#acotar poly fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paperibbon · 7 months ago

Text

ink stained hand (will you hold it?)

chapter i: bookstore girls pairing: poly!feysand x reader series sum. A bookseller’s simple life turns upside down when she becomes fast companions of the Night Court’s Inner Circle. When she develops feelings for the most powerful couple in Prythian, how will she get over the golden thread of fate that pulls them ever so far apart?

The sun was high in the sky, and the sweat stuck to the back of your shirt with a vengeance, plastering the material to you like a second skin. As forgiving and endearing as summer was, children laughing in the streets, people bustling about in sheer, bright colors, the heat could be killer.

Especially waiting in lines like these.

The queue snaked around the block, everyone from fae that lived on farmland outside of Velaris, to shopkeepers, to families of all shapes and sizes. You’d thought the heat might thin it out a bit, maybe send some people to find shelter and shade, to stand in front of an icebox maybe; but alas. It was just as long as it was a few hours ago. You clutched the papers you’d written up months prior to your chest, lifting your hair from your neck in an attempt to elicit some sort of cooling effect.

You, like many, many others were grateful to your High Lord, and newly minted High Lady for these meetings. Even if not everything was fixed, most people walked out with a respect you were sure you couldn’t say other courts held for their rulers. And the papers you’d slaved over, finding just the right words to propose your idea, well, you hoped they’d hear you out, if nothing else.

Smoothing down the front of your skirts, you surveyed the people in front of you. Three bodies. Three people. Three more appointments to suffer in the heat until you were face-to-face with people who could grant your dreams, or crush them kindly in their fists. Your heart stuttered, thick, humid air winding its way through your nose, and out. Two. Then, the curly haired fae with a sour expression on her pale blue face that had stood before you for the past three hours marched into the heavy open doors, and you were twisting your fingers in flighty anticipation. You couldn’t hear her voice, even at your proximity, and it relieved something in you to know that this wouldn’t leave this room. Your sorry request, your whimsical fantasy would stay stuck in the air between your High Lady, High Lord, and you.

The guard positioned at the gate gave you a wry smile, a rosy hue to her cheeks, the sweat slicking her orange hair to her brow. You were sure you looked similar, frazzled and sweaty, sickeningly anxious and delighted all at the same time.

“You’ll be fine.” Her voice was accented lightly, like nothing you’d ever heard before. You grew up here, in the Night Court, barely a child when Amarantha terrorized the land, now, a fully grown female with stars in her eyes.

You nodded your thanks. She simply smiled wider.

When the doors opened again and the fae from before walked out, a wind flirted across your cheeks curling in your hair. A greeting.

“First door on your left. Can’t miss it.” A smooth wink, and the door thumped shut behind you.

The marble tiling was smooth, dark, and flecked with silver. How Night Court. You couldn’t stop your head from swiveling as you traversed the hall, ornate art hung on either side, a show of wealth, of power. You recognized some of the scenes, the High Lady fearlessly facing off against Hybern’s forces at the Rainbow, the Night Court’s general sweeping low onto the battlefield, the Lady’s sister, fearsome, cloaked in silver flames like a phoenix. Your eyes shifted towards the open doorway, thick wooden carvings of an animal you couldn’t place, scales expertly carved, fangs and talons almost as sharp as you’d imagine the creature carried in real life. Absently, your hand curled around a claw jutting from the frame, the stable wood almost warm beneath your fingers.

“Admiring the woodworking?” A soft voice cut through the silence, and you turned, abruptly, eyes wide.

“I’m so sorry.” You stuttered, the words falling out without a thought. The High Lady was standing, a stunning lilac dress tailored to her form, golden and silver stars stitched delicately in sporadic patterns. A golden circlet, plain, yet stately sat at her raised brows, warm sea blue eyes crinkled into a smile. You balked, face pinching into an expression that could only be described as shameful, hands twisting in your old linen skirt, the drab color sticking out like a sore thumb. The High Lord was absent, the chair next to hers empty, but you felt no relief from that. The High Lady was just as imposing.

“Don’t be.” A flick of her wrist towards the chair across from them sent you into action, and you lowered yourself into the plush seat. “Would you like anything to drink or eat? How long have you been out there?”

Her voice seemed too perfect, too hypnotic for your ears. You found yourself blinking, twice, three times before you registered her question.

“I’m okay, truly.” Food would make you barf, so bad move there. From the looks of this place, any glass they’d offer you was likely three times the sum of your rent, and your shaking hands would send it shattering across the floor. “And not long, my lady.”

“Hm.” The sound was low, like the rumble of the ground beneath your feet, and your head felt inclined to dip. The High Lord was just as intimidating as you’d expected; dressed in all black, a matching circlet to his mate’s glinted in the faelight, his hands folded neatly into his pockets. “We don’t take kindly to liars.”

The expression that flickered across your face must have been comically scared, from the way the Lady’s eyes hardened to sheer ice.

“Rhys.” The lovely voice, the bells you would follow to the ends of the earth, possibly, shot out like a crop.

The High Lord leveled you with a look that would have sent males twice your age running for the hills, and you thought about it. You considered hiking your skirts up, tucking your pitiful tail between your legs, and dashing out of here as fast as your legs could carry you. Instead, you smoothed out the papers in your hands, lowered your gaze, and began to read from the page.

“Thank you for your audience.” You began, eyes tracking your scribbling. “I wanted to first extend my gratitude for not only this moment, but the neverending support that you both have shown your people. I thank you for that.” A glance up, and your eyes connected with the starflecked violet gaze of your High Lord. Something in your gut twisted violently at his lowered brow, and your hand passed briefly over where your heart titered in your chest. “I here to ask for something that may be small to you, but is quite big to me.”

The rest of the words bleed together on the page in front of you, and with a sigh, you fold the paper along the edges, and cover the square with your palms. You know what you want, it swirls in your gut, tugs on your heart. It’s hanging from the biggest and brightest star, and this is the only chance you might have to dream for it, to hope that it might, one day, be real, might be a whisper of fruition eddying towards your open arms.

“I’ve dreamed for my whole life that one day, I might make a difference. That someday, something might make me matter to someone.” Your voice teetered on breaking. “My mother and father are long gone. I have no brothers, no sisters. I don’t have many friends to speak of, and I’m sure I speak of them more than they speak of me. What I’m asking for is stupid, but to me, it’s a dream.” A saccharine smile aimed at your twisting hands, before your head pulls back to finally look at the two most powerful people you’ve ever known. “Have you ever had stupid dreams?”

The question hangs in the air like a feather. Your fingers flex, like you might reach out and snatch it back.

“No dream is stupid.” The High Lord’s eyes blink with stars. It’s mesmerizing. It’s terrifying. His gaze doesn’t stray from you, and it spreads a heat across the tip of your nose, peaking your ears.

You pick at the edge of the paper neatly pressed to your thighs, peeling a corner back, folding it on the edge, and ripping along the seam as you swish your thoughts around in your head.

“This one might be.” Your smile is wistful, if not sad, like a flower blowing in the cold wind of winter, the laughter of a grown child.

The scrape of a chair, and your High Lady has inched ever so close to you, her knees almost touching yours, the hazy purple gauze flirting against the skin of her legs as she shifts. It makes your heart beat that much quicker, her beauty, her close proximity, the power you feel rolling off her. You’ve been caught in storms before, but she’s like lightning itself. Soft, strong hands cup yours, and you almost jerk back out of sheer surprise, but the quirk of her lips makes your own soften into a smile.

“It’s okay to wish for silly things.”

Years ago, you might have agreed with her.

Today, you aren’t so sure.

“High Lady, High Lord,” You say, eyes stuck on a freckle at the base of her thumb, tracing the lines of the jet black tattoo that curls up her wrist. “I want to find purpose.”

You could hear a pin drop.

The High Lady’s eyes glazed over, the stormy sea calming to a rolling fog. Daring a glance at the High Lord, you noticed a similar look in his eyes, the purple sky a calming shade of lilac, his eyes unfocused. You didn’t dare breathe, catching a gasp in your chest when they both finally resurfaced, a sharp snap in their gaze like you’d clicked your fingers for their attention. It was odd to have such resounding attention from two people who could crush the world around you with a blink, who could kill you without batting an eye. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, but you weren’t sure if it was terror, or great awe.

“That’s your wish?” The High Lord’s voice is startling all of a sudden, though you know it shouldn’t be. You blink, once, twice, and then nod, a simple strong shake of your head.

“That’s my wish.” You feel pitiful as you shrug your shoulders, but the High Lady squeezes your hands in hers. “I understand if you can’t grant it, I do. I greatly understand. In fact, I know you probably won’t be able to. And that’s alright with me. I’m just glad you’ve listened.”�� It’s lighter than the rest of your conversation, the almost laughing tone your voice takes on. You pull back from the hands on top of yours, nodding gratefully. You hope you look sincere as you lower your head in a makeshift bow. “Thank you for that. For your hearts.”

You stood, not waiting for dismissal, which might have been a stupid decision. It might have cost you more than just pure embarrassment, the flush taking on a different, less welcome heat as it cloaked your shoulders and pressed into your chest. You did a poor curtsy, out of nothing more than a sorry excuse for respect to the two, and fled the room without a glance in either direction, even as something molten, something tight in your chest tugged away at you.

You didn’t even realize in your haste, the paper you’d meticulously, ever-so-carefully tended to for the last months had toppled to the floor, scrawled with sprawling words.

Your wish.

The sun was still hot and high in the sky as you slunk into the shop, and the book you were using as a fan was doing nothing to combat the heat. Leaned against the entryway, holding the hair off the back of your neck and rapidly flapping the flimsy romance novel in your hand in hopes that even the smallest breeze would cool you down. The magic that typically kept the shop well ventilated was on the fritz, sending wayward gusts of air that ruffled through the pages on hand before stopping altogether, levitating teacups and coffee mugs in the air before dropping them and sending any liquid spilling onto the floor, opening and closing the curtains at will.

“Hi, lovely!” The seamstress across the way waved at you with a lacy handkerchief, brown hair piled high on her head, a sheen of sweat dotted across her brow and smearing the silvery make-up she’d carefully used to decorate her eyes.

“Hi, Dia.” You raised the book in greeting, letting your hair drop from your hand. She sent you a smile in greeting before escaping inside her shop, the wooden sign in her window swinging proudly from CLOSED to OPEN.

With a great sigh, you tipped your head back and listened to the busy street with shut eyes. Children squealed on the street, couples tittered back and forth. Some called your name in greeting, and you waved lazily, eyes still shut, lulled into a sense of hazy drowsiness. Your flushed cheek pressed into the door sleepily, until a wet, cold object was shoved under your collar.

Eyes flying open, the book fell to the floor, hands flinging to the back of your shirt, hopping from one foot to the next. Finally, the ice cube dropped from your dress to the floor, and you whirled on the culprit.

“Sammy!” The accused giggled, eyes slit in amused mischief. “You pest!”

Sammy was the delivery boy, and the bane of your existence. He was a child, only seventeen, with a boyish roundness to his cheeks and an inane personality that would make the sweetest person in Prythian think about bashing him on the head once or twice. It was his mission to make every day you lived harder than the last, but his mother, the owner of the neighboring bakery, thought it was because he fancied you a tad. You couldn’t tell if she was having a laugh, or had too much faith in her only child. You were much too old for him anyways.

“Who said I even did anything?” His blue lips pulled into a pout, his ears flicked and his red eyes widened like that of a street dog. “Mean, mean girl.”

Setting your jaw and bending down to swipe the book from the floor and make your way into the shop, you shot him a mean glare, something to make flowers wither, and little boys cry. He was standing by the back door, a sure sign that a shipment was docked, tightening the string on the front of his sleeveless tunic. Sliding behind the counter, leaving the book on the top, you moved around him to peer at what he’d delivered.

It was a small box, unusual, but not uncommon, with a dainty golden lock holding it shut. You tilted your head around the boy, trying to get a better look at the thing. It was probably a special edition for one of our wealthier clients, but you hadn’t seen any sort of order like that go through in months, hadn’t heard a whisper of what this could even be. Without thinking, you started towards it out of sheer curiosity, but Sammy stepped in front of it with a sharp toothed grin and held his hand out.

“Payment first, please.”

You rolled your eyes so hard, the planet did another spin.

“Greedy.”

Shouldering around him, you made your way to the lockbox and shook out a few gold pieces. His palm was cold and damp when you passed them over to him, and with a smirk like an alley cat, he disappeared down the alley and left you with the mysterious package.

The box was ornate and wooden, the lock glinting on the outside with the winking of the sun through the windows. Approaching it with cautious curiosity, you reached out and grasped the lock, feeling its cool metal under my fingertips. Giving it a good tug, your feet slid out from under you, sending you sprawling to the floor in an instant; the box was heavy - like it was filled with a million rocks, ten ton weights, and a heavy book. Stretching your leg out towards the thing, you nudged it with the tip of your toe, hoping for some kind of movement but, alas - nothing. Abandoning caution, your leg reeled back and kicked the thing as hard as you could, only to be met with searing pain that reverberated through the bones of your shin. With a resigned huff, you stood, brushing off dust from your skirt, and left it behind the counter with another, less fierce, more defiant kick for good measure.

Stupid thing.

The box seemed to respond, the smallest of noises —the faint shuffle of the lock settling into place. It wasn't laughter, of course, but in that moment, it might as well have been.

The day was sluggish and hot into the afternoon. Little to no customers stopped in, and Elias, the owner of the store, had left me alone for the morning. You did your duties; swept the aisles aimlessly, fronted all the books in the history section, wiped the counters at the tea stand. You even ventured to organize the pillows and blankets in the reading section, which was a loathsome task due to the sheer number of them littered about. Finally, when the sun was high in the sky with no promise of a cloud, Reana, the only other worker at the shop, slunk into the shop.

