the trashcan

thank you i missed them. i am the CEO of being unable to conclude any piece i write so uh sorry about that i’ll write a part 2 if anyone is desperate for more

82. “I can finally understand why you call them your arch-nemesis…What. A. Dick.”

WC: 541

———

“I can finally understand why you call him your arch-nemesis…What. A. Dick,” Feyre said as Rhys winked at her from the bar.

“Yeah, he’s kinda hot though,” Lucien grumbled and drank from his pint. Feyre glanced over at him and found his eyes glued to Rhys’s muscular form. She couldn’t blame him.

Rhys was leaning against the bar, chatting with his cousin. He looked like he’d come here from work in his dress shirt and pants, but his shirtsleeves were rolled up and the top buttons were undone allowing Feyre to the edges of his tattoos.

His gaze slid over to Lucien and Feyre at their table again and Feyre looked away, sipping from her drink. Lucien, on the other hand, did not. He raised a challenging brow.

Rhys smirked and said something to Mor before walking over to their table.

“Need something, foxboy?” Rhys drawled, bracing a hand on the table.

Lucien smiled with false sweetness and said, “Could I talk to you in private?” His voice was dripping with that same falsity.

Rhys’s eyes flashed and his grin widened. “Sure.”

Lucien stood from the table, and Feyre watched him lead Rhys into the back hallway of the bar. She stayed where she was, getting her things together as she was sure Lucien would want to be leaving after he told Rhys off.

She looked down at her watch after a while and realised they’d been gone for longer than she’d expected and she decided to go see if she needed to break up a fight.

Quite the contrary. When she walked back into the hallway she found Lucien pressing Rhys against the wall, his lips on Rhys’s neck.

“Oh, shit,” Rhys groaned and Feyre swallowed deeply as she took a step back. Lucien’s fingers seemed to dig into Rhys’s hips. She cursed the low heat that gathered at the sight.

She should go.

She must have said as much out loud because Rhys turned to look at her, a lazy smile on his lips. His violet eyes looked her up and down as he beckoned her with a hand. She took a step closer.

“What are you doing?” Feyre heard Lucien said, his voice rough in a way that made her want to rub her thighs together. Lucien lifted his head from Rhys’s neck and flushed as he made eye contact with Feyre.

Rhys laughed softly. “I didn’t know you could blush, foxboy,” he said, raking a hand through Lucien’s hair.

“Shut up, Spera,” Lucien said, seeming to press closer to him. Rhys bit his lip as his eyes fell closed.

“I should go,” Feyre repeated, even though she really didn’t want to.

“Don’t,” Lucien blurted as she started to turn. It sounded like a question. Rhys grinned again and Lucien slapped his thigh. “You should stay. He’s annoying and I can make him go away if you want.”

“Oh, can you?” Rhys muttered, to which Lucien raised a brow at him and they made eye contact for a few moments before Rhys broke. He glanced sidelong at Feyre, looking defeated.

She smiled and took a few steps towards them. Lucien scanned her face that was now very close to his.

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

———

Summary: In a modern world, Feyre, Rhys, and Lucien have become friends with Sydney and Adrian and celebrate the new year together, not for the first time.

A/N: no edits we die like women. also final chapter hehe also it’s probably kinda shitty but at least i had fun writing it

———

“So, Feyre was just telling me how she’d had to hide the collection of nude portraits of the two of you before Sydney and I got here,” Adrian said, cutting his lasagna with the side of his fork.

Lucien choked on his wine and covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes wide. Adrian stabbed his fork into the piece of lasagna.

“Can’t say I’ve ever wanted to see that much of you guys,” Adrian said, “but now I’m intrigued.” Sydney shot Adrian a look that Lucien couldn’t read and Adrian grinned at her. She flushed and looked away.

Feyre snickered as Rhys appeared to be trying very hard to focus on his food.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t get them out,” Feyre said, swirling her wine, still snickering. Lucien glared at her and she flashed him a grin that had him shifting in his seat.

“The food tastes really good, Lucien,” Sydney said. Lucien was grateful for her attempt at a change in conversation but also noticed the look Adrian cast him. He ignored it the best he could and smiled at Sydney.

“Thank you,” Lucien said, cutting his lasagna. “It’s Rhys’s mom’s recipe, but he can’t cook for shit.” Rhys gasped, a hand to his chest as if he hadn’t already been told this many times throughout their relationship.

“I thought you loved me,” Rhys said in mock-horror. Lucien rolled his eyes, even as a genuine smile bloomed on his face. Rhys’s dramatics never failed to make him smile, even on the hardest of days.

Adrian leaned over and whispered something to Feyre, and her face softened before her brows shot up.

“That reminds me! I have some things for you and Sydney,” Feyre said, wiping her mouth with her napkin quickly and standing from the table. Lucien’s smile widened as she hurried over to the Yule tree and grabbed the two gift bags.

“Fey—“ Sydney started as she realised what Feyre was doing.

“Hush, Sydney Sage-Ivashkov,” Feyre said firmly as she handed the bags to Sydney and Adrian. “You’re opening that present whether you like it or not.”

“But we didn’t get anything for you—“

Sydney was cut off by Feyre gripping her chin. Lucien watched Sydney’s eyes go wide, scanning Feyre’s face. “Stop that,” Feyre said. “I don’t give gifts with the expectation of something in return. I do it because I like making people smile. It’s the same reason I paint. Okay?”

Sydney nodded and Feyre released her chin with a smirk. Lucien noticed how Adrian watched Sydney carefully as she pulled the tissue paper from the bag.

Inside the tissue paper was a bulging envelope; Lucien had told Feyre to just give her the envelope but she wanted it to feel more special. Sydney opened the envelope and Lucien saw Feyre bouncing on her toes.

Sydney pulled out the stack of photographs and tilted her head to the side as she flipped through them briefly. When she looked up, her eyes were watery.

“Where—how…” Sydney looked to Feyre who glanced at Adrian.

“Adrian said there were a bunch of pictures you wanted to put up around the house, but you’d never scheduled time to get them printed and pick them up,” Feyre said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. A motion Lucien knew meant she was self-conscious. “So I had him send some over and I had them printed. It’s not much, but…” She shrugged and Sydney took her hand.

“Thank you.” Feyre nodded and squeezed Sydney’s hand.

After another moment, Feyre sat back down in her seat at the head of the table between Adrian and Lucien and gestured for Adrian to open his own gift.

