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serpentandlily · 1 month

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Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny IV - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: a lil bit of angst, a lil bit of fluff, a lil bit of suggestion

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

To say he was panicking would be an understatement.

No, Eris had felt panicked when he had opened the door to his chambers and realized his mate was not there. But that panic turned to full-fledged terror when he had finally tracked down the two handmaidens he'd assigned her this morning and they both said they had no idea where his mate was.

He stalked through the Forest Home---trying to appear calm and nonchalant despite what he felt. He didn't want anyone to catch wind of something being amiss. Not before he was able to find his mate and safely get her back to his chambers. Lucky for him, he'd been forced to wear a mask his whole life and this was no different.

A bark from behind caused him to whirl around. Ashera came running from around the corner, ears flapping and tail wagging. That had to be a good sign. She yipped again when she caught up to him and gripped the edge of his cuff in her sharp teeth.

"Did you find her, Ash?" Eris asked, quietly.

He was answered with a pull of her teeth. His shoulders loosened with relief and he let Ashera guide him to wherever it was that she had found his mate. He had given Ashera the order to find her the minute he realized she was missing and had gone the opposite way of her to cover more ground.

A few moments later, he found himself in front of the doors to the library. Ashera let go of him and started to paw at the doors with a whine. He could hear two voices from behind the doors. His mate's and....

He grabbed both handles and yanked open the double doors, stalking inside.

"And do you want to know what I said—" His brother, Finnegan, abruptly cut off his sentence when the sound of the doors slamming shut behind Eris and Ashera caught his attention. He looked up, smirking when he caught sight of his frazzled brother.

Seated in front of his brother, a chessboard on the table between them, was his mate. She turned in her chair, eyes wide as she looked over with surprise until she recognized who was there. A soft smile bloomed on her beautiful face, her doe eyes lighting up.

No one had ever looked at him like that when he entered rooms. Not even his own mother. No, he was usually met with either fear or disdain. But not from his mate... She should've been staring at him with disgust or contempt, especially after how he had treated her yesterday and especially after their argument this morning when he forbade her from leaving his room. Instead, she seemed happy to see him.

Was she putting on a front for his brother?

"Eris!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat. "You're back. Oh, you won't believe the day I've had! Finn found me wandering around and—"

"Come here," Eris ordered, cutting her off. He held out his hand towards her. His brother's smirk grew as Eris glowered at him. His mate’s eyebrows rose in question but she thankfully listened to him, walking to his side and grasping his hand in her much smaller, much softer one.

Ashera let out an excited yip and brushed up against her legs, causing his mate to smile down at her. Honestly, he should've known she was his mate the minute his hounds hadn't torn into her when she first appeared in Autumn that day. Should've known the second Ashera had pranced forward and tried to comfort her, for Gods' sake. His dogs were prime hunters, yet around her, they were reduced to nothing more than fluffy house pets it seemed.

He remembered seeing her for the first time, her leg stuck in that bear trap. Despite the tears running down her face and her hair tangled with leaves and twigs, she was the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. So soft and delicate. The opposite of everything he was.

But the mating bond hadn’t truly snapped until the shadowsinger had shown up in the clearing that day and whisked her into his arms. She had looked straight at him and a golden thread had unwoven in his chest, causing him to stagger back just as they disappeared in a swirl of shadows. It had taken all of his will power not to immediately storm the Night Court if only to see her for a second more.

“Can I not have her for a few more minutes, brother?” Finn asked, tossing his arms behind his head and resting his head against them with a smug grin. “We’re nearly finished with our game.”

Eris sneered at his brother. “If I see you sniffing around her again, I’ll rip out your throat.”

“Eris!” His mate exclaimed, looking up at him with wide eyes. He ignored her, still glaring daggers at his brother who didn’t even flinch at the threat.

“You’re lucky I stumbled upon her before father did,” Finn crooned. “I’d say you owe me one for allowing her the pleasure of my company.”

“Well, consider me not ending you where you stand your one and only favor,” Eris retorted. His mate went to pull her hand from his but he gripped her tighter, finally looking down at her. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

He stalked towards the library door, pulling her with him despite her soft protests. He didn’t say a word to her as he led her back to his chambers, not wanting any servants milling about to gossip if they heard anything. He only released her hand once they were safely in the living area of his quarters and behind the heavy wards set up.

“Are you out of your mind?” She hissed at him, holding her hand to her chest.

“Are you?” He bit back, flicking his hair out of his face. “I gave your strict orders to stay here while I was gone or with your handmaidens!”

“I am not something you can just keep under lock and key!”

“You’re not in the Night Court anymore, bunny,” Eris argued. “My father is nothing like Rhysand. The males outside these doors are nothing like those two wretched Illyrians. I can have you chained to my bed and no one would bat an eye, do you understand?”

“And is that what you’ll do if I don’t listen to you?” She retorted, crossing her arms. “Put me in chains?”

“No,” he snapped. “But I will lock you in here if I must. I’d rather you hate me than let anything happen to you.”

“Then take me out with you,” she protested. “Don’t leave me here!”

Eris let out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking down at his irritating, foolish, and completely and utterly bewitching mate. Her large eyes were hopeful, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. The mating bond was driving him absolutely wild. He wanted to shove her against the wall and rip that lip out of her teeth with his own.

“Please,” she whispered.

“Fine,” he growled. “But if I agree to take you out tomorrow afternoon, you will agree to stay inside my chambers unless otherwise instructed. Do you understand?”

Those sweet, alluring eyes turned callous in a matter of seconds.

“So, you intend to treat me like a dog? Like a pet?” she snapped, crossing her arms. “Actually, I take that back. You even treat your dogs better than that!”

As if proving her point, Ashera jumped up on the couch, laid down and covered her face with her paw, as if she felt his mate’s exasperation.

“Have you any idea what is at stake here?” he bit back. “I do not intend to treat you like a pet. I intend to keep you safe!”

“And you think by keeping me locked away, I’ll be safe? They all know where your chambers are, Eris. I’m no safer here than I am anywhere else in this manor!”

“At least, I’ll know where you are! Do you have any idea how worried I was when I went to find you earlier and you weren’t here?”

Her eyes widened and her arms fell limp at her sides. “You… you were worried?”

Eris tossed his arms in the air, letting out a noise of frustration. “Of course, I was worried. Do you know how many enemies I have in this court? Do you know how many people would wish to harm you if they had the chance just to hurt me?”

“I thought…” She paused, rubbing her arm.

Eris glared down at her. “You thought what? Go on, bunny, tell me what that little mind of yours thought?”

“I thought you were mad! And can you blame me?” she huffed up at him. “You treat me like a nuisance, insult me any chance you get! Why the hell would I ever think you were worried about me? I’m sure you’d just be so over the moon if someone did get rid of me! Since I’m such a burden.”

There were a lot of things in life Eris regretted but calling his mate a burden this morning was now on the top of that list. He hadn’t meant it. Of course, he hadn’t. She just didn’t understand the severity of the situation. He didn’t want to be mean to her or to have her hate him… but if it kept her safe, then so be it. At least, that had been his train of thought. But seeing the hurt on her face when those words had come out of his mouth had nearly killed him.

“I’m sorry, okay,” Eris groaned. “I’m sorry I called you that. It’s not true. It was never true but bunny…you really don’t understand…”

“No, Eris, I do,” she snarled. “I’m not as stupid or naive as everyone likes to think I am!”

“Not naive?” Eris mocked. “Then what do you call galavanting around the Forest House with one of my own brothers?”

“Your brother was fine,” his mate replied. “He was perfectly polite. All he did was show me around a bit and then take me to the library as I requested.”

Eris scoffed. “You don’t know him like I do.”

“You know what’s funny? That is the exact thing my sisters would say about me and yet they have no idea who I am. They’ve never let me be anything other than the girl they think I am. Have you thought that perhaps this competition your father has you all so convinced of between you guys doesn’t even exist? Have you ever even tried talking to one another without your father’s influence?”

She wasn’t wrong but Eris knew how deep his father had his claws in his brothers. It would take a lot to shake them from his grasp. Time and effort he wasn’t afforded with at the moment. Not when he constantly had to look over his shoulder and now had to keep his mate safe at all times. This court was corrupt and dangerous—everyone here was in survival mode.

These hypotheticals might be worth a discussion and if it were up to him, he would’ve taken his mother and younger brothers far away from his father a long time ago. But alas, he did not have such power…yet. But perhaps things could change. Though, nothing would so long as his father still sat on the Autumn throne. Until then, these sorts of conversations were not worth the time.

“You speak on things you have no knowledge about and I see little point in having this conversation with you,” Eris said, straightening out his lapels. “I have a meeting I must attend with my father. Stay here.”

And then he left swiftly, before his mate could see just how much her words affected him, before he grabbed her and winnowed as far from this court as he could—consequences be damned. She drove him absolutely mad but Gods, did he find her so enticing. She was wild and impulsive and had a lot to learn, but the sort of honesty and hopeful outlook she had…Well he could only hope he could protect that, hoped he could keep her sweet and kind and soft and all the things no one had ever allowed him to be.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You had just woken up when your two handmaidens, Willow and Ivy, entered the room, pestering you to get up. Bleary eyed, you let them drag you into the bath before they sat you in front of the vanity. Ivy braided your hair while Willow dusted some light makeup on your face.

“Can I ask what you are prepping me for?”

“Lord Eris has requested that we get you ready for an afternoon trek on horseback,” Ivy answered, with a slight smile on her face.

Your eyes widened, taken aback. You hadn’t spoken to Eris since your fight yesterday. In fact, he had never even returned to his chambers last night. You didn’t try to leave, in fear that you would find the door locked and all your worries of the kind of male you were mated to would be proven true. Instead, you had pretended that a night in was just what you wanted, begrudgingly following his command.

They dressed you in an off the shoulder linen chemise and flowy skirt that fell to your shins before lacing you into a burnt orange corset that had your lungs screaming for air. They slipped a pair of brown leather boots onto your feet.

“Surely trousers would be more appropriate?” you asked, spinning around so your skirt swished around the tops of your boots. Ivy and Willow gasped at your words, placing a hand over their hearts.

“A lady should never be seen in trousers,” Ivy declared, aghast.

Their shock was humorous to you, so you bit your lip to keep from laughing. Gods, the Autumn Court was so backwards sometimes. You were getting better at choosing your battles, so you said nothing else as they led you out of Eris’s chambers to the horse stables.

Eris stood there next to another male who was preparing two horses. Your mouth dried a bit at the sight of him. He was wearing a loosely tied tunic, tucked into brown breeches and a pair of riding boots. His red hair glimmered in the sun like a ruby gem, his pale skin nearly glowing. He looked as if the Autumn forest made him itself.

You hadn’t realized you had paused in your steps until your two handmaidens giggled next to you.

“You are a very lucky female, Lady Y/n,” Ivy whispered to you with another giggle, causing your cheeks to turn pink.

“Lord Eris is a very lucky male to have someone as lovely as Lady Y/n as his mate,” Willow countered, which only made your blush deepen.

Eris noticed you as you drew closer and his eyes trailed over your form, heat swirling in them. You felt goosebumps rise on your skin under his gaze. His fox-like face was so beautiful, so enchanting, it was hard to look away. You kept eye contact with him as your handmaidens presented you.

“Lady Archeron, as you requested, my Lord,” Willow said as she curtsied.

“Thank you, ladies, you may continue on with the rest of your duties,” he said to them, though he didn’t stop looking at you which caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. The two girls sauntered off, their giggles heard until they rounded the corner.

