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insphoeration · 4 months ago

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I’m simple, even if I don’t bias the idol, if starlightkun posts, I’m eating it up.

❧ word count: 12.2k ❧ warnings: cursing, they go kinda skinny dipping at one point (wearing underwear) ❧ genre: fluff, a little suggestive, modern magical creatures/fantasy au, college au if you squint, summer camp au, dryad jaemin, human reader, camp counselors jaemin & reader, same universe as strawberry sunday ❧ extra info: this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday but can be read as a standalone! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe, they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: ah it feels so good to be returning to the strawberry sunday universe after so long! everyone blame thank lottie for not letting me forget abt dryad jaemin. i wasn’t sure abt posting a summer camp fic in february but it seems like the people wanted it, so i hope it warms y’all up (unless it’s actually summer for you rn, then i’m right on time 😎)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

You learned three things about Na Jaemin on your first day:

One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.

Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.

And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.

WEEK ONE

It was way too fucking hot out. From the rough directions you were given by the camp director, you were pretty sure this path led out to the river. Fuck it, you might wade out a little while you were here in order to not overheat and die. No fucking way you were going to haunt this place forever in the event you became ghost.

Despite your pessimistic thoughts as you trudged along the forest trail, you were actually very excited. Today was the first day of your month-long stint as a counselor at Camp Pineleaf. You were an education major at the university in the city, and had been recommended to the gig by one of your professors. One interview with the camp director later, and you’d been hired on the spot. You were part of the set-up crew, responsible for getting to camp early to get the camp set up and welcome the kids when they arrived. The other half of the staff were riding over from the drop-off point with the campers. So here you were, walking the perimeter to make sure all of the off-season markers had been taken down.

The camp was a small part of a nature preserve, and the rangers designated the different areas to visitors by colored markers on trails and trees. When the camp was closed in the off-season, the river that it bordered was open to visitors, so the flag markers on that border would be blue. But now that the camp was open, the blue ones should’ve all been replaced with bright orange flags. You just had to keep an eye out for any remaining blue flags, or for anything else that could be awry.

You knew you were getting closer to the river when you could hear running water, and the air around you started feeling less heavy and a lot fresher. The trail under your feet turned sandy as you finally emerged from the trees onto a shoreline by the river.

You immediately froze, though, not expecting to see somebody else at the riverside. It was a man pulling himself up out of the river onto a rocky formation. He was shirtless, his biceps, shoulders, and all other sorts of muscles flexing along with his motions. His eyes were closed as he shook his wet hair out, then pushed the damp locks back from his face with both of his hands. The sunlight made him look like he was glowing, every drop of water that ran down his body sparkling like a jewel, and you couldn’t make yourself look away.

He looked like he’d been sculpted by the gods. Which you supposed he had, or one in particular at least, you realized, as his eyes opened and settled on you as if he’d known you were there the whole time. They were the color of ferns, but shifted to a lighter mossy green under the dappling of the sunlight. Dryad. Son of Pan. Or so the legends go.

“Hi?” Despite his voice pitching up to make the greeting sound like a question, the wide, cocky smile on his face told you that he definitely knew that you’d been stood there ogling him for an embarrassing amount of time.

“Sorry!” You cringed at the sound of your own voice. “I didn’t realize there was anybody out here.”

The dryad started picking his way down the rocks towards you carefully, grabbing something off one of them as he went. A neon yellow shirt. When he finally dropped onto the ground a few feet in front of you, he gave the shirt a twist to wring out a few drops of water.

“I’m Jaemin,” he said, gripping the shirt even tighter and giving it another twist for good measure. You pretended like you didn’t notice the veins in his hands or the way his forearms tautened with the motion. He shook out the shirt to show you the logo on the front of it, a smiling evergreen tree that matched yours. “I’m also a counselor at Camp Pineleaf this year. We must’ve gone to different training sessions, huh? Anyway, I was walking the perimeter before the kids got here and I kind of—”

Jaemin stopped, a sheepish sort of look coming to his face as he ducked his head almost in embarrassment.

You looked around in confusion. “You what?”

“I fell in the river.”

“You fell in?” You stared at him. You couldn’t tell if he was messing with you or not. What kind of dryad—

“I know, what kind of dryad is falling in rivers?” He pulled the shirt on over his head, which you could now see he had cut the sleeves off of. “Aren’t we supposed to be connected to nature and all that? I still don’t know how it happened, one second I was just climbing the rocks and surveying the river, next thing I knew, I was in the river. Then you showed up.”

Clumsy dryad. That was a new one.

“I’m Y/N.” Introducing yourself was only fair since he’d already given you his name. “Seems like we’re head counselors of the Swallowtails this year, Jaemin.”

It was then that he seemed to notice the matching colors of your shirts, and his features lit up in recognition. “Hey, looks like it!”

You checked your watch. “We should be getting back, the kids are going to be arriving soon.”

“Right!”

“Besides, if I have to stay out here any longer, I’m going to pass out from heat exhaustion.” You groaned, pulling the front of your shirt off from where it had stuck to your skin, using it to fan yourself. “And there’s no way I’m dying out here and risking getting my ghost stuck in the middle of nowhere for forever instead of somewhere cool.”

Jaemin suddenly had a look of alarm on his face, and you looked around with an eyebrow raised.

“What? Something I said?”

“No, sorry, thought I heard something,” he shook his head. “It was just a vole. Lead the way.”

You hadn’t heard anything other than the usual forest sounds, but chalked it up to superior magic hearing, and started back on the trail to the main camp.

“So, why did you come out here, Y/N?”

“Same as you, walking the perimeter.”

“And… I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but what are you?”

You looked at him curiously. “Can’t you tell? I’m a human.”

He blinked as if shaken from a trance. Then he offered you another heart-stopping smile. “Right, of course. Sorry about that. Must’ve hit my head when I fell in the river.”

“Must’ve…”

You learned three things about Na Jaemin on that first day:

One, he was a clumsy dryad—somehow, someway, those existed, and you were now stuck as lead co-counselors with one for the next month.

Two, he went to your college as well, Magical Ecology major, and worked at Camp Pineleaf every summer between spring and fall semesters.

And three, he was a dangerously smooth, sweet-talking, flirt. You’d have to be careful around him, for your own sake.

That third one you didn’t come to understand until the after-bed bonfire that all the lead counselors were holding on the shore of the river. With all of the campers tucked in and being watched over by your high schooler junior counselors, the grown-ups were doing their own first day celebrations and icebreakers, which included one or two bottles being passed around as you got to know each other. A lot of the staff had been there for previous summers like Jaemin, but there were a few newbies like you.

It had been someone’s bright idea—Yeeun, a fairy, one of the lead counselors of the Bluejays—to do Truth or Dare to loosen everybody up, instead of like, just some more campfire songs or something. The guitar was forgotten by Jaemin’s feet in favor of this game, and you had survived your first couple rounds just on Truth—it wasn’t really your prerogative to embarrass yourself in front of your new coworkers on your first day.

It had just been Chanyeol’s turn (the Assistant Director, mind you, was even participating), and the werewolf let out a long, low burp as he held the bottle out for somebody to take. His truth had to been to admit why some counselor from last year had gotten fired—it apparently was the hottest piece of camp gossip last summer that nobody could figure out until now (it turns out the guy was drinking on the job, which you didn’t miss the irony in right now).

Jaemin took the bottle from him happily, tipping back his head to take a sip.

“You only have to drink if you don’t do your turn, Jaemin. Remember?” You nudged him with your left knee. He was not going to be a very helpful co-counselor tomorrow if he was hungover and miserable.

“I know,” he grinned.

“Alright, Jaemin, Tr—”

“Dare!” He declared, cutting off Chanyeol as the werewolf went to ask him the routine question.

Your coworkers all rubbed their chins thoughtfully. Yeri suddenly let out a dramatic gasp, as if she’d just been struck by the best idea ever.

“I dare you to pass the bottle to the prettiest girl in the circle,” she declared smugly.

“That’s it?” Jaemin arched a brow.

“She’s so wasted,” Sooyoung scoffed under her breath, but nonetheless, the siren brushed some stray hair and rose petals out of the dryad's face as she teetered in place.

“What? You want something more racy?” Chanyeol snickered. “Unfortunately, I am still kind of your boss, and while I will sanction this, I draw the line at daring anybody to do anything sexually promiscuous, alright?”

“I don’t mean like that, necessarily,” the dryad shrugged. “But it’s a bit tame, doesn’t tell you much. Why not the person that I want to kiss the most? Or, that I want to—”

“Jaemin.”

“Alright, alright,” he sighed dramatically, holding up the bottle straight out with one arm and drawing back his other to aim it around the circle like a bow and arrow.

“You better not hand me that nasty fucking thing, Na Jaemin,” Yeeun practically growled, crossing her arms over her chest.

“In your wildest dreams,” he scoffed, jutting his arm to the right at last. You turned your head that way, trying to figure out who he was handing it to. You were at the end of this log bench, and the next person in that direction was Eunseok, a gryphon and newbie like you.

“Y/N,” Jaemin pushed the bottle against your knee.

You took it and whispered, “Right, and who am I handing this to?”

“Nobody, gorgeous,” he whispered back, shooting you a wink.

Your hands were suddenly sweaty where they were wrapped around the neck of the bottle, and you could feel everybody’s eyes on you. With your gaze fixated on your lap, you coughed out a, “Oh, okay.”

“Alright, Y/N!” Chanyeol announced dramatically over the titters that had erupted around the fire. “Truth or dare?”

You took a swig of the drink to steel your nerves, trying not to think about how Jaemin’s mouth had just been on the same bottle—and everybody else’s, but that didn’t really matter to you as much in the moment. “Truth.”

Jaemin leaned in towards you, and you were suddenly wrapped in the contrasting smells of pine and roses as he dropped his voice, his mouth hovering right by your ear. “Are you—”

The sound of footsteps running up towards the campfire distracted you from whatever Jaemin was about to ask, and you whipped around to see Ningning, your junior counselor, heading right for you.

“Y/N!” She skidded to a stop on the other side of your log, clearly out of breath from the run down from the cabins to the riverbank.

“Ningning, is everything alright?” You asked the breathless witch.

“They’re crying and asking for their parents. I tried to—I can’t calm them down. I’m sorry, can you please—”

“Yeah, of course.” You put the bottle down in the sand, standing up and gesturing for the girl to lead the way back.

“You look exhausted,” Jaemin declared, setting a cup of coffee down in front of you at the dining hall the next morning.

“I am,” you sighed, rubbing the back of the little witch girl who had finally cried herself to sleep an hour before wake-up this morning. She was still passed out on your lap, and you wished you could be that dead to the world too. “Finally got this one asleep about an hour before wake-up.”

“Oof, an all-nighter,” he nodded sympathetically. “Wanted Mommy and Daddy?”

“First time outside her coven.” You took a sip of the coffee, delighted to find that he had somehow already made it to your exact preferences. “Two creams and three sugars…? How did you know?”

The dryad shrugged, “Something sweet for someone sweet, right?”

“How do you know I’m sweet?” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “I could be the biggest ass— jerk you’ve ever met.” You winced at yourself nearly forgetting the child in your lap.

“Something tells me you’re not the biggest assjerk I’ve ever met,” he snickered quietly. “You’re up against stiff competition in that department, anyway.”

“What sort of people have you met, Jaemin?”

“Curious about me, beautiful?”

“I think I’m allowed some natural curiosity about my co-lead counselor, yes.”

“Ouch, I’ve been co-lead counselor-zoned.”

“What other sort of zone were you hoping to be in?” You snorted, taking another long sip of your coffee, not expecting an actual answer to that.

“I think you have a pretty good idea, gorgeous,” he grinned. “Anyway, I’ll fix you a plate for breakfast so you don’t have to disturb your little friend.”

“Wait,” you stopped him as he went to walk away, craning your neck to try to see the buffet line. “What do they have?”

“I think I know what to get you,” he declared confidently.

Jaemin did in fact come back with all of your favorite breakfast foods loaded up on a plate, which only made you even more suspicious as you dug in. All your other campers and junior counselors were sitting at the table with you two, though, so you couldn’t interrogate him about it.

This morning, the Swallowtails were going on a nature walk, and you were more than happy to let Jaemin and his junior counselor, another dryad named Sohee, take the lead on that.

It was cool enough in the morning shade that you didn’t feel the need to throw yourself in the river this time. Ningning stayed in the middle of the group with some of the girls, and you brought up the rear, holding hands with your new best friend, Soongie. The little girl that you had consoled all night had not left your side since, nor said a word, which was honestly fine by you.

Jaemin had stopped everybody to explain something about the importance of all of nature working together, and how even all of you in this group were part of nature too—a fine message, by all means—but a little chittering in the treetops above you caught your attention, and you looked up to see some kind of light reddish-brown critter running across tree branches. Another ran after it, and you were pretty sure those weren’t squirrels, but you swear you hadn’t ever seen anything like it.

“In addition to those birds we had seen earlier, you’ll also see a lot of animals like squirrels and frogs up in the trees too.” Jaemin had apparently gone back to lecturing about the wildlife again while you were distracted. “There’s actually something special about this park, does anybody know what it is?”

Sohee raised his hand, which made you and the kids giggle as Jaemin looked at him disapprovingly.

“Not you, Sohee.” Your co-counselor shook his head. “Anybody else?”

Everybody looked around at each other, shaking their heads and giving various ‘no’s in response.

“There is actually a species of chipmunk that can only be found in this park. It likes the area around the river the most, and you’ll know you’ve seen it because it has reddish fur, and white front paws.”

You tilted your head back up at the trees, squinting your eyes as the creatures ran back out again, then paused overhead. And you swore you saw white paws.

“I think Y/N has already spotted some!” Jaemin announced, startling you.

As the kids all started crowding around you and clambering to try to get a good look at the animals, while you were looking dead at the older dryad, wondering how he knew exactly what you were looking at. He easily met your gaze, tilting his head and smiling.

After lunch, your team was in the arts and crafts cabin. There were multiple stations of different crafts set up, and you were helping Soongie with the friendship bracelets and necklaces. You hummed to yourself as you carefully selected your beads, arranging and rearranging them on table in front of you.

Soongie tugged on your sleeve, and you looked at her attentively. She held her nearly finished bracelet up, tapping the two ends together indicatively.

“Do you need it tied together?” You questioned.

She nodded.

You gingerly took the bracelet from her, tying it up and handing it back. “There you go, Soongie.”

The little witch grabbed your arm, and you let her pull the bracelet onto your wrist with only minor difficulties. She patted your hand, seeming satisfied with herself.

“Oh, is it for me?” You asked, wanting to clarify in case she only wanted you to model it or test the size for an adult back home.

She nodded again, turning back to start picking out more beads.

“Thank you,” you beamed, patting her head appreciatively.

“Miss Y/N, can you help me tie this please?” Another camper requested from further down the table.

“Of course.” You set your materials down, standing up to walk around to where he was sitting. “Here, I’ll do it with you so you can practice.”

Guiding his hands through tying the knot on his elastic string, the two of you finally got it. You gave it one last tug to make sure it was secure, then he put his bracelet on.

“Thank you!” He chirped, jumping up from his seat. “I’m gonna show Mister Jaemin!”

He darted off across the cabin to the craft table that your co-counselor was at, and you took the opportunity to walk around your table and check on the campers while you were already up. Continuing to hum quietly to yourself, you whipped around with alarm when you heard Jaemin start singing. Not just because he was singing, his voice was perfectly pleasant, a lovely tenor, actually. But because he was singing the same song that you had been humming, joining in exactly where you were. You were not loud enough for anybody at even the next table over to have heard you, much less him on the other side of the noisy cabin. Dryads didn’t have exceptionally acute hearing like some other creatures such as vampires, they were only attuned to the sounds of nature, e.g., the vole he had apparently heard by the river yesterday.

Jaemin was showing the camper you had just assisted the accompanying dance to the song. It was a song that you had learned when you were a kid at your own summer camp, which was why it had come to your mind now. A few other campers abandoned their crafts to join Jaemin in learning the dance, immensely focused.

The dryad’s eyes shifted from monitoring their footwork to you. He stopped singing to call out to you, “Do you know this one, Y/N?”

You swallowed to wet your parched throat before answering. “Y-Yeah, I learned it at camp when I was a kid.”

“Remember the dance?” He asked with a grin.

“I mean, I don’t know, it’s been so long…” As you hesitated, a chorus of insistent cries erupted around you from the campers, begging you to join in. “Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can remember.”

You walked over to the open space that Jaemin and the kids had gathered in, followed by cheers.

“From the top?” Jaemin suggested, a twinkle in his green eyes.

The next day, Jaemin sidled up to you in the buffet line at dinner. “Hey.”

“Hey.” You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, helping Soongie on your other side, who couldn’t quite reach some of the food options.

“I’d skip the gravy surprise if I were you.”

“I was about to tell you that,” you quipped back, depositing a heaping serving of smiley fries onto Soongie’s tray, then yours. “It looks alive and artificial at the same time somehow.”

“A modern miracle, truly.”

The both of you snickered as the line moved up. Jaemin loaded up his own helping of fries. Soongie pointed enthusiastically at the honeydew melon, and you scooped that out for her too.

“I wanted to ask…” Jaemin leaned in to murmur by your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You didn’t flinch away though, intrigued by whatever he felt the need to whisper to you in the loud mess hall. He continued in his low voice, “Will you meet me tonight? Thirty minutes after lights out?”

You inhaled, which was a mistake as you sucked down the smell of pine and roses, and the line scooted up while you were still frozen. Quickly, you nodded and choked out a quiet ‘okay’ before catching up with Soongie. Jaemin smoothly followed after you, engaging one of the counselors across the buffet from you in light-hearted conversation.

After lights-out, you laid awake, staring up at the ceiling of the cabin, listening to the hushed whispers of the girls fade into soft breathing and the occasional snore. You checked the time on your watch every two minutes, and it was only when you had five minutes left until your promised time to meet Jaemin that you realized he hadn’t told you where to meet him, and you’d been far too flustered to ask. You didn’t want to cluelessly wander the campground after dark, not only for fear of being caught by administration, but also because you didn’t know what was out at night. You were here because you were an education major, not because you were exactly a hardcore nature enthusiast.

Finally, with just a minute to go, you peeled your covers off as silently as possible, slipping your hiking boots back on. Lord knows what Jaemin had in mind. Your bed was by the entrance anyway as a safety precaution, so it was easy to get to the front door and slip out. You took your phone and the cabin pass with you from next to the door, just in case. Your phone, so that people could still get in contact with you, and the cabin pass so if Ningning woke up in the middle night and saw you were gone, she would think you were using the bathroom or something.

Outside your cabin, you didn’t immediately see Jaemin. You decided that if you didn’t find him in five minutes, you’d head back. Whatever this was, was not worth losing your job, or your girls’ safety, or yours, for that matter. You’d hardly turned away from the girls’ cabins towards the center of camp when you saw him strolling down the walkways from the direction of the boys’ cabins. Speak of the dryad.

Halting your search, you waited for him to approach you instead. He was wearing what looked to be his pajamas as well, sweatpants and a tank top, and his slides smacked against his heels with every step.

Jaemin stopped in front of you, not bothering to hide that he was eyeing you from head to toe. He had that same easy-going smile as always as he assessed, “Hiking boots and pjs. Cute.”

You suddenly felt too exposed in your sleep shorts. “Oh, shut it.”

“I meant it. You’re cute.” He was leaning down to peer at your shirt closely now. “It’s dark, I can’t see—Who’s on your shirt?”

“My eyes are up here, you know,” you jested, crossing your arms.

“Ooh, a bit hypocritical, hm?”

“I was startled—”

“Yeah, when I’m startled, I also make a cartoon ‘awooga’ sound—”

“Oh shut—!” You smacked his arm, not intending for the sound to echo so loudly in the quiet area. Your heart leapt to your throat, and you rushed to cover your mouth with two hands, hushing your gasp.

Jaemin, meanwhile, was grabbing the area you’d hit while he keeled over, his whole body shaking with silent laughter.