“The sappy bits are over then?” Adrian said, glancing around the table. “Thank goodness.” Sydney rolled her eyes, but smiled the same smile that Lucien had before.

Hours later, they all stood crowded around the TV, champagne glasses in hand. All of them had been filled with champagne except Adrian’s, for whom Lucien had picked up sparkling cider.

Rhys had made them all put on their little ‘Happy New Year’ headbands and Lucien’s was only digging into his head a tiny bit.

Since they’d gotten together, Rhys, Lucien, and Feyre had alternated who kissed first when they rang in the New Year. This year Lucien was kissing Rhys. Which meant Feyre would be watching them with that look in her eye as she sipped her champagne.

Lucien looked over at Feyre at the thought. Her arm was draped over Sydney’s shoulder and she whispered something into her ear that made Sydney blush and laugh nervously. Feyre’s face lit up and Lucien wondered for a moment if Feyre had ever—

“Foxboy,” Adrian said, snapping Lucien out of his thoughts, “I want to thank you for this cider.” For once, he sounded genuine. Not that Adrian wasn’t ever genuine, or that Lucien had never witnessed him be as such, it was just rare. “I know myself and I know… Well, I know that one glass of champagne would’ve just led to another and another and I’m… grateful that not only have you, or Rhys, or Feyre never pressured me into drinking, you made an effort to get an alternative?”

He sounded so stumbling that Lucien reached out and squeezed his arm. “I’d do it for anyone,” Lucien said.

“But especially me, hm?” Adrian said with a wink and Lucien sighed. “Look at that we’ve got a minute left. Better go sweep my wife into my arms and—“ Lucien shoved him towards Sydney as he laughed.

Feyre slipped away from Sydney as Rhys slipped his arm around Lucien’s waist. Feyre interlaced her fingers with Lucien as she came up beside him.

30 seconds.

“Hey, babe?” Rhys said in his ear, sending shivers over Lucien’s body.

“Yeah?” Lucien said as he turned to look at Rhys.

“You’re really hot.”

20 seconds.

Lucien swallowed. “Oh?” Rhys hummed affirmatively and Feyre squeezed his hand. These two were going to be the death of him.

10 seconds.

They started counting down. Lucien kept his gaze locked on Rhys’s the whole time.

“Happy New Year!” They all shouted at the end of the countdown, confetti coming down on the broadcast of Times Square.

Rhys leaned in and kissed him, smiling like he knew exactly what was going through Lucien’s head at that moment. For Sydney and Adrian’s sake, Lucien hoped they left shortly.

As he pulled away, Rhys murmured, “Happy New Year, Lucien.”

———

See my masterlist to read other chapters.

Feyre was freaking out.

In all honesty, she caught herself smiling about it, but she couldn’t tell if it was happiness or just a whole other level of panicking.

Her period was late. Wich wasn’t a big deal, since it was prone to be a bit all over the place and anything could influence it. She didn’t take the pill (simply because she hated it) and was too scared of medical stuff to try anything else, so her doctor had said everything was fine and she didn’t have to worry as long as they just got used to using condoms.

Except that, well, it was a new adjustion, perhaps that one time they were so drunk they forgot. And condoms could fail too, even if that was a single chance in a million.

But how did that happen did not matter much now, she decided. It had happen and now she needed to deal with it.

She had realized before her period was late, but she had brushed it off. Headaches, mood swings, sensitive breasts, exhaustion, her appetite suddenly changing. But she had been stressed with work- none of her illustrations seemed to be enough to that asshole of a writer, who was always frowning upon her for being a woman, as if her job was less because of it.

So when she combined all of that with her period being late, they all blamed the stress. It wasn’t until the second week she decided to do something about it.

She took some days off of work secretly (yes, she had spent the week pretending she was going to work when in reality, she left the house and just turned around the block until her boyfriends had left, just to go back inside and spend her whole days crying over ice cream) and went to the hospital alone to get a blood test. And now, five days later, the envelope with the result was tight against her chest. She had opened it, not surprised at all about the screaming positive on the first paragraph of it.

She was lying on the floor in the middle of the hall in their new house. She was well aware that she looked crazy, all in sweats, clinging to a paper on the floor, face streamed with tears.

Really, she wish she could be more dramatic and be on the bathtub with a glass of whine, but the tub was really uncomfortable when it wasn’t filled with water, and she couldn’t drink alcohol anymore. That was when she cried, and then went to fill a glass with chocolate milk and lay on the floor, because at least it was cold and not as overwhelming as every other surface.

The truth was that she didn’t know how to deal with children, and having one scared the shit out of her. She didn’t like playing, didn’t know how to discipline and did not have any patience for them at all.

She always told herself that her kid would be different. Now, she kept thinking the kid would hate her, that her boyfriends wouldn’t want her anymore after all of it, or she would fail her child in every way. That they would be bullied in school for having three parents or, gods, she didn’t even know.

She knew she was overthinking and that she actually really wanted them. Just wasn’t expecting it now. She was just 26, for gods sake. Feyre, Rhys and Lucien were together for just four years now and they just got their new house. What if they didn’t want it?

For all that she feared, she knew she could do it alone. But she would want it way more if her boyfriends were happy about it. They probably would be, and would support her through any decision that she wanted to make, even if it hurt them. And that was a problem since she wanted their thoughts first, not their immediate posture of support just because she needed it.

“Feyre, why are you lying on the ground darling?”

Shit, she thinks, stopping the attempt of balancing the glass on her forehead. She had been so deep in thought she didn’t see her boyfriends arrival.

“I’m having a mental breakdown,” she says, looking at them. Both stop to seem so amused when they realise that she is actually serious.

“Over what, love?” Lucien just picks her up while Rhys takes her cup, going to the couch, were they just nuzzle her between them.

“And is that why you are having chocolate milk on a wine glass?” Rhys frowns looking at it, trying not to laugh.

“Sort of,” she says, and still holding the paper with one hand but using the other to pull her hood on and pull the strings until it was completely covering her face.

Feyre sighs, and they wait. She can tell they are worried, since she was home when she should be at work, and her eyes were red, and she looked like a whole mess. She didn’t think this through, but she didn’t want to look at them when she told, afraid of their reaction.

Should she just rip it like a bandaid, really fast? Or start with an explanation, or give them the envelope to read, or wait and do a surprise or-

“Love,” Lucien whispers, apparently having reached the point were worry overcomes patience. “Look at us,” he thugs on the hood, but she just pulls her head the other way. “Tell us what is going on,” he says, both him and Rhys running their hands softly through her waist, her legs.

