Could you please write a fic where Rhys gets up in the middle of the night because he scents a horny sleeping Feyre. Then he wakes her up by doing kinky shit to her 😍😅
I just want everyone to know that I will probably NEVER answer one of these prompts again. I have too many other legit stories I want to tell. So this is gonna be short and sweet and smutty. This is NSFW and, as I have no fear of words, I use language that MANY people find offensive. This was NOT written with personalities or what’s canon in mind. So it does not reflect how I see or understand these characters. You’ve been warned!
[A Midnight Feast]
It was the smell that woke me. Something sweet and haunting, and so thick in the air that I could have choked on it. It called to something so ancient in my blood that I damn near woke in a frenzy.
My self indulgent and fun take on the rumoured smut that SJM wrote about Rowaelin.
~3000
CW: NSFW
AN: Finally, we get to figure out what Rowan did 👀
______
It was barely 7 o’clock in the morning and already Rowan had fucked up his life. He’d hardly processed exactly what had happened before Enda had shoved a bow in his face and dragged him into the Oakwald to go hunting.
Rowan could have murdered his cousin for what he’d done. It was fortunate that they were surrounded by enough witnesses that he couldn’t feasibly get away with it. Though Rowan entertained himself for much of the journey with fantasies of a stray arrow finding its way into Enda’s throat. It was a good distraction from the other throat Rowan wouldn’t mind shooting.
Pairing: Feysand
Rating: M
Warning: Tamlin and all he entails
Notes: Thanks for the prompt! I'm honestly deeply, deeply intrigued at the thought of what might have happened with Feyre and Rhys if he had been a split-second too late on the day of the wedding, so here's a little ficlet about that.
Rhys's shoulder was trembling beneath her head.
His cool silk sheets were pooled around their waists, their legs tangled beneath them. Feyre was tracing the thick, curling lines inked across his collarbone, trying not to notice the way his breathing hitched or the moisture that dripped into her hair when he bent his head to press a kiss to the top of hers.
In the hallway, the grandfather clock began to chime.
"He'll be wondering where I am," she murmured, but she laid her tattooed hand flat against Rhys's chest. His heart beat steadily beneath it as she admired the way her tattoo melted into the lines of his.
Her hand disappeared, but the heavy emerald ring on her finger stood out starkly against her pale skin and the dark ink of their tattoos. Some magic—Tamlin's, Ianthe's, the Mother's, Feyre didn't know—had all but welded it to her finger once she had choked out her vows that awful day.
A multi-chaptered story containing the slowest of burns, tons of angst and pining, an atrocious amount of swearing, and a friends to lovers story. More notably, the story also contains: explicit sex scenes, drug and alcohol use, substance abuse, depictions of depression and anxiety, and relationships with abusive undertones.
Okay let's for one second pretend that Sarah confirmed Gwyn is a lightsinger even though she didn't.
So now Gwyneth Berdara is a lightsinger which are the creatures from bog who are supposedly bad. She can lure people with her singing powers even though it's never mentioned lightsingers sings or glows. My question is how would that tie to elriel plot?
If the answer is Gwyn is luring Azriel intentionally or unintentionally that's not going to happen (why the hell would she lure Azriel out of all people? There are plenty of other more suitable candidates). There is one thing that Sarah said in the interview, how the found family is important and acosf is a deeply personal book. Do one really think she will make someone good as that evil? (She cried rereading the Valkyrie scenes) She's definitely not gonna make Gwyn evil so we can throw that out of the window. Then what? How would Gwyn being a lightsinger would work in an elriel plot?
The lightsinger plot would not be something small. You would have to show how that would affect the Valkyries, IC, everyone and how they would respond to it. You would have to show how Gwyn comes into the terms of it (her pov). It would take up more attention and space in the book. If we go by the theory that next is elriel, this revelation would eat up atleast a quarter of the book. So the first half of elriel book is gonna be Elain and Azriel staring at each other then suddenly the attention turns towards the redhead character and how she's someone from bog. I don't think any of the people who are screaming Gwyn is a lightsinger wants that too happen. From my observation these people never say anything about how it would affect the whole dynamic of Valkyries or IC or how it would develop Gwyn as a character. It's clear most you only promote this theory so you could get Gwyn out of the way of your ship.
Despite her declaration, a bit of an awkward silence fell over the room as they stared at each other, neither of them making a move to do anything. But eventually, she opened her mouth again, her hands wrapped in the fabric of Rowan’s t-shirt as she started spilling everything on her tired mind.
Or really- one thing.
“Were you telling the truth?” She asked weakly, her voice a tired croak. She just… needed to know. “Or was it an excuse?”
Rowan leaned forward, as if he wanted to reach for her but didn’t. “I’m sorry, Aelin,” he breathed, and her heart froze for a second, before he continued. “It was my fault, it was my mistake.”
an: I am immensely proud of this, and I have put so much work into this one, I really hope you all like it; it was born out of my obsession with the archer but has turned into something of its own; I'm a bit nervous sharing it, but I'm happy with how it turned out, so I hope you all enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it
CW: cursing, angst, depictions of an eating disorder, mentions of sexual assault, very brief depiction of attempted sexual assault, NSFW
Aelin woke up that morning to the sound of classical piano blaring in her ears. It was the opening chords of the Stygian Suite, which meant she was just on time as she sat up, lifting up her eye mask and turning to switch off the alarm.
With a graceful yawn, she pulled back her silk sheets, standing out of bed to stretch as the first reaches of sunlight seeped in through the light blue curtains.
5:30 am, bright and early. It was the time she woke up every day, just to get a jump start before her schedule caught up with her.