When administration hadn’t come swooping in after a few beats, you shook your head at the still-laughing figure of Na Jaemin. Pivoting around on your heel, you had the full intention of heading back to your cabin. Just a step away, and his hand shot out to grab yours. It was a light grip, you could shake him off and leave if you wanted, but you stopped anyway.

Still with your back turned, you waited for him to catch his breath and say something.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, still with a hint of a smirk in his voice. “Can I still show you something?”

Unfortunately, your interest was piqued. You turned around, narrowing your eyes at him—he was smirking. “Show me what?”

Whatever Jaemin wanted to show you, it was deep in the forest, on a trail that was closed off from camp. Now you were glad that you’d worn your hiking boots, despite his earlier teases. The trail clearly hadn’t been used in a few years, overgrown with plants so it only fit one person across. You kept your eyes on your feet, you didn’t want to risk tripping and injuring yourself and having to make up some story about how you sprained your ankle using the bathroom in the middle of the night. Embarrassing.

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked plainly.

Jaemin looked at you over his shoulder, teasing glint in his eye. “I’m a dryad, not a siren, Y/N.”

“We’re also not by water, so I didn’t think you were going to drown me,” you snorted.

“We’re almost there,” he said simply. “I think.”

“Do you know where we’re going?”

“Of course I do, I’m a dryad—”

“Thank you for reminding me, I almost forgot in the last twenty seconds.”

“—therefore, I have an intuitive connection to nature, okay? So I know it’s going to be right through these trees.”

You gave him a doubtful look, but stayed silent. He gestured ahead, and you watched as leaves and branches seemingly parted on their own, welcoming you through. You followed Jaemin under the passage that he’d made, the foliage closing up again behind you. You’d entered into a clearing illuminated by nothing but the stars. It was a new moon, but you found that you didn’t really need its light, as the stars shone brilliantly on a night this clear. The clearing was carpeted with soft clover and patches of wildflowers of all shapes and sizes.

“This used to be the archery range, when I was a camper,” Jaemin explained. “They moved it as the camp got bigger.”

“You came here when you were a kid?”

“Yep.” He picked a spot and sat down. “Chanyeol used to be junior counselor of my cabin.”

You smiled faintly as you sat in front of him. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He started picking clovers from the bottom of the stem, close to the ground. “You ever made a clover crown?”

“No.”

“I’ll show you how.”

As he walked you through the steps of weaving together a clover crown, you tried your best to follow along, but yours still ended up a weedy mess, falling apart in your hands. You sighed, letting the greenery drop through your fingers and back to the dirt.

“Here, use mine,” Jaemin offered patiently. “Sometimes starting is the hardest part.”

“No, Jaemin, it’s so pretty, I don’t want to mess it up,” you insisted.

“I’ve probably made thousands of clover crowns,” he reassured you, moving around to lower his hands over yours. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

You let out a deep breath, taking the partially-woven clovers from him. Jaemin stayed there just to guide you through the first few uncertain crossings of stems, then he sat down again next to you, gathering more materials to start another crown.

Keeping your eyes trained on your shaky fingers, you said, “I don’t get you, Na Jaemin.”

“Well you hardly know me,” he pointed out humorously. “But I feel like I’ve been straightforward with you. Is there anything specific you think is so mysterious about me?”

“That’s the problem.” You bit your cheek and paused as you focused on the clover crown for a second. Then, you continued, “You’re so upfront I feel like you’re hiding something. Like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“What? Because I’m being honest, that must mean I’m dishonest?”

“Yes, because people don’t just act like this, Jaemin!”

“Like what? Like they’re actually interested in somebody they want to know better?” He asked incredulously, eyes wide. “This can’t just be a human thing—Are you like, okay, Y/N?”

You felt tears welling up at the corner of your eyes, and once again dropped the clover crown to wipe at them. “Fuck—I guess not. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “I’m sorry too. We’re barely more than strangers, I let myself get caught up and I was pushy. I’ll take you back.”

The dryad stood up and offered you two hands to get up. Hanging from one of his elbows, you saw a completed clover crown. Curious, you pointed to it. “Can I see…?”

Jaemin obliged, shaking it from his elbow to his hand and offering it out to you. Still sitting in the same spot, you turned the crown around, admiring his delicate handiwork. It was more intricate than the version he had been showing you how to make, wildflowers woven together to make hearts or stars and then integrated into the design, and he’d finished it so quickly too.

You held the crown out for him to take back. “I still haven’t made a clover crown… If you want to stay.”

He brightened up. “Third time’s the charm.”

When your alarm woke you up in the morning, you were at least more well-rested than the first night, but not by much. Groaning and sitting up, you rubbed your eyes before opening them, eyes blearily trained on the floor. The first thing you saw was your hiking boots, your completed clover crown resting atop them. It ended up taking four tries for you to finally finish one, and it was messy and at risk of falling apart any second, but you were proud of it nevertheless. A fond smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you remembered when you had finally closed it off per Jaemin’s instructions, and smacked his arm with excitement, too afraid of even breathing. Instead of being offended at you hitting him again, he was as elated as you, somehow finding a million things to compliment about your ugly little clover crown.

WEEK 2

After your cabin’s wake-up routine this morning, you were back in the cafeteria. You didn’t bother looking for Jaemin, feeling pretty confident that the dryad would find you on his own. Sure enough, just a few minutes after you and Soongie had sat down, your co-counselor was standing at the end of your table, gesturing to the empty seat across from you.

“May I?” He asked.

“All yours,” you replied, cutting up Soongie’s pancake for her.

“We’re doing canoeing with the Bluejays this morning,” Jaemin reviewed your itinerary for the day.

A small hand grabbed your arm, and you looked over to see your little witch practically vibrating in her seat.

“Soongie’s excited,” you chuckled. “And then it’s free swim until lunch.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, finger following the schedule on his clipboard. “Then it’s us and the Barn Owls for free time until two-thirty. Then we’re going to archery also with the Barn Owls and the Tree Frogs, and tie dye before dinner. Oh, and a campfire after dinner tonight.”

“Will—”

“There will be s’mores at the campfire,” he said knowingly.

You smiled. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“You know, Soongie, you could help a little bit, sweet,” you chastised the girl fondly, being the only one actually paddling between the two of you.

The camper was sat ahead of you in your canoe, her paddle long forgotten on the floor as she looked around her in delighted wonder. You were far too endeared by her to really be upset, which she obviously knew, as she did nothing to assist. There was a small splish on the surface of the water to the left of the canoe, and Soongie gasped, immediately scooting to that side of her seat.

“Woah!” You grabbed the sides as the small canoe rocked with the shift in weight. “Careful, Soongie. I know you’re not very big, but remember what Miss Yujin said, we don’t want to—”

As you were talking, the little witch had been leaning further and further over the side of the canoe to try to get a better look at whatever had caught her attention before. Right as you had grabbed the back of her life jacket with the intention of scooting her back into the middle of her seat yourself, the canoe flipped entirely, sending the both of you into the water. You two popped up immediately thanks to your life jackets, underneath the shell of the overturned canoe.

Turning the girl around in your arms, you checked on her, “Are you okay, Soongie?”

She regarded you with wide, terrified eyes as she nodded hurriedly.

“Good, good. I’m not mad, sweet,” you reassured her, hugging her close. “It’s okay, now we know not to do that next time, right?”

She nodded again, slower this time.

Pulling away, you asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? You didn’t get hit by the canoe or anything?”

Another nod, more certain.

“Good, alright.” You let out a deep breath, looking around at the canoe over your heads. “Now, I need you to—”

A loud knocking on the outside of the canoe cut you off, and you let out a scream in surprise. The next second, a third person had joined you two under the canoe, surfacing behind you.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, wiping water out of his eyes.

“Other than the heart attack you just gave me and the canoe on top of us?” You scoffed. “Yeah, peachy, Jaemin.”

“You weren’t coming up, I was getting worried,” he frowned.

“We’re okay,” you said more sincerely this time. “Promise.”

“Okay, good.” He then pointed to his right. “You and Soongie go out and swim over there. I’ll flip the canoe back over the other way for you. Swim a good distance away, just in case.”

“Alright, thanks, Jaemin,” you smiled, patting his cheek fondly. Turning back to Soongie, you said, “I need you to close your eyes and hold your breath while we go underwater so we can get out. Can you do that for me, sweet?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, breathed in deep, and plugged her nose.

“I knew you could. Let’s go.” You grabbed her by the head, pushing her under at the same time you went down too. You kept your hand on top of her head both to keep her down against the buoyancy of her life vest and to act as a bumper in case she accidentally bonked the canoe on her way out.

Once you had surfaced, you pulled her with you as you paddled away from the canoe a fair distance. Scattered in the water around you were the oars and your shoes. You knew your sunglasses were long gone, lost to the bottom of the lake. A few seconds later, you saw one of Jaemin’s hands wrap around the edge of the canoe, then he slowly lifted the side facing you, breaking the seal with the water, before he heaved the canoe to his left, successfully flipping it rightside up. You heard distant cheers and applause from the dock, and looked over to see other campers standing there, bundled up in their own little life vests.

Swimming back over to Jaemin and the canoe with Soongie, you two also gave him a small round of applause above the surface of the water.

“Our hero,” you jested.

He grinned, holding onto the end of the canoe to keep it from floating away. “Well…”

“Y/N in first, that way you can help Soongie get in,” he explained.

“Okay, you wait here with Mister Jaemin for me,” you requested, passing her off to the dryad.

“Can you hold onto my shoulders Soongie?” He moved her around to his back, then made an exaggerated choking sound. “My shoulders, not my neck!”

Soongie giggled and changed the placement of her arms.

“Oh, thank Pan,” he breathed out in relief. “Alright, Y/N, up you go.”

You hauled yourself back into the canoe, then worked with Jaemin to hoist Soongie in as well. Finally, Jaemin pulled himself in too, shaking out his wet hair like a dog.

“Ah!” He sighed, pushing his hair back from his face, annoyingly handsome grin once again landing on you. “Well that was a successful rescue mission, huh?”

“Hate to burst your bubble, Jaemin, but uh, we don’t—”

“Have oars?” He finished your sentence, still grinning.

“Mhm.” You looked down into your empty, soaking wet canoe, then at the distant dock pointedly.

“Not a problem!” A vine shot out of Jaemin’s palm, splitting into two, each end grabbing a wayward oar and pulling them back up into the boat. He offered one out to you to take, and secured the other in his hand.

Soongie giggled and clapped, to which Jaemin bowed. “Ah, thank you, thank you.”

After free swim and free time, everyone had time to head back to their cabins and shower before going to archery. You only had a second to rinse the lake water off of you before changing and corralling your campers to archery.

The new archery range was bigger than the old one that Jaemin had taken you to, able to fit more targets than you were sure the other one could. As the two instructors began teaching the kids, the counselors hung back to make sure everyone was paying attention and served more as support during the lesson. God knew you had no clue how to shoot a bow and arrow.

“You know how to do this?” You murmured to Jaemin as you watched the instructor notch her first arrow.

“May have won a few ribbons back in my days as a camper,” he jokingly bragged. “Want a private lesson?”

You elbowed him lightly and shook your head, even as your heart skipped a beat. The instructor let her arrow fly then, easily hitting the bullseye. You clapped along with the campers, snickering, “I think maybe I should ask her instead.”

Whoever put tie-dye after free time was the bane of your existence, as there was no time for the girls to properly wash up before dinner. If tie-dye had been before free time, then they could’ve done it before showering. You and Ningning had your hands full helping them scrub dye off their hands, and your entire cabin ended up being late to dinner. Stomping into the mess hall with a gaggle of starving girls, you hurried them ahead of you towards the food line, wincing when you saw a few options empty or nearly empty already. Soongie hung back with you as always, joining you last in the line.

You made your two plates, and struggled to find empty seats in the packed mess hall. Thankfully, a hand shot up among the throng, waving you all over. Jaemin stood up so you could see him better, and you called for your girls, who were all looking around rather lost, to follow you over there. The dryad was instructing his campers to scoot around and make room, and finally, with some squeezing, everyone was able to fit. Jaemin let you scoot onto the bench seat ahead of him, and you still had to eat with Soongie on your lap and one of Jaemin’s legs sticking out into the aisle. His other leg was pressed against you, elbow bumping into yours as the two of you ate.

You tried not to glare at some of the other cabins who had made no attempts to accommodate you all, empty seats and plenty of room at their tables, some of the adults even propping up and spreading their legs out on the benches as they ate and chatted with each other.

“Just leave it, Y/N,” Jaemin murmured, nudging you with his arm. “Good example.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, thanks, Jaem.”

“Hard time washing out the tie dye?”

“Yeah. How’d you guys clean the dye off so fast?”

“Who says we cleaned the dye off?”

That made you look up from your food for the first time, carefully studying the hands and arms of the boy Swallowtail campers around you, seeing that they were in fact, splotched with every color of the rainbow. You burst into laughter, covering your face with your hand. “God—Is that going to come out before pick-up?”

“Yeah, a couple more dips in the lake, it’ll all be gone.”

“Work smarter, not harder, huh?”

Jaemin grinned. “Exactly.”

At the campfire, you helped your younger campers roast their marshmallows for their s’mores safely, while Jaemin and Chanyeol led the entire camp in sing-alongs. In a lull with your campers preoccupied with eating their s’mores, you quickly prepared one and brought it up towards the front. Chanyeol was tuning his guitar while he and Jaemin discussed which song to do next, and you tapped the dryad’s shoulder as you lowered the paper plate into his line of sight.

Jaemin looked up at you beaming, accepting the s’more. “Thanks, beautiful. How’d you know I wanted one?”

“I’m a mind reader,” you replied humorously, mussing up his hair before you headed back towards the Swallowtails’ benches.

“Ask her! Ask her!” Came excited, hushed whispers from behind you as you had just returned to your seat among all your campers.

Turning around, you spotted a gaggle of both girls and boys gathered behind you, and raised your eyebrow at them inquisitively. “Ask me what?”

“Miss Y/N?” One brave girl finally piped up. “Are you and Mister Jaemin boyfriend-girlfriend?”

You covered your mouth to not laugh directly at them, instead tilting your head at them curiously. “Why do you think that?”

“You just made him a s’more!” One said.

“And he rescued you and Soongie today!” Another added.

“And he always calls you beautiful and stuff!” Said another. “That’s what my dad calls my mom.”

“You can tell your friends that they’re beautiful,” you informed them dutifully. “I tell you girls that you’re beautiful, don’t I?”

They all looked at each other, obviously conflicted.

“You should always help somebody in need if you can, like Mister Jaemin did today when Soongie and I were canoeing,” you continued. “And how many s’mores have I made for all of you?”

They began murmuring among themselves at your very good points while you tried very hard to control your face. Technically, you and Jaemin weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. You were… something. And these children didn’t need to know all the (sparse) details of the nature of your relationship with Jaemin anyway.

Chanyeol had started strumming his guitar again, drawing everyone’s attention as the next song began.

WEEK 3

All outdoor activities had been canceled today because a huge storm had rolled in overnight. Rain pounded against the roof of the meeting center as lighting flashed and thunder boomed outside. The Swallowtails and Tree Frogs were in here for the first block of the day watching movies on a projector. The movie was occupying some of the kids while others quietly played cards in a corner, others napped, and the counselors hung out in the back of the room.

“You okay, Jaem?” You asked the dryad, bumping his shoulder with yours. “You’ve been… off since breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he reassured you, shifting his gaze from the dark grey skies outside over to you. His eyes were a deep forest green, so murky they almost blended in with his pupils. He tried to offer you a half-smile as he nudged your arm back. “It’s the weather. Dryads are sensitive to it. Mother Nature gets bummed out, so do we.”

You looked over at Sohee, noticing that the younger dryad was also less upbeat than usual, leaning against the wall and zoning out as he listened to the junior counselor from the Tree Frogs go on about something.

“I like the rain,” you tried to offer some positivity. “Good napping weather.”

Jaemin chuckled. “I’ve never been able to sleep well when the weather’s like this, but now that you mention it…”

“Big fuzzy blanket or two, the sound of the rain, oh it’s perfect.”

“Mm, I might be able to get on board with this.”

“I’m just afraid the kids aren’t going to be able to sleep tonight if they can’t get their energy out,” you sighed, already able to picture them bouncing off the walls come lights-out.

“Yeah, we’ll have to make them run laps in the gym after lunch so they’re not bouncing off the walls when it’s lights-out.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Speaking of lights-out…” He leaned in closer, resting his hand behind you and letting the smell of pine and roses entirely wrap around you. His lips ghosted against the shell of your ear as he requested, “If the rain lets up by then, will you meet me again? After lights-out?”

You turned your head to whisper back, “To do what?”

“It’s a surprise. Is that a yes?”

You hummed, pretending to think it over. Finally, you answered, “Yes.”

In the middle of dinner, the rain finally stopped, and you pretended not to react, even as the entire cafeteria erupted into cheers. Jaemin tapped your foot under the table with his. You kicked his back as you lifted your smiley fry to your mouth.

After putting your girls to bed, you once again waited thirty minutes before putting your hiking boots on and slipping out of your cabin. Jaemin was exactly where you had found him last time, blinding grin visible even this late at night. He had a couple towels tossed over his shoulder, but was otherwise in the exact same clothes as last time.

“So where are we headed?” You asked, looping your arm with his.

“Somewhere special,” he replied vaguely. “The rain should’ve made it perfect.”

You squinted at him, but didn’t press for more information. As soon as he turned off the main path, you realized he was heading towards the river but taking an unfamiliar route along it. He was heading towards a part that the camp didn’t use in their regular activities. You heard the rushing water before you spotted it, and when you emerged from the treeline, you could see a waterfall. Not huge, but without the extra rainfall from today, this area probably wouldn’t have been more than a trickle.

“Perfect,” Jaemin declared, stopping by a rock further from the water’s edge. This one was dry, safe from the spray of the waterfall. He set the towels down before toeing his shoes off, and you already knew what he was going to do.

“Isn’t it going to be cold?” You asked knowingly, despite taking your boots off too.

“Probably.” He pulled his tank top off before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re behind.”

“You’re pushy,” you teased back, yanking off your socks.

“Undress how you want, my apologies.” He put his palms together and bowed ninety degrees, making you giggle at the juxtaposition of the formal gesture while he was in nothing except his briefs.

Your shorts joined the pile too, but you left your sleep shirt on since you had nothing else on under it. Jaemin was already at the river’s edge, his back to you as he stood in the water up to his ankles.

“Is it cold?” You slowly picked your way closer to the water.

“Would you believe me if I said no?” He answered with a question.

“Try.”

“It’s like a hot tub.”

You clicked your tongue, “Nope, didn’t believe you for a second.”

“Can I look?” He still hadn’t turned around, even as you were just a couple steps behind him.

“No, Jaem, I want you to swim with your eyes closed all night.”

“I’d do it if you asked,” he jested back in a slightly sing-songy voice.

“I know you would.” You hugged your arms as you shook your head fondly. “You can turn around. With your eyes open.”

Jaemin turned around with his eyes squeezed shut first, then squinted them open one at a time, a soft grin spreading across his lips as his gaze didn’t trail anywhere other than your face. He offered his hand out, and you set yours atop it. Slowly, he pulled you towards him, and you braced yourself as you took the first step into the cold water. You let out an instinctive shiver at the chill zipping up through you.

“Hot tub, yeah,” you scoffed.

“It slopes down from here.” Jaemin started wading out in front of you, keeping his loose grip on your hand. You followed him, keeping an eye on how fast the water was rising up his legs to estimate the depth for yourself.

When the water was about waist-deep, you hissed at the temperature, squeezing his hand tighter. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand as he started guiding you towards the waterfall. “Come on.”

In the back of your mind, you wondered if you were going to get sick from this.

“If you catch a cold, I’ll nurse you back to health.”

“If you get sick, I’ll laugh,” you mimicked the way he cooed at you sweetly.

Jaemin stopped the two of you a little ways away from the bottom of the waterfall. He let go of your hand before walking forward, pausing right under where the water was pouring down, thoroughly drenching him. He let out a whoop presumably at the burst of cold. Poking his head out, he wiped the water from his eyes and looked at you expectantly. You sighed but went to join him, grabbing your shoulders tightly and gritting your teeth against the rush of cold water soaking the rest of you. A mix between a yelp and a laugh escaped you instinctively, and you heard Jaemin laughing past the sounds of crashing water. Admittedly, the chill served as a shock to your nervous system, thoroughly waking you up and making every inch of your skin tingle.

