just lots of problems

hi lovers im just here trying my best and reading

[radiolightning]

In case anyone is having a bad night:

Here is the fudgiest brownie in a mug recipe I’ve found

Here are some fun sites

Here is a master post of Adventure Time episodes and comics

Here is a master post of movies including Disney and Studio Ghibli

Here is a master post of other master posts to TV shows and movies

*tucks you in with fuzzy blanket* *pats your head*

You’ll be okay, friend <3

[meanwolfs-remade-deactivated201]

i will reblog this everytime it shows up because any of my followers could have a bad night right now

[becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot]

All these links, besides the first, are broken. So here’s some more.

Here’s an emergency compliment

Here you can play 2048

Here’s a playlist of Bob ross

Here’s a website to watch movie’s and shows for free

Here’s a website to watch documentaries for free

Here you can to nothing for two minutes

Here you can break something. It’s good for anger

Here’s a button to press to make everything okay

Here’s a site to cut something up (TRIGGER WARNING)

Here’s a site that makes you a website depending on a song you choose

Here’s a gay comic. It’s adorable

Here you can spend Bill Gate’s money

Here you can draw your own island

Here you can learn about patterns website’s use

Here you can get your life stats

Here you can listen to the Tucker Zone (Headphones needed)

Here you can see how fast you’re moving

Here you can see the progress of time

Here you can see the future of the universe 

[becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot]

Want some more? 

Here’s the butterfly project

Here’s a snickerdoodle mug cake

Here’s a link to some free audiobooks

Here’s something to read when you feel like a burden

Here’s a secret

Here’s my playlist of some sea shanties 

Here’s another secret

Here’s a link to some cool websites 

Here’s a blog that gives you recipes for when you’re low on spoons

Here’s some Brony Headcanon’s

[becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot]

Some more? I’ve got plenty

Here’s 100,000 stars

Here you can control the weather (TW FLASHING IMAGES)

Here you can weave silk

Here you can make a castle of your own

Here you can make a kaleidoscope drawing

Here you can explore recursion

Here you can play a jelly block game

[becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot]

I’m back with some more! 

Here you can draw with pasta

Here you can draw logo’s from memory

Here you can play this is sand, here you draw cool sand designs

Here you can play The Organ Trail

Here’s a customizable white noise website

Here you can simulate gravity

Here you can create your own guardian of the galaxy

Here you can make your own galaxy

Here’s a website you can get some support at.

[becausewhatiam-iswhatimnot]

to find later

[addiewho]

Here you can split circles into smaller and smaller pieces (I found this really satisfying)

Here you can have images of people point to where your pointer is

Here you can paint someone’s nails

Here you can grow a garden across your screen (Audio included)

Here you can try out all kinds of mind illusions (Trigger Warning: Flashing Lights)

Here you can see how many miles you have scrolled

Here you can watch a website load forever, although you might be getting enough of this on Tumblr mobile

Here’s a rickroll

Here you can remind yourself that you’re awesome.

Here you can throw trash into a dustbin only for it to bounce right back out (Audio included)

Here you can make sand dunes using sand (Audio included)

And here you can generate more cool websites like these

[boy-in-the-stars]

pinning thissss

[fiddlepickdouglas]

And yet more!!!

Here you can listen to a gentle rainstorm

Here you can make snowflakes

Here is a Line Rider feature film with relaxing music

Here is the entire script to the Princess Bride (many don’t need it but it’s fun to read anyway)

Here is an abbreviated script for the entirety of Book 1 of A:TLA that I made out of anger at the film that definitely doesn’t exist

Here is a playlist of the top 10 most relaxing songs ranked according to science

Here’s a site where you can make a dude beatbox with fun animations

[nyxsomnia7]

I’m fully aware I will need this at some point.

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 13 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

In the end, I don’t go with him. None of us do, even though there’s a whole group discussion about it during the week.

“Don’t go.” Mor is cold and certain. For someone who is usually so warm, it shocks me how flat and unforgiving her eyes are. I am reminded that Mor, and only Mor, has already met Rhys’s father.

We’re sitting in Rhys’s living room like usual, but the boxes of pizza are growing cold and somehow I don’t think there’s going to be a Disney movie tonight. Mor had been relaxing next to Cassian on the couch, but since Rhys told them about the call from the hospital, she’s gone stiff and hasn’t moved. Azriel is leaning against the wall, and I’m perched on the kitchen counter next to Rhys. I slide my fingers under the hem of his t-shirt, and don’t say anything. I just watch Mor, and the fury in the straightness of her spine.

“I mean he has to go, right?” Cassian, on the other hand, is all open handed and frank faced. I think I will always love him, for that. “I never met my dad and I hope he’s miserable out there. But if I had the chance, to meet him just once…”

“It’s not the same,” Mor hisses back. “The worst your dad did was fuck off. The worst this guy has done…” she trails off. I notice how white her knuckles have gone around her mug, and I don’t think I want to hear the end of the sentence.

“What are you thinking, Rhys?” Azriel, as ever, keeps his own opinion to himself. Rhys just rubs his face in his hands.

“I don’t know,” he confesses. “This is likely the last time the decision will be mine.”

Rhys’s pizza is untouched, and in the ensuing silence I pick up a piece and hold it to his lips. He gives me a small smile and takes a bite, to humour me. He hasn’t eaten all day, and there’s a mug of tea gone cold on his bench top. My slice is only nibbled, but Rhys is bigger than me and I’m convinced he needs the nourishment more than I do.

Cassian is having no such trouble.

“So we’ll all come with you,” he says, his mouth full. That’s his natural state. Rhys shakes his head.

“No,” he says slowly. “I think… I think I want to go alone.”

“So you’re going, then,” Azriel says, after a moment.

There’s another heavy pause, and then Rhys nods. I look at Mor, and her face is stony as I’ve ever seen it, but she says nothing.

And that’s that.

The others go home after dinner, and I put the uneaten pizza in the fridge while Rhys has a long shower. I wash up his mug and a few other bits and pieces in the sink, and then sit on his bed on my phone until he comes out.

“Do you want me to leave?” I ask quietly, when Rhys sits down heavily on the bed. He blinks at me in confusion.

“Why would I want that?”

“I thought maybe you’d want some time to yourself…”

But Rhys pulls me under the blankets and buries his face in my neck. “Stay,” he says, and so I do.

Rhys’s skin is warm from the shower, his hair is damp and clean and smells like his shampoo. It’s quickly become the most comforting scent to me and I’d start using it myself, just so I can smell it around me when he’s not there, if he hadn’t told me how much he likes my shampoo, too.

I turn the lights out, and we make love without words but with many silent things passed between our mouths that mean more than the things we could say out loud.  

Rhys doesn’t go the next day, or the day after. On one of the nights, I come home after work and I can hear him and Mor arguing loudly in his apartment. It’s not something I feel I have a part in, so I don’t go in, but even from my house I can hear Mor shouting. And after a while, a third, murmuring voice. When she finally storms out, I look out my window and see Azriel follow her quietly to her place.

Rhys walks through my door a little while after that, and I hand him a bowl of pasta. We don’t talk about their fight.

On Thursday night he makes up his mind, and on Friday morning he’s up early like usual so all I tell him is “good luck,” and he kisses my mouth before he leaves.

When I wake up an hour after that, I go to work and all day I keep checking my phone for updates. None come. I send a few texts early on- “how are you feeling?” “Text me when you get there,” “I’m here to talk if you need to call”- but get no response. It’s unreasonable for me to wait for them; I imagine he’s driving for the most part and not feeling chatty the rest. But I still do, and when the message comes, hours later, it’s not from Rhys. It’s Azriel.

Azriel: He’s back. He’s at work.

I tap out my reply fast.

Feyre: He’s at work? He’s not taking the rest of the day off?

I quickly do the math in my head- if Rhys is back by now, he must have spent less than an hour at the hospital. Did that mean things went well, or very badly?

“Guess not,” is all Azriel says. Then he sends me the address of the auto shop, and a quick Google tells me a bus will get me there in twenty. I make my excuses to my coworker, and she waves me off. I’m grateful the store is quiet, but I’d have left even if it wasn’t.

When I get to the shop, I see Cassian, Mor and Azriel all standing in a knot by the door.

“Hey, Feyre,” Cassian greets me.

It’s a bright sunny day and the three of them are in dark blue jumpsuits that have the shop’s logo embroidered on the chest. Cassian has his hair bundled on top of his head, and he gives me a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“How is he?”

Rhys’s friends just glance at each other, and they look as worried as I feel. It’s not reassuring.

“Hard to say,” Cassian tells me. “He hasn’t said anything, he just turned up and started working. We didn’t expect him in today at all.”

“He shouldn’t have fucking gone,” Mor says. “I told him not to go. Nothing good happens when that man is in Rhys’s life.”

I look from one to the other. Mor’s blonde ponytail swings as she shakes her head. She’s wearing a stained white tank top under her jumpsuit, with the buttons are undone and the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Even in my harried state I manage to notice she looks incredible even in greasy work clothes. I realise that I’ve never been to Rhys’s work place, even though this is where my friends all spend most of their day.

“We’ve been trying to check on him, but I don’t think he wants to talk,” Cassian says, breaking me out of my rambling reverie. I notice I’m chewing on my thumb nail, and pull it out of my mouth.

“What should I do?” I ask him. He shrugs.

“Maybe he’ll talk to you.”

“It’s worth a try,” Mor says. “We’re mostly done for the day, but we can stick around and try to help…” She glances at Cassian, and I can feel how helpless they’re feeling.

“No it’s okay, you guys go. I’ll talk to him.”

Cassian clasps my shoulder on his way out, and Mor throws me a look that is part sympathetic, and part grateful. I think, don’t thank me yet. I don’t know what I can do for Rhys that his friends couldn’t.

And then only Azriel is left, leaning against the door frame.

“Thanks for texting me,” I say to him. Azriel just looks at me, with that unreadable stare of his.

“I thought you’d want to be here,” he says. “But… there’s some things you should know about Rhys. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time together. I’m sure you’ve gotten to know him pretty well.”

I wait. Azriel sighs.

“He’s not… himself right now,” he tells me.

I cock my head and gaze back at Rhys’s friend. I wonder who he’s trying to protect right now- me, or Rhys. I think he’s sweet either way.

“There are three levels of Rhys being upset,” I say, matter-of-factly. “Level one, he’s grumpy but you can fix him with a cup of tea and a sleeve of cookies. Level two, he’s mad, but he's distractable and it’s usually a good idea to get his… heart rate up.” A hint of a smile warms Azriel’s face. “Level three, things have gone very wrong. At this level, Rhys likes... hurt.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath, and the warmth disappears.

“I know I’ve only known Rhys for a few months, but my tactic is to work my way up the list until of one those things sticks. Did I miss anything?”

Azriel says nothing for a moment, and then eventually shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That is correct.” He pauses again. “And you still want to go in there?”

“I do.”

Azriel still doesn’t move. I soften, and think that maybe Azriel is usually the one who takes on Rhys at level three. I can see Mor and Cassian putting the kettle on and sparring but Azriel… I look at my feet, then take a step closer. I make the confession under my breath.

“Sometimes, I like hurt, too.”

I look up at him, and he’s reassessing. I don’t know what conclusion he draws, but he pushes off the door and walks away.

I’m surprised when I feel the squeeze of his hand on mine, just briefly, as he goes.

I pass through the front office and into the shop out the back. The room opens up into a huge space with bright fluorescent lights and concrete walls. There are a large number of tools and other objects I can’t identify on hooks and shelves, and two cars up near the ceiling. I can’t see Rhys, but I can hear the clink of metal on metal echoing through the space.

I walk around, taking in my surroundings for a while. I make sure my footsteps make noise, so that Rhys knows I’m here, and my eyes run over the stacks of tyres, the red and black pillars of the hoists, and the strangeness of having several tonnes of vehicle suspended above head height. I even find what I assume is Rhys’s motorcycle, tucked against a far wall. I walk toward the clinking instead.

“They’ve all gone, have they?” Rhys asks. I still can’t see him.

“Yes,” I tell him. “It’s just me.”

There’s a tension hanging heavy in the atmosphere, another fume in the oily air. I can taste it coating my tongue, and I can see why I found his friends all standing outside. Bad, then. Things went badly, with his father.

“Good,” Rhys comments. “They were annoying me.”

There’s a loud clang as he drops his tool into a box nearby, and then he steps out from behind the car he was working on. He’s wiping his hands on a rag, and I just stand and wait. Rhys has the arms of his jumpsuit tied around his waist, and he’s in one of his black singlets. There’s a faint sheen of sweat on his bare arms, and a stray curl is falling in his eyes. On the surface he looks calm, but there’s something beneath that, something that my brain doesn’t have a name for but my body is responding to. Run, it’s saying, but it’s not clarifying in which direction. I keep standing still.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how it went?” he says. His voice is flat and cold.

“Only if you want to tell me,” I respond. Rhys throws the rag on a table, and sighs.

“Can I tell you about it later?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know what I actually feeling like doing right now?”

“Tell me.”

“I feel like tying you to this hoist and fucking you till you scream.”

The air goes out of my lungs so fast.

My head empties, my toes curl, and I just think, Is that all it takes, with us? I shouldn't be surprised, by now.

I blush at the thought of anyone else possibly overhearing us, I know the guys have gone but I don’t know if anyone else works here, or if his boss is somewhere out of sight or…. But I’m looking at Rhys and he’s looking at me and he shares none of my concerns.

I take one step to the left, my knees only just holding me up, and put my hand on one of the black pillars. I look at it; the painted surface is shiny and cold under my fingers. I was never too good with words, anyway.

“This one?” I ask, much more casually than I feel.

“Well the other two are holding cars up.” Rhys starts walking toward me- stalking is more like it, he’s got that predatory look in his eye that makes me convinced that any second he’s going to sprout wings and fangs. My heart thunders in my ears.

“I guess that’s true.”

There a primal instinct somewhere in my brain that has me backing away, even though I know I look ridiculous hiding behind the post.

“Where are you going?” he asks. His voice has dropped to that low place that sends skitters up my spine. I step again, rounding the pillar, but he keeps coming.

“Just… admiring the machinery. Never been in a garage before.”

Rhys is standing right in front of me now, but there’s a red metal arm between us, jutting out from the post about the height of my waist. He leans his forearm against the pillar, right by my head, and leans in close.

“Put your hands on the bar, Feyre.”

I do it, and grip it so that Rhys can’t see the tremor. I’m not afraid of him, it’s just that my adrenalin spikes when he gets like this and… the anticipation is as potent as fear itself.

“Stay there.”

Rhys steps away and returns with a length of strap. He winds it around my wrists and binds me to the red bar. Then he walks behind me, and when I can’t see him my heartrate kicks even higher. I don’t know how close he is to me until I feel his breath on my ear.

“Good girl,” he croons. I shiver.

I’m convinced he’s going to bend me over just like this, but then there’s just silence and cold air. I’ve just started to wonder where he’s gone, when I’m startled by a loud noise. It’s a sort of grinding sound, and before I can guess what it might be, the bar under my hands starts to move. I whip my head around, and find Rhys several paces away with his thumb on a green button and his eyes watching me like I’m his next meal.