“I..” she stumbles, quickly deciding that telling fast was better. “I’m pregnant.”

She lets her head fall on Rhys shoulder. She can feel them freeze, and then, after what seems like forever, they grip her tighter, closer. She knows they are looking at each other and then at her, talking in that annoying way that consists just of eyes and expressions, but she doesn’t see what is written in their faces. Helpless, she starts to cry and hands them the results blindly.

“I just.. Things were weird and I didn’t think it was true,” her voice is low, words cut by sobs. “I should have told you before,” she raises her head while one of them starts pulling her hood off. “Especially because I had to go to the hospital alone and the nurse had to hold my hand because I was so scared of the needle I cried.”

Lucien, who was uncovering her face, chuckles and wipes her tears. She only sees that Rhys has thrown the envelope to the side, her chocolate milk glass in the coffee table, and then they are both laughing and kissing her face and her neck and hugging her and suddenly they were lying on the couch, both of them looking completely pleased and wondered.

“Yes, you should have told us. We are always the ones to hold your hand through it,” he pokes her side lightly, trying to act angry, but all he could do was laugh. “But we’re not mad about it. This is actually amazing, darling,” Rhys says, almost sounding out of breath, tears lining his eyes.

“I bet this is why you have been so desperate for cheeseburgers lately,” Lucien jokes, his hand hovering her belly in the most softest, protective way. “How did we get so lucky to find a woman like this?” He says to his boyfriend, while she just cries harder, burying her face against his chest.

“So you are happy about it?” her voice comes muffled. “Both of you?”

“We are absolutely euphoric, Feyre,” Rhys says, fingers running through her hair. “We love you so much. I love you so fucking much, there is nothing more that I could wish for than to make a family with both of you.”

“You, on the other hand, don’t seem very happy,” Luc tenses slightly, after she stays quiet, still crying. She can feel Rhys doing the same. “Don’t you.. want to keep it?” He whispers, broken.

She turns to look at him. Then she starts to laugh, because no, this was not really what she had expected at all. She knew they would be happy, but she was panicking for weeks and scared, so, so scared they would leave her or fight her or something.

“I want this as long as you want it too,” she says when she finally calms down, and they relax. “But I was scared and I didn’t know what to think.”

“Was that why you were crying on the floor?” Rhys says, resuming his caresses.

“No, I was crying because I wanted to have wine so bad,” she smiles, watching Lucien bark a laugh so hard that he almost fell from the couch. “You really shouldn’t have brought up the cheeseburger, though. Now I want it.”

He grins, kissing her pout. “You don’t have to worry, babe. I’ll take care of all your food cravings.”

“And I’ll take care of all other cravings,” Rhys’s says, the look on his face almost devilish with delight. “We will spoil the fuck out of you.”

Lucien mockingly glares at him, covering her belly. “No swearing in front of the baby.”

*******

Hey! This is my first AU. Sorry of there are any mistakes, english is not my first language so sometimes it slips and i don’t realize.

This whole thing is based in two things: one is A Change in The Game, by @howtotameyourillyrian , because I wanted Feyre to be pregnant on that one chapter so bad but she wasn’t so I had to write something to make my dreams come true. The second thing is that I actually feel like crying for a cheeseburger now, but i don’t eat meat bc i’m generally disgusted by it so yeah my mind screws me over sometimes. I’m not pregnant tho, just hungry and sappy.

Summary: In a modern world, Feyre, Rhys, and Lucien have become friends with Sydney and Adrian and celebrate the new year together, not for the first time.

A/N: sydrian are both bi. that’s all.

———

Sydney tapped her foot nervously after knocking on the apartment door. Adrian draped his arm over her shoulders and she let out a breath to calm herself.

“We’re early,” Sydney said, glancing down at her watch. “I know I like to be early to things, but you said it’s better to be late to things like this and I still shoved us out the door. I didn’t know what traffic would be like, to be fair, but—“

The door opened to reveal a flushed Feyre in a pretty green dress that Sydney would never be able to pull off. Her hair fell in soft brown waves over her shoulders and she smiled gently at Sydney and Adrian.

“Come in, come in,” Feyre said, opening the door wider and gesturing with her hand. “The food’s almost ready.” Sydney watched her eyes fall on the cheese board in her own arms. Feyre smiled a bit goofily. “You really didn’t have to bring anything, Syd.”

“I know, but I thought it was the least we could do,” Sydney explained as she passed it to Feyre’s awaiting arms. Feyre glanced at Adrian with a knowing look before giving Sydney a brief one-armed hug.

“Rhys and Lucien are still in the kitchen I think,” Feyre said as she pulled away and backed up a few steps towards the kitchen. “Ignore the mistletoe, if you can.”

Adrian’s hand slipped into Sydney’s as they followed Feyre. Lucien and Rhys were whispering to each other when they walked in and Sydney saw Adrian smirk.

“Hey!” Feyre said, snapping in Rhys and Lucien’s faces. They both looked at her with amused expressions. “We have guests.”

“Apologies, darling,” Rhys said, pressing a kiss to her temple before turning his attention to Sydney and Adrian.

Adrian stepped away from Sydney’s side and walked towards Rhys. “How’s my muse doing?” he said, cupping Rhys’s face in his hands and examining his face.

Rhys blinked lazily at him as Lucien walked around them and pulled Sydney into a hug. She squeezed him tightly.

“How was your Christmas, Mrs. Sage-Ivashkov?” Lucien said as he pulled back and held Sydney at arms length. “Did Declan get what he wanted?”

“I should hope so,” Sydney said with a smile. “Adrian splurged on some of the gifts. We went over our budget.” She frowned slightly and Lucien squeezed her arm.

“Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us,” Lucien said. “And anyway, you’re better at budgeting than anyone here.” The oven timer dinged and Lucien gave her a reassuring smile before going to take out the food.

Adrian had finished inspecting Rhys by then and turned his attention on Feyre. “I refuse to do anything else before I see some of your newest paintings.” Feyre laughed brightly and led Adrian into the rest of the apartment.

Rhys took a step towards Sydney, only to be pushed by Lucien.

“Shoo, I need to finish up,” Lucien said and pointed around Sydney. “You too, miss.” Sydney put her hands up in surrender and followed Rhys out of the kitchen with a laugh.

She was almost immediately being embraced by Rhys, not tight enough to hurt but tight enough that she felt comforted. When he released her, he held up a finger before darting into the kitchen.

