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enchantmentandshadows · 10 months

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SJM Crackship Month : Historical AU

SJM Crackship Month - Day 15 - Historical AU

Crackship: Nuala x Eris

The ball was a smashing success, every prominent family for miles was in attendance and Beron Vanserra stood watching the whole thing proudly. His gatherings were always the talk of the season as he spared no expense, each gathering more grand than the last. Perhaps the most satisfying thing, was knowing that those who hated him were as desperate to receive an invitation as those he called friends.

Beron surveyed the ballroom, noting each of his sons entertaining ladies of exceptional breeding and wealth. His name and legacy would live on, he’d made sure of that, and if his sons were as ruthless as he’d taught them to be, they would amass even more power and wealth than he’d managed to do in all his years.

Eris, his eldest, also stood scanning the crowd. As Beron’s heir, he knew he was always being closely watched. As heir, he had to be most discerning of the female company he kept, at least in public. Whispers and gossip made no secret that the Vanserra sons, arrogant and wicked as they could be, were exceptional lovers.

“See anything you like?” Eris’ youngest brother Lucien asked, joining him to look over the crowd.

“Same faces we see at every other ball.” Eris answered, not looking away from the crowd. “Though I suspect that suits you quite well. Have you had your requisite dance with Elain Archeron yet?.”

“Her sister is here, if that’s what you’re asking.” Lucien smirked, not denying that Elain Archeron had captivated him from the very moment they met.

“I’m not.” Eris said tightly. It was true that Nesta Archeron had fascinated him for a time, but her venomous ways had grown tiresome quickly. He had enough misery dealing with his father, he wasn’t looking to marry into more no matter how pretty a package it may come in.

“Right, well if you don’t dance with someone soon, father will have words.” Lucien reminded, clapping him on the back.

“Father can-” The insult died on his tongue as he watched an absolutely breathtaking woman enter the ballroom. Hair shining and black as night, skin a rich umber and the grace of a Queen.

“Can what-Eris!” Lucien laughed, taking the drink Eris shoved at him before descending the grand staircase. He wanted to see what or who had captured his brothers attention, but a certain doe-eyed Archeron was looking quite lonely and in need of a dance partner and he wouldn’t keep her waiting.

Quickly, Eris made his way through the crowd, weaving through guests until he reached the mysterious new beauty in the lilac gown. Against all reason and propriety, he reached out and grabbed her gloved hand. She whirled on him instantly, both of them startled and stunned into silence. She had the most stunning grey eyes he had ever seen.

“I’m sorry.” He said, recovering first and quickly releasing her hand.

“It’s quite alright.” She said with a nod before turning to leave again. Eris' hand quickly found hers again. Slowly, she turned, looking at him apprehensively.

“That wasn’t a dismissal.” He said, a small smile playing at his lips. Did she not know who he was?

“Nor was it a proper introduction.” She said, her tone light even as she scolded him. “Are you always so familiar with women you don’t know?” She asked, brow raised.

“My apologies, lady.” He gave a bow, not mocking, though there was a mischievous gleam in his eye that didn't go unnoticed. “Please, allow me the pleasure of a dance so that I might further apologize for being so forward.”

Eris extended his hand, holding his breath while she appeared to consider his offer.

“I don’t dance with strangers I’m afraid.”

“Eris Vanserra." He offered quickly. "My father is hosting this ball.” He said smoothly. If she wanted to play games, he would be more than happy to oblige her. “And you are?”

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Eris Vanserra.” She smiled, placing her hand in his and allowing him to sweep her into a waltz.

“That was only half an introduction, you know.” He reminded her, desperately needing to know her name.

“Perhaps you could guess it.” She smiled up at him, her grey eyes seeming to see straight through to his soul.

“The only name that comes to mind is Aphrodite.” He smiled, her answering laugh like music to his ears but she offered no name to soothe his burning curiosity.

“Who are you here with?” He asked, approaching from a different angle to solve this mystery.

“Well I’m here with you, my lord.” She smiled, twirling under his arm.

“Are you always so vexing?” He asked, extending his arm to twirl her out before watching her flutter back to him.

“Oh no. It’s never quite this much fun.” She laughed and Eris couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

“I will find out, you know. I have my ways.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second, my Lord.” She admitted, joining the other ladies in the center of the room. Eris watched her graceful turn, searching for any hint that she might know the other ladies but he found none before she rejoined him.

“I could order you to tell me.” He said, having absolutely no intention of doing so.

“But then our little game would be over.” She smiled, knowing he wouldn’t.

“You must give me something.” He insisted, positively charmed by her.

“Rose.” She answered.

“Too common.”

“Peony.”

“Lovely, but I don’t think so." He decided with a shake of his head.

“Mildred.”

“Liar.” He scoffed.

There was that laugh of hers again. He would hear it all night if he could, if she would allow him to jeopardize all her attention this evening. Panic was already beginning to set in as they reached the end of the waltz and he bowed to her again.

“Another dance?” He asked before one of his brothers barreled into him, trailed by a few others. He was clearly drunk and rambling on about challenging someone to a duel over a game of cards, one he’d likely cheated at.

“Aiden, you idiot.” Eris frowned, helping keep his brother on his feet.

“Get him to his room in one piece and make sure he stays there.” He ordered his younger brothers, handing Aiden back into their care. They muttered apologies, taking him away, but when Eris looked back, his Aphrodite had already vanished.

He searched the entire ballroom, even returning back to the top of the stairs but she was nowhere to be found. All night he searched for her, only engaging in conversation to enquire if anyone had seen the beauty in the lilac gown but no one had. It was as if she were a figment of his imagination, a dream he’d been forced to wake from and couldn’t seem to find his way back to.

Eventually, he’d given up and lost all interest in the goings on downstairs, instead electing to retire early. He’d get an earful from his father tomorrow for not entertaining the right ladies, or making the right connections, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. So lost in thought was Eris that he didn’t notice the discarded gown until the lilac fabric was at his feet. He snatched it up, immediately recognizing it as Aphrodite’s gown and frantically began searching for her.

Eris didn’t have to search for long before a figure darted from the shadows of an adjacent hallway, crashing into him with such force he was nearly knocked off his feet.

Stunning grey eyes met his before the lithe beauty shoved away from him and darted off, dressed in black clothes that clung to her like a second skin.

“Aphrodite.” He breathed, tearing off after her, her gown still clutched tightly in his hand.

She was fast, but he was determined, reaching her just as they heard shouts from the corridor ahead. She didn’t resist, not when he grabbed her hand and pulled her in the opposite direction, or when he ducked into a narrow hallway his dark coat shielding them, his hand pressed over her mouth. His wild amber eyes scanned the hallway, his body tensing as the guards rushed by without glancing in their direction. Her eyes, however, remained on him. Quietly memorizing the lines and angles of his handsome face, his dusting of freckles and the subtle hint of a dimple on his cheek.

He was helping her, but why? Surely he would change his mind once he realized why she was there. Slowly, his gaze shifted to meet hers and she realized she’d been clinging to his sides. There were questions burning in those amber eyes of his, but he knew better than to ask them here. They’d been lucky not to have been discovered, she wouldn’t ruin her luck now by arguing with her savior.

“Why are you helping me?” She finally asked as she allowed him to lead her through the manor.

“You know, my father doesn’t like being made a fool of.” He said, ignoring her question. No wonder she hadn’t revealed her identity earlier.

“And you-

“Love making him miserable.” Eris cut in, holding up a beautiful necklace of glittering rubies and diamonds. She patted her neck, where the necklace she’d purloined from Beron’s safe sat only moments ago.

“But this does not belong to you, my lovely little thief.”

She reached out, fast as lightning but he was quicker, tucking the jewels into the pocket of his waistcoat.

“How?” She frowned, now following him of her own free will. "How did you slip that off without me noticing?

“You’re not the first lady I’ve liberated from her apparel.” He answered with a smug smirk she’d have liked to wipe from his face. She had plotted and planned carefully for weeks only for things to go horribly wrong as soon as she’d snatched that necklace.

She opened her mouth to return a venomous barb when they both stopped, the exit blocked by more guards. Eris hissed, grabbing her hand again and leading her deeper into the manor, taking servants hallways and stairways to help remain hidden.

“They won’t cause a scene, not while the ball still goes on. My father would have their heads if they did.” Eris assured her, handing the rumpled ball of lilac fabric back to her.

“Sneaky as you are, a woman in such a state of undress is sure to be noticed. You’ll want to put that back on before you go.”

“But it’s so hard to move around in.” She offered with a dramatic sigh, once again letting him pull her out of the hallway and into a dark room.

“For a gentleman, you really are quite scandalous you know. Taking a lady into a darkened room like this.”

A lantern flickered to life, illuminating his handsome face and part of the room. His hair was like fire, even more so in the flickering lamp light. Quietly, he made his way to another lantern, lighting it as well.

“What an ostentatious room.” She said, nose crinkling as she looked around, her lilac gown carelessly left on the floor. “What preening peacock must rest his head here.” She teased, knowing exactly whose room she was standing in.

“If you’re so put off by it, allow me to help you take a leap from the balcony.” He said sourly, leaning against a chest of drawers, arms crossed as he eyed her carefully.

“Oh, don’t be so offended.” She said, waving a hand in his direction as she slowly made her way around, examining the decor more closely. “Is any of this really to your taste anyway? Looks more like your fathers.”

“There is only my fathers way here.” He answered. “Why are stealing from him?” He asked, shucking off his coat and tossing it onto a nearby chair.

“And you don’t enjoy things here?” She asked, ignoring his question.

“The eldest son of a wealthy Duke.” She observed, picking up baubles and books, carefully examining them before setting them back down.

“A handsome rake with quite a reputation.” She could feel him watching her every move.

“Tell me more." He said. "And do start with how handsome you find me.” He answered, watching as she slowly made her way around to him. Truly he had never met a woman so beautiful, nor one who intrigued and fascinated him so thoroughly.

She laughed and he thought his heart might burst at the sound of it, paired with seeing her this way. Every tempting dip and curve on full display. Her lips parted and he waited for whatever answer she might give. Not a doubt in his mind that it would continue to fan this flame between them. Instead, their flirtation was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door causing both of them to freeze, looking wide eyed at one another.

Before she could utter a word she was tackled onto the bed, a protest on the tip of her tongue when the door flew open.

“Your grace-“

“GET OUT!” Eris ordered, voice full of command. “Can you not see my attentions are quite occupied?

The guard glanced at the discarded dress on the floor and Eris’ coat, haphazardly strewn on the chair.

“Of course your grace, apologies." He stammered. "But there’s been a theft-

“Whatever it is, you won’t find it here.” He said, his tone clipped. “Nothing stolen here but the virtue of this delicious little minx.” Eris all but purred, looking down at the gorgeous female under him.

