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fawnandshadows · 1 year

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You’re So Vain

Pairing: Feysand

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, cuck!tamlin, karaoke

Word Count: 6k

Gifting this one to my darling @impossiblescissorspeachpaper !! Thank you so much for helping me work through this idea 🥹🫶🏻. Hope you have a marvelous December ♥️. This is the first Feysand fic I have ever written!! My humble offering to @feysand-month 🤍.

“What is he doing here?” Feyre asked, glaring at the back of her ex-boyfriend. Tall — the only two people taller than him at the party were his brothers — and she could see his lean muscles underneath his white button down. God, who wears a well pressed shirt to a karaoke party?

He ran a tan hand through his perfectly tousled hair which caused Feyre to narrow her eyes. She knew exactly how much time and effort he put into his hair. How many products he used, how much he spent on imported hair care products from France. How the little movement he just did was actually pre-determined and done to make him look nonchalant.

She hated how much she remembered about him when they broke up 8 months ago.

She hated how much she learned about him when they only dated for a month. Four weeks. 30 days. 730 hours.

She hated that she still thought about him when she fucked her current boyfriend — Tamlin. But it was the only way she could feel pleasure when she laid underneath him and he grunted on top of her. Most days she didn’t even like Tamlin. But it was better than being alone.

“He’s my cousin,” Mor explained, running a hand over her slinky red dress. Style ran in the family, apparently. Feyre adjusted her own simple black dress. “I couldn’t just not invite him.”

Her smile was too innocent.

“What were your words? ‘He would never degrade himself with a karaoke party?’” Ferye asked sarcastically, giving her friend a bland look and shifting all of her golden brown hair to one shoulder. It was absurdly hot in their apartment, but she guessed that’s what happened when you crammed too many bodies into an apartment like sardines. Even if it was the middle of December, and it wasn’t as if their apartment was small by any means. But Feyre felt her blood start to simmer the second Rhysand walked into the room.

“Evidently I was wrong.” Mor said brightly, pouring herself and Feyre large portions of her homemade margaritas. She handed Feyre a red plastic cup rimmed with salt.

“He broke up with me, Mor,” Feyre said softly, proud of herself for hiding the hitch in her voice. “Just because you put us in the same room doesn’t mean he’s going to magically fall in love with me. Plus I have a boyfriend.”

Mor rolled her brown eyes and took a sip of her Margarita.

“Sadly.” Mor muttered, not hiding her hatred for Feyre’s boyfriend.

“If Amarantha comes, then I’m leaving.” Feyre said seriously. She had no wish to see the red head clinging to Rhys — the thought alone had her seeing red. She’d rather scratch her eyes out than see those two going at it in real life. They were all over social media — it didn’t matter that she had Amarantha blocked on all platforms, but she couldn’t go on tiktok without seeing edits of them on her FYP. And if she saw one more picture of them on her Pinterest she was going to blow a gasket.

It didn’t matter than Amarantha was married to somebody else, some high ranking government official — Rhysand was still more powerful than her husband. With his old money and family connections.

Feyre wanted to vomit just thinking about them together.

She could only go on Instagram in small bursts, and every time she fought the urge to check his Instagram to see if he was posting about them. She didn’t go on Instagram often, since it was almost always a battle she lost.

“No way that bitch is getting past our door.” Mor said viciously. It was a toss up between who she hated more: Amarantha or Tamlin.

Feyre’s blue eyes traveled back to her ex-boyfriend and her world stopped for a bit to see that he was looking at her. His violet eyes intense as they stared at her.

Rage simmered through her veins as he smirked at her.

Feyre glared at him as she took a large gulp of her margarita.

“You can’t leave me tonight.” Feyre told Mor, who looked at her mischievously.

— —

Mor was a horrible friend.

30 minutes later Rhysand approached them and Mor just had to double check the karaoke machine.

“There you are,” Rhysand said in a voice that was practically a purr. “I’ve been looking for you, Feyre Darling.”

Her stomach dipped as he said her nickname. His British accent just as lovely and attractive as ever.

“Don’t,” Feyre said in a cold voice, jamming her finger into his chest. “Call me that.”

