#poly!feysand

[danikamariewrites]

Together for the First Time

Feysand x reader

A/n: happy Poly week! I’m so excited to be doing this and reading what everyone else has come up with. Today is Day 1 which is beginnings. I decided to do when Feysand and reader start being open with the Inner Circle about their relationship and of course Cassian’s inability to keep a secret. @polyacotarweek

Warnings: none

For the first time in two hundred years Cassian was actually early for a meeting with his brothers. He even had a lil pep in his step. Things were good, great even. He and Nesta were good, Nyx loved spending time with him, the family was at peace. Nothing could ruin Cassian’s day.

A giggle from inside Rhys’s office interrupted his thoughts. It sounded unfamiliar.

Creeping closer to the door Cassian finds it cracked open. Willing his massive body to be stealthy he holds his breath and listens.

That sweet giggle rings through the room again along with Rhys and Feyre’s laughter. Odd. Cassian wasn’t aware of any other meetings today. He was supposed to take up all of his brothers’ time today.

“Alright,” that voice. Cassian knows that voice. Where has he heard that voice?

“We should probably go get Nyx from his nap together. Since Rhys put him down he’s going to want us.”

Cassian slightly turned his head to look through the cracked door. The sight had his jaw unhinging, practically hitting the floor. Rhys kissing Feyre then you. You, y/n! With his brother and Feyre! When on earth did this happen?

Cassian began to panic. Oh Mother, what if he’s the only one that knows? Cass won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

As you and Feyre made your way to the door Cassian began to jog as quietly as possible around the corner. Peaking, he watched you and Feyre walk down the hall hand in hand.

Plastering himself against the wall he waits a few moments before heading into Rhys’s office. Composing himself he enters the office ready to give Rhys his update about the Illyrian army.

———

Rhys thought about his brother's odd behavior as he followed the sound of his son's playful giggles. What on earth had Cassian so jumpy and tense?

He shook his head forgetting all about the stressful conversation.

Upon seeing you and Feyre playing with Nyx his smile widened. Sitting on the floor Rhys began to hand his son blocks for the little village he was focused on constructing.

“Are you two sure you want to do this tonight?” You ask from your spot in the corner of the room, propped up by the mountain the size of Ramiel of Nyx’s stuffed toys.

Feyre and Rhys give you a sad look. “Why wouldn’t we be sure?” Rhys coos at you.

You shrug at them, looking away absentmindedly playing with the wing of a stuffed owl. “What if the family doesn’t accept us, me?”

They move to either side of you, squishing you in a side hug. “Of course they will. And even if they don’t it doesn’t matter.” “You’re positive?”

“Sweet girl, you are our mate. Of course we are sure.” Rhys kisses your forehead as Feyre kisses your cheek. Nyx huffs, feeling left out the small boy yells, “Hey! No fair, I want kisses too!” He throws his small body onto the three of you. Knocking you back into the stuffed animals in a fit of giggles.

———

Dinner started with light conversation and a delicious appetizer thanks to Elain. You sit with Rhys and Feyre at the end of the table. Your chair very close to the two of them.

Cassian felt like he was going to explode. He has kept this gods damned secret to himself all day. Another new record.

As the main course appears with a wave of Rhys’s hand he clears his throat. The family’s attention turns to him. All happy and content faces.

“Feyre and I have exciting news to share with you.” The two look at you, bright smiles on their faces as the bond hums between the three of you.

Anticipation coursed through the room as Rhys grasped your hand, giving it a loving squeeze.

“We have discovered a triad bond. Between myself, Feyre, and y/n.” He said happily, beaming at his friends. You couldn’t look at them. Holding your breath your eyes dart around everyone’s faces.

You found nothing but love and acceptance. Mor raised her wine glass, “Congratulations! This is rare, but wow! You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

The rest raise their glasses cheering, “here, here!”

At that hour anxiety was relieved. It seemed so was Cassian’s. After taking a huge gulp of wine Cass he breathed out the loudest sigh of relief. His head hitting the table. “Thank the Mother!” Everyone looked at him, Azriel let out one of those rare laughs at his brother's antics. “Cass?” Feyre asks with a chuckle.

“I saw you and y/n earlier coming out of the office, I also saw you guys in the office because I was early. I’ve been keeping this damn secret all day and thank gods you said something!” He rambled.