Her inky hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and the clothes she wore were thin and airy, a short cream top with no straps, and a loose matching skirt that showed off a fair bit of her long legs. Her tanned skin was flushed with the heat, and her glasses sat low on her nose, the chain that held them along her neck softly clinking against itself.

“I am sweating through every layer of clothing.” Her voice was scratchy, like smoke on a foggy day.

“Elias needs to re-up these stupid wards before I try myself.” Crossing the room from the little nook you’d been tidying up, you offered her a smile as a greeting.

“Oh, don’t do that to us.” She snorted. With a flick of her hand, the tea stand bustled to life. “The last time you tried, it set us back decades.”

She was exaggerating, of course. The last time you’d tried to enforce the feeble wards on the store, it’d knocked every book out of the shelves and broken almost every mug and cup in sight. Your magic was not strong, it wasn’t practiced, and it sure as the Mother wasn’t controlled.

“Can you make some cold drinks? Maybe?” You plopped yourself down on a rickety red stool, chipped and discolored from use. “Milk tea would be lovely.”

Reana works the tea and coffee portion of the shop. While you could make an adequate cup, she was versed in fancy drinks and conversation; two things you did not have the skillset for. Her head dipped as she moved towards the counter, working meticulously to pull together the things she needed. Each movement was a choreographed dance, as she deftly poured and mixed, her fingers moving with the precision of a seamstress. The glasses sitting on her nose fogged up as she leaned down to sniff the spiced pot of tea on her small stove. She set the milky drink in front of you, the icey glass heavenly against my hands as you sipped at it casually, lolling my head back and forth as you drank. As the both of you sat in silence, the ambient sounds of the bustling street outside drifted in through the open window, mingling with the soft clink of ice cubes in our glasses.

Gratefully, she doesn’t ask about the meeting you had today. Gratefully, she keeps her eyes trained on her tasks. Gratefully, you don’t have to explain anything to her.

Until…

Until the bell on the front door rings, and in steps the High Lord, the paper you’d apparently forgotten pinched between his thumb and his forefinger, the smile of a jester playing across his lips.

“Hello,” Voice like smooth, rich coffee colors the air. “I believe you’ve forgotten something.”

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #feysand x reader #poly!feysand #theis writes!#ahaha after ten million bajillion years. and is it even good? IDK! have it!

584 notes · View notes

surielstea · 7 months ago

Text

Heated Traditions

Pairing: Bat Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader joins the three males in the sauna during solstice and things get more heated than just the steam.

4.2k words

Winter solstice had come upon Velaris like a cold gust of wind, bringing powdery snow and the hectic holidays.

When I woke up to my mate's side of the bed being empty I knew exactly where he was, out in the cold, playing with snowballs like a child with the rest of his brothers.

I, however, hadn't been expecting the small wrapped box that was perched on his untouched pillow.

I sit up excitedly, running my hands through my nest of hair a few times before picking up the box and tearing it like a toddler on her birthday.

I come across a black velvet box, a note taped to the top of it and I smile as I recognize the neat handwriting.

I'm sorry I couldn't be with you this morning but I promise to make up for it later, here's your first gift of many, happy solstice darling.

- the most handsome High Lord

I giggle at the obnoxious title he gave himself and set the note down, then crack open the top of the jewelry box, revealing a stunning violet gem connected to a silver chain that glinted beneath the morning light. I smile, running my fingers along the chain that moves like liquid. The color of the gem reminded me so substantially of Rhysand's eyes, the familiar violet I saw every night before I went to bed and every morning when I awoke, except this morning, this morning when he gifted me the ability to feel seen by him at all times.

I can't contain my grin as I fasten the necklace around my throat, wishing he was here to help as I struggle with the clasp, but eventually, I get it, and it seems even more beautiful on.

I build my outfit around the necklace, putting on a floor-length gown of lilac silk, adorned by silver rings and a sterling bracelet to match the chain.

I do a light makeup look and fix my tangled hair into a simple style, leaving the now-tamed locks going down my back.

I exit my bedroom, toying with the jewel on my necklace as I do so, walking out into the hallway before entering the kitchen where Morrigan resided, sipping a steaming cup of cocoa. "Morning," I smile softly and she returns it, silently offering me a cup of the seasonal beverage.

"It's too early to look as good as you do," She claims after a moment of silently sipping our drinks. I shrug with a smile.

"Nonsense, I just always look good," I toss her a wink and she shakes her head with an amused grin. "When did they leave?" I ask, walking over to one of the many windows in the large house, peering out at the powdery snow and the white-capped mountains.

"Hours ago, they should be back soon," She joins me at the window, staring into the abyss of blinding white that took over the entire landscape. The two of us had been so caught up staring at the outside we hadn't even noticed the door open, and hadn't realized who walked in either.

"What are we looking at?" A familiar cold voice chimes from behind me and I jump, whirling around to face Amren who had a large bag filled with what seemed to be presents.

"Gods, you scared me," Mor presses a hand to her chest and I nod.

"Likewise," I mumble but the eldest of us just flashes a smile.

"It's my craft," She shrugs with a grin that wasn't entirely fae.

"We were just looking for the boys," Morrigan says, glancing at the window once more.

"You think you'll be able to see them?" Amren scoffs, moving past me and unlocking the sliding window before pushing it open.

We wait a moment in silence then suddenly, lo and behold, Cassian's raucous laughter from the distance cuts through it. A smile spreads over my lips at the familiar sound but it's quickly wiped away as a frigid breeze gusts in, causing the three of us to huddle closer to the fire on the other side of the room. My entire body trembles against the below-freezing weather.

The low temperature sends a shiver down my spine, resulting in an overwhelming cold sensation that overstayed its welcome. I found that even minutes after the window had been pushed shut again I had still been caught shivering.

"I think I'm going to take a hot bath, I'll see you guys for presents," I say with a soft smile, and the both of them nod, waving me off as I back away from the window and pad back to my bedroom to run the bath.

I make sure the water is steaming before I plug the drain and allow the tub to fill up, I was still cold, and taking off my clothes before I was ready to get in turned out to be a horrid idea.

"If you're so desperate for warmth you could join me in the sauna," my mate hums in the back of my mind and I startle slightly, forgetting he had the ability to see through my own eyes.

"Were you looking while I was staring in the mirror?"

"Would you think anything less of me if I was?" He hums and I roll my eyes, sending the message through the bond.

"That's not an answer, and no, it's expected of you by now," I retort, crossing my arms to provide some sort of body warmth while the tub slowly fills.

"Come join us, I won the snowball fight and I wish to celebrate," He claims and I scoff, sending my displeasure to his side of the bridge between us.

"Keep it in your pants." I toss back.

"I'm afraid we don't wear pants in the birchin." He reminds and I freeze, remembering the fact that all three of those tanned, muscular males are all sitting in that cedar-lined shed naked, but most importantly, sweaty. Gods it would feel so damned good to feel that warmth at the moment.

"Darling," He drawls, pulling me back to reality and away from my enticing daydreaming.

"I thought mates were supposed to be territorial," I state, holding my ground despite the slight waver in my voice.

"I've shared before, and you never seemed entirely opposed to my brothers either," He argues as if I was to blame for his fantasies. And perhaps I was because it would be a lie if I said I hadn't thought about all three of them at once, more than once.

"I can feel your arousal, just join us we won't bite," My mate continues. "Unless you want us to," He adds and I couldn't find it in myself to deny that kind of pleasure any longer. So I grabbed my robe and tied it tightly around myself.

"Atta girl," He muses and I slam my walls up, blocking his annoying triumph out as I make my way towards the Sauna connected to the side of the house.

I had to fight back the thoughts telling me not to do this while approaching the door, but Rhys was pacing back and forth on the edge of my mind, reminding me he was waiting with just his presence.

Before I can psych myself out, I unlatch the door to the birchin and slide it open, unleashing a gust of boiling mist. But once it clears I'm met with three tan, winged males looking up at me expectantly, entirely naked.

I attempt to avert my eyes as I step into the steaming room, looking at Rhys only as I slowly untie my robe and let it dip off my shoulders. They've all seen a female's body before, this was no different. I let my robe fall to the floor but I didn't dare bend over to pick it up, their gazes were already predatory the last thing I wanted was to tempt them. I settle onto the bench right beside Rhys, facing Cassian and Azriel.

"You still cold?" My mate hums and I look up at him, silently shaking my head. A feline smile stretches over his features. He doesn't say anything else, only tilts his head back and shuts his eyes, letting the hot steam absorb him.

I look at the log-built structure of the bathhouse, the walls compacting me in here with sweating, Illyrian warriors. I tried and keep my gaze away from the two males in front of me but the task was torture and I was weak. I hadn't realized I was staring at Azriel's rippling abdomen until he shifted his hips and my head snapped away. And I definitely didn't notice when I was staring at Cassian's arms until he cleared his throat and I opted to just look at the floor.

Rhys chuckles, and even though he was looking up at the ceiling I knew he could feel both my embarrassment and my arousal.

He slings an arm around my shoulders and the touch almost burned with how damned hot it was in this room. Or had I been imagining it? Was it me who was flushed or had it been the steam?

"You have a staring problem, darling," my mate purrs, and the smile of his two other brothers grows.

"Sorry," I frown.

"Don't be," Cassian speaks up and Azriel silently smirks.

"Is it too hot in here? We could always go back to the bedroom and cool off?" Rhys suggests, pecking up the side of my jaw. I blush at the idea of our bedroom, it was so innocent yet my mind could only morph into something inappropriate.

"No, I'm okay," I shrug him off and he pecks my cheek.

"Just let me know if you change your mind, alright?" He says, and I translate it in my head that he was giving me an escape if I needed one, between the three of them he was telling me to leave before it's too late. But gods, why would I ever take myself away from this?

I only nodded, then returned to my unsolicited staring. My eyes widen a fraction when I notice Cassian was semi-hard, his heavy cock slowly rising as his eyes run up and down my nude figure and I swallow thickly, attempting not to stare for too long at his angry tip, or the vein pulsing underneath, and perhaps it was sick of me to want to run my tongue up that very vein.

Azriel's wings ruffle and it steals my attention from Cassian straight to him. He was in the same boat as Cassian, a bead of precum pearled at the head of his cock, he was much longer than the other two males I sat with, and I wanted to know just how deep he could reach inside my throbbing cunt, wanted to feel him release in my very womb.

"Darling." Rhys's voice in my head makes me jolt, earning a few concerned glances from the others. "Do you want to tell them what you've been thinking or should I?" He hums aloud and I look up at him with concern, my brows scrunched as I shake my head in panic. "You want me to?" He suggests and again, more fervently this time, I shake my head. "Then go on, tell them," He nods encouragingly and I tear my eyes from his violet ones, looking to hazel instead.

"I," My words get stuck in my throat, I couldn't even think anymore without it being utterly lewd.

"Tell them what you want to do to them, what you want them to do to you," Rhys croons, tilting his head back and delighting in the shameful torture he was putting me through.

"I want," I'm left breathless, words come up short and I can barely conjure thoughts against their carnivorous stares.

"Spit it out sweetheart," Cassian adjusts his hips and my eyes dip down to his now fully hard member, thick between his thighs. My nails dug into the bench that I was gripping so hard I thought it might snap.

"I want to wrap my mouth around your cock," I confess and if he wasn't hard before he certainly was now, his tip angry and pulsing red.

"And, Az I want you inside me," I murmur.

"Where?" Rhys cut in.

"My cunt, please I need all three of you inside me," I beg, my body glistening with sweat as they all stare at me with equally starving expressions.

"Is that right?" Azriel finally speaks and something inside me snaps, I don't feel shame anymore, only a relentless need for all three of them.

"Mhm," I nod, biting at my lower lip anxiously at the idea of them denying me and leaving me humiliated.

"Let's give her what she wants," Rhys tips his head down to look at me.

"She's been so patient, haven't you my good girl?" He asks and I blink up at him with a nod, agreeing to whatever he wants me to.

Cassian and Azriel both stand and my head whips towards them, their hardened cocks pressed against their abdomens as they approach closer. I'm wobbly as Rhys helps me stand, before he comes behind me, trapping me in a circle of all three of them. Their frames towered over me and their dark, large wings created a shield around me so any which way I turned I was met with one of their bodies.

"Who do you want in control?" Rhys tilts his head and I look between all three of them before returning to my mate.

"You," I press a hand to his abdomen.

"Yeah?" He arches his brow a fraction and I nod.

"Then why don't you go let Az stretch you out, just how you wanted hm?" He offers and I nod. Shadows twist around my limbs as Azriel's scarred hands meet my hips, guiding me closer as he sits on the bench, his legs spread as I straddle him and the others watch.

My cunt was pulsing with need as his hands travel anywhere they can reach, spending a particular amount of time at my breasts. I look back to Rhys, spotting the two others as they simply watch, their hands fisting their own cocks. My mate nods and I align myself before slowly, so slowly, sinking down onto him.

Azriel groans, tossing his head back in ecstasy as I make my way further down his impressive length. He pinches my nipples and I mewl at the intense feeling. It was so fucking hot in this room and something told me it wasn't because of the steam. I dip further down, clenching around him as my nails dig into his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," He praises and I cry, he was pressing hard into that perfect bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.

"Hurts," I choke out and a sadistic smile spreads across Azriel's face.

"Yeah? Am I too big for your tight little pussy?" He purrs and I nod, my bottom lip pouting out. He grips my breasts in his large hands, groping them as I squirm, loving the way I forced myself further down onto him even though it was painful, all because the pleasure outweighed everything else.

I marveled at how there could still be more of him, my cunt was being stretched beyond capacity and he loved every second of it. My moans filled the room, Azriel's grunts joining in with every roll of my hips.

