Rhysand X Reader - Tumblr Posts

hi! can I request a Rhysand from ACOTAR x reader where she is actually his mate but he had made his choice with Feyre and she is just soo heartbroken by it but instead later on she and Azriel fell in love and it all works out in the end? thank you!

A/n: Sure you can love, I am so so sorry for how long its taken ne to get to these. My inbox is so full and I'm just useless. Hope y'all enjoy- constructive criticism is welcome, but as always please be polite 😊🥰

The Next World

Rhysand looked over the small female. She was High Fae, but her stature was petite and fragile.

She was beautiful, but in his eyes, she was no Feyre. He had already comitted to Feyre, already vowed himself to her.

He loved Feyre, but he did not love the female in front of him.

Why did it have to be this way? She was so nice, so deserving of love and so deserving of a mate. And now he had to break her heart

He glanced at her eyes for a moment, then looked away. This isn't fair. His mate wasn't coming. That's why he chose Feyre in the first place and now there can be no one else.

Her eyes were welled up with tears and despite her begging, she knew what was coming.

Rhysand forced himself to look her in the eyes as he spoke, no matter how much harder it made things.

"I'm sorry. I've made my choice. You should probably go." He tried to say it gently, but the words sounded harsh even to his own ears.

Rhys winced, it was as if he could see he heart in her eyes, it was as if he was watching it physically break.

Without another word, she turned and walked towards the front door of the estate, no tears left her eyes until she felt the fresh breeze of the city on her face.

Why did her mate find a love away from her? How was that fair at all? How was she going to face the Inner Circle tomorrow, knowing about the bond.

Knowing that it will never be accepted. Feeling as though she will never be accepted.

She felt numb. But she also hurt.

How can you feel nothing, but also be hurting at the same time? How was that fair?

She seemed to be asking herself that question a lot lately, and as she pushed open the door to a bar hoping to drink away her sorrows, she realized: nothing is fair.

Not in this world and not in the next.

Sighing, she makes her way to a secluded little corner at the bar, trying to avoid being seen by Cassian, Azriel and Mor who were all laughung and drinking together.

It felt like a taunt, they were happy now and they could go home and sleep well and the next day when the time came to visit Feyre and Rhys, there would be no hesitation. They would be greeted with smiles and hugs.

They would be greeted with love. And she would not.

When the bartender brought her her drink she smiled and slurped half of it down in one go. Her face felt cold from residual tears and her eyes felt stiff and dry.

She looked back up to the group she was trying to avoid only to realise that Azriel was no longer there.

Probably gone home, maybe with another female, or even a male. To be happy, or at least content with another for tonight.

The concept felt so far away, she felt as if she'd never be happy again. Especially with someone else.

A warm hand covered her shoulder and she turned around quickly, whipping out a fisted hand, only for her wrist to be caught.

Shadows curled around her wrist and reached up her arm. With a gasp, she inspected the intruder's face and realised that Azriel was standing behind her.

"Why the long face?" He asked and as much as she wanted to retort back, as soon as she opened her mouth, her throat closed up and tears burned behind her eyes again.

She looked away from the male and stared into the half-empty cup in her hands.

"What's up buttercup?" He asked again, sliding into the stool next to her and craning his neck to see her face.

She looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just say 'What's up buttercup?'?" She asked and he gave a small smile as he nodded.

"What's wrong with that?" She shook my head at his words.

"Nothing. It's just stranger hearing the word buttercup slip from the spymaster's lips in such a playful way." She told him, wishing she could smile.

She enjoyed being around Azriel, he made her laugh and he made her feel comfortable. But right now, it felt so impossibly hard to feel happy.

"I'm not the spymaster right now. I'm Azriel, your friend and I'm here to help. Now, you gonna keep a secret from the spymaster?" He nudged her side and she ket out a sigh.

"I thought you weren't the spymaster tonight?"

"Well not actively. But it's not like I can just turn it off." He shrugged cockily. If it was any other day she would've laughed. She tried, but it felt as though she would never laugh again.

"Az... Rhysand is my mate." Shock clanged through him at her words.

"What?"

"He's my mate. And he doesn't want me."

"Oh my god."

🔸️

It had been a week since Rhysand's rejection and no one from the Inner Circle had seen Y/n since.

Except for Azriel.

She didn't show up for lunch the next day and she didn't appear for any meetings or meet-ups.

Mor and Cassian were worried and guilt was eating at Feyre, she felt it was her fault.

Rhysand was destroyed by guilt, he hadn't seen her in person since everything went down, but though the bond was quieting, it was as if he could feel her heartbreak through the bond.

But he could also feel something else, he didn't know what it was, but he thinks it is the reason he can feel the bond breaking.

Azriel had been spending all his spare moments with her, dedicating himself to making her feel better and helping her realise that she doesn't need a mate to be happy.

She doesn't need Rhys.

And she knows. She doesn't need Rhys, she has never needed him. The bomd had made her mind go whacky.

If she had let it continue taking over herself, she may have needed him. She was ready to as well, then Azriel put his hand on her shoulder.

Azriel smiled at her and got her to tell him what was happening.

Azriel called her a buttercup.

She hadn't smiled that night, but when she went to bed she questioned herself.

Why dodn't she smile that night? Azriel makes her smile. Why is she letting Rhysamd get in the way of that.

Of everything.

He doesn't want her and while it hurts, there is nothing she can do about it.

But she can find someone who does want her.

Her friends want her, maybe not in the way she would've been with a mate, but they love her and they want her.

A knock sounded on the door and everyone fell silent. They knew the scent and they knew who was at the door.

Feyre went to answer.

The group couldn't see what was happening, but they could hear the words exchanged.

"Y/n..."

"Is everyone here already?"

"Y/n I-" Feyre was cut off by a thumping noise.

Did she punch her?

The group got off the couch and walked into the entry hall to see Y/n and Feyre standing there wrapped in a hug.

Feyre was whispering 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.' and Y/n was just shaking her head.

Rhysand gave a soft smile at the scene in front of him. Through the slightly crumbling bond between them, he could feel Y/n healing.

When Feyre and Y/n pulled apart, everyone wanted their turn. There was almost a line in front of her while they waited for their hug too.

Rhys could feel Y/n's hesitation amd he didn't want to push it so he didn't get in line.

Then it was Azriel's turn.

He engulfed her and her small body pretty much disappeared into his as they hugged.

He squeezed her tightly and they stayed like that for a long moment, longer than the rest, inhaling each other's scents and revelling in the comfort of one another.

Rhys noticed. And he smiled. He knew why she was healing.

🔸️

It had been almost five months since Rhys had rejected the mating bond between him and Y/n.

If you looked really, really hard, it was still there. But it was faint and he could no longer feel her emotions, hear any words she let down the bond. It was pretty much non-existent.

And Y/n no longer cared. Of course she cared about Rhysand. They were still friends, in fact they were quite close after everything that had happened.

But she didn't need him the way she might've. She did need Azriel though.

And Azriel needed her.

They sat together on Azriel's couch, well, they layed together.

Azriel layed on the couch and she lay on top of him, his arms around her waist and keeping her from slipping off.

"Y/n?"

She hummed in response, but her eyes were still glazed over sleepily.

"Do you ever wish Rhys had picked you?" His voice was quiet.

"No." She replied with absolutely no hestitation.

"Why?"

"Because I love you and I am happier with you than I could ever be with Rhys. It's almost as if I left Rhys in the world behind me. You are my new world. And I would never wish for anything else." Her words were sweet, her voice was smooth and her eyes were soft.

Azriel was overcome with the love he felt for her. He lifted his wings up and wrapped them around her body tightly.

She felt warm and safe wrapped up in his arms and wings, surrounded by his scent and his love and also his shadows.

They weren't mates, but it didn't matter. They were in love.

HOME TO US | rhysand

summary; rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.

word count; 12,151

notes; I have no idea how this got so long? I planned for it to be like 4-5k, and @azsazz can vouch for that. also big shout out to @acourtofwhatthefuck for proofreading this for me when I just had no motivation, but I needed this one to be perfect.

Fate had always seemed to have the worst timing for you.

Whether it be relationships, the sunny skies turned to rain, or simply this; balancing precariously on a stool and getting startled by your own phone, which you could have sworn was on silent mode. 

Blaring out across the shop in a sudden burst of cheery notes and tones, you almost dropped the stacks of books in your hands, cursing a little as it vibrated in rhythm in the back pocket of your jeans. When the call persisted after the usual three rings signalling a cold caller or market salesperson, you sighed. 

Shifting the books to one arm, you fished the phone out before it could go to voicemail, wondering just who would be calling you so urgently at this time of the day. The question didn’t linger for long, though, as your eyes widened at the caller across the front of the screen. 

‘Velaris Young-Education Prepatory School’.

A ridiculously fancy name for an elementary school, you thought it every time you saw the name, and yet right now, your heart skipped a beat as you pressed answer. Bringing it to your ear as you shuffled the books in your arms more, you lowered yourself down from the ladder carefully. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello! Is this Nyx’s mother, (Y/N)? It’s V-Y-E Prep.”

The woman on the phone sounded somewhere between relieved and panicked, and your heart leapt into your throat a little at her tone. “Well, yes, that’s me, but-”

“Oh, good, we weren’t able to get in touch with dad, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of either of you.” She cut you off before you had a chance to finish, your lips clamping shut as she let out a sigh of a laugh. “I’m Nyx’s class teacher, but he’s had a little bit of an accident today, do you think you’d be able to come and pick him up from the reception?”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest entirely. “An accident, what kind of accident, is he okay?” 

“Oh, he’s fine! He had a fall during playtime, and he bumped his head. There’s a mark, and a scratch we’ve cleaned up, but he’s understandably a little shocked and upset. We know dad can get… concerned,” 

Understatement of the century, you wanted to butt in, because Rhys was more than just concerned. He was overprotective, in an endearing way, but he tended to freak out over the smallest things. Then again, it didn’t help when teachers said things like ‘accident’ when it’s not so serious. Perhaps it was a good thing that they got you, not him. 

“So, we thought we’d give you a ring, and see if you could pick him up?”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. You still had four hours left of your shift, and you felt terrible just ducking out, even if the store was dead, excluding the few people idling over lukewarm coffees in the connected café. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see you then.”

The line clicked dead, your eyes sliding shut as you let out a slow breath. You could have just said no, that voice in your head taunted, he’s not your child to fret over. And yet, the thought of his sad face lingered in your mind, triggering all those maternal instincts inside of you and sending them into overdrive.

“Sounds urgent.” Somehow, despite walking with a cane and always wearing heeled boots that clicked on the floorboards, Margaret had managed to sneak up on you. When you turned, the seventy-something-year-old was standing with a smile on her face behind you, eyeing the phone in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, Margie. It’s Nyx’s school.” You grimaced, lips pressing together into a thin line. She only laughed lightly, waving a frail hand idly in the air as if to bat the moment away.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I know what it’s like to have your child’s school call you up in the middle of the day.” Her smile only widened, her eyes glazing over a little. “Our Tommy was a terrible little troublemaker, I had constant calls about his behaviour. And our Jenny, well, she was the clumsiest kid you ever saw. Tripped over thin air.”

A wistful sigh escaped her, and your lips flicked up at the edges. You’d met both Thomas and Jennifer, lovely people, but just as she’d described. Jennifer seemed even more prone to bad timing than you, and Thomas had turned all that troublesome energy into bad flirting and a heated temper. 

“You do what you have to for your kids.” She’d finished her recollections, her voice snapping you from your own, and you could only nod.

“I know, but he’s not my kid. Not biologically, or in any way that matters. It’s not the same, and-”

“Hon, if I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.” Her words made a lump in your throat that was impossible to speak around, a quick flash of emotion swelling up that you were quick to fight against, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she’d seen in. “He may not have your genes, but he’s yours. So, go get your son. The store will still be here when you come back on Monday.”

“Are you sure-”

“Don’t make me force you out of this door.” She tapped her cane at your feet, just close enough that you could feel the floorboards vibrate under the harsh taps, a wordless threat, and a grin broke out on your lips to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Alright, I’ll see you Monday, then.”

She gave a curt nod, and you were flying through the store. Grabbing your bag and coat from the backroom on the way, you were out of the back door and at your car in less than a full minute. Only when you’d put your bags onto the seat and checked the car seat permanently attached to the back of the car did you get into your own seat.

How you’d gotten to this point, you had no idea. It hadn't been your intention four years ago when you’d first met baby Nyx, to end up with a box of his things in your trunk for emergencies, a child seat of your own in the back of the car and your name registered as a parental contact. Yet, as you stared, twisting to look at it and brushing your fingers over the fabric, you didn’t have a single regret about it. 

In fact, only a smile pulled at your lips as you thought about him. Him, and his father. Rhysand had been your best friend for many years, and his baby only seemed to bring you closer. You’d never have wished Nyx’s mother to have abandoned him, you loathed the woman every day for what she did to them both, but it had created a space in their lives that you’d somehow patched a part of up. 

When Rhys had needed support and guidance, you’d been there.

Now, you’d be there for Nyx, too.

As you started the car, flicking a glance back to check the mirrors on the seat were still aligned, Margie’s words flickered through your mind. 

If I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.

They lingered on your mind for the entire drive, hanging over you like a cloud on an April day, unsure if it was going to rain, or simply pass by. Until you were parked outside of the school, hands still clenched tightly on the steering wheel as you stared up at the tall glass entryway only a few paces away. You couldn't see Nyx yet, not with the doors on the other side that truly sealed off the building, but you could make out figures and shapes on the other side.

Your eyes moved to the clock, the digit clicking over another number, and your fingers felt numb when you finally released them from the wheel. With another sigh, you released all thoughts about mothers and genes and Rhys. 

One day, perhaps, you’d confront them. Today wasn’t going to be it.

Stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut behind you, you didn’t even bother to lock it, as you took a slow jog up the main pathway before the school. The doors hissed open automatically before you, the smell of fresh cotton coming from the air freshener in the corner of the office, and the receptionist behind the desk looked borderline bored as she glanced up. 

“Hi, um- Hi. I’m here for Nyx.”

Her eyes widened a little, looking significantly more interested now as she took your name, and called through to the classroom. The thought almost amused you, had you not been so concerned. Rhys had quite the representation around here, the big checks and hefty donations gained him and Nyx quite the special treatment, one that clearly seemed to pass onto you, too. 

The doors to the school buzzed open a second later as the magnetic locks released, and you stepped through. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs lined up along the wall of the office was Nyx, looking utterly swamped as his feet swung in the air, head bowed and hands clutching tightly to his backpack in his lap. 

At the scuffing of your shoes, his head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful, turning to relieved as he saw you. He dropped his bag to the floor, moving to slide out of the chair but you were faster, dropping down to kneel before him. Up close, you could see more, enough to break your heart. 

His eyes were red, cheeks pink, tear-marks tracked into the smears of playground dirt and classroom muck on his face. When you brushed the edge of his inky hair back from his forehead, it was to reveal a cut across his forehead to his temple, bumped and bruised, growing into a lump on his head. His bottom lip wobbled, eyes growing shiny again. 

“Oh, Nyxie, did you get hurt?”

“Yeah…” His voice trembled as he spoke, sniffling lightly and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. Patting his hair down once again, you tried to choke back the emotions clogging in your throat as a tall shadow fell across the both of you. With a glance, you confirmed that it was his teacher, looking more than a little nervous as she watched you take in Nyx for yourself. 

“We just have some forms for you to sign, and I can tell you a little more about his injury, and then you’re good to go.” At your nod, she let out a heavy breath, wiping her hands down subtly on her skirt.

“Nyxie, I’m just going to go sign some forms for you, okay? Do you want to wait here?” He shook his head, eyes widening a bit as his little hand clamped down onto your arm, gripping tightly and shuffling across the seat closer to you. “You want to come with us?”

“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more. 

“C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. Standing up with a little more effort than usual, Nyx’s hands patted idly over your knitted jumper, body bouncing with each step you took to follow her inside of the office. 

The forms were already laid out, four to be signed, and she pushed the first one over to you. “This one is just to state you acknowledge the injury, the second is a copy for you, because dad requested always having a copy of forms.” Her cheeks flushed with a little colour, the edges of your lips flicking up at Rhys’ quirks. “The third is just an injury form, that you know we’ve given you all the information, and you’re satisfied. The fourth, another copy.”

You quickly signed your name on the first two, pushing one over to her and keeping the other on your side. The pen hovered over the paper of the third, your fingers clenching a little on it, eyes flicking over the page. “What did happen, exactly?”

“Well, uhm…” You rubbed a hand over Nyx’s back, a soft affirmation that you appreciated how patiently he was waiting. Putting on a smile, you tried to put the woman at ease, not having meant to sound quite so… pissed. 

“I know kids have accidents, I didn’t mean to sound so… well, let’s just say, be glad I’m the one that picked up the call. Dad can be overprotective.” The boy in your arms giggled a little, and you placed down the pen, using your hand to now cup his head and rub at his hair lightly. 

“He was playing on the climbing equipment. I think he went a little too high, because he couldn't climb down. Another child was trying to help him, but before anyone could get over to him once we realised he was stuck, he fell off.” Her voice was a lot more confident now, and you were glad you’d been able to ease just a little of that tension. “I can take you out to the equipment and show you what happened, if you’d like?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You grabbed for the pen again, signing both pages, and she pulled one over towards her files as you gathered the other two. 

“Nyx was so brave, weren’t you, huh?” She swiped a finger over his cheek as she passed by to get the door for you again, and he nodded slowly against your body. “And he was so excited when he found out his mommy was coming to get him.”

There was that word again, all of those thoughts coming swarming back in a dizzying rush as you followed her. A hot blush settled on your cheeks, your mouth opening to correct her, before Nyx’s hands were bunching in your jumper as he let out another little giggle, making your lips snap closed again. He hid his face deeper in your shoulder. 

Stooping down to pick up his bags, his teacher placed it over your arm, swinging as you gripped paperwork in one hand and Nyx in the other. “I put all of his schoolwork in his bag. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Nyx!”

She held the door open for you, waving her goodbye as she watched you go, the receptionist looking far more alert now than she had earlier, smiling widely as the two of you left, and you could feel their gazes on you all the way to the parking lot. 

Putting down the paperwork and his bag on the top of the car, you opened it up, leaning in to settle him was like muscle memory now. No longer an awkward act but a practised one, as he slid from your arms and into the chair. Fastening the belt across his middle, you did the ones over his shoulders.

Eyes that were the same incredible shade of near-violet as his father’s were watching you, a ridiculously adorable smile on his face as you leaned in to press a kiss to the uninjured side of his forehead. Tucking his bags on the other side of him, you checked all his straps, not realising you were frowning yourself until his little fingers pinched at your nose. 

“Got a nose!” He whispered excitedly, waving his fingers in a way that was supposed to mock his uncle’s, the way Cassian would always tease that he’d ‘stolen Nyx’s nose’ to cheer him up. When you smiled at him, he pushed his hand back against your face, giggling to himself as he continued to imitate his uncle. “You can have it back!”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” You teased, rubbing over the bridge of your nose and taking him in. Once you were happy with his safety, you closed the door, taking only the paperwork with you and folding them in half, tucking them into the glovebox of the car for safekeeping. When the car turned on, your fingers went to the radio, and a single button pressed had some of Nyx’s favourite songs pouring from the speakers as the kiddie-CD in the player came to life. “We’ll go and see your daddy now, hopefully, he won’t be too upset about your head.”

The boy only hummed to his song, leaning to stare out of the window, breath fogging it up and one hand resting on the windows he watched his school be left behind. “Daddy will be angry with us?”

For all the fresh set of worries now swirling inside of your head at Rhys’ reaction, you’d never considered how Nyx would interpret your words. “Oh, no, of course not, baby. Never us. We make daddy smile, not frown!”

Reaching behind yourself as you came to a stop at the red lights, you squeezed at his knee lightly, retracting it only when the light went yellow. Another few minutes of quiet went past, the roads clear for the middle of the day as you drove, and Nyx was happily taking in all of the Velaris scenery as you passed by. 

From the small town outskirts and into the city centre, it was when you were almost there that Nyx stopped singing and decided to speak again. 

“I heard daddy tell Uncle Azzy on the phone that you make him smile like nobody else ever has.”

Your eyes widened, your foot nearly slamming onto the brake a little too hard as you turned a corner, and Nyx went back to singing his song. Your heart was picking up speed in your chest, the traitorous organ fuelled on hope reacting in a way you tried to resist. Your head was empty, it took a full minute to form your response, and you gave out a croaky laugh. “Were you being cheeky and listening to your dad’s private phone calls again?”

“No!” His voice sounded indignant, but with a look cast in the mirror onto him, you could see the cheeky smirk on his face. “He answered it at dinnertime! I got to say hi to Uncle Azzy. He’s in a whole different country right now, did you know that?”

You could only smile at the excitement in his voice as he spoke all about Azriel’s current escapades in Spain, or at least, the version that was completely safe and child-friendly. Soon, though, his distraction was over, and he was circling back to a topic you had hoped he’d forgotten.

“Daddy loves you. He told Uncle Azzy. And Uncle Cass, and Auntie Mor.”

“Well, now I know you’re telling me fibs.” Releasing your hand from the gearstick at the next red light, you reached it behind you, tickling at his tummy until he laughed loudly and kicked his legs, slapping at your hands weakly as he wriggled in his chair. “He would never tell Uncle Cass about his feelings, because Uncle Cass would tease him!”

“I’m not telling fibs, I’m not!” He gasped the words between breaths, face growing red, and you almost forgot you were sitting at the lights until a car honked behind you, forcing you to pull away. His laughter died down as the car started again, but he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He did tell him. He said that he loves you, and he thinks that you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

Your lips pursed, your heart betraying you once again, stomach joining as butterflies erupted until you felt lightheaded, and the weight of his stare on the back of your head was obvious without you even needing to turn. 

In a far less sure voice now, “Do you love daddy?”

You had no idea how to answer that question. You’d known he’d get curious about your friendship with his father soon, you’d just been foolish and selfish enough to hope it was his father that he asked, and so you wouldn't have to handle it. 

Of course you loved Rhysand, but that didn’t make it easy to explain. 

Rhys could never know, the wound of Feyre running away with Tamlin and abandoning Nyx was sure to still be raw, Rhys hadn't been on a date in four years, and if this conversation had confirmed anything, it was that Nyx wasn’t the best secret-keeper. 

Your words had to be chosen carefully.

“Your daddy is my best friend, so, yes. I do love him.” You thought you’d done well, until Nyx made a non-committal sound, another question all ready to go. 

“Does he make you smile?”

“Yes.” Your teeth gritted, the looming office building of the company HQ filling the sky as you pulled up to the security box, not even needing to roll the window down before the gates were buzzing open for you.

“And, do you think he’s the prettiest man in the whole wide world?” His arms flew as wide as they could, and you ignored how endearing it was, choosing a parking spot instead and focusing on your alignment. 

“He’s very pretty, Nyx. Just like you.”

“Then why can’t you be my mommy?” That question felt like a punch to the gut, the car shutting off, silence filling the cabin around you as the engine stopped and the singing CD paused. He was waiting, playing with his fingers and staring at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were wide, confused, and you hated that he felt that way.

“Let’s clean up your face, huh? You’re all dirty.” The words were pathetic, you hated yourself, because avoiding his question meant avoiding your own. You were taking the coward's way out, pulling two wipes from the packet in the dash to wipe at his face. He stayed silent, lips pursed in an unhappy pout, but he didn’t push it. The next time he spoke, it was as you were unclipping him from his car seat and lifting him towards the ground. 

“No, no, no.” He clung to you more, jutting out his lip and putting on puppy eyes he knew worked every time. “More cuddles?”

If it kept him effectively distracted, that was more than enough. Settling him in your arms and locking the car this time, the two of you set off towards the building, Nyx babbling in your ear about everything he could see around him so far.

Upon entering the lobby, his chatter cut off, head lifting from your shoulder to wave excitedly at the assistant behind the main desk. Long ago, you’d felt insecure stepping into this building in nothing but your jeans and a hoodie as everyone else wore dresses and suits and polished heels. Now, even as the elegant woman stood in her pencil skirt to lean over the counter to greet him, you felt at home. “Hi, Ana!”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day, little mister?” 

He only laughed, leaning out proudly to wave at her, and a new receptionist you didn’t recognise. “We’re here to see Daddy!”

She offered a knowing smile when you pushed his hair back just enough to show off the growing bruise, and turning to the intern beside her. “Take them up to the boss, and let him know.”

With a shaky smile and a polite introduction, she led your group over to one of the elevators, Nyx pulling faces and giggling over your shoulder at Ana the whole time. The ride up to the top floor consisted of Nyx counting the numbers off loudly, tickling them off on his fingers until he couldn't count anymore, and the doors chimed open at level twenty-six.

Guiding the both of you toward the boardrooms, you stopped outside of Rhys’ preferred meeting room, the one with ‘the good coffeepot’ he claimed, a smile flickering on your lips as you spotted his silhouette through the frosted glass while she knocked at the door.

As she entered, you could hear his voice pouring out, the back end of a speech on this year's profit margins that he’d practised on you a hundred times before today, only going quiet as all attention fell to her. “Sir, your wife and son are here.”

Your brows rose at her wording, still sitting high on your forehead as Rhys appeared, closing the door behind him and dismissing her thankfully. Left alone, his gaze flickered over you both, an emotion you still didn’t understand settling on his face when Nyx sat up in your arms, still cuddled against you. 

“Hi, daddy! I got a bump on my head, look!” Pushing his hand over his hair, he moved his fringe out of the way, Rhysand’s eyes going comically wide as he stepped closer to get a look at it. “I fell off the climbing frame!”

His frantic gaze swept to you as he ran a thumb over his son’s forehead, the other hand settling on your hip subconsciously, but all your attention seemed to fix on the way his thumb swept over your waist in a matching way. 

“I took care of it all, don’t worry.” You mustered the best smile you could, getting a whiff of his expensive work cologne when he dipped down to press a kiss to the same spot you had when tucking Nyx into the car. He examined the cut a little more, frowning at the mark on his son’s face, and you wanted to say something, to reassure him, to quash the thoughts about being a bad father that you knew were flying through his head. Before you could speak, though, he was acting once again.

He nodded, seeming to have already fought the war inside his own mind, and if the way his shoulder’s slumped from their tightened position, he’d won this one. Leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead too, your breath caught in your throat at the intimate brush of his lips over your skin. Rhysand had always been affectionate, this part of your friendship was nothing new, but somehow, it had become so much more than a flirty comment or wink. Your eyes fluttered shut, pressing selfishly into that hint of affection as it dragged on just a second too long, warmth coating your cheeks when he pulled back. 

“Give me five minutes to finish this meeting up, wait in my office.” His attention moved to his son. “You can get one toy out, just one.”

At the mention of the toy-box tucked away in the back corner of the office, Nyx’s face lit up, hands clapping together excitedly, and Rhys chuckled at him. “Do you need anything?”

“We’ll be fine.” You’d been to his office more times than you could count, knowing the building like the back of your hand. “Go finish up, gods know you didn’t make me suffer through your rehearsals a thousand times just to mess it all up now.”

He only smirked, adjusting his blazer and ruffling his son’s hair, cautious of his injury. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” Before you could respond, he was placing a quick kiss on your cheek, and backing away and returning to work, the door closing behind him. 

When you stared at his empty space a little too long, Nyx let out an impatient sigh. “I want to play with the racing cars, darling.”

“Hey, now, cheeky! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeling absolutely fine, and perhaps I should take you back to school!” 

Nyx burst out into more laughter, shaking his head and clinging to you. Even if his movements did make it harder to carry him, you didn’t care, grinning at the enthusiasm and excitement on his face. As soon as you had the office door open, he was squirming in your arms to get down, racing over to the box in the corner the second his feet were touching the floor. 

Tearing off the lid, you flicked the light on, shutting the door and frowning as he began to pile toys up all along the floor. “Nyx, your dad just told you only one toy. Pick one, put the rest back.”

“But the cars all count as one, I have to get the whole set out!”

“Nope. You know that’s not how it works.” He scowled, but remained silent, making a point of pulling out the black truck with flames on the wheels, the one you hated, because it made terrible sound effects of grating engines and monster trucks. Piling the rest of the toys back inside haphazardly, the lid remained off the box, and he switched the volume up, glancing at you as he did. You only granted him a sigh, collapsing down into the plush leather chair of Rhysand’s desk.

Five minutes of watching Nyx push the truck around the floor and over every surface as he made car sounds himself soon slipped into ten. He changed toys to a small fluffy dog, and at fifteen minutes, an action figure. Just as he was setting up for his meeting with the plastic army man, Rhys appeared at the door, tugging his tie loose and smiling when you straightened in his chair. 

Tucking the tie down into his suit pocket, he circled the desk, eyeing Nyx on the floor, who didn’t even bother to look up from his life-or-death mission. Taking a seat in one of the cushioned meeting chairs on the other side of the desk, he turned a questioning gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.

“He climbed too high on the climbing frame at school, and slipped when another kid tried to help him down. He got all checked out by the school first aid, he’s totally fine. No dizziness or headaches or nausea, nothing wrong. Just a bruise and a bump.” It didn’t stop Rhys from worrying, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as his gaze moved back to his joyfully-distracted son. “Rhys.”

He didn’t look up, biting down on that lip harder. With one hand, he popped free the button on his collar, and the one below, taking a deep breath. 

“Rhysand.” With a firmer tone, you managed to gain his attention, a reluctant stare shifting to you, and you held your hands out across the desk, palms up. Wiggling your fingers, he placed one hand in both of yours, sighing sadly at the look on your face as you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Nyx is fine, I made sure of it. I checked him out myself, signed the forms after reading them, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Look at him. He’s perfectly okay.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave work.” He whispered, ashamed gaze trailing to your joined hands, the edges of his lips barely flickering as you smoothed your thumbs over his knuckles. He squeezed a little harder, tugging a little closer, ensuring you weren’t letting go just yet. You’d had no intention to, anyway.

Tugging on your hands a little more, he guided you around the desk, back to your feet until you were standing before him, between his knees, and he could tip forwards to brace his head against your ribs. He still held tight to one of your hands, running his fingers over your skin now, but you managed to fight one hand free. With it, you patted his hair softly, smoothing over it until he let out a shaky but light breath. 

“Thank you.”

“You know I’d do anything for you two. Absolutely anything, you have nothing to thank me for, or say sorry for.” He only nodded, tipping his head up enough that the tip of his nose dragged over your skin, until his chin was propped there instead, glancing up at you.

“Not true, I’m thankful for you every single day.”

You willed your body not to react, not to give you away, other than the small smile you offered him, settling with your hand on the nape of his neck for a second. It was intimate, romantic, far too much for friendship, and the sudden flash of thought made your spine stiffen, and your hand retract down to sit safely on his shoulder instead. “Rhys?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Why does Nyx’s school have me listed as his mother?”

He blinked, once. “What?”

“When they called, they asked me if I was his mom, and I never got a chance to correct her before she was telling me everything. Then when I got there, she said it again.”

He was silent for a moment, before sitting up once again, disentangling himself from you and putting on an easy-going smile to match his shrug as he slumped back into the seat. “I have no idea. Maybe she just got confused, or forgot.”

“Okay…” You gave only a moment's pause, leaning yourself on the edge of the desk beside you, and crossing your arms. “Well, why does your receptionist think I’m your wife?”

“She’s new.” The words rolled off of his tongue so fast it was like he’d planned them, your brows shooting up a little. “I mean, you come in here carrying Nyx, and what else would she know?”

Despite his casual demeanour, a soft layer of pink tinged those tan cheeks, so faint you’d hardly notice it if you weren’t so good at reading him. His eyes studied you for a second, a deep look as he stared, gaze taking you in just as much as you seemed to take him in. There was a lull, a pause, like so many moments lately where the air seemed positively charged between you both, lingering on an adrenaline-filled precipice and just waiting for something to happen.

Rhys broke it, just a second before it would have become too much for you, too. Clearing his throat, he caught Nyx’s attention. “Why don’t we go and get some ice-cream, buddy? Put the toy away and we can go right now.”

“Before dinner?” The child’s eyes widened, throwing the army man into the box without a care for the way he slammed off of the wall, all love gone now at the mention of ice-cream. Clicking the lid back into place, you watched them interact in a daze, the joking and chatter becoming background noise. 

You’d never given yourself a chance to think before, too scared to get your heart broken and to lose them both, but a small flame of hope in the back of your heart had been steadily growing bigger and brighter, and it was starting to become hard to ignore. 

Only when a small hand slipped into yours did you snap out of it, Nyx swinging happily with one hand in yours and the other in his father’s, telling him all about the school work he’d done as Rhysand grabbed for his briefcase and coat. Once he’d acquired them, you were on the move, trailing through the building in much the same way, swinging Nyx between your bodies and letting him bounce excitedly at the prospect of frozen sugar before a healthy meal. 

As you wandered through the lobby, you took stock of yourselves, noting just how much the three of you really did resemble a family. The receptionist would be right to assume, simply from what it looked like. And, even if the teacher did know you hadn't been, from the number of mornings you’d dropped Nyx at school or picked him up at the end of the day, it could easily be misread as merely a development in a complicated relationship. 

Perhaps, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, and Rhys was right. 

The butterflies in your stomach died down to a heavy weight. One of both relief, and disappointment you refused to acknowledge, the hot flush of anxiety cooling into a steady calm, and you were finally able to take a deep breath once again as you reached the car.

“We just need to grab his bag and forms from my car, and-”

“You’re not coming for ice-cream?” Rhys’ head snapped up from where he’d been looking down at his son, brows furrowing at you, and Nyx fell silent, turning to stare up with an identical look of confusion. 

“You don’t like ice-cream?” He echoed in his father’s tone, the two were far too alike for your good, and Nyx was nothing if not a clone of his father. One silver lining had always been that Nyx seemed to be 99% Rhys, only getting 1% from his mother. It was the smattering of freckles over his nose that only came out in the summer.

“Of course, I like ice-cream.” You tapped at the tip of Nyx’s nose and he beamed.

“So, you’re gonna’ come with us, then?” Your gaze moved from him, to Rhys, whose brows only furrowed further. 

“What’re you lookin’ at me for? You know you’ve always got a place with us. Frankly, if you decided to move in tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Your eyes rolled, and when you were looking back at him, he was grinning. “What about my car?”

“I’ll drive you back here to get it.”

“What about work?” You motioned to the building behind you, and he opened his car door, motioning for Nyx to hop up into the back. 

“I own the company, I can take off an afternoon to be with the people I care about.”

“What about-” He leaned in close enough that your noses almost brushed, a smirk forming on his lips at the hitch in your breath, cutting off your words.

“Shut up, get in the car, and let me take my family for ice-cream.”

You couldn’t breathe, never mind form a response, that word ricocheting through the inside of your skull like a bullet. Nudging you to the side, Rhys opened the passenger door, motioning you too, until you were sinking into the spacious car and letting him close the door behind you. 

By the time he’d strapped in his son and gotten into the car himself, you’d regained your calm and your ability to speak. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m the boss.”

“Not in this car, you’re not.” You muttered under your breath, his chuckle only dulled by the purr of the engine as the SUV roared to life. Setting the car into gear, he cast a cheeky look in your direction. 

“Oh, I know. You’ve been calling the shots here since the day I met you, and I’m just fine with that.”

He settled a hand on your knee, innocently enough, after turning on kid’s songs to match your car to keep Nyx happy. He never flinched, never even glanced at his hand on you, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. The scariest part, was that it felt exactly that way to you, too.

