Summary - Calanmai is the most important night in Spring, and how lucky for you to be mated to the night's main attraction
Warnings - smut, mating press, oral, fingering, praise kink, biting kink, implied voyeurism, sex magic, implied orgy, loose editing (we die like men here)
A/n - Sorry, this is later than expected! I went back and forth and eventually decided to leave it vague enough that it could be part of Lost Bonds or read without it. I also wanted it to fit @tamlinweek d4 prompts, so did that the best I could without forcing other people to read the mini series if they haven't already 💕
Tamlin Masterlist
The Cave was hot. Almost unbearable.
Or maybe that was just your skin as you were laid on the centered bed. Whatever had taken over the gentle male you once knew was starved. It was desperate, hungry, and wanting.
You had been stripped bare on the way to the cave, and even just the brush of his bare chest on yours had you moaning softly, eyelids flutter shut as you did. You had never experienced sex magic before, but you could see why so many books warned against it. How you felt right now could easily become an addiction.
Tamlin was kissing down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went to ensure you were covered in his marks and bruising. The paint on his body had begun staining your skin, another sign that you were his for the night and his for the taking. Your hands moved without permission, exploring his shoulders, his biceps, and his forearms. He was stunning. You knew that from the moment you laid eyes on him, but getting to admire him up close was almost too much.
Green eyes met yours before he wrapped his lips around your left nipple, sucking and flicking the bud until he was content with the sounds of your moans and the peak it had formed. He gave the right the same attention, smirking against your skin at the little gasps leaving your throat. “Tam,” you whispered his name, tugging on his soft blonde locks. “More.”
“More?” He chuckled against your skin as his fingers danced down your sides before gripping your soft hips. “What does my pretty mate need more of?” His kisses trailed down again as he waited for an answer. He bit your inner left thigh as you zoned out, watching the action send chills through your body to alert to the pain. “Stay with me, y/n. I want to see the way your eyes look when I make you cum in my tongue.”
You could hardly process his words, but you raised yourself to your elbows and watched. There was an odd sense of power that came with having a male between your thighs. That first lick of his tongue through the slick mess made your head fall back, a soft fuck coming through your lips. He took it as permission, savoring each drop of you as his tongue ran from your entrance, dipping in at times for more of a taste, to circling your clit. You could feel yourself growing more and more wet. “You love this, don't you?” He licked at your clit again. “It makes you feel like a queen, doesn't it? Having me please you like this?” You could only moan in response, wiggling your hips as you tried to push him into continuing.
He dove back in, lips locking around your clit as he ran a finger up your core. Your head fell back again as he pushed it in, curling it instantly to that sensitive spot inside of you like he already knew your body like the back of his hands. You could feel that coil tightening, core twitching around his finger. You looked back him and could have came at the sight alone. Tamlin's eyes shut in peace as he enjoyed every second of what he was doing to you.
He pushed a second finger in, opening you up for later. It took seconds for you to fall over the edge, and he moaned against you as you did. His name was a prayer on your lips, falling over and over again as he worked you through the high, only stopping as you pushed his head away.
He held eye contact with you as he cleaned his fingers, licking them and sucking them before grabbing both of your thighs and pushing your knees towards your chest. “Hold them there.” You obeyed mindlessly, a warm haze setting in all over again. You needed Tamlin like water. It was as if he was the only one capable of putting out the fire in your stomach, and you were becoming desperate to feel normal again.
“Please,” his hand went to your thigh, eyes shining in sympathy for a brief moment.
“I have you, y/n,” He was inside of you in one fluid thrust, groaning in time with the loud moan that left your body. He lifted your hips, squeezing your ass as he did, and he began.
He pounded into you as if both of your lives depend on it. He was the most vocal lover you had ever had. Praising you with each roll of his hips. Whimpering each time you twitched around him. Groaning as your legs fell open wider allowing him deeper into you.
Your moans were becoming higher pitched and breathy as he reached places healers wouldn't have even known about. You couldn't whispering his name between moans, you couldn't stop arching your back. Your nails dug into his arms bringing him closer to you and locking him into a kiss.
His forehead came to rest on yours, the pace slowing significantly as it did. “You are so beautiful.” The praise shot straight through you making you whimper his name again. “In all the years I've lived, I have never laid eyes on someone more beautiful than you, and I never win.” Your hands moved to dig into his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist as his pace picked up again.