You wanted to be mad at him still, but this seemed like a sort of peace offering or apology for yesterday. One that you decided to accept. You walked forward until you were at his side, glancing at the large horses.

“This is Marigold. She is our most well-mannered horse,” Eris said. “Go on, you can pet her. She won’t bite.”

“I’ve never ridden a horse, my Lord,” you said, shyly, reaching out a hand to pet the one in front of you.

Eris seemed surprised but made no comment on it. He simply turned to the stableboy and waved a hand at him. “One horse will do today, Landon.”

“Oh, are you going to teach—”

You squeaked as Eris grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto the horse as if you weighed nothing, your cheeks turning bright red. A moment later, he lifted himself onto the horse, right behind you. The butterflies in your stomach were worked into a frenzy as his long legs encompassed you and your back was pressed against his firm chest.

“Yes, bunny, I’m going to teach you,” Eris whispered, his breath dancing along the edge of your pointed ear. You could hear the smirk in his voice, as if he knew exactly the kind of reaction he was causing inside of you.

“Is this not improper?” you asked. “Aren’t ladies supposed to sit with both their legs on one side?”

It had been a hard transition for you—to go from living in poverty in that tiny cottage to living in high society. You weren’t like your other sisters who had spent their childhood years being trained to be ladies. You could hardly remember any part of your life before your mother died.

It was, perhaps, why you felt the closet to Feyre of all your sisters. Because she, too, was wild in a way that Elain and Nesta weren’t.

“Something tells me you have no concern over how ladylike you are, bunny,” Eris chuckled, his hard chest rumbling against your back. Your cheeks flared up again and you tossed him a glare over your shoulder.

“Everyone else seems so concerned about my virtue and image,” you hissed.

“Well, I’m not,” Eris retorted. “Go on, grab the reins.”

You hesitantly wrapped your fingers around the leather straps and nearly jolted in surprise as Eris’s placed his calloused hands on top of yours. He started to maneuver your fingers. “You want to keep your thumbs on top and your fingers closed around them.”

Once he seemed satisfied, he tapped the horse on the side and she began her trot. You bit your lip as his hands slid off the reins and on to your thighs. “Relax your legs, bunny. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall off.”

You hadn’t realized how much you were squeezing the poor horse until he lightly stroked your thighs, getting them to loosen before his hands slid to your waist instead.

"What do I do with these?” You asked, nodding towards the reins in your hands.

“Nothing for now,” Eris answered. “You use them to steer or to get her to stop.”

His proximity to you and the tiny circles he absentmindedly rubbed on your waist with his thumbs caused your body to hyperfocus on all the places you were touching. You could hardly pay attention to his instructions and the more the two of you continued on, the more you found yourself relaxing into his chest—soaking in the heat that seemed to exude off his body.

Once you seemed to get the hang on the basics, a soft silence fell between the two of you. The sounds of the forest came alive the deeper you traveled into the trees. It was truly beautiful out here. The red and orange leaves on the trees reminded you of the painting Feyre had done on your drawer on the dresser back when you were living in the cottage.

“I’m sorry,” Eris whispered into your ear, breaking the silence and surprising you. “For yesterday.”

You softened at his words. “It’s okay.”

“No,” he said, his grip on your waist tightening. “It wasn’t okay. It pained me to hear you say I think of you as a nuisance, as something to get rid of. It is simply not true, bunny and I’m sorry for ever making you believe I think that.”

Eris didn’t seem like the type of male to apologize for his actions, so it meant more to hear it from him.

“I just wish you would stop trying to push me away. I’m tired of everyone always deciding what's best for me instead of trusting me to know it myself,” you sighed.

“I know and I’m sorry. I know how unseen you feel.”

He seemed to see right through you. Was it the mating bond that allowed such a thing? Or was it just something you had in common? No one had ever looked closely at you. You were the baby of the family, never allowed to be involved in decisions or important things. You lived in your own world most of the time.

Although Eris was brought up in a far different environment than you, you couldn’t help but think he felt the same way. That he was constricted and forced to play a role he had no wish to. That he was written off as arrogant and cruel simply because he was born under a male who was.

But he was nothing like his father.

“I know you do because I know you feel the same way, Eris,” you whispered, glancing back at him. ��But I see you.”

“Perhaps that scares me.” His amber eyes were still guarded as he looked down at you. “No one has ever looked before. No one has ever wanted to.”

“I do,” you said, holding his gaze. “I want to.”

It was silent for a moment and you twisted back around, staring at the forest ahead.

“You shouldn’t,” Eris said, so quietly, that you were certain he was talking to himself. But despite his words, a tension had been lifted between the two of you.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

A little while later and after several whines about her legs starting to hurt, Eris let his mate have a break. He helped her off Marigold and found a tree to tie the horse to so the two of them could walk for a bit.

He kept a step behind her, watching as she spun in a circle, the leaves crunching beneath her boots, as she took in the forest. The wonder and excitement in her eyes caused a spark in his chest. Those things had long since been beaten out of him so it was nice to see them in someone he already cared so deeply about.

Eris enjoyed being out here with her, away from the Forest House and everyone else. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he kept his guard up to protect his wonderfully oblivious mate from any harm that might come her way.

“It’s so beautiful here,” his mate whispered.

The sunlight casted gold rays of light through the leaves, illuminating her beautiful face. She looked made for this kind of place, for Autumn. His chest ached at the sight—at what could be if his father wasn’t such a conniving bastard.

“It is,” Eris said softly, his amber eyes still trained on his mate. She peeked over her shoulder at him, blushing as she met his gaze. Gods, if he were a lesser male, he’d have shoved her up against a tree and claimed her as his already.

“Hey, I have an idea!”

“I’m sure you do,” he chuckled and she whirled around, placing her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He shook his head, biting back a smile. “Nothing. What is your idea, bunny?”

“We should play a game,” she said. “Like hide and seek.”

Eris snorted. “Hide and seek? What are we, children? I’m over five hundred years old, bunny, I’m not going to play games with you.”

“Fine, suit yourself,” she shrugged. “But I guess that means you’ll have to return to the Forest House without me unless of course…you find me.”

And then she darted off into the trees, weaving her way out of his view. He expected to find himself irritated, but it was the opposite. He couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped from his mouth at how ridiculous his mate was. Ridiculous and brash—but so endearing.

“You can’t hide from me, bunny,” he shouted into the trees.

Silence met his ears and then…a twig snapped in the distance. He sauntered off in the direction of the noise. He would entertain her absurd game but he would not be running off like some wild beast through the forest. He followed her enticing scent of harvest apples and forest pine, twisting through the tall trees and leaf-covered ground.

He saw a flash of her hair from the corner of his eye and spun in place, listening for her footsteps. He continued following after her, getting small glimpses of her here and there, hearing the tiny giggles that seemed to echo in the silent forest and he realized that a small smile had grown on his face as the game went on.

Until things went so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. He froze, sniffing the air. He could still smell her but where had she gone? He spun in place, looking for footprints and listening for any sounds but…nothing. His heart started to beat faster in his chest, suddenly worried she had run off too far.

“Bunny,” he shouted. “You can come out now!”

Nothing.

The smile on his face dropped and he continued his search. Had she ran into some creature that took her? Had his guard fallen so low that he hadn’t realized that someone else was out here?

“Hey, bunny—fuck!”

Something ran straight into his back and wrapped their arms around his neck, making him stagger forward. He turned around and pinned them against the tree with a snarl so quickly he hadn’t even realized what exactly had knocked into him until he heard the familiar giggles and his mate’s scent washed over him.

“Got you!”

She was staring up at him with wide, excited eyes—her face flushed from her exertion. He stared at her in disbelief, uncertain how she was able to sneak up and ambush him like that. The hand that had wrapped itself around her throat moved to rest on the tree next to her head.

“And so the sly bunny ensnares the dumb fox,” she sang between her pants, her arms still around his neck, her back still pressed against the tree.

He let out a breath, staring down at her with a small glare. “That is not funny. I could’ve hurt you!”

“But you didn’t,” she countered, not seeming concerned about it at all. “I’m surprised I was able to sneak behind you. I thought for sure you saw me at one point. You looked right at me!”

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I was standing right there,” she laughed, pointing at a spot to their left. “And you looked right at me! I thought I was busted but I don’t know, Eris, you might be going blind with age.”

Her eyes held amusement as she looked up at him but he was confused. He had no idea what she was talking about—he hadn’t seen her at all. She had not been standing there. She must’ve been mistaking those trees for another.

“Very funny,” he said, deadpanned.

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” she teased, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, absentmindedly. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. Her body pressed against his fought against the control he had.

He wanted to knock the smug smile right off her face. He stepped closer, placing his free hand on her sternum and trapping her against the tree. He felt her breath hitch and grinned.

“I’m not the loser,” he purred, before leaning down to whisper in her ear, “You’re still ensnared by me, bunny. Not the other way around.”

Being this close to her again reminded him of all the ways he would take her and he let out a heavy breath, trying to keep from getting hard and scaring her away. Her head was tilted back so she could stare at him, her smile slipping as her heart pounded loudly enough that he could hear it through her chest. It seemed to beat in rhythm was his.

He was certain she was going to cave first. His other hand still rested against the tree next to her head, allowing her the chance to dip away if she wanted. Her cheeks turned pink and he was sure she was about to start stuttering like a girlish maiden as she usually did when she said something that absolutely surprised him.

“Maybe I want to be ensnared by you, Eris,” she whispered.

Heat spread through his body like a wildfire and he knew it exuded off of him by the way she melted into his touch, her eyes flickering down to his lips as she shuddered. She bit her lip and he growled, his hand moving up her sternum until it rested against her cheek. He plucked her lip free with his thumb and she met his gaze again—her eyes wide and innocent yet full of desire. He could feel her anticipation down the mating bond, which glowed like firelight between them, and he knew she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

The mating bond sang in his chest.

Mine….Mine….Mine…

She glanced down at his lips again and the look she gave him was enough to snap the last string holding his composure.

So he surged forward and passionately kissed her.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

One second you were thinking of how much you wished Eris would kiss you and the next second he was. His lips were soft, softer than you imagined, and so warm. Your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with the same fire and eagerness that had Eris groaning against your lips. The hand that was resting on your cheek moved to your neck and angled your head back farther so he could deepen the kiss.

One of your own hands slipped into his hair, tangling some red strands between your fingers as the butterflies in your stomach began their frenzy again. All thoughts seemed to cease at that moment. All you could feel was Eris’s body pressed against yours, his kiss so full of hunger that your knees almost buckled under the weight of it.

Your other hand slipped down to grab onto the collar of his tunic and yank him closer. He growled and bit down on your bottom lip; you gasped at the slight pain. He used that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth and his kiss turned crazed.

Fire sparked under your skin, so hot it threatened to consume you.

His hand slipped down to your thigh, yanking your leg up around his hip so he could press in closer to you—nailing you to the tree. The rough bark rubbed against your back, serving as a contrast to the softness of his lips on yours.

He devoured you, kissed you in a way no one ever had before. You didn’t fight for dominance. Not when it felt this good to surrender yourself to him. Heat and wetness pooled in your core—the evidence of his own arousal pressed firmly against your stomach as his tongue continued to explore every crevice in your mouth, claiming it as his.

Every inch of your skin was tingling as he pulled away and began to trail feverish kisses down your jaw and neck—giving you the chance to breathe for a moment. You whimpered as his canines nipped at the sensitive skin on your throat, marking you.

“Do you know how much I think of this?” Eris groaned against your skin, his nose trailing up the column of your throat. “Of ravishing you like this.”