Nothing about it seemed wrong, or off, and the longer you stared at his hand, the more you wanted to take it. To lace your fingers together, set your hands in your lap after kissing his knuckles. Despite your attempts to push it down, it was seeming more and more like your ignorance of your situationship with Rhysand was making itself known.

It didn’t make sense. You were perfect together, in every other way, so why had he never made a move in this way? The spike of confused pain through your chest stung like a needle through the heart.

The drive to the ice-cream parlour didn’t give you much time to think, everything today was too fast, not enough time to think or clear your head. Before you knew it, you were pulled to a stop, Rhys climbing from the car to release his son who was practically tearing out of his car-seat to get to his favourite dessert store. He could have done with the run, the walk, anything to burn off some of that energy, but Rhys scooped him up into his arms, pressing several kisses to his son’s head, who only moaned and pushed at his father’s head.

He didn’t want kisses, he wanted sprinkles.

Too bad Rhys was beating himself up again about it all. Freeing yourself from the car to alleviate his worries, you squeezed his arm as you stepped out, shooting him a look to tell him that Nyx was more than okay. “One bumped head does not make you the world’s worst dad. Kids have accidents all the time, but look how happy he is right now.”

He didn’t need to look, shuffling his son to his hip and reaching out for your hand instead as he nodded. Lifting it up, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before lacing your fingers together.

There was a bell tinkling over your head as Rhysand guided you into the cold store, looking for all the world, once again, like a real family, and you allowed yourself a few selfish seconds to eat it up. Finally, Nyx gained his freedom, darting over to the large glass display cabinet and plastering himself to the front of it as he took in all the flavours available today.

By the time the two of you had reached the front of the queue, he’d seemingly made up his mind, turning to stare at you both with a look on his face that could only mean trouble. 

“You pick what you want, bud?”

Rhys’ cautious tone meant he’d picked it up too, his hand squeezing a little tighter around your own when you chuckled, cutting you a glare as Nyx rolled on the balls of his feet and nodded. “I want the chocolate fudge, two scoops,” He held up two small fingers, for emphasis. “With chocolate sauce and the little fudge-chunk sprinkles.”

The woman behind the counter only laughed, staring down at him adoringly as he placed his hands on his hips, expectantly. Rhys’ eyes widened, his head shaking a little. “How about vanilla, with strawberry sauce, and rainbow sprinkles?”

“Ew, yucky, no.” Nyx’s face crumpled, and Rhysand’s jaw dropped, glancing from his son to you, and back. 

“It was your favourite last time.”

“But, this time my favourite is chocolate fudge with chocolate sauce and fudge chunks, Daddy!” Nyx stated it like it was obvious, and you tugged on your connected hands to bring an indignant Rhys’ attention to you. 

“Oh, let him have his chocolate-fudge extravaganza, he bumped his head.” Rhys’ only scowled, muttering under his breath about being ‘ganged up on’, before nodding to the woman behind the till but indicating for only one scoop. 

“You’re putting him to bed when he gets a sugar rush.” Was all Rhys could snipe back with, a smile forming on your lips against your control once again, letting him lead you over to the display stand as Nyx watched his ice-cream being constructed with rapt attention. Turning from the cabinet to you, he nudged his nose lightly against your temple, a feeling that had blood rushing to your cheeks and your head spinning at the intimacy. “The usual?”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke a little as you spoke the single syllable, and had you been capable of speaking properly at the time, you were sure you’d have been a little more embarrassed about it. 

“One raspberry victoria-sponge chunk ice-cream with, two scoops, and one triple-scoop rocky road.” He added to the order, the woman only nodding, piling them up on top of the counter as Nyx tried to reach for his, sparkles in his eyes as he stared at his sickly-sweet monstrosity in awe. 

Lifting it down for him, you stuck a wooden spoon into the cardboard cup holding it, a soft ‘thank you’ tumbling from his lips as he accepted it, cradling the pot patiently in his hands like it was a rare treasure. You remembered the same look being on Rhys’ face when he’d first held his son, the same tender and gentle astonishment, the shock in his eyes at something so special. You could only smile. 

“Darling,” Rhys tugged on your arm, your head snapping up from Nyx to look at him, only to find both his eyes and the servers on you. You hummed, brows raising, and watching Rhys balancing two ice-cream cones in his hand. “I said, can you get my wallet? It’s in my jacket pocket, your side.”

“Oh! Right, sure.” Twisting to him, he smoothed his thumb over your hand in silent appreciation as you rooted around the inside of his pocket, fingers brushing across worn black leather, and pulling it free. 

You were more than familiar with Rhys’ money and his cards, he often handed you a small fold of notes or one of his shiny cards whenever you took Nyx out or needed to buy something, refusing to ever let you pay, but you rarely held the whole wallet.

Flipping it open, your eyes scanned over the folds inside to search for the right card, but your gaze snagged on the fold of an image inside. Pinned lightly behind clear plastic, the image preserved perfectly, was a picture of you and Nyx. You remembered the moment clearly, you’d been out with the whole family, one of the rare moments that Azriel had been home at the same time Mor was back from travels and Cassian had a day off. Amren even freed the day up to sit in the park with you all, celebrating Nyx’s third birthday. Mor had been on her Polaroid camera hype, and you didn’t even know she’d snapped this picture. 

Nyx’s hands were on your face, pushing your sunglasses on upside down after he’d finished playing with them. He was stood between your legs, the sundress you’d worn that day still had small stains from the muddy bottoms of his shoes, but the smile on his face that was caught in the picture was worth it. You rubbed a hand over the plastic protecting it, treasuring that day with all of your heart, and uncovering Rhys’ writing at the bottom as you did.

‘My loves’.

“Darling, the purple card. C’mon, the ice-cream is getting warm.” He nudged you again, Nyx staring pleadingly from the ground below as he clutched his treat, still waiting, and you slipped the purple card out with your thumb. Tapping it against the car reader and being sure to add a tip to compensate for your daydreaming, you slid the card back, sliding the wallet back into his pocket as the three of you found a table.

Just because you could no longer see the picture, didn’t mean it, and, more importantly, the caption, wasn’t seared into your mind. My loves. If he truly felt that way, why hadn't Rhysand ever made a move? It didn’t make sense, you’d been here since before Nyx had even been born, almost a decade of best-friendship and flirty comments that never became anything more, while secretly harbouring a picture of you in his wallet and holding your hand, kissing your forehead and smiling in a way that read as far more than just friends.

You’d barely even settled into the booth before Nyx was digging into his ice-cream, and your hand finally being freed and you were given your cone. Twisting it around and towards yourself, your eyes narrowed a little on the chunk missing from the side, somewhere where an obviously large piece of cake had been pulled out, and your glare turned to Rhys.

“You ate some of my ice-cream?”

“We always share, stop acting so surprised about it.” He grinned, taking a large scoop from his own, and you scowled at him. 

“I hadn't even tried it yet, and you ate the best piece of cake!” He only smirked. 

“Do you want to try my ice-cream?” Nyx offered, and you turned to look at him across the table. His hand was gripping the spoon like he was stirring in a cauldron, the contents inside had been churned up into a gloopy mess, and he held a spoonful of it out to you, chocolate and fudge-covered cheeks stretched in a smile. 

“That’s okay, Nyxie, it’s all for you.” You passed your cone back to Rhys after unwrapping the napkin from around it. “Hold this, and don’t eat any more.”

He nodded dutifully, but eyed another piece of cake hidden within the ice-cream nonetheless, as he ate his own. There was a particularly large piece of dark chocolate with a marshmallow on the side of his own that he’d yet to notice, and you stored that away for revenge. Reaching across the table, you wiped at Nyx’s cheeks, unsure why you’d bothered since he was only going to end up in the same state again soon, but you did your best with the sticky mess anyway.

You gave up when he got ice-cream on your hand too, refusing to pause eating even when you tried to clean him up. Leaving the scrunched-up napkin on the table, his father only chuckled in your ear and handed you your cone back. Turning to him, you held out your other hand. Wiggling your fingers, his face pinched for a second, before he sighed, giving in. He pulled that same face every time, despite being right that you always shared, a victorious smile on your face. 

You made a point of turning the cone, flashing the delicious chunk of chocolate and marshmallow to him, watching his jaw drop to stop you, but not fast enough. Clamping your mouth down around it, you pulled the chunk free, chocolate melting across your tongue as you let out a moan of appreciation.

His eyes flared, leaning in and snatching his cone back, but leaving his face close enough to your own that when you licked over your lips, you almost licked him too. “You’re so cruel to me.”

“Payback is a… well, you know the saying.” You smirked, ensuring not to swear in front of the child across the table from you both, and he only growled a little. His eyes flickered over your face, every spot his gaze touched made your skin burst out with heat, lingering for a moment on your mouth. He smirked, raising a hand, and brushing his thumb along the edge of your mouth as he pulled back a fraction.

“You missed a spot.” He breathed, thumb slipping to settle on your chin instead, and his eyes found yours once again. The air between you both crackled like it never had before, electricity sparking between you both again, but so much more intense. “I, uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you lately...”

“Yeah? Well, we never see each other, I can see how it’d be hard to find the time.” You teased, his softly sighed laugh brushing over your face as his gaze held yours. Smoothing his thumb along your jaw until he was cupping your face, it was only when a drop of ice-cream dripped from your cone and onto your finger, the cold sending a jolt through you that made you gasp and snap back. 

Glancing down at it, you winced, licking away any more drops that looked like they may fall, and using Nyx’s napkin to wipe your fingers. When you turned back to Rhys he was facing the table again, eating his ice-cream and acting as though nothing had happened. The bubble was broken, whatever he was going to say he clearly wasn’t planning on anymore, and so you let it pass.

You ate your ice-creams together, conversation steadily flowing onto other topics, far safer ones, no doubt, and you did your best to clean up Nyx’s face once again. Smears of chocolate covered his cheeks, and you knew Rhys would have to scrub it off later before bed. 

The ride back to the office was where you grew to regret convincing Rhysand to allow Nyx’s choice, his sugar rush beginning to kick in at full force. He screamed his songs at the top of his lungs, loud enough to make you both wince as you drove, bouncing chaotically in his seat and threatening to break right out like a miniature beast. 

The hand, now sitting on your lower thigh rather than your knee, squeezed at a particularly loud shriek as he played with the window settings, up and down, up and down. “This is your fault.”

“I know!” You wailed, glancing back at Nyx, who was all but vibrating as he rocked side to side, giggling hysterically to himself. “I figured the sauce would be sugar-free, and fudge isn’t that much sugar, it’s like-”

“It’s half sugar!”

“What?” Your eyes widened a little, turning to look at Rhys with wide eyes, and he contained his laughter as he watched the road, trying to tune out the din from the backseat. “Regardless, I apologise for this.” There would be no calming him now.

Rhys rubbed his hand up and down your thigh softly. “I already told you, that's your problem. You think I’m going to let you go home and leave me with this?”

“I have some very important work to do-”

“Liar.” He called your bluff, and you scowled, turning your glare on his hand as it set warmth firing along all of your nerves. 

When he finally pulled back into the parking lot, it was considerably emptier than it had been when you’d left, and he spun to park across two full spaces into place beside your car. He left the car with a happy sigh, closing the noise that his son was making inside the vehicle, and rolling his neck from side to side. Finally, he opened his son’s side, lifting the boy from his chair and setting him on the concrete, where he immediately began to jump up and down, holding onto his dad’s hand.

The pair accompanied you to your car, retrieving the school bags and taking them back to their own while you gathered the correct forms from the glovebox, meeting him by the back of the SUV that made your car look tiny in comparison. You pressed them into his hands, and he tucked them into the front pocket of Nyx’s bag, setting his son off to put the bags away, who remarkably, did as told.

“I know you said no thanks, but, thank you for today. I mean it, you were so wonderful. You’re always so wonderful, I couldn't do any of this without you.”

“Any time, Rhys. You know that.” He shrugged, hands tucking into the pockets of his smart pants, leaning against the side of the car only a foot away from you.

“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less lucky to have found you, and to get to keep you in my life.” 

Small padding of feet came rushing back, bags no longer in sight but a picture clutched in his hands to be held up in the air as he came to a stop. It was decorated with pieces of glued-on dried pasta, glitter and sequins, and some splatters of paint. The most important part, though, was the drawing at the bottom. 

You’d grown used to his style of drawing now, easily able to pick out what each scribble was supposed to be, or rather, who each scribble was supposed to be, and the attempt at writing underneath. It didn’t matter, though, because he was quick to enthusiastically point it all out. 

“Look, look! It’s us! This is daddy, in purple. And this is you in blue, because it’s your favourite colour. And this is me! I’m wearing a crown.” His chest puffed up proudly, the broken piece of pasta on his head acting like a crown, and you traced the words written in matching colours under each figure. 

Daddy. Nyx. Mommy.

Casting a look up, Rhys was staring at the paper, a horribly crushing mix of longing and pain in his eyes as he stared at it, throat bobbing in a swallow, before he was blinking it away. He’d always been good at playing another role, hiding his feelings when he needed to, but you’d caught him too many times. 

All the pining and want, you’d always assumed it had been for Feyre, for the missing woman who had birthed his son, but when his eyes met yours, the façade cracking just a touch, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe it was for you. Whatever it was today, this last few months, it was something new. It was like those walls you’d built up were finally crumbling, he was fighting through his own, and he let out a shaky sigh. 

He let Nyx lower the photo, occupied with admiring his artwork. He leaned down, lips finding your cheek and lingering there in a soft kiss. You hooked a finger under his chin, twisting his head up until your noses were brushing, his eyes snapping open wide before you, as your lips brushed lightly. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I was thinking about kissing you.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you second-guessed yourself, second-guessed it all. His hand found your hip, smoothing around to sit on your lower back and tugging you close enough that your chests pressed together, his forehead resting on yours. 

He didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop you, he just gave you your chance to decide. 

So, you did. 

You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a delicate kiss that set your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and drew a soft noise from Rhys as he tightened his hold on you. After only a second of hesitation, he kissed you back, a push and pull with his lips that was as intoxicating as it was grounding. You felt like you were floating, tethered only to him as you gave into a desire you never thought you could have, his lips melding to yours in slow drags. 

It felt like it went on forever, and you were certain that you could easily have stayed there, just like that, for the rest of your life. 

When he let you breathe, when your mouths fell only an inch apart, you wanted to nudge closer to him once again, to seal yourself back to him, to sink into him wholly and entirely and never come apart again. If the tight grip he had on your hip was any indication, Rhysand felt the same way.

The fog cleared after a few moments, and he shifted back some more, eyes fluttering open once again, and this time, they were filled with questions. Swirling in the violet like a storm brewing at dusk, and you lifted a hand, running a finger over his cheek lightly, and smiling when his head tipped into your touch. 

“I’m so telling Uncle Azzy that you kissed Daddy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin, having forgotten about the babbling little boy at your feet, who was now staring up at you both in nothing but shock and smugness, one hand planted on his hip as the picture that had sealed the deal hung limply from the other.

“Daddy and-” You scooped him up before he could even get started into that little riddle, the taunting making your cheeks warm, even if he was only four, and making your way back toward the car. Rhys shuffled along behind you in a silent daze, holding the door open for you and standing by as you tucked Nyx back into his car seat. He never gave up on his childlike-smirk. 

“How about some dinner, huh? A little someone can have his favourite mac n’ cheese.”

“It's me! It’s me!” He cheered happily, and you took the opportunity while his arms were raised to strap the belt around his waist, sealing him back into the chair as his arms strapped through the other two. “I’m calling Uncle Azzy tonight. And Uncle Cassie.”

“You do that, Nyxie.” You bopped the end of his nose, switching on the small TV set that was attached to the headrest to face his way, and watching it load up. You could feel Rhys’ stare burning into you, like a fire crawling along your skin, impatient and needy and desperate for answers, making you grateful for this small distraction as you scrolled the shows on the tablet.

Like a warning, a warning not to make him wait much longer, Rhys settled one large hand over your hip, squeezing tightly and tugging you a fraction out of the car towards him, a shiver travelling down your spine. You hit play on the first show up. 

Backing out of the car to close the door, you didn’t get far, Rhys didn’t move, only pulling your body back into his with the grip on your waist, slamming the door shut for you and leaving you pressed to him. In a quick spin, he had your back pressed to the cold metal of the car, out of sight of his son and closed in by your own, the cold metal making for a relieving contrast to the heat. 

“Do it again.” There was a pleading note to his voice, his sights fixed entirely on your mouth now as he bit down on his lower lip, his forehead coming to rest on yours. “Kiss me again.”

You took your time, teasing him just a little, by running your hands up his arms, over his shoulders as he tensed, until you were holding his face. He sagged closer to you, like he couldn't even hold himself up anymore, pinning you between his body and the car. With a sweep of your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes closed, noses brushing in sweet motions until he gave an aggravated breath at the waiting.

At long last, you gave in, closing the gap between you both once again. This time, he let out a soft moan when your mouths connected. He kissed like a man starved, like a man who had waited every moment of his life for this. It was like your first taste of air after being underwater, his mouth insistent and unrelenting, like he was memorising the way it felt to kiss you.

You gave him all you had, committing every part of him to memory too. Every sound he made, the way he panted against your lips before diving back in, teeth scraping your lower lip and sucking softly, before following it with a sharp nip. He ruined everyone else, no kiss you’d ever had compared to this and nothing else ever would. 

When his tongue smoothed over your lower lip, you were forced to pull back, to try and think somewhat clearly, one of you had to, because if you let this go on anymore, you weren’t sure you could stop. His hand was already shifting, exploring, dragging his fingertips up your spine to tangle in your hair, and you lowered yours to his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to take a breath that didn’t taste like him. 

He groaned, licking over his swollen lips to take away the taste of you, his eyes darker than before when they found you again, and you pressed your lips together to fight temptation. “You should… you should get our boy home.”

At that, he blinked, his gaze softening endlessly at the endearing claim, and his hand let your hair go to slip back to your back. Pulling you closer, he pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, nodding against your temple as he left a kiss there too. When he pulled back, it was to simply stare. There was nothing hidden now, the kind of dumb-in-love look shining in his eyes that you couldn't miss. Had it always been there, and you’d just never seen it before, or had he just stopped hiding it?

“You okay, Rhysie?”

He melted into you at the nickname you rarely brought out, eyes shining as he continued to stare. “So, so very okay, darling.”

Silence lingered between you both, the same comfortable quiet it had been since day one. No matter what, no matter how anxious or nervous or rattling, Rhys always had a way of making you feel at ease. You felt so vulnerable, and yet so safe with him, voice coming out in a whisper to speak into the gap between you both, “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

“Are you going to ask me if we can have carbonara with chicken for dinner again?” He teased, putting your nerves even more at ease, or maybe it was for his own, by making a joke. 

You indulged him, “It’s a classic for a reason, because it’s so good. Besides, who said I’m coming for dinner, anyway?”

“You think there’s any way I’m going to be able to let go of you now?” He mumbled, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder instead, and you chuckled, feeling his lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder through your jumper. “What did you really want to ask?”

That brought the nerves back in full force. “Why did nothing ever, y’know, happen between us?”

His head snapped up, eyes widening to look at you, but no words came from his parted lips. 

“Don’t you ever think about it, Rhys? I mean, look at us. There’s so much that would work, and I guess-”

“Of course I think about it.” He breathed the words in a rush, and your jaw snapped shut as words finally began to pour out of him, unrestrained and uncontrolled. “I think about it all the time. Every minute of every day you’re on my mind.”

“Rhys…” He let out a slow breath, but there was no stopping him now. You’d uncorked the bottle, the contents unable to be stopped from spilling. 

“Since the day I met you all those years ago, I knew that I would hold onto you for the rest of my life. I couldn't let you go. But, I was a stupid kid who just inherited a company, and I was terrified of that. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. You just dropped into my life and filled holes and cracks I didn’t know I had, you made me feel complete. I fell for you, so hard and so fast, and I was so godsdamned scared of that.” He looked away, unable to look at you any longer, and swallowing thickly. 

“So, we became friends…”

“So, we became friends.” He repeated, sighing like he couldn't hold the weight of the world anymore. “I thought, selfishly, that I could hold onto you as my best friend, until I was ready for more. That it would be fine. I was too slow, though, and you started dating Lucien.”

Your mind flickered back, hardly remembering the man you’d been with for only a couple of months almost six years ago, flashes of red hair and tanned skin in your mind recalling it.

“He was good to you, and I hated that. I hated him, but I wanted you to be happy. But, I was so miserable. I was so sickeningly, maddeningly, obviously in love with you, and I had to do something before you noticed. So, I dated Feyre. It wasn’t… we moved too quickly, too fast. I threw myself into it and then she got pregnant. Nyx came along, and she abandoned him. I thought I’d lose you too. I was scared again, but you stayed. You helped with everything, you made it better.” 

His voice started to crack, and so your arms raised, looping around his neck, pulling him in until his forehead was pressed to your own. 

“I wasn’t scared when you were there. You taught me everything, you stayed for every step. I knew within days that you should have been Nyx’s mother, that being with you like this was all I’d ever want, I started to want everything cliché, a white picket fence and a little house of our own and a street where Nyx could learn to ride a bike with us. I mean, I picked out the house you liked best from the viewings even though it was gonna cost so fuckin’ much to renovate and repair and clean, but it was so worth it.” He laughed emptily, and you sniffed back tears.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, I never told you. I wanted you to see your dream house without the guilt.” He rubbed at his nose, and you kissed his cheeks, feeling him smile under your lips as you did, stopping the tears clinging to his lashes from falling. “But, you were still with Lucien, so I settled to take what I could get. If having you as my friend, helping me raise him like this, was all I could ever have, I’d take it. Then, you weren’t, and I thought maybe you’d be heartbroken about your break-up, or sad, and I wanted to give you time. I gave you too much time, I was a coward, I was nothing but a lonely man who already had a son. I couldn't offer you all the things you wanted anymore. I couldn't travel or go out and party or do anything. I’m always working or with my boy, and I didn’t want you to be forced to take that on.”

You were shocked, his candour had left you breathless, and he sniffled lightly, blinking away the tears he was unwilling to let drop. “We broke up because of you.”

“What?” He let himself look up, to you, of all the expectations he’d seemingly braced himself for, this obviously wasn’t it.

“Lucien and I. He- he said, understandably, that it felt strange to have a relationship with a woman who was practically a part of another family. It made him feel like some sort of home-wrecker. He didn’t say it, and he never would’ve, he was a good man, but it was a choice. You and Nyx, or him.” Giving the best smile you could despite the emotions overwhelming you, he matched it with a watery laugh. “I didn’t even have to think about it. That’s why I was never sad.”

“You chose us.”

“I’ll always choose you.” Your smiles were real this time, shared and intimate and frighteningly tender. “So, the real question, is whether you’re still sickeningly, maddeningly in love with me?”

“You forgot ‘obviously’. I can’t believe you don’t know it, I haven’t been subtle. I tell everyone you’re my wife, and let them believe you’re Nyx’s mom.” Your scoff only made him smirk, smacking at his shoulder lightly, pushing him away only to have him grip you tighter, tugging you closer to him. 

“I knew those weren’t ‘little mistakes’, or miscommunications!” He only shrugged, dipping back in, every intention clear as he moved slowly. 

“I intended to tell you today, and so many other times, but I was always so scared of losing you.” The confession hung between you both, the unspoken promises and words as he tried to give you a chance to leave, to back away, to call it too much, but you didn’t. 

You let him kiss you, let him kiss you until your lungs burned for oxygen and your head was spinning, and it felt like hours had passed by as you learned one another’s mouths. You let him kiss you until you were sure he understood that you felt the same, that you always had.

“I still love you. I will always love you. You don’t just get over this kind of love.”

You could only grin at him, cheeks aching but you didn’t care, because you couldn't have contained your happiness even if you’d wanted to. “Good, because it would have been horrible if my feelings were unrequited.”

“Never.” A few more stolen kisses, mumbled promises between them. “So, you’ll follow us home for dinner?”

The leap in your chest at the word home was enough to make you breathless, the knowledge you now had that he’d chosen it just for you, in hopes you’d one day live with them. It was almost too much to bear. “Only if you’re making carbonara. And garlic bread.”

“I’ll make you anything you want if it means you’ll keep kissing me.” You hummed, pressing another peck to his lips before managing to disentangle yourself, despite his complaints and tight hold.

“I’ll see you soon, where we can continue this.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much.” He winked, looking messy and kiss-ruined as you stepped back to fully take him in. His shirt was rumpled, his blazer was a little askew, and his cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips to match. 

He was perfect. 

“Hurry home to us, darling.”

💜 starshine pt. VI 💜

Rhys x Reader

part I part II part III part IV part V part VI

summary: when after more than a century, things finally begin falling into place.

notes: I can't believe how long this took - both writing this next part and the actual things happening *facepalms*. and these twoooo 😭💕. I can't. they make me feel so mushy and happy and all giddy and warm. and all of you, loving this so much, make me feel even more mushy and happy and giddy, so thank you so much for staying with me on this!! if everything goes to plan, this is actually the second to last chapter, and we are, finally, getting somewhere ;)

______________________________________________________________

With a sharp inhale, my eyes snapped open, and my breath staggered.

The sheets were clinging to my skin, damp with cold sweat, my heart pounding painfully against my ribs as blood rushed through my ears and my gaze darted over a high, dark ceiling and for a second, panic and a dull pain rose in my chest, my body frozen still.

Then I realised that a weight was resting over my stomach and a scent was flooding my senses, so achingly familiar, my muscles melted.

Quickly, I turned my head, and my lungs squeezed.

In the silvery light of the moon shining through the windows, I could see Rhys' dark shape stretched out on the mattress next to me, the dips and planes of his muscular back rising and falling slowly with his even breaths. His head was resting on the pillow next to me, his face turned my way, brows smoothed over and eyes closed, his dark hair unruly and tousled, swirls of darkness stretching over his broad shoulders and down the arm that was loosely resting over my waist, his skin radiating warmth through my thin nightgown.

My heart soared before free falling, and I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, fighting against the echoes of screams and laughter in my ears, the feeling of cruel darkness and bound magic and hands slipping away into nothingness.

Suddenly, the air felt too stiffled, too stale, too reminiscent of the nightmare that had been reality.

Hastily, I slid out from under Rhys' arm, pushing the covers to the side and slipping off the mattress, my feet quick on the cool floorboards as I darted over to the huge windows soundlessly, tearing at them until they were open and a soft, cool breeze brushed over my skin.

My heart squeezed tightly, and I breathed in, quick and deep, the scent of sweet petals and night leaving an ache growing in my chest as my gaze darted over the garden below that was bathed in starlight, flowers glowing and faeries floating over the water reflecting the galaxies above.

My fingers curled around the window handle before loosening, and something in my chest quivered when I let my forehead sink against the cool wooden frame and squeezed my eyes shut.

I could still feel the heavyness on my chest, the ache pulsing under my ribs as images flashed before my eyes, and something closed around my throat.

Sliding my hand off the window, I looked over my shoulder towards the bed, and the ache in my chest soared at the dark shape still motionless on the mattress, breathing evenly.

Fighting against the sudden pressure in my throat, I moved, quickly slipping past the bed and out of the room.

The house was silent as I hastened soundlessly down the stairs, my long sleek nightgown swishing around my ankles as I slipped past the table and opened one of the big windows leading out onto the terrace. The gentle night breeze whispered over my bare arms and shoulders, and I squeezed out into the night, the stone of the terrace cold under my feet as I moved down the steps before it was replaced by cool, soft grass.

Faeries were swishing through the glowing flowers, darting towards me and showering me in golden dust, tittering softly and curiously before whizzing away again.

Slowly, my steps calmed, and I closed my eyes, breathing in the fresh air, feeling flowers and high grass brush my hands, warmth slowly spreading through me that seemed to stem from the earth itself.

Next to the pond that reflected the galaxies twinkling over the mountains, I let myself plop down into the soft grass, stretching out and staring up into the sky. My palms pressed against the earth, and I closed my eyes, focusing on the soft hum of energy that slowly travelled through me, golden light lazily flooding through my veines until my chest squeezed and my breath shuddered.

My heart tipped over; I opened my eyes, and movement at the edge of my field of vision made me turn my head.

Something rose and pulsed gently under my ribs when I saw the dark figure standing on the terrace.

Even from a distance, I caught the moment violet eyes clocked me by the pond, bare shoulders sinking a little, swishes of darkness whispering into nothingness as Rhys' gaze pierced mine. Then he moved, beginning to slowly walk down the steps.

Resting my cheek on the grass, I watched as he came towards me, movements smooth and elegant, his tousled hair black like ink in the night, violet eyes reflecting the silver and purple above. His pants were sitting low on his hips, and something twisted in my stomach at the sight of shifting muscles disappearing into black fabric.

The silk of his pants swished against my skin when Rhys crouched down and let himself plop down onto the ground next to me. Then his shoulder brushed against mine and he stretched out on the grass, one of his hands sliding up to rest on his stomach. His body dwarfed mine even shoulder to shoulder, my feet barely level with his shins, and I stared at the side of his face as his gaze dragged slowly over the night sky above, something dipping and swerving, squeezing and fluttering in my chest as my eyes flickered over his nose and lips, the sharp line of his jaw and cheekbones, and suddenly, my breath hitched in my throat.

“What happened?”

Rhys' quiet voice, deep and a little raspy with sleep, tore me out of the pulsing feeling under my ribs, and when I blinked, he turned his head to look at me.

I tried to swallow against the flutter in my throat, the ache in my chest that staring at him had awakened. Rhys seemed to misinterpret my silence, one corner of his lips tipping up gently as his gaze slowly moved over my face.

“As far as I know, you don't usually wake up in the middle of the night to lay around on the cold ground.” There was a soft twinkle in his eyes, but it couldn't hide the barely there crease between his brows, and something dipped in my chest when my shoulder brushed his and I felt a clenching sensation in my chest that wasn´t mine.

I blinked again, and the soft ache under my ribs pulsed.

“I had a dream.”

Rhys' gaze moved over my face. Then his quiet voice vibrated through me, gentle and even.

“What kind of dream?”

Something closed around my throat like an iron fist, and I stared at him, feeling a weight settle on my chest and pressure rise in my throat and eyes.

“The mountain,”, I whispered.

Rhys blinked, and I could see the muscles in his shoulder shifting, growing still.

“It used to be worse.” I tried a lopsided smile, but it felt weak, and a little uneven. “But it still comes back, once in a while.”

Rhys stared at me. Then he mumbled softly: “What do you dream of?”

Something started skipping painfully under my ribs.

“I see the faeries.” My whispered words were barely audible as my gaze dragged over Rhys' face, trying to ingrain every angle into my memory as pressure began to rise in my throat. “Caught and chained, tortured and mutilated in the revel. And I can't help them. I'm caught in the crowd, and I try to move, but no matter how much I fight, it's like I'm watching from outside my own body. And their pain breaks me apart.” My voice was weak, the images rising in front of my eyes causing the ache in my chest to grow.

“And then I see you.” My whisper broke as the pressure in my throat became unbearable, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from Rhys' face, even as my vision blurred and my lips quivered.

“And she's torturing you, and I can't move. I can't get to you. And I try to tell you, scream at you that I'll get you out, but I can't speak.” My breath trembled as the ache in my chest spread, taking over every inch of my body until my voice broke and I felt something hot run over my cheek.

“And then I wake up, and I'm alone. Seeing you, finding you, was all a dream. And I can't feel you.” I inhaled quickly, hotly, my chin trembling. “You're gone.”

Through blurry eyes, I saw Rhys stare at me, still, frozen. Then a muscle in his cheek shifted, and he rolled onto his side; his warm, calloused hand slipped up my neck to cradle the side of my face, and Rhys leaned down to press his forehead against mine.

“I'm here.” His deep, husky voice travelled through me, vibrating with sorrow yet so steady and firm, my breath shuddered.

My eyes squeezed shut as the ache in my chest rose and overwhelmed me, and I twisted, wrapping my arms around Rhys' shoulders, clinging to him as I buried my face in the crook of his neck and felt hot tears roll over my cheeks, the ache in my chest pulsing.

“Look at you,”, Rhys mumbled hoarsely, his hands sliding over my waist as he slipped his arms around me, pulling me tightly into his chest. “Really thinking it'd be that easy to get rid of me.”

A wet laugh bubbled in my chest.

“Wouldn't it?”

“No.” Rhys' mumble was steady, if only a little rough when he dropped his nose into the crook of my neck, causing a gentle shiver to travel over my spine. “You know I'm too much of a selfish bastard for that.”

I inhaled shudderingly, feeling my lips rise weakly as I whispered into his skin: “No, you're not.”

“I am.” A calloused hand slid up over my back, the arm around my waist pulling me in tighter as Rhys curled around me and buried his nose at my shoulder, his low voice vibrating through me as he mumbled steadily: “Even if my soul was dragged from this world, I would still claw my way back to you.”

Something rose in my chest, wild and violent, and my eyes opened, a curtain of tears leaving the world blurry as Rhys' quiet voice washed through me.

“No one will ever keep me from you, take me away from you again. Wherever I go, it'll only be with you.”

My heart soared before giving out, and I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders, feeling my leg slide over his waist as his tall body curved around mine.

“Sounds impractical,”, I whispered thickly, my breath hitching and causing my voice to break a little.

Rhys' lips curved against my skin.

“We'll make it work.” His quiet words vibrated through me, steady and soft. “I'll just have to follow you like I always have.”

My chest tightened harsly as warmth pulsed through me, and I whispered, soft and weak: “What if I go somewhere you can't follow?”

Rhys slid his arms closer around me, burying his nose against my skin as he mumbled back hoarsely: “There's no place in this world, or beyond, that you could go where I wouldn't follow.” I could feel him swallow, then he added softly: “I'll always find a way to you.”

My heart tightened as my breath caught in my throat, and I clung tighter to him, feeling his body shielding mine as I curled into his chest and turned my head to bury my face in his neck, squeezing my eyes shut, my body shuddering with my exhale and the weight of tears pressing on my throat.

“Why?” The whispered words were trembling, thick, spilling past my lips before I could stop them, fueled by the ache rising under my ribs. But Rhys just swallowed, his deep voice soft in a hoarse mumble.

“You know why.”

My heart twisted and rose, higher and higher. My breath caught in my throat, and my lips quivered as I hastily burrowed my face in his neck and tried to breathe against the ache pulsing under my ribs.

The breeze whispered through the trees, faeries floating over the pond as the stars twinkled in the sky. Rhys held me until my lids were heavy, tears dried on my cheeks, my heart thrumming steadily against my ribs. Then he gathered me in his arms and moved to stand.

Something rose under my ribs, and when I pulled back just a little, my arms still slung around his neck, Rhys dropped his forehead against mine, his breath fanning over my skin as he turned.

My heart swelled in a flutter, and I clung to him, his arms holding me steady as Rhys started to walk back towards the house. I curled my arms around his shoulders and squeezed my eyes shut, feeling warmth pulse through me, strong, steady, Rhys' nose brushing my cheek when he pressed his forehead against my temple, carrying me up the stairs.

☆

I woke with the gentle morning breeze brushing over my skin, the scent of daybreak dew and fresh air filling my lungs, and my body buried in a warm chest, with the heavy weight of arms slung around me tightly and a scent in my nose that, even in the haze of sleep, made something tumble under my ribs.

My breath hitched softly, and I opened my eyes. My gaze focused on sunkissed golden skin and dark twisting tattoos over strong collarbones, and a muscled arm cushioning my head.

My heart toppled, and something in my stomach dipped.

You know why.

Rhys' hoarse voice echoed through my head, and suddenly, the flutter in my chest grew until there was a soft ache pulsing under my ribs.