She couldn’t stifle her laugh, reaching up to run her fingers through Eris’ soft, red hair for effect. He leaned into her touch, for effect or purely out of pleasure, neither was sure.

“Out.” Eris repeated, turning his burning gaze to the guard, the door quickly slamming shut. Neither of them moved, not until the guards footsteps disappeared down the corridor.

Slowly, Eris rose from the bed, offering a hand to the lovely thief. She took it, rising and looking up at him as if he were a mystery that she too was trying to solve.

“Things could be worse,” He said in answer to her earlier question. “But life here certainly has its moments.”

“So you’re not just a poor little lord in a gilded cage?”

He scoffed, tipping her chin up. “Any pity would be wholly wasted on me, Lady.”

Gods, he was so tempted to kiss her, he could swear he saw the same need in her eyes but neither made a move.

“You still haven’t told me why you wanted that necklace.”

“Not me, my handsome Lord. I am but a humble servant to those who pay me.”

“And who paid you for that piece?” He asked, his voice quiet, softer than she’d heard before.

“I think you know, my Lord.” She said, slipping a small envelope from her pocket.

Immediately, Eris recognized the elegant script of his mother. The mother who’d been forbidden from seeing her sons after she fled her abusive husband and married one who loved her instead. The mother he’d only seen a few times in passing, forbidden to even acknowledge her lest he be thrown into the streets, leaving his brothers behind.

“She bade me give you this, though I will require a small payment first as you’ve prevented me from completing my job.”

Eris only raised a brow in answer.

“One kiss, to make up for all the trouble you’ve caused me tonight.” She said, waving the small envelope at him before hiding her hand behind her back.

“Is everything a game to you?” He asked, stepping toward her, one warm hand cradling her cheek, the other reaching for the envelope behind her back.

“I only play games when there’s something worth winning.” She whispered, moving to meet him halfway, pressing her lips to his.

She practically melted against him, letting him pull her closer as he deepened the kiss. He was like fire, wild and unpredictable but warm and comforting at the same time. Everything about him was carefully crafted, a mask and a half truth but not this. This kiss was all Eris, truth and passion and for just one moment, she wasn’t a liar or a thief, she was just a woman. The kiss wasn’t chaste or vulgar, but somewhere in between where passion and yearning intertwined.

She was the first to pull away. He’d have kissed her until he ran out of breath, but he remained, eyes closed as her delicate fingers threaded through his hair and caressed his cheek.

“You should lie down.” She said softly, taking him by the hand. Eris opened his eyes and realized he was swaying on his feet. Still, he was confused by the look of concern on her face as he allowed her to sit him on the edge of the bed.

“I’m afraid I dosed you with a sedative earlier when you grabbed me." She explained, the smallest hint of guilt in her voice. "You didn’t feel a thing, such a big, strong man.” She smiled, guiding him back to lie down even as he reached for her, grabbing her hand.

“You’re going to sleep, Eris.” She explained, her voice soft and soothing as she easily slipped her hand from his weakening grip. “Just long enough so I can slip away without you giving me anymore trouble.”

His brow furrowed, his body betrayed him as he fought to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Heavy lidded eyes followed her hands as she slipped the sparkling necklace from his waistcoat pocket and replaced it with the letter from his mother.

Eris watched helplessly as the woman of his dreams slipped through his fingers, likely never to be seen again. She gathered the mass of lilac silk and lace, stopping to look over at him one last time, his pleading eyes stopping her in her tracks. Slowly, she made her way back over to him, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“Nuala.” She whispered to him, noting his subtle smile and the sweetest dimple in his cheek as he let his eyes close at last. “My name is Nuala.”

@sjmcrackshipmonth

#sjmcrackshipmonth #sjmcrackshipmonth23 #shadowfire #nuala x eris #eris x nuala #acotar crackship #crackyatch #eris vanserra

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starfall-spirit · 10 months

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Ship: Feyrian

Summary: After a border breach resulting in an attempt on Feyre's life, precautions are deemed necessary to protect the lone heiress. It wouldn't be such a bother to Feyre if her childhood friend still acted as such, but after four years of distance, Jurian's views have changed.

It isn't her best friend guarding her, but a man like any other soldier there to do a simple job. The question is whether desire will outweigh a good soldier's sense of duty, or if Feyre has completely lost the boy she used to know.

CW: Mutual Pining. This will be two parts. The second part will be NSFW.

Chapter I: Reunion

“No.”

“Feyre—”

“I said no. I will not have some guard hovering day and night because of your groundless fears.”

“You were attacked!” her father snarled. “Barely ten feet into our forests you were attacked. If it weren’t for that fool being so poorly trained, you’d be dead.”

She nearly scoffed. The bastard who attacked her had been trained well enough. But so had she, by her own hard work alone and the occasional help of guards around her when she was left in the company of her governess—an old woman easy enough for her to escape as a child and young teen, now thankfully absent in her early adulthood. It wasn’t a lucky punch that left him incapacitated, whatever her father may believe, but multiple tactical blows.

But princesses didn’t learn to fight. They didn’t need to. She was born with the sole purpose of marrying well and granting the kingdom a pureblood heir. Her husband would tell the armies where and when to march. She would stand aside and let him. That little reality had never sat well. She could easily recall the moment her views on her duty changed for good.

~~~~~

After another dreadful etiquette lesson years ago she snuck into the barracks, tracking down the lightest wooden sword she could find. She was caught before she could sneak out again, by a boy with moppish brown hair and warm eyes, just a few years older than her. While she was taught to act like a lady from a young age, the soldiers started early on too. He couldn’t have been past fourteen back then.

He merely took the sword from her hands and set it back on the rack, saying, “If you wish to learn, my lady, I would be happy to ask my father to teach you when you’re able to attend.”

“My father would forbid it,” she said with a frown. “I do not have as many freedoms as one may assume, the only daughter and heir and all that nonsense.”

“My father is trustworthy. Come here when you can escape that old woman. I would like to serve a warrior queen one day.”

“Thank you… What is your name?”

“Jurian, Your Highness.”

She nodded. “Jurian, I can not guarantee repayment. At least, nothing monetary.”

“As I said, seeing the first warrior queen would be reward enough.” She flinched as an equally frail and shrill voice called to her. If her governess would just let her be. “Good evening, Your Highness.”

~~~~~

“Father, I do not need to be monitored like some helpless child. I—”

“Jurian,” he called, once again interrupting her protest as if she was nothing more than a pest.

In her anger, Feyre hadn’t realized her long-time trainer and friend was the ruggedly handsome man posted by the door when she stormed in to address the note her father sent about a guard trailing her if she left her room. But there he was, back from his assignment on the eastern edge of their territory. Posted there at the door and hearing every word of her rant. Mother spare her.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness.”

Impassive as his face was, she knew he was bound to bend. He wanted a warrior queen, but he still served a king of tradition. And he’d vow to protect a supposedly powerless princess, threatened in the woods.

“You’ll see to it my daughter is kept safe within our walls. She’s not to go beyond the market square. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He turned to her, his usual grin restrained to a polite half smile. “Am I to begin immediately?”

“Immediately,” her father confirmed. “You are not to leave her alone until she retires for the evening. That will be all.”

He bowed again before turning back to Feyre. “Your Highness.”

She just kept from clenching her fists in her ridiculous dress, each step clipped with anger as she stormed from the room. Jurian kept in step behind her, his face clear of any expression each time she turned to look. Her hesitation there wasn’t entirely due to his chosen solitude, but to how she felt her own emotions shifting each time she looked at him. In the four years they had been apart he had changed. Matured. He wasn’t the mop-headed boy just turning twenty, but a true man. Refined, she’d go as far as to say. But still holding a slightly wild glint in his eyes, despite his stiff behavior.

They had made it all the way to her art room before she broke the silence. “What is wrong with you?” she asked.

“Pardon?”

“Oh don’t act all formal now. You haven’t spoken to me that way since we were children.”

“And it was wrong of me to fail in that regard. You are my princess. I should have always treated you as such.”

She blinked, confusion setting in. Clearly a thing or two had changed in the years he was away. Here they were, once dear friends and now total strangers it appeared. Not only was he failing to treat her as a friend, but he’d fully returned to seeing her as nothing more than his princess. The little doll everyone wanted her to be. Her only true friend in this gilded cage was just another soldier now.

“I take it you won’t join me in training tonight?”

“No, princess. I’m afraid not.”

“Very well then.” Turning on her heel, she shut the door to her painting room, doing all she could to avoid thinking about the betrayal found just outside of it.

~~~~~

“By the Mother, why me?”

Jurian had done his part, keeping his country from war. He thought that would be the greatest trial of his lifetime, unless another conflict came about during his time of service. He didn’t think it would be the moment he was assigned to protect Feyre. She was still the girl he remembered from a time before he was called to the east. At eighteen she had mostly matured, a gangly girl becoming a lady. But she had still been a bit baby-faced then. Naive in looking for a bit more guidance.

But just fifteen minutes ago she swept into the hall like a raging storm, straight to her father’s throne and starting a fight she’d never win. But her spirit had only grown since their parting, and she wouldn’t back down without a fight. He’d heard rumors in his camp from new recruits of a princess who drew in suitors with her beauty and drove them away with that spirit, though some called it something far less kind.

And he hung on every word until he was finally called home, witnessing it for himself. And he could see it all within her. Beauty Untamable, she might name that self-portrait she’d never paint. Hearing every word of that exchange, he didn’t think she’d have caved if her father called on someone she was unfamiliar with.

But she had trusted him. Let the argument die with the assumption he would neglect his duty to the crown in favor of appeasing his charge. But what he had learned in the past four years was that nothing could come before honoring the crown and what was asked of it. The king’s order would stand higher than the princess’. And he would obey it until the moment she took the crown herself, undoubtedly putting whatever suitor remained in his place. A simple man married to a queen who would not be silenced.

She was everything he wanted. And everything he could never have. She was his duty, nothing more.

@sjmcrackshipmonth // @goddess-aelin // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiyawhitethorn // @acotar-fanns

#acotar #feyre x jurian #feyrian #fanfiction #sjmcrackshipmonth #mutual pining

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shyvioletcat · 9 months

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Oh hi! Yes, This is something a little new and different, especially for @sjmcrackshipmonth. For Pirate Day my wonderful friend @sassyhobbits and I came up with a little idea, she came up with this wonderful artwork and I wrote a fic and we had so much fun. So, without further rabbling here is my first official Aelin x Fenrys work.

CW: it’s smutty, like really smutty. Secondhand embarrassment

FIND THE ACCOMPANYING ARTWORK HERE.

