#alpha! rhysand x omega! feyre

[velarisbynight]

Call Me By My Name

Rhysand x Feyre

For day 4 of @acotar-omegaverse-week — Getting Knotty: …you really didn’t think we’d have omegaverse week without a whole day for knots, did you :)

a/n: I was wary about writing for these two but I actually enjoyed their dynamic lot! Will definitely try to write more for them!

warnings: sexuality; smut; knots; overstimulation; oral (Feyre receiving) 

word count: 1.9k~

~~~~~~~~

“You’re insatiable,” Feyre huffs as her mate noses up the length of her throat, broad palms that have been long-since flecked with discoloured skin from scars and rubbed rough from callouses sliding from her waist, to her hips, to her legs. Fingers trail up the tops of her thighs, a shiver of pleasure zipping up Feyre’s spine when his thumbs hook around the narrow, black lace at her hips. 

“And you’re incredibly provocative,” Rhysand whispers, hot lips graze the shell of her ear, sharp canines nipping at the point before trailing down to lazily tug on the lobe. “You’re incredibly provokable,” Feyre counters, biting on her lower lip, tilting her hips so the curve of her ass is rubbing against the seam of his trousers. 

A hot, strained chuckle rumbles through her back and it doesn’t take much to imagine the wicked smirk on the High Lord’s mouth. How his pupils might be expanding, swallowing that beautiful ring of starlit violet. “I’m incredibly provokable?” The pads of his fingers graze across her abdomen, ticklishly raising a prickle of goosebumps in their wake. His mouth lowers to her jaw, pushing small, soft kisses to a spot he knows makes her weak. “I so much as look at you differently and you’re hauling me away into a spare room.” 

“Mhmm. Like I did just now, High Lord?” 

Rhysand’s groan morphs into a chuckle, silky blue-black hair brushing Feyre’s collar bones as he lays his brow to her shoulder, a smile on his mouth, “That, was an exception.” 

“I’m pretty sure you were the one doing the hauling there, or was that all my imagination?” 

“Was I supposed to leave you be after you lifted your top?” Rhysand drawls, his hand dipping further between her thighs, not yet slipping beneath her underwear but cupping her clothed sex, fingers poised to prod and push. “What sort of alpha would that make me if I left my darling omega unattended?” 

“Uh-huh, that’s the reason why you hauled me in here.” 

The High Lord pulls away, standing to his full height and turning his mate by her hips so they’re chest to chest. “Should I stop?” He whispers, a glint in his dark eyes. 

“Could you stop?” Feyre counters breathily, fingers raising to tip the black, lacy strap over the curve of her shoulder. The first one falls, and the second follows after. Violet eyes track each movement, his tongue wetting his lips, “I could do anything if you asked it of me.” 

“So charming, High Lord.” 

“So wicked, High Lady.” 

Feyre tilts her head upward, light brown hair tickling further down her spine and Rhys lowers his mouth to meet her, lips pressing together. A mixture of a moan and a hum warms the High Lord’s mouth as Feyre’s hands greedily rise over his chest, her fingertips teasingly tracing up the notch lapels of his finery before tangling in his raven locks of hair. Broad palms return to her hips and Feyre moves with him as he walks her back to their bed, the backs of her thighs brushing the rouge and gold jacquard patterned sheets. 

Rhysand is the first to pull away, his hold tightening around Feyre’s waist as he keeps his mouth within kissing distance. “I’m hungry, High Lady.” 

“You’re always hungry, High Lord.” 

“Call me by my name,” he whispers, breath tickling her mouth as shivers of tingling pleasure skitter through her abdomen. “Only if you call me by mine.” 

A low, strained chuckle drags from the back of his throat and the next thing Feyre knows is she’s being hoisted from the floor and carefully set back in the bed, the rouge and gold rayon fabric teasingly scraping against exposed skin. Her hair scatters across the sheets, framing her perfect features as cool, watercolour-blue eyes gaze up at her High Lord. Her alpha. Her mate. 

“Come here, Rhys.” The male in question doesn’t attempt to hide the effect her husky voice has on him, nor does he show even the slightest amount of embarrassment as his tongue flicks out over his lips and he palms himself through his trousers. “Shall I be on top of you, tonight?” He questions in a silky drawl, removing the clothing from his upper body seamlessly, a few swift movements and skilfully tailored fabric is discarded, “Or would you prefer to take the lead?” 

“And make your mate do all the work?” Feyre questions as she parts her thighs, legs curving at the knee to make room for him as he prowls forward. A wicked smirk appears on his soft mouth, “You love it.” 

“Then I’ll leave the choice up to you, since apparently I was the one who got you in to this state. Does that sound fair?” 

“You’ll let me decide what I do to you, Feyre?” 

Heat flutters between her legs, arousal infusing into the air, dampening the black lace covering her sex. “I’ll let you decide what you do to me,” she breathes, curving one leg around his hip, glancing with interest down to his mouth, “Rhys.” The High Lord releases a sound between a groan and a laugh, then he’s allowing the rough pads of his fingers to settle over her diaphragm, slowly, tenderly, coasting their way up her sternum, gliding between her breasts until they’re pausing over a fluttering pulse. 

“I’ll take my time then, shall I?” 

~~~~

Feyre’s spine arches from the mattress as the orgasm barrels through her sensitive body, those deft, cruelly skilled fingers continuing to curl and rub against that spot while his tongue flickers over her clit. 

His name has been repeating in her mouth for what must have been hours—there’s no way he could make her feel this good in anything less than that, even knowing how talented that silver-tipped tongue of his is. The flimsy black lace that had been covering her breasts has long-since been pushed away, though she’s still clasped within its confines. Just like with her underwear. Rhys had simply pushed it to the side, keeping her under that self-imposed containment she wishes he would simply tear right off. She wouldn’t even be mad if he did. 

What she is mad about, is the leisurely curl of his fingers, the idle strokes of his tongue as it caresses the tip of her puffy, aching clit. “Rhys…” She whines, hands gripping the sheets, the covers long-since tossed to the side. Violet eyes flick up from between her thighs and she tightens around his fingers as he emerges from where he had been applying himself, a silvery strand of arousal connecting from his lower lip to her cunt. “Hmm? I thought you wanted a break?” 

Feyre shoots him a glare before melting back into the bed. “You want the same thing I do,” she huffs, shifting her hips but it only causes his fingers to again push against that spot. “I do?” Rhys muses, lowering his head just enough to deliver a teasing lap to her clit. “And what is that?” Blue-grey eyes darken with hunger, turning the colour of stormy coastal skies. A dusky red colours her cheeks, the pink of her lips looking fuller than usual from teethmarks, “you know what.” 

“I want you to ask for it,” Rhys breathes, muscles flexing in his powerful shoulders as he lifts on to his arms, prowling up Feyre’s body until his lips are grazing the valley of her breasts. “Ask me to give it to you.” 

Feyre snorts. “You have a giving kink.” 

Fingers pluck at one of her nipples and she gasps. “Aren’t you lucky to have such a generous alpha as your mate?” 

“So generous,” Feyre fixes, a glint in her eyes as her fingers dance over the muscles in his broad shoulders. She lifts her smiling face from the pillows, just so their lips are brushing, “and so arrogant.” 

“It’s well-earned,” he protests, but Feyre doesn’t seem to bother with his reply, wrapping her legs around his hips. “I want your knot, Rhys.” 

The High Lord groans, shifting so each movement, every breath adds to the delicious pressure between them. “Ask me again.”

The High Lady rolls her eyes, a playful smirk on her lips, but adheres. “I want your knot. Will you give it to me?” 

“How could I ever refuse?” He murmurs causing Feyre to laugh, her blueish eyes twinkling as he presses one more kiss to her mouth. “Since you asked so nicely.” Another kiss. “I’m willing to indulge.” 

“How generous you are.” 

Rhys chuckles before righting himself, fingers skimming down the underside of Feyre’s thighs then looping beneath the black lace, “Lift up for me, Feyre.” The High Lady complies, happy to finally be shimmying free of the sopping underwear, legs parting to bear herself to her alpha. Rhys can’t help himself, running his middle and forth finger up through her centre, parting her until he reaches the tip of her swollen clit. How tempting it is to take her in his mouth again. But instead he wraps himself in his hand, guiding the tip to her entrance. 

Maybe he rubs his cock against her sex a few more times than he needs, just to work her up a bit more, bumping into her clit while precum leaks down his head. 

Feyre’s rosey lips part on a throaty moan as he pushes in, so easy for him to slide home by the amount of slick wetting her thighs and soaking the sheets below. “Greedy thing,” Rhys comments lowly when her legs squeeze his hips, making sure he’s flush with her cunt, “this is the fourth time this night you’re taking it.” 

“I’m not greedy.” Feyre tilts her hips, pushing the head of his cock to rub upward against her walls. “Is it greedy to want to have my mate inside of me?” 

Rhys drops a kiss to her lips, “not compared to your usual hunger.” 

“Your usual hunger.” 

“No? You don’t ever find yourself hungry for me, Feyre?”

Feyre huffs a laugh, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe sometimes.” 

“Only sometimes?” 

“Frequently.” 

Rhys smirks, drawing back his hips then pushing straight back in as if he can’t bear to be away from his omega for more than a second. Feyre’s moans grow incrementally in volume as the pace increases, already beginning to feel the skin at the base of him flaring, a sure sign he’s as hungry for her as she is for him. And with how much pleasure has already been raised to their surfaces it doesn’t take long for things to click into place. 

Legs wrap tight around the High Lord’s waist as they lock together, pleasure thrumming like something physical between them, smothering the air and turning their visions hazy. His knot presses against her inner walls, triggering pulses of pure ecstasy to sweep through both of them as the high is reached, a peak shared through the bond that joins them. 

Feyre’s back arcs, and Rhys allows his lips to press to the pulse point in her throat, feeling that heavy stutter beneath his mouth, taking a deep inhale of the scent that’s practically rolling from his divine mate in waves.

Gods, he doesn’t want her to ever come off his knot. 

What heaven it would be to have his darling Feyre wrapped around him, laying with him, holding him for as long as they could last. 

[potatoplace]

You Can Have It - Chapter 4

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 3 | chapter 5 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, nothing else I don't think

Words: ~7.4k

Author's Note: it's heeeereeeeeee aaaahhhhhhh RHYS AND FEYRE YESSS I hope you guys all like this chapter! And I can't wait for more cutesy lil interactions with them, all to start come the next update ☺️

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The past month and a half had passed so swiftly, you could hardly believe it. Your days were filled with overseeing a few details of construction, and picking out every last piece of furniture that would be in your bakery, apartment, and garden. You and Mor went on lunch dates every Thursday, and most your other lunches were spent with Rella and sometimes Arana after shopping, or with Marcus between stints of supervising the construction.

Your dinners you spent alone most of the time, dedicating yourself to cooking every last recipe in your Night Court Favorites cookbook, enjoying your love for cooking as well.

The time you spent in your hotel room was either passed by reading the Healer of Time series that Gina had recommended to you, or creating your menu pamphlet for when you are finally prepped and ready to open your bakery.

It was completed already, and sent off to the printers for a custom metal press to be made. You had decorated it with a drawing of your bakery on the front, and the name Sparaiya Bakery. The rest of the pages were filled with drawings of your pastries, with the ingredients and, in some cases, added benefits next to them.

Construction had gone by quickly, and you could hardly believe it when finally, your large custom pink marble tub was flown onto the second floor of your bakery by three very strong Illyrians. It was a foot wider than your wingspan, and deep enough that you could float in it, and it also had pretty good veining done on it at your request. It was by far the most expensive piece of furniture on your second floor, coming in at 1,175 gold marks. But you didn’t care, you wanted your dream tub.

The most expensive thing in your bakery by far were your ovens, each one coming in at 2,000 gold marks with a lifetime warranty, and in a soft, pale blue. You have ten stoves in total, seven of them were against the wall separating the kitchen from the front room, taking up the expanse of it. Each are on an elevated platform so that you could see inside of them without needing to bend over. The other three were against the back wall of the building, slightly smaller oven sizes but with a stovetop on each of them, so that you were able to make the filling that some of your pastries require.

The kitchen was completely done at this point, as was the front room of the bakery. Your kitchen was decorated with the pale blue stoves as well as matching cabinetry with silver handles, and white marble countertops with silver veining. The wide window you had took up half of the wall in the center of it, allowing for more cabinets, as you would likely need them for all of your bakeware and ingredients.

The kitchen was exactly how you’d imagined it when you had envisioned it a month ago, as was the front room.

You had the cedar logs of bakery and it’s furniture stained slightly darker, wanting it to have the cozy feeling of a darkened cabin in winter. The log chairs and benches all had different shades of pastel cushions attached to the seats, and the backs of the chairs. The tables were beautiful as well, the carpenter, a kind beta named Oren, had done a fantastic job on all of the wooden furniture you had.

And the display cases Arana had made for you were lovely, two on each side of the wooden counter Oren had also made for you. Arana had made them of matching wood, with a glass dome on one side, and sliding glass doors on the back facing where you would be standing. The shelves were also made of glass, and you’d had Rella enchant them to be unbreakable, just in case.

There was also a counter running along the back wall of the front room, matching the counters in your kitchen, as well as having the same cabinets below.

Your fireplace- it was exactly what you had wanted, made of different shades of grey stone, and positioned on the left wall, even with the midpoint of the dining area.

Your front door had yet to arrive, but the artist working on it was bringing it by in the next week.

The upstairs was nearly finished as well, your bathroom, personal kitchen and bedroom were all fully decorated. Your bathroom and kitchen were both done in a soft, baby pink color, matching the marble of your tub perfectly. You had a small round dining table, perfect for four, made by Oren in the same stained wood as everything else. In front of your fireplace on the right hand wall, you had a matching couch placed parallel to it, and two chairs placed of to the sides and slightly in front of it, with end tables on either side of the couch.

And your bedroom was absolutely perfect, your nest filled with blues of nearly every shade, with white and silk thrown in every now and then. So many pillows, you have so many pillows. Back in Winter, you had been so focused on your grandmother that you hadn’t even truly settled back in, and your nest was one of the things you had consistently neglected.

But not anymore. From now on, you would honor your omega’s wishes, perhaps even find an alpha who would treat you right in the next few years.

You had a few bookshelves lining a wall of your room as well, and you were determined to fill them all in the next three years with books you’ve read while living in Velaris.

Everything about your apartment upstairs was perfect, you couldn’t have been happier with any other turn out.

And truly, the main thing left for you to do before you could declare your bakery’s construction complete is your garden. The enchantments are complete, including ones to keep the planters waterproof to avoid any possible leakage, as well as keeping the air crisp and humid for your soon-to-be plant babies. You have yet to fill the planters already in place with dirt, or pick up the plants from Winter though.

But that was your main goal for the next week.

You had finally moved in the night before, after Marcus had given you the all clear. Your bill with him came out to be 120,000 gold marks, and every single one of them was well spent, as you had your perfect bakery and perfect apartment.

You had woken up this morning and made tea for yourself in your kitchen, and stared out at the lovely view you had from your massive window. There were a few younger fae out already, skating along the Sidra. It had yet to unfreeze, the temperatures had stayed low ever since you had arrived in town.

You almost felt like winter was holding on a bit tighter, just for you.

You finished your tea and breakfast around nine, then got ready for the day, dressing in one of your new winter dresses, this one in a soft pink, with delicate silver flowers embroidered along the hems of your sleeves. You threw on a white scarf, hat, and mitten set, then made your way down the stairs, and out the of what will soon be your front doors.

You were planning to find a florist this morning, as well as find a garden supply store so that you would be able to visit Viviane later in the week.

Rella had told you of a nice florist who was on the south side of the Sidra, just west of the Palace of Thread and Jewels, so you were making your way there.

The streets were rather slick this morning, so you took your time in getting to the florist’s shop, as Mor had said, there was nothing quite like eating shit before a meeting or going somewhere- which you’d had more than your fair share of in the past month and a half, running around town so often.

Finally you reached the shop, painted a sage green on the outside, and there was a garden along the side of it that you could see wrapped around to the back as well.

You walked inside, making sure to stomp the snow from your boots before you entered. At the counter was a beautiful high fae, with lovely light golden brown hair in a messy bun atop her head, a few strands escaping it and framing her gorgeous face.

“Hello,” you said with a wave as you made your way to the counter. “My name is Y/N, Rella told me that you’re a florist?” You asked hesitantly.

“Rella sent you? That was so sweet of her, make sure to tell her thank you for me, Y/N! My name is Elain, it’s lovely to meet you.” She stuck out her hand, and you got a lovely breeze of her scent, jasmine and honey- another omega. You took her hand, surprised at the grip that the delicate looking fae had. “Did you need a florist for something?”

You nodded your head, answering “Yes, I’m opening a bakery in the next couple of weeks, and I was hoping you would be able to supply seasonal flowers every week.”

“Yes, I should be able to do that. Do you have a color scheme in mind at all, or just the seasonal aspect?”

“Jus the seasonal flowers, any color combination will be lovely, I’m sure.”

Elain smiles at you, her soft chocolate eyes crinkling at the edges slightly. “Very well, Y/N. Do you know how many bouquets you’d like weekly, and a price range?”

“I suppose I’d need…” you thought on how many tables you had inside of your bakery, as well at the mantle of the fireplace. “A dozen bouquets every week, I believe. And price wise… I’m not really sure, do you have a set type of plan?” You asked, feeling unsure.

“Yes, for a dozen bouquets my base price would be around 25 gold marks a week, and for slightly larger bouquets or more rare types of flowers, it could get up to double that.”

You thought about it for a moment. “I think that I’ll let you choose whichever flowers look best together, but I don’t need very large bouquets.”

Elain pulled a contract from beneath her counter, along with a quill and pot of ink. She wrote in the details of your request, then slid the paper over to you.

You read it over, then signed it and slid the page back to Elain. You handed your bank card to her, and she pressed it to her ledger before passing it back to you. “Alright, you’re all set up to start your deliveries, when you know the exact date just come back and let me know, okay?”

You nodded your head, then finally looked around the rest of her shop. There were large bags filled with dirt, gardening tools, large displays of seeds, and even a few types of planters on display. “Oh, you sell gardening supplies too? That’s perfect!” You said, happy to have likely found everything you needed to complete your garden.

“Yes, we even have carts that you can borrow or purchase to take everything home,” Elain said, already moving from behind the counter. “Are you starting a garden, as well?” She asked.

“Yes, just a small one for a few plants and herbs I need for my baked goods,” you replied, already moving to look at the types of dirt she had on offer.

Perfect. Elain already carried dirt from the Winter Court, exactly what you needed for your plants.

“I’ll take- oh, I think ten bags of the Winter dirt, please,” you said, hoping that it would be enough to fill up your planters. “And I’ll purchase a cart as well, that will probably be handy for just about all of my shopping for the bakery,” you said with a chuckle. Elain brought a cart over, and the two of you loaded ten large bags of dirt into it.

You also grabbed a few different sizes of hand shovels and a couple of watering cans, putting them into your cart.

“Is that everything you’re needing today?” Elain asked as you approached the counter once more.

“Yes, Elain.” You handed your bank card over, and tucked it back into the collar of your dress once she gave it back. “Thank you so much, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” you said, moving to push your cart through the front door.

“Did you need any help with your garden at all?” Elain asked before you left.

“Not at the moment, I just need to fill my planters with dirt today. But in the next week I’ll be transplanting some things from the Winter Court,” you replied, and her brown eyes lit up.

“Would you like some help?” Elain asked brightly. “I’ve been so bored during the winter, there’s not much to tend to, I’d love to help you out,” she said, with so much hope in her voice you couldn’t refuse.

“That would be lovely, Elain. I’ll come and get you once I have the plants back here, alright?”

Elain beamed at you. “Sounds like a plan, Y/N. I’m free all of this Wednesday, if that would end up working for you. If not, I’m sure I’ll be able to slip away for a little bit,” Elain suggested.

“I’ll try and get the plants here by Wednesday, Elain. Thank you again!” You said as you pushed your cart into the outdoors.

Luckily, the cart seemed to be enchanted to have the snow speared from its path, and you made it back to your home without much trouble.

Now the hard part: getting all of the dirt upstairs and into the planters.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

It took you a few hours to finish the planters off, and you were more than ready to wash the dirt from your skin by the time three in the afternoon rolled around, but you forced yourself to write a letter to Viviane, asking to come and grab the plants Wednesday morning before you did so.

You ran hot water in the tub, then let it fill up while you stripped your clothes from your skin and placed them in your laundry bin. You slipped into the tub, loving how your wings were able to sink beneath the water comfortably as well.

It was the first time they would have a proper wash in over a month, and you were looking forward to how soft and fluffy your feather would feel afterwards.

Taking your time, you spent over an hour in the bath carefully washing the first and debris from your wings, refilling the tub once so you could rinse clean. Afterwards, you wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, one that was so soft that you had bought all of your towels from the same vendor, even for the bakery, in varying shades of blues, pinks, and purples.

A reply from Viviane had landed on your desk while you were bathing, confirming that she would pick you up in front of Mor’s townhome at eight on Wednesday morning.

You’d considered buying baking supplies and bakeware today, but after the hauling of dirt you were too tired, and nothing sounded better than getting a takeout from Sevenda’s and curling up on the couch in front of your fireplace with the third Healer of Time book.

But getting Sevenda’s would require going outside again, and going across the Sidra…

You had the ingredients for the chicken curry you had made on your second night in Velaris, and that, you supposed, would be less daunting of a task than leaving your home.

You got dressed in a soft sweater dress, another recent purchase of yours, and let yourself read for a half an hour on the couch, until your stomach was growling at you to loudly to continue ignoring. Fine. I will make the damn curry.

You stood up from your couch and went into the kitchen, chopping and stirring and waiting until finally you had your dinner. Your cooking skills had improved in the month and a half since you’d made this recipe, and you could tell in the taste of the curry.

Seated at the table, you read while you ate, so lost in the gripping story that you hadn’t realized you were done with your food until you ate a spoonful of nothing.

“Oh,” you said to yourself, then got up and rinsed your bowl out. You were so tired already, and it was barely six in the evening.

Today would be a good day to start getting back into a baking sleep schedule, if you were so tired already… And then you would be able to get up bright and early in the morning, make yourself some breakfast, then head to the Palace of Bone and Salt to buy enough baking supplies to make each of your recipes three times, to make sure you still have all of the techniques you need down pat before your grand opening.

Grand opening. You could hardly believe it, you’re so close to your dream becoming a reality, and it’s been almost nothing but fun the entire journey.

That was definitely in part to the wonderful fae you’d met in Velaris, each one that you worked with you helpful and friendly. You truly couldn’t have asked for a better start to your new life here.

You allowed yourself to read until seven thirty, then forced yourself to get into bed.

It took a little while for you to fall asleep, even with being tired, but soon enough you drifted off, thoughts filled with bags of flour and the pastries you would make tomorrow.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Picking out your bakeware took you longer than expected.

Did you want glass or metal bowls? Pink or blue ceramic? Wooden utensils or metal utensils? You were so indecisive, trying to choose between whatever you liked most and trying to have a color scheme- but then you realized it doesn’t matter, all of them will be used for the same purpose.

And if you love all of your bakeware, then who cares if they don’t match?

So you’d gotten possibly double of everything that you needed, but that would just make it easier for you to do more batches or different things at once in the future. And you’re fine with that.

You’d carefully made your way home, trying your best not to break any of your new dishes.

Your only casualty was a cute mixing bowl you’d picked up for your personal kitchen, it was pink with little duckies all around it. You would get another at some point.

It took you two hours to have everything arranged the way you wanted, and immediately after getting your kitchen set up you went out again pushing your cart back to the Palace of Bone and Salt to get your baking ingredients. That shopping trip took you a bit over an hour, and by the time you got home you were tired once more, but more than ready to start baking again.

You had never gone much over a week without baking, ever since you were six years old. You felt like apart of you had been ripped away, until your hands finally sank into dough once more.

It was magical, how happy baking makes you. You baked for the rest of the night, probably eating far too many pastries for dinner, but you don’t care, because they’re pastries you baked, in your bakery.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Two days later, it was Wednesday, and Viviane had picked you up as promised.

“So, how’s Velaris treating you so far?” She asked as the two of you were on your knees in the greenhouse, working to free the last of three hornberry bushes you needed.

“It’s been amazing so far, the change of pace as been absolutely wonderful, and getting closer to the grand opening of the bakery I’m getting more and more excited! And everyone has been so kind so far, I feel so welcome.”

Your four combined hands finally pulled the bush out of the ground, and you carefully placed it in the cart holding the rest of your plants.

“That’s so great to hear, Y/N. I’m glad you’re settling in well, you deserve it after all you’ve been through,” Viviane said, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Did you need any other plants, dear?”

You looked over the cart thoroughly. “Nope, that’s all I need Viv. Thank you so much!”

“Of course, Y/N! You know this section of the garden practically belongs to you, right? You and your grandmother are the reason our birth rates and overall health as a court have gone up. If you need anything else from here, just write me again, okay?”

You nodded, smiling gratefully at her. “Oh, by the way, the money you gave me was far too much,” you said, and Viviane opened her mouth to speak. “But it is very much appreciated, Viv. It’s made getting the bakery perfect so easy.”

Viviane grinned at you. “I knew it was the right choice, telling you once you were already in Velaris,” she said with a laugh.

“That’s true, I would never have accepted it,” you agreed, chuckling along with her.

The two of you stood from where you were kneeling, dusting the dirt from your dresses. “Are you ready to see my bakery?” You asked, holding your arm out for Viviane to take.

“I have been since before it was built, Y/N,” Viviane replied, taking your arm and winnowing the both of you back to Mor’s townhouse. “Lead the way, dear.”

The two of you trekked back to your bakery, taking longer than usual with the cart’s wheels snagging on the snow.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s perfect!”

Your front doors had been delivered yesterday, perfectly depicting the change from dawn to day to night while snow falls over the Sidra, more beautiful than you had thought it could be.

“Isn’t it?” You asked dreamily, still slightly disbelieving that it was real, even when you’d been living here for the past five days. “Come on, let me show you the inside,” you said, unlocking the doors and dragging the cart inside after Viviane had entered.

“This is so cute! I wish you were open right now, I’ve been dying for one of your hornberry tarts. Leo does a good job, but I don’t think he’ll ever get them perfectly like yours, Y/N,” Viviane said, referencing the pasty chef you’d trained before moving.

“Well, if you come back for the opening or any time after, I’ll make sure you get a few to take home with you. I’m sure Kallias would like some as well,” you remarked with a smile, recalling how fond the High Lord was of your pastries.

“He’ll probably join me once you’re open, he won’t say it but I know he misses your baking. He does this cute little pouty face whenever something doesn’t taste perfect,” Viviane said, always ready to talk about her alpha. “Well, I’d better get going Y/N, I have a few meetings I need to get to, but let me know when your opening is and I’ll do my best to stop by.”

“I will, Viv. Winnow safe, okay?” You said as the two of you hugged, taking in one last breath of her calming snow and cranberry scent.

“I will, dear. Have fun planting!” Viviane said, winnowing away after giving a little wave goodbye.

You immediately set to taking the plants upstairs as quickly as you could, wanting to get Elain over at a reasonable hour.

It was eleven thirty when you finished, each and every last plant taken up the spiral staircase and placed next to the planter it would be replanted in.

You washed your hands, then put your winter wear on and headed into the city, going straight for Elain’s shop. When you arrived, the door was locked, so you knocked loudly on it. Elain came to the door a moment later, already dressed to leave the indoors.

“Lovely, Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it today!” Elain said excitedly, locking her shop up behind her. “And I get to see your bakery, I’m excited for that too!”

The two of you made your way to your bakery slowly, the two of you appreciating the people milling about as you walked.

“This is a gorgeous bakery you’ve got, Y/N,” Elain said once the two of you were standing in front of it, you unlocking the door.

“Thank you, Elain,” you said, swinging the door open and letting Elain inside.

“Oh, the inside is so adorable! Now I have such good ideas for your bouquets, after seeing the space. I’m thinking a blue flower in every weeks bunches, keep the winter theme going a bit.”

“I love that idea, Elain, that’s perfect!” You led her to the kitchen and up the stairs, and she rushed towards the garden.

“This is amazing! Who did your enchantments?” Elain asked once she was in the garden, the air even colder than it was outside.