Feeling a weight on my throat, I turned, sliding out of Rhys' arms as carefully as possible. My heart was thrumming against my ribs when I slipped out of the room, and trying to fight against the chaotic whirlwind in my head and chest, I moved down the stairs.

Golden morning light filtered through the windows facing the front garden, painting patterns onto the carpet and the books filling the shelves. I dragged open the window doors leading out onto to the terrace, breathing in deeply as my gaze moved over the garden dipped in the first golden sunrays, fairies whizzing through the air, carrying dew drops, giggling and tittering, and my heart skipped softly against my ribs.

Filling the kettle and putting it onto the stove, I pulled a pot from the cabinet, and a cup. Then, my hands no longer busy, I slowly turned, leaning back against the counter as my fingers flew over the cold marble, up to the ends of my hair before settling for fiddling with the thin strap of my nightgown as I stared into the garden, my heart pounding in my chest.

You know why.

Something in my stomach tumbled.

I did.

I had for a while, had felt the thought looming, bright and powerful somewhere under the surface. The beginnings of a realization, a vague shape, like an unspoken thought, a distant knowledge that I refused to grasp.

Because acknowledging it, just thinking it out loud would mean something so big, so terrifying it made something squeeze in my chest.

An explanation as to why Rhys had kept coming back to me. For the way he stared at me, the twinkle in those violet eyes, for that rising feeling in my chest I couldn't place and that radiated from him, for the closeness, the touching, the blatant flirting and the things he said, casually, easily, so so sure.

It made something rise in my chest.

There was something, a reason, a realization, just under the surface. And it terrified me.

Because what if I was wrong?

What if what Rhys was supposedly feeling was just fleeting, or not at all what I made it out to be?

What if what I was seeing was what I wanted to see – and not what was really there?

Something closed tightly around my chest as the flutter in my chest rose, soared higher and higher.

It would mean a broken heart.

My breath shuddered, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

Gods, I'd been an idiot. Not realising, maybe refusing to see how my soul reacted to the male with the stars in his eyes, how my whole being seemed to respond to him.

I had fallen. Maybe slowly over the span of a century, maybe with a crash the first time I'd met him and felt him behind those walls.

Something squeezed under my ribs. It twisted before rippling away soundlessly, and a trembling breath left me as I opened my eyes and stared out into the garden, wide-eyed and utterly terrified.

I loved him.

Maybe, it had always been there, lurking under the surface, in the way my breath seemed to hitch whenever I stared at him and he smiled.

I loved him. Was in love with him. So fiercely, so deeply, so all-consuming that it made my chest thrum, caused my heart to twist and soar, until the feeling filled my body. Slowly, creepingly, it had taken up every part of my soul and my being. Had made him a part of me, his pain, his anger, his sorrow, his happiness, all mine in a way nothing had ever been before. Had made him beginning and end and everything in between.

I loved Rhys.

“Shit,”, I whispered softly.

There was a low, deep chuckle behind me; and I jumped and whirled around.

Rhys crunched his brows against the light, purple eyes tired and twinkling, his voice, rough with sleep, vibrating through me when he mumbled with a smirk: “Ouch. Not usually the way I'm greeted.”

My fingers dug into the counter as I stared at him in shock, trying to breathe, my eyes wide and my heart pounding against my ribs. There was a pillow crease on his cheek, which I hadn´t thought physically possible, his hair was tousled and muscles were shifting under his bare skin as he moved past the table and rubbed his eyes.

Suddenly, heat was washing over me, and I tried to tear my gaze away, pull myself together. But my body refused to listen, stayed frozen in the spot as I stared at him wide-eyed, my breath hitching harshly, and Rhys slowed to a stop. His gaze flickered over my face, and a soft crease formed between his brows.

“Darling?”

Maybe my shields had never been any good, and he'd been able to sneak past them all this time. Or maybe, the feelings whirling in my chest, the chaos and panic in my mind, were simply too loud, too strong, bursting through me, echoing outwards at a volume that meant he didn't even need to be in my mind to hear them.

Either way, Rhys stilled. Became frozen in the spot as he stared at me. Then his eyes shifted.

Turned swirling and bright like the galaxies in the night sky as the crease between his brows melted away into nothingness and he exhaled like he'd been waiting for a century.

“All this time.” His soft voice was hoarse as his gaze dragged over my face, slightly feverish, drinking me in. “And you still didn't see.”

My heart dropped and I could feel my lips part – then something in my chest shifted, and soundlessly, a wall crumbled.

A barrier of the mind, built around the male a few feet away, slowly collapsing into itself.

My heart caught in my throat, and my eyes darted up and widened as something in my chest rose.

I could feel everything.

Emotions so strong, they took my breath. Twined together so firmly, they were barely discernable, desperation, adoration, want, need, twisting together into something hot and rising, growing into something all consuming.

I'd always felt Rhys, but never like this; had never felt his emotions, so deep and powerful and clear that they turned my doubts and fears to stardust, the ache in my chest blowing away into the sky, until my breath shuddered and my heart settled.

I inhaled softly, feeling my lips part as the emotions that weren't my own pulsed in my chest, steady, firm, unrestrained. Then I raised my head, and Rhys swallowed, his iris a night sky as his gaze dragged over mine, deep and feverish and swallowing me whole as he mumbled hoarsely: “There it is.”

A soft, breathy giggle bubbled in my throat as I stared at him, feeling pressure building in my throat and a flutter rising in my chest, growing with every second.

My fingers shook a little as I took a hesitant step forward, followed by another, and another, my eyes darting over Rhys' face, my heart swelling. He had grown completely still, like the smallest move could scare me away, like there wasn't something pounding against my ribs and swelling in my throat, causing tears to rise into my eyes as I lifted a hand and placed my palm on his chest.

The feeling of Rhys´ warm skin sent a shiver down my skin, just like the quick, racing beat of his heart as I stared up at him, feeling my bottom lip wobble a little even as I started to smile, slow and beaming. Then I opened myself and the whirlwind under my ribs.

Rhys' eyes widened.

A shuddering breath ran through him, and his hand flew up to cover mine, fingers curling around mine, holding on almost desperately, like he was afraid I'd pull away, break the thrum of emotion flooding through me into his body. Then a soft sound broke from his chest, and Rhys moved, forward and forward until my arm was trapped between us and the whole of his body pressed against mine, his free hand sliding up to cradle my face, and my heart caught in my throat when he dropped his head to press his forehead against mine.

The flutter in my chest rose, and I quickly squeezed my eyes shut and breathed out shakingly.

Rhys made a soft, hoarse sound deep in his throat, his hand slipping down the side of my neck, fingers sliding into my hair as he pressed closer, and my heart shuddered. I could feel his body towering over mine, the way the muscles in his biceps shifted when his fingers slid closer around my hand, his warm chest pressing against mine -

Heat twinged low in my stomach, and my fingers curled against his chest.

A gentle shudder ran over Rhys' warm skin, and my breath hitched when he dipped his head to the side, his nose brushing against mine.

My heart rose into my throat, and I swallowed, my hand uncurling slowly as I slid my palm down his chest. I could feel his muscles tensing under my touch as a shiver ran over his skin, his fingers twisting into my hair, and a tingle travelled down my spine when Rhys slowly nudged his nose against mine.

Something dropped very low in my stomach, heat rising up my body.

I swallowed, my free hand rising to cling to Rhys' side, and when I pulled my head back a little, just enough to look at him, his breath grazing my skin, my heart rose.

Rhys' eyes were glazed over with a heat that made something twist in my stomach. His iris was hazy and a few shades darker under heavy lids, a muscle in his jaw shifting and throat working, and his gaze was molten where it was glued to my lips.

My breath caught in my throat.

Even when Rhys had stared for too long before, something heated in his eyes, it had always been brimming under the surface, never quite so obvious.

Now, nothing was hidden. His breath was uneven, his lips parted and throat working, and his eyes, heavy lidded and dark, were swirling, feverish, wanting -

Rhys' fingers curled into my hair, and my body shuddered, something whirling and rising under my ribs as I dug my fingers into his skin and raised my chin without having control over it, Rhys' hot breath grazing over my skin when my nose nudged against his.

A deep sound rose in Rhys' chest, his eyes shifting into something even deeper and darker, and his hand slid into my hair when he dipped his head, his nose brushing against the side of mine, tantalizingly slow. Something clenched harshly in my stomach when I felt his hot breath grazing my lips, and a tingling shiver ran down my spine when I sank back down onto my heels and Rhys followed me, calloused hands pulling me closer and head dipping to -

"Hello?", a melodious, happy voice chirped from the terrace, and my heart jumped; my eyes flew open as I lightly pushed at Rhys' chest and whirled around, and Mor walked through the open window doors.

"Anyone he-", her gaze met mine, and she slowed to a stop, one corner of her lips quirking cheekily.

"Am I interrupting?"

My heart missed a beat, and I hastily looked back over my shoulder, only to find Rhys' eyes on me like maybe, they had never left. There was a twinkle slowly spreading through his iris, and my heart rose in a flutter, because something had changed, obviously, something in that thrum against my ribs, and yet -

I narrowed my eyes in a soft glower, and Rhys slowly started to smile, lazy and brilliant.

"What are you doing here, Morrigan?" His deep voice rumbled through me even with him a foot away, his twinkling eyes never leaving my face.

Mor crunched her brows, seemingly completely unbothered as she turned in a circle with a flourish.

"Well, you hadn't even told us this place existed until yesterday, and -", she looked over her shoulder, smiling brightly, "I was curious." Her twinkling amber eyes found mine, and her smile softened, though the light in her eyes seemed to brighten. "It's beautiful."

Something rose under my chest as my gaze flickered towards the garden without me being able to help it, my breath catching in my throat. "It is."

I could feel the weight of eyes on me, a tingle travelling over the side of my face, and I blinked, clearing my throat and grinning sheepishly at Mor. "Sorry, didn't really expect anyone -"

"Obviously." Mor's lips twitched into a smirk as her eyes moved from Rhys, lounging against the counter in only pyjama pants and staring at me, towards my long nightgown, and I winced and quickly crossed my bare arms in front of my chest, feeling heat rising in my cheeks as I crunched my nose.

"You want some tea?"

"You know, actually,", Mor turned fully towards me and raised her brows, "I also came here because I thought it could be fun if I showed you the city today?" Her lips twitched, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Have some one on one time, if Rhys isn't too bothered by that." She winked at me.

"Why would I be bothered?" Rhys' eyes stayed on my face, one corner of his lips curving upwards.

"Well, you did keep her from us for more than a century, without telling us about her even once; which, by the way, is ridiculous." Mor's lips curved. "It's almost like you were afraid we'd steal her away from you or something -"

"Can we get breakfast?", I quickly interrupted, because Rhys' eyes had started to twinkle in a way that made shivers dance down my spine and something twitch in my stomach.

Mor turned her gaze away from Rhys, her knowing smirk bleeding into a genuine, beaming smile when she widened her eyes.

"Obviously! I'll show you all the good places, and more; do you have your dress yet?"

I blinked, then I turned my head towards her and crunched my brows.

"What dress?"

Mor parted her lips. Then she sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes, turning towards her cousin with an exasperated look.

"Rhys, you prat; you haven't told her?"

Rhys stared at me, his violet eyes twinkling when he said, deep voice absentminded: "Was busy."

Mor huffed, her lips quirking. "I bet you were."

Rhys just lightly rolled his eyes, and I quickly mouthed prat?, causing him to glare softly at me.

Don´t you dare.

Feeling a slow, beaming smile take over my face, I widened my eyes and mouthed prat, and Rhys huffed, his lips curving until a wide grin made his cheeks crease.

Mor cleared her throat, and I quickly tore my eyes away from Rhys' face, feeling heat bleed into my cheeks when my gaze met Morrigan's, her eyes twinkling knowingly.

"Haven't told me what?", I said quickly, bouncing on the balls of my feet lightly and fighting against the blush growing on my face.

Mor sighed, but her lips curved as she raised her brows. "Summer Solstice."

My heart rose in a flutter, and my gaze darted towards Rhys as my lips parted.

"You - you celebrate that here?"

"Well, not on a huge scale like Summer and Day,", Mor waved her hand dismissingly, "but Rhys has started throwing a party every year still, because, well -", she smirked, "any excuse for a party is a good one."

Rhys' lips curved softly as his eyes pierced mine, a twinkle in their violet depths that made my breath hitch.

"Anyway, he holds it at the River House -"

I blinked before raising my brows.

"Another house?" I felt my eyes widen slightly as my head whipped around and I stared at Mor before quickly looking back at Rhys in disbelief, but he just shrugged, his smirk feline.

"Anyway, when we started doing the celebration, we decided to hold it there because the garden is just beautiful this time of year, though,", Mor turned to look over her shoulder, her eyes almost wistful, "definitely not as beautiful as this one."

My breath hitched as my gaze followed hers, and something fluttered against my ribs.

"The longest day of the year."

Rhys' voice made my heart dip, quiet like only I was meant to hear, and I blinked before tearing my eyes away from the garden, something rising in my chest when I found his twinkling eyes on my face.

"I know." I felt my lips curve softly even as I suppressed the urge to swallow, my eyes moving over his face. "The fairies dance through it, all night long."

Rhys' gaze pierced mine, deep, twinkling, like maybe, he could see the memories of midsummer nights in a wild garden and a dress whirling around my ankles.

"Maybe they'll dance with us if you're there."

I stared at him, and my heart began to slowly flutter against my ribs, more wildly with every second as I started to smile slowly.

"Is that your way of asking if I'll come?"

Rhys stared at me, something swirling in his eyes when he mumbled, slow, deep, steady: "Will you come?"

My breath caught in my throat, and I blinked. Then I widened my eyes and whispered cheekily: "I don't think I have a dress."

Rhys' gaze heated. But before he could open his mouth, Mor chimed in, beaming happily.

"We can get you one! Today; I mean, it is in two days, but I'll take you to the best dressmaker of the city, you'll love it; and she'll have it done in time!"

I felt my lips part quickly, but before I could even make a sound, there was a soft huff; a familiar scent washed over me, and fingers slipped under my chin, closing my mouth again.

"Don't even think about it."

My heart jumped and eyes darted up, and Rhys' lips curved.

I huffed and twisted my neck to get a better look at him, feeling my brows crunch in protest, but Rhys just sent me a wink. "You know arguing is pointless. I´ll get you a dress one way or the other."

Glowering up at him even as something jumped high in my chest, I narrowed my eyes even further when he smirked and dipped his head to mumble: "Just say thank you."

His warm breath brushed over my nose, and my heart dipped.

Staring up at him, I scowled gently. Then I turned my head and sent Mor a brilliant, cheeky smile. "Thank you, Mor."

Rhys huffed, sending me a glare, and Mor smirked and winked.

"My pleasure." She raised her brows and clapped her hands. "Alright, let´s go! Though you,", her lips quirked, "might want to change first."

When I moved back down the stairs a few minutes later, dressed and tying off my braid, Mor was crouched in the middle of the garden, watching the faeries that seemed a little weary but curious when she beamed at them.

"You know she's going to put you through trying on dozens of dresses?"

My heart skipped, and my gaze darted towards where Rhys was leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of tea in his hand and one corner of his lips curving as his eyes raked over my face.

"So?" I felt my lips quirk.

Rhys' iris twinkled.

"A lot of it will be Night Court fashion." His gaze dragged slowly over my body, one corner of his lips curving into a slow, lazy smirk. "It usually means little fabric."

I stared at him as heat pooled low in my stomach, and suddenly, something started fluttering against my ribs violently.

Slowly, I began to walk backwards towards the terrace, sending him a growing, mischievous smile.

"If you want to see me scantily clad, you just have to ask."

Rhys' gaze darted up, his gaze narrowing in and growing dark and heated, and feeling my heart catch in my throat, I smiled beamingly and turned around with a breathed laugh, hopping out onto the terrace to meet Mor at the foot of the steps.

☆

Feeling a breeze brush some hair into my face, I breathed out softly, the warmth of sunlight dappled over my face making my lips curve without my doing.

"So..."

I blinked before opening my eyes and lowering my head, and Mor crunched her nose, looking at me curiously. "What's so special about Summer Solstice?"

We were sitting on the steps of a fountain, the water splashing and bubbling in our backs, a thin paper bag between us on the grey cobblestone, smelling of the buttery pastry I had bought in a shop in one of the countless alleys.

Mor had kept her promise, taking me for breakfast in a small café right at the Sidra. Then she had pulled me into the maze of alleys, streets and squares.

First, she'd taken me to the workshop of her favorite dressmaker, located in a beautiful townhouse in the Rainbow, the artist's district. It belonged to tall, slim High Fae who was clearly familiar with Morrigan, and who had, very happily, pulled all the stops when Mor had winked at her.

Mor had made me try different silhouettes, and I had wandered the aisles and aisles with fabrics, my breath catching at the colors and stitchings. We'd agreed after a while, and when we left the shop, there was a rough sketch and fabric sitting on the dressmaker's desk and my heart was beating against my throat.

Now, the afternoon sun was shining in the sky over the small park that stretched over a little hill surrounded by tall sandstone buildings, their roofs glittering in the light. Trees rose into the sky, offering shade, sunlight was dappled in swaying patterns onto the grass and cool stone of the fountain where we had decided to take a little break, and my feet were aching and my heart was full.

I needed a second to tear my eyes away from the sight of the city stretched out before the mountains. Then I blinked and crunched my brows, looking over at her.

"What do you mean?"

One corner of Mor's lips curved gently. "You just... you looked so surprised."

I felt my heart rise in a soft flutter against my ribs, and I hesitated for a second, then I turned my head and gently narrowed my eyes at her curiously.

"How long have you been... celebrating it like this?"

Mor furrowed her brows, shrugging softly as she plucked a piece off her pastry.

"Not long actually. I think Rhys decided to make it a new tradition not quite a century ago, fairly out of,", she blinked, her words slowing as her eyes suddenly began to twinkle softly, "thin air..."

I stared at her, a quick flutter beginning to build in my chest.

"What does it mean to you again?" Mor stared at me, her lips curving.

"It's..." I swallowed softly. "It's a celebration. Held by the fairies, every Summer Solstice. They gather and dance, from evening until deep into the night. All of them, sprites, pixies, nymphs, wraiths, all coming together, celebrating light and life and -" My breath hitched. "Magic."

Mor's warm eyes were glittering.

"You think he -" My voice broke off, my breath catching in my throat.

"Started celebrating it here because of you?" Mor's lips tipped upwards, and she blinked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes twinkling in the light. "That does sound awfully like him."

Feeling my heart pounding against my ribs, I stared at her, something suddenly tingling in my stomach.

Mor's smile widened a little. Then she blinked.

"You know, he never told us about you." She raised a brow, her iris sparkling. "Not once."

I huffed gently.

"I know." Shaking my head softly, I turned my head, crunching my brows gently as I blinked into the sunlight. "He told me about that, after I got mad because he turned up, winnowing in even though he was badly wounded and exhausted,", a breath left me, "idiot."

Mor giggled, and I felt my lips curve.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mor´s gaze flicker over my face, warm and bright. Her throat worked. Then she whispered softly: "Thank you."

I blinked. Something in my chest rose and tightened as my gaze darted towards her, and Mor breathed out, her smile a little uneven when she stared back at me.

"I've known Rhys practically my whole life." She furrowed her brows gently, her eyes swimming with emotion. "He's always carried - a lot of weight on his shoulders, and it just got more when he became High Lord. He always took on everything, had to be strong, for everyone. He lets us know when things are heavy, but - he never fully lets us in." She huffed. "He doesn't want to burden us." Shaking her head gently, she hesitated before looking over at me, one corner of her lips rising gently.

"But then he started disappearing, just for a few hours, sometimes more, sometimes less. He never told us where he was going;", she raised her brows, "I always assumed he was just - taking a breather somewhere, taking some time by himself. But whenever he got back, he had that light in his eyes." Her iris started to twinkle as she stared at me.

"That was you." She blinked, her voice a little hoarse when she whispered: "You saved him. Because you saw something in him he lost the ability to see. And because when you showed him that, he believed you. Because he saw something in you too. That same thing that makes him stare at you like you put the stars into the sky." She swallowed gently, and her eyes flickered over my face. "It's like with you, he can just be."

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at her, something suddenly tight in my chest.

"He told you all of that?", I whispered.

Mor's lips quirked gently.

"Not everything. But enough." Her gaze flickered over my face. "He told us about you only after he came back from -" She broke off, her eyes welling with grief. Then she looked back up at me, her iris shimmering as she raised a corner of her lips.

"He was - a wreck, when he got here. But you - you kept him afloat. He was waiting for you. It felt like he was holding his breath. And then you turned up and..." She breathed a brilliant smile. "I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."

My heart rose against my ribs, and Mor sniffled and beamed. "It's like he's come back to life, in a way he's never been before. Like something has - settled, fallen into place."

Something welled over in my chest, and I turned my gaze ahead, fighting to swallow against the pressure in my throat as I stared down the hill and over the roofs of the city, glittering in the sun, trees swaying gently in the breeze.

"Yeah,", I whispered.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mor's gaze move over my face, bright and warm. Then she turned back ahead as well, and together, we stared over the city.

"It's beautiful,", I mumbled softly.

Mor´s lips curved upwards, her voice a little hoarse when she mumbled back: "It's the Court of Dreams."

☆

The sun was disappearing beyond the mountains, painting the skies pink and violet, the first stars twinkling high above when I slipped through the gate and breathed in the scent of flowers and grass and warm evening air.

Mor had dropped me off at the winding street before winnowing away, pulling me into a hug so tight, my ribs cracked, but I had just squeezed her back, feeling the scent of her perfume rising into my nose and her hair tickling my skin.

Slowly making my way around the house, I inhaled deeply, feeling warmth spread through my chest when I saw fairies whizzing through the air over the pond, giggling and chasing each other.

"You took your time."

My heart rose against my ribs, and Rhys, lounging on the steps leading up to the terrace, watched me, his violet eyes reflecting the stars blinking in the sky when he lightly raised a brow. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me, leaving me here all by myself -"

A soft snorted laugh built in my chest, and I sent him a cheeky grin. "I'm sure you were perfectly fine entertaining yourself for once."

"I wasn't. I got so bored I actually went to do some work."

Giggling softly, I gently kicked his leg before plopping down next to him, breathing in deeply. His scent rose into my lungs, and my heart missed a beat.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rhys' twinkling iris flicker over my face. "Did Mor drag you from shop to shop until you fainted from exhaustion?"

I crunched my brows and looked over at him. "Why, do you think I look the part?"

Rhys' lips curved.

"Did you find a dress?" His gaze drank me in as a crease formed in his cheek, and I stared back, my breath catching and my heart thrumming against my ribs.

"Yeah." My voice was a little soft, a little breathless as I tried not to stare at the curve of Rhys' lips and the small dip in his cheek, his skin glowing in the sunset.

"And?" His voice trickled over me, slow, deep, matching the volume of mine as his gaze dragged over my face, heated, swirling.

I felt my lips tick up as I shrugged one shoulder gently, innocently. "What?"

Rhys stared at me, his arm brushing against my back, sending tingling shivers down my body, and slowly, one corner of his lips curved. "Where is it?"

I huffed softly. "Not yet made."

"Shame." Rhys' eyes were twinkling. "You could let me take a peak."

I widened my eyes and whispered with a bright, cheeky smile: "Where's the fun in that?"

Rhys slowly started to smile brilliantly, his eyes crinkling, and my breath caught in my throat.

For a second, we stared at each other, something trumming in my chest and twisting in my stomach, then Rhys blinked, his eyes never leaving mine as he mumbled: "I think I might have to take the couch tonight."

I could feel my brows crunch in confusion. "Why?"

A deep crease formed in Rhys' cheek, his iris twinkling as his gaze dragged over my face. "Because I'm not sure I would be able to control myself if I saw you in that flimsy nightgown again."

My heart dipped, and suddenly, something hot trickled down my spine.

"I could leave it off."

Rhys' iris hazed over, a rough sound breaking from his throat, and I hastily bit onto the inside of my cheek as a laugh bubbled in my chest, mixing with a rising, fluttering feeling.

"Beast,", Rhys mumbled, his husky voice leaving something twisting down in my stomach.

I shrugged, feeling my lips curve as I turned my gaze back towards the garden. "I mean, if you can't handle it -"

Rhys' gaze narrowed in on my face, became deep and twinkling, and something toppled in my chest as I nearly bit down onto my lip, wondering what on earth I had been thinking.

Swallowing it down, I looked over my shoulder, and Rhys stared at me, gaze molten and dark as slowly, a slight smirk made his lips curve, playful and mischievous.

"Is that a challenge, darling?"

My breath caught in my throat, and my heart swerved sharply.

I blinked, then I shrugged softly, smiling back cheekily. "I don't know, is it?"

Rhys breathed a deep chuckle and leaned forward, and I felt myself freeze when his warm breath brushed over my lips. Then he gently nudged his nose against the side of mine and mumbled, his lips almost brushing my cheek: "Careful." He pulled back just enough to stare at me, his violet iris reflecting the sky as they dragged over mine, twinkling. "I don't lose."

"First time for everything,", I whispered back breathily, feeling my heart rise into my throat, and Rhys slowly started to smile.

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @stayinglow-exploringworlds @tcris2020 @lizziesfirstwife @brandywineeeee @t0uch-starved-h0e @sharknutz @valencia-rou @twsssmlmaa @waytoomanyteenagefeels @luvmoo @starrybeesandlibraries @corvusmorte @marmorjorts @bubnix @wallacewillow0773638 @ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger @secretlyhers @icey--stars @awritingtree @cult-of-enji-todoroki @oksloan3 @emotional-loner @azrielslefttoe @ladybirdbeetle7 @brujitafantomatico @jurdanpotter

HOME TO US | rhysand

summary; rhys and nyx are a family of two, but they're both pretty hell-bent on making it into a trio, with you.

word count; 12,151

notes; I have no idea how this got so long? I planned for it to be like 4-5k, and @azsazz can vouch for that. also big shout out to @acourtofwhatthefuck for proofreading this for me when I just had no motivation, but I needed this one to be perfect.

Fate had always seemed to have the worst timing for you.

Whether it be relationships, the sunny skies turned to rain, or simply this; balancing precariously on a stool and getting startled by your own phone, which you could have sworn was on silent mode. 

Blaring out across the shop in a sudden burst of cheery notes and tones, you almost dropped the stacks of books in your hands, cursing a little as it vibrated in rhythm in the back pocket of your jeans. When the call persisted after the usual three rings signalling a cold caller or market salesperson, you sighed. 

Shifting the books to one arm, you fished the phone out before it could go to voicemail, wondering just who would be calling you so urgently at this time of the day. The question didn’t linger for long, though, as your eyes widened at the caller across the front of the screen. 

‘Velaris Young-Education Prepatory School’.

A ridiculously fancy name for an elementary school, you thought it every time you saw the name, and yet right now, your heart skipped a beat as you pressed answer. Bringing it to your ear as you shuffled the books in your arms more, you lowered yourself down from the ladder carefully. 

“Hello?”

“Oh, hello! Is this Nyx’s mother, (Y/N)? It’s V-Y-E Prep.”

The woman on the phone sounded somewhere between relieved and panicked, and your heart leapt into your throat a little at her tone. “Well, yes, that’s me, but-”

“Oh, good, we weren’t able to get in touch with dad, I was worried I wouldn't be able to get a hold of either of you.” She cut you off before you had a chance to finish, your lips clamping shut as she let out a sigh of a laugh. “I’m Nyx’s class teacher, but he’s had a little bit of an accident today, do you think you’d be able to come and pick him up from the reception?”

Your heart felt like it stopped in your chest entirely. “An accident, what kind of accident, is he okay?” 

“Oh, he’s fine! He had a fall during playtime, and he bumped his head. There’s a mark, and a scratch we’ve cleaned up, but he’s understandably a little shocked and upset. We know dad can get… concerned,” 

Understatement of the century, you wanted to butt in, because Rhys was more than just concerned. He was overprotective, in an endearing way, but he tended to freak out over the smallest things. Then again, it didn’t help when teachers said things like ‘accident’ when it’s not so serious. Perhaps it was a good thing that they got you, not him. 

“So, we thought we’d give you a ring, and see if you could pick him up?”

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. You still had four hours left of your shift, and you felt terrible just ducking out, even if the store was dead, excluding the few people idling over lukewarm coffees in the connected café. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Wonderful, we’ll see you then.”

The line clicked dead, your eyes sliding shut as you let out a slow breath. You could have just said no, that voice in your head taunted, he’s not your child to fret over. And yet, the thought of his sad face lingered in your mind, triggering all those maternal instincts inside of you and sending them into overdrive.

“Sounds urgent.” Somehow, despite walking with a cane and always wearing heeled boots that clicked on the floorboards, Margaret had managed to sneak up on you. When you turned, the seventy-something-year-old was standing with a smile on her face behind you, eyeing the phone in your hand. 

“I’m sorry, Margie. It’s Nyx’s school.” You grimaced, lips pressing together into a thin line. She only laughed lightly, waving a frail hand idly in the air as if to bat the moment away.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I know what it’s like to have your child’s school call you up in the middle of the day.” Her smile only widened, her eyes glazing over a little. “Our Tommy was a terrible little troublemaker, I had constant calls about his behaviour. And our Jenny, well, she was the clumsiest kid you ever saw. Tripped over thin air.”

A wistful sigh escaped her, and your lips flicked up at the edges. You’d met both Thomas and Jennifer, lovely people, but just as she’d described. Jennifer seemed even more prone to bad timing than you, and Thomas had turned all that troublesome energy into bad flirting and a heated temper. 

“You do what you have to for your kids.” She’d finished her recollections, her voice snapping you from your own, and you could only nod.

“I know, but he’s not my kid. Not biologically, or in any way that matters. It’s not the same, and-”

“Hon, if I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.” Her words made a lump in your throat that was impossible to speak around, a quick flash of emotion swelling up that you were quick to fight against, but the sparkle in her eyes told you she’d seen in. “He may not have your genes, but he’s yours. So, go get your son. The store will still be here when you come back on Monday.”

“Are you sure-”

“Don’t make me force you out of this door.” She tapped her cane at your feet, just close enough that you could feel the floorboards vibrate under the harsh taps, a wordless threat, and a grin broke out on your lips to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Alright, I’ll see you Monday, then.”

She gave a curt nod, and you were flying through the store. Grabbing your bag and coat from the backroom on the way, you were out of the back door and at your car in less than a full minute. Only when you’d put your bags onto the seat and checked the car seat permanently attached to the back of the car did you get into your own seat.

How you’d gotten to this point, you had no idea. It hadn't been your intention four years ago when you’d first met baby Nyx, to end up with a box of his things in your trunk for emergencies, a child seat of your own in the back of the car and your name registered as a parental contact. Yet, as you stared, twisting to look at it and brushing your fingers over the fabric, you didn’t have a single regret about it. 

In fact, only a smile pulled at your lips as you thought about him. Him, and his father. Rhysand had been your best friend for many years, and his baby only seemed to bring you closer. You’d never have wished Nyx’s mother to have abandoned him, you loathed the woman every day for what she did to them both, but it had created a space in their lives that you’d somehow patched a part of up. 

When Rhys had needed support and guidance, you’d been there.

Now, you’d be there for Nyx, too.

As you started the car, flicking a glance back to check the mirrors on the seat were still aligned, Margie’s words flickered through your mind. 

If I’ve ever seen a mother, it’s you to that little boy.

They lingered on your mind for the entire drive, hanging over you like a cloud on an April day, unsure if it was going to rain, or simply pass by. Until you were parked outside of the school, hands still clenched tightly on the steering wheel as you stared up at the tall glass entryway only a few paces away. You couldn't see Nyx yet, not with the doors on the other side that truly sealed off the building, but you could make out figures and shapes on the other side.

Your eyes moved to the clock, the digit clicking over another number, and your fingers felt numb when you finally released them from the wheel. With another sigh, you released all thoughts about mothers and genes and Rhys. 

One day, perhaps, you’d confront them. Today wasn’t going to be it.

Stepping out of the car and swinging the door shut behind you, you didn’t even bother to lock it, as you took a slow jog up the main pathway before the school. The doors hissed open automatically before you, the smell of fresh cotton coming from the air freshener in the corner of the office, and the receptionist behind the desk looked borderline bored as she glanced up. 

“Hi, um- Hi. I’m here for Nyx.”

Her eyes widened a little, looking significantly more interested now as she took your name, and called through to the classroom. The thought almost amused you, had you not been so concerned. Rhys had quite the reputation around here, the big checks and hefty donations gained him and Nyx quite the special treatment, one that clearly seemed to pass onto you, too. 

The doors to the school buzzed open a second later as the magnetic locks released, and you stepped through. Sitting in one of the large plush chairs lined up along the wall of the office was Nyx, looking utterly swamped as his feet swung in the air, head bowed and hands clutching tightly to his backpack in his lap. 

At the scuffing of your shoes, his head snapped up, eyes wide and hopeful, turning to relieved as he saw you. He dropped his bag to the floor, moving to slide out of the chair but you were faster, dropping down to kneel before him. Up close, you could see more, enough to break your heart. 

His eyes were red, cheeks pink, tear-marks tracked into the smears of playground dirt and classroom muck on his face. When you brushed the edge of his inky hair back from his forehead, it was to reveal a cut across his forehead to his temple, bumped and bruised, growing into a lump on his head. His bottom lip wobbled, eyes growing shiny again. 

“Oh, Nyxie, did you get hurt?”

“Yeah…” His voice trembled as he spoke, sniffling lightly and wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. Patting his hair down once again, you tried to choke back the emotions clogging in your throat as a tall shadow fell across the both of you. With a glance, you confirmed that it was his teacher, looking more than a little nervous as she watched you take in Nyx for yourself. 

“We just have some forms for you to sign, and I can tell you a little more about his injury, and then you’re good to go.” At your nod, she let out a heavy breath, wiping her hands down subtly on her skirt.

“Nyxie, I’m just going to go sign some forms for you, okay? Do you want to wait here?” He shook his head, eyes widening a bit as his little hand clamped down onto your arm, gripping tightly and shuffling across the seat closer to you. “You want to come with us?”

“Can I have cuddles?” His voice was low and shy, your heart swelling a little more. 

“C’mere.” Opening your arms up for him, his damp cheek fell to your shoulder, nose tucking sweetly into your neck, and you scooped him up, his legs dangling on either side of your body as he slumped against your chest happily. Standing up with a little more effort than usual, Nyx’s hands patted idly over your knitted jumper, body bouncing with each step you took to follow her inside of the office. 

The forms were already laid out, four to be signed, and she pushed the first one over to you. “This one is just to state you acknowledge the injury, the second is a copy for you, because dad requested always having a copy of forms.” Her cheeks flushed with a little colour, the edges of your lips flicking up at Rhys’ quirks. “The third is just an injury form, that you know we’ve given you all the information, and you’re satisfied. The fourth, another copy.”

You quickly signed your name on the first two, pushing one over to her and keeping the other on your side. The pen hovered over the paper of the third, your fingers clenching a little on it, eyes flicking over the page. “What did happen, exactly?”

“Well, uhm…” You rubbed a hand over Nyx’s back, a soft affirmation that you appreciated how patiently he was waiting. Putting on a smile, you tried to put the woman at ease, not having meant to sound quite so… pissed. 

“I know kids have accidents, I didn’t mean to sound so… well, let’s just say, be glad I’m the one that picked up the call. Dad can be overprotective.” The boy in your arms giggled a little, and you placed down the pen, using your hand to now cup his head and rub at his hair lightly. 