“Wait,” Rhys looks at him with a raised brow, “you were early?

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #feyre x you #feyre x reader #Feyre archeron #feyre acotar #feyreandrhysand #rhysand x you #rhysand x reader #rhysand acotar #poly!feysand x you #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x reader #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek2024 d1

[throneofsapphics]

✧poly!Feysand✧

✧Rhys✧

relapse ↳ part two if you insist small touches chocolate* giving in surprise reunions* a special surprise* the other side stay in the moment with me

✧Azriel & Cassian✧

time is running out up all night ↳ part two points for creativity the ebb and flow of fate ↳ part two* ↳ part three ↳ part four ↳ part five* ↳ epilogue footprints in the snow

✧poly!Nessian✧

a different kind of fear ↳ part two theirs* ↳ part two in and out of dreams* headcannons a present*

✧Mor✧

change the locks* temporary brand* bad decisions* copy me* met you in the bathroom day and night pretty for me*

✧Cassian✧

obsession unconventional weapons

✧Azriel✧

girl's night can't turn down a challenge bad idea easy decisions it only takes three just one more never trust a good deal from the shadows finding you again - prologue ↳ part one

✧Azriel & Rhys✧

desperate* horrible timing yes or no*

✧Rhys & Azriel & Cassian✧

brush away the dust

✧Nesta✧

dating manon and nesta sweet ride* dinner first*

✧Next Gen✧

Nyx nosy parents ↳ part two ↳ part three busybodies a pretty smile Nyx & Sunshine Reader ambushes and invitations misplaced chivalry Nessian's Daughter & Reader passing the test Eris's Daughter & Reader stolen moments and chance meetings ↳ part two ↳ part three

#acotar x reader #acotar drabble #acotar imagine #acotar next gen #next gen acotar #feysand x y/n #feysand x reader #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x reader #poly! feysand x y/n #rhys x reader #rhys x y/n #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #nessian x y/n #nessian x reader #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #nesta archeron y/n #nesta archeron x reader #feyre archeron x y/n #feyre archeron x reader #acotar smut

[paperibbon]

ink stained hand (will you hold it?)

✩ ... feysand x reader series.

COMING SOON.

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?

series preview.

I pull my hand back from Feyre’s, feeling the red hot spike of lust shoot through my chest. Her stormy eyes flick to my parted mouth, and I can feel the heat creep over my cheeks, flushing my nose. My feet carry me back, away from the feelings I’m not ready to let myself answer to, away from the slit in her dress and the tilt of her lips and the ache I’m drowning in.

An arm darts out when I turn to make my exit, catching the skirt of my dress in long fingers. The stars make Rhysand look otherworldly. They seem to follow his movements with abandon, streaking across the sky to light the way for him. His brow is quirked, lifted in amusement. 

“Going somewhere?”

#acotar fic #poly!feysand #feysand x reader #feyre x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #paperibbon writes

[we-were-beautiful]

Unraveled Ends Chapter 1

a/n: Remember How I said I wanted to get the first chapter out the first week of July, well I am nothing but a filthy liar. All my photos for the moodboard/aesthetic come from pinterest. Big Thanks to @curse-bearing-hips and @whisplion for all the help with editing this chapter. That being said we are all still human and there may be some errors and I apologize in advance. Hope y’all enjoy  

Summary: A tailor in the heart of Velaris finds herself mated to the two most powerful fae in Prythian. Unfortunately for her the mating bond only snapped for her, leaving her to question on how to move forward. Should she wait for her mates to feel the bond or should she go ahead and reject it and live with the gaping hole in her heart  

Poly!Feysand x Reader 

Warnings: None but there is angst

WC:2k

Starfall, the busiest time of the year for the city of Velaris. It was a time of year that I both enjoyed and detested. The Palace of Thread and Jewels was always bustling, but during this time of year the workload nearly tripled for the tailors and jewelers. Citizens milled about trying to find the perfect outfit and accessories for the special day. 

The Y/L/N family shop specialized in catering to the elite citizens of the city, having outfitted everyone from the wealthy merchants to the High Lord’s family for many years. It wasn't unusual for high profile clients to come into the shop for a custom outfit. Just last month Morrigan had come in for a custom gown for a dinner that she had. So when the bell on the door rang out as it opened, I braced myself for whoever my next clients were. On my way out of the back, I catch a brief snippet of the conversation happening.