“Gabrella, in the Palace of Flame and Steel,” you replied, joining her in the garden. “And this is my little garden,I’m excited to get everything planted. And please, don’t feel obligated to stay at any point, though I do truly appreciate your help.”

“I love to see new plants, and I’ve never seen any of these before. I’m guessing they’re native to the Winter Court, with the dirt you bought and the climate you’ve got here,” Elain said, hitting the nail on the head.

“You would be right, Elain. I use all of them in my pastries. All of them are pretty easy to plant, just make sure their roots are covered and then water them until the soil is completely soaked,” you informed Elain, already kneeling in front of one of the planters.

The two of you got to work, Elain watched you plant one of the bushes before moving to her own, planting it with expert hands.

As you worked, the two of you spoke of your lives, mainly your hopes for the near future. You spoke of your bakery, how excited you were to see it finally in action, and how the people of Velaris would react to your business. Elain talked about her mate and alpha, Lucien, and how they were hoping to have children soon.

“We’ve been trying rather vigorously,” Elain tittered, and you blushed along with her.

“Well, I cannot promise that it will work for sure, but I do make a fertility pastry with these berries,” you say, pointing to the spiky berries on the hornberry bush that you were currently planting. “We have seen a significant increase in births the Winter Court over the past five years, though that could be due to the end of everyone being imprisoned.”

“Anything at all that will help, we’ve been trying for the past five years with no luck so far. As long as it tastes decent, I am willing to try anything, I’ve wanted to be a mother for so long,” Elain said, sighing after she did.

“I believe they’re rather delicious, but you’ll just have to see for yourself,” you laughed.

Within two hours, you and Elain were sitting back on your hands, looking at your now completed garden. “Thank you for your help, Elain. Would you like to go to lunch with me?” You asked, wanting to thank her in some way other than words, and you had a feeling she would turn down any monetary payment you would offer.

“I would love to, Y/N. Did you have a specific place in mind?” She asked, already getting to her feet. You followed her up, then lead her over to the kitchen sink to wash the dirt from your hands.

“There’s this great noodle place on the west end of the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, if you’re interested? Or we can go someplace else, if you’d prefer,” you offered.

“Noodles sound great,” Elain said, smiling softly at you.

“Noodles it is, then.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Lunch with Elain was nice, and you walked her back over to her shop before heading home. The two of you had gotten to know each other better, and you were happy to know that you might already have three omega friends in your new city, very different compared to your sold one in Winter- Viviane.

When you got back to your home, slightly surprised to see Marcus outside of your doors.

“Ah, Y/N, there you are!” He said, walking over to meet you. “I was… I was hoping that I could ask you something.” For the first time since you had met him, Marcus sounded nervous.

“Go ahead.”

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me- on a date?” He asked.

You hadn’t seen it coming. You’d enjoyed his company, yes, he was fun to talk to and nice to be around.

“I… uhm…” you started, unsure of what to say.

“Look, there’s no strings attached, if you hate it halfway through, or even right when I pick you up, we can act like it never happened, hmm?”

You considered it for a moment. Would it really be so bad to go on a date with a handsome, friendly alpha?

“Okay, yes, I’ll go out with you. What night were you thinking?” You asked, looking up at Marcus nervously.

“Would tomorrow night at six work for you?”

You nodded your head. “Yes, tomorrow would be fine,” you respond. “I’ll see you then.”

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow night at six, Y/N,” Marcus said before departing from you with a wave, leaving you to slink inside of your bakery and contemplate what had just happened.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“You’re going on a date with Marcus? Oo, tell me what you’re going to wear!” Mor said excitedly, clapping her hands together.

“Just a dress and some tights, Mor, nothing fancy,” you said after swallowing your bite of salad.

“Well, at least tell me you’re excited for the date?”

“I guess so.” Mor stared at you, disbelief in her eyes as she chewed the last bite of her sandwich. “What? Marcus is nice, really nice, I just don’t feel any kind of spark towards him, that’s all.”

“At least give the male an honest chance, alright?” Mor asked of you before paying for the tab. “I’ve got to run, but next week you will tell me all about the date, yes?” You nodded your head. “Good. I’ll see you next Thursday, have a good date today doll,” Mor said, pressing a kiss to your cheek before leaving the restaurant.

You finished your salad, then walked the short distance home from the restaurant in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf.

Perhaps you should be getting ready excitedly at this point already, but you knew in your heart that you wouldn’t find that spark with Marcus. After all, you’d known each other nearly two months at that point, and you’d never looked at him as anything other than a friend.

But you supposed that going on a date, even one that you know you won’t go out with again, could be fun.

So you baked for a few hours, then took a long bath to make sure their was no flour left on your body. Getting dressed was easy, you simply slipped on one of your old favorites, a cute pink wool sweater dress that goes to your knees and some warm tights. You put on a little bit of eyeliner and a tiny bit of lipstick, but it only took you ten minutes to get ready. It was only five thirty.

You picked up your book and read, already on the fourth book of the series. By five fifty five, you had on your winter wear and boots and were downstairs.

Marcus knocked on the door exactly at six, looking handsome as usual.

“Shall we go?” He asked, extending an arm to you.

You took it, then said “Yes, lead the way Marcus,” with a gentle smile.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The date was fun, that was true. But you felt no kind of connection with Marcus besides that of a friend. He seemed to sense as much when he dropped you off at your door later that night.

“I had a wonderful time tonight, Y/N.”

“I did too, Marcus, but…” you trailed off, unsure of how to say it.

“But you don’t feel the connection?” Marcus asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “It’s alright, I had to take my chance, right? An omega as amazing and wonderful as you, well, you’re a catch to any alpha with eyes and ears, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Marcus. And I’m so sorry, I wish it could have worked out. You truly are a magnificent person, and I’ve loved getting to know you over the past two months. Friends?”

“Friends,” Marcus confirmed, giving you a brief hug before pulling away. “I’ll see you at your bakery’s opening, when was it again?”

“It will be next Friday, I’ve decided,” you declared brightly, glad that things with Marcus could still be pleasant.

“I’ll see you next Friday, Y/N,” Marcus said before walking away, leaving you on your doorstep once again.

You sighed and headed inside, going straight up to your bedroom to get undressed and wash your face. After you had, you flopped into bed, wishing that you’d been attracted to such a kind, helpful alpha.

But you’d find someone, at some point. You would meet at the right time, the perfect time, and everything would fall into place from there, you were sure of it.

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“It didn’t go well, did it?” Mor asked as you sat down across from her in the noodle restaurant.

You sighed. “No, it was a fine outing, just not a good date,” you said. “I did have fun with him, there just isn’t that connection there, you know?”

The two of you ordered quickly when the server came over, then went back to your conversation.

“Are you sure you don’t want to give it one more date?"

You nodded your head. “I’m sure, Mor. There’s no point to it, if I haven’t felt any kind of attraction in the two months we’ve known each other.”

It was Mor’s turn to sigh. “Okay, okay. Do you have any other alphas that you might like to date?” Mor asked, wiggling her brows at you.

“None that I can think of Mor, you can tell Viv that I’m happily single at the moment.”

Your food arrived then, and the two of you tucked into your food, both of you humming happily at the taste.

“So, my bakery opens tomorrow,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence while eating, and Mor quickly swallowed her current bite.

“Tomorrow? Oh, that’s so exciting Y/N! What time do you open? I’ll try to get there near then, but no promises, I might be sleeping in.l

“That’s fine, Mor, I’m opening at seven so I don’t really expect you to be awake at that time,” you laughed, knowing that the alpha was the opposite of a morning person.

“Mother no, I would never be up that early for anyone,” Mor giggled. “Have you sent out flyers or anything yet?”

“Yes, I had some pamphlets printed up with the menu, they’re being distributed around town as we speak!” You said brightly.

“That’s good, that’s good. I hope everything runs smoothly, Y/N, you deserve it after all of the hard work your put in.”

“Thank you, Mor. I just hope that people like my pastries.”

“Y/N, just based on that little sampler basket you brought me at the beginning of the week, the people here will go nuts over your bakery,” Mor reassured you.

You had brought a basket of pastries to every person that had helped you in starting your bakery: Mor, Marcus, Rella, Arana, Oren, and the stained glass artist, Wren. You’d actually brought five baskets to Marcus’s office, enough so that he could have a basket of his own, and plenty left for the crew that had worked so hard to bring your dream together.

“Thank you, I’m glad to hear that. I hope that you can make it tomorrow, I believe that Kallias and Viviane will be stopping in later in the day, so long as nothing pressing comes up.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing you and them tomorrow, then, Y/N,” Mor said as she gave you a quick goodbye hug, her citrus and cinnamon scent washing over you again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mor,” you said with a smile, managing to get your bank card down on the bill first.

You walked home alone, knowing that you needed to make sure everything was in order for the next morning as you went, taking a little longer to savor the warmth of the sun. It had started to warm a little bit, and most of the snow was cleared from the streets at this point.

You used your three hours before your self imposed bed time to check everything twice and make sure you had enough ingredients for everything you needed to bake in the morning, as well as plenty of tea and coffee for people to drink.

Your time to sleep went by too quickly, and soon enough it was four in the morning. You took a quick bath, then donned a comfortable lilac dress with a back scooped low enough for your wings to be free, something you’ll want as you will most likely be spending the next fifteen hours working in the kitchens and the front of house.

Finally, you thought, so happy that your grand opening is finally here.

You rushed downstairs, turning on the fae lights so that you could see your work.

Most of the pastries were done proving, and ready to go in the oven. You had plenty of your winter berry jams ready to go, all you need to do is make more dough and get it proving.

You spend the next two and a half hours working quickly and efficiently, the rush that baking on a large scale gave you fueling you on, faster than ever before.

You had just finished stocking up the pastry display cases, medicinal on the left and typical pastries on the right, when Elain showed up at the front door, bright eyes and perfect hair even at the early hour, You rushed over to unlock the door, opening it to let the sweet fae inside, and you flipped the open sign over as you shut the door.

“It smells absolutely wonderful in here Y/N. Lucien is bringing the rest of our family around, I made them all promise to show up after they devoured that basket of pastries you delivered to my house,” Elain said, shaking her head lightly at them. “I was able to try that hornberry pastry thought, it was divine. Tell me you’ve got plenty ready to go?” Elain asked.

“Oh yes, I’m already thinking it will be my most popular pastry, I’ve got two dozen ready already and another five dozen in the process of being made,” you reassured her, already going behind the counter to grab her a pastry and place it on a plate. “Here you go, and if you ever want to take some extras home, just let me know,” you said with a smile, loving that she immediately took a bite of the pastry.

“Seriously, these are so good,” Elain said, right as a crowd of people pushed through the front doors.

In first was a red headed male, who made his way straight to Elain, placing a kiss on her cheek and swiping the pastry from her fingers. Lucien, presumably.

Next in was a tall, bulky Illyrian with hazel eyes, holding hands with a beautiful fae- Nesta?

“Y/N?” Nesta asked, making her way over to your counter after she met your eyes. “I didn’t know you were the one Elain was working with, what a small world.”

You nodded your head, meeting her strong steel grey eyes. “Yes it is, I didn’t know that you were related to Elain, either. It’s nice to see you again, I’m hoping I can make it to that book club of yours in the next couple of weeks,” you said.

“That would be nice, Y/N."

“Introduce me,” the large Illyrian said after gently nudging Nesta, having followed her over.

Nesta rolled her eyes, a small but affectionate smile on her lips as she said “This is Cassian, my mate.”

Cassian stuck his large hand out for you to take, and when you did his hand practically swallowed yours. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Now, am I allowed to order right away or should I wait a little bit?” The alpha asked, eyes already turned to the pastry cases.

“You can order right now, if you’d like,” you responded, letting him look over the options for a moment.

“Oh, Nes, we are so getting the hornberry pastries, remember that little promise that you made to me?” Cassian asked, turning his mouth to Nesta’s ear, whispering something that made the fae’s face turn beet red before she nodded. “We will take two of those, plus three croissants.”

You handed them their pastries on a large plate, telling them “Bring it up here when you’re done, or if you need a to go bag.” They left the counter, Nesta still blushing profusely, even when they sat down.

You looked back to the door, seeing Mor and another Illyrian next to her, this one with shadows swirling around him, occasionally dipping into his ears. They moved over to the right side pastry case, peering through the glass at what you had on offered. You glanced away from them and back to the door, and that’s when you saw them-

The most devastatingly beautiful male and female you had ever seen, power thrumming off of them in gentle, soothing waves, and their combined scents washed over you- citrus, sea, jasmine and lilacs. A perfect, heart stopping blend of two alpha scents that set your mind and body on fire in the best possible way. You felt so awake now, so present as you stared at them both, trying to memorize their faces as quickly as you could.

This. This is the feeling you wanted to feel when you went on a date with someone.

The couple moved closer to you, and Mor introduced them.

“Y/N, this is Rhys and Feyre, our High Lord and Lady.”

Oh, Mother, you are so fucked.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Feyre said, extending two beautifully tattooed hands to grasp yours. “Mor has told us so much about you, it’s nice to finally put a face to her kind words.”

Your heart nearly stopped, you were sure of it. “It’s lovely to meet you as well, High Lady-”

“Oh none of that, please call us Feyre and Rhys,” Rhys said, his strong voice pulling your eyes away from Feyre’s hypnotic ocean eyes. His were just as mesmerizing, violet with flecks are stars in them, just as beautiful as his mate’s.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Rhys and Feyre,” you corrected, your hands still captive in Feyre’s.

“Alright you two, stop hogging my friend, I’d like to have one of her delicious pastries for breakfast,” Mor said, breaking the spell the two alphas had over you, and you finally looked away from Rhys’s eyes to lock onto Mor’s.

“Did you know what you wanted, Mor?”

“Yes, I’ll have one of those cute little cheese danishes, and a cup of coffee with some cream please.”

You nodded your head, then set to grabbing Mor’s order. With your head turned from the group, though, you couldn’t help but close your eyes.

You are so fucked. They are mates, they are a couple, you will never have them. Remember that, you thought to yourself, before turning around, Mor’s coffee and danish in hand

Mor tapped her bank card to your ledger before you could stop her, sticking her tongue out at you. “You can’t make me not pay, Y/N, I just won’t do it,” she said while smiling at you, then left the counter to take a seat in front of the fireplace, where Elain and Lucien were now sitting.

You turned your head back to the couple that you knew would stay in your thoughts for days, maybe even weeks to come. “Did you two know what you wanted?”

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

[littlest-w01f]

RHYSAND MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

All my Rhysand works and WIP (not in order)

Best Medication (Rhysand x Medic reader) {smut}

Summary: Rhysand is sick after accidentally scenting a mineral in one of the caves of the Illyrian mountains, he desperately needs Reader's help

Rita's (Feysand x Bartender Reader) {smut}

Summary: Feyre is drunk, and the barmaid who opened her and her husband's tab that night looks sexier with every shot. Rhysand is more than willing to aid her drunken fantasy

Jester (mini-series) [Rhysand x Lesser Fae!OC]

Summary: Rhysand found himself in The Middle after turning High Lord, he met a lesser fae there, the kind his parents warned him about, and centuries later he finds her again

part one

Decors Starfall week (Rhysand x Reader)

Summary: Rhysand needs Reader's first Starfall with him to be perfect

Devine (mini-series) [Batboys x CoN!OC]

Summary: Rhysand is getting older, and he, along with his general and spymaster, needs to claim an Omega before his Alpha instincts take control of him completely and he is rendered unfit to be a High Lord, lucky or unluckily for him, Kier has an idea.

part one

Home Starfall week (Rhysand x Evelyn)

Summary: Under the Mountian, Evelyn sees Rhysand for the dimmed star he had become for the first time

Deserve (Feysand x Reader) {angst}

Summary: Feyre and Rhysand want to go all out to celebrate their first anniversary with Reader but she can't hide her anxiety from them anymore.

Sensitive (Batboys x Reader) {smut}

Summary: Rhysand shows you he and his closest friends aren't put off by blood

Rhysand Appreciation Week 2024

[rosanna-writer]

every night with us is like a dream

Summary: The one where Rhys knots in Lucien, Feyre knots in Lucien, and everyone finds the whole thing pretty healing. Pairing: Feyre x Rhysand x Lucien Rating: Explicit Warnings: None

For Day 4 of @acotar-omegaverse-week: Getting Knotty! You can read it Here on AO3 or under the cut!

Perhaps it had all started with Lucien's sad eyes. He'd looked so lost when he'd arrived in Velaris, but at first, Feyre had just convinced herself that she was feeling nothing more than concern for her best friend after he'd been kicked out of his home again.

She was High Lady—of course she wanted Lucien to feel comfortable in the Night Court.

But she'd still only been an alpha for the few short months since she'd been revived Under the Mountain and gained a secondary gender along with immortality. Humans were just…humans. The instincts and biology of alphas, betas, and omegas were still new to her.

Lucien had said she didn't need to convince him of why she'd fallen in love with the City of Starlight��and its ruler—but Feyre had taken a few hours to show him the city anyway. The whole time, the urge to slide her wrist along his neck and soothe him with her scent had been so strong that she'd kept her hands balled into fists in her coat pockets.

He'd been through so much. They both had. If she was picturing how beautiful Lucien would look with her knot locked inside him, it was just those runaway alpha instincts urging her to protect and comfort an omega.

And besides, Feyre might have been incandescently happy to be mated to Rhys, but she wasn't blind. Lucien was gorgeous.

She knew her mate, though. There was something beyond just feeding and clothing Lucien because it was good manners to help a High Lord's son. Feyre caught the satisfied glint in Rhysand's eyes.

When Lucien joined the Inner Circle for dinner again a few days later, he wore black. Probably nothing more than a subtle indication that he was making an effort to fit in—he was an emissary, after all. He knew what he was doing.

Feyre found herself feeling something akin to pride anyway. It was just a shade too feral to be called patriotism—no, some part of her that hadn't existed until she'd become High Fae liked the sight of an omega wearing the color that would warn everyone away but her and her mate.

As they sat down to eat, a familiar expression flickered across Rhys's face, and she wondered if this was how he'd felt the first time he'd seen her in Night Court attire.

She'd heard of mated alpha pairs sharing an omega. There had been a trio like that at Rita's—Azriel had chuckled and explained when she'd asked why a fight hadn't broken out when two alphas had danced close to the same omega. Another strange facet of being High Fae.

There had been precious little time to enjoy her newly-accepted mating bond with the threat of war looming on the horizon. So much had changed and so quickly—Feyre and Rhys had never discussed the possibility of a third.

There was no point, at least as long as Hybern still posed a threat. But during the brief time that Lucien had stayed in the townhouse before leaving to find Vassa on the Continent…Feyre had thought about it.

And though she was sure it was just teasing when Rhysand had asked her if she'd like to invite someone to their bed—if she'd like two males worshiping her—Feyre thought about it again.

When the war ended and it was just the two of them in the townhouse again, she was relieved. Truly. But neither of them had the heart to dismantle the nest that Lucien had left in the guest room.

Rhys's salt-and-citrus scent was the best thing in the world. But smelling it laced with Lucien's had been…nice.

They'd invited him for dinner a few weeks later. He'd been back in Velaris to discuss the goings-on in Prythian's slice of the human lands, and Feyre had wanted to make it clear they regarded Lucien as more than merely an emissary. A member of their family, just like the rest of the Inner Circle.

Feyre had expected it to be awkward. Rhysand had never made a secret of his anger over Lucien's failure to protect her from Tamlin and the attempt to drag her back to the Spring Court. And Lucien had been hurt she'd lied after Hybern and deliberately made him the target of Tamlin's ire.

But at some point during the war, they'd buried the hatchet without realizing it. Gratitude for being alive made it hard to care about the past.

Feyre was content to sip her wine and listen to them talk about tailors in Velaris and the cut of Lucien's jacket. When Rhys ran a finger along Lucien's sleeve to feel the texture of the wool blend—and certainly not the firmness of the bicep beneath—he locked eyes with her. His hand lingered longer than it needed to.

What are you doing? she asked through the bond, taking a bite of food to cover the fact that she was speaking mind-to-mind in front of a guest.

Nothing I don't think you'd like. The words glittered with wicked amusement as they floated down the tether linking her soul to Rhys's.

She didn't dare drag the conversation out any longer. Lucien's golden eye was already clicking.

"Let me show you the shoulder seams," Lucien said, shrugging off the jacket with a slight stretch upward—and a deliberate flash of bare skin as his shirt rode up in the process.

Feyre's cheeks heated. The mechanical eye whirred.

In the end, it was Rhysand who'd broached the topic. Even as High Lady—and as an alpha—Feyre still sometimes found it difficult to ask for what she wanted.

"Stay the night, Lucien," he said as the meal came to a close. "There's plenty of room for you here."

"Is there?" Lucien said, voice sharp. Almost an accusation, but not quite—a challenge at the very least.

In another court, it would have gotten him in trouble. Omegas, after all, did what they were told, and that was doubly true when the orders were coming from a High Lord.

But not in the Night Court.

"It's not a command, just another option available to you. Consider tonight an opportunity to decide whether you'd like to spend another heat cycle among the humans or here instead."

Lucien's gaze slid to Feyre, who said quietly, "It's been a long time since an alpha's taken proper care of you. Let us."

A quiet understanding passed between them—Tamlin had failed Lucien as an alpha. And though Feyre wasn't an omega, he'd caused her suffering, too. In the end, she and Lucien had escaped together, and that connected them in ways deeper than just close friendship.

Even with suppressant potions, he still stayed with Jurian and Vassa during his heats, as far from any other fae as possible. Feyre might have been the only alpha Lucien trusted enough to get close to him.

But she wasn't sure that trust extended to her mate, too.

Lucien hesitated. That look of uncertainty was back, and Feyre had to stop herself from growling a command to get into the nest so she could fix this for him.

The air in the townhouse seemed to go still. But Lucien finally said, "Alright. Convince me, then."

Feyre felt the bond slacken in her chest, as if it had slumped in relief. Rhys's voice floated into her head again. Talk him through it while he takes my knot.

It sounded uncomfortably close to an order, and normally, Feyre would have bristled at that. But during those hundreds of years before she was born, Rhys must have had a third in his bed at least once—in this, she'd follow his lead.

Make it as good for him as you do for me.

He said nothing in response, but their mating bond seemed to hum with wicked anticipation. The silence had stretched on long enough that Lucien was looking at her curiously, waiting for one of them to explain.

"Upstairs," Rhys said, and Feyre took Lucien's hand to winnow them there.

In the guest room, she sat on the bed and made herself comfortable in the nest they'd left undisturbed for months. Lucien stared at it in shock.

Feyre felt her cheeks go hot again—keeping the nest around was a hint at just how long she'd been thinking about this, and that was a little bit mortifying. If tonight went well, he'd still tease her mercilessly about it.

They'd always be best friends, underneath it all.

But there wasn't much time to dwell on it; Rhys had already sprung into action. As always, he kissed like an alpha, fisting a hand in Lucien's hair to angle the omega's head just where he wanted it. Lucien melted against him, soft and pliant, lips parting.

"Good, Lucien," Feyre said, and his answering groan into her mate's mouth went straight to her core. She wanted to paint the sight of auburn hair slipping through brown fingers—a bonfire bright against the night sky.

There was no rush. She watched in rapt fascination as Rhys thoroughly plundered every inch of Lucien's mouth. The two males were both absurdly beautiful on their own, but together, putting on a show for her…Feyre could be content with just this and nothing else.

The bond was quiet, but Rhys didn't need to speak for her to know he was waiting for her to urge things forward. Those demanding alpha instincts had let up just enough for him to give her a turn being in charge. He'd yield to his mate and no one else.

"On the bed," she said. "I'll help Lucien out of his clothes."

Without breaking the kiss, Rhys walked Lucien backwards until his calves brushed the edge of the bed. Rhys leaned forward, easing Lucien back as Feyre reached for him.

"We've got you, omega," Feyre said, sitting forward so her front rested against Lucien's back. She could feel Rhys's eyes on her as she ran her nose in a slow line up the side of Lucien's neck—his pulse was throbbing, the scent of omega especially strong right above his mating gland.

Another time. If Lucien let her and Rhys sink their teeth into it, they'd do that another time.

But that thought still didn't stop the slight spark of magic as her cock began to appear, brought to life by the scent of an omega.

Instead, she pressed open-mouthed kisses along the line she'd just traced, undoing the buttons of Lucien's shirt one by one. For once, Lucien was quiet, just making contented noises in the back of his throat as she explored the planes of his chest.

Feyre glanced up at Rhys, who'd used magic to get rid of his shirt and was still standing at the edge of the bed, his wings folded back and out of reach. She wondered if Lucien knew what a show of trust it was that Rhys had them out at all.

Not that she wanted to start a conversation about it. There were more important things to do with Rhys looking down at them hungrily, pupils blown wide.

"You're being so good for us, Lucien," Feyre said, and he ground his hips back in answer, pressing his ass against her rapidly-lengthening cock. The arousal it sent blazing through her nearly had Feyre bending him over and knotting him immediately, their original plan be damned.

But that wasn't what Lucien needed from her. After Tamlin…it would be a while before anyone could be rough with Lucien. Instead, Feyre added, "When I said on the bed, I meant you too, Rhysand."

As obedient as he'd been, Lucien wasn't quite so far gone that he couldn't snicker at the rebuke and Feyre's irritated use of her mate's full name. She kissed Lucien's cheek.

"I wasn't aware you were giving me orders," Rhys said, smirking.

"I'm always giving you orders."

He knelt on the bed, straddling Lucien's thighs. "Which is exactly how I prefer it."

Feyre slid her hands down, resting them at the top of Lucien's pants. Rhys's eyes tracked the movement. Otherwise, he didn't move, clearly waiting for instructions.

"All you need to to do is watch, Lucien. I'll take care of getting you out of these clothes—Rhys can strip himself."

"Yes, alpha," Lucien said.

The words ripped a satisfied growl from Feyre before she knew what she was doing. The bestial, entirely-faerie pleasure of a compliant omega in her arms, his scent in her nose…it was still new and overwhelming. Feyre didn't know how she managed to think straight.

Rhys wasn't entirely unaffected, either. He'd shuddered as he pulled at the fastenings of his pants, wings flaring out involuntarily.

Lucien's cock sprang free as Feyre peeled off the rest of his clothes. In truth, she didn't care about his proud, impressive length—it was impossible to care when her fingers brushed the slick already dampening his thighs.

She ran a finger towards the top of his legs. "Look at how much of this you've already made for us. Good. You're being such an eager omega, all ready to take a knot."

Rhys tipped his head to the side and took in the sight of them. The expression on his face was soft, thoughtful and almost…fond. Something about it made Feyre's heart squeeze, even as he ran a hand slowly from the base to the tip of his cock.

"On all fours for me, omega. Eyes on Feyre," he said.

Lucien complied, leaning down to brace most of his weight on his forearms. Feyre ran a hand through his hair, running the scent glads in her wrist along his face and neck as she brushed the auburn strands out of the way. He tipped his head to the side and leaned into the touch.

"Would you like to keep going?" Feyre said.

"Please," Lucien said.

She'd thought the sight of Lucien and Rhys kissing was beautiful, but it didn't compare to watching her mate slide inside an omega. Lucien was already lost—eyes half-shut, lips parted, already pushing his ass back to take more, and Rhys's wings flared out in time with the thrust of his hips.

The sight was so entrancing that she nearly forgot she was supposed to be talking Lucien through it.

"You're taking him so well. We're lucky to have a perfect omega with us," Feyre said.

Lucien's response was nothing more than a desperate keening sound that went straight to Feyre's cock. She stroked herself along with Rhys's slow slide out and then in again.

Rhys brushed Lucien's back in a long caress over the scars criss-crossing his tawny skin. Lucien pressed a hand forward, and Feyre interlaced their fingers.

There was no need for words—they'd all suffered Under the Mountain, and they'd all gotten out. They'd survived. Feyre and Rhys had built a life together in the aftermath, and watching him with Lucien made her hope that Lucien could do the same and join them.

But that was too much, and it wasn't the time to discuss it, even as her eyes drifted back to the gland on Lucien's neck. Soon, maybe. But not yet.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" she said, and Lucien managed a nod. "I love how both of you look like this. And you haven't even taken Rhys's knot yet."

Lucien twisted his head back to look at Rhys over his shoulder. "Your knot. Please."

"You'll look at me while you take it," Feyre said. She curled a finger under Lucien's chin to guide his face back towards her.

