summary: taboo dynamics lead to unhappy endings or do they? let’s find out how it works when you’re fucking your dad’s best friend on the low
pairing: rhysand x fem!reader
warnings: nsfw, dirty talk, power dynamics, dad’s best friend trope, age gap, maybe slightly manipulative
amara’s note: guys im dying for older man rhysand oh my god, also hi it was ages ago i wrote a fic im coming out of retirement
dbf!Rhys who swears he’s not a pervert. Really, he’s not. It’s just unavoidable to sneak a peek at your silly little outfits that barely cover anything. You dress like temptation, and he’s only a man. Right?
dbf!Rhys who adores the size difference between you. Who can’t stop thinking about how your arms barely fit around his torso when you hugged him, giggling about how long it’s been since you saw each other.
dbf!Rhys who knows you’re both lying through your teeth. Because it hasn’t been “so long”, not when he’s been seeing you in secret since the day you left for college.
dbf!Rhys who sits beside you at family dinner, cool as ever. One tattooed hand casually resting under the table on your bare thigh while he talks to your dad about an upcoming fundraiser, his voice smooth, unreadable, like he isn’t slowly dragging his fingers up your leg.
dbf!Rhys who has absolutely no business being balls-deep inside you, who definitely has no business fucking harder and deeper when he hears your wrecked little whine, whispering that no guy could ever touch you the way he does. That you’re so in love with him it hurts.
dbf!Rhys who knows you’re stupidly in love with him. All wide eyes and soft sighs, looking at him like he hung the stars. He finds it sweet. A little brain-dead but completely addictive.
He knows exactly what happens when he talks to someone else. When he flashes that dazzling smile at another woman, just to watch the way your expression shifts.
You don’t and can’t say anything, not really. You just sit there, stewing, jealousy burning under your skin while pretending like your heart isn’t being fucking crushed.
And he loves it.
Loves that you get all worked up over him. Loves knowing you’d never say it out loud, but the thought of him touching someone else makes you murderous.
He never does touch others, of course. He only smiles, maybe flirts a little but never lets it go further. Because he knows exactly who he belongs to. And he knows you’ll come crawling back, needing to be reminded of it too.
dbf!Rhys, whose god-given talent for talking dirty fixes anything.
You could be mad, pouty, worked up beyond belief. But a few words from that wicked mouth and suddenly everything feels okay again.
Now, you’d been with other men before. Heard your fair share of freaky, nasty shit. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to Rhysand’s foul mouth.
He’s formulating new sentences, just mouthing of. He didn’t even have to touch you sometimes. One low whisper, one filthy promise, one groaned-out nickname and you were done for. And don’t let anyone hear it too, they’d clutch their pearls and run into the light.
“Told you you couldn’t handle it,” he murmurs, voice low and smug as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Not this dick, baby.”
“feel how deep i am inside? feel how good im fucking you? yeah— shh, just take what you need, i’m all yours, just fuck me,” His palm presses harder against your stomach, right over the bulge. His eyes flicker between your fucked-out face and where he’s buried so deep inside you.
dbf!Rhys who knows he’s never, ever letting a sweet thing like you go.
Not like you’re making it hard for him or anything. I mean, you’re the perfect little thing to have, trusting and so sweet. Just what he adores about you,
And of course he’s going to break the news to your dad about you. Nothing about that worries him. If your parents get enraged, they just don’t understand your love.
Rhysand will take care of you. That’s what he’s there for. Just lean on him. You don’t need anyone else. Especially not your friends or your family who keep telling you how wrong your dynamic is. They’re just jealous!
Summary: After spending Calanmai together, you and Lucien discover that you two may be spending more than one night together.
A/N: Mentions of intimacy (18+). Also, the themes from Wicked: For Good’s As Long As Your Mine played great inspiration to the creation of this story. Therefore, for anyone who is a fan of ACOTAR and Wicked, this fic is for you.
Keep in mind that this fic takes place in a time where Feyre and her sisters never make their way to Velaris (or Prythian as a whole). As a result, Lucien’s true origins aren’t known or discussed by others.
The first thing you noticed when you woke up this morning was the fact that you were not in your room.
As a matter of fact, the room before you incorporated themes of oranges, reds, and gold into the greens, browns, and ivory of the Spring Court. Specifically, of your High Lord’s estate.
Looking down at some weight that you started noticing against your stomach, you noticed that what was against you was a hand. A sun-kissed hand with scratches. Scratches that looked very similar to the ones that Lu…
“Lucien,” you accidentally said aloud.
You stayed still. Hoping that you haven’t awoken the Spring Court’s Emissary. After hearing his gentle breathing not breaking, you relax.
Giving yourself a few more seconds just to be sure that Lucien won’t be awoken by you, you turn to your other side to face your bedmate from last night.
The male before you was shirtless, maybe even naked still from the previous night, with his fiery red hair splayed out onto his pillow despite sleeping on his side.
