#feysandfic

[popjunkie42]

The One Where Rhys Wears Glasses

I did it.

Instead of doing my actual job or working on the 30k+ word fanfic I’m writing, I wrote a one-off with nerdy philosopher Rhys. He wears glasses.

Eureka on AO3

Rhys finds something interesting in one of his dusty old books and goes on a late-night research tear, much to Feyre’s amusement. 

Someone on a previous thread mentioned the idea of fae glasses helping them see hidden text or objects, like Lucien’s eye. Remind me who you are and I am happy to credit you. I stole the idea completely.

I also fully invented some random Prythian history and magical rules as I went so...be gentle.

I hope you enjoy!

Snippet:

Feyre regarded him for a moment, a soft smile on her face. It was easy, sometimes, to forget they had known each other for such a short amount of time. Hardly two years. Sometimes she thought she knew her mate more than she knew herself. Much of her life was spent with him by her side, his thoughts and emotions traveling freely back and forth between the bond, his mind a familiar landscape.

She knew his moods, his looks, when a quirk of his lips meant he was annoyed or amused. When he was calm and lost in his thoughts, or observing the tone of a room and ready for a verbal spar.

Since she had first met him on that fateful fire night, Feyre had seen many faces of Rhys. The cruel High Lord, the cold politician. The cocky Illyrian warrior and the grand commander of armies. The gentle ruler of Velaris, and his truer face, smiling and teasing with his family around a dinner table. Her mate, his eyes sometimes lustful and wicked, or filled to the brim with love and devotion.

And now, here was a new one for her own personal catalog. Rhys…the nerd. The devoted scholar, the inspired researcher.

She loved it, of course. As she loved all of his many personalities.

Oblivious to her thoughts, he let out a rather dramatic sigh, crossing out some notes on the parchment.

Feyre snorted. He lifted his eyes to her, the first time in hours.

“You remind me of one of our tutors when he finally got to my father’s library,” she said. “He used to bounce his leg furiously when he found something he liked. None of us could even sit in the same room as him when he was reading.”

“Oh? Was he also handsome, charming, devastatingly intelligent?” Rhys crooned.

She smirked and sent a mental image down the bond. One of her childhood tutors, a mere scrap of a boy fresh from school, his limbs gangly, his greasy hair slicked over his forehead, and small round-rimmed glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, threatening to fall into the book he was buried in.

“Yes, I’d say it’s almost a mirror image.” He rolled his eyes. “Except for the glasses, I suppose.”

“Well, fortunately for us, the fae have little use for such things. Although,” he said, thoughtful. “I do have an old pair actually. Enchanted, for reading hidden text.” With a flourish of his hand he brought forth a pair of glasses, rectangular and thick-rimmed at the top but nothing but glass below. He placed them on his face and with a snap a book appeared in his left hand. He motioned her over for a demonstration. Feyre swallowed, looking him up and down.

“The Illumi village, centuries ago, were a people very secretive about their knowledge. They wrote with enchanted parchment and ink that was only visible to their own people. Until their rivals cracked the magic and created objects with which to view it. It was quite a scandal, back in the day.” He held open the book for her to examine.

Feyre made her way to the table, taking the book from his hands and dropping it unceremoniously onto the table. Before Rhys could object, she slid into his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck. The corner of his lips twitched and his hands rested on her hips.

“Perhaps I could become a scholar,” she said, kissing him, pulling a bit more than necessary on his bottom lip. “Of this mysterious knowledge.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest. The glasses . The glasses were doing something to her. He looked…distinguished. Somehow more than usual. Rhys the scholar, indeed. Feyre had been too young and their tutors too odious for her to have anything but rather negative memories of her lessons. But she did recall one of the younger of them all, how Elain would go beet red when he leaned over her shoulder to check her work, how she squeaked once when he laid an unexpected hand on her shoulder.

“Would you like a lesson later?” he whispered, his eyes darkening a bit. Feyre captured another kiss and then her lips began a slow path down his jaw, to his neck. “I have a twenty-volume History of Prythian we could start with. It would take…a while to get through.”

He hissed slightly as she nipped at the soft skin of his neck. His hands found her backside and squeezed, dragging her tantalizingly across his lap, closer to his body.

“Maybe I could shape shift into a quartz stone,” she said, her lips and teeth working their way slowly back up to his mouth. “And then I could get some of that attention back on me again.” Feyre kissed him again, taking his lip between her teeth and pulling.

Rhys groaned against her mouth. “Don’t you know, Feyre darling, you will be my top research subject? With all your many powers, you’ll probably be the most interesting fae I could study.” His voice was low, and his hands were skimming across her body, her hips, her waist. She loved how she could see his eyes go darker, his breathing heavier under her attention. “And when we’re done I’ll buy you a necklace of quartz, and you can wear it always, so I can take minute-by-minute calculations. For…research.”

#acotar fanfiction #acotarfanfic #feysandfic #feysand #Feyre #rhysandfanfiction #rhysand #rhys with glasses #nerdy rhys #philosopher rhys #feyre is tired #what is magic anyway

[separatist-apologist]

I have read a few variation of fae. And one of them is where A human pray for his husband t return and a fae heard her prayer and cae in as old man in disguise. Though I fell put of interest with the series, I like this idea.

Elain praying for the return of Grayson, only for Lucien to heard it and be "ur hubby home*

I feel like I read a book with this premise that I didn't enjoy and so I never finished it, but this plot is so unhinged. The potential is so good, actually

#i do love it for elucien #but ALSO for feysandf #this is the exact dumbassery rhys would engage in

[mmvalentine]

Lockdown Lovers, pt 4 | Feysand

Modern pandemic AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5. Warning, it’s about to get smutty up in here.

Feyre honestly had not been planning this. She just wanted some human company, and Rhys was literally her only option. And then when they had started cuddling on the couch, yeah, that was really nice too. She was so affection deprived it was ridiculous.

And might explain why she had totally lost her cool and gone from lying down with him to trying to get her tongue down his throat.

It hadn’t started like this. At first, it was this one, long kiss. Where neither of them were really expecting it but fuck if it didn’t just fill her up like she was finally breathing again. And by the way their lips moved, finally, but deepened instead of coming apart, it seemed very much that Rhys felt the same way.

Maybe it was the fact that they were both sorely needing some physical contact. Maybe they were going a little- or a lot- stir crazy after a month in the tiny apartment. Maybe it was inevitable that sex happened when you lock two young people in a room together.

Or maybe, just maybe, Rhys was as attracted to her as she had been to him these past four weeks.

The reason didn’t actually matter. Not when his teeth clamped down softly on her bottom lip. Not when she gasped at the sensation, causing her lips to part and leaving enough room for Rhys’ tongue to slip into her mouth.

The taste of him rushed over her, sea and citrus. Like the way he smelled, but everywhere, inside her, filling her head. Feyre leaned into him, trying to increase the contact between them.

Rhys’ hands at her waist started to move. First a squeeze, then sliding under Feyre’s sweater. His calloused skin against her stomach was so warm, she moaned a little at the touch. Then his hands were sliding up, nails scratching lightly at her rib cage and skirting under her bra. She arched into his touch, and their breathing got heavier.

Slowly, trying not to break the kiss, Feyre turned around to face Rhys. She sat on her heels, but Rhys reached out and pulled her closer, settling her legs either side of him. Feyre laid her arms around his neck, and when her hips rolled forward of their own accord, both of them groaned at the friction between them. Feyre’s eyes opened as their lips came apart, and she found herself staring, falling, into Rhys’ violet eyes. The movie was long forgotten, but the flickering light looked like stars in his dilated pupils.

Rhys leaned his forehead on hers and put his hands on her hips, rocking up into her again. She watched the violet disappear some more. Then he was kissing her again, and Feyre pulled him in with her arms. Rhys’ hands came up between them, and smoothed circles at her sides, then over her ribs, then finally squeezed over her breasts. The sound she made seemed far away in her own ears, but seemed to spur Rhys on.