You ducked out of the waterfall, under the overhang of rock, wiping water off your face as you giggled. “Ah! Cold! Fucking cold!”

“It’s refreshing, right?” Jaemin asked with a grin.

“Kinda, yeah,” you admitted, putting your shoulders back under the waterfall. You held your arms out. “C’mere.”

He obliged, shuffling closer to you and letting you wrap your arms around his neck. As soon as you felt how warm his skin was, you pulled him even closer.

“You’re warm!” You gasped.

“I’m a dryad, gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering the two of you in the water. His hands landed on your knees, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and cling onto him even more. “Always the perfect temperature.”

“You’re really proud to be a dryad, hm?” You questioned, not a hint of sarcasm or taunting in your voice this time.

“Of course. I love everything about it, never wanted to be anything else. Sure, other things are more powerful, and plenty of dryads hate being sensitive to the weather, but I love it all.”

“Can you understand animals?” You knew that not all dryads could talk to animals, and those who could, would usually only be able to talk to a certain kind (birds, fish, reptiles, etc.).

“Small to medium land mammals. Anything bigger than a dog is usually a no-go.”

“What about a really big dog? Like a Great Dane? Or a Newfoundland?”

“Haven’t tried. When I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Do you have a favorite animal? Or is that like picking a favorite kid?”

He chuckled, and you could feel it against you. “I like cats.”

“Me too.”

After a beat, he asked, “Can I tell you something?”

“Can I stop you?”

“The first day of camp—”

“—when you fell in the river—”

“—when I fell in the river… I didn’t really fall in.”

You pulled back to be able to look him in the eye, nose scrunching up in confusion. “What? So you just… went swimming in your clothes for fun?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I was walking the perimeter, like I told you, and then suddenly I got this really strong urge to just jump in,” he explained. “One second, I was perfectly fine, enjoying the Sun, and then I thought to myself: ‘It’s too goddamn hot and if I overheat and die there is no way I’m going to let myself end up haunting this place for eternity.’ And the river was right there so I jumped in and cooled off. And then when you showed up, I figured it was better to look clumsy than like… well whatever that was.”

Dread had settled deep in the pit of your stomach, and your jaw dropped with mortification. “Jaemin, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I’m the one who made you jump in the river,” you confessed, pushing on his chest to get him to let you go and stand on your own again.

“What?” He tilted his head, obviously confused and caught between trying to decide if you were joking or serious, half a smile on his lips.

You turned away from him, covering your face in horror as everything suddenly dawned on you at once—way too late, you should’ve fucking known, it was so fucking obvious. “Not on purpose. God—”

Jaemin was surprisingly calm as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

“You know how we’re like… scarily in sync sometimes? Like it’s almost like you can read my thoughts?”

He grinned and chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “So you noticed, too? I mean—”

“It’s not great chemistry or anything. I’m literally accidentally putting my thoughts in your head,” you interrupted him, desperately trying to get across how seriously bad this whole thing was.

The cocky smirk dropped right off his face, and he turned curious and skeptical instead. “Wait, really? How?”

“My great-aunt called it something one time. A savvy,” you snapped your fingers as the word popped into your head. “Said that’s what they used to be called before all this modern-day science took over magic instead.”

“Savvy,” he repeated uncertainly.

“Yeah. Humans that could talk to plants and make them grow faster like dryads, or fly but just a couple inches off the ground, things like that,” you listed off a couple examples. “Her theory was that with integration, people didn’t find their savvies anymore because they were around all this extraordinary magic, there was no reason for their little pockets of it to ever make an appearance.”

“What’s your theory?”

“Kind of similar. I think the people with them might notice it, but we see all this incredible stuff every day, so if your plants are growing extra fast—hey, that was probably just the magical fertilizer you bought at the store, why would it be the fact that you were singing to your succulent? Magic is so ingrained into the fabric of our lives from outside sources, I don’t think we’d ever stop to notice if it ever started coming from inside us.”

“That’s so…”

“Sad? That humans would never stop to think that we had magic in us too?” You chuckled cynically.

Jaemin shook his head, brow furrowed as he obviously both deep in thought and deeply perturbed. “I was going to say, hard to imagine. I can’t imagine what it feels like not having magic in you.”

“You’re made of magic. I’m not.”

“Well that’s not true. You’ve got something. You’ve got a… savvy.” Jaemin smiled and pointed smugly. “It’s what confused me the first time we met.”

“Right.”

“So how did you find out?”

“According to my parents, I didn’t talk until I was almost four. I didn’t need to, they just somehow always knew what I wanted. Used to chalk it up to good body language. But the way that people always finished my thoughts before I did, and didn’t even realize they were doing it. I hated that. It felt like they were in my head.” You clutched your arms self-soothingly at the memories. “Until I got a little older and realized that actually, I was in their heads.”

“Do you know why? Why you?”

“We’re all human, my family, as far back as we can tell. Unless someone had an affair somewhere that we don’t know about but—” You shrugged. “I’m just a human, who can think and feel really hard, and things happen. And because someone said so, that’s magic. But if I lived with a bunch of humans—and not my great-aunt—I probably would’ve gone my whole life just believing that I was really good at conveying my thoughts. Or really shit at hiding them.”

“So you can… what, exactly?”

You knew what he was asking—magic powers all had names. So what was yours?

“I don’t know, project my thoughts? Still don’t have a good name for it,” you admitted with a dejected shrug. “I don’t do it on purpose, it just kind of happens. I can never choose which ones, or who gets them, I’ve just kind of figured that that it tends to happen with ones I’m more focused on. But not always.”

“So it wasn’t great chemistry, huh?” He joked, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Ah, sorry, Jaemin,” you said sheepishly, then tacked on, “But I can tell you, I’ve never had someone so… receptive to my thoughts before. Like, no one person has ever gotten so many in such a short amount of time. I don’t know why, or what it means, or if it even means anything. And I do feel the need to apologize, I imagine it’s clearly been… invasive.”

“For one, don’t apologize. You said you’re not doing it on purpose, and I can’t imagine what it must be like for you, always worrying about which of your thoughts someone is going to get, who’s going to get it, and if they’ll know it was you. Don’t also worry about apologizing to me just because I listen a little better than other people. If anything, I should be apologizing to you for eavesdropping.”

“You don’t need to—”

“Now you know how you sounded,” he replied pointedly.

“Damn.”

“Anyway, I think I know exactly why I’m more… receptive.”

You eyed him curiously. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m a dryad,” he reminded you for probably the hundredth time since you met him. “We’re in touch with nature, which includes humans, and their thoughts and feelings.”

“So it’s not our great chemistry?” You trepidly quipped.

“So you agree!” He lit up. “We do have great chemistry! Aside from the magical thought-sharing?”

“I think it’s including that?” You fidgeted with your fingernails. “Because despite everything I just told you, you’re not running away. Even though I literally made you jump in a river the first time we met. Or, before we ever met.”

“I think I’m starting to get better at telling what’s your idea and what’s mine,” he said confidently. “And you’re also not running away, despite the fact that you know that your thoughts are even more available to me than other people.”

You took a deep breath and nodded. “I trust you with them. You’re the first person that I’ve told who’s… really thought of it like that. That you’re listening in, instead of me forcing something into your brain.”

“Thank you. I’m honored.”

“So uhm, while we’re talking about the first day of camp… What were you going to ask me? At Truth or Dare?”

“Still thinking about that, gorgeous?”

“Apparently. Do you remember?”

“‘Are you thinking about kissing me, too?’” He stepped closer to you again. “Though, I think I know the answer now.”

You nodded, eyes glued to where a droplet of water raced from his hair down his forehead, over his browbone, his nose, and finally between his cupid’s bow into his parted lips.

“I know I can literally hear you thinking about what my lips feel like, and exactly where you want my hands on you…” One of said hands had caught the hem of your shirt floating in the water, gently tugging it back and forth. Jaemin leaned in closer, warm breath washing over your cheek as he held eye contact with his request, “But can I also hear you say it out loud? Just once, gorgeous?”

You immediately folded, grabbing his forearms as you pleaded, “Jaem, please. I want you to kiss me, I want you to—”

“I know, beautiful, I know,” he hushed you gently, cupping your cheek and sealing his mouth over yours. His other hand let go of your shirt hem to wrap around your waist and pull you closer. Your fingernails dug into the muscles of his forearm as you pressed against him, chasing more contact in any way possible. He alternated soft bites to your bottom lip and deep kisses that left you dizzy. The cold water didn’t even register anymore as you fell more and more into Na Jaemin.

Jaemin finally drew back, leaving you with a peck on the tip of your nose. He was still looking at you with an absolutely blindingly soft smile, cradling your face with two hands. You grabbed his cheeks, kissing his nose too.

“It’s only fair,” he snickered.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” you replied humorously, pushing your forehead against his.

The sky was a beautiful crystal clear blue the next morning, and you noticed the change in Jaemin’s mood before you even got to the mess hall for breakfast. Your cabins converged on the walkway there, and you spotted Jaemin at the front of his boys, giving one a piggy-back ride as four more chased them around the rest. Sohee was actually leading the gaggle of campers, laughing and joking along with the older dryad. Without you even calling out to him, Jaemin gently dropped his camper back to the ground before turning around and giving your group a big wave.

“Morning, girls!” He grinned.

“Morning, Mister Jaemin!” They said back in a loud chorus.

You just so happened to glance down to make sure you weren’t going to step on one of the kids’ heels when you noticed that Soongie’s sneaker was untied.

“Oh, hold on, sweet. Your shoelace.” You tugged on her hand to take her to the side, out of the crowd. Kneeling down, you dutifully double-knotted it. “There. Let’s go.”

You’d just started walking and brushing the dirt off your knee when your foot got jerked back by your own shoelace which had come untied and was subsequently caught under someone’s foot. Before your face or hands could impact with the concrete, however, something sturdy wrapped around your waist and caught you. You realized it was a thick, leafy vine at the same time that two hands grabbed your arms to stand you back up, and the vine unwound from around you.

“Woah, you alright?” It was Jaemin, of course, already checking your hands and arms over for injuries.

“Yeah, Jaem, I’m fine,” you smiled as he fidgeted with your beaded bracelet from Soongie. “Tied Soongie’s shoe and completely missed the fact that mine was untied too. Thanks for the save.”

He dutifully dropped to one knee to tie your shoe for you, and you wanted to be embarrassed at being treated like a child, but really, all you could think about was pulling him back up when he was done and kissing him.

“Not here, beautiful,” he grinned and winked at you.

You rolled your eyes and pushed his head away from you, but you knew it was all negated by your fond smile and thoughts.

WEEK 4

The Swallowtails were back in the arts and crafts cabin, and you were hard at work at the friendship bracelet station. You may have sucked at making clover crowns, but you weren’t half-bad at this, at least. Searching through the piles of beads, you secured a few more green and brown ones, as well as some in the shape of white daisies to add.

Jaemin was at the bead table too, and you pretended not to be interested in what he was making, even as he had not-very-quietly whispered to one of your girls sitting next to him asking if she knew what your favorite color was. The camper had told him with a giggle, some of the other campers pitching in with their opinions on whatever he was making throughout it. You acted like you hadn’t heard anything, looking up from your own craft only to survey the cabin or when someone called your name asking for help.

You’d just secured the clasp on the necklace you had been working on when a throat was cleared across from you. Looking up, you raised your eyebrows at Jaemin curiously. “Yes…?”

His project had disappeared from in front of him, but one of his hands was behind his back, so you had a suspicion as to where it went. The dryad held his other hand out palm-up on the table between you two. “May I?”

You put out your arm that already had your friendship bracelet from Soongie on it, and he grasped it gently. “Close your eyes?” He requested.

Amused, you did so, feeling when he slipped another bracelet on your wrist. You peeked one eye open, immediately spotting the bracelet that was comprised mostly of beads of your favorite color. You grinned, spinning it around to admire it.

“It’s perfect. Thanks, Jaem,” you said. Picking up the necklace, you declared, “Your turn.”

Standing up, you walked around to stand behind him, fastening the clasp at the back of his neck for him. “There you go.”

It was a shorter necklace, resting right at his collarbones, so he had to use his phone camera to look at it. His fingertips ran over the beads, then he reached back to squeeze your hand that was resting lightly on his shoulder.

“I love it.” He tilted his head back to absolutely beam at you.

At dinner, you weren’t even surprised when Jaemin joined you and Soongie in the line to get your food. You fondly noted that he was still wearing the necklace from earlier.

Leaning in towards him, you breathed in the familiar smells of roses and pine, then murmured, “Will you meet me? After lights-out tonight?”

“I had this weird feeling that you were going to ask me that,” he teased. “Yes.”

“So where are we headed?” Jaemin asked as soon as you found each other that night.

You didn’t hesitate to take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I want to try to make clover crowns again.”

He started tugging you down the walkways. “Let’s do it.”

Taking a deep breath of the fresh air that was all around you, you let out an unintentional sigh after. “I can’t believe we’re going back tomorrow.”

“It always amazes me how fast a month goes here.”

“We’re going to—I’m going to see you again, right? When we get back?”

Jaemin screeched to a stop in the middle of the trail, turning to you with a startlingly severe look on his face. “What kind of question—Of course. We live in the same city, go to the same school. I meant everything I said, Y/N.”

“I-I know, Jaem.” You glanced up at the stars peeking through the treetops. “I guess this whole month sort of felt surreal… I’m worried about what real life will be like for us.”

“It’ll be better,” he said confidently. “Because I can take you on real dates there.”

You chuckled, squeezing his hand. “I don’t know, the waterfall was pretty romantic.”

“I’m glad you think so, beautiful.” He started down the trail again. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

The camp was in a fairly remote location, so everyone loaded up onto buses in the morning to drive back into the city, where the children would then be picked up by their parents. Since you had volunteered for the set-up crew, you weren’t staying for break-down, which meant you were going back with the kids and monitoring pick-up for your campers.

Most of the kids (and counselors) were napping on the bus, thoroughly tuckered out from the month of camp, and having to get up early to eat breakfast before the buses departed. Soongie was curled up on the bench seat with her head in your lap as she slept, and you yawned just looking at her.

“Tired, gorgeous?” Jaemin murmured from his aisle seat next to you. The three of you probably didn’t need to squeeze into one row, but there was no part of you that wanted to tell him to move.

“Mm, a bit,” you admitted, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Sleep.” He shifted to wrap his arm around you, encouraging you to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

After waking up, pick-up went surprisingly smooth. Most of the campers’ parents were already at the pick-up location, so it was just a matter of checking IDs and sending the families on their way. Soongie excitedly tugged you over to a trio of adults, one of whom looked far too old to be her parent, and another looked far too young—your age at most. They introduced themselves as her covenmates, and one of the witches was in fact her biological father, the one who looked between the other two in age. You chatted with them for a little bit as they confessed to being nervous since this was Soongie’s first time away from the coven. You filled them in on how well she did at camp, downplaying the horrors of the first night to put their minds at ease. Soongie gave you one last big hug before all four of them left with huge smiles on their faces.

Ningning was driving herself and some of the other junior counselors home, and you sent them off with a wave, the witch honking her horn in return. When things around the lot were finally quiet, you saw that all the campers were gone, and the lead counselors were even beginning to disperse as well. Jaemin was already walking up to you, his duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Heading out?” You asked, trying to hide your disappointment.

“In a minute. Now that pick-up’s done…” He grabbed one of your wrists with one hand and tugged your friendship bracelet from Soongie off with the other.

“Hey, that’s—”

“Your bad luck charm.”

You looked between him and the gift in confusion. “What?”

“Soongie didn’t do it on purpose. Witches that little have no control over their powers. I didn’t say something before because I know you wouldn’t have gotten rid of it while you were still around her, and all it’s been doing is minorly inconveniencing you.” He turned the bracelet around in his fingers to look at the plastic beads. “If it was seriously hurting you, I would’ve intervened.”

“Wait, so when I tripped on my shoelace…?”

“And when the canoe flipped, and all the spots at the mess hall being taken, and probably anything else that went wrong this whole month.” He tossed it up in the air and caught it before pocketing it. “Unless you’re usually that unlucky?”

“No, I just figured it was because this was my first year. Learning the ropes and stuff,” you shrugged, still bewildered as suddenly everything was clicking.

“Unintentional sabotage.”

“Well, good thing I had you then, huh?” You joked, nudging him with your elbow. “My guardian dryad.”

He pretended to wipe sweat off his brow. “It was tough work, keeping an extra close eye on you.”

“Aw, and here I thought you were hanging around me so much because of our great chemistry?”

“That too.” Jaemin looped an arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, peppering kisses on your cheek as you giggled and futilely tried to hide your face from him. “Mostly that.”

⤷ anthology masterlist | blog masterlist

@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001 @snowyseungs @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

@ihatefrvits @classicroyalty @fairvtale @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01

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insphoeration · 5 months ago

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Posting this again because I'm finally ready to write it

Portrait of a Woman Teaser

Series summary: Benedict paints the woman in his dream as per one Sir Henry Granville because, according to his mentor, when you paint the woman in your dream she will come to life. Only she does come to life, in the middle of the night, scaring the hell out of Benedict but not only that, she claims to be from the year 2025.

Warnings: None for this part

🖼🎨♥️🎨🖼

A young woman danced around a field, a chestnut coloured horse pranced along with her. Together they moved in slow motion, her dress flowed around her like water and the wind whipped her hair around her face as she laughed.

“Benedict!” She called to him.

Benedict grinned at her from where he sat with his back against an oak tree. His sketchbook was open in front of him but was long forgotten as he watched the woman let go of all her worries. He had intended to draw when the two set out this morning but that thought was abandoned as easily as the book Eloise had lent her.

Her horse slowed to a stop a few feet away and Benedict let out a laugh as he saw the horse tilt his head as if to ask her why she had stopped playing with him. Benedict lowered his eyes to his sketchbook, hoping she wouldn’t notice that the tips of his ears were now bright pink.

“Benedict!” She called again.

When Benedict looked up, he was struck by how beautiful you were. He had know you were beautiful since the first time he saw you and he has been continuously reminded ever since but this is the first time your beauty caused a tight feeling in his chest.

Behind you was a small boy, he couldn’t have been more than 5, he looked similar to benedict when he was around the same age but there was something different about his smile.

“Father!” the little boy called out.

Now Benedict could see as you grabbed the little boy's hand, the two of you walking towards him, smiling.

“Benedict, my love, what on earth could you be so deep in thought about?”

The boy had your smile.

“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have you both, how lucky I am to have found you and how in love with you I am.” Benedict heard his voice list. The words were so natural, rolling off his tongue as if he’s said them a thousand times, as if they were meant to be said a thousand more.

“Benedict,” You giggled as he pulled you into his lap. Little Charles fell onto the both of you, not knowing what it was he was giggling about but, giggling nonetheless.

“Benedict.” You said again, more serious this time. Benedict frowned at you, whatever it was that was making you unhappy would be dealt with immediately, he swore it.

“What is it, my love?” He asked, brushing his hand through your hair.

“You need to wake up.” You tell him, cupping his face in your hand.

“This is a dream?” He asked, his heart dropped to his stomach. You nodded at him and he ripped his eyes away from yours only to find that you were now alone in the field. The horses were gone and your son was nowhere to be found. Your book and his sketchbook were missing from where they lay beside him mere seconds ago. He had just noticed the blanket he was sat on had disappeared as well, along with the picnic basket you brought along, he could have sworn there was a basket, you’d broughten along a picnic, had you not?

“Benedict,” you tugged his face to look at you. “You have to wake up now my love.”

“No.” he choked, “No, I will not. I will not leave you.” He declared, shaking his head vigorously.

You brushed your thumb along his cheek and he stilled.

“I don’t want to leave you.” He whispered, a single tear flowing from his eye.

“I know,” you said, using your thumb to brush away his tear then leaning forward to kiss away the tear that fell from his other eye. “But you must. You must wake up and find me.”