“He was playing on the climbing equipment. I think he went a little too high, because he couldn't climb down. Another child was trying to help him, but before anyone could get over to him once we realised he was stuck, he fell off.” Her voice was a lot more confident now, and you were glad you’d been able to ease just a little of that tension. “I can take you out to the equipment and show you what happened, if you’d like?”

“That won’t be necessary.” You grabbed for the pen again, signing both pages, and she pulled one over towards her files as you gathered the other two. 

“Nyx was so brave, weren’t you, huh?” She swiped a finger over his cheek as she passed by to get the door for you again, and he nodded slowly against your body. “And he was so excited when he found out his mommy was coming to get him.”

There was that word again, all of those thoughts coming swarming back in a dizzying rush as you followed her. A hot blush settled on your cheeks, your mouth opening to correct her, before Nyx’s hands were bunching in your jumper as he let out another little giggle, making your lips snap closed again. He hid his face deeper in your shoulder. 

Stooping down to pick up his bags, his teacher placed it over your arm, swinging as you gripped paperwork in one hand and Nyx in the other. “I put all of his schoolwork in his bag. We’ll see you again tomorrow, Nyx!”

She held the door open for you, waving her goodbye as she watched you go, the receptionist looking far more alert now than she had earlier, smiling widely as the two of you left, and you could feel their gazes on you all the way to the parking lot. 

Putting down the paperwork and his bag on the top of the car, you opened it up, leaning in to settle him was like muscle memory now. No longer an awkward act but a practised one, as he slid from your arms and into the chair. Fastening the belt across his middle, you did the ones over his shoulders.

Eyes that were the same incredible shade of near-violet as his father’s were watching you, a ridiculously adorable smile on his face as you leaned in to press a kiss to the uninjured side of his forehead. Tucking his bags on the other side of him, you checked all his straps, not realising you were frowning yourself until his little fingers pinched at your nose. 

“Got a nose!” He whispered excitedly, waving his fingers in a way that was supposed to mock his uncle’s, the way Cassian would always tease that he’d ‘stolen Nyx’s nose’ to cheer him up. When you smiled at him, he pushed his hand back against your face, giggling to himself as he continued to imitate his uncle. “You can have it back!”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” You teased, rubbing over the bridge of your nose and taking him in. Once you were happy with his safety, you closed the door, taking only the paperwork with you and folding them in half, tucking them into the glovebox of the car for safekeeping. When the car turned on, your fingers went to the radio, and a single button pressed had some of Nyx’s favourite songs pouring from the speakers as the kiddie-CD in the player came to life. “We’ll go and see your daddy now, hopefully, he won’t be too upset about your head.”

The boy only hummed to his song, leaning to stare out of the window, breath fogging it up and one hand resting on the windows he watched his school be left behind. “Daddy will be angry with us?”

For all the fresh set of worries now swirling inside of your head at Rhys’ reaction, you’d never considered how Nyx would interpret your words. “Oh, no, of course not, baby. Never us. We make daddy smile, not frown!”

Reaching behind yourself as you came to a stop at the red lights, you squeezed at his knee lightly, retracting it only when the light went yellow. Another few minutes of quiet went past, the roads clear for the middle of the day as you drove, and Nyx was happily taking in all of the Velaris scenery as you passed by. 

From the small town outskirts and into the city centre, it was when you were almost there that Nyx stopped singing and decided to speak again. 

“I heard daddy tell Uncle Azzy on the phone that you make him smile like nobody else ever has.”

Your eyes widened, your foot nearly slamming onto the brake a little too hard as you turned a corner, and Nyx went back to singing his song. Your heart was picking up speed in your chest, the traitorous organ fuelled on hope reacting in a way you tried to resist. Your head was empty, it took a full minute to form your response, and you gave out a croaky laugh. “Were you being cheeky and listening to your dad’s private phone calls again?”

“No!” His voice sounded indignant, but with a look cast in the mirror onto him, you could see the cheeky smirk on his face. “He answered it at dinnertime! I got to say hi to Uncle Azzy. He’s in a whole different country right now, did you know that?”

You could only smile at the excitement in his voice as he spoke all about Azriel’s current escapades in Spain, or at least, the version that was completely safe and child-friendly. Soon, though, his distraction was over, and he was circling back to a topic you had hoped he’d forgotten.

“Daddy loves you. He told Uncle Azzy. And Uncle Cass, and Auntie Mor.”

“Well, now I know you’re telling me fibs.” Releasing your hand from the gearstick at the next red light, you reached it behind you, tickling at his tummy until he laughed loudly and kicked his legs, slapping at your hands weakly as he wriggled in his chair. “He would never tell Uncle Cass about his feelings, because Uncle Cass would tease him!”

“I’m not telling fibs, I’m not!” He gasped the words between breaths, face growing red, and you almost forgot you were sitting at the lights until a car honked behind you, forcing you to pull away. His laughter died down as the car started again, but he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “He did tell him. He said that he loves you, and he thinks that you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

Your lips pursed, your heart betraying you once again, stomach joining as butterflies erupted until you felt lightheaded, and the weight of his stare on the back of your head was obvious without you even needing to turn. 

In a far less sure voice now, “Do you love daddy?”

You had no idea how to answer that question. You’d known he’d get curious about your friendship with his father soon, you’d just been foolish and selfish enough to hope it was his father that he asked, and so you wouldn't have to handle it. 

Of course you loved Rhysand, but that didn’t make it easy to explain. 

Rhys could never know, the wound of Feyre running away with Tamlin and abandoning Nyx was sure to still be raw, Rhys hadn't been on a date in four years, and if this conversation had confirmed anything, it was that Nyx wasn’t the best secret-keeper. 

Your words had to be chosen carefully.

“Your daddy is my best friend, so, yes. I do love him.” You thought you’d done well, until Nyx made a non-committal sound, another question all ready to go. 

“Does he make you smile?”

“Yes.” Your teeth gritted, the looming office building of the company HQ filling the sky as you pulled up to the security box, not even needing to roll the window down before the gates were buzzing open for you.

“And, do you think he’s the prettiest man in the whole wide world?” His arms flew as wide as they could, and you ignored how endearing it was, choosing a parking spot instead and focusing on your alignment. 

“He’s very pretty, Nyx. Just like you.”

“Then why can’t you be my mommy?” That question felt like a punch to the gut, the car shutting off, silence filling the cabin around you as the engine stopped and the singing CD paused. He was waiting, playing with his fingers and staring at you when you turned to face him. His eyes were wide, confused, and you hated that he felt that way.

“Let’s clean up your face, huh? You’re all dirty.” The words were pathetic, you hated yourself, because avoiding his question meant avoiding your own. You were taking the coward's way out, pulling two wipes from the packet in the dash to wipe at his face. He stayed silent, lips pursed in an unhappy pout, but he didn’t push it. The next time he spoke, it was as you were unclipping him from his car seat and lifting him towards the ground. 

“No, no, no.” He clung to you more, jutting out his lip and putting on puppy eyes he knew worked every time. “More cuddles?”

If it kept him effectively distracted, that was more than enough. Settling him in your arms and locking the car this time, the two of you set off towards the building, Nyx babbling in your ear about everything he could see around him so far.

Upon entering the lobby, his chatter cut off, head lifting from your shoulder to wave excitedly at the assistant behind the main desk. Long ago, you’d felt insecure stepping into this building in nothing but your jeans and a hoodie as everyone else wore dresses and suits and polished heels. Now, even as the elegant woman stood in her pencil skirt to lean over the counter to greet him, you felt at home. “Hi, Ana!”

“What are you doing here in the middle of the day, little mister?” 

He only laughed, leaning out proudly to wave at her, and a new receptionist you didn’t recognise. “We’re here to see Daddy!”

She offered a knowing smile when you pushed his hair back just enough to show off the growing bruise, and turning to the intern beside her. “Take them up to the boss, and let him know.”

With a shaky smile and a polite introduction, she led your group over to one of the elevators, Nyx pulling faces and giggling over your shoulder at Ana the whole time. The ride up to the top floor consisted of Nyx counting the numbers off loudly, tickling them off on his fingers until he couldn't count anymore, and the doors chimed open at level twenty-six.

Guiding the both of you toward the boardrooms, you stopped outside of Rhys’ preferred meeting room, the one with ‘the good coffeepot’ he claimed, a smile flickering on your lips as you spotted his silhouette through the frosted glass while she knocked at the door.

As she entered, you could hear his voice pouring out, the back end of a speech on this year's profit margins that he’d practised on you a hundred times before today, only going quiet as all attention fell to her. “Sir, your wife and son are here.”

Your brows rose at her wording, still sitting high on your forehead as Rhys appeared, closing the door behind him and dismissing her thankfully. Left alone, his gaze flickered over you both, an emotion you still didn’t understand settling on his face when Nyx sat up in your arms, still cuddled against you. 

“Hi, daddy! I got a bump on my head, look!” Pushing his hand over his hair, he moved his fringe out of the way, Rhysand’s eyes going comically wide as he stepped closer to get a look at it. “I fell off the climbing frame!”

His frantic gaze swept to you as he ran a thumb over his son’s forehead, the other hand settling on your hip subconsciously, but all your attention seemed to fix on the way his thumb swept over your waist in a matching way. 

“I took care of it all, don’t worry.” You mustered the best smile you could, getting a whiff of his expensive work cologne when he dipped down to press a kiss to the same spot you had when tucking Nyx into the car. He examined the cut a little more, frowning at the mark on his son’s face, and you wanted to say something, to reassure him, to quash the thoughts about being a bad father that you knew were flying through his head. Before you could speak, though, he was acting once again.

He nodded, seeming to have already fought the war inside his own mind, and if the way his shoulder’s slumped from their tightened position, he’d won this one. Leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead too, your breath caught in your throat at the intimate brush of his lips over your skin. Rhysand had always been affectionate, this part of your friendship was nothing new, but somehow, it had become so much more than a flirty comment or wink. Your eyes fluttered shut, pressing selfishly into that hint of affection as it dragged on just a second too long, warmth coating your cheeks when he pulled back. 

“Give me five minutes to finish this meeting up, wait in my office.” His attention moved to his son. “You can get one toy out, just one.”

At the mention of the toy-box tucked away in the back corner of the office, Nyx’s face lit up, hands clapping together excitedly, and Rhys chuckled at him. “Do you need anything?”

“We’ll be fine.” You’d been to his office more times than you could count, knowing the building like the back of your hand. “Go finish up, gods know you didn’t make me suffer through your rehearsals a thousand times just to mess it all up now.”

He only smirked, adjusting his blazer and ruffling his son’s hair, cautious of his injury. “I’ll be with you soon, darling.” Before you could respond, he was placing a quick kiss on your cheek, and backing away and returning to work, the door closing behind him. 

When you stared at his empty space a little too long, Nyx let out an impatient sigh. “I want to play with the racing cars, darling.”

“Hey, now, cheeky! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were feeling absolutely fine, and perhaps I should take you back to school!” 

Nyx burst out into more laughter, shaking his head and clinging to you. Even if his movements did make it harder to carry him, you didn’t care, grinning at the enthusiasm and excitement on his face. As soon as you had the office door open, he was squirming in your arms to get down, racing over to the box in the corner the second his feet were touching the floor. 

Tearing off the lid, you flicked the light on, shutting the door and frowning as he began to pile toys up all along the floor. “Nyx, your dad just told you only one toy. Pick one, put the rest back.”

“But the cars all count as one, I have to get the whole set out!”

“Nope. You know that’s not how it works.” He scowled, but remained silent, making a point of pulling out the black truck with flames on the wheels, the one you hated, because it made terrible sound effects of grating engines and monster trucks. Piling the rest of the toys back inside haphazardly, the lid remained off the box, and he switched the volume up, glancing at you as he did. You only granted him a sigh, collapsing down into the plush leather chair of Rhysand’s desk.

Five minutes of watching Nyx push the truck around the floor and over every surface as he made car sounds himself soon slipped into ten. He changed toys to a small fluffy dog, and at fifteen minutes, an action figure. Just as he was setting up for his meeting with the plastic army man, Rhys appeared at the door, tugging his tie loose and smiling when you straightened in his chair. 

Tucking the tie down into his suit pocket, he circled the desk, eyeing Nyx on the floor, who didn’t even bother to look up from his life-or-death mission. Taking a seat in one of the cushioned meeting chairs on the other side of the desk, he turned a questioning gaze to you, raising an eyebrow.

“He climbed too high on the climbing frame at school, and slipped when another kid tried to help him down. He got all checked out by the school first aid, he’s totally fine. No dizziness or headaches or nausea, nothing wrong. Just a bruise and a bump.” It didn’t stop Rhys from worrying, rolling his lower lip between his teeth as his gaze moved back to his joyfully-distracted son. “Rhys.”

He didn’t look up, biting down on that lip harder. With one hand, he popped free the button on his collar, and the one below, taking a deep breath. 

“Rhysand.” With a firmer tone, you managed to gain his attention, a reluctant stare shifting to you, and you held your hands out across the desk, palms up. Wiggling your fingers, he placed one hand in both of yours, sighing sadly at the look on your face as you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, Nyx is fine, I made sure of it. I checked him out myself, signed the forms after reading them, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. Look at him. He’s perfectly okay.”

“I’m sorry you had to leave work.” He whispered, ashamed gaze trailing to your joined hands, the edges of his lips barely flickering as you smoothed your thumbs over his knuckles. He squeezed a little harder, tugging a little closer, ensuring you weren’t letting go just yet. You’d had no intention to, anyway.

Tugging on your hands a little more, he guided you around the desk, back to your feet until you were standing before him, between his knees, and he could tip forwards to brace his head against your ribs. He still held tight to one of your hands, running his fingers over your skin now, but you managed to fight one hand free. With it, you patted his hair softly, smoothing over it until he let out a shaky but light breath. 

“Thank you.”

“You know I’d do anything for you two. Absolutely anything, you have nothing to thank me for, or say sorry for.” He only nodded, tipping his head up enough that the tip of his nose dragged over your skin, until his chin was propped there instead, glancing up at you.

“Not true, I’m thankful for you every single day.”

You willed your body not to react, not to give you away, other than the small smile you offered him, settling with your hand on the nape of his neck for a second. It was intimate, romantic, far too much for friendship, and the sudden flash of thought made your spine stiffen, and your hand retract down to sit safely on his shoulder instead. “Rhys?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Why does Nyx’s school have me listed as his mother?”

He blinked, once. “What?”

“When they called, they asked me if I was his mom, and I never got a chance to correct her before she was telling me everything. Then when I got there, she said it again.”

He was silent for a moment, before sitting up once again, disentangling himself from you and putting on an easy-going smile to match his shrug as he slumped back into the seat. “I have no idea. Maybe she just got confused, or forgot.”

“Okay…” You gave only a moment's pause, leaning yourself on the edge of the desk beside you, and crossing your arms. “Well, why does your receptionist think I’m your wife?”

“She’s new.” The words rolled off of his tongue so fast it was like he’d planned them, your brows shooting up a little. “I mean, you come in here carrying Nyx, and what else would she know?”

Despite his casual demeanour, a soft layer of pink tinged those tan cheeks, so faint you’d hardly notice it if you weren’t so good at reading him. His eyes studied you for a second, a deep look as he stared, gaze taking you in just as much as you seemed to take him in. There was a lull, a pause, like so many moments lately where the air seemed positively charged between you both, lingering on an adrenaline-filled precipice and just waiting for something to happen.

Rhys broke it, just a second before it would have become too much for you, too. Clearing his throat, he caught Nyx’s attention. “Why don’t we go and get some ice-cream, buddy? Put the toy away and we can go right now.”

“Before dinner?” The child’s eyes widened, throwing the army man into the box without a care for the way he slammed off of the wall, all love gone now at the mention of ice-cream. Clicking the lid back into place, you watched them interact in a daze, the joking and chatter becoming background noise. 

You’d never given yourself a chance to think before, too scared to get your heart broken and to lose them both, but a small flame of hope in the back of your heart had been steadily growing bigger and brighter, and it was starting to become hard to ignore. 

Only when a small hand slipped into yours did you snap out of it, Nyx swinging happily with one hand in yours and the other in his father’s, telling him all about the school work he’d done as Rhysand grabbed for his briefcase and coat. Once he’d acquired them, you were on the move, trailing through the building in much the same way, swinging Nyx between your bodies and letting him bounce excitedly at the prospect of frozen sugar before a healthy meal. 

As you wandered through the lobby, you took stock of yourselves, noting just how much the three of you really did resemble a family. The receptionist would be right to assume, simply from what it looked like. And, even if the teacher did know you hadn't been, from the number of mornings you’d dropped Nyx at school or picked him up at the end of the day, it could easily be misread as merely a development in a complicated relationship. 

Perhaps, it was nothing more than a misunderstanding, and Rhys was right. 

The butterflies in your stomach died down to a heavy weight. One of both relief, and disappointment you refused to acknowledge, the hot flush of anxiety cooling into a steady calm, and you were finally able to take a deep breath once again as you reached the car.

“We just need to grab his bag and forms from my car, and-”

“You’re not coming for ice-cream?” Rhys’ head snapped up from where he’d been looking down at his son, brows furrowing at you, and Nyx fell silent, turning to stare up with an identical look of confusion. 

“You don’t like ice-cream?” He echoed in his father’s tone, the two were far too alike for your good, and Nyx was nothing if not a clone of his father. One silver lining had always been that Nyx seemed to be 99% Rhys, only getting 1% from his mother. It was the smattering of freckles over his nose that only came out in the summer.

“Of course, I like ice-cream.” You tapped at the tip of Nyx’s nose and he beamed.

“So, you’re gonna’ come with us, then?” Your gaze moved from him, to Rhys, whose brows only furrowed further. 

“What’re you lookin’ at me for? You know you’ve always got a place with us. Frankly, if you decided to move in tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye.”

Your eyes rolled, and when you were looking back at him, he was grinning. “What about my car?”

“I’ll drive you back here to get it.”

“What about work?” You motioned to the building behind you, and he opened his car door, motioning for Nyx to hop up into the back. 

“I own the company, I can take off an afternoon to be with the people I care about.”

“What about-” He leaned in close enough that your noses almost brushed, a smirk forming on his lips at the hitch in your breath, cutting off your words.

“Shut up, get in the car, and let me take my family for ice-cream.”

You couldn’t breathe, never mind form a response, that word ricocheting through the inside of your skull like a bullet. Nudging you to the side, Rhys opened the passenger door, motioning you too, until you were sinking into the spacious car and letting him close the door behind you. 

By the time he’d strapped in his son and gotten into the car himself, you’d regained your calm and your ability to speak. “You’re bossy.”

“I’m the boss.”

“Not in this car, you’re not.” You muttered under your breath, his chuckle only dulled by the purr of the engine as the SUV roared to life. Setting the car into gear, he cast a cheeky look in your direction. 

“Oh, I know. You’ve been calling the shots here since the day I met you, and I’m just fine with that.”

He settled a hand on your knee, innocently enough, after turning on kid’s songs to match your car to keep Nyx happy. He never flinched, never even glanced at his hand on you, like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. The scariest part, was that it felt exactly that way to you, too.

Nothing about it seemed wrong, or off, and the longer you stared at his hand, the more you wanted to take it. To lace your fingers together, set your hands in your lap after kissing his knuckles. Despite your attempts to push it down, it was seeming more and more like your ignorance of your situationship with Rhysand was making itself known.

It didn’t make sense. You were perfect together, in every other way, so why had he never made a move in this way? The spike of confused pain through your chest stung like a needle through the heart.

The drive to the ice-cream parlour didn’t give you much time to think, everything today was too fast, not enough time to think or clear your head. Before you knew it, you were pulled to a stop, Rhys climbing from the car to release his son who was practically tearing out of his car-seat to get to his favourite dessert store. He could have done with the run, the walk, anything to burn off some of that energy, but Rhys scooped him up into his arms, pressing several kisses to his son’s head, who only moaned and pushed at his father’s head.

He didn’t want kisses, he wanted sprinkles.

Too bad Rhys was beating himself up again about it all. Freeing yourself from the car to alleviate his worries, you squeezed his arm as you stepped out, shooting him a look to tell him that Nyx was more than okay. “One bumped head does not make you the world’s worst dad. Kids have accidents all the time, but look how happy he is right now.”

He didn’t need to look, shuffling his son to his hip and reaching out for your hand instead as he nodded. Lifting it up, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before lacing your fingers together.

There was a bell tinkling over your head as Rhysand guided you into the cold store, looking for all the world, once again, like a real family, and you allowed yourself a few selfish seconds to eat it up. Finally, Nyx gained his freedom, darting over to the large glass display cabinet and plastering himself to the front of it as he took in all the flavours available today.

By the time the two of you had reached the front of the queue, he’d seemingly made up his mind, turning to stare at you both with a look on his face that could only mean trouble. 

“You pick what you want, bud?”

Rhys’ cautious tone meant he’d picked it up too, his hand squeezing a little tighter around your own when you chuckled, cutting you a glare as Nyx rolled on the balls of his feet and nodded. “I want the chocolate fudge, two scoops,” He held up two small fingers, for emphasis. “With chocolate sauce and the little fudge-chunk sprinkles.”

The woman behind the counter only laughed, staring down at him adoringly as he placed his hands on his hips, expectantly. Rhys’ eyes widened, his head shaking a little. “How about vanilla, with strawberry sauce, and rainbow sprinkles?”

“Ew, yucky, no.” Nyx’s face crumpled, and Rhysand’s jaw dropped, glancing from his son to you, and back. 

“It was your favourite last time.”

“But, this time my favourite is chocolate fudge with chocolate sauce and fudge chunks, Daddy!” Nyx stated it like it was obvious, and you tugged on your connected hands to bring an indignant Rhys’ attention to you. 

“Oh, let him have his chocolate-fudge extravaganza, he bumped his head.” Rhys’ only scowled, muttering under his breath about being ‘ganged up on’, before nodding to the woman behind the till but indicating for only one scoop. 

“You’re putting him to bed when he gets a sugar rush.” Was all Rhys could snipe back with, a smile forming on your lips against your control once again, letting him lead you over to the display stand as Nyx watched his ice-cream being constructed with rapt attention. Turning from the cabinet to you, he nudged his nose lightly against your temple, a feeling that had blood rushing to your cheeks and your head spinning at the intimacy. “The usual?”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke a little as you spoke the single syllable, and had you been capable of speaking properly at the time, you were sure you’d have been a little more embarrassed about it. 

“One raspberry victoria-sponge chunk ice-cream with, two scoops, and one triple-scoop rocky road.” He added to the order, the woman only nodding, piling them up on top of the counter as Nyx tried to reach for his, sparkles in his eyes as he stared at his sickly-sweet monstrosity in awe. 

Lifting it down for him, you stuck a wooden spoon into the cardboard cup holding it, a soft ‘thank you’ tumbling from his lips as he accepted it, cradling the pot patiently in his hands like it was a rare treasure. You remembered the same look being on Rhys’ face when he’d first held his son, the same tender and gentle astonishment, the shock in his eyes at something so special. You could only smile. 

“Darling,” Rhys tugged on your arm, your head snapping up from Nyx to look at him, only to find both his eyes and the servers on you. You hummed, brows raising, and watching Rhys balancing two ice-cream cones in his hand. “I said, can you get my wallet? It’s in my jacket pocket, your side.”

“Oh! Right, sure.” Twisting to him, he smoothed his thumb over your hand in silent appreciation as you rooted around the inside of his pocket, fingers brushing across worn black leather, and pulling it free. 

You were more than familiar with Rhys’ money and his cards, he often handed you a small fold of notes or one of his shiny cards whenever you took Nyx out or needed to buy something, refusing to ever let you pay, but you rarely held the whole wallet.

Flipping it open, your eyes scanned over the folds inside to search for the right card, but your gaze snagged on the fold of an image inside. Pinned lightly behind clear plastic, the image preserved perfectly, was a picture of you and Nyx. You remembered the moment clearly, you’d been out with the whole family, one of the rare moments that Azriel had been home at the same time Mor was back from travels and Cassian had a day off. Amren even freed the day up to sit in the park with you all, celebrating Nyx’s third birthday. Mor had been on her Polaroid camera hype, and you didn’t even know she’d snapped this picture. 

Nyx’s hands were on your face, pushing your sunglasses on upside down after he’d finished playing with them. He was stood between your legs, the sundress you’d worn that day still had small stains from the muddy bottoms of his shoes, but the smile on his face that was caught in the picture was worth it. You rubbed a hand over the plastic protecting it, treasuring that day with all of your heart, and uncovering Rhys’ writing at the bottom as you did.

‘My loves’.

“Darling, the purple card. C’mon, the ice-cream is getting warm.” He nudged you again, Nyx staring pleadingly from the ground below as he clutched his treat, still waiting, and you slipped the purple card out with your thumb. Tapping it against the car reader and being sure to add a tip to compensate for your daydreaming, you slid the card back, sliding the wallet back into his pocket as the three of you found a table.

Just because you could no longer see the picture, didn’t mean it, and, more importantly, the caption, wasn’t seared into your mind. My loves. If he truly felt that way, why hadn't Rhysand ever made a move? It didn’t make sense, you’d been here since before Nyx had even been born, almost a decade of best-friendship and flirty comments that never became anything more, while secretly harbouring a picture of you in his wallet and holding your hand, kissing your forehead and smiling in a way that read as far more than just friends.

You’d barely even settled into the booth before Nyx was digging into his ice-cream, and your hand finally being freed and you were given your cone. Twisting it around and towards yourself, your eyes narrowed a little on the chunk missing from the side, somewhere where an obviously large piece of cake had been pulled out, and your glare turned to Rhys.

“You ate some of my ice-cream?”

“We always share, stop acting so surprised about it.” He grinned, taking a large scoop from his own, and you scowled at him. 

“I hadn't even tried it yet, and you ate the best piece of cake!” He only smirked. 

“Do you want to try my ice-cream?” Nyx offered, and you turned to look at him across the table. His hand was gripping the spoon like he was stirring in a cauldron, the contents inside had been churned up into a gloopy mess, and he held a spoonful of it out to you, chocolate and fudge-covered cheeks stretched in a smile. 

“That’s okay, Nyxie, it’s all for you.” You passed your cone back to Rhys after unwrapping the napkin from around it. “Hold this, and don’t eat any more.”

He nodded dutifully, but eyed another piece of cake hidden within the ice-cream nonetheless, as he ate his own. There was a particularly large piece of dark chocolate with a marshmallow on the side of his own that he’d yet to notice, and you stored that away for revenge. Reaching across the table, you wiped at Nyx’s cheeks, unsure why you’d bothered since he was only going to end up in the same state again soon, but you did your best with the sticky mess anyway.

You gave up when he got ice-cream on your hand too, refusing to pause eating even when you tried to clean him up. Leaving the scrunched-up napkin on the table, his father only chuckled in your ear and handed you your cone back. Turning to him, you held out your other hand. Wiggling your fingers, his face pinched for a second, before he sighed, giving in. He pulled that same face every time, despite being right that you always shared, a victorious smile on your face. 

You made a point of turning the cone, flashing the delicious chunk of chocolate and marshmallow to him, watching his jaw drop to stop you, but not fast enough. Clamping your mouth down around it, you pulled the chunk free, chocolate melting across your tongue as you let out a moan of appreciation.

His eyes flared, leaning in and snatching his cone back, but leaving his face close enough to your own that when you licked over your lips, you almost licked him too. “You’re so cruel to me.”

“Payback is a… well, you know the saying.” You smirked, ensuring not to swear in front of the child across the table from you both, and he only growled a little. His eyes flickered over your face, every spot his gaze touched made your skin burst out with heat, lingering for a moment on your mouth. He smirked, raising a hand, and brushing his thumb along the edge of your mouth as he pulled back a fraction.

“You missed a spot.” He breathed, thumb slipping to settle on your chin instead, and his eyes found yours once again. The air between you both crackled like it never had before, electricity sparking between you both again, but so much more intense. “I, uhm, I’ve been meaning to talk to you lately...”

“Yeah? Well, we never see each other, I can see how it’d be hard to find the time.” You teased, his softly sighed laugh brushing over your face as his gaze held yours. Smoothing his thumb along your jaw until he was cupping your face, it was only when a drop of ice-cream dripped from your cone and onto your finger, the cold sending a jolt through you that made you gasp and snap back. 

Glancing down at it, you winced, licking away any more drops that looked like they may fall, and using Nyx’s napkin to wipe your fingers. When you turned back to Rhys he was facing the table again, eating his ice-cream and acting as though nothing had happened. The bubble was broken, whatever he was going to say he clearly wasn’t planning on anymore, and so you let it pass.

You ate your ice-creams together, conversation steadily flowing onto other topics, far safer ones, no doubt, and you did your best to clean up Nyx’s face once again. Smears of chocolate covered his cheeks, and you knew Rhys would have to scrub it off later before bed. 

The ride back to the office was where you grew to regret convincing Rhysand to allow Nyx’s choice, his sugar rush beginning to kick in at full force. He screamed his songs at the top of his lungs, loud enough to make you both wince as you drove, bouncing chaotically in his seat and threatening to break right out like a miniature beast. 

The hand, now sitting on your lower thigh rather than your knee, squeezed at a particularly loud shriek as he played with the window settings, up and down, up and down. “This is your fault.”

“I know!” You wailed, glancing back at Nyx, who was all but vibrating as he rocked side to side, giggling hysterically to himself. “I figured the sauce would be sugar-free, and fudge isn’t that much sugar, it’s like-”

“It’s half sugar!”

“What?” Your eyes widened a little, turning to look at Rhys with wide eyes, and he contained his laughter as he watched the road, trying to tune out the din from the backseat. “Regardless, I apologise for this.” There would be no calming him now.

Rhys rubbed his hand up and down your thigh softly. “I already told you, that's your problem. You think I’m going to let you go home and leave me with this?”

“I have some very important work to do-”

“Liar.” He called your bluff, and you scowled, turning your glare on his hand as it set warmth firing along all of your nerves. 

When he finally pulled back into the parking lot, it was considerably emptier than it had been when you’d left, and he spun to park across two full spaces into place beside your car. He left the car with a happy sigh, closing the noise that his son was making inside the vehicle, and rolling his neck from side to side. Finally, he opened his son’s side, lifting the boy from his chair and setting him on the concrete, where he immediately began to jump up and down, holding onto his dad’s hand.

The pair accompanied you to your car, retrieving the school bags and taking them back to their own while you gathered the correct forms from the glovebox, meeting him by the back of the SUV that made your car look tiny in comparison. You pressed them into his hands, and he tucked them into the front pocket of Nyx’s bag, setting his son off to put the bags away, who remarkably, did as told.

“I know you said no thanks, but, thank you for today. I mean it, you were so wonderful. You’re always so wonderful, I couldn't do any of this without you.”

“Any time, Rhys. You know that.” He shrugged, hands tucking into the pockets of his smart pants, leaning against the side of the car only a foot away from you.

“I know, but that doesn’t make me any less lucky to have found you, and to get to keep you in my life.” 

Small padding of feet came rushing back, bags no longer in sight but a picture clutched in his hands to be held up in the air as he came to a stop. It was decorated with pieces of glued-on dried pasta, glitter and sequins, and some splatters of paint. The most important part, though, was the drawing at the bottom. 

You’d grown used to his style of drawing now, easily able to pick out what each scribble was supposed to be, or rather, who each scribble was supposed to be, and the attempt at writing underneath. It didn’t matter, though, because he was quick to enthusiastically point it all out. 

“Look, look! It’s us! This is daddy, in purple. And this is you in blue, because it’s your favourite colour. And this is me! I’m wearing a crown.” His chest puffed up proudly, the broken piece of pasta on his head acting like a crown, and you traced the words written in matching colours under each figure. 

Daddy. Nyx. Mommy.

Casting a look up, Rhys was staring at the paper, a horribly crushing mix of longing and pain in his eyes as he stared at it, throat bobbing in a swallow, before he was blinking it away. He’d always been good at playing another role, hiding his feelings when he needed to, but you’d caught him too many times. 

All the pining and want, you’d always assumed it had been for Feyre, for the missing woman who had birthed his son, but when his eyes met yours, the façade cracking just a touch, you allowed yourself to wonder if maybe it was for you. Whatever it was today, this last few months, it was something new. It was like those walls you’d built up were finally crumbling, he was fighting through his own, and he let out a shaky sigh. 

He let Nyx lower the photo, occupied with admiring his artwork. He leaned down, lips finding your cheek and lingering there in a soft kiss. You hooked a finger under his chin, twisting his head up until your noses were brushing, his eyes snapping open wide before you, as your lips brushed lightly. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I was thinking about kissing you.” You whispered, your voice shaking as you second-guessed yourself, second-guessed it all. His hand found your hip, smoothing around to sit on your lower back and tugging you close enough that your chests pressed together, his forehead resting on yours. 

He didn’t pull away, he didn’t stop you, he just gave you your chance to decide. 

So, you did. 

You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a delicate kiss that set your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies, and drew a soft noise from Rhys as he tightened his hold on you. After only a second of hesitation, he kissed you back, a push and pull with his lips that was as intoxicating as it was grounding. You felt like you were floating, tethered only to him as you gave into a desire you never thought you could have, his lips melding to yours in slow drags. 

It felt like it went on forever, and you were certain that you could easily have stayed there, just like that, for the rest of your life. 

When he let you breathe, when your mouths fell only an inch apart, you wanted to nudge closer to him once again, to seal yourself back to him, to sink into him wholly and entirely and never come apart again. If the tight grip he had on your hip was any indication, Rhysand felt the same way.

The fog cleared after a few moments, and he shifted back some more, eyes fluttering open once again, and this time, they were filled with questions. Swirling in the violet like a storm brewing at dusk, and you lifted a hand, running a finger over his cheek lightly, and smiling when his head tipped into your touch. 

“I’m so telling Uncle Azzy that you kissed Daddy.”

You practically jumped out of your skin, having forgotten about the babbling little boy at your feet, who was now staring up at you both in nothing but shock and smugness, one hand planted on his hip as the picture that had sealed the deal hung limply from the other.

“Daddy and-” You scooped him up before he could even get started into that little riddle, the taunting making your cheeks warm, even if he was only four, and making your way back toward the car. Rhys shuffled along behind you in a silent daze, holding the door open for you and standing by as you tucked Nyx back into his car seat. He never gave up on his childlike-smirk. 

“How about some dinner, huh? A little someone can have his favourite mac n’ cheese.”

“It's me! It’s me!” He cheered happily, and you took the opportunity while his arms were raised to strap the belt around his waist, sealing him back into the chair as his arms strapped through the other two. “I’m calling Uncle Azzy tonight. And Uncle Cassie.”

“You do that, Nyxie.” You bopped the end of his nose, switching on the small TV set that was attached to the headrest to face his way, and watching it load up. You could feel Rhys’ stare burning into you, like a fire crawling along your skin, impatient and needy and desperate for answers, making you grateful for this small distraction as you scrolled the shows on the tablet.

Like a warning, a warning not to make him wait much longer, Rhys settled one large hand over your hip, squeezing tightly and tugging you a fraction out of the car towards him, a shiver travelling down your spine. You hit play on the first show up. 

Backing out of the car to close the door, you didn’t get far, Rhys didn’t move, only pulling your body back into his with the grip on your waist, slamming the door shut for you and leaving you pressed to him. In a quick spin, he had your back pressed to the cold metal of the car, out of sight of his son and closed in by your own, the cold metal making for a relieving contrast to the heat. 

“Do it again.” There was a pleading note to his voice, his sights fixed entirely on your mouth now as he bit down on his lower lip, his forehead coming to rest on yours. “Kiss me again.”