Taking the opportunity to take in Lucien’s current form, you take note of how relaxed he looks. So, at ease from his usual charismatic and somewhat sarcastic demeanor that he presents to everyone else. Mainly court officials as he’s always been super polite with staff members at the manor including yourself.
Still, you never would have thought that the polite interactions that occurred between the two of you would lead to you being Cauldron-blessed by allowing you the opportunity to share his bed with him for Calanmai.
The night prior…
Lucien has you in his arms as he attempts to open the door to his chambers.
“Shit, shit, shit,” the fiery headed male repeats, causing you to giggle.
“Hardy, har, har,” Lucien says sarcastically. “Laugh at my misfortune of not being able to open and close the door properly with you in my arms.”
You frown at him. “Are you saying I weigh a lot? If not, you can put me down and--”
Before you can jump out of his arms, Lucien is finally able to open the door.
Once he walks over the threshold of his room, Lucien walks you over to his bed and gently sets you down before heading to the door once again to lock the door.
As you wait for Lucien to come back, you couldn’t help but take notice of his muscular backside as well as admiring the way his ass looks in his trousers.
Must be from all that training he does in the courtyard, you think as your mind wanders to those afternoons where he trains shirtless and you simply just happen to be walking as you take your usual afternoon tea.
Before your mind can wander further, the little rational voice inside you reprimands yourself for looking at the male before you, The Spring Court Emissary for that matter, in such a way.
This is probably a form of treason, you think to yourself. If anyone finds out, who knows what the High Lord will do to me for associating myself with his Emissary and friend.
You must have been in your head for quite a bit because the next thing you know, Lucien is at your side again and is making himself to your seated position on his bed by getting on his knees.
“Is everything alright, my lady?” Lucien asks, voice filled with concern. “Are you having second thoughts about our evening together? If you are, I completely understand and won’t be offended.”
Touched by his words of concern, you shake your head. Also, you are surprised by how he addressed you as if you were of equal status to him rather than a maid for the Spring Court.
“It’s not that, sir, I…” you struggle to voice your opinions.
He holds your hand in comfort. “There’s no need for formalities between us. Especially with what we are about to do. Please, call me Lucien and share what’s on your mind.”
Once again, moved by his words and actions, you tread carefully through the thoughts that are running through your mind. “I’m just worried that us being together in this way will lead to consequences. Particularly, for me.”
As you finish, you notice the neutral look he has on his face. Thinking you have ruined the mood for this evening, you are about to apologize and make attempts to leave when he gently stops you.
“Please, my lady,” he starts. “You are welcomed here with me unless you wish it otherwise. In which, I’ll respect your wishes. Just know, I wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t want it. Nor would I put you in a position where your reputation would be at risk. You have my word on that.”
“… By the way, I detest your comments on your body. You are most certainly not heavy. Not for me. It’s just… I was a bit frustrated by the fact that my attempts at having you swoon for me were thwarted by my lack of not being able to open a door properly.”
You were shocked to hear Lucien’s voice about his concerns regarding his actions just a few minutes ago. In your opinion, you thought it was a bit cute how frustrating he was over something that wasn’t a big deal to him. As you were merely happy to simply be experiencing this moment with him. A male whom you’ve always admired from afar as well as secretly wish that he could be yours in all the ways that matter. Though, you suppose physically is better than not at all.
Involuntary, as if by instinct, you bring a hand to touch Lucien’s cheek. Nuzzling himself into your wrist, Lucien takes a deep inhale before he kisses your wrist and eventually kisses up and down your arm.
Already feeling overwhelmed by his ministrations, you attempt to hold in your moans by biting your lips. Afraid that the noises that may escape your lips will sound unladylike, leading to the moment between you two being ruined.
You must have been in your own thoughts for a while because now you have noticed the lack of lips against your wrist. You then open your eyes to see Lucien looking at you intently.
Ever so gently, Lucien takes your cheeks into his hands as a smile graces his face. “What’s the matter, sweet one? Is it already too much? Am I hurting you? I…”
You shake your head. “No. Everything you’re doing feels wonderful. I just figured you wouldn’t want to hear me make the most unladylike noises and turn you off.”
Lucien smirks. “Nonsense. Letting me be able to hear the evidence of the pleasure that I’m giving you is an honor. Especially if it were to come from you.”
As if his words were intended to make you blush, what he says and does next ruins you.
“Command me, my sweet (y/n),” he says, accentuating the moment with a kiss to your hand.
The rest of the night was spent with sweet kisses, caresses, and feelings you haven’t encountered. Though, the feeling you hadn’t expected to experience during your night with Lucien was a snap that had occurred within your body, mind, and soul.
Lucien is my mate, is the last thought you have as your eyes finally close for the night as Lucien’s face was nuzzled into your bare chest. Clinging to you as if you were his life line. The thing that mattered most to him. When in reality, this night would probably be the only thing you two shared despite the incessant tug you felt towards him now.