“Y-you do?” You stuttered as his canines grazed your neck again—reminding you again that Eris was no human man. No, he was much more than that of a man. He wasn’t even a full High Lord yet and still, you could feel his power crackling around you like burning embers.

“Oh, bunny,” Eris purred, pulling back to look at you with that fox-like grin that had your knees weak again. “I think of you like this—at my mercy—all the damn time.”

He leaned down and kissed you again until your face was flushed, your lips swollen and your neck was full of love bites. The both of you were panting as he rested his forehead against yours, his amber eyes staring down at you with flame licking his irises, full of hunger and lust and longing.

You knew at that moment that you belonged to Eris because there was no way anyone else on this earth would make you feel as you did now. And you didn’t want there to be anyone else. No, your heart and mind sang for him and him only. No matter how things turned out, you knew they always would. It was scary and thrilling and daunting but it was true.

And by the way he stared down at you, you knew he felt it too.

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #eris fanfic #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris acotar #eris vandaddy

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fanartka · 3 months

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#doctor strange #stephen strange #marvel #doctor stephen strange #ironstrange #strangeiron #fox #oh for fox sake #fox strange #tony strange #bon appetite #pack #fox pack

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melonn-soda · 5 days

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❝GIDDY UP & GO!!... ❞

word count: 3.3k

warnings: subbot! male reader, domtop! boothill, genitals are not explicitly mentioned, grinding, no actual penetration, unnecessary descriptions how much there is of spit (sorry if ur not into that), predator/prey if u squint, nd gunplay if u squint really really hard (is implied), lots of pentnames, praise, save a horse ride a cowboy but I change a factor, cowboy hat rule because RRGHGHGRHRGHHGHGHG

prompt: boothill has made it his life mission to cash in the money he gets when he lands you behind bars. however, when it becomes apparent as to why you let him pursue you, he begins to chase you for an entirely different reason

notes: lost 50/50 to yanqing (he's still my kid nd I love him regardless YANQING HATERS LEAVE!!!!) when wishing for aventurine. now I'm pulling for boothill if I don't get my little gambler (if Sunday is playable and better than boothill then im sorry to my fav cowboy yeehaw) not beta read

fem aligned dni

“Oh, my.”

Boothill hates your guts. That’s a given.

He hates the way you carry yourself, the sly remarks you’ll make if you spot even one hint of insecurity, the slight draw on certain syllables to give a mocking tone- you, in general. Although he’s more on the bothering side than the bothered, you’re just so much more annoying than he thought even possible. Guess that’s why you’re known as a high-end bandit.

He’s been on your tail for weeks, chasing any leads (a lot of them, like you wanted the chase) he could get his hands on. He’s even seen you slinking around taverns, poker tables, run-down hotels- for fucks’ sake, even on horseback racing down a dirt path while attempting to rob a moving train. To feel the satisfaction of seeing the credits Boothill would obtain after putting you behind bars is all he wants to experience because this is just getting ridiculous.

So, why the hell now, is he bound up to the ceiling with chains thicker than his own ankle after finding your base?

The amused smile finds its way upon your lips and Boothill wants to do nothing more than to kick it right off. You were in a vulnerable position before he decided to sneak in, with your chair tipped as your feet were kicked up on a busted wooden table, a bandana resting over your eyes to block out the sunlight that dared to drift into the room. Boothill made the dumbest mistake by alerting you of his presence through triggering a well hidden trip-wire. Perking you up, you began to rise from your seat, swiftly removing the bandana from your eyes and fingers instinctively on the handle of your revolver that sat on the gun holster strapped to your thigh. The trap triggered so fast, Boothill’s sensors barely had time to react to it before the ‘snap!’s and ‘crack!’s echoed throughout the room and he was pressed against the ceiling within seconds.

Sharp glares were stabbing through your form as your hand rested on your hip as you whistled, looking up at the ranger in slight surprise and smugness. Aeons, he hated you.

“Wow, such a reckless move to jus’ prance yer way in here, no? Hey, aren't cha a Galaxy Ranger or somethin’?” You tease, swiveling your chair so that you could sit backwards on it, crossing your arms atop of the back rest so you could rest your chin on your forearms, “Surely, ya coulda suspected that I woulda set up a trap. But why waste all yer precious time on someone as measly as me? I ain’t nothin’ but a lil’ ol’ bandit.”

“You better seal yer pretty lil’ lips, doll.” Boothill hisses at you, his voicebank glitching to censor the words he so desperately wanted to say, “My bullets don’t take too kindly to sweet talkers n’ foxes.”

A laugh echoes throughout the falling apart structure then settles into a hum as you stand up and kick the chair against the wall, “Ya sure like to talk big. Kinda fits ya, though.” The chair slams right under Boothill and you slowly make your way towards it, the clinking of spurs on your boots highlighting every step you take.

Looking up at the suspended robot, your left foot raises and rests on the seat, leaning in to provoke the cyborg even further, “It’s kinda cute how ya keep pursuin’ me despite all these failed attempts. How ‘bout I give ya more of a reason to keep chasin’ me than only doin’ it for jus’ the credits?”

Boothill’s eyebrows creased in suspicion as your hand raises up to his face, contemplating just biting your fingers straight off until he hears the click of the safety and a metal barrel against the human skin of his jaw. His teeth clench in anger as you nearly laugh at his compliance, reaching above his head and snatching his hat right off.

Oh, he was going to kill you for sure-

The hat plops onto your head and you wink at him while sticking your tongue out.

What.

There wasn’t-

There was no way.

“Catch me if ya can, cowboy.” You say dismissively, briskly turning around and walking out of the rundown hideout. However, before you could get out of his line of sight, your head turned to face him and you said, “I’ll be waitin’. As always.”

Dumbfounded and a half an hour later collapsed on the floor from the wooden boards snapping- which loosened the chains, he replays that minute over and over again. He didn’t want to believe that had actually happened but his memory told him otherwise.

There was no way that you...

Whatever. He’ll think about it later. He needs to get his damn hat back.

The first time Boothill finds you, it’s in a more forest-y area. You’re on your trusty steed, talking to some other criminals with little interest. The cowboy watches the interaction, paying special attention to your reactions to see if you’ve noticed his presence. From what he could tell, you didn’t seem to see that he was watching while using the shrubbery to cover him and the horse he was on. The people you were talking to he recognized from some wanted posters, only worth some credits. Not as much as your bounty, though.

...

...You’re still wearing his hat.

“Look, partner,” Your voice dips into an exhausted, low, sigh, “I need that shipment as soon as possible, ya hear? I ain’t got too much time left before she’s reached her time. Ion care how ya get it, I need it in at least a week! Otherwise she’ll get real snappy and I’m gonna hafta put some lead in some poor person's head.”

One of the bandits flashes a worried look to another, “Boss, ya don’t understand! The Xianshou Luofu’s been havin’ sum sorta delay! We ain’t gonna get those packages ‘til some long period of time!”

Boothill’s interest peaks as you begin to snap, “Did ya not hear me? I said, ‘Ion care how ya get them!’ Find a way! Talk to that Trailblazer everyone’s been praisin’ about or somethin’! Jus’ get me my stuff before ‘m gonna start blowin’ some brains out-”

A rustle causes you to pause your sentence as you draw your weapon immediately, the barrel facing his direction and bullets fly. Boothill’s horse had begun to munch on the bush, which gave away his position, but thankfully he moved quick enough to get out of the way.

You decided to book it when you caught sight of the familiar white and black hair, spurs hitting the sides of your horse as you begin to get out of the area to leave nothing but a trail of dust. Boothill doesn’t hesitate to race after you, whipping the reins of his horse to get her going.

Branches and twigs tug at Boothill’s hair as he chases you through the forest, lowering his torso so that he could lessen the wind resistance as his horse’s hooves slam against the ground. You’re quite the distance away, mostly because your horse is pretty speedy. It’s how you get away from crime scenes so fast. However, Nellie, the horse Boothill is riding currently, is also quite fast.

Although, not fast enough because in the end, he still loses you.

The curses he spits all get censored immediately as he slows into a stop, head turning in every direction to see if you left any trail behind. Only to see none. Didn’t expect as much from a skilled criminal.

The second time he spots you is in the tavern, playing a game of poker with people that had their pockets stuffed full of cash. ‘Rich folk,’ Boothill grimaces as he could see them tilt their chin up like the world owes them something. If you rob them, he won’t feel even a sliver of remorse.

He knows that you can see him as he leans against the wall to watch the match, some of the rich getting intensively frustrated as they begin to fold after betting so high. Judging by the scheming smile on your face, he could tell you have a winning hand. Then again, when are you never smiling like you have something up your sleeve?

Finally, in the showdown, you and the person you’re going up against reveal your cards and you win with a four of a kind. Lucky.

The people at the table groan and push their chips in your direction, getting up to leave as their attitudes have just been soured over that singular match. Boothill takes the opportunity to walk over to you and remove the gun from his holster and press it right up against your lower back, hand coming up to snatch his hat that rests atop your head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

A window shatters behind him and he could hear flames begin to roar but he doesn’t dare tear his eyes away from you. Only when he feels cold metal press against the nape of his neck does his actions falter and his eyes turn to face whoever decided to draw their weapon.

He blinks in shock to see a figure completely made of water, his gaze returning to you and seeing you sitting on the edge of the table with your gun pressed against his forehead. Shit. He’s lost again.

The tavern completely surrenders to the flames as people scream at the sight of fire, swallowing up the alcohol and wood. Boothill can hear his fans whirring to prevent himself from overheating but the attempt is futile as the room begins to get unbearably hot. He’s not sure if it’s just the fire that’s causing him to overheat or it’s because you look insanely good with all this red and orange light.

...

What is he even thinking right now?

“Y’know, it’s gettin’ real fun toyin’ with ya, cowboy.” You speak, completely unbothered by all the heat in the building. He can’t even see a single drop of sweat on your face. Even so, you continue, “But I think ya can do a little better than this.”

The ranger’s lips purse in offense, glaring at you as best as he could. The gun you had pointed lazily at his forehead falls to the floor and Boothill isn’t sure how long he can last in this heat. Before his system could finally shut down because of overheating, he could feel your lips press against the area where your gun was pressed up against. Then, he falls over as his system forcibly turns him off.

The third time Boothill sees you, he’s lying on a metal workbench with cold water floating above him and fans blowing in his direction. He’s confused, obviously, and on his toes as he realizes he’s not in an area he’s not familiar with. He attempts to sit up to find a way to escape only to realize that he can’t move his arm. Now, he’s terrified.

“Relax, cowboy.” Your voice coos from behind a computer, typing away at something as you're taking a tip from a glass. Presumably water. “I’m cooling ya off. You’re welcome... You should be able to move now.”

Boothill shoots up from his spot and rips off the cables that are attached to his left arm, head darting around to look for his gun. He hears a click and once again finds himself with a gun pressed up against his jaw.

“Lookin’ for this?”

The crosshair that replaces his once human pupils flit over to your direction, noticing that you were holding his revolver in your dominant hand. Boothill swears that you must like pointing a barrel in his direction for how many times this has been done. He also sees that you’re wearing his very cropped jacket over your usual attire. ... And you’re still wearing his hat.

“That’s mine, pretty boy.” The ranger gives you a half-assed growl as his censor kicks in once more, already getting annoyed at your sly behaviour, “Ya really got a knack for takin’ stuff that’s not yours, huh? No wonder yer a criminal.”