You took your time, teasing him just a little, by running your hands up his arms, over his shoulders as he tensed, until you were holding his face. He sagged closer to you, like he couldn't even hold himself up anymore, pinning you between his body and the car. With a sweep of your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes closed, noses brushing in sweet motions until he gave an aggravated breath at the waiting.

At long last, you gave in, closing the gap between you both once again. This time, he let out a soft moan when your mouths connected. He kissed like a man starved, like a man who had waited every moment of his life for this. It was like your first taste of air after being underwater, his mouth insistent and unrelenting, like he was memorising the way it felt to kiss you.

You gave him all you had, committing every part of him to memory too. Every sound he made, the way he panted against your lips before diving back in, teeth scraping your lower lip and sucking softly, before following it with a sharp nip. He ruined everyone else, no kiss you’d ever had compared to this and nothing else ever would. 

When his tongue smoothed over your lower lip, you were forced to pull back, to try and think somewhat clearly, one of you had to, because if you let this go on anymore, you weren’t sure you could stop. His hand was already shifting, exploring, dragging his fingertips up your spine to tangle in your hair, and you lowered yours to his shoulders, pushing him back just enough to take a breath that didn’t taste like him. 

He groaned, licking over his swollen lips to take away the taste of you, his eyes darker than before when they found you again, and you pressed your lips together to fight temptation. “You should… you should get our boy home.”

At that, he blinked, his gaze softening endlessly at the endearing claim, and his hand let your hair go to slip back to your back. Pulling you closer, he pressed a wet kiss to your cheek, nodding against your temple as he left a kiss there too. When he pulled back, it was to simply stare. There was nothing hidden now, the kind of dumb-in-love look shining in his eyes that you couldn't miss. Had it always been there, and you’d just never seen it before, or had he just stopped hiding it?

“You okay, Rhysie?”

He melted into you at the nickname you rarely brought out, eyes shining as he continued to stare. “So, so very okay, darling.”

Silence lingered between you both, the same comfortable quiet it had been since day one. No matter what, no matter how anxious or nervous or rattling, Rhys always had a way of making you feel at ease. You felt so vulnerable, and yet so safe with him, voice coming out in a whisper to speak into the gap between you both, “Can I ask you a question, Rhys?”

“Are you going to ask me if we can have carbonara with chicken for dinner again?” He teased, putting your nerves even more at ease, or maybe it was for his own, by making a joke. 

You indulged him, “It’s a classic for a reason, because it’s so good. Besides, who said I’m coming for dinner, anyway?”

“You think there’s any way I’m going to be able to let go of you now?” He mumbled, head dropping down to rest on your shoulder instead, and you chuckled, feeling his lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder through your jumper. “What did you really want to ask?”

That brought the nerves back in full force. “Why did nothing ever, y’know, happen between us?”

His head snapped up, eyes widening to look at you, but no words came from his parted lips. 

“Don’t you ever think about it, Rhys? I mean, look at us. There’s so much that would work, and I guess-”

“Of course I think about it.” He breathed the words in a rush, and your jaw snapped shut as words finally began to pour out of him, unrestrained and uncontrolled. “I think about it all the time. Every minute of every day you’re on my mind.”

“Rhys…” He let out a slow breath, but there was no stopping him now. You’d uncorked the bottle, the contents unable to be stopped from spilling. 

“Since the day I met you all those years ago, I knew that I would hold onto you for the rest of my life. I couldn't let you go. But, I was a stupid kid who just inherited a company, and I was terrified of that. I wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. You just dropped into my life and filled holes and cracks I didn’t know I had, you made me feel complete. I fell for you, so hard and so fast, and I was so godsdamned scared of that.” He looked away, unable to look at you any longer, and swallowing thickly. 

“So, we became friends…”

“So, we became friends.” He repeated, sighing like he couldn't hold the weight of the world anymore. “I thought, selfishly, that I could hold onto you as my best friend, until I was ready for more. That it would be fine. I was too slow, though, and you started dating Lucien.”

Your mind flickered back, hardly remembering the man you’d been with for only a couple of months almost six years ago, flashes of red hair and tanned skin in your mind recalling it.

“He was good to you, and I hated that. I hated him, but I wanted you to be happy. But, I was so miserable. I was so sickeningly, maddeningly, obviously in love with you, and I had to do something before you noticed. So, I dated Feyre. It wasn’t… we moved too quickly, too fast. I threw myself into it and then she got pregnant. Nyx came along, and she abandoned him. I thought I’d lose you too. I was scared again, but you stayed. You helped with everything, you made it better.” 

His voice started to crack, and so your arms raised, looping around his neck, pulling him in until his forehead was pressed to your own. 

“I wasn’t scared when you were there. You taught me everything, you stayed for every step. I knew within days that you should have been Nyx’s mother, that being with you like this was all I’d ever want, I started to want everything cliché, a white picket fence and a little house of our own and a street where Nyx could learn to ride a bike with us. I mean, I picked out the house you liked best from the viewings even though it was gonna cost so fuckin’ much to renovate and repair and clean, but it was so worth it.” He laughed emptily, and you sniffed back tears.

“I had no idea.”

“I know, I never told you. I wanted you to see your dream house without the guilt.” He rubbed at his nose, and you kissed his cheeks, feeling him smile under your lips as you did, stopping the tears clinging to his lashes from falling. “But, you were still with Lucien, so I settled to take what I could get. If having you as my friend, helping me raise him like this, was all I could ever have, I’d take it. Then, you weren’t, and I thought maybe you’d be heartbroken about your break-up, or sad, and I wanted to give you time. I gave you too much time, I was a coward, I was nothing but a lonely man who already had a son. I couldn't offer you all the things you wanted anymore. I couldn't travel or go out and party or do anything. I’m always working or with my boy, and I didn’t want you to be forced to take that on.”

You were shocked, his candour had left you breathless, and he sniffled lightly, blinking away the tears he was unwilling to let drop. “We broke up because of you.”

“What?” He let himself look up, to you, of all the expectations he’d seemingly braced himself for, this obviously wasn’t it.

“Lucien and I. He- he said, understandably, that it felt strange to have a relationship with a woman who was practically a part of another family. It made him feel like some sort of home-wrecker. He didn’t say it, and he never would’ve, he was a good man, but it was a choice. You and Nyx, or him.” Giving the best smile you could despite the emotions overwhelming you, he matched it with a watery laugh. “I didn’t even have to think about it. That’s why I was never sad.”

“You chose us.”

“I’ll always choose you.” Your smiles were real this time, shared and intimate and frighteningly tender. “So, the real question, is whether you’re still sickeningly, maddeningly in love with me?”

“You forgot ‘obviously’. I can’t believe you don’t know it, I haven’t been subtle. I tell everyone you’re my wife, and let them believe you’re Nyx’s mom.” Your scoff only made him smirk, smacking at his shoulder lightly, pushing him away only to have him grip you tighter, tugging you closer to him. 

“I knew those weren’t ‘little mistakes’, or miscommunications!” He only shrugged, dipping back in, every intention clear as he moved slowly. 

“I intended to tell you today, and so many other times, but I was always so scared of losing you.” The confession hung between you both, the unspoken promises and words as he tried to give you a chance to leave, to back away, to call it too much, but you didn’t. 

You let him kiss you, let him kiss you until your lungs burned for oxygen and your head was spinning, and it felt like hours had passed by as you learned one another’s mouths. You let him kiss you until you were sure he understood that you felt the same, that you always had.

“I still love you. I will always love you. You don’t just get over this kind of love.”

You could only grin at him, cheeks aching but you didn’t care, because you couldn't have contained your happiness even if you’d wanted to. “Good, because it would have been horrible if my feelings were unrequited.”

“Never.” A few more stolen kisses, mumbled promises between them. “So, you’ll follow us home for dinner?”

The leap in your chest at the word home was enough to make you breathless, the knowledge you now had that he’d chosen it just for you, in hopes you’d one day live with them. It was almost too much to bear. “Only if you’re making carbonara. And garlic bread.”

“I’ll make you anything you want if it means you’ll keep kissing me.” You hummed, pressing another peck to his lips before managing to disentangle yourself, despite his complaints and tight hold.

“I’ll see you soon, where we can continue this.”

“Don’t take too long, I’ll miss you too much.” He winked, looking messy and kiss-ruined as you stepped back to fully take him in. His shirt was rumpled, his blazer was a little askew, and his cheeks were flushed red, swollen lips to match. 

He was perfect. 

“Hurry home to us, darling.”

My two favorite love boys are the ones who have the last number of fics and I'm the saddest person in the world because of that 😔😔😔😔😔😔😔

Isa's Masterlist

Hello! I'm Isa, and I'm here only because I can't keep my ideas to myself lol. Technically this is an experiment to see if I actually know how to speak English, and as you can guess, English is not my first language, so any mistakes are excused here haha.

Please be gentle with me, I'm just a girl in college trying to do something fun 😭😭

Did I mentioned I love music? Yeah, you'll see it everywhere. Look, there is one right here.

I can try writing for other characters of ACOTAR and maybe for Ruhn Danaan, so I'm open for requests, but I won't promise too much

Azriel

Moonlight Masterlist 🔗✨️

A Little Too Not Over You ✨️

Never Knew I Needed ✨️

Until It Happens To You 🔗✨️

Golden ✨️

Make You Mine ✨️

Delicate ✨️

I Think He Knows ✨️

Pillowtalk ✨️

Rhysand

This Is Love

What Was I Made For? 🔗

Mastermind ✨️

Wait For It ✨️

Waiting On A Miracle 🔗

The Loneliest ✨️

Cassian

Scars 🔗✨️

Burn For You ✨️

Kiss The Girl ✨️

Lucien

Dear Theodosia (and Philip) ✨️

What Makes You Beautiful ✨️

Eris

The Night We Met 🔗✨️

Helion

Baby Mine 🔗✨️

Serendipity ✨️

Information:

🔗 - Angst

✨️ - Fluff

💦 - Smut

ACOTAR Bingo

✨️Rules:✨️

1. I kinda of have a cenario imagined for every prompt, so if you want something more specific, please ask

2. I can't guarantee it will be posted soon but i guarantee i will do all

3. PLEASE tell if you want one of the three options: fluff, angst or smut (I'm not a big fan but test your luck)

4. Writing for everyone here

5. No jugdments, no questions, ask WHATEVER comes to mind, i really don't care

6. If you want smut pleaaaase specify SOMETHING i am a dumbass when it comes to this

7. I will probably do more than one story for each prompt if the requests are fun

8. Yes, all of them will come with a song, it's just my way of doing things and organizing my thoughts

9. I'm honestly hoping all of them have a Rhysand request lol (he's my favorite batboy for a reason)

In case someone here is wondering when i will publish another chapter for Moonlight I SWEAR it'll be this month as soon as i finish my two weeks of exams ("get into college, it's fun" they said) this bingo is more for fun cause it's fast and fun to write them, nobody told me it was so hard to write a multi-chapter fanfiction

10. I really want to fill all of them, help me

Quick question peoples, when we say pregnancy we mean baby in the belly or newborn baby? (Cause I think about the second one most of the time and I'm quite inclined to write the second too)

So @lillithathecat who request this, the thing is, everything is getting out of hand omg kkkkkkkkk (Brazilian laugh, I don't know how to laugh in english)

I just have my box filled and now I'm getting nervous (not out of ideas tho, keep sendind) I think I'm gonna pick out one of each prompt and publish it because I'm getting a lot of repeated ones, after that I'll write all the others, is that good?

Good, see you next babies

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE RHYS??? Literally my favorite, could write for him forever, he is my first and last thought of the day SEND MORE REQUESTS FOR HIM PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭 I want to have a reason to write more

Mastermind

You. Were. Freaking. Out.

Damn it, none of it was in your plans, definitely. I mean, you planned your whole life, how could this not be in your plans? It was, actually, but NOT NOW. You had so many things to figure out in your life yet, you could not possibly be damn fucking pregnant.

Of course, you were, you actually noticed every single change in you since the first week, and have been going to Madja over and over again for the past two months, you know and have made sure you are expecting a baby. But the same amount of happiness you had in your heart you had nervousness.

It was not a bad thing, not at all, you couldn't be more happy to be expecting your first child, but oh gods, so soon? Not soon tho, you were past five hundred years, three hundred of them with your goddamned mate, also husband, also the father of the project of a baby you were carrying, also your High Lord. That last sentence being the reason for all of your worries.

Not just you were the High Lady as well, but the child in your womb was already fated to the weight of the crown in its non-yet-existent head, and it was heavy on you too. The idea of carrying and protecting and raising the future of the Night Court was terrifying.

You studied hard to be the best you could offer for your court, the one you were born and raised and so proud to live in. You planned everything, from top to toe you handed it all ready and verified and corrected and detailed for every single idea for a change or plan to solve problems. That's why you were so admired in every single piece of land in your court.

And yet, you couldn't figure out how to organize your thoughts and feelings to fit a baby into your life. You always knew the day was coming, that's precisely why you stopped taking your medicine. But you honestly thought it would take months or maybe even years to get pregnant, knowing very well how hard it is for a fae to make a baby. But with the number of times you and Rhysand got filthy with each other being impressive, it actually wasn't a surprise you got your one so fast.

But you couldn't stop the worries anyway.

You talked it through with Rhysand, you knew he wanted nothing more than a child, but what if you tell him and he doesn't want it now? What would you do?

The pile of papers and the amount of books in your study room kept staring at you, wondering where you were finally going to start working.

Damn, would you have to stop working for a while and focus only on the baby? Could you still train with Cass, go out with Mor, go jewelry hunting with Amren, and fly with Az? And after the birth, could you come back to your so well-detailed life or everything would have to involve the baby too?

The questions filled your head and flooded your senses to the point that you didn't even notice the door opening and your mate coming in to check on you and have your daily conversation over sweets and coffee of the afternoon. His smile quickly dropped as he took in your state of distress, leaving the tray of food on top of the table to get close to you. He gives you a small touch on your shoulder to make you notice him before he lifts your face to hold it in his hands as he looks at you.

-What happened? Something wrong? - His voice soothes you so much, even more after the pregnancy, feeling every cell in your body light up in happiness for having him there.

-Nothing wrong. I'm just thinking too much - He pulls you up, making you stand in front of him. His hands were still caressing your face as he started pecking your skin.

-You do that when you get a court-related problem and don't know how to solve it, then you get stressed for not getting an answer and get mad at yourself for not being "smart enough" to make everyone happy - He pecks your mouth lightly, his analysis making you chuckle since he was on point in every word - So, what do we have in hands? Who is upset in this court? I didn't receive anything.

-I mean, I got the news a few weeks ago and I've been trying to make sense of it for a while - He waited as you grabbed his hands and kissed them, touching him somehow always made you feel more secure about yourself - But no one is upset. I think everyone will be more than happy with the news. I just don't know how to react. How to tell you.

-Tell me? - Rhysand frowns slightly, pulling you to the nearest couch and making you sit on top of him, cuddling you as a way to make you feel safe to talk - You know that I would never say a bad thing to you, ever.

-I know. That's not what I'm worried about - You grab his hand and put it on top of your stomach, not any different from the other days, as the baby was still the size of a small grain. Yet, the act seemed enough for him to understand - I actually know you will be more than excited.

His face lights up in a fraction of a second, his eyes shining with a thousand stars, the stars you always praise when he looks at you. His arms circle you as his laugh fills in the room, kisses being left all over the skin he could reach. The happiness flew over the bond as you were also laughing, enjoying your mate's reaction. His thoughts and feelings were shooting themselves at you, his heart racing and filling with happiness while small tears ran down his face.

-Thank you so much, my love. Thank you - He murmured while rocking in you, face still hidden in your neck - Why were you worried? This is the best news you could ever give me - His face clearly demonstrated that, the happiest he ever seemed since the day you were officialized as High Lady in front of the Court members. He kisses you one more time, this time long and deep and sweet and loving. He loved you. Loved the kid you both would get to raise together.

-The timing… I don't know - You dried the tears on his face, pecking his cheeks as he simply took in your scent, finally finding the light scent of the baby growing inside you - I thought I would get more time to prepare myself? Like, make plans and stuff. I know we have eight months in front of us to deal with everything but still… I didn't exactly plan it through.

-You can't plan it. You never know if the seed takes root. It's hard for faes to conceive babies, you know this - He tries to state calmly, the euphoria affecting his senses making it hard for him to focus completely - You don't need to plan anything. There are moments in life that you simply have to live through.

-Well… Yeah, I think so - He pecks your face more times and you laugh, trying to brush off the uneasiness you felt by not being in control - I never experienced a situation like this, but I think we can manage.

-What do you mean, "never experienced"? Being High Lady of the Night Court was all in your plans? - He laughed and stopped right away, taking in your expression, almost as if he caught you committing a crime - You planned to be High Lady?!

-No! Not being High Lady itself… just… work with you, have a really high rank in politics, maybe be your advisor - He was shocked, his smile growing as he took in the information - I mean, that's what I spent my whole life studying for, you know? To work!

-But when I met you I thought-

-Thought I was just an artist trying to make money on Rita's while singing a lovely song about breaking rules, changing the world for the greater good, bringing peace with my group of freaky friends to the city, and living happily ever after in the world we created? Then Rita went to your table and told the Inner Circle they would get a free round of wine that day if one of you went up on the stage and sang a duet with me. Mor's heel was broken, Cassian couldn't even try because he spent the whole week screaming in the camps and Azriel still was too shy. So you went up on the stage because "what better than a fun challenge with a pretty girl that makes music about all of your dreams", right? We sang, and you gained a free round of wine and invited me to drink too, I accepted, said something about the changes they were doing in the Rainbow, I gave slight ideas as if I was just a normal citizen of Velaris that was trying to make my city a better place. Even if you were drunk you kept those ideas in your mind and passed them to your father. The next week, oh my, look who we found in your favorite coffee shop! Remember the one you went to every Wednesday after a reunion with your father? That one. You found me, we talked, and you asked me if I had more ideas. I said I did. You were flirting but were also curious. After three or four weeks I was basically your advisor. I didn't plan to fall in love with you, but it was a welcomed feeling since you were as sweet as people talked about. We kissed, the mating bond snapped, and we married. Bingo! I'm High Lady and everything went as I planned, like pieces of dominoes falling in order - Rhysand frowns slightly and realizes how everything you said matched perfectly with those first weeks you both met each other. His face turns to you with a shocked smile, his mind still processing all of the information - So yeah, never planned to be your mate, but definitely planned our encounter and everything after.

-How? - It was the only word he could process, his hand still caressing your sides.

-During my childhood kids never wanted to play with me for some stupid reason I don't even remember, but from then on I swore I would make everyone love me so I would never feel alone again, and would make it seem effortless. I talked with everyone in Velaris when I first moved in. I wanted to have a job with the current High Lord, but everyone seemed scared of him, yet they loved you. So I guess it would be easier if I made friends with you, right? Anyway, you already had your Inner Circle, and it was basically impossible to get in, so I reunited every information I could from you. Your preferences, your family, your friends, your habits, I even talked with some of the girls you fucked just to make sure, nowadays I understand why I always felt so jealous. Then I took music lessons after meeting Keir once and discovering that you loved the performances they had in the Court of Nightmares. Then, I studied Illyrian culture and made some friends, also some funny enemies during my oh-so-convenient trips to Illyria, they were the ones who made Cassian lose his voice, by the way. I never had to pretend though, I was actually really interested in all of this, even more in you after we started to talk. After securing my friendship with Rita I just had to put everything into action - You smiled a little bit, as if you just didn't break his whole world twice in a short span of time - So… how do we feel about this?

-About what? Your amazing planning and spying skills or the pregnancy?

-You are not mad at me? Or scared? - You let out the breath you didn't even notice you were holding. Hearing his laugh only assured you he was okay with this little piece of craziness you held inside of you.

-Darling, you are a mastermind. I know this since the first time I saw you manipulating Keir for days to make him accept one of our new rules - He brushes one strand of hair in front of you and looks you directly in the eyes - I never feared you because I always knew you would never do anything bad. You're just evil in the right situation, I think that's why I knew you would be the most perfect High Lady - He kissed your neck, slowly making his way up to your lips. His skin was hot as fire now, the air heating up too as he kissed you deep to show the devotion you fought so hard to get - It actually turns me on to know you manipulated me. How weird.

-Does my High Lord like it when I outsmart him, hm? - His breath hitch a little before he grips your hip and brings you closer than possible, your hands blindly trace his tattoos on top of the clothing, their shapes well known by your mind from the uncountable amount of time you spent decorating them in his bare skin.

-Surprisingly I do - His hand sneaks under your shirt, placing it directly on top of the place it would swell in a short time - Maybe we can call it a day and commemorate your mind and our future alone, in bed, maybe you can tell me about all the other plans you had while I lick every piece of skin you have.

-I already have a baby growing in me, you know? You don't need to try anymore - Your laugh is quickly replaced by a moan as his other hand travels to the inside of your trousers.

-Maybe we can rush and put another one - His mouth captures yours and he winnows you both to your shared room, your back against the soft mattress as his hand keeps its job.

-I'm pretty sure that's not how it works - His chuckle fills in the room, in a snap of his fingers all of your clothes disappear.

-And I'm pretty sure I just want to eat you out - He quickly dropped to his knees in front of you, his mouth making the travel it made thousands of times before.

Maybe you could finally let destiny make its way without a thought about it.

Solo Dad Rhys!!!! Fluff piece!!!

AHAHAJAJAJSKSKAKAIAIA I LOVE RHYSAND SO MUCH

I'm sorry for giving a villain arc to Feyre but HEY history needs to happen okay?

Nyxie baby cutie boo making his first appearance in my blog, welcome babyyyy

My mind just went FUOOOOOON once I imagined the story, I SWEAR I was riding my bike when I thought of this and had to stop middle way to my house just to think it better

Yes I changed the lyrics of Wait For It to fit the history, and yes I invented a whole bunch of shit about velaris WHO CARES

KEEP SENDING REQUESTS I LOVE DOING THIS

Wait For It

In the breathtaking realm of the Night Court, the stars gleamed like diamonds in the obsidian sky, casting their ethereal glow upon the majestic city of Velaris below. Amidst the grandeur of the court, Nyx, a cherubic young boy of ten, with unruly dark curls and captivating violet eyes, eagerly awaited his Wednesday night escapade.

Nyx's parents were once deeply in love, but Feyre, burdened by a restless heart, had returned to her once fiancee, Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, after giving birth. In the aftermath of her choices, she had bitterly slandered Rhysand and his family, a web of lies that entangled them in trouble. Despite the turmoil, Rhysand only devoted himself to raising Nyx, juggling the responsibilities of both a powerful High Lord and a dedicated father.

But Nyx had a little secret, a sanctuary that filled his heart with joy amidst the chaos. Every Wednesday night, he would give his father an innocent lie, claiming to attend "extra classes" while secretly venturing to the grand theater of Velaris in the bursting heart of music and arts of the Rainbow.

The first time it happened was pure coincidence. The grand theater of Velaris hummed with the anticipation of the evening's performance. Nyx had just learned how to winnow and having his father's mischievous spirit, he went after the wave of emotion that spread everywhere he went, sneaking into an empty booth Nyx sat in awe, waiting to witness the lady everyone affectionately called "Starlight" take the stage once more. He wore a dashing little suit, feeling every inch a proper gentleman as he eagerly anticipated the show.

As the curtains rose, Nyx's eyes widened in wonderment as "Miss Starlight" appeared, bathed in the spotlight's embrace. Her voice, like a thousand twinkling stars, filled the theater, capturing hearts with its enchanting melody. She actually portrayed a character named Starlight, who reunited the story of Velaris and told it in a song, bringing the city to life and giving it a soul she shared with on stage.

When the final notes of the performance echoed through the theater, the audience erupted in thunderous applause. Nyx, who had been clapping with glee, could hardly contain his excitement as he jumped up from his seat. He knew that he had to speak to her, to let her know how much he adored her singing. With determination in his heart, Nyx slipped away from the public side, weaving through the crowd until he reached the backstage area. His little heart pounded with nervous excitement, but he couldn't let fear hold him back, he knew this was his chance to talk to the performer.

Peeking around the corner, he spotted her, still dressed in her celestial attire, chatting with some of the crew. Nyx took a deep breath, mustering all the bravery a seven-year-old could have, and stepped forward, clutching a small bouquet of flowers he had summoned from his auntie Elain's garden.

- Um, excuse me, miss Starlight? - He called out softly, a touch of shyness evident in his voice. The lady turned, and a radiant smile graced her features as she noticed the adorable little boy approaching her.

- Why, hello there - She said warmly, going down on her knees to meet his eyes. Her sparkling dress made a pool of diamonds shine around her, making her look even more like an angel - And who are you, young man?

- I'm a big fan - He whispered in shyness, hands sweating as he offered her the bouquet and she took it.

- Is my big fan's name Nyx, I suppose? - She asked as if it was a secret, Nyx's eyes widened in surprise.

- You know my name? - She chuckled gently and offered him a hand, one he gladly took in.

- Of course, I remember you. You've been coming here with your father to see the renewal, haven't you? - Nyx's cheeks flushed with delight, feeling like he was known and seen by someone special.

- Yes! I love music, and I loved, even more, your singing, Miss Starlight. It's like true magic! - She laughed, even then she sounded like she was made of music.

- Well, thank you, Nyx. That's such a lovely compliment - She replied, touched by his sincerity. Nyx pointed to her bouquet, a bit shy when she held it close to her heart.

- These are for you. They're from the Night Court's garden - He proudly said and she smiled even more.

- Thank you, sweetheart - She said, looking at the flowers with gratitude - They're beautiful, just like you - His heart swelled with joy at the praise, and a wide grin spread across his face.

- Can I, um, watch all your performances, Miss Starlight? - Her eyes sparkled with warmth and affection.

- Oh, absolutely! I would be delighted to have my biggest fan in the audience at every show - Nyx beamed, feeling like the luckiest boy in all of Prythian.

- Yay! Thank you! - He ran to hug her, taking care to not step in her dress or ruin her hair which had sparkles that shined like the stars he loved to see. As their conversation continued, Nyx's initial shyness faded away, replaced by a blossoming friendship. The lady shared stories of her love for music and the theater, and Nyx listened with rapt attention, hanging on to her every word.

From that day forward, Nyx became a regular presence at her performances. He would sit in the front row or in the same booth when he didn't feel like gaining attention from the citizens, his eyes alight with wonder, as "Miss Starlight" sang and danced with grace and passion. And each time the curtains fell, she would come to greet him, and they would share heartwarming conversations that left Nyx feeling like he had found a kindred spirit.

Their bond grew stronger with each passing performance, and Nyx's admiration for "Miss Starlight" only deepened as the years passed. Their friendship was a radiant star in the young boy's life, casting a luminous glow on his days in the Night Court. And every time he watched her on that mesmerizing stage, he couldn't help but feel that he was in the presence of true magic. There, he would be enchanted over and over again by a sweet and lovely lady, her voice as mellifluous as the Night Court's nocturnal symphony.

It took years for Nyx to finally come up with a good and durable excuse for his lack of presence every Wednesday night, sometimes even missing dinner with his family when his favorite singer invited him to dine with the rest of the cast that presented the show. Unknown to Nyx, in one of his hidden escapes, his father was making his way across the city. Under the veil of night, the streets of Velaris were bathed in a silvery glow. High Lord Rhysand, cloaked in shadows, followed the path toward one of his favorite restaurants.

While he passed through some of the streets he met Nyx's teacher walking next to the River. Curious as to why she was there he trailed her discreetly, observing her every move with a mixture of concern and curiosity. As the lady entered a quaint restaurant, Rhysand waited a moment before stepping inside. He chose a discreet corner, keeping his features hidden from curious gazes. The restaurant hummed with soft conversation and the clinking of glasses, creating a cozy ambiance.

After what felt like an eternity, the lady emerged from the restroom, looking elegant and serene. Rhysand steadied himself, deciding it was time to confront her.

- Excuse me, miss - As she walked past his table, he spoke in a low, steady voice. She turned, her eyes meeting Rhysand's, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of recognition. However, she quickly masked it with a polite smile.

- Yes, can I help you, my Lord? - Her face was calm, too calm for someone that was supposed to be with somebody else's son and not at a restaurant having a date.

- I believe you've been teaching my son, Nyx, for the past few years - Rhysand began, maintaining an air of formality.

- Oh, Nyx - She replied, her eyes brightening with fondness - Such a charming and talented young boy. He's been attending my classes for a while now, yes.

- I must apologize for any misunderstanding, but I can't seem to understand why you are here if he was supposed to be in class right now - The lady's expression faltered, and she seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

- I... I don't have formal classes with him on Wednesdays, per se. Nyx has been coming every Saturday afternoon for his lessons - Rhysand became desperate for a second, and his heart clenched with worry for his son's safety.

- So he's been lying to me - He said, his voice tinged with disappointment. The lady's eyes softened with understanding.

- I'm sorry if I inadvertently became part of his secret. I never knew he was hiding the truth from you - His ears pricked at her words, curious as to why she didn't seem any sort of nervous

- What do you mean by "hiding the truth from me"? Do you know where he is? - She seemed confused for a second, before a smile plastered on her face.

- Everyone in the streets of the Rainbow knows where the little prince goes on Wednesdays, we all assumed you and your family knew too. It's not uncommon to find him walking down the city with the actors that play in the theater - His eyes softened at hearing his son was safe and his citizens were somehow taking care of him - I'm sorry for not noticing your lack of knowledge on his where being.

- You have nothing to apologize for - Rhysand replied, his tone gentler now - I appreciate your honesty. I was just worried for his safety once I saw you here.

- He's safe with the crew, they are lovely people to be around, I actually befriended some of them, there's nothing to fear - the lady assured him, her sincerity evident - He's such a joy around them, and he's genuinely passionate about music and theater. You need to listen to him talk about his "Miss Starlight" and detail every new performance of hers - Rhysand couldn't help but feel a hint of gratitude toward the lady for cherishing his son's company. A smile graced the lady's lips, and a sparkle danced in her eyes - He's a remarkable young boy, and it's been so sweet to hear him talk about this lady, you should probably meet her and thank this female for making him so happy. He's always so enthusiastic.

- I'm planning to talk to him about this - Rhysand said, his voice tinged with gratitude, though - But I would like to be informed of any action by him, apparently there are a lot of things I don't know about. Thank you once again - As she nodded with a small smile Rhysand quickly winnowed to the Town House, calling an urgent meeting with his family.

The Night Court's Inner Circle gathered in a quiet corner of the luxurious house, their faces reflecting concern and curiosity. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, his heart heavy with worry for his young son, Nyx. He had discovered Nyx's secret escapades to watch "Miss Starlight," the lady whose performances had captured his son's heart, and now he needed advice on how to handle the situation. Mor leaned forward, her brows furrowed with worry.

- So, he's been going to watch performances instead of attending classes, is that what you just said? - She asked, concern lacing her voice.

- Yes, and he's been lying about it for a while now, years probably. I didn't find out until this night when I found his teacher in a restaurant, and I'm not sure how to address it without making him feel ashamed - Rhysand nodded, his voice tinged with regret.

- He's a curious child, Rhysand. He probably felt the need to hide it because he thought you'd disapprove - Amren, always the pragmatic one, spoke up.

- I can understand why he'd be drawn to her performances. She's a true star on that stage - Cassian chimed in, his face thoughtful.

- And she's been wonderful with Nyx - Azriel added quietly - I've seen her interact with him after her shows, and the way he lights up in her presence is undeniable.

- Wait, wait, wait, both knew he was going to her performances and none of you thought about telling me? - His brother's expression fell at their mistake, slowly looking at each other before looking at their High Lord again.

- Maybe? I mean, we saw him on the front row once and when we made sure he was safe we left him there - Cassian explained first, exchanging looks with the shadowsinger.

- We were waiting for him to tell you - Azriel closed the conversation, looking at the ground in shame.

- Hold on, the actress we are talking about is the one who played Edwina in "Whimsical Serenade"? - As Cassian and Azriel eagerly agreed, their faces lighting up, Morrigan laughs hard, finally understanding the whole situation - Of course! It all makes sense now! Even I lied to you once to go watch her performance with Elain. I didn't notice Nyx there, though.

- Isn't she the one who plays Rhysand in "A High Lord's Duel"? - Amren jumps in the conversation, and Nestha's eyes widened at the mention - Holy shit, she is amazing. It actually scared me how well she incorporates Rhysand in the scenes with Tamlin.

- If so she is the one who plays Eliza in "A Heartfelt Symphony" - All of them agreed to her statement, starting a discussion about her talent and performances.

- Let me get this straight, all of you watched her at least once? - As the Inner Circle discussed Nyx's infatuation with "Miss Starlight", as well as their experiences with her, unbeknownst to them, the young boy himself stood at the doorway, eavesdropping on the conversation with a mix of fear and guilt. He knew he had let his father down, and he dreaded facing the consequences of his actions.

Before Nyx could retreat, Mor's keen senses detected his presence. She glanced towards the door and smiled warmly at him.

- Nyx, come on in. We were just discussing your little adventures - His little heart pounded in his chest, but he knew he couldn't hide anymore. Nyx took a deep breath and stepped into the room, his violet eyes meeting his father's concerned gaze.

- Nyx - Rhysand began gently - We know about your visits to watch the shows at the theater. Why didn't you tell me the truth?

- I didn't want you to be angry with me, Papa. I love her singing, and I didn't think you'd let me go if you knew - Nyx's shoulders slumped, his voice small.

- Nyx, I'm not angry with you. I just want to know the truth. You don't have to hide anything from me - Rhysand softened, understanding his son's fear.

- Plus, we all know about her. You're not the only one who's watched her perform, little one - Mor grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Nyx's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked around at the Inner Circle, finding nods of agreement from each of them. The knowledge that everyone knew and still supported him brought a smile to his face.

- You guys have seen her too? - Nyx asked in awe.

- Of course! We had to make sure you weren't getting into any trouble, boo - Cassian chuckled.

- Papa, please come with me to the next show. She's amazing, and I think you'll like her too - Nyx turned back to his father, his eyes earnest.

- Yes, Daddy, Miss Starlight is the best in the whole wide world - Nestha chuckled before earning a warning glare from the High Lord.

- All right, Nyx. I'll go with you, and we can enjoy her performance together - Rhysand's heart swelled with love for his son and his genuine enthusiasm.

Nyx beamed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He knew he could trust his father, and having him there by his side meant the world to him. And so, with the support of the Inner Circle and his loving father, Nyx felt a newfound sense of confidence. He had learned that honesty and trust were the building blocks of their family, and he was eager to share the magic of "Miss Starlight" with the one person he loved most in the world – his Papa, the High Lord of the Night Court.

As fate would have it, one week later they arrived at the theater, Rhysand's heart pounding in his chest with a nervousness he hadn't felt for years. He let Nyx guide them to one of the booths that held an upper vision of the scenario, his son kept gazing at the stage with an enchantment that seemed to hold a spell over him. The performance began, and a whole bunch of songs were being presented that night. The musical was called "The Whole World of the Night Court", each actor portraying a different city of his territory, telling its story in the form of a song.

The lights turned off again, and Nyx started to shake completely in his chair with excitement. As the grand theater's velvet curtains parted, a hushed anticipation swept through the audience. A spotlight illuminated the stage, and there she stood, "Miss Starlight," bathed in a celestial aura, ready to weave her magic once more. Rhysand sat straighter in his seat, his heart fluttering with both curiosity and the enchantment that surrounded the mysterious lady, a sudden uneasiness taking his body.

