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obliviouscxnt · 4 months

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Control Azriel x Reader

a/n: I'm so lost, i don't know what I'm doing. Still learning how to use tumblr but in the meantime, welcome to the first fic i feel like posting.

synopsis: feyre's growing curiosity about you sparks some personal questions.

Warnings: mentioned SA, fluff, hints of sexual activities

pt.2 | pt.3

One of the first friends Feyre made in the Night Court was you. You reminded her of the twin wraiths in a way. Never saying much, if anything at all. Maybe that was one of the reasons she liked you so much.

You didn’t need to talk to enjoy each other’s presence. Feyre had as much fun sitting in silence with you as she did on a night out with Mor.

But as time passed, as Feyre became a constant in the Night Court, she had grown curious. She wanted to know more about you like she did the others.

So she started asking you questions, and to her surprise, you would answer her. Your answers weren’t clipped, or vague. You never sounded annoyed with her, you were completely open and honest with her.

“How long have you known everyone?” Feyre had asked while you gently played with her hair, her scalp tingling at your touch.

You thought about it for a moment. “Over two hundred years now.”

She tilts her head, so apart from her you were the newest member of the inner circle. “How did you meet?” She asks, shivering as the tingles travel down her spine.

You start braiding a few small strands from the front of her face as you speak. “My kind are far different from other Fae.” Feyre practically perks up at the words. She knew you weren’t high fae but she never bothered saying anything about it, she barely even noticed it most of the time not nearly enough to warrant a discussion. “They hail from no court, and bow to no lord, not even the Mother is with their thoughts.”

Feyre tried to imagine what that would be like, how they would act, what traditions they’d carry. She thought of your features, the ones that stood out among other high fae. Your ears didn’t point, your nails were like claws, and your teeth bore long sharp canines on both the top and bottom of your mouth, but the features that stood out the most were the ones you kept hidden.

Feyre saw them once, your wings. The first time she met you. Like they were just there for a formal introduction. They were big, beautiful, and intricate. They looked like moth wings, and fluttered like them too. Opening and closing slowly when you were lax.

Immediately when Feyre saw them, she felt like painting again, she could barely keep her eyes off them, barely keep herself from reaching out a hand to touch them. Maybe that was the reason for their absence in the next visit; all that remained of the glorious appendages was precise ink that lined the whole of your back, a tattoo of folded wings.

From the way they folded, they almost formed a natural cape. She wondered how far your tattoo ran, the extravagant fabrics of the dresses you wore only showed so much.

She pictured a whole colony of people that looked like you and immediately felt like painting again.

“It’s why nobody can do anything about their backward ways, they listen to nobody but themselves. Believe no one but themselves.” All preconceived thoughts of your people turn sour with your words.

“The things they’ve done, they still do…” You release a shaky breath as you finish the small braids and set them aside.

Feyre turns to look at you when your delicate hands part with her hair. She finds you sorting through a box of hair ornaments, but your eyes are clouded. Not even the most glorious of diamonds could shine through that fog. “You don’t have to...“

You blink out of your daze and wave her off as you pull out a few gem-encrusted pins and show them to her. Waiting for her to give you a nod of approval before pulling out a stunning bejeweled silver comb and repeating the same process. Your collection was truly marvelous.

“When I was saved, it was my first Flowering Night.” You spoke the words with barely concealed bitterness. “A night where all mature unpaired females are sent into the woods for any participating males to hunt down and take as they please.”

You tuck back the small braids with the sparkling pins. Feyre listened as you continued, she wanted to say something but what would she say?

“No one could run very far from our community, the woods of the Middle hold no mercy. It was either hide and hope you make it till dawn without being spotted by a male. Or die to the other horrid creatures that live in those woods.”

Feyre’s heart ached for you, her sorrow a tangible thing able to be smelt in the air. And you squeezed her shoulder, you comforted her. Her sorrow only increased. You never deserved any of it.

“I chose the latter.” You carefully place the comb into her hair, finding it in yourself to smile at the final product. You still fiddle with a few strands until you feel pleased. “A close encounter with death led to the discovery of my gift,”

Dreamwalker, Rhys had called you. An ability so rare even Helion’s exquisite library had very little information on it.

Feyre loosely understood that you could enter another person's dream. Could manipulate it as you wish, to serenity or to a blood-curdling nightmare. But what made you so powerful, what made you such a valuable asset to the Night Court was your ability to bring dreams to life. All manner of dreams.

However, your ability was sparsely used for court matters, and only necessary people knew of it. You were their trump card. Something nobody would see coming.

Feyre would never forget the time you had a nightmare, sending half the court in preparation for battle. She’d also never forget the way Azriel had fought off the nightmare incarnate to get to you. How he charged forward without an ounce of hesitation. While Rhys had stood protectively in front of Feyre, and Cassian’s siphons flared from beside her, providing a shield around them.

Feyre had realized then that Azriel would go to hell and back for you.

Feyre turns to face you, to look you in your enchanting eyes now that you are finished playing with her hair. “I was barely a woman, I didn’t know the first thing about defending myself. I didn’t know what this gift was.” She watched you raise a hand, small stars forming and trailing your fingers, blinking and shimmering as you played with them. “What good is a gift this powerful if you don’t know what to do with it? It’s as good as a broken blade.”

Feyre’s breath leaves her body when you pull down the shoulder of your elegant emerald gown, revealing a long jagged scar running diagonally across your chest. The skin puffed up from how deep the gash was. “I would’ve died if it weren’t for Azriel.”

The high fae’s eyebrows raise ever so slightly.

“He heard me screaming. And he came for me.” You pull the shoulder back up and smile. Actually, smile. Feyre had never known someone like you, someone able to flip such a horrid memory around. Someone so able to pick out the good amongst the bad. “It wasn’t until a century later that I finally accepted his invitation to the Night Court and met everyone else.”

Feyre found herself grabbing your hand and squeezing. So grateful you had accepted his invitation.

You squeeze back.

“You’re so strong.” Feyre says, furrowing her brows when you laugh like she had told a joke.

“It wasn’t strength that led me here, Feyre.” You tell her. Once again she wanted to paint you, but she felt like she wouldn’t be able to do you justice. “It was fate.”

A knock sounds at the door.

“Come in.” Feyre calls and you both look to the opening door. Two incredibly attractive Illyrian men stand at the doorway.

Rhys smiles at the sight of you two, eyes raking over the hairstyle you’d given Feyre. “You look lovely, Feyre darling.” Her face heats as you smile in triumph.

“Say goodnight.” Comes Azriel’s voice in that tone he only used on you.

You obey his command without a second thought, giving Feyre a light hug and giving Rhys a small bow before scurrying toward Azriel’s waiting arm.

You fall into step with him as his hand lands on your lower back. But before the two of you could disappear you tug on his shirt, prompting him to stop only long enough for you to turn back toward Feyre and say a final goodnight. “Dream well Feyre!” Then he continued leading you away to your shared chambers.

The mated pair watch you two travel away. Rhys with a look of content for you and his brother. Feyre with a new curiosity.

She couldn’t help but be curious about the dynamic you and Azriel had. The way that dynamic bled into the interactions you had with your friends. How you always asked for permission before doing something and always jumped up whenever anyone asked you to do something. Rhys seemed to catch on to that curiosity.

He decided to save you the embarrassment of Feyre asking you herself. He had enough of an understanding of you to know when something would make you uncomfortable, no matter how much you said otherwise.

You’d always answer any questions asked of you openly and honestly, whether you wanted to or not. It was one of the reasons many were at first against your visits with Feyre, himself included. The newly turned fae was far too oblivious to your situation to recognize when she was taking advantage of your obedience. But you assured Rhysand repeatedly that Feyre never bothered you with her questions. That you enjoyed her presence just as much as she, hopefully, enjoyed yours.

Much to everyone’s delight, Feyre regarded you with gentleness and awe from the very start. It was the effect you had on people. It was the reason Azriel didn’t put up a fight about leaving your visits unsupervised.

“[name] was raised by cruel people, they taught her that in a relationship the male's word is law. Her people think a female is expected to give up any and all control to her male. It’s one of the few things she never was able to condition herself out of, Azriel helps her by providing that control she needs.”

Feyre thinks about that, face heating at the images it created. She wondered what that would be like, to surrender herself completely. “So if he told her to jump off the nearest bridge…?”

“She’d do it, with zero hesitation.”

Rhys smirks, knowing glint in his eyes as his gaze runs over the blush that coated her face.

“But he’d never ask something like that of her. He knows her inside out, knows when something is too much or not enough.” He steps closer to her, delighting in the way her breathing picks up. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think your interest in this topic was more than innocent curiosity.”

“Well, do you?” Feyre asks, making his eyes narrow. “Know any better?”

Rhys’s gaze becomes dark. “Nope.”

****

“Did you enjoy your time with Feyre?” You sigh at his voice, the comfort it brings you. You find yourself leaning into him, and he allows it.

“It was nice.” You say truly. It felt like it was easier to breathe now that Feyre had more of an understanding. “She asked about how we met.”

The hand on your back pulls you closer to him as if he were remembering that day. Remembering what you looked like as that hideous creature held you down, slicing into you. The way you flinched away from him after he’d slayed the creature. The sheer dress that you wore, If it could even be called that. He could still picture everything so vividly.