I watch him back at first, but then I look back toward the red bar because it’s risen to eye height. I’m leaning against it still, because my legs are jelly. But the bar keeps rising, and my arms are lifted above my head. I’m stretched out, I’m on my tiptoes. Just before I’m lifted clean off my feet, the grinding noise stops, and everything is still again. I can just barely put weight in the balls of my feet.

“Rhys…”

He comes back to stand before me, hands behind his back and something taunting in the corner of his mouth.

“Comfortable, Feyre darling?”

No. I stick my chin out. “Very,” I say coolly, and he chuckles.

“Good.”

At that moment, there’s the bright ding of a desk bell, and I realise that Azriel hadn’t turned the Open sign around when he left. Rhys looks toward the sound.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he says, and gives me a cruel smile. Prick.

Rhys walks out to the office, and I’m just left there to hang.

He’s gone for what must be a few minutes but feels like an age, and I can hear muted voices in the adjoining room. A laugh, even, and I’m a little scandalised that Rhys can put on his friendly customer-service voice while I’m tied up in the shop only meters away. For a second, I have the mortifying thought that he might bring someone through while I’m suspended here, but I quickly banish it. Rhys wouldn’t humiliate me like that. Would he?

Finally he returns, and as he walks toward me he pulls another strap off the wall and slings it over his shoulder.

“Now,” he says, inches from my face. He slides his hands into his pockets. “Where were we?”

“Hope you’re not turning down business on my account,” I say. It’s all bravado, of course, but the last thing Rhys needs is to think I’m scared of him.

“I told him to come back tomorrow,” Rhys replies. “But I can call him back if you really want.” He leans in close. “If you’re not satisfied with just one of me.”

I just shrug- or I try to, but my shoulders are already up by my ears and starting to ache. Rhys laughs at me. He steps back, and begins to walk around me again. When he can’t see my face, I quietly blow a breath out. I’m trying to remain calm, but I’m so completely out of my depth.  I’m strung up, pushing up on my tiptoes to relieve the pressure on my wrists, and he’s circling me with eyes that devour. I still can’t see him, but suddenly there’s a breath on the back of my neck. His hand lands on the side of my throat, thumb in the base of my skull and a long forefinger over my windpipe. He puts his teeth on the join of my shoulder, and he’s hard against my backside.

“Mmm I like you like this,” he murmurs, and the rumble in his voice has me arching against him. He’s finally touching me, and it’s not enough. I shudder, and he squeezes my throat before letting go and I’m cold all over.

Next thing I know, his lips touch the nape of my neck, and his hands are sliding up the sides of my thighs. They’re so warm against my skin, under my dress, and then brushing over my stomach. My hands twitch but of course I can’t touch him back. He hooks his fingers into the band of my underwear and then tugs them down; threads my feet through to get them off me. They go into the pocket of his jumpsuit.

Next, Rhys walks around in front of me again, but he’s not looking at my face. He slowly starts to undo the buttons down the front of my dress, enough to get his hands over my bra, and exhales through his teeth when he squeezes my breasts.

“Yeah,” he says, “I should have gotten you in here ages ago.”

“You can walk circles around me at home,” I shoot back, and I’m just mad because he isn’t kissing me. Rhys’s eyes darken.

“I had a few other things planned,” he tells me, and then he rips my dress the rest of the way open so buttons clatter to the floor.

“I liked this dress,” I hiss. I’m goading him and I know it. Come on, I think. I can take it.

“I like it better this way.”

He gathers the two sides up in his hands and ties them in a knot at my stomach.

“You’ll pay for a new one,” I say.

“And you’ll pay for giving me lip.” The strap slides from his shoulder and into his hands.

“Do it,” I spit. And quicker than I thought possible, the strap lashes out and strikes across my lower belly. I gasp at the sudden pain, but it settles into a heat somewhere behind my navel. I shouldn’t be surprised by now that it feels good. Rhys laughs darkly, and begins to circle again.

“Want another one?” he purrs. I grit my teeth.

“Yes,” I choke out.

The strap lands again, this time against my bare ass. Electricity snaps hot over my skin. I cry out, and then bite my lip against it. When he whips me again, I hold the sound behind my teeth.

“Oh come now,” Rhys says. He grips my throat again, and pulls me back against his body. “Don’t be a spoil-sport.” His voice sinks low. “Moan for me.” And then he drops the strap and smacks me with his hand. My jaw drops open and I didn’t need his instruction- the moan is involuntary.

“Good girl,” he says at my ear, and the next slap stings near the join at the top of my leg. I moan again, as every hair on my body stands on end, and I’m rewarded with soothing circles rubbed over the reddened skin. It lasts only a few seconds before I’m spanked a fifth time, and this time when he does it his teeth sink into my shoulder. He rubs over the sore spot again.

“So fucking good,” he praises, and his thumb strokes the side of my neck in time with his hand on my ass. “You like being spanked like that?” he asks. I don’t respond, but his fingers move over my hip and between my legs and he finds his answer.

“Fuck Feyre,” he growls. “If I’d known I could get you so wet by smacking your ass…”

His hand leaves my throat so he can spank me again on the other cheek, a fresh pain, while the other hand starts to move where it is. I moan louder now, and hope to god he’s locked the front office up. He strokes over my clit while he squeezes my backside where he hit me, and I’m turning to liquid under his touch.

“Do you even know what you do to me?” Rhys mutters. I’m losing coherence and he’s talking about what I’m doing to him? He grips my hip and grinds into my ass while he touches me, the solid line of him pushing against me hard enough to bruise. Point made.

“I have some idea,” I tease, but it comes out breathy. His fingers speed up on my clit, and I lose my legs entirely. The strap cuts into my wrists but I barely feel it.

“Doubtful,” is all he says, and his hand moves lower. His fingers push inside me but the heel of his palm keeps contact with my clit. There's a soft groan from behind me as he slides in to his knuckles. He’s rubbing his cock against my ass as his fingers move in and out, and then his teeth and tongue are roving over the back of my neck.

“Shit Rhys,” I gasp, and I can hear his breathing labour, too.

“Wanna fuck you so bad, Feyre,” he says. And I fucking wish he would but I can’t string the words together to tell him. Then he spanks me again as he curls his fingers inside me, and suddenly I’m right on the edge. “If I keep doing that will you come?” he asks me. My mouth moves but nothing comes out. “Shall I do it and find out?”

He hits me again and I feel it all the way up my spine. My head falls back against his shoulder and his lips move against my ear.

“Shall I count how many it takes?” My toes clench in my shoes. "How many are we up to now?" he muses. The next word is a growl. “Six.”

The slap lands across the low part of my ass, and all the while his other hand keeps moving between my legs. I cry out, and he kisses me gently on the side of my throat.

“Seven.”

The sharp of the pain bleeds into a heat that suffuses through to my belly, and the more I feel the more the world fades away, and it’s just him and me and the tightening spiral in my core.

“Eight.”

My breaths are short and shallow, and when my mouth opens again I’m barely making a sound. His fingers are speeding up, and my skin is getting raw, but I’m pushing my toes into the ground to arch up toward the next slap.

“Nine.”

This one stings so much my eyes are watering, and yet the sharper the feeling under his hand the stronger feeling between my legs, and I'm shivering, I’m clenching around his fingers as they move in and out of me.

“Ten-” And that’s the one. I’m coming hard, I’m crying and the sobs compete with the moans in my throat. I’m shaking so much Rhys has wrapped an arm around my middle to take some of my weight since I can’t put my feet flat on the ground, and it feels like he’s the only thing holding me together.

“That’s my fucking girl,” Rhys is mumbling, but I can barely hear him because I’m pretty sure I’m floating outside of my body somewhere near the ceiling.

I don’t know how long it takes me to come back down, but when I do Rhys is still holding me up and he’s pressing soft kisses over my neck and my ears. When I’m able to lift my head and look at him, he catches my mouth with his and licks my tongue and my teeth as he kisses me.

Eventually Rhys lets me go, slowly so as not to jar my shoulders, and my arms ache again when I’m holding my own weight. But it’s only for a second, because he steps round to face me and wraps my legs around his waist. He holds me up again and kisses me, lush and slow. Does it for so long that before I know it, I’m rolling my hips into him and the kiss gets dirtier, hungrier, toothier. I want to touch him so badly, to wrap my arms around his neck and get my fingers in his hair. To get him out of that gods-damned jumpsuit. All I can do is whine like a tied-up pet.

Fortunately, Rhys is as wound up as I am.

He lets go of me long enough to shove the front of his pants down, but he’s still got my weight because my ankles are crossed behind his back. He pulls himself out but then just rubs me with his fingers again, and it’s not what I want. I grip harder with my legs, trying to get his hips closer, and he seems to understand. Lines his cock up to my entrance and then gets his hands back on my ass and pushes me down on to himself.

“Christ Feyre…”

I share the sentiment. Rhys’s head drops down onto my shoulder as he sinks into me, all the way in. We just stay like that for a moment, breathing hard against each other, and then he’s pulling out and pushing back in. We both moan as he lands again, and he palms my breast under my ruined dress as he does it.

“Fuck you look good tied up like this,” he says.

He moves his hands back down so he can pull me onto himself by my ass.

“More,” I tell him on the exhale, and he snarls in reply and starts fucking me in earnest.

And as much as I’m frustrated that I can’t get my hands on him, the feeling of being at his mercy and letting him take exactly what he needs is strangely freeing. I have no thoughts toward what I should be doing because I can’t do anything, and all I have to do is take and feel and glory in the way that he moves.

Rhys shifts his hold so he’s got one arm cradling me, and with his free hand he grips the bar above my head. Now that he’s got more purchase, he’s pounding harder into me and I’m still helpless in his hold.

“I should keep you down here,” he says, but his words are slurring together. “Should bind you up so you can’t go anywhere, and I’ll fuck you just like this whenever I want…”

When he’s buried this deep inside me, I can’t say I’m opposed to the idea.

His hand slides down my spine and his fingers find the seam of my backside. I can feel the spread of his handprint holding me to him, and I can barely get a breath in when he's fucking me like this. He gets his mouth on mine and his kiss is as raw and obliterating as the sex.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come,” he says on my lips. I just tighten the grip of my legs and keep kissing him. “I want one more from you first,” he growls, but I shake my head and bite his lip. He starts to slow down but I keep moving my hips.

“Don’t you dare,” I grind out, and with a groan he picks up his pace again. He lets go of the bar and fists his fingers in my hair instead, and my breath catches as my head is pulled back.

“Please,” I whisper. “Please come, please I…”

Rhys lets out a snarl that rips through his teeth, and his hips snap forward so fast I can’t keep up. A bead of sweat runs cold between my breasts, I’m not sure if it’s from me or from him. His fingers dig into me and I only exist where he’s touching me, and then he’s roaring as he hits his climax and shudders hard into me.

I squeeze down on the bar under my hands as the waves of his pleasure rock through me, and I can’t breathe for how tightly he’s holding me. When he lets go of my hair I let my head fall onto his chest, and I can feel the beat of his heart under his tattoos. He kisses me, soft again, on the mouth and then with his tongue on my nipple and then in a line down my sternum. Gets on his knees, pulls my thighs over his shoulders so he’s still got my weight, and then kisses me right over my clit. I shiver, way too sensitive and tender from being fucked. He just chuckles and does it again.

“Rhys I can’t…”

He licks it this time and doesn’t seem to mind that I’ve still got his cum dripping out of me.

“I told you,” he says. “I want one more from you.”

And then he sucks my clit into his mouth and his tongue is relentless. He flicks it over and over me where I need it, and it only takes a few minutes before I’m coming again, my legs wrapped around his head and his hands curled around my thighs.

When I’ve finally stopped shaking, Rhys stands carefully and settles my legs around his hips again. He unties my hands, and my arms drop heavily around his neck. Completely boneless, I’m carried to a work bench and set down on it, before he finds a clean rag and gently wipes me off.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

I nod wearily, and give him a tired but true smile.

He gives me a spare jumpsuit to wear, since he’s ruined my dress, and then kisses my forehead.

“You were so, so good,” he murmurs. I just lean into him and let him hug me, while I breathe in the smell of grease and metal and Rhys. He lifts me again, and carries me to his car. Buckles me in, locks up the shop, and then holds my hand while he drives us home.

Hours later, after Rhys has put me in the shower and cooked me dinner and wrapped himself around me in his bed, he tells me.

“You can ask me, now,” he says. It takes me a moment, but I understand.

“How did it go?” I ask in the dark. He sighs.

“He’s dead.”

I turn around to face him, and he tangles our legs together. I hardly know what to say.

“Your dad died?”

“Yeah.”

I brush a curl from his forehead, and the words I’m sorry form in my mouth but I don’t know if they’d be right.

“Did you get to talk to him at all?”

“Sort of. He was pretty much gone by the time I got there, just pale and full of tubes. They said they were just keeping him breathing until I got there. So I said my goodbyes, and then he went.”’

“Did you get to tell him what you wanted to?”

Rhys shrugs. “I didn’t really plan what to say. The whole drive there I tried to, but I haven’t had anything to say to him in thirteen years. As much as I tried, I couldn’t come up with anything. Just figured… once I saw him, I might know. Or, he might say something, and then I’d have a response…”

“I’m sorry, Rhys.” I say it now, because I don’t know what else to say. The words never sound like enough, when someone is dead.

“I said, ‘You were a rotten father, and you couldn’t even stick around for me to tell it to you.’ Was that too harsh?”

Now it’s my turn to shrug. “It sounds like it was true.”

“And then they gave me a letter.”

“A letter?”

“A note, really. And his will.”

“What did the note say?”

“It said, ‘My son. I’ll be of more use to you dead than I was alive, but I’m sure you thought that anyway.’ And in the will he left me everything.”

“What?”

“I don’t know much about how he lived his last few years but I know he came from money. And there’s a massive house that I’m going to sell. So my dad is dead and suddenly I have more money than I know what to do with.”

“Rhys…”

“That’s a lot of conflicting things to feel, isn’t it?”

I bark a laugh. “It’s a few things.”

We lie in silence for a while, digesting the news. I think Rhys has been digesting all day.

“I’m buying the shop,” Rhys says. “For ma. And the others.”

“And here I thought I was going to buy it for you someday,” I tease.

“Well maybe I’ll give you the proceeds from the manor, in payment for my painting, and then you can buy the shop.” He gives me a sad smile, and I give him one back.

“And I’m going to get a house,” he says. “A real one, not a shit box. For me. And for you. If you’ll come with me. I know it's too soon, but it'll months from now anyway, maybe more..”

I put my hands on his face.

“I’d live with you in a shit box,” I say.

“You’ll never have to again,” he tells me, and then he kisses me so sweetly that I forgive him for keeping my underwear in his jumpsuit pocket.

****

The truth is, it didn't take me 2 months to write chapter 12 it took me this long to write this. It was in my head for so long and I just didn't have the juice to get it out, so I hope I did these babies justice. We're almost at the end, I just have to tell you the epilogue x

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TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @elentiya-whitethorn @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina

[realbookloverproblems]

PURE GOLD

IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING <3333

[pls-let-me-out]

hockey player will and figure skater nico

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 11 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

I’ve spent the better part of this month sleeping at Rhys’s house, but I only notice the letter the day before his court date.