He moved his hands to cup her ass, and pulled her further up onto him, so that she could feel more of his hard erection. She reached back and covered his hand in her rear with hers, squeezing over it to direct him. Rhys didn’t need telling twice- he grabbed handfuls of her backside and started moving her on him in earnest.

Feyre slid her hands up the front of his hoodie, and Rhys pulled back from her to yank it off over his head. He threw it somewhere she didn’t bother seeing, and her hands were back on him immediately. She traced the intricate, curling tattoos that she had always found sexy. She flexed her fingers against the hard muscles of his chest and wanted suddenly to lick him all over. But before she could, Rhys was pushing her own shirt up and tugging it off.

She reached for him, but Rhys was was faster. He had his hands cupped around her breasts, and was staring down at them. His eyes went completely black. Rhys squeezed once, and smoothed his thumbs over her nipples, peaking hard through her white lace bra.

More gently than the hunger in his gaze suggested, Rhys put his mouth on her. Kissed the swell of flesh above the cup of the bra, as his hand worked the clasp behind her. Feyre arched her back to his lips, and then the lace fell away and he had her left nipple between his teeth. When his groan vibrated against her sensitive skin, she almost came on the spot.

Rhys moved to the other breast and while he worked his tongue over her, his hands slid into her shorts over her ass. Feyre’s fingers curled in his hair, and the pull caused a very low, very male sound to fall from Rhys’ lips.

He straightened up suddenly, causing Feyre to gasp, and laid her down on her back. Feyre reached from him, pulling him back to her as soon as possible, and crushing her lips to his. The full weight of him was divine.

After a minute, Rhys slowed. A protest formed on Feyre’s tongue, but Rhys looked down at her with lust glazed eyes.

“Not that I’m not completely enjoying dry-humping you into this couch,” he said. “But, my bedroom is about three steps that way.” He tossed his head in its direction.

“So is mine,” Feyre giggled. “Well, yes. Would you… like to move this to one of said bedrooms?”

Feyre’s heart stuttered in her chest. “Yours,” she breathed. She had always wanted to be inside his room.

“Mine it is,” Rhys said, and with that, scooped Feyre smoothly into his arms and carried her down the short hallway. ****

I’ve got the jitters, do you have the jitters?

I was going to finish it here, but instead I'm going to do full-blown sex from Rhys’ POV, because Rhys’ POV is fucking hot. Convince me otherwise.

TAGLIST: I was asked about a Lockdown Lovers list by @artemisausten (here you go darling), at the moment it's just the one but if you'd like to be tagged of course I'd be delighted.

#feysand #feysandfic #acotar #acomaf #acosf #rhysand #smut #modern AU #mine #sorry for the extra long postscipt

[quakeriders]

quakeriders’ new feysand taglist

reblog this post if you want to be tagged in my feysand fics. likes and replies do not count. more info under the cut.

my old taglist is large, seemingly broken and full of ppl who don’t interact with my fics.

if you don’t want to be on the tag list, you can follow my sideblog @feysandfic where I only post my fics to. (if you turn on notifications on that blog, you’ll get push notifications on mobile.)

#feysand #feysand fic #acotar #acotar fic

[popjunkie42]

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfiction

Find me on AO3!

Feysand:

Hate Me Instead 🌶️ - Rhysand and Feyre both struggle with her first visit to the Night Court in this alternative version to early events in ACOMAF. What if Rhysand had stuck around for more for lessons and both of them were making rather poor decisions? From Rhys's POV.

Eureka - A one-off where Rhysand finds something exciting in one of his dusty old books, and goes on a late-night research tear, much to Feyre's amusement. Nerdy Rhys wears glasses.

Books and Wings - A very fluffy sweet one-off where Feyre goes to the library in the House of Wind to ask Nesta for a book recommendation. Post ACOSF, the sisters work to build their healing relationship.

Present - Written for Feysand Week 2023. Feyre and Rhys have fallen into a comfortable pattern of training, bantering, and living life on the precipice of war and uncertainty. Rhys tries to enjoy their newfound domesticity while moving between the past, present and future.

One for My Baby, One for the Road - Five nights Feyre lost to the faerie wine Under the Mountain.

Enchanted, Enthralled 🌶️ - Vampire!Feyre is unleashed upon an unsuspecting Rhysand

Blossoming in Winter - (ongoing) A first Hybern war AU inspired by the story of Faramir and Eowyn in Lord of the Rings. Written for the ACOTAR 2023 Gift Exchange for @witchlingsandwyverns

ACOTAR Poetry

Under The Mountain

Thorns

Huntress I

Calanmai

Knight Errant

Also now find some of my Feysand fanfic recommendations!

I always welcome your thoughts and comments. Feel free to message me if you ever want to chat fanfiction. I don’t bite (unless you ask me to).

#acotar #feysand #acotarfanfic #acotar fanfiction #rhysand #feyre #poetry #acomaf #fanfic #feysandfic #smut

[popjunkie42]

Hate Me Instead - a Feysand Fic

I did a thing. Please find the first two chapters of my fic Hate Me Instead on AO3.

It is dark and horny, like my soul. And filled with some delicious self loathing.

I haven’t done this in a long time. I hope you enjoy it. I am always open to notes and constructive criticism if you want to message me.

Originally I was going to make this a short fic of about four chapters, but the ideas are expanding in my mind so I might keep going...I’ll be posting Chapters 3 and 4 on M/W next week and from there we will see!

Hate Me Instead

Summary: A Rhysand POV of Feyre’s first visit to the Night Court. What if Rhysand had stuck around more, and everyone was sad and making bad decisions? 

Tags/Warnings: Smut, a few mentions of Amarantha, some very mild violence, everyone’s sad

But when I met Feyre on Calanmai, disheveled and human and so very breakable, I knew that something precious and wild and powerful had come to Prythian. Even as I wouldn't let myself admit what this path straight to her had meant, how I felt when her grey eyes bore into me, me who had not been seen fully in decades, the High Lord who was powerful but broken and tainted by those years of torture…to be paired with Feyre meant something unexpected and unfathomable was about to be released. Feyre, with her human heart, come to turn Prythian on its head, as if the Cauldron and Mother had simply been waiting for her arrival.

And she did.  The human with fire in her veins, Feyre who stormed into Amarantha’s court with nothing but a dagger and some arrows on her back, Feyre who burned and wept and raged and finally washed Prythian clean of the stain of Amarantha with her own blood.

Feyre, who hated me.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #rhysand #rhysandfanfiction #Feyre #feysandfic #smut #love me some self loathing #what happens in the library stays in the library #feyre x rhysand

[popjunkie42]

Hate Me Instead Chapter 7

FINALLY!

I have had this chapter like 90% written for a while, but for some reason I had to slog through the training scene. I hope it is still fun because it kind of killed me.

Hate Me Instead - Chapter 7, Spark

Whole work on AO3

Training! Flirtations! Cassian shows up! A sexy cliffhanger! I love this chapter. 

Snippet:

After an hour, I thought she was perhaps about to master her powers just so she could murder me.

“None of this is helping,” she bit out. “‘ Will it into being ?’ What is that even supposed to mean?”

I had all the patience in the world. Perhaps Feyre didn’t know the hard path that lay before her. But her magic was ready. She just had to figure out how to find it.

“It will take time,” I said to her. “You’ll try every way we can think of to coax it out. You’ll try and fail, until one time you won’t. And then we’ll take the next step.”

“Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher.”

I hummed at that. “Remember how you’ve found the power in the past. What brought it forth?”

She paled a bit at that. I wondered what memories were flashing before her.

“When I’m angry,” she said, hesitantly, not meeting my eyes. “Or…afraid.”

I was trying. I was trying very hard not to wonder what fear had forced her powers to the surface, unbidden.

“Well. Since I’m not about to toss you into the fire, I suppose it will have to be anger.”

It was familiar by now. That sense of her ire focused on me.

“Which, given your terrible temper, should make this all rather easy.”