How you eventually submitted to him, and how that made him sick. How he carried you out of the Middle and into the lands of the Night Court, never taking you into the cities. How for the next century after that he would visit you at the little private cabin only he and his brothers knew about, how he took care of you, and how he grew to love you. How you grew to love him in return.

He shoves those thoughts into the back of his mind as he opens the door to your shared chambers, walking you inside before shutting the door behind you.

His hands move to your shoulders while he guides you to sit on the edge of the large bed, big enough to fit at least three winged beings. Hands brushing down your body as he kneels before you, settling on your ankle. He brings your foot up and rests it on his thigh before slowly unraveling the straps of your heel. Once finished he continued with the right heel, his touch nothing but confident from years and years of practice.

A hand pats your thigh, letting you know he’s finished. Your eyes trail him as he heads toward the bathroom, you’d be happy to just look at him for the rest of your immortal life.

You help Azriel, though he had no problem doing it for you, by taking off your jewelry one by one, setting each extravagant piece on the nightstand. By the time you're done Azriel’s waiting for you next to a full bath.

“Come.” He beckons from beside the large clawfoot tub. Hand outstretched and waiting for you.

You saunter toward him, sighing as you let your brain just rest. Let him do everything for you.

His hands are strong, and gentle, and secure all in one as they guide you out of your gown, his clothes following not long after. You sigh as he brings you into the tub. Positioning you so you sat between his legs, back to his front.

Your eyelids slowly fall shut, coaxed by his soothing touch. Feeling nothing but content when he pushed your head back to lay on his shoulder, a gentle kiss pressed against your temple.

You were soon in a state of barely there, just teetering on the side of sleep but awake enough to move when he told you to.

“Lean forward.”

His hands rub up and down your back, cleaning and massaging the skin there. You shudder in pleasure and he hums soothingly. Like cooing at a pet. You straighten up a bit when he taps the marked skin a few times, moving forward just enough for your wings to slowly peel away from your back. What was once ink on your skin, now real moving wings.

“Spread.” And you do so, wings unfolding and stretching out completely.

You shiver as his hands brush against them, making them twitch both away and toward him. As if they couldn’t decide whether the feeling it brought you was too much or not enough.

As always Azriel handled them with utmost care, humming when small noises of pleasure escaped you. When he was finished he tapped your shoulder to let you know, but you were too tired to summon the magic needed to conceal them.

Though, not tired enough to remember it was his turn.

Slowly with lethargic movements, you turn to face him. Wings folding up again, forming a natural cape on your back. “Can I-“ You begin but catch yourself before you can finish. His narrowed eyes crinkled into a smile. Happy he no longer had to remind you of such a simple fact.

Don’t ask to touch what is yours.

So instead you reach for the soap in his hands and begin to wash him. Taking satisfaction in the way his wound-up muscles, tense from hours of work, relaxed under your touch. The way his hands rested on your hips, squeezing every now and then appreciatively. The hums that left his mouth, no longer with the intent to soothe you but to let you know how pleased you made him.

Your touches became increasingly distracted, sleep slowly leaving your system as your mind filled with nothing but him.

He smirks, a mix of amusement and attraction. Allowing his own touches to become less innocent. His hands move to wrap around your wrists, dragging your hands down, down, and down his body. Soap long ago discarded.

“Touch me.” He commands.

And nothing could keep you from satisfying him.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron

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readychilledwine · 1 month

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Hi! I love your writing, it always makes me grin. Could I request a platonic Az fic? One where reader is like 10, super cuddly and touch affection starved and Feyre’s ward (kind of like Evangeline is to Lyssandra), and maybe like the kid or sister of one of the children of the blessed that was sent over the wall but feyre found her and took her in even though Tamlin didn’t like it, so when Mor took Feyre, she had to take reader too, and then during that dinner, she gets scared to meet everyone (especially cass sine he seems intimidating) so she runs behind the nearest person, Az and when he doesn’t get upset, she sticks with him through the dinner, wanting to be next to him, hiding behind his wings, asking for cuddles, and playing with his hands. He doesn’t get upset and reader just decides to follow him like a shadow from then in and make him her fave person, like watching when he train, being sad and quiet when he’s gone (until Nuella and Cereadwin bring her sweets), happy when he’s back, and never leaving his side, and even asking him to carry her etc.

Oath

Warnings - platonic soul mates, mentions of Amarantha and UTM, visions

A/N - I'm not saying I am tucking this away for a rainy day, but I'm not not saying that 👀

Azriel Masterlist

You didn't even have to ask or knock. The door opened, and shadows pulled you in. Guiding you to Azriel in the dark as he opened up his blanket and pulled you up to his bed and into his arms. "Nightmares?" He murmured softly into your hair, holding you close. "It's okay, little one. We all have them." You curled into him, basking in the warmth and protection he offered. His wing rested over you, feeling like a blanket weighing down like a tight hug. "Tell me what you saw?"

You started softly. "A robed figure with swans. But this time, it was like.." You paused, wiping tears from your eyes. "It was like I was a swan. You were on the waterline of the lake, yelling for me."

Azriel went stiff, then pulled you closer to him. "No one is going to take you from me. From us. You are ours to look after."

And you had been since you arrived in the Night Court. You had been ripped from the mortal realm with Feyre by Tamlin. Feyre had taken you in, despite arguments from her sisters, when she found you starving in the streets. You became hers, and she yours. She was closest thing you had ever had to a sister, and her regret the moment you were caught following her Under the Moutain was something she struggled to live with to this day.

Amarantha had taken a liking to you, though. You were a tender human girl she enjoyed using as a personal servant. She kept you at her side, almost always glowing with how much you admired the fae, how you were raised to be complicit to them by the Children of the Blessed. You complimented her constantly, adoring her dresses, her hair, her glowing skin. You had no idea she was so evil. So cruel. That was until Feyre's first trial.

It was Rhysand who pulled you into his room one night, sheltering you from the violence going on. He had whispered to you tales of a city covered in starlight and a family. A family that all found each other, chose each other, loved each other. He had worked you into the bargain with Feyre, ensuring he had you for one week every month, ensuring you were away from Tamlin, who, for unknown reasons, hated you.

When you first came to the Night Court, Rhys spent the week with you, teaching you to read and write more gently than he had Feyre, teaching you the different courts, the different high lords. He had put you in dresses that made his eyes sparkle but grow distant with longing. He had called you his little second chance, and on that second visit, you were sold. You loved Rhysand so fully that you had clinged to him, crying as Tamlin ripped you from his arms.

When Tamlin locked you and Feyre in the manor, it had been the scariest moment of your life. You were still mortal, but the power radiating from her, consuming her as she pulled you into her chest for comfort, was terrifying. She had told you the Night Court would be your home now once she had calmed down, and the decision was made to have dinner with Rhysand's family. Mor had taken you, winnowing you two in and letting you enjoy that drop, that rush of free falling. Everything had been fine until you saw Cassian.

Cassian was loud, he was huge, he had muscles in places you hardly knew could have muscles. You had ended up hiding, much to Cassian's amusement, behind the closest thing you could. Azriel.

And it had begun after that. Azriel became your best friend. You constantly looked for him, snuggled him, loved him. He became your everything and you his. You made him carry you everywhere, take you flying, and made him laugh with you under blanket forts.

On your 9th birthday, he had taken you into town, spoiling you before the war with Hybern begun with pastries, books, new dresses, and a stuffed animal. It was the same day Velaris was attacked. You had been taken from him, locked into a cell with Nesta, who held you close, whispering how it would be okay. You were forced into that same Cauldron as Feyre screamed, held back by Rhysand as the male pleaded for the King to let you go.

Azriel had promised you from that day forward you were his, swearing it to you in an oath that you two sealed with a pinky promise. He promised to protect you. To keep you safe. To make sure anyone who harmed you would regret it. But even Azriel, as powerful as he was, could not save you from the aftermath of the Cauldron.

1 week after your 10th birthday, weird things started happening to you. You had dreams where you saw things. Similar to Elain. Her visions came out in riddles, though. Yours were different. Odd to Rhys and Amren. Odd to Helion. Your powers were similar to a seer, yet so different.

Helion had described it as you walking through timelines. You could see all outcomes with no direction of how that outcome would come to be, whereas Elain saw one possible future and potential riddles guiding to it. "A burden," he had said to Rhysand quietly. "A burden to know each way someone you loved could die, to know what happens if one pawn doesn't move exactly according to plan, but not be able to tell them how exactly it happened."

You had fallen into yourself more, seeking only Azriel with Feyre's pregnancy and Nesta's spiral. You only told him what you saw in your dreams and occasionally the twins if he would send them to you with treats.

He pulled you close again, shaking you from the past. "What else did you see?"

"Elain," you whispered softly. "Lucien holding Elain tightly while she laid on the ground. She no longer glowed with the light of the fae. It was like the cloaked figure had taken it from her."

The grip on your nightgown grew tight. "What else?" His voice was tense, eyes getting slightly distant, letting you know he was communicating with Rhys that you had seen something.

"Rhys had facial hair." Azriel hummed. Unknown to you that you had just given him an idea of the timeline. It would have had to have been after the birth of babe. Rhys only grew facial hair when he was tired. "Feyre and Nesta weren't there. Just Lucien, Elain, the three of you, and I think me."

"As a swan," he repeated.

"Yes, as a swan. Trapped on his lake."