The males moaned in unison as Rhys snapped his hips forward and his knot swelled and locked him inside Lucien. Feyre shivered at the sound, already positive that it would replay in her head night after night for centuries to come.

They looked perfect like this—Rhys's head tilted back in ecstasy, the flush creeping up Lucien's face as he struggled to keep looking at her instead of doing the same.

Feyre stroked Lucien's cheek with her thumb, just a few short inches from the mating gland in his neck. "We could keep you filled up like this forever," she said. "Take turns giving you our knots in this nest you made for us. It's where you belong, isn't it?"

Lucien's answering moan might have been a sound of agreement.

Later—she'd ask if it had truly been agreement later. Rhys was learning forward, a gentle hand on Lucien's lower back as he kissed Feyre. She parted her lips eagerly, welcoming the sweep of her mate's tongue into her mouth.

Somehow, he tasted so much sweeter with his knot inside an omega.

She kept the kiss brief, then went back to stroking Lucien's hair, running her scent glands over his skin, and murmuring praise. Even in this, Rhys followed her lead, bowing his head to pepper kisses along Lucien's neck and shoulders.

It meant everything to see them climax together—these two males she loved so much, who had both been to hell and back with her.

She could have watched them like that forever, but Rhys's knot faded eventually. Lucien pillowed his head on Feyre's thigh as the other male slid out of him and made the mess vanish with a flick of his fingers.

Rhys stretched, catlike, then sprawled out next to them on the bed. Lucien watched, his mechanical eye clicking lazily as he took in the sight of Rhys's muscles rippling with the movement. In some ways, Feyre thought watching them boneless and content was just as lovely as seeing them locked together.

"You can take my knot next if that wasn't enough. But if Rhys tired you out, we can rest. Your choice," Feyre said.

Lucien flashed her a grin. "Unlike that old bag of bones you call a mate, I can last for more than one round."

"Little Lucien," Rhys purred, "be careful, or I might just take that as a challenge."

"You're a lot less intimidating when your joints creak," Feyre said, ignoring Rhys's half-hearted snarl as she rolled Lucien onto his back. She pinned him down, and the smell of slick filling the air again was evidence enough that he didn't mind. And with Lucien under her, she was face-to-face with Rhys.

"You're more than spry enough for the three of us," Rhys said, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. A flicker of magic, and her clothes were off.

Lucien parted his legs for her. Feyre leaned down and ran her nose along his neck again; the scent of cinnamon and campfire and arousal and omega was just as heady as having a beautiful male under her and ready for her cock.

A shadow fell over them both. Rhys had stretched his wings forward and curled them around her and Lucien. In Lucien's nest and encircled in Rhys's wings…there was nowhere else Feyre wanted to be.

This was home.

She shifted her hips, aligning herself with Lucien's ass. His thighs were already coated in slick again, and she let out a satisfied growl.

"Are you going to be just as good for her as you were for me?" Rhys said.

The flush on Lucien's cheeks deepened a bit at the praise. "Yes, alpha."

Feyre's first thrust was slow and experimental—she'd never done this with an omega before. But Lucien was so wonderfully warm and wet and tight, already opening so beautifully for her, that she could drown in the feeling.

She moved faster, and Lucien let out an honest-to-Cauldron whimper. He snapped his hips up, taking her deeper, and the pleasure built like a wildfire low in her belly.

With a keening sound of her own, Feyre pressed herself deeper as her knot swelled and locked her inside. The first orgasm crashed through her, and at first Feyre thought her vision had just gone white.

But no—as she did with Rhys, she glowed. And her own light coaxed out Lucien's own. She was dimly aware of Lucien's back bowing beneath her and Rhys whispering, "Beautiful."

She'd been holding herself up on her arms, but the force of the overwhelming pleasure made them tremble. Lucien reached up and pulled her down against him, and the shift of her hips and the brush of her nipples against his chest made them both moan again.

Lucien's skin had gone hot, his own glow a fiery blaze that complimented Feyre's starlight. Rhys had loosened the damper on his own power, the tendrils of inky black making both their light even brighter and clearer.

Lucien held her close as Rhys stroked her hair and told Lucien how well he took Feyre's knot and how perfect he looked coming with it inside. Feyre wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, Rhys's star-flecked power sliding between her and Lucien, the tendrils caressing them both. It seemed like an eternity—but at the same time, far too soon—when her knot disappeared and her cock along with it.

She didn't let go of Lucien as she pulled them both onto their sides. Rhys slid an arm around Lucien, his violet eyes meeting hers over Lucien's shoulder as he pressed his chest against Lucien's back.

"Thank you for this," Lucien said, voice thick. "I— I wasn't sure I'd ever take a knot again."

"There's no need for thanks. Your trust is an honor," Rhys said softly.

Even now, after the dust had long since settled, Feyre couldn't help but marvel at the change—they'd come such a long way from Rhys leaving a head in the Spring Court garden and Lucien calling him Amarantha's whore.

"You'll always have a place here with us," Feyre said. Everything was still too new to say where here was—in the Night Court, in their bed, in this nest, in their hearts. She wouldn't push Lucien.

Not when the wounds were still healing over.

The mating gland could wait; they had all the time in the world. For now, Feyre merely held Lucien tighter as she leaned over to kiss Rhysand. Just having both of them with her was more than enough.

[starfall-spirit]

Precious Collateral Masterlist

Read on Ao3 // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist

Ship: Feyre x Rhysand x Cassian x Azriel

Rating: E

TW: Non-con/Rape, Underage, Honestly I'm not sure if they'll fall in love or if it's just Stockholm Syndrome amplified by alpha/omega instinct.

Summary: When Rhys set out to collect his dues from the head of the Archeron house, he knew the man would be begging for more time. What he didn’t expect was to be offered the youngest daughter as collateral.

After spending only a day in the temperamental woman’s company, he found himself utterly enthralled with his new guest—and with no intention of letting her father scrape together the funds that would grant her her freedom.

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV *ACOTAR Omegaverse Week~Nesting

Chapter V *ACOTAR Omegaverse Week~All Tied Up

Chapter VI *ACOTAR Omegaverse Week~Getting Knotty

Chapter VII *ACOTAR Omegaverse Week~Mating Bites

[potatoplace]

Can It Smell Like You?

Feyre x Rhys

Summary: Feyre wakes up feeling different than usual, and her alpha has a meeting in the Hewn City. Promised alone time when he returns, the High Lady goes shopping in the Palace of Thread and Jewels to pass the time.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: only A/B/O dynamics I think, unless youre allergic to Feysand fluff

Author's Note: I had so much fun writing this! Soft Rhys plus a sweet, needy Feyre is just perfect. Written for Day 1: Nesting of @acotar-omegaverse-week (I know, I'm very late to the party on this one lol)

Rating: T

🩵💜🩵

Feyre woke up feeling off this morning.

She had woken up before Rhys this morning, not a rarity but uncommon, her mate seemed to have an internal alarm that signaled to him the night was ending, always able to get up with the sun if Feyre herself didn’t pull him back into the mattress.

She rolled to turn toward him, and took a moment to admire her wonderful, beautiful mate sleeping on his side facing her.

Then she pressed her face into his chest and pulled the covers over her head, and took a long, deep inhale of her alpha’s scent. Her body relaxed, falling further into him as she nuzzled her head against him, letting out something akin to a purr.

Rhys’s breathing started coming in faster, and his arms came to wrap around Feyre.

“Good morning, my sweet mate,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep. “You’re up early.”

Feyre nodded her head against his chest but gave no response, just continuing to press her face into his night shirt, taking more greedy inhales of his scent, causing Rhys’s arms to tighten around her.

He moved onto his back, gently bringing Feyre with him to lay half on his chest. Her right leg quickly swung over his, and she pulled herself closer against him, still covered entirely by the blankets.

Rhys moved to pull the blanket down and look at her, but she grabbed the edge of it before it could reveal her.

“Darling,” Rhys started, “Is everything alright?”

She mumbled something against his chest before releasing the blanket.

“What was that, sweet omega?”

She let out breathy sigh of contentment before answering him. “I just don’t feel like getting out of bed today, alpha.”

“And keeping the blanket over your head accomplishes that… how?” Rhys asked playfully, attempting to move the blanket down again.

Feyre let him, tilting her head up from his chest to look up at him.

“There she is,” Rhys breathed, staring his mate in the eyes, a soft smile on his face and a tender, loving look in his eyes. A small smile spread across her lips, and she pushed the side of her head against him again, taking another lungful of his scent in.

“Is my little omega feeling needy today?” She nodded her head, and he pressed a long kiss to the top of her head, scenting her at the same time.

“I know we have that meeting with Keir…” Feyre started, trailing off.

Rhys picked up on where she was heading with it, asking “Did you want to skip out on this one, darling?” Another nod from Feyre, and he brought a hand up to caress her head, slowly massaging it. “That’s fine by me darling, I’ll take Az with me and be back as soon as we can, if that’s okay with you?”

Feyre let out a small whine at the suggestion, wanting to stay exactly where she is.

A soft chuckle escaped Rhys’s lips. “I know, sweet thing. I will make it as short a meeting as possible, even if it means throwing Keir in the dungeons.”

Feyre scoffed. “Like you don’t want to do that every day, alpha.”

Rhys hummed into her hair. “I suppose that’s true. But regardless omega, I will be back from the dreadfully boring meeting and you can keep me in bed all you want for the rest of the day. Does that sound alright to you darling?”

Feyre stuck her lip out, looking up at him again. “I suppose it will have to do… can we at least do breakfast in bed?”

“Of course, darling. Will you let me get up of should ask if Nuala can bring it to us?” Feyre shoved her face back into Rhys’s chest. “Nuala it is,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

They stayed wrapped together until Nuala knocked on the door, and Rhys disentangled himself from Feyre’s tight grasp, resisting the urge to fall back into the bed at the soft whines escaping her.

He walked over to the door, opening it and taking the tray from Nuala, thanking her before shutting the door and padding back over to the bed where Feyre had sat up against the headboard with pillows piled at her back.

They ate their food in a comfortable silence, Feyre leaning her head on Rhys’s shoulder between bites.

“Are you sure you’re okay, darling?” He asked once more, taking a bite of fruit right after.

“I am perfectly fine Rhys, I just feel like having a nice, lazy day with my mate. But I promise I can wait a few hours, Rhys,” she reassured him, flashing him a smile. Rhys eyed her for a moment.

“If you’re sure, Fey.”

She ate her last bite of toast and nodded her head in assurance. “I promise Rhys. I might even go shopping in town today, it might be good for me to get a short walk in before we stay in bed the rest of the day,” she said, trouble dancing in her eyes.

Rhys’s eyes mirrored her own, and after moving the tray to the end of the bed he held out a hand to her. “Shower with me first, my love?”

Feyre grabbed his hand, and they both beelined their way to the bathroom, shucking off their clothes as they went.

🩵💜🩵

The air was crisp, still early enough into the season of spring to have the bite of winter on some days. Rhys had left the town house a while before her, winnowing Azriel with him to the Hewn City for their meeting with Keir. Before she had left, Cerridwen had made sure to wrap a scarf around Feyre’s neck and a hat on her head, warning her that it was still a bit cold out this morning.

The Palace of Thread and Jewels was already alive with shoppers, all of them out with a purpose.

Feyre didn’t have one.

She didn’t truly need to buy anything today, but if Rhys wasn’t in bed with her then she needed something to distract her. And looking at beautiful fabrics seemed like a decent enough way to do it.

She passed a few shops, the rich colors and buttery soft looking materials were lovely, but not quite enough to draw her past the doors.

Until she found the most amazing, cutest store.

Feyre isn’t much for cute things, but seeing the small, stuffed Illyrian warriors displayed in the window, along with other types of fae and different creatures from all around Prythian. While she was certain most of them were deadly in their own right, the creator of the plush creatures had managed to keep the essence of them while making them adorable as well.

But the Illyrian ones… those were her favorite.

She pushed the door open, almost in a trance as her feet led her over to the display. She picked up one that had striking violet eyes and raven hair, the wings sticking up proudly.

A perfect little miniature of her husband, her mate, her alpha. The only thing missing was his scent.

That, she would rectify once she was home with him.

She turned away from the display, and walked further into the store.

There were a few adorable feline creatures, and she picked up one that was black with small stars embroidered in its eyes. This one would be nice, too.

Two should be fine. Two is good. They would look cute on their bed, nestled in with the mound of pillows Feyre had left against the headboard.

Feyre turned towards the counter, ready to purchase her new adorable plushies. That’s when she spotted the lunar collection, full of moons of varying sizes and cycles, as well as differently colored stars.

“Ah, High Lady, thank you for visiting our shop!” The clerk at the counter greeted, snapping Feyre out of her slight daze.

“I am happy to be here, you have some wonderful creations here!” Feyre said excitedly, looking over at the moons and stars again.

The clerk looked down at the ones already in her hand and smiled at what she saw. “I see you found one of our High Lord, it’s quite popular for young children.” Feyre blinked at her, unsure of what she meant. “The High Lord is our protector, the one who has kept this city safe through so much. There is not much that is more comforting to the children of Velaris than him, High Lady.”

“Oh.” Feyre smiled then, realizing how much her husband, her wonderful mate was loved by those in his, their, court. “That makes me happy to hear, thank you.”

The clerk smiled back, and turned her attention back to the plushies. “Was that all you were wanting today?”

Feyre set them on the counter, but looked back to those lunar plushies again. She walked over and grabbed a full moon about as wide across as her arm, and a blue and violet star, one for Rhys and one for her, the returned to the counter.

“Perfect, High Lady-”

“Please, call me Feyre.”

“Alright, Feyre, will you be using your line of credit today?”

“Yes, please. And a bag of two, if you have them.”

A few minutes later after saying goodbye, Feyre walked back out into the street, laden with two bags on her arms.

And only a few minutes later, she was drawn into another store.

🩵💜🩵

After a while longer, Feyre had returned to the town house, burdened with far more purchases than she had intended., and a few custom ordered blankets and matching pillows on the way.

She dropped the bags to the ground, and stopped to take off her outerwear before picking them up again.

Feyre dragged herself up the stairs to her and Rhys’s bedroom, bags feeling heavier by the step. But then, she was in front of their bed. Their wonderful, cushy bed. But it needed more.

She proceeded to rip apart the bags, placing all the new pillows and blankets along the outer edges of the bed, loving the way all of the purples, blues, and black looked in the arrangement.

Now all that was missing was the plush creatures, and Feyre could crawl back into bed and take a nap until Rhys got home.

Feyre grabbed them all in her arms, and carefully made her way over the pile at the foot of the bed, and started arranging them around where she was planning to rest her head.

Once that was done, Feyre made her way back off the bed and over to the wardrobe, looking for something comfortable to wear. She looked through her side, then through Rhys’s. But nothing felt right. Until she eyed his sleep shirt from this morning where they had dropped it in their haste to get in the shower.

She quickly pulled it on, pulling the collar up to her nose and inhaling deep. Citrus and sea. Mate. Alpha.

Her body went slack, nearly toppling over from the relief spreading through her. Now she could get into bed and wait for her alpha to return to her.

She pulled one of the blankets that was on the bed this morning over her, nuzzling her face down into and grabbing the Illyrian plush, holding it tight in her arms.

It only took a few minutes for her to fall asleep, part of her that felt off after waking soothed now, happy with whatever it was shopping had accomplished for her.

She was awoken by the door snicking shut softly, and footsteps leading towards the bed, and a wash of citrus and sea came over her.

“Pretty, perfect omega. Are you nesting, darling?” Rhys asked gently when she turned her head to look at him. Feyre only pouted up at him, confused at to why he wasn’t already in the bed with her.

“What’s nesting?” She asked, and anger immediately colored Rhys’s expression. “Am I… is it bad?” She didn’t think so, not with the praise he had greeted her with.

“No, no darling. It’s nothing that you’ve done, it’s the fact that those buffoons over in Spring couldn’t even bother to explain to you your additional biology.” Rhys leaned against one of the bedposts, crossing his arms. “Nesting is something that an omega does before they go into heat. They did explain to you what a heat is, right?” Feyre nodded, remembering that horrid conversation with Ianthe well. “Well then, darling, it appears as if you’re going to have your first heat soon, if you’ve never nested before this.” Feyre nodded again. Rhys shifted his weight back onto his feet, bending slightly as though he wanted to prowl across the bed towards her, before he stopped. “Am I allowed to come in, omega?”

“Of course, alpha. Why didn’t you come in already?” She asked as he took off his shoes and jacket.

“It can be an issue if the omega is feeling vulnerable at all, so it’s best to ask each time. And, it’s simply good manners, darling,” he said, sliding into the nest next to her.

“Mm. You’re so polite, alpha.” Feyre lifted the blanket, tossing the edge over Rhys and moving closer to him, her arm still wrapped around his plush form.

“I do like what you’ve done with the nest, omega.” Rhys placed a kiss on her forehead, bringing his hand to her neck and rubbing along the mating mark. Feyre let out a soft sigh, pressing her neck into his hand. “You went shopping and brought such pretty, soft, adorable things into this nest, and it is absolutely perfect, darling.”

The praise made a shiver go up her spine, and she let out a soft mewl and pressed her body into his, slinging her top arm and leg over him, the Illyrian plush now pressed between their chests.

“And what’s this, sweet thing?” He asked, pulling it up just a bit to get a better look at it. “Awe, Feyre, you got a little mini me?” She nodded eagerly, her omega hoping desperately that he approved of it. “I love it, darling. It is so adorable, and now when you have morning you don’t want to be alone but I’m busy, you’ll have a little piece of me with you.” Feyre nodded again, a question ready to burst through her lips.

“Would you…? Could you…?”

“Yes omega?”

Feyre’s cheeks burned. “Can you make it smell like you? For… for when you’re gone. I like… I need to have your scent around me, alpha,” she said, stuttering slightly over her words.

Rhys’s lips split in a wide smile, the joyful one he reserves for the people and moments he loves the most. “I would love to make it smell like me for you, darling.”

He kissed Feyre’s lips gently, and wrapped his arms around her.

“My sweet, perfect, adorable omega. I love you.”

Feyre giggled, kissing him again. “My wonderful, strong, amazing alpha. I love you too.”

If this is what nesting got Feyre, the softest and sweetest side of Rhys for days, then she was fine with whatever else came after it.

[potatoplace]

Mutual Cycles

Feyre x Rhys

Written for ACOTAR Omegaverse Week: Day 7

Summary: Rhys has been irritated all day, but when he comes home he finds just the thing to fix that problem.

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: somnophilia, A/B/O dynamics, knotting, smut, Rhys being a simp for Feyre, not proofread lol

Author's Note: I wanted to get something out for the last day of omegaverse week, and I want to say thank you so much for the moderators of @acotar-omegaverse-week for hosting it! It's been so much fun to get back into writing and read all of the amazing fics coming out of it. I hope we have one again next year :)

18+ only

🩵💜🩵

Rhysand was seated at his desk, Keir standing in front of him, Cassian and Azriel flanking his chair. Keir was prattling on about some reason why the Darkbringer’s forces were not ready to be rallied. Rhys entertained two minutes of his excuses before cutting him off.

“I do not care what your reason is, Keir, you have already had three months to rally the Darkbringers. If you do not confirm for me that they are ready to fight within the week, I will gladly drag you down into the dungeons myself and let Mor have her way with you,” he growled, thoroughly incensed with his uncle, who looked surprised and afraid. Perfect.

This pathetic excuse for a male had annoyed him far too many times, perhaps he should just end his life now and save himself the headache of coming back down to this cursed court so soon.

One of Azriel’s shadows opened the door behind Keir, who gladly took the cue and scurried away. Cassian shut the door behind him, then turned to look at Rhys, a questioning look on his face.

Rhys let out an angry sigh, looking to his right at the Shadowsinger. “I wasn’t done with him yet, brother.”

Azriel quirked a brow at him. “Unless you decided that a week’s time is already up, yes, you were.” Rhys scowled at him.

“What’s wrong with you, brother?” Cassian asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Normally you let him go on for five minutes at the least.”

“Nothing,” Rhys sighed. “He just annoyed me faster than usual is all.”

“Maybe a training session would do you some good,” Cassian suggested. Rhys considered it for a moment, then inclined his head in agreement. “Az, will you be joining us as well?”

“No, I’m suspicious of Keir’s motives. I’ll stick around here for a bit longer.”

Rhys stood and walked around his desk, clapping his hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Just us then, brother. Let’s go,” he said, winnowing the two of them to above the House of Wind.

🩵💜🩵

An hour later, Cassian had banned Rhys from the training ring for the day, saying that he was only getting more temperamental with each round they fought.

Rhys had glared at him and flown away, heading for the town house. The chill winter wind did nothing to cool the pool of rage within in him, though.

The moment he hit the pavement outside the house, he could smell her. His mate, his sweet, delicious smelling omega.

He swung the door open and entered the house, looking around for her. This time of day, she was normally taking lunch in the garden or working on paperwork in as she ate. He glanced out of one of the window facing the garden, no Feyre.

He made quick work of checking the first floor, his mate nowhere to be found.

He took the stairs two at a time, needing to see her now. Her scent was stronger on this floor, and he took deep lungfuls of her intoxicating scent, lilacs and pears, so perfect and just for him.

He looked in his office, but his omega was not there. Rhys opened every door along the hallway leading to their bedroom, with no luck.

The last door he opened, he struck gold. His omega’s sweet scent was overwhelming, and there she was, laying on the bed underneath the covers. His little omega was sleeping, taking a short nap most likely.

Lucky for him to find her, ready and waiting to be devoured, the perfect water to soothe his fiery temperament.

He slipped the blankets off of her, revealing her soft body clad in a black satin nightgown, so short it almost gave him a peek of the treasure between her thighs.

He sank down onto the bed, parting her legs and placing himself between them. He took a few greedy breaths in, instantly feeling his anger cool. This. This was what he needed.

His omega’s pretty pink little cunt.

He licked slowly up the length of her, gathering some of the slick leaking from her on his tongue. Yes, this is exactly what he needed, and used his fingers to gently part her lips, lapping at her center. Her taste was divine, perfect, all he ever wanted to have on his tongue again.

His cock was straining against his trousers now, the base of it swelling slightly already, just from a few heavenly tastes of his omega’s pussy.

Feyre was stirring slightly, a soft whine escaping her lips when Rhys brushed his tongue against her clit. He rubbed soothing circles on one of her thighs as he sucked gently on the little bud, entranced by the way her rib cage was moving faster now, and her eyes fluttered open just as he used his other hand to push a digit into her.

“Alpha,” she whined, a hand grabbing his hair and pulled his face further against her, the sight of her mate between her legs nearly enough to finish her then. He obliged her, moving his finger slowly in and out of her, making sure to curl against the spot that he knew made sparks fly through her body, lapping at her clit. Her thighs clamped down around him as she came, slick pouring out her and right onto Rhys’s tongue.

He licked her clean before he moved up her body, placing a kiss on his omega’s lips as he misted their clothing, leaving nothing between them but the delicious brush of skin.

“Omega,” he purred, nosing her neck to the side and sucking on her neck. Feyre sighed, a soft, contented sound, and pressed a kiss to his neck, nuzzling into it. He bit down, causing Feyre to gasp and stiffen slightly before he sucked and lapped at it again, and Feyre went limp beneath him again.

His cock was throbbing at this point, leaking at the tip and his knot half formed. It brushed against Feyre’s thigh and he groaned into her neck, even just the feeling of his omega’s skin was cauldron blessed. He lined himself up with her weeping cunt, and pushed in in one stroke. Their breath caught in their throats, Feyre was not quite prepared for the stretch of his length, or the immediate press of his knot against her, and Rhys was overwhelmed by the feeling her walls hugging him so tightly.

He gave a few powerful strokes, relaxing his omega’s cunt before he pushed the base in roughly, and he loved the way his omega’s breathing was coming in small gasps.

“Omega,” he muttered against her neck again, his world consumed by her in this moment. Her scent, her presence, her cunt were all that occupied his mind as he rocked back and forth gently, a hand coming down to rub at the apex of her thighs.

He bit down on her neck again where the mating mark was, leaving a fresh new set of bite marks over it, and Feyre came again with a strangled cry, Rhys following right behind her, his knot inflating fully and sealing them together.

Feyre wrapped her arms and legs around him, needing to be as close to him as physically possible, even if they were already locked together for a good while.

Rhys rolled them to their sides, and slid a hand through her tangled hair. He took in her flushed face and watchful eyes. “I missed you, omega.”

“I missed you too, alpha.” She paused for a moment. “Are you in rut?”

Rhys furrowed his brow at her, confused by the question. Until he thought a bit about it, that would explain…

“That would explain why I wanted to kill Keir more than usual, I suppose. And why the moment I saw my mate’s pretty little pussy my knot started growing.”

Feyre blushed, her cunt clenching around him at his words, and both of them groaned. “Mm, that would make sense love. It would also make the fresh mating bite you gave me more logical. Not that I don’t love to refresh it every now and then,” she smirked.

Rhys let out a low laugh, knowing his mate would be covered in bite marks by the time his rut was over. “Good thing I have such a sweet omega, hmm?” Feyre’s cute little smile was enough to draw him in for a kiss. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Rhysie,” she replied, and this time it was his turn to blush.

“You always save that for the sweetest moments, love.”

“That’s because every moment with you is the sweetest, Rhysie,” she said lovingly with a smile on her lips. He wrinkled his nose as he smiled, kissing her again and pulling her body further into his, her head against his chest.

Her body was flushed, growing warmer with each minute they spent pressed together.

“Darling?”

Feyre nuzzled into his chest, not bothering to look up at him, knowing what he was going to ask.

“Are you in heat?”

She looked up at him, her face more flushed than before. “Yes, but only because your rut set it off.”

He laughed lowly, taking another kiss from her. “At least this way we’ll be miserably hot and turned on together, darling.”

She pressed her lips to his again before threading a hand through his hair. Feyre rocked her hips gently, testing how much she could move. Her body needed more of him already, even with him sealed inside of her.

“A whole week of uninterrupted time with my alpha?” Feyre’s smile was dazzling, her happiness overwhelming down the bond. “Count me in.”

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 8

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 7 | chapter 9 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, domestic arguments, slut shaming, mentions of gore (UTM arm stuff) body shaming, small mention of forced food restriction, this chapter is kinda painful, feylin smut, Ianthe

Words: ~5.2k

Author's Note: it's here! I'm very happy with this chapter- well. I'm sad about it cause poor Feyre 😭 it ended up being more brutal than I had imagined it would be?? So um. Yeah. I hate, hate, hate Ianthe. I hope you guys like the chapter!

18+ only pls

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre was dying.

She was sure of it. She had to be dying, with the overwhelming heat coming off of her and the immense pains in her abdomen.

Granted, Feyre’s thoughts had been very muddled lately, moments in time disappearing from her memory and nothing made sense.

Feyre had realized again that she was back in Spring, separated from her perfect nest she had made before. She wasn’t sure how many days had passed, how long she had been drifting in and out of sleep.

Ianthe visited her far too often, cramming food into Feyre’s mouth and commanding her to eat and plying her with tea that sent her back to sleep.

Tamlin had come to her four times.

Feyre knew that one for sure, she could vividly remember the instant relief she felt when the alpha had knotted her, each and every time.

She only wished it had happened more often.

Right now, Feyre had her hand between her thighs, desperately trying to find some sort of reprieve from the fire ravaging her flesh. She’d been in the same position, hips rocking when she could summon the energy. She wished she had her nightgown still, the one that smelled so perfect. But it had disappeared at some point when she was asleep.

Her bedroom door swung open, and Feyre managed to look towards it, hoping to scent her alpha-

But it was the rancid scent of Ianthe, wilting roses and dirt that got stuck in her nose for hours after she was left alone.

Feyre groaned, turning away from the alpha as quickly as she could manage.

“Feyre, we’ve talked about this. You need to eat, and you need to drink something,” Ianthe scolded. “Now, turn around omega.”

She fought the command as long as she could, but she was already so weak, so tired. Feyre rolled back to the alpha, grimacing as pain lanced through her.

Ianthe attempted to pry Feyre’s mouth open and place a piece of a sandwich inside, but Feyre wouldn’t budge.

The taste of her fingers were like ash, and Feyre nearly vomited, but she held her mouth closed, unwilling to eat the food she was offering. Every time she ate, it meant that Tamlin would not appear, and she needed his knot.