~~~~~

People told Aelin she was mad for running a tavern in a pirate port, and at times she would have to admit that they were right. Brawls were common, there had been damage to the ceilings from more gunshots than she could count, when things truly got out of hand there was an occasional stabbing. Aelin had threatened carousers here and there herself down the barrel of the pistol she kept stowed away in a dark corner of the counter. But for all its trouble the White Stag thrived under her charge. She could never be idle and a tavern in a pirate port like this was a lucrative business. And it wasn’t like she was without protection.

Rhoe Galathynius was the most prominent merchant in Orynth, which made him a veritable king amongst men. Coin was the power in these waters, and their city on the river thrived under his watchful eye and scheming. So the fancy, looping gold lettering of her family name under the wood carved sign of the rearing white stag hanging above her door let patrons know who they were dealing with. It was an assurance for both her and her customers that serious misdeeds would be met with severe punishment, and that kept people coming to her fine establishment night after night.

Tonight was busy, patrons filling nearly every space they could. It was good for business but it was running Aelin off her feet. Usually she was content to watch from the landing above the main floor or slip through the crowd mingling, leaving the bartending to those she hired. But tonight with a barmaid ill that’s where Aelin found herself—pouring pint after pint, the pockets of her skirts full of coin. The gossip was that a few ships had docked over the past few days, bringing an influx of commerce and bodies to the city. Aelin hadn’t caught the names of the ships, but from the energy the city hummed they must have been successful with their seaborn endeavours.

“Lass, two more!” A man weathered by wind and salt called to her. From the way he swayed he probably didn’t need another, let alone two, she would have to cut him off after this.

Aelin grabbed two tankards from below the bar and filled them with beer from the keg behind her. By the second the flow was slowing, a sure sign she’d need to send Ren down to the cellar for another. His main job was to provide muscle when things got out of hand as pirates and their affiliates tended to do. It was just convenient for her that his muscles were useful for other things as well. When she had a moment to breathe she’d have to track him down.

“All clean,” Luca said, setting down a clean crate of tankards. “And more to wash I see, my hands will be shrivelled as prunes by the end of the night.”

“My apologies, but I’ll be sure to compensate you accordingly,” Aelin took a handful of her green overskirt and shook it enough that the coins in her pocket jingled.

Luca’s eyes lit up as the crate of dirty tankards was set in front of him. “I’ll get these cleaned up right away.”

Aelin smiled then started unloading the clean drinkware that would be dirty again all too soon. She didn’t bother to make the arrangement look tidy, on a night like this no one would notice. Feeling sweat gather on her brow Aelin dotted it away with on her sleeve. It wasn’t a particularly hot night but with the amount of bodies in the tavern and how busy it was, her temperature wasn’t surprising. She was glad of the stray breezes that would brush over her shoulders, bare from the way her blouse draped off them.

“Spare a drink for a poor, weary sailor?”

The question came from behind her, smooth and sensuous, the words were nothing but a tempting caress over her skin. Aelin knew that voice and knew its full intent, even though it had been missing from her tavern for months. As pleased as she was to hear it she made sure her smile was hidden away as she turned around slowly, a hand on her hip conveying her feigned displeasure at being interrupted. This is how they would start the game, and if he played along they would both win.

“Fenrys Moonbeam, what brings your sorry arse into my tavern,” Aelin drawled.

Fenrys’ smile was pure taunt and flirtation. “The rum and the company of course.”

“So the rum takes precedence over the company then?” Aelin said, stepping up to be just a little closer.

“Ah, Princess,” Fenrys said, leaning his elbows on the counter that was still between them and not bothering to hide the appreciative sweep his eyes did over her. “You know what the truth of it is.”

Aelin couldn’t help it, she felt the corner of her lips tilt into a crooked smile. But she also wasn’t about to concede, “Do I, though? Nary a word all these long months, for all I knew you had found a more favourable port and run off with a prettier girl.”

“Prettier than you? I think I’d be hard pressed to find someone as lovely as you, Miss Galathynius,” Fenrys said.

“You’re flattering me for a free drink,” Aelin accused.

Fenrys tipped his head back and laughed. “Is it working?”

There was a thunk as the short glass hit wood, and then Aelin was pouring out a measure of her best rum. “Yes.”

Their fingers brushed as Fenrys took the glass and he downed it. While he was occupied Aelin took the opportunity to peruse over him. First she looked for any sign of injury, pirating had its many dangers but from what she could see there were no noticeable hurts. Fenrys looked good, he always did. His golden sunkissed curls were tied back from his face showing off the perpetual smile that seemed to grace his lips. The blue coat he wore was very dashing, with the cut of it accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. Ever the flaunter he’d chosen a white shirt that dipped low, the white of it contrasting the deep bronze of his skin made deeper from the hours he spent in the sun. He’d been gods’ blessed with handsomeness that could only be dreamed of, and an ego to match. Some found him insufferable, mainly those who lacked a sense of humour or any idea of fun. For Aelin, he was an utter delight.

She was called away before they could continue their conversation, but Fenrys didn’t go anywhere. He lingered at the bar, claiming a stool when one became available.

“The next one will cost you,” Aelin said, wiping down the counter so it looked like she had a reason to stop.

“Always such a hard businesswoman.” Fenrys didn’t protest and dropped two coins on the worn wood.

Aelin slid them off into her and then her pocket. “What will it be?”

“That sweet Perranth wine if you have it,” Fenrys requested.

“You’re in luck, my supplier just brought in a delivery yesterday,” Aelin wasted no time, because she didn’t have it, and poured Fenrys a tankard of wine. Glasses were for quiet gatherings, not an overcrowded tavern where it was likely to be knocked out of an unsuspecting hand and shattered on the floor.

“My thanks,” Fenrys tipped his drink at her.

Aelin left him to his wine and tended to the never ending flow of patrons looking for food and drink. Fenrys just stayed sitting there and making sure to catch her eye whenever she passed by. There was no question as to why he was here.

One evening a year or two ago Fenrys had come in with the crew of the Maeve. That night had been vastly different to this, with Fenrys and his crewmates nearly the only customers for the evening. That had allowed an easier night for Aelin with more than enough opportunity for conversation with the charismatic man—not with the others because they were a sullen and broody bunch—and eventual flirting. As the night wore on, she and Fenrys ended up on a low couch by the fire. Along with his staggering handsomeness, he was also highly entertaining. His ludicrous stories had Aelin’s sides hurting with laughter and he was kind enough to ply her with enough compliments to keep her by his side. And when it was just the two of them left basking in the fire’s warmth and Fenrys leaned in, she’d let him kiss her. Which led to Aelin guiding him up the stairs and to her room where they kept each other company in other ways.

Since then, whenever he was in port Fenrys appeared in her tavern and they spent what time they could together until he was called away to the sea again. His captain was a hard bastard and didn’t see the point to lingering on land. The first mate wasn’t much better. Aelin had more than her fair share of run-ins with Rowan Whitethorn—none of them ending well. Their arguments had become legendary. She was more than sure that she hated him and that the feeling was mutual.

Fenrys couldn’t be more different than those men, vivacious and brash, he was more than enough a match for her when it came to wit. It was hard to find a flaw in the man. With so much in his favour, Aelin was still unsure whether or not she was in love with him. He was gone too often and for too long for any real emotion to take root. But at the very least they were friends, and they had fun. Without Fenrys her life would be far more dull and the unexpectedness of his arrival always gave their trysts a thrill. If he ever gave up seafaring maybe she could love him more than she did. There was a wildness to Fenrys that only the sea could soothe. Life on land just might bore him to death.

Despite the lack of attention, Fenrys remained, his thumb running over a loose nail that was poking out of the wooden counter. Aelin made note to fix that, she didn’t need the complaints of an unobservant patron who hurt themselves or ripped their clothing. She had to commend Fenrys for his patience, a lesser man might have run off by now.

“How has your day been, Miss Galathynius?” Fenrys asked when Aelin stopped near him to pour out a measure of rum for another customer.

“As you can see, I’m very busy tonight,” Aelin told him, watching his eyes shine as he sipped.

He didn’t look away as the tankard lowered. “I can wait.”

Aelin wanted to sigh in self pity, but she didn’t. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“You can bet on it,” Fenrys said, his words a sensual promise.

Aelin passed off the tankard to the patron who gave her the money in exchange, when there was a call for more beer it reminded her of the impending problem. “Make yourself useful and I might think about it.”

Fenrys’ head titled, the beaded lock of his hair swaying. “How so?”

“I need another one of these,” Aelin said and slapped the keg behind her, “brought up from the cellar.”

Finishing off his wine far quicker than it deserved Fenrys got up from his stool. “It would be my pleasure.”

Aelin pulled out the ring of keys that she tucked into the wide belt around her waist and handed them over to the pirate. “Do not cause me more trouble than you're worth down there.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Fenrys said with a wink, fingers grazing over the outside of her palm and up her fingers. Despite the heat of the room and the busy fluster Aelin had worked herself into she shivered. That was the first time they had touched and that soft caress had her craving more.

She didn’t have long to dwell on that as she was summoned again and was more than occupied while Fenrys was gone. Drinks were poured one after the other, bowls of Emrys’ chowder went out from the kitchens, the way this was going Aelin wouldn’t be done until the sun came up. Gods knew if Fenrys would be around that long. Aelin groaned, cursing her bad luck. The one night Fenrys would be assuredly in Orynth she would be run off her feet and too busy and too tired to enjoy his company.

Before too long the Fenrys was back, keg on his shoulder to keep it out of the way of the patron’s heads—very considerate. He stepped behind the counter, easing the fresh beer onto the empty stand and expertly fixed the tap. With his job done Fenrys grabbed himself a tankard and helped himself to the first serving. Aelin didn’t bother to stop him, she just gave him a crooked smile and a playful roll of her eyes. He stayed where he was, even though he shouldn’t. Aelin ignored his antics and grabbed two tankards for her own uses. As she leaned over to fill them with beer a broad hand rested on the small of her back, deft fingers tucking her keys back into her belt. With two tankards full, Aelin straightened, one in each hand, and found her path blocked.

“Out of my way, please,” she huffed and then blew at a loose strand of hair. She had tied a scarf around her head in an effort to keep her hair out of her face. The flustering conditions and the humidity weren’t helping the intent.

“Where are you going?” Fenrys asked, standing a little taller but not leaving for where he should be as a paying customer.

Aelin took advantage of the space she could, easing through the small gap Fenrys left between his body and the counter, careful not to spill the beer. “To those people in the corner, I promised I’d bring it over once you had done your job.”