His smirk grew, and the cocky expression on his handsome face irked her as much as it unraveled her. She wondered what the hell he saw in her face. She was never as good at masking her emotions as he was.

“You’ve always loved it when I called you that,” He dipped his head close to her — close enough that she could feel his damp breath on her cheek. “If I recall correctly,” Warmth flooded her veins. “You especially liked when I said it as you were coming all over my cock—”

“Stop—”

“Tell me, Feyre Darling, has anyone else been able to reach the spot deep inside of you?”

“Yes.” Feyre lied through her teeth.

“Liar.” Rhsyand said softly, his lips still upturned.

“Tamlin does,” Feyre continued with her lie, not breaking eye contact as she took another large sip of her drink. “He makes me forget your name. All the time.” I can only come if I imagine he’s you.

She thought a hint of fury passed through his eyes.

He licked his lips and Feyre hated how her eyes were drawn to the action.

“You’re with Tamlin?” Rhsyand asked in a flat, cold voice. He was close enough that Feyre could feel the tension radiating from his body.

“Yes.” Feyre replied, tilting her chin up to glare at him.

Rhys stole the plastic cup from her hand and finished it in one drink. Her eyes glassed a little as she looked at the way his throat worked. Fuck, she had a thing for necks. And she recalled so vividly how Rhys liked it when she bit him right next to his pulse — the first time she did it was on a whim, but it pushed him over the edge and caused him to come inside of her.

They were on his fucking yacht and had sex the entire weekend.

How the hell was she with a guy who had his own yacht?

“I bet he doesn’t even touch your clit,” Rhys said, taking a step towards her until her back was pressed into the counter, his arms caging her in. “Or go down on you at all. He’s a prick.”

True. Everything he said was true.

And yet she felt the need to defend her boyfriend.

“His cock is bigger than yours.”

Another lie.

His gaze darkened and his smirk fell.

“You’re a horrible liar, Feyre Darling.”

“Then why do you look like someone kicked your puppy?”

“Because the thought of him sticking his tiny prick inside of you makes me want to flay the skin from his bones.”

Feyre bit her lip.

“Why do you care so much?” Feyre asked, her face pulling towards his.

“Because I remember how fucking wet you were coming on my cock over and over again, Feyre Darling, and your sweet little pants as you stretched around me. And how fucking insatiable you were riding me all night long,” His lips brushed the shell of her ear, causing her to shiver. “I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

True.

“How the hell did we have room for your ego in our relationship?”

Feyre glared as his lips fell back into a smirk.

“I bet you’re wet right now.” Rhys said, and Feyre felt her cheeks burn.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Mor’s boisterous voice echoed through the microphone.

Feyre recognized the music and lyrics instantly.

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy.

Feyre felt herself smiling, the song fit her friend perfectly.

With two hands, she pushed Rhysand away from her and muttered, “I need another margarita.”

The sound of Rhys’s laughter grated on her nerves and set her on edge — especially because she could feel how wet her panties were.

She was grateful Mor only knew how to make strong margaritas. And she was also incredibly grateful that Mor thrived in the spotlight because it meant that no one could see her skulking in the corner.

Mor crooned the words, “But it's just a sweet, sweet fantasy, baby - When I close my eyes, you come and take me - On and on and on, it's so deep in my daydreams,” and twisted her body to the music in a way that captured everyone’s attention. And there was one brunette that Mor was making eyes at, and Feyre knew Mor was going to go back with her tonight.

Leaving her their apartment.

Feyre took another swig of her drink and grimaced when she found it was empty, so she filled it up again. By the time Mor finished her song, Feyre was half way done with her third margarita when her blonde friend pointed to her.

“Feyre,” Mor sung her name into the microphone. “It’s your turn.”

Feyre was ready to shake her head and run out the door, but she saw Rhysand smirking at her and raising his eyebrows in a challenge, Feyre quickly finished her drink and walked to where Mor stood on a makeshift stage. She didn’t even know how her roommate got it into their apartment without her knowing, and the sparkling disco ball that hung over the stage came close to smacking her in the head.

She took the mic from her friend and slowly scrolled through the songs until she found the perfect one.