“Cassian, move your ass. We were this close to not being able to get Y/N to make our outfits last year and I refuse to take that chance again.” That was definitely Morrigan. True, by the time the High Lord’s inner circle had made their way to the shop last year, we had nearly had to turn them away.

“Don’t worry Morrigan, you have come early this year so there is no reason to worry. You are at the top of my list this year.” I reassure her as I step into the main room of the shop. Last year… last year Starfall had been hell, the memory of the last time the whole inner circle had been in the shop burned deeply into my memory 

“Ah, Miss L/N we are so sorry to ask this of you. I understand that it is a last minute request, but you are the best tailor in the city.” Rhysand had all but begged. In the end, I agreed as the High Lord had agreed to pay my team and I a hefty sum on top of what their outfits would cost. I had warned him that we would be running on a tight deadline and the outfits most likely would be done right before Starfall. I had had no expectations of ever finding my mate or that I would be blessed with two of them, but fate has a funny way of working.

“So tell me what are you looking for in your outfits for this Starfall?” I had pulled the High Lord and Lady into my office to gauge what the couple desired in their outfits. Feyre started to describe what she had been looking for in her gown; as she speaks, my hand flies across the page, roughly sketching out the dress she describes. I make a few adjustments here and there after she finishes.

“Are there specific pieces of jewelry that you are wanting to showcase with the dress?” I briefly glance up to the mated pair seated across from me. Rhys had draped his arm around Feyre’s shoulders. The perfect image of the happily mated couples that parents tell their babes about.

“No, I am looking more to showcase the dress this time around.” She responds with a kind smile leaning further into her mate. 

“And High Lord, are you wishing to match the High Lady’s dress?”  I address Rhysand for the first time since the two entered.

“Yes I would prefer to match my mate for the evening.” the High Lord's voice is as smooth as a night time breeze.

“Ok so that is doable. We can easily match a suit to the High Lady’s dress.” I begin to ramble as the pencil begins to fly across the page “are there any preferences on colors?” I look up to the two of them. I wish I hadn’t at that moment I felt a snap. Two golden threads tethering me to the beautiful couple sitting in front of me. It’s not hard to figure out that it had only snapped for me and not for the High Lord and Lady. I quickly made sure to adjust my mental shields and my facial expression.

“Is everything alright?” Feyre cocks her head to the side, eying me with a look of concern.

“Yes, sorry. Just lost in thought.” I try to quickly laugh it off. One look on her face tells me that I was not successful in that endeavor. I quickly pass my sketchbook over to the two of them to evaluate the sketches “Now what are your thoughts. We can make some adjustments but given the time constraints we might not be able to do anything overly extravagant.”

The two of them take the book and look over the sketches with wide grins. I took the time to memorize those smiles not knowing if I would be able to see them again.

The two weeks after that fateful meeting had been near torture; to have them so close but yet so far from my grasp. I had tried my best to continue on with life as normal following that fateful meeting, but apparently my shop had pulled off a small miracle for the inner circle and thus they had declared it their place to get clothes. Occasionally I could avoid Feyre and Rhysand, pawning them off to another one of the shop's seamstresses,  but more often than not they insisted I be the one to work with them. It seemed today would be no different as they beeline for me.

“Sweetheart, how are you today?” Ah yes sweetheart, the nickname that Rhys had decided for me. Once he started calling me that Feyre quickly caught on and the two of them refused to call me by anything other than their nickname for me. 

“I am doing well, High Lord, I assume you and Lady Feyre wish to go first for the consultations?” I give them a polite smile. I am met with wide grins from the two of them. 

“Please it’s Rhys, and yes we would like to go first.” He pulls Feyre into his side and places a gentle kiss on the top of her head as I gesture to my office, and am met with an uproar from the rest of the inner circle about favoritism as I tell them to take a seat in the waiting room.

With the exception of a few new bolts of fabric and more sketchbooks sitting on the desk my office hadn’t changed since last Starfall. Two comfortable leather chairs sat in front of the large desk. My well loved chair sat behind it, my favorite shawl draped over the back.