You giggle at his words, tossing his gun on the metal workbench, “It’s not loaded, neither is your little gun hand.” You tell him, like he was going to start unloading mags into your skin. Turning around, you walk back to your computer and open up a drawer on the desk it sits on, “Well?” You ask after a momentary silence, leaning on one of your legs as you crack open a bottle of whiskey and begin to pour it into your empty glass.

“‘Well’, what?” Boothill narrows his eyes at you, picking up his revolver and shoving it back into his thigh holster. He’ll just have to go to the nearest mechant and buy more bullets.

“Ain’t ya gonna, I don’t know, take yer hat back?” You ask him, taking a sip of the alcohol that gives a slight burn down your throat, “We’re in an enclosed space, barely any room t’move around, exit’s right behind ya ‘n all. Perfect chance t’arrest me, if I dare so say m’self.”

He blinks. There’s got to be some sort of trap if the setup is this perfect. He’s not going to make the same mistake he did before, not again. So, his sensors scan the room quickly, which leaves you unamused, and he sees that there are in fact no traps in this room. Boothill almost doesn’t want to believe it.

“Are ya playin’ some sort of game with me?” Boothill’s eyes begin to squint in suspicion, carefully trying to think of a situation you might pull that puts him on the losing end of the stick, “Yer jus’ gonna let yourself get arrested? Jus’ like that?”

“What? Ya don’t wanna do it? Too scared?” You taunt him again, causing the cowboy’s circuits to boil in animosity.

“Ya know what?” Boothill smiles a tense one, taking long, menacing steps in your direction, “I’ve ‘bout had it with your attitude, pretty boy. Seems like ya didn’t have anybody ta teach ya proper manners.” All of a sudden, you felt yourself being slammed up against the wall behind you with a grunt, Boothill’s right hand keeping your wrists together and his left hand tilting your chin up to look at him, his eyes glowing a dangerous red, “I mean, after that stunt ya pulled in yer lil’ base, it seems like ya wanna be caught by me.”

“Hah.. guilty as charged.” You laugh, attempting to keep your smooth facade up, only for it to crack once you could feel his metal knee nudge between your thighs. A whine rips through your throat as he keeps his knee still, not bothering to give you the pleasure you oh so wanted from the day you saw him.

“How ‘bout it, doll?” Boothill sneers at your pathetic expression, lips getting dangerously close to yours, “I can give ya a better punishment than jail could.”

One thing’s for sure: Boothill’s mechanical body does not have any built in... pleasure devices, he’s nearly as smooth as a doll. However, there is a slightly large bump on his pelvis in the shape of an oval that if you were to grind just right up against, you’ll-

“O-oh!”

Boothill’s lips curve up into a smirk as he sees you push down hard against his metallic form, trying to settle your trembles by wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to stabilize yourself. It’s cute, he thinks, seeing you all desperate for sexual relief. The way you hopelessly cling to him like he’s the last thing keeping you alive. He can’t believe he actually thought about putting you behind bars if getting you wrapped around his finger was this satisfying.

“How’s it feel, pretty boy?” Boothill whispers in your ear, causing a shiver to rack your spine as his grip adjusts to settle on your lower waist, pushing you even further against him, “Feel like yer gonna explode yet?”

Whimpering in response, your shaky fingertips grip onto his shoulders as your forehead now presses against his. Soft pants fill the room and Boothill can practically see the hearts in your eyes as your hips continue to move against his. You both still have your clothes on but this all still feels so intimate, probably better than actual penetration.

The ranger’s hand reaches up to tug his hat that still rests on your head, fixing it back from its tilted state, “Ya look like ya wanna kiss, doll.” He teases, bringing your chin closer to the point where your noses brushed up against one another.

“Pl-please..” You say breathily, gently tugging at his hair.

“Attaboy.” Boothill snickers in response, “Looks like yer finally learning.” His freakishly long tongue slithers past his lips as soon as they press against yours, slipping into your mouth as saliva begins to spill down your chin. Aeons, you’re just so cute.

Soft moans are swallowed up by Boothill’s greedy mouth, his thumb coming up to pull against your bottom lip before he pulls away and the only thing that connects your mouths is the thin trail of spit. His robotic thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing against your tongue as drool continues to spill down your pretty lips. He could get used to this.

He notices how much faster your hips move, calculating that you were close as whines and whimpers flood the room. The smile on Boothill’s face only widens even further, bumping his hips up to catch you off guard. He knows he succeeds when he hears a shaky squeak come from your mouth.

“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Ya gonna bust?” The ranger sneers, the thumb in your mouth shifting so he widens your lips by pushing at the sides, “Y’know, I could easily deny ya of that relief. Ya kinda deserve it for teasin’ me this whole time.”

You shake your head violently, already too close to be pulled away now. Boothill snickers in response, “No? What makes ya think you can tell me what to do?” A pleading look flashes across your features and Boothill has half the decency to make you beg for release. He decides to have mercy on you, though, “Mmmn, I mean, I guess ya have been pretty obedient. Go on and blow yer load f’me, pretty.”

With a shudder and a slight bite on Boothill’s metal thumb, your pants get soaked in your fluids, staining the fabric. Your hips jerk a couple of times to ride out your orgasm then you started slumping onto his chest in exhaustion. Boothill’s other hand rubs at your hip to soothe you, letting you rest in place to calm the trembles that still cause your body to twitch in overstimulation.

“Good boy.” He says softly, pulling his thumb out of your mouth, watching as it dripped since it was slick with your spit. Letting you catch your breath for a moment, he waits before he decides to ask, “So, what package were ya waitin’ for?”

“Baby stuff.” You sigh, face burying into Boothill’s neck, “My sister’s expecting ‘nd her wife’s been tellin’ me to get that stuff as soon as possible. The Luofu has been delaying their packages for a bit, somethin’ about shippin’ difficulties. Can’t believe ya’d remember something like that, though.”

The cowboy huffs in response, “Bein’ a cyborg’s got some perks. The only bad part is that ion got a dick to fuck ya with. Woulda been nice to see ya unable to walk for a few days.”

You sit up and give him a weird look, hands resting on his shoulders, “Ya do know strap-ons exist, right?” The way you said that made him feel much stupider, like you were pointing out the obvious to him.

“...Oh.” Boothill’s face flushes embarrassingly hot as his fans kick in once more.

Aeons, he hated you.

#x male reader #male reader #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader

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yearning-for-autumn · 3 months

Text

Would That I -- Part 11

A/N: God this took me aaages to get to a point where I liked it. But here we goooo, finally some interaction between reader and Eris! Thank you so much for your support on Part 1, there will be one more part after this. I hope you enjoy! Based on an amazing ask from @fandomsmultiverse who has the best ideas.

Pairing: Eris x Illyrian!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, masturbation (male), oral sex

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 3

Were you jealous?

You could have thrown the letter into the fire. There was no need for a signature for you to know exactly who it was from, and you seethed. After he had kissed her neck, Eris had proposed to Nesta. Proposed. And yet here he was, writing letters, crawling back to you. Imagining him on his hands and knees, grovelling, soothed the hurt somewhat.

You re-read the letter again and again, losing yourself in ever worsening fantasies of Eris begging at your feet.

How dare he.

It stung all the more knowing your answer, deep down, was yes. Knowing that when you had locked eyes with your mate—your mate—all you could feel was the cold sting of envy. He was yours. You hated him. You needed him. You wanted him dead.

You crumpled the letter, then unfurled it and put it in a box, kicking it under your bed.

Cauldron damn and burn him.

The next week you received another letter.

Your silence tells me everything, little fox. And here I was thinking that you hated me. Send my regards to Lucien, I hear he has taken to sheltering in your dingy court.

You huffed an angry breath. But you read it over and over, searching for something. Something to be truly mad about. You came up short. Lucien was spending more and more time at the house of wind these days. Avoiding Elain. You had found a firm friendship trying to help him settle more in Velaris. Cauldron knows your brothers weren’t doing enough to help.

You found him in the living room, reading.

“Your brother sends his regards.” You said, watching intently for his reaction. His metal eye whirred as he looked up from his book.

“Hello to you too.” He said after a pause. “Which brother?”

“Eris.”

“Ah.”

You waited for him to say something more, but it never came. You sat down next to him biting your fingernail, debating whether to let him see the letter.

“Read this. Please.” You said, thrusting it into his hands. He read it, looked up at you, then back down at the letter. His lips curled into a grin.

“Oh, he’s practically begging for you.” He said, still grinning. You scoffed and grabbed the letter from his hands.

“He hates me. And I hate him.” You said decidedly. Lucien stifled a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Ok. So he’s writing you letters for you to...burn, I presume? Just to get you all riled up?” He bit his lip when he saw your murderous expression. “My brother wouldn’t be writing to you if he wasn’t interested in you. Rhysand told me about the ball, about how you were staring.”

“He proposed to Nesta that night, not me.” You said.

“Ah, so you are jealous.” Lucien teased. You growled.

“You are not helping.”

“Sorry.” He apologised, though he didn’t look remorseful, “I don’t know what you want me to say. My brother ruined my life, forced me to watch my love be killed and now he’s mated to someone who hates him. Seems like fair retribution. Send him my love of course.”

He was joking, but you saw through his mask of indifference. His unharmed eye revealed much more than you suspected he knew. He was pleading to speak to his brother. Despite your better judgement, you resolved to write Eris back, if only for Lucien’s sake. Excusing yourself to your room, you picked up your pen and paper.

Lucien sends his love in return. In future, if you wish to speak with your brother I suggest you contact him directly.

It disappeared into the ether and you stared at your desk. Another letter landed in front of you before you could get up. You blinked in surprise. You had spent so long hating this male that you had never spoken directly, reports of his cruelty coming second hand, and yet here he was, his handwriting so hurried you could have sworn he was excited you had written back.

Unlike you, Lucien would burn his letters. I will let myself believe Lucien sent his love sincerely, please let him know I wish to see him. I also wish to invite you to dine with me.

Why in all the realms would I dine with you?

You are my mate, are you not? It has snapped for you also. I saw how you stared at the ball. Nesta is a beautiful female, but you should know I am not the unfaithful type.

You have no one to be faithful to.

You wrote back, cruelty flowing onto the paper. It felt good for a moment, before the bond soured it. You stared at the letters piling up with increasing disdain. Who did he think he was, acting as if you were already his. His reply popped onto your desk moments later.

There you are, unfortunately, most correct, little fox.

---

Eris spent the next few days in agony. He had never expected you to write back, but after seeing the hunger in your eyes that night… If there was any chance you had changed your mind about him, he would be in the Night Court in a heartbeat. Rhysand had been keeping all diplomatic matters at arms length, not allowing any visitation into Velaris. Eris was no stranger to the territorial behaviour of a male with a pregnant wife.

On that note, he was supposed to be shopping to find a gift for his nephew today. He whistled for Cheddar, who brought along Lulu, his youngest. Eris rolled his eyes.

“Ok, Lulu can come too if she must. But both of you will have to be on a short lead.” He said, mostly to himself, but Cheddar cocked her head in an inquisitive gesture that made Eris grin, rubbing her head with both hands.

He was in a small toy shop, full of handmade stuffed bears and wooden doll houses, when the letter appeared unceremoniously in his hands. Excusing himself outside, he slunk into a nearby alleyway to read it.

Lucien has agreed to see you.

Was all it read. His heart leapt into his throat. He scribbled a response on a scrap of spare paper in his pocket and it vanished from his hands before he had time to regret it. The response was immediate.

Rhysand will allow you in Velaris for two hours under strict supervision from Lucien. Tomorrow at noon.