“I need you to cum,” he moaned into your ear, kissing the tip lightly. “Need to feel you squeezing me with this pretty pussy.” It was as if he had unlocked something deep inside of you, stomach twisting and a knot forming as he continued. “I could bury myself inside of you and die a happy male. You are so perfect. So tight and warm. Feels so good, petal.”
The praise made you feel light headed, “Tamlin, please.”
His finger moved to your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. “Go ahead. Cum for me. Let everyone here know how good I'm fucking my mate.”
The possession, the long forgotten crowd watching and fucking in time with you two, the feeling of electricity shooting through you. You fell off the edge, screaming his name as you did, and triggered his own fall, screaming again as he bit into your shoulder and emptied into you.
Heavy breathing was all you could hear as you came back down. Soft kisses on your brow bone worked you back to the present. “You did so good, y/n. Rest for a bit. We're just beginning.”
After an outburst directed toward an unwanted visitor, a resident of Tamlin’s manor prepares to face the consequences of her actions but the High Lord has something else in mind.
warnings: smut, language
Moonlight and night air filtered through the edges of the pastel velvet curtains as the beat of my racing heart overtook the silence of my bedchamber. Seated at the edge of the large four-poster bed in my now permanent room, I took steadying breaths. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Repeat.
Who was I to have shown anything less than reverence to the High Lord of the Night Court? To his credit - in his own fucked up way - he’d tried to help Tam out of the stupor he’d spent years in but the male had been through so much already. How could the face of the mate of the love of his life bring any peace to his already broken soul?
These visits always ruined what small progress Tamlin had made. I tried to remain calm but damn it - Tamlin had finally stopped curling up outside of my door at night, on alert for any hidden threats. He’d given me a genuine smile on a stroll through the gardens just this morning. He’d even cooked this evening. Yes, a simple meal of roast venison and root vegetables, but a meal nevertheless. He was making progress and as if he sensed it, Rhysand showed up to “check in” on Tamlin right after dinner.
And just like that, Tamlin’s demeanor crumpled. I couldn’t take it anymore, the irreverence toward my mate’s own trauma. My temper rose to a point of no return, pouring out as spewed vitriol very unbecoming of a lady in the manor of a High Lord.
To his credit, Rhysand only eyed me with intrigue and didn’t mist me on the spot after I suggested he take his “good intentions” and shove them up his ass and showed him the door.
Tamlin only eyed me with an unreadable expression and requested that I stay behind while he escorted the Night Court’s High Lord from the estate.
Deciding against pressing my luck further I exited the foyer and saw myself to my chambers where I now sat waiting for the inevitable lecture, hell, maybe he’d kick me out. I only lived here out of his generosity. His tolerance of me certainly spurred on by the unaccepted mating bond that snapped when the magic chose me on Calanmai.
Two lonely souls bound together by fate.
We’d spent the past ten months living in companionable silence, both healing from the wounds our souls bore. And now, I’d likely torn down the careful progress we’d built brick-by-brick in one fell swoop.
The creak of my door withdrew me from my self-loathing retrospection and the quiet thud of boots crossing the wooden floors grew louder with each step in my direction. I didn’t look up. Couldn’t face him. Didn’t need to as the tension between us laid it all out clearly.
He’d never laid an ill-intentioned hand on me, we rarely even touched. Calanmai was a one-time thing. We’d brushed hands a time or two at the dinner table, he’d caught me as I stumbled in the garden once. I almost - almost - flinched as my High Lord’s hand came into my peripheral but all I was met with was a broad, gentle palm to the nape of my neck and the soft caress of a thumb running along my jaw line. I looked to him with furrowed brows, eyes lining with silver as I awaited whatever came next, but all I was met with were deep green eyes filled with anything but rage.
I averted my gaze as he fell to a knee in front of me. “Look at me, dove.” his typically gruff voice softer than I’d ever heard.
He waited patiently before I turned my head to look upon him once more. His eyes bore into mine, searing right into the depths of my soul. I could feel my heart hammering as his breaths grew rapid.
“You-“ he spoke, one large hand remained caressing my jaw as the other covered my own hands, folded in my lap. “You defended me.”
I puzzled. Was that a shock to him?