Eventually, he couldn't take my slow pace and thrust up into me, all of him sheathing inside me like I was a mold for him and him alone. He turned me into a cock sleeve as he began to pummel into me and I was left wailing into the side of his neck, unable to form words as he fucked me senseless.

"Fuck," He curses, tilting his head back as I swallow him in my pussy, dripping onto him.

"More," I whimper. "Want Cass," My words were so weak that it was a wonder how the others heard me over the lewd slapping sounds of skin between me and Azriel as he drove his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust.

Azriel shifts to the side as Cassian approaches, allowing me to look at the tall male, his cock directly in line with my mouth in my seated position.

"Suck him off, baby," Azriel grunts out, his words lustful as he watches my hesitant kitten licks down the length of Cassian's girth. I flitted my gaze up to his as I get to the base of him, then run the flat of my tongue up the protruding vein of his cock all the way to the tip, just like I wanted. He groaned at the feeling as I began to swirl my tongue around his slit, slowly forming my mouth around the head of his thick cock. Azriel continued to pummel into me so much that it was hard to focus on just Cass. I began to moan on his cock, forcing myself to take him deeper into my mouth, sloppily swirling my tongue around his member.

"Don't be shy, fuck her mouth," Rhys instructs. Cassian looks down at me with raised brows and I nod, whimpering on his dick as he grabs the back of my hair then pushes all of his length halfway down my throat. I fight back a gag and instead suck on him harder, hollowing my cheeks as my mate's best friends fuck me simultaneously, leaving me drooling from both holes.

My slobber is used as a lubricant for Cassian's cock, allowing him to easily take himself in and out from between my swollen lips.

"Gods, you're so pretty choking on my cock," He hums and I can't help but moan, sending vibrations up his spine. He groans at the feeling, his head tilting back, looking up at the ceiling as his heavy cock twitches against the soft walls of my throat.

"I want you too," I beg Rhys through our mental connection. "Please." My whines are met with his compliance, silently coming behind me. I arched up, originally for his entrance only but Azriel was now hitting so much deeper at the slight change of position.

"You sure about this baby?" Rhys asks from behind me, his large hands kneading the fat of my thighs in his hands and I nod.

"Mhm," I gargle against Cassian's cock, and the male hums with pleasure, while Rhys presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, he then runs his fingers through my neglected folds, gathering my arousal before smearing it against his length, using it as a natural lubricant until he was covered in my slick from base to tip.

He prodded at my third entrance and I gasped out, unsure if I really could take all three of them at once, I've dreamed of this situation a multitude of times but this was somehow reality and I doubted I could fit all of them.

Rhys pushed into me anyway. I moan loudly around Cassian, my mouth clamping down onto his base and he grunts, tossing his head back. Rhys felt so damned big, continuing to push into me deeper and deeper. It felt euphoric the way Azriel and Rhys brushed up against each other inside of me through my gummy walls, pushing against them beyond capacity.

Azriel's hands tweaked my nipples, bringing me back to him and how good he made me feel, but it wasn't long until it was Cassian who had my attention, gripping the base of my hair and pulling at it whenever I sucked him too hard. But Rhys stole it quickly, his member finally sheathed entirely inside of me, leaving me helpless between all three of them.

Cassian twitched inside of my mouth and I knew he was close so I focused as best I could on him, hollowing my mouth around him and sucking hard. He looked down at me in a haze of lust, his hand on my hair loosening as he spurt his seed down my throat without any warning. I swallow, my throat squeezing around him as I do so. He begins to slowly pull out but before he can get away fully I suck eagerly at his tip, milking every last drop from him, reveling in how good it tasted beneath my tongue.

He smiled lazily down at me, seeing how just much I delighted in drinking him for all he's worth. I was drunk on his seed, warm and salty and so fucking delectable. I swirl my tongue around his overstimulated tip once more before pulling away fully, letting my attention fall to Azriel beneath me and allowing Cassian to clean himself up.

The shadow singer is strategic. He knew where every perfect spot inside of me was, and he tortured the areas like one of his victims. He didn't slow for a moment, he only went faster. He had me wrapped around him first and I had a feeling he'd get me last.

I panted, falling down onto his chest, my elbows giving out. Rhys gripped my hips and held me up in an impressive arch, my back forming a crescent moon as they both continued to pump into me and I laid there like an overworked doll, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies.

I don't know how many times I had came at this point, they were both so damned good it felt like the orgasm was a never-ending flow of euphoric bliss. "Gods," I mewled. "S'too much," My pleads didn't seem to reach their ears, they were too busy listening to the noises my cunt made as Azriel pressed into me.

"Shh, you're doing so well for them," Cassian kissed the top of my head, reaching down with a large hand and immediately finding my clit. I gasped, clenching tightly around both of them, to which they both twitched inside of me, the movement foreign yet so pleasurable. Cassian began rubbing my clit in tight, rough circles with his calloused fingertips, adding so much more friction.

"Cass, tell them I can't," I look up at him with teary eyes and pouted lips.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but this is what you wanted hm?" He kisses down the side of my face. "You wanted all of our come stuffed inside you, isn't that right?" He smiled. "Our perfect cum slut.”

I nod, my nails scratching down Azriel's chest as he rolls his hips up at a certain angle. None of them relent from their movements and I was overflowing with pleasure, my legs jolting as I writhed between them.

"Rhys," I moaned, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.

"I'm close, don't worry baby," He whispered and I nodded, a breath of relief escaping me. My hand reached up and cups Azriel's jaw, leaning down and placing my lips onto his.

He twitches at the action so I continue. I slip my tongue between his sensual lips, brushing it against any expanse I could reach, loving the way he met each flick of my tongue with a stroke of his cock running through my cunt. "Mph— are you close?" I lift slightly, looking at Azriel and he looks up at me in a haze, nodding his head. "Fill me up, please Azriel I've always wanted your cum inside of me," I purr into the shell of his ear.

"Me too," He sighs out, clawing at my waist. "Ever since I saw you I've wanted to put my seed inside of you," He confesses and I smile, delighting in how much harder this was all making Rhys which he pushed deeper and deeper into my ass.

"Yeah? Do you want to put a baby in me? Breed me?" I softly suggest and Rhys groans from behind me, my filthy words spurring him into an orgasm.

"Fuck, yes," Azriel grunts, shifting his hips and beginning to press his tip into my cervix. I cry out at the sudden change of pace, my eyes welling with tears again. Rhys' warm release pumps into me as I squeeze tightly around him, milking him of it as he slowly pulls out and Azriel goes utterly feral, bouncing me on his cock with his tough thrusts, eager to put a baby in me.

"You're going to look so pretty with your tits leaking milk," He hums. "Can't wait to get your belly all round," He adds and I let out a lewd moan at his words and how much truth they held.

"Please, feels so good," I sigh, rubbing up and down him.

"Yeah? Can't wait until I can fuck another one into you, give you a big family hm?" He suggests and I nod dumbly. "Maybe we'll all get a turn with you until you're left with all our kids," He grins at the idea. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He says as I kiss up his jaw, reveling in how fucking good it felt every time he pressed into my cervix.

"That's right, 'cause you're just our bunny who loves to be bred," He hums, cock twitching inside of me as my cunt twitches at his words.

"Yes, fill me, wanna be your bunny," I murmur onto his hot skin and he obliges with my request, his release spurting up into my womb.

I clenched tightly around him at the feeling of his warm seed continued to pump into me with his thrusts that began to slow until coming to a stop and pulling me off of him, leaving me with hot cum drooling out of each of my holes, just how I wanted.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @mahealanipunea @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @andreperez11 @whatsupbi8 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

914 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 3 months ago

Text

against the contract series masterlist

poly!feysandriel x reader

summary: If they were genuinely bad people, it would be so much easier to kill them. Signing a special contract to work with Azriel, Feyre, and Rhysand turns out nowhere near expected. You were a bit of fun that became their solace and escape, they were supposed to be an easy assignment that turned into your living nightmare.

series warnings: bondage, bdsm contract, d/s dynamics, non sexual submission, smut, piercing kink, blood, guided masturbation, nightmares

a/n: the warnings will be updated as we go! individual chapters will have warnings as well, or in case of major spoilers I'll put the warnings here <3 let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

teaser // visual teaser

one // two // three // four // five // six // seven // eight // nine // ten // eleven // twelve // thirteen

read on ao3 here

#feysandriel x reader #poly!feysandriel x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #feyre archeron x reader #acotar fic #acotar smut #acotar x reader

319 notes · View notes

themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months ago

Note

Ok I just saw your Vamp!Rhys brain rot headcanons post and I'm letting you know right now if you do not develop them into full blown chapters for Vamp!Rhys I'll literally sue for emotional damages ok thank you <3

lol I suppose I can make that happen ;)

------------------------------------------------------

Ancient Recipes

The bed is, surprisingly, empty when you awaken, the last rays of evening light filtering in through a crack in the curtains. Your hands brush absently through the cold sheets as if they could tell you where he’d disappeared off to. He’s not usually up this early.

With a yawn, you slide out of bed and yank on one of his discarded shirts, leaving the silky button down open down the middle in a half-hearted attempt at decency before padding off in search of him.

The library and game room is empty, the curtains pulled tight, the air a little stuffy. You can hear Cassian snoring from behind his closed door and a tendril of shadow still guard’s Azriel’s door handle, telling you that he’s not off with either of them this early.

Eventually, you find yourself wandering down into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty too, but figuring it’s worth a shot. You’re surprised to find Rhys bent over the stove, shirtless, sleep pants slung low over his hips as he carefully chops a mix of vegetables. His ears twitch as you walk towards him, a sure sign that he hears your approach.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” he says without turning. You can hear the pout in his voice without seeing the purse of those full lips you love so much.

“Missed you,” you say as you slide your arms around his waist and bury your head between his shoulder blades.

He sets the knife down long enough to run a hand over where yours hold his waist. “I was coming right back.”

You place a kiss against his spine before leaning around him to get a better view of what he’s doing. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“I am a thousand years old, Darling,” he purrs. “That’s a long time to not learn how to prepare a meal.”

There’s an old, hand written book propped up against the stone wall, the swirling script fading under the cruel hands of time in a language long forgotten. The pages are brittle and yellow now, the date written in the corner nearly illegible.

“What are you making?”

Skilled hands throw in diced vegetables and dried herbs into a pot simmering with some sort of red sauce. “Something my mother used to make me,” he says softly. “These are her recipes.”

Your chest tightens. He’d told you about the hunters that had killed his mother and sister not long after that night when those hunters had come for you. He’d, understandably, been on edge since, the encounter bringing up a lot of old memories he hadn’t touched. It’s little surprise that he would try and find some solace here.

“Smells good,” you say.

He twists and pulls you in front of him, so you can watch as he works. “Can’t find all the right ingredients,” he frowns. “Some of these spices have been lost to time. I think these will work instead. Hopefully.”

Rhys dips a wooden spoon into the bubbling liquid and brings it to your lips, “Try this for me?”

You give it a second to cool before taking a taste, the mixture both earthy and spicy, but deliciously warm. “It’s good!”

“Yes, but is it right?” He insists.

You tilt your head up to look at him, brows raised, “How would I know, Rhysand? By the sound of it, most of the things you’re missing were lost to the world before my parents were even born.”

You think if he was capable of it he might have blushed against the mistake. Instead, he kisses the top of your head. “I suppose I could ask Az.” He licks a bit of the mixture, frowning as he goes, before putting the spoon directly back into the pot. Apparently a key ingredient in ancient recipes is a little bit of saliva.

A moment later, the shadowy vampire emerges, summoned for this oh so important errand. Azriel’s dark hair is sleep tousled, shadows swirling lazily around his bare shoulders. Any other morning with the two males looking like this you would have climbed them like a tree, but this morning is apparently for other things, as Rhys nearly flings the spoon in Azriel’s direction.

“What am I missing?” He demands.

Az takes a taste and spits it into the sink. “What did you do?!” He all but shoves the two of you out of the way to reach for the spice rack in the cupboards above your head. “Your mother would have beat you with that spoon.”

“I know!” Rhys huffs. “What did I forget?”

Azriel starts opening old jars of dried herbs and adding them into the pot. “Egg and thyme for one thing, dumbass.”

Rhys grabs the book off the counter and looks more closely at the recipe, keeping one arm around your shoulders to have you close even so. “Oh, yeah I did forget the egg.”

Azriel cracks four of them into the mixture, before throwing in more herbs. “You’re cooking it too high too.”

Rhys brushes his lips over your hair. “Wanted to bring it to you in bed before you woke up.”

You twist and lean up on your toes to give him a proper good morning kiss. “I would have loved it anyway.”

“Human taste buds are disgusting,” Azriel huffs.

You hear Cassian’s footsteps before you see the half-awake vampire stumble into the kitchen. “Are we cooking what I think we are?”

“Not if Rhys has anything to do with it,” Azriel huffs.

“It was for Y/N!” Rhys returns. “I didn’t make enough for everyone.”

“But she’s so good at sharing,” Cassian says with a wink, his sleep thick voice enough to make heat pool between your legs.

Rhys lifts you up and places you on the counter, beside where Azriel still chops more ingredients, so he can kiss you deeper this time. “Mine.”

“Not with your cooking she’s not,” Azriel quips.

Cassian tuts as he comes over to Azriel’s other side and dips a finger into the now simmering pot. Azriel smacks his hand with the back of the wooden spoon and Rhys hisses, fangs glinting in the candlelight.

“How are you supposed to take care of the little human if you can’t even cook her a decent meal?” He brings his fingers to his mouth for a taste, then frowns. “Do neither of you own any peppers at all? What is this, baby food?”

“I added the aleppo, just as the recipe said!” Rhys retorts.

“You definitely didn’t! Your mother never made anything this bland!” Cassian insists.

