching him on more than one occasion, and his smile softens every time he does.
When we’ve made it home and witnessed Greg sprawled out next to the fruit bowl on the island, Cassian says, “I had a really good time tonight.”
“Yeah,” I say, setting my clutch on the counter. “It was a good night.”
He nods, and for a moment we just stand in the silence, staring at one another. He’s the one to break it.
“I have to be at the restaurant early tomorrow,” he says, but he’s stepped closer to me. “I should get ready for bed.”
“Right.” I clear my throat, not sure what to say, as I edge around the island, closer to him. “I have to go in early, too.”
Meetings with my manager and the publishing company start tomorrow. I have no idea where the future of my books are with this company, but they have to understand that I can’t keep putting out the same volume of content out. Not if I have any hope of salvaging my marriage.
He sets his keys in the center of the island, which puts him right in front of me. Staring up at him, I watch as his eyes dip down to my lips and his Adam’s apple bobs. “Can I…kiss you?”
I nod, not trusting my voice, holding my breath. He leans in and my eyes fall closed.
After a second, his lips press against mine and I’m lost. It’s been so long since he’s kissed me. I’d forgotten how soft his lips were, how heady his cologne made me feel, the feel of his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me close.
I melt into him, losing myself in the feel of his kiss, clinging to his shirt with both hands.
It’s over as quickly as it began.
When he pulls back, his hazel eyes are bright and he’s breathing heavily. I want to pull his face back to mine, want to grab him and drag him upstairs with me.
But Gwyn told us to hold off on sex.
Reaching up, I caress his stubbled cheek. “We should get to bed.”
He nods and swallows, not making a move to let me go any more than I’m making a move to let him go. I can tell his self control is on a short leash, just as mine is. So I step back and make my way upstairs.
He’s just behind me.
When we’ve reached our bedroom, Cassian quickly brushes his teeth before getting a pair of sweatpants. I’m watching him on the bed the entire time, suddenly not trusting myself to be too close to him. Before he leaves to go downstairs, he kisses my forehead, quickly. “Night, Nes.”
“Goodnight,” I say, but barely anything is audible as the word leaves my mouth. He leaves, and I feel empty once I’m alone.
After stripping out of my dress and pulling on an old t-shirt, I wash my face and brush my teeth, and bury myself beneath the blankets of our bed. I miss Cassian sleeping next to me. Tonight, more than ever, the bed feels lonely.
My heart is racing and I’m not tired in the slightest, despite the fact that I know I need to go to bed. I need to be well rested to deal with Eris’ shit in the morning.
But I can’t stop thinking about my husband, sleeping on the couch downstairs. I wonder if he wants to come up here, wants to climb into bed with me, wants to hold me until the sun comes up tomorrow morning.
I want his body pressed up against me.
I want to feel his skin on mine.
Fuck, the throbbing between my thighs is unbearable. I don’t want to touch myself, I want to run downstairs and have him touch me, taste me, fuck me until I can’t think straight. I’m not thinking straight now, I’m too horny, too needy.
It’s been too damn long.
But Gwyn is right. Nothing should be rushed. We need to wait until we’re good again, until we’re back to being Nesta and Cassian.
That doesn’t mean that he can’t sleep in his own bed, though.
Sex may be off the table, at least for now, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t share the same bed.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed before I can think better of it. The house is quiet as I make my way to the door and push it open. Everything’s dark, and I try to be as quiet as possible as I make my way down the hall. At the top of the stairs, I stop, making out Cassian’s massive figure on the couch. There’s no way he’s comfortable. Half of him is nearly hanging off of it.
But he’s asleep.
At least, I think he’s asleep. The living room is dark, silent. He’s not moving. I think about walking down the stairs anyway, to brush his hair off his face and ask if he wants to join me, but I can’t seem to convince my feet to move. If he’s already asleep, he’s apparently not having the same internal crisis that I am.
Silently, I turn around and go back to bed, careful not to make any noise, careful not to wake him.