He returned with an open bottle of wine and a pair of glasses and blew a kiss towards Lucien who did not look pleased. Beckoning Sydney towards him, Rhys walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa.

She sat down next to him and crossed her legs. Rhys frowned at her as he filled both of the glasses with wine.

“How are you doing?” Rhys said, handing her one of the glasses. She swirled the wine in her glass with a shrug.

“Good,” Sydney said before taking a sip. She glanced at the bottle. Yes, it was a very nice bottle of wine. She took another sip. Rhys watched her silently as she rolled her neck and sighed. “Say it, Rhys.”

“You need to relax,” he said, taking her free hand. Sydney frowned, her brows furrowed.

“I am relaxed.” Rhys gave her a knowing look and she looked away, sipping her wine again.

“There’s no need to be stressed right now, Sydney,” Rhys said, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “I know it’s hard, but Declan’s having a swell time with Jill and Eddie, I’m sure. And work doesn’t matter tonight. The museum isn’t even open tomorrow, right?” Sydney nodded. “You’re here to have fun, no?” Sydney nodded again, a bit reluctantly.

“Then relax,” he said, emphasising it with a squeeze of her hand. “Take your shoes off, stay awhile.” Sydney laughed softly and Rhys grinned. She slipped off her shoes as a bell rang in the kitchen.

Rhys laughed loudly. “Feyre got that for Lucien this year for Solstice,” he said. “It was a joke. I’m surprised he deigned to use it.”

Adrian and Feyre came out of the combined study and studio grinning like fools and whispering to each other. Adrian snorted, walked over to Sydney and offered his hand to her. She smiled up at him and took his hand.

Adrian pulled her up and pecked her lips. She was distantly aware of Feyre and Rhys heading over to the dinner table. Adrian raised her hand to his lips and held eye contact as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

Sydney’s lips parted as she looked into his emerald eyes, at the adoration in them. Adrian winked and led her over to the table.

———

Summary: In a modern world, Feyre, Rhys, and Lucien have become friends with Sydney and Adrian and celebrate the new year together, not for the first time.

———

Feyre sighed as she opened the door of their apartment for Lucien, whose arms were full of bags. He glanced up at the mistletoe still hanging in the doorway, and she huffed a laugh and kissed him as she took some of the bags from his arms.

“Is that my love returning from war?” Rhys called from the living room. Lucien rolled his eyes, but looked amused nonetheless.

Feyre and Lucien set the bags down on the kitchen counter. Pushing one of the bags towards her, Lucien said, “That’s the one with all the decorations.” She looked inside and snorted.

“He’ll be thrilled,” Feyre said as she picked up the bag.

“That was the goal,” Lucien said softly, taking the items out of the bags and setting them on the counter or putting them in the fridge. Feyre paused for a moment to watch him, her heart swelling. He looked over at her. “What?”

Feyre shook her head, not bothering to hide the smile on her face.

The bag in her arms was full of shiny silver decorations and she wondered if Lucien had just gotten a bit of everything. That was probably the case if she was being honest.

Rhys was poised on a ladder, still in his underwear, pinning up a banner with push pins. “Darling, is that you?” he said. “I need your help.”

“With?” Feyre said, placing the grocery bag on the dinner table. She looked up at him as she rounded the ladder.

Tacking the pin to the wall and beginning to climb down the ladder, Rhys said, “I’m moving the ladder to pin up the other side and I need you to tell me if it’s straight—“ He chuckled to himself. “No, not straight, even.”

“Yes, fine,” Feyre said and walked over to sit on the sofa. She was perfectly okay with admiring his backside and his tattoos under the pretense of doing him a favour. “Lucien bought you some more decorations, by the way.”

Rhys’s face lit up as he looked towards the kitchen. “Did he? Lucien! Baby, thank you!”

“Any time, pretty boy,” Lucien replied, and Rhys turned back to the ladder as a flush crept up his neck.

A few hours later, the apartment smelled amazing from the food Lucien was cooking up, and Rhys had turned on holiday music that now spewed from the speakers as he swept Feyre up into a dance.

Feyre laughed as Rhys twirled her around. He pressed their foreheads together as he pulled her back in, always staying close.

He’d finished setting up all of his decorations with little help from Feyre. He was perfectly content to do it all by himself and Feyre found it endearing. Rhys had also gotten dressed, and Feyre had wanted to complain but really he looked so damn good in his form-fitting trousers and knit jumper that she couldn’t complain.

Their guests would be here soon but they were happy to enjoy each other’s company for now. Lucien had already opened a bottle of wine while he was cooking and sipped some from a glass as he checked on the lasagna. He’d tied back his hair and an apron—it read “Kiss the Cook” and Rhys had bought it for his birthday—protected his clothes.

“Hey, Luce?” Feyre said, resting her chin on Rhys’s shoulder as she looked over it. He looked over at her with raised brows as he closed the oven. “I love you.”

Lucien smiled and set down his wine glass on the counter. Something in her felt warm and fuzzy at that smile. Rhys’s hand brushed up and down her back as they swayed slowly. Lucien took a few steps towards them and caressed Feyre’s cheek with the back of his hand.

She leaned into the touch as he said, “I love you too, angel.”

Feeling Rhys’s hand leave her waist, she opened her mouth to protest, only for Rhys to guide Lucien’s hand to the same place. Her eyes flicked to Rhys’s, which had darkened as he watched her. His eyes fluttered and Feyre glanced over at where Lucien had pressed his lips to Rhys’s neck.

She tilted her head up, lips just centimetres away from Rhys’s. They’d just brushed against each other when a knock came from the door.

———

Summary: In a modern world, Feyre, Rhys, and Lucien have become friends with Sydney and Adrian and celebrate the new year together, not for the first time.

A/N: The ultimate question for this whole fic is ‘have they fucked?’ you tell me because i can’t tell. Also... no one ever asked for this but cait indulged in my idea so here we are

———

Adrian pushed the shopping cart around the store as he followed Sydney up and down the aisles.

“I just don’t know what to bring,” Sydney said, stopping in the middle of the aisle, her hands on her hips. Her hair was up in a sleek high ponytail that swished as she turned to look at him. “Adrian.”

“Hm?” Adrian said as he grabbed Declan’s favourite pop-tarts and put them in the basket.

“What should we bring?” Sydney asked. Adrian shrugged and pushed the cart forward.

“A bottle of wine should be fine,” Adrian said, glancing down at their shopping list for the week. “I won’t drink any, but they certainly will.”