"Do you know how old you were when this happened?"

You shrugged. "No, but we had a string. It wasn't gold and glittering like Rhys and Feyre's, but red and power seemed to flow through it, not emotions. It felt like I was transferring something to you."

Azriel kissed the top of your head. "You know I need to tell Rhys about this?" You nodded. "And you know he may need you to show him?" You nodded again, but shivered at the thought of Rhysand in your mind. "We should also mention the red string to Amren. She what she can dig up."

"But she's so cranky." Hazel eyes, tired and heavy with sleep, peered down at you. "New Amren is way more mean than old Amren."

"A problem for tomorrow. Go to sleep, y/n. I'll keep your nightmares away."

"I love you, Azzie."

"I love you too, y/n. I won't let you turn into a swan."

You were asleep almost instantly, body back on that lake, and a cloaked figure with a bone like figure stroking your wings.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

#acotar #send asks #send anons #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel x platonic!reader

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thehighladywrites · 3 months

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— “I got you, darling…”

pairing: rhysand x reader

summary: rhys taking care of his girl during her period

warnings: suggestiveness, sweet and perfect rhys

amara’s note: this is for you anon!! i saw your ask and had to make a comfort fic for you💗🫶🏼 i hope u enjoy babes, and feel better!! periods can be a bitch

Agony. Pure, fucking agony.

You felt nauseous and broke out in cold sweats. These fae cycles weren’t a joke at all. While it was nice that they only happened twice a year, it still meant enduring twice a year of writhing in pain.

Downstairs, Rhys was cooking up some simple, gentle food to ease your discomfort and provide nourishment.

He had planned ahead a few days ago, knowing your period was approaching, and made sure everything was set up to make it easier for you.

Rhys quietly climbed the stairs with a simple plate of food in hand. As he entered the bedroom, his heart sank at the sight of you curled up on the bed, tears glistening in your eyes.

Setting the tray down on the bedside table, he crossed the room in quick strides and sat down beside you, gathering you into his arms. “I'm here, love,” he murmured softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I've brought you something to eat. It's gentle on your stomach.”

Rhys gently wipes away your tears as you express your gratitude, but you protest that you're too tired to eat. With a soft smile, he reassures you, “I wasn't planning on making you eat it yourself. I'll feed you.”

He tenderly lifts your head and supports it with one hand, while using the other to scoop up a small bite of food. With all the care in the world, he brings the spoon to your lips, offering you nourishment and comfort in this moment of pain.

Rhys takes a cloth and gently pats your forehead, soothing away the sweat. He leans in to press a tender kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “Good girl,” in a soft, reassuring tone.

He handed you a small vial of pain medicine to lessen the intense cramps and stroke your hair.

With each gesture, he shows his love and support, offering comfort during your time of need.

You sheepishly admit about needing to change your underwear due to bleeding through. “I have to change, I’ve bleed through.” you murmur softly.

Without a word, Rhys lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. There, he has magically prepared a heated bath, and as you sink into the warm water, you let out a groan of pleasure.

“Oh, thank you, baby. This feels amazing.” you whisper gratefully, the soothing heat easing your discomfort and bringing you a moment of relief.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Rhys kneels beside the tub, gently massaging your shoulders, arms, and hands with expert care. As he works, he tenderly washes your hair, his touch gentle and comforting.

After you've soaked in the tub for a while, letting the warm water ease your tense muscles, Rhys helps you stand up and dries your body. Then, he hands you a fresh product, some underwear and shorts and one of his comfortable shirts to wear. With a tender kiss on your cheek, he lays you down on the bed before heading out to grab some vials of almond oil.

When he returns, he sits on the edge of the bed and lifts your legs and thighs onto his lap. He pops open the vial and pours some oil into his palm, heating it up before massaging it into your skin with gentle, soothing movements. Rhys massages your legs, things, lower stomach, using magic to heat up his palms.

“Gods, that feels so good, what did I do to deserve you?”

Rhys chuckles softly before leaning in close. “You deserve every bit of it,” he murmurs, his gaze warm and affectionate. “You’re my everything, and taking care of you is the least I can do for you.”

After the incredible massage, Rhys cleans up and then slips under the sheets beside you. He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around you, and he starts massaging your lower back without even realizing it. It's a simple gesture, but you feel loved and cared for.

He looks down at you, showering your face with kisses until you're giggling.

“Darling, guess what I heard helps with cramps,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, knowing exactly what he's hinting at. “Thanks, savior, but I think I'd rather suffer. You can definitely 'help' me after my cycle is over.”

“I'm here if you change your mind, just saying,” he replies with a playful grin. “I'll have you feeling wickedly nice in no time.”

“I’m sure you would, handsome.”

He pulls you in closer, cheat rumbling with a chuckle and as you nestle against him, you feel yourself relaxing. The pain starts to ease, and with Rhys by your side, you drift off into a restful sleep, feeling better than before.

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shinyspooks · 4 months

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literally and non-literally

so. i'm literally obsessed with @zillychu 's fire core au. so i HAD to write this.

note: i imagine this happens sometime between danny actually starting to talk to them and them finding out about the halfa thing- so like, really early bonding/flirting stage?? you'll get what i mean

Warnings: blood mention, Danny kills a ghost off screen. + said ghost's arm gets torn off. this fic is comedy though i promise

Word Count: 1k

Read on AO3

This had been a bad idea.

That was all that Tucker could think, as he and Sam stood under the cover of a nearby half-destroyed building, watching as Phantom beat another ghost to a pulp.

Neither of them had seen the other ghost before, and it seemed that they likely never would again, if the way Phantom was tearing into them was any indication.

Literally, tearing into them, it seemed, as Phantom fiercly bit down on the other’s arm and ripped it clean off, blood splattering down to the pavement, followed by the ghost’s body, slamming down with such force that it made the ground tremble. When the dust settled, the ectoplasmic body didn’t so much as twitch.

“Wow.” Sam said, interrupting the unsettling silence, “That was kinda hot.”

Phantom, arm still in his mouth, turned around with a look filled with so much abject horror that if this was any other situation Tucker would’ve laughed.

Letting the arm drop from his mouth to fall to rest on top of it’s original body, Phantom joined Sam and Tucker on the ground. Well. Sorta on the ground. He got closer to the ground. But he remained floating, as usual.

“Ah-” Sam interrupted him before he could speak, “You’ve got a little-”

She reached forwards, towards Phantom’s face, and he instantly floated several feet back, letting out a hiss. Sam froze, before letting her arm drop to her side.

“Right, no touching.” She said, “But, uh, you’ve got some blood- or, ecto, on your face.”

Phantom almost seemed to hesitate for a second, before using his fist to try and wipe the ecto-blood off his cheek. He didn’t do much other than smear it a little, but both Sam and Tucker decided to not mention it. Phantom floated a bit closer again with a small sigh.

“I hope,” He started, “That when you said hot, before, thatit’s in reference to the literal heat, cause otherwise…”

“Otherwise…?” Sam tilted her head to the side with a smirk. Tucker silently shook his head at her, but she ignored him.

“Because otherwise, you’re a lot crazier than I thought.” Phantom said, crossing his arms with a huff. If anything, Sam’s smirk grew wider at that.

“Hi, I’m Sam, and I’m a lot crazier than you thought I was.” She said, linking her arm around Tucker’s and dragging him in closer to her. “This is Tucker, he’s also a lot crazier than you thought he was. May I know your name?”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Tucker muttered, and Sam lightly kicked his shin, making him sharply inhale. Phantom slow-blinked at them both. Truthfully, they didn’t really need him to tell them his name, they both had a pretty solid guess that he was, maybe, perhaps, the Phantom, but he didn’t need to know that. Besides, when it came to somewhat eldritch or fae-like beings, there were whole things around names, so it was best to give the matter some form of caution.

(And even if it wasn’t a fae-name kind of situation, the fact Phantom had not willingly gave them a name to call him by at this point did imply that they should treat the matter with some delicacy).

“…Nice try.” He said, “It’s not something you need to know, though.”

“Hm, maybe we should try giving you a name then…” Sam trailed off, thinking. Tucker let out a defeated sigh, immediately realizing that she was about to throw their previous caution and delicacy around Phantom’s name away entirely. Phantom looked almost confused, and slightly angry, like she hadn’t gotten his point, but couldn’t even say a word before she was speaking again. “Ah, I know. We’ll call you Casper.”

Phantom slow-blinked again, now very obviously confused.

“You’re choosing, of all things, to name me after the old high-school?” He asked. Now it was Sam and Tucker’s turn to look at him in confusion.

“No?? I- Oh, wait.” The realization seemed to hit them both at once. “You wouldn’t have seen that movie, would you?”

“Movie?”

“Casper, the Friendly Ghost.” Tucker elaborated. Phantom seemed to bristle.

“Ghosts are not friendly.” He said. Sam and Tucker both shared a look that made him glower at the both of them. “Seriously. Ghost’s aren’t friendl- wait, hold on. If you’re naming me- you think I’m friendly?!”

The silence that followed seemed to be response enough for him.

“I’m not friendly. I- you both aren’t just crazy. You’re insane.” Phantom said. Sam seemed to consider something for a moment.

“Hmm… You know, you’re pretty cute too, Casper.” She said, and Phantom sputtered, suddenly dropping to stand on the ground.

“Cute?!”