The opening notes sounded through the room and her eyes clashed with violet ones as she sang, “You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht,” She hated the fact that he had an actual fucking yacht. “Your hat strategically dipped below one eye - Your scarf it was apricot,” She gestured to the imaginary clothes dramatically and rolled her eyes as she moved. “You had one eye in the mirror, as you watched yourself gavotte,”

She noted the exact moment that recognition dawned on his face — it was accompanied by his brothers laughing and playfully punching him in the arms.

Her hips moved with the beat of the song, popping to the side as she sang, “And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner - They'd be your partner and,” A smirk stretched across his face as she danced like she was Kate Hudson from How To Lose A Guy in Ten Days. “You're so vain - You probably think this song is about you - You're so vain (you're so vain) - I bet you think this song is about you - Don't you don't you?”

The bastard brought his hands up and brought them together — he was slow clapping at her. Douche, Feyre cursed silently, hating that he was enjoying this.

“You had me several months,” She intentionally changed the lyric, but the venom that laced her voice was unplanned. “Ago when I was still quite naive - Well you said that we made such a pretty pair and that you would never leave,” If it wasn’t for the copious amounts of tequila, then she would have moderated her voice. “But you gave away the things you loved - And one of them was me,” She placed her hand on her chest and bowed dramatically, showing off her cleavage just slightly and she watched as Rhys’s violet eyes followed. His jaw clenched. “I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee clouds in my coffee and,” Her hips popped with the song, and she grinned hearing everyone singing along. Everyone but Rhys. “You're so vain- You probably think this song is about you - You're so vain,” Even Azriel and Cassian were singing along — Cassian cupping his hands and sang with the booming voice. Azriel may have just been mouthing the words, but a win was a win.

Feyre continued to sing, loving how the tequila made her bold and brash even though she was certain she would be cringing with regret in the morning.

Her eyes narrowed as she spit out the lines, “Well you're where you should be all the time - And when you're not, you're with some underworld spy - Or the wife of a close friend wife of a close friend,” An image of him and Amarantha tangled in sheets flashed through her mind, fueling her anger.

Like a spark in an engine, the mental image of that old crone with her hands on Rhys sent her spiraling as she sang the last few lines of the song. “Probably think this song is about you - You're so vain.”

She didn’t call on someone else, she just set the mic down and marched into her room, avoiding eye contact with everyone in her path.

Feyre was vaguely aware of Cassian climbing onto the stage and making a show of selecting whatever song he was going to sing.

She closed the door behind her, but her neck whipped around when it opened two seconds later.

Rhys slid into her room and leaned against the closed door. His white shirt tight over his chest as he crossed his arms. The muscles on his arms straining against the fabric — the bastard probably did it on purpose.

He crossed one ankle over the other as he gazed at her.

“Feyre Darling,” He said in his lilting accent. “Did you really think I would let you get away with that?”

Feyre lifted a hand, pointing towards the door, and said, “Get out.”

He locked the door behind his back and pushed off of the frame, taking a step towards her.

She could hear Cassian begin his song through the door. It sounded suspiciously like Meat Loaf.

“I have a boyfriend.” Feyre said, dropping her hand as Rhys walked closer to her.

“And yet you sang to me tonight.”

Feyre rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

“I think you missed the point of the fucking song.”

“And I think you missed me.” Rhys said and he swooped his head down to her, but Feyre pushed him away.

“What the fuck are you doing,Rhys? You,” She poked his peck roughly, hating how his white upper teeth sank into his bottom lip to hide a smile. “Broke up,” She punctuated every word with her fingers on his chest. “With me.”

His violet eyes darkened.

“Because I had to, not because I wanted to.” His voice was unbearably soft.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You’ve gotten a potty mouth since we were together,” Rhys observed, and before Feyre could stop him he brought his hand to her face and brushed his thumb over her lips. “Your mouth is much too pretty for such dirty words.”

“I must have picked it up from Tamlin.” Feyre said, pouting as his thumb stilled on her lips.

“Then I’m going to fuck it out of your system.” Rhys growled, fury lining his face at the mention of her boyfriend.

“Oh, so it’s ok for you to say fuck?” Feyre narrowed her eyes, drawing out the word and putting extra emphasis on the k.

“Your mouth is going to be the first thing I fuck tonight.”