It’s open on the table, and I go so fast from blissed out honey-mooner to traumatised ex that it floors me. I grip the back of a wooden chair and feel the cold press of a barrel in my stomach. Rhys is with me in seconds.

“Feyre?” he says. He sits down backwards in the chair I’m holding onto, and tries to meet my eyes. “Honey are you okay?”

I shake my head to try to clear it. “Yeah…” I say. “Yes, yep, I just…” I look back at the letter. “I forgot.”

And the real trouble is that I feel so stupid for forgetting.

I loved Tamlin, and I left him, and then Rhys got arrested for protecting me against the consequences of my own actions. And I… I forgot? “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Sorry for what, sweetheart?” Rhys touches my chin, and when I look at him the concern in his eyes just kills me.

“For all of it," I tell him. “I’m sorry this isn’t over, I’m sorry you have to go to court, I’m sorry I got you into this mess…”

“Hey, woah, you did not get me into this mess,” Rhys says. He’s cupping my face now, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “We’re not going down that path, you know better. Right?”

I take a deep breath, and try to find some centre in the violet of his eyes.

“Right,” I say, but my voice is so small.

“The court date is no big deal. They already know Tamlin is at fault, I’ll just get a slap on the wrist. Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.” I put my hands on his wrists and lean into his palm. “You’re not worried?”

Rhys shakes his head. “Nah.”

“I’ll come with you, we can go together.”

“You have to work, honey.”

“I could call in sick…”

“Don’t do that. Besides, Tamlin has to turn up and you don’t need to be in the same room with that guy.”

“What about you?”

“We’re going with him, Feyre.” I look up at the voice, and I’m only just now remembering there are other people in the room. Azriel is perched on the arm of the couch, and gives me an encouraging nod.

“You are?”

“Yeah we’ll make sure he’s okay.” That’s Cassian, and I do feel better knowing that the boys will be with Rhys.

“I’ll be here when you get home from work and we can wait together,” Mor adds.

I take another deep breath, and I am so thankful for these people.

The next day Rhys goes to work as usual; he and the boys are doing a half day. The hearing isn’t until 4.30pm, but it’s in Adriata since that’s where he was arrested. Because it’ll be peak hour by the time they’re done, they don’t expect to be back until seven or so.

I am listless at work, and Rhys texts me at three when they’re all heading off. For the last hour of my day I’m a nervous wreck, knowing that Rhys is in court with Tamlin, and that Tamlin will have fancy lawyers and Rhys will not.

I get home at 5:30 and Mor comes over to sit with me. She’s nervous too, I can tell, but she keeps up the smile for my sake. It kind of makes me feel worse, but I don’t tell her that.

“So okay, I thought maybe we could do some girly things,” Mor says. “Since we don’t get a lot of one-on-one time.”

“Sure Mor,” I say. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, first I thought we could do mani-pedis.” She produces a bag full of nail polishes and sets it on the table. “And then, if you want, I thought I could run you through some self-defence skills. I’ve got over a decade of martial arts training and I was just thinking, after all that Tamlin stuff, it might make you feel safer.”

My eyebrows go up. Trust Mor to say ‘mani-pedis’ and ‘martial arts’ in the same breath.

“So just the usual girly things then?” I grin, and love her harder for it.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes. Please, I would love that.”

We stick to her plan of painting our nails first, and I use a toothpick to make patterns over Mor’s fingers and toes. She squeals and fawns over the designs, and takes a thousand photos for her Instagram. In the end, doing nail art before she gives me lessons means that I at least get to offer a little something back. I’m so grateful for this, and I wonder if Mor has intentionally set the evening up like this.

Mor paints my nails in silver sparkles, and while we wait for them to dry, she puts on videos of different styles of self-defence.

“There’s purely defensive movements, where you can escape without harming anyone,” she’s telling me. “See how she just got out of that headlock by twisting the guy’s knee and hip? He’s not hurt but she can run away. It’s the kind of thing they use in hospitals where you can't actually injure anyone, and it’s less intimidating for first timers. We can try that one first, it’s very easy.”

After that there’s this ex-policeman doing a video about date rape. He says that you’re most likely to get attacked by someone you know, and then does a combo of hits to the nose, knee, toes and groin. He also says to scream a lot, but Mor says we don’t have to practice that part.

Finally, she takes me through some more complex flips that she knows from Judo and BJJ, which I don’t think I’d be able to execute in an emergency situation, but are still fun to do. She pulls out the seat cushions from my couch so we have a soft landing to throw each other onto, and it does make me feel stronger.

“It’s all in the technique, see?” Mor says. “People think you have to be really big and strong, but a small person can flip a much larger one if you know what you’re doing.”

It’s such sufficient distraction, that when we’re out of breath on the living room floor, and she finally says “okay, I think that’s enough for tonight,” I don’t fight her on it.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

I look up at that voice, that dark chocolate voice, that low roll of amusement. And there he is, leaning in the doorway, looking tired but with the corner of his mouth lifted, and my heart can rest.

“Hey,” Mor says as she stands. She gives him a hug. “How was it?”

Rhys shrugs. “Probably about as well as can be expected.”

There's something in the set of his shoulders, and I don't know if Mor sees it, but her eyes narrow and she leaves us. “I’ll get the boys to fill me in,” she says, and gives me a wink and a small smile on her way out.

“Bye,” I call. “Thanks for being here.”

Once she’s gone, Rhys crosses the room and sits down heavily on the couch beside me. I’m waiting for him to pull me across, but he rubs his face with his hands, and he’s got that heavy, furious air about him again. Like when get came back after a night in prison. And I know we're not out of the woods yet.

“So…” I begin. I don’t quite know what to say, because Mor already asked how it went and he didn’t seem inclined to answer her. Luckily, Rhys speaks before I have to formulate the questions. He doesn’t quite look at me, and although he’s in my living room he feels far away.

“Well the good news is,” he says, “the police are taking out a restraining order on your behalf, because the gun had his prints all over them.”

“And…” I lick my lips. “The bad news?”

“Is not very bad at all. I have to pay a fine, but that’s about it. They were satisfied that Tamlin attacked you first.”

“I have money, we can use the painting money…”

“No." He cuts me off. "No this isn’t your problem, Feyre.”

“Yes it is, I was the one who got your into this mess, I…”

“You nothing. Tamlin had that restraining order against me long before you showed up, and more importantly, nothing you could possibly do would mean that you deserved to have a gun in your stomach. Okay?”

I flinch at the last bit there, but I nod. Rhys sighs.

“I hated seeing him,” he says quietly. “Every time he’s in my sight I’m just so… I’m so fucking angry.” I nod again, not sure if I should touch him when he’s like this. He swings his legs under him and turns to face me. “I’m angry at him, and I’m angry at myself. But I’m not angry at you, you know that right?”

I only hesitate for a second before I answer. “I know that.”

And I admit that if I looked down, I’d see my body curled up into myself and leaning into the far edge of the couch. Not because I’m scared of Rhys, truly I’m not. But there’s clearly some left over, automatic response. Because with Tamlin, there was no angry at something else or angry at me. There was just anger, and me, and a room of breakables.

I wonder then, if, as much as I think I shouldn't touch Rhys, maybe he thinks he shouldn't touch me right now.

I remind my body that it’s Rhys here with me, and my position relaxes. At the movement, Rhys’s face relaxes a little too, but he still feels disconnected.

“Do you want to go back to yours?” I ask. He looks exhausted, and I don’t have the right words but maybe if I can climb into his bed I’ll know how to help. But he shakes his head.

“Let’s just stay here.” His words are so hollow I can’t bring myself to argue, even though I haven’t spent a single night in my own bed since we got back from Adriata.

“Okay.” I nod, and wipe my clammy hands on my pants. “Yeah, just… don’t mind the mess.”

I get up and head to the bedroom, and a second later Rhys stands and follows me. I flick the on lamp on the bedside table and move a pile of books off the covers. Even though he’s been in here before I feel strangely self-conscious. Rhys takes off his jacket and looks around for a place to put it. Sees the armchair in the corner and drapes it over the armrest, next to a stack of clothes already in the seat.

“Sorry. I uh… I haven’t really wanted to deal with that pile. They’re things from… that night.”

Rhys looks at the crumpled clothes and the ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth.

“Guess I’ll take that belt back, then,” he says.

“Oh right, sorry.” I had completely forgotten that it had been borrowed for the night, forgot that I had it. But now the black leather pokes out between bits of blue satin and I hand it to him. Rhys runs the lengths through his fingers, and even as he watches it that faraway look persists.

“I hate that it’s like this,” he says quietly. “I hate that he can keep hurting you, even when he’s not here, and I can’t even… theres nothing that I can…”

“They’re just clothes,” I tell him. His knuckles have whitened over the belt, and it’s so hard to see him like this.

Rhys gives me another rueful half-smile.

“Even when it’s just clothes. I hate it.”

I step forward and loop my arms around his waist, so tired of not touching him.

“It’s okay,” I say. I try to give him a smile, tighten my hug. Rhys sighs, and his arms finally come up around me. The edge of his thumb runs down my spine, and his breath is in my hair. “I just won’t wear any of those clothes again,” I tell him. “Fresh start.”

Rhys looks at my face then, not my eyes, but follows his forefinger as it traces across my forehead, moving a strand of my hair. He touches my lips, and I’m half convinced that if he would just kiss me, if I could just put my tongue on his, then everything would be okay again.

“Not anything?” he asks, and the words are barely there. “Not even this?” And then there’s the clink of his belt as it’s lifted between us. “Not even… if we give it a different memory?”

And something in his voice changes then. I don’t know what he means, but when he drops into that low, chest-deep register, my heart speeds up as if it’s catching on before me.

“What… kind of memory?” I ask. He meets my eyes then and there’s something so hot, so molten and dangerous that I’m almost afraid of the answer.

Rhys hooks his thumb into my waistband and presses a kiss to my mouth. I lean into him, and loosen a little bit more. There you are, I think, but before I can reach for him, he pulls back.

"Do you trust me?" he whispers. I nod. I want him to keep kissing me.

“Something like…” Rhys trails off, and then he’s showing me instead of telling me.

He settles the length of the belt around my neck, pulls it through the buckle, very gently. Watching to see if I flinch. I hold his gaze, and when he’s satisfied that I’m steady, he yanks the slack through. There’s the zipping sound of the leather moving, and I gasp slightly when the cold metal hits my throat. But I keep my chin up, and don’t let go of his eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers, and he tucks the tail end of the belt back through behind the buckle, so it doesn’t pinch me. I don't know what this is, but all over me, anticipation zips over my skin.

Rhys takes a step backward and folds his arms.

“Take your clothes off,” he says, and it’s not any louder but I hear it like he’s still by my ear. I strip off, moving slowly as if I’m moving through honey, and indeed their air has become sweet and sticky around me. I drop my t-shirt and tights on the floor, then my bra, and my panties. I keep my eyes on his face but Rhys is looking all the way down, then all the way back up me.

“So, so good…” he murmurs, and I shiver, with nothing to do with the cold. “Kneel on the bed for me.”

I cross the room, thrumming with expectation. I’m remembering that first night, when he put his hands on my throat, when he didn’t stop shaking until he had come, when his fury was a living thing in our bed and between us. And I’m wet before he has touched me.

I kneel up on the bed, in the centre, and Rhys circles slowly, eyes roving over my naked body the whole time. He moves out of my sight, and when I can only hear his unhurried footsteps I close my eyes. The bed dips and groans, and then there’s a breath at my ear. “Good girl,” he croons again, and I press my lips together to stop from whimpering.

A large hand smooths up my back, and then pushes between my shoulders. I fall forward onto my hands, and receive a hum of approval. Rhys strokes all the way down my back, and then his knee is knocking mine further apart.

“Stay right there,” Rhys tells me, and then before I can think of moving he’s licking my pussy from behind.

“Fuck, Rhys-” I choke out, but Rhys doesn’t respond. Has one hand pressing my lower back into an arch, and the other wrapped around my thigh to keep me in place. He’s moving the tip of his tongue over my clit and I forget about everything, the court case, the infernal satin shirt, even the belt around my neck. Rhys moves back and forth and then slides his tongue inside me, and before I know it I’m trying to move back against him, trying to fuck myself on his tongue. “That feels so… I…”

But I don’t know what I’m trying to tell him, just want him to keep going.

Rhys moves his tongue back to my clit, and the pleasure tightens. I try to move exactly the way I want it, but then I’m distracted by his fingers pushing into me and now any which way I move feels incredible. With his mouth busy, he’s not talking to me like usual, so it’s just my moans that are filling the quiet room and I start to miss him.

“Rhys…” I get out. “Rhys I need…” His fingers curl and it’s so hard to string the words together. “Need you, want- oh…” He’s flicking his tongue fasts over my clit now and I can barely see my hands in front of my face. “No no no,” I gasp. I don’t want to come like this. “Need you…”

Rhys stops and I feel the heat of his body move up and over me.

“No?” he asks, and the midnight silk of it makes me question why I’d ever say no to him. “Want more than that?” Oh yes, that’s what it was. I just nod my head. “Want me inside you?”

“Yes please,” I whisper, and Rhys cups a hand around my chin so he can lift my mouth to his.

And I was right, I was right. As soon as his tongue touches mine things feel better, he’s back with me again and there is so much to say now that the words have stopped. While he’s kissing me, one of his hands slides back down between my legs, and I push into his hand and the same time as I say “want you” against his lips. Rhys chuckles darkly, and I’m almost sad when I lose his mouth.

But then he’s kneeling behind me and I’m still on my hands and knees and he’s stroking up and down my back. He grips my hips and pulls me back toward him, and by now I’m empty and desperate. I feel the head of him at my entrance and I could start sobbing right there in the middle of the bed. Rhys exhales slowly.

“So fucking wet,” he sighs, and then his fingers are on my neck and sliding beneath the belt. It tightens around my neck, appearing sharply in my consciousness where I had forgotten I was wearing it. “Get my good girl down on my cock,” he mutters, and he pulls back on the leather. My head tips back, I’m tugged further onto him, and the ache of it is so sweet it hurts my teeth.  I arch more for him, and he moves so slowly I can’t stand it. Is pulling out now, before he’s reached his hilt.

“Please,” I say, and I’ve never wanted anything so badly. “More, please, I.. please…” On the last word his hips snap forward, deeper this time, faster perhaps than he meant to.

“Fuck Feyre…” he growls, and he’s pulling harder on the belt now. “Just let me go slow…”

But it’s not what I want. I’ve been anxious all day, I’ve been waiting for him all fucking day and I know the anger he’s carrying beneath his skin. I push my hips back and take him deeper, all the way this time, and it forces a groan from Rhys.

“Mmm that’s how you want it, huh?” He picks up the pace now, a rocking rhythm that has me breathless. He’s still holding onto the belt, pulling me back with it with every stroke. “You want more?”

“Yes,” I breathe, and he’s fucking me harder now. The strap presses into my throat, I’m bounced on his cock and my elbows buckle and re-lock. “More.”

Rhys snarls and now he’s pulling me back so tightly I can’t move, I’m collared and filled up and only now do I start to feel him release a little, not his grip but that furious edge he’s been riding since he got home.