“Ah-” Tucker suddenly felt the need to maybe do some damage control. Phantom was already a threat enough without a damaged pride. “Of course, you’re very, uh, scary and powerful-”

“In a hot way though.” Sam interjected, “In a non-literal hot way.”

“Sam!” Tucker had to admit that she was objectively correct, but- “You can’t just say things like that-”

“You know I’m right. He’s hot. Both literally and non-literally.” As she said so, she gestured at Phantom, who had taken to staring very pointedly at the ground. Was it just Tucker’s imagination, or was his face turning a little green-

Phantom’s fists suddenly clenched, and when he looked up at them again, it was with a glare in his eyes, the edges of his hair slowly growing more smokey than its usual state.

“Get out of my town.” He hissed, eyes flashing a brighter shade of green. Ah. It seemed they had reached Phantom’s idiocy limit for the day.

Not wasting any time, Tucker flipped Sam’s grip on his arm so that he was the one holding on to her, turned, and started to drag her away at a rather speedy pace.

“Aw c’mon, I was only messing around!!” Sam complained, but still allowed herself to be dragged. From some distance behind them, Phantom tsked.

“Keep playing around like that and you’ll get burned.” He muttered, quietly, but not quietly enough for them to not overhear.

“Was that a pun? Wait- Tucker, the ghost knows puns-” Sam said, planting her feet into the ground. It was enough to give Tucker pause as well, turning around-

Phantom had already vanished.

“He knows puns, Tucker.” Sam continued, “Tucker. We’ve got to bring the joke book next time.”

#Danny Phantom #Fire Core AU #my writing #zillychu if you see this i need you to know i havent written in like 5 months #and this is the fic that finally got me writing again #so thank you for this incredible au #Everlasting Trio

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rubberbisquitfic · 9 months

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Fae Touched (4/?)

Chapter Four is live :) Thank you everyone for your patience!

#fae touched fic

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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year

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Midsummer nights madness.

Yandere!Fae x Gn!eader (Inspired heavily by fairies from Midsummer Nighs Dream).

Minors dni

Warnings: Suggestive content; manipulation; magic; mythical beings; intoxication; drugging?; coercion; and one very clingy boy.

A/N: Was in a Shakespeare mood and fell in love with Puck, also known as Robin Goodfellow; from Midsummer Nights Dream. Thus, I tried this fic out. Please enjoy!

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Brown, fallen leaves crunched under foot, the sun setting slowly just beyond the forest's dense canopy. Skipping down the muddied, beaten path is you, a simple peasant on a delivery run for the local apothecary. Your mother, a hermit widow and herbalist, was known in the county for her incredibly potent herbs, and her garden was unmatched. Despite how the people revered her work, she was never a social woman. Lately, she had become rather ill, and while she was at home curing herself, her deliveries still had to be made. Though it caused her great grief, though you were unsure why, she gave into your pleading to let you make the delivery.

"But mother, I'm perfectly capable of a small trip through the woods!" You had exclaimed. She only shook her head weakly, waving you away with her hand as she moved to grab the wicker basket of roots and plants. However, her ill state only becomes more evident when she suddenly collapses on the dirt floor of the hut. "Mother!" You cried, helping her trembling form stand. Walking her to her bed, she sits down, and sighs. "Mother, you're in no condition to deliver the herbs, please, allow me to go in your place!" You begged had begged. Begrudgingly, she had allowed you to take the ingredients, but not before slipping a small, worn scroll into your palm. "Remember the rules, my dear. The woods are not safe for anyone, much less someone alone, at the mercy of the night...". She had warned you off the usual dangers, wolves, bears, and thieves, but these simple natural occurrences did not seem to be what worried her most. The scrolls instructions were simple, and went as follows.

'Rule one, to prevent most danger, continue the path and speak to no stranger.

Rule two, if talking is their aim, always remember to not give your name.

Rule three, even if kindness they exude, from a stranger, never takes food.

Finally, rule four, if danger is discerned, touch them with iron, allow them to burn...'

While you must admit you weren't entirely sure about the Iron part, the other rules made sense. It was always best to avoid conversing with strangers in the woods. After having gotten a string of leather from your mother, one which she hung a ring of iron on, you had set off, leading to where you were in the woods now.

You sigh, taking in the fresh air of the forest around you. Being stuck at the cottage all day, allowed to walk no further than the garden, you didn't get too many opportunities to take in the beauty of nature. While initially you had been anxious about the woods, due to mothers warnings, they seemed rather peaceful. The sounds of a nearby stream paired with the gentle breeze make for a relaxing walk. As you hear a twig snap, you think nothing of it, until you look down, noticing that there is no twig under your woven sandal. Something else must have made that noise. You freeze, a feeling of ice in your veins spreading slowly as you look around, trying to discern the source of the noise. After a few seconds, something snaps again. You gasp, now sure that something is nearby. Clutching the basket to your chest, you begin to back away, and as your foot steps land just barely off the path, you hear scurrying. Convinced something is approaching, in a moment of panic you bolt.

Your light footsteps ring out, breathing growing heavy as you sprint away from the path, sandals rubbing harshly on your feet causing them to grow sore. The sound of the approaching beast grows quieter, but you continue to run. You whip your head back for just a moment, to see if you can catch a glimpse of whatever creature is stalking you, when you are suddenly thrown forward. You fall with a cry, slamming into the soft dirt of the forest floor, the contents of your basket scattering as they hit the ground with you. Still panicking, you ignore the pain and sit up quickly, your eyes following your now injured leg to what caused you to trip. Furrowing your brows, as you look closer, you realize you've tripped on some sort of mushroom. A small patch of blue and purple fungi rests where your foot was, stretching around you, as if forming a sort of ring. You hold your breath for a moment, straining as you try and hear any noise from the direction you came. You sigh when you hear nothing, assuming the wild animal has given up the chase in favor of another prey. Now that you feel slightly more secure, you wiggle your ankle a little, trying to work off any pain. Once you're convinced you'll be okay, you take a moment to steady your breathing. Looking to your left, you see the goods you were to give to the apothecary scattered amongst dirt and leaves, but your basket appears to be missing. You gasp, looking to your left and right for the basket, when suddenly a hand appears from behind you, offering you your basket from over your shoulder. You let out a terrified screech, whipping around and scrambling away from the mysterious figure, hands brushing against the edge of the mushroom ring.

As you tremble, your eyes focus on the figure before you. It is not a roguish thief, nor a golden-eyed beast, but rather a bare-chested, wild-eyed young man. He is squatted down on a stump in the center of the mushroom ring, head tilted with a mischievous smile as he peers down at your shaking form. Small horns emerge just past his head of wild, curly hair. Though shirtless, jewelry of animal bones and twigs adorns his neck and shoulders, with splotches of smeared ink and paint spread across his arms and pecs. He would be oddly alluring, if not for the paralyzing shock of his sudden appearance.

"W-who are you?" You exclaim, curling into yourself and staring up at him with a frightened gaze. The odd boy laughs, an impish sound, before leaning forward on his toes, allowing him to peer down at you. "Hmm, I don't know. You first!" He says, grinning as he looks at your face change from fear to confusion, your posture relaxing a little. "Me first...?" You repeat, before you gasp. Mothers scroll, you've already broken one of the rules, 'do not speak to strangers.' You mustn't break another by revealing your name. " I can't say. Besides, I asked you first." You speak out in a moment of boldness, and though his face falls for a moment, taken aback, he smiles once more. "Very well, mortal. They call me Puck, spirit of the northern wood, knave and jester-servant his majesty, the fairy king of the Seelie Court." You tilt your head, rather shocked at his introduction. "A spirit?" He nods. "A fae, in a more specific sense, though I doubt you mortals have an easy time discerning the difference." He sighs, hopping lightly off the oaken stump and shuffling closer to you. "A fae, what is that?"

He lets out a choked gasp at your questions, as if personally slighted. "What is a fae? Have you not heard the legends and tales of my peoples exploits from the drunks and gossipers of your townships, little mortal. We..." He pauses to stand and spread his arms wide, twirling once with a roguish glee. "We are the nurturers of nature, acolytes of the autumn and worshipers of the winter. You owe your fair green fields, evening rains and bountiful harvests to use, you know." He spins back around to face you, leaning down to meet your gaze. "I wonder how you've gone so long, living in neither awe nor fear of my kind." He ponders. You look away, upset about being reminded of your naivety of the outside world. You shrug. "I live with my mother, in no specific town. We are rather isolated, so we don't get the newest information." You explain, and Puck nods, a mischievous glint in his eye. You can't look past his whimsical aura to see the plan forming in his brain. "Aw..." He puffs out his lips, pouting. "Poor mortal, your homely duties allow you no knowledge of the world us fae give you? And no time for jest and entertainment? What a sad life." You sigh, and shake your head. "I'm quite fine with my life, I'll have you know. A-and I get out plenty, I'm delivering good for my mother right now!" You snap, feeling rather patronized by the spirit. He laughs, flopping his head to the side and sticking out his tongue. "You're lying, I can tell. We fae are very keen when sensing deception." "I'm not lying!" Puck only holds his hands up, as if giving you permission to remain in denial.