“I find it quite easy to be pleasant around everyone else. Somehow it’s only you and your insufferably smug face that inspires such rage.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” Her eyes said I had hit a nerve. “You’re trying so hard, Feyre. The ridiculous lengths you’ll go to pretend that all you feel towards me is annoyance and disdain. That you don’t want me.”

I couldn’t tell if the blush spreading on her cheeks was from anger or my words striking home. I knew which one I wanted. I knew I was skirting on dangerous territory, but I couldn’t help the feeling of a thrill as I taunted her with everything I wanted to be true.

“It’s all right. Who could blame you? After all, I am quite stunning. The whole package, really. Frighteningly intelligent, devastatingly beautiful, ridiculously charming…I suppose I’ve just come up with the plans for our next writing lesson.” I could have sworn her lip was about to curl into a snarl. “And that’s not to mention a memory I have of receiving some particularly interesting thoughts when I showed you my wings.”

“You claim to want to teach me, yet somehow every lesson turns into endless compliments to yourself,” she bit out.

“I thought that admiring me was a common hobby we both shared.”

She glared.

“Any fire yet?” I asked with a grin.

Feyre gritted her teeth. “No. Maybe you should get someone else to teach me. Someone who knows what they’re doing and doesn’t have to resort to smug arrogance to get what they want.”

“What I want?” I asked.

She was defiant at that, lifting her chin. “I’m sure you have plenty of other important things to do. I imagine you’re sitting here on the floor with me to prepare your weapon against Hybern, all for your own scheming.”

“You can be your own weapon against Hybern. I asked for your help and I’m patiently awaiting your answer. And who says you’re limited to Hybern? Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, Feyre? Some fire and claws to shred at me for all my transgressions?” I smiled.

Her look was murderous. “You won’t be smiling so much if I ruin your pretty face.”

My grin was genuine. “So you do think I’m pretty?”

The spark of flame in her palm startled both of us.

“There . Now that’s some progress. What did it feel like?” I prodded.

Feyre was transfixed by her hands, now outstretched. “I don’t know. Like anger.”

“Think about the flame. Where did it come from?”

She thought for a moment. “From…from inside. From my chest. And then, like something was crawling under my skin, through my arm. And it…jumped.”

I nodded. “Your power can be like a river flowing through you. And you will learn how to dig the channels, how to control where and how it flows.”

“A river? But it’s fire.”

I clicked my tongue. “Well, today during our reading lessons we’ll add in something about metaphors.

“Prick,” she hissed. I laughed.

This was going to be fun.

I couldn’t help myself. I was delighted. Feyre still had little control over any of it, but sitting so close I could feel the power waking up within her, crackling under her skin. I wondered if she would burn me if I touched her. I longed to find out.

“Should we practice something else?” I asked, shifting to my hip and leaning forward towards her, my hands planted on the carpet in between us. She watched me like I was a stalking wolf. “I’ve been dreaming,” I whispered, “of your claws ripping off my clothes.”

Her gaze could have branded me. I refused to drop it. I heard her breath hitch a bit and the beating of her heart. A small knot was forming in my chest.

Before, my flirtations had always been…theoretical, with a guaranteed rebuff from her. I certainly was very aware of any small effect I had on her. The quick beating of her heart, an unwanted blush on her cheek. I cataloged every moment for my own enjoyment, assured that at least she found my outward form appealing, even if she hated it every time I opened my mouth.

But now, now that I had tasted her skin, now that I knew how she felt inside…

Her lips parted slightly, and I could see the moment her eyes turned from annoyance to something…different.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Mor chirped from the edge of the room.

Both our heads whipped around at the intrusion.

“We’ve been training,” I said, my words clipped.

“Yes, I can see that.” Mor said with a smile.

Feyre leaned back, crossing her arms.

“A certain mutual acquaintance wanted me to remind you that your lordly presence is due at a meeting in an hour,” Mor said cheerfully.

I hadn’t forgotten. Cassian. Devlon. Strategies with the Illyrian camps.

“You’re leaving?” Feyre asked. I turned my head back to her, our bodies still close.

“Just until this evening. And I’ve left you some writing lessons I think you’ll particularly enjoy.” I said. She huffed at me. “Try not to miss me too much.” I said, smiling.

She had, somewhat, seemed upset. But now she was scowling at me, an adorable furl curling in her brow.

Mor sighed rather dramatically. It was time to go.

“Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone. If you explode, I’d really like to watch,” I said to Feyre.

Her glare said maybe we should practice ice, next.

#acotar fanfiction #acotarfanfic #acotar #acomaf #feysand #feysandfic #feyre x rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #cassian #mor #wip

[popjunkie42]

Hate Me Instead - Chapter 6

A new chapter of my Feysand fic! Rhys fetches Feyre for her second visit to the Night Court. An ACOMAF AU.

Hate Me Instead - read everything on AO3

Chapter 6 - Fire and Ice

A short chapter this week as I’m finishing up the next one. Which is gonna be so good, I’m excited. Feyre training, some spice is coming, and Cassian might make an appearance.

Weekly updates as long as I don’t drop the ball!

I live for your comments and kudos and suggestions. Thanks for reading!

Snippet:

Ice-cold night was pouring out of the crack at the bottom of her door. It eddied and curled around my feet, colder than a winter’s night.

I knocked.

“Stay away,” her voice was muffled by the door. “I can’t stop it.”  I heard her heaving sobs in between words.

“I’m coming in, Feyre.”  The doorknob was frosted over, and I had to jiggle it a few times to dislodge the ice.

As her door swung open a cloud of darkness spilled out into the hallway. The entire room was blanketed, swirling furiously and somewhere in the darkness I could hear her sob, hear her struggling to pull in breath.

“Don’t,” she gasped.

I stepped into the black room.

I felt gently for the bond, not wanting to disturb her, but following it like a guide through the impenetrable darkness. The cold whipped around my face and I could feel frost forming in my hair, my eyebrows. My breath came out as foggy mist.

I began to send my own darkness out, gently. I thought of warm spring nights with the stars sparkling overhead. The moon when she was just a sharp glowing crescent. It began to furl about the room soothing the swirling madness.

I found Feyre in the corner, on all fours, her back heaving wildly as she sobbed and tried and failed to draw in deep breaths. The night swirled around her, keeping her from sight until a small break would afford me a glimpse of her form, tears frozen on her cheeks.

I got down on my knees and reached for her slowly, with my hand, and with my mind. Seeing her like this, I felt like my chest would split in two. I gently scraped the edges of her shield.  

Pain. She was in so much pain.

“I can’t…breath…” she gasped out.

I sent her gentle images laced with calm. I remembered last week, sitting on the shoreline just outside of Velaris, watching the moon over the ocean as the waves rolled in slowly. I thought of the sunrise over the mountains outside the palace just this morning.

Somewhat unbidden, I thought of her face on Calanmai, when she stepped out of my arms and I saw her for the first time.

Her breathing was still ragged, uneven but her desperate gasping began to calm. I placed my frozen hand on top of her own.

“I’ll hurt you,” she warned.

“I’ll be all right.”

Gently, I stroked her hand, my own version of calming night finally gaining hold and reaching her corner. She didn’t look at me, indeed, I didn’t even know if she was aware of anything around her. But her breathing continued to slow and her hunched shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“One time, when I was six, I had this tutor that I hated. Master Euphrates.” I told her. I continued to brush my fingers gently along the bones of her hand. “He was trying to teach me math on the abacus and I just wasn’t having any of it. After an hour of lessons, he lost his temper and snatched it out of my hand. I just…saw red. And the next thing I knew we were both screaming.”

I shuddered a bit at the memory. So long ago, but I could still hear his piercing cries in my mind.

“I didn’t even know at the time about all of my powers. But I had started slicing into his mind. If my father hadn’t heard, hadn’t come running…” I shook my head.

I could hear the echoes of my mother’s voice at the edges of my mind.

Oh Rhys. Oh my sweet boy.