She thought she was free and clear when troublesome hands on her hips stopped her progress. “Do I get a thank you for that?”

The annoyed smirk that lacked the needed irritation was already on her face when she looked up at him. Fenrys was a good head taller than her, his face was full of mirth and all but begging for a kiss as he looked down at her. But Aelin wasn’t ready to give into him just yet.

“Have you bathed since making port, or was the allure of my company too compelling?” She knew the answer, she had noticed the lack of braids he wore while at sea, and she was sure his hair was wet when he first walked in.

That smile fell, an affronted look filled his face. “I’m offended that you would assume that, Aelin.”

“I’m offended that I wasn’t worth skipping a bath over,” Aelin told him.

That was enough of a distraction and when Fenrys laughed Aelin took her chance and stepped out of his hold. Over the commotion of the tavern she swore she could still hear his amusement chasing her through the crowd. Aelin set the foaming tankards down and accepted the generous contribution to the establishment in return. Her pocket was starting to get severely weighed down, she might have to duck up to her rooms to empty it into her coffer.

Her return to her task as barmaid was slower than anticipated, many patrons stopping her for greetings and snippets of gossip. Aelin liked to know what was going on in her city so she listened to all of it, tucking away bits of information that might be useful to herself or her father. Rumours were buzzing that the Maeve had been quite successful on its latest voyage and promised more profit. A hoard of treasure maps was cited as the reason. She might have to ask Fenrys about it.

Eventually Aelin made it back to her post and was surprised to see a small woman with dark hair seated next to Fenrys. They chatted, and the woman laughed at something he said, even touching his forearm that rested on the bar. If Aelin didn’t recognise the woman she might have been jealous. The golden, smiling man was not the company her friend preferred to seek out.

“Elide, hello,” Aelin said, resting her elbow on the other woman’s shoulder.

Elide was dressed in a simple lavender gown, nothing gaudy or to draw attention. She preferred an inconspicuous life where she was the one who made the rules. Her family winery in Perranth was her’s once her parents decided to retire. In the meantime she set about proving just how capable she was.

“I was just chatting to Elide about her wonderful wine,” Fenrys said. “Amongst other things.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“There was a request for a barrel to be sent to the Maeve and I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the captain who was the only one left on the ship,” Elide explained. “Such a sullen bastard. I could barely get three words out of him before he disappeared back into his cabin. Luckily before he did he threw some coins at some boys on the dock and they carried it up the gangway.”

“I don’t know why you don’t find yourself a new captain,” Aelin directed at Fenrys.

The man just shrugged. “He’s good at what he does and I get the benefits. It’s not like I have to talk to him. I leave all that up to Whitethorn.”

“Whitethorn? Isn’t he the one who you threw a glass at that one time?” Elide asked.

Aelin huffed, the sound full of aggravation, and then went back to being behind the counter. “The very same.”

One evening for some reason beyond her, Rowan Whitethorn had graced her tavern with his insufferable presence. Nothing had been to his standards, not the beer, not the music and he had been very vocal about it. Aelin had told him to go elsewhere if the current surroundings were so offensive, he ignored her and chose to stay. When he claimed the beer was cheap and tasted like shit she had lost her temper. She had picked up a nearly empty glass of wine and threw it at him which he had effortlessly dodged, something akin to shock on his face as he watched the red liquid drip down the wall. Her demanding he pay for the damages had been the final straw and with a scowl on his sharp and handsome face he left her tavern. Aelin counted that as a win for her.

“The glass was chipped anyway, it was no loss to me.”

Fenrys looked like he was trying to keep his laughter in and like he was about to say something he’d surely regret.

“Don’t,” Aelin said, pointing a finger at him. “You’ll not say a word if you know what’s good for you.”

Yielding to her request, Fenrys held up his hands, the gold rings on his fingers glinting in the low light. “Understood, Princess. Now if you fine ladies will excuse me.”

He was gone moments later, disappearing into the crowd, but Aelin had no doubt that he would return. Fenrys was far too eager for her company to be dissuaded so easily. There was a call further down the counter for more beer and Aelin saw to that before coming back to her friend who hadn’t left.

“Can I get you anything? On the house of course,” Aelin offered.

Elide gave her a knowing look, her eyebrows raised like she could have been questioning Aelin’s sanity. “What are you doing?”

Aelin felt her own brows narrow in confusion. “Working, as you can see.”

“Aelin, my dearest, most lovely friend,” Elide said leaning forward on the counter. “You have a man here, who is desperate for your company and is more than willing to give you a long night of pleasure, and you’re passing out beers instead?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice here,” Aelin said. “Essar is ill, and you can see how busy we are. I’m not exactly the shrewd business woman I claim to be if I ignore it to take Fenrys to my bed.”

As a timely reminder yet another patron asked for a pour of wine and rum, Aelin saw to it as quickly as she could. Luck was not on her side this evening, at this rate she’d be too tired to do anything once she fell into bed.

“I won’t say that you won’t owe me for this,” Elide said, standing up from her stool, “because you will.”

“What are you…”

With quick fingers Elide braided her hair back, securing the end with a dark piece of ribbon. “Show me where everything is.”

It took Aelin a moment to catch on, her face going slack before she grinned. She showed Elide where everything she might need was, going over it twice more for her own peace of mind than her friend requiring more clarification. Aelin also made sure to inform the other’s working tonight so there wasn’t any confusion as to why Elide was behind the counter.

“Keep the tankard tilted, helps limit the foam and unhappy customers,” Aelin explained and the amber liquid rose higher as she gave a hands-on demonstration. “And I think that’s all you need to know.”

“I think I’ve got it,” Elide said.

“And if you have any trouble, call for Ren. He’ll sort it out,” Aelin added.

“Aye, captain.” Elide flourished that comment with a salute.

“What’s going on here?” Fenrys’ voice cut through the conversation.

“I need to deposit some of tonight’s earnings in my room,” Aelin said, sauntering around to the other side of the counter, a hand raising to even out the collar of Fenrys’ jacket. “Care to join me?”

His dark eyes flashed as he easily read the implications of her invitation. “Lead the way.”

Aelin took his hand, leading him through the crowd to the staircase in the corner. The crowd took up the shanty that was being played. When they passed the small gathering dancing in front of the musicians Fenrys spun her and moved with the music, but still kept them heading towards their destination. Reaching the wooden stairs, Aelin gathered her skirts in her free hand to prevent herself from tripping as they hurried up the steps. On the landing they went left, the right led to a halfway with a handful of rooms she let out. Her private ones were larger and more secluded, the balcony on the outside offering beautiful views of the river port. That door painted a rich green was the last obstacle between her and what she wanted. And in just a few more steps she would be there.

Fenrys was a heavy and welcome presence behind her as she worked on unlocking the door. His hands were on her waist, his lips on the bare skin of her shoulder, it was enough of a distraction that Aelin was struggling to secure the key in the lock. That was only made worse when those godsdamned hands slipped higher, pressing over her bodice until they cupped her breasts. That had Aelin arching onto him, and in return that had Fenrys squeezing before his hands travelled downwards again—fingers catching on the neckline of her blouse. She was desperate to feel those hands on her with nothing to hinder them.

“Fen,” Aelin whispered harshly. He just hummed his response onto her skin. “I would very much like to open the door so that we can continue this more privately.”

“My apologies,” he said, low enough that it had her skin pebbling.

Other than that he let her be, halting his distracting journey over her body. It was a disappointing loss but the sooner Aelin got the door open, the sooner they could start again.

Blocking out everything except the lock and key was the only way that Aelin managed to get the door open. She stepped into the dimly lit space, a single lamp barely glowing on a small table where she dropped her keys. There was a couch and an armchair set in front of a cold fireplace and there was another door that led to a private bathroom. The place could have been tidier, but Aelin hadn’t exactly been expecting guests. Fenrys closing the door redirected her attention, and he all but stalked towards her. To tease and make the trek that much easier, Aelin backed up towards her bedroom. She was caught just as they got to the entrance of it, Fenrys catching her by the waist and cupping her face. The moan at that first press of his lips was undeniable.

For a while that’s all they did, just kiss in the dim light under the doorway. When Fenrys’ thumb dragged down the length of her neck, Aelin got impatient. She angled them so that they entered her room with tangled steps towards her bed. Her hands weren’t idle, searching out what bare skin they could. When there wasn’t much on offer Aelin slid one hand down the centre of his chest, all the way down to palm him through his trousers. Fenrys stumbled forward with enough strength to force Aelin back a couple of steps.

“Still have your sea legs?” Aelin teased through her laughter.

Huffing his own laugh, Fenrys pulled her closer so their noses brushed. “Maybe I’ll be steadier on my knees then.”

Before Aelin could even comment his lips were back on her’s, while his focus shifted to removing her clothes. The belt around her waist was the first to go, then his deft fingers had the laces and buttons of her forest green outer skirt undone and it was dropping over her hips. There was a jingling thud as the coins hit the floor, probably scattering, but that was a problem for later. Fenrys' progress was stalled when he discovered that the laces of her undershirt were hidden beneath her bodice. His groan of frustration was comical, and Aelin would have laughed if it weren’t for the way Fenrys’ hands were playing along the tops of her exposed breasts as his mouth lowered to her neck.

Her body was tugged forward as the laces of her bodice were pulled at. Fenrys struggled, getting clumsier the more desperate he became, and even now Aelin’s patience was running thin. She needed him, now. It seemed Fenrys felt the same because one moment her floral embroidered bodice was tight against her body and the next it was falling away. Confused by the sudden development Aelin looked down to see the metallic glint of a knife and the ribbons in pieces.

“You ruined my laces,” Aelin gasped, shoving the brute back half a step. “You bastard.”

Fenrys just smirked down at her, reaching out to slip the strap of the bodice off one shoulder, “I’ll buy you more,” then he did the same with the other. “The prettiest ribbons you can find.”

Aelin let the useless piece of clothing fall off her arms, Fenrys watching her every movement. She gave him a look that said don’t touch as she saw to the underskirt herself, her untucked blouse falling to the very top of her things. Fenrys’ gaze swept over her from head to toe, once and then twice, his eyes catching on the loose neckline that was revealing just enough to drive him wild. But he didn’t move, just waiting for Aelin to dictate what happened next.

“The prettiest and the most expensive,” Aelin said.

Fenrys nodded, not taking his eyes off her for a second. “Whatever you say.”

She didn’t bother with the buttons of her blouse, instead she just pulled it over her head. When Fenrys reappeared in her vision his eyes were ravenous and his hands twitched at his side, no doubt warring with himself and the need to touch her. Aelin pulled out the head scarf and then she was bare except for the simple underwear at her hips. Her hand draped from her neck, drifting down between the valley of her breasts.