With a scream, Benedict felt you being ripped away from each other.

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader

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insphoeration · 5 months ago

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Portrait of a Woman Masterlist

Benedict paints the woman in his dream as per one Sir Henry Granville because, according to his mentor, when you paint the woman in your dream she will come to life. Only she does come to life, in the middle of the night, scaring the hell out of Benedict but not only that, she claims to be from the year 2023.

Preface: The dream

Chapter 1: Portrait of a Strange Woman

#strangers to friends to lovers #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton fanfic #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x you #portrait of a woman

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insphoeration · 6 months ago

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And how many children are without a parent because of denied medical care, homelessness, police brutality, etc.

If you're going to use "but they have children", be consistent.

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insphoeration · 7 months ago

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website

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insphoeration · 8 months ago

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Men who talk about wanting a “Morticia Addams” fail to realize what even made Morticia love Gomez in the first place. Gomez is catastrophically in love with Morticia and is extremely devoted to her. He genuinely worships Morticia like a goddess. She is his entire religion. Morticia did not choose Gomez for his cool indifference.

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insphoeration · 8 months ago

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You Make It Better

a/n: this was a request! I loved writing this, and I actually had to make myself stop before it got too out of hand (obviously, do you see the word count?) maybe I'll do a pt. 2??

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: language, some descriptions of anxiety and self-doubt

word count: 7.9k

synopsis: Life as Nesta Archeron's friend had never been smooth-sailing, but you never would have thought it would land you in the fae lands, in a fae body, surrounded by unfamiliar...everything. You're struggling to adapt to your new life while dealing with the loss of your human one, but there is one fae male that makes it all just a little bit easier.

my masterlist

~ ~ ~

“Hi.”

Azriel’s head snapped toward you. He was slouched in a low-back chair facing the library’s windows, his large wings draped low behind him, but his eyes were wide and alert as he took you in.

You shifted in the doorway, folding your hands behind your back. You avoided his eyes as you asked quietly, “How are you?”

Azriel stared at you for a moment. Self-consciousness started to creep in as you stood there, all too aware of the plain gown adorning you that you had refused to abandon since arriving in the fae lands. They had offered you plenty of ornate clothes and jewelry since you were dragged out of that cauldron, but all you wanted was something simple, comfortable, and mundane.

There was nothing mundane about you anymore. Not in the way your ears were shaped, or the way your body moved, or how your skin seemed to shimmer in the sunlight.

“I’m better,” Azriel’s cool, deep voice drew you from your critical thoughts. You swallowed, analyzing the beautiful man–beautiful male, you supposed–across the room from you. You didn’t dare step any closer.

“That’s good,” you whispered. This was the first time you had ever spoken to him. The last time you had even seen him was when he was lying in a pool of his own blood in front of the King of Hybern, his wings in tatters. You didn’t know what you were even doing here, talking to him now. You had just needed to get out of your bedroom, and had wandered the expansive halls aimlessly until you landed here. “I’ll leave you be,” you said softly, taking a single step back before his voice halted you.

“No, Y/N, wait a minute,” he rushed out. “How are you?”

Your lips parted slightly as you processed his question. You had been here for two weeks, and it was the first time someone had asked you that. Sure, there was plenty of fussing and daily check-ins with a member of the High Lord’s court, but you still felt so lonely, so isolated from everyone. They were all so worried about the physical well-being of Feyre’s friend, but there was no one who seemed to be worried about you. You didn’t blame them, and you weren’t angry with them either. They didn’t know you, and you didn’t know them, and they had done whatever they could to care for you.

You were angry with Nesta, though. You had not seen her either since that dreadful night that you were all shoved into that cauldron. She had sequestered herself away with Elain, and had not deigned to even see you. Her friend. She was the reason you were even in this gods-forsaken body in the damn Night Court of Prythian, and while you didn’t blame her for your kidnapping, you did blame her for abandoning you once you arrived here.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet Azriel’s, who was waiting patiently for a response you didn’t know how to give. You shrugged slightly, mustering a small, placating smile. “I’m okay.”

He seemed to study you, eyes flicking up and down. You watched the shadows pulse around him in contemplation, recalling the name you had heard his friends murmur while speaking with his healers that first night.

“They call you a Shadowsinger,” you murmured quietly.

Azriel’s eyes followed yours toward his shadows. His gaze returned to yours apprehensively, nodding slightly. “Yes.”

“So,” you started, taking one step closer, “you control them?”

He seemed to hesitate, but eventually said, “Yes.”

His short answers weren’t exactly invitations to continue asking questions, to continue pestering him, but he didn’t seem to mind your presence. You thought about the sensation of being watched at night while laying in bed, the darkness that seemed to move in the corner of your room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask such an outrageous question, so instead you asked, “Do you really fly?”

A small, teasing smile lifted his lips. “That is how you made it into this House, no?”

Your cheeks heated in embarrassment. That was a ridiculous question. If Rhys could fly you up this mountain, obviously Azriel could too. He must have sensed your embarrassment, though, because he said more seriously, “Yes, I do fly.”

You swallowed, struggling to think of something else to say. “Do you like it?”

His face seemed to soften, the morning sun gleaming off his golden skin. “More than anything.”

Your eyes glanced at the shadows retreating into the darker corners of his chair. “Do they…tell you things?”

He looked at his shadows, before nodding. “A convenient skill for a spymaster,” he said softly.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Spymaster?”

“Yes,” he said slowly, his brows furrowing. “How much have you been told about our court?”

You looked away from him, focusing on the soft satin slippers Morrigan had given you yesterday. The first gift you had accepted from the cheerful blonde. “Not much,” you admitted. “I’ve really only spoken to Rhys and Morrigan. Morrigan checks on me every day, but they have their hands full right now.”

His nostrils flared a bit as he took in a breath. “That’s not an excuse,” he told you quietly.

The heat on your cheeks spread down your neck as you also admitted, “I also haven’t exactly been an enthusiastic guest.”

Understanding flooded his features, his eyes rife with sympathy that you immediately wanted to run from. You didn’t want his pity. You didn’t want anyone’s pity. You just wanted to be spoken to like a human—or fae—whatever the hell you should even call yourself now. Regardless, you didn’t like being handled with kid gloves. Hiding away in your room probably wasn’t the best strategy to convince people that you were not fragile, but it was better than seeing that look every time you spoke with someone.

“Why are you spying on me then?” you blurted in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. Which, you supposed you did, but you also felt the little dignity you still clung to shrivel up inside your chest.

Azriel was clearly taken aback by the boldfaced accusation, and you couldn’t blame him. Who did you think you were? Not only had you barged in on the Night Court’s spymaster and pestered him with your questions, but then you decided to accuse him of invading your privacy, and you didn’t even know the poor male. “I’m sorry,” you sputtered out. “It’s just, I feel like I’m being watched at night. Like the shadows in my room are alive, and now seeing yours, I just thought—maybe I wasn’t actually losing my mind. But I’m probably just paranoid, I never should have suggested—”

“It’s okay,” he cut off your rambling gently. He cast a glare at his retreating shadows, before looking at you again. His cheeks were tinted pink, and you took an involuntary step forward as your heart flipped. “I do control the shadows—most of the time. But it seems they decided to take it upon themselves to watch over our guests while I’ve been…indisposed. I wasn’t even aware until now, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head a bit. “They don’t bother me, I was just…confused I guess. This entire place is confusing to me,” you added softly.

“I can imagine,” he said. You shifted again, rubbing your forearm. You let yourself look at him closely, just for a minute, just long enough to notice the honey hazel eyes that watched you carefully, and the dark swirls of ink creeping out from the neckline of his black shirt. You swallowed hard, feeling unsteady in his presence in a way you’ve never experienced, as if your body was begging you to move closer to him, but your mind and logic were pulling you back.

You forced yourself to step back toward the doorway. “I should go,” you said quietly. “I’m glad you are doing better.” With that, you shut the glass double doors behind you, and darted down the hallway to the safety of your room as your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest.

~ ~ ~

“Hello.”

You jumped at the male voice behind you, placing a hand on your chest as you turned to face Azriel. He was smiling softly, and your face flushed from having been caught. You glanced at Cassian and Feyre training in the courtyard before looking back at him.

“Hi,” you replied sheepishly.

“You don’t have to hide here, you know,” he said genuinely, no teasing in his voice.

You bit your lip, glancing at the stone floor. It had been a week since Feyre had returned, and while it was great to have her back, nothing else had changed much. You had been here for over a month now, and you still wore the same plain gowns, and you were still in the same overly luxurious room, and Nesta had only spoken to you once. You supposed your conversation was better than you could have hoped, given the reported vitriol she seemed to spit at everyone else, but she was still so cold and detached. You missed your friend, and you missed having purpose in your daily life.

“You could train too,” Azriel said softly, and your eyes snapped to him. “If you want.”

You opened and closed your mouth. You had caught glimpses of Feyre training with Cassian the last few days, and today your curiosity got the better of you when you walked by the training room and heard them sparring. Logically, you knew you could have just walked in and watched them, rather than hiding in the plants framing the entryway, but you also feared they might have asked you to join them if they saw you. “I don’t want to fight,” you mumbled, avoiding Azriel’s stare.

He didn’t say anything for a minute, prompting you to glance up at him. There was no judgment in his gaze. There was nothing but pure understanding that made you feel overly exposed. The urge to scamper off and hide was biting at you, and you curled your hands into fists as you anxiously waited for him to say something.

“What do you like to do?”

The question startled you, and you frowned as you met his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“How do you like to spend your time? What did your life look like before…” he trailed off, and you winced at the words left unsaid.

Azriel looked poised to apologize, but you answered hastily to avoid receiving any more pity. You weren’t some fragile doll, and you were tired of everyone walking on tip toes around you. “I like to sew.”

“Sew?”

You nodded. “Dresses.”

You didn’t miss his glance at your plain blue gown, and your cheeks flooded with heat. “Ironic, given my usual choice of attire. I know.”

Azriel’s eyes widened a bit. “That’s not—”

“It’s okay,” you assured, cheeks still warm. “I get it. Really. But the dresses I made were never…luxurious. They were practical. Necessary.” You bit your lip. “They were very mundane.”

Azriel’s face softened, and you braced yourself for the next question, for him to ask to see your dresses or when the last time you made something was (months, was the answer). “If you ever want to make something here,” he said quietly, “Just let one of us know. We’ll get you whatever you need.”

Your heart clenched. “Thank you,” you whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“As for training,” Azriel said, voice turning light, “you still could, even if you don’t want to fight. You can build your strength. Learn to defend yourself.”

Your eyes were drawn back toward Feyre, who was smiling with Cassian as she wiped sweat from her face. You nodded a bit, answering shyly, “I think I would like that, actually.”

~ ~ ~

When you told Azriel you wanted to train, you didn’t realize exactly what you had signed yourself up for. You had assumed he would ask Cassian to train you, just as he did with Feyre. Instead, when you showed up that first morning to train, you were startled to find the shadowsinger himself standing in the training room. Apparently, he was going to train you.

Two weeks had passed since then, and Azriel was brutal. He wasn’t harsh, or cruel, and he never yelled, but his demands were unrelenting. You had yet to even learn any sparring techniques. He said you needed to build your strength, to increase your bodily control, if you were to ever effectively protect yourself in the face of danger.

You supposed that made sense. He would be the one to know, after all, but it didn’t dull the ache ricocheting through your legs as you wobbly sat on the floor to catch your breath. You were dripping with sweat, your hair soaked and leathers damp. Most days you still couldn’t fathom that you were here, that you were training with a fae warrior while wearing pants.

A fae warrior that made your insides turn molten every time you met his eyes. You were fortunate he didn’t think anything of the flush in your cheeks every time he spoke to you during training. In any other scenario your schoolgirl crush would be embarrassingly obvious.

The toe of his boot nudged your outstretched calf. You glanced up at him through your haze of exhaustion, lifting a brow. “Get up,” was all he said.

You frowned, taking in a deep breath. “Azriel,” you groaned.

“I’m going to teach you something new.”

You perked up a bit at that, although the growing numbness of your legs protested. You pushed yourself to your feet anyway, willing your body to hold out a bit longer. Azriel might have been demanding with his training regime, but he had yet to push you past your limits.

He beckoned you to follow him to the center of the room, and you stopped a few feet in front of him. “You’re not ready to spar yet,” he said, and you glanced away, “but there are other defense mechanisms you need to learn first anyway. Sometimes, if someone has a hold of you, the best defense isn’t to fight at all, but to know how to get away.”

He took a step closer, his intense gaze somehow pulling yours back to his. “If you are ever in a situation where someone has control of you, if they are trying to take you somewhere or hurt you, your priority is to regain control, and then get the hell out. That’s it. Your safety is always your priority.”

You nodded in understanding, and the tension in his eyes seemed to relax a bit. His throat bobbed, and let out a breath before saying, “Today, you’re going to learn how to escape from someone else’s grasp.”

Excitement prickled at your skin, despite the terrifying circumstances that would have to arise for you to ever actually need to use these skills. It was just nice to finally learn something more technical than building your strength or endurance.

Azriel stepped even closer, and your heart skipped a beat at his proximity. He paused his movements, his eyes meeting yours again. “Are you comfortable with me touching you?”

Your eyes widened a bit, and you had to restrain the overeager yes! that nearly fell from your lips. You simply nodded, and when he still didn’t move, you quietly said, “That’s fine.”

Your skin was on fire before he even touched you, and it was a bit embarrassing, really, how starved you had become for someone else’s touch. Even if it was in the form of something as clinical as teaching self-defense. You were so isolated here, though, and it had been nearly two months since your life had been upended and you lost everything you knew and loved.

He moved behind you, and he slowly wrapped his arms around you, trapping your own against your sides. His chest was pressed to your back, his body heat mixing with your own, and his breath fanned across your cheek as he said, “If someone ever grabs you from behind like this, your goal is to get away.” He shifted his arms up to enclose around your throat, making your swallow hard. “If they have you in a chokehold, hit them in the groin, and when their hold loosens, you slip out.”

His arms moved back down to circle your middle, trapping your arms again. “I don’t get to try?” you asked innocently.

Azriel glanced at you from the corner of his eye. “Not today,” he said drily.

You smiled a bit, then refocused on your task at hand. “So if my arms are trapped,” you said, “then what do I do?”

His hold on you tightened a bit, and you did your best to ignore the pounding in your chest. “If your arms are trapped like this,” he said, voice low, “then you move down. Squat and spread your arms at the same time to break their hold, and then push them away.” He squeezed you. “Try.”

You took in a breath, nerves fluttering in your chest. You tried to squat, but Azriel only followed your movement, and you couldn’t get your arms free. You stood back up, letting out a huff.

There was laughter in his voice as he said, “Try again. This time do it faster.”

You tried again, but Azriel’s hold was unrelenting. “I feel ridiculous,” you muttered, still trapped against him.

“You forgot to spread your arms, it needs to be a fluid motion if you want to loosen their hold enough. Again.”

“What,” Nesta’s icy cold voice sliced through the room, “are you doing?”

You tensed, and Azriel’s arms slowly fell away. You blinked at your friend standing in the doorway, her hair pulled back in her usual impeccable braids and her eyes filled with her usual ice. Although, usually that icy gaze wasn’t directed toward you.

Your face flushed under her scrutiny, and you scrambled for an explanation, but words seemed to fail you. You hadn’t done anything wrong, but the butterflies that had been fluttering around in your chest seemed to drop dead, settling heavy in your stomach as you stood in front of your friend. Your friend who was also forced into the cauldron, who was also struggling while you were busy nursing your growing infatuation with the fae male at your side.

“Azriel is training me,” you said softly.

“Why?” she demanded, her eyes sparking as she turned her gaze on the male.

“She asked,” he answered simply.

Nesta took a step closer, her voice dripping with venom as she said, “I doubt that.” She scoffed. “You faerie males are all so entitled and overbearing. As if I believe for a second that you didn’t plant this foolish notion in her head,” she spat. “She doesn’t need to train, and she doesn’t need you panting after her.”

You could practically feel the tension thrumming off of Azriel, but something inside you snapped at the way she spoke to him, to the one person that had bothered to make a connection with you since arriving in this court. “Enough,” you growled. Nesta blinked, her mouth falling shut. “Azriel offered to train me, and I said yes, because I want to. I want to feel strong. I want to know how to defend myself. I will never,” you seethed, “let myself feel as helpless as I did two months ago.”

You heard Azriel’s leathers shift next to you, his arm brushing against yours. That brief touch was enough to ground you, an inexplicable calm flowing through you. You let out a breath, your gaze softening but unwavering as you looked at Nesta. “It is helping me,” you said, voice softer, “To have a routine. To have a goal. You are welcome to join us.”

Nesta only stared for a minute, her eyes flickering with indecipherable emotion before she pursed her lips. “No.” With that, she turned on her heel, and left the same way she came.

Your mouth was dry as you stared at the empty doorway. Azriel’s hand on your shoulder jolted you from your stupor, but it fell as you turned to face him. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“She is hurting,” Azriel said, and a small part of you warmed at his ability to see beneath the icy armor Nesta liked to sheath herself in. You were all hurting, and while you desperately wished she would just talk to you, you knew Nesta, and you knew she would rather build a fortress around herself that let anyone see her tremble. “But you shouldn’t apologize for others’ wrongs,” he added gently.

You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. Your stomach swooped as you looked at him, thinly veiled concern shadowing his face. You couldn’t shake the pull you felt toward him, and now it left you feeling unnerved more than giddy. “Can we be done for today?” you asked, voice small.

Azriel frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” You tried to smile, but you knew it didn’t meet your eyes. “I’m just exhausted.”

“Okay,” he acquiesced. “Same time tomorrow then?”

“Yeah,” you rasped. “See you tomorrow.” As soon as the words left your lips, you darted out of the training room, mind reeling as you thought about Nesta’s scornful words.

You did want to train, you knew that, but what you couldn’t wrap your head around was how easily you had agreed to Azriel’s offer to teach you. Why did spending time with him every morning seem to soothe the ache that clawed at your chest from all that you had lost? Why did he make you feel at peace, when the very body you now resided in was the product of turmoil and violence? The realizations were jarring, and the questions they raised made your head swim as you fell into your bed, forgoing the removal of your leathers as you succumbed to your exhaustion.

~ ~ ~

Your eyes scanned the bodies moving from one tent to the next, fires crackling around you as camp members cooked or gathered around for warmth in the chill of the night. Nesta stood next to you, observing the camp’s nervous energy silently.

“Do you think we’ll have another night here?” you asked quietly.

A beat passed before she replied, “No, I don’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart lodged in your throat. Your eyes scanned the grounds again, and in your soul you knew what you were really looking for—who you were looking for. There was no sign of the blue siphoned Illryian, and every minute, every hour that passed without laying your eyes on him intensified the growing pain in your chest.

“He’ll be fine,” Nesta said, albeit a tad begrudgingly. You weren’t sure how she knew where your anxiety truly lied, but you didn’t question her. You didn’t say anything.

Ever since Nesta barged in on your training session with Azriel, the rest of your sessions had been more tense, less fluid. You were sure it was your fault, your mind overthinking your growing friendship with the fae male, but nonetheless you longed for your early morning sessions in the face of this war. It was hard to comprehend just how much had changed in the matter of weeks.

Once Adriata was attacked, time for your training sessions became minimal, until they eventually fizzled out completely after the High Lords meeting. You understood, of course, but you couldn’t quell the longing you felt for Azriel in his absence. It was foolish, how attached you had grown to him after a month of knowing him, but you tried to give yourself grace given the circumstances you had been thrusted into.

The only positive change over those weeks had been Nesta’s rekindling of your friendship. She seeked you out one night to drag you to the private library of the House of Wind, and the two of you chatted quietly over books beside the fire. It was the most normal experience you’d had since arriving in the Night Court, and it bandaged the wound that was starting to fester from Nesta’s absence. You still hadn’t talked about what happened to the two of you, about your futures in Prythian, in a world of faeries. Neither of you were ready for those conversations yet.

You sighed, releasing a fraction of the tension in your shoulders. You said nothing before moving back toward the main tent, hoping you might be able to get some sleep before returning to the healers’ tent to help.