“When I was that young, when my powers were so new, only my parents could keep me in check. My father, because I was terrified of him and he could still dominate me. And my mother, because I would do anything for her without a second thought. But after that incident, they got me help. They found someone to teach me, how to control it, how to wield it.”

My lips twitched a bit at another memory, Amren, the terrifying beast, glowering at my six year old self with distaste and then motioning for me to sit before her for our first lesson.

Feyre’s breathing had evened out. Her arms were shaking with the weight of holding her steady, but her hand was warming under my own.

“You’re not alone, Feyre. There are people that can help you. I can help you.” I offered gently.  At that, she finally broke from her stupor and looked at me.

Her eyes were dark, empty, her face splotched with tears. But she regarded me warily.

“Is this really you?” She rasped out, her voice hoarse. “I don’t know…I don’t know which one is you.” Her shields were nonexistent. I saw her thoughts, of myself Under the Mountain, in that dark room beside Amarantha’s throne after I had caught her and Tamlin tangled together. I saw myself through her eyes, my teeth bared in a snarl, my eyes full of rage. Felt, as she did, her wrists straining under my grip, fearing the bones would snap.

I winced and turned away.

“Are you in my head?” Her voice was frantic now, the panic edging back in. “Are you just…manipulating me? How would I even know?”

She got off of her knees then, pulling her hand away from me and curling up into the corner. Another word from her and I thought I might shatter into dust.

“I’m not controlling your mind. I know you don’t have many reasons to trust me,” I said. “But let me work to earn your trust. I want to help you. Let me help you.” I pleaded.

The darkness ebbed away, leaving us sitting on the floor together on the red rug, the room around us in disarray. She bit her lip and said something entirely unexpected.

“I want to talk to Mor.”

#acotar #acotarfanfiction #acomaf #feysand #feysandfic #rhysand #Feyre #mor

[mmvalentine]

But You pt 2 | Feysand

Modern AU. Read Part 1 Part 3

Rhys hadn't seen Feyre in a year.

He had meant to see her, of course, but their colleges were so far away, and both he and Feyre had been busier with their workloads than they had anticipated. Feyre, in fine arts, had been part of no less than four community exhibitions since she had started. And Rhys in journalism had been told it was compulsory for him to join the school newspaper in his first year, so that ate up a lot of spare time.

And then of course there was that little voice in his head that played Feyre's words back to him day in, day out.

"You always want to see just me."

Rhys didn't know if she had meant it to sound accusatory, but had realised that night that he had monopolised her their whole life. She had been so keen to leave town and it suddenly occurred to him that out in the world, she would be free of him, wouldn't have to look out for him all the time, wouldn't have to think about the weird little hermit who hadn't bothered to make any other friends.

So Rhys put a lot of effort into to trying to wait until she initiated contact, to make sure that she had enough room to breathe and grow like she deserved without the stress of him hanging onto her. There were phone calls here and there, and Feyre always forwarded him the pamphlets for her shows. They were often on weeknights when gallery spaces were cheap to rent, and so Rhys never went. But he followed voraciously on social media and made sure to always share her work.

Missing Feyre was... was something she'd never understand, because she had actual healthy social networks. For Rhys, it had always been just Feyre, and being so far away from her made him feel like he was missing a limb. His arms, his legs, his Feyre. That's how it always had been, and he carried the ache around with him like a phantom itch.

Then finally his semester ended and Feyre called him up.

"Rhys!" she said when he picked up. The sound of her voice sent shivers down his spine, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers before he answered. He didn't want her to hear the shake in his voice. Didn't want to put his weakness on her, like he always did.

"Hey you," he managed to say. "Rhys, how come I haven't seen you all year?" Feyre asked him. "Because we're first years and being at the bottom of the food chain is a full time gig?" Feyre laughed, the husky sound of it melting Rhys' insides. "Well, it's officially our day off. When do I get to see my best friend?" Rhys shoved his phone between his ear and his shoulder, and continued folding his shirts.

"Well," he said, "I'm actually in your neighbourhood this weekend for an event, if you want to catch up." He was lying. "That would be amazing!" Feyre yelled. "You sure it's not too far?" "Of course not, I need to be there anyway." He didn't. "I'm packing my bag as we speak." He was. "Alright well, give me a call when you get here. I can't wait to see you." "Me neither," Rhys said, and his heart squeezed so painfully he closed his eyes. "Okay I guess I'll see you soon then! Bye!" Don't go, Rhys wanted to beg. Instead, he forced himself to say "Bye, Feyre," and hang up the phone.

In the end it took him 30 hours to drive down the coast. He didn't tell Feyre that. Just arrived breathless at the address she had given him, and knocked on her front door. Waited a second, then the door opened, and Feyre appeared, and Rhys was whole once more.

"Hey," he said, and then Feyre was hugging him and he was burying his face in her masses of honey-gold hair.

Inside her house, Feyre made them hot bitter tea and sat opposite him at the kitchen bench. She leaned forward with her hands in the sleeves of her sweater, and Rhys instinctively leaned forward too. It had been so long since he had seen her in person, so long since he had touched her.

"So," she said. "What's this event that you're going to?" "Event?" Rhys stared into her grey-blue eyes. "Yeah, what's so important you crossed the country for?" "Oh." Rhys remembered his excuse for coming up. "Yeah. I'm on assignment for my school newspaper." "In California?" "Yes? It's, uh..." he glanced at the newspaper folded up on the table. "The Adult Convention." Adult convention?! Feyre just raised an eyebrow.

"Well, it's a controversial topic, you have to admit. It's been banned in some states." Probably. "Right. So, for the sake of public interest and social conversation, you're going to go hang out with a lot of nearly naked people, and peruse the latest technology in self-pleasure." Rhys cocked head. "Interested in coming along, Feyre darling?" She snorted. "Not really my scene," she said. Rhys' eyes sparked. "Then what does turn you on?" She reached out and smacked him upside the head.

Rhys caught her fingers, and brushed his lips against them.

"I've missed you," he said quietly. Feyre's face softened, and she stroked his cheek gently. "I've missed you, too," she said. She dropped her hand, but Rhys held onto it on the table top and rubbed his thumb in her palm. "You've no idea," he said. "I missed your skin." "You did always need a lot of affection," Feyre murmured. "Is no one giving you hugs up there?" Rhys shook his head. "Not one," he said. He slid his elbows forward and put Feyre's hands on his face. "I'm starved." She leaned a little closer, and smiled fondly at him. "You big baby," she crooned. He put his forehead on hers, the magnetic pull of her overwhelming.

"You know," he said. "I think that I spent so much time with you I got desensitised. Now that I've been away... I can barely handle you." "Rhys," she sighed. Her breath blew across his lips, and not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to taste her. To just move an inch closer, and lick the air from her lungs off her tongue.

At that moment, the sound of keys in the front door startled them apart. Feyre sat up straight, her finger slipping through his grasp and he growled under his breath.

"Hey Feyre," came a voice. A male voice. "Hey guys," Feyre called back. Guys plural?

Next thing he knew, two enormous men shouldered through the door with grocery bags, and filled the kitchen immediately, breaking the little tea-steam bubble they had at the table.

"Guys, this is my best friend from home, Rhys. Rhys, these are my housemates Cass and Az."

Rhys just gave a curt nod of his head.

"Nice to meet you," the bigger one said. "We're going out later, our friends have just set up a bar downtown and it's opening night. You're welcome to join us." That was the smaller one.

"No thanks," Rhys said smoothly. "I'm not into crowds." Feyre frowned. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'm going." "Nah, I've got to be up early." "Well," Feyre said, "then I'll stay here with you. I don't get to see you very often." "Aw no Feyre you have to come!" the bigger one wheedled. Cass, possibly.

And then Rhys remembered that Feyre had been tied to him for eons, and no one was as unfair to her as he was.

"Feyre you go," he said. "I have to go to that event anyway, remember?" "I thought that was tomorrow," Feyre said sadly. It almost broke him. "It's tonight, I have to leave tomorrow. Deadlines, and all that."