“Do you promise?” Aelin asked, smirking at the man in front of her who looked ready to erupt.

She saw the exact moment his resolve snapped, had her laughing as he rushed forward and gave his breathless answer against her lips. “Yes.”

Aelin found herself seated on the edge of her bed, her senses fleeing as Fenrys kissed her. She was half aware of him shedding his jacket and starting on the buttons of his white shirt. The thought came to her that she should help him so that his hands might be better occupied, but she never got the chance to voice it in the slightest. Because Fenrys dropped to his knees in front of her, large hands inching up her thighs. Aelin shuddered and her underwear was pulled down her legs and thrown away. A single wink was all Fenrys gave before on her.

The first brush of his tongue over Aelin’s core had her gasping, arms quaking where they braced her weight on the bed. Fenrys was one to playfully brag about the wonders for his mouth and Aelin could truly attest to every word. She buried her hand in his curls, ruining the bun he had them tied in, and gave herself over to the feeling of every nip, every press of his tongue. Aelin moaned, loud and unrestrained. It had been too long since someone had made her feel like this. The pleasure built to the point of consuming her when every ministration stopped and Fenrys pulled out of her grasp.

“The hell… what are you doing?” Aelin asked through her laboured breaths. Her heart was pounding, her body screaming to be touched again.

“I’ll never last,” Fenrys said, sounding a little mad at himself. That anger only became more evident as he yanked at his clothes to get them off. If Aelin had the wits she might have helped him, but for now she could only watch as everything was revealed to her. “I have to have you now.”

With his pants gone Aelin could see how much Fenrys meant it. The sight of his cock, hard and ready, had her unconsciously arching towards him with need. Fenrys used that to his advantage, his muscled arm wrapping around her waist and hauling them up the bed. It was Aelin who pulled him in for a kiss and from there she let herself burn.

Fenrys settled on her hips, pressing their bodies as flushed together as they could be. The feel of him was incredible, the weight and heat of his body was something Aelin had absolutely missed. His hands ran over what they could—her sides, hips and thighs—anywhere he could reach without separating them. All the while his hips drove into her’s, the length of him rubbing enough delicious friction to make Aelin dizzy with need. She writhed against him, trying her best to get him to slip inside her, even trying to distract him by biting down on his bottom lip. It didn’t work, for now Fenrys was content to touch her, not surprising considering how long he’d been at sea. Aelin knew a touched starve man when she saw, and had thrown many of them out of her establishment over the years. If this is what Fenrys needed, she would gladly give it to him and surrendered.

One hand ceased its movements on her thigh, fingers digging into her flesh to pull her open just a little wider. Aelin moaned in anticipation, feeling the head of his cock at her entrance. Fenrys continued to tease her, his unoccupied hand pressing into her side and then up, his thumb taking a moment to run hypnotising circles over the side of her breast before heading upwards again. Then he pushed her arm up and extended it above her head, his hand dragging all the way up to meet Aelin’s. It wasn’t until their hands were laced together that his hips thrusted at just the right angle he slid into her. At the feel of him seated so deep Aelin’s body bowed into the sensation instinctually, trying to draw the man above her closer, deeper. It had Fenrys groaning into the skin of her neck as they both took a moment to collect themselves before he started moving.

Aelin had expected it to be hurried and desperate, this was anything but. Each roll of his hips was slow and thorough, enough to make Aelin’s breath catch but not take it away. Maybe Fenrys had the right idea, maybe after being apart for so long he was right to savour this first time. She was sure before morning came they would have time for more than enough rounds to make up for it.

“Talk to me, Princess. Let me know you’re here with me,” he nearly begged in between kisses.

“You feel so good, Fen,” Aelin told him.

“I could say the same.” The thrust that followed that admission was sharper than the others, a sure sign he was slowly unravelling.

“You know how I like it.”

“Like what?” Fenrys asked, voice edged with desperation as Aelin moaned. “How you like what, Aelin?”

He was enough of a bastard that he would taunt and take away what was currently driving her insane until she said it, and Aelin was tired of playing. “How I like to be fucked.”

At her words, the steady pace that Fenrys had set faltered, had his body shuddering. “The things you do to me.”

His hips snapped, the angle perfect. Aelin only knew she needed more. “Gods, I need you closer.”

Fenrys rolled them both, his grip on her arse keeping them intimately connected. Aelin thought he was going to stop then, but she felt one strong thigh bend behind and then he had pushed himself up so his back lent on her headboard. Aelin panted as she sat in Fenrys’ lap, savouring the feeling this position gave her. She wouldn’t last much longer, the coil in her stomach wound with each shift of their hips.

“There you go,” Fenrys said sweetly. “I’m right where you want me.”

“Yes,” Aelin whispered. “Thank you.”

The sass that came out of near delirium earned her a rumbling laugh and lingering kiss, making Aelin’s hips roll on their own accord. That undid Fenrys and he kissed her with more urgency as the hands that hadn’t moved shifted her in his lap dragged her onto him, prompting her to move like that again. Aelin did, her hands on the headboard either side of Fenrys’ head. Once she had her rhythm Fenrys let go of her, but not for long. There was a hand on her breast, the other splayed on her pack to push her closer. The man was indeed desperate for contact, only made clearer by his next request.

“Touch me, Aelin.”

She knew he didn’t mean his cock that was still inside her, there was no way in hell Aelin would be willing to with how close she was to breaking apart. Fenrys was after something softer. Her hands left the headboard, and she touched him like he wanted. Sweet caresses over his face, sweeps over his shoulders. It urged Fenrys to move his hips faster, meeting Aelin in perfect synchronisation. His lips on her neck were not what she wanted, so she angled his face to hers, kissing him fiercely. It was his heady groan on her mouth that had Aelin breaking like a wave, pleasure rushing through every nerve of her body. She nearly screamed from the force of it, they had strung it out so long that this relief was blinding and all consuming, all Aelin could do was keep moving to drag it out as long as she could.

“Fuck,” Fenrys moaned on her mouth, helping her move on him chasing his own pleasure. “Fuck me, Aelin.”

Her over sensitive inner walls felt his cock twitch and then Fenrys was groaning as he came. Aelin kept rocking, wanting to draw it out for the both of them as long as she could. It felt too good to let it fade just yet. The way Fenrys clung to her as he caught his breath was sweet, and as Aelin’s own body calmed she ran a soothing hand over his hair. He hummed contentedly, hugging Aelin tighter against him while his lips wandered aimlessly over her skin.

Aelin chuckled. “Feel better?”

“You are too good to me,” Fenrys murmured onto her skin.

For a while they just sat there, touching and waiting for the other to move. In the end it was Fenrys, kissing Aelin deeply as he lay her down before pulling out. He didn’t bother with pants and Aelin took the opportunity to admire the view. When he was gone entirely she stretched out, feeling sated but willing for more. Aelin missed him while he was away, and it wasn’t just in the bedroom, it was the conversation and companionship as well. And now that they’d had such a gratifying release of tension there was nothing to say that they couldn’t do both at the same time.

Soon enough Fenrys returned, cloth in hand, and moments later they were cleaned up and back in each other’s arms. Aelin lay on her side facing Fenrys, and he did the same, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair. She busied herself with idling tracing the scars on his chest. There were no new pale marks that marred his skin. When she ran her finger over a particularly large one low on his side Fenrys shivered.

“So I hear the Maeve and her crew have fallen into good fortune,” Aelin said.

“That would be true,” Fenrys kissed her forehead before pulling back. “Whitethorn found some maps in an abandoned cave in the Cambrian Mountains. There used to be stories of a creature in the lake that guarded them, so who knows how many years superstition won out. We’ve been more than successful.”

“Good to hear.” It was then that she noticed the blue gem stud in his earlobe. The piercing wasn’t now, Aelin hadn’t seen this earring before. She reached out to flick it. “Is that a sapphire?”

Fenrys nodded his head. “It is. Do you like it?”

Aelin shrugged, and as if she couldn’t help but be drawn to him her body inched closer. “I prefer emeralds.”

“Well,” Fenrys said, voice straining as he used his weight and a hand on her hip to urge Aelin to lie on her back. “Next time I’ll try and bring you some back. Whitethorn usually claims them all first though.”

Aelin scoffed. “Selfish bastard.”

Fenrys’ answer to that was a soft chuckle and an upward sweep of his hand over her body. Instantly Aelin's blood heated again, craving his touch and the release that would inevitably follow. Fenrys read every sign that her body was giving, propped up on an elbow as he watched her try not to writhe. His fingers had claimed the peak of her breast, teasing and pinching until it was hard. When he flicked it Aelin gasped, a hand darting out to hold him by the back of the neck. Then his mouth was on the unattended breast and Aelin gave up fighting her composure.

“You’re not ready yet,” she panted, her body bucking as need pulsed lower.

“Ah, Princess,” Fenrys said, but Aelin barely heard him. She was too focused on the hand that was travelling down her body. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun in the meantime.”

The only answer she could offer him was a deep moan as his thumb reached the apex of her thighs, drawing tight circles that were almost too much. Fenrys slowed down, and shifted so that both his hands and his mouth had something to do. When Aelin gasped as his fingers teased her entrance, Fenrys kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth. The sensations of his mouth, the hand on her breast and the other between her thighs had Aelin hurtling towards that peak of release. But Fenrys held her there right on the edge, forcing Aelin to open her eyes and look at him.

Fenrys’ dark eyes were full of so many sinful promises that there was no doubt what the rest of the evening would entail. “I made you a promise, Aelin. And I intended to keep it.”

With that declaration his fingers slipped into her, finding that spot and moments later she was unravelling and moaning her pleas to the gods. Aelin was in for a long night indeed.

Soft kisses and wandering hands woke her up the next morning. Her bedroom was barely illuminated by the morning light meaning it must be early. She usually got to sleep late into the morning due to the working hours she kept. But last night it had been Fenrys who had kept her up until the very small hours of the morning. Aelin groaned, this time not in pleasure—at least it wasn’t that way at first. When his hand brushed over her bare breast like that it was hard to maintain her indignation.

“Why are we awake?” Aelin mumbled into her pillow.

Fenrys kissed up her neck. “Still on ship's time.”

He was ready. She could feel the hardness and heat of him pressing into her back. It wasn’t a terrible way to be woken up and Aelin supposed she could sleep later. The White Stag wouldn’t open until after noon anyway. Aelin pushed back into him, but went pliant in his hands, a signal that she was willing to give him the lead this time. Fenrys all but growled, nipping at her shoulder and he urged her onto her stomach.