Feyre kept turning her head away from Ianthe’s chilled fingers, until finally the alpha huffed and stormed out of the room.

Finally. The scent of her would linger, but the intensity was already so much lesser…

Her right hand returned to between her thighs, slowly rubbing at the bundle of nerves there.

She wished she still had her nightgown, the one with her alpha’s scent… just the thought of it, so fresh and clean and intoxicating lessened the burning of her body for a moment, before kicking up to a level higher than before.

Feyre let out a wail, in so much pain that she could hardly breathe.

The door opened once more, and the scent of lilacs, cedar and earth filled Feyre’s senses. Or nearly what she needed, but it would do.

She took a few greedy lungfuls before turning her head to the door to watch Tamlin swing it shut.

“Alpha,” she groaned, and she wanted to present for him, if only she had the strength in her limbs to do so.

“Omega. Ianthe said you refuse to eat.” His voice was tense, verging on angry and Feyre cowered into herself, terrified that she made the alpha upset. “You need to eat, Feyre.”

“Pain,” Feyre whispered.

Tamlin gave her a pitying look before approaching her in her nest and sitting down next to her. “You hurt too much to eat, omega?” He asked, and Feyre nodded her head slightly. “Do you need alpha’s knot?”

Feyre moaned at that, the thought of being filled and locked to an alpha just what she needed. She let Tamlin pull the sheets from her body, prowling over her naked form. She was already leaking slick steadily, and he was able to push in in one slow thrust, stopping for a moment to let Feyre bask in the fullness.

Finally. Finally full again.

Feyre came quickly, her body overstimulated from the days on end need that flooded her. Her second came as Tamlin’s knot started to catch, so close to what she needs.

And then they were blissfully locked together, Tamlin’s seed coating her insides. I hope I have a baby, Feyre thought as Tamlin gently laid them on their sides, and arm wrapping around Feyre’s torso. Feyre sighed, the heat finally abating for the moment.

She had nearly nodded off to the calming sound of Tamlin’s breathing and steady heartbeat when his knot started to deflate, and he moved to pull away.

All tiredness left Feyre’s body, and she was flooded with instant panic as she quickly turned to wrap her arms around the alpha.

“Don’t leave, alpha, please don’t leave me,” Feyre cried pathetically, fat tears already pouring from her eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want please just don’t leave me, stay with me.”

Tamlin let out a heavy sigh. “Feyre, you know I have things to-”

“Alpha, please,” she wailed, grasping tighter to him when he tried to move.

Another sigh. “If you eat, omega, I will stay with you. But you need to eat and drink,” he commanded gently, and Feyre bobbed her head in agreement.

She still didn’t move.

“Omega, you need to sit back against the headboard to eat.” She let go of him with a pout on her face, but scooted back against the wall as he asked. Tamlin moved the tray that Ianthe had brought in onto the bed right in front of Feyre’s crossed legs. “Eat.”

Feyre sighed and picked up the sandwich, bland and ashy on her tongue. She choked it down as quickly as she could, then took the teacup that Tamlin was now offering her and drained that swiftly. Feyre placed the cup back on the tray, and turned her eyes on the alpha expectantly.

Tamlin moved the tray onto her nightstand and moved up the bed, taking Feyre in his arms. He pulled a blanket over them, a pale green and entirely too scratchy on Feyre’s sensitive skin, but it would have to do. Feyre snuggled into his hold, breathing in his scent and relaxing as she listened to his heartbeat.

Tamlin kept his word and stayed with Feyre throughout the night, knotting her a total of five times.

When she awoke for the final time, her mind felt clear once more. Her heat was nearly gone now, only a dull ache and mild fever after receiving the care and hormones she needed.

Tamlin stirred behind her, his arm tightening around her middle before pulling away entirely. Feyre rolled to follow his body, still not ready to be without her alpha.

“Tam? Where are you going?” Feyre asked softly as he stood up from the bed and began pulling his clothes on.

“I have a meeting to get to, Feyre. I’ll have Ianthe come and check on you soon,” Tamlin said stiffly, already fully clothed and walking towards the door. Anger bubbled in Feyre’s chest, overriding any sleepiness she had held onto.

“This isn’t fair!” Feyre yelled at his back. “You barely helped me during my heat, you haven’t marked me, you didn’t think to let me choose how to decorate my nest! It’s like you don’t even care about me anymore!”

Tamlin spun around faster than Feyre had seen him move in a long time, faster than at their wedding. “I’m the one who doesn’t care?!” He shouted back at her, his scent and face flooded with anger. “You couldn’t even make it down the aisle to me Feyre, how do you think that made me feel? And then you run off with him, when you were due for your heat any day!��

“You know that I had no control over-”

“You came home reeking of Rhysand! Lucien said you were clinging to him, like some desperate omega whore!” He spat at Feyre, and she shrank down into her bed.

“Get out,” Feyre whispered, pulling the blankets over her body tightly.

“Feyre, I didn’t-”

“Get out!” Feyre screamed, throwing a pillow at him as hard as she could. A moment later her door opened and slammed shut, rattling in its frame.

Tears streamed down Feyre’s face as she curled in on herself tightly, a pillow clutched to her chest.

Omega whore. That’s what she had been, hadn’t she? She had gone into Rhysand’s room, slept in his bed, ground against him…

Feyre sobbed. Everything Tamlin said was true. She was a horrible, horrible omega. She doesn’t deserve his mark, that’s probably why he hasn’t given it to her yet.

Hours passed, but Feyre stayed in the same position, tears constantly flowing down her face.

The thoughts wouldn’t leave.

Feyre stayed there until the sun had dipped below the horizon, after Ianthe had come to try and force her down to the dining room.

She finally moved to bathe. Her body felt disgusting after however many days she had spent in a heat soaked haze. The warmth of the water did little to warm her heart, which felt cold and brittle at the moment. Like she would shatter with one more vicious word from Tamlin.

Feyre stayed in there until her skin was pruney and the water had cooled, barely managing to wash herself with her limited energy. She dragged herself out, drying herself a bit before stumbling back into her bedroom.

Her nest was atrocious. She could see that now, after having built one exactly how she liked in the Night Court. It was filled with muted greens and browns, colors that she had felt safe wrapped in when she was a human- but now, now she needed vibrancy, a reminder that life is bright and joyful even when she doesn’t feel that way.

This nest, she hates.

Feyre ripped all of the blankets off, the pillows, the finally the sage green sheets, all of them tossed into the corner of her room. Feyre went through her closet and wardrobe, happening across a set of dusty pink sheets and a soft white cotton nightgown.

Better than nothing.

She pulled the nightgown over her head, then put the sheets on as fast as she could manage, feeling her exhaustion creeping back in after all of the movement. She slipped between them, relieved that these sheets seemed softer than the ones before. Feyre sighed, letting the tension leave her body with it as she curled in on herself again.

Omega whore.

Tears trailed down her face again as the insult echoed in her mind.

Finally, Feyre slipped into sleep.

Nightmares found her.

She was back under that mountain, trapped in a cell once more with her arm a broken, infected mess. This time, Tamlin came to see her.

“Does it hurt, omega?”

Feyre’s face scrunched at the title- “What?”

“Your arm,” he said, gesturing to it. Feyre looked down at it, saw the bone poking through skin. She nodded and looked back to him. “Good. Stupid omega whores like you deserve to be in pain.” Faster than she could see, his hand darted through the bars of her cell, fingers grabbing the bone protruding through her skin and pulled.

Feyre screamed, the pain worse than anything she had ever faced, but he didn’t let up. He grabbed her arms with his other hand and twisted, bones snapping further-

Feyre bolted out of bed, barely getting to the toilet in time to empty the contents of her stomach into it.

Knocks were coming from Feyre’s door, had been since she woke, and the door quickly opened after her retching started.

“Feyre, are you okay?” Lucien asked as he pulled her hair away from her face, a soothing hand on her back and she leaned on the bowl of the toilet for support.

“Nightmare,” Feyre whispered once she was certain her stomach was empty. She rinsed her mouth in the sink as thoroughly as she could. “What did you want?”

Lucien looked her up and down, taking in her pale, shaking frame. “I wanted to invite you out for breakfast in the gardens,” he suggested gently. “Tamlin…” Feyre shook harder at his name, and Lucien took her hands into his, the alpha’s scent of autumn leaves and crisp wind and calm soothing Feyre’s omega. “He told me what happened, your fight. I wanted to make sure you are okay, and offer you a way out of breakfast in the dining room if you wish.”

Feyre nodded her head. That sounded nice, better than dealing with Tamlin’s cruel words bouncing around in her head as he and Ianthe most likely ignored her. “I’d like that. Give me a moment to change?”

“Of course, Feyre. I’ll be waiting outside,” the redhead said with a soft smile. Feyre looked through her closet for something to wear-

All of the dresses were far too complex for her to put on herself. They required lacing in the back, both for the corset and the dress. She shuffled through everything, and happened across a few skirts and matching shirts- perfect. Feyre pulled out a pale pink set and quickly stripped herself of her nightgown and slid them on. The fabric was soft and flowy, and the skirt ended at her knees. The shirt had long sleeves that billowed slightly around her arm before coming in to a cuff at her wrists, and buttoned up the front.

How had she never worn this in the past year here?

Feyre knew the answer. She was rarely allowed to dress herself, let alone wake up on her own and not by the bustling of maids entering her room and prepping her for the day. She shook her head. She was allowed to today. Thank the Mother, Feyre didn’t think she could stand to be near Ianthe this early after such a horrible day and night yesterday.

Feyre made her way to the door, before she remembered to grab a pair of slippers to protect her feet. She opened the door, and found Lucien leaning against the wall opposite it. “Ready?” Feyre nodded. “Let’s go then, dear Feyre.” She took his extended arm gratefully, happy to have a calm, kind alpha near her to put her omega at ease. They walked slowly down the halls, as Feyre was still feeling exhausted from her heat and subsequent fight with her alpha.

Soon, they hit the front doors of the manor, the dining room only separated from them by the double glass doors. Feyre could hear the hum of Tamlin’s voice, Ianthe’s grating laughter. She tugged Lucien outside, not wanting to linger in case one of them decided to come to the door and drag her inside.

Lucien led her to a secluded spot in the garden, a table already set for their meal. Feyre was happy to note that there were no red roses in sight, something she was sure Lucien had planned for. Lucien pulled out a chair for Feyre, to which she shook her head but sat anyway.

“You know you don’t have to do that, I’m not lady, after all,” Feyre said as Lucien took his seat across from her.

“I know, Feyre, I just like to be nice and treat you as one,” he replied with a chuckle, and took the lids off of both of their plates. Feyre looked to hers, then at Lucien’s, and back to hers.

“Why do you get more bacon than me?”

Lucien snickered at her before he moved two more pieces of bacon to her plate from his, giving them an equal four each. “I didn’t plate the food, Feyre, otherwise I would have given you ten pieces, knowing how much you love bacon.”

Feyre’s plate was… sad, in her opinion. Two fried eggs, a slice of toast with a small amount of butter, the now four pieces of bacon, and a small bowl of fruit. She had forgotten how much smaller her portions were here, after being allowed to dish food out for herself as she liked. But at least Lucien was kind enough to sacrifice some of his bacon for her, that made a small smile on her face.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, though she could practically feel the questions rattling around in Lucien’s head. “Yes, Lucien?”

He sighed, setting his fork down. “Are you okay, Feyre?”

Feyre blinked at him. “I’m fine, Lucien. Pissed at Tamlin and exhausted, yes, but I’m fine. Why?”

Lucien’s eyes darted away from hers for a moment before meeting her blue orbs again. “You were very distressed when you came home, and I wanted to make sure that nothing…” he paused, searching for the right words. “If anything happened to you while you were away, Feyre, you can talk to me about it.”

Feyre stared at him. That’s what he was worried about? She couldn’t help but laugh at his suggestion. “Lucien, nothing bad happened to me in the Night Court, I promise you. Rhys was very proper once I went in to heat, he brought me here as soon as it started.” Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, and it was obvious to Feyre that this had been weighing heavily on him. “If he had had any ill intentions toward me, he could have kept me for the last day of the week that I owed him. But he didn’t, he brought me back here.” Feyre couldn’t help but defend Rhysand, he had been more attentive and caring to her in the five days she had been in his court than the entire last year in Spring. Lucien opened his mouth, but Feyre stopped him before he could disagree with her. “Lucien, I felt safe in his court. He and Mor were very kind to me, and never forced me to do anything while I was there.”

Lucien exhaled heavily, Feyre’s words not what he had been expecting. “I am glad that you were safe, Feyre. I do wish you weren’t bound to him, still. But it is good to hear that you are not in danger of being tortured.”

Feyre snorted. “The only torture I’ve been through is Rhys’s training, though even that was enjoyable.”

“Training?” Lucien asked warily.

“Yes…” Feyre paused, gauging his reaction. His mechanical eye was whirring, looking over Feyre’s form for any injuries. “He asked to help me train my mental shields and…”

“And?”

“And my magic,” Feyre added hesitantly.

“What magic, Feyre?” Lucien asked. “You haven’t shown any signs of magic over the past year, you know that.”

Feyre’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Yes I have, Lucien. Remember that god-awful dress Ianthe had tried to force me into? The one with red roses stitched all over the skirt of the dress?” Lucien nodded his head the memory coming back to him. “I set it on fire.”

“No, we decided that it had caught fire on the candle nearby, Feyre,” Lucien said as he shook his head.

“Lucien. It was me. The candle was several feet away from the dress. And the first signs of magic normally come in the beginning stages of life then fade, right?” He nodded his head again, confusion in his eyes. “And I was able to conjure wind in the Night Court after practicing, Lucien. Rhys thinks that I am close to my first magical expansion in my body, and that my magic is growing in at an accelerated pace after being Made.”

Lucien looked off to the side, deep in thought for a minute. “If that’s true, Feyre, then you do need training, and as much as possible. Uncontrolled magic is dangerous, especially once an expansion hits the body…” he trailed off.

“Will you talk to Tamlin about it? I would like to train when I’m home, as well. With Tamlin, if he’s willing,” Feyre asked cautiously. The last time she had asked to train in any way, Tamlin had exploded in anger, insisting that Feyre would never need to train, would never be in danger again.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Feyre… You remember how he was when you asked to learn to use a sword.”

“But that was a year ago, Lucien! Things have changed now, Rhys told me that Hybern is planning to go to war against Prythian. I should be training, you even said so!”

Lucien sighed. “Alright, Feyre. I’ll talk to him about it. But I can’t promise anything.”

Feyre breathed out, relieved that she had convinced him to try. “Thank you, Lucien.” He gave her a soft smile, one that she returned. “So… how many days was I in heat?”

“Nine days, Feyre.”

Nine? “What? But they’ve never lasted more than a week…”

“Tamlin was… well, he wasn’t in much of a state to help you, after you returned,” Lucien said cautiously, and his words lit a fire in Feyre’s chest. “You were crying out for your alpha, even when… even when Tamlin was holding you.” Heat moved to Feyre’s ears- had she really, truly been acting like an omega whore, just like Tamlin said? “It’s not your fault, Feyre, you were covered in Rhysand’s scent, and without Tamlin’s mark, well, most omegas normally latch on to the alpha they see when they first go into heat,” he added when he saw Feyre’s face fall.

“But- I don’t understand, why wouldn’t Tam help me?” Tears formed in her eyes, another layer of shame covering her.

“Tamlin was enraged that you had been near Rhysand in that state at all, he… he destroyed his study over the first few days.”

“But did he even stop to think about how much pain I was in? He stayed away long enough that my heat extended, Lucien!”

“He came to you in the end, Feyre. He’s trying, there’s just been a lot to adjust to in the past two weeks.” Feyre tried to let her anger go, she did. She knew that her leaving during their wedding ceremony would have consequences, just not to the degree that Tamlin would ignore her during her heat…

“I can’t… I can’t forgive him for that, Lucien. None of this was my choice, I should not be punished for a bargain that saved my life.”

“I know, Feyre, I know. Please, just give him a bit of time. The two of you can cool down and talk about this when you’re ready.” Feyre nodded her head in agreement after a moment. She would be giving him a wide berth for the next few days- she didn’t think she could see him and not hear the words he spat at her yesterday. Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, happy to have gotten Feyre to agree. “So, besides the training, how was the rest of your time?” Lucien asked curiously.

“Well… I started drawing again… the view from my bedroom was so magnificent, I couldn’t help but start again,” Feyre said softly, thinking about the many sunrises and sunsets she had seen over that beautiful mountain range.

“Feyre, that’s amazing!” Lucien congratulated, taking one of her hands in his. “So you were truly comfortable there?”

Feyre nodded her head. “Yes, it was a nice experience, actually. Which did surprise me. But Mor, she brought me some catalogs to shop from if I wanted, and…” Feyre paused, not sure if she was willing to share the information, but she was excited enough that she couldn’t stop. “They let me pick out whatever I wanted for my nest, and it turned out… I had never realized that I was supposed to feel completely relaxed in my nest, fully safe. But when I made one there… it was perfect,” Feyre gushed, remembering the soft feel of fabrics between her fingers, the beautiful colors surrounding her bed. When she finally looked at Lucien’s face again, his eyes had softened significantly.

“I’m happy for you, Feyre. It’s beautiful when an omega finally creates their perfect nest for themselves. Is that why you fought with Tamlin…?” He asked cautiously, and Feyre sighed again.

“Partially. I feel like my needs as an omega have been… pushed aside, deemed less important. And I feel like, if I don’t get them met soon, that…” she stopped mid sentence, unable to finish her thought.

“That you’ll collapse in on yourself?” Lucien offered, and Feyre nodded in agreement.

“Exactly. I’m still not fully used to having all of these new urges and desires, and I’ve been relying on all of you to tell me what I need. But in the Night Court… they actually offered it to me, put my omega at ease. Do you know where I’m coming from?” Feyre asked Lucien, tears building in her eyes.

“I do, Feyre, I do. I’ll talk to Tamlin about it, try to get through to him for you. You don’t deserve to be miserable in your new designation. And I’m sorry, that we didn’t help you before,” Lucien said softly, rubbing slow, soothing circles on the back of her hand.

“Thank you, Lucien. I just want to feel safe, cared for-”

“Hello, you two,” came a cheery voice from behind Feyre, but dread filled her stomach as she turned to look at the intruder. Ianthe, dressed in her priestess robes as usual. “I came to grab Feyre from you, we have a lot of preparations to get through for the new ceremony,” Ianthe said, extending a hand for Feyre to take.

Feyre stayed seated, unwilling to follow the alpha anywhere. After all, she was the reason the first ceremony was interrupted.

“Feyre, get up right now,” the alpha commanded harshly, and Feyre’s body followed the order instantly, much to her dismay. “Good girl, now come with me.” Feyre placed her hand on Ianthe’s arm and let the alpha lead her back into the manor, away from the kind aura of Lucien. “We need to get you measured for a new gown, I’m sure those heathens in the Night Court ripped it shreds and burned it,” Ianthe spat, dragging Feyre into sitting room where she had spent the majority of her time over the past year.

Ianthe clicked her tongue and a maid entered, measuring tape and full length mirror in hand.

“Do we really need to take new measurements?” Feyre asked. “I’m sure that I am the same size as I was a week ago, Ianthe.”

Ianthe sucked in breath. “I’m not so sure about that, Feyre. How much did food did you shovel into your face?” She asked, a venomous edge to her words. She guided Feyre in front of the mirror and stripped her of her clothes. “See that?” Ianthe asked as she pinched the skin covering Feyre’s stomach. “That’s fat, you silly little omega. You had to have eaten your weight in food there, Feyre.” She gave her a sickeningly sweet smile before pinching the skin on her thighs as well. “Next time, omega, show some restrain, hmm?”

Ianthe snapped her fingers, and maid came over to Feyre and began measuring every part of her body. Ianthe would huff after one, telling Feyre how much she had grown in each area. By the end of it, Feyre was holding back her tears, and could barely look at her reflection in the mirror.

She had thought her body was finally taking shape how it should have over the past year- but she was wrong. Feyre could hardly stand to see the fat hanging off of her, every movement causing it to jiggle slightly.

When Ianthe finally handed Feyre her clothes back, she put them on as quickly as she could, wishing for once that she was hidden beneath one of the ridiculously poofy dresses Ianthe liked to clothe her in.

Ianthe led her to the couches, where a tray of tea was waiting for them, kept warm in the enchanted teacups that Ianthe favored. She encouraged her to drink, so Feyre did, if only to keep the peace. Yea with Ianthe normally ended with Feyre being dreadfully tired, normally retiring to her room for a few hours of napping until dinner.

Ianthe waited for Feyre to finish her entire teacup, and then poured her another from the pot before speaking.

“Now that the… disappointment is over, Feyre, we can begin to work on the theming for the wedding. Again,” Ianthe added, anger lacing her tone. “The ceremony will be in four months. I believe that a lovely, tradition Spring Court wedding is still the way to go, what about you, Feyre?”

Feyre knew it was a trap, knew that anything beyond what Ianthe suggested would simply not do. But she couldn’t help it.

“Could we theme it to the season we’re in? We would be in Winter, by the time four months pass.” A winter wedding would be lovely, Feyre thought. She could almost see it, trees covered in glistening white snow, snow falling over a beautiful wooden archway as she walked down the aisle to Tamlin, using the season that almost killed her to bring to life the beautiful promise of forever that they would make to each other.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Feyre. Tamlin is the High Lord of Spring, he cannot have a Winter wedding.” Ianthe shook her head at Feyre, eyes narrowing heatedly at her. “Spring it is. Any requests for flowers? Roses, of course, will be included, it would be a waste to not include the former Lady’s lovely rose gardens after all.”

“Anything but red-”

“Feyre. It is foolish to ban a color such as red from a Spring wedding that includes roses!” Ianthe hissed at her, her scenting flooding with anger.

But Feyre was angrier. “I do not care, Ianthe, I will not have another panic attack at my own wedding!” Feyre screeched at her, nearly ready to rip her claws into Ianthe’s stupidly pretty face. “This is my wedding as well as Tamlin’s, you would be best to remember that.” Feyre had a growl building in her throat, until she locked eyes with the now fuming alpha.

“And you, Feyre, would be best to remember that you are lucky that Tamlin still wishes to marry you, after the stunt you pulled two weeks ago. And running away with another alpha, at that! Omega whore is right,” Ianthe spat at Feyre before standing from her chair and sweeping out of the room dramatically.

As soon as Feyre could no longer hear her footsteps, she made her way to her room as quickly as she could, choking back tears the entire way.

She reached her door, opening quickly and shutting it softly behind her before sliding down it, tears flowing from her eyes.

Too much, all of this is too much.

Feyre crawled to the bed, hoisting herself onto the mattress after a few tries. She curled up underneath the sheet, holding her legs to her chest as she slowly cried herself to sleep, sunshine still pouring through the windows of her bedroom.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @homeslices

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 7

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 6 | chapter 8 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, light smut, not proofread

Words: ~5.4k

Author's Note: here it is!! I am so damn excited for this chapter, it is probably my favorite in this series so far. Poor sweet Feyre, so ruled by her omega... also I miight have had 'guilty as sin?' Playing on repeat for the last 2k words hehe 🤭 I hope you guys all enjoy this chapter!!

18+ only pls

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The sun was shining brightly when a noise pulled Feyre from her dreams.

“Feyre?” It was Mor. “Feyre, wake up, we brought breakfast.” There were footsteps and the sound of someone rustling through her wardrobe, then something soft hit Feyre in the face.

Feyre bolted upright, eyes wide as she stared at the Alpha- her citrus and cinnamon scent was overwhelming and delicious, so much so that Feyre was tempted to drag her straight into her nest.

“We?”

“Yes,” Mor smiled. “Rhys is waiting outside, he wanted me to check and ensure that you’re decent and comfortable with him coming in here. So, are you?”

Feyre put on the dressing gown that Mor had thrown on her, coincidentally it matched her nightgown and long socks, then loudly stated “Yes, you can come in Rhys.”

Rhysand entered the room with a smile, a tray overloaded with food in his arms. He set it down on the table, then began scooting it over to the edge of Feyre’s nest and moved the two chairs as well.

His scent flooded Feyre’s nose, the salt water and citrus scent was so refreshing, and Feyre nearly dragged him into her nest, the urge even stronger than when she had scented Mor. Feyre had already scooted towards the edge of the bed closest to the alpha without even realizing it, and stopped once it registered in her brain.

Feyre. Get a hold of yourself, she mentally scolded, and tried her best to breathe in the smell of the food rather than the two wonderfully scented alphas seated in front of her.

Mor took a seat and began dishing out food for herself while Rhysand plated everything for himself and Feyre. There were scrambled eggs with diced potatoes, onions, peppers and small slices of sausage, pieces of toast accompanied by pots of jam, and bowl filled with chunks melons and orange slices.

Rhysand stood at the outside edge of Feyre’s nest, plate in hand, but didn’t move to pass it to her, instead asking “Is it alright if I hand it to you, Feyre?”

Again with the level of politeness and care towards her nest that she had never been given back home. “Yes, that’s fine Rhys.” He handed her the plate, then a napkin and fork before sitting down. “Thank you, Rhys.”

“You’re welcome, Feyre darling,” He said with his soft smile, the one that Feyre though made his face most beautiful. Though she would never tell him that, it would inflate his ego far too much.

“We can skip training today, if you’d like.” The offer came are a few comfortable minutes of silence while they ate.

“Why would I skip training?” Feyre asked. She feels fine, though she would protest if she had to leave her nest at all.

“I just thought I would offer, is all. And practicing in here is no issue, either.”

Feyre bobbed her head, happy to have that confirmed again.

“So Feyre, was there anything you thought of during the night that was missing?” Mor asked, her eyes tracking Feyre’s movements, every lift of her fork to her mouth and its descent back to her plate. Feyre looked around at her nest, she hadn’t even thought to wonder if she was missing something, it had felt so instantly perfect.

“No, I think… I think it’s perfect the way it is,” she said softly, a hand gripping the fine silks beneath her. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to choose everything to build my nest,” Feyre admitted, turning her eyes back to the alphas, who were staring at her with shock in their eyes and mouth agape. “What?” Her voice held panic, worried that her nest had offended them, that it wasn’t perfect in their eyes.

“No, it’s nothing Feyre, that you’ve done. It’s just…” Mor started.

“Most omegas, especially the Lady of a court, are given and abundance of fabrics to choose from for their nests. Omegas are rare, and their nesting process is sacred,” Rhysand explained. “If an omega does not feel fully comfortable in her nest, it is unlikely their heat will be fully satisfied even after it ends, and it makes the probability of conceiving even lower than it already is. It’s just… it was odd, to hear that you have not been given this opportunity before.” His voice was gentle, full of his alpha tone to keep Feyre calm as she heard and processed the information.

“I… I didn’t know,” Feyre whispered, tears filling her eyes. She pushed her half eaten plate of food off of her lap and onto the bed, then grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and buried her face in it.

“Hey, Feyre, it’s alright,” Mor soothed. She whispered something in a harsh tone before she spoke to Feyre once more. “I’m sure it’s just because the Spring Court was decimated over the past fifty years, there might be a shortage of the fabrics right now, sweetie.”

Feyre was still leaking tears onto the pillow, her breathing uneven.

“Feyre, it’s okay. You have a perfect nest right here, right now. We can even send you home with all of the fabrics if you’d like, that way you can have your perfect nest at home,” Rhysand offered, his voice so soothing and alpha and the thought of having her nest like this all the time was perfect.

Feyre leapt out of her bed and into his lap, tears staining his shirt as she curled up in his arms and sobbed. She breathed in his scent, unconsciously tilting her nose towards the scent gland in his neck. One of his hands started running through her hair and down her back, the gesture so comforting that Feyre sobbed harder.

Why wasn’t Tamlin like this with her? Why couldn’t he comfort her and teach her what she needed to know about her new biological needs?

Rhysand gave her a few minutes to calm down, his scent and touch quieting the outrage of the omega in her chest. She sniffled a few times before finally turning her face away from his chest, peering up at the alpha holding her.

“Sweet omega.” Her heart skipped a beat at his low voice, and her hand tightened its grip on his shirt. “You need to finish your breakfast, darling. Then we can do some magic training f you still feel up to it.”