“I’m following the recipe!”

Azriel snatches the book, scarred hands thumbing quickly through the pages. “I remember it being spicier.”

Rhys frowns. “Maybe we’re thinking of that other recipe she used to make?”

“No that one was for dinner,” Cassian returns. “I definitely remember a spicy breakfast dish. Especially on cold winter mornings.”

“He’s right,” Azriel chimes in, eyes still glued to the pages.

“I mean, our tastes did change when we turned, maybe we’re the problem?” Cassian asks, running a hand over his face in thought.

“Your tastes change when you turn?” You ask.

“A little,” Rhys says with a frown, violet eyes on the dish. “Maybe you’re right, Cass. Did you think it was spicy, Darling?”

“A little,” you reply. “It could use more, I think, but again, I’ve never tried it before so I’m not exactly an expert.”

Cass peers into the pot. “It looks right.”

Azriel sets the book back on the counter with nothing short of reverence. “Guess it is us.”

Rhys’s face falls, it’s like watching him lose a piece of the past. You take his face in your hands and kiss the tip of his nose. “I think any mother would be proud to know that you loved something so much that you put all this effort into sharing it, whether is tastes the same or not.”

His grin is soft, like the kiss he plants on your lips, taking his time to pull out of it.

“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me,” you say.

Azriel scoops it up into four small portions, the wooden dishes old and reminiscent of a time long passed. Not the formal dining ware they bring out at parties, but a little piece of home that managed to survive the passage of time.

It’s delicious, Az had been right about needing the egg and thyme, it brings a more rounded flavor to the dish. But it would have been equally fine if Rhys had brought the first attempt to you in bed, simply because he loved you enough to try and make something for you even when he could not fully enjoy it himself. It tastes all the better because it’s something the four of you can share, can make new memories out of. You certainly will not forget it, not even in the coming change of your mortality.

“Well now you’ve got me curious for what other ancient recipes you’ve been hiding,” you say as the meal comes to a close.

“You make us sound like we’re old as dirt,” Cassian huffs.

You wink up at Rhys as he kisses your temple. “A thousand years is a long time. What else can you make for me?”

324 notes · View notes

potatoplace · 4 months ago

Text

You Can Have It - Chapter 4

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 3 | chapter 5 | series masterlist

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

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

Words: ~7.4k

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

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was your main goal for the next week.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Picking out your bakeware took you longer than expected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Y/N, it’s perfect!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Noodles it is, then.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

“Go ahead.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would tomorrow night at six work for you?”

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

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

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be nice, Y/N."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, Mother, you are so fucked.

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you know what you wanted, Mor?”

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

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

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

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

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

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

276 notes · View notes

readychilledwine · 6 months ago

Text

Threesome

✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth ✨️

Threesomes fall into a few different play types: domination, voyeurism and exhibitionist, and Zelophilia *jealousy play/competition play* and there is a ton of psychologically behind why couples or even singles looking for new fun may partake in one. Threesomes are so desired in the kink community for a few reasons. Here's a few of the most common:

Polyamory - Some people genuinely do enjoy sexual and non sexual connections with multiple partners, so threesomes are a natural outcome of that mindset and lifestyle. It isn't for everyone, but for those who enjoy having multiple partners, there is nothing more satisfying than getting to express the love and joy you all share in one mess of flesh and sweat.

Sexuality exploration (especially among the bisexual community) - it helps allow you to explore questioning sexuality or known sexuality with multiple genders, two people of the same gender, gender fluid people. It can also help if you have a bisexual partner who misses the touch and feel of the sex they are not currently with.

And rekindling - a threesome is an exciting new experience a lot of people do not commonly get to try due to insecurity, jealousy, lack of foundation and trust in the relationship, but when/if you are lucky enough to get to have one, it's. So. Thrilling. It is a new person you get to show off for, a new performance, a new stimulant. It can help rekindle passion, bring new spark, and in some cases teach new methods and positions you haven't tried before.

Threesomes are not something to just casually throw into your love life, though. Threesomes can destroy a relationship as quickly as they can add to it. You have to make sure you and your partner agree on your third that boundaries are set and understood and that you both feel secure. Otherwise, like we talked about with cucking, this can destroy a relationship fast.

Also, before the ask even comes in. Yes. The answer to your question is yes, because at least one of you is going to secretly wonder and possibly send the anon.

💕Peep the Kink Bingo Masterlist Here💕

✨️ As always, NSFW below cut ✨️

Lucien x Reader x Azriel

Warnings - dom!Lucien, sub!reader, switch!Azriel, oral (m and f), competitiveness, mentions of Tamlain (which has potential as a ship 🤔), technically dp, praise kink, ps this dynamic was hard to write, so I went with my heart, hopefully it isn't disappointing.

“She doesn't even want you!” You sighed, swirling the wine you had been nursing for the past 30 minutes as Lucien and Azriel fought.

It was no wonder Elain had run and fallen straight into Tamlin's arms. The two males before you were constantly at odds with each other, constantly stroking their own egos, fighting like children trying to claim the last piece of candy, and quite frankly, they were irritating.

You sighed as your mate's winged flared in anger at that statement, "And what? Do you think she wants YOU? That's comical, Vanserra. Really." You had thanked the Mother and Cauldron for Azriel daily, you truly had, but something about Lucien had captured your mind, and the male, still upset about his own bond failing due to your mate, had taken advantage of that. That didn't stop you from loving Azriel, though. From wanting him. From wanting both of them.

You two had not planned on falling in love with both, but here you were, married to Lucien due to a drunken night in Adriata and mated to Azriel.

You didn't understand why Elain felt the need to choose and to chase. You could have them both if you wanted, and just to prove that point, you untied the satin robe you were wearing, revealing the lack of clothing underneath. Lucien was the first to notice as Azriel continued ranting. His hand had gone to your thigh instantly, eyes locked on your own as he devoured the sight before him. You reached for his shirt, pulling you to him and settling him on top of you. “You sure?” It took Lucien's husky voice dripping in desire for Azriel's shadows to curl his ears, whispering that you were staring at him, waiting.

“I want you both. Please.” Lucien was more than happy to oblige, placing soft kisses down your body, relishing in every noise as Azriel stared, eyes wide in lust and shock.

Lucien wasted no time, going to where you wanted him most and nipping at your inner thigh as he placed them over his shoulders. Lucien looked up at you, eyes locking on yours as he took his first lick at your core. He smirked with pride as your head fell back, a mix of a moan and sigh leaving your throat. You reached on hand to Azriel, the other tangling into Lucien's hair. Azriel moved to you, breath slightly hitched. He squatted down by you, grabbing your throat gently right as Lucien locked your bundle of nerves between his lips, licking and sucking on it.

Azriel held you in place for him, a smirk growing on his face. “Look so pretty like this, baby,” his free hand moved to your breasts, pinching your nipples and groaning as he watched you try to squirm only to be held in place by Lucien. Azriel tutted you softly, “Be good for Lucien, sweetness. Gotta listen and stay where he wants you, or I'll just play with him while you watch.”

Lucien groaned against you, fingers squeezing your thighs as if he enjoyed the thought of that. He looked up at you, one eye whirling to search for any sign of discomfort, the other blown out with lust and need.

Lucien didn't eat you out like a male starved. No, every lick and suck was methodically planned. It served a purpose to send wave after wave of pleasure down nerves begging for more and more. You heard Azriel's clothing coming off, and you felt the room shift as you got closer. “Hurry up and finish her off, Lucien. The quicker we get her onto the bed, the sooner you find out what a gift her mouth is.” You whimpered, drooling at the thought of choking on Lucien. "You want that, don't you, y/n?"

Azriel forced you to nod, laughing at your big eyes and quick submission. Azriel pushed Lucien's head further into your cunt, watching with heated eyes as your head went back further into the pillows, breathing becoming more shallow and rushed. "Gods, she's fucking close. Look at you, Lucien, making our girl so happy. Do you want her to cum for you?” Lucien grabbed your thighs higher, pulling you into him more and moaning at Azriel's hand, tugging and tangling in his red locks. "How lucky am I? Two beautiful submissive little creatures both so eager to please.”

You felt Lucien's smirk, knowing he had just as much of a dominant streak in him. You were just happy to be there. To play the part of this needy creature, especially if it meant drowning in pleasure. Lucien pushed a finger into you, curling it and chuckling as you gasped his name, toes curling. He focused on you and you alone, not even watching as Azriel went down to you whispering in your ear as his scarred hands tweaked and played with your nipples.

You were a mess for them already. Core drenched and begging, clenching around Lucien's single finger tighter and tighter as your moans and cries began louder. Falling over the edge with Lucien was always easy. He didn't make you see stars. He made you see worlds. He made you cry and beg. It was no different with an audience. Lucien forced you over that edge, hands tangling into his hair, screaming his name, and coaxing little noise after noise of over stimulation from you once your high ended. And then jealousy flooded that bond you shared with Azriel.

Azriel lifted you from the couch as Lucien watched, taking you over to your bed and tossing you down with effort. Lucien seemed surprised by the smile that appeared in your face as you got onto your knees, hands roaming Azriel's chest as the male pulled your hair back and forced you into a rough kiss.

You held a hand out to Lucien as he did, a quiet invitation to join you two instead of just watching. Perhaps it was selfish, but you wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel both of them. Lucien came to the bed and started kissing down your neck, warm hands resting on your hips. “So fucking beautiful, baby,” his voice caressed your ear, sending shivers up and down your body.

Azriel pulled apart, hazel eyes filled with lust. His hand went to Lucien's face, and his thumb traced his plush lips. “I believe she thinks the same thing about you.” Azriel ran his hand down to Lucien's throat, squeezing it softly, “Are you going to be a good boy and listen?”

It was then that you giggled, and Lucien smirked, “Are you?” The question sent electricity through the air. It bought a new challenge, a new competition between the two males. You scooted away as Azriel studied Lucien, watching and waiting. “I promise you this is a game I will win,” Lucien raised a brow to Azriel. “Can you handle that?”

For the first time in the many years of friendship you and Azriel shared, you saw him blush, “I-”

“Let us take care of you, Azriel,” the domination in Lucien's tone was so gentle. “When's the last time someone took care of you?” Lucien stood and moved Azriel to sit on the bed. With a quiet authority, he used two fingers to beacon you over to him. “Lovely, I want you to undress him for us.”

“Yes sir,” Your hands went to the clasps around Azriel's wings, undoing them while you kissed the side of his neck. Once the back was able to free his wings, you moved in front of him, hands running over the smooth fabric before pulling the shirt off.

You had to resist the urge to lick every dark bargain tattoo to trace each swirl like you knew Azriel loved. Lucien had given you a task. One you had to focus on. Your hands went to his pants, and he stood to allow you to slide them and his underwear down. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock. It was hard, leaking, ready. Lucien grabbed you by the back of your neck, stopping you from what you desperately wanted to do. “Hands and knees on the bed. You have to be good to earn his cock.”

Azriel watched you obey in silence. Lucien wasn't forcing. He wasn't rough, and he didn't have you screaming and drooling. He just commanded and used gentle touches, and you obeyed. “Do you want to get her ready, or do you want me to?”

“I will,” Azriel ran a hand over your ass and Lucien stopped him before he could spank you.

“Be gentle with our girl. She's been such a good listener. She deserves soft tonight.” Azriel could hardly understand what that meant, what being soft in bed meant. “Submission is a gift. Look at how easily she handed us that present. Doesn't she deserve to be treated well for being such a good girl?”

Azriel felt a wave of something setting in. If he was good, would he get a reward? Would he get to be loved this gently? He ran a finger through your core, making you cry out, and slowly, he pushed it in. You felt your eyes roll as he did, feeling yourself stretching around just his finger.

You had always told Azriel how much you loved his scars, and it took him fingering you 3 times for him to find out why. He began to open you slowly, pressing each movement in the area he knew you loved the most. Lucien leaned down and captured Azriel's mouth in a long overdue kiss.

This is what they needed the whole time. And outlet to their mutual attraction. A place they could safely explore each other. Lucien began to stroke Azriel's cock as Azriel added another finger inside of you. Your moans and cried were background music to them as Lucien pulled his mouth away. “Do you want her pussy or her mouth? I'm more than happy to just watch you fuck her while she sucks me off.”

Azriel hummed, “She's more than capable of handling-”

“She wants one of us in her mouth. We've had enough sex at this point while you've been enjoying the pleasure houses that I know her. If she was in the mood for anal, she'd be very vocal about it.”

Azriel's fingers pressed hard into your gspot, making you scream his name. “Please. I need more. I need-”

“Don't beg,” Azriel growled at you. Lucien glared as you whimpered in submission. “I also know her. Look at how wet and ready she is. She could handle it.”

“It's not a question of can or can't, Az. It's if she wants to. Y/n, what do you want?”

Azriel felt your core Tighten around him, pleased Lucien cared about your wants and needs. “Not anal,” Lucien motioned towards you after your answer.

“If you let me pick, I'm taking her mouth,” Lucien said plainly.

Azriel huffed and nodded, “I've never been this gentle with her.”

“Clearly. She loves it. Look at her.” It was true you did. You were relaxed in a state of complete bliss, moaning as Azriel's fingers touched all the best places. Azriel was memorized by the sight. By you not bending and breaking to his will as a dom, but flowing and thriving under another male's. You listened without question, didn't mouth off to Lucien. This side of you, this pretty girl, he liked her almost as much as he loved his little brat.

He loved the part of you that sassed him, that pushed him, but this, this beautiful offering of whatever they wanted as long as you wanted it as well, it made his heart flutter. Azriel moved behind you as Lucien moved in front of you. Your hand was instantly on the Day Court heir’s cock, stroking him in time with Azriel's fingers. “Whenever you're ready, Az,” Lucien was staring into your eyes as he spoke. “She's ready.”