They were in a tangled mess of sheets and bedding, there was some manoeuvring on Fenrys’ part to free trapped limbs. Opening her eyes, Aelin found herself at the foot end of the bed. It seems they hadn’t bothered to put themselves to bed properly after their escapes the night before. Aelin had simply grabbed a pillow and fallen asleep where she was, the pillow she now tossed away as she was pressed into the mattress. Fenrys ran his hands over her body, stopping at her hips just to angle them how he wanted. The sleep haze fled, and want replaced it, causing a needy whimper to escape Aelin’s lips without her permission.

Fenrys started his trek up her body, his lips leading the way as they trailed up her spine. He brushed her knotted hair over her shoulder and continued to the newly exposed skin. Aelin could feel the heat of his body as he was braced over her now, a hand sneaking its way of the sheets to lay over one of her’s. That little gesture had Aelin smiling, remembering how demanding he had been for small affections last night. This morning was no different.

“I don’t think I’ve told you enough,” Fenrys said by her ear, making her skin pebble. “You’re stunning.”

“You don’t, I want to hear it more,” Aelin snarked back.

Fenrys snorted, making her laugh in turn. “Duly noted, Princess.”

He lined himself up, the swollen head of his cock pressing against her core. Aelin tried to push herself back to take him deeper, but Fenrys held her still, a silent demand to just wait. She did, it might have killed her a little but she did. Then Fenrys slid in with one delicious stroke. Aelin moaned the entirety of it, loving the feeling of having him inside her again.

“You are stunning,” Fenrys whispered, accentuating his words with another thrust. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Fen,” Aelin breathed. “More.”

Fenrys dropped lower, still holding most of his weight himself, and shifted so that they moved in a steady grind. It felt so good that all Aelin could do was let herself be swept away in everything he was giving.

“Stunning.” Fenrys’ breathing was getting harder, the word coming out nearly desperate.

Aelin was about to demand it harder—faster—when her bedroom door was unceremoniously thrown open, hard enough it slammed on her wall. No knocking, no nothing, there was someone else in her room. Fenrys nearly collapsed on top of her, he managed to stop himself before he crushed all the air out of her lungs. Aelin looked up, glaring and ready to spit her best obscenities at the intruder. The unexpectedness of their identity had the words catching on her tongue and her cheeks heating.

Because there, in her doorway was none other than Rowan Whitethorn.

“Shit,” Fenrys said, pushing the sheet her way so she could cover herself. He’s always been considerate like that.

Aelin was the first to recover. “I don’t remember inviting you into my home.”

Rowan ought to be commended for how intently he kept his eyes on her face. “Should have locked your door. Time to go, Moonbeam.”

“Piss off, Whitethorn.” That may have been the first time Aelin had truly heard Fenrys sound angry.

“I gave you orders,” Rowan said, arms crossing over his chest.

Aelin wished she had her pistol, or maybe the dagger in her nightstand, just something to threaten the infuriating man with. “Unless you plan to join us, get out.”

Rowan raised one of eyebrows, the tattoos on his face shifting. “You two should be so lucky.”

Gods, here they were chatting and Fenrys was still inside her.

Fenrys seemed to realise the same moment she did, discreetly separating them and using some of the messy bedding to cover himself. Keeping her eyes locked on the green ones, Aelin took a handful of sheet and held it to her chest as she slowly sat up, not caring what might or might not be covered. From the way that the cold morning air nipped at her skin, Whitethorn was getting at least a little bit of a show.

And right there, Aelin didn’t miss how his eyes finally darted down, just for one lingering moment before he spun around and marching through her living room.

“Now, Moonbeam!” He bellowed over his shoulder as hand racked through his shoulder length silver hair, making sure to slam the other door that opened to the landing as well.

There was a moment of charged silence and then Aelin giggled and fell back on the bed. Fenrys joined in, the intensity of their laughter increasing until they were both struggling to breathe. Fingers on her chin tilted her head to the side to see Fenrys’ dark eyes full of amusement.

“I am so sorry, Aelin.” His voice was still shaking.

Aelin shrugged. “I don’t suppose we could finish up?”

That sobered Fenrys up very quickly. “He’s likely to come back and drag me out naked into the street.”

“That would be quite the end to the story,” Aelin mused like she was considering it.

“You are pure trouble,” Fenrys said, tapping her nose.

Aelin laughed, taking Fenrys’ hand. “I could say the same about you.”

They both knew he had to go, but neither of them were willing to start the goodbye. In the end Fenrys got up with a heavy sigh, picked up his pants and started dressing. Aelin sat up, watching the disaster unfold in front of her. She thought they would have more time—at least today to enjoy themselves together and catch up. It wasn’t to be and it filled Aelin with a sudden feeling of loneliness.

“Hey,” Fenrys said as he tightened his belt. “I’ll be back in no time.”

Aelin nodded. “With my emerald”

With a crooked smirk Fenrys replied, “With your emerald.”

“Even if you have to fight that bastard Whitethorn for it,” Aelin pressed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Fenrys’ hands landed either side of her hips, one last brief moment of closeness. “For you it would be my honour.” He picked up his jacket off the floor, shrugging it onto his shoulders. Fully dressed there was nothing left to delay him and with one final kiss, Fenrys finally said goodbye. “Until next time, Princess.”