Feyre bit her lip. She was embarrassed, yes, that she had crawled into Rhysand’s lap and cried like a child, but she hadn’t felt so safe and taken care of as she did now in such a long time. She didn’t move, hand still clutching Rhysand’s black silk shirt, right above his heart. She couldn’t move, if she was being honest. Her omega instincts had her rooted her, kept in the warm embrace of the alpha who had shown so much care to her over the past four days.

A very, very quiet purr left Feyre’s chest.

That had her bolting out of his arms and back to her spot on the bed, eagerly finishing off the rest of her breakfast as Mor and Rhysand shared a look that she missed.

“Well, Feyre, if there is anything that you think of that you would like for your nest here, or even duplicates of everything for you to take back to Spring, just let me know,” Mor proposed as she stood from the table. “And would it be alright for me to pick out things that I think you would like, if I happen across them while doing my own shopping?” Mor asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

Feyre nodded her head- having someone pick out things that they think would fit Feyre’s taste would be nice. “I would love that, Mor. Just don’t go too overboard,” Feyre warned with humor in her voice.

“Oh, I won’t Feyre. They will be things that scream your name rather than just remind me of you. And it helps that I know what you like, since we went shopping together already.” Mor was over by her bedroom door now, hand on the doorknob.

Feyre gave her a warm smile. “That is true, you know what colors I like and the fabrics I can’t stand.”

“Yes I do, Feyre. I’ll see the both of you later for dinner.”

And then Feyre was alone with Rhysand.

She finished off the rest of her food, and Rhysand made the dishes disappear once she was.

“Do you feel up for training still, Feyre?”

“Yes, I should be able to manage,” Feyre confirmed, already building up the shields in her mind.

“Alright, we will only be doing magic training today, I would like to save shielding for our next week, though I expect you to still practice on your own, is that clear?” Feyre nodded. “Good. Next month we will begin working on having your shielding stamina raised, so that you can eventually have them active at all times. That means that I will be attempting to break into your mind, as gently as I can, at random points throughout the day to make sure you’re keeping them active.”

“Okay, so over the next month I should attempt to keep them active at all times?”

“Yes, that would be perfect, Feyre.” He flashed her a smile, and Feyre couldn’t help but give him one in return.

Something was definitely off with her, today. Though it was her first time nesting in a place other than Spring, and she had learned some… uncomfortable truths about the world that had not yet been shared with her by her actual family. Feyre would just chalk it up to the nesting.

“For today, we will continue with your magical training, and the stretching of your core. When you’re ready, Feyre.”

Feyre closed her eyes and concentrated on that cold mass of power in her chest. It was already more active than it was the day before, it seemed to Feyre that the training was waking it up gradually.

She stretched it as far as it would allow, through the joints of her shoulders this time. When it snapped back, she attempted to hold it, and managed to keep it slightly expanded with some effort.

Her breathing was hard when she opened her eyes, locking them with Rhysand’s. Her lips broke into a grin, even as she was struggling to keep the power in place. “I’ve got it expanded slightly!” She exclaimed, proud of her efforts.

“That’s wonderful, Feyre, try to let it go slowly, rather than snapping back to its original form. Adding that into your training regime will help you gain more control over your magic and make it more reliable in tough situations.”

Feyre did as he said, letting her power relax slowly back into its original shape and took a moment to catch her breath.

She was sweating already, her sleep clothes dampened with it, but she didn’t care.

Feyre was learning.

They spent the next three hours working on expanding Feyre’s core out to her fingertips and releasing it slowly, when Feyre hit a new milestone.

Her power was stretched so, so taut as it neared her fingertips. Feyre was hardly breathing as she concentrated so intensely on pushing it further, managing to coat her fingers in the viscous magic.

And then it happened.

A slight breeze swept through the room, rustling Feyre and Rhysand’s hair as it did so, and Feyre magic snapped back into her chest so quickly Feyre recoiled back into the bed, falling onto her back.

“Feyre, are you alright?!” Rhysand asked fretfully, standing at the edge of her nest and peering at her.

Feyre merely giggled and launched herself back up and into Rhysand’s arms. “Rhys! I did it! I used magic!” She exclaimed, hugging him tightly in her arms. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her for a brief moment, before pulling away to look at her beaming face.

“You did, Feyre. You have done so perfectly, so wonderfully and I am so proud of you,” Rhysand gushed, and Feyre could feel it in her bones how sincere he was being.

“Thank you, Rhys.” It was then that Feyre remembered how unclothed she was, wrapped only in a dressing gown over her socks and nightgown, and she stepped away from him and back onto the fabric of her nest.

“You’ve earned it, Feyre. Now, I think we should call it a day, if you’d like I can go get us some lunch while you wash up?” He offered.

“I’d like that, thank you Rhys.” Rhysand left the room, leaving Feyre behind to bathe.

She reluctantly left the area of her nest, stripping off her clothes and tossing them into the laundry bin in her bathroom. She submerged herself into the bathing pool and looked out at the mountains in front of her. It was snowing today, a layer of white covering even the valley below, and Feyre couldn’t help but gaze at it in awe.

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed snowfall over the past year. While it had signified death to her as a human, now it was just a beautiful feature of the weather, something that quieted the land around her. Everything seemed more peaceful with the snow falling.

Feyre sighed, longing to capture the landscape on a canvas. Instead, she washed her hair and body quickly, not wanting Rhysand to return while she was still naked in the bath. She got out and wrapped her hair in one towel and her body in another and went to her wardrobe. Feyre dressed in a pair of black leggings and a knit sweater again, this time the sweater in a dark purple that was nearly black. She had slipped on a pair of socks right as a knock came on her door, and Feyre padded over to it.

She opened the door, revealing Rhysand carrying a tray holding two grilled sandwiches and two small bowls of salad. “Come in,” Feyre said, opening the door for him.

He placed the tray on the table once more, and handed one of the plates and bowls to Feyre after she had settled down in her nest. The sandwich had chicken, tomato slices, cheese, and some type of green sauce, which initially threw Feyre off until she smelled the sandwich, the basil and garlic scent was divine.

They ate in silence, Feyre too tired to make conversation and Rhysand lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Feyre questioned after a few minutes of Rhysand’s face being slightly scrunched up.

His eyes met hers, intense violet crashing against stormy blue. “I am wondering why you have been kept in the dark on omega and alpha customs. Nothing against you, of course, I’m just… curious as to why.”

Feyre sighed. “I am… wondering that as well. It seems as though every day here I learn something new that I feel I should have known a year ago.”

“No matter the reason or timing, I am glad that you are able to learn now, Feyre. It is… a very important change in your life, and you deserve to have all of the information you can.”

“Thank you, Rhys.” Feyre gave him a soft smile.

“Well, now that we’re done eating, I’ve got to be off,” Rhysand said as he stood up, vanishing the dishes. “I have a few meetings to attend, but I should be back in time for dinner, Feyre. Are you still wanting to take your meals in here?”

“Yes,” Feyre confirmed. “I don’t think I could be comfortable out of my room, tonight…”

“That is no problem, Feyre. I will see you in a few hours.”

He walked to the door, opening it before Feyre voice made him pause.

“Thank you, Rhys. For everything.”

He looked back at her and flashed her a brilliant grin. “You’re welcome, Feyre darling.” He shut the door behind him, leaving Feyre alone in her bedroom.

Already, she was missing the comforting scent of an alpha filling her senses. Feyre grabbed the romance novel she has been reading from the nightstand and curled in her body pillow. She tugged the blankets up around her body, getting as comfortable as she could before she began to read.

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Feyre had nearly finished the book by the time Mor and Rhysand arrived at her bedroom door again, and it swung open to reveal the two gorgeous alphas on the other side, scents flooding Feyre’s vicinity along with whatever delicious food they had brought with them.

The food was placed on the table, a bowl of… something placed in Feyre’s hands by Rhysand after he got permission to hand it to her. He also give her a small bowl of crackers.

The food in the bowl was made of minced beef, beans, and onions and was very thick, thicker than a stew. Rhysand and Mor were already crushing crackers over their bowls, and Feyre followed suit.

When she took the first bite, she was blown away by the flavor and how comforting the dish was, the extra taste of the crackers only adding to it.

Rhysand and Mor were talking to each other, but Feyre could hardly pay attention to the words they were saying. Between their overwhelming scents and the delicious food, her thoughts were muddled and it was all she could do to keep quietly eating her dinner.

When Feyre finally came to the present again, Mor was already gone, and Rhysand was vanishing their dishes away, Feyre’s included as she had finished her food minutes ago without realizing.

“Are you doing alright, Feyre?” He asked sweetly, and Feyre looked up at him. She nodded without thinking, not having heard anything but her name. “Alright, if you’re sure. I’m going to head to bed, I suggest you do the same, Feyre. You worked hard today.”

Feyre’s cheeks heated at the praise and she bit her lip while staring at him, mind blank. He moved to the door, and Feyre tracked his path.

“Go to sleep, omega,” he commanded in his alpha tone as he shut the door behind him, taking his scent with him.

A whine built in Feyre’s throat, but she suppressed it before it could escape her. The command hung heavy in her mind, and she quickly went to the wardrobe to change into sleepwear. A nightgown similar to the pink one she had worn a few nights ago caught her eye, this time in a rich amethyst. Feyre plucked it off its hanger and slid it onto her body, loving the way the fabric slipped down her like water. The flowing skirt of the nightgown called to Feyre, and she did a few small spins to see the way it moved around her, fascinated by it.

But the command pressed into her bones, her omega calling her to her nest. She slunk over to it, crawling between the many blankets and swaths of fabric covering bed. Feyre pulled the violet body pillow into her body, pinning it between her legs and clutching it in her arms. Her hips rocked gently against the pillow before she finally settled, letting out a deep breath and allowing sleep to claim her.

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The heat was unbearable, so much so that Feyre woke in the middle of the night, legs still clenched around the pillow and hips rocking against it, searching for friction. Without thinking, a hand slipped down to her clothed cunt, pressing against it in an attempt to ease the ache that was building.

A whine left her lips, desperate and wanting.

Her nest was missing something.

Feyre dragged herself out of her nest, into the hallway. A smell caught in her nose, musky and perfect and alpha.

Alpha. That’s what I need.

Feyre began following the scent, pausing her journey only when cramps overtook her ability to walk. She let out another whine, she needs her alpha now.

The scent grew thicker with each step she took, until she reached a door. Her alpha must be in there.

Feyre turned the doorknob, stumbling into the room and falling to her knees as the delicious scent of her alpha overtook her. She sucked in a few deep breaths before standing again.

Bed. Need to get to the bed.

Feyre clumsily made her way to the large bed covered in black sheets and an alpha between them, shaking like a newborn fawn as another cramp rips through her abdomen. She makes it, lifting the sheet and slipping underneath.

His scent is so strong here, and she pressed herself against his chest as close as she could be. The cramps slowly come to a stop as she breathes in greedy lungfuls of his citrus and salt scent straight from his scent gland, her nose brushing against it.

Her alpha stirs when she scrapes her teeth against his neck, taking in a sharp breath.

“Feyre?” Her name rumbled through his chest so perfectly that Feyre started to purr, only nuzzling further into his neck. “Omega, what are you doing in here?”

Feyre moans at her title coming from his lips, the sweetest it had ever sounded in her ears. “Alpha,” she whined into his skin.

Her alpha attempted to pull away from her, so Feyre latched onto him, a leg swinging over his own and arms wrapping as far as she could around his chest. He loosed a sigh, and Feyre stopped purring.

Have I upset alpha?

“No, omega, you’ve done nothing wrong. Just… you should not be in here…”

Tears pricked at her eyes, and a whine dragged itself out of her lungs, prompting her alpha’s arms to wrap around her and pull her in, which instantly quieted her and put a smile on her face. “Alpha,” Feyre sighed, relaxing into his strong arms holding her.

“Alright, omega, you can stay in here until morning. But after that I need to take you back home, alright?” Feyre whined again, stopping once her alpha’s hand stroked along her scalp and down her spine. “Shh, pretty omega. Be a good little omega and go to sleep, okay?” Her alpha commanded gently, and Feyre was helpless against his words, immediately sinking back into the honeyed dreamscape she had awoken from.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The sun had barely risen when Feyre woke again, the cramping in her abdomen and heat blazing through her to painful to sleep through. Her alpha was behind her, her back pressed tightly to his chest and his arms caging her in, making it impossible to move anything but her lower half.

She lowered her nose to his hands, breathing in deeply to scent him as best as she could in this position. Instantly, slick gushed out of her, wetting her nightgown even further than it had in the night.

Feyre wiggled her hips, searching for any kind of friction when she felt it- pressed against her rear was her alpha’s cock, hard and already slightly swollen at the base, a promising feeling to Feyre as her cunt clenched, wanting nothing more than to have it inside of her, filling her up with his seed and locking them together with his knot.

She pressed harder against him, angling her hips so that her pussy lips were aligned with his length, moaning loudly when she got the perfect amount of friction to lessen the heat flooding her veins.

Her alpha’s breathing quickened and arms tightened around her for a moment.

“Feyre?” His sleepy voice asked. “What are you-?” He paused, taking a deep breath in to scent her even as Feyre’s hips kept moving against his, she was nearly there-

“Fuck, Feyre, I need to get you home.” Her alpha disentangled himself from her, and she cried out at the lack of contact, heat instantly building inside of her again as she moved her hand down to the apex of her thighs.

Tears were streaming down her face as her pleasure sputtered out, even with her hand moving as quickly as she could manage. “Alpha please,” she cried.

Her alpha returned, pulling her into his arms and she sighed, burying her face in his neck.

“What happened?” Came a female alpha’s voice.

“She went into heat and snuck into my room, I thought she would be fine for a few hours so I could take her back at a reasonable hour, but-”

“But you were wrong, Rhys. There’s a reason her heat came on faster than normal, you know that, so why did you take the chance?!” The other alpha asked angrily. “What would you have done if you lost control, if you had claimed her right now?”

A growl ripped through her Alpha’s chest, and Feyre groaned against his throat. “I didn’t, Mor. Now are you coming with me or not?”

“Fine.”

Feyre kissed and licked at her alpha’s neck as they slipped through the fabric of the world, Feyre hardly noticing the sensation as her mind wrapped around the taste of her alpha. “Perfect,” she breathed against his skin.

“Fuck, what did you do to her?” Came a third alpha’s voice, uneven as he ran up to them.

“Nothing, Lucien. Feyre went in to heat in the middle of the night,” her alpha explained. He tried to loosen his grip on Feyre’s body, but she clung harder to him, lips latching onto his throat as she sucked on it, wanting to leave a mark-

Mark.

Feyre bared her throat to her Alpha, whining to get his attention while he argued with the new alpha.

“Fuck, give her to me.” Her alpha’s arms loosened, and someone’s hands pried hers apart.

“No!” Feyre yelled, attempting to lace her arms around his neck again, even as her body was being passed into the third alpha’s arms. “Alpha please,” Feyre wailed, tears falling freely as she lost her grip on him.

“Feyre, it’s going to be fine, Tam will be here in a moment,” the alpha who grabbed her said, attempting to soothe her, but it only made her more incoherent.

“Alpha,” she cried again, eyes opening to search for him- but he and the female alpha were gone. She sobbed harder, writhing in the alpha’s arms.

“What the fuck happened, Lucien?!” A booming voice yelled, and Feyre cowered into the male’s arms, hiding her face in his neck.

“I don’t know, they said she went into heat during the night, but that’s all I know.”

Feyre was passed to another set of arms, and she curled into them. But it wasn’t right- they didn’t feel solid enough, the scent was all wrong- earthy lilac and cedar, not the perfect soothing blend of salt and citrus that she needed. Feyre bawled harder, turning her face away from the alpha’s chest.

“Why is she crying so much?” The voice was too loud, too angry against Feyre’s ears and she pushed against the chest of the person holding her.

“I…I’m not sure, she’s been crying ever since she was handed over to me.”

“Mother above, she fucking reeks.” A female alpha, different than the one before. This one’s voice grated against her ears, sending more tears cascading down her face. “We need to question her, while the memories are fresh.”

“Are you serious, Ianthe? She is in the middle of her heat, she is in no state to-”

“While the memories are fresh.” The alpha carrying her took off quickly, and in a minute Feyre was being dumped into a hard wooden chair. “Feyre.” She turned her head into her hair, sobbing harder with the loss of contact as her heat built further, becoming even more unbearable than it had been in the wrong alpha’s arms.

“Omega.” The commanding tone had her peeking up, meeting green eyes with her watery blue. “Tell us the layout of where you were staying, and any information that you learned. Now,” he commanded.

Feyre merely cried more, fat arms rolling down her cheeks and onto her neck, wetting the amethyst of her nightgown further.

“She is obviously not going to be able to tell us anything useful in this state, Tamlin.”

“Shut up, Lucien,” he snarled. “If you tell me, as soon as you’re finished I’ll take you upstairs and give you my knot, alright omega?”

The promise of a knot had Feyre wracking her brain for answers, anything to get the relief that she needs, even if it isn’t from the right alpha.

“I… what?”

He repeated the question, slowly, as if she were a child.

She did her best to give him the layout, her mind hazy with arousal and pain as she struggled to summon anything of use.

“That’s really all you have to give us?” The female asked in a condescending tone. “You spent a week there and all you can give us is a vague layout? Fucking useless,” she scoffed, walking away and slamming her door behind her.

The green eyes alpha made to follow her before Feyre cried out a soft “Alpha.” He looked back at, then snarled.

“You smell horrid, omega. Take a bath, I might give you my knot then.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so roughly that one of the hinges broke.

Feyre sobbed, collapsing into the table in front of her.

“Sweet omega.” The one alpha left in the room approached her slowly. “Can I pick you up?” Feyre cried harder but nodded, allowing the alpha to secure her in his arms and take her away from the room.

A few minutes later he set her down on something squishy, and she collapsed back into it.

“Omega, you should take a bath and change, I’ll send your alpha in in a little bit, okay?” The alpha suggested gently, wiping hair out of Feyre’s face. “I’ll make sure you have some time to make your nest, okay?” Feyre nodded her head, not quite sure she had understood him, but she got she got the main gist of it.

Bathe. Change. Nest. Alpha.

The alpha left the room, and Feyre was alone. She dragged her tired body off of her bed and into her bathing room, turning on the tap to fill the bath with cold water. She took off her nightgown, scenting it before she tossed it into the laundry bin.

Alpha. Feyre moaned. Her alpha’s scent was still all over it, and Feyre pressed the dress to her nose, quickly working her clit as slick spilled from her center. She came with a loud moan, the scent of her alpha ingrained in her mind.

Feyre hid the dress in one of the counter drawers, wanting to keep the scent of her alpha around as long as possible.

She slipped into the tub, her orgasm and the cold water soothing the heat bubbling within her down to a low simmer. Feyre lasted only a few minutes in the water before she was pulling herself out, the water heated too much for her to bear any longer.

She dragged herself into her bedroom and grabbed the thinnest nightgown she could find before dragging herself into her bed. Feyre tried arranging the nest to her liking, she truly did, but nothing compared to the perfect nest she had already made.

This one was… horrible. Absolutely horrible. None of the lovely pinks and blue and purples, but dull greens and cream colored linens.

Feyre burst into tears just as her bedroom door opened.

“Oh, now, now, omega. I brought you tea just like you like, Tamlin is busy with some things that are more important than you, I’m afraid,” the fable alpha said as she made her way into Feyre’s bedroom, sitting down in her nest and placing the tray of tea on it as well.

Something in Feyre protested, a growl building in her throat.

“None of that, you foolish omega. Drink your tea, Tamlin will be up to see you whenever he is able to manage.” The alpha shoved a teacup into Feyre’s hands. “Drink,” she commanded.

Feyre had no choice but to obey, drinking down the scalding liquid that burned her insides as it went down.

“I’ll check up on you in a few hours, but don’t even think of leaving your room. You won’t get far in this pitiful state anyway,” the alpha tacked on, a vicious grin on her face as she glared down at Feyre. She took the tray and breezed out of Feyre’s room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Bone deep exhaustion hit Feyre, and in a few moments she was deep in sleep.

Series taglist: @icey--stars

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - chapter 1

Feyre x Tamlin, eventual Feyre x Rhys

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Series Masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Words: ~1.3k

Warnings: smut, A/B/O dynamics/knotting

Author’s note: sooo it’s my first time writing in quite a bit. Like. Years. Also my first time writing smut, so apologies if it’s bad. But @acotar-omegaverse-week got me in the mood to write again finally, and tbh I’ve loved a/b/o for a long time and it’s just. Perfect in acotar. So yeah. Not written for any particular day, Written for day 2: turning up the heat, and just setting up the story a bit in this. Also I wrote this in one sitting and haven’t proofread… oops… and don’t know where exactly this is going.

18+ only

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Feyre was upset. But she didn’t know why.

She had gone into heat for the first time nine months ago. In the days leading up to it, she hadn’t felt safe sleeping in such an open space, so she had created fluffy mound of pillows and blankets to surround all sides of her bed. That had helped soothe her anxieties a bit. But not enough.

She had even snuck a few of Tamlin’s shirts from his clothes bin, not feeling the slightest bit embarrassed about it when the added presence of his scent calmed her down and allowed her to sleep with only a few nightmares.

But then the cramping started. And the heat licking up her spine had been unbearable. Even a cold bath had only helped abate the fire for a few short minutes and she gave up and dragged herself back into her bed.

Tamlin had shown up a few hours later, tossing the pillows and fabrics at the end of the bed onto the ground as he eyed Feyre with a predatory glint in his eyes.

“Pretty omega,” he crooned, slowly getting on the bed, covering her naked body with his. “Did you need some help from your alpha?”

Feyre had whined, tugging at his shirt weakly, needing to feel his skin on hers, knowing it would help with the fire in her blood. “Please alpha, touch me,” she said, her voice breathless as she sucked in his scent.

Tamlin chuckled, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it to the side, Feyre’s eyes tracking where it landed, marking it for later. “I only have a couple of hours I can spare today, omega. I wish you’d told me you were nesting, I would have cleared my schedule in advance.” He paused, loosing a long breath into her neck, her answering breath in sharp and needy. He chuckled, pressing hard kisses to the side of her throat before sucking gently on her scent gland.

“Since you didn’t tell me, I won’t be able to help you much these first few days, omega.” More placating to her neck as she whined again. “I’ll have Lucien push anything after tomorrow, but maybe two days without your alpha’s knot will keep you from making that mistake again, hmm?” He finally, finally, placed a kiss on her mouth. And then her breasts. Then stomach.

She sighed a hum of agreement, just happy to finally have her alpha giving her the attention she needed, and threaded her hands into his hair, trying to push him lower with her remaining strength. He chuckled against her skin, before lapping up some of the slick that had been steadily leaking from her since this afternoon.

“Alpha,” Feyre whimpered, shifting her hips up into her face. “Need more. Please.” Tamlin smirked at her from between her thighs, his mouth gleaming with her slick.

“Need my knot, sweet omega?” A vigorous head shake later and Tamlin had shucked off his pants and lined up his cock with her cunt. “Good. I’m going to fill up this cunt, breed you full of pups. Would you like that omega?” Another head nod, tears forming at the edges of her eyes from the sheer need for him in that moment. He flashed another smirk at her, thrusting into her in one motion, pushing the air out of her lungs.

The stretch of him normally burned even when he went slow, but today? He fit perfectly in her, slick easing his way into her. As he pulled back, she sucked another breath in, preparing for the brutal pace she hoped he would set.

She wasn’t disappointed, the fast movements of his hips sending ice cold pleasure up her spine, and within minutes his knot had begun to catch in her, sending her into a blissful state, only thrown further in once his knot had locked him inside entirely, and he was spilling his seed deep inside her.

Finally, the heat had left her body.

Tamlin had rolled them to their sides, arms wrapped loosely around her. They sat in the quiet for a while, before his knot loosened and he pulled out of her, leaving her empty, and heat almost immediately started building in her abdomen again. A small whimper left her, and she tried to sit up to watch what Tamlin was doing, but collapsed back into her bed, only managing to angle her head in his direction.

He had already pulled his pants back on, and had moved to grab his shirt off the floor before looking at the fabrics lining the eyes of her bed. He pulled one of his shirts out from it, wrinkling his nose at it before dropping it. “Really Feyre? Stealing my clothes? Don’t do that anymore.”

Feyre frowned, not sure what was so wrong with it. “But your scent-”

“I don’t care omega, don’t steal my clothes anymore,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he put his shirt back on. “Anyways, I have a meeting I have to go to, I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t leave your room, I’ll have Alis or Ianthe come up in a bit to check on you.”

Tears filled Feyre’s eyes at the thought of being alone, or worse yet with Ianthe, in this state. “Alpha, please don’t leave,” she begged, managing to push herself onto her knees in the middle of her bed as something inside of her panicked.

Tamlin looked back at her, already with his hand on the doorknob. “Oh, omega,” he sighed, “I already told you this would happen. Just think of it lie a punishment for not telling me you were nesting when you started,” he said coldly, opening the door and shutting it behind him, the sound of it latching breaking the dam on her tears as she fell back into her bed- no, nest.

The rest of her heat had passed in a cramp filled haze, Tamlin stopping in when he had the time, but never for longer than it took for his knot to deflate. She remembered him saying something about his schedule, but couldn’t think of exactly what.

But that was over. The next two heats, three months apart each, had gone fine, though she woke up alone during most days which hurt the part of her that she’d figured out was her omega. She wanted to wake up in his arms, knowing he was there to help if the heat got too unbearable. But that had only happened two days total in her first three heats, in the year since she had been high fae. Not that he wouldn’t burst through her door in the middle of the night if he had a nightmare about her death again. Why he didn’t just sleep in her room, she didn’t know.

But today, that doesn’t matter. Today is her wedding day.

Today is her wedding day, yet Feyre is angry.

She is angry about her dress. The obnoxiously poofy, overly resembling-a-cupcake dress was horribly itchy on her skin, and is just ridiculous and not her at all. Her hair has been teased into a fluffy, curly mess with so many pins she just knows her head will be aching all day.

And her omega? Well, she is pissed about the fact her alpha still hadn’t but her scent gland, marking her as his forever, and he refused to answer why. And, well, her nest hadn’t had any of Tamlin’s scent in it besides what he left behind during her heats, as he wouldn’t let her take his clothes since her first one. She had been more on edge after every heat, and nearing them as well because of the lack of him.

Today is her wedding day, and she’s hoping that after today, during her next heat in a few days, Tam will give her the mating mark her omega is craving. Because if not… she feels she might go insane.

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 4

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 3 chapter 5 series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, talk of UTM stuff, that's all I think

Words: ~4.1k

Author's Note: well, it's not as far into the week as I wanted to get, but I'm happy with how this chapter turned out! Not proofreading, as usual lol. More to come in the next few days :) I wanted to say thank you to everyone who's read my story so far, it means so much to me to see every like and comment. Enjoy! Also I hope Rhys and Feyre aren't feeling too OOC, both of them are more influenced by their biological urges, the main change so far is in Feyre being more submissive, when she's normally such a firecracker. She'll still have her moments, no worries, just wanted to give a bit of an explanation.

18+ only pls

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Feyre’s bath was heavenly. The view was perfect, the temperature of the water was just right, and Nuala had brought in a tray holding a lovely teapot filled with a lovely jasmine tea, which she was tempted to ask for a container of to take home to Spring, as well as a few different kinds of cookies.

She stayed in the bath until the tea was gone and the sweets were eaten. Her skin was pruney, but she didn’t mind. She dried herself off and tied her hair up in a towel, walked over to the wardrobe and swung the doors open. The inside held an assortment of clothing, matching sets of tops and bottoms, all of which were cut in a comfortable but attractive looking fashion. There were also a few silk dresses, nightgowns, dressing gowns, thick leggings, and buttery soft looking knit sweaters. There were a few different pairs of satin slippers on the floor of the wardrobe, all varying in color that matched the sets of clothing. Feyre pulled out one of the nightgowns, a midnight blue with silver stars embroidered at the hems, and slipped it over her head, amazed at how well it fit her body.

Although, maybe she shouldn’t be seeing as Rhys had chosen clothing… well, scraps of cloth, for her before, and her body truly hadn’t changed much in the past year.

Shaking her head, she grabbed a matching, sheer dressing gown, then padded over to the bed and bent down slightly, touching the indigo comforter, and instantly sinking down onto the bed. The blanket was possibly one of the softest fabrics she had ever touched. Tossing the dressing gown on the end of the bed, she pulled back the covers and slipped underneath, deciding that she was worn out enough from the day events to take a nap before dinner.