“Where is Y/N?”

His voice washed over you as you pushed through the flaps, entering the small area illuminated in faelights. You stopped at the sight of his wings splattered in blood, his dark hair matted to his head as he spoke with Feyre.

“Azriel?” you rasped. Azriel turned toward you, his body visibly relaxing when he saw you.

Your eyes were wide as he strode for you, his face speckled in blood and grime. His blue siphons seemed dimmer than usual, and his black leathers and armor were darker in some areas. “Are you okay?” you asked breathlessly, fearing the worst, even though he was standing right in front of you.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly, eyes soft. His gaze drifted up and down your body, his shadows mirroring his assessment. The cool brush of the tendrils left goosebumps across your skin, and you briefly wondered why that was the first time he had let them touch you. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, eyes brimming with worry.

“I’m fine,” you assured. His hands grasped your upper arms firmly, the tension of his grasp mirroring that on his face. You wrapped your fingers around one of his wrists. “I promise.”

His grip loosened marginally. “Why aren’t you wearing armor?” he asked.

“I’m working in the healers’ tent.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. You still need to protect yourself—”

“I will get her armor, Az,” Feyre’s voice cut through your bubble as she placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes shone with thanks as she smiled slightly, her eyes limned with exhaustion. “I’m going to try to sleep. Let me know if you need me,” she said quietly, before disappearing from the tent, leaving the two of you alone.

Azriel’s breathing was heavy as you stared at each other, soaking in each other’s presence. “I need you to do something for me,” he said roughly. He dropped his hands from your shoulders to unsheath the dagger at his side. Your heart lurched as he handed it to you. You shakily grasped the dagger by the hilt, the blade surprisingly light and thrumming with energy. “It’s called Truth Teller,” he told you. “I need you to take care of it for me.”

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, shock stealing your words. “Azriel—”

“I want you to use it. If you need it, use it. Do not hesitate to protect yourself,” he ordered, eyes pleading. “Do you understand me?”

You absently nodded, glancing down at the black dagger clutched in your hand. The dagger you had never seen Azriel without. He stepped away to grab something off the table, returning with a leather belt in his hands. “Wear this.” He held it up, and you noticed the perfectly sized dagger sheath fastened to the belt.

Your heart stopped beating as his hands circled your waist to wrap the brown leather around you. He easily fastened the buckle, pulling the material taught around you. When he was done, he tugged at the buckle, his fingers grazing your waist and making your skin heat. Seemingly satisfied, he reached for the dagger in your hand, carefully pulling it from your grasp and sheathing it in your belt. You swallowed hard as you looked between the dagger and the male in front of you.

“I have to leave again,” he said quietly. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Please, just,” his voice caught in his throat, “please stay safe.”

He squeezed your hand gently before moving toward the tent’s exit. You quickly caught his wrist, yanking him to a halt. His eyes were confused and weary with exhaustion, but you didn’t second guess yourself as you threw your arms around his neck, desperate to keep him here with you. He leaned down to meet your embrace, his own arms snaking around your waist to hold you close. His face nuzzled into your neck as yours pressed against his chest, and you breathed in his cedar scent that made you feel closer to home than you had in weeks.

“I need you to stay safe too,” you whispered into his chest. A shadow brushed your cheek as you closed your eyes, willing this moment to last a little longer.

A heavy silence fell around the two of you, and your chest grew tighter as every second passed. “Promise me, Azriel,” you begged, voice rough with the emotions threatening to spill out of you.

He lifted a hand to the back of your head, his hand gently threading through your hair. “I’ll do my best.”

You pulled back to look at him, his hands falling to rest on your hips as yours moved to rest on his chest plated with armor. His fingers pressed into your hips as he said with more conviction, “I promise I’ll do my best to make it back.”

Your eyes stung as you accepted that was the best he could give you. You couldn’t even begin to process why you were so attached to a male you had known barely a month, but the thought of losing him to this dreadful war felt like someone struck your chest with an ax.

His face was rife with conflict and agony as his glossy eyes stayed glued to your face. You wished you knew what plagued him at that very moment, if there was anything you could have done to alleviate some of that pain and anxiety for even a second.

His throat bobbed, a muscle twitching in his cheek as the two of you stood there, still holding on to each other. Eventually, he slowly leaned down, and pressed a fierce, lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and when his touch fell away, and you forced yourself to open your eyes again, you watched his lingering shadows slip out of the tent where their master had disappeared from your sight.

~ ~ ~

The first few weeks following the war were a strange form of purgatory that left you feeling unsteady and filled with an entirely new form of anxiety. You hated feeling that way, too. You and your friends had all survived a war, and you were left worrying about your immortal future in this land that was frankly still foreign to you. You resided in a court that had taken you in after your human life was a casualty of their war, but now that war was over, and you didn’t know how to operate. You didn’t know what your daily life should look like, what relationships with those around you would look like when you weren’t facing an imminent threat.

It didn’t help that you had not genuinely spoken to Azriel since he gave you his dagger in that war tent. You had silently handed it back to him in the hours after you and Elain had slain the King of Hybern with the weapon. His eyes were wide and limned with weary exhaustion mixed with a hesitant relief as he took it from you. Neither of you said a word though, and then he was quickly swept away into dealing with the aftermath of the war. You could not fault him for it. You couldn’t fault anyone for the limbo you had been stranded in, and part of you was ashamed for your growing anxiety, so you had resorted to staying out of the way while everyone scrambled to handle the fallout from the war.

Any progress you and Nesta had made seemed to vanish with the death of her father. She wasn’t speaking to anyone, as far as you knew, after vacating the House of Wind. Elain had moved in with Feyre at the Townhouse, so that left you here, alone in the House of Wind with occasional run-ins with Cassian at meal times, whose eyes were weary with his own anxieties. Part of you thought your missing friend might be the cause of much of his tension.

You didn’t know where Azriel was. Some nights you thought he might have been there, as you laid awake in bed and a sixth sense sent a wave of comforting warmth through your chest while the shadows of the night seemed to pulse around you. It always quickly faded, though, and he was never there the next morning.

Sleep started to evade you as your listlessness and uncertainty of your future grew. Your mind was churning with scenarios and possibilities for your future, for ways you could contribute to this foreign court and city you now had to call home. Usually, you would just lay with your thoughts throughout the hours of the night until dawn eventually broke, but that night, the walls seemed to be closing in as you wallowed in your loneliness and fear, as memories of the war started to flash in your head. You couldn’t stay in that room a second longer, so you meandered down the dimly lit stone halls until you reached the kitchen.

You put a kettle on, and then you started rifling through the cupboards until you found a mug and some tea. You didn’t recognize the herbs, but you figured Rhys’s taste in tea was as extravagant as everything else in his life. You placed the sachet in the mug before putting the rest in the cupboard, then rested your weight on the counter in front of you as you waited for the water in the kettle to heat.

“That’s an aphrodisiac.”

You screamed at the sudden voice behind you, whirling to find Azriel sitting at the small table a few feet away from you, his form barely illuminated by the moonlight leaking in. You rested a hand over your heart, your breathing heavy from the scare he gave you. “What are you doing?” you asked him, exasperated.

He stood up from his chair to move closer, his face slowly growing more visible in the dim faelight of the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I realized you didn’t see me when you came in, and I didn’t want to scare you, but then I watched you pull out that damned tea Cassian bought last solstice and…” his voice trailed off.

You nodded, looking around the space awkwardly. You didn’t really know what to say to the male in front of you, but you did have one, nagging question that had plagued your thoughts these last few weeks. “Where have you been?” Your mouth was dry as you forced the words out, fearing you were overstepping, that you had no place to ask such a question.

Something indecipherable flickered in Azriel’s gaze, but you didn’t think it was irritation. “Everywhere,” he said quietly, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence the night surrounded you in. “But Autumn, mostly.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you were expecting him to say, but part of you didn’t expect him to have a genuine response. Shame curdled in your gut for the resentment that had started to simmer in you for his absence, when he’s been busy taking care of his home.

“Where have you been?” he returned your question almost playfully, and your heart hurt when you wondered if he didn’t feel the same longing you did during these weeks you’ve spent apart.

“Here,” you answered honestly, voice forcibly light.

Azriel blinked, his shadows stilling. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, leaning back on the counter as if you could create some more distance between the two of you. “Everyone has been busy dealing with the consequences of the war.” You gave him a small, self-deprecating smile. “I’m pretty much useless right now, so I’ve just been trying to stay out of the way.”

Azriel looked like you had struck him, and your stomach dropped as you realized you might have been too honest with him. You should be practically oozing gratitude for his court’s hospitality, and here you were whining to him, of all people.

He grabbed your hand, gently tugging you to follow after him toward the balcony. His scarred fingers laced with yours, and your heartbeat skyrocketed at the unexpected touch. The cool night air felt a bit harsh on your flushed cheeks, and Azriel’s warm hand in yours contrasted with the chill around you.

He stopped in the center of the balcony, pulling you close to him, and you reluctantly let go when he loosened his grip on your hand. “What are we doing?” you asked.

He grinned, and your stomach flipped. “Remember when you asked me if I could fly?”

Your cheeks heated. “Yes,” you mumbled. The thoughtless question was embarrassing, but you told yourself it was worth it to learn how much flying meant to him.

“Let me show you why I love it,” he told you, voice tender.

Your eyes widened. “You want to take me flying?”

He nodded, expression hopeful. “Do you want to?”

You bit your lip, glancing at the city of Velaris beneath you. “I’m a bit nervous,” you admitted, laughing a bit.

His gaze softened. “I promise you’ll be safe,” he assured you.

With a sudden, unwavering certainty, you knew that you would be safe with Azriel, so you simply nodded. His smile widened, and your heart soared for being the cause of it. He held his arms out a bit, palms up, and your body thrummed with anticipation when you realized what exactly flying with Azriel entailed.

You took a small step forward, shyness creeping in as you met his eyes hesitantly, but before you could overthink or question what you should do, Azriel swooped you off your feet, an arm under your legs and back. A small gasp escaped you, and your arms instinctively looped around his neck. You had only flown one other time, that first day you arrived in Velaris with Rhysand. During the war, you had been winnowed around to wherever you needed to go, and since then you had been stuck on this mountain.

You knew you could have asked Cassian to take you to the city. You knew he would have done it in a heartbeat, but you couldn’t muster the courage to leave the House, to face the new city you were supposed to build a life in. Somehow, the prospect of leaving here with Azriel made it all a little less daunting.

“Ready?” he asked, his breath lightly fanning across your face.

You simply nodded and tightened your hold on the male. Wind rushed around you as his massive wings pushed you up into the air, and you were quickly suspended high over the mountain. You kept your face tucked into him as you listened to the heavy beat of his wings.

“Are you okay?” he asked into your ear.

Goosebumps littered your skin. “Great,” you rasped.

You felt the vibration of his laugh against your face. “Then take a look around you.” Then, he added, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Reluctantly, you pulled your face from his chest, forcing yourself to look down at the city below you. The lights of the shops and restaurants glittered across the city, and bodies moved between buildings, with laughter and chatter faintly reaching your ears even all the way up here. Another heightened sense that came with being fae that you had yet to grow accustomed too. “Is it always so busy? Even in the middle of the night?”

“They do call it the City of Starlight,” was his coy response.

“Right,” you mumbled. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

The two of you stayed quiet for the rest of the flight over the city, with you resting your head on his chest and his hands clutching you close to him. You admired his wings that were near iridescent in the moonlight, and you wondered what they would feel like under your fingertips. You were nearing an outcropping on the side of the mountain when you asked, “Your wings…how do they feel?”

Azriel tilted his head toward you, studying your face a bit. “They’re delicate,” he said slowly, “but they’re also durable. Strong. They are uh,” he seemed to fumble over his words. “They’re also very sensitive.”

“Sensitive?”

“To touch.”

“Oh,” you murmured. “So it hurts to touch them?” You couldn’t deny the twinge of disappointment you felt.

“Not that kind of sensitive,” he corrected, voice thick.

You caught the hint of a blush on his cheeks, and your own quickly bloomed as you caught on. “Oh.”

Azriel cleared his throat, then abruptly dove toward the outcropping below. You squeezed him a little tighter, and when he eventually settled on the stone, you had to pry your hands from around his neck so he could set you down.

You looked up at the stars glistening through the tree canopies, mesmerized by their abundance and luminescence. Your gaze slowly moved to the shimmering city beneath you, taking in the view from a different angle that the House of Wind. You were much closer to the sea here, and you could smell the salt and surf that lingered in the air. A strange melancholy filled your veins as you stared down at the city you had resided in for months and had yet to walk to the streets of, that you had yet to integrate into because you were scared of failing to find a new purpose with your life. The only skill you possessed was dressmaking, and underwhelming ones at that.

“I’m not sure how much you’ve been able to explore Velaris yet—” Azriel said from behind you.

“I haven’t.”

A beat passed. “What?”

“I haven’t.” You licked your lips, your gaze fleetingly meeting his worried one. “I haven’t visited the city.”

“I knew you hadn’t when we were training,” he said, voice soft with disbelief, “But I thought, once we came back from the war…”

You didn’t answer him, and he didn’t say anything else, so instead you asked, “Why did you just disappear?” Azriel went still, but you continued, “Why didn’t you…talk to me?” You wondered if you sounded as pathetic as you felt. You knew he didn’t owe you anything, but you couldn’t deny the part of you that thought the two of you had at least become friends over the last couple of months.

Seconds passed before Azriel finally said, “I was trying to give you space.”

“Space?” you asked incredulously. You couldn’t help the laugh of disbelief that escaped you as you turned to fully face the male. “Why would I ever want you to give me space?” You met his eyes, shaking your head. “Azriel, you are the only one who—” You cut yourself off, unsure of where you were even going with your rambling.

His lips parted, and his shadows swirled around him restlessly, but he didn’t say anything.

“Ever since I arrived in this court, I have felt so alone,” you breathed out. “My best friend won’t speak to me, and I don’t know anyone else. But you,” you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize the tremble in your voice, “you made it better. You were my first friend. Maybe, maybe I misread—”

“You didn’t,” he rushed out, voice almost desperate. His eyes were wide and stricken, but you couldn’t understand what he was thinking or why he had avoided you for weeks to then suddenly take you for a midnight flight around the city.

You let out a breath, your exhaustion from everything weighing you down. “I feel so detached from everyone and everything around me,” you whispered. “I have no purpose here. I have no powers, I can’t fight, I know nothing about political strategy, I—”

“You’re my mate.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed the words that fell from Azriel’s mouth. Your lips were parted as you stared at him, his eyes glossy as he stared back. “What?” you asked, voice trembling.

“You’re my mate,” he repeated, breathless. “I—” He paused, licking his lips and rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to imply that that’s your purpose, but it kills me,” his voice cracked, “It kills me that you feel this way, because you are my everything.”

A tear fell down your cheek as you listened to his words, as you understood their meaning. A mate. You were Azriel’s mate. The world felt like it was tilting beneath you.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.” He took in a shuddering breath. “I let my own insecurities keep me away from you. I thought, when you didn’t talk to me after the war ended, that I had overstepped. I have never wanted to push myself or the bond on you, but during the war, when I was so scared of losing you—” He shook his head, running a hand over his face. “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so I stayed away. Had I known you had been so isolated, so lonely, I would have been here.”

“I, um,” you cleared your throat. “I don’t really know what to think right now.”

“That’s okay,” he said softly.

You held his gaze as you rasped, “I don’t really know anything about mates, except that Rhys and Feyre are each other’s.”

“I know,” he assured, taking a tentative step forward. “I don’t expect anything from you. I will take whatever it is you’re willing to give me, in whatever time it takes.”

You nodded, lips wavering. “Thank you.”

Your eyes fell from his glistening eyes to his soft lips, and while you knew you needed time before you could fall into being someone’s mate, whatever that entailed, you also knew you wanted to kiss the male that stood before you and had made you feel safe, at peace, every time he was near. You took a step closer, your chests nearly touching. You met his eyes shyly. “Can I…”

“Yes,” he breathed, his own head tilting down to give you easier access.

You raised yourself up on your toes to reach his lips, yours molding easily with his. A slow, comforting warmth flowed up through your chest as you pressed your lips against his, neither of you pushing for more than the chance to explore each other in this new and intimate way. Eventually, you pulled back, falling back onto your feet to stare up at Azriel’s reverent gaze.

“I don’t know much about mates,” you breathed, head still spinning, “but I would like to learn.”

A soft smile pulled at his lips. “I would be honored to teach you.”

You hummed, toying with one of the clasps on his leathers. “I suppose you are a decent teacher.”

Azriel’s hands rested on your hips, pulling you close. “Decent?”

You grinned. “Satisfactory.”

His eyes glinted. “I guess I have room for improvement then.” He pressed a quick, easy kiss to your lips, and your heart flipped when he pulled away, looking at you in awe.

“Yeah,” you agreed, heart tumbling in your chest. “I guess so.”

~ ~ ~

read part 2

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insphoeration · 8 months ago

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i’m not responsible for the feral, unhinged, filthy, thirsty, borderline psychotic smut I write while i’m ovulating

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insphoeration · 9 months ago

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@theostrophywife WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS A THREAT (pls be a threat)

IN ANOTHER LIFE

“You may not be my Matty, but you’ll always be my Matty.”

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insphoeration · 9 months ago

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insphoeration · 10 months ago

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CHAPTER FOUR

home | chapters | playlist

🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.

🤍 song inspiration: wonder by shawn mendes.

🤍 author’s note: you don't want to miss this one 😏

Step 4 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting

One Bed — : A narrative device used primarily in romance and romantic comedy genres, where two characters, typically with a burgeoning romantic tension, are forced to share a single bed.

The halfway point. So far, we’re four days in and my devious schemes are already proving fruitful. The tension between Theo and Y/N has been off the charts lately, but it just needs one final little push. After my minion informed me that Theo has been cheating the system by sleeping on the couch, it’s time to take away that barrier once and for all.

Fourth Year, Slytherin Dormitories

“I look ridiculous,” you murmured at your reflection.

“Ridiculously hot,” Pansy corrected.

Behind you, she curled a section of your hair with her wand, letting it fall in soft tendrils while you fretted in front of the mirror. Tonight was the night. Ever since the start of term, the Yule Ball was all anyone could talk about. At first, you were just as excited as the rest of your classmates, but the closer it got, the more anxious you felt.

You swallowed thickly, wondering why in the bloody hell you allowed Pansy to rope you into buying this dress. Examining your reflection, you smoothed down the front of the baby blue ball gown, fingers trailing over the plunging neckline delicately covered in white lace.

The dress was a lot more daring than anything in your wardrobe, but Pansy insisted. She was convinced that it was perfect for you, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. The ball gown certainly left little to the imagination. It cinched your waist like a lover’s embrace, the blue fabric resting right above your left thigh in a high slit that accentuated your legs before flowing into a dreamy tulle train. Still, you couldn’t deny that it was beautiful.

“This dress was made for you, babe.” Pansy declared as she finished pinning your hair up. “Graham is going to die when he sees you.”

At the mention of your date, you blanched. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Graham. Since the beginning of fourth year, you’ve gone on a handful of dates with him and they’ve all been relatively pleasant, but that was the problem. There was no spark, no excitement, no butterflies. No matter how hard you willed it into existence.

There was only one person who made you feel that way, but that was a complication for another day. Theo already loathed Graham enough — truly, he loathed any guy that showed interest in you, but Graham had been the first one that your best friend hadn’t successfully deterred. When he asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball, it only seemed natural to accept. Now that it loomed close, you felt sick to your stomach.

Still, you tampered down the anxiety and turned to your friend. If anyone had a right to dread the night ahead, it was Pansy.

“Will you be alright tonight?”

In a rare display of vulnerability, Pansy's smile dropped as she met your gaze in the mirror. Instantly, you pulled her to the edge of her bed and knelt down next to her. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can stay in and watch movies. Just say the word and I’ll cancel, Pans.”

Just a few days ago, she had broken things off with Padma after the Ravenclaw announced that she would be attending the Yule Ball with Ron bloody Weasley. It came as a shock, given the fact that Padma and Pansy had been seeing each other since term started.