Aelin nodded, swallowing against the tightness building in her throat. Fenrys winked then left her room. It was at the final glance of him walking out the deep green door that she finally whispered, “Until next time.”

~~~~~

I know its not the usual but I had so much fun writing these two!

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine // @highqueenofelfhame // @3am-reading // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca // @sleep-and-books // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @sleeping-and-books // @ttakeitbacknoww // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @heroesofterrasen // @highladyofstoriesandmusic // @empire-of-wildfire // @camerooonchiu // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows // @thesirenwashere // @tswaney17 // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @flowerspringsea // @chaoticskyy // @the-regal-warrior // @fanfictrash3000 // @blueeyes425 // @starseternalnighttriumphant // @bamchickawowow // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda // @flora-and-fae // @thereaderandfangirl // @illyrian-bookworm // @chemicha // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life // @the-third-me // @1islessthan3books // @bestmelle // @cursebreaker29 // @b00kworm // @superspiritfestival // @aesthetics-11 // @maastrash // @mynewdreamwasyou // @the-last-apprentice // @charincharge // @firestarsandseneschals // @scarznstars // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships // @df3ndyr // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems // @larisssss // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7 // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10 // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77 // @jesstargaryenqueen // @anntheintrovert // @starbornvalkyrie // @loudphantomdragon // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth // @fangirlprincess09 // @maddymelv // @sierrareads // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @rowaelinismyotp // @pullnpeeltwizzlers // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction // @gracie-rosee // @elriel4life // @rowaelinrambling // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis // @swankii-art-teacher // @grandma-noob-lord // @vanzetanze // @highlady-brittney // @story-scribbler // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz // @live-the-fangirl-life // @whimsicallyreading // @goddess-aelin // @s-uppertime //

#sjmcrackshipmonth23 #fenlin #aelin x fenrys #throne of glass fanfiction #it might not be your thing but you might want to skip to the end #ohhh boy i might have created a monster here

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kopfkino-o · 10 months

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Daughter of the Summer Sea: Chapter One

Summary: They call them the Spear-Daughters of Summer and they are the fierce female warriors of the Summer Court known for their unshakeable bravery and the wicked three-pronged spears with which they fight. Having finally left the Library and more dedicated to her Valkyrie unit than ever, Gwyn finds herself charged with heading south to Adriata to learn from these infamous Spear-Daughters to expand both her fight knowledge and battle strategy, but to also seek out other Low Fae females interested in reclaiming their own power and fates by joining the Valkyrie ranks. But there is more than just sun and surf waiting for her amongst the bone-white streets of Adriata and, soon, Gwyn must ask herself: who does she want to be and where does her heart truly lay.

Pairing: Gwyn x Tarquin

Timeline: Post-ACOSF

Wordcount: 1628

Author’s Note: TARGWYN FIC LET’S GOOO! This is probably one of my most favorite crackships of all time and Adriata/Summer Court is probably my favorite Prythian setting outside of Velaris. I started working on this as a one-shot for @sjmcrackshipmonth but I have no self control and the story has since spiraled into something bigger.

Updates will come as I finish each chapter. Like my other fic, I’ll be posting this to my AO3 account for those who want to follow the story over there! You can find me at @courtwritesalot 💙

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading!

- Court

The bone-white walls of Adriata snaked along the rocky sea cliffs like the spine of a great slumbering beast.

High seashell towers and turquoise-capped parapets and buildings hewn from glimmering coral and pearl adorned the foreign city set against the backdrop of an azure sea, the sheer beauty of the Summer Court's capital evident even at this distance. Even the crowded port bustling with trading galleys from every court and continent was beautiful in its own chaotic way, the rainbow of many colored sails sliding in on the evening tide a mesmerizing sight to behold.

It was, undeniably, unlike anything Gwyneth Berdara had ever seen.

Her chest was alive with fluttering nerves, her arrival on the white sand beaches of the Summer Court long since anticipated, her journey here having been planned months ago, and yet the sight before her somehow surpassed all expectations.

Gwyn had read countless books on the Summer Court and its capital city's splendor, had studied reports and travel logs and cultural assessments until her eyes bled, but nothing could have prepared her for this. The sun and sand, the sheer size of the Summerstone Palace on its high sea cliff, the sight of the Summer Court's gold and teal banners waving lazily in the sea-salt breeze. It was almost as if the Mother herself had bestowed these lands with a kernel of her own ethereal grace.

This is what you've been missing, a familiar voice murmured in the back of her mind, as it so often did.

A stray tear slipped down Gwyn’s cheek, the lingering memory of her sister’s voice breaking the dam of emotions she’d been fighting to keep back all day.

"Forgive me," She said, blinking away the tears and wiping her eyes dry before her High Lady could see. "I never expected to feel so overwhelmed by the sight of another city."

Feyre Archeron merely smiled, understanding filling the High Lady of the Night Court’s eyes, and gently patted Gwyn’s hand, her touch warm and steadying.

"I felt the same way the first time I saw the city, too," The High Lady said softly, blue eyes drifting out across the half-moon bay. "There is nowhere else in the world quite like Adriata. And no one half as kind as Cressida and Tarquin. They'll treat you like a treasured guest throughout your entire stay."

Gwyn could only manage a nod. There was so much to be grateful for on this day. Her freedom from the Library, the weight of her sword down her back, the gesture of friendship Feyre had shown her by taking the time to winnow her all the way here. And her closest friend by her side, here to see her off.

Her eyes slid sideways, daring to tear her gaze away from the sparkling city just long enough to study Nesta’s silent form.

The General of the Valkyries had been quiet ever since Gwyn had arrived on the steps of the Riverhouse so Feyre might winnow her south. She was distant, contemplative, like there was something she wanted to say but didn’t know how.

But Gwyn didn’t need her friend to speak the words aloud for her to understand: it pained Nesta to see Gwyn go. It pained Gwyn too.

The idea of leaving Velaris had been enough to nearly cripple her and keep her locked deep beneath the House of Wind amongst the dusty shelves and quiet serenity of the Library, but every night she lay down to sleep, every night she considered abandoning the journey altogether, she could hear her sister's voice softly urging her to go.

To the sea, sister, the ghost of Catrin’s voice would whisper, You must make it to the sea.

And so, if only for the honor of her memory, if only because Catrin would never get to see these azure waters, this bone-white city, Gwyn had gone.

Feyre cleared her throat and toed the pristine white sand with the tip of a black leather boot. “There are some... friends I need to say hello to,” The High Lady said, eyes snagging on the surf crashing against the beach below. She gave Gwyn a parting smile before turning to Nesta and gently squeezing her sister’s shoulder. “Come find me when you’re ready, Nes.”

A heavy silence settled between Gwyn and Nesta as they watched the High Lady climb down the rocky face of the sea cliff, the soft murmur of the sea breeze and the distant cry of ship bells filling the space between them.

Gwyn closed her eyes and let the uncertain mix of emotions wash over her, a bittersweet taste of uncertainty and anticipation, fear and curious excitement. She would be gone from Velaris for three months, the longest stretch of time she’d ever been away from the Night Court. The only time she’d ever been away.

It unsteadied her, the thought of the great distance and long stretch between her and her home, and yet,it set something strange inside her to shimmering too.

“I’m going to miss you.”

Gwyn turned sharply towards Nesta at the sound of the softly spoken words. Her friend, her sister, was still staring out across the sea, gaze fixed on the horizon as if she might find some sort of answer hidden within its vast expanse.

"I'm going to miss you too, Nesta." Gwyn replied softly, fighting the urge to let her voice break. “And Emerie. And Azriel and Cassian, and Deirdre and Rosalin too. Mother's blessing, but I think I might even miss Merrill."

Nesta chuckled, but the lightness of the sound did not quite reach her face. "I fear they're going to fall apart without your leadership." She said, still refusing to meet Gwyn’s eye.

"I'm sure Mor will keep them in line. She’s proving to be quite the addition to our ranks. The girls will listen to her council just fine.”

"But not as well as they’d listen to you."

Gwyn's heart swelled with pride and humility at Nesta's words. The Valkyries had grown exponentially this last year under the leadership they shared with Emerie. Not solely because of them, of course, but also because of the sheer grit and determination of the women who joined in their ranks each and every day. It was half the reason why she was here, so very far from home, in the first place.

"It's only three months," Gwyn said, reaching for Nesta's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “That's hardly even a blink over the course of our immortal lives. I'll be back in Velaris before you even know to miss me. Plus, the recruiting efforts here will be good for us. We need a unit of spears if we want to truly make the Illyrians blanche.”

Nesta's warm fingers squeezed her own, so tight Gwyn nearly saw stars. "Three months," She echoed then held up her free hand, the charm on the friendship bracelet she still wore even after all these months catching in the sunlight. "No matter how far the distance, no matter how great the cost."

Gwyn's heart strained at the word of the Valkyries’ official creed.

"No matter how far the distance, no matter how great the cost," She echoed, then added the final line of their creed. “We face the mountain together, for as long as I have my sisters, no battle shall be lost.”

Then Nesta embraced her and hugged Gwyn so tight she swore she could hear her bones sing. But she didn’t care. She hugged Nesta back, breathing in the winter mourning and steel scent of her and memorizing the feel of her sister’s arms around her as their sacred words settled in her chest like an ember.

When Nesta finally pulled away, Gwyn could have sworn silver lined her friend’s blue eyes but just as quickly as it appeared the softness was replaced with the hard determination of a warrior.

A general.

“You go out there and learn and show them how a Valkyrie wields a spear,” Nesta said, command and authority filling her voice. “Show them what we are building, what we have made ourselves into. Show them what they too could be.”

Gwyn lifted three fingers to her brow in salute. “On your orders, Lady General.”

Nesta returned the gesture. “Mother guide you, Berdara.”

“And you, Archeron.”

Gwyn scooped up her pack and left her friend there on the sea cliff, fighting the tears stinging in her eyes and the urge to look back at her friend one last time as she scrambled up the rocky terrain to the road that would lead her to the gates of Adriana.

The tears came nonetheless, emotions flooding through her as she began to walk, and Gwyn began to curse herself for her insecurities one moment, then slid back into the pit of her old anxieties the next.

She had three months to learn the art of the three-pronged spear well enough to teach it to an entire unit of women. Three months to win over the Princess and Prince, bolstering not only further confidence in the fragile alliance between them and the Night Court, but also earning their permission to gather women from their court to bring into the Valkyrie ranks. The worries flowed and ebbed. She wasn’t sure she could do it. Wasn’t sure she was strong enough, wise enough, brave enough. She was one woman and a woman who’d spent most of her life hidden away from the world at that.

Then Gwyn rounded a soft bend on the Summer Road and all those worries, all those fears and uncertainties, died in her chest, a single thread unspooling as she beheld the massive golden gates of the city and Adriata waiting beyond.

To the sea, sister.

#Daughter of the Summer Sea fic #DOTSS fic #targwyn #targwyn fanfic #gwyn x tarquin #gwyneth berdara #tarquin #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar crackship month #acotar crackship #gwyn acotar #tarquin acotar #summer court #adriata #gwyn berdara

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starswhogaze · 10 months

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The idea of them lives rent-free in my mind..

@sjmcrackshipmonth

#nuala x eris #eris x nuala #shadowfire #flame and shadow if you will #mine #sjmcrackshipmonth #acotar crackship #sjmcrackshipmonth23 #starswhogaze #night court #autumn court #eris vanserra

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shallyne · 10 months

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SJM Crackshipmonth: Roommates

Feyre sat on the kitchen counter, scribbling into her notebook and singing out of tune to the song that was blaring out of their cheap twenty dollar speakers while Cassian was preparing dinner. They busy schedules took a lot of their time to do their usual shenanigans but they were never to busy to eat dinner together. Sometimes they had to wait longer for the other to come home or order a meal out, but they would not eat alone. It was one of their unspoken rules since the day they moved together. Neither Feyre nor Cassian had earned a lot, making it close to impossible to find an affordable apartment until they decided to move together, to keep down astronomical costs. What was more of an acquaintance when they moved together bloomed into a beautiful friendship. They were each other's lifelines in the four years they were living together, being there for the other when they went through tough times. Cassian was there for Feyre countless of times, a light in a dark she assumed endless. No one knew her as good as Cassian. He best friend in the entire world.

Of course, as time went by both their incomes became stable and enough for them to be able to afford their own places but neither wanted to go. They quickly slid into such a comfortable pattern of living together that they became so accustomed to it, no one wanted to break out of it. It wasn't necessary, either. They had an apartment in the city where they could reach everything by foot and their workplaces by city bus or subway.

Cassian winced when Feyre hit an especially shrill tone, whirling towards her. Their kitchen Was so small that it only took him one step, ONE, to reach her. Feyre didn't try to pay attention to his daze as he stepped in front of her, cupping her cheeks. He was tall, so tall that he reached the top of the doorframe, and broad. And so muscled that Feyre sometimes spent some moments just ogling him, keeping herself from touching said muscles. Especially his biceps that was accentuated by his form fitting athletic shirts that he always wore. She was sure that Cassian knew she was checking him out sometimes but she didn't mind because she knew for sure he was doing the same. That's what best friends do, right? It would be weird to live together for four years and not checking each other out. It's normal. Right? Yeah. Definitely.