As for Nyx, his wide violet eyes were shimmering with excitement, his small hands gripping the edge of the plush seat. He was eager to share this moment with his Papa, to introduce him to the magic that had captured his young heart. Her, interpreting once again her character Starlight, began to tell Velaris stories to the public as if it was her own, eyes shimmering at each word. Suddenly the orchestra began to play a mesmerizing melody, and the lady took a deep breath, her voice tinged with emotion as she began to sing. The soulful notes of the piano accompanied her melodic voice, setting the stage for the tale she was about to tell.

- Theodosia writes me a letter every day; I'm keeping the bed warm while her father is away, He's on the human side in Prythian; He's trying to keep the colonies in line; But he can keep all of Prythian; Theodosia, she's mine - She sang, making a clear reference to the firstly High Lord that idealized Velaris as a gift to his wife, Theodosia. This fact made Rhysand even more aware of the spectacle.

- Love doesn't discriminate; Between the sinners and the saints; It takes, and it takes, and it takes; And we keep loving anyway; We laugh, and we cry, and we break, and we make our mistakes; And if there's a reason I'm by her side; When so many have tried; Then I'm willing to wait for it; I'm willing to wait for it.

With a glance at Nyx, who was completely enthralled by the performance, Rhysand knew that this lady had the power to touch hearts and ignite imaginations.

- My grandfather was a fire and brimstone preacher; But there are things that the homilies and hymns won't teach ya; My mother was a genius; My father commanded respect; When they died, they left no instructions; Just a legacy to protect - At that she clearly meant the legacy every High Lord had to carry to protect the city, himself being one of the many that had to sacrifice a lot to keep the secret - Death doesn't discriminate; Between the sinners and the saints; It takes, and it takes, and it takes; And we keep living anyway; We rise, and we fall, and we break, and we make our mistakes; And if there's a reason I'm still alive; When everyone who loves me has died; I'm willing to wait for it; I'm willing to wait for it.

As the chorus echoed through the theater, Rhysand felt a connection to the song's message. He understood the yearning for something that might be just out of reach, and it resonated deep within his soul.

- Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it, wait - The quiet intensity in her expression held the audience captive while the back vocals reached their peak, and Rhysand found himself captivated as well, unable to look away.

Her voice rose, reaching heights that seemed to touch the very stars, and as the orchestra swelled around her, Rhysand could feel the passion in every word she sang.

- I am the one thing in life I can control; I am inimitable, I am an original; I'm not falling behind or running late; I'm not standing still, I am lying in wait - He understood it as a way of saying how every city thrived and Velaris kept being a hidden city towards the other courts - Nightmare's face is an endless uphill climb; He has something to prove; He has nothing to lose; Nightmare's pace is relentless, he wastes no time; What is it like in his shoes?

Nightmare was one of the characters previously introduced in the show, representing the Hewn City and their politics of participating in every decision, especially by being the formal representation and the known image of the Night Court.

- Nightmare doesn't hesitate; He exhibits no restraint; He takes, and he takes, and he takes; And he keeps winning anyway; He changes the game; He plays and he raises the stakes; And if there's a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive; Then, goddammit, I'm willing to wait for it; I'm willing to wait for it - Her voice went to a soft breeze, tickling Rhysand's soul as she rose her voice again for the final chorus - Life doesn't discriminate; Between the sinners and the saints; It takes, and it takes, and it takes; We rise, and we fall; And if there's a reason I'm still alive; When so many have died; Then I'm willing to - Her eyes met his in the middle of the public, a sense of understanding passing through them, an unspoken love for their court and the child both of them unknowingly raised together. She was still looking him deep in his eyes as she smiled and repeated the final phrase - Wait for it.

The final verse carried an air of determination, of embracing the journey and whatever it may bring. As the last notes reverberated through the theater, the audience erupted in applause, their hearts touched by the lady's stirring performance. Rhysand glanced at Nyx, whose eyes shone with a mixture of awe and admiration.

- That was amazing, Papa! Did you like it? - Nyx asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

- Yes, my star, I loved it. And I'm glad you brought me here to experience it with you - Rhysand smiled, his heart full of love for his young son and the lady who had brought so much joy into their lives.

Amid the ending performance with a song that reunited all of the cast together, the lady glanced up and met Rhysand's intense stare once again, singing some of the parts to him, in that fleeting moment the music seemed to draw them closer, and when she smiled bright and big and bowed to him in the end, his heart skipped a beat.

The final notes of the fun goodbye to the cast proportionate filled the air as the audience erupted into thunderous applause again. Nyx's heart swelled with pride, knowing that his Papa, the High Lord of the Night Court, had enjoyed the mesmerizing magic of "Miss Starlight's" song, just as he had. He couldn't wait to introduce them properly. As the crew took their final bow and the curtain fell, Nyx tugged on his father's hand, his excitement evident in his wide, sparkling eyes.

- Papa, come on! Let's go meet her! - He exclaimed, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. Rhysand chuckled at his son's exuberance, happy to see him so thrilled.

- All right, lead the way, little star - He said, following Nyx as they made their way backstage.

Behind the curtain, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement as the crew congratulated the lady on her outstanding performance. Nyx's eyes searched for her, and when he finally spotted her amidst the commotion, he pulled his father towards her.

- Miss Starlight! - Nyx called out, his voice filled with adoration. The lady turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw Nyx approaching with Rhysand in tow. She smiled warmly, her gaze moving from Nyx to Rhysand.

- Hello there, both of you - She greeted them, her voice as sweet as a lullaby. Nyx beamed, proud to have his father by his side.

- This is my Papa, the High Lord Rhysand. Papa, this is Lady Starlight, High Lady of the musical theater - he said, introducing them with a touch of pride.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, My Lord - The lady said, offering a graceful curtsy - Nyx has spoken very highly of you. I couldn't wait to finally meet the father of my biggest fan - Rhysand couldn't help but feel a hint of curiosity as he looked at the lady before him.

- Likewise - He replied with a genuine smile - Your performance was extraordinary. I've never heard such a captivating voice. And please, call me Rhysand, or Rhys - Her cheeks flushed with a blush of delight, and she bowed her head slightly

- Thank you, Rhysand. I'm honored that you enjoyed it - Before Nyx could contain his excitement, he interjected.

- Papa, you should ask her out on a date! - He shouted to his father, jumping up and down in place as he looked at both of the people he loved the most in the world (not that he would ever admit it next to the rest of his family). Rhysand blinked, surprised by Nyx's candid suggestion. He exchanged a glance with the lady, and a soft smile played on her lips.

- Is that so? - He asked, humor dancing in his eyes. Nyx nodded enthusiastically.

- Yes! She's really nice, and I know you'll like her. And I really want to call her mommy. And I'll change my name to Nyxie Starlight, and we'll be a family - Rhysand couldn't help but chuckle at his son's matchmaking efforts. Nyx, in his characteristic innocence, suggested they should marry soon so that Rhysand could be Mister Starlight, Nyx's mind forever intertwining her character's name with her true identity.

- Well, if it's alright with you, Miss Starlight, I'd love to take you out for a date - The lady's smile grew, her eyes shining with amusement.

- I'd be delighted, Rhys - The blush that covered her cheeks made Rhysand's heart flutter in a way he hadn't felt, even when he was with Feyre.

Nyx reveled in having both his beloved daddy and his adored Starlight in his life, and Rhysand found solace and bliss in a love he thought he would never experience again.

As they exchanged information and chose a day and place, Nyx couldn't contain his excitement, thrilled that his plan had worked. He knew that this lady had brought so much joy into his life, and he wanted nothing more than to see his Papa happy as well.

As they bid their farewells and left the theater, Rhysand felt a sense of warmth in his heart, grateful for the magical night he had shared with his son and the enchanting lady they now knew as "Miss Mommy Starlight." And as they looked up at the starlit sky above the Night Court, Rhysand knew that the adventure they had embarked upon was just beginning, an adventure filled with love, music, and the serendipitous magic of young hearts.

They embraced the magic of their fate, as their lives intertwined like a dance, creating a tale of love that would be whispered through the ages in the immortal lands of Prythian as the most magically musical love story that ever ran through history. Or the most disgustingly cute, as Nyx would proclaim, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

Heyy for the acotar bingo can you do second option??? Or maybe co workers but like modern! Au

I saw this and was like: what if I used BOTH??!!!!

I also noticed you didn't specified any character so WELCOME BACK RHYSAND HIGH LORD OF THE NIGHT COURT MUAHAHAHAHAHA

See? I did this without putting Feyre as a villain we can all do that

Also I made this angst I don't care I like pain

HEY, I kind of did a universe like CC so, faes and magic but elevators and cellphones? Is that right?

Warning: Almost happy ending more to the no than to the yes, no fluff, angst

Waiting On A Miracle

During the day in Velaris, it was not uncommon for you to find Rhysand, CEO of the renowned Nightstar Corporation, and your boss, pacing around his room in a nervous walk. He often found himself facing a problem that seemed almost insufferable. Despite his wealth, success, and influence, Rhysand's heart yearned for one thing that had eluded him for far too long – true love. He believed that having a powerful and talented woman by his side could raise his spirits and complete his life, filling the void he usually felt in his heart.

He carefully crafted the life he wanted to have, made plans for his future, and ignored the past. It wouldn't be different for the moment he would have to choose a wife. You knew that, always have. And yet, in the darkest moments of the night, you imagined yourself as his choice. You had the knowledge it would never be you. What could you even offer? Coming from a powerful family you were the only one without a drop of magic in your blood. You could winnow and that's all, it ended right there. Everything you lacked in magic you worked hard to compensate for in brains. You were at the top of your class, numerous prizes filled your house and you worked for the best. But in the end, you would never be enough for anyone but yourself.

Rhysand turned to you in one of his days of pacing around and thinking about his future. It was actually a routine to wait for him to finally sit down, you would offer any candy in your drawer and he would smile. Sometimes he would praise you and even send a kiss, memories of your bubbly past with him would fill your heart and both of you would go back to work. Now you worked closely with him in the upper echelons of Nightstar, but in the past, you had shared moments of intimacy, a colorful and passionate friendship during college and the years before his rise. This relationship, even if it had left an undeniable mark on both of you, had turned into a mere spark that often burned a little brighter with every interaction.

But now, Rhysand found himself feeling distracted and consumed by thoughts of his future marriage. It was difficult for him to concentrate on anything else, and he realized that he had to choose soon or else he would become a madman. Taking a deep breath, he picked up his phone and called you while you were in your office, requesting you to come to his room for an important discussion.

As you entered his office, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of nervousness and hope. You and he had been through so much together, and lately, things seemed different between you. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally going to confess his true feelings for you. You were waiting for a miracle.

-What did you want to talk about, Rhysand? - You asked, trying to keep your emotions in check - Is it so important for you to make me get up and travel to the other side of the corridor? - Rhysand looked at her with a mix of hesitation and determination.

-I wanted to talk to you about something important. I've been doing a lot of thinking as you saw, and I've come to a decision.

-Yes, what is it? - Your heart skipped a beat, and you leaned in slightly, your hope rising. It was stupid but you still thought. Maybe…

-I've decided to try a relationship with someone - He said, choosing his words carefully.

-Oh, really? That's great news, maybe the cabinet will finally stop bothering you with that - You were trying to sound nonchalant while your heart raced with anticipation.

-Yes, her name is Feyre - Rhysand said, watching your reaction carefully.

Of course, his choice was none other than Feyre, a remarkable and gifted individual, possessing an extraordinary talent that set her apart from others. Being such a powerful female and still making time to search for what she truly loves was definitely a courageous thing to do. You couldn't deny the appeal. The hope in your heart dimmed instantly, replaced by a mixture of disappointment and sadness.

-Feyre? That's... that's wonderful - You said, trying to mask her feelings. Rhysand noticed the change in your demeanor, and a pang of guilt washed over him. He knew he was hurting you, and he wished he could find the right words to make things better.

-I thought you'd be happy for me - He said gently, trying to explain himself - I've been trying to get over this step of my life for a long time - You managed a weak smile, though your heart felt heavy.

-Of course, I am. Feyre is wonderful, and you deserve to be happy - Rhysand sighed, feeling the weight of his decision.

-The thing is, I don't really know her. We talked once at a party and it was quite good. But I don't know her - Your brows furrowed at his declaration - I know what you're thinking, but I'm sure I'll get to marry her in the end. It's not that hard to fall in love with me - He tried to joke, but you weren't in the mood for it, both his decision and the situation being too much for you. He sighed and dropped his posture on the chair - Look, I care about you, and I value our friendship and our work together. I hope you understand that this doesn't change anything between us.

-Of course, I understand. What we had during college was just… distraction. I'm glad you found someone that can fit in your necessities - But inside, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy and sadness. You had hoped that maybe, just maybe, you were the one he had chosen. Maybe all those times he was thinking about you. Nothing less than a miracle could take you out of the place your lack of magic put you on.

As you left his office, Rhysand felt a mix of relief and regret. He had been honest with you, but he couldn't shake the guilt he felt for the pain he caused. He knew he had to give his relationship with Feyre a chance, but a part of him couldn't help but wonder what might have been with you.

In the days that followed, he tried to be there for you as a friend, hoping to mend any rift that had formed between your relationship. He wanted to preserve the connection you had, even if it couldn't be what none of you had hoped for. And as he embarked on his new pursuit with Feyre, Rhysand couldn't help but wonder if he had made the right choice. There was a part of him that still felt drawn to you, a lingering feeling that maybe, in another time and place, things could have been different.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the city skyline with hues of orange and pink as Rhysand sat in his office, deep in thought. He had been racking his brain all day, trying to plan the perfect first date for Feyre, something that would sweep her off her feet and show her how much he cared.

-Okay, so first, we'll start with a candlelit dinner at that small Italian restaurant in the venue next to my house - Rhysand mused aloud, his mind drifting to the cozy corner table he had shared with you hundreds of times when you both worked late night and he invited you to sleep at his house, laughing and sharing stories over plates of delicious pasta and wine - Then, we'll take a stroll through the park, hand in hand, talking and laughing - He tried to continue, the image of your smile and the warmth of your hand in his flashing before his eyes.

Rhysand sighed, realizing that everything he was planning for Feyre was merely a reflection of the moments he had lived with you. It struck him like a bolt of lightning – he knew you so well, knew what made you happy and what made your heart sing, but when it came to Feyre, he was completely lost. A mixture of guilt and confusion washed over him. He had been so focused on pursuing Feyre, believing she was the key to completing his life, that he hadn't even noticed his own heart steering him in another direction. The truth hit him like a tidal wave – he was in love with you.

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with the realization. How could he have missed it? He needed Feyre in his life because of his job and status, but it was you who had captured his heart in a way he had never thought possible. You had been there for him, understood him in ways no one else did, and your moments together were the most cherished memories he had.

He only had to choose. Feyre and his job. Or you and his heart.

It never took him long to decide. With the decision already made in his head he dialed your number in his phone and asked you to meet him at the rooftop garden – the very place where you had shared so many of your intimate conversations and moments. As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you arrived, looking curious and slightly apprehensive.

-What's going on, Rhysand? - You asked, your gaze searching his face for answers.

-I was trying to plan a date for Feyre, but as I was describing it, I realized that everything I was saying… it's what we used to do, what we've done together - He paused after saying it, but you sensed it wasn't enough, his hesitation preparing you for the worst.

-What do you really want to talk about? - You asked, taking a seat across from him. Rhysand took a deep breath, his heart feeling heavy with the weight of what he was about to say.

-I need to talk to you about your position in the company - He began, trying to find the right words.

-What about it? Is there an issue? - You frowned, sensing the unease in his voice.

-I've decided to downgrade your position - Rhysand looked down for a moment before meeting your gaze again - You are going to work with Azriel now - The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you could barely believe what you were hearing.

-What? Why? Have I done something wrong? - Your heart starts to beat faster. Everything you ever worked for, the life you sacrificed yourself numerous times to have, everything was crumbling down right in front of you.

-It's not about that - Rhysand replied, trying to keep his emotions in check - I've realized that I'm getting too distracted by you, and I need to focus on my pursuit of Feyre. I can't afford any more complications - Your eyes welled up with tears, and your initial shock turned to anger quicker than you could process what he said.

-Are you serious right now? You're downgrading me because you don't know how to flirt properly with Feyre without thinking about me? I can't believe you, Rhysand! This is ridiculous! - You shout out, your anger rising with each passing second as your mind realized what he just said - Are you fucking out of your mind? You are the one having problems and I am the one who had to suffer and sacrifice a part of my life?

-I know it sounds harsh, and I'm sorry - Rhysand said, his voice softening - But I can't deny my feelings for you any longer. You've become a distraction, and I need to put some distance between us - You stood up abruptly, your emotions boiling over.

-You're unbelievable! First, you loved me and slept with me, and now you're acting like it meant nothing? I thought we were friends at least! - Rhysand looked pained, guilt etched across his features.

-It's not that it meant nothing. It meant everything, and that's why I need to do this. I can't bear the thought of losing you, but I can't continue like this either - Your anger turned into hurt, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

-So, I'm just some inconvenience standing in the way of what you want? I thought you cared about me!

-I do care about you - Rhysand said, his own voice catching with emotion - That's why I made sure to keep the same salary, the same schedule and readjusted you to one of my best men. You will be treated well and-

-It's about that, you idiot! Do you even know me? It's not about the job itself, it's the fact that you are downgrading me for a problem that's not even mine to solve! - Your eyes poured out tears like no tomorrow would come. You looked into the skies and asked yourself if it was actually real - You know me. You know my family, my history. You know the world we live in. I don't have magic, Rhysand. And without that I have nothing. You know the number of colleges that denied my application because of my lack of powers. The only thing I ever had was my brain and my position and now you are taking it from me too.

-But it's not about your powers-

-Shut up - You interrupted him again, feeling a new wave of emotion flooding you - We both know that it is. If I had any kind of power, you would've chosen me to be your wife. Wouldn't you? - His silence told everything you needed to know, when he dropped his eyes to the ground you knew it was over - I can't believe I fell for you. I thought you were different, but you're just like every other male who only cares about his own ambitions.

-No, it's not like that - Rhysand protested, reaching out to touch your arm. But you pulled away before he could get any closer, his heart shattered a bit more.

-Don't touch me. And don't come looking for me. I need some time to take all of my things from the office and change to Azriel's - You said with a sarcastic tone, still in disbelief at what happened to you.

As you walked out of the rooftop, Rhysand sank into one of the seats, his heart heavy with regret and guilt. He knew he had hurt you deeply, and the weight of his decision was crushing him. He had let his pursuit of power and his job blind him to what truly mattered – the connection he had and the love that had grown between the both of you. He let his mind decide what was best for him and now he lost everything that mattered.

He realized that he had been selfish, trying to keep you close as a confidant and friend while pursuing someone else. It wasn't fair to you, and it wasn't fair to him either. He had to confront his feelings and figure out what he truly wanted.

As the minutes turned into hours, Rhysand couldn't concentrate on anything else, especially when he looked outside the door and the lights in your office were turned off, emptiness filling the room. The only thing you left at your table was the gifts he gave to you during all those years working together.

The night kept tense as Rhysand now stood before Feyre, his mind blank as the thought of your tears kept rushing back and forth. He had finally worked up the encounter to talk with Feyre, hoping that she would see the potential in their union. But as he looked into her eyes, he felt nothing and knew that the outcome would not be what he so fiercely desired.

-You heard my proposal. We could make a formidable pair, and I believe we could accomplish great things together - But his voice was an empty whole, his expression a paint of his sorrow.

-Is that all this is about? Power and necessity? - Feyre raised an eyebrow, and he could tell she knew something was wrong.

-It's not just about that - But the phrase came out in a whisper of uncertainty, he sighed and put his head on his head, not even looking at the female in front of him anymore - Or at least I thought or hoped it wouldn't be - Feyre's gaze softened, and she smiled a bit. Always the sweet and comprehensive Feyre.

-Rhysand, I appreciate your honesty and your proposal, I am truly honored. But power and necessity are not enough for a marriage. We need more than that. We need love, trust, and a deep emotional connection - He said with a smile, holding his hand through the table and offering reassurance.

-I know - Rhysand said, his heart sinking - And I thought I could find that with you. In the future - Feyre shook her head gently, even laughing a little.

-Rhysand, I'm attracted to females. I've always been honest about my feelings and who I am. I can't give you the love you deserve, not in that way - His head went up and his eyes widened in surprise.

-I didn't know. I swear to you. I'm deeply sorry if I knew I would never propose such nonsense - He captured her hands in both of his and took it to his head, pleading forgiveness - I shouldn't have proposed this stupid thing to anyone, actually. I'm so sorry.

-It's okay. I never talked about it in public, you wouldn't know. I'm still getting comfortable with it - Her eyes sparkled with something he couldn't tell, but he knew she had forgiven him - You're an incredible man, Rhysand, and you deserve someone who can love you the way you need to be loved.We both deserve to find happiness in our own ways - He could only raise her hand to his lips and press a kiss in it. Thankful. He felt thankful - You're a good male, Rhysand. Don't ever doubt that. But you need to stop being so stubborn and let yourself live for your emotions, not just your company.

-I'll try - He nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and pain in his heart. As he walked away from Feyre that night, Rhysand felt a sense of both loss and relief.

As he found himself standing outside your door, he knew that the one who truly held his heart was waiting for him inside. It was time for him to stop denying his emotions in favor of his job and take a chance on love, on the person who had been there for him all along.

With a newfound determination, Rhysand knocked on the door, ready to embrace the future with open arms. Whatever the outcome, he knew that he couldn't keep hiding behind his company and ambitions, it was time for him to live for his emotions and the person who had captured his heart.

As the door opened, your eyes widened in surprise and confusion at the sight of Rhysand standing there, looking both heartbroken and determined. Before you could say anything, he began to speak, his voice wavering with emotion.

-I need to tell you the truth - Rhysand said, his voice barely above a whisper - I love you. I've loved you for so long, and I can't bear the thought of losing you. I've been such a fool, pursuing power and hiding behind my ambitions, when all this time, you were the one I wanted.

-You think a big declaration can make everything go back into place? - You cut him off before he could continue, your voice trembling with anger and sadness -Do you realize how much you hurt me? Did you even listen to what I said? How can I trust you, Rhysand?

-I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I was blind to my own feelings, and I pushed you away when all I wanted was to be with you - Rhysand's shoulders slumped, and tears welled up in his eyes.

-You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice, Rhysand, and it wasn't me - The desperation in his eyes became evident as you moved to close the door. He ran and stopped you as fast as he could.

-I thought it was what I wanted, but I was wrong - Rhysand said, tears streaming down his cheeks - I can't lose you. I can't live without you.

-You can't just walk back into my life and expect everything to be fine. I don't know if I can trust you again - Your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability, but you couldn't forget the pain he had caused. The things you lost because of him.

-I love you so much, and I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you - He declared, his voice raw with emotion - Please, give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me.

You felt torn apart, your heart wanting to believe him but also fearful of being hurt again. You took a step closer, bringing him inside your house before closing the door again. The same way Rhysand had made his decisions days before, you had made yours. In a moment of emotion, your lips met his in a kiss, a mixture of love, pain, and longing shared between you. It was a moment of desperation and yearning, the culmination of your intense feelings for each other. But as the kiss ended, you stepped back.

-I need time - You whispered, voice shaking with desperation - I need time to process everything, to figure out if we can ever find a way back to each other.

-I'll wait - He said, his voice filled with determination - However long it takes, I'll wait for you.

You nodded once before kissing him again, the movement memorized in your own being, the pattern very well known by both of you as you took off his coat and his shirt as you moved blindly towards your room. He knew where everything was, he knew every part of your body and every part of your heart. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough if he didn't know how to treat your heart. He knew you, you knew him, but neither of you knew how to deal with each other.

As the morning light filtered through the curtains, the heaviness of the previous night's emotions lingered in the air. Rhysand found himself lost in your room. Your side of the bed was empty when he tried to find you. He lifted his head and started to walk around, searching for you all over your house, a place he knew like the back of his hand. He found you in the living room, hair still messy from the night before, lips still swollen and only a robe covering your body. He could get used to this vision.

-Good Morning. I thought that maybe we could - But you held up your hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

-I've had time to think, and I can't be in a relationship with you - You said, her voice resolute but tinged with sadness. Rhysand felt a mix of shock and disappointment wash over him, but he understood your decision. He cut you deeply, and he couldn't expect you to jump back into a relationship with him after everything that had happened.

-I... I understand - His voice barely above a whisper, looking at you with the hope that you would look back at him - I was a horrible person to you, and I'm sorry for everything I put you through.

-I appreciate your apology, Rhysand. But I need to move on from this and focus on my own happiness - Rhysand couldn't help but feel a sense of loss as he watched you stand firm in your decision. He had hoped for a different outcome, but he knew he had to respect your wishes after all.

-Well, at least go back to your position as my assistant - He suggested, trying to find some semblance of their previous relationship. But you only shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips.

-I'm sorry, Rhys, but I think I've found my place with Azriel. I'm very comfortable working with him, and I believe it's the right choice for me - Rhysand felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that he had truly lost you in every possible way. He had been blind to what he had in front of him, and now he was facing the consequences.

As he made his way to his car, the weight of his actions and the loss of your presence overwhelmed him. He felt defeated, lost, and uncertain of what the future held for him. But just as he was about to get into his car, he heard your voice calling out his name. He turned around to see you standing in front of the door, he looked at you hesitant but hopeful.

You took a deep breath, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of hope in your eyes, as you considered what you were about to say.

-You can still send me messages, you know? Maybe there's still a chance for us, or maybe not. But if you ever want to talk, I'll be here. I'll think about answering them.

Rhysand felt a mixture of relief and uncertainty at your words. Maybe there was still a sliver of hope for you, a chance to rebuild what had been broken. But he also knew that he had a long way to go to earn your trust and love back. And maybe he would have a bit of competition with Azriel as your boss.

-Thank you - He said, his voice filled with gratitude - I'll take the chance.

And with that, you stood there for a moment, watching as he processed his emotions. Neither of you knew what the future held, but both of you were willing to find out. And with that, he left, giving you the space you needed. It's not a happy ending, but it was a step towards something real – a chance for both of you to confront your past, and your emotions, and to decide if love could endure the pain and uncertainty that lay ahead.

Hello for the ACOTAR bingo, could you do Nightmare with Rhys? I need some comforting fluff right now 😅😅

I wasn't sure who exactly was supposed to be nightmaring

So I chose the most obvious choice: Rhysie boo

It's honestly so sad that SJM robbed us from more scenes of Rhys' trauma healing, like? Girl, he was SAd for 50 YEARS the bare minimum is to give this man a proper therapy cmon

Anyway, there's not much description of his nightmare so I don't think a trigger warning is necessary, but let me know!!

Also, such good song this one, huh?

The Loneliest

You awaken in your room, feeling an unsettling aura in the air, the room seems smaller and the wind seems thicker, you almost can't breathe. A chill runs down your spine, and a wave of unease washes over you. Instinctively, you know something is wrong with Rhysand. His powers, usually well-contained, seem to be slipping through the cracks of your door, and a thick mist shrouds your surroundings, circling you as if they asked for help.

Without hesitation, you follow your heart and trust the feeling you have in your heart. You get up from bed and try to find your way through the deep shadows that filled the corridor. You make it through the foggy path, your determination pushing you forward, guided by an unspoken understanding between you and Rhysand's power. The mist parts as you walk, as if recognizing who you are and your genuine care and affection for him.

Reaching his room, you find Rhysand thrashing on the bed, and instantly you know he is caught up in the grip of the terrible memories of his abuse Under the Mountain with Amarantha. He's been suffering from the terrible nightmares since he came back from that hell, your paths always crossing when you suddenly wake up during the early hours and he was awake trying to find something to sleep in the kitchen. You would do some tea and he would tell you a bit of his dream. 

You never found him while he was still deep in sleep, and the sight before is nothing but terrifying. You know what your High Lord had suffered, and tried to be there for him, even if sometimes, the heart that learned to love him more than what you had planned throbbed inside of your chest in pain as he talked to you.

You gather your courage and gently shake him awake, calling his name softly until his violet eyes meet yours, filled with fear and pain.

-Rhys, it's me. You're safe now. I'm here - You whisper, trying to ground him in the present moment - You're not there anymore. You're with me.

As he slowly comes to, his powers continue to flicker around the room, but you remain steadfast, feeling the trust his power places in you. You sit by his side, soothingly running your fingers through his hair, feeling the silkiness between your fingertips. Your touch seems to calm him, and he clings to you as if you're his lifeline.

-It's okay, my love - You murmur, your voice filled with tenderness on the nickname you never had courage to use, but that seemed to soothe him even more - I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I said I won't let you face this alone.

Your words are a balm to his tortured soul, and he clings to you tighter, seeking solace in your embrace. He silently makes space for you in the bed, signaling for you to lay down with him. You get on his side and reach to touch his face, holding them with your life as you look deep into those eyes that you used to love so much, but that were filled with sadness and despair now.

-What happened? Do you want to talk? - He looks like he is about to cry, his throat wavering with emotion - You can cry, Rhys. I'll hold you every time you do it.

As if you spin a key in his brain, his eyes filled with tears and he started to blow them out. His chest was hurting from the amount of time he denied himself the right to cry for himself, to mourn the person he was and lost Under the Mountain. 

-What happened, Rhys? - His sobs slowed down to quiet breathing, but his face didn't leave your neck.

-I… I dreamed that it was you - It was all he said before the tears started to pour again. Your heart breaks a little bit more with each sob.

-What do you mean it was me? - You try to soothe him while playing with his hair, the dark onyx locks smelled so good that you couldn't help but take a deep breath, the scent being imprinted on your soul.

-Sometimes I dream that it's one of you instead of me in her claws, and she makes me watch as she tortures you - Your eyes close in pain, you can't even imagine how hard it was for him during all this time protect his family and wake up every day trying to imagine if she found out your secret - But tonight it was only you, and I… I couldn't watch it. I screamed and punched and tried everything I could, but she never stopped. I wanted to die looking at you like that. I was losing a part of me that would never be mine again as you died in her arms.

-I'm here, Rhys. You are here. We are together and I'll never leave your side again, do you hear me? - You pull his head out of your neck and hold him in place, caressing his cheeks as you kiss his forehead, forcing your tears to not leave your eyes - You are the most amazing person I ever met and you did everything you could to protect everyone in your Court, especially your family. And we are here, we are safe. You did it, Rhys. You saved us.

You continue to shower him with affection, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, and his neck, leaving a trail of adoration in your way. Your words flow freely, a confession of love that spills from your heart without hesitation, your necessity of making him feel better makes you not process the words that you were saying.

-You are the bravest person I know, Rhysand. Your strength, your resilience, it leaves me in awe. You have faced unimaginable things and still managed to find light in the world, to find strength for your Court and keep working with and for us everyday. Your kindness, your compassion, your fierce loyalty to those you love. It's what draws me to you, what makes me love you so deeply.

With every word, you see a hint of ease in his eyes, a reminder that he is not alone, that you are there for him, heart and soul. Time seems to blur as you continue to pour your heart out, naming every little thing about him that captivates you - the way his eyes light up when he smiles, the sound of his laughter that brings joy to your heart, the way he stands tall and proud, a protector of his people and his land.

-You are the most beautiful soul I've ever encountered, Rhysand. You deserve all the love and happiness in the world, and I promise to stand by your side, to cherish you and hold you close, no matter what challenges come our way from now on. 

As you speak, you notice the mist around you beginning to dissipate, a sign that Rhysand's powers are regaining control. The storm in his mind starts to settle, and he clings to you with newfound strength.

-I love you so much - He finally whispers, his voice raw with emotion. Your smile is sad, the meaning of his phrase is not the one you wish him to say, or at least that's what you tell yourself, not wanting to give yourself any kind of hope or have weird thoughts during such a delicate time.

-I love you too, with all that I am - You reply, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose - And I will never stop loving you.

The next morning, as the first rays of dawn gently filter through the window, you find yourself waking up in Rhysand's warm embrace. His arms are wrapped securely around you, as if he never wants to let go. You don't even remember the moment you drifted to sleep, and once you realize what happened you try to slip out of bed, but he stirs awake, his eyes finding yours with a soft smile.

-Where do you think you're going? - He playfully asks, his voice laced with affection - You're not getting away from me that easily. You said you were going to be with me every time, and I'll take advantage of it.

He tightens his hold, pulling you back into the cozy cocoon of blankets, and you find yourself giggling at his antics. You settle back into his embrace, relishing the feeling of being so close to him, even if just for a moment, just for one day until he feels better.

-I love waking up next to you - He confesses, brushing a gentle kiss against your forehead - I might want this everyday, do you think you can move your things to my room until sleep time or do we need to ask the House? - As if listening to the High Lord, three boxes filled with decorations that adorned your room appear on the floor, making you turn to Rhysand with a shocked face.

-Seriously? - You raise up an eyebrow and he just shrugged, a smile threatening to grow on his lips.

-I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me. You are helping me heal from everything that happened Under the Mountain in a way I never thought possible, in ways you can't even imagine. With you, I feel safe and understood. You see me for who I truly am, and you accept all parts of me, even the broken ones. Maybe you can even fix me - His words warm your heart, and you can't help but feel overwhelmed and hopeful by the depth of his feelings. It's evident that your love and support mean the world to him.

-You don't need to be fixed, Rhys - You assure him gently - You are already whole, and I love every single part of you, scars and all - He smiles gratefully, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

-I can't promise that I won't have difficult moments, but I promise to always share them with you - He says suddenly, making you frown a little - You've shown me what it means to truly love and be loved, and I want to share my life with you, every moment, every joy, and every sorrow.

-Are you saying…? - You lose track of thought as his eyes warm up with love to you.

-I meant what I said last night. I love you. And losing you, even if just in dreams, was one of the worst experiences I ever went through - He gets closer to you, his nose almost touching yours - It made me realize that all those years I spent warming up to you was a waste of time. Time I should've spent with you - Your heart swells with love for him, knowing the strength it takes to open up and be vulnerable. You cup his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes with unwavering affection.

-I will wait for you, Rhys. For as long as it takes. Your love is worth every moment of patience. I'll be here to support you, to lift you up when you need it, and to stand by your side for whatever happens. I also meant every word. You are part of my every being and you are already tied to my soul - He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss, conveying all the emotions he struggles to put into words. As he kisses you a feeling in your chest tightens up, the mating bond making itself recognized between you.

He separates himself from you only to check if you feel the same, the shock in your face is enough for him to laugh and hug you, before kissing you again and sharing his tears of happiness, the feeling shaking the bond that tied you together. 

In the days that follow, your bond with Rhysand grows deeper. You spend time together, from you helping him even more during his work time to cooking with him on nights where the Inner Circle didn't appear in your home, but also creating quiet moments of intimacy where you simply cherish each other's presence from sitting in the balcony to watch Velaris during sleepless nights to reading a book while he played with your hair - or the other way around.

Healing is a journey, and you walk alongside him, hand in hand. With each passing day, Rhysand opens up a little more, revealing his fears and hopes, and you listen with unwavering support. You both find comfort in knowing that you have each other to lean on.

As every night falls, you continue to share a bed, finding solace in the closeness and vulnerability it allows. Together, you create a safe haven where you can both be your true selves, no masks or pretenses needed. In those quiet moments before sleep, as you curl up in each other's arms, you feel the weight of his love, and you know you are exactly where you belong. You have found your home in each other, and the bond you share only grows stronger with time. And so, you wait for him with a heart full of love and patience, knowing that he is worth every moment of the journey. 

Unplanned (batboys and Eris x reader)

a/n: this is totally random, it has been stuck in my head so I decided to write it. Also Love of my Life part 3 will be out… uhhh, kinda soon…. And I’ve never written something like this…. Eris is high lord btw.