His emerald gaze flicked back and forth while remaining locked on my face, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. Why?
Withdrawing one of my hands from his grasp and resting it delicately upon his muscled chest, I replied definitively, “Because you’re mine.”
His breathing paused, rose lips pressing into a firm line. Processing. The silence between us pressing into me like a blade.
His voice cracked with his next words. “You want me?”
“I have since your eyes found mine on fire night.”
Before I could shift, or speak further, his lips were crashing into me like the violent swell of a storm falling upon rocky shores.
My lips gaped, breath hitching at his response, the desire I’d shoved deep within me pouring out at once as I opened for him, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, dancing along mine. A small, involuntary whimper escaped me as he lifted off of his knee, leaning over me as I slid back deeper onto the bed, careful not to let my lips leave his for even a moment - eliciting a groan from Tamlin.
My finger tangled into his long, blonde hair as he braced his weight over me with one arm, his other holding my hip, thumb running over the silk of my cherry blossom dress.
“You’re mine.” I rasped out in a hushed murmur between our shared breaths, pulling away just enough to look into the eyes of my mate again.
My chest heaved, breasts rising and falling with each gasp. I managed another whisper, “You’re mine, Tam.”
With those words, he lost any semblance of control. His fingers tugged my hair, exposing the column of my neck to him. His soft lips pressed heated kisses along my jawline, down to my neck, giving little nips and licks over the corresponding hurt as he went. “You’re mine.” He growled back, possessiveness overtaking his tone.
All I could manage was an “mmhmm” as he pulled the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breasts to him, his lips latched onto a peaked nipple and gods - the mouth on this male. As he licked and sucked on my breasts, jolts of electricity shot through me, straight to my core. I needed him lower and he knew it. His claws unsheathed, shredding through my dress and undergarments. I shivered as his stubble grazed my abdomen with each kiss tracking lower and lower. So close to where I needed him. My legs fell open in invitation, displaying the dripping need he elicited from me. His pupils blew wide as he took in the sight before him, realization of just how desperately I wanted him activating the most primal facets of the mating bond.
He pulled back, eyes boring into mine once more. “Say it, Y/N.”
My heart nearly shattered at the pleading expression of his features. This was real. My desire for him so tangible that he need only run a finger up my center to remind himself. But this was deeper than that, deeper than just want, deeper than mere lust.
“Tamlin.” I whispered.
“I’m yours. All of me.”
And I could have sworn the slightest hint of silver lined my mate’s thick lashes as he let loose that final reign of restraint.
His mouth latched onto my clit. A male starved. Starved for affection, starved for intimacy, starved for understanding, for love. But I saw him, all of him - and I wasn’t afraid.
His tongue laved against my core, moving with expert precision as he teased my most sensitive nerves, swirling around my clit before lowering to my entrance. He groaned like my essence was the sweetest nectar of any flora in his court and I couldn’t hold back the moans and praises spilling from my lips.
A thick finger plunged into me, curling so deliciously as he sucked my throbbing clit. He’d send me over the edge in no time. “Please.” I begged as the imminent release had me on the edge of a precipice.
I whimpered as he pulled back, the sharp angles of his chin and plush lips shining with the coat of my arousal. I could have come just from that sight alone. His deep voice sending chills through me as he commanded, “Say it, one more time baby. One more time, and then let go for me.”
His mouth returned to my core, latching back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves as two fingers now curled inside of me, his other hand tweaking a rosey nipple, “I’m yours. I’m yours. Oh gods, Tam. I’m only yours.” I chanted as release barreled through me. My sex pulsing around his fingers. His hips bucking into the bed in time with my orgasm, desperate for friction.
And I was greedy.
“Tamlin.” I spoke through heated breaths. “I need more.”
With a flick of his wrist, his clothes were gone. My jaw dropped when he rose to his knees before me, his erect length already beading with precum.
I licked my lips, raising myself to admire as he gave a few pumps to his heavy, aching cock. My mouth watering with the need to taste him.
He splayed a hand between my breasts, pushing me back into the mattress. “Time for that later. Need my baby coming on my cock.”
“Oh gods.” I moaned at the words, my core was an inferno with them at the realization that my mate needed to be in me just as badly as I needed to be filled by him.