"You know I love you, right?" he asked, still squeezing her cheeks, making it impossible to answer so she nodded once. "So you know I mean it with my best intentions but please stop singing, I don't want the neighbors to file a complaint again." he said it softly but is eyes danced with humor.

Feyre batted his hands away, giggling at the memories from a few years ago when she listened to the Mamma Mia soundtrack while showering. Apparently her neighbors didn't enjoy her singing as much as she did back then because two days later they found a letter from their landlord in the mailbox. Cassian chuckled as he, no doubt, thought back to that moment too, stepping back. That movement let his eyes wander to the notebook in Feyre's hands. She pressed it to her chest, shaking her head at him, still grinning. "Don't you dare, I'll sing again." He huffed a laugh but turned away to slice vegetables again. Maybe she imagined it but she could have sworn his eyes were fixed on her mouth for a heartbeat before he did. Ignoring the heat pooling in her lower belly, she went back to her notebook. Her sketch wasn't something incriminating, she just painted Cassian whole he cooked and she wouldn't have minded him seeing that sketch but that would have lead to questions, like, Are you drawing me often? Which the answer to was yes but she couldn't tell him that and she was a lousy liar. Actually, that wasn't right. She was a decent liar but Cassian could read her like an open book. One raised eyebrow and she folded like a weak, decade old camping chair. Because he knew her so well. Because they were best friends. Of course.

When their bell rang, Feyre hopped off the counter, putting her notebook to the side and smoothed her paint splattered denim overall, "I'll get it!" she announced, skipping through their narrow, dimly lit hallway to the front door. "Hello?" she talked into the speaker. "Who's there?" The only response was a heavy, wheezing breathing. She rolled her eyes at the neighbors kid trying to troll her. "Jurian, it's 7:30, does your mother know you're out? You're late for dinner!" It was quiet for a few heartbeats until she heard little footsteps sprinting away. Gotcha, kiddo.

"It was just Jurian trying to prank us again." Feyre said with a snort as she stepped into the kitchen, immediately stopping in her tracks as she saw Cassian leaned over her notebook. "What are you doing?" she squealed, ripping the notebook out of his hand. Her face became all hot as a flush crept over her, followed by goosebumps.

Cassian smirked his usual, insufferable, beautiful smirk. "That guy you painted a lot looks very similar to me."

Feyre shook her head. "No, you must have not looked right he does not–" his smirk turned into a grin and she groaned. "Fine, I'm spending most of my time with you, of course I'm painting you one or two times."

"One or two?" he chuckled.

Feyre flipped him off, earning a ruffle of her hair. Huffing, she tried to glare at him, unsuccessfully if that glint in his eye was any indication, "Or three."

He tilted his head, his expression turning from amused to thoughtful. "Is that all? You're drawing me because we're spending so much time together?"

Feyre's ears began ringing as her puls started racing, her heart gallopping in her chest. "I–" What was that weird feeling in her stomach? It felt like a tiny man punching her from within. Or, worse, butterflies. She shut her eyes, counting from ten down as she clutched her notebook to her chest. That's a dream because this situation is not real because if it was real it meant no matter her answer, something would change indefinitely. She knew it, deep down, she could feel it. But another thought entered her mind: if something would change either way, wasn't this the opportunity to confess her feelings? To herself and Cassian. The feelings she always shoved back, scared to jeopardize their friendship. When she opened her eyes, Cassian looked at her intently. This was supposed to be a normal dinner. Nothing more. No here they are. "Imighthavedevelopedfeelingsforyou." she rattled down.

"What?" Cassian asked his, his hazel eyes shining brighter. He must have heard her but maybe he didn't believe, as much as Feyre couldn't believe that she said it.

No turning back now, Feyre Archeron. "I might have developed feelings for you." she said slower. Cassian stared at her and heartbeats turned into endless seconds. "But it doesn't have to mean anything! If you don't feel the same, we can-"

Suddenly he gripped her arm und pulled her into his own, crashing his lips on hers. Shocked, Feyre lost grip on her notebook, letting it fall to the floor between them. It took her only a moment until she melted into Cassian's embrace, singing into the kiss. But she broke the kiss quickly, looking dumbstruck at him.

"What? Was that a mistake?" he asked. Feyre shook her head. "What then?"

Feeling his heart beating under her fingertips, she breathed "I think the pasta is overcooking."

Cassian whipped his head to the oven. "Shit!"

Taglist: @timesconvert @sjmcrackshipmonth

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #high lady of the night court #high lady feyre #feyre darling #cassian acotar #cassian #feyre × cassian #feyre x cassian #feyssian #sjmcrackshipmonth23 #sjmcrackshipmonth

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shallyne · 9 months

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SJM Crackshipmonth: What If

The Lady of Many Faces, the Truth Speaker and Death Incarnate

@sjmcrackshipmonth @escapism-z @colorlesschristmastree @edgyellie @timesconvert

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shallyne · 9 months

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SJM Crackshipmonth: What if

Lord of Bloodshed and Angel of Death

@sjmcrackshipmonth @moonfyre-s @escapism-z @disturbingly-silent @colorlesschristmastree

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sjmcrackshipmonth #sjmcrackshipmonth23 #crackshipmonth23 #crackshipmonth #cassian acotar #cassian #amren acotar #amren #lord of bloodshed #angel of death #Cassamren #Cassian x amren #Amren x cassian

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shallyne · 9 months

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SJM Crackshipmonth: Confessions

Live on Love

Day twenty of @sjmcrackshipmonth and today's pairing is: Lysandra x Aelin!

Words: 1,715

TW: mention of death

Aelin rejects Lysandra, still in mourning of her former fiancé but as the days goes by she realizes she made a mistake. Would Lysandra forgive her?

Aelin stared at her friend, her best friend. The woman who was always there for her, especially after Sam's death. The woman who was a stranger once, who became her friend and then her best friend. The woman who had never left her side, even through hard times, who had lent Aelin her ear, her clothes and who had just bared her heart to Aelin, confessing her feelings. She stared at her, at the dark brown curls that fell over shoulder, at the green blouse and the short, dark skirt she wore. Aelin looked at the red painted lips that were pressed together as she waited for an answer and the green eyes that stared right back at her. The transparency that she found in Lysandra's gaze broke something deep within Aelin and she could feel her heart crack. It wasn't like the pain that she felt when she thought about Sam. The pain wasn't worse or better, it was just wholly different and for once in her life, Aelin was utterly speechless. I have feelings for you, the words echoed in her head, again and again, I love you, more than just a friend. A ragged breath escaped Aelin as she sat up straighter and her mouth opened, in that moment Lysandra looked so hopeful that it took everything in Aelin to speak the next words, "I'm sorry" Lysandra's eyes turned glassy and she looked down quickly, but not quickly enough to hide the devastation in her eyes. Aelin wished she could tell her something else but she wasn't over Sam's death yet. It's been a little over two and a half years since the accident and Aelin couldn't take that step, she wasn't ready. Not yet. She shook her head and tried to ignore the lump in her throat. "I just– I can't." her voice cracked. Her instincts told her to grab Lysandra's hand but she didn't think her friend would want this right. "I'm sorry." Aelin whispered again.

Lysandra didn't look at her as she shook her head "Don't be, Aelin." she said quietly. "I should have known. It was a stupid idea, I don't know why I told you." she grabbed her bag and the keys she had discarded on the table. "I have to get back to the studio."

Aelin knew that wasn't true, Lysandra didn't work on Mondays. She preferred to work on weekends and take night shifts because it pays more. She followed Lysandra to the front door of Aelin's apartment. "It wasn't a stupid idea! I promise, I just- I- I can't." she hated herself for the lack of explanation, but that's all she could think of at that moment.

After Lysandra opened the front door she turned to Aelin and she tried to plaster a smile on her face, unsuccessfully. Aelin knew her the best, she could read her friend like an open book by now. Although it didn't take much to read because everyone could make out the hurt in her eyes, the hurt that threatened to undo her.

"I understand." Lysandra said. "Really, I do. I get it." she let out a breath and moved a Strand of hair out of her face. They just looked at each other for a moment until Lysandra turned on her feet and walked to the elevator. Aelin stood in the doorway, watching as she waited for the elevator, watched as she stepped in and as the door closed. Watched as Lysandra left without looking back again. It hit Aelin then and there that she didn't know when she would see Lysandra again and no matter what happened, their relationship would never be the same. She stood in her doorway a long while after Lysandra Was gone.

It took Aelin twelve days, eleven hours, thirty-seven minutes, a lot of crying and a pathetic amount of chocolate cake to realize that she had made a mistake. During her eighth re-watch of Sleepless in Seattle she realized that she did, in fact, reciprocate Lysandra's feelings. And she realized wanted to take that step with her. Aelin knows that Sam would have wanted her to move on, to find love but she was so deep in mourning that she didn't want to think about it but now, now she was thinking and imagining taking this step with Lysandra…it didn't scare her anymore. She was nervous, of course she was, but she wasn't afraid. Although, it was probably too late. Aelin had pushed her away and she wouldn't blame Lysandra if she was moving on. It must have taken her a lot to finally be bold enough to confess her love and Aelin had turned her down. That's when Aelin made a decision. She finished her chocolate cake and got ready for bed, tomorrow it was her turn to be bold.

The next day felt like it was stretching forever. To clear her head and kill some time, Aelin cleaned her apartment, went on a walk with Fleetfoot, bought groceries, showered, answered emails and called her mother. Now she was sitting in her car in the front of her apartment complex and listened to the radio station where Lysandra worked. Her heart was beating fast, especially as the song started fading. Her heart stopped when Lysandra's voice sounded through the speakers. Her phone was trembling as she dialed the number that Lysandra was announcing.

Aelin wasn't the first to call, the first was a lady who needed Lysandra's advice on what she should do if her boyfriend has a cat hair allergy but she's not ready to give up her cat. She turned down the volume of the radio as another lady's voice sounded on the other end of the line. If the voice was any indication, the woman must be around her forties.

"Hello," Aelin replied to her, voice trembling. "I'm calling for relationship advice from Lysandra."

"What's your name?" the woman asked, sounding unbothered and happy. Aelin envied her because she was a nervous wreck.

She bit on her nail and answered after a short moment "Ally. My name is Ally."

"Alright, sweetheart. There are a few callers before you, after a break of two songs it's your turn. Don't hang up the phone, if you do that the next caller gets your place. Okay?"

The wait would probably kill Aelin before she had any chance to talk to Lysandra but she replied "Okay, understood." either way.

"Perfect!" the ladies said and put her into a waiting line.

Aelin's knee bounced up and down nervously as she waited and listened to the other callers. One lady asked Lysandra for advice about her boyfriend who had just cheated on her for the third time and then a husband whose wife was mad at him and he didn't know what he did wrong. Aelin listened to everything, admiring how calm Lysandra stays through it all, admiring her patience. Aelin Was so deep in thought that she didn't realize the second song came to an end, almost missing the voice of the woman she talked to earlier.

"Ally, are you still there?"

Aelin sat straight up, almost banging her head on the roof of her car. "Yes, yes I'm still here." she said, her heartbeat quickening as the woman on the other end said "You're next, sweetheart."

Aelin wanted to thank her but she was already gone, instead she heard Lysandra's voice, announcing, "Next up we have Ally! Are you there, Ally? How can I help you?"

Aelin had to find her voice for a moment until she said "Hello! Hey Lysandra, I need your advice."

Lysandra was silent for a second, either she recognized Aelins voice or she waited for Aelin to continue. "Of course, tell me. What do you need advice for?"

Aelin took a deep breath, ignoring the knot in her stomach as she told her "I made a mistake. A mistake I regret so, so much." she swallowed. "My friend confessed her love to me, two weeks ago. My previous relationship… I don't need to go into detail but it left my heart in shambles and I told her I am not ready for a relationship, I was convinced I wasn't ready."

Lysandra was silent for a few heartbeats and Aelin could have sworn she heard her swallow. "I am sure you had your reason, Ally. And I am sure your friend understands. Don't throw yourself into something that you're not ready for."

"That's it, that's the problem," Aelin explained. "I built a wall around myself, afraid that I could get hurt again but when she left," Aelin shook her head, tears falling down her cheek. "The regret hit me like a blow. I realized that I am ready to move forward and imagining her at my side, I am not afraid anymore. I want her at my side."

"You should tell her that." Lysandra only replied.

"I'm afraid it's too late." Aelin admitted. "I'm afraid she moved on and I am history, I'm afraid I ruined it when I rejected her."

"She's your friend, isn't she?"

"My best friend, I love her more than anything."

Lysandra let out a small, broken laugh. "I'm sure she did not move on and she'd be more than ready to hear you out."

"You think so?" Aelin's voice cracked.

"I do." she replied.

"Thank you. Lys." Aelin said, wiping her tears away with her sleeve.

"You're welcome, Ally." Lysandra said softly. Then the line was dead.

It didn't take Aelin long to decide her next step. It felt all so fast that Aelin was surprised an hour went by from the moment she started the motor to the moment where she stood in the parking lot at the studio where Lysandra worked. Another twenty minutes went by until it was time for Lysandra's break and five minutes later, she walked out the door. She looked over the parking lot until her green eyes met Aelin's and to her relief, they softened.

Slowly she walked toward her friend and when she stopped in front of her, Lysandra smiled at Aelin. "Hey Ally."

Tears started flowing again and Aelin laughed, "Hey Lys," she said. Lys smiled brighter, which made something in Aelin snap as she took her face in her hands and kissed her.

Taglist: @timesconvert

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