“Fucking Christ,” he groans. “You take it so fucking good Feyre, I swear to god…”

I’m so wet I can feel it start to run down my legs a little, and Rhys isn’t slowing down. I choke back a moan, biting it off as it scrapes past my lips. And Rhys does not like that.

Suddenly I’m yanked up onto my knees, and I’d fall backwards except my back hits Rhys’s chest. He’s still buried deep inside me, and he’s regripped the belt around my neck so I’m held fast to him. “None of that now," he mutters. "Let me hear you, darling, moan for me."

My throat works but nothing comes out at first, and he shakes the belt a little. When he speaks, his voice has dropped so low I feel it in my stomach. "I said moan for me."

And this time I do, and it's a long, low sound I don't recognise. Something unwinds a little in me when I do it, and immediately Rhys is rewarding me with a row of hot kisses down the side of my neck.

"Again," he purrs. "Do it louder."

So I moan again, the command making me less self-conscious and fuck it feels good. Rhys makes a satisfied hum in my ear. "That's my girl," he says, and then his fingers tighten in the belt.

Air comes thinner now; the belt is so much tighter like this. I make a strangled sound, but Rhys pays me no heed. His free hand palms my breast as he keeps moving inside me, and then slowly slides down my body. His fingers find my clit, his palm rests against my stomach to secure my hips in place but his fingertips are circling right where I need them.

“Rhys…” I mouth, but no sound comes out. I’m torn between the pain of the leather digging into my throat, and the pleasure curling up my spine, and they blur together until I can’t tell one from the other. I curve my arms around his neck, and tilt my hips back to keep getting more of him. The pressure between my thighs has my legs shaking, but Rhys is relentless.

“Come for me,” he says. “Be a good fucking girl and come for me.” The belt squeezes again and everything focuses down to the feeling of him inside me, and his breath at my ear, and his fingers on my clit. “Come just like that.”

And I do, I split open on his cock and the pleasure is a thing that sears up my spine and spills out from my lips. I’m held up until I’m searching for breath, collapsing in his arms, trying to refill my lungs. Only then does Rhys let me down. My hands hit the mattress and I think that I have a moment to rest but now Rhys is pulling that belt again and I’m being fucked harder than before as he chases his own climax. His hips punch forward over and over, and the feeling of him unrestrained, finally, winds me up so fast I find that I’m right there with him, as he hits that ledge and tumbles straight over with a yell.

Minutes later, I’m curled up in Rhys’s arms and he’s gently unbuckling the belt from my throat. He kisses the red marks it leaves behind, and then my lips. "Such a good girl," he's whispering. "You did so, so well, sweetheart." He strokes my hair, fusses over the way the blanket is tucked around me, and hums under his breath until I am asleep.

The next day after Rhys woken early, and kissed me good bye, and left orange juice on my nightstand, and gone to work; I find the paperwork on his table, and follow the instructions there to pay the fine online.  

***

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TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @elentiya-whitethorn @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina

[realbookloverproblems]

YES YES

I LOVE THE MOR CONTENT

and at first i was like awww how cute then i was like THAT IS SO SEXY and now im just overwhelmed by all that im feeling

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 10 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Work on Monday drags.

Rhys gets up a couple of hours before me, silences his alarm quickly and then presses warm kisses to the back of my neck and the crook of my shoulder before he gets out of bed. I turn my face, and he kisses my lips, but whispers “keep sleeping.” I don’t need to be told twice.

When I wake at eight, Rhys is long gone. My clothes are folded in a pile at the corner of the bed, with a post-it that says, There’s pikelets in the fridge x

I shake my head and smile. My kitchen is literally next door, I’m hardly at the mercy of his hospitality. Plus, I don’t usually like sugar for breakfast.

I pull my clothes on and shuffle into my own apartment. As I cook my eggs, I think that it’s strange how my morning routine just picks up like usual. Strange that only my cold and unrumpled bed knows I wasn’t here last night. Strange that everything, and nothing has changed.  

I take a shower and despite the steam, I’m shivering under the water as a I remember everywhere Rhys touched me last night. My fingers probe my throat for bruises, both wary of how it might look at work but also looking for proof that he was there. I find nothing, and am embarrassed that I’m a little disappointed.

Work is slow, there aren’t many customers and I’m checking my phone incessantly. I know that he doesn’t have the down time that I do in a work day, and so I try not to feel insecure. I’ve tucked his post-it into the back of my phone case because I’m a giant sap, and look at that occasionally instead. Around lunch time, he texts me.

Rhys: Hey you

My phone buzzes in my pocket and when his name comes up on the screen my heart hits the roof of my mouth.

Feyre: Hey :)

Rhys: How’s your day going, beautiful?

I bite my lip and blush at the flashback. You’re beautiful. That’s all.

Feyre: It’s good, it’s slow.

Feyre: How’s yours?

I watch the bouncing grey dots like a kid with a crush.

Rhys: Same old.

Rhys: Come round after work?

I grin. By now, his apartment is basically a second home to me, but this time there’s a thrill of anticipation in my veins. This time, 'come round’ means ‘come put your mouth on mine,’ and if Rhys wasn’t also working I would be tempted to just up and leave this minute.

Feyre: Definitely.

Rhys: Good girl.

I swear I get wet right there at the cash register.

Somehow the second half of the day passes even more slowly than the first, but finally I get to hang up my apron. I get on the bus and the whole way home I’ve got a knee jiggle going. I try to plug into my usual podcast but I realise quickly that I’m not hearing a single word. I look at the time, I know that Rhys has finished too but he drives in with the others and so he’ll beat me home.

Half way there, we get stuck. There’s an accident on the road and the bus has to wait for it to clear before it proceeds.

Of all the fucking days.

I keep glancing at my phone but every time I do it’s only a minute that has passed. After five minutes, I google how long it would take if I just got off the bus and walked home. Forty minutes. Probably worth staying on the bus then.

Twenty minutes after that, I’m not so sure.

I’m just considering whether to call Rhys and have him collect me- but no, I can’t ask that of him, he’s probably tired after work and it’s still plenty early, it’s not like I’m stranded or in trouble- when we’re given the all clear and the bus starts moving. There’s a little cheer from the passengers. I just sigh and try not to check my phone the rest of the way home.

As I walk into Velaris, I do think about going straight to Rhys’s door. But I make myself go home and have a shower and change my clothes. I barely manage to shove my keys into my pocket before I’m standing on his doorstep, I’m knocking, and it’s opening and there he is.

However beautiful I thought Rhys was before, it’s got nothing on how he looks in this doorway.

Not now that I’ve spent the night in his bed, now that I know the shape of his skin, now that the taste of him is on the tip of my tongue when I see him.

“Hi,” I say, and if it comes out dumb then Rhys doesn’t seem to notice.

“Get. Over here.”

I take one step forward and then Rhys is pulling me the rest of the way in, fist in the front of my sweater and hand around the back of my neck. He kisses me like it’s been a week instead of a day, and I am trying to stop smiling so that I can kiss him back properly. The door thuds shut behind me and Rhys walks backwards, falling into the couch and taking me with him. I sprawl over him and giggle, and he scoops me more completely into his lap, and the whole time he’s kissing and kissing my lips and I’ve never felt this before.

I finally stop laughing when Rhys lets out a frustrated growl and nips my lip hard. I gasp at the sudden pain but as soon as my mouth isn’t stretched into a grin, Rhys gets his tongue between my lips and oh, yes now he has my attention.

“What took you so long?” Rhys mumbles.

“Accident on the road…” My words are eaten up and I don’t explain any further.

I clasp my fingers behind his neck, and when his hands slide up my back, under my sweater, I arch toward him like he’s the sun.

“You want to go to bed?” Rhys asks, and it’s so low and rough that all I can do is nod. I lean in and press a sucking kiss against his neck, and the groan this produces makes me preen. I do it again, and Rhys slide a hand beneath my hair and holds my head to his throat as I move down to his adam’s apple.

“Fuck, let’s go to bed.”

I am inclined to agree, but at that moment there’s a knock on the door.

“Nope,” Rhys calls toward it. “Not tonight.”

But the door barges open, and I quickly slide out of his lap onto the couch next to him.

“Oh good,” Cassian says. “Feyre’s already here.”

Cassian is followed by both Mor and Azriel. Mor is wearing pyjama pants and Azriel is carrying a stack of pizza boxes.

“Guys come on, are there no boundaries at all?”

“It’s Monday,” Mor states. “It’s movie night.”

She sits down on the couch next to me in her usual position, and I shuffle over to give her a little more space. Rhys just sighs, then reaches over and hauls me back into his lap. I blush, and lean in to whisper in his ear.

“Are they supposed to know?” I ask him. “About us? Are we telling?”

“We already know,” Mor says. I whip my head around, and she just shrugs. “Ask Azriel.”

“We knew before you did,” Azriel comments. He doesn’t look over at us, he’s busy fiddling with Rhys’s laptop and getting it to connect to the TV.

“You guys didn’t know?” Cassian asks, looking genuinely puzzled.

“Rhys is right, we need better boundaries,” I mutter.

“We can still kick them out, you know,” he says. I sigh.

“I mean it is Monday. To be fair to them.”

“Pick a short movie,” Rhys says to the others.

“We’re not picking based on run time,” Cassian says. “How about you show some respect for the sanctity of movie night?”

“How about you get out of my house and watch your own TV?” Rhys snaps back.

“You know that’s not how it’s done,” Cassian replies simply.

In the end, they settle on the live action Cinderella. Azriel flicks off the lights and Mor puts a bag of popcorn in the microwave, and I settle against Rhys.

The truth is I have so loved being a part of movie night Mondays. It’s the thing that makes me feel like I belong here, and although of course I want alone time with Rhys, I can wait a couple of hours to preserve the ritual.

Rhys has other ideas.

Bluebirds fly over the screen, and in the dark room Rhys’s hands slip beneath my sweater again. I sigh contentedly, loving the warmth of him on my skin. He presses his mouth to the top of my shoulder, and I lean into him. I think he’s just going to hug me then, but his hands don’t stop moving. They stroke over my stomach, slow and heavy. His thumbs rub circles in the small of my back, his fingertips dip just under my waistband to skim across my hips. I’m soothed, I’m excited, I don’t know what to feel. After a few minutes, he leans forward and kisses the nape of my neck. Brushes his lips there, at first, then licks the spot before biting softly against my skin. I shiver in his lap, and he just squeezes my waist.

I don’t think I can handle this, not while there are people around, so I shift in his lap and tip my head against his shoulder. Move my neck out of reach. This does not phase Rhys, he only tugs his teeth against my ear instead. Traces the tip of his nose against my temple, then sucks my earlobe into his mouth. Runs his tongue along the inside edge of my ear and why does that feel good?

Meanwhile his nails are scratching up and down the outside of my thighs, hip to knee and back through my tights.

I turn my head in the dark room, knocking my nose against his. Rhys catches my lips and kisses me under the cover of a swell of music, and even though we barely move, I can feel my heart thud against my ribcage.

At that moment a cushion smacks us in the face.

“Oi, we said we know, not we want to watch,” Cassian says.

“And I said use your own TV,” Rhys replies mildly, and puts his mouth on my throat.

I laugh but pull back, shy now that we’ve been caught out. I try to slide out of Rhys’s lap but he doesn’t let me. Just hugs me back to him like a kid with a squirmy cat. Doesn’t try to kiss me anymore though, so I let it slide.

Ten minutes later, his hands are moving again.

Rhys’s arms are folded around my waist and one of his hands slips back beneath my sweater, stroking at the side of my ribs. He doesn’t do anything else, there’s no breath on my neck there’s just his fingers moving, steadily beneath my clothes.

I try to ignore this for a while, but the longer it goes on the more I feel it. It’s so harmless at first, but my skin loves his touch. I start leaning into it, and then it’s not enough. I want him to keep touching me, but I can’t do anything about it while we’re in a room full of people. Rhys’s movements move a little lower, he skims my waistband and suddenly I’m struggling.

“Tell them you’re tired,” Rhys murmurs in my ear. “Tell them you need to go to bed.”

I shake my head, feeling that there is nothing subtle at all about that statement and not being prepared to announce it to the group.

Then Rhys’s fingers move lower, and trace the centre seam of my tights.

I startle in his lap, and three pairs of eyes look to us.

“I… Rhys is terrorizing me,” I say. Rhys’s eyebrows go up. His hands sit innocently still at my waist. “I’m…” I give up, and mutter, “I’ll let you guys watch the movie in peace.”

I stand, and Rhys is a second behind me. I head for the door but Rhys puts his hand on my shoulders and steers me to his bedroom instead.

“Good night,” Mor calls, and she’s already turned back to the movie.

“Gross,” Cassian adds, but he too has his attention on the screen.

“See you tomorrow,” Azriel says, and his mouth is full of pizza.

And I marvel that it’s just not a big deal to them, this is normal, just like that.

Rhys shuts the door behind him, and it’s dark. I turn to say something to him, but he’s got his mouth on mine and I’m being backed into the bed. I can still hear the movie on the other side of the door, and I’m conscious of how close our friends are even as we’re pulling clothes off each other.

We slide between the sheets and there’s nothing like kissing Rhys while we’re naked. His skin is satin and heat, and I’m trying to press into him at every point of contact. Rhys’s hands never stop moving, they’re on my jaw then on my breasts then smoothing down my back then squeezing at my backside. When his fingers slip between my legs I have to bite down on a moan.

Rhys tugs my lip from my teeth.

“I like hearing you,” he says, before kissing from my chin to the hollow of my throat.

“Not with the others outside,” I whisper, but as I say it he pushes a finger inside me and I have to hide my face in his neck as I try to keep it together.

"But you're so sexy when you feel good." Rhys mutters it into my neck, moves his mouth on my throat. I give a brittle laugh.

"Tamlin used to get so embarrassed..."

There's a growl from Rhys, and at first I feel a flush of guilt for bringing him up. Again.

But that's not the issue.

"Then he's an idiot," he tells me. "All I want to do is make you scream."

He's moving his fingers inside me, as if to make a point, and my teeth clamp down hard on lip. "I can't," I gasp.

"Well," he mumbles. I can feel myself soaking his hand now, and my hips grind foward against his palm. "If you're feeling shy..." Rhys rolls me over and then draws me back in, so that my back is to his chest. "I can keep you quiet."

His hand slides between my legs again, and his teeth play against the back of my shoulder. But now his free hand comes up to cover my mouth, long fingers clamping over my cheeks and jaw. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers.

“Shhh.”

And then the head of his cock is pressing at my entrance, while his fingers move deftly over my clit and I’m glad of his hand on my mouth because I whimper into his palm.

“Good, darling?”

I can’t answer, of course, so I just nod and press my hips back, trying to move further onto him. After waiting all day for this, I don’t just want his fingers. He chuckles low under my hear. “Greedy little thing.” But he gives me what I want, pushes an inch inside of me and I'm falling apart. My hands clutch at his forearm in front of me, but I don’t pull his hand back from my face. He gives me another inch and it’s not nearly enough. I reach back for him, finding his hip and trying to tug it closer even though I’m straining with what I already have. Rhys pulls back and then thrusts hard into me, all at once, and I cry out. His fingers tighten across the lower half of my face, and I’m breathing hard through my nose.