Adrian could’ve sworn that Sydney snorted before she frowned. “I want to bring something of sustenance.”

“Then pick up some things for a cheese board, Sage,” Adrian said. “Lucien said he had food covered though.” Lucky for him. Adrian had cooked on Christmas for the whole gang and was not ready to cook for any more people than him, Sydney, and Declan for a long time.

Sydney bit her lip and Adrian felt only slightly guilty for the way his eyes dropped to her lips at the movement.

“Okay,” Sydney said. Her expression lightened as if she’d resolved it all in her head. “I’ll be right back.” Adrian smiled after her as she walked the other way down the aisle.

Adrian continued down the aisle, crossing things off the list as he went. It was a much quieter visit to the grocery store today. Usually Declan came with them and whined—in both Spanish and English—about not getting the sugary cereal he wanted. Today, however, they’d dropped him off with Jill and Eddie, who’d been begging to see him. At least Jill had. Adrian didn’t think Castile had much say in the matter.

As he was crossing yet another item off his list, Adrian heard someone call his name. His head snapped up, eyebrows raised. He grinned at the sight of Lucien coming towards him with a cart of his own.

“Afternoon, foxboy,” Adrian drawled. Lucien rolled his eyes and leaned against his cart that was full of ingredients for what looked to be lasagna.

“Weekly shopping trip?” Lucien said, glancing between Adrian’s list and the cart that was half full. Adrian hummed in affirmation.

“Sydney’s around here somewhere, picking out whatever she finds fit for a cheese board for tonight,” Adrian said, smiling as he thought of her standing in front of the cheese, trying to find the best one that fit in their budget.

Lucien’s brows furrowed and he shook his head. “You guys don’t have to bring anything,” he said.

“That’s what I told her,” Adrian said with a shrug. “She was very adamant.”

Lucien chuckled. “Yes, that sounds about right.” Then Lucien’s phone rang and he smiled softly at it as he slipped it out of his pocket. “Hey, love, what’s up?” Silence as he listened. “I thought he already had enough.” Lucien sighed but looked content as he ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ll get some more...Love you too, bye.”

Lucien hung up and slid his phone back into his pocket. “That was Feyre, apparently Rhys is claiming the need for more New Year’s decorations. I should hurry up and get them and get home so I can get dinner ready.” Lucien winked and Adrian nodded knowingly.

“See you later,” Adrian said as Lucien continued down the aisle with a little wave.

———

Sydney reappeared a few minutes later with her arms full of items, all stacked neatly in a pile. She peered over them to plead with Adrian to help her.

He gladly took the groceries from her arms and placed them in the cart. She gestured for him to hand her the list.

“I’ve got everything,” Adrian said as he handed it to her. He watched her face as she scanned the list, double-checking as she always did. Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer. Her jumper was soft under his fingertips.

Sydney looked up at him, her brows furrowed. “What?” Adrian didn’t say anything. “You were right,” she glanced down at the list, “You got everything.”

“I’m always right,” Adrian said, shrugging again. Sydney looked back up at him as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Oh, Adrian.” She rocked up on her tiptoes and pecked his cheek before slipping out of his arms. “C’mon, let’s go.” As always, he trailed after her, wondering at how he’d gotten so lucky.

———

A/N: this has been written for a hot sec, but I haven’t had time to post it until now so I hope you enjoy… not really sure where it’s going but I’m having fun

———-

Lucien Vanserra was chest-deep in nerves by the time a knock came from his apartment door. It was Wednesday evening. On Monday, he’d interviewed at Rhys’s company and immediately been put to work. 

He hadn’t been able to tell if his job was just very detached from Rhys’s or if Rhys was keeping his distance on purpose. As such, he hadn’t seen much of Rhys in the past few days, but he hadn’t seen Feyre either so perhaps Rhys was avoiding him so as to not un-level the playing field. 

That didn’t mean Lucien was exempt from text messages from either party. Some of them bordered on a bit risky for having known each other less than a week, not that Lucien really cared. The last few evenings without them had been… hard. 

I loved writing this prompt so much omg, thank you!

Word Count: 1378 words

Rhysand had been best friends with Azriel and Cassian for as long as he could remember. The trio was often mistaken as brothers—both because of their striking resemblance to one another and because of how close they were. Although that wasn’t the case, given the fact they shared no blood relation, they considered each other family nonetheless.

Things weren’t always as easy as it was growing up. When they were children and teenagers, Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel were able to see one another at school on a daily basis, now as adults, spending time together was a vastly more difficult task. They each had their own relationships, personal lives, and jobs to take care of, plus their tight bond together as friends to keep track of. Sadly, it left minimal time for them to spend time together the way they used to. 

Despite this, Rhys had made it a priority to have get-togethers with either of his non-biological-brothers at the very least twice a month. A time where they could go get drinks or go out for lunch and catch up on each other’s lives. It was an occasion either of the three men never failed to look forward to. 

The particular case of the present moment was a nice dinner at a restaurant, Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Morrigan sat around the table. Mor wasn’t always present at these get-togethers, though she did occasionally tag along given her own deep connection with the boys. They were one another’s true family for many years—a fact Rhys doubted would ever change. 

Cassian scratched at the stubble gracing his jaw, an anxious expression written across his features as he began, “Rhysand?” 

Rhys lifted a curious brow, mentally noting that whatever Cassian was about to say was serious given the use of his full name. Rhys raised his glass of deep red wine, taking a long sip as Cassian continued, “I- I hate to tell you this, I really do, but I think Feyre is cheating on you.”

Rhys nearly choked on his wine, droplets of the rogue liquid landing on his face from the sudden jolt his body made at Cassian’s words. “What?”

Noticing Azriel and Mor ready to come to Feyre’s defence, Cassian stated, “I saw her kissing Lucien Vanser—”

“Oh!” Rhys’s eyes went wide as his cheeks heated. “No! Cass—it’s okay.”

Rhysand glanced at his friends’ faces, watching their confusion. Azriel spoke, “I don’t understand, did you and Feyre break up? Because if she is cheating and you’re fine with it because you’re stupidly in love with her, that’s a whole different issue.” 

“No one is cheating on anyone, alright?” Rhys huffed out a sigh. He hadn’t yet told his friends and family about the fact he was in a polyamorous triad with the loves of his life, simply because he didn’t know how they would react, but he guessed now was a good time as any. “Feyre and I have been in a polyamorous relationship with Lucien for a few months now—perhaps four or five?”

