#alpha!mor

[potatoplace]

You Can Have It - Chapter 1

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 2 | 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, death (brief and non graphic), most likely a LOT of future smut, this is a pregancy plot fic so keep that in mind

Words: ~4.2k

*Reader is a half peregryn, half high fae, presenting as a peregryn with white wings, with white blonde hair and ice blue eyes from her Winter Court father

*Title taken from Chelsea Cutler's 'You Can Have It,' I feel like the general vibe of the song works well with how Feysand will react to reader (with less alcohol)

Author's Note: It's heeeere I'm so happy! No Feyre or Rhys yet, but we'll get there in the next chapter or two. I'm so excited to build up the bakery and upstairs apartment, and the grand opening will be fun! I hope you guys like this chapter.

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

“I love you, Nanna. I’ll never forget you, and all that you taught me. I will miss you so, so much. I’ll see you in the next life, but you go have fun for now. Go make all the pastries that you ever dreamed up, bake and make people happy, just like you did here, Nanna. I love you,” you whispered as your grandmother’s chest stopped moving, her soul leaving with her last exhale. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed her hand one last time.

“Y/N, we need to move her,” Viviane said softly from behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder while avoiding your wing.

“I know,” you sighed, squeezing your Nanna’s hand one last time before standing. She led you out of the room and out of the infirmary altogether, taking you from the place where you had spent months tending to your grandmother as she slowly died, a curse that was spilling through her veins for so many years.

“Have you packed everything yet?” Viviane asked you as the two of you walked back to your quarters near the kitchens.

“Everything besides what I use daily, but it shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes. Are you still willing to winnow me?”

“Of course, Y/N. I wouldn’t have anyone else do it, not after all you’ve done for us,” Viviane reassured you with smile. The two of you were already at your room, and Viviane stood in the doorway as you packed up the rest of your things. “You know you could go to one of the villages nearby, or even have your own shop in the market here. You don’t have to move out of the court…”

You sighed. The two of you have had this conversation multiple times, the outcome always the same: you’re still leaving. “I know, Viviane. And I would stay, if… if everything wouldn’t remind me of her. She’s been my only family for the majority of my life, the reason I lived here, knew you in the first place. I can’t… I can’t see her ghost around every corner, right now.”

“Well… If you ever want to come back, you know we’ll be happy to have you, no matter what. And don’t even think about trying to repay us, I will have Kallias send the gold straight back to you if you do,” Viviane said as she watched you. “And you promise to write to us and let us know when you’re ready for us to visit, yes? Your shop does not even need to be open for us to visit, your company is worth the travel.”

“Yes, Viviane, as soon as I feel settled I’ll write you for a visit.” You had finished packing, your belongings fitting in two leather travel bags. All of your life you had rebuilt in the past six years was now contained to such a tiny space.

You took one last, longing glance around the room that had been your home for the past six years, and the first twenty five of your life as well. So many memories, most of them happy and including your grandmother. Loosing a sigh, you finally turn to Viviane and pick your bags up.

“I’m ready.”

Viviane came to your side and grabbed your arm, and then the two of you were slipping through the fabric of the world, making a few quick stops between the Winter Court and your destination. Your new home.

Velaris, the City of Starlight.

In the five years since the victory against Hybern, the city had been opened to visitors and, in select cases, new citizens. You were lucky enough that Viviane is friends with Morrigan, and that you were employed by and friends with Viviane. She was able to secure you the right to move to the city, and a business license that was cleared pending an interview with Morrigan on your arrival. In less than a minute, the two of you were outside of a cozy looking townhouse, set on a busy residential street and near the river that split the city in two. There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground, and the city looked like a winter wonderland.

Viviane raised her hand to knock, but before she could the door had swung open, revealing a gorgeous blonde woman in a red dress and high heels with a wickedly sharp heel that would most likely cause you to topple over. Her scent, cinnamon and a sweet citrus, was calming, and very clearly alpha.

“Viviane! I’m so glad you could make it!” The blonde, Morrigan you assume, embraces your friend tightly for a few seconds before letting her go and turning to you. “And you must be Y/N! Welcome the Velaris, I do hope the city ends up being what you’re looking for.” Her tone was sweet and excited, and her chocolate brown eyes held such warmth that you couldn’t help but trust her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Morrigan. Viviane has told me so much about you,” you say as you take her hand in yours for a handshake.

“Oh, call me Mor dear, Morrigan makes me feel like I’m being scolded! Now, come in, we’ll get that pesky little interview out of the way and then we can go take a little tour of the city, maybe find you a place for your bakery.”

The two of you follow her inside, and you’re struck by how… cozy and homey the house was. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, what with your opinions on the Night Court having shifted drastically in the past few years, but this was definitely one of the best outcomes.

Hopefully you would be able to find a space to create as your own, make it feel just as if not more welcoming than this house.

“Sit, sit,” Mor says as she leads the two of you into a sitting room, taking your bags and setting them on the floor next to a couch, before taking a seat on the chair opposite it. Viviane sits on the plush couch, and you follow suit, the lower back of the couch perfect for your wings to rest over. “So Viviane tells me you want to start a business here in Velaris?”

You nod your head in confirmation. “Yes, I would like to open a bakery, if there is availability for a new one in the city.”

Mor smiles, and it’s warm, like sunshine. “I’m sure we can find a suitable place not too close to another bakery or café. Viviane has told me you have experience in the baking field?”

You swallow, a lump suddenly in your throat. You’d known this would come up, it was inevitable, after all. “Yes. I was the head baker Under the Mountain for thirty years, after my grandmother had irritated Amarantha one too many times. I was her pastry sous chef assistant for the twenty years before that as well, and I started baking at six years old.”

“And how old are you now?” Mor asked.

“I am 81, currently,” you answered quickly. “I hope that isn’t an issue?”

“Oh, no, no,” Mor shook her head. “I am sorry to hear that you were forced to work for Amarantha for so much of your life. I do hope that you find working in Velaris to be much more fulfilling, and nicer.”

“I- Are you offering me a business license? Just like that?” You asked incredulously.

“Yes, I am Y/N. Kallias and Viviane have both vouched for you, they believe that you are more than capable of running your own business. And they’ve told me that you take care of the baked goods for all of the High Lord’s household. I trust that you will be successful, based on their testimony alone. Hearing that you worked Under the Mountain, though…” Mor paused. “Knowing that, as well, you will be a fine business owner.”

An invisible weight was lifted off of your shoulders. You are a resident and future business owner of Velaris now. “Thank you, Mor. This opportunity means so much time,” you say gratefully.

“It’s no problem, Y/N. Now, would you like a tour of Velaris and to see where you’ll be staying for the moment?” Mor asked as she stood from her chair.

You followed suit, smoothing the skirt of your dress as you did. “That would be lovely, Mor. Viviane, are you able to join us?”

“No, I should be getting back to Kallias soon, we still have a few winter parties to finish planning and he prefers to have my input,” Viviane replied, following you and Mor out of the townhouse. She stepped toward you for one last hug, holding you tightly in her arms until you pull away. “If you need anything, Y/N, write to me.”

“I will, Viviane. Thank you, for everything.” Tears pricked your eyes, even though you know you’ll see your friend again, likely in the next couple of months. “I’ll write to you even if I don’t need anything, too, keep you updated on my life here, Viv.”

She lets go of your arms, stepping back slightly. “You’d better, Y/N. I want to know all the juicy details, especially if you find an alpha,” Viviane said teasingly. The other omega knew how badly you craved to have an alpha, a love strong enough to tie you together and eventually have a family with them. The sex of the alpha doesn’t matter to you, just that it’s someone who understands you, and values you despite your submissive personality and ‘lesser fae’ status, someone that you love equally.

“I’ll make sure to keep you informed on that front as well, Viv,” Mor chuckled, and you threw a playful glare in her direction. “What? I figure you might like to have a friend here, and I have to warn you, I’m a bit of a gossip.”

Viviane laughed, “‘A bit’ is an understatement, Mor. Take good care of my girl, okay?” Mor nodded, giving Viviane a hug as well before the silver haired female winnowed away.

“We’ll leave you bags in the townhouse for now, I’ll come back and get them later for you once you’re settled in your hotel,” Mor says, taking you by the arm and walking away from the townhouse, leaving you no choice but to follow. She took you first to the Palace of Bone and Salt, a commercial area dedicated to fresh and dried meats, spices, baking goods, along with any cookery and bakeware you could ever need.

There were a few shops already that you were dying to go in to, you’d never had much of a chance to pick out your own pieces of bakeware, let alone enough to stock a bakery. There were so many different options that you wanted to explore, but you knew you could wait to lose yourself in the possibilities until you were alone. Next Mor showed you a few shops, ones for clothing items, bedding, shoes. A bar named Rita’s, which she promises to take you to after you’ve settled. Then her favorite restaurant, a small, cozy placed named after its owner and chef, Sevenda. The heavenly smells coming from the windows were enough to convince you to return for takeout later tonight, even without Mor’s enthusiastic recommendation.

And then you were in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. A section of town dedicated entirely to fabrics in every shade of every color imaginable, huge tables covered in glittering gems, an amount of wealth you had never seen displayed so casually before. People were milling about, and you tucked your wings as close to your back as you could manage, not wanting strangers to brush against them any more than necessary.

There were a few shops dedicated solely to custom gowns, their displays filled with gorgeous dresses decorated with intricate embroidery and small gemstones that shined like the stars. You had never before considered wearing such fine clothing, but now you wanted to feel the slip of the fabric over your body, experience how it feels to be dressed like a princess.

Someday. Someday I will save enough money, and buy a beautiful gown, all by myself, you promised yourself as you let Mor lead you across a bridge on the Sidra to the next Palace.

This one was the Palace of Flame and Steel, a district reserved for weaponry, armor, building materials and tools, as well as a few competing construction guilds. Mor guided you to one of them, apparently the one that the High Lord and Lady had trusted to build their new home next to the Sidra.

“Ah, Marcus, I would like for you to meet Y/N,” Mor said, and Marcus extended his hand to you. His scent was soft, pine trees and fallen snow- an alpha. You take it, noticing his strong but gentle grip. Your shoulders relax slightly, wings spreading slightly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Marcus said in a friendly voice.

“The same to you, Marcus,” you reply, a slight dusting of pink on your cheeks. He is rather handsome, for a High Fae.

“She will more than likely be needing your services, Marcus. Y/N here is planning to open a bakery somewhere in town in the next couple of months,” Mor informed him with a bright smile, one that he flashed back at her, and then turns it toward you. Your breath catches slightly in your throat, and you instinctively smile back at him.

“That sounds nice, I always enjoy a new place to eat at,” He said, still grinning at you.

“Well, once I’m up and running you’ll be more than welcome to drop in whenever you want.”

“I’ll look forward to that day, Y/N. Come back once you know where you’d like to build or renovate, and we can draw up some plans together, okay?”

You nod your head in agreement. “I’ll make sure to do that, Marcus. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you Marcus,” Mor said as she led you out of the shop and back towards the Sidra. Once you were a few buildings down, she asked, “So, do you think he’s cute?”

Your face flushed, and you managed to push out an “I suppose…”

“He’s pretty niiice,” Mor sings, still tugging you along the road next to the Sidra. “And he doesn’t have an omega.”

You shake your head at Mor. “I know Viviane mentioned me finding an alpha, but that’s not really my goal at the moment Mor. And I can also find my own alphas,” You say lightly, tugging on her arm as you did. “Also, you move fast, already trying to set me up.” Mor laughed at that, and you giggle a bit as well as the two of you continue walking, passing cute houses and apartments as you do.

“Well, you’re possibly the cutest single omega in the city at the moment, and Marcus truly is a kind male. And you needed to meet him anyways, for any building needs related to your bakery.” Mor stopped in her tracks, holding you in place by your arm. “This, is the Rainbow,” Mor announces to you.

You gaze around, taking in the colorful buildings that housed everything from painting studios to dance halls. You spied quite a few art supply stores and pottery shops as well, everything so beautiful that your eyes couldn’t choose just one place to land.

Mor draws you further in to the artistic section of town, walking more slowly than any other area you’d gone through today, and you had your wings tucked in tight behind you to avoid brushing against the other fae. Your eyes catch finally on a beautiful painting, one of a cosmic green light fall in the night sky, and you stop moving, taking in every brush stroke on the canvas as quickly as you could. It took your breath away, it was such a magnificent rending of something you could only wish to witness.

“Ah, that is the High Lady’s rendition of Starfall this year,” Mor tells you once she saw where your eyes had locked onto. “Feyre is a magnificent artist, she even hosts classes whenever she has the time, if you’re interested.”

You tear your eyes from the painting to look at Mor. “Oh, I don’t think I’d be any good, really. The most my artistic skills stretch beyond baking is for sketches of my baking,” you laughed, turning to continue your tour once more. “And I’d like to get the bakery up and running before I do many extracurriculars.”

“That makes sense, I suppose, but it’s a good thing to keep in mind. Feyre lets me sneak wine in, so even if my painting turns out terrible, I still have a great time.” The two of you were near the end of the colorful street when you spotted it.

The perfect location, right next to the river and on the edge of the Rainbow was a small one story building, a for sale sign in the window. The building looked decrepit, nearly ready to fall down in your opinion.

You pulled Mor in the direction of it, and let go of her arm to walk around the back of the building.

The view was absolutely lovely, the noise of the river soothing to your ears. You stretched out your wings as you closed your eyes and just listened for a moment, ignoring the noise of the people behind you. Snow was covering the open space behind the building, mostly untouched compared to the streets you had been walking on with Mor.

“Would I be able to buy this lot?” You asked Mor as you spun to face her. “This feels like the perfect place- and there aren’t any other cafés in the Rainbow, as far as I could tell.”

“Of course, Y/N. This building just went up for sale, as well, the previous owner retired a couple of weeks ago.”

You smile at Mor, your eyes sparkling brightly. “Just my luck, then. Do you know about how long it would be for the sale to go through?”

“It should take no more than a few days, Auric seemed very ready to get rid of the place. I’ll set up a meeting for the two of you later today, and if it’s not too late I’ll swing by your room and let you know when it will be. But for now, let’s finish out the tour, then I’ll take you to your hotel,” Mor suggested, holding out an arm.

You grab it once more, allowing her to take you to the last Palace in the city- the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, dedicated to more meats, as well fish, fruits, and vegetables. There were stalls with vendors cooking street food, bowls of noodles and burritos that all smelled delicious- you would definitely be coming back here to try something from each and every fae.

While you were well acquainted with nearly every type of baked good and dessert, different styles of cooking were something you hadn’t been exposed to very often before being trapped Under the Mountain. And while there, you were lucky to get anything besides the imperfect bread you would make.

And after all those years, you had just wanted to taste something familiar, so you stuck with the Winter Court fare you had as a child for the past six years.

But now, smelling everything here and Sevenda’s restaurant? You wanted nothing more than to taste every type of food that you could. Perhaps you would even think of new pastries in the process.

Soon enough, the two of you were back at the townhouse you had arrived in front of with Viviane. Mor popped inside quickly, returning with your bags. She passed one to you as she said “Now that you’ve seen the main parts of Velaris, it’s time to get you to your hotel room so you can relax a bit, settle in some.”

You both crossed the Sidra again, right as snow began to fall. You looked around, taking in the sight of glistening snow, your favorite weather in the world, falling onto the beautiful city that you could now call your own.