“Fuck you’re good,” Rhys groans. “You’re so good, so good…”

He gives me time to adjust, or maybe he’s adjusting because when he drags a breath in it shudders.

“You want more?” he murmurs. I nod my head eagerly, and I can feel the smile behind my neck. “Of course you do,” he says, and he’s drawing out and pushing in and I’m home.

I don’t know how I used to go about my day, but all day today I’ve been on edge and willing the hours by and now, here, I’m finally breathing slow and deep and with every stroke I’m back in my body. I want Rhys’s arms tighter, I want him to bind me back into myself. I can’t speak but I meet his hips every time and I clutch his arms to myself where I can reach them. Rhys seems to understand, puts one of his legs through mine and draws them back toward him, keeps my head against his shoulder using the hand over my mouth, and hits that spot inside my harder and harder with every pass. I can’t stop the moans but they are muffled by his fingers. Rhys is doing better than I am, but with his mouth at my ear I still hear the catches in his breath as he speeds up.

“Have you been thinking of this, too?” he whispers. “Had difficulty concentrating at work? Rather spend your time getting fucked?”

I arch my back to get him deeper, and hope that answer will suffice.

“Have you been holding onto this all day?” His voice drops into that growl that I have no defences for whatsoever. “Need to give it to me?”

I would nod, but he’s holding my head so tightly now that I can’t move. I just whine against his callouses. And all the while those fingers circle between my thighs.

“Then give it to me.” That voice… it vibrates deep in my spine and I shiver in his arms. “Give it all to me, come for me.”

And it’s not difficult, I start to fall apart but Rhys keeps me in place as he fucks through my climax, not letting the rhythm drop, and I’m wrung out and wrung out on his cock.

“Good girl,” he breathes, and that kicks off an aftershock. “Good girl, good-” he cuts off, and the feeling of him coming has me spasming all over again. He’s silent as he shudders into me, and his fingers twitch on my jaw.

And I love it. His orgasm feels as good to me as mine, and by the time we’re panting softly into the dark, by the time he’s lowered his hand from my mouth and is stroking my flank instead, by the time his forehead is leaning against the back of my neck and the music from the movie is drifting back in under the door, I’m heavy and content and well on my way to sleep.

xxx

The rest of the week passes like this.

I will away the hours at work and then arrive breathless at Rhys’s doorstep. We occasionally tolerate the presence of our friends but spend most of our time wrapped up in each other, and the only times I spend in my own apartment are the few hours between when I wake up alone in Rhys’s bed and when I have to get on the bus.

By Friday, Rhys has a key for me.

“A key to your apartment?” We’re in his kitchen, I’m leaning against the kitchen counter while he makes tea.

“Sure, everyone else has one, why not?”

I laugh. “We’ve barely been dating a week.”

Rhys turns around and puts his forearms down on the table opposite me. “Is that what we’re doing?” His voice is dark and velvet.

“Oh, I, um… I guess we haven’t... ”

Rhys leans forward and kisses me until the kettle whistles.

“I can deal with that,” he says. He steps away to take the kettle off the stove.

“So… you’re my boyfriend?”

“Use whatever label you want.” He turns back to me, and reaches out in a motion that tucks my hair back and then trails to my chin. Pulls me forward. “As long as it means you’re mine.” His lips ghost over mine. “Okay by you?”

I wrap my arms around his neck. “I like ‘boyfriend,’” I tell him, and then he puts his mouth on mine and that’s the discussion done.

And it feels fast but it feels good, and if there is a part of me that is wary of the haste, no one else seems to think it odd. In fact our friends have almost no reaction to us being together, and so although I am self-conscious at first about how casual Rhys is with his affection, the touches of his hand on my hip and his lips on my hair become as natural as sitting on his couch and eating pizza. So I make a copy of my key for him too, and it doesn't feel like we're neighbours, it feels like we live in one big giant house where everyone has their own room but are never far.

When Rhys’s court date comes up a couple of weeks later, it’s something I had forgotten about entirely, and so I am not prepared when Tamlin’s name appears printed on the summons on the table in his apartment.

***

Holy shit I was going to wait until i hit chapter 12 and say something about how it's my longest fic (The Bargain is 11 chapters) but i realised that it has twice the word count of that whole thing.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2@highladysith@stardelia@feysand-loml@tillyrubes10@ratabrasileira@live-the-fangirl-life@maybekindasortaace@annejulianneh111@thebonecarver@rowaelinismyotp@loosingdreams@pitrsattabhaadmeinjao@achernarlight@swankii-art-teacher@sjmships@courtofjurdan@teddytdr@positivewitch@thalia-2-rose@darling-archeron@rapunzel1523@fairchildjace@hopefulacademia@story-scribbler@fandomstalker27@realbookloverproblems@dealfea@s-tormwitch@cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl@whoever-you-choose-to-love@endlessdaydream@rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red@alerialumina @elentiya-witc@elentiyawhitethorn

[realbookloverproblems]

yes yes YES !!

i just did my happy little dancy dance and my dog must think i’m insane but your writing is just so damn good

i am just so happy to see feysand happy

[funnytwittertweets]

[daydreamxr17]

Books I look forward in January 2023:

January is really gonna be powerful month!

[idonotcareaboutyouropinion-deac]

Cardan would definitely say something like that

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 9 | Feysand

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 My darlings thank you for persevering, we've made it to the smut...

We wake up in the middle of Sunday afternoon.

I blink and roll over, to find Rhys on his side, facing me, eyes open but not meeting mine.

“Good morning,” I rasp.

He reaches out and lets his fingers trail down the line of my throat.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

I’m sad that this is the first thing he says to me. I watch him, and the dark of his eyelashes.

“I’m not,” I say. I wriggle a little closer, facing him right under his nose, and he looks at me then. The three P.M. sunlight warms his eyes, and there’s a bit more colour in his cheeks than yesterday. “I… I liked it.” My knees knock against his, and he tangles our legs together. Closes one eye at me.

“Me too,” Rhys whispers. “I just. I don’t want you to have another Tamlin.”

“Then don’t throw plates at me,” I whisper back. Rhys huffs. I look at his lips. They’re sleep-swollen and I remember the feel of them on my mouth. “I liked… the intensity. In the beginning. With Tamlin,” I say. “I think that’s why I fell for him in the first place. That, and I wanted so badly to leave home. But then he got controlling. And mean. And jealous. Some of it was awful, but some of it… I liked. Even after I knew things were bad. Does that make me, I don’t know, does that mean something’s wrong with me?”

Rhys doesn’t respond immediately, just wraps a hand around the back of my knee, and drags it up to his hip. Rolls onto his back so that I’m pulled on top of him, and then slides a hand under my hair and strokes my cheek with his thumb.

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he tells me.

I look down at his face and run a finger down the length of his nose. Over those gorgeous lips.

“Do you think that you can have intense good without intense bad?” I ask. Rhys sighs.

“Maybe we can work on it together,” he says. “If we’re going to… to do this. If this is what you want.”

“It is,” I say. I turn my face and kiss his palm. Rhys gives the ghost of a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His free hand laces his fingers through mine and rests on his chest.

“You know if you want to go I’ll never stop you.” The memory of a silver pistol shivers between us.

“Then you’re already one up.”

“I do sometimes get jealous,” he admits.

“Me too,” I say.

“And… I’ll try not to push it too far.” He frowns. “I won’t push you too far.”

“How about you let me tell you where too far is?”

Rhys tucks escaping curls behind my ear. “Okay.” He frowns again.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing. You’re beautiful. That’s all.”

“And you’re a good person,” I whisper. Rhys lifts the hand on his chest and beckons with his forefinger. I lean down and kiss his lips, and we’re bed-warmed and loose and it’s a soft, liquid thing. I pull back to look at his face, but Rhys lifts his head and kisses me again. Again. Again.

His hand cups the back of my head while our mouths move, holds me to him, and when I sigh he licks against my teeth. I open for him, tongues hot and searching. He’s hard in an instant, and the sudden press of it between us has me breaking out in goosebumps. 

Rhys’s fingers slip back under my hair, and in between one kiss and the next, his hand curls into a fist and my head is pulled back in his grip. I gasp and the sudden sensation, the dull almost-pain of my scalp, the exposure of my throat. He kisses down my neck, curved toward him at this angle, while my hair is pulled a little tighter. A contorted, breathy moan escapes me, and Rhys growls in approval. He likes that I like this.

Rhys rolls us again, so that he’s on top now, and that heavy length of him between my legs makes me gasp. Our clothes twist and the skin of his stomach is hot against mine.

“I like you in my bed,” he murmurs, and his lips move to my jaw. To my neck, to that hollow in my throat.

“I like you,” I respond, and it earns me a roll of his hips. My back arches into it, and Rhys’s mouth is moving back up to my ear. He pauses to tug off my hoodie, and then pushes my tank top up to kiss my stomach. I flinch just a little.

“Okay?” Rhys asks. He’s stopped and is looking up at me.

“Yeah I just… have had a cold spot there. For the last few days.””

The look Rhys gives me is so melancholy, I almost want to take the words back. But then he puts his lips on my belly again, and presses very slow, deliberate kisses over my cold spot until it begins to warm up. Then he moves back up over me and is kissing my mouth again. It’s different now, though, and that’s not what I wanted.

“Rhys,” I say between kisses. “Rhys you’re holding back.”

“Of course I’m holding back,” he murmurs. “I told you. I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

“I want what you want.”

“I want things I shouldn’t want,” he says.

“Things like last night?” I ask. He doesn’t reply, only folds his fingers into mine above my head. “Show me again,” I breathe.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rhys mumbles.

“I want to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I can take it.”

Rhys pulls back and looks at me. I stick my chin out stubbornly, and he’s got his bottom lip in his teeth and warring eyes.

Quicker than I thought possible, he’s flipped me. I’m on my stomach and he’s straddling my knees. His fingers spear through my hair again, using it to drag my head toward him. It forces an arch in my back, and I can’t move.

“Is this what you want?” he asks. Hisses it in my ear, and his change of mood has me breathless.

“Yes,” I gasp, and I do. I want him to want me this much, I want to give him what other people can’t, I want to actually like being in my body for once.

Rhys hums and I can’t tell if it’s a contented sound or a warning sound. His fingers trace down my spine, then catch in the waistband of my jeans. He tugs down and presses a kiss just above my tailbone, and my whole body shivers hard in his hold. There’s a dark, low laugh, and I am already intoxicated by this heady, rich version of him.

I’m let go then, and when my cheek is against the mattress my hands slide up under the pillow, my knees shift on the sheets and I can’t keep still.

“Clothes off now,” Rhys croons, and I have never heard his voice like that. The molten slide of it makes me boneless, and I’m obeying without thinking. Lifting my hips so Rhys can pull my jeans off, ducking my head through when he peels off my tank top, shivering in my underwear. He pushes me back down, hand between my shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he says, and if I thought that voice was dangerous before it’s nothing compared to the way my mind banks at this. I want to make him say it again, and again. I want to be so very good for him.

I’m still face down and it’s an easy reach for Rhys to unclip my bra. His fingers move again, and this time the line from the nape of my neck to band of my underwear is unimpeded. It’s two fingers he uses to trace the track of my vertebrae, and he does pause on my tailbone but then he turns his wrist, and now he continues over the white cotton, following the seam of me and all the way to my clit. Rhys sucks in a breath through his teeth.

“You’re wet from having your hair pulled?” he asks. Doesn’t wait for an answer, just gathers my curls into his hand again and moves my head in a slow circle with the pony tail. Twists the length around his fist so that it’s tugged tighter, and then yanks me back once more. I don’t mean to moan but I do, and then his other hand is pressing against the wet patch on my underwear. “Oh we’re going to have fun, Feyre,” he says.

I say nothing, because his fingers are moving in slow circles now, and I can’t believe how quickly I’m slipping down into the hot, viscous pleasure of this. My limbs are still loose from recent slumber, and the pressure at the back of my head just focuses the sensation between my legs.

“I want to know all the things that make you make sounds like that.” His fingers get rougher over my clit, while the bend in my back is pushed a little harder. It forces another little cry from my lips, and Rhys chuckles. “Yes,” he says. “Those ones.”

Indeed my breathing is coming fast and shallow now, and honestly if he keeps going like this I’m going straight over the edge. His touch circles and circles, and I’m getting there too fast, I’m a little embarrassed, but in between pleasure and pain everything feels brighter and sharper.

At that moment Rhys pushes my underwear to the side and fingers land on my bare pussy. My hands tighten in the sheet and I’m properly moaning now, the tension ratcheting up as he slides through the slick of me. He’s stroking over my entrance now, and I’m on fire.

“Gods Rhys…” I get out. I’m trying to move my hips, but because of the position I’ve been forced into there’s little I can do. I’m at the limit of how far my back will arch and Rhys isn’t giving me an inch. He can see what I’m doing, though, and slowly pushes his fingers inside me. I cry out, I’m getting lost in this and he’s still got all his clothes on.

“That’s it,” Rhys says softly. “You’re so tight, and it’s just my fingers.” He’s sliding in and out, and every drag and push is felt all the way up my spine. "I can't tell you how long I've spent thinking about you. Just like this."

He keeps his fingers moving, and I start to shake a little. My moans are coming in short, broken cries and when he speeds up a little, I clench around him.

"Close already, darling?" he asks. The purr of his voice only pushes me further along, and honestly I'm surprised as he is. I don't answer, but I know I get wetter and that's response enough for him.

“Are you going to come for me?" His voice has dropped so low, I can barely handle it. "Come like a good girl?”

He uses my hair to tilt my face up to him and kisses my mouth, a vicious kiss that I can barely keep up with because I’m panting. Can’t keep my focus, but he’s biting my lips while I’m open-mouthed moaning and when he sucks on my tongue my climax shudders through me in a slow and rolling wave.

Rhys keeps kissing me while it crests and falls, until I can kiss him back properly, and then he lets my hair go and rolls me onto my back.

“Not bad for the first one,” he comments, and before I can formulate a retort he’s kissing me again and I really don’t care to reply. With my jeans gone, and only the soft fabric of his sweats between us, I can feel everything under his pants and it's so much and somehow not enough. I lift the hem of his t-shirt and he shucks it off with a movement that somehow flexes every muscle in his arms, chest, and abs. I'm half salivating over the sight of him, it's not fair.

He’s sliding my bra off my arms and I’m a little shy for a second, but then the warm of his palm squeezes over me and it feels so good I have no room to be insecure. Not when he pulls back, sits up and stares at my naked body with such heavy desire in his eyes that I’m getting wet all over again. His thumbs graze over my nipples, and then the sweats are on the floor with his t-shirt. This time when he kisses me his cock brushes against my stomach and I'm over-sensitised, I'm shivering, I'm empty.

Rhys tugs me closer by the thighs. Pauses a moment to reach into his bedside drawer, but I stop him.

"No, I..." I blush. "You don't have to, you know. I've got, I've got the bar in my arm and I got tested after... the last time." I don't want to mention his name again, not here in Rhys's bed. "I mean if you're okay with that."