Eris tried to catch his breath, not wanting to admit to himself how overjoyed he was that his baby brother wanted to see him. Not only that, but he was granted permission to enter the Night Court, Velaris for that matter, where you would surely be. He pet Lulu gently, grounding himself. Now to think of an excuse as to why he would be absent from Court tomorrow. In the shop, he picked out a soft brown bear with a doe eyed expression, letting himself believe it was because his nephew loved bears, and not because its glossy eyes reminded him of you.

Beron took the lie surprisingly well; any dealings with the Night Court were beneficial to Autumn, which was dangerously close to having few allies in Prythian. Beron liked Kier, and whilst he looked down on them, appreciated the brutality of the Illyrian armies. Night would be a strong ally indeed. If only he knew exactly where their loyalties lay.

Eris laid in bed, the window ajar, unable to sleep, thinking of you. His mind straying to that night in the Hewn City, how you looked in your silken gown, back deliciously low to show off your magnificent wings. You had been downright sinful, and he had had to remind himself to keep his eyes on Nesta, who, whilst stunning, held no candle to you that night. Not to him. He ran a hand down his chest as his cock stirred.

Memories consumed him. The heat of the ballroom. Trailing his eyes all the way up the slit in your dress, dragging his gaze to the top of your thigh, no panty line visible. His hand grasped his cock through his slacks as he imagined peeling the fabric back to reveal your unclothed cunt, and he squeezed hard as he saw himself drop to his knees.

“No panties?” His voice was husky. You gave a coy smile,

“Wanted you to have me, Eris.” You breathed. “Wanted you to taste how much I need you.”

Unbuttoning his slacks and freeing his cock, Eris hissed as he pumped his already dripping length. Your pussy would make a delectable mess of your thighs, drooling just for him. He licked his lips and fucked his hand harder as he fantasised. Your moans would be music to his ears as he messily ate you out, tongue laving across your swollen clit, sucking and nibbling as your thighs shook with pleasure.

Debauched sounds filled the room, the wet shlick of his cock becoming the squelching wetness of your pussy as he finally sunk his fingers deep inside of you. He wanted your hands in his hair. He wanted to guide you down onto the floor so that he could feast on you properly, drink you down, consume you. You would cry out, just the thought of it had him squeezing the base of his cock to keep from cumming too soon. His hips bucked into his fist at a punishing pace, his eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in pleasure.

The bond was thrumming like drums in his chest, heightening every feeling as his thick member pulsed, spurting precum into his hand. It didn’t take long until he growled, his whole body tensing and his cock painting his stomach white with his seed. When he groaned out in pained pleasure, it was your name on his lips.

---

You stood by Lucien’s side, the redhead almost vibrating with nervousness.

“Remind me why I let you talk me into this?” He asked. You smiled gently, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Because you want to see him. I could tell the moment I gave you that letter. You’re happy he still thinks of you.”

“It’s complicated.” He groused, “We haven’t spoken properly in decades. What if—what if he’s not the male I remember?” You felt your heart break at Lucien’s words, cursing yourself for meddling in his relationships. You just wanted to see him. Once more. To confirm that your hatred was justified. But you pushed that aside, feeling terrible for dragging Lucien into your little game.

“Lucien, he’s your brother. I know you haven’t been feeling so settled here lately, I think seeing him will do you some good.” It was the best you could do, unable to tell him for certain that the Eris you knew was the same doting brother he had told you about. You squeezed his arm and were relieved to feel him relax.

“Will you stay with me, just for a bit?” He asked. You wanted to say no, but you couldn’t, not to Lucien. You smiled at him gently.

“Of course I will. Just don’t expect me to have anything nice to say.” He laughed, but his bright smile faded as he spotted Eris walking up the path, escorted by a deadly looking Azriel. Your breath caught in your chest when you saw your mate, impeccably dressed and ruggedly handsome. Your eyes lingered for a moment too long. Azriel shot you a warning glare, then winnowed away. Eris, finally free of his chaperone, looked at Lucien and you felt nervousness wash down the bond. He dug in his bag and pulled out two small boxes.

“Lucien.” He said.

“Eris.”

“Mother baked apple cinnamon biscuits. They are—were your favourite.” He handed one of the boxes to Lucien, who took it with so much care it could have contained something much more valuable.

Eris turned to you, “I also brought you something.”

Surprised, you were handed a little box of your own. You peeked inside and heat rushed to your cheeks. A small dagger, with jewel encrusted hilt lay on a bed of luxurious velvet. A courting gift. You looked at him incredulously. He was here to see his brother, he hated the very thought of you, why in all the realms was he bringing you courting gifts.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You frowned, looking down at the dagger as if it had offended you.

“Usually they’re used for stabbing people.” Eris said, with a mask of cool calm betrayed by a tightness in your chest that didn’t belong to you, “But I suppose it would make a pretty kitchen accessory, should you wish.” He quipped. You rolled your eyes.

“I am not a housewife.” You sneered.

“No. That’s not what—” Lucien cleared his throat and saved you from whatever Eris was about to say next.

“Let me show you around Velaris.” He said, diffusing the tension. “It’s not often outsiders are allowed to just waltz in.”

“Of course,” Eris said, “Will you be joining us?” He asked. You shook your head.

“I will spare you the agony, Vanserra.” You turned to leave, but looked back at Lucien, “Do not let him out of your sight. Rhys will have my head if he does anything stupid.”

As soon as you were a few feet away you felt you could breathe easily again. The bond had been simmering, thrilled at your proximity to your mate. It was a constant buzzing and humming in your chest. You were relieved you could no longer feel it, and made sure to send that feeling loud and clear down the connection between you and your mate.

---

In the following three days you received: A small wheel of cheese, a bouquet of marigolds and a pair of amber earrings. Lucien couldn’t stop laughing when he presented you with the cheese, but it had been amazing with some salt and pepper crackers that evening.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt when Lucien came the next day with another box. He was grinning wildly, barely stifling his laughter.

“I think this might be the worst one yet.” He said, thrusting the box into your hands, “Please open it.”

Eris had been sending the gifts through Lucien, and, like the letters, you had been hiding them from the rest of your family. It felt bad, going behind your brothers backs. But they could never find out that Eris was attempting to court you, for his sake and theirs. Lucien and Eris had managed to start talking again, over the constant gifts and letters. As annoying as it was, you were glad some good had come of it. Though he hadn’t been allowed in the Night Court again.

Lucien was practically rocking on his heels. Inside the box was a knitted headband. It was poorly made, full of holes and oddly misshapen. You frowned.

“What is this?” You looked to Lucien for an explanation but he was doubled over. He took a ragged breath.

“I told him not to send it. I told him it was a shit gift.” He managed before he was wheezing with laughter again. You inspected the headband.

“Did...did Eris make this?” Lucien simply nodded through his tears. You blinked.

“I don’t want these gifts. Please tell him to stop wasting his time.” It felt cruel. But your mind flashed to his lips on Nesta’s neck, his emotionless eyes during the battle with Hybern, your cousin's agonising cries when she had returned in Azriel’s arms that fateful night. You balled the cursed thing in your hand and chucked it back in the box. Lucien bit his lip, not finding it quite as funny anymore.

“It’s tradition in the Autumn Court to send things that are useful, as well as just objects of beauty.” He explained. It was clear which one the headband was meant to be.

“I’m Illyrian. Does he really think a bit of cold is going to hurt me? I don’t want any courting gifts, Lucien, regardless of their use.”

“You ate the cheese.” He murmured.

“We all ate the cheese, Lucien.” Was your quick reply.

He had no retort, and you decided that it was for the best. When you returned to your room, you pushed the box under your bed with the rest of the letters and gifts. The marigolds were wilted and dead for lack of sunlight, the earrings never touched. You could feel the mating bond screaming, begging to be heard, but you pushed it back further. This male would not have any part of you. None at all. You would never be his. No matter how much the thought pained you.

---

You were not reciprocating. Eris had spent all night fumbling around with those stupid needles trying to make something you might actually care for, and your response was silence. He thought back to that night. He knew he had not imagined the hunger in your eyes that almost knocked him dead. Yet how had he repaid you? By kissing Nesta. By proposing to Nesta.

He had fucked up. As if, after everything you already thought about him, you might have given him a chance.

Yet the bond raged so fiercely, he could barely stand to ignore it for even a day before his chest burned so badly he thought he might drown. It would be a fitting way to go, he thought. To be hated so much it killed him. He had done enough to deserve such a fate.

Weeks passed, then months. Rhysand had been kind enough to let him visit Lucien twice more, once ending in a painfully awkward run in with Cassian that had him leaving earlier than intended. Those overgrown bats hovered around him as if he might try stealing you away the longer he spent in the Night Court. He never managed to catch even a glimpse of you. Not with Azriel or Rhys silently staring, or Cassian barging in every few minutes pretending to need something from the room. He was allowed nowhere without Lucien as his chaperone, he could say nothing without it being overheard. So much for bats, they were more like hawks.

He had stopped sending courting gifts. And he had stopped sending letters.

Cheddar lay her head on his lap, and he stroked her soft head gently.

“Am I just a fool, Cheddar?” He asked, knowing she could do nothing more than side-eye him as he spoke. “What good is it, pursuing your mate who hates you and whose brothers want you dead? Should I let this go?”

Cheddar whined, and thumped her tail. Checking the clock Eris found it was almost time for her walk. Eris glanced at the paper laid on his desk, gathering dust for weeks. He sighed. Once more. Once more he would grovel for your attention, to soothe the pain in his chest, the ache in his heart. Then he would let it go.

Let you go.

Forever.

Join me for a walk. I wish to talk. Eris.

He signed his name, the first time he had ever bothered to. Before he had time to overthink it, it vanished from his desk. His hands shook. Seconds passed, minutes turned to half an hour. Then it came. Popping onto the desk unceremoniously. Your response.

Fine. Where should I meet you?

He replied quickly, Cheddar beginning to get restless.

On the border, there is a doorway from Night to Autumn, I will walk you past the wards.

I will be there.

It was now well past when he would have usually taken the dogs out, but they would be walked, this time with his mate in tow. He stood with a shaky breath, and took the leads off the wall. Winnowing with his dogs to the edge of the Court, he steeled himself. He was ready to face you, to face his one chance to change your mind.

---

You stood at the edge of the Autumn Court. You had told no one where you were. Nor had you told anyone who you were with. Rhys would have a fit if he ever found out, Azriel would never speak to you again. Cassian might have allowed you to go, but not without following you and glaring holes through Eris the entire time.

It was safer for Eris on your own.

You heard his dogs first, then his voice calling after them to slow down. A brindle smokehound bounded up to you, its tongue lolling and tail wagging frantically. They were a beautiful breed, and rare, you couldn’t help the warm smile you gave it. It stopped just short of smacking into your legs and you giggled, holding your hand out for it to sniff. It was a few beats ahead of its owner, who was walking slowly with four more dogs waltzing around him, one calmly at his side. You watched as they ran circles around you and Eris as he came to a stop before you. He gave a short whistle and they stopped dead in their tracks, then retreated to his side. You couldn’t help the short burst of arousal you sent down the bond. Eris gave a cocky smile.

“You came.” He said, his smooth voice giving away no emotion, the bond closed off to you.

“I did.” You answered, unable to block your side of the bond quite as effectively.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

“I did.” You repeated. He cleared his throat and shifted on his feet.

“Well, the dogs will be off leash, I hope that’s alright. They’re usually good, but this one might try and go for the squirrels.” He said, pointing to a gorgeous black dog who pressed it’s long nose into Eris’ hand. You gave the pup a small smile.