Mor opened her mouth to speak, however, Cassian asked before she was able, “Polyamory… Isn’t that the thing Mormons do?”

Azriel elbowed him in the side, gaining a grunt of pain from Cass in return. “That’s polygamy, not polyamory. They’re similar, yet different.”

Cassian flashed a pointed look at Rhys, silently asking him if what Azriel said was correct. Rhys offered a short nod before elaborating, “Polygamy is when an individual has multiple spouses, polyamory is when someone has multiple lovers. Polygamy also tends to be based in religion whereas polyamory is simply about loving who you love because you want to.”

“So are you and Feyre dating and she’s also dating Lucien?”

“Some poly relationships work that way, however, for my relationship, we are all with each other. I’m just as in love with Feyre as I am with Lucien, and they feel the same with me and one another.” Rhys paused as a gentle smile tugged at his lips. “We’re happy.”

Mor grabbed Rhysand’s hand from across the table, squeezing it lovingly in her fingers as she spoke, “Rhys, when I came out to you all those years ago, you were nothing but supportive and kind when my father was the opposite. I will always support you with whatever makes you happy, and you should never feel the need to hide such an important part of yourself because of fear I will think differently.”

Rhys gripped her hand in return, bowing his head in appreciation as he murmured, “Thank you, Mor.”

Azriel clapped a hand to Rhys’s shoulder. “I would never criminalize you for loving someone, Rhys. There’s no need to feel ashamed or embarrassed about who you choose to love—regardless of the number of people that may be.”

Rhys nodded softly in thanks before turning his head to Cassian. He smirked, “Of course I support you, Rhysie. If I’m honest, I’m a tad jealous. Twice the hugs, twice the kisses, and daily threesomes—it almost sounds unfair!”

Rhys let out a joyous laugh before the four of them returned to their prior conversations—only this time, Rhys didn’t have anything to hide.

—

Feyre lazily moaned against Lucien’s lips as his tongue brushed against hers, his hand lingering at the bare skin of her back beneath one of Rhys’s T-shirts. They were snuggled in bed beneath a number of blankets while watching a movie, though neither of them had been paying attention to the screen for the past half hour—far too distracted with gentle kisses that had eventually turned into a heavy make-out session. 

The sound of the front door startled Lucien and Feyre, breaking their kiss as they turned their attention to the still closed bedroom door. Feyre faced Lucien once more, playing with the ends of his red hair in her fingertips as she grinned, “Rhys is home.”

Soon enough, the bedroom door swung open, revealing their missing third party. 

“Okay, where were you two making out today?” Rhys asked, accusation in his tone as he pressed his hip against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. Lucien’s gaze flickered to Feyre’s before they both brought their eyes back to Rhys. When neither spoke, Rhysand continued, “Cassian had to inform me today that my Feyre darling was cheating on me with Lucien Vanserra.”

“Shit,” Feyre cursed beneath her breath as the realization set in. “Rhys, I’m so sorry. I know—” She noticed the sly smirk written across his features and promptly stopped mid-sentence. “You’re not mad?”

Rhys pushed off of the doorframe, crossing the distance between himself and the bed, only to take Feyre’s cheeks in his palms and press a kiss to her lips. “Of course, I’m not mad. There’s nothing wrong with the two people I love most in this world sharing that love whenever and wherever they wish. Besides, it provided the perfect opportunity to finally tell Cassian, Azriel, and Mor about us.”

Lucien’s russet eyes went wide, as did Feyre’s crystal blue ones. “You told them?” She asked, completely flabbergasted. “Rhys, how did it go? I’m so incredibly proud of you, babe.”

Rhys chuckled softly. “It went perfectly. Now, I just got home and as much as I would love to continue this conversation, I desperately need to pee.”

As Rhys moved to pull away, Feyre caught his hands in her fingers, tugging him closer once more. When he was in reach, she wrapped her arms around his neck, arching her neck up so their lips were only a hair’s width apart. She whined, “But I’ve missed you all day.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips. “I promise I’ll only be a moment, then you two may do whatever you wish to me. Or whatever you wish for me to do to you.” 

Rhys pulled away with a wink and the click of his tongue before disappearing into the bathroom, but just as he had stated, returned mere minutes later, wearing only his boxers. He joined his boyfriend and girlfriend in bed, spending hours laughing, kissing, and simply holding one another close to their chests. 

Rhysand, Feyre and Lucien. 

Without one, they felt incomplete—they were incomplete. 

Rhysand, Feyre and Lucien.

The way it would always be.  

Tagged: (let me know if you want to be added!)

Unsurprisingly, this fic turned smutty, bUT I do have many other soft feyrhycien fics coming relatively soon as well as another smutty one! Thank you for all the feyrhycien prompts, you’re an angel! 

Word Count: 1642 words 

If there was one thing Lucien and Rhysand loved more than each other and Feyre Archeron herself, it was making her jealous. The adorable pout on her lips when she was needy for attention never failed to make either of the men grin like idiots, which was precisely the reason they had been ignoring her for nearly ten minutes along their early autumn walk. 

Feyre had been whining, groaning, even jumping on either of their backs as Lucien and Rhys walked hand in hand along the pathway, Feyre trailing reluctantly behind them as they talked about anything and everything with smirks written across their features, purposely leaving their girlfriend out of the conversation. 

“Rhysaaannnnddd,” Feyre whined. “Luciiieeennn.”

Rhys raised a brow as he squeezed his lover’s hand. “Lucien, my dear, is it just me or does the wind oddly resemble our names?”

Lucien hummed, sarcasm dripping in his voice as he spoke, “I believe you’re correct, my love. How peculiar!”

“You guys are mean. I’m having flashbacks to when Nesta and Elain would pretend I was invisible for hours and run around the house looking for me when I was right there! It was honestly traumatic,” Feyre declared, her brows furrowed. 

However, just as before, the boys merely continued their conversation as though Feyre was nowhere to be found, though she was beginning to notice their failed attempts at holding in their laughter. They may have been having fun, but when she agreed to go on a walk with the loves of her life, Feyre expected secret outdoor sex, not being ignored by her two favourite people. 

She grumbled something unintelligible beneath her breath before slipping in between Rhys and Lucien’s bodies, parting their hands so she could lace her fingers with theirs instead. Feyre swung her arms as she walked with them, her gaze flickering back and forth between them as she stated, “It’s hand-holding season. We’d better not waste the opportunity.”

Rhysand flashed a grin towards Lucien who wore a likewise expression before they both glanced down at her. They had to admit, her dedication was admirable. 