"Okay, we're sorry you'll miss it," Az said. "Feyre, we'll head off about six, okay?" Feyre smiled and gave him a nod, and then they disappeared into one of the bedrooms.

"So... those are your housemates huh?" "Yeah, they're lovely." "And are you... dating either of them?" "Rhys they're dating each other. They literally just disappeared into the same room." "Right, right."

Feyre stared at him.

"What's going on with you?" "Nothing," Rhys said. Too quickly. "Well, I should get going." "What? You just got here," Feyre said. "I know, I'm sorry. I really do have to get to that event." "Don't you want to stay and meet Cass and Az properly?" Rhys rolled his eyes. "You know how I feel about other people." Feyre gave him a half smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah. I do."

Rhys headed to the door. Before he could turn the handle, Feyre wrapped her arms around him once more.

"Let's not leave it so long next time, okay?" she said. "Okay," Rhys agreed, and didn't mean it.

He drove the thirty hours home, and when he saw an ad for exchange students to Brazil a week later, he put in an application.

****

Is this toooo much angst?!

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher

MASTERLIST

#feysand #feysandfic #acotar #angst #mine

[mmvalentine]

Home is Where You Are pt 8 | Feysand

Girl next door AU. Smut, unrestrained smut. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Kissing Feyre on the countertop had Rhys out of his damn mind. He had imagined this moment so many times, had such grand plans to take it slow with her and not rush or pressure her into anything. What he had not counted on was the ferocity that Feyre came at him with, and how incomprehensibly sexy it was that not only was she letting him touch her, but she wanted to touch him too.

So there they were, somehow having stripped off most of their clothes and on their way into Rhys' bedroom. Rhys laid her down, caged his body over hers, and the feel of her pressed down under his body had him in pieces. He took a second to get back in control of himself.

Then Feyre licked him from chest to chin, and had him shuddering into her. Slow, slow, went the voice in his head. He wasn't going to ruin this. Not with Feyre.

Before she could completely break him, Rhys slid down her body and put his mouth back between her legs. Already tightly wound from being licked on the countertop, Feyre bucked her hips immediately against his tongue. He worked her first in broad, slow strokes, then got faster and shorter as he narrowed to her clit.

"No," Feyre panted. "Slow down or I'll..."

Rhys sped up. At the same time, he reached his hands up, scratching his nails up her stomach and then squeezing his hands over her breasts. Feyre came on his lips, and although the thought made him want to bury himself deep inside her, it also gave him a glow of satisfaction. And put him back in control.

Feyre was scrabblng for him now, trying to pull him back up toward her. But as her climax faded, Rhys smoothed his fingers lightly over her still throbbing centre. Letting her calm down, and then building her back up again.

"Not yet," he said.

As Feyre's breathing was just starting to shallow again, he slid up slightly to press hot, open mouthed kisses on her hips, her stomach, her ribcage, her nipples. Waited until Feyre was lost to the world in her pleasure, then slid his fingers inside her. He had barely started to move them when she broke over again.

"That's two," he murmured.

Feyre was incoherent beneath him. This time, he didn't let her come down. Rhys pumped his fingers fast in and out of her, curling them to feel the rough patch inside her. His other hand spread over her chest, just below her throat to hold her down on the bed. Feyre's hands pushed against the headboard, and she bounced her hips to meet his fingers. When he added his tongue, she came so hard and so loudly he was sure she'd be heard down the hall. And he fucking loved it.

"And that's three," he purred. Feyre's head fell back against the pillow, and Rhys came up to lie beside her as her muscles let go. She breathed deeply, near comatose on his bed. Rhys ran his lips from her chin to her ear lobe, and chuckled softly. Feyre turned her head toward the sound, and he caught her lips with his.

"Sleep, Feyre," Rhys said. Feyre's mouth puckered as if trying to form a protest, but it was no use. She was out in seconds.

Rhys watched her face relax into sleep, and laughed to himself silently. He curled himself around her, and pushed his nose against the nape of her neck, where the smell of her shampoo and skin sank to the core of him. He was still hard as steel and wildly uncomfortable of course, but if it meant Feyre got to be safe and comfortable, he was more than happy to wear it. Rhys fell asleep to the deep rhythm of Feyre breathing in his bed.

And woke in raptures.

Rhys was dreaming of something peaceful and nondescript. He didn't know how it turned so dirty. He dreamed that his cock was being thoroughly sucked, his muscles both tensing and liquid on the bed. His shivers of pleasure were hard enough to drag him back into the real world. Where he looked down, and found Feyre indeed with her mouth wrapped around him like the patron saint of heavenly mornings.

"Fuucckkk," Rhys breathed out, not awake enough to say anything more articulate.

He rolled his hips a few times, lost in the deliciousness of it, then reached for Feyre. She let go of him only long enough to say, "my turn." And then she had him back in her mouth and if he could have knelt at her feet and worshipped her he would.

This absolute nonsense went on for another few minutes, then Rhys woke up enough to find that if he didn't get inside her right the fuck now he might just die. So he sat up, pulled Feyre upward and rolled her onto her back. Feyre let out a yelp of disapproval, and tried to grab his cock again, but he had her trapped beneath him and started lazily sliding his dick up and down Feyre's hot centre.

Now they were both fully awake and fully naked, Rhys marvelled at the satin of her bare skin all over him. Her breasts squashed against his chest. Her hipbones pressing into his stomach. Her gorgeous, lovely legs sliding under his. Rhys ground into her again, and kissed his way along the under side of her jaw. The feeling of her growing wetter against him had his sanity skittering away again.

Feyre smoothed her hands down Rhys' back, and her nails on his backside made him impossibly harder. He kissed her lips, tongue finding hers, until she pulled away and gasped, "Rhys. Condom."

Rhys reached into his bedside drawer without letting any of his weight up off her. He kissed her again, opened the foil packet, and when he was ready he paused at Feyre's entrance with a question in his eyes.

"Rhysand you prick if you make me wait one more second I'll flip you over and do it myself."

Rhys broke into a grin, barking a laugh before slowly pushing into her.

Feyre's moan was heaven. Long and low and luscious, he barely registered that he was making the same sound, too. He had meant to pause and give her time, but she was so wet she had him sliding all the way in. Their eyes met, and he kissed her perfect lips in gentle reverence. Then he pulled out and did it again.

Feyre's legs wrapped around Rhys' waist as he thrust into her, pulling him in more even as he tried to take it slow. She lifted her hips to meet him, bumping up their speed to what she needed. Rhys put his head on her collar bone, and when her hands tugged through his hair he picked up his pace. She felt much, much too good. He scooped his hands behind her neck, and tilted her jaw so he could get his tongue in the hollow of her throat.

When he moved up to her earlobe, Feyre breathed "more."

So Rhys changed their position. Flipped her over and gripped her soft ass as he took her from behind. This drew even more intense sounds from Feyre, that drove Rhys wild and before he knew it he was pounding into her. Feyre arched her back so he could get deeper, and started to moan in earnest.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, and the memory of her dreaming of him on the couch when she had said the same thing had Rhys pulling her up against him. Feyre lifted an arm to the back of his neck, and his fingers found her clit. She started to melt against him, and he held her up and kept fucking hard into her until she was screaming his name. Rhys didn't let himself come until he knew her climax was over, but when she dropped to her hands and knees she looked back at him, and the sight of her in that position undid him.

Rhys dropped his forehead onto her back and came with a groan that had Feyre shivering around him, and that feeling, too, was incredible.

Rhys collapsed next to Feyre, and they lay like that for some time.

"Good morning to you too," Rhys said, when he could speak again. Feyre grinned. "It will be," she said, then climbed up to straddle Rhys, and all the gods damn it all if he wasn't hard again in an instant for her.

****

WELL. This was just one giant filth post now wasn't it. I know a few of you were a bit mad at me for cutting you off last time so I hope this makes up for it <3 Guess I better go find some of that... what do they call it? Plot?