Azriel took his fingers out, coating himself in your essence before lining up with you. Taking Azriel was always a stretch, and Lucien praised you both all the way through it, “Look at how good you two are. Perfect little pets for me, aren't you?”

Azriel groaned at his words as he began a gentle but deep pace. He hit every spot so perfectly filling you like your body had been made for him. You focused then on Lucien's aching cock, moaning as you licked your way up and took the head into your mouth. Lucien relaxed on his knees, wrapping your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he guided you in time with Azriel.

It did not take long for the pace to get frenzied, for the two males to be focused in bringing you to completion again in order to allow them to chase their own highs.

Each moan around Lucien had his head falling back, and each twitch of your core had Azriel cursing. You could feel heat rising and building. You could feel core lower stomach getting tight in need.

Azriel looked to Lucien and the male smirked and nodded. You screamed as Azriel began pounding into you. His thrusts became rough and deep. He arched your back more allowing him to hit your gspot over and over as he pushed you further onto Lucien's cock.

Lucien smirked down at you, “This is when you look prettiest, you know that? Choking on a cock, stuffed full. You look so pretty when your eyes glaze over and you get desperate. You want to cum, don't you angel?” You could only moan around him in response as Azriel grabbed your arms, leaving you fully at their mercy and forcing your muscles to strain.

The heat in the room grew to a roaring fire as the noise of slick and skin meeting skin rang in the air. You could feel that boil threatening to burst, feel it aching as you were used by the two males you love. This was heaven. It was safety. It was burning passion. A shadow moved to your clit and you lost it. Moan became whines and whimpers.

You could tell Lucien was close. His eyes were screwed shut. His pace in your mouth was sloppy. Between your tongue, the vibrations of your pleasure, and newness of the 3 of you together, you could feel him twitching, feel him ready to release.

He held you to him as he came, and Azriel continued pounding. You swallowed every drop of him greedily and whined as he pulled out. “She's so close,” Lucien forced you to look at Azriel.

Your mate smirked before planting one foot on the bed and his pace became impossibly faster. Both males laughed as your eyes rolled in pleasure and your jaw fell open. Azriel groaned loudly as you tightened around him, “That's our good girl. Cum for us. Finish on my cock.”

With a flick of a shadow and one well aimed thrust you fell apart, screaming as you tumbled from that edge. Azriel immediately lost himself in the feel of you pulsing around him and found his release moments later, listening as Lucien praised you and talked you through your high, guiding you back to them.

You collapsed into Lucien's lap and Azriel into your back. The room was filled with the sounds of labored breathing. Azriel gently pulled out of you and Lucien took the towel the house summoned to clean you all off.

You had never been more thankful for a large bed in your life as the three of you laid there processing what had happened. “This is happening again,” you declared firmly. Lucien just nodded, and Azriel agreed softly.

"I've never handed over control," Azriel confessed softly. "I've never done that."

Lucien just smirked at his accomplishment, "Then, with me is a safe place to learn."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

Kink Bingo Taglist:

@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb

@justasillylittlegoofyguy @avajustreads

@littlestw01f @azriels-shadowsinger @acourtofladydeath

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #send anons #acotar #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra acotar #lucien acotar #lucien x reader x azriel #lucien fic #lucien smut #azriel fic #azriel smut #poly acotar fic

346 notes · View notes

tsunami-of-tears · 9 months ago

Text

Subtle

Azriel x Reader, Nesta x Reader, Nessian

Summary: Reader and Nesta have a crush on each other but aren’t sure if they should make a move.

A/N: WHY DO I KEEP MAKING CASSIAN SUCH A SUB?? I’m getting so hyped for poly!+ ACOTAR week!! I have so many drafts on the go rn

Wordcount: 1.2K

Warnings: Female Reader; Mostly fluff; Slightly sexual themes; Mention of cuck!Cassian (he’s so hot for that); Poly! relationship

Sharing their bed was nothing new to Cassian and Nesta, often inviting both males and females to join them.

Cassian didn’t often get jealous, in fact - he quite enjoyed when Nesta would seek out other males. The only rule was that he wanted to watch.

Cassian was willing to give Nesta her privacy when it came to females. He understood that it was a different kind of intimacy. On occasion, Nesta would allow an audience. If Cassian was lucky, he’d be invited to join in.

The couple were getting ready to head out to Rita’s with the rest of the Inner Circle. There was nothing out of the ordinary about tonight, except for Nesta’s growing feelings for their friend, Y/N.

Nesta pauses in front of the mirror, trying to calm her racing mind. Her hair was styled in her signature coronet, and her sleek black dress perfectly hugged her figure.

Cassian walks up behind Nesta, admiring his mate as he slides his arms around her waist and kisses her tenderly on the cheek.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asks, concern lacing his voice.

“I’m nervous about tonight. About seeing Y/N,” She admits.

Cassian gives Nesta a small, reassuring smile, moving his hands to rest on her hips. “I wondered when this was going to come up. I noticed your affection towards her has grown. I just want you to be happy, my love.”

Nesta turns in Cassian’s arms to face him. “I know,” She says. “But I can’t tell if she feels the same. And I have no idea if Az will be okay with it.”

Cassian ponders her statement. “Do you want me to try broaching the topic with him?” He asks.

“I know it’s not your strong suit, but please try and be subtle. I don’t want to ruin things between us.”

“Sweetheart, subtle is my middle name,” Cassian grins widely.

————

At Rita’s, Cassian, Azriel and Rhys are sat at their signature booth with glasses of whiskey in hand. The females are off dancing together; Mor with Feyre, and Nesta with Y/N.

Y/N throws her head back at something Nesta says, her melodic laughter barely heard over the music. The pair hold hands and spin around together, completely ignorant of the people around them.

Cassian watches his mate and her friend with a small smile. He would give anything to make Nesta happy. He takes a big sip of his drink before inclining his head towards Azriel. “Has Y/N ever expressed interest in females before?”

Rhys eyes his brothers, opting to stay quiet and see where this conversation is going. Azriel smirks and arches a brow. “Huh, why do you want to know that?” He asks.

Cassian shrugs, failing at his attempt to seem casual. “I was just wondering,” He says cooly.

“That’s a funny thing to wonder about my mate,” Azriel goads, “I’d ask the same about yours, but we both know the answer to that question.”

Rhys coughs, raising his hand to his mouth to keep his drink from spraying across the table.

Cassian sighs, “You know you’re a prick, right?”

“You can tell Nesta to make her move,” Azriel says with a wink.

————

Y/N extends a hand, bowing to Nesta as a slow ballad starts to play throughout the hall. “Will you join me for this dance, milady?” She asks, each word laced with giggles now that the faewine has taken effect.

Nesta takes her hand, bowing in return. “I would be delighted,” she replies.

They both smile as they hold each other in a close embrace, swaying to the music. At this proximity, Y/N can’t avoid looking into Nesta’s eyes, and she risks a glance down to her lips.

Only for a second, but long enough that Nesta caught it.

Nesta’s lips curl upwards slightly and she tilts her head closer to Y/N’s.

“You don’t have to be shy with me,” Nesta murmurs as her gaze drops to Y/N’s mouth. Rather than quickly averting her eyes, Nesta lingers, taking in the soft curves - wondering how they’ll feel, what they’ll taste like.

Y/N’s heart pounds and the music fades into a dull roar as she stands still in her embrace with Nesta. The moment she’d thought about since the two first met was finally reality.

Their bodies fit together even better than Y/N had dreamed. They move in time, close enough to feel the others’ breath on their face.

Just a little bit more, that’s all it would take to close that gap, and maybe ruin their friendship.

Y/N doesn’t have to decide as Nesta chooses for her. She surges forward, pressing her soft lips to Y/N’s in a sweet kiss.

It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to make Y/N’s blood heat.

They part, breathing unevenly, Y/N bites her lower lip as she looks up into Nesta’s steel-blue eyes. “Do it again,” Y/N pants.

Nesta gently holds Y/N’s cheek as their lips meet again. It’s tender and unhurried, but it’s clear that Nesta is the one in control. Her tongue slips between Y/N’s lips, exploring and claiming her mouth.

They part for air, resting forehead against forehead and continue to sway to the music. They both smile shyly, cheeks flushed pink, not noticing anyone but each other.

They dance for a few more songs together before heading back to their booth for a drink. Azriel wraps his arm around Y/N as she slips into the seat beside him.

Y/N blushes furiously as a rather pleased-looking Nesta takes the seat opposite her, next to Cassian.

Cassian uses the bond to speak to Nesta, ‘That wasn’t exactly subtle.’

Nesta replies with the mental image of her making a vulgar gesture.

————

After calling it a night, Y/N heads home with Azriel, walking hand in hand along the Sidra.

They stop at the end of the Rainbow, admiring the display of colours. Azriel takes Y/N’s other hand and kisses her lovingly. “Did you have fun tonight, my love?” Azriel asks, his lips curled into a soft small.

Y/N grips his hands tighter as she blushes again, and looks down at their feet. She had been harbouring feelings for Nesta from the moment they met. Azriel picked up on them fairly quickly through the bond. Though Y/N did her best to hide them, she couldn’t cover up just how alive the female made her feel.

Azriel gently lifts her chin so their eyes meet. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear before running his thumb over her cheek. “No need to be shy, my love. You already had my blessing. I am happy for you.”

Y/N looks up at her mate with wide eyes, silver tears threatening to spill over the edge. “Are you sure?” She asks.

“Of course,” Azriel kisses her softly, “If Nesta brings you more happiness, how can I deny you that? And besides, this” —he points at her chest, over her heart— “has so much love in it. There’s not any less for me if you give some to Nesta as well.”

Y/N wraps her arms tightly around Azriel, inhaling the scent of him, feeling the firmness of his body in her arms. “I love you so much.” She murmurs into the crook of his neck.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Azriel says, kissing the top of her head.

#poly!acotar #acotar #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar oneshot #acomaf #azriel x reader #nesta x reader #nessriel #nessriel x reader #poly!acotar x reader #nesta x you #nesta x y/n

325 notes · View notes

the-daydreaming-show · 3 months ago

Text

Fic Idea/Sneak Peek;

You were the daughter of a poor mortal couple, children of poor mortals whose ancestors had been lost to history. At twelve, you found a stressed and hungry Feyre Archeron in the woods while hunting (or trying to), and the two of you became companions in the treacherous woods while hunting, becoming friends (and the center of each other's worlds). Until you were fifteen, when your mother gave birth to a son, after years of her husband asking for it. But the birth was complicated; mother and baby were left weak, and you and your younger sister, Rue, became a liability, for you were not sons. You both disappeared one night without a trace, and no one, but Feyre, ever asked for an explanation of your fate. Even when that long-awaited son died before he turned three, Feyre never stopped asking and missing. Not until she herself disappeared, dragged by a beast into the woods, and the rest was history.

Years later, as Prythian let the dust settle after the war with Hybern. And while the Night Court still rejoiced at the birth of their High Lord and High Lady's first child, a message flew to immortal lands across the world:

From this day, one will be, and only one, the queen of the mortal lads of the world.

Does who bent the knee to you, would keep their land and titles. Those who took arms against you and your dragons would be thrown down, humble and destroyed.

With the threat of mortal queens and the need to fulfill a promise now meaningless, you agree to visit the Night Court to reunite with Feyre. You meet her family, the new and the old, and discuss a possible alliance in the future (and inevitable) wars that will come with the absence of the wall. You know how it will end, but you go anyway. Perhaps one last look at what could have been before meeting those eyes across a battlefield would close a part of your heart that you needed to keep quiet to fulfill your goal.

Little did you know, fate and the Mother had different plans for a relationship you already thought was dead and lost. It turns out it just needed to be completed.

NOTE: I plan on writing about this, at least a couple parts, if you'd like to read it let me know and also tell me if you want to be tagged when it comes out;

#feysand #feysand x reader #feyre archeron #feyre archeron x reader #rhysand #rhysand x reader #poly!feysand x reader #acotar x reader #fic concept #soon?#acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #ao3fic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

90 notes · View notes

ervotica · 8 months ago

Text

pairings; tamlin x reader, tamlin x lucien vanserra, tamlin x elain archeron, lucien vanserra x reader, lucien vanserra x elain archeron, elain archeron x reader. tamlin x lucien x elain x reader. this is a poly fic!

a/n; my first tidbit of these four! still undecided on whether it will stay x reader or i’ll create an oc (leaning towards oc atm but let me know!) any thoughts or discussions for this dynamic and these four are open! my inbox is always open for them <3

warnings; none really just fluff, suggestiveness, established relationship dynamic, polycule

thinking about how hard elain would blush if you started calling her lainy.

she hides her face and muffles her giggles with the palm of her hand as you coo over her, the nickname falling from your honeyed lips in a way that has her skin prickling with heat, subtly fanning at the white-hot flush that seizes hold of her every nerve ending.

lucien positively roars with amusement at the effect you have on her, his willowy stature drifting over to the pair of you where you’re sat in the grass, hair tousled and windswept with the breeze of the spring morning. he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks and snorts at the residue of heat that emanates from elian’s milky skin, flushing her a soft shade of pink.

the way tamlin follows the redhead’s lilting laughter always amuses you, as though he has a sixth sense for the three of you, drawn to you like a magnet. he drops a kiss atop elain’s head fondly before he’s hooking his arms beneath your shoulders and hiking you up and into his lap to whisper tauntingly in your ear.

“teasing, are we, my flower?”