You walked in silence for a while, both of you unsure of where to start, what to say to mend the fraying thread that connected you. Golden and ruby leaves crunched underfoot, the dogs panting breaths fogged little clouds in the crisp air. It was truly beautiful. You had always felt a sense of calm when Autumn fell over Velaris, but it could not compare to the serenity of the Autumn Court. It felt as though the whole Court was holding its breath, the season of change, never-changing, unending. Eris let you soak it in, watching as you beheld the forest in all its magnificence, not bothering you with conversation.

“You kissed her.” You said finally, breaking the peaceful silence. Eris fiddled with the leash in his hand.

“I had to.”

“Why?” You asked, the question sounding childish as soon as it escaped your lips.

“There were expectations on me that night I don’t expect you to understand.” The bond was still sealed tight from you, he spoke with the emotionless tone of a well-trained courtier.

“Try me.” You pressed.

“I don’t want to.” And perhaps it was the truth, but frustration built the further you walked, the silence dragging out between you uncomfortably. He had invited you here to talk. So talk he would.

You scoffed. The bond buzzing incessantly at your closeness to your mate, finally right where it wanted to be. But all you could focus on were his eyes, his heated gaze, as he had brushed his lips across Nesta’s bare neck.

“No.” You snapped. “You knew I was watching when you claimed my sister. When you proposed to marry her. You have given me no reason to believe you care for me. Never once apologised for what you did to my cousin. How could I ever trust you? That is what you want, is it not?”

He was staring at you now, no longer averting his gaze, amber eyes cold and calculating.

“I had a duty to my father to propose marriage to Nesta, I have no feelings for her, only for you.” Eris said, carefully ignoring any mention of Morrigan.

“You don’t know me. You know nothing about me. Only that we share this bond.” You argued. One of his dogs trotted up to your side and you pet her head to calm yourself. The action grounded you, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Eris, who felt it deep in his chest.

“I know that you seem to care an awful lot about what I did with your sister, yet claim to detest me” He said, dropping the walls he had carefully placed around the bond.

Nerves. Anger. Disappointment.

“I have waited centuries for a mating bond, and will not let your unfortunate Court affiliations bar me from trying, especially not when you show me so clearly your true desires.”

You rounded on him with anger glinting in your eyes.

“You could never be serious, professing my ‘true desires’, if you knew how much I loathed you, Eris Vanserra.”

Hurt. Pain. Despair.

“You are a power hungry brute who as far as I know has a secret thing for Illyrians.”

There was a pregnant pause. Eris stared straight at you with an expression you could not decipher. He was bathed in dappled golden light. He looked ethereal. You couldn’t help the guilt that washed over you, and you knew he felt it too.

Hope.

Something clicked, his expression shifted and he moved towards you with a darkness in his eyes that sent heat rushing to your core. You stepped back until you hit a tree, your back pressed up against it, and you were trapped. He crowded you, so close you could almost taste his spiced perfume.

“Is that what they have told you, little fox?” He asked, his deep voice low and sensual against your ear, “The only Illyrian I have a thing for is you. The moment I saw you swagger into that meeting as if you owned the place, I knew the Mother had made the right choice. She mocks me with your family, but I would risk their disapproval for just a taste of you.” You sucked in a breath, anger quickly replaced with lust as he pressed against you, and you cursed your body for reacting. You knew he could smell your arousal as his cruel grin widened.

“You feel it too, don’t you little fox.” His scent consumed you as he dropped every glamour, the heady rush of his arousal surrounded you like a drug. “That despite everything you think about me, you want me too. You want this.”

There was nowhere to run, with your back firmly pressed against the tree. There was no escape. That would be the lie you kept telling yourself afterwards as you surged up to kiss his lips, no longer able to resist. You took him by surprise, and used your advantage to spin him around, lips still on his, pushing him against the tree. He looked at you with lust blown eyes, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut as you squeezed him, hard.

“This is mine.” You growled, the jealousy and need you had felt at the ball rushing back full force, “You are mine. From now on if you so much as sniff around another female I will make sure to show you exactly who you belong to.”

He panted, nodding frantically.

“Yes. Please. Please y/n, I need you.”

You fished his cock from his pants, it was wet and throbbing, the length of it in your hand making your pussy clench in need. He hissed at the cold air. You needed him closer. You needed to taste him. Dropping to your knees, you enveloped him in your mouth, his hands flying to your hair.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuckkk.” He groaned. He pulled your hair roughly, and you looked up at him with doe eyes. You wanted it hard, rough. Wanted him to fuck your mouth as if he hated you. He felt it all through the shimmering golden thread and whimpered.

“You’re killing me, Y/n.” He grit out. With a small smile you bobbed your head, experimentally. A burst of salty precum coated your tongue and you swallowed it with a moan. He was hot and pulsing in your mouth, you pushed your head further down until he was at the back of your throat, your nose bumping against his navel, wanting him to feel the contractions as you swallowed around him. Breathing through your nose, you tapped at the back of his legs. you wanted him thrusting into you.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he pulled his hips back, dragging his cock lavishly across your tongue. With a sharp breath he pushed in, and you met his thrust with a bob of your head, knees aching, eyes watering.

He growled, and picked up the pace until he was fucking your face with abandon. His moans and pants sending slick dripping into your panties. Salt was all you could taste as his dick leaked continuously onto your tongue. He was soaking wet, with your spit, with his slick. It was the messiest blowjob you had ever given, and you fucking loved it. The bond hummed in pleasure as you gagged and drooled around him.

“Sweetheart, fuck, I’m close.” He whined, his thrusts growing sloppy as he ground his hips against your face.

“Gods your mouth, your fucking mouth, you’re gonna make me cum.” You laved your tongue over him, his constant stream of words both amusing and arousing you. You pulled off his cock and held your tongue out, looking up at him, hand pumping him roughly.

“I’m, I’m cumming, shit, Sweetheart, fuck.” He came copiously, so much that you choked on it. You swallowed, watching his eyes darken as you licked your lips.

He leaned against the tree, panting, and you sat on your knees.

This was not what you had planned. Not in the slightest. You had come to tell him to fuck off, to let the bond grow cold and stale. And yet you were on your knees in front of him, the taste of him consuming your senses. What had you done? You knew he could feel the growing fear, spreading through your chest like a chill.

“I have to go.” You stood abruptly.

“Don’t—” You didn’t stay to hear what he said next. You ran to the doorway, and didn’t stop running until you had reached your bedroom in the Night Court.

You opened the door. Rhys stood, a murderous look on his face and letters gripped tight in his fist. The scent of Eris was all over you. You had no way to hide it. His eyes darkened, your desk cracked and splintered then misted into thin air.

“Rhys I—” You scrambled for the right words to say as your brother took a heavy step towards you.

“I can explain.”

Taglist:

@anotherbook-obsessedhoe @glitterypirateduck @homeslices @leeknows-wife @cat-or-kitten @macimads @esposadomd @forever-paramore28 @going-through-shit @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @astarlitsoul @crazylokonugget @imagine-that-100 @sorry--for-the-mess @glittervame @the-sweet-psycho @yamburger @bunnyredgirl @historygeekqueen @acourtofbatboydreams @starrystarkey93 @holb32 @iimichie @goldenmagnolias @theravenphoenix26 @63angel @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @walkerchick007

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readychilledwine · 3 months

Text

Drumming Song

Summary - 49 long years without your mate finally comes to an end after Amarantha grants him one night of freedom

Warnings- smut, rough oral (mrecving), shadow play, slight angst, impact play, power play, mention of sex magic, occational capitalized word where there shouldn't be (I think I caught them all)

A/N - Listen... there's potential for this to have a second part under the mountain where reader is Rhysand's whore

“Behave,” Tamlin gripped your chin gently. “Pick wisely and preferably from the guard, y/n.”

Lucien snorted behind you, having been the male you had picked the last four Calanmai. You two figured the magic would lead you to him again. A strong, high born male and heir was the obvious choice for the night.

Tamlin looked at Lucien, “Stay near her.” The red-headed male nodded. Gently reaching for your hand to accompany you to the Fires as Tamlin began the Rite.

“What are the odds dearest daring Feyre stays in her room?” You linked your arm to Lucien, leaning into him and staring up at his beautiful face hidden by that fox mask.

“For her sake, she better,” he sighed heavily. “I'd really prefer not to watch your brother and my closest friend fuck my mate.” The stark reminder had your toes curling, thinking of your own mate trapped under that damned Mountain. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Lucien looked to the sky, whispering a soft prayer to the Cauldron. “I'll be back.” He motioned with his head towards where Feyre stood with a male.

You shook your head, laughing as Lucien went to her, and the male walked away as he approached. You continued your pathway to the forest, enjoying the feeling of grass on your bare feet.

An almost feline like presence had you pausing as a familiar feeling began to set into your stomach. Calloused hands ran up your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they then moved your hair to the side, “Hello, y/n Darling,” the purr had shivers running your spine as a combination of shocked chill and the heat of the magic began to truly set in.

His scent hit you then causing that faint drumming sound to increase rapidly. Citrus and sea salt mixed with what you knew was the lingering scent of Amarantha.

“What are you doing here, Rhysand?”

You felt him smile into your neck, “Rhysand? Darling, I thought we were way past that?”

It took every fiber in your being, every single ounce of strength you had, but you managed to pull away from him, walking away as you shook him off despite the rhythmic pounding indicating you had Found your partner for the night.

With every footstep away, he took two near, and the drumming grew louder. “If you need to know, I was allowed off my leash tonight to check in.”

You scoffed slightly, picking up pace to head toward your greenhouse, your safe haven. “You mean to drag whomever the poor female Tamlin picks for the night to the false queen to be tortured and murdered?” It was no secret that once every 5 years Amarantha had sent one of the crueler high lord or an Autor to Spring for the poor maiden picked from Calanmai.

Rhys was smirking behind you, knowing you were engaging in a game of chase with him, smiling to himself and knowing he would win. “I do have that unfortunate privilege, yes.” He paused, allowing you to get several paces ahead of him.

Thick silence fell between you two. The air was heavy with magic, with arousal, with the sound of moans and cries while fire cracked distantly in the background.

You had to get away from him before you gave in, caving to every sick whim and desire he had. You took one deep breath, memorizing His scent one more time, and then ran.

Rhys laughed distantly in the background, giving chase to you and easily following every calculated twist and turn.

He caught you exactly where he knew he would, shutting the door to the completely glass greenhouse behind him and locking it.

You felt him grab your wrist, spinning you and walking you to one of the empty walls. His forehead found yours. Those star flecked eyes almost blown out with lust but still somehow sparkling.

The cold glass of the greenhouse met your back as Rhysand held your wrists above your head. "Why are you running from me, little spider lily? As much as I enjoy a game of cat and mouse, we both know my time here is limited."

The heat from Calanmai's magic had begun to spread over your skin, causing the need to be breed, to find some relief to surface. "Tamlin will kill you if he finds you here."

Rhys smirked, his face getting closer to yours, "Your brother was a little preoccupied with a pretty little dark-haired thing in the cave," Soft lips trailed your neck. "And now there's no one else here to save you from me."

He had leaned in so close each syllable was a soft brush of his lips on yours. “Amarantha-” you started softly.

“Will think I fucked you to irritate Tamlin. Nothing more. Nothing less.” Your eyes fluttered shut, relaxing as cool tendrils of darkness began to explore the high slits of your skirt.

Rhys began placing soft kisses along your jawline, hands moving down from your wrists to memorize each inch of skin. One hand stopped on your neck, holding there and squeezing gently. “You should be allowed to wear clothing like this more often. Makes you look like an actual female. Not some cupcake Tamlin had hand decorated.”