"Besides," You grab your mother's basket from his hands, ignoring his protests. You quickly begin to place the herbs and plants back into it, very concerned with both making your delivery and getting away from Puck. He seems nice, but... mother had warned you of strangers. As your hands rapidly sift through leaves and dirt, brushing off the produce, you stand back up. You move backwards, not turning your back on the spirit boy. "It's been... interesting to make your acquaintance, but I really must be going if I'm going to make my delivery and return home by nightfall." You attempt to bid Puck farewell and step back over the line of the mushroom ring, but as you do, Puck's eyes widen in momentary surprise. Jolting forward, the wild boy takes you quickly into his arms and leans over you, almost knocking you backwards with the sudden imbalance of your two forms now meshed together.

Despite his thin and lanky stature, his arms and body are surprisingly strong. You can feel his toned muscles press against you in this moment, as his surprise turns back to his grin. "Wait now, sweet mortal friend... there's no need to flee from Puck." He can clearly sense your nervousness, though you can't tell if he truly wishes to ease your fear or enjoys the power he holds over you. "Let me make you an offer-" "I should really-" "No, no, no... just give a spirit a chance, hear my offer before you decline me." He presses himself a little closer to you, though not in a way that makes you feel preyed on, persay. If any other man were to try and hold you to him like this, you would feel sick to your stomach, sure of the man impure and perverse intentions. With Puck though, even though you are frightened by his magical and impish nature, he touch feels almost... nice. He holds you to him, but not tight enough to be threatening, and his lanky limbs hanging from you makes the embrace playful. You open your mouth to speak, but close it, curiosity eating through your nerves. He leans in closely, shaking his head slightly and whispering his offer. "I'll take you to where your delivery is, the-" He pauses. "Apothecary." You finish. "Apothecary, and in turn, you will accompany me for a drink." He presses his forehead to yours playfully, invading your personal space for yet another time as he stares intently at you.

"Oh, no, no, I can't accompany you anywhere!" You take his moment of softness as he waits for a response as a chance to pull yourself from his grasp. To your surprise, he doesn't grin more or even pout at your refusal. Rather, his brows furrow and his smile fades. He seems genuinely disappointed, possibly even hurt. "And for what reason? Surely not for your delivery, as I promised to take you there quicker than any mortals legs could carry them." He inquires. You shake your head. "While I appreciate it, I'm not supposed to speak to strangers, much more accept things from them! My mother says-" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, your mortal mother told you. If I recall, you told Puck that you and your mother know nothing of spirits and fae, so how can you truly know she speaks an accurate portrayal of my people?" He sighs. "I often find the mortals fear us more than they need, just think of me, for example. Has this shadow done anything to offend your nature or kind thus far?" You pause, but then shake your head. "And I'm sure you've broken some of her rules..." You gasp, looking up at him with a bit of a glare, causing him to laugh as he falls back onto the stump. "How did you know about the rules she gave me?" You ask. "I had your little basket with more for quite some time, gave me plenty of time to read." He says. From his hair, he pulls out the worn scroll, and rolls it open, turning to shield it from you when you lunge to get it. "Rule 1, hmm. Well, you've spoken to me, so consider that rule broken." He tears off the top of the scroll, making you groan in frustration. "Rule 2, you've told me no name, so consider that one intact." He moves down to the third rule. "Rule 3, says to accept no food from me, but... it says nothing about a drink...?" He pauses, looking at you. "I- fine, I will accompany you, but I must be home by midnight!" He hops up, and in a rush of glee he throws you up into the air, spinning you in his arms. When he places you back down, still embracing you, it takes you a moment to catch your breath. "You have my word, little mortal, and a faes promise is a powerful thing."

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Several hours later, (though you yourself have lost track of time), you find yourself with Puck, sitting on a smooth rock just beside a waterfall, which leads into a stream. Various flowers of all shapes and colors bloom around you, with one of them producing the sweet nectar which Puck has so graciously been serving the two of you. Despite your initial fear, this evening has been rather enjoyable. Puck tells you much of his life and his people. You learn his works directly under the king, serving as a companion and jester. He regales you with tales of his exploits, from curdling the milk of a farmer mid-drink to scaring a nun into believing she was haunted, nearly driving her mad. He tells you of the king and queen's affairs, the queen's bitterness and the king's anger. You smile, feeling the nectar relaxing you with every sip as you grow sleepy, time becoming of no importance. "More nectar, my mortal friend?" He asks, extending a cup of petals to you. You shake your head, waving him off weakly. "No, I couldn't... truly." He nods and places the vase away.

"Now, what of your home? Tell me what is it a lonely mortal like you does all day?" He inquires, leaning back as he stares at you. "Mmh, I'd tell you if I could think right now, but in all honesty I think this drink is affecting me... perhaps mortals like me are more weak to it?" You ask. Puck chuckles, he himself is calmed by the drink, when he notices your flushed face. Your eyes are dropping, the majority of your body weight leans against the rocks behind you. He often enjoys the drunken antics of his fellow fae, and though he knows mortals to be quite quicker to become inebriated with fae drink, he hadn't expected you to succumb so quickly. In truth, he had only given you a small amount compared to himself, but then he supposed you must not even drink much human ale. "Puck?" You mumble, looking at him through your hooded lids. He is shaken from his thoughts, and nods for you to continue. He tries to focus, but finds your once shy form now relaxed and happy quite charming. "S' getting late, I think... could you take me home?" You ask, slurring your words a little. In truth, he had planned to get the attractive little mortal in a drunken fever with fae ale, and in your combined lustful state enjoy a night of pleasure, before leaving you to find your way back to your human hovel. However, as he argued with you in that mushroom ring, and invited you out, he found himself growing more and more attached, your naive mannerisms and innocence providing a contrast to his wild and knavish behaviors. Now, as you ask for him to return you to your home, he feels the same aching inside him he first felt when you had pulled away from him. He bites his lip, one of his hands wringing and tugging at his leafen skirt, his eyes full of conflict. After a few moments, he swallows, and begrudgingly nods, before attempting to put on his usual grin and try to see unbothered.

"Very well, my mortal friend. Come into my embrace and I shall lead you through these woods to your little mortal abode." He only opens his arms a little, before grunting as you flop into his arms, any resistance sober you would have had completely voided by your drunken stupor and need for warmth. It was rather cold in these woods at night. Puck is taken aback, usually he was the on invading space and hanging uncomfortably off those around him, often being scolded for his perverted clingyness, even among the rather wild and lustful fae. He halts his breath for a moment, before a genuine smiles spreads across his face, though he tries to conceal it behind his smug grin. As his cheeks warm up, he shakes his hair, hoping to cover some of it with the brunette locks. His arms come to sneak under your legs, picking your tired form up and beginning his brisk pace towards your home, which you had described earlier. He knew of it, (as he was sure he'd stolen some herbs from there for some not-so-innocent pranks.)

Upon arriving to your home, he moved silently through the front door, entering your room and gently placing you against your sheets. He places one of the thinner covers over you, pausing to admire your form. Just then, the door behind him opens. Your mother peers in, a look of worry fading as she sees you tucked into your bed, having safely returned from your errand. Though knowing he can't be seen by her, Puck remains still. Once your mother leaves, shutting the door softly behind her, he waits until her footsteps disappear before turning back to you. You groan, and shuffle further under the covers, before looking up at him. "Puck... how come I can see you but mother can't?" He doesn't answer for a moment, as if unsure whether or not to tell you of his trick to scare you into that faery ring with the sounds of a beast, making himself visible to you as your crossed the rings magical threshold. In the end, he decides not to. "Perhaps you're just special?" He suggests with a smile, making you blush. As he looks at you, he clenches his hands, resisting the urge to take you in his arms once more and take you back to the king with him. 'Not yet, not now.' he tells himself. He turns to leave, but your soft voice stops him once more. "Puck?" He nods, turning to face you. "Will you come back and see me?" He feels his heart swell at your request, and he nods. "Of course, you have this fae's word." He flourishes with a bow. You giggle. "And a fae's promise is a powerful thing, right?" You repeat what he had said earlier.

He nods, and with a small gust of wind, disappears behind the blowing of a curtain.

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britany1997 · 28 days

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Man of Your Midsummer Night’s Dreams

Dwayne x GN Fae Reader

Hope y’all enjoy this sweet little meet cute fic for Dwayne and Fae reader! Was really going for a ‘intimidating tough guy x sunshine reader’ trope hehe.

Comment to let me know you’d like to be added to my TLB taglist.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dwayne awoke with a start, fumbling around in the dark. He patted around his necklace, only to find another piece missing.

He growled lowly to himself and jumped down from the ceiling, waking the boys.

Paul yawned, rubbing his eyes. “What’s wrong man, why ya up so early?”

Dwayne frowned. “It happened again.”

Marko leapt down to the floor beside Dwayne. “Dude that’s crazy,” he scratched his head in confusion. “How could someone…I mean how did they…” he sighed.

“I don’t know,” Dwayne’s hands balled into fists. “But I’m gonna find out.”

You zipped around the boardwalk, snagging pins from jackets, buttons from bags, and dangly earring from ears, leaving a glamor in their place so as not to alert the owner to your thieving. You filled your arms with any shiny object you could get your hands on.

Humans were simple, you thought to yourself as you weaved in and out of the massive crowd of people, so easily charmed and tricked.

You paused to watch the sight of them bumbling around the boardwalk, unaware of your presence and the mischief you were causing. You laughed to yourself.

While you were largely indifferent to humans, there were a few you liked more than others.