Sandwiched in between her lovers, Feyre was suddenly reminded of how small she was in comparison and instinctively smiled, warmth spreading across her freckled cheeks. She loved being tiny in their arms. It made her feel warm and safe. And when it came to sex, being so small compared to two tall, broad men gave her a feeling she couldn’t quite describe. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that these two men—both large and intimidating—could give her the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced and softly snuggle up against her body and whisper how much they loved her. The contrast made her heart skip a beat, as though she was falling in love all over again. 

Despite Feyre’s best efforts, Rhysand and Lucien continued to avoid bringing her attention throughout the rest of their walk home, all while proceeding their meaningless conversations about their favourite pizza toppings or whatever else came to their minds, however, they didn’t bother to drop her hands, a factor Feyre was satisfied with. 

Once they had, at last, made it home and inside, Feyre asked, “Okay, now are you done ignoring me? It’s been nearly an hour of this torture! Do either of you have an ounce of sympathy in your bodies?”

Rhys hummed as he hung his jacket on the coat hanger next to the door, then turning his attention towards Feyre. He sauntered over to her, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocked his head to the side. “Lucien, my love, perhaps she has a point, we have been awfully cruel today. However, can we make it up to you, Feyre darling? Lucien, might you have a suggestion?”

Returning a playful smirk to Rhys, Lucien crossed the distance between himself and Feyre, gripping her waist in his fingertips as he pulled her flush against the front of his body. Lucien delicately brushed Feyre’s hair from her shoulder, the gentle caress of his fingertips against her skin sending shivers down her spine. She arched beneath his touch as Lucien’s fingers slipped to her lower back, then beneath her shirt to her bare skin. At a leisurely pace, as though he had the rest of his life to do so, Lucien lowered his head to her neck, brushing his lips down the length of her throat as he whispered, “I believe I have the perfect solution...” 

He punctuated the phrase with a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Feyre’s neck, forcing a moan from her throat as her nails dug into his shoulder blades. Lucien pried his lips from her neck, flicking his tongue over the place he kissed before pulling back to admire the small, red hurt in his wake. He smirked to himself for a brief moment before dropping his hands from Feyre’s waist, taking backwards steps away from her as he watched the way she squeezed her thighs closer together after every step he took. 

“Once again, Feyre, my love, it is only a suggestion. The choice is yours to make.”

There was a moment of silence, the moment long enough to make Rhys and Lucien glance towards one another in confusion, but before Rhys got the chance to speak, Feyre whimpered, “Please.”

Neither Rhysand, Feyre, or Lucien knew who moved first or when, but suddenly Feyre was against the wall, Rhys’s hips snug between her thighs with her ankles locked at his back. His hands were occupied with pinning Feyre’s wrists above her head as he focused his lips on her neck and the tops of her breasts while Lucien kissed Rhys’s neck from behind—one of his hands buried in Feyre’s hair while the other traced patterns on Rhys’s body. 

The three of them; the way it was always meant to be. 

Eventually, they made it to their bedroom, clothes sprawled all across their home from the long journey to their room. Feyre vaguely remembered losing her bra in the hallway and her underwear in the living room, but she didn’t particularly care for specifics, especially as Rhys parted her thighs and his tongue met with her heated core. 

Letting out a cry of pleasure, Feyre’s moans were silenced by Lucien’s lips against her own as his fingertips skimmed down the length of her body to her knot, applying pressure as he moved his fingers in smooth circles. Feyre whined against his mouth, the sound nearly forcing his climax on the spot. She slipped her fingers to his hard length, brushing teasing stokes over his skin before she wrapped her fingers around him, pumping her hand at a leisurely pace. It was Lucien’s turn to moan, forcing a self-satisfied smirk to Feyre’s lips. 

As she continued toying with Lucien’s cock, free hand found Rhys’s scalp, her fingers buried in the dark mass of his hair. His tongue did wonders inside of her, however, it wasn’t until Rhys slipped two fingers within her, pumping at a swift pace as he nipped and sucked at her outer lips and inner thighs when Feyre felt the pressure of her climax building inside of her lower abdomen. 

Lucien removed his fingers from her knot as he took her nipple into his mouth, using his hand to palm her other breast. With Feyre’s newly exposed knot, Rhys moved his lips from the skin of her thighs to the bundle of nerves of her sex, sucking and rolling it between his teeth and lips. Feyre arched against the bed, nearly screaming in pleasure as she fisted her fingers in Rhys’s hair, most likely pulling too tightly at the strands, however, her body was processing too many heavenly sensations at once to think straight—or to care. 

“Rhys. Lucien.”

Breaking his mouth away from her breast, Lucien caught her lips in his own once more, a clash of lips, teeth and tongue. His hand continued working on her breast as he kissed her, her moans muffled against his lips. As quickly as the kiss began, it ended as Lucien broke the kiss, only to murmur, “Come for us, Feyre.”

Feyre obliged—not because she wanted to, but because the powerful tsunami of her orgasm was too intense to be contained any longer, like an unknown creature of the night breaking from its great restraints. 

Rhys and Lucien only stopped their movements when Feyre’s body went limp from exhaustion and pleasure beneath their touches. She gasped for air, reaching out for her boyfriends as she uttered a soft, “Please.” 

Lucien kissed her cheek and pulled her closer to him as Rhys climbed up Feyre’s body, peppering her face with a dozen kisses before planting one final kiss to her lips. She tasted herself on his tongue, the sensation raising a flush to her cheeks. Before Rhys settled at her side, he turned his head to kiss Lucien, and Feyre watched, admiring the sight. 

At last, when they broke apart, Rhys cuddled against Feyre’s body, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of her shoulder. Lucien smirked, “I have to admit, my lovely Feyre, I quite enjoy the taste of you mixed with the taste of Rhysand’s lips.”

Rhys and Feyre let out a laugh as they all pulled one another impossibly closer. Feyre could feel how hard either of her boyfriends were as they cradled her against their bodies, though she knew there would be time for that later. She knew that they didn’t care about themselves at the moment. In their eyes, it was Feyre and Feyre only. With a content sigh, her eyes fluttered shut as the ghost of a smile graced her lips. 

In the morning she would show Rhys and Lucien all the love and pleasure she had to offer. But that would be after hours of just holding them close and never wanting to let go.

Tagged: (let me know if you want to be added!) 