“It’s beautiful,” you blurted out without thinking. “Does Velaris suit every season so well?”

Mor looked at you from the corner of her eye, also taking in the scenery. “Yes, it does. I have found every city I’ve visited in Prythian to be beautiful in its own right, but Velaris seems to capture the beauty of every season the best. Of course, I am terribly biased, being from the Night Court and all,” Mor laughed.

She stopped in front of a large building, several floors tall with two balconies on each facing the Sidra. Mor opened the ornately carved wooden door, the words The Sidra Inn engraved on it, revealing a warmly decorated lobby. Behind the reception desk was a slim, bark skinned fae.

“Hello, Mor, it’s good to see you,” the female- a beta- said, extending a hand, which Mor shook readily. Then her eyes turned to you. “And you must be Y/N, our newest resident.” You nod your head in confirmation. “My name is Druana, I’m the owner of this quaint little inn.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Druana.” You take her hand as well, fascinated by the texture of her bark skin. “From what I’ve seen so far, your inn feels like home. It’s very warm, inviting.”

The fae smiles at you. “Thank you, Y/N. If you’re ready, I’ll show you to your room.” You look to Mor, who hands you your second bag.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours, Y/N. And if I don’t come by then, I’ll send a letter telling you what time I’ve arranged for you to meet with Auric. Do you want me to bring anything for you when I do come? Any food, clothing, nesting materials?”

Heat creeps up your neck at the last idea. “No, Mor, thank you though. I should be fine, for now. I’ll see you in a bit,” you said, parting ways with the friendly blonde.

Druana led you up a set of stairs and in front of a room on the second floor. She handed you a set of keys, then walked back the way you had come.

You turned the key in the lock, and opened the door to your new home for the foreseeable future. It was spacious, containing a large bed set against the left wall, a dresser, wardrobe, a circular table with two chairs on opposite sides, and your own personal bathroom and kitchenette. It was all decorated in cozy fall colors, reds and oranges and browns everywhere, and a fireplace against the right wall. Opposite the door was a set of double doors, likely leading out to one of the balconies you had seen from the street. You dropped your bags on the floor next to the bed, and went to look at the bathroom, it’s door next to the fireplace.

It was lovely, a deep tub that you knew would fill enough so that you could sink entirely beneath the water. There was also a large counter with two sinks, a large mirror hung above it on the wall. And of course, a toilet that looked suitable enough.

You returned to the bedroom, walking over to the set of doors and pushing them open.

On the street, you hadn’t been able to see the padded rocking chair and small table, but now that you had, you knew you would be reading in it, protected from most of the snow by the small roof covering the patio.

You went back inside, grabbing a romance novel that you had picked up a couple of months ago, but had never gotten around to reading. You also pulled a blanket from the bed.

Being from the Winter Court had given you a mild immunity to freezing weather, it was much more comfortable to sit covered in a blanket.

Before you went back on the balcony, your eyes snagged on the kitchenette- already laying out were a few boxes of tea. You placed the book and blanket on the bed and walked over to the counter.

You looked through the flavors before deciding on a basic green tea. In a few minutes you had brewed a large mug for yourself, and took it and your book and blanket onto the balcony.

You snuggled down into the chair, careful to position your wings so they weren’t squished or pinched anywhere. The blanket came next, and you wrapped it around your legs and dress as much as you could, then over your right arm.

With your left, you spread the book open, happily diving in to the story about childhood friends slowly growing to love each other romantically.

Friendship before love- that could be nice, you thought to yourself as you read, sipping your tea and looking out over the beautiful view of Velaris in front of you.

And now, most likely, you would be able to meet people who didn’t already know you as the tortured omega baker slaving away for Amarantha to keep her grandmother and Court as safe as possible.

Now, people would know you as the omega baker from the Winter Court, hopefully with a cozy bakery and the best pastries that they’ve ever had.

You lost yourself in the book, hoping the entire time that you would find a love to last you forever.

[robo-milky]

*yuuna stumbles into the infirmary *

[Ramshackle Clinic]

[therealmissmagoo2]

The Sims 4 - Nesta Archeron (9.11.24 Edit)

A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J. Maas **Spoilers** Title(s): Valkyrie, Oristian, & Emissary to the Night Court Age: 25 Species: High Fae, Mortal (formerly) Powers: Pure Death, Can Sense The Cauldron, Connected To The Mother, Linked To The Dead Trove

Tray Files - SFS

CC List - Patreon

Nesta - Ballroom Scene 🩰

Nesta & Cassian Training 💢

Nesta x Cassian 💙

[sirensongsea]

ARR » EW

[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Six

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: drug usage/mentions as usual, alcohol, mor/feyre/reader being fashion icons, reader & az being 'just friends', drunk girl bonding, reader being a sentimentalist and loving her friends

Word Count: 5.4k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

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There was a cramp in your stomach from laughing so hard— a pain made worse by the fact that Mor’s roughly concocted mimosas fueled the hilarity of every comment. She and Feyre were in stitches beside you, their snickers echoing off the walls as you all made your way down the stairs. It had taken a while, but you were finally ready to head out for the last day of Summit. The boys had been waiting with increasing impatience.

As you rounded the corner into the kitchen, Cassian looked up with a start, his hand paused mid-air, spoon halfway to his mouth. He choked as he took in the sight before him, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“What the hell do those say?” Cassian coughed, pressing his hand over his mouth as he swallowed hard. He stood up from his seat, and you bit back a laugh.

You three had been adamant about making your last day truly memorable. Somehow that had turned into throwing out any pretenses of looking cute or trendy. Instead, you three wanted something more sophisticated, outfits that showed your maturity. You’d each chosen special shirts for one another. 

Yours was a white tee with bold, unapologetic text: “I made your dad a bottom.” Mor’s shirt was a masterpiece of absurdity. She’d cut it into a sleeveless, oversized fit that hung off her frame with casual abandon. The front featured a stock photo of a muscular, awkwardly posed werewolf figure with the caption “Human by chance, alpha by choice” scrawled underneath in an ill-advised font. Feyre’s was also a true work of art. She'd played pretend offend for all of three seconds when she'd first seen it, giggling about how true it was. Her shirt boasted a crudely drawn frog holding a paintbrush, paired with the words “Dyslexic with tig bits.”

You exchanged grins with your best friends. 

"Aren't you gonna tell us how good we look?" Mor asked, placing a hand on her hip. She gave him a look of impatience, as if the time running by without her compliment was getting on her nerves. 

"I-" Cassian ran a hand across his mouth, tracing his mustache with extra care once he noticed her budding scowl. "Rhys! Az!"

The two boys emerged almost instantly, their mouths falling open in amusement as their eyes scanned the shirts. Rhys was the first to react, his face lighting up with a wide grin as he let out a low whistle.

“Pretty privilege lets you guys get away with way too many things,” he mused, his attention fixed entirely on Feyre as he approached her. He gently took her hand, guiding her into a dainty twirl to showcase her outfit.

Your gaze shifted to Az, who leaned casually against the wall, amusement dancing in his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. Mimicking his pose, you crossed your arms defensively. He shook his head, pushing off the wall and strolling towards you.

“Well, don’t cover up the art like that,” he said, glancing at your crossed arms. “I was enjoying it.”

You blushed, letting out a snort as you dropped your arms, gesturing dramatically to the shirt. Az’s eyes glimmered as he reached forward, his fingers lightly brushing the edges of the fabric. “Why this one?”

“Mor chose it for me,” you replied, your breath catching slightly. Azriel nodded in approval.

“Fitting.”

Cassian, now fully recovered, let out a hearty laugh. “Well, I’m feeling left out. You all look—” he paused for dramatic effect, “—exceptionally unique.”

“Good answer,” Mor said with a satisfied nod. She wrapped an arm around you, pulling you along with her as she walked towards the kitchen. “And isn’t the idea of dommy Y/N so hot?”

You groaned, your face flushing red as she giggled beside you. For the tenth time that morning, you begged her to stop using such a strange title. Her laughter only grew louder.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The merch line was long, but you didn’t mind waiting; the day was cooler, the sun less blistering than it had been, and the thought of having a physical memento from the weekend was comforting. Az had volunteered to keep you company while the others leisurely watched a smaller set on the schedule. There was an ease to this moment, the kind that settled in when time stretched out.

Azriel turned his head to look at you. His eyes scanned your figure and a second later he was shaking his head, looking away as a laugh left his lips. Your heart skipped a beat. Az’s laugh was something you coveted, a sound you’d become addicted to over time.

You waited until his eyes reached yours again to raise your eyebrow. "What?"

"That fuckin' shirt," Az replied. "I just can't get over it."

You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder as the line moved forward. "Don't judge. It's been a chick and dick magnet."

It was true. You'd gotten more compliments on your shirt than you'd ever received in your entire life— at least, drunk you seemed to think so. God, you needed to wear this outfit more often.

Azriel shook his head again, offering up his hands in surrender. "No judgment here," he said. He scanned you again, eyes glowing with a sense of contemplation. He pulled his cap off his head and placed it on yours. You tracked his movements with your eyes, watching as he took a step backwards and admired you as if he'd just created a masterpiece.

"Perfect."

It was an effort not to beam at the word alone, at how it seemed to anchor itself in your chest, resonating with a deeper meaning you were too embarrassed to fully acknowledge. You cleared your throat, ignoring the warmth that rolled through your body, surely collecting on your reddening cheeks. You placed your hands on your hips. 

"I look good?"

Azriel let out a small hiccup, a smile spreading across his face. "Oh yeah," he said, reclaiming his spot next to you in a few, easy strides. "You look like every dude in Rhys's frat."

Your smile fell. You attempted to give him a glare, to scowl, but Azriel's proud grin pulled a laugh from deep in your chest. "You said it looked good."

Az's smile curved, deepening into the crevasses of his cheeks. "And I meant it, you look great. Stunning."

There it was, that feeling again— that giddiness that left you fumbling for words. Something warm and silly spread throughout your chest. For a moment, you struggled to respond, fumbling through your mind to put together a coherent sentence. It was proving hard, so incredibly hard, when Az was looking at you the way he was.

"I didn't know frat boys were your type."

Azriel shrugged. "I didn't either. Guess we're both learning new things."

You playfully smacked him with your hand and reached up to remove his cap from your head. He shook his head, taking it back to adjust the band with nimble fingers. You watched him, noting the slight tremble as he refitted it to your head.

“You keep this,” Azriel said, securing it on you again. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You swallowed, fingertips brushing the brim. “Careful, Az. It might sound like you’re flirting with me or something.”

Azriel stared at you for a moment. His gaze was steady, searching. Do friends look at friends this way? Was it wrong to crave his gaze so deeply?

"What can I say," Az finally replied. The line moved forward. "I guess I just can't resist the pull of a frat guy."

Azriel brushed his palmalong the small of your back to guide you forward. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he removed his hand.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You weren't sure how much time had passed since Az left to go put all of the merch in the car. His instructions to you had been clear: stay in the same area so he could find you when he came back in. When he'd left, there was still around an hour until you'd meet back up with Mor, Feyre, Cass and Rhys. 

But Azriel's instructions left your mind the minute he was out of view. You'd reached that perfect point of being slightly crossed—mostly drunk, but not dangerously so— and everything felt vibrant. Alive. It made no sense to stand still or sit in a patch of grass and wait for Az to return like a sad codependent dog and its owner. No, that wouldn't do.

So you wandered, finding yourself by the food trucks, a new fruity drink in your hand. Non-alcoholic and entirely too expensive for its small size, but money didn't seem real to you. There was a large smile on your face as you weaved through the small crowds. You'd made around six new friends, random people you began talking to in line, those equally as drunk who voiced their love for your outfit. 

You barely registered when you bumped into a girl, the drink in your hand sloshing a bit. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” A soft voice exclaimed. You brought your attention to her face, taking in her long brown hair as she wiped a drop from her shirt. You were about to apologize then too, but then her eyes met yours. Something sparked in them. They widened, the brown glowing almost, and she beamed. 

“I know you!”

You stilled. “You do?” There was something familiar about her but you couldn’t quite place it. The smile especially. Something warm and friendly. 

“Yes!” she nodded eagerly. She grabbed the arm of a person next to her, pulling them into the conversation. Deep blue eyes and sandy brown hair. 

“Babe," the girl said, "This is the girl from yesterday!"

A look of realization formed on her partner's face. She turned to you again. "I was just telling them earlier about you. I took your picture yesterday."

They nodded, a small chuckle leaving their lips as they took a sip of their shared drink. "She was," they said, "The pretty girl with the boyfriend who had a sick wing tattoo.”

You blinked. Maybe you were feeling a bit slow today, a bit lethargic, or maybe you were a bit too gone to carry such a fast conversation. You let their words sink in, allowing your face to blossom into a smile. You recognized her face now, remembering the sweet approach she'd had to you and Az. The picture you now cherished so deeply. Your cheeks warmed. 

 “Oh, uh. He's not my boyfriend.”

The girl stilled. A sense of surprise flickered across her face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly, “just friends.”

She exchanged a look with her partner, a silent conversation passing between them, and then turned back to you with an intrigued expression, eyes slightly narrowed, lips still curved at the edges. 

"Really?" She repeated, as if her question would pull a different answer, one that may have satisfied her more. 

You gave a sheepish smile, shrugging your shoulders. You suddenly felt entirely too vulnerable, embarrassed in a way you hadn't felt since you were a child in kindergarten. She exchanged another look with her partner. 

“Does he know that?” They said. 

You shifted awkwardly, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, it's kinda weird, though. I don't know...” You trailed off, feeling the words slipping away from you. It was hard to articulate when your mind was so pleasantly hazy. You hesitated, then added with a chuckle, “It’s a long story.”

They both nodded. The girl looked at her partner before turning back to you. She grinned and shrugged, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Well, if you have the time, so do we.”

You furrowed your brows. She leaned in closer, like a best friend about to share a secret, and whispered conspiratorially, “I love a good storytime.”

And so, you found yourself sitting on a patch of grass, with Victoria and Jamie, as you learned their names to be, a band playing distantly on the stage nearby. The entire history spilled from your lips like uncontrollable bile, as if you were drafting a biography and starting it from the moment you met Feyre—because that’s when it truly all started. Almost four years ago, you realized.

You talked about freshman year, about your introductory philosophy class, your friendship with Az that blossomed into this deep, heavy crush. You told them about that almost-kiss, the one that lingered in your memory like a bittersweet stain, and even about your relationship with Eris. 

Victoria's drink was empty by the time you’d finished and the sun had dipped ever-so-slightly in the sky, now painting the festival in golden hues. 

 “Wow,” Victoria said, exchanging a meaningful look with Jamie before turning back to you.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I talked too much, didn't I?"  

“Not at all! That was incredibly entertaining. Felt like the plot to some kind of romcom,” she said, laughing lightly. Jamie nodded in agreement. You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“So… what’s holding you back?” Victoria asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied your face. You opened your mouth to respond, but she quickly interjected, “And do not say it’s because you’re not sure he feels the same. You’re wearing his hat.”

You offered a sheepish smile, bringing your fingers up to trace the brim of Azriel’s cap, still securely placed on your head. You’d almost forgotten he’d put it there. It made sense now, why your face didn’t feel as burnt as usual. It also felt silly to admit that it was a worry of yours--- that maybe Az didn't see anything romantic with you the way he once did, that maybe these small moments were doused in a platonic love, like that from Cass and Rhys, and you had deluded yourself into thinking too deeply about them. 