Like this one. You cloaked yourself with invisibility, allowing your catlike smile to disappear into the sea air.

You tailed the dark haired man, his beauty beckoning like a candle in the dark.

You toyed with his hair, taking a strand between your fingers and pulling lightly. You stilled when his head turned just slightly. Could he see you?

He shrugged and returned to joking around with his friends, probably blaming your ministrations on the wind.

You smirked. He was just some silly human…some silly, pretty human man.

You picked at the charms on his necklace. You’d been visiting him every now and again, taking piece after piece and building a necklace of your own.

You wanted to remember this human when you eventually flitted out of town. They didn’t usually come this cute.

You reached out to pull at the necklace, but before you could, his hand sealed around your wrist.

You gasped, your invisibility fading, causing you to materialize in front of the four men.

You were so shocked, you couldn’t contain the glamor keeping you in human form. Translucent wings, soft and thin as silk, sprouted from your shoulder blades.

The blonde men’s eyes filled with awe as they took in the sight of you, but the dark haired man only scowled.

Your first impulse was to compress to your true form and fly away, but the man growled under his breath, his fangs poking out of his mouth. “Don’t even try it,” he warned.

Your jaw dropped, “you’re- you’re not human,” you stuttered.

The bleach blond man chuckled, “not quite sprite.”

Your nose scrunched in annoyance, “I’m a fairy,” you corrected.

He smirked at you and the dark haired man, “you’re all the same to me.”

You scowled.

The bleach blond man grabbed the two other men by their collars. “We’ll see you back at the cave Dwayne,” his eyes narrowed on you, “seems you’ve got some business to deal with before you head home.”

Your eyes widened in fear. You turned towards Dwayne. “You wouldn’t want my blood, it’s poisonous for vampires,” you lied.

He yanked you into an alleyway nearby and pushed you up against a cold stone wall. “You’re a liar little thief,” he purred.

You squeaked.

“Why did you steal from me?” He demanded.

You gaped like a fish, your eyes taking in his beautiful face. You could lose yourself in those big brown eyes.

You longed to touch his chiseled jaw and feel his stubble beneath your fingers.

You blushed.

He pushed you harder into the stone. “Tell me.”

“Stop! My wings,” you whimpered, the pressure threatening to crack them.

Dwayne’s firm expression never wavered, but he did loosen his grip. “Spit it out,” he demanded.

“I- I liked you,” you confessed. “I just wanted something of yours to keep with me.”

His brow furrowed and he let you down. “What?” he asked.

Your face turned bright red. “Fae we um…we like small little trinket things,” you gestured to his necklace.

“But we like pretty things too,” you shifted on your feet nervously, you felt caught in two different ways.

Dwayne cocked his head. You waited nervously for his reaction.

His lip pulled up into a smirk. “You think I’m pretty?” he teased.

You huffed, your already red face going full tomato. “You don’t have to make a big deal about it,” you pouted.

“Don’t be shy,” he purred, “I think you’re pretty too.”

He ran the back of his hand along your wings gently. “You’re such a delicate little thing, arentcha baby?”

You giggled, your wings twitching with excitement. “Vampires are so interesting,” you leaned in to stroke his chest lightly, “I’ve heard all about your sharp teeth, but no one’s ever told me about your silver tongues.”

His smile was all fang.

You flashed him a pouty look with big puppy dog eyes, “do you forgive me?” you asked, “for taking your things.”

He raised an eyebrow, holding out his hand to you, “why don’t you give them back first.”

You pouted, but reluctantly handed over the charms from his necklace.

“How bout I make you your own baby?” he offered. “Come back to the cave with me, I’ll make you anything you want.”

You beamed, nodding and shrinking down to your true fairy form. You landed, sitting down in the palm of his outstretched hand.

His other hand came around to stroke your cheek with one finger. “You’re adorable like this,” he whispered, “so precious.” He held you reverently.

You blushed, smiling up at him with admiration. You wouldn’t be leaving Santa Carla anytime soon.

TLB Taglist❤️:

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jeannineee · 9 months

Note

Hiii, how have you been?

Can you please write something for Eris x mate reader and it’s like late at night and they’re sleeping but Eris is having a nightmare and is tossing and turning and this wakes up the reader. The reader tries to help but traumatized baby gets alarmed and accidentally burns his mate ☹️☹️. Very detailed i know but it was just a though I had 😭👍

Daylight

Eris Vanserra x Reader

a/n: requests are open!! Eris is so Taylor Swift coded. In case the title wasn’t obvious, this fic reminded me of “Daylight” by Miss Swift.

warnings: depictions of a nightmare, descriptions of burn injury

The sound of Eris mumbling and turning in his sleep roused you awake. You sat up to look at him, heart aching at the sight before you. His furrowed brows, quivering lip. Mumbles of ‘help me,’ and ‘leave me alone.’ Another nightmare.

You moved up the bed, gently pulling his head into your lap. He remained asleep, so you began running your fingers through his tousled hair, murmuring words of comfort.

“Eris, baby. You’re having another nightmare,” you said, tracing your thumb along his cheekbone. “Wake up for me. It’s alright. Just a night—“

“Don’t touch me!” Eris yelled as he startled awake, his hand clinging to your arm. A searing, white-hot pain sunk into your skin, eliciting a yelp from you.

Eris released your arm instantly, horror and worry painting his expression. “I—I’m so—I’m so sorry,” he told you, voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

You looked at the handprint-shaped burn on your forearm, wincing. Your words were soft, gentle. “You didn’t mean to. It’s alright.”

“I’ll go summon one of the healers,” Eris declared, rising from the bed.

“I’ll come with—“

“No. Just…just stay here.”

Eris left the bedroom before you had a chance to argue.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The healer was in and out within a few minutes. The burn was deep, but between your Fae healing, and the salve they applied, it was already fading.

Eris sat on the edge of the bed the entire time, listening intently, but unable to watch. You crawled down the bed, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

“I am so sorry,” he breathed, not meeting your eyes.

“I am alright,” you reassured, brushing your lips over his shoulder.

“I hurt you.” His voice was pained, disgusted.

“We both know it wasn’t intentional.”

Eris still wouldn’t look at you. “My father—“

You moved to his side, lightly gripping his jaw, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Listen to me. You are nothing like your father. Not in the slightest. You are good. You are loyal, and protective, and loving and brave. You are nothing like him.”

Eris dipped his chin, tears brimming his eyes. You tried soothing him through the bond as you wrapped your arms around him. “I love you, so much. I love every part of you,” you whispered, your own tears falling down your cheeks. “I love you,” you repeated.

“I love you too,” Eris finally spoke, voice cracking.

You held him tightly. Listened to his broken weeping until it turned to slow, deep breaths. You pulled him against you in bed, resting his head on your chest. By the time you joined him in sleep, the golden sun was peeking through the curtains, birds singing in the trees.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #female reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #Eris Vanserra fluff #acosf #acowar #acofas #acotar fluff #acotar angst

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sarawritestories · 1 month

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Hello! Could i request a cassian fic where reader and cassian are gone on a mission but reader gets her cycle halfway and when they stay overnight at an inn or something cassian finds reader really exhausted and numb and puts the pieces together realising she might be on her period because she is too shy to tell him. so cassian helps her through her cramps and all. Just lots of fluff.

This is absolutely perfection! I hope I did this justice for you! This also features a trop I was requested to do by @hellodarling1357 that may include one bed 😄

I Got You, Sweetheart

Cassian X fem Reader

Summary: Going on a mission with Cassian is all fun and games until your cycle makes an unexpected appearance.

Content warning: none

Word Count: 1.7 k

ACOTAR Masterlist

“Keep up slowpoke. We’re almost there.” Cassian yells from a mile away the warmth and light of the Spring Court sun making him almost ethereal. I scowl at him as I huff breath leaning against the tree trunk trying to catch my breath. This trek on the hillside of the Spring court wouldn’t be an issue for me but today the incline is exhausting me. Cassian began running in place only to be stopped by him sneezing. I giggle as I continue forward handing him my handkerchief when I walk past. “I fucking hate this place.” Cassian grumbles as he blows his nose.

I look out at the expanse of land that lives in eternal spring. The vibrant hues of the territory were beautiful various shades of greens and pinks. Greenery everywhere even when walking into the village. I take a moment and let the warmth of the sun kiss my skin and warm my face. “Its not all bad,” I look to him and wink, as he scratches your chest, “One day we’ll get you a tonic so you can actually enjoy being here.”

Cassian stops scratching and continues forward, “I doubt I would like it. With the High Lord being a prick.” I roll my eyes and follow him. Ironically enough Feyre was the one that asked us to come here and try to provide aid to the villages. When she asked, I could see the guilt on her face, she felt bad for how she handled destroying her former lover’s court, and no one had seen Tamlin in a few months. I agreed and she insisted I bring Cassian and gave me a suggestive look as she did. Busybody.

Looking in front of me and admired the General’s wings twitching, itching to spread out but he was not taking any chances of an enemy aiming for them. “I can feel you staring, Sweetheart.”

He speaks out and I jump as we reach another steep incline. I took another deep breath and kept moving. I keep my focus on the back of Cassian’s head and force down the exhaustion and the slight pain in my abdomen.

We reach the village when the sun begins to set, and I grab Cassian’s arm as I look at the sun going down the various shades of orange and pink painting the sky in a bloom of color. “I should ask Feyre to paint more scenery pieces. This view is breathtaking.” I lean my head on his arm as Cassian chuckles.