Feyre gasped as his hand moved from her mouth and tangled in her hair, tugging it sharply to angle her mouth directly under his.

She shivered, remembering how much he loved it when she took his cock into her mouth. He loved coming down her throat as Feyre looked up at him with wide blue eyes, especially with smeared makeup. And she knew it drove him crazy to watch her swallow.

“And your girlfriend?” Feyre said spitefully, unable to not throw it in his face.

His grip on her hair tightened.

“One day, love, I’ll tell you everything.” He said, his breath fanning over her face.

Agitation stung under the surface of her skin.

“You can tell me now,” Feyre said between her clenched teeth. “Or you can get out.”

“You don’t want me to leave,” Rhys placed his lips against her cheek and Feyre’s breath came faltering out of her lips, and he slowly moved down to her neck. His kisses burning a trail over her sensitive skin. “Or you would have kicked me out by now.” He said into her neck.

His tongue traced over her fluttering pulse.

“I tried.”

“That little fit? That’s our foreplay, Feyre Darling, you should remember that.” Rhys said as he moved his lips up her neck.

He was right.

He loved to heat her up and cool her down.

She was about to respond, but his lips dropped to hers.

Hot and needy.

Feyre felt her knees give out, but Rhysand’s free arm wrapped around her and brought their fronts together.

His tongue grazed the seam of her lips and Feyre parted her mouth, moaning as his tongue slid past her lips.

Breathlessly he pulled away from her and said, “I knew you missed me.”

Feyre rolled her eyes at his arrogance.

“There is one thing that I missed.” Feyre admitted and placed her palm against his hard cock over his black slacks.

Rhys chuckled lightly and said, “A rather large thing, really, darling, but then again you were always greedy when it came to my cock. You could never get enough.”

A rush of applause sounded through the door — Cassian must have finished his song.

“Did anyone see you follow me?” Feyre asked, finally registering the fact that there was still a party going on without them.

Rhysand gave her a bland, regal look.

“Do you really think this is my first time sneaking away for a tryst, love?”

Feyre glowered at him.

“It is with me.” She growled and roughly unbuttoned his shirt — a few of his buttons popping off and clanking as they landed. Feyre didn’t want to imagine how much they cost. They were probably made of platinum.

“Darling, don’t take your jealousy out on my Armani.” Rhysand said, laughter lacing his voice as he shrugged out of his shirt. He walked over to the side of her room where her desk laid and hung his shirt on the back of her chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle.

He stepped out of his shoes, and then the clicking of his belt unbuckling filled the room, followed by the swishing of his pants.

And then he was naked in front of her and it became a little harder for Feyre to breathe.

Her mouth watered a bit at the sight of his erection — a little bead of liquid pooling at the tip.

He looked so fucking confident as he walked over to her, as if they were in his room.

“You know,” Feyre said, looking up at him. “My lock is broken. It only works like 50% of the time.”

Rhys placed two hands on her exposed arms and turned her around, his hand leaving her skin to remove her dress.

“I was never one to shy away from a little exhibitionism,” Rhys whispered into her ear as he unzipped her dress slowly. “Love, why the fuck are you wearing this rag? We break up and you lose all sense of fashion?”

Feyre rolled her eyes.

“I have more important things to spend my money on, like rent.”

She shivered as he nudged the sleeves of her shoulders and the dress pooled by her feet. Feyre stood in only her heels and little black lace thong — goose bumps pebbled her skin, but soon Rhysands large, warm hands covered her breasts. He pulled her back into his chest and Feyre bit her lip at the contact — his hardened chest hot against her back. She could feel his muscles straining against her. His thick dick pressing into the round globes of her ass.

“Feyre Darling,” He said, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, and he moved his hips against hers. “I can put you up in a lovely little townhouse. Apartment. Penthouse. Whatever you want. I can give you the loveliest clothes and jewels. All of your needs will be met,” He grasped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged sharply. “All the orgasms you want.”

Hurt pricked at her heart and the next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“As your whore?”

Rhysand tensed as he processed her words — an arrow aimed straight for his heart, and a little worm of regret wiggled inside of her. Probably from the tequila.

“Of course not.”

“If you can give me all that, then why can’t we be together?” Feyre asked, looking over her shoulder at him to find his violet eyes burning brightly.