⚠️- nah

Masterlist

You paced outside your room in the House Of Wind. You were bone tired but the four males in your room were sending you into overdrive. What could two high lords and the two most powerful Illyrians be doing in your room? And lounging on your bed like they owned it?

“Going to come in y/n? Be a shame to keep us waiting.” The seductive voice of Rhysand made your body heat up extremely quick.

You sighed softly to yourself and stepped into your room. The scents of the males hit you, musky, very musky. Well shit, you were so doomed.

“Hello y/n,” Eris purrs, “would you like to cuddle?”

You gaped at him, before snapping back, “why shouldn’t I turn you into snails right now and kick you out of my room so I can have a fitful sleep!?”

“Because,” interjected Cassian, “you’re too tired to cast that many spells and if you want to sleep, why not sleep with us? I promise, we can share.” All their infuriating smirks told you they could sense your arousal and you knew that they savored it.

Azriel got up from the bed and slowly came towards you, when he was close enough, he grinned down at you and extended his hand. “Your choice Love, take my hand and we’ll cuddle with the others, smack me and we’ll leave.” You were still mulling over the pet name he’d call you when his words sank in.

You took his hand.

Mother Hens

a/n: yeah… new idea, there goes my WIPs. Sorry y’all! I make no promises of when they'll be out.

wc: 590 + 5

⚠️: not proof read, slightly suggestive

masterlist

*****

You groaned bending over as you pulled out the arrow in your back and side. Slapping a hand over your side you spewed a few billion curses as your wounds slowly, ever so slowly knitted back together. You were so lucky to be a cousin of Thesan’s mate. Only thing you hadn’t inherited were the wings, which you really wanted.

Gathering your strength, you pictured the training ring of the House of Wind. The light and shadows took longer then usual to gather around and winnow you to the House.

Or maybe your magic just didn’t want you to die.

So stupid, you chided yourself, there are fucking wards. But it was too late to save yourself as you plummeted from 50 meters above the training ring. Giving up you closed your eyes, willing your death to be quick and almost painless.

Your body jolted as it slammed into something hard and a yelp of pain escaped from your mouth.

“Easy, sweetheart.”

Rhysand gently landed before sprinting you to the living room where you saw Madja waiting in a very exasperated fashion. Azriel and Cassian swarmed you and Rhys and the last thing you saw was the old healer pinching the Illyrians and taking you in her arms.

*****

Rhys paced outside the door that lead to the sitting room as Azriel leaned against the wall and Cassian alternated between sitting and standing. You had been out for 8 hours and none of them had went on going anywhere and wouldn’t be going anywhere until you woke up. Or, apparently, Madja ordered the, to go somewhere.

Pointing to Cassian and Azriel she snapped orders, “you two go get her some food and water. High Lord go get her more bandages and a blanket. She should be waking soon but be gentle. The knife in her back hit her spine at a horrible angle and she’ll have a scar.”

Rhys sprinted off grabbing all the supplies needed and much more before winnowing back to find Cassian and Azriel loaded with a feast.

“We should have sent someone with her.”

“We never should have sent her.”

“I should have gone.”

All the males spoke at once as they voiced their thousands of concerns and regrets.

Fifteen minutes later the war hardened illyrian warriors were breaking down on the couch about how they’d failed you. (A very funny sight for anyone randomly walking in.)

As in Madja, who was coming to tell the males you had woken and were asking for them, they jumped up to follow the old healer almost trampling her in their rush.

As soon as your door opened, the males started with a rush of apologies and asking at least a billion times if you were alright.

"SHUT IT. I am fine, just a little shaken and it's not your fault. I was most qualified for the job and it was the right choice to send me."

Rhys and Azriel shared a look at their fierce little friends words and Cassian scooped you up.

"Of course sweetheart, we'll just regret it in silence." Rhys winked and they carried you out, past a very exasperated Madja.

"NO SEX. Rhysand I will kick your ass!"

Cassian smirked. "No promises!"

The males made their way to your room and carefully set you on the bed.

Rhys ran a bath while Azriel grabbed the feast they'd prepared while Cassian (lucky asshole as Rhys put it) stayed with you.

"Cauldren help me, do you idiots ever stop being overprotective?"

They smirked at her in unison and shook their heads.

*****

A/n: To that Anon that told me to stop thinking my writing is awful. thank you, I love you! But.....

taglist

@thelov3lybookworm @profound-imagination @stargirl1714

thank you!

Love you too (modern!au!rhys x reader)

a/n: thus begins the collection of fanfics all in modern times and Rhysand x reader. yeah.

warnings: rhysie

wc: 475

masterlist

*****

Rhysand trudged up the River House driveway, all the while regretting letting his brothers design such an elaborate house. It must be fit for a boss, they’d said. It was fit for a boss and unnaturally beautiful. And he did particularly enjoy the great balconies with outstanding views, but the god damned driveway was way too long.

However, Rhys smiled at the thought of the person waiting inside the big, elaborate house in question. You, who he’d found working at the local post office that was closing down. You, who he’d offered a place in his home because he’d heard you ranting on about how your apartment was being torn down for some stupid ass technology business.

Said technology business was run by him. He’d never felt so much soul-crushing guilt then in that moment. He’d almost asked the builders to stop destroying the already destroyed apartment building but you’d laughed, and reassured him that the owner was an ass and deserved it all.

So you’d secured a new job at the Velaris bookstore that payed well enough yet you hadn’t moved out. Whether it be the nice house or just not wanting to find another apartment and move out, Rhys was glad for it.

All that had been almost a year ago.

Rhys unlocked his front door and stepped in, ready for the usual sound of a sizzling hot meal and the smell of fresh made food, instead all he heard were snores. A frown made its way to his brows and he dropped his bag on a hook before heading down the hallway. As he passed each room he glanced in to see nothing even slightly different from this morning when he’d left. When he reached the sitting room his frown melted and a smile instantly curved his lips. There you were, curled up with a book resting against your nose, fast asleep.

He pulled out his phone, dialing chipotle and asking for your regular order before grabbing your book and setting it in the table, not before marking your page, he’d made that mistake before. He found the nearest blanket and was pulling it over your shoulder when a few harsh knocks and impatient doorbell rings were heard.

“Hurry up, you idiot, it’s laser tag day.”

He cursed softly having forgot all about his weekly boys night. He quickly sent a text to Az asking for a minute and to calm Cassian down.

Rhys kissed the crown of your brow softly and murmured a gentle, “I love you.”

He froze, he’d never said that before… but he’d definitely thought it. It didn’t matter, you were asleep anyway. He grabbed a jacket and headed out.

What he didn’t see was your secretive smile as you opened your eyes and the door slammed close, you whispered into the empty room, “I love you too.”

*****

a/n: Sorry for the nonexistent updates. Love you guys.

taglist:

@thelov3lybookworm @profound-imagination

“Hey, Stranger.”

Based on a request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: In attempt to get away from the ball, Rhysand encounters a generous stranger and seems to find exactly what he’s looking for when she invites him in.

Warnings: Mention of sickness | all fluff | teensy argument at the end but has a HEA :)

4.1k words

Rhys had yet to decide where it was exactly he was going. His hands were tucked into his pockets and the darkness of his power swirling from his neatly pressed jacket.

He left the ball thrown in his honor quickly after it started, it was an event meant solely for him to find a High Lady, or at least scope out the options.

A night of mindless women vying for attention that he had no care for, none of them held what he was looking for, and none of them were her. Who she was, he had no clue, but he would, once he found her.

A low whistle came from his lips, the tune the same one he heard as he snuck out of his own damned party.

I was squatted down beside the bar sign, writing the nightly specials with the chalk in my hands when the stranger approached.

"One free drink with the order of a meal? It's almost too good to be true," The male said. I turned, not noticing his footsteps, and glancing towards him. I chuckle, rising to face him— even if he towered over me, and readjusted the sign to stand on its own. "You hungry? I could open up a few minutes early," I offer and his dark, manicured brows lift in slight surprise. He was beautiful, truly, his tanned features and hair dark as night complimenting his stunning violet eyes that seemed to be stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Such generosity, from a stranger," He smirks, his eyes softening as he took in my modest dress and simple hairstyle. It wasn't pity that shone in that glorious violet, but warmth. Then those eyes flick down from my face, lower, then slowly trail my figure all the way back up— lingering for a moment on the way my neckline dipped a little too low for comfort. I blurt out my name and his eyes snapped back to mine, not at all looking ashamed for his staring.

"There, not strangers anymore." I shrug with a gentle grin. He mirrors it with a charismatic smile that has been guaranteed to have dropped panties before.

"Lead the way then," He jerked his head back towards the tavern and I nodded, swiveling on my heel and heading towards the propped open, slightly worn red door. The tavern itself was a little rough around the edges, the paint chipping from the walls, the fireplace dusty, and half of the table legs were uneven. But it paid the bills and the regulars didn't seem to mind as long as we served drinks.

"Why aren't you at the ball tonight?" The male asked as I loved my way around the bar counter and he sat on one of the stools.

"I have to stay and look after my mother," I explain, and I wasn't sure why I told him something so personal, so I quickly added, "Besides, once that ball is over this bar will fill tremendously. Someone's got to run it."

He simply nods in reply, leaning onto the counter with fascination in his eyes, as if I were a creature to be studied.

"And what about you? Why'd you leave?" I ask, turning away from his stare to pour him a mug of ale.

"I didn’t find what I was looking for there," He explains as I place the mug in front of him. "Out here, though, much better." His eyes linger on me as he brings the glass up to his sensuous lips, and something tells me he wasn't telling me the entire truth.

"That's all? I don't buy it, you're too polished to be wandering like this, what's the true reason?" I lean my hands onto the counter, tilting my head at him.

"Polished, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me." He taunted, setting his mug down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"And I'd say you're deflecting," I retort. "So tell me, what are you hiding, stranger?" I smirk, using the nickname to my advantage, if only to further show I knew very little about him.

"Perhaps I found a better reason to stay away?" He suggests, leaning back in his stool with casual grace as if he comes to this bar nightly.

"Oh? And what might that be?" I arch a brow, pushing off the counter and crossing my arms over my chest.

His smirk widens. "I'm looking at her." He purrs and a blush blooms across my cheeks and my heart rate picks up, I prayed to every god that he couldn't hear it.

I steel my features into submission as I say, "You're not a very subtle male are you?"

He snorts, looking down at his pressed black suit. "What about me says subtle?" His eyes come back up to mine, reaching to his lapel and picking an invisible piece of lint from it.

I chuckle and shake my head. "Very little," I say with an amused smile, going over to the sink and grabbing a damp cloth that hung over the faucet, wanting to busy my hands, I begin wiping down the countertop.

"So is this what you do, then? Tavern maid by day, barmaid by night?"

"No, I only work the night shift here,  I'm a teacher at the school down the road during the day," I explain, a proud grin on my lips as I think of all my young students.

"A teacher? I thought they were supposed to be strict?" He suggests and I smirk, glancing up at him with a wicked gleam in my eyes.

"I can be strict if you'd like," I shrug, feigning innocence.

"You're bold for someone who doesn't know who they're talking to," He purred in reply and I scoffed.

"Bold?"

"Inviting me in? Flirting with me?" He suggests, leaning onto the bar, closer to me.

"I am not flirting. And I'm only being nice, you looked like you needed saving from your own thoughts." I shake my head, turning away from him and discarding the damp rag back over the sink faucet before moving towards the kitchens where I could prepare him a meal.

"And you think a meal will do that?" He asks from behind me, I can feel his stare on my figure as I shuffle behind the bar for a plate.

"I've been told I make a killer pie, you'd be surprised how far a slice will get you," I say while playing with a piece of my signature pie.

"I'll take one then," He hums and I walk back over to him, placing the plate of warm pie in front of him.

"Good." I hold a fork out to him. He takes it with wild amusement in his gaze before digging into the slice and taking a large bite. I tried to pretend I wasn't watching his reaction, instead refilling his ale but his minor groan did not slip past my notice.

"So, you never told me your name, what should I call you?" I lift a brow, glancing over at him and pushing his mug back over beside his plate.

"Handsome? Mysterious? Dashing? All three? I'll let you decide." He replied unflinchingly and it takes everything in my power not to scoff.

"I think I'll stick with 'stranger' for now," I give him a pointed look but he only replies with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Your loss."

———

The Stranger came back the next day, and the next, and the next. I always set a slice of pie aside for him. He usually came in at the end of the night, when the crowds dwindled and the barstools were put up, and once he was done with his food he helped me with the dishes, and I tried not to acknowledge the way my heart skipped a beat when our hands would brush beneath the warm soapy water. He'd always walk me home afterward and bid me farewell at the door, and only once he was gone would I realize that I never got his name. And if I did remember he'd change the subject or call himself handsome again.

I didn't get too hung up on it, I was far too distracted by his casual grace and clever remarks.

At some point we had shifted into him walking me from the school house to the bar, then meeting with me again to walk me home, I don't even know how it happened, how he had interwoven himself so much into my life. Not a stranger, a friend, whom I still did not know the name of.

I hadn't been expecting to see the stranger today. I wasn't working at the bar tonight, I told him that, yet here he was at the school house grouped with all the parents there to pick up their kids. They stared sometimes, at me and him. It was unabashed and more of a gawking look than a stare but if the love life of their children's school teacher is the only drama they have in their lives then so be it. I let them stare as the Stranger slung an arm around me and guided me along.

"I thought I told you yesterday I'm not working tonight?" I say, propping my hands on my hips as I stare at him with a pointed stare. "Which means no daily pie?" I say because that's what this was, right? He'd walk me to and from the tavern for some free food then be on his way. That was all.

He shrugs, his hands in his jacket pockets casually as he utters, "I still wanted to see you, slice or no."

"Shouldn't you be busy with more important things?" I ask, taking a few steps closer as a gaggle of young kids rush past me with their bags halfway on their shoulders, running to their parents.

"Who says this isn't the most important?" He suggests and a pink hue graces my cheeks. I look down at one of my students struggling with his bag.

"Well, you're always welcome," I say while leaning down and adjusting the boy's straps onto his back. The kid thanked me then rushed off, staring slightly at the Stranger in wonder. "Though the kids might ask you to read a story if they see you hanging around too much." I smile teasingly while brushing the front of my clothes off.

"I think I can manage that." He hummed, staring at me like I hung every star in the night sky that this court worshipped.

"I hope you know I'll be holding you to that," I say with a small smile, grabbing my own bag from its cubby and slinging it over my shoulders.

"Can you hold me to walking you home as well, or should I take my leave?" He asks, leaning against the doorway of my classroom.

I scoff a laugh, shaking my head amusedly. "I suppose some company would be nice." I drone dramatically and he returns my chuckle with his own rich, deep laugh.

The crunch of shoes on gravel sounded as the Stranger walked beside me, his black suede shoes so contrasting to my colorful kitten heels that the younger girls in my class adored so much. "So what does a school teacher do on her night off?" He asks after a pause of comfortable silence. Our hands brush as we walk, so I shove my hands into my pockets and shrug.

"Oh you know, wild stuff, baking pies, reorganizing the pantry, going to bed after dinner, truly living on the edge," I remarked, tossing him an incredulous glance.

"Dangerous, I might have to stick around just to make sure you survive." He intones and a soft giggle leaves my lips as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

I could feel his stare linger on me at that moment, and perhaps it was the sun setting behind me, or the echo of my laugh, but I could’ve sworn he whispered, “Beautiful.” I glanced at him curiously but he looked away.

"You know, I've been thinking—" He started and cut him off.

"Treacherous words." I purr, earning myself a sidelong glare.

"Rude, as I was saying, I've been thinking that you might be one of the most interesting people I've ever met." He confesses and I snort, looking at him like he’s gone mad.

"What's funny about that?" He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest— and I most definitely did not miss the way his muscular arms strained against the fabric of his jacket.

"I work two jobs and live with my sick mother, there's not much interesting there," I utter, looking at the familiar slightly run-down town townhouse in front of me.

He shrugs. “I stand by what I said,” He hums, continuing to stay beside me all the way up to the front door.

My hand rested on the doorknob but I didn’t make the move to go inside, instead, I turned to him— my breath hitching at our proximity. I hadn’t realized how close he was, but now I could feel the warmth radiating off of him, his smell of sea salt and citrus invading my senses. I swallowed thickly as his eyes glanced down to my lips, then quickly back to my eyes.

"You've got flour on your cheek," He murmured and I flushed beet red in embarrassment.

"Still? Oh gods, I was prepping some dough for the tavern this morning," I replied, rubbing at my cheek with panicked movements and he chuckled, moving forward and reaching towards my face, then hesitating before touching me.

"Here, can I?" He arches a dark brow and I blink up at him but nod.

He cups my jaw, his thumb swiping over my cheek in a lover's caress. His touch was so intimate, and his calloused hands only brought warmth.

“There,” Again, his gaze went down to my lips, but before he could lean in I turned towards the door, fumbling with my bag for my keys while clearing my throat.

His touch didn’t linger as he retracted his hand and then took a few steps back. “So do I get an invite inside or am I subject to wandering the streets looking lost until I find my way home?" He suggests, simply filling the silence as I scrounge for my keys.

"Something tells me you're often lost," I say slightly shakily, finally finding my keys and unlocking my door.

"Not with you." He says casually and heat rises to my cheeks. I swing the door open, scanning the room for my mother then figuring she must be in bed. “You can come in, for a few minutes,” I say, entering the house and sliding off my shoes.

He follows my actions and closes the door behind me, taking in the warmly lit cabin, the fireplace crackling in front of the sofa, the curtains spread and welcoming in the last of the sun's rays.

I silently shuffled into the kitchen, and the stranger followed on my heels.

“So this is where the magic gets made, hm?” He said, eyeing a pie half dug into on the counter.

I frown at the sight of it and his brows furrow. “What is it?” He asks as I scan the room.

“I made that pie for you,” I say softly. “Hold on, just a moment,” I say and stalk towards the dining room separated by a partition wall. I peek my head through the open archway, finding my mother at the end of the table with incriminating crumbs and jam on her plate— and the corners of her mouth.

"Mom, what are you doing out of bed?" I sigh, more worried about her health than her stealing a slice from a container that I specifically told her this morning not to eat, granted she was half asleep and any food she could get down was as valuable as gold to me nowadays.

"I need a few moments of feeling young, and this pie will get anyone out of bed." She waves her hand at me dismissively, making a sour face as I attempt to look disappointed.

"Who's your friend?" She jerked her chin in the direction behind me, but she didn’t even glance at him. I turn to see the stranger now leaning against the open doorway, taking up the whole space with his height.

"Uh, he's—” I begin to say, only to realize I could not answer, for I still did not know his name. Yet here I was, inviting him into my home.

"By the cauldron— the High Lord." My mother gasps, standing up, her chair scraping against the tiled floors.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gods, you'll have to excuse her, she's a little out of sorts—" I wave her off but the Stranger simply smiles and bows formally to my mother.

"At your service, my Lady."

My mouth goes dry. "You... you're the High Lord?"

The stranger— no, High Lord Rhysand, smirked. It dawned upon me that I never learned his name because he made sure of it, he only visited me during opening and closing hours, and that first night, the night of the High Lords ball, he said he hadn’t found what he was looking for, a potential wife. He had been looking for a High Lady that night.

Yet here he stood in my dining room like he’s always belonged here, his dark hair, his violet eyes, and his tanned skin all slotting into place in my memory of what I’ve learned of my courts High Lord. I swallowed thickly, glancing between him and my mother, then back at him.

“Can we speak, in private?” I say with a polite smile.

He pushes off the doorframe and moves for me to pass through. “Lead the way.” He gestures for me to pass with his hand in a dramatic manner. “It was nice meeting you, Miss,” The High Lord smiles charmingly at my mother and I grab his arm, dragging him down the hall towards my bedroom.

“You too, dearie!” My mother calls in a slightly frail voice.

I ignore him and pull the male into my room, closing the door behind him and then staring at him like he’s turned my world upside down.

I didn’t know how to react or what to say. I wanted to be furious at him, wanted to scream and yell and throw something at him to express the suffocating emotions clawing up my throat, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

Because beneath the betrayal, the anger, and the shock, lay something I thought I’d never experience. That flutter of something warm I felt when he smiled at me, or when our hands brushed, made me feel safe in ways I thought I never could before.

“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” I whisper, quiet but not weak. My words were barely audible but he heard me, he always did.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you, I just, I got lost in the feeling of you seeing me, for me.” He expressed but my glare did not waver.

“But you still have duties, you have a title— you have a gods damned court, you can’t just use me to play pretend,” I argue.

His eyes soften at my words and he takes a dangerous step forward. “I’m not using you, and I’m not playing pretend— in fact, it’s quite the opposite. With you Darling, I feel more like myself than I have in centuries.” He admits and I swallow, wringing my hands anxiously. “I wanted to tell you,” He adds.

“You should have,” I stress with narrowed brows, a furious expression that didn’t quite meet my eyes.

“But would you have treated me differently if you had known from the start?” He suggests and I clamp my mouth shut.

He was right, I doubt I’d be as unguarded with him if I knew of his title, and I certainly wouldn’t allow him to walk me home every night, and gods— oh gods, I flirted with him. The High Lord.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, rubbing at my face, unsure how to navigate any of this.

“I’m still me, nothing has to change.” He takes another step, less than an arm's distance away now. Too close, or too far. I didn’t know.

“But they do, you’re a High Lord and I’m just—”

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence, you are far more than ‘just’ anything.” He cuts me off and I release a low, well-earned sigh.

“High Lord,” I muttered under my breath, the weight of the title seeming to make my room close in around us.

“Rhys, please, call me Rhys.” He grabbed my still fidgeting hands, his familiar callouses still the same, the warmth still the same.

“I could never fit in your world,” I express.

“You already do, in ways I thought never imaginable.” He expressed, his thumb caressing over the fluttering pulse in my wrist.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want you in it— beside me, I mean.” He confessed and I swore my breathing stopped and the words were stolen from my mouth.

“You, you can’t be serious,” I shake my head, disbelief encasing me.

“I told you I didn’t find what I was looking for the night of the ball, but I did— an equal, a High Lady.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Everything was a phantom wind, except those violet eyes that I feel like I’ve known my entire life. Those remained steady, constant. “Rhys,” I whisper and the tension in his shoulders dissipates, as if hearing his name on my lips had lifted a weight atop them.

“I don’t know the first thing about, any of that,” I admit and a soft smile tugs at his lips.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out, together.” He promised. “You don’t have to decide right now, you don’t have to decide for another century if that’s what you prefer— just think about it, because I truly believe no one else could fill that role, not the way you can.”

I nodded slowly, still processing everything, and leaning into his touch, his hand slipping into mine while his other came to cup my cheek.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I nod. Because I had to weigh my job at the schoolhouse, and my situation with my mother— I couldn’t just uproot my life and move into a palace.

“Will you also think about finally letting me kiss you?” He mutters, our noses nearly brushing.

I crack a sly smile. “I’ve done enough thinking about that, come here Stranger,” I grab him by his collar and he grins wildly the moment our lips connect.

His hand on my jaw slides to the nape of my neck while his other moves to my hip, pulling me impossibly closer.

My arms sling over his shoulders, my chest pressed to his, slotting together like the final piece to a puzzle I’ve been trying to finish for years.

Everything else faded away as my back made contact with the cold wood of my door and his wicked tongue slid over my bottom lip. I gasped softly and he took advantage of the moment to invade my mouth. He explored and tasted and savored every inch he could find, memorizing the feel of me against him, my taste, my rapid heartbeat, my muffled noises.

I didn’t know I was suffering from lack of oxygen until he pulled away and I had to take a deep, recovering inhale.

I blinked a few times, the kiss tilting my world on its axis.

He chuckled, the sound like velvet against my bare skin. “That really did a number on you, huh?” He taunted and I glared up at him, wrapping my arms a little tighter around the back of his neck.

“Don’t get cocky, I’m still mad at you,” I grumble but his smile didn’t falter.

“In my defense, you never asked if I was the High Lord,” He said matter of factly and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, right because that’s a normal question to ask people I meet on the street.” I scoff and he nods, staring down at me with a love-drunken smile.

“I might take you up on that High Lady offer sooner than expected if kissing is a part of my job description,” I murmur, ghosting my lips over his.

He gifts me a wolfish grin in reply. “Much more than kissing is on that description,” He purrs, matching my tone.

“Tempting.” I rise onto my toes and connect our lips once again, and again, and again. Prepared to do so until I was sure I was sick of the taste of him.

I knew it was reckless to make such life-changing decisions so suddenly, but internally it was clear what my answer would be to his offer.

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All Over My Skin

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader x Rhysand

Description: You find yourself in an empty room between the High Lord and the Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Smut, Threesome, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Oral, Cum Eating, Orgasm denial (a bit, kind of)

Word Count: 10620

Rating: 18+

Nothing could have prepared you for the way this evening would unfold when you left your house, something like this only seemed possible in your dreams. The events that led up to this moment were getting hazier with every stroke of the Shadowsinger's tongue against yours, strong hands holding onto your waist and hips, pulling you impossibly closer, until you could feel his own heart beating against yours.

You almost didn't even show up, seriously considering coming up with an excuse to politely decline the High Lord's invitation so you could stay in, curled under your fuzzy blanket, reading a book while the rain fell outside. These types of parties aren't exactly your cup of tea, and the ones you actually get invited to are few and far in between. In fact, you were still not entirely sure why you had been invited tonight in the first place.

A simple scribe sent in from a different court to aid some of the Night Court's libraries couldn't be too important. Your work wasn't even in the Hewn City, but in the surrounding, smaller towns - strangely enough the name of the city where you've spent the last few days, before returning to the Court of Nightmares seems to be evading your mind, you usually have an excellent memory, must be the wine.

You certainly weren't as important as the other guests present, and some of the court's denizens seemed to agree with the fact, not trying to hide their distaste for your presence here. None of the other scribes or librarians had been invited, leaving you by yourself, sitting by a quieter corner of the big, ostentatious ballroom, missing your friends back in the Winter Court.

It was in that exact corner that Azriel had found you, watching the crowd mingle while nursing a glass of champagne, deciding to be a good host and keep you company. This much hadn't come as a surprise, it was obvious the Spymaster didn't enjoy big gatherings such as these, but as polite as he always had been with you, you had never expected him to come talk to you outside of work. From the few glances his way, you could tell he wasn't exactly adored in the Court of Nightmares either, though the fear was a lot more pronounced in everyone's eyes than whatever judgment they held for the shadowsinger.

With him by your side, the boring party had quickly turned into the best time you've had in years, as you laughed along with him and tried not to blush too much at his captivating words and the undivided attention he was showing you, at the bright, boyish grins he was sharing with you.

As the hours passed and the party dwindled, some people started to leave while others started gathering in smaller groups around the room, drunkenly telling each other stories and laughing together. Your intention had been to leave when you noticed how late it had gotten and how few people remained in the ballroom, seeing as your accommodations were outside the Hewn City, usually convenient since it made it easier for you to travel wherever you needed to go.

When you made your wishes known to Azriel, he immediately offered to accompany you, but then one thing led to another, and you ended up in a vacant office instead, sitting on top of the dark mahogany desk with him standing between your legs, kissing and touching each other like your lives depended on it.

To say you hadn't imagined this exact scenario a million times before would have been a boldfaced lie. The spymaster had taken hold of your mind ever since the first time you laid your eyes on him, and really who could blame you? This male was impossibly captivating, his beauty only heightened by his mysterious demeanor and polite disposition, by his imposing frame and the tall wings draped behind his back, the slightly curly, dark hair giving him a boyish look as it fell over his forehead. And his shadows, swirling around his body, whispering every dirty little secret they can find in his ear.

It's no secret the Night Court's Inner Circle are some of the most beautiful fae anyone has ever seen, especially the High Lord with his ethereal purple eyes and silver tongue, so when you were sent to aid the recently crowned Lord of Night as a show of allyship from your home court, you had been more than excited. What you couldn't have predicted was for any of these otherworldly fae to notice you at all, but as Azriel's scent deepens with arousal, a groan escaping him as you tug on his soft curls, you realize you might have been selling yourself short.

The delicious sound sends pleasure coursing through your veins. You let your hands wander down to his shoulders, wanting to take his jacket off so you could feel his skin on yours, but not knowing how to do it without disturbing his wings. Ilyrians are extremely protective of their wings and you don't want to do anything that he wasn't comfortable with.

Azriel must have noticed your hesitation as he pulls back, “Is something wrong?” It takes you a moment to focus on his face, a shiver running down your spine at the hunger you find etched into his beautiful features.

“It's nothing,” the words coming out breathy, prompting you to swallow before continuing, “I wanted to take off your jacket but I'm not sure how…” He lets out an amused breath, a smile taking over his face as he leans down for a quick kiss before pulling away from you slightly, hands reaching out behind him to unbutton his jacket.

Both his jacket and shirt are pulled over his head in a matter of seconds, and your hands move to hold his waist, not being able to stop yourself from staring at the view. Fingers come up to trace the bargain marks swirling over his chest and shoulders, traveling down his arms, as he throws the clothes to the floor, taking a good look at your blushing face before grabbing your neck firmly and using his grip to pull you in for another passionate kiss.

Sadly, his hand doesn't linger around your throat, choosing to hold onto your thighs instead as he pulls you against him once more, wrapping your legs around him, fusing your bodies together. You feel him shuddering softly when your rake your nails over his scalp, but there's no time to revel in it before his hands start traveling up past your hips, taking your dress with them until he could easily reach your panties, tucking his fingers under the lace on either side, the rough skin sending goosebumps swimming across your body.

He pulls his mouth away from yours, resulting in an otherwise embarrassing whine to escape you. Any other noise of protest is silenced as he starts pressing messy, wet kisses down your neck, strong hand holding your jaw and maneuvering your head however he wants you. The marks he was leaving behind were probably going to give you trouble tomorrow, but in this moment you couldn't care less.

You let him have his fun for a while, breathy moans leaving your lips as he took turns nibbling and sucking on your skin, canine teeth teasing the side of your neck, tongue soothing the deeper bites, the ones that would still be etched into your skin come morning. But at some point you start missing his taste, impatience moving you to tug on his hair to get his attention, and judging by the smirk you feel pressed against your feverish skin, it has the intended effect.

Azriel leaves one more kiss on the column of your throat before giving in to your silent demand, coming up to press your lips together again, and allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck to keep him in place, moaning at your eagerness.

The feeling of him against you was mind numbing, you didn't know if you wanted to keep kissing him forever, or if you should give him the same treatment he gave you, and start running your mouth over every bit of deliciously looking exposed skin. You run your hand down his torso at the thought, deciding that you need something else entirely when your fingers move past the muscles he's worked so hard for, the scars he'd survived from, to follow a path of hair leading down to his waistband.

At this your intentions become clear and the kiss intensifies, getting messier as Azriel explores every corner of your mouth, your hands fumbling to unbutton his pants and his following suit, fingers easily finding the small zipper keeping your dress in place, ready to take it off.

“What do we have here?”

An amused voice startles you, a familiar surge of power filtering into the room, making you tense and push away from Azriel, trying to get away from him in an effort to make yourself look as presentable as you could. However, Azriel doesn't move or allow you to, keeping you in place as his shadows move to cover the both of you - you hadn't even noticed they were scattered around the room and not on his person as they usually prefered to be.

You feel him relax softly as he realizes who interrupted you, but this realization had the opposite effect on you. The person standing at the door was none other than the High Lord of the Night Court, and he had just found you half naked and about to fuck his Spymaster in his house, presumably on top of his desk. Azriel keeps one hand on the small of your back comfortingly as he stares at Rhysand, and you try to move away once more, your mind racing to find a way to apologize and leave as quickly as possible.

“You don't have to stop on my account,” he purrs, “You were putting on quite the show.”

The suggestive tone in his voice makes you momentarily forget your predicament, turning your head back to watch him, the sight prompting a small gasp past your lips. Rhysand had shed his jacket since the last time you'd seen him in the middle of the ballroom, his silk shirt was unbuttoned well past his chest as well, giving you a tantalizing view of his chest, his usually perfectly styled hair messy as if he'd been running his hand through it, a few strands falling over his forehead. He truly looked like temptation personified, but that wasn't anything new, what caught your attention was the desire on his face.

As the silence stretches uncomfortably in the room, you realize they must be speaking to each other in their minds using Rhysand's daemati abilities. Neither of them looks mad or worried, which allows you to relax at last, but you're still confused about the whole situation, and the way your underwear sticks to your folds isn't helping you think. You also feel a little left out as they keep watching each other, exchanging words that go unspoken, as if you weren't there in the first place. Seeing as they seem distracted enough, you take the opportunity to push away from Azriel and hop down from the table, not going far since his hands fall on your hips immediately, keeping you close as he finally looks down at you.

“I mean it, Az. We can both have her. You know I don't mind sharing, much less with you,” the High Lord finally says out loud.

The intensity in Azriel's beautiful hazel eyes, and the weight of his grip on your hips distract you for a moment, not allowing you to understand Rhysand's words right away, but when the implication clicks in your mind, you turn around abruptly, facing the High Lord with wide eyes. Azriel lets you, one of his hands leaving your hip in favor of holding onto the desk as he too studies the male who interrupted you.

“What do you mean?”

You had surmised that their little mental conversation had been about you, but hearing Rhysand's proposition had made every thought evaporate from your mind. You'd rather hear every word out of their minds, lest your body gets any ideas before you can comprehend what's going on. You'd also appreciate being kept in the loop.

Rhysand watches you for a second, purple irises appreciatively roaming over your entire form before holding your gaze. Azriel's shadows were still draped over you, but, since he was the High Lord of Night, you're not sure if he could actually see through them as well. It certainly felt like he could as his eyes burned into you, your body reacting as if he was actually touching you.

It seems he's searching your face for something, though you're not exactly sure what and have no time to think on it as he reaches a conclusion, a smirk appearing on his face as he starts walking around the desk with unhurried steps until he reaches you. Your body unknowingly followed him, and Azriel followed yours, until Rhysand was standing right in front of you, your neck bent so you could look up at him, and the shadowsinger stood behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his naked body, keeping you stuck in between the two irresistible males.

Rhysand's hand comes up to tuck your hair behind your ear, thumb moving to hold your chin, the golden rings he wears cool against your burning skin, as he finally answers your question, talking slowly, clearly, “It's no secret you want us both, darling,”

“What?”

If it wasn't for his hand holding your face, you would have looked away in shame the second the words left his mouth. His amused, self-satisfied expression doesn't help either.

“You're not exactly good at hiding your emotions,” he taps your left cheek twice with his finger, proving his point as your breath hitches and you fail miserably to school your expression, his wicked smile growing, before he pulls his hand away and adds, “Your thoughts tend to be particularly loud as well.”

This gives you pause, heart stalling in your chest. You're more than aware of his daemati abilities, but you also had seen him be nothing but respectful of others' wishes when using them. The Night Court has always been known to be conniving, even cruel, but you've had enough contact with the Winter Court's High Lord and seen enough important figures from other courts to know that this only meant they'd rather people know how far they could go than hide behind pleasant, fake masks. After meeting the Inner Circle personally, you were even more sure of this. You had never thought it possible that he would read your mind against your will but now you weren't so sure.

Rhysand continues, as if he was really privy to your thoughts and knew where your mind had gone, “Of course I try my best not to hear any of them, but it's very tempting when I hear my own name.”

“You're scaring her, Rhys,” Azriel warns.

His voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts and the tension in the room, prompting both you and Rhysand to look at him. You had almost forgotten he was still here, and when his gaze meets yours, you wonder how that was even possible.