You shrugged, a small, helpless gesture. “It’s more complicated than that,” you mumbled, but your words felt hollow even to your own ears.

Jamie leaned forward, their gaze sharp and inquisitive. You resisted the urge to draw back at the eye contact, at how their blue eyes seemed to be reading you. They casted a glance at Victoria.

“Is it because of your ex-boyfriend?"

"What?" You frowned, letting your shoulders sag as the words ran through you. "What do you mean?"

They shrugged, sharing another glance with Victoria.

"You mentioned him a lot. And you said they all had a past. Maybe it’s some kind of guilt?”

Your eyes widened as you considered the possibility, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest. You hadn’t consciously connected the two, the strange anxiety and guilt that had bubbled throughout the week. But now that it had been mentioned, acknowledged by someone other than yourself, the thought lingered, a seed of doubt taking root.

Maybe they were right; maybe you’d been letting guilt hold you back from pursuing what you truly wanted. That extended to things far beyond the way you felt for Az. The truth was, you did feel guilty. You'd lost time with your friends when you and Eris dated. It was part of the reason why you felt even worse for not wanting to move with Mor— because you didn't want to disappoint her another time, to make her feel like you were choosing something else over her.

And there was Azriel. Azriel, Azriel, Azriel. Where was he anyways? You should go find him. Surely it's been too long. Were you spending too much time with him? Should you be at Mor's hip instead?  Your thoughts started swirling faster, more compounded and harder to process. 

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way,” you admitted, your voice quiet. "Maybe that's it."

Why was it so easy to be more honest to complete strangers than to yourself? Such a strange thing, you thought, as Victoria watched you carefully. Her eyes softened with understanding. There was a moment of silence before Jamie smiled encouragingly, gently placing a hand on her thigh. 

“I think Vi has something to show you.”

"Oh, right! I do." She beamed, eyes lighting up with excitement. She pulled out her phone and a few seconds later, she was holding it out to you, a photo on the screen. "This was why I was so glad to run into you."

The photo was taken the day before, during the set where Victoria had taken that picture of you and Azriel. This one was from behind, capturing Azriel’s arm resting naturally around your waist as you both watched the band. The sight stirred something deep within you. You felt a smile tug at your lips as you remembered how that moment had felt—comfortable, right, as if the world outside had fallen away, leaving just the two of you.

When you met her eyes again, Victoria grinned, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Watch the live,” she said, offering you her phone to hold in your own hands.

You listened, gently taking it and pressing down on the photo. It showed you looking away from Az, a soft smile on your face, and then, right after, Az looking down at you with an expression just as soft, one that you felt deeply in your chest. You let it replay a couple of times.

No wonder Victoria had assumed you and Az were together, had complimented you like a couple, told her partner about you both. If you were an outsider watching this moment, you’d think you were a couple too—so natural, so connected. What could be, if only you were brave enough to reach for it.

Victoria’s voice pulled you back. “It was fate that I ran into you again. The picture was so cute I was tempted to post it somewhere in hopes it got to you.”

Her words made you smile and you glanced at Jamie. The way they looked at her, with such tenderness and affection, was like something out of a fairy tale. It made your heart ache, longing for something similar. Azriel's laugh echoed faintly in your head. 

Jamie caught your gaze and nodded toward the phone in Victoria’s hand. “Friends don’t look at friends that way,” they said, their grin slightly teasing but gentle all the same. “Just so you know.”

Victoria sighed wistfully, leaning into Jamie as they wrapped an arm around her. "You know what I think?" You raised a brow, inviting her to continue. Her face softened as she met your gaze. "You should tell him how you feel."

You sighed, looking down at the ground. Admitting you felt something for Azriel could change the dynamic between you. And not only that, but the dynamic between you and everyone else. You liked where everything was at now. You didn’t want to ruin it.

“It’s just not that simple.”

“No one said it would be,” She said gently. She looked up at Jamie, her eyes shining a bit brighter than seconds before. “But sometimes, the best things aren’t.”

You had given Az similar advice the day before—urging him to chase his dreams and not confine himself to limitations. The irony of those very words being directed back at you now, especially about him, made you want to laugh. It felt oddly fitting and full-circle. Maybe you could write a paper about it. 

Jamie tangled their fingers in Victoria’s hair. They nodded in agreement, giving you a look that said: Listen to her. She's right. 

Victoria seemed to catch your hesitation and she called your attention with a gentle murmur of your name. "I'm serious," she said. "The regret of not trying will probably be much stronger than any guilt you feel now."

You smiled to yourself, picking at the grass around you and feeling the blades between your fingers. You looked at them again, amused at how your day had led you to this insightful couple and some much-needed time to spill your guts.

"You guys are so wise," you said with a small chuckle. "Y'know that?"

"It's these fucking spiked lemonades," she replied, lifting up her empty can. "They give me a fifth sense."

Jamie chuckled next to her. They patted her head gently. "Sixth."

"Huh?" She said, turning her head to look at them. 

"Sixth sense, babe," they said. "You already have five senses."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel had found you five minutes into your second conversation with Victoria and Jamie, his eyes wide and cheeks slightly red. He'd been looking for you for almost fifteen minutes, his countless calls having been sent to voicemail because your phone had been silenced. You'd apologized profusely, but Az had laughed it off, saying he was grateful that you had a shirt he could see from miles away and a hat he knew like the back of his hand. He greeted Jamie and Victoria, recognizing the latter almost immediately, and then jokingly thanked them for watching you while he was gone, making a joke that you were a wandering toddler with an affinity for shiny things.

Victoria shot you a knowing look as you both walked away.

You had a few more minutes before you were scheduled to meet the rest of the group, so you took the opportunity to enjoy the scene. You and Azriel wandered through the vibrant area of the festival where booths from local artists and craftspeople lined the grassy areas. The atmosphere was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of music from nearby stages. With everything around you vying for your attention, your mind stayed tethered to the conversation with Jamie and Victoria.

You stopped when you spotted a photobooth nestled between two tables, a vintage looking thing advertising two strips of 5 photos for 12 bucks. A steep price, but something in you was drawn to it nonetheless.

You looked at Azriel with a grin. “Does the photographer feel like being photographed?

Az raised an eyebrow. “I feel like no matter what I say, you'll somehow convince me to do it anyways.”

You smiled wider, biting your lip to keep it from spreading too much. “You know me so well.”

The space was intimate, practically needing you both to sit atop of one another. You gently took his hat off, placing it in your lap as Azriel’s arm slipped comfortably around your shoulders, drawing you even closer. The gesture was casual, something he'd done countless times before, but it sent your pulse racing all the same.

Azriel’s smile was warm as he looked into the camera and you found yourself acutely aware of his presence, noting the smallest of details despite the camera's low quality. The curls on his head, the sharpness of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled as he grinned. The smile on your face as the booth snapped its first picture was a result of staring at Az's reflection; your second smile came from the sound of his laugher, soft and genuine, filling the tiny space.

You reached out and gently cupped his cheek for one of the next poses, your fingers brushing against his skin. His expression softened. And then his fingers were grazing your hair, slowly tangling themselves by winding a strand around his finger.

As the fourth picture snapped, you noticed how he was looking at you—not at the camera, but at you. His gaze was steady and unwavering, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but felt in every fiber of your being. You turned to look at him, meeting his eyes with soft breath. 

Jamie’s voice echoed in your head, a distant but persistent echo. Friends don’t look at friends that way.

The space between you seemed to contract. You took a deep breath, feeling a familiar buzz of longing resurface. And suddenly, you were eighteen again, millimeters away from Az on that Halloween night. His eyes drifted to your lips.

Victoria’'s voice whispered next: The regret of not trying will probably be much stronger than any guilt you feel now.

Azriel leaned in, his eyes drifting shut as he brought his hand up to cradle your hair. Your breath hitched and you moved to close the distance, a sudden need filling your body. Azriel, your mind seemed to whisper, repeatedly like a prayer, Azriel Azriel, Azriel—

A sudden, blinding FLASH snapped you to reality. You both pulled back slightly, eyes wide, as the booth’s camera whirred to capture the memory you’d just almost shared. Azriel blinked, clearing his throat, and you scrambled to pull back the curtain, stepping into the blinding sunshine. 

You fumbled with your shirt, trying to smooth it down as though you'd been caught in some misstep. The words, I made your dad a bottom, mocked you boldly. Avoiding Azriel’s gaze, you stared at the ground as he handed you the strip of photos. Your hand brushed his briefly, lingering long enough to feel the warmth of his touch as you took the pictures.

You glanced at the photos, then looked up to find Azriel already staring at you. You opened your mouth to say something, but a familiar voice yelling your names cut you off. Mor and Cassian came sprinting towards you with wide smiles. You shoved the photo strip into your bag. 

You smiled, making an effort to focus on the story Cass was animatedly telling as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side. But your eyes kept drifting back to Azriel, who seemed just as lost in thought as you. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were a sentimentalist at your core. 

For as long as you could remember, you collected memories. You stored them away like treasures, delicate and fragile, saving them for rainy days when you'd wrap yourself in nostalgia like a warm blanket. You wanted everything to have meaning, for things to make sense in a world that often didn’t. Perhaps that’s what led you to study philosophy—a major that let you think too deeply about everything, that encouraged you to seek understanding to a point where nothing made sense.

The Stoics believed that the practice of virtue was enough to achieve eudaimonia, a well-lived life. As you stood in the grassy expanse, watching the lights dance across the night sky and feeling the music pulse through your veins, you thought that maybe this was what they meant. Maybe this was a well-lived life—being surrounded by the simple joy of being alive.

The sun had long set and the sky above was a blanket of deep indigo. You'd all chosen to enjoy the headliner and final performance from a distance, preferring the open space behind the throng rather than being swallowed by the crush of bodies near the stage. From your vantage point you watched the massive crowd sway in unison, a sea of bobbing heads and glowing sticks. Every now and then flashing neon lights would meet your eyes, causing you to squint at their power. 

You could see it all—the band on the huge screens, the ocean of people, and the world alive around you. Your arms were intertwined with Mor and Feyre's as you danced together, singing the songs at the top of your lungs. Mor pulled you both closer and you felt her laugh more than you heard it, a rumble through her body as she beamed into the endless night.

Feyre laughed, and you watched as her gaze fell elsewhere. She squeezed you both before bouncing towards Rhys, hair flying wild and free. He caught her easily, their bodies swaying in perfect harmony and you grinned at the way they fit so effortlessly together. You stored the image of their smiles away in your mind.

Mor pulled you towards her, bringing your cheeks between her palms. Her eyes were glowing with a mixture of happiness and the alcohol in her system as she grinned.  "I'm so glad you're here!"

The words ran through you, warming every corner of your body as you smiled back to her. Distantly, you could feel the tickle of tears behind your eyes--- the urge to cry from a strange mixture of love, happiness, and guilt. You let your mind focus on that love as your smile grew wider. 

"Me too," you responded loudly. "I love you."

Mor's eyes lit up even more as she squealed, pulling you into a quick hug as she repeated the words back to you, over and over. When you pulled away, you found Cassian next to you, his strong arms wrapping around both of you, drawing you into his orbit. He twirled you and you laughed, moving with him until your world was a dizzy blur of colors and lights. And when Cass moved to pull Mor, you paused for a moment, looking around the crowd. You weren't quite sure what you were searching for. But your heart seemed to be seeking it, some craving.

 A few steps away were Rhys and Feyre, their faces lit up with excitement as they sang animatedly to Azriel. You turned your attention to him, observing his genuine smile and the way he moved to the music. Despite the proximity of your bodies on the same patch of grass, in this fleeting instant, he seemed distant, absorbed in his own enjoyment--- and you watched it with a sense of admiration. Your gaze lingered on his lips.

The craving you once had—whatever it was you had been searching for—faded as he laughed. 

You gently pulled away from Mor and Cassian, stepping aside to watch your friends dance. The scene was too perfect to let slip away unrecorded, so you pulled out your phone and captured a bit of it. The quality would suck in the darkness, the figures mostly shadow with laser lights painting them in brief flashes of color, but you didn’t care. 

A bittersweet ache ran through you. You'd never have this moment again. And if you parted ways after graduation, you'd miss out on many more moments like this. When you looked back up, Az was approaching you. There was a smile on his face that matched the warmth in you, a sense of peace that paired perfectly with that tingling excitement that Az often made you feel.

He extended his hand towards you. "It's time to take your own advice.”

You looked at his outstretched hand, then up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. He didn't need to explain his words further. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Almost instantly, your mind traveled to the countless times you had urged him to embrace the moment, attempted to pull him out of his head. 

You let out a determined breath and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you pulled him back towards the group. Mor and Feyre had blended into a new group, singing along and laughing with their new friends. Meanwhile, Cassian and Rhys were dancing in a playful, almost mocking manner, with Cassian humorously mimicking the way Rhys and Feyre had been dancing closely.

You tugged Azriel into the midst of it all, letting him guide you into a light twirl. The music wrapped around you, the lights casting an ethereal glow over the jubilant crowd. The world narrowed into this experience--- to you and Az surrounded by your friends, to Mor singing the lyrics to a giggling Feyre. 

The Stoics believed in many things. They believed in the value of virtue and the pursuit of wisdom, in accepting the things we cannot change, and most importantly, they believed in the power of the present moment. It is the only thing we have control over.

Your wandering thoughts from earlier were all true. You'd never be this young again. You'd never attend this same festival, never be this drunk, never dance like this in this exact constellation of friends and music. You'd miss out on many memories, many moments just as joyous. 

You’d never have this exact moment again.

But right now, it was all yours.

And that was all that mattered.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

For your viewing pleasure, here is the view Victoria had of Reader and Az:

drawn by the best and most talented ever @micahssketchbook

authors note: i wonder who that sweet sexy drunk best friend was named after.... @daycourtofficial any ideas?

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[littlest-w01f]

Devine

Batboys x CoN!OC (Kiana)

RYSAND MASTERLIST

CASSIAN MASTERLIST

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

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.

Cw: Mentions of underage girls/child brides, Rhys acting evil man

A/n: while participating in @acotar-omegaverse-week, I got an idea for a mini-series, so I had to...

part one

Presentation. That is what Kier had called this while talking to Mor, what none of the inner circle members knew it was, what neither of them had expected was seeing a line of omega females, all of them different ages, the youngest being eight from what Rhysand could see of the two faelings trying to hide behind anything that could cover them.

Rhysand stayed silent, watching the commotion of the younger omegas, the children, trying to run away, the elder ones who were almost a hundred standing still, looking nearly dead inside.

"Kier what is this!" Mor demanded, her eyes blazing with fury seeing the chaos in front of them, neither of the inner circle's faces were cracked of their cold Night Court persona, but Rhysand knew that Cassian and Azriel were just as disgusted as him and his cousin at the scene.

Kier stood in front, motioning towards the omega females, "Just a gift for the High Lord."

Rhysand's gaze swept over the assembled omegas, taking in their varied states, some trembling with fear, others seeming numb, a few even appearing resigned to their fate. His eyes lingered on one of the youngest, a nine-year-old girl clinging to her older sister, tears streaking down her face, but the elder female, a clearly bonded beta, gave no damn, shoving the child away from her. A wave of anger washed over him, but he tamped it down, knowing it would serve no purpose now.

"How very thoughtful of you," Rhysand said, a cruel smirk on his face, directed towards no one but Kier. The smirk on Rhysand's face sent chills down everyone's spine, knowing full well the implications behind those words.