And fill me he did. His head easily slid through my slick folds and I knew that length, and fuck, that girth, would hurt in the most pleasurable of ways.
“All of you.” I whimpered. “I need all of you. Now.”
With that he scooped me up, spreading my legs to straddle his hips. He braced his weight on his arms behind him, his muscles flexing with the shift, and crossing his legs, spreading my legs further across him.
“Take what you want.” He commanded.
And I realized then that he wanted me to set the pace, that he’d never risk hurting me. Especially since it had been so long since we’d been together.
I aligned his length to my entrance, locking my gaze onto him, admiring the planes of his gorgeous face before meeting the sea of emerald taking in each micro-expression of my own face.
“Yours.” I spoke boldly, and sank down each thick inch of his cock until I was seated to the hilt. The pleasure quickly overtaking any semblance of pain.
Chills spread through me at the loud growl of satisfaction he let out at the sensation of my cunt gripping all of him. I remained pressed down, gently swiveling my hips to adjust to his size, and pressing a hand to the slight bulge his length created in my belly.
“Fuck.” I whimpered. “You’re so- oh - you feel so…” my brain couldn’t formulate any words beyond that as another gasp escaped my lips as I rose up slowly and sank back down again, moaning in pleasure with each stroke of his length within me.
My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he shifted up, easing the weight off his arms and taking over, lifting my hips and sheathing me back down his cock, over and over, harder and harder, my heavy breasts bouncing in time with the pace. The sounds of my wetness gushing with each thrust was obscene. Removing one hand from my hip, he slid it between us and pressed his thumb to my clit. Within seconds I fell over the edge again, my face falling to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, incoherent babbles pouring from me, muffled by his neck.
“Gods” thrust. “You’re” thrust. “Divine.” He thrust my still fluttering pussy down onto him once more and let out a loud groan as he found his release, the pulsing of his cock as he spilled into me threatened to push me over the edge once more.
Our breathing evened out as he remained sheathed within me. I kept my face buried into his neck, refusing to let this moment of bliss end. My mate had yet to loosen his grasp on me, so we stayed like that, reveling in the feel of skin on skin for some time.
Finally I rose off of him, though he was hesitant to loosen his grip. “Stay with me tonight?” I asked hesitantly. Afraid he’d once again retreat to his chambers or to the hallway outside of my door.
Tamlin laid down pulling me onto his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Every night.” He spoke into my hair.
“Every night.” I hummed in agreement.
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General ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria
@tamlinweek - tagging you for Day 3 “mates” but not sure if it counts since I posted this on Sunday. This is my first of any “weeks” I’ve participated in 🥰
sometimes, when the pressure was too much, lucien used to convince tamlin to shift into his beast form and shift lucien into a fox, and they’d canvass the forest on foot, playing and running like woodland creatures, as free as the birds. and when they were done, not wanting to return to the manor, to the cursed court, they would rest in the forest - even as tamlin’s shifting would fade with his falling asleep <3
synopsis: you spend a clear, spring night under the pale moon with the High Lord of Spring, only you had not understood the intimacy he was inviting you to join him in, under a night where the veil thins, and things become slightly other
a/n: I realised as a writer, I am technically able to put my own spin on each character. I hope you enjoy this peaceful night journey, and would recommend reading this somewhere you can see the moon :)
Day 1 for @tamlinweek : Heir of Spring
music: Tamlin, by Faun
word count: 1k~
This is the High Lord of Spring you respect and worship—the one who leads the rituals and pays his dues to the old magic.
How he walks silently through the grassy fields, the blades allowed to grow tall and wild so they whisper against his legs as he walks bare-footed along the trail. With small twigs and wild berries woven throughout his regal hair, swaying free in the fresh spring breeze, he resembles a disciple of the old priestesses. Clothed in a thin pale robe, the dark marking are stark against his skin—soot-like dust clouding the rims of his eyes, streaking in three lines outward like scars, and as sharply drawn as talons. One set up over his brows, streaking back into the pale gold of his hair; the second set dripping a tear’s path over the sharp high of his cheekbones disappearing just above the point of his ears around his temples; the third pair cutting straight down from his dark emerald eyes, flowing down over the harsh cut of his jaw, over the strength of his neck, down to the tangle of swirls and symbols that branch across his partially bare chest.