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @asteria-of-mars@booksmusicandgoodvibes @burritowithfeels

#feysand #feysandfic #acotar #acomaf #acosf #rhysand #smut #mine

[mmvalentine]

Circus of Dreams, pt 4 | Feysand

Night Circus AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

In the end, no one came that first day. Rhys was not altogether surprised, it wasn't the first time it had happened and it certainly would not be the last.

Despite the lack of crowds, the day was not all bad. Sure, he had spent most of the day pacing his tent alone, but the minutes dancing with Feyre... well he wasn't sure when the last time he'd had that much fun was.

So, at the end of the day, when their official closing time hit and he was free to go back to his caravan, he was in a good mood and whistled as he walked.

Every night, dinner was served in the largest tent. It was an unkempt, sloppy affair, when performers were ravenous and no one was standing on ceremony. Rhys had rolled up his shirt sleeves joined the long table once he had picked up his serving of stew, and those he sat near nodded their acknowledgement without pausing their meal.

A couple of minutes later, he saw Mor enter the tent with Feyre. The ballgown was gone now, but it looked like Mor had not let her change into her faded old dress. Instead, she had Feyre in simple but elegant black wool skirt, and a soft white shirt tucked into it. They spotted Rhys and headed right to him.

"Evening ladies," he said. "Hello Rhysand, move over," Mor said, wriggling down next to him.

Feyre sat more gingerly opposite them, and Rhys' eyes sparkled at him. "It's a little rough in here," he said. "My apologies." "No," Feyre said, "I'm just surprised at how... different it is in here from out there." Rhys nodded. "We put on a beautiful show," he said, "but at night we're just a big messy family. Relaxing when you're off makes it easier to be fully engaged when you're on." Feyre smiled. "It's nice, actually. Dinners at home mostly consisted of shivering and trying to make soup out of bones." "Well then, dig in," Rhys said, and Feyre, not needing further invitation, did so.

Rhys went to sleep that night full and comfortable. But hours later, he woke to the sound of screams and the smell of smoke.

He burst out of his caravan, scanning the area, and soon found the source of the panic. Mor and Feyre's caravan was on fire, heavy benches propped up against the two doors in the side. Dark figures ran off into the night.

"You're not welcome here!" one of them shouted as he ran. Cassian took off after them, but Rhys dove toward the doors. He became aware of Amren beside him, and reached Feyre's door at the same time as Amren shoved aside the bench and yanked open Mor's. They hauled the girls out, coughing and spluttering, and dragged them away from the smoking wagon before letting them rest on the grass. A few of the others had run for buckets of water to douse the flames.

"What in the fuck was that?" Amren snapped. She was looking around furiously, propping Mor up while she searched for answers. Rhys didn't say anything, just sat grimly with Feyre as she continued coughing and checked her over for injuries. Someone ran up with water for them, and to report that the fire was now out.

Soon after, Cassian walked back into the camp, and in each of his hands was the collar of a young man. They dangled in his grip, resentment written over their faces.

"I found these," Cassian growled, addressing Amren. "And two cans of kerosene to boot." She stood, and looked them both over with disgust. "Just what in the hell do you think you're playing at?" she hissed at them. "People could have died." "Not our people," replied one sullenly. He spat at her feet.

Like lighting, Amren reached out and slapped the boy across the fight. "No," she snarled. "My people." She looked at Cassian.

"Say Cassian. Didn't we pass a big, cold looking river on the way in?" "Yes ma'am, I believe we did," was his reply. "Fantastic. Please toss these miserable excuses for men in said river, and let them know if I catch them around here again I will personally break all of their legs." "Yes ma'am." Cassian nodded, and strode off.

Amren pinched the bride of her nose. "Is everyone alright?" she asked. Mor and Feyre just nodded.

"Oh, Mor," Feyre said suddenly. "Your beautiful fabrics."

But Mor just smiled ruefully at her.

"They're just fabrics," she said. "We'll go in tomorrow and see what's left."

"Right," Amren said. "Morrigan, you can come sleep in my caravan. Feyre, go with Rhysand." She addressed the rest of the camp. "Everyone else go back to sleep. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

And with that, she left them. Mor hugged Feyre tightly, and checked again to see if she was okay. When she had ascertained that she was, she followed after Amren. And the rest of the crowd drifted off back to their caravans too.

"Come on," Rhys said gently, and took Feyre's arm under the elbow to help her up. She leaned on him as they walked, shivering slightly at the shock of what had happened.

Back in Rhys' caravan, Rhys had to help Feyre through the cramped space. He would have lit a candle, but after her ordeal, he thought it might be insensitive. So he guided her through the dark, and led her to the bed. Feyre sat down, then suddenly looked up at him with alarm in her eyes.

"Don't worry," he said. "You have the bed, I'll sleep on the floor."

Feyre looked like she was about to protest, but Rhys whipped out a spare blanket and got down before she could say anything. So, Feyre slid in between his sheets, and the thought of it made him shiver a little. He pushed the thought to the side, and closed his eyes.

A moment later, Feyre's voiced reached out though the dark.

"Rhys?" "Yes Feyre?" "They're not... coming back, are they?"

Rhys sat up. "Oh, darling. No, I shouldn't think so. Amren will have Cassian keep watch all night." "Okay," was all she said. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. What a start to your circus career." Feyre was quiet for a moment. "Thanks for pulling me out," she said. "Of course. I'm just glad we got to you quickly."

There was silence again, and Rhys had just started to drop off to sleep, when Feyre spoke again. "Rhys?" "Yes Feyre?" A pause. "I'm so sorry, I feel so deeply foolish. But I just wanted to check that you were still there." Rhys frowned into the dark. "It's not foolish. You were nearly burned alive in your caravan, I wouldn't sleep well either." "I started to drift off, then for some reason I panicked that you weren't there." "Okay. Would... would you like me to hold your hand?" Another pause. "I think that might help."

Rhys shifted closer to the bed, and tapped the frame so that she would know where his hand was. Immediately, he felt her small grip clutching him. He realised that this was the first time he was touching her without gloves, and the warmth of her skin was lovely.

"Mmm," she murmured. "That does help." Feyre yawned. "Rhys?" "Yes Feyre?" he whispered. "Thank you," she said. And shortly after that, she was asleep.

The next day, Rhys woke with a dead arm, but didn't mind. They left early, everyone a little bleary eyed, but with the scorched caravan still scenting the air with the stale smoke, no one complained as they packed up quickly and headed out of town.

Over in the next village, they set up and asked around for a carpenter to come have a look at the burnt wagon. Mor spent some time sifting through the wreckage, pulling out things that were salvageable. Unfortunately, since the boys had done such a thorough job of dousing the wood in kerosene, even though the fire hadn't burned very long the caravan was now unliveable.

They performed to a modest audience that night, and ate in relative quiet, everyone still a bit unsettled after the attack the previous night. Feyre left early, and when Rhys got back to his caravan, he found her sitting on the front step.

He gave her a gentle smile.

"Hello, Feyre darling," he said. "I... still don't have any place to live," she said by way of greeting. "Yes you do," he said. "You can live here."

Feyre turned and looked at his caravan. "It doesn't seem... very proper," she said slowly. "Well, neither does running away with the circus, and you've done that already." "I suppose that's true," Feyre mused. "If you're uncomfortable, I'm sure we can make other arrangements. Most people live with a partner or friend already, but they can always make room." Feyre shook her head. "I wouldn't want to put anyone out like that. I'm happy to stay if you are happy to have me." She paused. "Or, maybe I should just go home." "Nonsense," Rhys said quickly. "You haven't even seen half the things that need your attention. There's a massive clockwork pony that you would just love."

And so she stayed.

****

OH LOOK I COULDN'T MANAGE 2 DAYS OFF BECAUSE THE TRAFFIC STOPPED AND MY DOPAMINE SUPPLY GOT CUT OFF AND NOW I'M PANIC POSTING why am i like this you guys

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira

#feysand #feysandfic #acotar #acomaf #acosf #rhysand #night circus AU #mine

[mmvalentine]

Circus of Dreams, pt 8 | Feysand

Night Circus AU. In which we finally get to the smut. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 ao3

As a rule, Rhys didn’t talk to people about the magic. It had been something that had always been in his family, but his mother was very protective about it and now that she was gone, it had never seemed right to spill her secrets.