"You… You can't be serious," Mor whispered, her voice trembling with rage and disgust at the scene, only for Rhysand to hear.

But Rhysand ignored her, getting up from his throne, the almost three hundred alpha made his way to the omegas, he looked at them, taking them in, the younger ones were barely old enough to acknowledge themselves as omega, or him as their High Lord or alpha, they were simply scared children, while the older ones, they bared their necks to him the second he stood up, they could sense his power, he knew he was powerful, a powerful enough alpha to dominate other alphas as well, it was all too fake in his eyes, they were pretending, trying to attract him.

He wanted to tear Kier a new one, demand what the male was thinking, he didn't want an omega, just like he knew Azriel and Cassian didn't. If he had one, he would claim them out of love, he wanted his omega to love to submit to him, and view him as alpha with trust in their eyes, not fear, or uncertainty. And the jewels and fancy dresses they were made to wear were almost laughable, as if money would've attracted him or would reflect on his choice.

Before he could make any move, he inhaled sharply, and he froze, that scent, he'd never felt anything else like it, never scented something that attracted him so much, he couldn't stop himself from seeing which omega it came from.

The scent hit him hard, like a punch to the gut. It was sweet, musky, and utterly intoxicating. He scanned the room again, searching for its source, his heart pounding against his chest. Then, he saw her, a petite figure huddled in the corner, her back pressed against the wall, her head bowed low. She was a mess of angry, tangled curls and her clothing, a corsetted dress, tight on her frame, she wore a giant pendant necklace that looked downright horrendous on her, taking from her features. Her scent, It was stronger here, near her.

She was beautiful, despite the clothes she had on, had she been his, he would've tamed her beautiful curls, bought her clothes that would go best against her pale skin, and put jewellery on her that would look lovely on her. There was something about her vulnerability that drew him in. Her innocence seemed untouched, untamed, unclaimed. And that thought alone made his blood boil with possessiveness. She was too pure, she wasn't faking anything, it almost felt like she was doing it without even trying, drawing him in by simply existing.

Rhysand approached her slowly, cautiously, as if afraid she might bolt. Rhysand stopped in front of her, towering above her, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. His eyes roved over her form, taking in every detail, the curves of her body outlined beneath the clothes that looked cheap on her, she was way too good for them in his eyes, the swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric of her dress, the flare of her hips. Her scent grew stronger, filling his senses until it was all he could think about, the only thing he could see was her. He reached out a hand, intending to touch her, to confirm that she was real, that she wasn't just a figment of his imagination, but paused, not wanting to startle her.

Instead, he spoke softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the air between them. "Who are you?"

Kiana had groaned in pain as the handmaid pulled at the strings of her corset, she hated it. She'd been forced to prepare for the High Lord's arrival for a week, she had been starved and dehydrated to lose weight, and her mother had pulled and pinched at the tips of her ears to make them look as if she was blushing, to look beautiful for the alpha, her father had told her to attract him, but she hated the thought, of being forced to be with an alpha, even if the omega in her cried for the familiarity of an alpha, to have a home with him, the thought of submitting to someone like the High Lord of the Night Court made dread fill her stomach, the thought of everything he might expect from her, she didn't want to be present around him.

The question caught her off guard, and she flinched slightly, her doe-like eyes widening as she glanced up at him. She bit her lower lip nervously, "I… I'm Kiana... My lord..." She stammered out, her voice barely audible. She shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze, the corset digging into her ribs, making breathing difficult. She was terrified, unsure of what was happening, but she knew she needed to stay strong. She was an omega, after all, born to bear children and provide comfort.

She fought against the urge to submit to him, his scent was too powerful over her, his presence putting a weight on the back of her knees, and she fought against the need to submit to him. He wasn't her alpha, she wouldn't kneel to him, something that intimate was reserved for a male she loved, not a random alpha with too strong pheromones. So she stood strong.

The corner of Rhysand's lips twitched upwards, amused and yet impressed by her defiance. "Kiana, hmm?" he mused aloud, his violet eyes burning into hers. He leaned down, close enough that his breath fanned across her face, her scent enveloped him, making his head spin, he needed her. "You're quite pretty, considering the atrocious state you've been left in," he murmured, glancing pointedly at her clothes. He straightened back up and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying her as though he were a sculptor appraising a piece of marble.

He leaned back into her neck, inhaling her scent straight from the strongest source, and he growled, "You are mine." He claimed her.

Kiana's entire world narrowed down to the feeling of his warm breath against her neck, the roughness of his voice when he spoke. She nodded, her mind still reeling from the shock of his sudden declaration.

Rhysand almost groaned as she leaned into him subconsciously, before the realisation that he had claimed her hit in and she stood up straight. "This is horrible, sweet." He whispered against her neck, his hand slipping behind her neck, unclasping the heavy necklace, making it fall to the ground, the very fake gem of it cracking when it hit the ground. "Come with me, pretty omega."

She followed him obediently, knowing that she had no choice but to obey. As she walked behind him, she tried to calm herself, reminding herself that she was an omega, meant to serve and please. This was her duty, her purpose. She hated it, she wasn't supposed to have an alpha who didn't care for her, someone like Rhysand was rumoured to have omegas on the side, but if she played her cards right, perhaps he would just keep her for show, maybe he won't try to sleep with her.

Kiana watched Rhysand take a seat on his throne, her ears were ringing, her thoughts a mess, she saw him looking at her expectantly, but she hadn't heard him. She took a deep breath, trying to focus on her breathing, the thought of making a male like Rhysand mad at her was enough to calm her enough to listen to him.

"Come now, sweet omega, don't make me repeat myself again," He had his legs spread open and Kiana was sure she would pass out, he surely wouldn't make her kneel between his legs, the thought of doing that, not only for a male she didn't know, but her cheeks heated up at the thought of doing it in front of an entire court, her ears burning, but he simply patted his thigh, "Take a seat."

Kiana hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, but ultimately, she did as she was told. She stepped closer to Rhysand's throne, her hands trembling slightly as she placed one upon his knee and upper thigh. Then, with a deep breath, she sat down, her skirts pooling around her. She kept her gaze lowered, unable to meet his piercing violet eyes. Her mind raced with thoughts of what could happen next, each scenario worse than the last. But she remained silent, not interacting with him even a little, even if her heart ached to want him as her alpha.

Rysand could sense the disapproval of his inner circle at playing Kier's twisted game as he spoke up, "This omega is mine."

The statement hung heavily in the air, echoing throughout the court. It caused a ripple of surprise and relief among those gathered, their gazes flickering from Rhysand to Kiana and back again. Some of them scoffed, others muttered under their breath, but none dared to challenge the High Lord directly.

But Rhysand ignored them all, focusing solely on Kiana seated so demurely before him. "Do you understand what that means, my little omega?" he asked her, his voice low and laced with a gentle tone, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

Rhysand waited patiently, allowing her time to gather her thoughts and compose herself. His eyes never left her, studying her reactions, her expressions, every subtle change that revealed how she felt about this sudden development. He could see the fear in her eyes, the confusion, but also a hint of something else, something stronger, more resilient. He found himself intrigued by this small, defiant omega who had been thrust into his life without warning.

"Look at me," Rhysand commanded softly, his tone inviting rather than demanding. When she finally raised her gaze to meet his, he smiled gently, a contrast to the harsh exterior he often displayed at how easily she followed his command when it wasn't as clear of an order as the one he had given her before. "I promise, there's nothing to fear from me, from any of us." he assured her, his words sincere despite the circumstances.

He reached out, tracing a finger along her jawline, his touch surprisingly gentle given his size and strength. "Trust is earned, not demanded," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in closer. "And I intend to earn yours, little omega."

Kiana's body trembled at the warmth of Rhysand's fingers against her skin, her breath catching in her throat. Part of her yearned to lean into his touch, to let go of her fears and simply bask in the comfort he offered. But another part, a stubborn, determined part, held firm. She knew better than to let her guard down around someone like him, no matter how kind his words or how gentle his caress.

Rhysand noticed the tension in her body, the way she stiffened slightly beneath his touch. He withdrew his hand, respecting her boundaries even as he wished she would relax, allow herself to be comforted by him. "It's alright, sweet," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

He sat straight, giving her space, his gaze never leaving her face as he observed her struggles. The omega within her clearly yearned for his touch, for the reassurance and protection only an alpha could provide, he didn't feel the need to comment on how she was picking at his pant leg, he was sure she didn't even know she was doing it. But the fear and uncertainty stemming from her current situation held her back. Rhysand knew he had his work cut out for him, but he was determined to help her overcome her fears and learn to trust him. He wanted her to trust him, to let her feel he would never hurt her.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Rhysand Taglist - @yeonalie}

{Cassian Taglist - @yeonalie}

{Azriel Taglist - @fxckmiup @annamariereads16 @saltedcoffeescotch @satorusemepls @fieldofdaisiies}

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand x reader: the afterglow

set after getting together but you don't necessarily have to read that to understand this one!

under the cut bc its over 1K!

tw: a bit of anxiety

-After you guys officially mated, you knew the world was gonna take it weirdly. 

-There’s never been a triad bond that would be so well known. 

-To be honest, you were mostly nervous about how the inner circle would react. 

-You knew they loved the three of you dearly. But you also weren’t stupid and knew this was unconventional. You also knew you were freaking over nothing but alas, you were still anxious about it. 

-In the middle of the frenzy, Rhysand sent a message saying that you had accepted the triad bond and you three would be gone for a bit. 

-When you guys came back, it was a party. Mor had hung up a banner that said “congratulations!” There was a buffet table full of foods that Elain had clearly worked so hard over. 

-Cassian was…collecting coins from everyone?

“I bet that you’d be the first to make the first move.” He explained. 

Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was you yelling at them that made the first move. 

“Did everyone know before we did?” you asked as he collected a few coins from Azriel. 

“Well, Rhysie isn’t subtle. Feyre was oblivious to your struggle just like she was to Rhysie-“

“Hey!” Feyre pouted. “You aren’t wrong, but hey!” 

You kissed her cheek. “And you!” Cassian pointed to you. “Are affectionate with everybody! Do you know how hard it was to convince Feyre and Rhysand that you actually liked them like that!” 

“I’m so sorry my reluctance to fuck our friends made your life harder.” You said dryly. 

He scoffed, “better be!” 

“Quit yelling at my wives, Cassian.” Rhysand said darkly, the alpha-asshole coming out. 

“Here we go.” Feyre muttered. 

“Made it two minutes this time.” Mor added. 

“Instead of two seconds.” Amren finished. 

Cassian gave you a smile that you had you wincing, because you knew what was coming. “Hey Y/N, want a ri-“ He didn’t get to finish because of the punch to his stomach from Rhys. 

“Welcome to the family.” Mor nudged you. “Even though you were already in.” 

“I’m just relieved I don't have to see Y/N pining anymore.” Nesta said from the doorframe. “Over twenty years of that bullshit.” 

You should’ve hit her harder when you were kids. 

Azriel, Lucien and Elain, like the sweethearts they were, just smiled without a sarcastic comment. 

-Your next worry was Nyx. How would you fit into his life? Would you be a stepmom or another mom? 

-You easily loved him more than anything, that was even before being mated to his parents. Now? Somehow you loved him more. 

-You were holding him one day when Rhysand sat down next to you on the porch swing. You were just enjoying the breeze with your-well it felt wrong to call him your son but you were his parents' wife? 

“How are two of my favorite living beings?” Rhysand said kissing you. 

“Good but what kind of greeting is that?” You chuckled. 

“I know he’s a person, but it’s weird to call him that. He’ll always be my baby.” He cooed and brushed back Nyx’s tuft of hair. 

Rhysand sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You leaned as much as you felt comfortable with Nyx in your arms. You didn’t like not being on your guard when you were holding him. He was precious. 

Rhysand kissed your temple, you felt peace. You were just missing one vital part. Feyre usually came home from the studio around this time. Rhysand and you had accidentally made it a tradition to sit out on the porch and wait for her. 

“Do you want kids?” Rhysand asked. “You don't have to answer now.” 

“I mean, I kinda have one now. Kind of late to say no.” You giggled and gestured to Nyx. “He may not be biologically mine. And I can be a stepmom or stay Auntie. Whatever’s the most comfortable with you and Fey. I don't want to overstep.” 

“Would….would you be one of his moms?” Rhys asked, you could tell he was incredibly nervous. 

“I would be honored.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving the baby's sleeping face. 

You missed the look of utter adoration that Rhys shot your way. 

Pretty soon, Feyre joined you guys on the porch coming home in paint splattered overalls and a paint stained face. She was glowing, you could tell how happy that studio made her. It made you incredibly happy. 

She leaned down to kiss Nyx, then you, then Rhys who pouted about being last. But he was okay with it, he loved your family so incredibly much. It kind of scared him what he’d do to protect it. 

Later that night, Feyre came up behind you in the mirror as you got ready for bed. She pressed her head against yours. Your cheeks lined up perfectly and were smushed together. Her arms were wrapped around your waist. 

“You are his mother, if that’s what you want to be”. She whispered. “I may have birthed him, but I would be honored to share the mom spot with you.”

“Fey, I just did my skincare, you can’t make me cry like this.” You said, your voice wobbly. She squeezed you tighter in response, her nose scrunching with her closed mouth smile, her eyes half closed and lips scrunched slightly. She kissed your temple and went back to Rhys. 

That was that. Rhysand was dad/daddy, Feyre was mom/mommy and you were mama. 

-The next thing on your list was how the court would see it. The Inner Circle doesn’t give a shit (which was to be expected) but the Court of Nightmares? That’s where you were worried. 

They didn’t take to Feyre that well, then Nyx. Now you. 

Rhys called you out on your bullshit one night while all of you were getting ready for bed. 

“What’s up with you? You’re more nervous going to the Court of Nightmares than you were before.”

“Well, we weren’t mated then.” You said back, you tried to avoid being snippy but your stress levels were high. 

Clearly, he knew you were being snarky because he gave you a raised brow and held his hands up in surrender. You sighed. “Ugh, baby I’m sorry.” You said. You set down your hair brush and crawled into his arms. 

His chest shook with restrained laughter. “Love, you’re allowed to be nervous-“ He was cut off by Feyre coming into the room. 

“Ooh, are we snuggling?” Feyre said. And with the excitement of a five year old she catapulted into bed.  

The three of you bounced and laughed. “I’m nervous about going to the Court of Nightmares.” You admitted, playing with a string on the blanket to avoid looking at Feyre. You could avoid Rhys’ gaze easily since you were sitting with your head laid against his chest and in between his legs. 

“Why?” Feyre brushed your hair behind your ears. 

“Because…” You made a helpless gesture. “It's really scary.”

“You’ve been there before?” Feyre asked. 

“Yeah well I wasn’t fucking the High Lord and Lady.” You sighed. 

“Okay, you aren’t just fucking us.” Rhysand squeezed your hip. “You’re our wife. What label do you want them to know you as? Consort?-“ 

“I’ll rip your dick off.” You growled. “Consorts aren’t treated with the respect they deserve.”

“Agreed.” He said. 

“Do you want political power?” Feyre asked with zero judgment. 

“You know that’s not why I married you two.” You grumbled. 

“But would you want it?” Rhysand pushed. His hands roaming over your skin, he knew how much the contact helped your anxiety. 