“We will be — one day. You need to trust me,” Rhys said in a harsh whisper as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh. “Fuck, I missed having you in my arms.”

“I missed your touch.” Feyre admitted in a whisper and reached to claim his lips.

As they kissed one of his hands reached down to clasp between her thighs. He groaned against her lips and he muttered, “I fucking knew you were wet for me. I remember your needy little pussy. How my tongue and fingers were just never enough — you craved my cock. And you would get into such a cute little frenzy, coming over and over on my tongue and still desperate for more. My insatiable little love.”

“I love the way you feel in me.” Feyre said, leaning her head back on his shoulder as he worked her over her lacy thong. His other hand teasing her pink nipple.

Rhys dipped his head to kiss her neck.

“The first time we were together you came from my cock alone. All you had to do was take my entire cock and you drenched the bed from your orgasm.”

A gush of liquid seeped out of her and onto his hand — Feyre could feel him smirking against her neck.

“And now all you need are my words to come. Feyre Darling, don’t tell me my voice alone does it for you.”

“Your voice only does it for yourself, darling.” Feyre replied mockingly, and she delighted in the little chuckle that pulled from his lips.

“To be determined, my love.”

Feyre was about to respond, but the tearing of fabric and the friction of her panties being pulled against her clit caused a small scream to sound from her lips.

“I’ll buy you a new pair,” Rhys grasped her earlobe between his teeth and tugged. “Made of silk.”

“Sounds impractical.”

“I like the sound of silk when it tears, darling.”

His fingers were hot as they slid through her wet folds, teasing her bud.

“I can’t wait to be inside of your sweet pussy,” Rhys said hotly into her ear. “But first I want you on your knees.”

He twisted and maneuvered her body until she was kneeling in front of him, dressed in only her strappy black heels.

She remembered that he had a thing for them. For a brief moment she was stunned by how much she remembered about him, but soon became enamored by his erection bobbing in front of her eyes.

She hated that her mouth watered just by looking at it.

It bobbed in front of her long and thick and she longed to have it between her thighs, filling her up as he took her at a brutal pace.

Feyre roughly grabbed the base of his cock and used her tongue to trace the vein that ran the length of him. All the way until she got to the weeping head and swirled her tongue, collecting all the liquid that beaded at his tip.

His fingers pulled at her hair, enough for Feyre to feel slight stings on her scalp.

Her pussy clenched in response.

She looked up at him with wide eyes as her mouth wrapped around his head, her cheeks already hollowing out.

His sharp features were ridden with lust, and his eyes were burning bright as he gazed down at her and Feyre felt so fucking desireable.

Their eyes locked as Feyre slowly took more of him, and Rhys gathered her hair into his hand like a ponytail.

“Your mouth is so pretty wrapped around me,” Rhysand said, slowly starting to move his hips. “Isn’t this a better use of your mouth, darling? Rather than saying all those filthy words?”

Feyre narrowed her eyes at him and scraped over his skin with her teeth, delighting in the way he shivered at the contact.

“That wasn’t very nice, Feyre Darling. I’m going to show you the proper use of your mouth.” His voice was heavy with lust and he snapped his hips into her face, her nose nudging his pelvis.

Drool pooled down her chin as she choked on his cock, which was moving furiously in and out of her mouth. His balls slapping against her chin

Feyre was so turned on and drenched that liquid coated the insides of her thighs, loving how Rhys was slowly losing control and that it was because of her. He was always so annoyingly in control of how he appeared to others — always in a mask, showing people the arrogant prick he pretended to be. Well, mostly pretended to be. She saw the depth of him when they were together and it completely captured her heart. He was still an arrogant prick, but there was more.

She moaned around his hot cock, slippery from her mouth, and he held her mouth to the base of his cock as he shot down her throat — Feyre swallowed most of it, some of it falling down her chin as he pulled out of her mouth.

A line of spit connecting her lips to the head of his dick.

Her tongue collecting the smear of semen on her lips. She used the back of her hand to wipe away the drool on her chin.

Feyre panted with her hands on her knees, staring up at Rhysand and wondering what it was about him that drove her wild with lust. The thought of doing what they just did with anyone else made her want to shrivel up.