Rhys watches me, with pure lust in his eyes. "Are you sure?" he asks. I lick my lips.

"Yeah, yes, I mean, if you've been..."

A slow smirk works its way onto his lovely face.

"I'm clean," he says, and then he kisses my jaw. "And here I thought you were done surprising me." Kisses my stomach. "How could I refuse such an offer?" Kisses between my legs, tongue stroking up my pussy and landing on my clit.

I arch my back into him, I'm short-circuiting under his mouth. I luxuriate in the feeling for just another minute before I can't stand it. I'm pulling him back up to my lips, so far done with being teased. Rhys chuckles while he kisses me, and slides his naked cock over the heat of me. I break the kiss as I gasp, and Rhys's hand glides down the underside of my thigh. Hooks one leg over his shoulder and then he’s leaning back over me and the head of his cock is at my entrance. My pulse is between my legs, and Rhys’s fingers tangle in mine. He brings them over my head and pins them there.

“Do you want to come again, Feyre?” he asks me. “Come hard on my cock?”

“Yes,” I whisper, and I’m scandalised by the way he’s talking to me. Scandalised by how much I like it.

“Good girl,” he says, and then he’s pushing inside me.

I gasp at this first slide, it’s the most delicious ache and he’s exhaling slowly against my lips. I want to grab onto him but my hands are held down and all I can do is squeeze his fingers as my body tries to make room for him. Rhys withdraws and I’m a whimpering mess.

“Just a little more,” he mutters, and then he’s sliding in again, and everything is so hot and slow I think I might drown in it. I jerk slightly this time when I’m stretched further, he’s in deeper now and he’s leaning on my leg that’s over his shoulder in the hopes of opening me up more. My other knee presses against his ribcage, trying to lessen the pressure on my hamstring.

“One more, almost there.” Rhys pulls back again and I swear I feel a worse ache in the space he leaves behind him, for just a moment before he’s coming back to me again, and I think this is his hilt because my eyes roll with the fullness of him and the moan he makes is a thing I feel in my bones. “Shit Feyre,” he breathes. “That’s… Mmm that’s a girl.”

He starts moving then, and gods but he feels good.

I’m so full of him, he’s so heavy all over me that I’m finally anchored, I finally stop feeling like I’m going to float away. I can’t be a ghost if I’m feeling this much, if I’m holding the pressure of pleasure in my body as it builds and builds.

My limbs are loosening up now, the leg over Rhys’s shoulder relaxes and I’m curled less tightly around his torso. Rhys sits up as his pace picks up, and he releases one of my hands but I don’t move it. He licks his thumb and circles it over my clit. My back arches at the contact, but his other hand splays over my sternum, holding me down. He fucks me harder now, and my lips are trying to form his name.

“Fuck Feyre,” Rhys mumbles. The hand on my chest slides up and shapes around my throat. “That’s a girl, that’s my fucking girl.” I grab a hold of his headboard and bite down on my lip to keep myself from moaning too loudly. Rhys increases the pressure on my clit at the same time as starts choking me a little, and I no longer care who might hear me. “That’s a good fucking girl. You look so fucking good like this do you know that?”

And the pleasure spikes at that, because I want so badly for him to want me, I want him to want me as much as I want him. It’s out of this desperation that I ask him.

“Are you going to come too?”

Rhys’s pupils blow wide at the question. “You want me to come?” he asks softly. “You want me to come inside you while I’m choking you, is that what you’d like?”

“Yes,” I answer again, because gods I do want that.

“You first honey,” he says. “I’ll come if you do. Do it for me.” His words roughen to a growl at the end, and his hand squeezes tighter. I can feel every one of his fingers, and my moans are cut off as a pounding builds in my temples. Rhys's strokes slow down suddenly, there are two, three languid slides and then it's hard and fast again. His fingers on my clit make steady, unrelenting circles and oh I am so close, so close to the edge.

Rhys’s hips are moving more erratically now, and the feeling of him getting closer, too, is pulling me apart.

“Do it now,” he snarls, and it whips out low and dark in my ear and it’s no difficulty at all to comply. I’m falling hard and fast, I’m spasming over his moving cock and true to his word, Rhys follows me over as I go. He groans next to my ear and finally, I slide my hands through his hair and hold him tightly to me as he comes down.

“Good?” I whisper, after we’ve been still for a few minutes. I can still feel his heartbeat racing against my skin, and I’m still wrapped around him. There’s a soft laugh, and Rhys rolls on to his back, tugging me with him.

“You’re going to ask me that while you’re full of my cum?” It sounds so obscene that I hide my face in Rhys’s neck. He laughs again, and kisses my head. “Yes,” he murmurs. His hands stroke my back, warm and calloused. “You were perfect, my gorgeous girl, my good girl.” He tilts my chin up with a forefinger, and kisses my mouth. “You are more than I deserve.” Whispered. “You are the things I don’t believe I can have.”

The praise has me glowing, at the same time as I want to argue with him so fervently about what he deserves, and can have in this life. But now he’s kissing me again, and I have to settle for trying to tell him with my lips.

xxx

The sun is going down again and we’re still in bed. We’ve spent the day slow fucking and I can barely move (“I can be gentle too, see.” Yes I- oh- yes I see. “You have to tap out, if you want me to stop okay? Just tap like this. Promise me.” I promise. “Good girl. Now come for me”). Rhys feels much calmer now, and that pleases me. We’ve eaten most of the cookies that I bought and I don’t think we’ve quite caught up on the sleep debt from the last couple of days because I’m tired deep into my bones.

“I don’t want to go to work tomorrow,” I mutter into Rhys’s chest. He laughs, and I can feel the rumble of it under my cheek.

“Me neither,” he says. I look up at him.

“You work with the guys right?”

“And Mor, too.”

“Okay I have a dumb question.” Rhys looks down at me. “What do you guys actually do?”

Rhys barks another laugh. “I’ve never even asked,” I admit. “I don’t know how, but I have no idea what you all do for a living.”

“It’s not nearly that interesting,” Rhys says. “We work in an auto shop.”

“Like selling cars?”

“No like mechanics,” he tells me. “It’s what my mother used to do, and when I was fourteen I started apprenticing with her. Just after we moved here. We all did, it was a good way to earn money and it kept us out of trouble. Until we learned to drive, anyway.”

“That’s so funny. I used to think you looked like you’d have a motorcycle.”

“What does one with a motorcycle look like?”

I shrug. “The tattoos and leather jackets, you know.”

“Right, sure,” Rhys says, and even though my head is back on his chest I can hear his smile.

“So, you all still work together after all these years?”

“Yeah. Our boss is an absolute prick but… I spent so much time in that shop with my mom. I can’t quite bring myself to leave. The others are just loyal to a fault and won’t leave me there. Pack animals, mom used to call us.”

I laugh a little at that. “Do you think you’ll always be there?”

“Ma always said she’d like to open her own garage. So, maybe I’d try to do that. But Amarantha pays us fuck all so I don’t really know how that’s going to happen.”

There’s quiet for a bit.

“Well,” I say, “when I’m a famous artist and my paintings go for a million dollars I’ll buy you that garage.” I smile up at him and he kisses my cheeks and then my nose.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Archeron.”

I move up and kiss him then, and his hand cradles my jaw, and next thing I know he’s got my leg over his hip and he’s pushing inside me. I hold onto his neck and bury my face at his throat, and we’re beginning again.

***

Yeah uhhhh for the rest of this fic every chapter is 50% smut, cool?

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina @elentiya-witchslayer

[realbookloverproblems]

WHAT

I NEED MORE OH MY GOD ITS GLORIOUS

they’re so cute and hot and sexy and it’s beautiful holy shit

[funnytwittertweets]

[mmvalentine]

Lover Like Me pt 8 | Feysand

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

I remember the next twenty-four hours in sleep- deprived snapshots.

Rhys is taken away in a police car, while Tamlin watches with grim satisfaction and Rhys’s friends stare daggers at him.

A couple of officers hang around to take statements, and while Mor and Cassian and Azriel argue loudly on Rhys’s behalf, I am the only one who was witness to his actions being self-defence. Or… me- defence. Oh gods it’s my fault.

“Now now, we’re not saying it’s anyone’s fault, ma’am. Would you be willing to come down to the station to make a statement?”

I nod, and follow the officer. Cassian and Mor are talking at the same time, trying to hold my hands and arguing that I shouldn’t have to go. Azriel is on the phone with what sounds to be someone who can give legal advice. I remember belatedly that Rhys threw Tamlin’s pistol into the dumpster and that that might be evidence, and tell the police.

After that I’m not sure what happens, the next snapshot is sitting in a room with fluorescent lighting and stained walls and feeling like a robot as I repeat what happened.

Yes, we were in a relationship. No, we weren’t married. We were engaged, what does that have to do with- yes, I had a few drinks. No, I didn’t call him. I don’t know where he got the gun.

I’m exhausted and the metal of the chair is cold on the back of my thighs, and I curse Mor for making me take off my jeans.

Time trips forward, I don’t know how long I’m there but Mor and Cassian are outside when they finally let me go. Mor puts an arm around my and is rubbing my shoulder as we walk to Cassian’s truck and I uncurse her because the hug is nice. Cassian’s dashboard tells me it’s 4am, and I groan.

We drive back to Velaris in near silence. I hadn’t wanted to leave Rhys, but at the station they said they weren’t going to process him until tomorrow. Azriel volunteered to stay, and sent the rest of us home. I sit in the back of Cassian’s car, leaning my head against the window but not sleeping. I can see him and Mor exchaning worried glances as we pull away from the town, but no one says anything.

We get back to the city when dawn is just leaking through the gloom and the other two go to bed. Mor kisses my temple and tells me her door is unlocked if I want to crawl into bed with her. I remember walking through my front door but I don’t remember what I do, I can’t have slept because I never went to bed. I think I had a shower, my clothes are different although I don’t recall changing, and there’s a mug of tea in my hands that has gone cold. Or maybe I didn’t boil the kettle, I couldn’t say. The snapshots have less and less in them.

At 9am Azriel texts us all to say that he still can’t talk to Rhys, and at that point I try to go to bed but I just lie there and stare at the ceiling and feel a cold spot on my stomach the shape of the end of a pistol barrel.

At lunch time, we sit around Mor’s table and eat cereal out of a box.

For dinner, Cassian orders pizza. I pick up a slice, but it has olives on it and Rhys isn’t here to eat them for me. I put the slice back down.

At half past ten in the evening, I get a call from Azriel, and when I pick up it’s Rhys’s voice.

“Hey it’s me,” he says, and relief floods my veins.

“Hey,” I say. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m alright. My phone’s dead, Azriel’s signing some paperwork.”

“Are you all done, can we come get you now?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, we’re leaving now.”

Mor and Cassian pick up on the conversation and get up immediately, and even though I don’t think any of us have slept much, we drive the hour back to Adriata. Azriel texts us the address of a McDonalds they’re eating in, and when we find them I barge through the restaurant and grab Rhys so hard that he makes a little ‘oof’ sound but I don’t care.

“Thank you,” I whisper. Now that I’m hugging him and he’s not in jail, all the emotions are shoving themselves up my throat and out my eyeballs. “You saved me. Thank you.”

Rhys hugs me back, and just says, “Any time.”

I move back and let the others hug him too, and we all slide into the booth with him and Azriel.

“Okay so, what actually happened?” Mor asks. “It’s all been so stressful I haven’t asked anyone.”

“Yeah,” Cassian adds. “One moment we’re in the club, then I get a call from Feyre saying there’s a fight happening. I rush out and next thing I know the police are there and Rhys is being arrested.”

Rhys looks at me, but I’m suddenly so exhausted, and now that the adrenalin is draining away I’m starting to get the shakes. I just shake my head. I lean my cheek against his shoulder and could honestly fall asleep right here. Let my eyes close, even.

“Well,” Rhys says, and he sounds as exhausted as I feel. I quickly feel guilty for thinking of myself; I’m not the one who spent the night in jail. “Quick recap. We were all having good time, and then Feyre’s ex-fiancé showed up and threatened to shoot her. So we got into it, and I guess he alerted the police somehow, because he knows he has that pesky restraining order.”

My eyes snap open at the ‘ex-fiancé’ comment. I hadn’t told him, but the police had asked me. I guess they let that slip.

“Wait Tamlin did what?” Mor asks.

“Pulled a gun, stuck it in her stomach. That’s all I saw when I opened the door to the alley.”

“Fuck, Feyre I didn’t know that,” Cass says. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” I say. “Only because you guys all came out though.”

"I'm guessing he knew running into me was a risk when he came after Feyre, and had one of his watch dogs make the emergency call." I doubt the police would have told Rhys who called them, but this does sound like something Tamlin would plan ahead and his guess makes sense to me.

“And sorry, what restraining order?” Mor says. “And how do I not know about this?” I actually want to know this, too.

“A couple of years ago, Tamlin got very drunk and got into a fight,” Azriel supplies. “We went to break it up, but by the time the police arrived, Tamlin had convinced everyone to blame it on us. And because he’s the rich white guy, it worked.”

“Rhys took the blame and got us out,” Cassian says bleakly. “And Tamlin filed a restraining order. Said Rhys attacked him out of the blue. Had bruises to show.”

“We didn’t tell you, Mor, because we thought you’d yell at us,” Azriel adds. She just rolls her eyes.

I sit up straighter. “So now what happens?”

“I have a court date,” Rhys says. He finishes his fries, and I’m noticing that he hasn’t looked at me since he said ‘ex-fiancé.’ Or maybe he’s just mad that I got him into this mess. “They said it should be fine, with Feyre’s statement, but I still have to put in the appearance.”

“That’s so unfair,” Mor says.

“Honestly I think it’s a pretty good outcome, all things considered,” Rhys said. “Can we go home now? I have never needed a shower so badly in my life.”

We all get out of the booth pretty quickly after that, although Cassian starts saying “that’s not true” and tells a story about Rhys falling into a pile of horse manure while on a high school field trip. I want it to cheer me up, but it doesn’t.

Mor takes the wheel on the way back and Cassian pulls his cap over his eyes and naps in the front seat. I’m in the back between Az and Rhys, and when Rhys buckles in he gives my hand a squeeze. I look at him, but he’s leaning his head back and closing his eyes, and I’m not sure if I feel reassured.

We get back to Velaris and shuffle out. I try to catch Rhys’s eye; I wonder if he wants to talk, or maybe if we can just sit together for a bit. He’s only been gone a day but… I haven’t slept and I just want us to be back on his couch with my legs on his lap.

But Rhys heads straight into his apartment, doesn’t say anything to me and closes the door before I can so much as look at him. I can hear the others murmur concerns about him, but no one goes after him and so I don’t feel like I should either. Maybe he needs space- Christ, I don’t know what he needs when he’s going through things. In the end, I just fold my arms tightly around myself and go home too.

I sleep fitfully though the night. I feel wrecked, but I keep dreaming of blonde hair and bullets and waking up with a phantom pain in my unwounded stomach. By the time the sun cracks through my window, I’m fully awake again. I pull on whatever clothes are on my chair- Rhys’s old armchair- and walk in the watery daylight with a hoodie pulled up. There’s a gas station not too far from here, I buy a few things and then come back. I’m sure I look horrendous, but I still knock softly on Rhys’s door to see if he’s awake, too. After a moment, he opens it.