The pillows were just the right marriage between firm and fluffy, Feyre couldn’t help but loose a sigh as she pulled the blanket up over her chin. The pillowcases were violet in color, and she wondered if Rhysand had a hand in decorating her room. With the shade of his eyes all over the room, she thought it was highly likely. If he did have a part in it, well, he did a good job. Especially with the bed, not forgetting the fabrics waiting to billow down and create a beautiful canopy.

After a few minutes of laying in a haven of comfort, Feyre slipped into a deep sleep as her body gave in to the emotional exhaustion from the day.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

It was a few hours later that she was awoken by a soft knock and the door swinging open, Cerridwen holding a tray with a few dishes stacked on top.

Feyre sat up in the bed, wiping the sleep out of her eyes when the smell hit her- something was absolutely mouthwatering, and her stomach rumbled. It was then that she realized she hadn’t eaten all day aside from the cookies earlier, having been too nervous to eat before the ceremony, and, well…

“That smells wonderful,” she remarked as Cerridwen crossed the room and placed the tray on the table. “What is it?”

“There’s a bowl of beef stew, a few slices of bread, and a slice of cake. Oh, and a couple of different drinks that I thought you might like.” Feyre grabbed the dressing gown and slipped it on, walking over to the table and smiled at the shadow wraith.

“Thank you for the food, Cerridwen.”

“It’s no problem, Feyre. Thank you for everything that you have done. It means a lot to all of us to be back home,” she said with gratitude in her eyes, and Feyre blushed lightly. “Especially… especially for the High Lord.” Cerridwen shook her head, clearing her thoughts, then made for the door. “Enjoy your dinner, Feyre.”

Feyre watched the door close, then turned back to the tray of food. The stew looked as delicious as it smelled, thick with chunks of beef, onion, carrots, potatoes, and two other root vegetables. Feyre was guessing they were native to the Night Court, as she’d never seen anything similar to them back in Spring. One of them was blue inside, with varying rings of varying color spreading outward and the skin removed; the other was a solid dark brown with a black skin.

She sat down and immediately picked up the spoon, taking a bite of the stew. Flavor exploded in her mouth as the spicy, earthy flavor overtook her tastebuds. Quickly, she spooned another bite into her mouth, and sighed after swallowing. It was absolute perfection, so rich and comforting.

Feyre picked up a slice of bread going to tear a piece off and butter it separately, as she had been drilled into doing over the past year back home. But…

Ianthe isn’t here right now.

No one is here to see her butter the whole slice of bread and dip it into the stew, taking the biggest bite that she possibly could.

No one is here to see that she finishes stew and bread within 15 minutes, an entirely unladylike act back home for the size of the bowl.

The cake was a nutty flavor- pistachio, if she was correct- with a vanilla buttercream, and absolutely delightful. Feyre was only able to finish half of the slice, her stomach feeling on the edge of bursting.

Stuffed as she was, she looked towards the three cups on the tray. One of them was water, which she took a small sip of. The next was a bubbly apple juice, light and sweet on her tongue, similar to the sparkling fairy wine they had at holidays. The last was a warm and creamy chocolate drink, staying warm in its enchanted mug, adding to the contentment building in her chest.

Even if the day had been bad, nowhere near the outcome she was hoping for, she had just eaten a delicious dinner with a gorgeous view.

She climbed back into her bed a few minutes later, watching the sun set over the mountains as she lay facing the open wall, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

🩵💜🩵

A knock sounded on her door, waking Feyre from her peaceful slumber. “Darling, breakfast will be ready in a half an hour,” Rhysand drawled through the door before she heard his footsteps receding down the hall.

She sighed and threw the covers off of herself, stretching her body taut before getting up and heading over to the bathroom.

She slipped her nightgown off over her head, tossing it on the large counter on the far end of the bathroom, and her hair up in a bun with a tie she found in drawer in the counter, then sank into the warm water of the bathtub. She reveled in the beauty of the morning light shining on the land before her for a few minutes. She washed herself quickly, not wanting to linger too long and risk Rhysand or someone else possibly stumbling in on her in the bath to hurry her along to breakfast.

Feyre toweled her body off and went to the vanity, rummaging through the drawers until she found a brush and smoothed out her hair, wild from sleep. Then she moved over to the wardrobe and picked out a pair of black leggings, and a dark blue knit sweater so soft she wanted a blanket made out of it. She picked out a pair of black flats, slipping them on and walking to the door, steeling herself for whatever is to come during this meal.

She exited her room and headed down the hallway she believed to lead to the table she’d seen in the room they’d first arrived in yesterday.

Hopefully, today would be the same as yesterday, with Rhysand being a tolerable level of flirtatious and pushy. She wasn’t sure she would survive the week if he turned back into the major ass he had been Under the Mountain.

The smell of eggs, bacon and fruit grew as she drew closer, and then she was back in the grand hallway, staring at the gorgeous blonde woman in a sleek black dress seated next to Rhysand. They both turned to look at her, and the blonde squealed, got up, and ran over to Feyre. The moment her scent, citrus and cinnamon and entirely alpha, hit Feyre’s nose, anxiety began to build in her gut. The only other female alpha she knew was Ianthe, and she had nothing but veiled disdain for Feyre in the year that she’d known her.

She stopped right before her, and held out her hands. “It is so lovely to finally meet you, Feyre. My cousin has talked quite a lot about you in the past year, and I’m glad this day has finally come!” The woman grabbed Feyre’s hands, encompassing them with her own. “My name is Mor, I’ll be joining you for breakfast if you’re alright with that!”

Feyre’s first impression of Mor is that of sunshine in a bottle, always ready to be opened and spread joy on those around her, and the building dread within her dissipated. A nice female alpha. She looked a sigh of relief, and squeezed her hands lightly. “That sounds lovely, Mor. It’s nice to meet you too.” The blonde smiled widely at her, and dragged her over to the table where Rhysand was still seated, and a nice selection of food was waiting to be eaten.

“Good morning, Feyre,” he said with a smile, and Feyre almost sighed again. It seemed like today was going to be a nice day, if the attitude these two were giving off was genuine. Then his scent washed over her, the blissful combination of citrus and sea, so perfectly alpha.

It may be more trying than she thought, through no true fault of his own.

“Good morning, Rhysand,” she replied, the corners of her mouth tilted up. Feyre started dishing out food for herself starting with the eggs, and motioned to put some on Mor’s plate as well.

“Yes, please, Feyre,” she said, pushing her plate closer to the dish. Feyre scooped eggs onto her plate, then moved to Rhysand’s. “Thank you, Feyre.”

“I’ll dish my own up, darling, but thank you,” he said with a slight smirk, grabbing the spatula from her and putting eggs on his plate.

Feyre fought a frown, unsure why he wouldn’t let her serve him, but mentally shook it off. Probably something to do with being magically bound to a psychopath through a drink served to him, so none of Feyre’s business.

She grabbed a pair of tongs and grabbed a few slices of bacon for herself and Mor, then passing them off to Rhysand again. The same cycle continued for the large bowl of fruit that Feyre was most excited to have, made of chunks of apple, melon, and a few varieties of berries, some of which she hadn’t seen in Spring.

Mor busied herself with pouring glasses of water for the three of them, and once they had their food, the three of them tucked in.

After a couple of minutes, Mor broke the silence. “So, Feyre, what’s your favorite color?”

Feyre choked on her food slightly, not expecting the question at all and threw a questioning look at Mor.

“What?” Mor asked, laughing breezily. “If you’re to be here every month, I’d like to know some things about you! Sooo, your favorite color?” She repeated enthusiastically.

Feyre thought for a moment, not having ever truly thought of what her favorite might be. She had loved all colors equally her entire life. Well, up until a year ago that is. But after a second, thinking back on the painting on her drawer of the dresser… “Probably a dark, midnight blue. What about you?”

“Definitely red, it’s the color of love and passion, so I’ve always been drawn to it. And I happen to look amazing in it.”

Feyre was just happy she hadn’t worn any red today, not wanting to deal with the color any more than she had to. “Now that, I’m sure of, Mor. Though I’m sure you could pull off any color if you tried.” Feyre turned her head to Rhys, asking “Which is your favorite, Rhysand?"

He lifted a hand to his heart, a pained expression on his face. “Feyre, still calling me Rhysand? You know only my enemies call me that, darling. We may not be friends, but I wouldn’t consider us enemies at this point in time.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Fine, what’s your favorite color, Rhys?”

A smile spread across his face, and he answered “Midnight blue as well, funny coincidence darling.” He winked at her, then continued “The color of the night sky is something I’ll never stop loving. There’s just something so entrancing about it.”

It was Mor’s turn to roll her eyes, “Of course that’s your favorite, you’re the High Lord of the Night Court, cousin.”

“That may be, but the color is magnificent either way, Mor.”

Feyre couldn’t help but smile, watching the two interact as she took a few more bites of her food. It was nice to see Rhysand’s friendly side come out, playful but not flirtatious or masking danger.

“Feyre, do you have any hobbies?” Mor asked, drawing her back into the room.

“Oh, umm…” Feyre paused, unsure of how to answer. “I liked to paint, but I haven’t in a while. Recently I’ve taken to reading. Beyond that, I haven’t found much that interests me.”

Mor frowned for a moment, then slid a smile back on her face. “Well, we can change that if you’d like! If you need anything, you can ask either of us or the twins for it, and- oh, do you like shopping?”

Shrugging her shoulders, Feyre said “I don’t really know, I didn’t have the money to shop for anything nice before… as a human, and since then all of my things have been provided for me without me asking.”

“Well, then, if you’d like I could bring you some catalogs from my favorite stores! That way I’d have an excuse to go get something for myself when you wanted something,” Mor added with a wink.

“As though you need an excuse to go shopping Mor,” Rhysand said playfully.

“Oh, like you don’t enjoy shopping for home décor,” She countered in a teasing tone, and Rhys narrowed his eyes at her slightly. Mor wiped her mouth with a napkin, then stood up. “Well, it was wonderful to meet you Feyre. I have a meeting to run off to, but I hope I’ll see you again this week!”

“The same to you, Mor. And I’m sure that we’ll see each other again soon,” Feyre said, meaning her words. And with that, Mor walked off into the the hallway, leaving Feyre alone with Rhysand.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” She asked, and Rhysand quirked a brow at her, questioning. “Seeing as I know how to read, you can’t follow through with your plan to torture me with it.”

Rhysand loosed a sigh, his shoulders hunching slightly. “I do not intend to torture you during your time here, Feyre, physically or otherwise. In fact, if you’ll allow me to, I would like to apologize to you.”

Feyre frowned. “I suppose you can, it does not mean I will forgive you, however.”

“I am not looking for forgiveness, Feyre, I am simply hoping to apologize for my actions, now and whenever else you will allow me. What I did to you and how I acted Under the Mountain…” He paused, looking for the right words. “It was and is unforgivable, no matter the circumstances. I regretted my actions even as I was doing them, and now as well, having you here under the coercion of a bargain that I twisted your infected, broken arm to force you into making. Worst of all was the way I used you during the revels, no matter the reason why, I cannot ever undo the trauma and pain I inflicted upon you. Feyre, I am truly, deeply sorry for how I have hurt you. If you wish, I will release you from the bargain today and return you to Spring right now.”

Feyre’s eyes were wide by the time he had finished, the sincerity of his words shocking her. Most of all, she was shocked at his willingness to revoke the bargain.

“I…” She started, but could not find the words. The omega inside of her was begging her to forgive him, please the alpha in front of her, but the emotional part of her, the part that was damaged and forever changed? It could not simply forgive his actions.

“There is no need to answer me anytime soon, Feyre.”

“No, it’s not… I’m just surprised, is all. I… I will not forgive you now, but I can see that there is a difference in you from a year before now. As for the bargain…” Feyre paused, and Rhys waited, hardly breathing. “The bargain did save my life, no matter how you convinced me to take it, I would have died without it. As of right now, I am fine with continuing to honor it, as long as you offer me another bargain that you will break it if I ask you at any point in time.”

Rhys smiled at Feyre, a broad, toothy one that made him so handsome it nearly took Feyre’s breath away. “It’s a bargain, darling. And thank you.” Inside the unmarked space on her left wrist, a small ribbon of black tied in a bow appeared, a matching one on Rhysand.

“Would you…” Rhysand hesitated. “Would you be willing to try and be friends? At least, friendly during your time here?”

Feyre considered it for a moment. “As long as you do not make any more bullheaded comments about my alpha, then I suppose that would be doable,” She agreed.

Rhys chuckled and nodded his head. “I will do my very best to be polite about him, Feyre, I promise.” He stood up from the table and extended his arm closest to Feyre, and his scent washed over her again. “Now, would you be up for a tour? I would like for you to be able to do more than bathe and sleep, if you so choose.”

Feyre stood up as well, and grabbed his arm lightly, not entirely having planned to do that. She could, after all, walk on her own and follow him. “That sounds nice, I’d like to have more places to hide from you if you do end up being an ass.”

Rhys chuckled at that, and began leading her down the opposite hallway from where her room was.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The tour took about an hour, granted a lot of that was Feyre exploring the library, a massive, gorgeous room that had a large mural covering the entire far wall.

Rhysand had explained that the mural told the story of the creation of the Night Court, up through the midway point of his father’s rule.

Feyre was entranced by it, similar to the mural back in the Spring library, so much so that Rhysand had to practically drag her away from it, back to the rest of the moonstone palace.

After that, she was most interested in the kitchen and large bathing pools, the latter of which she may have been tempted to use if she didn’t have such an amazing bath in her room already.

“This is our final stop,” Rhys said, swinging the door in front of them open to reveal a relatively bare room, only furnished with two wooden chairs with padding.

Feyre’s face contorted, her mind going to the worst, before Rhys caught sight of her expression and quickly said “It’s a small training room, suitable for beginners magic training, as well as mental shielding. I was hoping that you would be willing to train your magic, if you haven’t begun already in Spring.”

Feyre’s cheeks heated quickly, and she turned away from him and the doorway. “I don’t have any kind of magic,” she stated in a small voice.

“They may not have manifested yet for some reason, Feyre, but you were given a kernel of power from each High Lord.” He walked around her so she faced him, and he lifted her chin with two gentle fingers. “Not much is known about Made fae, but I would reckon that you will have a well of power to rival any one of us, just waiting to be coaxed to life.”

His gentle tone and scent was like a balm on the sting of embarrassment at having no magic to show for what she was gifted, and she nodded her head, his fingers dropping from her chin.

“Would you be willing to try? If you’re uncomfortable attempting to use your magic with me, we could at the very least go over magical theory and how to begin accessing it. Or even just the shielding,” he suggested.

Feyre nodded her head again. Both of those sounded like reasonable, kind enough options for him to offer. “That sounds fine, but… Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why offer to train me? Why offer to help me protect my mind from you?”

Rhysand sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I want you to be able to protect yourself Feyre, even if it is from me. I was not lying when I said I came to call in the bargain because I was worried for you,” he said sincerely.

“As long as you’re not an ass to me during the shielding, both will be fine. I would… I would like to know if I have any magic,” Feyre said hesitantly, a spark of hope igniting in her chest. Something that she hadn’t felt in quite a while, besides the hope for Tamlin’s mark, though that was hardly ignited anymore, especially with the disastrous ceremony now standing between them… Mother, they have so much to discuss when she gets home.

“Of course, Feyre, I’ll be as gentle as I can. As for the theory…” he trailed off, and had suddenly pulled a book from nowhere, and handed it to Feyre. “You can begin reading this today, and we can go over however much you’ve read tomorrow after breakfast.” Feyre turned the book over in her hands, admiring the leather cover that was stitched with silver thread. “It’s a book on the formation of magic as fae age, as well as the beginnings to understanding how to access the magic within you. Read as much or as little as you like."

“Thank you,” Feyre said, clutching the book to her chest.

“Or course, darling. Now, I’ll show you back to your room from here, but after that I’ll be in meetings until dinner this evening, so lunch is yours to take wherever you wish. Just call for Nuala or Cerridwen, or talk to me,” He tapped his temple, “And it will be set up for you. And of course, feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen if you’d like.”

They made their way back to her room, both of them stopping outside of the doorway.

Her curiosity got the better of her, and she blurted out the question, “Did you help decorate my room?”

Color rose high in Rhysand’s cheeks, the first time that Feyre had ever seen him look bashful, and he coughed awkwardly. “As a matter of fact I did. Are you finding it to your liking? I was attempting to make it as open and inviting as possible.”

Feyre smiled and nodded her head. “Yes, it’s lovely. The view from this side is spectacular.”

Rhysand’s expression mirrored her own. “It certainly is. Have a good rest of your day, Feyre,” he said in parting, and began to walk away.

Feyre turned the doorknob and began to open her door, but before entering her room, turned back to his retreating form. “You too, Rhys. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Rhysand turned around, flashing that toothy smile again, and winked before winnowing away.

She shook her head and entered her room, settling down into her bed, the book Rhysand had given her clutched tightly in her hands. She ran her hands over the cover, the feeling of the stitching comforting against them.

Without waiting another moment, Feyre opened the cover and began reading the guide greedily, wanting what Rhysand had talked about, wanting to be able to defend herself and access the magic he believed her to have been blessed with.

She wanted to be strong again.

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Series taglist: @icey--stars

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 6

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 5 | chapter 7 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, not proofread

Words: ~6.3k

Author's Note: this came out sooner than I expected! It is only covering another day and a half, but there will be another chapter before Tuesday for the rest of Feyre's first week in the Night Court. I hope you all like it!

18+ only pls

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Feyre was awoken a while later by Cerridwen knocking on the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Feyre? Lunch is ready,” She said gently, her eyes considerately avoiding her naked form, still in the bath.

“Oh, thank you, Cerridwen. I’ll be out in a few minutes, you can leave it there, for me,” Feyre replied, a sleepy smile on her face. The shadow wraith nodded her head, then turned and walked away.

Feyre got up once she heard the snick of the door, wrapping her body in a fluffy towel. Her skin was pruney, but she felt more refreshed than she had before getting in the bath. She returned to the main room and got into her wardrobe, looking for something to wear until it was time to sleep.

She rummaged through the drawers at the bottom that she had yet to look at, and pulled out a soft set of matching shorts and a tank top in a pale, minty green. The color reminded her of Spring, and she quickly dried her body off and slipped the items on, along with a pair of socks that went up to her mid calf.

Feyre then moved to the table, where Cerridwen had left a tray holding a soup, tomato, she would guess, and a grilled sandwich filled with cheese cut into two triangles. Feyre tucked in, loving the basil and slight creaminess the soup had, and the sandwich went perfectly with the soup.

She had just sat down in the plush armchair with one of the novels she had picked out earlier when Cerridwen returned for the tray.

Before Feyre could second guess the request, Feyre blurted “Would you be able to get me a sketch pad and some charcoals, Cerridwen?”

The wraith turned around, tray already in her arms. “Of course, Feyre. I’ll be back in just a moment with it.”

“Thank you,” Feyre said, grateful that the other fae hadn’t questioned her on her request.

Cerridwen returned a few minutes later, three differently sized sketch pads and an assortment of charcoals, blending stumps and erasers in hand.

Feyre stood up and excitedly took the items from the other fae. "Thank you so much, Cerridwen, these look perfect!"

"I'm glad you like them, Feyre," she said with a warm smile, one of the few Feyre had seen from her.

Feyre set the supplies down on the table as Cerridwen left the room, closing the door behind her. The only thing missing was...

Quickly, Feyre dragged the armchair she had just been sitting in next to the table, close enough that she could reach the extra charcoals and supplies. She moved one of the smaller chairs in front of the armchair so that if she was here long enough, she could put her legs up without needing to move anything or risk getting charcoal on the fine furniture.

Feyre sat down and grabbed the smallest sized sketch pad and a piece of charcoal. Then, she began to draw the glorious view that had been calling to her the past three days.

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Feyre had completed three renditions of the mountains in front of her, one on each of the differently sized pads of paper. With each one, she became more and more confident.

She had thought any ability to create, to make something new in this world instead of just taking away from it had been taken away from her when her neck snapped.

But that wasn't the case. With her fingers covered in black dust, she had made something beautiful again- Feyre had just needed some inspiration, something out of the usual dullness of her life in Spring.

She was happy with Tamlin, that was true, but the constant season and Ianthe's hounding of every move she made had made her rather tired. But seeing another court, the other beauty that this world had to offer had rekindled the spark in her, the part of her that she had thought so useless as a starving human.

Feyre might even paint when she gets home- she did have a lovely set of paints from Tamlin that he had given her last Winter Solstice for her birthday.

She was brought out of her thoughts by a few gentle knocks on her door, and Mor's voice came from the other side. "Feyre? Can I come in?"

"Yes, come in Mor," Feyre replied, standing from her place on the chair and turning to face the door.

More breezed in, her striking golden hair in soft ringlets and dressed in a flowy white dress. "Dinner is ready, I thought I would walk you down there!"

"That would be nice, Mor. Let me just change," Feyre said, looking down at her attire. She was definitely not going to eat dinner with Rhys and Mor in pajamas.

She pulled another matching set in the same cut as the one she'd worn this morning from her wardrobe, this one in a shade of pale blue. Feyre went into her bathroom and quickly changed, folding the pajamas and setting them on the counter for tonight.

Once she was done, the two of them made their way down to the table they had been eating at while Feyre was here. Rhysand was nowhere to be seen, and they took their seats.

On the table was a bowl of salad, a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a small plate holding butter, as well as their place settings. There was an empty space in the middle of the table, and Feyre assumed that there was another dish that had yet to be put out.

Mor took to pouring them each a glass of wine, which Feyre gladly take a sip of. It was sweet, the flavor bursting across her tongue, far better than the usual wines they had with dinner in Spring, all chosen for their scents rather than taste. Why, Feyre could not fathom.

"Rhys brought out the good stuff, thank the Mother!" Mor exclaimed as she took her own sip. "I like the taste of wine and all, I just enjoy it even more when it tastes like there's no alcohol in it."

"I'll agree with you there," Feyre laughed. "Speaking of Rhys, where is he?"

"He's just bringing out the main dish," Mor replied, and as she did Rhysand came out of the darkness of the hallway leading to the kitchen. "Good thing you're here, Rhys, I'm starving."

Without saying a word, Rhysand set the bowl on the table and took a seat, dishing out food for all three of them.

"Thank you, Rhys," Feyre said gently after he had given her a piece of bread, her plate now loaded with salad and the creamy pasta dish he had brought. The pasta had mushrooms, onions, chicken, and pieces of crumbled bacon in it, and was absolutely delicious.

Rhysand said nothing, merely nodding his head in acknowledgment as he poured his own very full glass of wine, downing half of it in one gulp.

"So, Feyre, I saw you had some sketch pads...?" Mor prodded gently after a few minutes of tense silence.

"Oh." Feyre blushed, she wasn't quite prepared to talk about art yet, but she supposed now was as good a time as ever to start again. "I asked Cerridwen if she could, I hope that was okay."

"Of course, Feyre! Again, you can ask for pretty much anything you want and we will get it for you, it's no trouble to us at all," Mor interrupted with a sweet smile, and that combined with her scent, still calm, soothed Feyre's small bit of panic.

"Well, thank you. I just... the view out of my bedroom is so spectacular, I needed to commit it to memory."

Mor nodded, that smile still on her face. "I can understand that, our court is so beautiful. I wish I was any good with the arts, but I am rather dreadful at everything I’ve tried," Mor chuckled.

“Oh, I’m sure you aren’t that bad Mor. Maybe you could try again? It does take practice after all.”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll leave it to you and the other creatives,” Mor said lightly. She looked over to Rhysand, who was still silently eating his dinner and on his second glass of wine. “Is there anywhere else you’d like to sketch, Feyre?”

Feyre thought about it for a moment before answering. “There’s nowhere specific that I can think of. Right now, at least. But I haven’t been able to explore much of the Spring Court, I’ve been constantly busy this past year. But maybe you’ll be able to show me a few of your own favorites here?” She asked, hopeful for the idea of more glorious view to put on paper.

“I’d love to do that Feyre! Between that and our Dawn Court trip, I am going to have so much fun planning!” Mor clapped her hands together in excitement.

The blonde was definitely living up to Feyre’s first impression of her. Very bright and friendly, just like her personality.

Rhysand stoop up abruptly, his chair scraping against the stone beneath them loudly. He grabbed his glass of wine and stalked off.

Feyre stared after him, confused. “What was that all about?”

Mor sighed, and it was the first time had heard her sound tired. “One of our temples was attacked a couple of hours ago, we lost some of our citizens. He’s taking it rather hard, after all of the losses from… well, you know.”

Feyre grimaced. “That’s awful… Have you caught who did it yet?”

Mor pursed her lips, eyeing the hallway Rhysand had disappeared down. “Promise you won’t tell anyone about this?” Feyre nodded, she wasn’t sure what use the information would be to her or anyone she knows anyways. “We caught the actual people who went through with the act, but we believe it to be the work of Hybern.”

“Hybern?” Feyre had never heard of such a place, only Prythian and the Continent.

“It’s a large island kingdom to our west… Amarantha was one of their generals, and we believe they might be planning something. What, we aren’t sure of, but Rhys’s goal is to unite Prythian to stop whatever conflict is brewing. But… Today hit him hard. None of us were expecting a seemingly random loss of innocent life.”

Feyre frowned, looking to where he had exited the room from. “I am sorry. I can’t imagine what it must feel like, losing people again, so soon after everything.”

Mor loosed another sigh, slumping back in her chair. “It is difficult, for sure. But seeing you- seeing someone be able to create good in this world reminds me that it’s worth it. No matter what comes, we will need people like you, more than ever.”

“People like… Me?” Feyre asked, unsure of what she meant.

“Dreamers, Feyre. People who can look at the world and see the good in it, no matter what they’ve been through. It might take them a week, a month, a year…” Mor paused and smiled at Feyre knowingly. “But people like you always come back to what’s beautiful and worthwhile in the world.”

The words brought a smile to Feyre’s face. “Dreamers, hmm? I like the sound of that…”

Mor jumped up from her chair, startling Feyre. “Dreamers deserve cake, don’t you think Feyre?”

“Oh, they do Mor!” Feyre hopped out of her chair was well, loving the idea Mor had suggested.

Mor dragged her down the hallway to the kitchen, the two of them giggling all the way like children sneaking food in the middle of the night. They slid to a stop in front of the massive fridge, and Mor swung the doors of it open wide.

“Cake, cake, cake,” Mor sang, pulling out a beautifully decorated cake. It was wrapped in a lovely blue-grey frosting, which nearly matched her eyes, Feyre noted, and topped with blackberries, raspberries, and blueberries.

“It’s beautiful,” Feyre breathed, surprised by how lovely a cake could be. None of the wedding cakes she had tasted in Spring had drawn her attention like this one did.

“It tastes as amazing as it looks, Feyre, I promise,” Mor said as she grabbed a large knife, two forks, and two plates out of a cabinet. She cut two generous slices for the both of them and led Feyre over to the breakfast bar on the other side of the island counter.

They both let out a groan at their first bites, the simple but perfect vanilla cake and sweet berry filling was absolute perfection.

“So, Feyre… I didn’t want to ask when Rhys was around in case it made you uncomfortable, and you are in no way obligated to answer me… But how’s this past year been for you? How’s uhm… How are things with Tamlin?” Mor asked hesitantly.

Feyre smiled awkwardly, swallowing her bite of cake. “It’s been… it’s been tough, for sure. There’s been a lot for me to get used to, not even just with preparing to be Lady of Spring, but… I have a new body too.”

Mor grimaced. “I can’t imagine what it must be like, Rhys said you had grown a couple of inches, right?” Feyre nodded her head. “That must have been so disorienting to get used to.”

“It was, it took me a month to stop stumbling around everywhere, and two months for me to stop mangling the silverware at dinner,” Feyre laughed, Mor joining her. “And as for Tamlin… well, it would have been nice if the ceremony had gone as planned but I… I had a panic attack, and well… Rhys stepped in at just the right time to not ruin our relationship entirely. I am looking forward to going home, though, and seeing him again. I… I miss my alpha,” Feyre admitted in a small voice.

“Oh, Feyre. You’ll be back to him in just a few days, there’s no need to worry. I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you too,” Mor comforted her, rubbing a soothing hand on her back.