“never!” you gasp, swatting indignantly at his chest; he only tightens those thick corded arms in response, nudging at your jugular with the bridge of his nose. a deep hum seeps through his chest when you go limp and pliant, a content smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. he presses a kiss there, too— right at the crease of your lips, the lines carved into your face from years of laughter.

lucien’s lithe fingers are pushing at elain, ushering her into tamlin’s arms right beside you so he can cage the pair of you in, his arms easily finding purchase splayed over you both, sandwiching the four of you together in a mismatched sort of embrace. elain has gone soft against tamlin, mirroring you, ever the epitome of tranquility: eyes closed, a placid smile on your face as your mate nips and kisses at your bare neck.

lucien crowds your space some more, a fervent kiss pressed to each pair of lips in turn; he lingers on tamlin, his tongue darting out to probe further into the high lord’s mouth, jostling both you and elain slightly until you’re pressed chest to chest, trapped between the males as the sounds of wet kissing and deep, gravelly moans encase you. elain tugs you forward by means of her fingers curled around the bodice of your dress.

“c’mon,” you guide her out of the tangle of limbs, coming to rest only a few feet away from the males, who are now tearing at each other’s clothes. “animals…” you muse, eyes bright with laughter as you press a hand to her ribcage and nibble at her bottom lip. she gasps, instinctively arching to press more of her body to yours. she’s docile and receptive as you lay her down in the lawn and crawl on top of her.

you grin and it’s wicked, alight with mischief.

“come on, lainy. we don’t need those brutes to have fun.” her responding giggle is muffled by your mouth slanting over her own, soft hands - so unlike that of your mated males’ - threaded through her hair.

she thinks she’d do anything you’d ask her as long as you keep talking to her in that sweet voice.

149 notes · View notes

fuckyestherest · 5 months ago

Text

Creator Highlight - Week 13

Welcome to our Creator Highlight Week 13! And thanks for understand while we took a brief hiatus!

Every week, we’ll use this space to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use so much of their free time and creative energy to share their work with us and bring our imaginations to life via writing, art, visuals, and many other creative mediums.

This week we want to highlight @acourtofladydeath, a massively talented creator for fic within the fandom, especially for poly and multi-ships! Her stories are imaginative, intriguing, creative, and absolutely stunning–they’ll keep you hooked and hoping for more when you’re done! She has a gift for managing to have the characters all in brand new situations while also keeping their personalities from canon so spot-on that you just can’t get enough.

Her nominators said the following:

“Her works are imaginative and beautiful. But can we talk about her RANGE?!? I’ve never seen someone that can have me sobbing into my pillow one second with All Things End (my absolute FAVORITE) and filling my heart with joy the next like her series, And So Our Life Begins, does for me. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE lol because her 3 Jewels and Welcome to the Family series are so daring and hot and a true treasure to the fandom just like everything she writes.”

“Writing aside, this creator is actively trying to make the fandom a more loving and accepting place. Introducing the Poly ACOTAR week into the fandom with an effort to bring awareness to and acceptance for all kinds of valid relationships.”

“She is a wonderful person with a big heart who is always trying to make sure people feel welcome and appreciated. We’re all lucky to have her.”

As evident from these submissions, she is not only incredibly talented, but also extremely well-liked within the fandom and constantly contributing heart-stoppingly good works.

Her contributions are always fantastic, and we hope to see much more from her for a long time to come!

Below are some of our favorite creations.

All Things End | Azris

And So Our Life Begins | Azris

Welcome to the Family | Elucien, Berlain, Erislain, Elain X all Vanserra Brothers

The Fawn, The Fox, and The Fiend | Eltamcien

Our Greatest Adventure | Nessriel

Stairway Snoops | Azris/Nessia Polycule

Thanks so much for bringing such incredible, creative, and lovely works to our fandom. You’re such a bright spot in this community, and we’re so glad you’re here!

You can find more of @acourtofladydeath on her Ao3 and Masterlist!

#creator highlight #acotar #fic recs #ACOTAR poly #nessriel #nessian #azris #eltamcien #feytamsand #eris vanserra #poly fics #acotar poly fics #fytr #fuckyestherest

40 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 4 months ago

Text

Sickly

Poly!Batboys x reader

Notes: I’m not sure why but a lot of my poly batboys stuff has been Cassian. At this point I should just make these ideas just Cassian x reader but I love including all the boys

Warnings: mentions of medicine and the flu

Kissing and hugging each of your mates goodbye never gets easier. Today was an exception though. You were excited to stay home alone for a few days—alone time is rare since your mates are always around.

Cassian feels the opposite. You saved his goodbye for last knowing how clingy he gets when he goes away.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, sweetheart.” Cassian groans into your neck as he squeezes you. Patting his shoulder you let out a small ‘aww’.

“I’m going to miss you too, baby.” You move to let go but Cassian tightens his hold on you. Rhys lets out a deep sigh. “Cassian, we have to go. Now.”

Cass groans louder, finally releasing you. He ruffles your hair and gives you a small pout. “Bye, sweetheart. We’ll be back in a few days.” He says genuinely sad. You smirk and raise a brow at him. “I know that, do you know that?”

Cassian messes your hair again as Az moves to pull him out the door. “Bye! I love you guys!” You yell after them. “Bye, sweetheart!” Azriel rolls his eyes, “She knows Cass. She will be fine.”

“But what if she isn’t-” before Cassian can get another word out Rhys winks at you, grabbing onto the males to winnow away.

Shutting the door you take the stairs two at a time to your personal chambers. Nuala and Cerridwin had set up a spa night for you and without the boys interrupting you it was sure to be a peaceful one.

Hours later with your hair brushed and braided the twins helped you settle into bed. While your mates would only be away for a few days you were going to revel in this short lived peace.

Your peace was, unfortunately, was shorter lived than you expected. When Nuala came to wake you for breakfast she found you absolutely miserable. Cough, runny nose, aches, and a fever that had her snatching her hand away from your forehead as if you burned her. You had tried to wave it off as nothing but a cold.

“Should I call for the High Lord to return?” Nuala asked carefully. You shook your head slowly so as not to aggravate your sinuses. “No. I’ll be fine, I just need to rest.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Nuala bowed before leaving you.

About halfway through day two you were wishing for your mates to come home and take care of you. You dreamed of Rhys using his powers to take your pain away so you could sleep peacefully. But you couldn’t find it in you to call them home knowing how important their work is.

But today they were finally on their way back. They promised you they’d be back in time for breakfast. All morning, every sound had you jolting to stay awake as you waited in bed.

Your eyes fluttered open as a large calloused hand cupped your cheek, tsking at how warm you felt.

“Hi sweetheart,” Cassian whispered. You mumble an incoherent greeting thanks to your lips feeling too heavy and your tongue sticking to the roof of your dry mouth.

“Has she been sick since we left?” Cassian asked softly, but you could hear the restraint in his voice. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know his jaw was clenched. “Yes,” Nuala replied smoothly, “she didn’t want to call you all home, insisting she rests. Madja has seen her and left tonics.”

Cassian’s fist clenches in your hair, quickly releasing so he wouldn’t hurt you. “Thank you, for keeping an eye on her.” “Of course.” The wraith bows her head, turning on her heel to leave.

Cassian always hated leaving you in case something happened. Even if it was just a cold, Cass wanted to be there to save you from it. The fact that you’ve been suffering for three days without him makes his stomach tie in knots from guilt.

“Can I get you anything? Did you take any tonics yet?” He asks softly.

“No,” you mumble. “Will you get it for me, and some toast?” Cassian leaves a light kiss on your forehead. “Of course I can, I’ll be right back.”

In his absence Rhys and Azriel check on you. The pair dote on you, telling you about the snowfall in the Illyrian mountains. You were starting to wish you went with them, but winter would arrive in Velaris soon.

When Cassian returns he gives the two males a scowl reserved for his soldiers. “Cass, this is not an I-told-you-so moment.” Rhys tells him gently.

“Out, so I can take care of our mate.”

Rhys and Az hesitate, not wanting to leave you while you’re sick.

“You two should go. I don’t want to get all of you sick.” You pout at them, giving them sad eyes for good measure. The pair conceded and left you in Cassian’s care. Az gave you a quick peck on your forehead before Cassian shooed him away.

You watch as Cassian rips your toast up into bite sized pieces to feed to you. You smile at him with hearts in your eyes. Watching the General of the Night Court do something as mundane as angling the straw in your water cup so you don’t worry about spills just makes you fall in love all over again.

Cassian feeds you a few pieces of the ripped up toast before handing you the tonic. As he cuddles up to you Cass lays a cool cloth on your forehead, relieving your high temperature and the splitting headache he knows is coming. A satisfied hum leaves your lips as you snuggle closer to Cassian. “Thank you,” you say quietly. He lightly kisses the top of your head, “Of course, sweetheart.”

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #rhysand x you #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian x you #poly!batboys #poly!batboys x you #poly!batboys x reader

493 notes · View notes

paperibbon · 3 months ago

Text

ink stained hand (will you hold it?)

chapter ii: half on purpose i - ii pairing: poly!feysand x reader series sum. A bookseller’s simple life turns upside down when she becomes fast companions of the Night Court’s Inner Circle. When she develops feelings for the most powerful couple in Prythian, how will she get over the golden thread of fate that pulls them ever so far apart? TW: this chapter has themes of assault. please be cautious while reading.

Your walk home that evening was unmemorable, simply because you could not remember it. Your body went through the motions, turning at the correct corners, opening doors and fitting keys in locks, but your mind was elsewhere, flitting through the day like thumbing through a book.

The High Lady. The High Lord. Your wish.

Like an unending song, you replayed the words you’d said, cringing at yourself, brows pressing together at their reactions. At the High Lord following you to your workplace…

“I believe you’ve forgotten something.”

You jolt forward, snatching the paper from his outstretched fingers as your cheeks blaze with heat. The reaction pulls a chuckle from him, and it rumbles through the air like soft thunder.

“Thank you!” You squeak, and promptly turn your back to him, crumpling up the flimsy and shoving it deep into your pockets. Reana bows her head, her long hair spilling into her eyes, and he dismisses her with a friendly wave. Her eyes search your face, and without words, you know she’s checking to make sure you’re okay with being alone with him. You aren’t, but you incline your head, and she retreats into the back with another bow of her head.

“It’s no problem.”

He pauses, like he’s waiting for you to say something, anything.

You don’t.

It’s a silent few minutes, the air humid and hot, but you aren’t sure it’s because of the weather anymore.

“We don’t judge you.” His words make your face crumple with regret. He sounds sincere, but surely, you wouldn’t know if this is just a salve over a disgruntled citizen of their court or a genuine extend of their hand; if this is the High Lord talking to you or just the male behind the title.

Plastering a neutral expression across your face, you turn to meet him, violet eyes immediately locking onto yours. His hand is outstretched, like he was going to place it on your shoulder, and without a word, he tucks it back into his pockets. The gesture isn’t shamed, isn’t embarrassed or timid. The High Lord simply reads the expression plastered on your face, and understands it, knows it. You aren’t sure if this scares you, or thrills you.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Your words float in the air, and you try to detach your tone. You hope you come off as blase as you’re attempting, but from the faint quirk of his lips downwards, you’re sure you look positively poorly, surely spineless; eager and bright eyed, like a deer with an arrow trained to its eye.

Without another word, he dips his head low, almost like he’s bowing to you, and retreats with a quick turn of his heel. His form is stiff, a learned posture with hands tucked firmly in his pockets and neck straight, but before he disappears around the doorframe, his fingers flick out, long and tan, and it should worry you that you find the action masterfully beautiful. Immediately, a curl of magic tinges the air, and a welcome, cool wind blows your skirts back. The High Lord turns his chin minutely, and you catch a glimpse of his white, white teeth behind the smile, no smirk, he offers you, before disappearing in a thick black fog, leaving behind the deep scent of jasmine.

A shiver running up your back, you unfurl the paper from your pocket, hands fanning out the creases. You trace the familiar words, frown playing on your lips as you turn over the pages, a new script scrawled on the back.

An address, and the words: See you soon. - F

The note gathers dust for days, which turns into weeks. You’d promptly folded it back, and then forced the paper to bend at least three more times before plopping it into your bedside drawer and firmly closing the thing. Your days pass uneventfully. Hot, humid like every other summer day; you work, you walk home, and you almost, almost forget the little folded piece of paper shoved behind socks and scarves. Almost.

Sometimes your hand hovers by the drawer, fingers teasing the handle. The faelight flickers, like it’s breathing with you, a spell cast across your bedroom as you lean towards the allure. You imagine the smell of jasmine, the sea salted air.

You don’t open the drawer.

It’s another hot day in Velaris, your hair laid across your hand as you fan the back of your neck with a paperback. The cover, a muscled female fae holding a wafty human girl in her arms, is ripped and aged in a few places. You’d nicked it from the sale rack, and thumbed through a few racy pages before snorting and deciding it was better used as a fan.

The trickle of people is slow moving, regulars stopping in for a cold drink, or a quick purchase, even just to get out of the heat. There’s a family sitting in the reading nook, a large book splayed across the mother’s lap as she reads in low tones to her little one; his eyes are wide and green, freckles dotting his little hooked nose like kisses from the Mother. His father is smiling wide, and you’re taken with the scene. A tableau of peace.

Your name is called by an unfamiliar voice.

Peace disturbed.

Your hair drops unceremoniously from your hand, and you turn towards the call, a customer service-esque smile plastered across your cheeks, and it falls in the same instance.

The female who called your name is severe, her face seemingly carved from perfect stone, and silvery blue eyes meet yours. High cheekbones and golden hair piled in a bun sitting at the back of her head pull her skin taught, making her face that much more violently beautiful. You know her, if not from her infamy, from her inexplicable likeness to the High Lady.