“Tell me are you going to fill the house of wind with all of Feyre’s paintings?”

“Maybe. And when I get done with all the public areas, I’ll start redecorating rooms.” I smirk at him, “Starting with yours.”

Cassian squints his eyes and gets close to my face our foreheads touching, “You wouldn’t dare.”

I giggle and flick his nose, “You’re cute when you’re acting like you don’t like the idea of me in your room.”

Cassian blinked and straightened back to his full height clearing his throat ready to change the subject. A wave of pain ran through my abdomen again and I winced in pain, Cassian’s brows knitted together, scanning me as if he can see where the source of my pain came from, “You alright?”

I wave him off, “I’m sure I’m just hungry. Should we find an Inn?” Cassian nods and leads us into a village, his wing extending to me, to shield me from the temperature dip as the sun lowered.

The inn was full of loud boisterous patrons. The low lighting of the fae lights cast a warm glow over the tavern portion. Patrons filled the tables some were a few farmers cheering for a fruitful harvest. There was a family enjoying their dinner and faintly in the back corner two lovers were tied in an embrace. Cassian’s breath warmed my pointed ear, “Go find a seat I’ll get us a room.”

I nod and look for a seat. Finding a spot near the stairs that lead to the rooms, I plop on the seat and exhaustion hits me full force followed by another bout of pain. I groan and place my head on the cool wooden table. The sounds of the tavern become muted as I close my eyes and try to ignore the pain and then I smell it and my eyes blink open wide. No. No. it can’t be. I’m two weeks early, and I’m growing dizzy. I try to move to sit up against the wall, my head swirling and swirling to the point of feeling numb.

Cassian comes in, “They had one room left with two beds.” He smiles and he looks at me and he frowns.

I raise my arm to poke his cheek, “Hey, you turned your smile into a frown. Fix it.”

He grips my wrist, “What is goin-“ Then his eyes goes wide. “Ohhh. Come on, let’s get you upstairs.” He helped me up, His hand staying on my back just to let me know he was there.

We reach the top of the stairs; Cassian grabs my hand and leads me to our room. When he turns the key and Cassian curses. I look inside, the last room with two beds, looks awful like one bed. And a bad Cramp made me cling to Cassian in a whimper, “Cass.” I tilted my head up to blink away the tears.

Maybe it’s the delirium I give him a weak smile, “Can I have you?”

Cassian looks down at me his mouth in a tight libe, and his warm eyes fill with concern. He hooks his arms under my knees and wrapped and around my shoulders, “I got you, Sweetheart.” I lean my head around his neck, and I barely notice his heartbeat as he crosses to the bed. He places me down tenderly. “I need to grab some things for you, beautiful. Do you want anything in particular?” He crouches down to meet my eyes and brushes my hair behind my ear, and I lean into his touch.

Cassian smiles, and kisses my forehead, “We can talk about that when I get you everything you need.” He stands and I grip his hand, “Sweetheart, you need a tonic for the pain, you will need fresh undergarments, you need your nightgown. Please let me take care of you.” He bends down to kiss my knuckles. “I won’t be long.”

I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to Cassian nudging me. I peel my eyes open and smile as his hazel eyes and met mine, “Hi.”

Cassian’s grin broadens, “Hey, you.” He has a vial in his hand, “Sit up for me, will your sweets.”

I attempt to but then a sharp waive of pain washed over me and I cried out, “Cassie, it hurts.” Cassian’s face falls, I only pull out that name when things are out of control.

“I know, baby, let me help take the pain away but I need you to at least lift your head, can you do that?”

I slowly nod and l lift my head, Pain explodes behind my eyes, but I grit my teeth and keep my head there as Cassian uncorks the vial. He cups my cheek trying to hold my head up for me, wiping tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Open for me.” I open my mouth and he tilt the vile so the liquid can go down my throat. He gently lays my head back down. “You want me to help get you in comfortable clothes?”

I nod my head, “Please, anything that can keep me from getting up would be preferred.” I whispered. He nodded and with skill and precision he got me out of my leathers and into the night gown he provided. I turned to my side so I could face him as he grabbed something from his bag, “What’s that?”

He smiled and opened the bag to reveal a piece of chocolate cake, I smiled. “I figured you could use it.”

I looked at him and tears began to form, “You’re too good to me. I envy the female who ends up your mate. She will be very lucky.”

Cassian’s face fell as he tore a piece of the cake with his fork and held it to my lips, I took a bite and hummed in approval. Cassian bit his lip and looked at me, “I have a mate.”

My hormones are raging, and my tears become soft sobs, at least that’s what I’m telling myself. “What’s she like? Do you like her? Does she know?”

Cassian takes a bite of the cake. “I don’t know. How Would you describe yourself?”

I furrow my brow as he places the fork with a bite of the cake that I graciously take and then it hit me. The bond snapped and the gold tether led me to Cassian. “Cass.”

He shushes me. “We will talk about it when you’re better. Right now, my mate is hurting, and I would very much like to take care of her.”

Tears kept flowing as he feeds me more cake, “She would like that.” Another wave of pain hits me, and my sobs take over. Cassian walks away and pulls off his leathers, replacing them with sleeping pants and climbs over me to the other side of the bed.

He gently turns me over and maneuvers us so my head is on his warm chest and his wing curved over me to provide extra warmth. And he holds me like that until my sobs get under control and he rubs his hand up and down my arm in soothing circles. My eyes began to droop, “Cassian?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” His voice was laced with sleep as well.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Cassian kisses my forehead, and the tip of my nose and his lips meet mine in a tender loving kiss. When he pulls away, he presses his head to mine, “I wanted to do that for so long.”

I yawn and shut my eyes, “Now you can kiss me for say eternity.”

Cassian yawns as well, “Sounds like a good plan.”

Thanks for reading!

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fluff #acotar fluff

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 month

Text

Another Chance

Summary: Y/n is a fallen star. Lucien finds her.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: my second fic for my first @starfallweek celebration🥳

so, as we all know, i cant live without my baby boi luc, so out of the three random fics i started writing yesterday, this made it to the finish line.

also, i couldnt decide who to pick because, this fic was obviously going to be an x reader fic, but then i got the brilliant idea to make it Jesminda x luc, but now i present to you.... THIS!!!!

(@daycourtofficial please dont kill me ily)

anyways, enjoy!

•○🌑○•

If someone got dropped in the middle of a night court's forest and didn't know, all they had to do was wait till the sun set.

After that, the dark practically screamed Night court.

Walking through the thick roots blanketing the ground, it seemed like there was no light in the world, the canopy so thick that even the light from the travelling stars that filled the night sky was hard to penetrate.

The air was still, though the occasional breeze made Lucien shiver as he wandered around aimlessly, trying to pass the time until he returned to the human lands so Vassa and Jurian didn't question him about his early arrival.

Lucien glanced down to his feet as he kicked a rock, then stomped on a fallen branch. In front of him, Lucien could see a clearing coming into view, but he decided to turn away.

That is until the world suddenly brightened, and Lucien's head whipped up to see a bright streak of light flying straight toward that clearing.

He watched as it- the star- collided with the ground and soil flew in every direction, a loud thud echoing in the aftermath before silence again enveloped the forest.

Lucien was sprinting towards the dent in the earth the moment he got his bearings, tripping and falling over his own feet. His heart beat in his ears, telling him to hurry and go to her.

Lucien did not understand this sudden urge, but he did not fight it as he sped up.

Just a few feet away from the shallow crater in the earth, Lucien's ears picked up on sounds.

Groans of pain emanated from whatever had landed in the clearing, and for the first time since Lucien saw it beelining towards the ground, he was on edge and wondering if this was a good idea.

Oh well.

Peering in, Lucien's whole body froze as he studied the softly moving form of... of a fae.

What the fuck?

Lucien's brain had stopped working, for he could do nothing but stare at the female and think about how she felt familiar.

Too familiar.

The colour of her hair, the tone of her skin, the shape of her body...

With a jolt, Lucien realised why she felt so familiar.

This was not a random fae. This was Lucien's first and only love. The one he had watched die in front of his eyes.

Jesminda.

Y/n Jesminda Flores.

She glanced up after a moment of squirming, her eyes widening with relief when she found Lucien staring at her.

"Lucien? Help me out please."

As if in a trance, Lucien watched his hand extend and grasp hers, tears springing in his eyes when his skin touched hers, the familiarity and comfort of it threatening to break him.

He did not feel anything, numb and confused as he watched her dust herself off, still in the bloody slip she had been wearing when she was kill-

No.

Lucien could not think back to that time, for if he did, he would lose any and all composure he had managed to hold on to.

"Jesminda? How- I... how?"

She glanced up at him, a furrow between the brows Lucien used to kiss every chance he got.

"What? Why do you look like someone bit you in the ass huh?" A teasing smile, the one Lucien would have died for, graced her lips, and finally, despite his efforts, a tear slipped out of his eye.

"Y/n, how are you here? I... you- you died."

"Oh shut it Lucien, what do you mean I died? I'm standing here in front of you aren't I?" She glanced behind her to the crater, then frowned down at her slip. "Though I would love to have a chat with whoever put me in that crater and in this ugly thing. Why would someone put a bloody-"

She didn't get to finish, because the next moment, Lucien was wrapped around her, holding her as if he wanted to kill her from lack of air.