“I know, I just wish we had been able to talk before I left for a moment… But there’s no point to worrying now, I can’t do anything from here.”

“Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable? Rhys mentioned… He mentioned that you might go into heat, or the beginnings of it during this week.” Mor was looking at her with soft eyes.

“I’m not sure,” Feyre said, biting her lip. “You mentioned there’s a catalog with nesting materials?”

Mor’s eyes lit up. “Yes, there is Feyre. Would you like me to show you which one it is?”

“Yes, please.”

The two of them ran with their half eaten plates of cake into Feyre’s room, Mor giving her plate to Feyre and rummaging through the catalogs before pulling out the one they were looking for.

“Can I help you look?” Mor asked with puppy dog eyes, and Feyre couldn’t resist.

“You can help me make sure I get colors that mostly go together.”

“Yes!” Mor jumped onto Feyre’s bed, patting the spot next to her.

They spent the next hour going through the entire booklet, Feyre picking out a plethora of different blankets, pillowcases, and cuts of materials that she knew would look and feel perfect in her nest from the illustrations and descriptions. She insisted on only getting items in varying shades of purple, blue, and pink, making sure to get pastels and darker versions.

Feyre could almost see her nest now, the top of it colored like the sunset and the bottom resembling the sunrise. She fell back into her pillows, letting out a happy sigh as she did so.

“You good, Feyre?” Mor giggled at her.

“Mhm, I’m just excited to have all of it…”

“Well, you won’t have to wait long. I’ll go right after breakfast tomorrow. Did you want to look at any of the other catalogs?” Mor suggested, already getting up to grab said catalogs.

“I don’t see why not,” Feyre said as she caught one- seemingly for clothing- from midair.

Feyre found a few dresses that she wanted- all in the same color scheme as her nesting materials. One of them was absolutely gorgeous, it was colored like a soft pink sunset, lighter at the top and fading into a lovely violet at the hem. It was something Feyre normally wouldn’t wear on an average day, but she figures that her time here hasn’t exactly been average, so she might as well go all out when she feels like it. She also picked two skirts and their matching long sleeved tops, both in deep jewels tones. The description promised them to be silk, one of Feyre’s favorite materials for clothing, and the beautiful sapphire and amethyst colors were too tempting to resist.

By the time they had gone through three more clothing booklets, the sun had long since set and the two of them were laughing, slightly delirious from tiredness.

“Feyre, dear, I think I’m going to head to bed,” Mor said, finally pulling her body off of Feyre’s bed. “I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast, alright?”

Feyre smiled, a bright and genuine thing, and nodded her head. “I’ll see you then, Mor. And thank you, for this. It was fun.”

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre, I had fun too. Sleep well."

And with that, the Alpha left her room, shutting the door behind her softly. Feyre got up from her bed, stretching her limbs before walking to the bathroom. She changed into her green sleep set from earlier, then tucked herself into bed, staring out at the stars over the mountains.

A few minutes later, the excitement and sugar wearing off, Feyre fell into a deep sleep.

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Feyre woke when a knock sounded on her door. She didn’t move.

“Feyre, darling? Breakfast is ready.” It was Rhysand.

Feyre merely rolled over in her bed, pulling the covers over her head. She heard the door open, and soft footsteps crossing the room.

“Feyre.”

She stayed still, trying to breathe as little as possible.

“Feyre.” Rhysand’s hand wiggled one of her feet, and she reflexively pulled away from his grasp. “Fey-ruh,” he said in a sing-songy voice, grabbing her other foot.

“I don’t want to get out of bed,” She finally whispered when she pulled her feet in towards her body.

“You only need to get up for breakfast, darling, we can do your training in here if you still want to be in bed afterwards,” Rhysand offered. Feyre groaned, but moved the blankets off of her face to look at him.

“You promise?”

Rhysand beamed at her. “Of course, Feyre. I promise. Now, will you change and meet me outside?”

“Fine,” Feyre huffed, waiting until he had left the room to throw the covers off of her body. She got up and went to her wardrobe, picking out a soft pair of leggings and a dark green sweater, then pulled on a pair of matching green knee high socks.

She felt nice and cozy, a decent enough substitution for her bed. Feyre joined Rhys in the hallway, and they made their way down to the dinner table.

Mor was already seated, pouring orange juice and some kind of sparkling wine into glasses for all of them, and on the table there were omelettes already on their plates, as well as a bowl of diced melons.

Breakfast was delicious, as Feyre was coming to expect from her meals here, and the bubbly mimosas Mor had poured made all of them relaxed and the time fly by.

Soon enough, Mor was leaving, heading off to go do Feyre’s shopping.

“Don’t worry, Feyre, I’ll be buying things for myself as well,” Mor reassured her when Feyre had voiced a concern about Mor spending her day shopping for her.

“Mor is fantastic at finding new things she needs, especially if you two looked over any clothing booklets last night,” Rhysand chuckled, and Mor flipped him off before she vanished. “So, Feyre, did you want to get back in bed or go to the training room?”

“Uhm… the training room should be fine, I was just so comfortable…” she trailed off.

“If you change your mind, just let me know, Feyre.” She dipped her head in agreement, and the two of them made their way to the training room, sitting in the same chairs they had yesterday.

“Let’s start with shielding again. Your shield from yesterday was wonderful, you might try adding in some defenses to ward away intruders before they try exploring the waters of your mind,” Rhysand suggested.

Hearing that she had done well again, Feyre beamed at Rhysand. “I’ll do my best.”

She thought of what might be able to protect her in the water. Feyre had never seen the sea, though her father had told tales of great beasts that would take bites out of a ships hull. She couldn’t picture what that might look like. Though… she did have one idea for a defensive mechanism.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Rhysand entered her mind, finding some resistance in the initial push inwards. He attempted to dive below the water, but it was solid this time, as though an inch thick layer of ice had covered it- so he smashed his way through, plunging beneath the surface. He made it a few yards down before her defenses found him.

He was face to- well, maw- with the Middengard Wyrm- the beast Feyre had nearly died slaughtering. They weren’t able to swim in the physical world, but the one in Feyre’s shielding was a vicious swimmer, propelling itself towards Rhysand’s power at a rapid pace, and just before it swallowed him whole, he backed out of her mind, breathless.

“Feyre- that was brilliant! I’m so proud of you, it takes most fae months to get to the level you’ve already achieved.”

“Rhys, stop it, you’re just saying that,” Feyre countered.

“I am being serious, Feyre. Most fae have trouble coming up with anything but a literal wall for their mental barrier, but you’ve already created an ocean and have a terrifyingly realistic Wyrm to serve as both protection and a warning to daemati that do manage to breach the initial barrier of your mind. It is amazing how well you are progressing already.”

Feyre looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were eager and truthful, and his expression was softened by them.

“Are you… okay?” Feyre finally asked the question that had been at the back of her mind since he had woken her for breakfast. “Mor, she told me some of what happened yesterday.”

Rhysand sighed, holding his chin in his hand. “I am not okay, Feyre, but I hope to be soon. It will take a while for the loss of my people to leave my heart. Thank you, for asking Feyre.”

Feyre merely nodded, then asked, “Again?”

They practiced a few more times, each time Rhysand pushed Feyre to make the initial barrier of her mind stronger, thicker. Harder for his power to seep or crack through. By the end of the second hour, Feyre was sweating and tired, her mind feeling a bit fuzzy at the edges.

“We’ll stop here for now with the shielding, Feyre. Here, drink this,” Rhysand said, procuring a glass of water with a straw from nowhere, and handed it to Feyre. She gulped it down, feeling more present and alert after finishing the glass.

“Thank you, Rhys. Are we going to work on my magic now?” Rhysand bobbed his head in confirmation.

“I’d like you to locate your magic again, and then attempt to draw it out, a good place to start with that is through the hands, they give more of a physical point to lead the magic to.”

Feyre did as he asked, closing her eyes and finding that slowly writhing mass of cold energy within her chest. It seemed more active today, wiggling in time to her heartbeat instead of every other beat. She tried to stretch it out, move it towards her arms, but it wouldn’t budge. She let out a frustrated groan and opened her eyes.

“It’s stuck.”

“Keep trying, Feyre. You’ll get it,” Rhysand encouraged her, and she shut her eyes and tried again.

She tried to move it more gently this time, in time with its natural pulsing. It expanded slightly in the direction of her arm before snapping back into place. Feyre brought a hand to her heart, soothing the ache the sensation had left behind.

“I got it to move, but barely,” Feyre grumbled, feeling discouraged.

“That’s great though, Feyre, just a few minutes ago you couldn’t get it to expand at all. Keep trying, practice will make it looser and able to expand more quickly and with less intense after effects.”

Feyre sat trying for the next hour, and managed to get the magic to expand through most of her chest and able to hold it there for around three seconds. She was exhausted, though, and drenched in sweat.

She went to try again, grasping at the power contained within her once again, before Rhysand placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Feyre, you should rest for the day.”

“No, I can keep trying Rhys, I’ll be fine-” Feyre protested before Rhysand cut her off.

“I know that you can keep trying, Feyre, but there is no need to exhaust your body any further today, it will most likely do more harm than good. Your progress in both areas today has been fantastic, you should be proud of yourself! I know that I am proud of you, Feyre,” Rhysand said in a caring tone, and the words of praise made Feyre’s omega so happy she was on the verge of purring aloud.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre responded with a blush high on her cheeks. She stood from her chair and stretched her sore, aching muscles. Rhysand followed suit, and walked Feyre back to her bedroom just as he had yesterday.

“Mor will be back in around a half hour with lunch for you and multitudes of shopping bags I’m sure she is going to bring home,” Rhysand informed her with a chuckle once they were by her door. “Make sure you’re eating well when you practice, Feyre, magic eats through out energy stores very quickly, especially at the start of learning to wield it.”

“I’ll pay attention to that, Thank you Rhys,” Feyre said. Rhysand smiled and turned around, heading back in the direction they had come from, and Feyre slipped into her room.

Like yesterday, she made her way to the bathroom and stripped herself of her clothing, tossing it in the laundry basket before sinking down into the water. She relaxed for a few minutes, letting the hot water soothe her aching muscles before she began to wash her hair, then moved on to her body.

In about twenty minutes, Feyre had just dried off and slipped on a soft black sweater dress when a knock came on her door. “Come in!”

The door busted open, revealing Mor carrying at least ten different bags, all stuffed to the brim with various colors and types of fabrics. “Today was so much fun! I got everything you asked for plus a few things that I thought might be nice that weren’t in the catalogs.” She dumped the bags on the floor, before going back out to the hall and grabbing a few more bags, one of which was giving off a deliciously spicy smell. “I also brought lunch, it’s from my favorite restaurant, I think it’s some type of curry but no matter what it will be amazing!”

Feyre moved to the bags on the floor first, instantly spotting an amethyst fabric that she snatched away, bringing it to her face and nuzzling into it. Mor dropped the bags that didn’t hold food on the ground with the rest and moved to the table, unpacking the food as Feyre continued rummaging in the bags.

“Oh!” Feyre exclaimed as she pulled out a pair of violet thigh high kitted socks, thick and soft and everything Feyre needed right now. She slipped them on quickly, and returned to her post of sorting through the massive amount of materials in front of her.

Before she could do much sorting- into piles of blankets, pillow cases, hemmed pieces of fabrics, pillows, and clothes- Feyre was interrupted by Mor.

“Feyre, you need to eat lunch.”

Feyre ignored her, continuing to pull item after item out of the bags, rubbing each one against her face before placing them in the correct pile.

“Omega.” That got Feyre to stop and turn towards the alpha who was already seated at the table, dishing food out for the both of them. “You need to eat, Rhys said you did a lot of training today. Be good and follow his instructions, okay?” Feyre bit her lip, gaze moving back to the still unsorted bags. “Omega, everything will be there when you finish eating, I promise. You can even sit and stare at them while you eat, if you’d like, but you need to eat, Feyre.”

Feyre finally got up from the floor, a pout on her lips as she took her seat. It was quickly erased when she smelled the food again, that wonderful spiced aroma filling Feyre’s senses. She sat so that she could see the bags out of the corner of her eye, but was still able to look out at the mountains if she wished.

“How’s the training going?” Mor asked a few minutes after Feyre had begun eating the creamy yellow chicken curry and rice.

“Rhys says it’s going well, but I have my doubts…” Feyre confessed. “I haven’t been able to summon anything, let alone move my magic into my limbs.”

“That’s true, you are in the beginning stages of learning to use your magic. It is the hardest part, I promise you, but from the few details Rhys has told me that you are progressing quickly, especially in the mental shielding aspect.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Feyre. And if I’m being honest, being able to keep Rhys out for any amount of time is impressive, even for someone who has practiced for years. The fact that you’ve been able to shows just how capable you are for magic. I think you’ll get the hang of it faster than you think,” Mor said sweetly, and every word from the alpha’s lips soothed the tension that had built inside of her body since this morning.

Hearing it from Rhys was one thing, he seemed to prefer training with a gentle hand for the moment, but hearing assurances from someone else was helpful. Calming, even. Feyre shook her head.

“I can’t believe I was so worried about that, it’s such a silly problem.”

“Feyre, it’s not silly. You’ve been given magic after being a human all your life, I think it would be more strange to not worry about it.”

“I suppose you’re right, Mor.”

Mor flashed her a smile. “I know I am, Feyre.”

The two of them finished their lunch, staring out at the passing clouds. As soon as Feyre was done, she washed her hands in the bathroom and returned to the bags to continue sorting them.

“Do you want me to help, Feyre, or are you fine on your own?” Mor asked from where she was still sitting at the table.

“I can do it on my own, but you can stay if you’d like. Or are you busy?” Feyre looked up at the other fae then, worried that she had taken up to much of the blonde’s time.

“No, no, I have nothing else to do today. I can stay for a while,” Mor said soothingly, and Feyre relaxed. “I’ll try reading one of those romance books you have over there, if that’s alright?”

“Oh, of course,” Feyre said, already focused on sorting everything again.

In a few minutes, all of the bags were emptied and everything sorted, and Feyre sighed. That part was done. Now, to arrange it all on her bed and around the room.

Feyre began to assemble her nest, carefully choosing which spot each item rested in to make it as perfect as possible. Her sunset to sunrise pattern was stunning, if she had to describe it in any way but perfect.

Her nest is perfect.

Tears fill Feyre’s eyes as joy bubbles in her chest.

It’s the first time her nest has felt right to her; every time in Spring something had felt off, like she didn’t have the right materials or patterns to satisfy her omega.

But now? Staring at the beautiful nest, with fabrics piled around the bed on the floor continuing the pattern she had created, her nest felt so welcoming and lovely.

Feyre slid onto the bed, rolling around on it and relishing in the soft slip of fabrics against her skin.

The door clicked shut, and Feyre’s head swung towards it, then back to the table where Mor had last been.

She was gone, as were the containers from lunch and the shopping bags.

Oh mother, did she see me rolling around in my nest? Feyre thought, color creeping up her neck.

But in a few moments, Feyre was back to basking in the happiness of her newly completed nest, her omega feeling the most at peace she had since Feyre had been turned into one.

Feyre pulled a violet body pillow into her body, wrapping her arms around it and stuffing it between her thighs. A series of deep breaths left her as her body relaxed into the nest, and she fell asleep just a few minute after curling up.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

“Feyre, darling, wake up,” came Rhysand’s voice, soft and comforting and oh so alpha.

She opened her eyes, met with the sight of Rhys standing in front of her nest before the fabric starts on the floor, holding a tray.

“It’s time for dinner, and Mor said you might not feel like leaving your room again today, so I brought dinner to you,” he explained with a smile. “Is it alright if I set the tray down in your nest, Feyre?”

Feyre nodded, and he placed the tray down in front of her as she disentangled herself from the body pillow and sat up.

He then dragged a chair over to the side of her bed, being mindful to not interfere with the boundary of Feyre’s nest, for which she was grateful.

In Spring, most of the maids had been mindful of her space, but Ianthe had never shown any care to keeping Feyre’s nest intact. This was a welcome change. Maybe she should stand up to Ianthe when she gets home…?

“How are you feeling, Feyre? Not too tired, I hope.”

Feyre blinked at him, the violet of his eyes catching her gaze. “Oh, uhm, I’m fine, thank you Rhys. A short nap helped, and the food Mor brought me for lunch was so good.” She turned her attention to the tray Rhysand had set in her nest and pulled it towards her. “This looks amazing too,” Feyre said, and started eating the thick slice of lasagna and roasted vegetables. “It is amazing.”

Rhysand chuckled. “It’s one of my favorites, lasagna was always a special meal for my brothers and I growing up. It meant we had done a good job that day, good enough for my mother to spend a few hours preparing the dish, all to put a smile on our faces,” he reminisced, a wistful look on his face.

“That was very kind of her, she must have cared about the three of you a lot,” Feyre said, thinking back on her own mother, who had hardly lifted a finger for Feyre’s well-being before she passed.

“She did. She did.”

The rest of their meal was spent in a comfortable silence, with Feyre still brushing her fingers against her different nesting fabrics every few seconds.

“When did you want to return home, Feyre?” Rhysand asked after they had both finished, a serious look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re obviously nesting, I want to make sure that you still feel comfortable being away from Tamlin.”

“Oh. Normally I… don’t actually go in to heat for at least three days, I should be able to make it to the end of the week.”

Rhysand considers it before adding, “Let me know if you do feel it starting, either Mor or I can take you back to Spring immediately. And there no need to worry, I won’t add any extra time to your future stays, Feyre.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre replied with a smile.

“Now, I think I’ll leave you to sleep, I’m going to head off to bed myself,” Rhysand said as he stood, gathering all of their dishes together and heading out of the door. “Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Rhys.”

The door snicked shut, and Feyre stood from her spot in her nest.

Pajamas. Then she can go to bed. She rifled through the wardrobe before pulling out a pretty purple nightgown that matched the soft she was wearing, made of a smooth satin that Feyre was dying to have on her skin all night. She removed her dress and slipped her nightgown over her shoulders. The fabric felt just as lovely as she thought it would.

Feyre stumbled back to her nest, falling into the middle of it. She pulled the body pillow back to its previous position and wrapped a soft, pink blanket around herself.

Between the food warming her stomach and the soft fabrics surrounding her, Feyre fell asleep in just a few minutes, floating on a sea of clouds in her dreams.

Series taglist: @icey--stars

[potatoplace]

Omega Needs - Chapter 5

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 4 | chapter 6 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, nothing else that I can think of

Words: ~6.5k

Author's Note: it's here! Very heavy on explaining magical growth, just fyi. Nothing to complicated, and I think I made it all make sense? Anyways, I'm super excited about this chapter and the next one, I'm hoping to have C6 out in a couple of days if I can manage it. Also I love making Rhys obviously care for Feyre, he's so sweet and considerate towards heeer 🥹

18+ only pls

🩵💜🩵

The book was fascinating.

Feyre had no idea how complex the magical growth process was before reading, no one had bothered to explain it to her, she had simply went on believing that there was some type of magical core that stored the power.

While there was a core holding spot, located in the body’s center of gravity according to the book, that was present from birth. In the first ten or so years of life, depending on the fae and the size of their initial core, the expansion of power is slow, but after the tenth birthday or so the first major expansion happens.

The magical core pushes outward, burning new channels into the body to carry magic, starting with the blood vessels. Pain was expected with each new expansion, the magic making a physical mark inside of the body to increase the overall capacity.

Feyre frowned, knowing that she had never felt any kind of expansion through her body. Though, with being Made, that process could very well have happened before she returned to her body from that endless void. She pressed a hand to her chest, attempting to find any kind of warmth or something that would indicate a well of power within her. But, there was nothing. She shook her head and continued reading.

Up through maturity, fae would continue to have magical growth within their body, every few years or if they consistently exhausted their magic. At around 50, when almost all fae are considered to be adults, growth usually stops, leaving the fae with their fully formed magical core. The only exception was to those with extremely large cores, such as the High Lords or their heirs, who typically had an expansion every century or so to keep the magic from eating away their body.

She wondered if Rhysand continued having them, being known as the most powerful High Lord in history.

He’s probably bragged about it to the other High Lords before, she thought, snorting at the image her mind created. Rhysand, standing in front of Beron, boasting about how “his core had tripled in size in the past few centuries, could he believe it? And what about you, Beron?” With his signature smirk.

She made it through the first two chapters before Nuala knocked on her door.

“Come in,” Feyre said, sitting up from her slumped position on the bed.

The door opened, revealing the wraith carrying a tray with a couple of dishes on top. Feyre stood, stretching her limbs and shaking the stiffness from her body.

“I brought you some lunch, Feyre. There’s soup, bread, and…” she turned around, revealing a midnight blue, large cylindrical cup with a lid. “This, I thought you might like something to keep water in that won’t spill everywhere.” Nuala offered the cup to Feyre, who took it and screwed the lid off, taking a few large gulps of water, not having realized how thirsty she was while wrapped up in the book.

“Thank you, Nuala, this is perfect. And I’d completely forgotten about lunch, I’m so glad you remembered! It smells wonderful, thank you,” Feyre said gratefully, taking a seat at the table.

“It’s no problem at all, Feyre. Rhys had asked me if you’d had lunch yet, and wanted me to bring you something soon before it would spoil your appetite for dinner,” Nuala replied, walking out of the door after she’d flashed Feyre a soft smile.

Feyre smiled to herself, genuinely touched that Rhysand seemed to care for her well-being. Nearly everything he had done since she had arrived proved that.

The soup was divine, and Feyre spied the same blend of root vegetables as were in the stew yesterday, this time with chicken instead of beef, what looked to some type of mushroom and soft spiralled noodles. It was spiced gently, a comforting flavor that she thought would be perfect if she ever caught an illness like a cold or flu. There were two delightfullly flaky rolls as well, and a nicely sized pad of butter waiting to be spread on with a knife. The meal was perfection, matching wonderfully with the slightly chilled breeze that was wafting in from the open wall in front of her. Both meals she had taken in her room were a lovely match to the autumn season, and she couldn't help but wonder why back in Spring, they only ever attempted to eat for the true season they were in at solstices.

Perhaps it was the lack of root vegetables that grew in Spring, but surely the courts traded goods among themselves?

Feyre shook the thought from her head, it isn't truly important what type food she eats, the food back in Spring was lovely as well.

Once she finished her meal, she crawled back onto her bed, laying on her stomach with a pillow underneath her chest, feet kicking lazily in the air as she continued onto the next chapter.

This one covered the actual expressions of magic that began appearing as fae aged.

Supposedly, the first signs appeared from birth to the first year, small things, like a candle being blown out when the window is shut, or a blanket being singed lightly.

After the first year, the magic fades, only returning in greater force and frequency once the child was around five, their core having expanded a bit more.

Feyre furrowed her brow. She and Tamlin had been trying adamantly for a child over the past year. Feyre herself wanted to bring a sweet, new life into this world, someone that she could protect as much as possible from the cruelty of the world. She wanted to watch her and Tamlin's child grow older, turn into their own person. Tamlin had been interested in that as well, but a driving force for him was the need for an heir to continue his family's bloodline, something that Feyre was all too happy to do for him.

But, if they were trying for a child, why had Tamlin not at least explained some of the basics of what to expect before they started?

Though, seeing as how no facets of her possible magic had been explained to her, perhaps he had assumed she knew implicitly somehow, or that Ianthe had explained it to her. And if he had, well, he was definitely incorrect. Feyre felt so in the dark now, having learned more in one afternoon than in a year back home.

Feyre promised herself that she would talk to him about it when she returned home.

She had nearly finished the chapter, longer than the first two, when another knock came on her door, prompting her to close the book and sit up.

“Come in.”

The door opened, revealing Rhysand who stood in a fine black suit, a welcoming smile on his face.

“Dinner is ready, Feyre. If you’re ready now, we can walk down together,” he suggested gently, still giving her an out in case she would rather go alone.

Feyre smiled back at him, getting up from her bed and sliding her flats back on. “I’m ready now.” She crossed the room, shutting the door behind her, and his scent washed over her. Every time, it made her heart flutter a little bit, which confused her but she took as just another interesting development in her body since becoming an omega.

Rhysand beamed at her then, another clear sign that he truly wanted to be friends with her.

They walked together to the table they had breakfast at, and a mouthwatering smell overtook Feyre’s senses the closer that they got to it.

On the table was a pan holding a roast, beef if Feyre was correct, surrounded by perfectly tender root vegetables. There was a bowl of mashed potatoes, a carafe of gravy, and large loaf of bread on a cutting board, steam still wafting from it as they sat down.

Rhysand began to carve the roast, giving two large slices to Feyre and scooping a hearty portion of vegetables onto her plate as well, then served himself. Feyre helped herself to a large spoonful of mashed potatoes, making a dent in the middle with her spoon after passing the serving spoon into Rhysand’s hands. She poured a generous amount of gravy on, even pouring a small amount on top of the roast.

Feyre had gone to pass the carafe to Rhysand, when she looked at his face, a look of bemusement on it.

“What?”

“You made a hole for gravy in your potatoes.”

Feyre raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Rhysand shook his head. “Nothing, you just reminded me of one of my brothers,” He said quickly. “Cassian always did love to have as much gravy as he could fit on his plate,” he stated with a fondness in his eyes, taking the gravy from her hands and pouring some on his potatoes before setting it down.

“I didn’t think you had any siblings,” Feyre voiced, never having seen anyone who even resembled him Under the Mountain. Then again, Feyre had not seen Mor until this morning.

“Oh, Cassian is more of a brother by choice, we met in the Illyrian camps when we were young. He, Azriel, and I have been thick as thieves since then, and considered ourselves true family regardless of our blood,” Rhysand answered as he cut the loaf of bread, passing a slice to Feyre, and she couldn’t help but smile at the softness in his face when he talked about them. So many different sides to this male, so many different facets of his personality that she had barely gotten a glimpse at.

“That sounds nice, having a family that you love because you want to, rather than being forced to,” Feyre said as she buttered her bread, thinking about her still human family. How difficult it had always been to just survive around them, every day like walking on eggshells to keep a fight from exploding and destroying them once and for all.

“I am sure that the two of them would love to call you their sister,” Rhysand offered. “If you would like to meet them at some point, I could ask them to visit while you’re here.” Feyre thought about his suggestion for a moment, then nodded.

“That would be nice, I think, to meet them at some point.”

Rhysand smiled again. “I’ll float the idea past them this month, then. And I’ll make sure to check with you before they show up, they can be a bit… much. Cassian especially, he can be similar to a very excitable puppy at times.”

Feyre snorted at that, then took her first bite of the roast, suppressing a moan at the flavor. The meat was so tender it melted in her mouth, the flavor of the vegetables and whatever spices were used pairing perfectly with it.

Rhysand was watching her again, and she quirked an eyebrow at him, causing him to take a bite of his own meal.

They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, before Feyre set her fork down.

“What are the blue and brown vegetables called?” She asked.

Rhysand blinked at her, swallowing the bite he had been chewing.

“They’re both native to Illyria, the blue one is a called ilpato, and the brown one is parillya.”

Feyre nodded her head, trying to remember the names. Ilpato and parillya. “What’s Illyria?”

“Well, the Illyria is a vast expanse of lands, particularly brutal year round, with the Steppes almost always having a layer of snow on them. It’s home to the Illyrians, a race of fae known for their inherent killing power and large wings.” Those same wings suddenly appeared behind Rhysand, taking Feyre’s breath away. They were beautiful, brutal, yes, with clawed tips at the apex, but the leathery expanse of them was black until the light hit it just right, making the delicate membranes visible.

Feyre’s fingers itched to commit them to canvas, paper, anything at all.

“My mother was Illyrian, and I thank her every day for the wings she gifted me. We value the freedom of flight above all else, and there has yet to be a sensation to compare to it in my life.”

Feyre’s mind ran wild, and she could almost feel the breeze in her hair.

She longed for that feeling. Pure freedom.

“Is your mother…?”

Rhysand loosed a sigh. “No, she and my sister passed quite some time ago, though I miss both of them dearly every day.” A wistful smile graced his face, and he continued, “They both would have adored you, that I know for sure. They always did like someone who could challenge me the same way they did.”

A blush crept onto Feyre’s cheeks, and she shoved a bite of creamy, gravy covered potatoes in her mouth.

The rest of the dinner passed comfortably, the two of them finishing their plates at the same time.

Rhysand walked Feyre back to her room, those massive, breathtaking wings still out, and the two of them lingered in her doorway for a moment.