“Stop thinking.” Rhys said, helping her to her feet. Her knees wobbly like jelly and his lips claimed hers, his tongue sweeping through her mouth.

Feyre moaned knowing he could taste himself.

When he pulled away Feyre said, “Tamlin makes me brush my teeth and rinse with Listerine before kissing me after—”

A hard slap cracked against her ass, and Feyre screamed in shock and pleasure. His hand roughly massaging her cheek to ease her stinging flesh.

“Don’t,” Rhys growled through clenched teeth. “Talk about him.”

“Jealous?” Feyre asked, wanting to provoke him.

“He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”

“And you do?”

“No,” Rhysand said, kissing her again. “But I’m fucking taking you anyway.”

He picked her up and tossed her on the bed — Feyre felt dizzy for a second before spreading her legs for him, her knees high as her heels dug into her quilt.

She didn’t care that he was seeing how soaking wet and ready she was for him. Didn’t care that it was probably stroking his ego in a way she would probably never hear the end of.

“Then fucking take me and make me forget about him.”

Rhys leaned over and placed one hand on the outside of her hip and he traced the fingers of his free hand over her exposed sex, playing with her and making a show of her wetness.

His lips turned up into a self-satisfied smirk as he plunged a long finger inside of her, and Feyre could feel herself desperately clenching at the contact. Wanting to tighten around something much bigger than his finger.

A strangled scream got caught in her throat as he curved his finger to hit the spot within her that only he knew about.

“They’re going to hear you, love.” Rhys said, preening at the fact that he was causing her restraint to slip.

“I can’t,” Feyre panted as he pulled out and slid two fingers inside of her, hitting her sensitive spot again. “Help it,” She tried to glare at him. “You know that.”

He always teased her about how vocal she was during sex, but the sounds went right to his cock and his ego. He loved her sounds, and he loved making her scream.

His smirk split his face as her hips ground against his hands, fruitlessly trying to take control of her own pleasure.

Rhys took pity on her and pressed his thumb into her swollen clit. His hand and her hips moving together as Feyre rode out her wave of pleasure.

As soon as she fell limp and sweaty against her bed Rhys slid up her body and aligned his hard cock against her dripping, glistening cunt. One arm propped next to her head and one hand gripping her plush thigh.

The round head of his cock slipped through the puffy lips of her pussy and nudged at her entrance.

Feyre watched as his teeth bit his lip as he slowly sunk into her, her hands came up to grip his tight ass, pushing him further into her stretching cunt.

“Yes.” Feyre said in a breathy moan, feeling deliciously full as his cock filled her to the hilt, her eyes falling shut.

She waited for him to move, to start thrusting in and out of her in the way that she liked, to lift her hips in the way that altered her universe.

He stayed still.

Feyre opened her eyes to see Rhysand gazing down at her.

“I want you to remember this Feyre,” He said in a dark, full voice. “How fucking perfectly I fit inside of you. Feel that no other man’s cock can have you squirming with need and satisfy you at the same time.”

He pulled out and pushed back in, tilting her hips in the way she desired.

“This is the only cock that belongs between your legs, Feyre Darling.”

One of her hands reached up and slid into his hair, gripping it tightly in a way that made him grin.

“Mine is the only pussy for you.” Feyre muttered as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts — urging him to go faster. Harder.

“Possessive, love?” Rhys smirked, quickening his pace as her hips bucked against his.

“Yes,” Feyre admitted, tightening her grip in his locks. She loved making a mess of his hair. “I hate thinking about you and her. Together.”

Rhys growled and adjusted his position, gaining more leverage on the bed and thrusting harder.

Feyre gasped at the movement and opened her legs wider.

He grabbed one of her legs and bent it to her chest before placing it over his shoulder. Her heel sticking up in the air.

She cried out as he hit deeper inside of her — his hips creating a delicious friction as they ground against hers. “I pretend she’s you,” Rhys whispered harshly into her ear. “It’s the only way I can do it.”

Feyre gasped and clenched around his cock as he drove into her.

Their flesh coming together sounded through her room, wet and sharp and frantic.

His sweat slicked chest leaned closer to hers, pulling her leg back further and causing him to go deeper.

