Soft and Sweet
A!Amren x O!reader x O!Feyre x A!Rhysand
Day 4 of @acotar-omegaverse-week : Knots & Ties - Need we say more?
a/n: something a little more on the fluffy side
warnings: Amren-centred with some Feyre fluff at the end; indirect foursome?; cockwarming (Amren has a cock); knots
word count: 818
~~~~
A sigh releases from your chest as Amren grazes her nails up your spine, taking her time to tease her way up, before dragging back down.
You shiver.
“Are you having some trouble over there, Rhys?” Amren drawls, glancing over your shoulder to where the High Lord and his mate lay sprawled across the bed. “My omega is going to be sore tomorrow if you don’t hurry up.”
A growl rumbles through the alpha’s throat, and you nestle closer to your mate, shying from the aggressive sound.
Amren’s eyes sparkle with amusement, glossy rouge nails prickling beneath your chin to guide your mouth to her own. You shift in her lap, tightening around the knot that’s lodged inside of you, gradually going down. Not that you want it to. If you had it your way she’d be inside of you all night, keeping you bound together, tight and cosy.
A high-pitched moan pushes past Feyre’s lips, and you glance over in time to catch her head falling to the side, legs spread wide for her mate as he continues driving himself into her, his teeth claiming their mark in her neck.
You squeeze Amren tighter, a whimper getting trapped in your throat as you watch them. She huffs, “you took so long my omega is ready for another round, Rhys.”
The High Lord keeps to his pace, running his tongue over the wound in his mate’s neck, pressing a lingering kiss to her mouth before deigning your alpha with a response. “I’m ensuring my mate’s pleasure, Amren,” Rhys drawls, before returning his attention to Feyre, lowering his voice as he leans down to capture her mouth in a short kiss, “I wouldn’t want her to be left dissatisfied now, would I?” A smile plies her lips apart, and you watch as her fingers tangle in his hair, purring contentedly.
Nails sneak into your own hair, and your eyes flutter as she drags them across your scalp, scratching in a way that has you melting on top of her, starting your own purrs. “It won’t be long now,” she murmurs, soft enough the others won’t hear her, “you’ll be relaxing soon. Keeping those muscles of yours from stiffening.”
You hum in response, circling your hips, feeling that delicious rub of her cock against your still-sensitive walls. Amren clicks her tongue in reprimand, taking a firm hold of your waist, drawing a low whimper from your chest.
“You know better,” Amren drawls, sliding the sharp point of her thumbnail across the sensitive skin of your side. “You’ve taken all your orgasms for the night. Behave or you’ll get nothing tomorrow.”
Instantly you ease in her hold, pulling back to look at her, your hands resting on her stomach. She raises a brow, silver eyes glittering, and you dip your head, pressing a small kiss to her mouth.
“Better,” Amren whispers, lips curving to something near affectionate. “Now go and join Feyre. No trouble.”
~~~~
You ease into Feyre’s side, laying your head on her shoulder.
She tilts to glance at you, a faint laugh in her voice as she speaks, “if you’re drowsy you should go over there. It’ll be more comfortable.” You look over to where she’s suggesting—a low seat in the magnificently large bath with a slanting back to recline against, a folded towel at its crest for one to rest their head upon.
“But then I wouldn’t be touching you,” you mumble, stretching your arms around her body, leaning your weight into her. Feyre huffs a laugh, fingers curling over your forearm. “You’re so dramatic,” she mumbles, but you can hear the affection in her voice.
After a beat of silence, you release her, slowly returning to your sitting position within the large bath. “…what do you think they’re talking about?” You murmur, peering into the foamy water, bubbles shimmering beneath the calming pale light. Feyre hums, leaning back against the edge of the bath, “probably scrapping over whose cock is larger.”
“Or whose the better lover,” you add on.
“Whose better at ruling?” Feyre suggests.
“Who can make their omega reach their orgasm the fastest?”
You share a laugh.
You cup a foamy froth of bubbles in your hands, and Feyre sighs. “I don’t like having to clean as soon as we’re done,” she mumbles, drawing your attention. “I want to keep it on me. At least until morning.”
“I know what you mean,” you reply, returning the bubbles to the misty blue bath water. “I like being able to smell her on me. It’s comforting to wake up to.”
A pause of quiet, then, “maybe we should protest next time,” you suggest, attempting to muffle a yawn. It draws another laugh from Feyre, and you return your head to rest on her shoulder. “Maybe we should,” she murmurs, tilting to rest her head atop your own. “Show the alphas who’s really in charge.”
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