Efficiently, she made her bed, tucking the fluffy white comforter nicely underneath her pillows before heading into the bathroom. In there, her face highlighted by the lights around the large mirror, she combed and clipped her hair up, with a towel headband to keep any stray pieces back. Turning on the faucet to let the water warm up, Aelin went and grabbed her silk robe, sliding it on over her silk pajamas, the luxurious fabric caressing her skin.
A very ✨HAPPY BIRTHDAY✨ goes out to @offtorivendell and @nikethestatue! Having your birthday’s a few day’s apart, I’ve officially dedicated this fluffy update to you. You both have been such a joy to interact and become friends with. Thank you for being a huge part of the Elriel fandom 🌸🦇, and just two amazing people in general. I truly hope you enjoy your special day! 💙💜💚
Self-loathing and guilt burned at the edges of the dark hole in Lorcan’s chest, the hole that had grown with every passing day that Elide ignored him, as she walked past him silently after another meager dinner of stale bread and cheese.
He played her words on the beach over and over in his head. Knew them to be true. Each time they echoed in his mind, the hole seared and grew larger.
Later in the night, after his first watch was relieved by Gavriel, Lorcan threw himself down on his bedroll, determined to find oblivion from his own personal hell, even for just a few hours.
It seemed like he had barely shut his eyes and found sleep when a sound woke him. And a scent near him. Elide.
When he had walked back to his bedroll earlier, he’d tossed a glance at her, fast asleep on the other side of their little camp. His usual habit. The only time he could look at her without risking an irritated sigh or the way she’d turn her head away from him, as if he wasn’t even worth her sight, let alone her time.
Now her scent inundated his senses. The familiar cinnamon and elderberry was soaked in fear. He jerked up on one elbow to look at her where she kneeled beside his bedroll.
Her eyes were oddly half-lidded, her lips slack. Lorcan’s brow furrowed.
Disclaimer: this post contains major spoilers from House of Sky and Breath
This was so much fun to make, it'll make everyone's lives easier including myself haha so happy reading everyone! I tried my best to include accurate info🤍
Percy calling Annabeth "love" by accident or it slipped out or something and then finding out she really loves it and it becoming a thing and in a few months they're so used to it it's a part of their lived
in which Percy and Annabeth haven’t been dating all that long, and he accidentally calls her love,, percabeth,,
Percy quickly learns that there’s a million different things he loves about dating Annabeth.
From the first time they kissed, he fell in love with the feeling of her lips on his. It didn’t take long for him to fall in love with the feeling of her skin against his, or the way she slips perfectly into his arms with every hug.
Even at sixteen, he knows that this is the girl that he’s going to marry someday.
Still, they’ve decided to take things slowly, and he loves that just as much. There’s something he loves so much about their ephemeral touches as they pass by the pavilion or the excitement when they do decide to take things further, letting those fleeting kisses turn into something more heated and passionate.
Slow. It’s not the worst thing in the world, he thinks.
He especially likes slow in moments like these when Annabeth is in his cabin past dark, just lying in his lap while he twirls strands of her curls between his fingers. It’s peaceful and familiar, and it’s just as he likes it to be.
He’s sure that she’s fallen asleep by now with the way her breathing is even and her eyes closed so he can inspect every detail of her face, but she shifts slightly, and he smiles.
“Hey,” he says softly, brushing a finger against cheek. “You’re still awake?”
Annabeth smiles and stretches languidly, and Percy desperately wants to kiss her with how cute and sleepy she looks right now. She yawns, and Percy audibly coos.
“You’re tired,” he notes. “You can go to sleep.”
“And miss the only time alone that we ever get? No way.”
Percy grins. “You’re missing it anyways laying here half-asleep.”
“You’re comfortable to lay on.”
“Am I?”
“Mhm. You’re like a cuddly teddy bear. My personal pillow.” Even as she speaks, her eyes begin to flutter shut.
Percy just keeps playing with her hair in silence for a bit before he speaks. “I must be a good pillow if you’re falling asleep that fast.”
Annabeth’s eyes open and she looks at him playfully. “Shut up.”
“I’m not complaining,” he reassures her, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s cute. I like you when you’re not trying to kick my ass at capture the flag.”
“What do you mean trying? I play to win.”
Percy leans down slightly so he can kiss her. “If there’s anyone I’d want to lose to, it’s you.”
“Please sir,” she says, her voice just a touch higher than usual, looking up at him with wide, gray eyes. “I know not what my family did to offend you, but I beg of you to release me.”
“Release you? Now why would I let a pretty little thing like yourself go?” Percy says, grinning. He crosses the room to stand at the foot of the bed, towering over her. He pushes her chin up with two fingers, not altogether carefully.
“My father will pay you,” Annabeth says, “whatever ransom you desire, it will be yours.”
Percy laughs. He knows it's part of the game, but the suggestion is still ludicrous.
“And what use have I for your father’s gold? It seems I’ve found myself with something infinitely more valuable.”
***
What do you get the man who has everything for his birthday? Annabeth thinks she has an idea.
AN: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. This is the best present I could think of giving you. Don’t say I never gave you anything. NSFW. 8k words. If that doesn’t express my love for this strange community of ours, then I don’t think anything can. xoxo.
Aelin was an absolute moron. She didn’t know why she thought she could easily make it through a week, not when every touch was already so charged that it practically sent her into heat.
As she thought it, a rush of desire swept through her. She needed him closer. So much closer. She tightened her legs around his waist and relished in the feeling of him against her, tilting her head to accommodate his onslaught of kisses.
A loud catcall coming from behind them wasn’t enough to pull her away from her spot on the hood of the jeep, Rowan dangerously situated between her legs. She simply let her hand fall from Rowan’s hair and raised her middle finger in the direction of the unwanted noise.
“GET A ROOM!” Dorian shouted, causing Rowan to glare at their raven-haired friend over his shoulder.
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