You thought things were going well. Pansy had been out to your group of friends for a couple of months now and while everyone had been supportive of her journey, Padma was reluctant to make things public. Her own twin hadn’t even been aware of their relationship. You understood that coming out looked differently for everyone, but it broke your heart to listen to Pansy doubt herself. She didn’t deserve to be kept as a secret.

“And forfeit the chance to show my ex-girlfriend what she’s missing out on?” Pansy said, sniffing haughtily and squaring her shoulders back. “Not bloody likely.”

“There’s the Pansy Parkinson I know.”

Much to her annoyance, you pulled Pansy into a hug. Sighing, she relented and squeezed back as you grinned. “You know, I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart. Patil’s an absolute idiot for ever letting you go. You’re the smartest, funniest, and hottest witch I know. You’re the motherfucking Pansy Parkinson. Any witch in this castle would kill to have you as their girlfriend.”

Your friend chuckled. “Thank you, Y/N. It feels strange to be on the other end of a motivational speech. Does it always feel this way when I do it?”

“Well, you tend to be a little bit more forceful,” you teased. “But I love you for it.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

Just as you pulled away, a sharp knock startled you out of the tender moment. You and Pansy stared at each other.

“Come in,” Pansy called.

Draco stumbled through the door, his platinum blonde hair uncharacteristically tousled and his pale complexion tinged with a deep flush. The Malfoy heir looked like he just finished sprinting through the castle. “It’s Theo,” he breathed.

At the mention of your best friend, you sprang to your feet. “What happened?”

“He just received a patronus from Rome,” Draco explained. “Nonna is in the hospital.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Is she alright?”

“Theo didn’t say much, but he’s with the headmaster right now. They’ve given him permission to floo to Rome.”

“I have to — I have to go —” You couldn’t breathe. Fear threatened to overcome you entirely, but you fought against it. Theo needed you. “I can’t let him be alone.”

“I know,” Draco agreed. “Professor Snape said he’s leaving within the hour, so we have to hurry.”

As quickly as possible, the three of you rushed out into the corridor. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble tile echoed as you and Pansy followed Draco’s lead. In his haste, Draco stomped down the staircase and nearly collided with the person waiting at the bottom step.

At the landing, Graham stood at attention. Your date was wearing a perfectly tailored deep blue dress robe with shiny leather shoes, which made him appear taller than he actually was. His dark hair was slicked back and away from his green eyes that now roamed over your figure. In his hands was a delicately crafted corsage, presumably for you.

“There you are,” said Graham. He straightened the front of his robes, impatience flickering through his expression. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“I’m so sorry, Graham, but now is not a good time.” You rushed out as Draco tapped his watch, signaling the hour. Theo could be stepping through the floo any moment now. “I have to go. It’s an emergency.”

Graham frowned. “What’s happened? What do you mean you have to go?”

“Theo’s grandmother is in the hospital. I don’t have time to explain, but please know I’m very sorry to miss the ball.”

“Miss the ball?” He repeated in disbelief. “You’re ditching me for Nott?”

Graham was well aware of Theo’s dislike of him. In fact, the feeling was mutual. He didn’t like that the two of you were so close, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

“Of course she is! This is a family emergency, you twat. Y/N would never leave Theo alone at a time like this.” Draco growled, frustration written all over his face. “Now get out of the bloody way, Montague.”

“This can’t be happening.”

“Look, we can talk about it when we get back, but I really have to go.”

“No,” Graham firmly stated. He gripped your wrist and held you in place. Fury like no other surged through you. “You have to choose. It’s either me or Theo.”

Without thinking, you snatched your arm away and leveled Graham with an icy glare. “Theo. I pick Theo. You may be my date for tonight, but he’s — Theo is — Theo is my person.”

You didn’t wait for a reaction. You couldn’t care less about the fallout. Graham should’ve known better than to give you an ultimatum. In your mind, there was no choice other than Theo. You would always pick him. Shoving Montague out of the way, you sprinted through the castle with Pansy and Draco following closely behind. When you reached the headmaster’s office, the phoenix statue standing guard over the entrance gave you pause.

“How do we get in?” you asked frantically.

“I don’t know,” Draco admitted. He examined the stairs, looking for any sort of opening.

Pansy stomped on the spiral staircase in an attempt to get it moving, but nothing happened. With determination, you plucked your wand from your dress pocket and instructed your friends to move. If you had to bombarda the bloody thing, you would.

“Drop your wand, Miss Y/L/N.”

You whirled around to find the head of your house staring down at you in disapproval. Professor Snape stood between you and the door, his impenetrable gaze sliding from your wand to the phoenix statue. You held your chin high and your wand even higher. In all your years at Hogwarts, you had never defied Snape so openly, but you were determined to get into that office one way or another.

“What exactly is your plan?” Snape asked with his arms crossed. “Decimate the headmaster’s beloved statue to gain entrance?”

“If it came to that, then yes.” You held your wand steady even though anxiety and apprehension brewed within you like a malevolent storm.

Draco shot to his feet. “She just needs to see Theo, professor.”

Snape appraised you for a moment. You made no indication of standing down. “Follow me, then. The headmaster has been expecting you.”

Without further explanation, Snape climbed onto the spiral staircase. Pansy and Draco squeezed you into a hug and wished you luck. You promised to send them word as soon as you could. As the stairs began to ascend, you watched anxiously as their faces disappeared from view.

Inside the headmaster’s office, Theo paced back and forth while Dumbledore attempted to comfort him. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a baby blue vest and matching tie, the latter of which now hung loosely around his neck as he tugged at the silk. The sight of it was heart wrenching. Even though his expression was cold and distant, you could tell that Theo was worried beyond belief. His fear was as palpable as your own.

“Teddy?”

Relief washed over Theo as he turned to find you standing before him. Your best friend gravitated towards you, his lower lip trembling as you surged forward to gather him in your arms.

“You came,” he murmured in a broken whisper.

“Of course I did,” you assured him as you rubbed his back. “I wouldn’t leave you alone at a time like this.”

Theo took a deep breath as you cradled his cheek. His gaze roamed over your dress, apprehension written all over his features. “I’m so sorry, fragolina. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I know how much you were looking forward to the ball. Fuck, Montague must be furious —”

“To hell with Montague,” you stated firmly. “You’re more important.”

Your best friend slid his hand into yours, squeezing tightly as he faced Dumbledore and Snape. “We’re ready to go now.”

Within a few moments, you found yourself stepping through the lobby of a hospital. Healers milled about in the large, brightly lit room, rushing off to care for their patients. The sight of the yellow robed witches and wizards gave Theo pause. You could only imagine that their presence brought forth traumatic memories of his mum’s frequent trips to St. Mungo’s.

Steeling yourself, you marched right up to the front desk and greeted the elderly witch sitting behind the counter. She gave a wide berth at your overly formal attire, but smiled politely when she caught herself.

“Buonasera, siamo qui per vedere Serafina Conti.”

“Qual è il tuo rapporto con il paziente?”

“Grandson,” Theo rasped. “I’m her grandson.”

The healer checked the records, her eyes skimming over the patient charts. “Serafina is under heavy sedation. The rest of your family has been contacted and should be arriving soon.”

“What exactly happened?”

“Your grandmother contracted a case of Forest Cough. Typically, the cough is very mild. Had Serafina sought treatment earlier this week, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but since she waited, it developed into a fever.”

You swallowed thickly. “Will she be alright?”

“Her healer has her on a dose of magical antibiotics, which also acts as a mild sedative. With a few hours of rest, Serafina should recover quite quickly. If any other symptoms arise, we do advise that she seek treatment as soon as possible. The worst thing you can do is wait.”

“Thank you so much.” The weight on your heart lessened at the reassurance. Nonna would be alright. That was all that mattered. “Could we please see her?”

The witch nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”

The two of you followed the healer through a long corridor. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow color that matched the healer’s robes, but even its sunny shade couldn’t mask the cold and sterile feeling of the hospital. Beside you, Theo tensed as you passed room after room of patients, his gaze lingering on the still bodies within.

You squeezed his hand, distracting him from his own memories. “It’s alright,” you murmured. “Nonna is going to be alright, Teddy.”

Theo tore his gaze away from a pale witch laying still on a stretcher, his expression shifting from worry to relief. He nodded in agreement and squeezed your hand back.

Just then, the elderly witch led you into a private room. She poked her head through the door, alerting nonna of your presence. “Serafina, there’s visitors here to see you.”

As she ushered you in, you couldn’t help but notice how small and fragile nonna looked. To you, Serafina Conti had always been larger than life, but right now, you realized that even a strong woman like her wasn’t invulnerable. Be that as it may, nonna haughtily sat up in her bed and crossed her arms as though she owned the place.

With a look of disapproval, she tutted at the both of you. “Why are you here?’

“Aldo sent a patronus,” Theo explained. “He said you were in the hospital. We were worried sick!”

“You know how your cousin loves his theatrics,” Nonna said with a nonchalant wave. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“They said they had to sedate you, that you had Forest Cough and you waited so long that it turned into a fever —”

“The healers are overzealous, as usual. All this fuss over a cough. It’s ridiculous, really.”

“Stop treating it like a joke!” Theo snapped, his voice echoing off the walls. You had never heard him speak to his grandmother like this, which told you how truly upset he was about the entire situation. “I could’ve lost you, nonna. I can’t — I can’t go through that again.”

Nonna’s expression softened. She knew more than anyone how the loss of her daughter nearly broke Theo. “I’m alright, Theodore. I apologize for worrying you, but I promise that everything is fine.” Theo’s shoulders slumped, the tension easing from his body as his grandmother held his hand. “Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Who’s going to help plan you and Y/N’s wedding?”

A choked sob broke free from your throat. You hadn’t even realized that you were holding in tears until this moment. For the past hour, you were focused on doing whatever it took to get to Rome. Now that you were standing before nonna, the possibility of losing her crashed over you all at once.

You sniffled and wiped an errant tear away as she took your hand. “Don’t cry, piccolina. It’ll take more than a silly little cough to take me out.”

“We were so worried,” you confessed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m alive and kicking,” she joked. In a softer tone, she said, “Thank you for accompanying Theodore. As upset as I am that you both skipped the Yule Ball to be here, I am glad I got to see the two of you like this. You make a beautiful couple.”

“Nonna,” Theo groaned. “Now is really not the time.”

Nonna rolled her eyes, ignoring her grandson. “So, tell me. When did Theodore finally pluck up the courage to ask you to be his date?”

Theo sighed, knowing that there was no stopping his grandmother. He busied himself with tidying up her surroundings, flinging the curtains open to reveal a stunning view of the city. Rome was a beauty to behold, its ancient streets thrumming with excitement even at this late hour. In the distance, you could make out the Sistine Chapel under the glittering stars.

“I was actually supposed to go with someone else.” Up until this point, you had completely forgotten all about Montague. You knew you’d have to deal with that when you returned, but he seemed rather insignificant given all that had occurred. “Graham Montague.”

Nonna wrinkled her nose. The gesture told you all you needed to know about her opinion of him. “If you were going with the Montague boy, then why are you and my grandson matching?”

Your gaze flickered up to Theo’s baby blue vest and tie, which were both a perfect match to the color of your ball gown. “I don’t know, actually. Teddy never saw my dress. I might have mentioned that I was wearing blue, but not the exact shade.”

“This is the shade of blue that you always say you look best in,” Theo explained. “It’s your favorite color. Everyone knows that.”

“Nobody knows that.”

“Well, I know that.”

Graham certainly hadn’t. You had shown him the exact color, yet he still picked the wrong shade to wear. You thought that perhaps boys were just clueless when it came to this sort of thing. After all, blue was blue. But Theo knew. Of course he knew.

An amused smirk appeared on nonna’s face as she watched the interaction. She was outright grinning when Theo busied himself with her pillows, fluffing them quite aggressively to hide the flush on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but smile.

An hour later, Theo’s cousin Aldo finally arrived from Vallara. It had been a nightmare to journey to Rome, given that the floo station in the countryside closed earlier than most. Aldo had to travel to Amalfi by apparating, which took quite the toll on him. Regardless, he was glad to see that nonna was in stable condition.

The rest of Theo’s cousins piled into the small room, nearly causing a fire hazard from the sheer amount of people packed in such a tiny space. The two of you gave them time to fuss over nonna, happily changing into the extra clothes they had brought. The ball gown was a feat to remove, the tulle and silk nearly suffocating you as you tried to maneuver out of it in the bathroom stall. In the end, you prevailed. Despite the fact that Theo’s sweats and hoodie nearly swallowed you whole, you were thankful to be in comfier clothing.

After chatting with his cousins and ensuring that nonna would be properly cared for, the two of you said your goodbyes. You wished you could stay longer, but it was time to return to the castle. Under the silver moon, you and Theo walked through the empty streets, marveling at the beauty of Rome.

“I never got to tell you,” Theo said suddenly. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Looked,” you corrected. “No offense, but my dress was a little more fashionable than this outfit.”

“You could wear a plastic bag and I’d still think that you’re beautiful, bella.”

You flushed at the compliment, hiding its effect behind a curtain of hair. “Thank you, Teddy.”

“No, thank you. I couldn’t have gotten through all of that without you.” Theo took your hand, twirling the emerald ring on your finger with a small smile. “I’m sorry that I messed things up for you with Montague.”

“Don’t lie, Teddy. You’re not sorry.”

Theo smiled sheepishly. “You’re right. I’m not.”

“It’s alright. It probably wouldn’t have worked out between us anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t think he really knew me,” you mused. “He couldn’t even remember my favorite color.”

“What an idiot,” teased Theo. “Still, you must be bummed about missing the ball. I know you were looking forward to it.”

“There will be other balls,” you responded. “This was more important.”

Theo lifted your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “I’m really glad you’re here with me, bella.”

“Me too, Teddy,” you whispered softly. “Me too.”

Day Four, The Clay Cliffs

Laughter emanated from your phone while you recounted the events of the past few days to your parents. When you described the trip to the Temple of Cupid, your mum teared up as your dad comforted her in the back garden. The two of them were having afternoon tea when you called, which was the perfect time to chat and catch up.

Attempting to lighten the mood, your dad peered into the screen. “Is that the infamous convertible?”

You grinned and panned around the baby blue car, which you were currently lounging in as you waited for the rest of your friends to arrive. Theo insisted on driving up the Clay Cliffs, while Pansy and the boys rented bikes to take the more scenic route. You had absolutely no desire to struggle up the cliffside, so you opted to accompany your best friend instead.

As if on cue, Theo bounded back into the car after begrudgingly helping a group of tourists with directions. “Hi Laurel! Hi Alistair!’”

Your parents waved as Theo slipped into the driver seat. He grinned into the camera before snatching your favorite heart shaped sunglasses off your head and placing them over his eyes. “Hi, Theo. Congratulations on the car. She’s a beauty!”

“Theo hasn’t hit a single curb our whole trip. The driving lessons finally paid off, dad.”

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Beside you, Theo flushed and shyly thanked your dad. Shifting in his seat, he grabbed the phone from your hand and squeezed himself into frame. No matter how many times you explained the technology of video calls to him, Theo still wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t a form of magic.

“The garden looks great, Alistair.” Theo lowered his sunglasses and squinted at the screen. “The cherry tree looks like it’s blooming.”

You furrowed your brow. “When did you add a cherry tree?”

“The start of summer,” your dad answered. “Theo helped me plant it before he left for Vallara.”

“He also cooked us a fantastic dinner,” your mum added. She looked wistful, probably fantasizing about your best friend’s cooking. “I still dream about that carbonara.”

“I promise to cook it for you the next time I visit.”

“Speaking of which,” your dad interjected. “Are we still on for Sunday tea when you’re back in town?”

“Of course,” Theo assured. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You guys are having tea without me?” you asked incredulously.

Your mum nodded. “Well, we have to do something to fill our time while our little girl is off at Oxford.”

Theo nudged you, smiling. “Don’t worry, bella. Now that I have my car, I can come and kidnap you during the weekends.”

You beamed. “Thanks, Teddy.”

Just then, you heard bells ringing through the clearing. The rest of your friends had finally caught up, racing up the narrow trail in colorful bikes.

Mattheo honked his horn, the wind plastering his curls to his cheek as he pedaled uphill. “Come on lovebirds, it’s time. Last one to dive off the cliff owes the group a round tonight!”

Your mum let out a surprised squeak. “Please tell me you’re not jumping headfirst off a cliff.”

“I would, but then I’d be lying.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Hm, what was that, mum? I think you’re breaking up.”

Theo snickered as your mum began to lecture the two of you. Fortunately, your dad talked her down before she could continue her rant. “Bye, sweetheart, have fun! You too, son. Take care of our little girl. Love you both.”

Your best friend waved at your parents, a grin present on his face. “Always! Love you, miss you. See you soon!”

“Love you mum and dad. Talk to you later!.”

After bidding your parents goodbye, you and Theo made your way up to the top of the Clay Cliffs. At the peak, Mattheo waved you towards the cliff’s edge. Cautiously, you made your way over to where the rest of the boys stood. The four of them were busy placing bets on who could do the most flips before landing.

Pansy rolled her eyes. “Just make sure you don’t break your neck. It would put a damper on my holiday.”

“My money’s on you,” you stated as you draped an arm over her shoulder. You don’t know why the boys bothered. Pansy was by far the most athletic out of all of you.

“Are you making the jump this year?”

Your stomach flipped as you peered over the cliffside. The drop was at least fifty feet, which was intimidating enough without your paralyzing fear of heights. Still, you were determined to face this phobia of yours once and for all. You didn’t know when you’d get another chance to share this moment with your favorite people. Despite your determination, it didn’t make the task less daunting.

Steeling yourself, you nodded. “Yes. It would be a shame to come all this way and not do it.”

Pansy smiled and squeezed your hand. “You’ve got this, babe.”

The support gave you a little boost of confidence, especially after the boys assured you that they’d all be waiting at the bottom and cheering you on. You watched in anticipation as Blaise and Draco went first, their dives perfectly synchronized as they flipped two times in the air before slicing through the water.

“Showoffs,” Mattheo muttered as he kicked off his shoes. He squinted at the waves below, no doubt calculating if he can beat Blaise and Draco.

“You’ve got this, Matt,” you encouraged. “You’re by far the most obnoxious competitive person I know. Show them how it’s done.”

“Thanks, I think?” Mattheo responded with an amused chuckle. He raised a brow as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “Mind giving me a good luck kiss?”

“I will kick you off this damn cliff,” Theo threatened.

With a smirk, Mattheo saluted the two of you before joining your friends below. Just as you predicted, he executed three flips on the way down. Enzo went shortly after and tied with Mattheo, much to the latter’s annoyance. Pansy gracefully followed with a series of four flips that had you cheering and whistling.

Finally, it was your turn. You slowly peeled your dress off and carefully arranged it next to everyone else’s clothes. Theo tugged his shirt off before flinging it in the same general direction. You shook your head as you folded it up for him, rolling your eyes fondly while he apologized with a sheepish grin.

Those familiar watercolor eyes snagged on your blue dotted bikini, the heat of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but return the favor, cheeks heating as you shamelessly scanned Theo’s toned chest and chiseled abs. When he was younger, Theo often complained about his lanky build, but you liked how tall and lean he was. He’d certainly grown into it now. As if those mesmerizing eyes and sex tousled waves and impish grin wasn’t enough, Theo also had to be funny and kind and sweet.

Truly, it was unfair to the rest of the world.

“Are you nervous, bella?”

You shook off your daydreams and returned to reality. “A little.” You made the mistake of looking down at the waves below. From this point of view, everything seemed that much more terrifying. “Is it silly that I’m scared?”

Theo gently grabbed your hand, prying you away from anxiously twisting your emerald ring. “I don’t think it’s silly at all,” he replied. “It’s normal to feel scared.”

“But you’re not scared of anything.”

Your best friend chuckled. “Are you kidding? I’m scared of everything, all the time. I just act like I’m not.”

“Really?”

Theo nodded. “Do you remember the first time I met the guys?”

“At Malfoy Manor, right? When we were eight.”