You blinked at the lack of clothing you were in. A dress that dipped low in the front with a non-existent back, two large slits that ran both legs up to your hipbones. The fabric was so light that a soft breeze would expose you easily.

“I enjoy my cupcake skirts sometimes. Easy to hide things in,” your mind immediately went to before the Bond between you two snapping, when Lucien had first come to Spring and used sex As a coping mechanism. He and Tamlin had an argument, and he had hidden the table and then under your many layered skirts and ate you out with Tamlin sitting right there.

Rhysand's eyes grew dark, his hand squeezing your throat harder. “You will never think of another male between those pretty thighs once I'm done with you.”

Rhysand brought your lips to him harshly this time. The kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, leaving you breathless as he began ripping that now offensive dress off.

Without warning, Rhysand turned you, locking your hands behind your back with one hand and forcing your breasts and cheek against the cold glass.

You jumped, gasping loudly as a smack came against your ass. Then another and another leaving you wiggling and moaning. Rhys landed another hard smack, massaging the tender sore skin once he was done and just watched you drip.

You were soaked, and he only made it worse as he ripped your hair back, forcing your back to arch more. “Try to remember I love you, and this, instead of whatever happens when you are dragged under than damn mountain,” it was a soft plea followed by a kiss placed on your temple.

“Always,” you whispered.

“Get on your knees for me,” you could hear him untying his pants, the desperation in his tone. You turned, following his order and trailing your hands down his thighs.

Rhys was quick to collect your wrists, slamming them on the wall behind you and above your head. The position left you completely defenseless as his free hand positioned his cock in front of your lips. “Open.” An easy order to follow again, your eyes meeting his as he pushed in. You hummed at the weight of him on your tongue, the saltiness of his skin. You tried to bob your head, only to be forced to stay in place.

Rhysand just smirked before pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

And now it was clear. He had no intentions of allowing you an ounce of control.

This was his therapy.

His needed release from the horrors he was suffering silently to earn her favor. To keep his court safe. To keep you safe.

Rhys was gentle at first, allowing you to keep up and breathe, tongue running the length of the vein and swirling the head when the opportunity came. That gentleness went out the window once Rhys saw an attor lurking the grounds, and he growled. “I love you,” he whispered one last time. You nodded, swallowing around him, and did the best you could to relax.

He began fucking your throat like you were no more than a doll to him, a lifeless object He could use and abuse. He smiled and moaned with each gag, cock feeling heavier on your tongue and twitching as more spit began to gather at the corners of your mouth. Mascara had begun to run down your face with your tears from the burn and lack of oxygen. "What a pretty mess," he moaned out.

Rhys threw his head back, groaning your name like a prayer as he continued using and abusing you.

You felt something cold running around your thighs and then something running the length of your core. You knew if you stood, there would be a damp spot on the floor. You were twitching and clenching around nothing, eyes locked on the absolute bliss etched into Rhysand's face each time you hallowed your cheeks or swallowed.

You moaned around him as one of those tendrils gently began to play with your clit, offering some relief as he held you with his cock all the way inside of your throat.

“Keep fucking looking at me,” his hand moved from your hair to your throat. Feeling his cock settled in there, feeling you swallowing and attempting to breath around him. “My perfect good girl,” he was breathless himself, pulling back out before going back to his ruthless onslaught of thrusts mixed with prolonged deep throating.

Between his pleasure steady humming down the bond, the snake like darkness dancing around your entrance and clit, and the visual display of Rhysand with his brows knit in pleasure and mouth opened softly, you felt that coil tightening inside of you more and more. “Almost fucking there, y/n,” he panted, your name rolling off his tongue like a deep purr. “Fuck!”

He came from you, whining as that coil began to teeter on a knife edge. Rhys spilled down your throat, “Don't fucking swallow yet. Don't you fucking dare.” He pulled out slightly, working his length with just the tip in your mouth to ensure every drop of him sat waiting.

He pulled out, breathing heavily, “Open your mouth.” Your obedience had his cock twitching, his mind wishing he had time to truly take you, to taste you. He smiled at the sight of his seed lingering in your mouth before leaning down and spitting on your tongue. He forced your jaw shut, kneeling down before you, a hand taking place between your thighs and two fingers entering you.

“Swallow,” he commanded as he began fucking you with his fingers. Scissoring them pressing them, pushing deeper and deeper until he found the spot that had your head thrown back, whining out his name as electricity and warmth shot through your body.

You heard him growl as a thumb found your bundle of nerves, moving in time with his thumb. Your hips began to unknowingly move, riding those two fingers inside of you and chasing your pleasure. “Rhys! Fuck! Please.” You began to beg, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, a mantra one would wake themselves to in the morning.

You couldn't respond, mouth set in a small o, whimpers and moans becoming all you knew as he played your body like his own personal harp. “Cum,” you screamed then, flowers in the greenhouse going from small buds to full blooms as you reached and fell over your peak.

You felt him leaning into your ear. “When I buy you under the mountain, I'm going to fuck you infront of every single fae there. Marking you as mine over and over.” He pulled his fingers out, landing a quick slap to your sensitive pussy before pushing his fingers back in. “You won't even remember your name when I'm done with you down there.”

He worked your core through it, praising you with soft kisses as he kept an eye on Amarantha's creature that had caught his scent. He pulled his fingers from you, holding them to your mouth and watching from his lashes as you eagerly cleaned them.

He released your wrists, pulling his fingers from your mouth, and held eye contact with you. “I have to go,” his voice broke as he said the 4 words you'd been dreading. “I love you. I know I've told you several times tonight, but I love you y/n Darling.”

You nodded, trying to blink the tears away, “I love you too.”

He nodded, kissing you deeply before pulling back and resting his forehead against yours. “I'll see you soon.”

It was a statement that filled you both with dread and a sick sense of joy. Dread for being trapped there, one more tool to use for Tamlin's torment. Joy at the idea of being with Rhys.

He sighed, leaving the greenhouse as you noticed the creature approaching and leaving with it after motioned towards the cave you knew Tamlin's maiden would likely be resting in.

You felt one last tug on the bond. One small ounce of sorrow of longing.

Then it fell silent and cold.

Just like it had been for 49 long years.

💜 General taglist 💜 - Remember to shoot me a message or comment if you would like to be on my general taglist or a tag list for a specific character

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhysand x you #rhys x y/n #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x tamlin sister!reader

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phyrestartr · 8 days

Text

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (TEASER)

#full is NSFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, mentions of abuse, typical canon violence, morally grey reader, sukuna has FEELINGS but is BAD AT FEELINGS

A/N: this fic is so long rn lol I just have to release a piece of it into the wild :sob: feel free to reply if you want to be tagged for the full story when it's ready

☆☆☆

You were never supposed to be anything more than a trinket. You were a gift from some family trying to show off for Sukuna, so much so that they offered him a delicacy, something he surely didn't have yet–a yokai. A kitsune, to be more exact. One with peculiar black tails.

Sukuna found it interesting, and similarly desperate, to be brought such a creature as tribute. Certainly, it was meant to be seen as a high honour, yet somehow it felt…off. Why would humans give up something so powerful?

Unexpectedly, it'd be you who told him.

They submit me for the sake of convenience and mockery, your withering voice whispered where no one else could hear. You sounded weak. Tired. Maybe afraid, yet brave enough to reach towards the king and unveil the intentions of the men who brought you before him.

Sukuna's eyes flicked to you, his feigned interest in what the sorcerers said falling straight into dismissal. You were much more intriguing.

“Oh?” Sukuna asked, a smile creeping onto his face. The speakers ceased their jabbering and stared at your back with fierce intensity. Sukuna grinned wider. Oh, how he loved the way fear twisted mortal faces.

You didn't shift or crumple into yourself under the eyes of so many, however. You pushed on with what little energy and life you had, so intent on dragging that clan through the mud.

What I say is true, you assured simply. I expect to die today–

“Speak so everyone hears you, fox,” Sukuna commanded.

“--so I–I–” you coughed and cleared your throat, trying to rid your voice of the scratchy, weakness it struggled through. “I wish to not die with regrets.

“They have rendered me ill and unable to produce children, they see the black of my tails and regard me as an ill omen; yet they bring me to you, daring to spin sweet tales about the value of such an offering. But they lie,” You hissed. Your eyes glinted with molten malice, and Sukuna fell captivated. “They throw me to you as they would diseased meat to dogs.”

The courtyard fell silent, and Sukuna basked in it. You really were such a little troublemaker. A quietly chaotic force of nature.

The king stood, rolling his shoulders as he did, and his pride flared as you dropped to your knees before him in respect. He walked to you and patted your head as one might a child's before appraising the sorcerers stood before him.

“What a disappointment,” Sukuna sighed, raising another hand. The couple took up position, pooling their cursed energy in hopes of fending off the monster standing before them. The effort was quite cute. “Here I thought your clan might actually earn my mercy.” His hand dropped as the two lunged. Then, the two clansmen fell, too, both in neat, vertical halves. Quite overkill, yes, but he had a point to make.

Where he expected a reaction from you, he got nothing. Only panting and poorly-stifled coughs came from you, racking through the entirety of your skin and bones frame. Sukuna could see it up close now, the way your body trembled from fatigue, the sickly greying of your skin, the scent of disease clinging to you.

That wouldn't do. Sukuna liked his things to be in good shape.

“Uraume,” Sukuna droned as he stared down at you, “fix this.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x male reader #sukuna x m!reader #sukuna x you #jjk x you #male reader insert #male reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months

Text

Unexpected (Vox x Fox Demon!Reader)

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Description: Vox tries to make a deal with Y/n.

Warnings: Valentino is his own warning. Um, slightly explicit near the beginning? Nothing too bad. Cigarettes.

Word Count: 2,928

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A/N Considering the returns on my most recent poll, I figured I should get this slightly steamy little idea I've had for a while out there in the world.

Vox had never been one to make deals with lesser demons, to take their souls. No, that was Valentino's thing. Vox didn't need to own a soul to get a demon to do what he wanted for one, and for another, Vox didn't particularly like people. He preferred to work alone, to be alone. Life was much more productive that way.

The other Vees were different. Vox allowed them in his life because they were useful, they solidified and expanded his power. Anyone else was just a waste of time and space.

Speaking of the other Vees, Vox right now was on his way to visit Valentino. At Velvette's request, he was aiming to talk to the man about whatever scene he'd instigated at a club the night before. It just happened to be his luck because of course it was his fucking luck that the only spare moment he had to deal with the situation was when Val was filming.

Vox burst through the studio doors, making a beeline for Valentino who sat in a director's chair before the set. He was well practiced at approaching his business partner while the man was working and averted his eyes, trying his best to keep focus on the task at hand.

"Val." he hummed in irritation as he came to a stop beside the moth demon's chair, "What did you do last night?"

Valentino blew out a puff of pink smoke, fixing his eyes on Vox.

"Whatever do you mean?"

The feigned innocence coming from this man was laughable. Vox rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, to reveal what Velvette had told him. By chance, just at that moment, he happened to look away.

It wasn't on purpose. There had been a sound from the set that had involuntarily grabbed Vox's attention. His eyes widened, his screen glitching with fury as he turned back to Valentino.

"What the fuck is that?" he asked pointing to the set.

There, in the middle of the bed was a demon. That was far from unusual, as was the demon's half dressed state. What was unusual was the fact that the demon had been dressed up to look exactly like Vox himself. Well, not exactly. The actor had a box over his head with a fake screen on the front. A cheap costume but one that was most certainly supposed to be him.