Coming back to your senses, your hand subconsciously makes its way towards Lucien’s cheek. Particularly, the one where he was scarred by Armantha (along with losing his eye).
Gently caressing him, you think about how much it must have hurt him to lose a vital part of himself. Sure it was only one eye that he was easily able to replace using an artificial mechanical eye made of gold, you couldn’t help but wonder about the pain he went through simply for speaking up for his High Lord and friend.
“It’s an awful sight, isn’t it?” A voice breaks through your thoughts.
_________________________________________
“Lucien!” The beauty in front of him replies to him in shock. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you… I…”
Lucien gently pressed a finger to (y/n)’s lips as he shifted himself sideways, putting a hand behind his head for support. “I see no issue with it. Especially since you and I are mates.”
The look on (y/n)’s morphs to confusion. “You know?”
Lucien nods. “Have for a while now actually.”
“Why…why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place,” Lucien starts. “Besides, wouldn’t it be cruel of me to sentence you to look upon my ugliness for the rest of your days?”
“I think being your mate involves myself having some say in it, does it not?” You asked him with genuine curiosity and confusion. “Unless…this is just your nice way of…”
“No,” Lucien says instantly. “Don’t you dare even think that when I’m at my most content in your presence.”
Your silence urged him to continue. “Every conversation we’ve had, though small, has been one of the best parts of my day. Hel, sometimes even my week or month. Yet every time I gather the courage to ask to court you, I take one look in the mirror and see my scars. Not just on my face but within myself… and I can’t bring myself to do that to you. Sentence you to a life with a scarred man. You deserve someone who’s not me…”
Not only is Lucien surprised by the tears that escaped his eyes by the time he finished his speech but the fact that your hand was already there wiping them away.
Of all the scenarios he had expected, this wasn’t what came to mind. While you weren’t cruel by any means, Lucien had figured that you would thank him for the night you shared and find an excuse to leave as he felt he was too much to deal with. That didn’t need his trauma onto your own life and—
“Lucien,” you cooed sweetly to him. “You’re beautiful.”
Lucien responds with a humorless laugh. “You don't have to lie.”
“I’m not lying,” you say intently. “It’s looking at things another way.”
While Lucien looks into your eyes to see if there’s any chance of you, you continue to speak to him.
“What I mean by the latter part of my statement is that what a person may see as embarrassing or shameful within themselves, someone else may see as the opposite.”
You continued, touching his scarred cheek.“These scars that you think make you ugly only show everyone that sees you that you are stronger than what tried to destroy you. If others can’t see past that, it’s their loss but my gain. That is… if you decide to accept me as your mate. I understand if you’ve changed your mind—”
Before you can finish, Lucien brings you in for a hug and presses a kiss atop your head. “I would gladly be your mate. Although, I have one condition.”
Your eyes look at him curiously. “What’s that?”
He smirks. “Let me court you properly.”
_________________________________________
Hearing those words leave Lucien’s mouth causes you to smile. “Court me properly? Even though we are mates?”
Lucien nods, tucking a strand of hand behind your ear. “Figured it would be good for us to spend time together to get to know each other better. That way you can decide if you really want to be with me or not.”
“I’d like that,” you replied, shifting closer to him (as if it were possible considering the little space between you two). “Though you should know that I want you just as much as you want me. Mind, body, and soul.”
Lucien then has you both sit up so that he can lounge back in his bed with you lying against his chest, enjoying the sunrise together. The same sunrise acts as the physical symbol to the beginning of what is to come in Lucien and your relationship.
i’m tired of the narrative that rhysand is the perfect mate when he literally is no better than tamlin.
i’m tired of people thinking it’s okay that Cassian never, NEVER, truly sticks up for Nesta at any point in the story.
i’m tired of Azriel getting a pass for feeling entitled to Elain but Lucien is a walking devil all for accidentally blurting out she’s his mate during a bad time and trying to respect Elain’s space while still showing her kindness.
i’m tired of Rhysand and the IC getting a pass for their shady behavior, especially when it comes to the pregnancy plot line. they should’ve told her when they knew, no they weren’t keeping it from her “for her health!!!” they were stripping feyre of her autonomy, the same with nesta.
i’m tired of Elain being seen as a child.
i’m tired of everyone vilifying Nesta.
i’m tired of Rhysand and the IC being extended empathy for their past and even current actions but that same forgiveness isn’t given to anyone else. people seem to forget rhysand is supposed to be morally gray, he’s done bad things for the sake of doing bad, he is not the perfect goody-goody in a dark color palette.
i’m tired of people forgetting Feyre (and any other pov characters) is an unreliable narrator.
i’m tired of people acting like Nesta and Feyre aren’t the different sides of the same coin.
i’m tired of people pretending the IC wouldnt have reacted differently had it been feyre to give “x” away in CC3.