“I was so scared that they wouldn’t like me, that they wouldn’t understand my accent, but mostly I was scared that you’d figure out that they were funnier and smarter and cooler than I was and I’d lose my best friend.”

Your expression softened. “You could never lose me, Teddy.”

“I know that now,” Theo said with a smile. “But back then, I was terrified. Until you told me that we were a package deal. That if they didn’t like me, then you didn’t like them either because we came as a pair. You couldn’t have one without the other.”

“I was only stating the obvious.”

“Maybe, but you don’t know what that meant to me. Besides mum, no one has ever stood up for me like that. I remember you threatening to push Flint into the garden fountain when he said I sounded funny even though he was older and bigger than the both of us combined.”

The memory made you chuckle. “If only I had that courage now.”

“You do,” Theo assured you. “My point is, you’re the bravest person I know. I’m never scared when I’m with you.”

“You’ve never told me that before,” you said softly, sniffling a little. You couldn’t help it. Theo knew exactly what to say to put your mind at ease.

“I was saving it for the view,” Theo replied cheekily. “It really gives it that theatrical effect.”

Though you could still feel your heart beating against your ribcage, your anxiety lessened. You squeezed Theo’s hand, mostly to remind yourself that he was here with you. His presence always grounded you.

“Will you jump with me?” you asked shyly.

Theo’s smile was like a shot of espresso, warm and soothing as it surged through your nervous system like caffeine. You could see why people said that coffee was as addictive as the next hard drug, because you were pretty sure that you’d chase this high for the rest of your life.

Your heart soared as he squeezed your hand back. “Of course, fragolina,” he declared proudly. “I’d be offended if you didn’t pick me to do something so stupid and reckless with.”

“You’re quite right. The most stupid and reckless things I’ve ever done in my life have included you in some way or another.”

Theo grinned and kissed the back of your knuckles. “You’re stalling.”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“We’ll do it together,” he said. “Like everything in life. On the count of three, we jump, okay?”

“Okay.”

“One…two…”

“Wait, jump on three or after three?”

“Now!”

With a scream, you and Theo broke out into a sprint and leapt off the cliffside. Your stomach turned inside out and upside down while your heart galloped in your chest. The adrenaline kicked in as you plunged through the water, the waves splashing all around you as you kicked back up to the surface.

It was scary, it was exhilarating, but most of all, it was reassuring because when you broke free, Theo was still holding your hand.

Later that night, you found yourself ducking into the mouth of a cave. Behind you, the boys grumbled as they crouched, nearly hitting their heads on the jagged rocks. Draco mumbled something about sullying his expensive silk button down, while Enzo mocked his cousin with an overly snooty accent.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Blaise asked warily.

“Have I ever steered you wrong, Zabini?”

“Do you want me to answer honestly?”

To be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame Blaise for doubting your best friend. Theo promised to bring you and your friends to the hottest party in town only to lead you into the heart of a cave.

Theo rolled his eyes. “Just a little more,” he urged. “Then you’ll see that Theodore Nott always delivers. Isn’t that right, bella?”

You scoffed. “Well, Theodore Nott needs to deliver a little faster, because my feet are absolutely killing me. Had I known we were going spelunking, I would’ve opted out of heels.”

“I second that,” Pansy huffed in annoyance. “I’m honestly considering throwing my stiletto at your head, Nott.”

“Keep your shoes to yourself, ladies,” Theo warned as he led you further into the cave.

In the distance, you could hear the muffled sound of music and the thump of the bass echoing through the rock. You gaped as the crowd came into view. Lights flashed along the cavern, pulsing to the beat of the music. The inside of the cave looked like a club, complete with a DJ, a fully stocked bar, and a makeshift dance floor.

“How did you even know about this?” Draco asked.

“I was invited by a local,” Theo responded slyly. “Speaking of which, here’s our host now.”

The local was none other than Dante, who was now strolling up to your group with a tray full of limoncello. You watched in confusion as Theo exchanged cheek kisses with Dante as though they were old friends.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Pansy greeted.

“Indeed,” Dante agreed. “I must admit, I was surprised when Theo called me up after your visit to the vineyard. I got the feeling that he wasn’t too fond of me.”

“What would ever make you think that?” quipped your best friend.

Dante chuckled. “After he proposed a fresh start, I couldn’t help but agree. Besides, there is no way I’d pass up the chance to show you the hottest party in town. Welcome to Vallara’s most exclusive club, my friends.”

“Wow,” Mattheo exclaimed. “This is sick.”

Enzo nodded in agreement. “Is that a body paint station? Did that girl just take off her top — where are you going, Mattheo? Hey, wait for me!”

You chuckled as the two boys hustled to the other side of the room. Theo rolled his eyes and apologized for their behavior, but Dante merely waved it off before passing out the limoncello.

“To new friends,” Theo proposed.

Dante clinked his glass with his. “To new friends!”

The limoncello was dangerously sweet and smooth, its tart aftertaste causing your face to pucker. The drinks flowed after that as Dante introduced your group of friends to the crowd. For the most part, everyone in attendance was a local, which made you feel honored to be welcomed into their midst.

As always, Theo was a natural at working the crowd. Your best friend seemed to have taken your advice to heart, because he and Dante were currently laughing and chatting with yesterday’s not-so-great first impression clearly forgotten. From the glimpses you stole from the dance floor, Theo was currently trying to play wingman, talking Dante up to a very handsome local. He took the job quite seriously, politely declining any attention thrown his way.

“How is it fair that Nott is turning girls away while none of them will even look at me?” complained Mattheo.

“It’s because you reek of desperation.” Draco responded honestly, brushing off a nonexistent piece of lint from his shirt.

“And he doesn’t?” Mattheo exclaimed. “Theo’s been following Y/N around like a lost puppy all summer. Hell, all his life.”

“That’s not desperation, you dolt,” Pansy scoffed. “That’s love.”

You rolled your eyes. “Theo’s not in love with —” The protest died in your throat as Theo caught your eye from across the room. His face lit up when he spotted you like you were the beacon he’d been searching for in the dark.

Mattheo ignored your comment entirely. “So if I fall in love, girls will flock to me?”

Draco shook his head. “That’s not the point. When you fall in love, no one else matters. You can’t even see anyone but them. You just know deep down inside that you’ve found your person.”

“Y/N.” You startled as Theo hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“What?” asked Mattheo.

“My person,” Theo clarified. “It’s Y/N. That’s what Draco was talking about, right?”

Draco smirked. “Told you, Riddle.”

The shit eating grins remained on your friend’s faces even during the walk home from the cave. It didn’t help that Theo insisted on giving you a piggyback ride through the cobblestone streets after one too many complaints about your aching feet. As he set you down on the bathroom counter, Theo shook his head.

“I will never understand why you choose to punish yourself this way, bella.”

You shrugged, watching as your best friend removed the death traps from your feet. “Beauty is pain, Teddy.”

“Must be why I’m always aching,” Theo remarked with a dramatic sigh. “Pretty hurts.”

You snorted as you jumped off the counter and began your ten step skincare routine. Theo traded places with you, swinging his long legs while he handed you product after product. He grinned like a little kid when you swiped toner, moisturizer, and serum onto his face. Not that he needed it. Irritatingly enough, his skin was clear as day without the aid of expensive products.

After you finished brushing your teeth together, the two of you changed into pajamas and settled for the night. You buried yourself in bed, sighing at the cold sheets and fluffy pillows. Theo made his way over to the love seat that he’d been sleeping on for the past few nights, but it was gone. Nowhere to be found. He stared at the empty spot in complete bafflement.

“Is the couch…”

“Yup.”

“Completely gone?”

“Mhm."

“Disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Seems like it.”

“Oh god,” you groaned. “I’m sorry, Teddy. I have a feeling this is Pansy’s doing. She’s been scheming all summer. First the honeymoon suite and then this.”

“It’s okay, fragolina,” Theo assured you. “I can just sleep on the living room couch.”

You shook your head vehemently. “You shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“I’m fine, bella.”

“Theo,” you whisper, your voice disrupting the blissful bubble of silence. “I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.”

Realization flooded Theo’s features. He smiled softly, shy and sweet as he made his way over to you. Making room for him, you threw the blankets back and watched as he crawled into bed beside you. Theo settled on his side, his head resting on the pillow as he faced you.

You mirrored his action, suddenly feeling vulnerable as those piercing blue eyes flitted over you. “Hi.”

Theo grinned. “Hi.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment. The serene sounds of the countryside lapped all around you; the gentle breeze swaying gently through the open window, the soothing lull of the waves kissing the shore, all of it syncing with the rhythmic beating of your heart.

The moonlight streamed into the room in glittering strips of silver, its light bathing Theo in its ethereal glow. His fluffy hair, his boyish grin, his sleepy eyes. You had never seen anything more beautiful and breathtaking in your life.

“You’re my person, too.”

The smile on his face would’ve put the stars to shame. The gravity of it was magnetizing, drawing you in like an inevitable force.

“Do you know that you’re my favorite person in this entire world?”

“I had a feeling,” Theo teased. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, preparing a sarcastic response, but you stopped short when he leaned closer. His knuckles brushed against your cheek. “I’d say the same, but it seems like an understatement to call you my favorite person in the world when you are my world.”

“Teddy…”

“Too cheesy?” he asked with a boyish grin.

“No, it’s perfect.” You took his face in your hands, cataloging every freckle and mole as though everything about him wasn’t already seared into your mind. “You’re perfect.”

You didn’t know who moved first. It might’ve been him, it might’ve been you, but at the end of the day, all that mattered was that his lips were on yours. As Theo kissed you, you realized then that you’d never truly known what it meant to hunger, to crave — not truly. Not like this.

The kiss itself was soft and gentle and sweet, but it was also all-consuming. The pressure of his lips against yours brought you relief. It was the breaking of clouds, the pattering of rain, the downpour after an endless drought.

Your fingers slipped through his silky locks as Theo tugged you closer, his hands snaking around you in a tight embrace as though he was afraid you might disappear. You wanted to tell him that you weren’t going anywhere. You couldn’t even if you tried, but you were too drunk on him — his scent, his touch, his kisses.

This, you thought, was exactly what you were made for.

Theo pulled away, his gaze tender as it flickered over your face. You touched your fingers to your lips, already missing the absence of his kisses.

“I’ve been waiting for that all my life,” Theo whispered in awe.

“I had a feeling,” you teased back.

“I like when you’re cheeky,” Theo chuckled, burying his face in your neck. He placed a kiss under your jaw. “And I like how soft your skin is.” Another kiss on your cheek. “I like how red and flushed you get when I compliment you.”

Theo pressed his lips against yours Once, twice, three times. Just because he could. Just because he wanted to savor the taste of your cherry chapstick, to swallow the soft little sigh that escaped your mouth every time he kissed you, to acclimate himself to the new reality of getting to snog his best friend whenever and wherever he wanted.

“I just really like you.”

You smiled into the kiss. “I really like you too, Teddy.”

The confession was the tip of the iceberg of how you felt for him, but it would do for now. As Theo held you in his arms, you listened to the rhythmic pulse echoing in your chest.

Your heart thumped to the beat of his name. Theo, Theo, Theo.

It always had and it always will.

237 notes · View notes

insphoeration · 10 months ago

Text

Midnight Roses - Part 5

Eris x Reader

Summary: Reader is a librarian from Velaris and part of the Inner Circle. While working with Eris to finally kill Beron and make him High Lord, the Autumn Court heir discovers their mating bond. Warnings: Angst, fluff, insults Word count: 6.4K

Eris stood to the side, watching every member of the Inner Circle, taking in the various expressions of surprise, anger, and disbelief etched on their faces as they caught sight of him. Azriel looked as neutral as always, Nesta was smirking, Feyre's lip gently twitched upwards in a smile at the sight of you and Rhysand seemed mainly worried. Cassian was... well, he was being Cassian.

“Cauldron, you reek of him.” The warrior said and wrinkled his nose. Eris's shoulders tensed infinitesimally at Cassian's comment, but he said nothing in reply. You watched silently as Rhysand's eyes moved from Cassian to you, taking in the subtle shift in your scent. The High Lord's eyes narrowed faintly, the only indication that he had noticed it as well. Rhysand most likely suspected that you were mates the second you stepped into the house, but he didn't say anything, except, “are you okay?”

You swallowed drily, then nodded. “Yes, I’m fine.” Rhysand regarded you for a moment, his gaze assessing and searching, as if looking for any signs of injury or distress. When you confirmed that you were indeed fine, he nodded stiffly, his eyes flickering over to Eris momentarily before he spoke.

“Sit.” It was a terse order, delivered in a tone that left no room for argument. Eris and you obeyed the High Lord and sat down next to each other.

“Should we start with the mission or with you two?” Rhysand asked bluntly. As you and Eris settled into the couch, the tension in the room spiked almost palpably. Feyre's expression was carefully neutral as she glanced between you and Rhysand. Eris's face remained devoid of any emotion, a mask of apathy as he spoke. “Let's start with the mission.”

You nodded and began. “Thesan found out that Eris is working with us in an attempt to kill Beron. He offered his support under the condition that Eris transforms Autumn into a better court. He handed us a vial of the midnight rose nectar as an offering yesterday.” Cassian's eyes widened momentarily, his lips parting as if he were about to speak, but he managed to hold his tongue. Rhysand's expression remained a careful mask of indifference, though his lips pressed together in a thin line. Azriel was the only one whose face hardly changed at all– only one of his eyebrows raised slightly.

“So, I'd say the mission went well.” You continued, when nobody replied. Rhysand nodded slowly at your words, his eyes still fixed on your face as he digested the information you'd given. “Yes, it... seems that there was successful progress.” The silence that followed was heavy and expectant, tension filling the atmosphere like a thick fog. You looked at Nesta. She was the only one who already knew that Eris was your mate, although you were certain that if she knew, Cassian must know as well. You were looking at both of them for any semblance of reassurance. Cassian was staring daggers at Eris, a dark scowl staining his face as he watched the Autumn Heir intently. Nesta, however, was surprisingly calm, her eyes flickering to Eris for a moment before returning to you. She gave you a tiny, barely noticeable nod.

Rhysand glanced at you with his signature half-smile and asked, “Should we continue with you two then?”

Eris shifted beside you, his body tensing almost imperceptibly as he no doubt braced himself for the conversation that would follow. As much as he appeared calm and collected, you could sense his tension, feel the way his heart pounded a little faster against his chest. You cleared your throat softly, preparing yourself to speak. “Sure.”

Rhysand looked between the two of you, his expression serious. ”So... when did this happen?”

“First night at Dawn Court, but I've been in love with him for a while.” You knew your friends. There was no use in lying, it would only make everything worse. So you'd be honest– dead honest. You glanced at Nesta, then the rest. Surprise flickered across Feyre's face, her eyes widening momentarily as she took in the revelation. Azriel's expression remained calm and impassive. Cassian, on the other hand, averted his eyes to the floor and you knew then that Nesta must have told him about your bond. There was a moment of silence as the Inner Circle absorbed your words. Finally, Feyre asked the question that all of them were thinking. “How long is a while?”

“I can't speak for Eris,” you said with a glance at him, “but I have... not been able to stop thinking about him since we first met at the ball in the Hewn City a few months ago. When we decided to work with him.”

All eyes turned to Eris as the others waited for his response. “From the moment I first saw her.” His voice was quiet but clear, and his words were spoken with such honesty that it caught everyone off guard. The quiet that followed was so thick you could cut it with a dagger until Rhysand spoke again. “And when did you two find out you were mates?”

You breathed in shakily. “Eris found out during one of the meetings shortly before we left for Dawn Court. I found out during our first morning there.” There was another lull as your friends took in this new information. You looked around the room. Taking in every single face from your friends, your found family that you'd do anything for. “I won't apologize for falling in love with him.” The left corner of Nesta’s mouth ticked upwards at your declaration, her eyes flicking to Cassian in clear amusement. Cassian, who had been watching with his gaze cast to the floor, now lifted his head to look at you. His voice was measured as he spoke. “Do you trust him?”

“With my life.”

Cassian's eyes darted over to Eris, who met his gaze with a defiant, unconcerned stare, before returning to you. “And if given the option between him and us, who would you choose?”

You swallowed hard and silver lined your eyes. “I don't think I could ever forgive you, if you'd make me choose.”

Cassian's expression softened as he watched your eyes glisten. He opened his mouth to speak, but Feyre interrupted him before he could. She looked at you imploringly, her eyes wide and earnest. “And what if he hurt you?”

“Can I show you something?” You asked the High Lady. Feyre took a moment to register the question, confusion lacing her face. You lowered your mental shields and let her see the memory from the morning you took a bath with Eris in Dawn Court. Your body nestled into his chest. You telling him that he's the only chance for Autumn Court to become a better place and wanting him to promise to you, not to sacrifice his life for yours under any circumstances. Then you show her his answer. His unrelenting, firm 'no.' And the outburst that followed, telling you that he'd do anything to keep you from harm and that he will not promise to let you die. It was an incredibly intimate moment, but it was the first time you felt Eris sincerely, deeply and unconditionally care for you. Feyre's eyes widened as you let her see through the memory. She was silent for a moment as she processed everything she had seen, her lips parting softly as if she were about to say something. Finally, Rhysand spoke, his voice deep and calm. His eyes moving over to you. “Can I see it as well?”

You lowered your mental shields again and Rhysand entered your mind to see the memory you just showed Feyre. Once it was finished, Rhysand pulled out of your mind, a quiet exhale leaving his lips. You noticed the shift in his face, the twitch of his lips that betrayed a hint of surprise. He was silent for a moment, but his eyes remained on your face, searching your expression intently as if trying to read your thoughts. Then he spoke again, voice firm and steady. “I’d never want you hurt. You know that, don't you?”

You smiled softly. “Of course I do.”

Rhysand returned your smile briefly, but his eyes were still serious, as he continued in a stern tone that brooked no argument.

“I know you think you're capable of taking care of yourself, and you are– but that still doesn't mean I'm completely comfortable with the idea of you being in a relationship with Eris, let alone him being your mate.” At that, your expression darkened into a frown. But Rhysand held up a hand to stop you from speaking as he went on, his gaze never leaving your face. “I'm not done yet. Just listen.” You bit your tongue and held back the retort that had been on the tip of it, keeping quiet as you waited for him to continue. Rhysand's tone softened somewhat, though he still maintained his authoritative demeanor as he spoke again.

“This is my only warning, and I mean it. If you decide to pursue anything with Eris... If I sense even a hint of him hurting you, I will break every bone in his body. And that's just the beginning of what I'll do to him if he betrays us in any way.”

You quickly locked eyes with Nesta, but glanced back at your still fumbling hands in your lap. “I know.”

Then Rhysand looked at Eris. “Do you have anything to say?”

Eris, who had been watching the interaction with a quiet aloofness, looked at Rhysand for a moment. Then he spoke, his voice cool and composed. “I know that my word means very little to you, but I give you my promise; I will never harm her in any way. And I have no intention of betraying the Night Court either.”

Rhysand had barely nodded, before it was Azriel who finally portrayed anything else but stoic neutrality. “You can not seriously allow this?”

Rhysand turned towards Azriel, his expression hardening slightly as he regarded the Shadowsinger. “And what do you suppose I do instead, Az?”

Azriel didn't respond straight away, his face twisted into a deep, intense frown as he stared at you and Eris. His jaw clenched and he appeared to struggle with holding back something. Finally, he spoke. “You're really going to allow her to risk herself and everybody in this city? To trust someone who has been our enemy for centuries?”

You interrupted the two brothers with a shaky, quiet voice. “I can leave. If me being with Eris is too much of a risk for the court– for the Inner Circle, then I'll leave.”

Rhysand's head snapped to look at you, his eyes wide with surprise and disbelief at your words. But it was Azriel who replied first, in a near-shout that echoed around the room. “Don't you dare. Don't you dare even suggest that.”

“I'm not leaving him.” Azriel's reaction was visceral, his eyes flashing with anger as he took an almost threatening step towards you. But Rhysand shot out an arm to hold him back, preventing him from getting any closer. The High Lord’s voice was low and dangerous as he addressed his brother. “Azriel. Stand down.”