When I’m back beneath the blankets, I slip my hand beneath my panties and rub one out until that throbbing ache between my thighs is no more.
#better or worse#nessian#nessian bow#snelbz x theladyofdeath collab#snacmc collabs#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf#sjm fanfic
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500 words or less prompt: Elide walks in on Lorcan taking a bubble bath. There are candles.
A/N: There's something about fluff in a bathtub that just...gets to me. I hope you enjoy!
It was dark when Elide got home.
She had promised to be home hours ago but had to stay late at the bar. Her replacement had been running behind, their car battery dying, which led to Elide's early night off becoming just the same as every other night.
She came into the kitchen through the garage, seeing a cleaned plate on the counter. After looking in the fridge, she saw that Lorcan had made her a plate and set it in there after it was clear she wasn't coming home any time soon.
"Lor?"
He didn't answer.
The house was dark and silent, but his truck was in the garage so she knew he was home. After slipping off her shoes and hanging her keys on the hook, Elide made her way through the house. A candle was burning in the living room, and the t.v. was on but paused, halfway through a movie that Lorcan had apparently been watching.
"Lor?" she called again, in a sing-song voice. There was still no response as she began making her way upstairs. The house was old, each step creaking as she walked up the stairs. They'd gotten it cheap, as a fixer upper, and it was now the epitome of comfy and cozy.
As she made her way down the hallway, the softest of relaxing music filled the space.
Suddenly, Elide knew exactly where she would find him.
Through the master bedroom, Elide gently pushed open the door to the master bathroom and chuckled at the sight of Lorcan. His massive frame was submerged beneath a heap of bubbles in the tub. It smelled like lavender and vanilla; candles were strewn all around the bathroom. Soft, Celtic music played. Lorcan's eyes were shut.
Seeming to sense her presence, he said, "It's been a long day."
"People piss you off?"
"People always piss me off."
"Do I need to kick someone's ass?" Elide offered, still keeping her voice quiet.
Lorcan chuckled as he opened his eyes and looked at his wife. "I'll never say no to that. You're late."
She frowned. "I know. My replacement ran late. I saw my dinner in the fridge. Thank you."
He nodded, his eyes soft. He was clearly exhausted. "If you can wait to eat..." He gestured for her to join him.
Elide suppressed her grin. Lorcan was not a small man, but in contrast, Elide was a small woman. Even if he took up eighty percent of the tub, Elide only took up the other twenty.
"I don't know," she teased. "I'm pretty hungry."
Lorcan snorted as his eyes closed, once more. "I promise it'll be worth it."
Elide couldn't deny that. She stripped off her clothes and meandered into the tub, sitting idly on Lorcan's lap. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his chin on top of her head as the music played around them.
There was nothing sexual about it, only comfort. He rubbed her back gently, his fingers dancing across her skin smoothly, and just as Elide closed her eyes and began to drift into a state of utter calmness, Lorcan chuckled.
She opened her eyes and glanced up at him. "What?"
"I just imagined you kicking the ass of the sixty-year-old woman that made me want to quit my job today," he said, quietly. "It was satisfying."
Elide laughed quietly as she snuggled up against him, breathing him in. "Your twisted mind would find joy in that."
"If my mind is twisted, yours is just as bad."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Elide said, fingers trailing down his chest. "I'm nothing but pure and innocent."
Lorcan took her fingers and made them still before bringing them to his mouth and kissing each fingertip softly, teasingly. His tone set her on fire when he said, "You are not pure or innocent."
Elide grinned, refusing to correct him, because they both knew it was true. Their hands wandered one another until simple touches became unbearable. They made love to one another until the water ran cold, and it was nearly midnight before Elide got around to her dinner.
But she didn't mind.
#elide#lorcan#elorcan#tog#throne of glass fanfiction#elide x lorcan#lorcan x elide#modern au#fluff#oneshot#drabble#dabble#500 words or less#sjm fanfic#sjm fanfiction#throne of glass#fanfiction#fanfic#tara answers prompts
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Do It All (Eris x Reader)
A/N: A little Eris fluff blurb to break up the angst I have been posting <3
Summary: Honesty is always key.