You shrugged. “It’d be a massive adjustment. However….I’d love to help people and actually have the power to do so. But there’s…”

“Hm?” Feyre continued to stroke your palm. 

“This is gonna sound bad but I don't mean it to be.”

Feyre smiled and based on the pulsing down the bond, Rhys was too. So you continued. “There’s no room for me to help rule.”

“Who says?” Feyre challenged. 

You sputtered and Rhys decided to take you out of your misery. 

“You know, there also wasn’t such a thing as High Lady when Feyre came into our lives.” He stroked down your back, his hands ending at your hips. 

“And?” You asked. 

“I rewrote that rule, and I’ll rewrite it again for you to be in it. You are our equal in every way and I refuse to let you be reduced to a ‘consort’ that is, if you want to be a High Lady.”

And that was it. The next day, the day you were supposed to head to the Court of Nightmares, you delayed it. Much to the confusion of your Inner Circle. 

You were sworn in as a second High Lady. 

How the Inner Circle found out was quite funny. Az had a feeling, Nesta and the Valkyries were happy for you. Mor and Amren just looked at Rhys with a secret High Lady? Again! Cassian used it as an excuse to celebrate that night so the group could ditch their Court of Nightmares persona. 

When Azriel introduced you, he said, “Rise for your High Lord Rhysand, Highy Lady Feyre and High Lady Y/N.”

The three of you walked in, you in the middle, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of you. 

You felt beautiful, respected. Even though you knew Keir would be a problem. 

You were alright with those problems, as long as you had your family with you.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Chapter II

Summary: After one last screaming match and a good cry, Feyre is finally ready to move on from her lousy ex and rebuild the life he took her away from. She didn't imagine she'd be right back in the thick of it, reviving buried feelings for her best friend's cousin.

OR;

Feyre dumps Tamlin, moves back to big city life, and gets herself an alpha who will treat her right.

AN: Omegaverse!Feysand, as promised. A gift for @whatishowedyouinthedark. If you hadn't posted Too Sweet, I don't know that this would have left the drafts. This ended up being 4.3k, but there will be a morning after chapter as well.

CW: NSFW, mildly dubious consent/coercion

Chapter I

“You sure you’re alright, Feyre?” Another ounce of weight seemed to lift from her shoulders at the soft worry in Mor’s voice. “I know you don’t really want to talk about this yet, but I’m always here for you.”

“I know. And I’m okay, Mor. I’ll be even better in, oh—” She lifted her wrist enough to glance at the time. “—six hours when you meet me outside SFO.” Her friend stayed quiet a moment longer. “I’ve wasted so much time and energy on that guy. He doesn’t deserve my tears too.”

“Damn right. I can’t wait to see you. It’s been so long, Feyre.”

“I know.”

That’s what it had really come to. The lost time. The isolation. A year ago, Feyre had been at the center of it all, her art sales lucrative enough to keep her head above water, her friend circle close but full of life. When Tamlin’s work had taken him out of the big city and to someplace more remote, Feyre had imagined it would be temporary. Her “nest egg” from her art sales would only need to hold her for a few months before she could dive right back into dealing with her clientele face-to-face.

But whatever silver lining her situation came with was in short supply. Hopeful as she had been once upon a time, nothing could change the fact that this move halfway across the country was made with only the purpose of separating her from the life and people she knew. Feyre was just ashamed it had taken her so long to see it herself. She’d confronted him last night and the truth had all come to light. “So what if your account is running low? Do I not take care of you regardless? I thought this was what you wanted, Feyre. Isn’t this what all omegas want? Someone to depend on?”

It turned out Feyre and Tamlin’s views on designations were worlds apart.

After a devastating break up fight and a good long cry, Feyre had locked herself in the guest room and called Mor with the promise that she was scraping together what she had left and coming home the next afternoon. “Say no more, Feyre. I’ll get Rhysie to make that ticket first class for you.”

“Don’t you dare, Mor.” But for the first time in months there had been laughter beneath her words. For once she didn’t find herself rolling her eyes when Mor reminded her that her older cousin was rich and single, last she heard of it. Not that Feyre’s memory needed jogging on that point. Ever since Rhys had stepped into her first art showing, oozing raw confidence and control, she’d been no better than a school girl doodling hearts and initials in her journal margins. But he’d then flown out to manage his father’s New York business, his return to California only in the past few months, when Feyre was long gone herself.

She shook off the flush running through her body, trying to focus on Mor jabbering in her ear about events around the city. Served her right, lusting after an alpha so far out of her league. Rhys might be nice enough to buy her paintings or bump her flight ticket to first class, but she certainly had no illusions that he would be the male helping her through her next heat. Hell, by now he likely had an omega of his own, hand-selected by his prick of a father. 

Not exactly fond of the flare of… something… that thought sent through her, Feyre stood, pacing the few feet she dared from her carry-on in the crowded terminal. “Hey, girl. We’ll be boarding any minute. Can I let you go for now?”

“Absolutely. Love you lots. I’ll see you tonight. Don’t eat anything huge. We’ve got dinner plans.”

~~~~~

Dinner plans amounted to a delivery of Feyre’s favorite chinese food not even five minutes after she was settled in from the car ride home. “You spoil me, Mor,” she said, setting down her chopsticks long enough to shrug into the oversized hoodie behind her that smelled absolutely delightful for some reason and debate the nearly identical bottles of red nail polish in front of her. Her friend certainly had a signature color.

“Someone has to,” Mor groused, starting an episode of a cop show they’d seen one too many times. “If you won’t spoil yourself, your bestie’s gonna do it for you.” She eyed Feyre’s newly acquired hoodie with a slight smirk. “Among a few others.”

“What? I was cold. And what do you mean, others?”

Mor just waved a hand in dismissal. “Rhys, Cass, and Az are around here all the time. Rhys lives a floor above me, for that matter. You know they’re all thrilled you’re back in town. Emerie is excited to meet you too. I think you guys will really hit it off.” Mor sighed, a wistful look in her eyes.

“You really like this one, don’t you?”

“She’s amazing. And she’s been so patient with me. You know how my family can be about my preferences. She hasn’t said much, but I think her family gives her a lot of the same shit about it. She gets it. Gets me.” Feyre’s heart just about melted at that and she reached across the couch to squeeze Mor’s hand. “I even asked—”

The front door opened then, to both their surprise, Cassian falling through the frame with a shit-eating grin on his face. “She’s back! Feyre Archeron, where have you been?! C’mere.” She squealed as he lifted her by the hips to spin her around

Mor shook her head, mumbling about how this was supposed to be girls’ night before everyone saw her at Rita’s the next evening. “Sorry, Mor,” another voice said from the door, warm, rich, and amused. “We saw you ladies pull in earlier from the window. I kept him there as long as I could. It’s good to see you, Feyre.” 

Grinning ear to ear, Feyre braced a hand on Cassian’s chest until the vertigo faded. “Yeah, good to see you guys. I—What?” she asked, finally looking at Rhys. 

He was just as she remembered. It had been fice years since he’d flown out to manage that east coast business after earning his business degree and he hadn’t changed one bit—still the most beautiful man she’d ever met. The only thing that truly caught her off guard was the odd glint in his eyes, focusing on the hoodie she was wearing—almost pleased, if she was reading him right. Another step into the room and his scent hit her, citrus and the sea, the same soothing fragrance that clung to the sweatshirt she’d thoughtlessly pulled on with the assumption it was one of Mor’s baggier favorites.

Fuck.

Rhys smirked then, every bit the smug alpha she knew he was. She wasn’t ready to analyze the response that inspired in her. The fluttering in her stomach that quickened as he approached, the heat that flushed her check when he stepped into her space, fingering the ratty sleeve that fell well past her fingertips. “I was wondering where that had wandered off to.”

“I—”

“Keep it, darling. It looks better on you anyway.”

She shuffled back a step, uncharacteristically flustered by his proximity. Omega or not, the flirtation of men didn’t usually affect her this way. Even in the early days between her and Tamlin she—She would not be comparing her ex to anyone. She came back to San Francisco to wash her hands of him, after all. 

“I—” She sighed. “Thanks.”

Mor cleared her throat, though her shameless grin was a near mirror to her cousin’s. “If that’s all, boys.” She batted her eyes, looping her arm back through Feyre’s. “This was girls’ night, remember?”

Cassian chuckled, ignoring the dismissal and slumping into the couch. “So, how goes the move in?”

Feyre scoffed. “My plane touched down only an hour ago. Can I finish my dinner and wine before tackling my bags?” The other three exchanged a look, Mor seeming suddenly guilty. “What?”

“With how quickly this all came together, I suppose I never got around to mentioning I… I asked Emerie to move in. It doesn’t change the fact the extra room is yours,” she hurried to say. “You have a place here of course.”

“Or you could have one upstairs,” Rhys mumbled.

Feyre blinked. “Excuse me?”

“They get their privacy, you get a good night's sleep every night.” She narrowed her eyes. “It’s just a room, Feyre. You know I’m a gentleman.”

“I wouldn’t suggest otherwise.” Eyeing his reaction, she sipped from her wine glass. “Out loud.” 

Cassian cackled. “God, I’ve missed you. About time you traded the hills for skyscrapers again, little sister.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

~~~~~

“I told you,” Rhys sang as Feyre stepped out of the elevator and into his apartment. It had only taken two nights to change her mind about his proposal. She adored Mor and Emerie was a delight—a perfect match for her oldest friend. But that didn’t change the fact the walls were paper thin.

“Hush. Emerie is a wonderful woman. I could never begrudge them their happiness, even if it costs me my sleep.”

“Of course not. Anyways, welcome to my humble abode. The first door on the left down the hall is your room for as long as you want it. Just across from mine, if you need anything. I’ll let you get unpacked.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, heading down the short hall and into the room he directed her to, only to stop short in the doorway. “Rhys.”

“Yes?” he called back, presumably from the living space. 

“What is all of this?” 

He approached slowly, looking almost sheepish. “Too much?” She gaped. “I can return it if you don’t like it. I just happened to overhear you tell Mor you had left behind some of your favorite nesting things and… Here, I’ll just pack it up and—”

“No.” His brows rose as she shifted to block the doorway. “I—” She cleared her throat softly. “It was sweet of you to consider it. I’m not far from my next heat, actually. I really appreciate you letting me crash here and letting me nest.” 

He scoffed. “Nesting is natural. It isn’t something I’d try to stop any omega from doing.”

“If only my ex had seen it that way.” She flinched. “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry.”

He growled softly, eyes dark as he dropped his head to hold her gaze, one hand braced against the doorjamb she already leaned against. His scent washed over her once again and Feyre hoped her full body shutter wasn’t as obvious as it felt. “Your ex was an alpha?” She nodded. “Not one with any honor, it seems. You are what you are, Feyre. If that bastard ever made you take shame in it, I hope you’ll soon change your way of thinking.”

“I’m not ashamed of anything,” she murmured. 

The knuckles of his free hand brushed along her cheekbone. “Good. I’ll let you finish up here. As I said, if you need anything for the nest or otherwise, I’m here to help.”

“I’m not a charity case, Rhysand. I always manage to get back on my feet quickly enough.”

“I know that, darling. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy spoiling sweet little things like you rotten.”

A quiet, shocked sound escaped her, but her usually sharp wit had been neutralized, it seemed. And all by a few charming words. Sweet little things like you.

“No,” she muttered to herself, refusing to watch him walk away. Approaching heat or not, she was not getting tangled up with an entitled alpha ever again. And that vow would not be changing

~~~~~

The next few weeks were normal, all things considered. Rhys went to work in the morning and Feyre either arranged calls or set out to reopen contact with previous buyers interested in her art. In the evenings they alternated cooking meals and washing dishes, occasionally enjoying a movie or game together before returning to their separate rooms for the night.

Everything was perfectly platonic if you excused a few mildly flirtatious remarks. The only thing that left her unsteady was the surprise treats and little actions to take care of her, each one either frivolous or thoughtful. It was as frustrating as it was pleasing and she hoped Rhys couldn’t see how she truly felt about each little favor. She didn’t know what she’d do if he came to learn about the pure satisfaction she felt each time she saw that he had snuck into her room to switch out the sweatshirt she’d so carefully placed among the pillows and blankets in her nest the moment his scent faded from the fabric.

She had dared to ask him after the third time he’d replaced the garment why he was so attentive to that specific want.

“You may not be my chosen mate, but you are an omega under my care. Just as you follow your instincts to keep something with an alpha’s scent, I will follow my instinct to provide for you as long as you live with me. A missing sweatshirt is hardly a great sacrifice, Feyre.”

He’d stood from the dinner table with a smile, mumbling something along the lines of, “Such a pretty little blush you have, darling,” before loading his plate in the dishwasher and heading for his room. Any other remarks had been few and far between, but each one stuck with her for days afterwards.

She gave a sharp huff as she stirred a spoonful of honey into her tea, prepared to do nothing more than hole up in her room with a good book and a hot drink as the Saturday storm bathed the city. “Read my book and not think about this a second longer.” 

If only she’d realized what a hopeless endeavor that would turn out to be.

She was only two chapters into her newest read when the first hot flash came. Her heat. And damn if she couldn’t already feel this was going to be a rough one without a partner. Jumping from her chair, she started to head for the bathroom, reaching for the tub’s faucet. Then, a cool bath wouldn’t do her any favors. As quickly as she felt her skin burn, she knew she’d be shivering in a matter of minutes, that first cycle of hot and cold lasting for a few hours before the endless heat became constant, especially without an alpha to soften the effects of her episode.

“Fuck.” She needed to get off the floor and back to her room. To her nest, whatever small comfort it could offer her. “Fuck,” she repeated.

“Eloquently put,” a too-familiar voice said. She didn’t bother peeling her eyes open, letting Rhys drop to a knee and slip his arms beneath her knees and behind her back. “Come on. To bed with you.”

“Put me down. I’m fine.” Never mind that her teeth were already chattering and a cramping had started low in her gut.

“I’m sure you are, darling.” Shifting his arm so her back remained supported, he pressed his palm to the back of her head, pressing lightly until she caved, letting him guide her nose to that special spot on his neck where his scent was strongest. The tension that had claimed her body vanished in an instant. “There, little one. Better, hm?”

She mumbled something equally proud and bitter that she could really only half understand herself with this fog stealing over her mind so quickly, then, “Hurts,” she whimpered.

He hummed, laying her down in the very center of the nest of bedding and clothes she’d so meticulously arranged and rearranged over the past few weeks. She should have realized she was days from her next cycle when the impulse to perfect the space became so prominent. Now she would be glued to it for days on end. The problem? “Why are you so far away?”

Rhys chuckled. “You said you wanted to work through your heat alone, little one. That you don’t need an alpha. Have you changed your mind?” Feyre bit her lip, contemplating her options. Endure this alone and maintain her pride, or welcome his help and pray she was only opening a physical connection, rather than an emotional one. “Feyre.” She blinked up at him. “Temper your pride. Invite me into your nest, little one. This doesn’t have to be so painful.” It only took a moment for her to grip his hand, tugging softly. “Such a good girl,” he murmured, settling in carefully, so as to not disturb her arrangement.

“Don’t need a knot,” Feyre told him petulantly. “Just…” Nose buried in his neck, hand tucked under his shirt, Feyre stopped protesting for the moment, the only sound leaving her a soft whimpering.  

That’s when he began to purr, summoning a gush of slick, to her humiliation. “Rhys—”

“Hush, sweet girl. Let’s see what we can do about your little problem here.” She couldn’t help but squirm a bit as he peeled her leggings away inch by inch, face flushing hot when her slick clung to the fabric of her panties on their way down. “Settle now, pet. You just lay back and let your alpha take care of you.”

“You’re not my—I didn’t ask you to—” Feyre hadn’t realized her pants had been completely cast aside until his tongue was stroking up her slit. “Oh, god.” Another drag of it and her fingers were threaded in his hair, tugging sharply. He hummed. “Rhys.” She tried to lift her hips, only for Rhys to reach up and lay his arm over her waist, keeping her mostly still. She let out a groan of frustration.

“All in good time, little one. All in good time.” He looked all too pleased by the frustrated growl that passed her lips, her protest cut off the moment two thick fingers pushed inside of her, curling in a way that had her hurtling to the edge of her release. “That’s it, darling, he encouraged her, repeating the motion while twisting his hand enough that he could rub her clit with his thumb. “Come for me.” Considering the state she was already in and how it only seemed to worsen with time, it took nothing more than those few words for her to shatter, clenching around his fingers so tight he cursed—even as he stroked her through it. “Good girl.” 

Feyre shuttered beneath him, She didn’t need to peel her heavy eyes open to know she would find him smirking down at her. There wasn’t a chance in hell a man as observant as Rhys would misread what his praise did to her. She felt the tip of his nose skate across her cheek before his soft mouth was pressed to the flesh of her throat, his fingers already beginning to curl inside of her once again. “Rhys, wait.”

“Darling, do you really think that little knotting toy you bought the other day is going to be enough to satisfy you in this? You know what you need and you know who can give it to you.”

That unbearable cramping began anew, and Feyre knew she had no hope of resisting.