“Hey,” Rhys says. If he’s surprised to see me here at 6am, he doesn’t say it. He’s in a black t-shirt and sweats, but he doesn’t look like he’s just woken up.

“Hey,” I say. I hold up the plastic bag from the gas station. “I brought cookies.”

To my immense relief, the corner of Rhys’s mouth lifts, and he stands back a little, holding the door for me. I step past him, and fold into the couch. But Rhys doesn’t sit with me, he crosses the room and sits on the floor instead. Leans against the wall, legs pulled in and head tipped back, forearms resting on knees.

“Are you alright?” I say softly. He looks at me, without lifting his head.

“Are you?”

I just look away. My instinct is to say yes, of course. Especially since he’s clearly not alright, and that seems more important.

But I’m trying not to do that.

“Come here,” Rhys whispers.

I get up off the couch and sit down opposite him. Rhys crosses his legs and leans forward, rubbing his face in his hands. He blows a breath out and looks at me, with bags under his eyes and hair all messed up at the front. But who am I to talk?

“I’m so sorry, Feyre.” He touches my chin, and when he puts his hands back in his lap I notice they’re shaking.

“What are you sorry for? You saved my life,” I tell him. It sounds weird when I say it, like he’s superman or something. Like people in real life shouldn't need saving.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry he’s so shit.”

I shrug. “I’m sorry you had to spend the night in jail.”

Rhys’s turn to shrug. “I’ve done it before.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course you have.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then Rhys says, “You never told me you were engaged to him.”

I look away. “Does it make a difference?”

“I guess not. I just… didn’t realise it was so serious.”

I don’t really know what to say to that. Yes, it was serious. It’s part of the reason it took me so long to leave, I really thought he was the one. I thought we were going to be together forever. I thought he’d never hurt me, not really, not on purpose…

It doesn’t matter now.

I drag the plastic bag down from the couch and pull out a packet of chocolate covered cookies. “Sugar hit?” I say. Changing the subject. Rhys barks out a laugh, but there’s not much in it. He takes the packet from me, tears it open with his teeth and shoves a cookie into his mouth. I take one too, and nibble it more slowly.

“So, seriously. Was it terrible, at the station?”

Rhys sighs. “It’s not that, I told you, I’ve been arrested before. You mostly just sit around and get shunted from room to room.”

“But you aren’t sleeping.”

“Neither are you.”

I just wait.

“Thanks for the cookies,” Rhys says eventually. “You should probably try to get some more rest. It’s so late. Early. Whatever.”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” I say quietly.

“Feyre…”

“You’re not telling me something,” I blurt. I was trying to respect his privacy, but I’m starting to get anxious about this weird new energy between us. Rhys winces and I feel worse.

“I’m not…” His teeth click shut. “I’m not good to be around right now, okay?”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

He laughs softly. “I like that, you know. Most people are.”

“Why?”

“Because they know better. Go home, Feyre.”

“But why?”

“Because if you don’t, you will be afraid of me, and that would break my heart.”

“That’s a shit reason.”

“Jesus Feyre…” He turns his head away for a moment, and I’ve never seen him so unsettled. “Okay,” Rhys says finally. “Stay. If you want. Just… talk to me. About something different, please.”

I just hand him another packet of cookies. Lemon iced, this time. He shakes his head, but starts eating them anyway.

“What did you get arrested for before?” I ask. He stops chewing for a second, then swallows.

“Something similar,” is all he says. “Ask me something else.” He picks up the box of cookies.

I try to think of something nice and neutral, distracting. But there’s only one other question in my mind.

“What did you mean?” I say. “When you said… a lover nothing like you.”

A cookie pauses, half way to Rhys’s mouth. He puts it down, and sets the box aside, wiping crumbs off on his pants. The tremor has not subsided.

“I just meant… that you deserve to be with someone really good. Not like Tamlin.”

“And… not like you.”

“No,” Rhys replies slowly. “I’m not… good like that.” It sounds like what he said earlier.

“What do you mean, not good?” I ask. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

“No offence, but from what I know about the people that have been in your life, I’d wager your scale is a little off.” He tries to smile at me. “I mean to say, you really can do much better. Than me.”

But that sounds like crazy talk to me. There is no one better, I want to tell him. But of course, it’s not just that there’s no one better. It’s that I don’t want anyone better. Anyone... else.

And that thought is so hard to look at directly. It's barely been any time- three months? If that? Who gets feelings for someone three months after breaking off an engagement?

But I'm too far in now, I have to ask it.

“Do you…” How do I phrase this without it being mortifying? “You don’t want me… like that?”

“I…” Rhys opens and closes his mouth, and I think, it's too quick. He needed more time. You both did.

“I don’t mean… It’s not that I don’t… Fuck. Feyre,” he grabs a hold of my hands, and I think then that he’s about to try to let me down easy. “I’ve thought about it, of course I have.”

My heart jumps at that. I’m still pretty sure he’s about to say something that’s going to hurt, but... he’s thought about us? I immediately feel like less of an idiot.

“Me too,” I say quietly. I want him to know, even if he’s rejecting me. His eyes light with pain, and that’s not a good sign.

“I’m not good for you,” he says. Quietly, desperately.

“But why, Rhys?” I move his hand from mine to my face, and he sucks air in through his teeth. Doesn’t pull away though, just strokes my cheek with his thumb. “You have to tell me,” I beg. “Whatever it is you’re not saying, you can’t just decide you’re not good for me and not tell me why.”

“Because I’m not who you think I am,” Rhys says. His eyes howl, and but I still don’t understand. “I’m so… I’m so angry. If the guys hadn’t turned up, I don’t know if I would have stopped. In the alley. Would have kept hitting him. Men like Tamlin…”

“Tamlin deserved it.”

“But he’s not the only one, Feyre.” He looks down, as if trying to compose himself. When he looks up, his voice is a little calmer. “I was raised in a certain… in a certain way. We solved problems, we expressed emotions with fists. It was all I knew, for a very long time.”

“Your dad…”

“Yes. My father was an asshole who beat up my mother and I fought back and fought back and fought back, until one day I got good enough, got big enough to knock him on his ass. He stood up, walked out the door, and got in his car. And my mother said, ‘If you’re still here when he gets back, he’ll kill you.’ And I said if ‘I’m not, he’ll kill you.’ So we threw together a bag each and left. Slept on couches and other people’s floors until we got this place. But I never stopped being angry. And so you see, I’m just the same as them.”

He gets quieter as he speaks, and at the end it’s just a whisper.

“Rhys,” I breathe. “You are not the same as them. They hurt innocent people. You… you…”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.” His hand slides from my cheek down to the side of my neck. His thumb moves in the hollow of my throat. “You don’t know what I want to do…”

“So tell me…” I cover his hand with mine, holding it closer to me.

“The fight doesn’t… doesn’t leave me. For ages. That’s what I mean when I say I’m not good to be around, I’m not… I’m not safe, there’s so much in me, and it's not even that I can't control it, it's that I like it, and that's the scary part. I like the hurt, I just want...” His fingers twitch against my skin, and he jerks his hand back.

But I’m holding it, I don’t let him let me go.

“Show me,” I breathe.

“Feyre…” The word is a growl. A warning.

“Please.” I push his hand harder against me. “Please I... I need it. Ever since that night I’ve just been floating. He didn’t shoot me, but I feel like a ghost. And then you were there, and you've already done so much, and I can't cope with it. I can't be nothing and just take and take from you. I want you to need something from me. I need you to need something from me.”

“This isn’t something you can give me.”

“I think I should get to decide that.”

“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.”

“Then show me. I’ll tell you if I can’t take it, I’ll…”

“Feyre I can’t. I can't hurt you.”

“Please. Please Rhys I…” And then my words choke off because he grips me, suddenly, tightly around my throat. His eyes are so black and he’s staring at my mouth.

“This isn’t a good idea,” he murmurs, but he already looks so far away. His thumb moves as he squeezes, not so hard that I’ve stopped breathing, but hard enough that my pulse beats against his palm and he’s getting to know the shape of my bones. His hands are still shaking.

“I don’t mind,” I say. Tight words, having to make their way past his fingers. Rhys blinks, and draws his hand back.

“You should,” he says. But before he can get far I’m pulling him back, putting both his hands back to my neck.

“No please,” I beg. “I want it, I…” Rhys’s fingers close around me again, and his eyes are blazing. His thumbs meet under my chin.

“You need it?” he asks.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“You like this?”

“Yes.” And it's so fucked up, but I do.

“You want me?”

How can I answer that? I want him so much it’s a black hole in my chest, and I’m blinking back tears.

“I want you,” I say. And he pulls me into him and kisses me, warm against my mouth and warm around my throat. When his lips start to leave mine I whimper a little, I can’t help it, and Rhys groans and kisses me again, open mouthed this time and gods I’ve never felt anything like this. Anything so everywhere. He drags me upward with him, onto our knees so that the front of our bodies press together. I put my hands on his wrists, and kiss him back. The pressure of his hands encircling my neck is grounding, somehow and I... I like it, it feels delicious and I feel more sensitive to everything. The touch of his tongue has me shuddering and I feel every seam of my clothing on my skin like they're teeth.

Rhys pulls back, breathing hard, and after a second he leans his forehead against mine. I fall forward just a little, still searching for his lips, but he’s loosened his grip. Is moving his hands from my neck down toward my shoulders, thumbs sweeping over my collar bones and then back up the line of my throat.

“Feyre this is bad…”

“Does it feel bad?” I slide my hands up his chest.

“No, that’s why it’s bad.” His fingers press against the base of my skull.

“I respectfully disagree.”

“Oh well as long as you’re being respectful.”

I lift my face back up towards him, and he gives in. Kisses me again, sucks against my lip and slides his nose bridge down mine. But it's gentle this time.

“Are you okay?” he asks. I nod, and notice that his hands are shaking less now. I give him another peck on the lips to prove it. Rhys sighs.

"You really should get some rest," he says.

I want to argue, but I'm so exhausted I'm dizzy. So I say "okay," but my face must betray me because there's a low chuckle at my ear.

“You want to stay?" he asks. "I have to sleep too, you know."

I nod again, this time with a smile, and let him take my hand and lead me back to his room. Some part of me realises I’ve never been in his bedroom before, even though he’s been in mine plenty of times. Some part me of me realises I’m climbing into his bed with him.

But I’m so tired.

The sheets are cool when we lie down, and Rhys pulls me into his body and tucks his face against the back of my beck. I can feel the brush of his lips on the top of my spine. The sun is fully up now.

This time, we both sleep.

*** Realised after I started this that most of you are Americans and you don't call them biscuits and had to ctrl + f replace...

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @achernarlight @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @hopefulacademia @story-scribbler @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems @dealfea @s-tormwitch @cretaceous-therapod @whenyadoesntcutit @scatterbrainedgirl @whoever-you-choose-to-love @endlessdaydream @themoonthestarsthesuriel @rarephloxes @timesconvert @mis-lil-red @alerialumina

[realbookloverproblems]

OH. MY. GOD.

the “oh well as long as you’re being respectful”

and the “the touch of his tongue has me shuddering and I feel every seam of my clothing on my skin like they’re teeth”

wow i love

[elentiyawhitethorn]

Rowan and his baby girl

You Give Me All I Need | Part Two

CW: NSFW, BDSM, daddy kink, sex toys, language

AN: Sorry this took so long. Even saying plot is minimal is a stretch… enjoy!

Part One//Part Three//3664 words

Rowan didn’t bother speeding. In fact, he kept well below the speed limit.

“Rowan,” Aelin hissed from the passenger seat. “Speed the fuck up.”

He glanced over amusedly. “We wouldn’t want to get in a crash, now would we?”

“We’re not going to get in a gods-damn crash. The road’s empty.” Indeed it was.

“Hasn’t anybody bothered to teach you patience?” Rowan asked, endlessly entertained.

A huff was all he got in return.

Rowan’s house was ten minutes from the sex shop. At the rate he was going, it would take fifteen. With only a few minutes left in the drive, movement in the corner of Rowan’s eye caught his attention.

“Did I tell you you could touch yourself?” his voice was slightly less amused, more stern and disapproving now.

Aelin just about growled. “No, daddy.”

“Watch your tone, baby. You don’t want to get on my bad side.” Glancing over, she reluctantly withdrew her fingers from the waistband of her jeans. Poor woman, all strung up. Rowan smiled to himself.

He pulled into his long gravel driveway only moments later, following the winding gravel road to his modest house. Rowan parked the car and unbuckled, but didn’t reach for the door yet.

“This is your last chance to back out.”

Aelin didn’t waste any time before saying, “What kind of wimp do you think I am?” She got out on her side, not bothering to wait for him before heading for the front door.

Rowan chuckled and opened the car door. He followed, watching as Aelin’s hips swayed back and forth. She made it to the door and turned around, putting her hands on her hips.

Giving her a wink, he switched the bag of toys to his other hand and inserted his key in the lock. Rowan opened the door and walked in, flipping a light on.

Aelin closed and locked the door, letting him know exactly how much she wanted to be here. He only set the bag down and gestured for her to come closer.

Aelin sidled up to him, reaching for his chest. He caught her wrists before they made contact. “Not so fast, baby. I want you in your new outfit, remember?”

She bit her lip and nodded. At least Aelin had the good sense not to rush him as he slowly lifted the lingerie out of the bag, careful to keep the other contents hidden.

“Bathroom’s that way,” Rowan instructed, giving a nod to the hallway.

Aelin delicately took hold of the outfit, fluttering her eyelashes before starting down the hall. Rowan watched her go, not bothering the take out any of the new toys. They could get into that upstairs.

In record time, Aelin exited the bathroom. She came out to find Rowan shirtless, waiting for her. Rowan didn’t notice the lusty glance she sent the way of his muscles, too busy tracing her body with his eyes. She was even more beautiful that she’d looked in the dressing room, if that was possible.

“Come here.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. “If you want me, you’ll have to come get me.” She crossed her arms.

Rowan’s eyes darkened. If she wanted to disobey him, she would have to suffer the consequences. It wasn’t his decision.

He took a step toward Aelin, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. She smirked and took a step back.

With every step he took toward Aelin, and every step she moved back, Rowan knew he must look like a feral animal tracking his prey. Indeed, that was the general state of affairs.

Sick of playing, Rowan lunged forward, slamming Aelin against the wall. She pressed her body against his, not at all upset to be caught. Rowan smiled at her desperation. If she thought teasing him would spur him into letting her come, she had another thing coming.

Rowan leaned forward, letting his breath trail along her jawbone. Aelin tilted her head back, inviting his attention to her delicate neck. He complied, letting his teeth scrape her pulse point.

Aelin groaned and her legs widened, trying to find purchase on Rowan’s waist. He merely igorned her needy attempts at grinding against him and continued his work on her throat, licking and sucking, and leaving little nips here and there. He wasn’t doing it do satisfy her, only to give himself the pleasure of watching her writhe against him.

One of his hands slid to her waist, toying with the gold string holding up the flimsy excuse for underwear. The other hand repeated the motions on the tie of the top, his thumb coming close to Aelin’s breast, but not close enough for her liking. Aelin arched her back against the wall, trying to get her breasts closer to his fingers. Smirking, Rowan let his hand enclose a breast through the material, letting Aelin think she actually had a say in what he did with her.