W/C: 895
“You're staring at me.” Eris purred from his spot before the hearth.
“And?” You questioned with a smile, admiring the male as he stretched lazily before the flames, his eyes closed and lips turned up lazily.
“If I were smart I would have half a mind to say you're obsessed with me.” He jested, not once opening those amber eyes. You snorted and leaned back in the chaise lounge, picking at your nails.
“If you were smart you would have half a mind to keep those comments to yourself fire boy.”
He raised himself on his elbows then, a brow raised and his head cocked. The silky tendrils of his hair fell forward over his eyes and he chuckled lowly in his throat, “Fire boy?”
You nodded triumphantly and relaxed your head against the back of your seat, reveling in the warmth of the fire as it filled your cottage home. The light of the flames danced across the wooden walls and filled the room with the husky scent of pine and cedar wood. Outside, rain tapped merrily against the windows and the sun moved slowly across the moody sky.
“Get it? Because you can make fire and shit.” You hummed, stretching your arms over your head. With little to no noise the Lordling leaped from his spot on the floor onto your body, hovering over it carefully as you yelped and your eyes flew open to stare into his own.
“Because I can make fire and shit?” He mimicked your words, tossing his head for added cinematics. Rolling your eyes you shoved his shoulder and the Vanserra rolled off of you and back onto the floor with a hearty chuckle. “I suppose I can!” He continued to laugh as he reached upward and pressed a flame hot hand onto your bare inner thigh. With a screech you slapped his hand away and curled into yourself, glowering at him as he hunched over with laughter, his face a pretty shade of pink as he watched you simper.
“You're such an ass!” You laughed before leaping onto his form and pinning him to the carpet below. His chest ached with laughter as your nimble fingers found his sides and danced there, effectively paralyzing him with how much it tickled. You assaulted him with such finatics until your sides ached and your knees burned.
“Hmm, I quite like when youre in this position.” Eris mumbled, watching you with parted lips as you slid your hands up his arms and pinned them lightly above his head. Your hair was tickling the tips of his cheeks and suddenly the room seemed far too hot.
“Oh ew.” You twisted your face in fake disgust as you released his hands and stood from the floor. You made your way to the kitchen as he whined in protest, sitting on his knees to watch you from over the couch.
“I was just being honest!” He cried, smiling wickedly when you stopped in your tracks and turned to scoff at him. Offering him a one-fingered salute you checked the food that had been simmering on the stove all day, and relished in the smell of roasting meat and seasoned vegetables.
“Speaking of honesty…” You preened, turning to press your back into the counter as he entered the kitchen. He hummed and caged you in his arms, accepting the taste of dinner as you held a spoon to his lips. He closed his eyes and nearly purred at the taste. “Fallon. I like the name Fallon for a girl and the name Eryx for a boy.”
Eris’s brows creased and he leaned back, leaving his arms on either side of you. Your lips curled in a slow smile and your face had become the most gentle shade of pink he had ever seen.
“Pardon?” He whispered, swallowing thickly when you shrugged and turned in his arms to once more face the food. “(Y/N) you couldn't possibly mean…”
He removed his arms and stepped backwards, eyeing your back as you cooked.
“I think it would be nice. Don't you?” You hummed, suddenly nervous that he hated the idea. “We’ve had enough fun on our own in the past century.”
He was dead silent behind you. Your movements with the spoon stilled and you turned over your shoulder to face him. His eyes were looking at you but seeing something a million miles away.
“Well, to speak honestly…” He began and your spine straightened. His brow was furrowed and his hands were resting on his hips, the general position he took when he was getting ready to tell you no.
“I hate the name Eryx. Too close to my name and it sounds like something Lucien would name his kid.” He spoke tilting his head to the side to watch you. “Fallon though- Fallon I could get behind.”