You take a step to the side and lean against the desk so you could keep your eyes on both of them as you talk. It was also a way of getting a moment to breathe without their scents suffocating you, giving you too many unfiltered thoughts, especially since you weren't sure if they were only yours anymore. Rhysand seems to sober up at his Spymaster's words, the amused expression leaving his face almost completely as he reaches to hold your hand carefully, squeezing it once comfortingly before speaking.

“My mistake. I was just having a bit of fun, darling. I promise I never went into your mind without your knowledge. I also do my best to leave the room when I find myself unable to tune your thoughts out.” You can hear the sincerity in his voice, and that paired with the way he was holding your hand in his larger one, as if it was a normal occurrence, made you relax. “But my point still stands, it's impossible not to notice the way you look at me, and at Az.”

You're certainly no spymaster but you didn't think you were that obvious either. No one had ever called you out on anything of the sort. Your eyes fall on the silent shadowsinger, wondering if it was obvious for him as well, even if he can't hear your unusually loud thoughts as Rhysand had put it. Azriel's face gives nothing away, if it wasn't for the way his scent changed since you walked into this room and the obvious bulge straining in his pants, anyone that wandered in would believe you were actually talking about something as insignificant as the weather. He's making no efforts to soothe you so you suppose that's answer enough. He wouldn't be a very good Spymaster if he couldn't even notice the female gawking at him every time he's in the room after all.

“So you mean…” you trail off, not wanting to jump to conclusions as you look from one male to the other. This all seemed too good to be true, you were half sure you'd wake up in a few moments to find yourself in your bed, and this had all been a cruel trick your mind came up with.

“You can have us both, darling,” he confirms, squeezing your hand.

“Unless you want to stop,” Azriel reassures.

“No,” you're fast to say. Nerves or no nerves, you would see this through. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. That amused expression returns to Rhysand's face at your outburst, and it seems to be contagious as it travels to Azriel's face, albeit more muted. You swallow and try to calm your heart, wanting to do things right so as not to ruin the moment.

“I don't want to stop, but how are we doing this?” You ask slowly, trying not to let the heat of their stares get to you.

You wouldn't say you're particularly shy or inexperienced when it comes to sex, but you've never been with two people at the same time. It doesn't help that they happen to be two of the most beautiful males you've ever laid eyes on, not to mention one is the only Shadowsinger in Prythian, maybe the world, and the other is the High Lord of the Night Court, the strongest in history. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying to rub your thighs together as discreetly as possible at the thought. Of course the movement doesn't go unnoticed, both of the males' eyes glazing over further as their gazes dip down to your center before meeting yours again.

“I was quite enjoying myself watching the two of you, and it's only fair to let Azriel go first. He already started after all.”

“We can move to one of the rooms if you want,” Azriel offers kindly. He's proving to be such a sweetheart next to the menace standing beside him. You nod, a bed would be a lot easier to work with than this desk.

In the blink of an eye, you're winnowed to a dark room. Not having enough time to fully take in the ornate decorations around the room before Rhysand leans down to press a chaste kiss on your cheek and moves to a reading chair, pulling it closer to the bed before sitting down, a glass of whiskey appearing on his hand out of thin air. It seems he meant it when he said he wanted to watch.

“You can let me see her now, Az.” You hadn't even noticed his shadows were still clinging to your skin, keeping your flushed body hidden away from Rhysand's hungry eyes.

Azriel does as his High Lord asks, sending his shadows to every corner of the room until not one is covering either of you. It's a strange sight, to see the shadowsinger bare of his shadows.

His hands move to take your dress off, pulling it over your head in a single movement. It seems the urgency from before was returning as he pulled you in for another kiss, your hands moving around his neck on instinct. As he starts walking you backwards towards the bed, your brain regrettably catches up to you once more, reminding you that you're in the Night Court on business, so being caught in this situation could make you lose the job you've worked so hard for, and so you break the kiss to ask, “Are you sure no one will see us?” You almost whine when he stops, even if it was your own fault.

“I won't let anyone come in this room,” he promises, staring into your eyes.

“He did.”

“This is my house, darling,” Rhysand clarifies from his chair, “We're the only ones here.”

Azriel rolls his eyes softly, leaning down to kiss you again, noticeably slower than before. Taking his time to coax your body to follow his, hands moving over you appreciatively, almost reverently. He moves down your neck, biting over the same marks he had left before, allowing your body to relax further into him.

“Breathe,” he mumbles against your skin.

“I'd hate to think my presence won't allow you to relax.” It's certainly making you all tingly. “I've been nothing but good to you.”

“I'm just a bit nervous.”

“I can keep Rhysand quiet if you want,” Azriel says, completely serious, making you smile, any lingering tension leaving your muscles at the offer. You would actually love to see how Azriel would keep the High Lord quiet, something tells you he would succeed.

“That's not it. I just…” you bite your lip, hand moving to hold the back of his neck, playing with the short hair growing in, “I've never done this before,” you confess.

“This?”

“I mean having someone watching me,” you explain, not wanting them to think you don't want to do this.

Azriel hums, thumb caressing your cheek as he leans in. “Just let me take care of you,” he says, tilting your head how he wants it, lips bumping against yours with every word, “You won't even remember he's still here.”

“We'll see about that,” Rhysand chuckles, sending a small burst of his power over the room, prompting a shiver to run down your spine, Azriel's too judging by the way his body trembled against yours, even his wings twitched a bit - you wonder if the High Lord noticed that, if he liked it.

The shadowsinger chooses to ignore him in favor of tasting you again. Deepening the kiss immediately as he continues his journey towards the bed, uninterrupted this time, carefully pushing you down on the mattress, his body following yours, his warmth never leaving you. You don't miss the way he arranges your bodies so that Rhysand can watch everything he does to you from his seat by the side of the bed. When he pulled out that chair, you hadn't noticed how close he had placed it, but even with both yours and Azriel's labored breaths filling your ears, Rhysand was close enough that you could still hear his, could smell his arousal deepening his scent, the same way he could hear and smell you as well.

As your thoughts wander, Azriel breaks away from your mouth so he can travel down your body, as if he had the same mind reading abilities as his High Lord and wanted all your attention on him. Leaving wet kisses in his wake, sharp canine teeth teasing your skin and warm tongue tasting the sheen of sweat forming all over your body, he achieves just that, your mind not even remembering the violet eyes burning into you.

At last, his mouth finds the hem of your panties, tugging on the fabric playfully with his teeth and letting them snap against your skin. You let out a soft gasp at that, getting up on your elbows so you can watch him better, meeting his gaze. His hulking body was sprawled on the bed, huge wings thrown to the sides, out of his way, as he grabs your thighs and pulls them apart, making you plant your feet on the mattress so he can fit himself between your legs better, the backs of your soft thighs meeting the hard muscle of his shoulders.

“Azriel,” you pant, needing him to do something. The way he studies the damp fabric clinging to your folds making you tremble with desire. The hum that comes from deep in his chest when hearing his name not helping your case. Your hands fist the sheets until your knuckles turn white, trying to stop yourself from grabbing his head and guiding him right where you need him.

Taking pity on you, he moves in, but not before letting his hot breath meet your damp skin, just so he could hear you say his name in that breathy tone one more time. Pressing an open mouthed kiss over the drenched fabric, he lets out a moan of his own.

“How does she taste?”

Azriel looks into your eyes, smirking at the shiver that crosses your body as you're reminded of your audience. “Absolutely perfect,” he murmurs, still pressed against you.

Rhysand shifts in his chair, but you don't have the opportunity to see what he's doing because Azriel hooks his thumb under the lace barely covering your heat in that same moment. He pushes your panties aside and repeats the same motion as before, tasting you properly this time. After licking a broad stripe across your cunt, he lets his tongue swirl around your clit, once, twice, humming when you moan his name again, head falling back against the mattress, hands finally moving to tangle in his soft hair, not caring about anything else besides the pleasure he's giving you, thinking he would continue.

The annoyingly attractive smirk from before grows even larger when you whimper and lift your head to look down at him in protest, almost pouting when he pulls away suddenly and lets your underwear snap back into place. You might have been too quick to assume he was nicer than Rhysand. He shushes you mockingly, getting up on his knees as scarred hands move to your sides, squeezing the flesh appreciatively before grabbing hold of your panties and running them down your legs slowly, taking the obstructive fabric off and leaving your body completely naked for his eyes to feast on.

Azriel doesn't take his eyes off you as he balls the fabric a bit, throwing it blindly at Rhysand, who easily catches them with a satisfied smirk on his face. The High Lord had completely unbuttoned his shirt at some point, letting the dark silk frame his body as he lounged in the chair. Not that you had any doubts, but he was truly mesmerizing. He winks at you when he finds you watching him, bringing the glass down from his lips as one hand - the one still holding onto the thrown underwear - travels to his crotch, squeezing himself and letting out an obscene moan, closing his eyes at the stimulation. Azriel is breathing hard in front of you, and, by the way his hand is frozen on your thigh, you don't have to look to know he also can't tear his eyes away from Rhysand.

“I'm the one who's supposed to be watching,” he reminds the two of you, a taunting lilt to his voice, chuckling when you both look at each other once more.

This sets the shadowsinger into motion once more, a slight frown taking over his features, disappointed for being caught by the High Lord. He comes up to kiss you again, spreading your legs, so he can fit himself between them, falling into your body. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him as close to you as physically possible, moaning into the kiss when his hard length presses right where you need him most, bucking your hips instinctively back and forth, the fabric of his pants adding just enough friction.

He indulges you for a bit, guiding your hips and meeting your thrusts halfway as you grind on him unashamedly. Wanting to hear every little noise you let out, he moves down to your chest, biting and sucking everywhere he can reach, completely devouring you. The shadowsinger seems to be trying to make good on his promise of making you forget Rhysand was watching, a competitive streak of sorts rising up after the little stunt the High Lord pulled just now. Maybe you should thank him because for a moment you think you even forgot your own name.

You were embarrassingly close to an orgasm when he stops your movements, strong hands holding your hips in place, silencing yet another whine with a kiss as his hand moves to find your cunt, gathering as much wetness as he can before pressing one finger inside you slowly, letting out a curse and quickly adding another one when he hardly finds any resistance. The squelching noises it elicits are absolutely sinful, and entirely too loud for the quietness in the room.

“Just wanted to get you ready for me, but I think you can cum like this, can't you?” He punctuates the question with a chaste kiss, one you don't even have the awareness to reciprocate, entirely too far gone already. His voice sounds deeper, rougher than usual. It's making your toes curl, and it alone could send you falling into that orgasm, walls fluttering wildly around his fingers.

Just as you're getting lost in the throes of pleasure once again, teeth come down on your neck - a warning. You open your eyes at the sudden, unexpected pain, not even realizing you had closed them in the first place. Meeting his gaze, you try to understand what he wants as the hazel in his eyes threatens to drown you.

“That was a question, angel,” he explains, slowing down his pace, fingers barely moving inside you now, but still keeping you full. You don't remember the last time you had been this turned on, there's no need to look down for you to know your wetness is running down his hand and soaking the dark sheets, your thighs coated in it too.

“Let's try again,” Azriel says, keeping your attention on him and thrusting his fingers in deeper, massaging that place that makes you see stars. He repeats the question, honey dripping from his words like poison, “Can you cum like this?”

“Please,” you beg mindlessly, finding your voice at last, arms tightening their hold around his neck. His skin felt like an aphrodisiac against yours, making you want more and more. In this moment, you probably would have done anything he wanted as long as he kept touching you.

Moans rise in volume as he speeds up just enough, adjusting your legs with his knee and leaning down to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking on it before biting down softly on the hard peak and letting the tip of his tongue play with it, his hair tickling your skin.

It doesn't take long until you're falling over the edge, it feels like you've been dangling from it ever since he first put his hands on you. Pleasure rushes to every nerve in your body as you moan out his name mixed in with other incoherent pleas, nails digging into his skin, pulling out deep groans of his own. He lets you ride out your high, still thrusting his fingers in and out of you slowly even when he pulls away slightly, your arms falling from your hold on him as he sits up between your spread, quivering legs.

When your breathing calms down enough and you open your eyes, you find him entranced by the way his digits move inside you. His other hand had found its way into his pants, stroking himself in time with his thrusts. You sit up then, catching him by surprise at your eagerness as you tug down on his waist band, revealing his cock to the warm air in the room.

Azriel lets out a hiss when you wrap your hand around his length, fascinated by the way the tips of your fingers can't even touch each other. You'd never had anyone as big or thick as him, and the thought only made you wetter. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you studied him, thumb running up a particularly prominent vein, following its path up until you found his leaking head, feeling its softness on the pad of your thumb. Wanting to lean down and take him into your mouth, needing to know the weight and taste of him on your tongue as he drove his length down your throat.

“This is what I mean when I say your thoughts are too loud,” the usual teasing voice had a noticeable edge to it now, a breathiness that wasn't there before. When you look over at him, you find the High Lord's composure slipping through, hand grabbing onto the arm of the chair a little too hard, mouth slightly open as his breathing gets heavier.

Feeling bold, you look right into his violet eyes, letting your mind run wild as you imagined Azriel fucking your mouth, the filthy images pulling a moan out of Rhysand, loud enough that the shadowsinger looks to him in question, an eyebrow raised, barely hiding the amused look on his face since the High Lord looked as if he was the one who had your hand wrapped around his cock.

“She wants to suck your cock.” He sounds like he wants to watch you do it even more. You watch as Azriel's eyes glaze over, a hair raising noise escaping him. Rhysand had probably shown him all your little thoughts, the traitor.

“Is that so?” His voice was gravely, heavy with arousal. You nod enthusiastically in response, tightening your grip around him, a hiss escaping him before he can regain his composure. “We'll have to leave it for another time, angel,” he says, pulling your hand away from him, and prompting a whimper out of you, one he rushes to silence with a thumb over your lips. “First I need to fuck you.”

The desire in that statement sets you off, a frenzy that wasn't there before flooding your brain and pushing every sane thought out. Your hands move to help him remove his clothes, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a desperate kiss the moment they hit the floor. Azriel pushes you back down on the bed in a mess of limbs, teeth on teeth and heart to heart.

The next moments are hazy in your mind, one minute your hand had found its way back around his cock, swallowing every noise he let out, admiring the way his wings fluttered when you swirled your thumb around his head, and the next he had both of your wrists over your head in a steady grip, grinding his cock over your folds a few times before moving down, finally lining himself up with your cunt.

You catch a glimpse of the gentleman who's been assisting you in your work in the way he looks up at you in confirmation one more time, giving you the opportunity to tap out before things went further. Of course stopping was the last thing in your mind, but your heart fluttered at the thoughtfulness just the same. You nod at him, adjusting your thighs, opening them even more in invitation. A moan escapes you when you feel him push in, closing your eyes involuntarily at the stretch.

He goes slowly, giving you enough time to adjust and coming to a pause every time you show any little sign of discomfort until he bottoms out inside you, a breath of relief escaping you. It's not long until he's properly fucking you, both of you needing more.

As soon as he lets go of your wrists, deciding he would rather guide your hips as you meet his thrusts, your hands move to touch him, tugging on his hair, running your nails down his back. You hug him to you as close as physically possible, feeling his hard, warm body move against yours as he brings you unimaginable pleasure with every thrust of his hips.

No one has ever made you feel this insatiable before, and the suffocating power that filters through the room only makes your senses more heightened. You never thought having someone watching you in such a compromising situation would bring you so much pleasure, but your heart hasn't stopped beating out of time ever since Rhysand walked into that office.

“Azriel,” his name escapes in the midst of the breathy moans after a particularly deep thrust, one that has his pelvis grinding right over your clit in a maddening angle. You could feel him so deep inside you, you know it will be impossible to ever forget the way your walls hug him, the way he hits all the right spots.

“I know,” he says, leaning back and pushing your legs back towards your torso, your knees coming up to your head, spreading you completely open for him, making him go even deeper as he holds you in position.

It doesn't take much longer until you're cumming around his cock, a broken moan cutting itself short as your breath gets knocked out of you. You barely feel the way his hips falter, slowing down to avoid falling over the edge with you. He had every intention of playing with you a while longer before handing you over to his High Lord.

Azriel keeps fucking you through your orgasm, never stopping even when you come down from your high, a new one already building. He lets go of your legs, dropping them on his shoulders so he can hold onto your waist instead, moving your body in time with his thrusts. Sweat kept his hair stuck to his forehead, his wings spread out behind him, mouth agape as he watched his cock drive in and out of your heat, a ring of your cum forming around his base, making the sight so much more erotic.

“You have no idea how good you feel,” he murmurs to himself, the confession making you let out yet another embarrassing noise, one of your hands moving to hold onto his wrist. He meets your eyes, continuing with the mind numbing praise, “how beautiful you look like this, taking me so well.”

“You're making me feel so good too, Azriel,” you confess between heavy breaths, the way his cock bumps into every pleasurable point inside you making it hard to even breathe, let alone talk. He was going in so deep you swear you could almost feel him in your throat.

“Yeah?”

Biting your lip, you nod up at him, holding his gaze, wanting the hazel to consume you. Azriel's face is usually set into a mostly emotionless mask, fitting for the role of Spymaster, and even though he often shows more of his emotions when he's at ease, especially around his family, you've never seen him quite so open. He was completely unguarded as he looked down at you, not even his shadows coming to hide any part of him away from you.

It's this that pulls you under the waves of pleasure, letting go once more, giving way for yet another mind breaking orgasm, breath catching in your throat when he speeds up as you spasm against him, chasing his own high and intensifying your own as a result. Your entire field of vision goes black before you even close your eyes, the pleasure so intense you forget yourself for a good few moments, barely registering the way Azriel's body trembles along with your own, the curse that leaves his lips when he finally lets go, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside you, filling you up in every sense of the word.

You're a mess of limbs and sweat by the time you both come down, struggling to catch your breaths, his heavy pants hitting your damp skin as you both try to get a hold of yourselves. Azriel leans down to give you a languid, messy kiss, savoring your taste as he gives you a few more shallow thrusts, keeping you full of him, and almost making you want to beg him to fuck you again.

He pecks your lips one last time, a chaste kiss compared to anything else that has transpired between you tonight, moving to the side to leave a few kisses on his way to your ear, where he leaned down to whisper, “You did so good for me, beautiful.” A breathy moan escapes you at the praise, at the deep timbre of his voice as he whispers it so close to your ear. You feel his lips stretch into a smile at the sound, rewarding you with another soft kiss before continuing, “It's time to give our High Lord some attention too, don't you think?”

His words drive you to look to your side, finding said High Lord watching you intently, his pupils so blown out you can barely recognize the distinct purple of his eyes, sitting back on his chair, one hand holding onto an empty whiskey glass, thumb slowly running over the rim. You could clearly see the black lace of your panties peeking out from his pocket, it seems he intended to keep them. He had long since unbuttoned his pants, allowing his underwear to peek out. There was a noticeable strain over the crotch of his pants, in fact if it weren't for the angle, you're certain you could make out the shape of his cock through the expensive fabric. The way his pants were pushed down over his hips, told you he hadn't resisted the temptation of stroking himself while he watching Azriel fuck you, the thought sending a shiver down on your body.

It's not that you forgot Rhysand was right there, his presence is entirely too powerful to ever go unnoticed, but Azriel had truly fucked you into a brainless mess for a moment, and watching the High Lord now, after already having his Spymaster, the only thing on your mind is doing exactly what Azriel said and give him all your attention.

With one last kiss, Azriel moves away from you, carefully pulling out and getting up with a lingering look at the way his cum was leaking out of your hole now that nothing was keeping it in. You swear you could even see his semi hard cock twitch at the sight, closing your legs so it didn't run down onto the sheets. He walks to the nightstand, grabbing a glass of water as he unknowingly puts on a show of his own, his entire body on display as the light catches on his sweaty skin. Azriel looked like nothing less than a God in that moment.

Sitting up slightly, your eyes move to Rhysand, more than ready for him, but not exactly sure how to go about it, hoping he would take the initiative. You had expected him to still be watching you, but that isn't what you find. Instead the High Lord was focused on his Spymaster, completely captivated by his body the same way you had been mere seconds ago. You briefly wonder just how many times they've done this before, and how many times they've taken it further. The thought makes something inside you flutter, pressing your thighs together as you feel yourself growing wetter once again. Insatiable didn't even begin to describe what these males were turning you into.

“If you don't hurry up, I'll just fuck her again, Rhys,” the shadowsinger says behind his glass, looking up at the male in question.

It feels like time stops for a moment when their eyes meet, the usual roles reversing as the High Lord forgets himself momentarily under Azriel's gaze, desire spilling over and flooding the room. You can pinpoint the moment Rhysand catches himself, that self-assured air he always has about him returning as a smirk falls over his lips. He even sends a pulse of his power across the room, finally standing from his chair.

“You're always rushing me, Az,” he purrs, “As if you don't enjoy playing with your food as well.”

“Food?” You meant for it to sound like a question, a little offended even, but it almost sounded like a plea. You were starting to feel a little left out watching the tension between the two males.

“Oh, darling,” he breathes out, looking at the way you sat waiting for him on the bed, “I'll show you in just a moment.”

As he walks to you, Azriel moves over to take his place silently, sending you an encouraging wink when he sits down and finds you watching him. This situation is foreign to you, and, as much as you believe that Azriel has no problems with Rhysand being here at all, it doesn't change the fact that you had spent the night with him, laughing and talking, he had been the one to kiss you first, pulling you into that office, all this while you've barely exchanged any words with the High Lord, you had even seen him more often before this night.

Your view of him gets obstructed when Rhysand reaches the bed, standing over you as he takes off his pants, having already discarded his shirt on the way. Since you were sitting, you were perfectly leveled with his crotch, getting a front seat to the way his heavy cock hung as he finally freed it from its confines. The tip was glistening, begging for you to put it in your mouth and taste it.

“You didn't pay this much attention to me when I was the one sitting on that chair.” The words break you from your trance, eyes traveling up his chiseled torso to look up at his smug face.

It is true that you've spent a lot more time with Azriel, and had barely been able to even remember the High Lord was right there, maybe you should rectify that. Reaching out and grabbing his cock firmly, you decide to show him Azriel wasn't the only one you wanted. Your tongue finds the tip of his cock, licking away the precum gathered there and moving to swirl around the head, tasting him properly. A surprised gasp escaped his lips, one strong hand instinctively holding the back of your head when you put the whole tip in your mouth, sucking loudly as you grip his base.

He was around the same size as Azriel, and you really weren't sure just how much you would be able to fit into your mouth without gagging, but you were determined to get as much in as you could. As your other hand moves to hold his hip, you start pushing him deeper as you bob your head, letting him help you as he thrust a few times into your hot mouth, managing to get a quarter of the way in before he tangles his fingers on your hair, pushing you off him.

You look up at him in question, a string of spit still connecting your lips and his cock. You're trying hard not to pout like he had just taken your favorite toy away from you, but this is the second time they won't let you pleasure them.

“If you keep going I'll cum,” he explains, clearly holding back. This makes you feel better, powerful even, seeing how much he's affected by you.

“That's the point, High Lord,” you say, tightening your hold around his cock, licking his tip playfully, smirking when he lets out a groan from deep in his chest. There was an air of authority in the sound - he liked it when you called him by his title, and you're certain you'd love the way he would put you in your place.

“I'm going to take care of you first,” he murmurs, thumb caressing your bottom lip, “You've been so good for us. I think you deserve it.”

He leans down, holding your head in his hands as he pulls you in for a kiss, pulling away too quickly for your liking, studying your face. Your eyes were still a bit unfocused and your lips were kissed raw, shiny with spit - yours, Azriel's and his. He can't help but bite softly and lick over your bottom lip at the thought. He then lets his eyes travel down your body, ignoring your soft whimper.

He instructs you to lay back down, and your body moves to obey his command immediately, back falling against the mattress once more, almost trembling with anticipation as you wait for his next move. Biting your lip to stop another whine from escaping when his hand replaces yours for a moment, stroking himself twice, spreading your spit all over his shaft as he studies your body. Rhysand took his time mapping out the bruises and bites his spymaster left on your spent body, his hands falling to the exact same place on your hips Azriel's had been.

“Az really made a mess of you,” he moans out, as if the way he had been eyeing you up wasn't enough to make you want to jump his bones.

Spreading your legs so he could fit himself between them properly, Azriel's cum starts running down your hole. Your breath catches in your throat when Rhysand kneels down before you even get the chance to react, tongue stopping his spymaster's cum from falling down onto the mattress, groaning deeply at the taste. He runs his tongue over your folds a couple of times, your hands fisting the sheets as he teases your already too sensitive clit, before moving back down to your heat, hands holding your thighs apart as he starts cleaning out Azriel's cum straight from inside you, driving you absolutely insane in the process.

“Fuck,” you hear the whispered curse come from the shadowsinger's, the chair squeaking as he leans back, likely feeling the same frenzy you did watching the High Lord eating his cum right out of your cunt.

From the first moment Rhysand walked into the room, you knew there had to have been more going on between the two that you had ever suspected, but you hadn't expected this. He was eating you like you were his favorite meal, moaning out in pleasure all the while. You had no doubts Rhysand wanted you, the fact was clear in his blown out eyes as he watched you throughout the night, but you don't think he wants Azriel any less, even though you were willing to bet he has already had him before.

The sloppy sounds echoing around the room would have probably embarrassed you in any other situation, had it been anyone else in the room. Your scents had mixed so thoroughly, there was no way to know where either of you began or ended. There were tears spilling from your eyes at the intense feelings wrecking through your body. Azriel had already made you cum so many times, you were too sensitive, but somehow still craving more.

A sudden movement makes you focus on the ceiling through blurry eyes, noting the way Azriel's shadows swirled around the dark painted wall, spying on you and Rhysand. If either of you were in the right state of mind, you would have noticed the way Azriel's breath came out in short pants, hand finding his way onto his already hardening cock as his shadows explained everything to him down to every sordid detail - the way your body trembles under Rhys' skilled tongue, white knuckled as you desperately tried to cling to your sanity; the delighted sounds escaping Rhys as he dove deeper and deeper inside you, cleaning you out of the shadowsinger's essence.

In the midst of the mind numbing pleasure, you hear a familiar voice whispering right inside your head, unwilling to tear himself away long enough to say the words out loud. Tell me when you're close, darling. He had never spoken straight into your mind before, and the feeling of his voice echoing in your mind mixed with the way he was already devouring your cunt, almost makes you cum right then and there.

Your hips were stuck between grinding onto his face and arching back, your own body not sure if it could handle everything Rhysand was giving you. It was all too much, the feeling of his warm tongue licking and sucking at your abused walls, the thumb oh so softly petting your clit, only giving it enough pressure, the heavy breaths coming from Azriel who was now watching you, their scents heavy in the air, their power thrumming through the room.

“I'm close,” you pant, eyes closing as your hand falls to play with his soft hair, “So, so close.”

He hums in response, lulling you into a fake sense of security before pulling away unexpectedly, right as you were about to fall into ecstasy. You let out a noise between a whine and a sob, gripping his hair harder, trying to guide him back to where you needed him. If they kept pushing away from you like this, you'd just push them onto the mattress and ride them to your heart's content.

“Bastard.”

Rhysand simply chuckles down at you, a cruel curve to his smirk, pulling your hand away from his hair far too easily given the death grip you had on the strands, even licking the palm up until the space between your fingers teasingly before letting go of it. He comes down to kiss you, silencing your cries and whatever nasty insult was following with his mouth, putting most of his weight on you to keep you melting into him.

You bite his lip vindictively, nails carving his skin, prompting yet another laugh out of him, infinitely amused by your temper. The taste of copper fills your mouth, intertwining with his and Azriel's tastes perfectly, neither of you stopping your assault as your tongues battled for dominance.

When he finally pulls away, both of your chests moving rapidly, the exact spot where your canines have pierced through were still visible on the plush skin of his lips, blood barely trickling down as his healing moved to tamper it down. Gods, blood looked good on him.

“Is this any way to treat your High Lord?” he questions, licking his wounded lip.

“You're not my High Lord,” you whisper back defiantly.

“I am for as long as you're in my court,” he starts, one of his hands running along your skin until he finds one of your breasts, thumb circling your nipple, your body treacherously arching into his touch, delighting him to no end. “Especially when you're in my bed.”

“I'm not sure how my High Lord would feel about that.”

Rhysand tilts his head to the side, eyebrow raising as a strangely possessive look falling over his eyes. “I can always send you back to him with my cum inside you,” hand abandoning your chest with one pinch to your sensitive nipple, “see what he thinks about it.”

“I think you mean your Spymaster's cum,” you say, mirroring his smirk when his breath hitches just a touch.

“Cleaned that all out, darling” the way he clenched his jaw told you his patience was close to snapping, and oh did you want to see it happen.

“He was so deep inside me,” your hand falls over your stomach as if demonstrating him, “I'm sure there's still some of it left.”

“You weren't this mouthy with Azriel.”

“I was too busy getting fucked to talk back.”

You're not sure if it was your words or the chuckle Azriel lets out that does it, but Rhysand lets out a growl, a deliciously powerful sound that echoes throughout the room, and makes you tremble in anticipation. His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, baring his teeth when you open your mouth to tease him once more, and flipping you over on your stomach before you manage to get the words out.

“Then let's keep that pretty mouth screaming my name instead.”

The High Lord is always so calm and collected, never losing his composure in front of anyone, but here he was, losing his control all because of you. He grabs your hips, lifting them up enough to place a couple of pillows under you, keeping your body raised at the right angle. You feel his palms fall over your asscheeks, spreading them apart, exposing you to him completely.

Pushing up on your elbows, you try to keep yourself up and turn your head around as far back as you can to see what he's up to, finding him dropping a string of saliva right onto your cunt. He meets your gaze right as it falls, its warmth dripping over you, before looking back down, grabbing hold of his aching cock and lining himself up, wasting no more time as he bottoms out in one single stroke of his hips.

Your forehead falls against the mattress, a broken moan escaping you at the suddenness, almost no sound coming out as if he had taken the air right out of your lungs. He doesn't give you any time to adjust either, grabbing your hips in a tight grip and thrusting into you at a reckless, punishing pace.

“Rhysand,” you moan loudly, just like he wanted you to. Rhys, he corrects in your mind. “Rhys,” you repeat, holding onto the sheets, “please don't stop.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

The sounds filling the room are downright filthy as he fucks into you. If you knew this would be the result, you would have started taunting him back a lot sooner. You're playing with fire, darling. You can't help but choke out a laugh between the pathetic moans escaping your lips, resulting in a particularly hard thrust from him, though you can almost feel that familiar smirk returning to his face.

That might have been the only downside to this: you couldn't look at him as he fucked you, couldn't see the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as your walls gripped his cock. You're not exactly sure if he read your thoughts again, but he slows down just enough to lean down over you, caging your body under his, his entire torso pressed against your back as he continues his assault in deep, hard thrusts.

You try to match the rhythm of his hips, arching your back into him to the best of your ability, chasing what could very well be your strongest orgasm yet. His muscles moved against you, tensing when you squeezed too hard around him involuntarily, one of his hands grabs yours, intertwining your fingers together, as his forehead falls against your shoulder.

“I'm so close, Rhys,” you choke out, feeling that knot getting impossibly tighter, threatening to completely wreck you when it snapped.

“You can let go, darling,” he pants, “I'm right there with you.”

It's hard to say if Rhys had been the one to search for Azriel's mind or if the spymaster had the idea on his own, but an image is projected onto the High Lord's mind in that moment, one that has him letting out a deep groan, sharp teeth finding your shoulder, hips faltering as he tries not to cum right then. He shares it with you as soon as he catches himself, the image of Rhysand fucking into you from Azriel's perspective filling your mind, a whiny moan leaving your lips.

You could barely see yourself under the High Lord's strong body, the way his back arched and his muscles moved with every thrust taking your breath away. Azriel was clearly focused on the way Rhysand's cock barely pulled out from you, only ever coming out until about halfway before slamming back in, pulling out otherwise pathetic sounds out of you. You could see the way your hole stretched to accommodate his thick length, thicker than you've ever had, clamping down on him viciously.

Apparently you had been right to assume there was still some of Azriel's cum inside you as it now formed a ring around Rhysand's cock mixing in with your own juices, the excess spilling down your cunt and dripping onto the sheets, covering your thighs and his, coating his balls.

As sinful as the sight was, what pushed both you and Rhysand over the edge were Azriel's unfiltered thoughts accompanying it and the desire that could be felt through them. You could tell just how much he was enjoying the show, eyes transfixed on the way your bodies moved together, stuck between wanting to keep watching, and wanting to join you, slip his cock right into your inviting mouth, muffle the sounds echoing around the room, or come up behind you, the arch of Rhysand's back would make it so easy to just slide right into his High Lord, fucking him as he fucked you.

Your entire mind goes blank when your orgasm reaches you, losing sense of your surroundings as you're pulled under. Rhys falls over your body, barely catching himself before crushing you with his weight. It takes a while before you actually feel like you can breathe or focus on anything at all, almost purring as the first thing you feel is Rhys' leaving soothing kisses over your skin, murmuring praises as he moves.

Turning your head you try to find his lips, failing as the angle works against you. A sigh escapes you when he pecks your cheek, pulling out of you with a wince, body trembling at the oversensitivity, and flips you over carefully letting you kiss him to your heart's content, molding your bodies together until you can't see where one begins and the other ends.

After a few moments, Rhys holds onto you, lifting you up with him as he sits up on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, your mouth running down his neck, marking the perfect skin and reveling in the soft sounds he rewards you with, his hands massaging your spent body tenderly.

“It seems we have a problem, darling,” he says, voice hoarse. You move your head away from his collarbone, looking up at him to find him watching something behind you - Azriel. The hunger written on his face tells you the night is far from being over, you swear you could feel him getting harder against your thigh.

You hadn't paid enough attention to Azriel in a while, too distracted with the mind numbing pleasure the High Lord was giving you. Turning your head around to see what that problem was exactly, you almost let out a moan at the sight. Azriel was still sitting on the same chair Rhysand had been before him, face leaning on his elbow as he held his High Lord's gaze. He was sitting with his legs spread out, long, hard cock standing proudly against his abs, a bit of precum wetting the skin. You can't help but swallow when his hazel eyes fall on you, clenching around nothing as Rhysand speaks up once more, desire hanging over every word.

“Can't leave him like that, can we?”

An idea for the text threads: what if the other forgot an important date (anniversary, birthday, graduation or smth)?

acotar men x reader, forgetting your anniversary

summary: they forgot your anniversary

warnings: very light angst

amara’s note: i just couldn’t include the girls, i’m sorry but i can’t imagine them ever forgetting and i love them too much for angst. and i folded for eris, sorry:(

HEY

So, I haven't been writing at all, or updating. And I apologize for that! I have just been in a place of depression, and just haven't felt great all together. But! I'm feeling a little bit like me, and I can start writing and updating! But I've also started thinking of writing oneshots about book characters to get me back in the writing spirit. The book characters include:

Rhysand

Azriel

Cassian

Eris Vanserra

Lucien

Helion

Feyre Archeron

Nesta Archeron

Mor

Aaron Warner

Kenji Kishimoto

Dante Russo

Kai Young

Christian Harper

Rhys Larsen

Alex Volkov

Percy Jackson

Luke Castellan

Xaden Riorson

Jacks, Prince of Hearts

Grayson Hawthorne

Jameson Hawthorne

Draco Malfoy

Peeta Mellark

Cardan Greenbriar

And many more! So... What do you think? I will be starting with Azriel first! Just because, why not?

REQUESTS

I put up the board for my requests, you all should see it on my page. So for anyone who wants to request anyone from the list you can tell me and I’ll deliver! It just might take me a while to get into my writing again.