You slap a smile on your face again, nodding politely. Nesta Archeron makes her way through the stacks of books with light feet and sharp eyes. She takes her time walking to you, gingerly picking up books as she traverses through your store and thumbing through them, before placing them back in their slots. She moves fluidly but surely, like a dancer trapped in the body of a fighter. Why is she here, you ponder, teeth dragging at the inside of your lip. Surely it has something to do with the letter, with your silence. She was a fearsome female, maybe you’d greatly offended the High Lady, and by association, the High Lord. Perhaps she was here to dole out your punishment. Would she take the business out from under you? Cuff you? Imprison you? Or worse, try to talk to you about the letter shoved into the recesses of your nightstand?

Nesta finally stops in front of you, hands clasped loosely together and a small purse swinging from her wrists. Another bag is tucked under her arm, and you catch a whiff of sweet bread as she adjusts it.

“I’m not here to bother your little corner of the world.” She finally says, voice like the first sip of wine. “I’m simply here to buy a book.”

Her words shock you, but it’s a happy surprise.

“What kind of books do you like?”

Her answering smirk is vicious.

“What’s the filthiest thing you have?”

Her arms are full with your recommendations by the time she’s ringing up, piles of truly horrible romance books with plots that would make nose hairs curl stacked as high as the ceiling.

You pack them tightly in a large bag, watching her swing the heavy thing onto her other shoulder with absolute ease and nod her head gratefully. She’s every bit the wild sister her reputation bolsters, a beastly flame flickering underneath her skin with every movement, but her eyes are kind when she looks at you. It’s comforting, almost.

The bell rings softly as she cracks the door open, and you’ve resumed leisurely thumbing through the sale rack when she says your name.

“I’d respond sooner rather than later.” Her voice carries across the shop, and strikes you in the chest squarely. “My sister’s mate is…not a patient one.”

And she’s gone, the door closing firmly behind her.

A note you hadn’t seen before sat on the counter in front of you, on official looking parchment with a thick navy wax seal, the mountains of Velaris ridged into the stamp.

You shove it into your drawer, the seal unbroken, the letter unread.

It’s a dark night, and a long walk to your home. You’d met a friend across the river for dinner, a simple get together and you hadn’t realized how late it had been until you were yawning, eyes drooping as you fought to listen to a story about a recent escapade your friend had endeavored on during a drunken night. You were packing up before you knew it, sent off with a gentle hug, and a promise to see you soon.

The path you’re currently taking is poorly lit, faelights bobbing teasingly from a few streets over, and cobblestones are loose, your heel catching more often than not. You’re only a few blocks away, you can tell because you’re passing a local pub that signals the fork in the road you diverge on when you’re heading back from work. Only five minutes away at most, but your heel catches in a shallow ditch, and snaps clean off.

“Damn it!” You stumble forward, hands flailing about in front of you as you crash to the ground in a sad, tired little heap. You flip your stinging palms up and groan at the dotting red scrapes that greet you. Not only is your shoe unwearable, you were bleeding all over one of your best dresses. The unfairness of the situation brings the stinging sensation up your arms to your eyes, and you blink rapidly as tears dot your vision, blurring the dark street before you. You will not cry, you vow, closing your hands tightly, and beginning to stumble onto your feet.

“Well, hello, little lady!” A voice calls out from the darkness.

A group of males are pushing at each other, tumbling out the door of the pub, very obviously drunk. The one who must have called out to you stumbles into the street, the faint glow of the faelight accentuating the shadows of his form. He’s tall, taller than you of course, and more inebriated from the rest, based on the slur of his words and the lax way his limbs move as he nears you, like they’re attached to him by loose thread. There’s no mistaking the dark gleam in his eye as he rakes them up and down your vulnerable form, drinking deeply from the cup in his hand.

You tighten your arms around yourself, ducking your head low as you haul yourself up. They’re loud, and one of them hooks his arm around his friend’s neck, shoving his legs out from under him and laughing as his drink spills down his front while he crashes to the ground. The group bursts out like a thunderclap, shouldering each other with sick glee, the deep amber liquid trickling through the stones in a river towards your prone form.

“Hello, pretty.” He tries again, words sharp in the silence of the street. Long vowels stretch in his mouth like a snake unfurling its great body in a show of achingly slow anticipation. You dart your eyes around, trying to find the best way of escape, but just like a snake, you know he’s encircling you. He’s found his prey for tonight, and it just happens to be you.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to get home.” With the confidence of a barn mouse, you tuck your shoulders closer, making a move to step around him, around the rabble of males that as far as you can tell, haven’t taken an interest like this male has, but he’s far quicker than you expect him to be, his hands clamping down on your upper arms like vices. The male is soaked in beer and sweat, and by contact, so are you, the dredges of his cup flickering darkly as he pulls a sip.

You wretch your arm from his grip, darting to the side, but a quick step from him, and you’re blocked again, a smarmy sneer showing you a row of teeth that gleam like knives. The laughter from the group at your back proves you wrong; they’re more than interested. This is their new favorite game.

“Why’re you tryna leave us, pretty thing?” The male coos down at you, a finger reaching out to push a loose curl from your hair back, to touch your face, to take a hold of your shoulders and throw you to the ground; you don’t know.

Your breath comes quickly, heart thundering in your ears. You don’t know what to do, should you run? Fight back? Scream as loud as possible? Your mouth opens minutely, a small modicum of movement, but the male in front of you catches on, and quick as a whip, his hand starts forward to cover your mouth.

And then the strangest thing happens.

A body, materializing in front of you, darkness whipping around it like a second coat. It’s almost like the shadows fold around this figure, like a book of black flipping to the bookmarked page. You can’t see the face of your savior, but he’s imposing, a mass of muscle, with an aura that screams danger to the drunk with the sweaty countenance who’s taken to gaping like a fish.

“I suggest,” The great wings on his back splay wide, covering your shrinking form in an obvious display of intimidation. “that you leave the lady alone.”

The beginnings of apologies pour from the male like slick ooze, like vomit, but the darkness raises a hand and immediately, the stammering figure is taking off, falling to the ground quite a few times before he disappears around the corner. In his retreat, he’d dropped the glass of amber liquid, leaving it to shatter on the pavement, soaking both you, and the figure before you. His friends have high-tailed it down the street, possibly running further than that, chickens with their heads cut off flailing about down the street, and it almost pulls a laugh from you.

As your savior turns to you, you realize you know his face. The Night Court’s spymaster is devastatingly handsome and terrifyingly stoic, looking at you with a great intensity that almost makes you sweat. Amber eyes like pools of magma flit over you, from your head to your feet and back again, and you fidget under his gaze, fingering a spare thread on your skirt to avoid eye contact.

“You’re alright?” He edges, wings tucking back into his body. Before, a great show of terror, now, trying to make himself smaller in front of you.

A hum of acknowledgement and a nod. He looks relieved.

“Thank you.” You can tell you’ve startled him, the faint flicker of confusion across his face. Your words aren’t weak like you’d thought they were, and your hand flies up to cup your throat in disbelief at the finality you find in them.

He nods, a sharp up-and-down of his head, and in the blink of an eye, he’s gone. The only proof he had ever been standing in front of you is the foamy beer spilled down your front, and the crunch of glass beneath your feet as you trek home.

The next morning, when you’re stepping out of your doorway to head to work, something soft crunches beneath your shoes. You bend down, peering at the offending object, and another note is staring right back at you, all pristine and folded with meticulous precision. Picking it up and brushing off the dirt from your shoes from its surface, you sigh unfolding it, curiosity getting the better of you. The scrawl is unfamiliar, and it’s signed with only a letter.

I don’t beg. - R

You fold it neatly, and shove it next to the other ones.

…

It’s another day in the city of Velaris, the sun is high in the sky and you’re traipsing through markets on your beautiful, wonderful day off. A heavy basket is tucked into the crook of your arm, laden with colorful vegetables, fruits, savory breads and baked goods from the various stalls, and you’re on the last item of your grocery list when a delicious smell wafting through the air pulls you towards a bakery.

The sign above the door swings on iron hooks, reading “Imogen’s” with a dainty carving of a cake slice topped with swirls of frosting and fruit that you could almost taste. Taking a mental tally of your pocket book, you reason that you have just enough to buy a treat for yourself and the meat taunting you in dark ink on the parchment in your hands. The door is propped ajar with a rusting iron chair, and you edge your body through the opening. The sight that greets you is fogged with the heat of the oven, and it’s almost autumnal in colors. Dark oranges and burgundy reds paint the walls, mismatched mugs dangle under the menu behind the counter, and as you walk further in, thoughtful scrawl on the glass tells you exactly what the pastries laying under it are dusted with, filled with, baked of. Pumpkin pastries, cherry croissants, banana muffins; all lovingly handmade and fresh.

“Hello, doll. Can I get you anything?” The female behind the counter is smiling with all her pearly white teeth, dark black hair falling in thick curls down her back. The lines on her face tell you that she’s an old fae, much older than you, but she’s dressed in the latest Night Court fashion, a velvet purple caftan with gauzy lavender cutouts that make her attire more appropriate for the colder months, not these heated late summer days.

“Ah, what’s good?” You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes flitting from the chocolate chip bread slices cut into little rabbit faces to the garlic knots glistening with butter.

The female hums softly, but her voice doesn’t answer you.

“I’m partial to the honey lavender puffs.” The voice is sweet and saccharine, like a puff of floral perfume, and much too close to your ear. You jump, shoulder coming up to clip the chin of the girl who was leaning over your shoulder, whose cheek slams into your nose. You both fall back from each other, her hand cupping her chin, a steady trail of blood beginning to drip from your nose.

Imogen, the fae behind the counter, sits both of you down at a booth in the corner, you holding a black handkerchief to your nose, and the female you’d hit holding a bound bag of ice to her chin. You can barely peak at her face from the corner of your eye, chin raised so you don’t drip blood down your shirt (well, more blood than it’s already got on it), but you can tell she’s beautiful even with the bruise blossoming across her jaw. Soft caramel curls, brown sugar glazed eyes; it’s like she belongs in the case behind the counter with her sweet glamor.

“I’m so sorry.” You say, but with your nose pinched it comes out more like a nasally jumble of sounds.

“You’re alright.” She replies, and you crane your head to get a better look at her and blink, like her image will dissipate if you try hard enough.

Elain Archeron has her head cocked at you, and you can tell your surprise is written on your face by the way her eyes crinkle with a smile. It’s just a coincidence, you surmise, that you’ve lived your whole life here never having as much as a run in with the High Lord, or his inner circle, but these last few weeks seem…almost staged. You don’t entertain that thought process for very long, actually, drawing the conclusion that this must be one big happenstance. It’s not like you haven’t seen these members of your Court, at least across crowded squares, or celebrations. You’ve even ordered a drink right after Morrigan at a bar once, watched her flounce her way onto the dance floor ahead of you. But these interactions are odd. Odd enough to pull at least some confusion from you.

And this confusion settles in your gut, even as you feel a wet, thick drip of blood pool down your neck.

“Shit.” You right yourself again, pinching a tad harder against your nose to stop the flow of red, folding the damp cloth a different way against your nostrils.

“I’m Elain, by the way.”

You offer your name, and you catch the little hum of… something that Elain lets out.

“What?” Your eyebrows knit together, furrowing in confusion at the knowing look on her face. She simply hums again, a low simple tone that sets you on edge, though you know it shouldn’t. Elain Archeron stands with a flourish of her pale blue skirts, and nods to you in parting.

“It was nice to meet you.” She means it, a true smile gracing her lips as she waves in your line of vision, a little too high to be mindless.

You’re struck by the absence of her smell when she departs, fresh flowers, earthen dirt, and sunshine replaced with the unmistakable smell of powdered sugar and honey. Sniffling sharply, you pull the bloody mess from your nose and look to the table. A box of three honey lavender puffs sits, tied neatly with a gingham blue ribbon, and a note tucked neatly between the box and the bindings. The ribbon covers a majority of the letters, but your eyes catch a swirl of midnight blue ink before you snatch the note and shove it deep in your pocket.

You promise that you’ll clean the handkerchief and bring it back to Imogen, but she lets you know it isn’t even hers.

On your way home, grocery list abandoned for the day, you unravel the bloodied cloth. It’s simple but elegant, night sky dark with silver etching along the border. However, where you’d imagined there’d be a monogrammed E.A. in the corner, a big, fat R is scrawled elegantly in shifting silver threads that blink like stars.

You wash it carefully that evening, and when it’s dry, the silver gleaming under the faelight of your home, you shove it, and the letter, into the deep recesses of your nightstand.

There’s one thing that’s good about the brutal interaction you’d had: the honey lavender puffs are definitely to die for.

This is getting ridiculous.

Here you are, dark drink sweating onto the bar top, careful eyes following a friend around the dance floor as she weaves in and out of dancing strangers with ease, a coy little smile playing on her lips as a female seems to say something to her and they delve into a flirty conversation. It’s not like you don’t want to dance or mingle, it’s just that… well, you actually don’t. You’d endeavored on this night out to distract yourself from the odd occurrences you seemed to be tallying up, but your well-meaning friend has a history of distracting herself with the prettiest face in the room when she’s had a glass or two of wine.

The lights are pulsing an unnatural color, and the bass of whatever music is playing is making your head pound. You peel your eyes away from your friend, who by all accounts has forgotten the reason you’d both come out, and press the damp surface of the glass to your forehead in an attempt to cure the headache brewing to no avail.

“The night is too young to be hungover already, beautiful stranger.” A voice chimes in from your left, and you chuckle despite yourself at the attempt.

“Does that line usually work?” Tilting your head towards the figure, you almost groan at the sight that greets you. The beautiful, blonde Morrigan is leaning temptingly against the bar, arms pushed together in such a way that your gaze is drawn to the low, low cut of her extravagant dress, much better looking than anything that anyone else is wearing, and definitely more flattering than your sleeveless silken slip.

“Hasn’t failed me once.” She waves over the barkeep with a flick of her wrist, red lips turned up in a flirtatious smile as he sets down two startlingly pink drinks that glitter faintly in the low faelight. “Though, from the way you look like you just swallowed a live sardine, maybe I’m about to find out what defeat tastes like.”