You smiled widely and turned to face him fully, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from squealing. He moved forward once more to wrap his arms around your frame, lifting your toes from the wood beneath. Eris pressed a firm kiss to your cheek and held you close, watching your eyes mist over.
“You’d really want to?” You whispered, clasping his cheeks with your hands. He chuckled and nodded, swiping a tear off of your cheek.
“I want to do it all with you, Starfire.”
TAGS:
@brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @younxii @momlo @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @highladyofillyria @crimsonandwhiteprincess @purplevitagen @isthataknuck
#annwritesacotar#eris x reader#eris vanserra#acotar fanfiction#acotar smut#acotar#sjmaas#sjm fanfic#eris x you#acotar x reader#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#lucien x reader#acotar fanart#acomaf#helion x reader#helionacotar#helion acotar#night court#ACOTAR#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fic#smut#fluff#angst#annwrites#annwritesarchangel#autumn court
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Lidia being Mommy:
Reader is being a brat and maybe there is spanking involved?
I love her so much you don't even know😮💨💜
Permission
Lidia Cervos x Reader smut
warnings: smut without plot, oral f!receiving, light bondage, mommy kink
Cheeks flushed as you read the sensual scene before you, the characters in the book you were reading finally acting on their desires after so many chapters of tension.
You felt the need within yourself, the insatiable desire for release that you had craved since Lidia left for the Depth Charger building in your core. Wetness pooled between your thighs as you rubbed them together, breath coming short as you imagined the pleasure you sought.
One hand held the book open, the other sliding down your stomach to the apex between your thighs in a desperate attempt to alleviate the arousal building there.
“Lidia,” you moaned, eyes rolled back as you arched into your own touch. Thumb swiping over your clit, you ran a finger along the slick growing between your folds while you imagined her own hands there.
Your finger prodded at your entrance, teasing as you dropped the book to writhe against the sheets. Small gasps left your lips, covering the soft sound of your girlfriend’s boots as she walked down the hallway, stopping to watch you from the doorframe.
Clicking her tongue, Lidia drew your attention towards where she stood, your hand stilling beneath the waistband of your lacy panties.
“What are you doing, pet?” Lidia purred, stalking towards you with a preternatural grace that sent your heart racing.
“I...” you paused, blood heating at the sight before you as Lidia discarded her clothes. Arching an eyebrow at you, she flashed an amused smile.
“Yes, pet?” she continued, unfazed at your arousal emanating through the room as she dropped her lingerie, leaving her full breasts heavy and bare before you. Your hand was still awkwardly at the waistband of your own undergarments, your motions frozen as you lay stunned like a deer in the headlights.
“I, I missed you... Mommy,” you mumbled, adding the title in hopes that you would be forgiven for breaking the rules. You were never supposed to touch yourself without Lidia present, directing you how to do it.
Your girlfriend hummed, golden eyes glowing with mischief as she leaned over the edge of the bed, arms straddling your ankles. “I missed you too, pet. But we both know the rules, and what happens when you break the rules. Isn’t that right?” she cooed, overly soft as one hand found your leg, stroking softly up and down the sensitive skin there.
“Please, Lid... Mommy,” you corrected quickly, heart beating fast as wild eyes found her own. She smirked down at you, the prey caught in her snare.
“It seems you need a reminder of the rules,” Lidia quipped, her casual tone at odds with your tumultuous feelings as she spun one finger, a silent indication for you to turn around over her legs.
You obeyed, hands clutching the sheets beneath as you leaned over her toned thighs, ass in the air while you awaited your punishment. Instead, you felt spit land on your ass, Lidia’s soft hands soothing the skin there, moisturizing the tender flesh as your arousal grew.
Hips ground against her touch, eager for more. “Please, mommy. I’m sorry,” you pleaded, voice a pathetic whine that was drowned out by the wet slapping of flesh. Lidia’s hand hit hard upon your sensitive skin, a lewd moan leaving your lips at the redness that you could feel darkening your ass.