~~~~~

Most days, Rhys would consider himself an honorable man. He was capable of detaching emotions from matters of business and handling what needed to be handled without causing a fuss. Taking losses he earned himself with grace. Regarding his personal life, he never stooped to pursue someone who’s capability of consent was so precarious. He’d certainly never attempted to coerce a hesitant partner. 

But he’d walked into the house and her heat scent had hit him in full force. Finding her slumped on the bathroom floor and burning up had his protective instincts rearing their head. Now he was in her nest, had his fingers buried inside of her, the taste of her lingering on his tongue, addling his own mind.

He could reconsider the standing of his honor tomorrow. 

He’d get rid of that last edge of nerves his little omega was facing, then he’d show her where she belonged. Right here in this apartment, in this nest, for him to come home every day and spoil senseless. He had already come to enjoy their evening bonding immensely, and could only imagine he’d be even more delighted to share those talks when Feyre had her studio up and running, resuming the work she cherished so dearly. And whatever her reservations about alphas may be at the moment, she’d come around to the thought as well, he was certain. Every omega needs an alpha to lean on. 

“God,” she hissed, palm pressing low on her stomach. Eyes shut tight once again, Feyre let her nails bite into his wrist, spurring him into action. He stripped the shirt she wore, baring her entirely before bringing that hand back to her center, this time with the intention of preparing her to take his knot. At the rate her heat was progressing, her pride would fall away momentarily and she’d be begging for the relief she knew it would provide her, he was certain. 

Her next groan morphed to something softer, her head falling back to the pillows when his mouth closed over her nipple. Once again, her fingers found a home in his hair, tugging just harshly enough he felt justified in nipping her breast. “Be nice, darling.” 

Scowling, Feyre surged upwards, gripping his shirt front as her lips finally found his. “You know it’s really, really unfair that I’m the only one undressed here.” She didn’t give him the courtesy of unbuttoning the garment himself, yanking hard enough to send the buttons flying, lost to the fabrics of the nest. Her teeth sank into his bottom lip hard enough he groaned, his free hand sliding up around her throat. “Rhys.” 

He couldn’t help but smile as her eyes fluttered shut, her body relaxed enough for him to manipulate, guiding her back down into the pillow and removing his hand from its home between her thighs. “Sweet thing,” he cooed when a little pout began to form. “So needy for your alpha.” Moving his hand from her throat to her waist, he pushed those two slick fingers past her swollen lips, swallowing the growl building in his throat at the stroke of her tongue, letting himself watch as she fell deeper into that haze of lust and need.

“Well done, sweet girl,” he praised, withdrawing his fingers. 

“Alpha,” she whispered, one hand sliding down until it rested over the hard line showing through his jeans.

“You need your alpha’s cock, pet?” He began working his thumb over her clit, just letting his fingers graze the rest of her. “You think you’re ready for that? Think you can take my knot, Feyre?”

“Please.” The next down stroke was rougher and he knew she was close to coming again when her body bowed towards him. “Please give it to me. Need your knot.”

There it was. And how sweet it sounded.

Kissing her neck, he let himself enjoy that lilac and pear scent for a moment before peeling out of the last of his clothes. Feyre had a hand around him before he could reach down to stroke himself, painfully hard beneath her touch. The moment she grazed his knot he jolted, one hand closing over hers while the other fisted one of the pillows beneath them. “Fuck, Feyre.”

“I want to taste you.” He clenched his jaw tight. This woman would be the death of him. 

“Soon, darling. But first I need to be inside of you.” She lifted her hips, bending them at the knees in invitation. “Soaked for me,” he purred, lining up to claim her. “You’re going to take me so well, Feyre. Every inch.”

She swallowed, but nodded. Pinning her hips to keep her from rushing to take him, he pushed the tip in, grunting softly as she clenched around him. At this rate he wasn’t going to last long. “More,” Feyre begged, heels digging into his back. “Need more.”

“Patience is a virtue, pet.” Still, he fed her another inch, rocking in and out, working into her until only his knot remained. Smirking at the blissed out look covering her face, Rhys leaned down to whisper in her ear. “So fucking beautiful, filled up like this. Open those eyes for me, Feyre.” She trembled, eyes remaining closed. A sharp flick to her clit and she cried out, eyes flying open and snapping to his. “Watch, Feyre. Watch me give you my knot.” Her eyes darted down. Her nails bit into his back the moment he bottomed out. “Hot little cunt, taking me so well.” 

Rhys didn’t let her catch her breath before he started rolling his hips again, dragging in and out of her, animalistic pride beginning to build when he felt her thighs trembling around him and the hot little puffs of air against the shell of his ear, when each thrust was made easier by another gush of slick soaking his length. “So close,” she whined, writhing beneath him, his name falling from her lips in a constant chant. 

His rhythm faltered, feeling his release within reach as well. “Come for me, Feyre.” She keened, needing that push over the edge. Flicking her clit, he slammed home, spilling into her the moment her teeth latched down on his shoulder, nails cutting into his back. A moment later she shuttered beneath him, her grip going lax. He couldn’t help but push her damp hair back from her sweaty face, kissing her brow. Not wanting to crush her, he turned on his back, repositioning her legs on either side of him.

“That was…” She sighed, eyes drooping. “Thank you.”

“Rest, Feyre. Before the next wave hits. I’ve got you."

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

[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.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Series taglist: @icey--stars

[redheadspark]

Hi!! May I request Rhys from ACOTAR with prompts #13 and #14 please?

A/N- This is great for Rhysand! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Truth

Summary - When rumors and doubt creep in, High Lord Rhysand snuffs it out

Warnings - Angst and Fluff rolled together

“Who said these nasty lies?”

“Who do you think, Rhys?”

You were curled up in your bed, tears stinging your eyes as our husband and mate, High Lord Rhysand, was pacing back and forth in a lot of rage and anger.  Mor was sitting next to you on the bed, running her fingers in your hair as Cassian was standing near the entryway of the bedroom, his won anger was festering under his skin, as it should, since his own sister was the center of gossip from a certain High Lord over in Spring Court.

Cassian got wind of it first since he was visiting Spring Court with Azriel as representative of Night Court, much to the dismay since Tamlin was never a favorite when it came to the High Lords.  But Rhysand was tied up with his own work back in Velaris, so he sent you to go with Cassian and Azriel instead.  You’ve done your own delegation work and negotiations with other High Lords, you in fact built up a great reputation as a leader and High Lady.  Most of the other High Lords had respect for you, admired you even, all but one.

It wasn’t spoken when you were in the room with him, but High Lord Tamlin was mostly tolerable with you as you two were going over the treaty that was brought up some time ago between your neighboring Courts.  You, being optimistic, thought it was going well as you excused yourself from the room.  Azriel and Cassian were outside the door since Tamlin was alone, which had been a big mistake since both the Illryians heard the nasty rumors about the High Lady of Night Court and how she slept with Rhysand to be the High Lady.  They heard it from Tamlin himself

Tamlin made a huge mistake, not merely because he spoke against their High Lady, but he spoke against Cassian’s twin sister.

They both wished to retaliate immediately, but they knew better since it would be an all-out war.  They both winnowed your home, you were confused as to what was going on and why you were leaving abruptly.  It was only when you were finally home at the House of Wind that they filled you in with what Tamlin said.  You took it hard, filled to the brim with sadness and uneasiness as you looked at yourself. There was no reason you should let those words get to you since you were beyond happy with Rhsyand and with your life in Night Court.  

Tamlin had no idea that you and Rhysand grew up together as childhood friends, that you fell in love with each other over time lowly but with deep affection. He had no idea that you were trained just like the other Illryians as a soldier and not as a dainty flower that Tamlin thought you here, fending for yourself over a dozen times against alpha-type Illyrian soldiers at the camp.  There was more to you than a pretty face, more grit and strength.  

Yet you still let those nasty words get the best of you in that moment.

“How are we going to deal with him?” Cassian asked in a growl as Rhysand still paced, thinking to himself.  You could see from your spot on the bed, how his brows were hunched and a fist made at his side.  Rhysand was never one to be challenged or crossed when it came to his wife, let alone his Inner Circle.  You were his center, his entire world, and he had no shame in reminding the doubters and nay-sayers of your title and his love for you. 

“Maybe now’s not the time to talk about it,” Mor calmly advised, Cassian and Rhysand looking over at you as you were still crying on the bed and curled up against Mor’s lap.  Cassian was about to say something else when Rhysand over to you, his anger was no longer evident on his face as he knelt in front of you on the bed to pull you in his arms.  You hugged him tightly, almost wanting to hide from the rest of the world as Mor and Cassian slipped out of the room silently to give the two of your some space.

“Maybe it wasn’t right for me to go there,” You mumbled in his hold as you were finding your voice again, “I wasn’t ready to deal with Tamlin, or any other High Lord for that matter,” 

“You’re more than capable,” Rhysand reminded you as he sat with you on the bed, pulling you into his lap and keeping you tightly in his arms, “You are a great leader and a wonderful High Lady.  The others respected you and all that you contributed to Night Court.”

“You’re just saying that,” You hummed in a low tone.  Rhysand tutted and lifted your chin with a singular finger.  You saw his violet orbs pouring into yours, how intense they were, yet filled with love he had only for you after centuries of being together. 

“I say that because it’s the truth,” he stated, “You are without a doubt a powerful leader and High Lady, and this Court has been thriving because of you.  No matter what anyone else says, you are important to me.”

You felt that love in his words, in your mating bond that was now humming and throbbing in your gut.  Rhysand saw you as an equal, never was someone less than him.  When it came to being a leader or simply his mate, Rhysand loved reminding you of your worth with him.  

“It brings me pain to hear you talk or even think less of yourself,” He reminded you, you smiling softly as he smiled, seeing a sense of relief on your face, “I would think after centuries of being together that you wouldn’t doubt the love I have for you,”

“I don’t!” You started to argue, though he chuckled and shook his head to show that it was merely a joke.  He kissed the tip of your nose as you grinned, “I do love you. Rhysand.  More than anything,”

“That I do not doubt,” he stated in his lighthearted manner, “But just remember in those darker times that you feel not good enough, those are lies.  Don't talk about yourself like that, nor think of yourself like that, ever.  Promise me,”

You felt those powerful words down to your veins, wrapping around your bones and sinking into your heart.  Rhysand would build you up every time, just like you would build him up when he doubted his place as the High Lord.  You both knew how to go against the doubt, to build yourselves up, and to survive the world together.  Although this moment seemed like a slip-up of your own doubt, Rhysand could always remind you of your worth.  Even If he wasn’t the High Lord, you would still love him with all your soul.

Rhysand had choice words for Tamlin the next morning, and there was never another gossip or ill rumor from Spring Court ever again. 

The End

[therealmissmagoo2]

The Sims 4 - Emerie (9.22.24 Edit)

from the A Court of Thorns and Roses series by Sarah J Maas **Spoilers** Titles: Valkyrie & Carynthian Age: Unknown Species: Illyrian Powers/Abilities: Combat

Tray Files - SFS

CC List - Patreon

Emerie & Nesta Sparring 💥

Emerie & Mor (Non-Canon Ship) 🤎

[wingsdippedingold]

https://youtube.com/shorts/ChdTYlpkUy8?si=LvH6f9tAfLGI8rZz

I don't understand how this is funny???

Because it’s not 😭😭😭

I do find it funny how the fandom alpha bros Cassian so much though 💀

He’s 100% a millennial man with a greasy man bun whose closet consists of long t shirts with super deep v necks and floral button up t-shirts that are each a little too small so he can show off his biceps.

I do think Rhysand would be the one to start a podcast though. Cassian would literally just repeat everything he said, and Azriel would sit there and nod.

They bring on Emerie and she discusses Illyrian women, but Rhysand just shushes her and talks louder. When Nesta goes on he flat out kicks her out 10 minutes in after calling her “too emotional and crazy” and thumbnails the video “Crazy feminist storms off podcast when faced with facts”

Whenever they talk about how women should act as partners, they bring their mothers

Amren and Mor would go on and be his "the good ones" girls. Feyre hated podcasts and broke up with her ex because his toxic masculinity was too much for her, but then she started dating Rhysand and now she agrees with everything. Elain would stay far away and somehow Tamlin’s name is dropped every episode.

They’re also on Instagram reels

[merymoonbeam]

Truth

just a compilation of quotes and some information. (Hofas spoilers but I cant add read more so just ignore the post if you want idk)

Mor quote from Acomaf:

She lifted the orb from its velvet nest. It was no larger than a ripe apple, and fit within her cupped palms as if her entire body, her entire being, had been molded for it. “Truth is deadly. Truth is freedom. Truth can break and mend and bind. The Veritas holds in it the truth of the world. I am the Morrigan,” she said, her eyes not wholly of this earth. The hair on my arms rose. “You know I speak truth.”

Acomaf Book Of Breathings

Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade—that is the cycle. Like calls to like.

Acomaf Book Of Breathings Prophecy

Life and death and rebirth

Sun and moon and dark

Rot and bloom and bones

Hello, sweet thing. Hello, lady of night, princess of decay. Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn. Love me, touch me, sing me.

Acowar Elriel TT scene:

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her.Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.(acowar)

Crescent City2 TT and Gwydion:

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched. Flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger—.The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.(hosab)

Alpha and Omega meaning:

Alpha (Α) and omega (Ω) are the first and last letters, respectively, of the classical (Ionic) Greek alphabet. Thus, the phrase “I am the alpha and the omega” is further clarified with the additional phrase, “the beginning and the end” in Revelation 21:6, 22:13. The first and last letters of the Greek alphabet were used because the book of Revelation is in the New Testament, which was originally written in Greek.This phrase is interpreted by many Christians to mean that Jesus has existed for all eternity or that God is eternal. 

