Lavendaise



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  1. Public Bookmark 46

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    The text arrived three weeks later:

    I set up a room for next Friday. Maybe we can meet early for drinks at the hotel bar? xx

    Why the fuck did he want to get drinks? Their setup was perfect- casual, anonymous sex. They both gave fake names, Feyre wore a blindfold: it was no-strings-attached BDSM with another person that valued their privacy. So why does he want to meet up now?

    She never responded and he didn’t ask again. Thankfully, the universe has other plans.

    Written for Feysand Week: day 7!

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    30 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 27

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    "You want to stay here?" Feyre breathed. Rhys's touches were intoxicating, slow and indulgent on her body. His hands moved over her like he'd never felt her before, fixated on every curve and plane.

    "Who's going to stop us?" he asked.

    Feyre choked on a gasp as his hands slipped under her skirt, callouses scraping her bare thighs.

    Language:
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    19 Mar 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 24

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    Fresh out of recovery and desperate for a new start, Feyre Archeron stumbles into a law firm run by the dangerously magnetic Rhysand Night. What begins as a job quickly spirals into something darker—an intoxicating push and pull of power, desire, and ruin.

    “Feyre Archeron,” he read aloud, eyes flicking back up to hers.
    “Yes,” she murmured, shy, aware of how green she was—no jobs, no experience, nothing but this fragile chance. His gaze didn’t waver, and it left her shifting where she stood, uncomfortable under the weight of it.
    Without another word, Rhysand picked up the phone, dialing as he continued to watch her.
    “Can you get me a coffee? Black, two sugars,” he said once the line clicked alive.
    Feyre blinked. “Where… do I do that?”
    He didn’t answer. His attention had already shifted to the voice on the other end of the line, leaving her dismissed, standing there with her damp papers and pounding heart.

    Language:
    English
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    19 Mar 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 6

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    “Hey, Rhys.” Everything stops, the world caught on the groove as his life changes. He can hear Feyre's smile, her nervousness. It had been so long since he had heard her say his name. He wants her to do it again; he wants her to never stop saying it. It could be the last thing he ever heard and he would die a happy man.

    His voice comes out so thick with grief that he barely recognizes it as his. “I thought I had lost you forever.”

    “That’s a silly thought,” she says, like it's so simple. Like it's normal, being separated for so long. Like his fears were unfounded. “I’m right here."

    The dream ends, but wrapped up in his blessed, overwhelming relief, he doesn’t recognize it. Finally, finally the world makes sense again.

     

    Feyre isn't dead. Rhys grieves like she is.

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    18 Mar 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 20

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    Before Mor left for her study abroad program, she had gripped Feyre by the arms, stared into her soul and said: “While I’m gone, if you need anything- and I do mean anything- promise you’ll call my cousin. I can’t go without knowing you’re taken care of.”

    She had agreed- Mor never asked anything of her, and Feyre would do anything to ease her mind. The problem was that she couldn’t be normal around her cousin.

    Mor’s cousin, Rhysand, was life-ruiningly hot. The kind of hot that should be illegal, especially for girls like her. He was also older than her: more than twice her age, with laugh lines and silver hair and reading glasses and creaky knees- and that did things for Feyre. He was also unfailingly kind to her. Altogether a deadly combination for a fatherless, unloved 19 year old.

    Language:
    English
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    Comments:
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    18 Mar 2026