But when Feyre had asked him, Feyre dressed in his own work shirt with cheeks flushed from the cold and eyelashes dark with rain, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Suddenly, the magic felt lonely and he wanted nothing more than to have someone hold it with him.

So he sat them down and taught her in the same way his mother had taught him when he was a child. Know yourself. Know the universe.

And then Feyre, little timid Feyre who was scared of her own dreams, had reached up and brushed her perfect petal lips against his. So softly she could have been the breeze blowing, or the rain falling, or a mirage made of so many nights wondering what her kiss might feel like.

It wasn’t a possibly Rhys was willing to entertain.

So before she could go too far and make it not real, he crooked a finger gently under Feyre’s chin and brought her back to him.

He pressed his mouth to hers, and when she did not pull back, ever so carefully he took her bottom lip between his. She sighed at this, and his hands moved to cradle her jaw, his thumb moving over her chin. Rhys kissed her once more, afraid to break the spell of it, and then pulled back and searched her grey- blue eyes.

"Is this the magic you are teaching me?" Feyre murmured. Rhys gave a crooked smile. "It's a kind of magic," he replied. "Teach me some more," Feyre said.

So Rhys caught her lips again, and this time her hands slid into the hair on the back of his head, so he ran his tongue along her bottom lip and became vaguely aware that his hands had found their way to the small of her back.

Rhys squeezed her tighter to him, and the small sound that Feyre made had shudders stroking down the length of his spine. Almost tentatively, Feyre gave a small lick to Rhys' top lip, as if she was shyly copying his earlier movement. Did it again. Did it once more before Rhys took her face in both hands and rolled his tongue against hers, and then he was lifting her up and settling her in his lap. Feyre gasped in surprise, but then tangled her arms around his neck and pressed her chest closer to him. The lush press of her breasts had Rhys hard under her, and he forced himself to pull away.

"Careful Feyre darling," he said, laughter in his eyes. "You'll destroy a man like this." Feyre kept her face close to his, stroked her fingers down the back of his neck, and so slowly, rolled her hips into him "You mean like this?" she said. Rhys' eyes rolled a little, and he shivered under her touch. "Quite," he managed, fingers flexing at her waist. "I rather like this kind of magic," Feyre said, and began moving on his lap. Rhys' eyes, slid closed, and he rested his head on her sternum. "Well," he breathed, "then maybe you teach me for a bit." "I could do that," Feyre said. She scratched her nails against his scalp, and pressed a kiss to his jaw near his ear. It was too much, he was unraveling too fast.

Distraction, Rhys thought. I need a distraction.

"Have you been with a man?" Rhys asked. "Like this?" "One," Feyre said. "We lived a bit further out from the town you met me in. A small village, with not much to entertain. There was a boy I used to see." "Oh yes?" Rhys' breathing stuttered, as Feyre continued to move against him. Against one particular part of him. "We used to fuck in the barn on his father's property."

For some reason, the curse word on Feyre's lips flared the flame in Rhys' stomach. His hips bumped forward. "Did you now?" "It wasn't much," Feyre said. "Just a few bales of hay I could be bent over."

That broke him. In one fluid motion Rhys rose up over Feyre, so she was on her back with her legs still on either side of his hips, and his hands still under her back so he was resting on his elbows.

"Bent over, you say." The image floated before his eyes. "Sometimes," Feyre said breathlessly. Rhys flexed his hips, and now it was Feyre's turn to catch her breath. He relished the sound of it. "And this barn boy," he said. "Was he any good?" "Sometimes," Feyre said again. This time, Rhys ground against her properly, up and down the length of his erection, and the movement drew a moan from each of them.

Both of them being dressed in the soft pyjama pants that Mor had made everyone meant that Rhys could feel everything. The heat of her was incredible, and soon his mouth was back on hers and she was starting to lift her hips to guide the friction where she needed it. When her fingers pushed at his waistband, he was more than happy to oblige her and slid his pants the rest of the way off. Quickly followed by pulling hers off too, the fact that she started at his naked body with glazed eyes not at all escaping his attention.

Rhys settled back over her, and nipped at her bottom lip.

"The sight of you wearing my shirt and nothing else is entirely unfair," he said to her. Feyre slid her hands over his shoulders, and Rhys ran his naked cock up and down the seam of her, finding her already wet and ready for him. He shuddered and paused for a second, getting hold of himself. And then he did it over, and over again until Feyre was making the most exquisite sounds that mingled with the sounds of the pounding rain and made him both harder and also more determined to draw this out as long as he could.

But Feyre wanted more.

"Please," she begged him. "Please, Rhys." Her nails scratched at his shoulders, and his name on her lips had him nudging at her entrance and aching to be inside her. Feyre arched back and her eyes rolled. Rhys leaned down to her as he pushed his way in slowly.

"I'm going to make you forget that barn boy's name," he purred in her ear, and then pulled out a little before pushing all the way in. Again, both of them groaned together, and then his control slipped and he was rocking into her, the growing wetness of her driving him mad.

"Who makes you feel this way, Feyre?" he asked, watching her writhe beneath him. "No one," she gasped. He placed an open-mouthed kiss over her breast in reward, and Feyre arched up toward him. "Who fucks you like this?" he asked. "No one," she repeated. He kissed her other breast. Then he sat up on his heels, so he could use his fingers between her legs while he fucked her. Her moans got louder.

"What's the name of the boy from the barn?" he asked her. But Feyre was beyond words. "Unngh," was all she could manage. "That's what I thought," Rhys crooned. He moved his fingers faster. "Do you want to come, Feyre?" Feyre's hand shot out and clutched at the sheets. "Yes," she panted. "Yes, I... Rhys. Rhys. Rhys-"

And then she was climaxing with his name on her lips, and the image of it was so divine that Rhys followed straight after her, with his head in the crook of her neck and his teeth where her neck joined her shoulder.

For a while, he lay there, with the twin tattoos of her heartbeat below him and the driving rain above. Then he got up, cleaned them up and pulled Feyre into his arms.

"Are you okay?" he asked her. "Of course," Feyre said. "I have everything I want right here."

Then she fell asleep right on his chest, and as Rhys' eyes travelled over her soft lips, flushed cheeks, and perfect little nose, he marvelled at the truly astounding magic of her.

**** And that's a wrap. Such a huge and unbelievable thank you to everyone who stuck through it with me, you are all magic to me.

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-babies @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @maybekindasortaace @live-the-fangirl-life

#feysand #feysandfic #acotar #acomaf #acosf #rhysand #smut #night circus AU #mine #the end

[quakeriders]

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified

Summary: Feyre is an artist, who is looking for an inspiration and when she sees a drawing of a good looking demon she can't resist the urge to summon him — aka the demon!rhys au

Chapter 8

Feyre lost track of time, lost track of space or sense and everything else as Rhys’ lips moved slowly up her neck, leaving a trail of fire in their stead. She felt his hands sliding down to her hips, fingers finding the hem of her sweater and slipping beneath to touch her skin. And when his lips traced her jaw, teeth nipping every now and then, Feyre’s own hands gripped him tightly by his hair and she sunk down into his lap.

He was soft and hard and warm and so, so inviting that Feyre forgot why she had started touching him in the first place. Her breathing was heavy, her chest pressed to his and his soft lips finally trailing across her cheek and towards the corner of her mouth.