There was another demon beneath him, a short thing with with wide eyes and the large ears of a fennec fox. It was then that the sound that caught his attention registered with Vox. Trapped under the other actor's arms, his lips to her neck, she had moaned his name.

"Hmm?"

Val lazily threw his gaze to the stage before smiling.

"Just my newest project. Don't you worry."

"Val, I am definitely worried. I want you to cancel this, right now."

"Oh comon Voxy!" Valentino pleaded, "Think of all the money it would bring in! Half of Hell wants to get dicked down by you for Christ's sake."

Vox folded his arms over his chest, actively not looking at the pair who were still on stage. They had not stopped what they were doing for the sake of the overlord's conversation and Vox was so high strung that he nearly flinched at the sound of fabric tearing.

"Val."

His voice came out deep and mangled, as if his speakers were turned up way too loud. Vox's eye twitched slightly in irritation, his hands clenched into fists. Valentino just watched him for a moment before sighing. Waving his hand, he turned to the stage.

"That's a wrap everyone!" he called and Vox turned to watch at the whole crew of demons, including the pair of actors, turned to their boss, "We're trashing this script."

If anyone had complaints, they dared not voice them before the two overlords. Slowly, the crew began to pack up.

"Thank you." Vox reluctantly said to Val.

His eyes were fixed on the two actors, something that did not escape Valentino's notice as he waved the words of thanks off.

"You owe me one."

"Whatever."

The man had pulled himself from the bed by now and discarded the false head he'd been wearing. With a kindly smile, he held a hand out to the girl he'd been on top of just moments before. She sat up, leaning back on her arms. Vox watched her lips move and though he couldn't hear what she said over the clamor, he assumed it must've been a joke as the other demon laughed.

Gently, and with much more grace than Vox could have thought she was capable of, she took the demons hand and brought herself off the bed. Vox's breath caught in his throat because of course, of fucking course, Valentino had decided to dress her like that.

If Val was good at anything, it was guessing someone's kinks just by looking at them. A party trick but in practice, very useful for his line of work. The demon was dressed in blue and red lingerie, running like twisting wires over her limbs, pressing gently into her skin in just the right way. The remnants of a black dress, the source of the earlier sound of torn fabric no doubt, lay in the imprint of her body on the bed. Vox didn't care if it was predictable, she looked fucking hot.

With that specific breed of confidence that seems only to belong to pornstars, the pair began heading toward the door. Muffled, as if through water, Vox heard Valentino ask him something.

"Yeah." Vox absently replied, tearing his eyes away from the pair and meeting Valentino's gaze.

Val smirked up at him knowingly.

"You alright there Voxy?" he hummed, "Fox got your tongue?"

"I am not going to deign that with a response. If you ever pull shit like this agai-"

"Yeah yeah. Doll!"

Vox followed Val's shifted line of sight to see that the girl had stopped by the door which was being held open for her by her scene partner. She turned to face Val, suddenly taking on a much more demure demeanor than she had previously displayed. Hands clasped before her, she met her boss's eyes across the expanse of the room.

"Yes?" she called, her voice like music.

"Val." he warned under his breath for what felt like the umpteenth time.

Valentino, of course, ignored him, seeking his own entertainment and profit above all else.

"Come here for a second, would you?"

She nodded, saying something to the demon behind her over her shoulder. With a shrug, he left the room, letting the door fall shut behind him. Stepping carefully between the frantic workers, the girl made her way across the room to Vox and Val. She stopped before Val's chair, looking up at him through her lashes.

"What did you want to see me for, sir."

Her words were careful, perfectly annunciated.

"Back here in ten. You've got another job."

"Yes, Valentino." she replied, bowing her head just the slightest bit towards the man.

Val's wicked grin widened.

"Wear the white."

"Yes, Valentino."

It was like those were the only two words she knew. She treated the horrific man before her with the utmost respect, never once taking her eyes off of him.

"You may go."

Val waved her off with a lazy flick of his hand.

"Thank you, sir."

Another slight bow and the girl turned, her hair splaying out slightly at the ends from her sudden movement. As she made for the door once again, she shot a momentary glance at Vox. It was as if the world had stopped turning the second their eyes met. It felt like an eternity of him losing himself in their sticky softness. Then, she was gone.

Vox didn't understand what was happening. Sure, he had found people attractive before. He'd engaged in hookups, wasted time on the occasional relationship but nothing -- nothing -- had ever been like this. Every time he shut his eyes, there she was. Every spare second, his mind drifted to her. He found himself staring off into space, the image of that wry smile she had shot her costar as he had helped her off the bed burned into his memory.

The worst part was she was one of Val's girls and Val's girls were always trouble. The look they had shared, the scene she had been in, the way his name had sounded spilling from her soft lips, Vox knew it meant nothing to her. She had probably already forgotten it by now. The worst part was, it wasn't nothing to him. His muscles tensed at just the thought of the sound, at the idea of him being the one to actually make her beg for him rather than some cheap excuse for a facsimile. The worst part was, he didn't even know her name. In Val's gaze, she was just another body to profit off of. She was a doll, unworthy of any other title. The idea of someone seeing her so cheaply made him glitch because god, he had only met her once, but she was so much more than a toy. Vox was sure of it.

Wrapped in fantasy, he crafted an image of the girl. Vox imagined her patterns of being, what she must be like as a person -- so obedient but with that dry sense of humor he had attributed to her with no evidence save that she'd managed to make one person laugh in front of him one time. Vox never expected to see her again. He thought that the demon would be forever relegated to his dreams, to the recesses of his mind. He thought she'd be dead in a week, with Val's track record.

Vox pulled himself from his desk chair with a sigh. Three hours had passed and he just couldn't bring himself to be productive. She was a menace, a true vixen with those fox ears and tail to match. He would curse her very name for what she was doing to him if he knew what it was.

"Some fresh air. That's all I need." he said to the emptiness of his office, "Yeah."

The back doors of the Vee's building were seldom used, even by the people who worked there. Half the paparazzi didn't even know that they existed and so, he planned his escape. Of course it had to be his luck because it was always his goddamn luck these days wasn't it that the second he opened the door, it was to the smell of cigarette smoke and the image of a demon leaning against the building's brick exterior.

Vox let the door fall shut behind him with a heavy bang. The demon shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

"Escaping?" she asked.

He hadn't wanted anyone to see him. More importantly, he hand't wanted to see anyone, let alone talk to him. Vox sighed, adjusting his sleeves as he turned to face the demon fully.

She looked up at him, squinting slightly against the sun. Vox's heart stuttered in his chest. She looked... different and it wasn't just because she was fully dressed this time. There was no doubt about it however, this was the demon from the studio just a few weeks before.

None of the playful joy or diligent respect from their last encounter remained in her features, she just looked tired. Black jeans and a leather jacket, hair pulled up and away from her face, not a speck of makeup to be seen besides the smudged remnants of mascara beneath her eyes.

"You... you're that... you're one of Val's..."

"Victims?" she chuckled ruefully, "Yeah. I am."

"You're the one from..."

"Last week? Yep. Sorry about that, by the way. If it's any consolation, it was uncomfortable for us too."

Vox was speechless, stunned, utterly taken aback and completely blindsided. The exact thing he was trying to escape, standing before him and utterly contrary to his every previously conjured image.

"Want a smoke?"

"Uh, no thanks. Don't smoke."

The girl shrugged.

"Mind if I do."

"No."

She took another long drag, watching the smoke she blew out as it hung blue in the air. She shot him a sidelong glance.

"You just gonna stand there?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

She laughed. Vox wasn't expecting her to do that.

"S'pose I do."

The idea of a walk had long left Vox's mind. He leaned against the wall across from her in the cramped ally, watching as she anxiously checked the time.

"Goddamn."

She lowered her arm, shaking the sleeve of her jacket back over the watch and looking wistfully out towards the exit of the ally.

"Val?"

"Val."

"You seem... you're different than I expected you to be."

"Thats your fault for having expectations."

She smiled at him like a shark watching prey and he nodded his head to the side in mild agreement.

"What's your name?"

Her smile fell, eyes widening slightly. One of her ears twitched and Vox could hear the sound of her tail shifting against the wall. The world felt so far away. Right now, there was nothing else in existence except for himself, the ally, and the fox before him.

"Vix..." she bowed theatrically after a moment, "is my porn name."

Her eyes shot up to his as she finished her phrase, the same confident and, he now realized, performative smile curling the edges of her lips.

"But my parents called me Y/n."

The demon straightened herself up, holding a hand out to Vox. He regarded it carefully for a moment before placing his hand in hers.

"Vox."

"I know."

Y/n took a final drag from her cigarette, stamping the butt out on the ground beneath the heavy heel of her boot.

"Well," she sighed with one last look to the shock of sky they could see between the buildings, "I best be going. Nice meeting you."

"Wait!"

Vox hadn't meant to say it, nor had he meant to frantically latch onto her arm. Y/n flinched slightly under the contact, stilling before the door and turning back to him, her brow furrowed.

"Why do you..." he cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly pink, "How'd you end up... working... here."

Y/n laughed again. She had to admit, his flustered state was rather endearing, not at all what she had expected from one of the most feared overlords in all of Hell.

"For Val?" she asked and he nodded in response, "Same as every other wayward soul. He offered me something I couldn't refuse, and I was too naive to understand the price."

It took Vox a moment for her words to register with him, for her cryptic language to translate in his mind.

"He owns your soul?"

Y/n nodded once, all traces of amusement having fallen from her face.

"For what."

"Fame! Money! Riches!" she sarcastically called out with wild swings of her arms.

She stilled in her movements, a wry smile flashing across her face as she met his eyes again, her arms falling to her sides.

"Really?"

"Nah, I'm not that classy. I needed protection."

"From what?"

"Anything. I was new and I was afraid."

"And now you're trapped."

"Now I am trapped." Y/n concurred solemnly, "And I have to go."

"Do you want to go?"

Y/n thought for a moment before shaking her head.

"You're not what I expected you to be."

"Thanks?" Vox questioned after a moment, "I am not sure if you meant that as a compliment."

"Yeah."

It was a noncommittal answer and one that sent sparks of anxiety like shards of broken glass through him.

"I meant more so do you want to go to Val."

"Do I want to go get fucked by twenty guys or whatever he's gonna have me do? Of course fucking not. I don't really have a say in the matter so its not really important what I want."

"Of course it's important what you want."

Vox's mouth was moving a hundred times faster than his head. He couldn't seem to make it stop. Y/n's eyes went wide, she shook her head slightly as if ridding it of a thought.

"Maybe in another afterlife." she joked.

"What if... what if I could... fix this for you."

A pause, tense and full of longing. An intake of breath.

"What do you mean?"

"If you make a contract with another demon, Val's would be void."

"Another demon like you."

"Yes."

"I..."

She trailed off, looking up at him with wide eyes. Her tail wagged once happily behind her before all traces of hope were swallowed once again by the utter desolation.

"I dug my grave, Vox."

"But you don't have to lie in it."

He was practically begging her, his hand on her arm again. He couldn't recall when he had placed it there after her wild movements earlier in detailing her deal had thrown it from her. She looked down, examining the place where flesh made contact with leather. Y/n's eyes met his again, she shook him off.

"One deal is bad enough. Trading chains for chains doesn't change anything."

"But it could."

"Look, Vox. I have to go."

Y/n turned her back on him and opened the door. She hesitated for a moment, leaning on it's edge.

"It was nice to meet you."

Vox watched as she disappeared, the door slamming behind her.

----

A/N It doesn't matter if you guys want a part two or not because there will be one.

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