“Harder.” Feyre gasped, overwhelmed with how tight and full she felt — her nails unintentionally digging into his skin which caused him to grunt, his hips faltered as he drilled into her harder.

“I’m gonna come.” Rhys grunted, his hips pumping faster. He looked at her with a question in his eyes and Feyre said, “Come inside of me. I want to feel you,” Feyre brought his head down so that their foreheads were touching and stared him in the eyes as she tightly, intentionally clenched around him. “I need to feel you.”

Feyre turned her head so that her lips were on his neck. Her teeth right next to his pulse as she bit down.

Rhys shuddered as he pushed forward again, the walls of her pussy clenching his cock as he came deep inside of her — shallowly rocking against her. He brought his hand between their hips and pressed his thumb against her aching clit, so that both of them were coming at the same time.

He pulled back, and fell onto the bed next to her, breathless.

Their sweaty bodies pressed against each other, and their heavy, humid pants were loud in the air

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys said, and Feyre turned her head to find him already gazing at her. “I hope you didn’t think that was it for tonight.”

— —

They didn’t sleep.

Rhysand took her two more times before the early morning sun started to stream through her windows — and it wasn’t until Rhysand pushed off the bed that Feyre realized she was drifting off.

“You’re leaving.” Feyre said, her eyes gliding along the length of his bronze body. Tucking away the mental image so she wouldn’t forget — She took note of every mark she left on him. The claw marks down his back. The half-moon indents on his ass cheeks. The purple love bite on his throat.

“Believe me,” Rhys said, walking over to her desk and picking up his pants from the night before. “I would rather stay in bed with you all day.”

“You can.” Feyre blurted out as she sat up, clutching her quilt and sheets to her chest. Suddenly feeling shy.

Rhys turned to face her fully, his cock shamelessly on full display. His abs well defined and tight and Feyre found herself wanting to lick them.

She quickly looked away and accidentally caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and cringed.

Rats nest. She could hear her mothers voice in her ear venomously whispering about her hair, tangled and messy from the friction of her pillow. Her full smoky makeup smeared black around her eyes, and lipstick stained on her lips and chin.

She cursed herself for letting Mor do her makeup.

“You look beautiful, Feyre Darling.” Rhysand said as he stepped into his pants.

“I look—”

“Well and truly fucked,” Rhys smirked as he shrugged into his shirt. “By me.”

Feyre fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Her nails nervously picking at a stitch on her quilt.

“What happens now?” Feyre asked, gazing at him and tucking her chin onto her bent knees.

He stared at her for a moment, tucking his shirt into his pants before finding his belt.

He looked absurdly good on no sleep — his black hair deliciously tousled, and a heady warmth spread through her knowing she was the one who tousled his hair. And his skin perfectly tan and even, not even purple smudges under his eyes.

Rhys looked like a fucking cologne ad.

Feyre could see him on the page of a magazine modeling for some overpriced scent that smelled like sex and citrus. He did always smell good. But he didn’t need the money.

He took a step closer to her after putting his shoes on, and as he approached her he lifted her face to look up at him. His fingers touching her chin delicately.

“What happens now is that you trust me, Feyre Darling. Even though you shouldn’t.”

Rhys brought their mouths together and Feyre felt a bit of her anxiety melt away.

“When will I see you again?” She asked.

“You still have my number?” Rhys asked and Feyre nodded in confirmation. “I’ll call you, but there is something I need you to know, love,” Rhys laid his forehead against hers, and Feyre felt her heart stop and tumble into her stomach at the intensity of his gaze. “I’ll be thinking about you the entire time we are apart.”

——

Tagging: @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @alwayssara @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes @magnolia-blossom87 @sheena-beene @nivem565 @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99 @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul

#feysand #feysand month #feysandmonth22 #feysand month 2022 #feysand fic #feysand fanfiction #feyre archeron #rhysand #fawnandshadows writing #fawnandshadows fanfic #I listened to you’re so vain 48 hours straight as I wrote this😀#which isn’t a bad thing #I love feysand so much #I want to write more of them 🥹#this was my first time writing feysand so please be nice 🫶🏻#feysand month 22 #feyre x rhysand #Feyre x rhys

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