“Count for me, Love,” Lidia cooed, nails raking over your back before continuing her assault. The combination of pain and pleasure was electric, your body cringing and craving more of her, lips mindlessly thanking her for more with each hit.
Lidia finally stopped, hand stilling as her thumb stroked soft patterns on your reddened skin. “I’m not finished with you,” she warned. “Lay down, pet.”
Biting your lip, you scrambled up the bed as you watched Lidia disappear into the other room. She returned with a gleam in her eye and hands full of silk ribbons as she crawled over your exposed frame.
Grabbing your wrists, she pressed a soft kiss to each one before joining them and tying them to the frame. “Since you can’t refrain from touching yourself, I’ll have to help you,” she teased, tilting your chin while she pressed a kiss to your lips.
Hips rolled against the soft sheets, needy for her touch while Lidia turned above you. Her pussy hovered over your face, slick with her own desire that left you pulling against the restraints in need of more. “Please, mommy, please,” you begged tongue reaching out in attempt to taste her.
With a dark laugh, Lidia settled her cunt on your face, wet pussy suffocating your nose as you took the opportunity to suck her clit into your mouth. Tongue flicked out against the bud, sucking hard as you bucked against her hips, nudging your nose into her hole.
“Fuck,” Lidia moaned, head dipping to blow hot air over your core. “Good girl.”
The feeling of Lidia’s tongue on your clit nearly sent you over the edge, the wet muscle massaging you exactly how you had been craving. She pinned your hips down, holding you still to work you how she liked as you desperately worked against her core, licking and sucking whatever she would allow you.
“Good girl, right there,” she moaned from above as you nibbled on her clit, tongue curving and sucking the swollen bud as she tightened above you.
Moaning your name loudly, Lidia convulsed, slick gushing over your mouth and chin as she came. The feel and scent of her arousal sent you over the edge, her lips puckered around your clit as you hit your orgasm.
You mumbled incoherently as she cleaned up your folds, working you through your high.
“How are you feeling?” Lidia asked, voice soft as she turned to make sure you were okay.
“I’m good, Mommy,” you promised, dizzy with satisfaction as you lay trapped beneath her.
Lidia smirked at you, turning to open the drawer her nightstand to pull out a vibrator, and her strap. “Good, because I’m not done with you,” she murmured, reaching for the vibrator as her warm thighs settled on each side of your head, muffling your moans as her weight settled over you, the only sound in the room the vibrator clicking on as it hovered over your abused clit.
#crescent city#crescent city x reader#crescent city smut#lidia cervos#crescent city imagine#crescent city x you smut#crescent city x you#crescent city x reader smut#lidia cervos x reader#lidia x reader#lidia cervos x you#lidia crescent city#crescent city fanfiction#crescent city fanfic#crescent city fic#sjm fanfic#crescent city 3#crescent city reader#lidia x you#lidia x reader smut#lidia x you smut
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Welcome to chapter 2, where our favorite couple reunites and the first sparks of romance fly!
Read on AO3
Perhaps a sneak peek to tempt you? FYI, italics denote text notes or text messages!
She immediately typed out a response. I’m Gwyn. Nice to meet you. Well, officially, I guess.
He chuckled at that before asking, Is this your first time in class? I haven’t seen you here before, but I do travel a lot. Maybe I missed meeting you before?
Gwyn shook her head and started tapping out her answer. Then she paused, her eyes growing cloudy and far away, as if caught in a memory. It only lasted a few seconds, but Azriel found himself wanting to know where she’d gone for those moments. But she lifted her phone for him to read. I’ve never come to class before. Nesta has offered. Countless times. But… It just never worked out.
Even through written text, the towering man could tell that there was more to that ‘it just never worked out’ than she was willing to share. Which was completely understandable. Smart of her, to keep her guard up.
But Azriel still wanted to know.
Well, I’m glad you’re here. Have you stretched?
The wide, deer-in-headlights stare he was met with had him tossing his head back with a laugh.
Okay. Let’s start with that.
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