"Lucien- Oh mother- stop. I can't breathe."

She tried to slap him on the back, his waist, anywhere she could reach, but he did not budge.

"Y/n- Y/n you died. You were killed in front of me." He sobbed, burying his face in her shoulder.

Y/n froze. "What the hell are you talking about Lucien? I'm..." She trailed off, then quickly pushed him away. "Lucien, what day is it?"

He sniffed. "Starfall in the Nigh court."

She blinked, then turned her face towards the sky. "Was I really killed?"

He nodded.

"Then maybe the stories were true."

"What stories?" Lucien questioned as he discreetly tried to wipe his face on the sleeve of his jacket.

"My mother used to tell me. The souls that travel during starfall? Sometimes the Mother grants them another chance in life, but its so rare that barely anyone knows about it."

She grabbed Lucien's arms, tears now streaming down her face.

"If what you're saying is true, which I believe you, then the Mother has blessed us."

He blinked at her, brain unable to grasp anything. "I-"

She laughed, her head tossed back. "Oh Lucien, my love my heart, what would I ever do without you."

Lucien smiled, starting to believe this was not some cruel joke the mother was playing on him.

She quieted down after a moment, looking at him with the eyes she could only use when in the safety of his rooms.

So much love, too much adoration swirled in the depths of those eyes, a window to her soul.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Its been centuries-"

"Centuries?! What the fuck??"

Lucien laughed then, like the way he'd never laughed since she left him.

"Cauldron boil me, you need to give me all the drama that happened while I was doing mother knows what." She glanced down. "But before that, maybe let me take a shower. And your clothes."

Lucien pulled her in for a kiss before she could demand anything else.

•○🌑○•

Whore hive: @clairebear08 @thehighladywrites @artists-ally @berryzxx @riddlesb1tch @readychilledwine

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1 @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21 @mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

Lucien Vanserra Taglist: @mirandasidefics @fell-in-luvs @tele86

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readychilledwine · 3 months

Text

Exhibition and Voyeurism

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️

Exhibition is the sexual arousal of being watched or looked at naked or while performing a sexual act. Exhibition is a kink that most of us actually tend to have to some degree. We can live it out in a place as simple as in front of a mirror with just our partner, by partaking in group sex, or in some places, there are clubs you can attend that attract the swinger and BDSM lifestyle that allow exhibition shows and scenes between couples. This kink is just one side of a very fun and exciting coin.

Voyeurism is being aroused by watching others during sexual acts or naked, and that is the second side of this coin. Voyeurs can find their kicks through a few different methods, but a common one we as a society have stopped associating with both of these kinks are strip clubs. A Voyeur may also be someone who partakes in cuckolding.

I've used exhibition/voyeurism in a few fics before since it is one of my favorite kinks to learn and write about. If you are interested in those, let me know, and I can send you some links 💕

💕 Peep the Valentines Day List Here 💕

💜Read Drumming Song Here💜

As always- NSFW below cut

Rhysand x TamlinsSister!reader

Warnings - could be seen as dubcon in nature (use of sex pollen), Rhys having to wear his mask, public sex, mentions of watching public sex, reader is used by Amarantha to send message to Tamlin, no mentions of seeing Tamlin during the act though, inferred power play with 3 people, forgot to send this to a friend to have them find errors, so forgive me.

Rhys kissed your shoulder, his eyes slightly haunted as he stepped back. “It's been a month,” he whispered gently. “She wants it done tonight.”

Tonight, of course she did after forcing you, Tamlin, and Lucien to watch Feyre beaten into a pulp. You swallowed heavily, stilling your mind while knowing what was to come. “She's doing this to hurt him,” a small smirk came to Rhysand's lips, causing you to glare.

“You practically came to the idea of this not that long ago.” His hands were on you within a second of you turning away from him. Arms wrapped you tightly into him. “This is about your safety. Your protection. She believed you are my toy, therefore will not touch you due to my loyalty.” His voice had dripped down to a soft purr, echoing from your ear to the rest of your body. “You know I would not ask this of you if it wasn't absolutely necessary.”

Wine appeared before you. It reflected a soft golden shimmer and smelled faintly of citrus. Rhys picked it up, bringing it to your lips as he stared at you in the mirror. “You were so good for me during the Rite. Just be my good girl one more night, darling.”

He pressed the cool glass against your lips, tilting it in silent command. “Trust me.”

You nodded, eyes watering slightly. You would never live this down. It would forever stain your history, stain the Spring Court's history. You allowed him to force the sweet liquid into your mouth, swallowing it as he placed a kiss to your temple.

By time two shadows were done dressing you, your skin had started on fire.

Heat pooled your body like a fevered dream making everything hazy. Every brush of their hands on your skin was heaven.

But Gods when Rhys came in, when your mate came into the room smelling of power and seduction, you were instantly on him.

Rhys smiled, hands going to your hips as he scented your arousal. You could faintly hear your brother growling, hear Amarantha's cruel voice, but all that mattered was Rhysand. “Are you ready, darling?”

This wasn't one of Amarantha's usual parties where the air was stiff with tension and hatred. No, she had tapped into the more animalistic side of fae, allowing drinking, fucking, and fighting.

You were currently perched on Rhysand's lap, core dripping as you watched two females eating each other out as if they'd found water after months in the Day Court's deserts.

The gown you were in was completely see through, leaving none of your body to the imagination. You could hear Rhysand growl each time you two were approached at your high table.

His hands had begun to roam. Squeezing your breasts, your plush thighs, you ass.

You had begun to subconsciously rock on his thigh as need began settling into your bones. Rhysand's hand moved down, cupping your sex as he began placing tender kisses along your throat. “Good girl,” he purred. “Need help, baby?” You nodded eagerly, gasping as he spread your legs so you had one on each side of his thighs, opening you up to the room with only a shimmering fabric barely hiding you.

He took one of your arms, forcing it behind his head and pulled your back to his chest.

A long finger circled your clit, causing you to moan loudly. You felt some eyes snapping over to the both of you, locking in on where that hand played with your soaked pussy. Looking over with flushed cheeks, you watched as Helion took a heavy drink, his eyes tracking each movement of Rhysand's hand, his body stirring with each moan and gasp you released.

It took but seconds for you and Rhysand to be the main show as his finger began teasing your entrance.

The Lord of Night and the Rose of Spring.

Death and Life.

The idea of you two was erotic alone, but seeing it had some of the fae in the room on their knees, as if worshiping every soft plea that left your mouth.

When Rhysand finally pushed two fingers in, you couldn't help the scream of his name. You went to turn your head, only for his other hand to grip your hair, keeping your vision locked on where the other fae where fucking in a group.

Whatever he had given you had dropped your inhibitions. It had relaxed you so completely your mind had forgotten why this was being done. You began riding his fingers in time with a pretty female sitting on a male's face. His fingers were curling, hitting that perfect spot and sending spark after spark through you. Your slick was dripping down his hand making him chuckle darkly in your ear. “Look at you, baby. Look at you getting off with all the High Lords watching you. All of their advisors watching you.” You whined in despair as he took his fingers out of you, forcing you to stand long enough for him to take his cock out.

His beautiful heavy cock just waiting to plunge into you. To feel you. He sat back down, keeping your back to his chest before sinking you down fully on him.

You came shamelessly as he bottomed out, but had no time to rest as he ripped the thin material of your dress off, leaving your body bare to all in attendance and began thrusting into you.

Eyes were tracking each bounce of your breasts, each drop of sweat, each sweet moan causing your lips to part. Rhys retitled your head to where Amarantha sat watching. Her gaze was predatory, dangerous, and filled with lust.

In a normal situation, it would have disgusted you, but as you rode him, as every inch of you stretched out around him further fueling the fire in your lower tummy, she didn't matter.

No one mattered.

It was just you and him, putting on a show for anyone to see and enjoy.

Your inner walls began twitching and pulsing around Rhys causing you to beg. Your eyes rolled with each movement, mouth falling open as he fucked you stupid.

“Do not be rude, Rhysand. Allow our poor y/n to cum.”

Rhys kissed below you ear before licking the pointed shell. “Cum for me, not for anyone else, for your mate.”

Stars clouded your vision as you screamed his name, mind falling into an even deeper has as his thrusts grew sloppy inside of you before he followed behind.

It was then that he bit your pulse point hard enough to trigger another orgasm, allowing your body to milk every last drop from him. Rhys allowed you to collapse against him, giving you a few moments before he lifted you and used magic to fix his pants.

He fully lifted you bridal style then, nodding to Amarantha as he carried you back to his room.

“Again,” you whispered to him, hand finding his face. “I need more.”

Rhys kissed your palm when it reached his cheek. “I will give you your fill in our room, y/n Darling. Just let me get you away from all those eyes first.”

You nodded sadly, peering up at him with puppy eyes and making his steps falter. “What's wrong?”

“I liked it. Again.”

The soft demand had His gaze going dark. “You will be the death of me, y/n. But if it is at the cost of this perfect cunt, then who I am to complain?”

General tag list:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

@mariahoedt @rinalouu

Rhys taglist:

@tothestarsandwhateverend @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

Valentines Day Taglist

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand fic #rhysand x tamlin sister!reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #rhys x y/n #rhys x you #readychilledwine valentines day bingo

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