Beneath the moonlight, solemn and stern, you can’t help the comparison that springs to mind—with how the gods were drawn long ago, etched on parchment, or carved into stone. Those same marking that are so frequently forgotten, a tradition sacred to the Spring Court, that the rest of Prythian, even fae-kind as a whole, seem to have either forgotten or discarded. But not here. Here, those carvings are remembered and preserved, worshipped and awed over.
It’s precious, an experience you treasure, being allowed the honour of watching over such a private ceremony. To be permitted near him on this night when he honours his past fathers, the bloodline that stretches and twines like a new stream that has yet to forge its own straight lines through the earth, so meanders and ambles.
How the moonlight spills across his robes, shining over the pale gold of his hair—sacred and holy. Beneath the silver light, you can make out the triskelion that’s been marked on his chest, partially concealed beneath the robes that have been arranged over his broad shoulders. The interlocking spirals stand out clearly, the familiar marking easy to recognise. Earth, water, and sky. Birth, life, and death. The patient cycle of life as it repeats quietly, relentlessly. Repeating persistently yet ever-evolving.
A star falls across the sky, and his green-gold eyes follow its path, attention unfaltering despite the will-o-wisps that glow and bumble about in the field, casting pale blue light about the place as they bob and swirl with the breeze. There are few clouds in the sky this night, meaning their distinct, calming glow is enhanced by the moonlight, practically shimmering beneath its cool-toned light.
He turns in the field, a slow shift of his torso as his gaze finds you effortlessly, features patient and somber, and you move as softly as you can manage, unaccustomed to being barefoot. Aware of the earth beneath your feet, how surprisingly bouncy it feels, like freshly tilled soil that sinks as you step upon it. You wade through the grass, pausing at his side as to not overstep—it is a privilege to even be witnessing this moment, let alone to be invited so close.
Initially you hadn’t understood the importance of the night. Had understood its significance, the value of paying respect to those who had come before, recognising he owed much to his fathers—but had failed to consider the personal ramifications of undergoing the ceremony. What it means, for him—he, who should never have become High Lord in the first place. To stand in the open fields and welcome the past spirits closer, the veil thinning between here and elsewhere. What that could mean for a person who has lost his family, to have this one night where they might once more be together, united on one plane.
Tamlin’s gold flecked eyes are quiet but clear, sharp and as aware as ever, refusing to cower from the night, insisting on being fully present to honour his line.
His gaze locks with yours, and in this brief moment they seem almost ancient, carrying a weight he’s never allowed you to see before. Perhaps one even he’s unaware of carrying, simply having taken over from his father without examining what was being passed onto him. The kind of burden he would be forced to hold upon his back. It’s gone as swiftly as it appeared, his expression patient but solemn as he watches you with an acute understanding that has the hairs on your forearms rising. Feeling bare in a way no amount of clothing could aid with, like he’s somehow able to look directly within you, to scoop up pure starlight from the pool of your soul.
He makes no effort to speak, and you have no inclination to disrupt the peace, so join him in his silence, sharing the whisper of the breeze between you, the swish of grass and the far off snap of twigs as they break beneath soft paws. Tamlin’s gaze returns back to the sky, and the will-o-wisps dance closer, near enough to cast light upon your own robes. Quiet and together, the two of you stand, side by side as you share in the sacred moment. Looking up into the bright, night sky, lit by shimmering starlight, swirling and wonderfully complex. Even in the darkest hours, it’s surprising how bright the world is.
Your heart falters a little when his broad palm extends toward you, and you find deep emerald eyes once again peering down at you, far older than the male before you. There’s a sincerity in the gold flecks of his gaze that has your mind quietening, understanding the request for company on a night as long and as tiring as this. Not tiring in the sense of physical exertion, but in the kind that sleeping poorly despite having rested for so long brings. In the kind of restless strain that grief offers, heavy and mournful, yet enlivened by the rebirth of Spring. A relentless awareness that persists tirelessly, but that has been put into a creature that requires sleep and recuperation to recover and continue.
Your fingers slide over the surprisingly rough skin of his hands, settling in his palm as you’re brought closer, stood directly beside him, beneath this long night.
A night of mourning, and longing. A night for wishes to be made, and relations to be resolved.
A night for past worries to be released, and new beginnings to take root.
A night for rebirth, the kind only Spring can offer.