Thank you for the request! I’m always a slut for feyrhycien and it’s a great way to get back into the acotar fandom after so many months. Also, since I haven’t written SJM fics in nearly a year, it might take a bit to get the writing style and characters’ personalities the way I want to write them, but I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1123 words

Feyre always struggled with anxiety. It was an aspect of herself that she had learned to accept over time, while still learning ways to manage it. However, when her therapist told her that outdoor activities such as hiking would be a good outlet for her anxiety, this is not what Feyre had anticipated. 

One moment it was a tranquil day in the fall, the warm sun shining down over the woods Feyre was hiking through, the next it was pouring rain and dark—the sound of thunder and lightning above her. Her soaking body shivered from the cold air and rain, hiding under a tree while trying to contact her loves, Lucien and Rhysand to come to her rescue. However, with just her luck, no cell service was to be found. The logical thing to do in a situation like this would be to simply exit the woods, but that implied knowing the way out—which Feyre did not. 

She groaned, tossing her head back in frustration. 

“Hiking will help your anxiety,” her therapist had said. “It will be relaxing,” she had said. 

Relaxing wasn’t the adjective Feyre would’ve personally chosen for the situation at hand, though it all relied on perspective and one’s definition of relaxing. 

“Shit,” Feyre cursed under her breath, not knowing what else to do. 

She scanned her surroundings, attempting to deduce which direction she had come from, only to find herself impossibly more lost. Feyre shrugged. Either the storm would pass and she’d be able to find her way out, her boyfriends would come find her, or she’d be missing long enough for Rhys to file a missing person’s report, to which the police would eventually find her. 

Like hell she would allow herself to die in these woods. 

What a boring way to go.

—

Half an hour had passed with no indication of the storm stopping anytime soon. Feyre weighed her options; wait for someone to find her or walk until she found her own way out. Having had enough with sitting on the muddy forest floor, her body wet and cold, she decided on the latter. Feyre raised to her feet, her body shivering as she did so, and began to walk down one of the three pathways—silently praying to whatever God or Gods that existed that she had made the right choice. 

Her body felt numb, though she knew it wasn’t cold enough for frostbite, and Feyre hoped her movement would warm her body to some degree. She missed Lucien’s gentle kisses as she played with the long, auburn strands of his hair. She missed Rhys’s tight embrace, the steady beat of his heart beneath his chest. But most of all, she missed them. Their presence, their voices, their laughs. 

It was then, with the faces of her boyfriends in her mind, when Feyre spotted a bright light shining through the trees. Headlights, she realized with a grin. 

She ran—as fast as she could despite her frozen body and mud-covered shoes, dashing in between stray trees along the pathway, and the moment Feyre had made it past the treeline, she was greeted with too large, familiar silhouettes.

“Rhys,” Feyre breathed out. “Lucien.”

They crossed the distance between her, and the moment they were within reach, Feyre threw herself into Rhys’s arms, burying herself into the warmth of his embrace. Only then did her tears fall. Perhaps it was from her pent up anxiety or the happiness that she was finally safe in her lover’s arms again, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was her boys.

Lucien stood behind her, sandwiching her in between his and Rhys’s bodies, as he wrapped a towel around her shoulders. “Are you alright, love? We’ve been terrified for well over an hour.” 

Feyre pulled back from Rhys’s chest, her gaze flickering between the violet and russet eyes she loved so dearly. She nodded. “I just want to go home.”

Rhys raised a hand, cupping her cheek in his palm as he gently angled her face towards his, murmuring, “Of course, Feyre darling,” before wrapping an arm around her and ushered her into the back seat of the car. 

Lucien got into the driver’s seat, either of his lovers in the back snuggled together, as he drove them home. 

—

Feyre laid in Lucien’s arms, suffocated by a dozen blankets tossed over her body. She had long changed out of her sopping wet clothes into one of Lucien’s hoodies and a pair Rhys’s gray sweatpants, the attire warming her body to an extent, though Lucien’s arms seemed to be the most noticeable heat source. Feyre snuggled closer to his chest, humming softly as he traced patterns onto the skin of her back beneath her hoodie.

“My love, perhaps we should check your temperature once again to see if your fever has gone down,” Rhys suggested from the foot of the bed, a large pout on his lips as he held up a thermometer. 

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Rhysand, you checked my temperature a mere five minutes ago, I doubt anything significant has happened in that short of a time. Besides, all I want right now is to be in the arms of my boyfriends.” She emphasized the ‘s’, ensuring that Rhys understood she wanted both him and Lucien and would settle for nothing less. 

Rhysand hesitated, fidgeting with the thermometer in his fingertips. As a last resort, Feyre raised into a sitting position with Lucien’s arms loosely around her waist, reaching her arms out towards Rhys as she wriggled her fingers. Grabby hands, she liked to call them. Also known as Rhysand’s greatest weakness. 

Feyre watched Rhys’s inner battle with himself, deciding whether to cave into the adorable sight of his boyfriend and girlfriend or to fuss over a little fever. He sighed. How was he supposed to say no to those faces?

Grinning widely, Feyre reached out for Rhys as he entered the circle of her arms, planting a kiss to her lips—and a swift kiss to Lucien’s cheek—before settling beside Feyre, an arm and a leg tossed over her body. She pulled either of them impossibly closer, not so much as an inch separating their bodies. 

“I love you,” Feyre declared to no one in particular. 

Lucien caught her lips in a slow, soft kiss, and Rhysand admired the sight, the way the two people he loved most also loved one another to that same extent. Once they broke their kiss, Lucien’s gaze flickered to Rhys’s violet one, then back to Feyre’s crystal blue eyes as he echoed, “I love you.”

Feyre and Lucien turned their attention to Rhys, waiting for him to complete the moment by stating, a large grin upon his lips, “I love you.”

Tagged: (If you want to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!)

Part 1

A/N: i uh actually wrote something…. some of y’all wanted more so i wrote more and there will be EVEN more uh rise my friends cause i’m (tentatively) back and ready to Ship.

——

Tamlin called. Again. And Lucien ignored it. Again. He really would’ve quit this job already if it didn’t pay so well. 

“Was that your boss again?” Feyre asked, hands around her mug. Lucien sighed and nodded. 

Part 1

A/N: i uh actually wrote something…. some of y’all wanted more so i wrote more and there will be EVEN more uh rise my friends cause i’m (tentatively) back and ready to Ship.

——

Tamlin called. Again. And Lucien ignored it. Again. He really would’ve quit this job already if it didn’t pay so well. 

“Was that your boss again?” Feyre asked, hands around her mug. Lucien sighed and nodded.