Azriel scoffed and then his eyes met yours. “How are you going to explain this to Mor? That the same male that left her dying and naked, a note nailed to her body, on the filthy, dirty floor is now warming your bed? How?” Your eyes filled with tears, but Azriel wasn't done. “Is there no one in the entirety of gods damned Prythian that you could have fucked instead?” You flinched at his words. Rhysand’s voice was almost snarling as he spoke. “Not another word.” But Azriel continued, the syllables sharp and biting as he directed them at you. “You are a fool. A naive, spoiled fool who has no care for those that love her. You have no idea the pain you're causing.” His words stung you like little else could, the harsh bite of his voice making you shrink back almost involuntarily. Your body began shaking and you were fully sobbing now, holding your face in your hands. Eris couldn't take it anymore, he removed your palms from your face and almost in the same motion, your arms were around him and you nuzzled your head in between his shoulder and neck, continuing your crying while he comforted you. He shot a glare over your shoulder at Azriel, his eyes narrowed, before he gently stroked a hand over your hair to soothe you. Azriel had visibly paled as he watched you start to cry in Eris's arms.

“It's alright, I got you.” Eris whispered into your hair. Nesta finally got up and walked over to you, sitting down on the couch's armrest beside you and gently rubbing your back. Meanwhile, Rhysand continued to keep a watchful eye on Azriel, his body still tense and wary, ready to intervene if needed.

After a while, Eris began shifting. You held on tighter to his neck, as his arms hooked under your back and knees. He stood, lifting you from the sofa and you couldn't bring yourself to look up at any of them.

“I think we better leave.” Eris said to Rhysand, the softness in his voice more for you than for the High Lord or your friends. “If you'd prefer for us not to be here in Velaris, I have a secure place I can take her.”

Rhysand's expression was a mixture of concern and irritation, but in the end he nodded his head in agreement. “Very well. I think it's best if you take her and leave for a while.”

Now it was Nesta who lost her composure completely. “You are kicking her out of the city? Have you lost your mind? She's part of our family!”

Rhysand's face softened slightly as he looked at Nesta, his tone almost apologetic. “I'm not kicking her out of the city, Nesta. I'm asking them to leave for a little while to give everyone time to cool down. Until we figure out the best way to handle this situation.”

Your body began shaking harder again, new tears threatening to choke you. Out of all the outcomes today could have had, Rhysand so simply agreeing to you leaving Velaris was definitely one of the most painful ones.

“I can't fucking believe this!” Nesta shook her head and stormed out of the room, followed by a completely started Cassian who ran after her. Azriel had returned to his stoic self.

Eris cleared his throat. “If you'll allow me, I'd like to grab a few of her things before we go.”

Rhysand nodded in assent. His eyes quickly met your shaking form in Eris's arms. “Of course.”

Feyre's usual kind eyes were rimmed with sorrow as she spoke up next. “I'll accompany you.”

As Eris winnowed you into your apartment, followed by Feyre and you wondered if this had been your last time in the House of Wind. Wondered if this entire interaction was the last time with your chosen family and another set of tears spilled from your red rimmed eyes. Eris sat you down on one of your kitchen chairs, squatting down in front of you, rubbing his hands gently over your trembling knees. Feyre stood silently to the side now as she watched the tender gestures Eris made to comfort you, her eyes sad as she looked at your tear-streaked face. Eventually, she spoke, her voice tentative as she stepped closer to you. “Can I talk to you for a moment? Just the two of us?”

Eris looked at the High Lady, then placed a quick kiss on your forehead and got up. You saw him grab an empty bag and disappear into your bedroom, most likely packing. Feyre waited until Eris had walked away before carefully taking a seat next to you. She reached a hand out and took your own in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She met your teary gaze with a sympathetic look. “How are you doing?”

“Not well. I figured it wouldn't go all smoothly, but I didn't expect to be–” You choked on a sob. “I didn't expect to leave Velaris.”

Feyre's grip on your hand tightened, her thumb rubbing circles on your skin. Her voice was quiet, but firm as she spoke. “You're not leaving Velaris. You'll always be a part of the Night Court, a part of our family.”

You huffed and smiled sadly. “Have I ever really been a part of your family? I don't think anybody would ask Nesta, or Elain to leave. And that's fair, they're your sisters... but maybe I just... shouldn't have deluded myself into thinking that…”

Feyre's eyes widened in disbelief and she shook her head, her fingers grasping firmer onto your hand. “No. Don't even start to think like that. Just because Rhysand asked you to leave temporarily does not mean that you're any less a part of this family. You are as much a sister to me as Nesta and Elain.”

Tears still streamed down your cheeks and your initial panic gave way to grief and resignation. “It doesn't matter anyway. I saw how Azriel looked at me– what he said to me.” You winced. “Maybe it's best if I don't come back at all.”

Feyre's grasp was almost painful as she shook her head again, harder this time. “No, stop saying that. Az will come around, he just needs time to adjust, like all of us do. And when he does, the Inner Circle will be whole again. With you in it. We love you. Nothing will change that.”

Her words didn't even really reach you. Eris carefully walked out of the bedroom, looking between you two. Feyre's eyes locked on the packed bag in his hands, sadness and worry etched on her face. But she forced a strained smile and let go of you as she spoke to Eris. “Take care of her.”

Eris nodded and walked over to you, gently wiping the tears away from your cheek with his thumb. “Ready to go?” He asked and even his voice was laced in sadness for you. You didn't reply, only took his wrist and when he winnowed away, you didn't even have the strength to look at Feyre one more time.

Inner Circle POV

Feyre was left in your apartment and a mix of anger and sorrow filled her chest. She winnowed back into the sitting room of the House of Wind and when she arrived, it was wholly silent. Everybody was still there. Rhysand, legs crossed, sitting in an armchair, just staring. Azriel standing in a corner, obviously still reeling. Nesta and Cassian had come back and Nesta had her arms crossed in front of her chest as she leaned back on the couch, she seemed incredibly angry. Cassian sat next to her, his forearms on his legs, leaning forward, staring at the floor. Feyre walked up to Rhysand, sitting down on the armrest of his chair. “She’s gone.”

Rhysand, who had been silently contemplating the events of the past hour, looked up at Feyre as she spoke. His face was expressionless, betraying none of the turmoil brewing inside of him. He only nodded once, acknowledging the news. Feyre looked around at the others, her gaze traveling from Azriel, who was still standing in a corner and staring at the floor, to Nesta, whose fury was vibrating through the air. “What did we just do?” She asked, her voice soft.

Rhysand looked up at Feyre. His voice was even, but Feyre could detect a hint of guilt and uncertainty within it. “I did what I thought was necessary.”

“She thinks it might be best if she doesn't return at all.” Feyre said sadly.

The quiet statement hung in the air like a viper ready to strike. Rhysand's features did not change, but his eyes darkened and he remained silent for a moment, mulling over Feyre’s words. Azriel spoke, finally looking up from the floor. “Did she say that?”

Nodding, Feyre swallowed hard and guilt lingered in Azriel’s eyes. He looked to Rhysand, a pleading note in his voice. “You can't just let her leave. She needs to come back.”

“She was really hurt by your words Azriel, it probably is best for her to be away from here at least for a little while.” The High Lord tried to reason.

Azriel let out a frustrated growl, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “I was angry, and in shock. We should have all had a conversation together. Instead we let her leave with that prick.”

Feyre sighed, a shaky exhale. “I just saw her with Eris, how he took care of her. She loves him deeply.”

Azriel's shoulders slumped. He knew Feyre had a point. He himself had seen the care and tenderness with which Eris had handled you. It had made him sick to his stomach. “He's probably going to take advantage of the situation.” He muttered bitterly.

“Admittedly, I think he really loves her too.”

“And you're okay with that?”

“They're mates. If we want her to return, we'll have to accept that.”

Azriel closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “I don't have to like it, though.”

Feyre sighed, looking over at Rhys, then Nesta and Cassian. “No, you don't. I think we all would have preferred anybody else to be her mate. But I think we also all agree that whatever dislike we feel for Eris, isn't stronger than the love we have for Y/N.”

“I agree.” Rhys muttered. A line formed between Azriel’s brows as they furrowed, but he gave a reluctant nod in agreement.

“Let's just hope she comes back and forgives how we handled this situation.” Feyre added. Azriel still looked furious, but a thread of remorse shone in his eyes, as he was reminded of his own part in the situation. Cassian, for once, had nothing to say, and Nesta's anger was still palpable.

“We'll make it right.” Rhys promised, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the room like stifling smoke.

Reader POV

Eris had been taking care of you in a secluded cabin in Winter Court, right at the border to Autumn. It was too unsafe to let you stay in his own court. You knew that his fear of Beron finding out about you– his mate, was a constant stressor for Eris, driving him out of his mind with worry. Three days you'd been here. For the first two, Eris had been with you, then he had to head back. Letting his father wait any longer for his return, would have resulted in Beron getting suspicious and you couldn't afford that. Today was your first day alone in the cabin and without Eris keeping you distracted, your thoughts wandered to the Inner Circle. Your friends. Your family. They'd banished you. Fine, maybe that was a little dramatic. But they didn't want to have you around, at least for a while. It stung, although you understood their reservations when it came to Eris, you had hoped they'd at least give you some grace. Sooner or later, one of them would show up here. If not for you and making amends, they'd have to do so to discuss the final steps of your plan to overthrow Beron. The poison had been acquired by you and Eris. Now it was simply a matter of how to get it into his fathers system. After you'd kept yourself occupied with a book about a human boy who fell in love with a princess from Winter Court, you roamed the dusty cabin. Passing a mirror, you groaned when you saw your current state. At least the swelling around your puffy eyes had begun to ebb away, but your hair was undoubtedly a mess and your skin looked ashen. You'd just started picking at the shirt you were wearing, making a mental note to ask Eris for more clothes, when a reluctant knock at the door made you jolt.

With your hand resting on the doorknob for a moment, you inhaled once, then exhaled, before opening the creaky door. Azriel's hazel eyes met yours, his entire body seemed tense. Out of all the members of the Inner Circle, Azriel was the last one you'd expected to come see your first. The things he'd said to you…

He hesitated for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say or how to start. Then he cleared his throat, his voice rough as he spoke. “Can I come in?”

Without a word, you opened the door further, gesturing for him to step inside. “How did you find me?”

Azriel stalked inside, his eyes sweeping over the interior of the cabin. It was small and cozy, homely even. The fire in the hearth was crackling rhythmically, tinting the pine green carpet over the dark wood floors in an orange light. Azriel glanced back at you. “Did you really think I wouldn't be able to find you?” His voice held a hint of challenge, as if he was almost insulted by the question.

Slinging your arms around your frame, you only nodded in reply. Of course he'd find you. There was nothing Azriel wasn't able to find. The words he'd so venomously spoken to you the last time you saw him still rang in your ears. Not just because he was standing in front of you now– no. They'd been writhing through every last crevice of your brain, ever since they left his mouth.

Is there no one in the entirety of gods damned Prythian that you could have fucked instead?

A naive, spoiled fool who has no care for those that love her.

“Would you like some tea?”

Azriel’s eyes softened slightly at your offer. “Yes, please.”

You disappeared into the cramped adjacent kitchen nook, turning on some hot water. As you waited, your gaze drifted over the blanket of snow outside, a glittering mass of white and cold. Peaceful and quiet, so different from the turbulence inside your mind. When the kettle began whistling, you prepared two cups and returned to the living room. Azriel was sitting in one of the armchairs, the brown leather worn out and soft. You handed him one of the cups, and slumped down next to him. Azriel took it gratefully and for a few minutes, you sat there in silence. His gaze moved from you to the fire, then to the floor, then back to you again. The warmth from the hot porcelain of the tea cup seeped into your palms. Azriel sipped twice from the tea, before setting it down on the armrest and speaking to you quietly as he hesitated to meet your eyes. “I'm sorry, for what I said to you.”

“I know you are.” The relentless words he'd spoken just a few days ago had haunted you. But Azriel had been your friend. Nobody was as close to you as him and Nesta. He'd always treated you like a little sister and that was what had hurt you the most. That the things said came from him. And you knew with clear certainty that he regretted them, had known it even before he showed up at your doorstep. ”Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive me?” You asked quietly.

Azriel's eyes widened minimally in surprise, a clear sign that the question caught him off guard. He set the cup down on the coffee table in front of him, leaning forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he looked at you intently. “Forgive you?”

“I mean, forgive me for... Eris.”

Azriel let out a frustrated sigh. “It's not your fault that you're mates. You didn't choose it.”

You bit your bottom lip and sat up a bit straighter. “I need you to stop looking at me like I'm a victim to this. I fell in love with Eris, before I even knew about the bond. If I could choose another mate right now, I wouldn't.”

Azriel’s hands clenched into fists on top of his legs, as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You don't understand who he truly is, what he's capable of.”

You did hesitate a moment, before you replied to his angry remark. “I'll tell you something, but I need you to promise me that it doesn't leave this cabin.”

Azriel's head snapped towards you at the request, his eyes zoning in on your face. He swallowed, giving you a slow nod. “I promise.”

Breathing in deeply, you began. “Eris sits at his desk every night, not rarely until the sun rises again. Pondering over notes and papers. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I watch him for a while. He scribbles away for hours on end. He's got detailed descriptions about every single advisor Beron currently has, trying to figure out if he can trust them once he's High Lord himself and his father is dead. There are plans for the villages in Autumn Court that will need immediate help, the instant he takes the throne. He's got a journal with every single family name of the people Beron has harmed and side notes with what exactly his father did to them and how he could redeem those actions. And believe me, the list is long.” You paused. “Eris is trying to make Autumn Court a better place.” Azriel remained silent after you were done speaking, seemingly thinking over every word you’d just said. “I'm not telling you this to excuse his actions. He's done horrible things– Eris knows that. I'm telling you this, because I at least want you to know that he's not a monster.”

Azriel exhaled a breath, his fingers rubbing his temple. “So you believe him to be a better High Lord than his father?”

“I know he will be a better High Lord than Beron.”

Azriel just sat still for a moment, contemplating your words. “I don't trust him, not yet. But I trust you. And if you have faith in him…”

Pressing your lips together tightly, you nodded twice.

The two of you talked for two more hours and after a while, it almost felt normal again. The conversation slowly soothed over the vile words that Azriel had said to you a few days ago. It had begun getting dark outside already, when the door to the Winter Court cabin opened and Eris walked in, shaking a few stray snowflakes from his silky, ginger locks. He halted his steps for a second when he saw Azriel sitting at the hearth with you. Before Eris could spit out one of his witty comments, you shot him a glare that undoubtedly stated that you wanted him to behave. He schooled his face into a neutral expression, but there was a tightness around his eyes that betrayed the effort it cost him. He closed the door behind himself and made his way over to the fireplace, nodding curtly at Azriel before sitting down in the last free armchair. “I can come back later, give you some more time to talk, if you wish.” Eris said, no sarcasm or sharpness in his tone.

Azriel's eyes flickered to Eris, obviously surprised by his offer. “No, it's alright,” he said, after a moment. “I was just leaving, anyway.” He stood up and made his way to the door, pausing for a second before looking back at you and Eris. “One more thing. Rhysand has called for another meeting in two days time. We'll discuss the final plan for Beron's demise. He expects you both to attend.”

“We'll be there.” You answered plainly.

Azriel nodded, shooting one last look at Eris, his eyes narrowing slightly, before he turned and exited the cabin, the door shutting firmly behind him. Silence fell over the room after Azriel's departure. You and Eris sat quietly in your chairs, both lost in your thoughts, but aware of each other's presence. “I didn't expect to see Azriel here.” His voice cut through the quiet.

“Neither did I.”

Eris leaned back in his chair, one ankle crossed over his knee, and looked at you. “I'm surprised he didn't try to kill me on the spot.”

“I might have smoothed him over a bit.”

Eris smiled at you softly, his eyes shimmering with admiration. “You certainly have a way with people.”

“What can I say? It’s a gift.” You joked.

Eris chuckled, a deep rumble that reverberated through your body and rattled every single bone. “Perhaps you should handle all of my diplomatic affairs then.”

“Sounds like you're offering me a job in your future court.” The gentle taunting between the two of you would never begin to bore you, you were sure of it.

He leaned forward in his chair and his face formed that exquisite grin that you loved so much. “I can see it. You and me, ruling the Autumn Court together. It's a nice picture, don't you think?”

Eris sat there before you, offering you everything he had to give– part of his court, his throne, his heart. And when you looked at him like that, worshiping and adoring you with every breath he took, it infuriated you that anyone would even dare think he was wretched. “I love you, Eris.”

He smiled, not the cocky, devilish smirk he perfected over the years, but a true, gentle smile, full of affection. “I love you, too.”

A serene pause lingered between you two, before Eris's voice slid through it. “I brought some food, are you hungry?” With a nod, you got up from the armchair. When you'd both stood next to each other in the tiny kitchen, you turned towards him and stood up on your toes to reach his mouth for a chaste kiss. After plating your dinners, you found yourselves at the small table between the living room and the kitchen nook, eating some of the food Eris had taken to the Winter Court cabin. You had to admit, over the past few days you'd grown quite fond of the dishes he'd brought from Autumn. With every moment that passed in the presence of your mate, you could see yourself living with him there more clearly. Happy and finally free of his father. The only thing you weren't sure of yet, was how fit you really were to share that throne. But that was a discussion for another day. “What do you think about the meeting in two days?”

Eris chewed on a piece of roasted brussel sprout, thinking over your question. He swallowed the bite before speaking. “I suppose it's crucial,” he admitted. “We can't have any loose ends when it comes to my father's demise. And I trust Rhysand to keep everything organized and planned out. That bastard leaves no room for error, I'll give him that much.”

“Please try not to pick a fight when we're there.” You said, stabbing the fork at your food.

Eris lifted a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he teased you. “Do you really have that little faith in me, my love?”

Your face turned serious. “Last time we were there, you really held back. I don't think I've said it yet, but I was really grateful for that. And that you were there for me.”

Eris's expression softened at your words. He reached out and laid a tender hand over yours on the table, his touch exuding its signature warmth. “I know how much your friends mean to you. And I meant what I said. I have no intention of ruining your happiness. Even if they continue to be insufferable, I'll swallow my pride and shut my mouth– for your sake.”

You turned your hand under his palm and intertwined your fingers, squeezing gently. Eris’s thumb caressed the back of your hand. “Are you doing alright, my love? You've been quieter these past few days.”

You chewed on your lip in thought as your eyes drifted to where your fingers were laced together. “I'm alright. I just want to get it over with. And the way the Inner Circle reacted to our relationship... The fact I had to leave Velaris and have to hide in this cabin... It's a lot.”

Eris’s forehead crinkled with a frown and his grip on your hand tightened protectively. “I know. I don't like it any more than you do. But we'll get through this, I promise.” He sighed, reaching across the table to push a stray lock of hair back from your face. “Soon, you can roam my whole court, my throne room, my bedroom... without looking over your shoulder. Or you stay in Velaris. It's entirely your choice.”

Your eyebrows knitted in surprise. “You mean, we'd be together, you'd be High Lord in Autumn and I'd remain in Velaris?”

Eris studied your expression, his lips twitching upwards. “If that's what you want, yes. I'd be High Lord of Autumn Court. You'd stay in Velaris, with your friends and your life there…” He paused, his hand still lightly touching your hair when he added, “...and I'd visit you frequently.”

A content smile danced around the corners of your mouth. “You’d do that for me?”

Eris returned the look on your face with a charming grin. “For you, I'd do anything. Even suffer the hassle of traveling to Velaris, just to see that lovely smile on your face.” His expression turned a little more serious, but his eyes sparkled with love and determination. “I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. And I want to be with you every waking day until the end of our time. So yes, if that's the arrangement you want, then that's what we'll do.”

You had to bite the side of your tongue to prevent your eyes from getting glassy at his words. “I want to be with you. I love Velaris and I love my friends and I'll visit them as often as I can, but my place is at your side.”

Eris raised your joined hands and lifted them to his lips, kissing the back of your hand so preciously your heart clenched. “Then at my side you shall be.”

A moment passed, both of you savoring each other's company. “Let's go to bed.” You said, standing up from your chair, benevolently tugging Eris along.

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