In Hebrew, the word emet (אמת, meaning “truth”), is referred to as the “Seal of God.”[8][9][10] [Cf. Isaiah 44:6[11]] The word is composed of the first, middle, and last letters of the Hebrew alphabet. The midrash explains that emet is made up of the first, middle, and last letters of the Hebrew alphabet (aleph, mem, and tav: אמת). Sheqer (שקר, falsehood), on the other hand, is made up of the 19th, 20th, and 21st (and penultimate) letters. Thus, truth is all-encompassing, while falsehood is narrow and deceiving.

Hofas Gwydion and Truth-Teller information

“The Starsword is Made, as you called it.” He waved an idle hand, sparks at his fingertips. “The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”

Hofas Gwydion and TT singing

Because the sword and dagger weren’t merely tugging now. They were singing, and all she had to do was reach out for them—

[tepli-mravenci]

Seznam rodově neutrálních jmen je požehnání a sice jsem v něm stále nenašel jméno se kterým bych vajbil, ale podělím se o výběr svých oblíbených silly jmen

• Dvoupísmenová jména:

Bé, Ha, Hi, Ib, Jo, Le, Ok, Oy, Oz, To, Yn

• Jména z několika stejných slabik:

Baba, Dodo, Kaka, Kakaka, Keke, Lolo, Tata

• Jména která jsou česká slova:

Basta, Kanon, Mini, Mor, Sláva, Socha

• Jména která jsou anglická slova:

Bendy, Cola, Comfort, Darling, Ender, Floor, Gay, Gum, Happy, Hard, Hero, Hope, Honor, Joke, Kiss, Win

• Čestné zmínky:

Alfa, Alpha, Omeg, Bla, Dik, Eep, Erčis, Focko, Islam, Krishna, Pat, Mat, Oopke, Pedrus, Puupi, Sorúš, Sparf, Sunka, Susus, Šádí, Thor, Ufuk, Ysk, Yuri

Dále stojí za zmínku že je zahrnuta spousta cizích jmen, u některých si netroufám hádat původ, ale jestli chcete být noční můra co se diktování jména týče, několik z velké škály možností je Aappalittuatsiaq, Angutivdluarssuk, Fürchtegott, Nukartaavarannguaq, Qillalaannguaq, Üçkök, Uitsalikitseq

Děkuji za pozornost

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

If you could gather all the greatest (all time favorites) fics where stiles travels to alternative universes, I would love you forever

Here you go!

once and again by bleep0bleep

(1/1 I 1,101 I General)

The problem with the multiverse, is that there are infinite possibilities. Stiles is tired. He’s been at this for a long, long time. It took years to master the power to traverse universes, and Stiles is putting a lot of faith in that he’ll find Derek again– a year of his life per shot, as is.

The (less) Broken Road by theroguesgambit

(1/1 I 4,012 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles and Derek find themselves in an alternate reality where Derek's still an Alpha, many of their lost friends are alive and well, and their alternate selves are apparently in a serious, long-term relationship.

With each other.

...Weird, right?

SuperWolf by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 4,816 I General I Sterek)

“Who are you? What are you doing? How are you doing? What is going on? Put me down!”

The man holding him let out a small chuckle, but didn’t release him until they were back on the cliff.

Where the Kappas were.

And he did, in fact, try and put Stiles down.

Stiles clung to the man tightly, arms around his neck and legs twisted so he could keep himself raised off the ground.

“Ah, not now, not now! Put me down where there aren’t any Kappas!”

Double Trouble by scatterglory

(11/11 I 8,191 I Mature I Sterek)

The Dereks face off across the small clearing he’d been running through, and Stiles realizes with a sick, sinking sensation that he’s not actually seeing double.

This or That, But Not Both by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 8,829 I Teen I Sterek)

“You can’t have everything.” The man held up both hands. “Your family,” he said, lifting his right hand and lowering his left, “or your boyfriend,” he switched them around, lifting his left and lowering his right. “Balance. You can have this,” he motioned around the room, “or that.” He pointed to his left and space seemed to break apart, a portal opening and showing Stiles, sitting at his desk with one hand pulling at his hair, the other flipping pages in a book.

“This, or that, but not both,” the Jumper said.

Five Days and a New Moon by LadyDrace 

(1/1 I 13,614 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles gets a visit from himself from a parallel universe. In which he was born a girl. And had a kid. Which he's now stuck taking care of for a few days.

Great.

Oddly, though, Derek seems totally happy babysitting.

Or:

A story where things are both mor

Worlds Apart by exclamation

(14/14 I 32,131 I Explicit I Sterek)

Nothing exciting ever happens in Beacon Hills... until Stiles appears to get a stalker. A strange guy is breaking into his house, watching him at lacrosse practice and grabbing him outside of the school. This guy claims that he's a werewolf who knows Stiles in another world... and he needs Stiles' help to figure out what happened to him.

Agreeing to help a werewolf research parallel worlds is one thing... hiding it from his dad is another.

In Any Version of Reality by alisvolatpropiis

(7/7 I 39,853 I Explicit I Sterek)

Standing next to not-Derek – whoa, holding not-Derek’s hand? – is someone who looks remarkably like Stiles. Is Stiles, a slightly-altered replica, just like this guy both is and isn't Derek.

It’s not like looking into a mirror – one, because looking into a mirror actually makes some kind of sense, and two, because not-Stiles looks older too, mid twenties maybe. And the tips of his short, spiky hair are dark purple, and he’s got a lip ring and he’s shirtless and covered in tattoos and what the holy hell?

“Time travel?" He's sufficiently freaked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hears his dad laughing.

“Not exactly,” not-Derek says, and shit, even his voice sounds exactly the same, disconcertingly gentle. He gestures behind him, and Stiles looks over his shoulder, where behind him, scattered across the porch and in the front yard, are more…Dereks and more Stileses.

Fourteen total, including the two at the door, he notes distantly, eyes feeling like they’re about to pop out of his head from bulging so hard.

Seven other Dereks. Seven other Stileses.

Seven Derek and Stiles pairs.

If the ley lines you should follow by forestofbabel

(10/10 I 52,111 I Teen I Sterek)

And Derek just stood there, staring at Stiles like he was a ghost.

“Dude, I know it’s been a while but you don’t have to look at me like you’re that surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically a tradition at this point.”

“Stiles?” Derek whispered, the name falling from his lips like a punch to the gut. Stiles watched, confused, as Derek took a deep breath in and took a shaky step forward then back again. “You’re not- you can’t be. Who are you?”

AND

@nolanfa suggested these great ones!

Echoes by entanglednow

(1/1 I 2,062 I General I Sterek)

Someone has deleted half the numbers in Stiles's phone.

Play It Again by metisket

(3/3 I 63,206 I Teen I Sterek)

In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself.

“Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”

[fantisyoflove]

Raising Them Right

Part 3

James finished out his season on a high. They had won the Quidditch World Cup! His team combined their victory party with his stag do and invited his friends Remus and Peter as well! They had taken an international portkey all the way to Canada for him. 

They celebrated well into the night and James was dizzy with joy at the thought of finally meeting his Omega for real. He knew he had to hold back a little because this was all so new to both of them. He was determined to be the best Alpha he could be.

[]

Saturday came and James was up before his parents. He had his own home not too far away but since the wedding was going to be at his parents manor he spent the night in his old room. He wasn't allowed to leave his room but Ren had already brought him some food and tea. Ren loved coming back to his parents house and getting to visit with their own house elf, Tufty. James paced for the first hour, barely drinking his tea. Then he noticed figures moving around outside his window. James’s bedroom faced out to the back yard. Several wizards were working together to put everything together. James saw where he was going to stand and the long white cloth Regulus would walk down.

He was nearly vibrating with excitement. 

Finally his parents came into his room, they wished him luck and said they would see him during the ceremony. A final kiss and hug goodbye before his father handed him a gift before leaving. They didn't even watch him open it. 

Remus, Peter, and a Beta woman came in next. The Beta was apparently his stylist and was there to make sure he looked his best. James sat at the vanity and let her do whatever she thought was necessary, which happened to be a lot and made James feel a little self conscious. Peter and Remus sat on his bed as they talked excitedly. They both were already dressed in their finest robes. 

Peter shifted and the gift from James’s father slid closer to him. “Oi! What's this?” He asked.

James poked his head out from behind the privacy screen, “Oh a gift from my dad. I havent opened it yet.” 

“Well lets see then!” Peter said as he tossed him the package. James caught it easily and brought it with him back behind the screen. 

Carefully pulling the ribbon and wrapping away James saw that it was a cloak. A rather ancient cloak, made of a fine watery material, silky and silver. 

He thanked the Beta woman before stepping out to show his friends all her hard work. They cheered and wolf whistled which made her blush as she left. 

“What is that?” Remus asked, eyeing the cloak suspiciously.

“I think it's a cloak… Im not sure if I am meant to wear it or…” He trailed off as he slipped the fabric over his shoulders. The effect was immediate and he could no longer see his body.

“JAMES!” Peter screamed. 

Remus’s eyes were wide, “Mate.”

“I'm invisible.” James breathed. A card fluttered to the ground and James scooped it up. 

‘Novissima autem inimica destruetur mors’

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” He read out loud.

“Your father had an invisibility cloak this whole time! And he never told you?” Peter gasped. 

James suddenly had a very stupid but brilliant idea.

[]

It wasn't hard to find his Omegas scent. He followed it to the west wing and waited for someone to open the door before slipping inside. The room was in chaos, like an active hurricane of Omegas and Betas running around. Clothes everywhere, bags tossed haphazardly onto any surface. In the center of it all sat his Omega. They were quiet, merely watching with distant eyes as everything happened around them. 

He carefully moved across the room and stood just behind the vanity. His Omega was already dressed and he noticed a soft amount of makeup applied to his face just like James’s. 

James didn't even know if he would get a chance to be alone with Regulus. His parents explained the traditional aspects that the Blacks wanted in the wedding. One of which was not seeing each other until the actual ceremony. James couldn't help himself. Plus if he could get the Omega alone he wanted to be sure that they were alright. He wanted to make sure that they knew what was going to happen… at the end.

With only a handful of minutes before the wedding was to begin James was starting to plan his exit strategy when a very tall, very stern, woman entered the room. She stood for a moment and everyone paused what they were doing. One lift of her chin and everyone filed out.

The woman stalked over to Regulus, grabbing his shoulder with a claw-like hand and bent low to his ear. If James had not been standing right there he would have missed what she hissed in Regulus’s ear. “I will give you a moment but you will NOT mess this up.” 

Regulus nodded once, staring straight ahead into the mirror. She snatched her hand away and left.

James moved out from behind the mirror and stood just off to the side. His Omega took a shaky breath and tilted their head up before pushing their pointer fingers just under their eyes for a moment.

James felt his heart clench, he wanted to comfort his Omega. Carefully he slid the fabric away, “Don't scream.” He whispered and knelt down on the floor beside Regulus’s chair.

[]

To say Regulus was startled was an understatement. He knew he wasn't so self absorbed in this moment to not notice the very large Alpha that was now standing beside him.

Tall, dark, and broad. He was a near identical copy of his father in looks. A soft gasp escaped his lips.

The Alpha dropped to his knees and put a warm hand on his wrist, “Don't scream.” He said. His voice was rough and deep. Regulus felt a tremor go through his whole body. The scent hit him then, cinnamon oranges. ‘On Christmas’ his brain purred. 

“Hi.” The Alpha smiled at him and Regulus felt like his whole world suddenly had color. Like he had lived in the dark for so long and now the sun was finally shining on him. 

He is so glad the Alpha wasn't towering over him. “Hi.” He squeeked. 

“I’m James. I know we aren't supposed to” He gave Regulus a small sheepish smile and gestured between them. “But I couldn't wait.” He smiled again, somehow brighter than before. 

Regulus could only nod, he found his eyes glued to James’s. Staring into the warm honey like brown. He should look away, he should look down, he was being so disrespectful right now. It took all his strength but he finally dropped his gaze. He watched as a large hand moved up towards his jaw. He clenched his teeth and braced. 

James felt his heart sink when Regulus looked away, he reached forward and tilted his face back up. “You are so beautiful.” 

If Regulus was flustered before this was enough to take the air from his lungs entirely. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but there was a shout from the hallway and people were coming.

James’s head whipped to the side and he quickly stood and pulled the cloak over his shoulders. Turning back to his Omega he bent down to face them again.

“I have to bite you, after we kiss. I need to know, do you want me to spend your heat with you? Or do you want to wait?”

Regulus was unable to respond, he looked fearfully at the door again. He stood so quickly the bench he was sitting on would have toppled over if the Alpha had not caught it. 

James took his hand and kissed his knuckles, “Think about it and give me your answer at the altar!” And then he was gone. Vanished before Regulus’s very eyes. 

[]

The Alphas words rang in his head on repeat.

Do you want me to spend your heat with you?

I need to know.

I need to know, do you want me…

Do you want me….

Do you…

The piano playing softly in the background suddenly picked up. He felt a pinch in his side as his parents hooked elbows with him. He fixed his face with a soft smile and walked down the aisle.

The Alpha at the end was practically vibrating with excitement. 

Regulus swallowed back the bile rising up in his throat. He should be happy. This was a happy day. His eyes met Fleamont’s in the front row, he gave Regulus such a warm smile and his eyes were misty. 

Regulus still couldn't get the horrible feeling of dread to leave his body. Something terrible was going to happen, he could feel it. He hated the waiting, he was sitting on the edge waiting to be pulled back or pushed off. 

The Alpha took his hands and gave them a soft squeeze. His parents went to sit across the aisle from the Potter’s and a tiny Beta man started speaking. 

Regulus couldn't tell you what happened after that. He was lost in looking at the Alpha before him. All that time spent outside had given him a healthy glow. His hair stood up in several directions and Regulus thinks it looked more put together when the Alpha came to visit him. Now it looked like he had run his fingers through it several times. Even untidy he still looked so handsome. His eyes were warm and he already had deep laughing lines in the corners and along his mouth. Regulus could tell he was someone who laughed easily and often. 

Regulus was very grateful that he wasn't expected to write his own vows for this ceremony. He doubted he would remember even how to speak let alone a whole speech. His focus was glued to the Alpha. 

Regulus made up his mind then, he would try.

He would try and make this new life happy and work for him. If his Alpha was willing to face his mothers wrath and see him just to ask him if he was comfortable sharing his heat together then he must be a good guy.

His attention was called back when the Alpha pressed something cold into his hand. He looked down, it was a small dagger. His hand shook slightly as he just stared at it. The Alpha ducked down to meet his eyes. Guiding him to look up with just his eyes. Regulus didn't look away as James took his hand and guided him through the process of cutting his palm. He then took the knife, “Deep breath.” He whispered before slicing into Regulus’s palm. The pain brought him back to reality. The blood rushing in his ears stopped and the sound of someone talking finally reached his ears.

James pressed their bloody hands together as a white cloth was wrapped around binding them together. 

“You may now kiss.” 

James looked from his eyes to his lips and back again. He must have seen something in Regulus’s expression because he hesitated for just a moment. Regulus took a step closer and the pure joy on the Alphas face warmed him to his core. 

Regulus’s first kiss was with James Potter. 

It was chaste and short but then James was nosing along his neck. His tongue darted out licking over Regulus’s mating gland. Regulus felt weak in his knees but the Alpha was holding him so close he wouldn't fall. He licked him again and Regulus realized he was waiting for an answer. 

“Yes.” Regulus whispered against his ear. 