Rowan massaged it slowly, then lifted his other hand to even out the ministrations. Aelin sighed contentedly as he pinched a nipple through the metallic material.

An animalistic whimper left Aelin’s mouth when Rowan stepped back. “Daddy,” she whined.

Rowan smirked. “You want to go upstairs?”

She nodded eagerly. He picked up the bag containing the sex toys and gestured for Aelin to follow him up the stairs.

Rowan was having a hard time restraining his laughter as he sensed Aelin almost pressed against his back on the staircase, silently urging him to move faster. He was going to enjoy taking her apart. If she was good, he might even put her back together again.

Rowan grabbed Aelin by the wrist and dragged her down the hall, headed for his bedroom. The woman was so wound up she actually groaned when he grabbed her. Pitiful.

At the end of her patience, Aelin tugged Rowan’s mouth down to hers as soon as they stepped in and he flipped on the light. Rowan let her kiss him for a few seconds before shoving her away and gesturing to the desk against his wall. “Bend over that.”

Aelin eyed the bed hungrily, but didn’t protest. She moved to the desk and bent over, showing off her ass. The panty portion of her little getup was minimal. Rowan took a couple seconds to admire the curve of her ass before dropping the bag and moving over.

Aelin yelped in surprise and pain when she felt a hand slap her ass, the sound filling the room. Rowan hadn’t even warned her.

“You need to learn some manners, baby. Do you understand why I have to do this?”

Aelin’s fingers curled over the edge of the desk. Her voice was rough when she said, “Yes, daddy.”

Rowan smiled. “Good girl.” He spanked her again, still going lightly, and she cried out again. “Has anyone spanked you before?”

“No,” Aelin whispered, her voice so soft he almost didn’t hear it.

Rowan let a finger slide along her ass, reveling in the shiver that ran down her spine. “How do you like it?”

“I want… I want you to do it again.” Aelin’s voice was shaky, and she stood on her toes so that her bottom was lifted in the air. An offering.

One Rowan would gladly accept.

His hand struck her skin again, harder this time. He wondered just how much Aelin could take. Animalistic noises started exiting Aelin’s mouth as Rowan punished her. Her hands were clenched around the edge of the desk and she was whimpering and begging for “daddy” to stop, and to keep going, all at the same time.

Once he got to ten, Rowan stopped. Now he could hear Aelin’s ragged breathing. “You good, baby?”

Aelin sighed in content. “Yes, daddy.”

Rowan wrapped an arm around Aelin’s middle, drawing her off the desk and carrying her to the bed. There were tears on Aelin’s face, Rowan noted, much to his amusement. Perhaps he should have been a bit gentler with someone who had never been spanked before. Then again, he hadn’t brought her here to be gentle with her.

Rowan stepped back, watching as Aelin, still unsatisfied, spread her legs, attempting to seduce him. As if no one had ever tried that before.

A cruel smirk settling on his face, Rowan meandered to his nightstand and pulled a couple of ties out of the drawer. There had been no need to purchase any at the sex shop—Rowan tied up plenty of women.

Aelin bit her lip eagerly as Rowan made his way back. He sat down on the bed, chuckling as Aelin just about climbed into his lap.

“We’re going to have some fun. You up for that?” Rowan’s voice was a silken purr, caressing Aelin the same way the hand he’d placed on her back was: comforting and reassuring her. Preparing her.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” Rowan asked sharply.

“Yes, daddy.”

Rowan smiled. “Good girl.”

He pulled off the scanty top of the lingerie set. As loathe as he was to see it go, he wanted bare skin more. He then gently pulled Aelin’s wrists together in front of her body, tying them with the velvet material. Some doms liked rope or handcuffs. Rowan like his women comfortable in silken splendor as he fucked the life out of them.

Then Rowan gave Aelin a gentle kiss on the mouth before standing and reaching for the bag. He pulled out the first toy.

Dangling in his hand were anal beads. Aelin’s gaze turned dark, and Rowan got the feeling she wasn’t new to anal. Following his gesture, Aelin turned and got on her hands and knees, her ass facing Rowan.

Rowan grabbed a bottle of lube and set to work, sliding down the panty portion of the golden outfit to give himself ample space and leaving her entirely naked. Once Aelin was ready, he gently pushed the first bead inside. Aelin took it remarkably well, a small whimper the only sound leaving her lips.

There were four beads on the toy, getting larger toward the loop at the end. Rowan slowly inserted the next one, drawing a larger moan from Aelin’s lips. Deciding he wanted to have some fun, Rowan pushed two fingers into Aelin’s wet pussy.

Aelin arched her back, groaning. Chuckling, Rowan pulled out the second bead and then pushed it back in, preparing her. His fingers started thrusting harder, and when he added both a third bead and a third finger, Aelin let out a mewling noise along with a “daddy, please.” Rowan smiled to himself and toyed with the beads, tugging it just enough that Aelin could feel it but no beads popped out.

She was getting louder now, trying to rock her hips into Rowan’s hand. He pulled his fingers out and slapped her ass. “Be still, baby.”

Aelin murmered her agreement quietly, still moaning. Rowan started finger-fucking her again as he added the fourth and final bead. This had her crying out and burying her head in the sheets. Rowan kept moving his hand, circling his thumb around her clit now too. With the other hand he pulled out the last two beads, smirking at the feral groan Aelin let out. Then he pushed them back in roughly.

Aelin just about collapsed onto the bed, her ass still sticking in the air. Rowan didn’t stop fucking her pussy until he felt her inner muscles start to clench around his fingers. Then he retracted his hand, ignoring Aelin’s whining.

Careful to keep his actions gentle and slow enough that he didn’t trigger an orgasm, Rowan withdrew all of the anal beads. Then, leaving Aelin sprawled face-first on the bed, he turned to the bag and removed another toy.

He had grabbed an internal vibrator. Grinning, Rowan moved over and took a seat on the bed once more. He kissed Aelin’s shoulders and said, “Why don’t you turn over for me, hmm?”

Aelin managed to roll onto her back, awkwardly spread her legs again, not used to maneuvering with her hands tied in front of her. Laying her on her back, Rowan moved down and turned on the vibrator. Not caring whether or not she was ready, he plunged the toy inside of Aelin’s entrance.

Such a sharp contrast his gentler movements just moments prior. She gasped, bucking her hips. “Gods, Rowan.”

He smiled and moved the vibrator deeper in her pussy, delighting in the groan that tore from her lips. He kept sliding it farther, slowly filling Aelin up with the toy. And she continued to moan, writhing around and struggling against the material holding her hands together above her head.

One small twist of the vibrator had Aelin gasping and bucking her hips. “Rowan, please. I can’t. I can’t. Daddy.”

Ignoring her entirely, Rowan twisted it more, incoherent words falling from Aelin’s lips. He kept this up—the twisting, the thrusting, the teasing—for a few more minutes. And then, when Aelin was shaking and ready to orgasm, Rowan switched off the vibrator and pulled it out.

Aelin arched her back, whining. “Daddy, please let me come.”

“You think it’s going to be that easy? Don’t you remember what I said to you in the shop?”

Aelin bit her lip and nodded obediently.

“Then why don’t you blow me before we try out our next little item?”

Fully aware of the fact that Rowan wasn’t really asking, Aelin sat up, still having trouble with her hands tied in front of her body, and got on all fours with her forearms braced in front of her. Rowan unbuckled his belt and removed his pants, discarding them and the vibrator on the floor.

Aelin opened her pretty little lips and Rowan let her lean forward and envelop his length in her warm mouth. Her tongue swirled around the base, and Rowan had to fend off a groan as she took him deeper.

Aelin’s eyes were locked on Rowan’s, her eyelashes fluttering delicately. She pulled back, then bobbed her head forward swiftly, drawing a groan out of Rowan. He frowned and thrust forward. “Do you like that, baby? Do you like choking on my cock?”

A moan from Aelin at the words had Rowan letting out a similar sound, the vibrations too much for him. “That’s it, baby,” he muttered.

Aelin moved her head faster, taking more of him in her mouth. Her hands were unable to help out, still tied together, but Aelin made up for it. Her tongue flattened and her mouth formed a perfect O shape, Aelin holding his gaze all the while.

When Rowan felt his tip hit the back of her throat, he clenched his fists at his sides. “Do you want me to fuck your throat, you little slut?”

Unable to move her head, Aelin could only moan in response. Rowan decided to take that as a yes.

He lifted one hand and tangled it in Aelin’s blonde locks, pushing her head down experimentally. Then he really started moving.

Aelin didn’t struggle as Rowan started fucking her mouth, she just stared at him, moaning occasionally. Rowan himself was getting louder, feral noises leaving his lips, along with muttered praises to Aelin.

He finally broke her gaze as he let his eyes flutter shut and his head fall back. Rowan was thrusting harder, holding Aelin’s head in place as he fucked her. Rowan was hitting the back of her throat with every thrust, continuing to find his pleasure in her sweet, wet mouth.

He wondered how many men had been where he was now for her gag reflex to be so nearly nonexistent. Before he could tell Aelin what a slut she was and revel in the groan that it would undoubtedly earn, Rowan felt himself nearing the edge. “Can I come in your mouth?” he rasped.

A moan was all she could reply with, and come he did, watching as Aelin swallowed. Then he pulled out. “You did so good for me, baby.”

Aelin smiled at the praise, licking her lips.

Smirking, Rowan reached for the bag once more.

A moment of confusion transpired before Aelin realized what was in Rowan’s hand. Then her eyes widened and her mouth parted slightly.

It was a sex saddle, slightly smaller than average and also more circular than others, designed to rest under a woman and vibrate. It was what Lorcan had been so entertained by. Rowan had done plenty of kinky shit with women—while he often preferred no toys, he did get discounts and it was hard to pass up the opportunities—he had never used anything like this before. And Rowan wanted to watch Aelin sitting on top and screaming her pleasure to the gods.

So he climbed on the bed and helped Aelin, still speechless, not to mention unsteady from the previous toys, into a sitting position. Rowan kissed Aelin softly on the mouth, whispering, “Are you ready, baby girl?”

She nodded eagerly. He could see the emotions swirling around her eyes: nerves, anticipation, desire… the lust clouded her features, and Rowan smiled at the hazy expression on her face.

He placed the saddle underneath Aelin’s center, and she shivered as the cold material made contact. “Daddy,” she whispered.

Rowan kissed her on each cheek before turning the dial to 1. Aelin bit her lip in concentration as the machine’s purr blended with both of their heavy breathing.

She bucked her hips, and judging by the surprise on her face, she hadn’t meant to. Rowan chuckled, praising her, before setting the dial to 3. The high was a 10.

Aelin moaned, rocking back and forth. Her tied hands were in front of her body, holding onto one of Rowan’s shoulders tightly as she swayed and sighed. He adjusted their position so that Aelin could no longer move her legs, and the apex of her legs was firmly planted on the saddle.

Rowan turned the dial a couple notches higher. Aelin groaned. “Fuck, daddy, fuck.”

Rowan grinned. “How does that feel?”

“It feels so good. So good,” she whispered hoarsely.

Aelin’s hips were grinding down on the vibrating machine unconsciously and her hands were gripping his shoulder even more tightly than before.

Rowan turned the dial to an 8, and Aelin yelled, burying her face in Rowan’s chest. She was shaking, and he knew she was about to orgasm. “Daddy please, may I come?”

“Yes, baby, that’s it. Come for me. Come for daddy.” He whispered filthy nothings into her ear as she screamed, touching her all the while.

Aelin was panting, and Rowan knew he was too. “That was so good, baby,” he said.

Aelin didn’t respond, too busy groaning. He hadn’t turned the machine off, feeling generous. She writhed, trying to get away, overly sensitive.

“I can’t come again, daddy.”

“Have a little faith in yourself,” Rowan drawled. He pulled Aelin’s mouth onto his and kissed her, forcing his tongue into her mouth as she let out a cacophony of noises.

He moved his hand to a breast and pinched Aelin’s nipple, tugging the delicate flesh and running his thumb over it to soothe the hurt. She shook, still struggling to get away from the toy. But Rowan was holding her on firmly. Each moan was almost indistinguishable from the next.

Aelin started to cry, and he knew she was going to come again. She rode the machine as she shattered, and Rowan didn’t let up his hands on her body, touching, tugging, pinching, twisting, everywhere his fingers roved. Rowan had never felt like this before—he was always using women to make himself come, and if they managed to get there too, good for them. But he wanted Aelin feel good, wanted to make her feel good.

Aelin was loud, as every woman that found her way to Rowan’s bed was loud. Rowan was suddenly grateful he didn’t have any nearby neighbors, even more so as he turned the dial to 9.

A sob was ripped from Aelin’s mouth. She was struggling to get away, all while riding the machine unwittingly. Rowan lowered his mouth to suck a nipple as she jerked back and forth.

Everything was too much for Aelin, he could see that, and it was so, so easy for her to reach her pleasure one last time as Rowan turned the dial to 10, the max. He could faintly hear the vibrations of it, even over Aelin’s moans and cries. Rowan held onto Aelin, stroking her soothingly as she fell over the edge.

Aelin went limp in his arms when Rowan turned the machine off. He gently set her back on the bed and untied her wrists, kissing each gently before releasing them. Then he grabbed the toy, covered in Aelin’s juices, and headed off to clean it, along with the others. He worked at a sex shop, after all; hygiene was very important to him.

Then he came back with a damp rag to clean off Aelin. She was semi-conscious, her eyelids fluttering weakly. Rowan smirked at her before wiping her down. He was nice to his women.

When he was done, Rowan lay down on the bed next to Aelin. “How are you feeling, baby girl?”

She leaned into Rowan’s warmth. “Like I just had the best sex of my life.”

He chuckled, amused by the fact that after all that, the woman never lost her brazen attitude. “You think maybe we should do that again sometime?” he asked, feeling slightly nervous and not knowing why.

Aelin hummed contentedly. “In what world would I say no to that?”

Rowan laughed. He kissed her on the cheek. He didn’t know why he couldn’t stop. He just couldn’t get enough of her.

“What’s your name?” Aelin asked.

Rowan raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “You know my name.”

“If I’m coming back here sometime to let you fuck me how you want, I think I deserve a full name.”

He chuckled in surprise. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

She smiled, seeming to approve. “Aelin Galathynius.”

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@highlady-fireheart

@infernoqueen19

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

[guerrillatech]

[simplystormie]

YOU DONT PAY ENOUGH THEN!!!!!!!

[zagreus]

if you c*nsor anything in a post you are l*gally required to put all of the omitted v*wels at the end as a footn*te

*eeoo

[doctress]

Okay th*n. *f you’r* sure about th*s. 

Old Macd*nald had a farm.  

*eieio

[zagreus]

i’m going to shatter you like glass

[nightmareonspookystreet-deactiv]

rb this to give the person you rb it from a hug

[pansexual-lilychen]

Jude: why be in his DMs when you can be in his nightmares

[romancefairy]

*jude threatening cardan holding a dagger to his throat*

cardan: jokes on you, now i'm horny.