“Have a good night, Feyre.”

“You too, Rhys. Dinner was amazing. Tell Nuala and Cerridwen that they outdo themselves with every meal I’ve had since arriving.”

Rhysand smiled, and Feyre could have sworn she saw a bit of extra color in his cheeks.

“I will, darling, they’ll be happy to hear it.” And with that, he walked away. Feyre watched him for a moment, before entering her room and closing the door behind her.

The sun was setting, and Feyre wanted nothing more than to take bath and watch it slip below the horizon.

She padded over to her bathroom, kicking off her flats just outside the door. She shucked off her sweater and leggings, tossing them into the laundry basket inside of the bathroom. Grabbing a hair tie and putting it up into a bun, Feyre sank down into the tub, submerging all but her head.

The sunset was gorgeous, yellow fading to a pale orange, into a soft pink. It would make a lovely painting, she thought to herself.

Feyre let out a sigh, and turned her attention to the soaps and scented oils lined up on the edge of the tub connected to the wall. She sniffed a few bottles of oils, settling on sweet blend of lavender and orange blossom, a scent that instantly made her relaxed and a little sleepy. Pouring a small amount directly into the bath then placing it back in its spot, Feyre reclined back against the edge of the tub, soaking in the view and oil’s scent.

Taking her time, she leisurely washed herself, getting out once the sky had turned to purples and blues and drying off with a fluffy towel.

Feyre returned to her bedroom, flinging open the wardrobe to pick out pajamas for the night.

She flicked through the nightgowns, stopping on one that was made of a soft, sheer fabric in a pale pink. The long sleeves puffed out into wide sleeves that would still feel comfortable and free while sleeping, and the bottom of the dress would probably reach her ankles. Feyre pulled it off of the hanger, slipping it over her shoulders. The dress was loose but comfortable, skirt of it wide enough that Feyre was tempted to twirl in it to see the way the fabric moved.

Feyre felt so girly in it, so soft and sweet. She wished Tamlin could see her in it, hear the words he’d whisper in her ear while he hugged her from behind. She wrapped her arms around herself, smiling like a lovesick idiot at the thought.

It felt different than the girly dresses she was given at home, perhaps it was that she had chosen to wear it, or maybe it was how comfortable it was in comparison. The ones in Spring were made of fabric that was the tiniest bit scratchy, or clung to her body just a little too much. And, the patterns Ianthe picked out for her… well, they weren’t Feyre’s taste at all.

She fisted the material of the dress, shaking it back and forth. The fabric moved like water, just as Feyre was hoping. It was beautiful.

Feyre walked back over to her bed, picking up the book Rhysand had given her and cracking it open once again, just to finish the chapter she had started before dinner.

It took her a half an hour, by the end of which she was yawning every couple of minutes. She placed the book on her bedside table, then peeled the covers back, climbing underneath them and placing her head on a pillow.

Feyre looked out at the stars, loving the way they glimmered in the dark night sky, and they were the last thing she saw before she drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

🩵💜🩵

The next morning, Feyre woke on her own to the sun already over the horizon. She let out a yawn, her arms stretching fully at the same time. She reached for her water cup, screwing off the lid and taking a few swigs before replacing it and setting it back where she’d grabbed it from.

Feyre stood up and made her way into the bathroom, nightgown swishing gently around her ankles. She brushed her teeth and hair, straightening out her appearance.

She felt more energized than she had in a while, almost like a weight was lifted off her heart. She couldn’t fathom why, though.

Back in her room, she picked out a matching lilac top and pants. The pants came up to her bellybutton and were loose until her ankles, where they came in to cuff her ankles, and the top was long sleeved and similarly designed to the pant legs, coming down to just above her bellybutton, leaving a small strip of skin visible between the two pieces of clothing. The lilac looked lovely with her skin tone, still fairly pale but less so than a year ago, and the clothing itself was comfortable and easy to move in. She picked up a pair of matching slippers, sliding them onto her feet and walking to her door.

After leaving her room, Feyre made her way into the library, wanting to find some kind of adventure or romance story to read for the day in addition to the book on magical development. She wandered through the stacks, and finally found herself in what seemed to be the fiction section. Perfect.

Feyre picked out a few books that seemed promising; a romance about an affair between a princess and her personal guard, one about a band of thieves recruited by their court to infiltrate their enemies, and another that was just a simple slice of life of an omega and her alpha starting a family. She was excited to read all of them, though it was likely she would only get through one during this week.

Feyre made her way back to her room, already reading the one about a princess as she did.

And then she crashed into something solid.

“Good morning, Feyre darling,” Rhysand said amusedly, and when Feyre looked up at him he had a grin on his face, his violet eyes staring down at her and scent filling her nose. His wings were hidden again, how he managed that trick, Feyre wanted to know.

“Oh, Rhys, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, closing the book that had crushed against his chest and stepping back, her cheeks turning a bright red. “I suppose I shouldn’t be reading while walking, hmm?” Feyre shook her head, then asked “Is breakfast ready yet?”

“Yes, I was just coming to get you, Feyre. Mor is eagerly awaiting you, she nearly chased me down here herself but coffee seemed to be more important,” He chuckled, turning to walk with Feyre back to the door of her room.

“I’ll just go set these in my room, okay?” Feyre opened the door, rushing inside and chucking the books in her bed, coming back into the hallway and resuming their walk towards the dining table.

“I’m glad you’re exploring on your own a bit, I know it must still be a bit unsettling being in a new environment,” Rhysand said as they walked.

“Ah, well, I wanted something else to read along with the book you loaned me,” Feyre admitted. “The book is very interesting, but sometimes it’s nice to have something a bit mindless to do, for me at least.”

Rhysand nodded his head in agreement. “I understand that. Sometimes it’s nice to have a different world fill your head instead of the one that contains all of your problems.”

“You get it,” Feyre said as they approached the table, Mor waiting impatiently with a stack of catalogues on the table in front of where she was seated.

“Feyre! Good morning, lovely! Now, I know you didn’t say yes to my offer for shopping booklets, but I decided that I would bring them to you anyways, just in case the mood to spend Rhys’s money does come to you,” the alpha said, placing them to the side of Feyre’s plate after she sat down. “There are some for furniture, bedding, nesting fabrics, books, clothing of course. I think I also managed to snag a cosmetics one in case you wanted some. Oh and a couple little pamphlets from restaurants that I love!”

Feyre swiped through them quickly, the one boasting about nesting fabrics catching her eye. She’ll look at that one the first moment she’s alone.

For now, Feyre looked away from the large stack, turning her attention toward the plates of food.

Fluffy pancakes were stacked on a large plate, perfectly golden on each side and sweet smell wafting from them, sausages piled on a plate next to them and another large bowl of fruit like yesterday morning.

Feyre stabbed a two sausages, putting them on her plate before doing the same for Mor. Rhysand grabbed his own, spooning a good amount of fruit onto his plate as well, then doing the same for Feyre and Mor.

“My, my, you two are so helpful,” Mor said, watching them serve the food. She picked up three pancakes and dropped them on her plate, pouring some sweet, rich maple syrup on top of them and immediately carving into them.

A blush rose to Feyre’s cheeks. She had never been one to willingly serve people before becoming an omega, but now it was a simple way for her to show her care and respect. And truly, she loved it. A small act of service could bring a smile to a loved one’s face, and that was much more important to her now that she had come back to life, everything seeming more precious to her than before.

“I just like being nice when I can,” Feyre explained, grabbing three pancakes for herself. She buttered the top of each one, placing them in a stack on her plate, and then poured a generous amount of the syrup onto them. She carefully cut out a slice, stabbing the pieces and taking a bite. “Oh Mother, these are good!” She said once she finished swallowing.

“Yes, well, we do have the best cook staying here with us,” Mor explained. “They love to make delicious food to keep our guests happy and well fed.”

“Compliments to them,” Feyre replied, taking another bite of the heavenly pancakes.

“I’ll make sure to pass it along,” Rhysand says, sipping his coffee and watching the two females in front of him.

There was silence for a few minutes as they ate, lasting until they were nearly finished eating.

“So, Feyre, if you could travel anywhere in Prythian, or even the continent, where would you go?” Mor asked.

“More questions again today?” Feyre asked before thinking on it for a moment. “I suppose the Dawn Court sounds nice, I have always loved watching the sun rise.”

Mor nodded her head. “The Dawn Court is an amazing place, they have so many beautiful fields of flowers in the Spring and Summer! Maybe we could take a trip there during blooming season?”

It was enticing, the idea of exploring the world beyond the lands of Spring she had seen so far. “That sounds lovely, Mor. We could even make it a little girls’ trip, just the two of us.”

“Perfect! Oh, I’ll start planning today! How does seven months from now sound? That would be right around the peak blooming season, I believe.” Feyre nodded her head in agreement. “Rhys, you’ll talk to Thesan for us, please?”

“Of course, cousin, anything for the two of you,” He said easily, a smile gracing his face. “But for today, Feyre, I’d like to pull you away for training. We can go over whatever you’ve read, then practice shielding and calling on your magic if you feel up to it.”

Feyre’s head bobbed up and down as she finished her last bite of sausage, pushing her plate away. “That sounds like a good plan, Rhys.”

“Ugh, training. Count me out,” Mor said as she stood up from the table, taking her coffee mug with her.

“That’s fine cousin, you weren’t invited,” Rhys replied, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, fuck off Rhys, you know I’ll help out with her at some point if Feyre would like.”

“Yeah, Rhys, Mor might be a better teacher than you are,” Feyre jested, and Rhys looked to her on mock offense.

“How rude are the two of you? Come on, Feyre, let’s go before she rubs off on you more,” He said, holding a hand out to Feyre after standing.

Feyre took it, getting up from her chair. Mor had already wandered off after sticking her tongue out at Rhys.

He led her back to the training room, ushering her inside and to the cushioned chair on the right. Sitting across from her, he clasped his hands together. “So, how far into the book have you gotten so far?”

“I got three chapters in, up through some of the beginning expressions of magic.”

“Good, that’s a fantastic start Feyre.” Feyre felt her cheeks heat slightly at the praise. “Did you have any questions about any of the information?”

“Not directly, more about… how you believe it relates to me,” Feyre stated, slightly worried about what his answer might be.

“Personally, I believe that when you were brought back you were Made with an adult sized magical core, and it is simply taking its time to expand into your bloodstream. Now, are you absolutely sure that you’ve had no instances of magic expressions?” Rhys asked, staring into Feyre’s eyes.

Feyre thought hard on it, and realized that soon after coming back to Spring a year ago, a dress had caught fire in her room. Ianthe had been insisting that Feyre wear it, but the pattern was horrid and the fabric and cut was far too uncomfortable for Feyre to willingly wear.

It had burst into flames when Ianthe went to take it off the hanger, and they had all simply assumed that it had caught fire from the lit candle nearby.

Now, though…

“I might have accidentally set a dress on fire a year ago.”

“Well, then, you might have a compressed growth period, with only one expression before your core began to slowly expand. If that is the case, Feyre, you are most likely near your first expansion.”

“So… what would that mean, exactly?” Feyre couldn’t quite wrap her head around it yet.

“I expect that within the next three months or so your core will push into your bloodstream and carve new channels for your power to expand into. Think of it as though you are going through the first ten years of your life in a little over a year, magical growth wise. You magic is attempting to make up for being largely undeveloped in an adult body by accelerating the process, most likely expanding as quickly as your body is able to handle.”

Feyre slowly nodded her head, thinking she understood the likely situation now.

“I do have one more question- about the expansions? How much do they hurt?” She asked quietly.

“The first expansion was definitely the most painful for me, at least, my core had nearly doubled in size by the end of it. But as you grow older, they become less intense, for the most part.”

“Ah… something to look forward to, I suppose,” Feyre joked sarcastically. “How long do they usually take?”

“It can take anywhere from a few hours to a day or two.”

“Constant pain?”

“Near the end it tapers off into a dull ache or itch that you can’t satisfy, but before that, yes.”

Feyre sighed. “And you think mine will be worse?”

Rhysand nodded. “You most likely have a large magical core already, and as your first expansion it will be creating the largest amount of new pathways throughout your body, it will most likely last a day or more, you may even need to be kept sedated for your safety. I am sorry, Feyre.”

“How wonderful,” Feyre replied drily before shaking her head, attempting to clear her anxieties about her possibly expanding magic.

“Well, enough of this downer talk, Feyre darling, let us begin to build your mental shields, if you’re still willing?”

Feyre bobbed her head, mentally preparing herself for what’s to come. While he had promised to be gentle, she was sure there was only so gentle someone could be while in someone’s mind.

“Start by picturing something very solid surrounding your mind.”

“Seriously?” Feyre asked.

“Yes, Feyre, I am serious. You will need something sturdy that can encompass all of who you are, without any cracks or places weak enough that someone with ill intent can slip inside. The fundamentals to shielding your mind are, quite literally, creating a shield around your mind,” Rhysand explained. “It may sound silly to do at first, but it is incredibly important to have a solid foundation.”

Feyre narrowed her eyes slightly at him before closing them, accepting that she would have to do this, no matter how silly it felt to picture a large stone wall around her mind, similar to those surrounding the manors she had seen in the human lands.

It was thick, sturdy, made of large chunks of stone cemented together, rising over ten feet high.

“Alright Feyre, I’m going to test your defenses now, if you’re ready.” Feyre nodded, her eyes still shut as she focused on keeping that wall built in her mind.

Slowly, inky tendrils of night caressed the wall, searching for any weaknesses.

It took maybe four seconds for it to begin spilling through a crack in the wall where the stones met, and as it did a haze slipped over Feyre’s thoughts, the wall crumbling to dust.

The night pulled back as soon as it did, and Feyre came back into the room, Rhysand still seated across from her. A slight sheen of sweat had formed on her skin, even from such a small attempt to protect herself.

“That was an amazing first shield, Feyre,” he said warmly, causing Feyre’s cheeks to heat yet again. “What did you notice?”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she thought about it. “The mist- you- slipped through a small crack in the wall, one that I didn’t even know was there.”

“Precisely. A Daemati will know where the common weak points generally appear, it’s normally in the areas that we don’t think twice about being secure, especially when using fae or human made structures.” Rhysand paused, looking Feyre over. “As we go through this, Feyre, remember that this is a learning process, one with a very sharp curve for learning how to control magic and shielding concurrently.”

“Rhys, I will be fine,” Feyre insisted. “I taught myself to shoot a bow and arrow as a child. I can handle having a few stumbles with learning this, I promise you.”

“Very well, Feyre. If you’re ready, we can try again.”

“Yes, please,” Feyre said, beginning to form a smooth, solid wall made of one continuous piece of stone. None of it appeared to have any cracks or crevices in it, but she supposed only time would tell.

“Nod when you’re ready for me, alright?”

Feyre nodded a moment later, and the dark wisps of power began creeping along the wall of her mind once more. It searched for something to grip onto, rip into but found nothing, only pushing further and further up the wall.

It was then that Feyre realized her mistake.

She quickly began attempting to create a roof over the wall, something to keep Rhysand’s power out, but it moved to quickly and slinked over, that same hazy feeling coming over her mind before retreating just as fast as it came.

“Wonderful Feyre, you figured out my next lesson before I’d even gotten into your mind. The wall must encase all of your mind, otherwise I can simply pass over the wall and easily access your mind.”

“Hmm…” Feyre hummed. “Does it need to be a wall, or can it be something else surrounding it?”

Rhysand smiled at her proudly. “It can be whatever you want it to be, Feyre. No two mental barriers are exactly alike, they reflect the person they protect.”

Feyre knew what her wall would take shape as, then. Something that could cover her entirely, but she would not be lost in.

“I’m ready for you to try again, please.”

Rhysand sunk into the space around her mind, suddenly floating on a body of water that had no end in sight, tumultuous waves crashing against his power. “Clever, Feyre darling. Very clever,” he purred into her mind, and the waves stilled for a moment before picking up in intensity once more. “Where are you hiding?” The mist floated along the surface of the water, taking a moment before diving down. It sank deeper and deeper before finally landing in front of its prize.

“There you are, darling.”

The mist stroked along the dome along the sea floor, sensing Feyre’s presence underneath. It’s touch was gentle, reminiscent of a lover’s caress. A moment later, he pulled away, retreating entirely from her mind.

Feyre’s body felt heavy, tired from the exertion of keeping up a mental shield.

“You have done astoundingly well, Feyre, for only your first day shielding!” Rhysand said, looking genuinely impressed with her progress.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre said bashfully. “But why didn’t you try to break in?”

“Well, I’d prefer to take your training slowly to build up your strength before we attempt any true attacks, that way we avoid any unnecessary pain.”

“Oh. When do you think I’ll be ready for that?”

Rhysand smiled at Feyre, before explaining “It will be entirely up to you, Feyre. Except for this week, of course. But for now, I’d like to move on to your magic itself. Have you tried reaching for it yet?”

Feyre bobbed her head. “I have, but I haven’t been able to feel anything. My chest just feels… cold. What is it supposed to feel like?”

“For me, it feels like a warm, comforting spark inside of my chest, right between my lungs. Just try focusing on that space as much as you can, tune everything else out.”

“Including your voice?”

Rhysand chuckled, responding, “Yes, Feyre. Even my voice.”

Feyre did as he said, narrowing her focus to the space between her lungs. After a minute, she could swear she felt a gently pulse, cold feeling in her chest. No warmth, but at least it was there, wiggling slowly with each breath.

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s… that’s amazing. It’s like there’s something living in my chest.”

A soft chuckle escaped Rhysand’s lips, staring at Feyre intensely. “It can feel that way, especially when beginning training. As you progress, it should start to feel more like an extension of you, a piece of you so intertwined with your body that you won’t be able to imagine life without it anymore.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She placed her hand on her chest above where her core resides. “When will I be able to access it? My magic, that is?”

“If you feel up to it… You could try right now,” Rhys said, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched her. “Try summoning one of the High Lord’s powers- wind, fire, water, ice, light, and darkness, any of them would be suitable. Pick the one that calls most to you, in this moment,” he instructed.

Feyre nodded, picking through the options he listed. Fire, she had called on before. Maybe it would be the easiest?

She imagined a spark coming to life above her fingers, holding her palm out flat.

Nothing happened, and Feyre furrowed her brow.

She concentrated harder, trying to create any extra warmth in her fingers- but nothing.

“Feyre, try another element.” Feyre narrowed her eyes at him, continuing to try and bring fire to her skin.

Nothing.

Feyre sighed in frustration, feeling more tired than before, and she’d only been attempting for a few minutes. “Nothing is happening.”

“I told you, it won’t be easy, Feyre. It takes time, just be patient with it.”

Feyre settled back in her chair with a pout on her face. She tried summoning a bit of light, this time.

Still. Nothing.

She cycled through the powers, attempting each of them for at least five minutes before moving on. She was getting tired, her body slumping further and further in the chair.

“Alright, Feyre. I’m calling practice for today. Come on,” He said, extending a hand after standing in front of her. She took it, grateful to have help getting to her feet.

They exited the room, walking at a leisurely pace towards her room in silence.

“Feyre, you did amazingly well today, better than most would with learning to shield, and on top of that, learning to access you magic is incredibly difficult,” Rhysand praised once they arrived at her doorway, color once again gracing high on her cheeks. “It also takes a large amount of energy, which is why you’re feeling so tired right now. I’ll have Cerridwen bring you lunch in a half an hour, alright?”

Feyre could only nod her head at him, so exhausted and ready for a bath that she just slipped into her room, beelining her way to the bathroom.

She pulled off the matching set of clothing, damp with sweat, tossing it into the laundry bin. Feyre tied her hair up into a bun again, sinking into the water quickly, a contented sigh leaving her lips.

Feyre’s eyes closed. They were so heavy now, it was hardly worth it to keep them open.

She pictured herself floating on that dark, tumultuous water. Pictured it calming, her body resting at peace on top of the water.

She floated off into the distance, sleep claiming her body.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars

[potatoplace]

More pregnancy cuteness stuff because I cannot get ENOUGH this was most of what I thought about at work today

These are a lil spoilers-ish but mainly just cute moments once you're pregnant, nothing rlly plot relevant

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

When you all know that you're pregnant, Feyre and Rhys are so ecstatic, and instantly more protective. The three of you stay in your bedroom for two days, until you finally wake up before them and sneak down to the kitchen, where you see Cassian. He congratulates you, and suddenly Rhys is there punching him in the stomach for talking to you. Feyre grabs you and pulls you upstairs (I can't wait to write this omg)

Feyre is the most excited for you to have a bump, and when you finally start showing she can't keep her hands off of your stomach unless she has a meeting to go to.

Once you can't fit in your old clothes, you have a breakdown in front of the mirror one morning. Feyre catches you crying, and reassures you that you are absolutely perfect. She takes you shopping for some new clothes, making sure you know just how much she loves your body the entire time, and being very touchy (ahhh)

At least one of them walks you to your bakery every morning, and back home in the evening. You always hold hands, and if it's too icy out one of them will carry you. They do the same if your feet are hurting you. Feyre will always bring you a drink when you walk home, normally a tea or cocoa, and Rhys brings you a treat from Jayla's cafe, normally a cookie of some kind.

The two of them insist on feeding you whenever you let them, always making sure you're stuffed. They need to make sure baby is getting enough nutrients, after all! Rhys likes to pull you onto his lap to feed you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder once you're sleepy and full.

Feyre helps dress you every morning, usually picking out your clothes for you so that you don't have to think about it, after too many mornings spent crying about how it didn't look how you pictured. Feyre doesn't mind, she loves dressing you in the cutest clothing, and making sure you'll be comfortable in what you're wearing all day.

Eventually, you have to hand over the day to day operations of your bakery when you're put on bed rest. Feyre and Rhys try their best to keep you resting, but you beg them until they let you go and oversee things for a couple of hours. One of them will stay with you, monitoring how tired you get and whisking you back home once you show any signs of discomfort.

You wake up in the middle of the night one time, needing a chocolate cake, right then. You sneak down to the kitchen, careful to not wake your mates. A little while later, Feyre comes down and nearly drags you back to bed before you convince her to just let you stay up and let the cake bake. The two of you sit on the counter, yawning with your head on her shoulder and her head resting on yours, hands interlocked. When the cake is done, you let it cool for a few minutes before you cut a large slice, and the two of you share it. You let Feyre drag you up to bed, leaving the cake on the counter. In the morning, Rhys wakes up first and goes to start breakfast, and comes back to wake you and Feyre up to ask if you'd heard anything strange (worrywart lol)

Baby clothes shopping!! The absolute best thing ever, all three of you agree. There are so many adorable outfits, you think that you bought one of each in every shop in Velaris. Needless to say, your child will never go without clothes. Or toys, if the amount Rhys buys is anything to go by.

Feyre paints a mural on each wall of the nursery, one for each one of your life's stories (tamed down, of course!), and the remaining wall is the one of your love story (AHHHHHHHH)

Feyre also paints two portraits of you when you're heavily pregnant- one in the Hewn City, the official portrait that she wants for you. And one with your bump showing, you only clothed in a few swaths of fabric to keep your modesty (Feyre had wanted a full nude). Feyre took forever on the second one, she spent so much time staring at you in all your beauty, enthralled by you. (You also pause for a few make out sessions, you can't help it, Feyre is looking at you like you're the Mother herself)

Rhys is able to create a recreation of the night sky on the nursery ceiling, with stars that trace patterns to help soothe your child to sleep. He also works painstakingly with Arana to create the perfect furniture for the nursery, ensuring that the crib is as safe as fae-ly possible and that all areas that could hurt the baby have protection enchantments on them. He does the same for the rest of the house, and your home is baby proofed five months before the baby is due.

You are extra needy when other omegas around, nuzzling further into your alphas without thinking about it. You can't help it, you need to get your scent all over them so those other omegas don't try to steal your perfect, perfect alphas. Maybe you do understand why Rhys and Fey are so protective...

I love these three so much 😭 I am so so sooo excited to get to this point in the story, but the build up is going to be so worth it!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh I just had to get this out they're taking up so much space in my braaaaain

Pregnancy cuteness stuff for you can have it (cause that's a ways off and I keep thinking about the cuteness of iiiiit)

If you don't want to know what cuteness lies ahead, feel free to skip this!

Feyre and Rhys are very adamant about getting reader pregnant- they try as often as you let them, and they're both firm believers that an omegas pleasure increases fertility

Your scent changes slowly, but once it's noticeable the two of them are all over you, constantly scenting you

Doctors visits are a weekly occurance for you, sometimes twice a week if one of them is fussing over a symptom you're having (usually Rhys)

Morning sickness is no joke, and one if not both of them are always there, holding your hair back

If one of them leaves your side for more than an hour or leaves the house, they bring you back a gift or treat.

Once you start having cravings, Feyre and Rhys go above and beyond to get you what you need- including cooking or baking for you (well, Feyre sits on the counter with you and looks cute/gives you aaall of the attention while the two of you watch Rhys)

When you sleep, Rhys and Feyre sleep on either side of you, Rhys closest to the door. They keep one hand on your bump at all times no matter which position you sleep in.

Once they can hear the baby's heartbeat, Feyre spends at least a half an hour with her ear to your stomach listening every day. When Rhys is feeling stressed and tired, the two of you curl up on a couch together, with you sitting on one end (with a pillow, of course) and Rhys laying with his head on your lap and an ear against your tummy.

They become even more protective, even going as far as to growl at any alphas that enter your bakery, until you finally break and put an end to it. They grovel a bit, and tone down their aggression towards everyone who comes within ten feet of you.

Once you start nesting, Feyre is always with you. She helps you do everything, coaxes you to eat and forces you to bathe even if she has to drag you from your nest (as much as it hurts her to hear you cry). Rhys brings replacements of fabrics every few days, and they switch them out while you're asleep. Rhys brings food for the both of you, and anything he thinks of that you might want- from cute stuffies to books to tea and treats.

You start having emotional outbursts after a couple of months, mainly over your alphas- how cute, pretty, sexy they are, if they get you something you cry about it until they hold you and stroke your hair.

When you're finally in labor, Feyre and Rhys are absolute messes. They take turns sitting behind you and supporting your body, but for every tear you shed, they shed one too (or more).

I'm just obseeeessed with these threeee I'm so excited for everything about this series! I can't wait for possessive, jealous Feyre and worry wart Rhys. I love them so much alreadyyy and I haven't even written them yeeeet

[littlest-w01f]

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

All my Cassian works and WIP (not in order)

Lady Bloodshed (mini-series) [Cassian x Assasin!OC]

Summary: She was the deadliest assassin in the Night Court, someone who could do anything for the right amount. Her newest mission was to take down the general of Night Court, but something held her back once she was face-to-face with him

part one part two part three

Little Family (mini-series) [Cassian x Single mom!OC]

Summary: When Cassian comes to pick Feyre up from her work, he sees a new girl with her, a girl who sits to herself silently and doesn't talk to any other children, his whole world shifts on its axis when the girl's mother walks in to take her home

part one part two part three part four

Hands Starfall week (Cassian x Reader) {fluff with hints of smut}

Summary: Cassian just wants to hold Reader's hand

Devine (mini-series) [Batboys x CoN!OC]

Summary: Rhysand is getting older, and he, along with his general and spymaster, needs to claim an Omega before his Alpha instincts take control of him completely and he is rendered unfit to be a High Lord, lucky or unluckily for him, Kier has an idea.

part one

Sensitive (Batboys x Reader) {smut}

Summary: Rhysand shows you he and his closest friends aren't put off by blood

Cassian Appreciation Week 2024

[rosanna-writer]

WIP Wednesday

Cooking up a little Feysand as an alpha x alpha couple adding Lucien as their omega! Tentative title for this one is every night with us is like a dream

In the end, it was Rhysand who'd broached the topic. Even as High Lady—and as an alpha—Feyre still found it difficult to ask for what she wanted. "Stay the night, Lucien," he said as the meal came to a close. "There's plenty of room for you here." "Is there?" Lucien said, voice sharp. Almost an accusation, but not quite—a challenge at the very least. In another court, it would have gotten him in trouble. Omegas, after all, did what they were told, and that was doubly true when the orders were coming from a High Lord. But not in the Night Court. "It's not a command, just another option available to you. Consider tonight an opportunity to decide whether you'd like to spend another heat cycle among the humans or here instead." Lucien's gaze slid to Feyre, who said quietly, "It's been a long time since an alpha's taken proper care of you. Let us."