Regulus always thought the bite would hurt but in fact it sent so much oxytocin to his brain it was floating. The sharp bite of teeth didn't even register to Regulus.

He was aware of the Alpha picking him up. He was aware of the feeling of blood dripping down his neck. He was aware of the burning heat coursing through him. And he was aware of them disapparating shortly after.

[] 

This new place smelled heavily of the Alpha and Regulus knew he must be in their house now. Somewhere, out of the hazy heat clouding his brain, he wonders how far away they live from their parents. A sharp cramp hits him and he curls in on the Alpha.

“Almost there, sorry, hold on darling. I've got you.” James is rambling quickly as he carries his Omega to the bed. Laying him down he tries to move back but his Omega is gripping tightly to his shirt.

Regulus makes a pathetic whine in the back of his throat. 

James rubs soothing circles into his shoulders. “Hey love, I have to step away and take our clothes off okay?” Regulus takes a moment to register what James is saying and suddenly snatches his hands away.

James lets out a soft chuckle, “It's okay. I know.” He shucks his jacket off and throws it on a chair in the corner before moving to unbutton his shirt.

Regulus is panting at this point, his heat almost fully taking over his body and soon his mind. A whine escapes him again and he clamps his mouth shut. James turns to him, half his buttons undone, and touches his cheek. “It's okay love. What do you need? Anything. This is about you.”

Regulus flinches back like he has been struck. He doesn't know yet if this Alpha is just all talk. He hasn't figured out what will go wrong yet and he isn't sure of what he wants right now.

Lifting his chin, Regulus decides to test the waters, “Whatever you want, Alpha.” 

James tilts his head in confusion, his scent shifts for a moment before he shakes his head and kneels down beside the bed. Elbows propped on the mattress he reaches out slowly, looking between Regulus’s face and his feet that are within reach.

Carefully he takes Regulus’s foot in his hands. A rough callused palm slides over his ankle and Regulus stiffens. The Alphas fingers hook on the back of his shoe and slide it off. His eyes never leave Regulus as he sets the shoe down beside him. Then the next one, then his socks come off next. 

James presses a skilled thumb into the arch of Regulus’s foot. Regulus is still sitting stock still, his spine rigid, hands in fists beside him. Regulus is the first to look away as he watches James’s hands work over the sore pads of his feet. 

He takes his time and can't help the little tick in the corner of his mouth as Regulus slowly, so slowly, starts to relax. He doesn't speak until he is working on the second foot.

“Have you spent your heats with anyone before?” James asks. He keeps his tone casual, it doesn't matter to him what the answer is but it will help to know if his Omega even knows what to expect. He has a sneaky suspicion that Regulus is a virgin. 

Regulus’s face hardens, he shouldn't be difficult he should just answer the Alpha. But he has to know, if he can push enough to find where his boundaries are then at least he knows where he stands with the Alpha. At least then he will know how little freedom he has. “And what if I have?” He puts as much of a sneer in his words as he can. His stupid brain is turning to mush and soon he will be a whimpering mess on the bed like always. Buried beneath the covers clutching his middle as wave after wave of pain washes over him.

James smirks, “Then you would know what you want, little Omega.” 

Regulus snaps his eyes back to the Alphas face. James isn't looking at him anymore, he is focused on his work. He starts moving up from Regulus’s foot to his calf, pushing the fabric of his trousers out of the way. 

“It’s alright if you have, I was just curious. What do you usually like during your heats?” James has moved over to his other leg now and the way his hands work over Regulus’s sore muscles is messing with his mind. 

“I.. I..” Regulus stutters but then has to clamp his mouth shut to stop a moan from slipping from his lips. 

James is patient and moves back and forth between Regulus’s lower legs and feet. If he waited long enough maybe the heat would make him more talkative.

Regulus relaxes even more into the Alpha's touch. He lets his eyes drift closed and tries to think through the haze in his mind. “I don't … I’ve never.. I can't.” He whines, his head rolling back. Fuck. The Alpha's touch is so warm, each squeeze to his muscles makes him want to melt into the mattress.

The Alpha lets out a please rumble in his chest. “I hope you don't mind that I have.” 

Regulus rocks his head back forward and raises an eyebrow. 

“Spent a heat with someone.” James clarifies, he meets Regulus’s eyes and doesn't look away as he tells him. Regulus isn't prepared for the punch to the gut feeling the Alphas words have on him.  He can't shove down the snarl that rips from his chest and suddenly he is on his feet.

James falls back on his butt and looks up at the agitated Omega. Regulus’s eyes widen, he quickly drops to his knees and shuffles closer to the Alpha. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn't mean to. It will never happen again. I swear. I swear. I swear.” He is choking on his words. Tears are prickling from his eyes and he tries to shove them back with one hand as he reaches out to touch the Alpha with his other. 

James is more confused than anything else right now. The sudden changes to his Omegas emotions and scent have his head spinning. What happened? How has he messed this up already?

James rolls back onto his knees and kneels down closer to his Omega. Regulus flinches back and raises one hand over his face. Something deep inside of James cracks, what happened to his darling Omega. 

“Can I help you up?” He asks, frozen in place, half kneeling down closer to his Omega. 

Regulus’s chest is rising and falling rapidly. The scent of stressed Alpha hits his nose and he nods frantically hoping it will make the Alpha happy. 

James scoops him up into his arms and holds him close to his chest. Regulus’s face is pressed into James’s neck. He opens his mouth to take in more of the Alphas scent. The burst of energy took so much out of him and now he slumps in James’s arms. 

James lays him on the bed but when he goes to pull away Regulus grips tighter to his shirt and pulls him down next to him.

They lay like that tangled in each other's arms, Regulus has his nose firmly pressed against James’s neck, breathing deeply.

“Well someone should know what they're doing.” Regulus finally murmurs. James pulls back to look at him and a smile crackles across his face. He laughs with his whole body shaking Regulus with him.

James brushes the tears from his eyes and settles back with Regulus. “You are going to keep me on my toes aren't you.” He huffs another laugh and runs his fingers through Regulus’s curls. 

Regulus purrs at the touch. He stills, waiting for the Alphas reaction.

“Oh you like that?” James says kissing his forehead before scratching at Regulus’s scalp just right. Regulus let his eyes close as another wave of his heat hit him and he curled closer to James. 

[]

Regulus woke some time later, his body was on fire.

He let out a pathetic whimper as he started pushing his clothes off. He needed to get everything off and wrap up in his blanket on his bed before it got so painful he couldn't move.

He had just thrown his shirt and went to climb off the bed to get rid of his trousers when a hand circled around his wrist. His brain caught up quickly though and he remembered the Alpha in the bed with him.

“Regulus?” James muttered sleepily. “Is it starting?” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and reached for his glasses on the bedside table. Regulus could only let out whine as he stood and took everything else off. 

James’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair as his eyes raked disrespectfully over the nude Omega. He gulped in some air and then immediately wished he hadn’t. His Omega smelled amazing, his mouth watered, and there was only one thing on his mind. Mate.

He quickly finished unbuttoning his shirt and shedding it off onto the floor. He started pulling his trousers off but his Omega tackles him down onto the bed with an ‘ Oof ’.

“Alpha. Alpha. Alpha .” Regulus moans as he mouths against Jame’s neck. James’s hands are shaking but he places them firmly on his Omegas hips pulling him in closer. 

James licks over the mating mark making Regulus tremble in his hands. Regulus moans as more slick gushes from him and he grinds his hard length against James’s thigh. 

“Off. Off!” Regulus growls and James has never heard an Omega so aggressive while in heat. Usually they get needy, whiney, or clingy but Regulus is shoving him off the bed now.

Bewildered he stands, glasses askew on his face and trousers falling down to the floor his pants tented in the front. 

Regulus glared at him, his eyes flicking down to James’s erection and then back up to his face. James followed his look and then quickly pushed his pants down and kicked them off to the side. Regulus let out a soft purr and laid back against the pillows nuzzling against them to get more of the Alphas scent.

James carefully rested a knee on the bed causing Regulus’s head to snap back to him. James notes the golden rings that encircle his soft gray eyes and inches forward. Regulus tracks his movements closely but doesn't move any closer.

“Can I?” James asks as his hand hovers just over Regulus’s hip. 

Regulus’s eyes flick down to his hand and then back up. James groans when Regulus licks over his lower lip. The faintest nod causes the Alpha to rush forward and cover his Omega with his body. This close they are sharing air. James searches his face, Regulus isn't sure what he is looking for but he must have found it as the Alpha kisses him stupid.

His tongue slipping past his lips without warning and licking into his mouth. Regulus moans and claws at James’s back, trying to pull the Alpha deeper into his body.

James kisses down along his jaw getting lower and lower. Regulus whines at the lack of James pressing into him. The whine pitches high as James takes his full length into his mouth. Regulus’s hips buck into James’s hot wet mouth.

“What are you doing!” Regulus cries, his head thrashing against the pillow. 

James lets go with a pop and wipes his mouth with his thumb. “Gotta make you nice and relaxed, love.” He licked the underside of Regulus’s cock making him keen. 

“But.. But…” Regulus sputters. “You're an Alpha!” 

James raised an eyebrow and pushed himself up on his knees. “Yea, what is that supposed to mean?”

Regulus scoffs, “You aren't supposed to …” He gestured down to his crotch and then to James.

Jame smirks, “Darling, I’ll suck you off everyday if you keep making those pretty noises for me.” And then he winks!

Winks!

Regulus feels the hot flush across his face and chest and James loves the beautiful pink color. 

James lowers himself back down his eyes never leaving Regulus’s. “Can I?” 

Regulus knows it's wrong. Alphas take. He heard enough stories between other Omegas. They pinned their Omega down and took their pleasure before leaving them. Alphas only thought with their knot. They didn't … they didn't massage their Omegas feet and then … do that!

Rational Regulus and heat Regulus were fighting in his head and he realized he was taking a particularly long time to respond.

He meant to say yes, or sure, something not completely out of his mind. What comes out is a breathy “ please .” 

James is more than happy to oblige. Take Regulus in his mouth again inch by inch he sinks down. Regulus thinks this is the best feeling in the world and then James starts to bob his head in earnest and Regulus feels the need to cover his mouth with his hand.

James pulled off again with a soft growl. Regulus lowered his hand slowly and clutched the sheets.

“It's just here, I want to hear you.” James said before taking Regulus into the back of his throat. 

Regulus felt the urge to close his eyes but he didn't want to miss a second. When the Alpha brought his hand into the mix he almost came.

“Wait - I’m g-going to cum!”  He whined and pushed on the Alphas head. James pinned his wrists down and doubled his efforts making Regulus spill down his throat. 

James keeps licking and sucking softly at the softening cock making Regulus twitch with pleasure before releasing him.

“Fuck.” regulus groans.

James huffs a laugh and rolls onto his back dragging Regulus’s leg with him hugging around his thigh. 

“ ‘I’m going to cum’? Love, that's the whole point of this. You're my Omega. I'm going to make you cum as many times as possible. I want you to be like putty in my hands.” He said and squeezed Regulus’s thigh in emphasis. 

Regulus lay there relishing in the post orgasmic haze that pushed out all the pain. Or so he thought. The heat and pain started coming back, not as strong as before, but still painful. He tried not to jostle the Alpha as he squirmed against the too warm sheets. 

“You good to go again?” The Alpha asked and Regulus wanted to respond with words. He wanted to say ‘yes’ but all he could manage was another whine. Goddess he was needy. 

James crawled back over Regulus and kissed him again. “I’m going to use my fingers this time. Okay love?” 

Regulus nods frantically, “ Want you knot.” 

He doesn't even recognise the voice that just came out of him but James seems to react very well to it. 

“Oh fuck baby.”  James lifts Regulu’s leg and hooks it over his shoulder. He taps the other leg and Regulus lifts it himself over James’s other shoulder. “That's it baby. Fuck. ‘m going to fill you up so good. You're going to take my knot so well love.” James is babbling at this point as he mouths along Regulus’s thighs over every inch he can reach. One finger circles Regulus’s entrance, James waits until the tension seeps out of Regulus before pressing his finger in.

“Mmm , taking me so well. My beautiful Omega. Look at you.” James sucked in a breath as he pushed in another finger. 

Regulus is panting heavily now. It is so much and not enough at the same time. He was always told he could never ‘service’ himself, he had to wait for his Alpha. ‘Alphas want tight holes’ was snarled at him almost every heat. 

“Alpha. Alpha. More. Mo-please. Please more. Need you.” Regulus huffs in between breaths. James takes his Omegas cock in his mouth again as he pushes a third finger in. He gets a fourth one just as Regulus arched up as he came. 

His refractory period was getting longer. Longer moments where the pain was completely gone and all he felt with the pleasure the Alpha brought him.

James made him cum two more times with his mouth and fingers before deciding he was wet and loose enough to take his knot. 

Licking once more to savor the taste of Regulus’s slick James pulls him closer.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice is still calm and comforting. He is in no rush and waits for his Omega to answer him when he is ready.

“Yes.” Regulus moans. He is so proud he was able to actually make a coherent remark of consent this time. “Please.” He moans again and lifts his hips just so.

James smiles and pins the Omega down with one hand on his hip. “Easy love, don't want to hurt you.” Regulus isn't sure how James could possibly hurt him when he has made him feel so good and that thought jars him out of the haze for a moment. He can't get too comfortable. He shivers as the realization comes over him that yes . James could make him feel good one moment and then hurt him in the very next. He tenses at these thoughts and James stops to run his hands over Regulus calming him. 

He sinks back into the bed and breaths through his nose. James presses the head in and Regulus sees stars. Giving himself a moment to close his eyes and enjoy the lightning strikes of pleasure coursing through him now. 

Bottoming out, James enjoyed the warmth of their thighs pressed together now. He pauses, fully sheathed, and rubs his hands up and down his Omegas flank. 

“So beautiful. My perfect Omega. Such a pretty Omega. You want my knot? Mmmm my love wants me to fuck them stupid on my knot.” James is chatty. He is so close he is trying to bring his Omega closer to the edge with him because he won't be able to hold back much longer.

“Alpha. More .” 

James smiles and leans down to kiss his husband. The motion drags his cock out slightly before pressing back in as he straightens up. One testing pull out has Regulus hissing in pleasure. James thrusts back in a little faster causing Regulus to moan. He worked up his speed slowly trying to hold his knot back. His Omega is so soft, so hot, so tight around him and the Alpha in him is screaming KNOT. KNOT. KNOT.

“Going to knot you. Fill you up over and over. Gunna be so full of my pups.” Regulus whines at James' words and thrusts his hips in rhythm with him. 

“You want that love? Want to be full of my pups. I’ll take such good care of you.” James nips at the bite mark on Regulus’s neck. 

His knot starts to catch, causing Regulus to buck up hard, throwing them both off. 

“Good Omega. Gunna cum for me? You're gunna bite me.” Regulus’s eyes are rolling back in his head. He is so close. He hears the Alpha talking but doesn't fully understand what he is saying.  “Regulus!” He growls and the knot catches on his rim locking them back in place.

James exposes his neck, “Bite me.” 

Regulus is high off this knot. The Alpha is asking him to do something. He smells the Alpha so close. He wants to bite. The voice in the back of his head taunts ‘ Omegas don't mark their Alphas!’ 

But he is biting. He is biting and the metallic iron taste of blood floods his mouth. His fangs sink deeper and he can taste nothing but Alpha .