She slides over the drink, and takes a sip of her own glass, the stain of her lipstick smudging just that little bit in the corners of her mouth. You hum a little bit, taking your own sip of the glimmering liquid, finding the taste sugary and agreeable, and nod your assent to her.

Your friend calls your name, and it startles you out whatever this is, her hands warm as they come around your shoulders, a sloppy kiss aimed for your cheek meets the side of your nose.

“Sorry. Seems like my night is over.” You stand, reaching for your wallet, but Morrigan’s hand is quick to lay atop yours, shaking her head.

“It’s on me.” She promises, waving her fingers at your out-of-her-mind friend, who giggles drunkenly in her direction. Morrigan’s brown eyes aren’t warm per say, but they crackle with amusement, and something else you hadn’t seen before: recognition.

Over the next few weeks, it’s like everywhere you turn, another member of the Night Court’s inner circle pops up.

You bump into Cassian, the High Lord and Lady’s general, on your way to dinner, and he walks you to your destination. Nesta and Elain visit your store the next day, and Elain requests some gardening books delivered to their home. You accidentally spill a glass of wine down Morrigan’s white dress at a bar you dragged another friend to, and she laughs it off, leaning into the arms of a female she was with and flicking her wrist, the stain disappearing. You quite literally run into Azriel on your way to work when you’re running particularly late, and you don’t even realize it was him until hours later.

With every encounter comes a small look, a little comment. Sometimes, another note is left in the palm of your hand, a flower at your doorstep.

Why make this effort, you wonder for the thousandth time., why care this much about some lowly nothing in their city? You can’t blink and make mountains move, you can’t sneeze and start a forest fire – you’re just you. Is that worth all this?

The last member of the inner circle saunters into your shop, menacing silver eyes sliding over you from head to toe, and she leaves a note on your counter before slinking back out the door with not one word uttered to you. Amren’s presence hovers over the shop the rest of the day.

Enough is enough, you decide, fanning all the letters shoved into your bedside table across your bed, tracing the words with your careful gaze, thumb following the strokes of letter and words. It’s time to meet this head on, you suppose, accept this odd…friendship seems to be the wrong word seeing as you’re not at all interacting with the source of all this.

Kindness. It’s the word you end on. This is a huge, unforgettable, glaringly large kindness from your High Lord and Lady. They’re making an effort, it’s time you respond in kind.

There’s only one question you unfortunately need to answer – What do you wear to meet your High Lady and High Lord when you’ve ignored them for weeks?

#acotar fic #feysand x reader #acotar x reader #poly!feysand #theis writes!#inked #acotar #babe finally jesus christ..... sorry yall i've fallen down rabbit holes of other hyperfixations and it's been almost three months i feel ba

212 notes · View notes

shadowdaddies · 10 months ago

Text

My masterlist of ACOTAR poly fics! I'll keep this updated as I continue to write.

✨= fluff

❤️‍🔥= smut

💧= angst

💥 = action (ka-pow!)

Nessian x Reader

✨As Long as I Have You (Nessian x Reader)

✨Banter (Nessian x Reader)

❤️‍🔥✨💧Everything to Me (Nessian x m!Reader)

Feysand x Reader

💧The Real Nightmare (Feysand x dark!Reader)

↳ 💧✨Part 2

Cazriel x Reader

✨Rescue Me (Azriel x Reader x Cassian)

✨❤️‍🔥New Memories (Azriel x Reader x Cassian)

❤️‍🔥Between a Rock and a Hard Place (Cassian x Reader x Azriel)

↳ 💧✨Part 2

Rhysriel x Reader

✨❤️‍🔥Love Intertwined (Rhysand x Azriel x Reader)

Nesta x Cassian x Azriel x Reader

❤️‍🔥The Dilemma (Nesta x Cassian x Azriel x Reader)

Batboys x Reader

✨All Together Now (Batboys x Reader)

❤️‍🔥Spontaneity (Batboys x Reader)

❤️‍🔥Tender (Batboys x Reader)

343 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 3 months ago

Text

against the contract, chapter one

poly!Feysandriel x f!Reader

warnings: d/s dynamics seen, bondage, bdsm, piercing kink, needles, blood, toys

word count: 2022

a/n: here we go!! let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, next chapter comes 10/1 :)

series masterlist | next chapter >>>

There's a type of power in entering a room and having everyone stop to look at you. Rhysand, the devil of Velaris, knew that all too well, and loved every second of it. A man like him was made for the dark and night, but that didn't mean he couldn't shine in it. Tonight, however, someone else was capturing everyone's attention, and he intended to figure out who and what made them so enticing. You’d slowly gained notoriety, and he made it his job to know all players in his city.

A single question to the right person, someone who recognized him, got him directions to a back room, he entered with his right hand wrapped around Feyre's waist, keeping her flush against his side. Azriel kept pace beside him on the left, a hairsbreadth too close to be just friendly, his shoulder brushing against his every few steps.

The room they found was bathed in red light, throwing a ... sexual energy over everything. Intentional, he was sure of it. A leather topped platform stood on top of another platform at the front of the room, elevated perhaps two feet or so off the ground.

Right there, kneeling on the leather, that’s where he got his first glance at you. With your eyes cast downward, hair braided back, hands behind your back, you made the picture-perfect submissive. He couldn't see behind you, but he could imagine you had perfect positioning from that angle as well, either your fingers interlocked, or opposite forearms grasped. He imagined there wasn't much about you that wasn't perfect.

A dark haired, tanned woman stood before you, circling. You kept perfectly still. He spotted the tray on a small stool to the left. Needles, jewelry, swabs, alcohol wipes, and everything else needed for a piercing. His interest rose more, especially as he noticed Feyre’s head tilt up, her body pushed lightly against his arm as she straightened for a better view.

You’d never see the three of them, cloaked in darkness as they were but you shone under that spotlight.

There was no announcement, no grand words as it began, but the quiet clink of a needle caught everyone’s attention. Each bit of this was intentional, he knew it, to wrap someone deep into a web and for once he found himself wanting to let go, to heed resistance, to be swarmed and brought into the fold.

Rhysand thought he caught the briefest hint of nerves, but the woman’s hand cupped your cheek and you melted. The woman stood behind you, one hand tilting your chin up, leaning down to whisper something in your ear.

“Yes,” you replied breathily, voice carrying across the room. No honorific, if this woman was your Dominant you would’ve used the title. Rhysand couldn’t help hoping you weren’t claimed.

She pinched your nipple, her mouth caressing the side of your neck, and he wished it was his hands and mouth on you. Another female came on stage and he watched as the two worked you, twisting the platform to show the elegant double column ties down your arms, tied off to a metal ring on the floor. Your legs were tied individually, your calves flush against the backs of your thighs, tied off to the floor as well. Pinned in place. The separate ties made sense as you spread your legs, revealing a fucking beautiful cunt, folds already glistening. He didn’t bother shifting to hide his hardening cock, especially as Feyre squirmed next to him. He knew Azriel wouldn’t move an inch, just as well as he knew there was no way the male was entirely unaffected by you.

As the second woman brought out a vibrator and crouched slightly off to the side not to block your view, before clicking a button and pressing it deep against your clit, your teeth dug into your bottom lip, fighting to stay still. The buzzing filled the room, along with your panted breaths.

The first woman ripped open an alcohol swab, and Rhysand shoved his free hand into his pocket to hide how his fingers curled. Azriel shot him an amused yet still aloof look, and he fought the impulse to roll his eyes like a child might.

“Stop distracting me,” Feyre hissed and elbowed him. He hadn’t realized he was gripping her so tightly, he loosened his fingers a tad, a brush of guilt creeping in. “Oh stop that,” Feyre placed her hand on top of his. His darling was a sight, as always, clad in a sheer gossamer dress, resting just at her mid-thighs with a plunging neckline.

He hadn’t realized he’d been stuck staring at her until she spoke again. “You’re about to miss it.”

Rhysand’s head snapped forward fast enough his vision blurred for a second, clearing just in time to see pure ecstasy crossing your face as the needle pierced your skin.

“I want her,” Feyre breathed after the second piercing. What or in this case who his Feyre darling wanted, he did his best to be sure she got.

Needles still in both of your breasts, you came with your head thrown back, a silent scream leaving your lips, and his newest obsession was born.

You changed into comfortable clothes, leaving the jewelry in for now. You liked having it in for a few hours after each performance. There was something to be said about solidifying the experience and memory in your mind.

The door flew open, your lips parted to give a greeting to whoever it might be, but your words froze in your mouth. It was unusual for anyone to re-enter the locker rooms, especially at this time. Comically slowly, you turned around to face the intruder, hand reaching for the knife in your bag. You relaxed as the smell of expensive but not very tastefully applied perfume hit you.

“Morrigan wants to work with you again next time,” Francine, the club owner, said brusquely, striding into the changing room. You pause. It was strange for her to be in here, stranger to come for something that could’ve been a text.

“She told me,” you said slowly. The blonde hadn’t said that directly, but she’d said something close enough earlier.

“One of these days,” Mor tapped your shoulder, “I’ll convince Emerie to scene with both of us.”

“Poor me,” you groaned over-dramatically, but in reality that sounded quite nice.

“Excuse me, more like lucky you,” ruby red lips smiled at you over the edge of a wine glass. A sensuous and promising smile.

A promise you’d quickly take her up on another day, but right now. “I’m out tonight,” you waved a hand over your chest. “Open wounds and all.”

“Pity,” something, perhaps someone - probably Emerie, distracted the blonde and she pressed a kiss to your cheek before darting off behind you. Figuring that was a good time as any to leave, you tipped the bartender and left.

Francine rubbed at her nose, shoving her red framed glasses up. Her matching red lips pursed into a frown. “Well. Since you’re here, I told them – all three of them,” she emphasized, “ that you don’t take contracts, but they insisted on offering to you.” You tried not to show your offense at her scoff. “And that it remained sealed,” she sighed as if it was a massive inconvenience, waving the letter in the air. That caught your attention. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered you a contract, but it would be the first time it made it to you. Usually Francine refused on your behalf, per your instructions, of course. But ... the look on her face. There was a mixture of expectation, and perhaps a hint of fear. You’d never known anything or anyone to scare that overbearing woman before. She ran a sex club for Gods sake.

Her look implied she expected you to open it there and share. You remembered her scoff, the mocking way she said ‘you.’ No way. The nosy bird didn’t need these particular details. You enjoyed your privacy, and suspected these clients did too. Maybe a contract was just what you needed to take your mind off things, but you knew that would be very different from the ‘performances,’ you usually did a few times a week for the club. Francine liked to call you her ‘greatest discovery.’ You had choicer words for the woman, and generally kept them to yourself.

You took the sealed envelope from her hand and tucked it into your bag. “I’ll look it over tonight and get back to you tomorrow.”

A mix of disappointment and relief followed by a tight lipped smile and short nod as she pivoted, stalking from the room. You gave an overly cheery wave behind her back. Better than flipping her off. Too many mirrors.

You went through your entire getting-home routine first. The Domme or Dom from your scenes always provided excellent aftercare, but it never hurt to love on yourself a little. After a shower, removing the jewelry from earlier and cleaning out the small wounds, a meal, and a couple glasses of water you finally felt ready.

Flipping through it, it looked pretty standard - nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary. Not that you had much knowledge or experience with them, but nothing crazier than what you expected.

L.1 The Submissive will live with the Dominants for the duration of the contract.

You frowned at the line. Vague. You'd expected perhaps a bit more detail on that, but maybe it would be discussed when you met them. Gods, you really were thinking about taking this contract. Your very first one.

Your mind wandered as you gazed over the words. If they were ugly, would you back out? You didn't think Francine would offer you a contract with someone especially hideous, but she had hinted they were very much VIP clients. Three of them, too.

Spine straightening as you made it to the “Rules” section, you bent your head a bit closer to the paper.

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominants immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominants excepting those activities which are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). They will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Reading through the paper, seeing the official language, sent heat to your stomach. Part of you was turned on by this, the idea of having a semi-legal contract entitling individuals to your submission and you to their dominance. You bounced one leg, there was so much to think about, but it seemed so simple. A voice, one who’d gotten you into both good and bad situations, whispered at you to ‘just take it.’

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominants. The Submissive will conduct themself in a respectful manner at all times, unless otherwise requested.

Unless otherwise requested ... you frowned and highlighted that section. What the hell did that mean? Perhaps some kind of roleplay. You put a question mark next to it.

There was a section for you to fill in your hard limits, easy enough considering you’d had those memorized for years, having been asked the question frequently enough.

You flipped back up through, double checking for the section on safewords. Satisfied with “Green, Yellow, and Red,” you didn’t mark anything on that page.

All of this was thrilling. Invigorating. Lighting an energy you hadn’t felt at this intensity in so, so long. Not since him.

Ashamedly, what really caught your attention, in the end, was just how much they were willing to pay for your time. You could live comfortably for years off of that sum without having to work. Perhaps this is what would send you straight to hell, but in that moment you didn’t particularly care what they looked like, as long as they obeyed the rules set on paper, so could you.

Azriel, crouched in the shadows on a neighboring roof, watched through your parted blinds as you highlighted and noted the contract. Good girl.

series taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @yeonalie @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @justasillylittlegoofyguy @aactuaaltraash @hannzoaks @angelbunny222 @littlest-w01f @pandabiiissh

acotar taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze

general taglist: @lilah-asteria @yeonalie @I-am-a-lost-girl16

#feysandriel x reader #poly!feysandriel x reader #rhysand x reader #azriel x reader #feyre archeron x reader #acotar fic #acotar smut #acotar x reader

237 notes · View notes