Read the rest on AO3 (if the link isn't working: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18132239/chapters/52469899)

(tag list under the cut)

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@itsinevitablebabe @mariamuses @that-odd-puzzle-piece @thoughtfuldreammilkshake @viajandosinalas @darkknightarrow @but-mrs @jiminie-paboo @feeoly @yuup-itz-me @hontohaunter @whilma-warfstache @musicmaam @literatureandotherkinks @over300books @empress-ofbloodshed @alingelina @dawn-in-latin @awkward-avocado-s @dayanna-hatter @jmbhorses @lowhangingtreebranches @burritowithfeels @justatallfangirl @themadafakasxd79-blog @volchitsa-fae @queenophelia @worldoffae @slytherin-25 @a-court-of-gays-and-glitter @magikfanatic @whiskeybusiness1776 @rickandjanewardfamily-blog @thegymnastdestiny-blog @thesirenwashere @faequeenaelin @running-with-thieves @wildernessfaerieee @ideklovee @illyrian-winfs @basicbittywitty @akcrion @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @vasudharaghavan @shadowstar2313 @empire-of-wildfire @bubbles-the-immortal @mis-lil-red @rosesandglass @ella-enchanted27 @faequeenoftheeast @highladyofthedark @do-as-you-dont @smaghed @meltalgel-ig @queenofxhearts @kralqoli44 @nerdperson524 @itzelacorminyestz @illyrianbeauty @kybaeza @sarahbringsoutmygay13 @notsosaneemma @faerie-queen-fireheart @littlehoneyybee @sleeping-and-books @seducemewithyourbookcolection @someonemagical @nicko996-blog @faellyrian-warriors @sailorsassley @alifletcher2012 @rowaelinforeverworld @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @readinginmygarden @dancemetovenus @thisreallyme @anonymous-butnotquite @overlycpinionated @highladyofthesith @amren-courtofdreams @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @rtheinkqueen @chemicha @armixers-unite @wealdend @littlerosethorns @reghix @thewilderheart @unassumingsodalovesherbooks @starlight-fangirl @amitynotpity @faefromthenorth @your-high-lady @vanilla28 @julemmaes @casbeandeanpie @fishoutoferoda @honken016 @thatonefangirl-mrc @idontyeetlikeiusedto @dazzlingbumfuzzle @aelinwhitethorn40 @tremendousbonkghostpanda @captainvirisaurusrex @tryingtokeeptrying @sjmsstuff @eve-of-the-night-court @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @girl-who-reads-the-books @rose-713 @starswhoanswer @goddessoffate96 @bookloverwhowantstowritebooks99 @squidvisious @bobeah12 @emilyrose111294 @shadowazriel @cmoff1 @dean-winchesters-impala-1967 @stxck-fxck @lovemollywho @whitethrone @loysydark @stargazedworld @lorcanswife @fallingintomagic @highladyofelfhame-remastered @meyademor @rolltide7 @goldfishh20 @rhysands-highlady @a-court-of-cressworth @artemis1802 @thenameisjaida-blog @technicallysizzlingcloud @misslonglegs @happy-smiling-things @blueeyes425 @occhitempestosi @darling-archeron @bat-wing-rhys @murphyslawthings @certain-mermaid @anachr0 @inez-lannister-stark-martell @liquifyme @virawolf @secret-lil-rendez-vous @awkwardlittleintrovert @books-and-dreamers @heroesofterrasen @mynewdreamwasyou @velarian-trash @cweeblr @itsafeziwearafeznowfezzesarecool @ichoosesakichu @lorynkay @myfeyrelady @akina-astute @bookloverkat @flowerspringsea @charincharge @th-th-th-thats-all-folks @bambamdallas @wifeofchrishemsworth @tswaney17 @highqueenofelfhame @empress-of-big-delusions @inrealliampain @daylightningg @joyceortiz13 @imheretooa @fangirltrash74 @notyourclassicshadowhunter @thesurielships @lilholmes @my-ships-will-never-be-sank @blues-socks @love-graciemay @lorcansalvaterree @bluefeathers17 @acer6437 @viridien-vixen @soup-that-is-too-hawt @tangledraysofsunshine @runawayrowan @yikesitsmaddie @philostuff @tonvstarktrash @l0sts0uls1128 @acobtr @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @emeraldbluexxxx @carlyrollsroyce @laina-sama @jellenett @thorkypig @tothemaas @bookishfairylights @nitrot150 @samibookishfan @anabelkay @a97girl @rapunzelswiftie @theogvodkaaunt @h-a-p-p-i-e-s @lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @lauraisfae @kingsflamebloom-insta @vi0let-femmes @illyrianbats @optimisticbooklover @cinemaaddict @elide-lochan-salvaterre @kylizzles @annejulianneh111 @myqueenjudeduarte-main @marvisbacon @notyourmomsnephilim @breezyfreezey @tonypetersteve @fourshizzle149 @ame233 @inconsolable-archfiend1025 @randomtogacotar22 @fi-fi-firefly @nish247 @ttakeitbacknoww @juliette-reads @lostandfallenstar @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @hellas-himself @blackthorns-herondales @thecarrioncrow @tavarillasgalen @avenrebekah @photofeesh @thestarwhowishes @standbislytherin @kronskoda @rairrai @spidey-nonsense @ashleycrost @th3-br0k3n-ang3l @highlady-of-dusk @somebodysqueen @kingdomofbrokenhearts @feysand-dot-acotar @missmathdork @rosegoldannie @hellhoundsinbelgravia @utterlyamelie @darknessinthediamond @embracetheweirdness7 @biandannoyed @othersideoftheportal @abillionlittlepieces @queenofdorkville @summernightskyy @highladyofherondale @iliveforfandoms226 @run-as-fast-as-you-caan @feyrearcherons @rory050 @kindofawalkingpoem @light-in-the-shadows72

#feysand #acotar #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #acotar fic #my fic #I'm trying something new with the ao3 only update posts. let me know if you like it?

[quakeriders]

quakeriders’ acotar au week 2019 masterlist

🎄LINKS 🎄

ao3 series tumblr tag general feysand masterlist reblog this post to be added to the tag list taglist is broken, please follow @feysandfic and turn on notifications organized by @acotarauweek

🎄PROMPT FILLS 🎄

day 01. one cup at a time [tumblr | ao3] 09.12.19, coffee shop au, 1.9k

day 02. house rules [tumblr | ao3] 10.12.19, roommate au, 3.5k

day 03. five kisses, three words, one question [part 1-2-3-4-5 | ao3] 11.12.19, holidays au, 9.8k+

day 04. inevitable [tumblr | ao3] 12.12.19, modern au, 2.6k

day 05. runes and bargains [tumblr | ao3] 13.12.19, hogwarts au, 1.1k

day 06. substitute [tumblr | ao3] 14.12.19, school/teacher au, 1k

day 07. our constellation [tumblr | ao3] 15.12.19, free soulmate au, 2.3k

#acotar au week #feysand #masterlist #acotar au week 2019 #IM GONNA POST THIS NOW BC I NEED THIS TO ACTUALLY GO AND WORK ON THESE #i already know day 3 is GONNA BE A VERY VERY LONG ONE #are we ready? im not ready!

[quakeriders]

hey, you know what would be kinda cool and would actually tell me that you liked one of my fics? if you were to reblog the actual fic instead of just liking or replying to it, like we’re on instagram, and then sending me an ask requesting an update for something that barely ten people have left comments on... 

update: some like to reblog ratios under the cut

pls keep in mind that at least one of those reblogs is me reblogging the post to my fanfic archive blog @feysandfic​

#like i know you CAN actually reblog things. you reblog dumb shit posts all the time #why dont you appreciate fanfiction as much as a bitch im sleepy post??? #i dont get it #personal // #you liking and replying but now reblogging basically tells me: cool but not worth further interaction

[quakeriders]

follow me on @feysandfic and turn on notifications to never miss any of my feysand fics.

I won’t be updating my taglist anymore, since it seems like only 250 mentions are allowed per post and my taglist has grown longer than this. All my feysand fics and nothing else will be reblogged to @feysandfic. follow and turn on notifications to be alerted by tumblr when i post a new one.

reblog this post if you want to be tagged in my feysand fics (additional info under the cut)

let me know if you don’t want to be tagged anymore

let me know if you changed your url (ex: was [old_url], pls update my tag)

make sure you can actually be tagged by looking at this list and changing your settings accordingly!

#feysand