There was one major change in the office. A dress form, with my Starfall gown hanging to it.  Typically I wanted to keep my Starfall gown hidden away until the last minute to surprise everyone, but this year it had come to reside in my office. The dress clung to the form silver fabric flowing to pool on the floor like mercury. Small crystal shards caught the sunlight and reflected small rainbows throughout the room. It was a work of art that I had taken to working on piece by piece in my spare time. It was nearly done. I just had to finish off the sleeves and it would be perfect. I wasn’t the only one who thought this as Feyre walked over to the dress. She reaches out a tattooed hand as if to run her fingers along the fabric before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Is this dress spoken for? It is beautiful.” She asked, looking back at me and Rhysand as I shut the office door.

“As much as I would love to say that you could take that dress Lady Feyre; that is my gown for Starfall.” I move towards my chair, busying my hands with gathering my supplies needed for a consultation “Normally it stays hidden until the day of but we have been so busy this year; I've been having to work on it little by little and it easiest to do it here in the office.” 

There is a little pout on her face that nearly has me giving it to her  to make her smile again. 

“You will look like one of the stars.” Rhysand jokes as he pulls Feyre into his side. The little jealous spark that begins to burn turns my stomach. I tried to tramp down the jealousy… the envy every time I saw the two of them here in my office or walking around Velaris. Wishing that there would be space for me with the two of them; but who am I to disturb something so beautiful and perfect. They have the perfect life with their beautiful baby and friends, there is no room for me. Our lives are so vastly different from each other so I put on a smile and get to work designing coordinating Starfall outfits for the two of them. By now the two of them know the drill and begin describing what they want in their outfits and I dutifully begin sketching them out. I catch Feyre glancing over at the dress form several times and asking for similar elements in her dress. I oblige her, willing to give the two of them almost anything, just to make them smile.

I work efficiently to try and get the two of them out of my office as  quickly as possible without trying to seem rude. I needed some air away from my two mates and I still had their entire friend group to go through. By the end of the consultation both the High Lord and Lady are pleased with the preliminary designs; they leave my office hand in hand with smiles on their faces. The rest of the inner circle's appointments fly by providing me with a much needed breather, but I am thrown for a loop when I am working with the Shadowsinger.

I had made things for the Illyrian warrior before, but I never noted how observant he was. Working with Azriel had always been a treat. The male favored rather simple but quality garments. Always wanting to blend into the crowd and not stand out, his appointments tended to be rather fast, but today seemed to be different. I could feel his gaze burning into me as I sketched out a new suit for him. I glance up from the paper to meet his hazel gaze. His shadows danced around his shoulders and darted across the room. It wasn’t unusual for them to dance about the room and round me whenever he was in; almost as if they could sense a kindred spirit.  

“You seem…” he paused as if searching for the right words. “Disheartened.”  

I set down the pencil and give him my full attention. 

“I'm fine, Azriel. It's something personal. Nothing that you need to worry about." The lie almost sounds believable, but Azriel sees right through my lie; he raises an eyebrow but does not press the issue; letting me get back to work. Once the two of us are happy with the design we are quick to head out. Before I can open my office door, he gives my shoulder a quick squeeze with his hand.

“Please, If you need help don’t hesitate to reach out.” He gives me a small smile before rejoining his friends in the lobby. 

The Inner circle is quick to thank me before they sweep out of the shop and into the city. I wait a few minutes for them to get further away from the shop before I let the seamstresses know that I am going to head home for the day, feigning a headache. I don’t remember the walk home, the path so burned into my memory that my mind was free to wander as I walked the familiar path to my family's home. It is only when I am here alone do I allow the façade to crumble away. I slump to the floor as I let the tears fall. How could the Mother be so cruel; to give me not just one mate but two, who are so vastly different from me; and for them to have already solidified their bond and start their own family. Rhysand and Feyre deserve the world for all that they have done for Prythian, and here I am just me. How can I even compare to them, let alone ruin the beautiful partnership that they already have? 

Taglist: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @rachelnicolee @goldenmagnolias @jesssicapaniagua @winterrainworld

#acotar x reader #feysand x reader #poly!feysand x reader #poly!feysand #rhys x feyre #rhysand x reader #feyre x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhys x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #rhysand x feyre x reader #unraveled ends

[tadpolesonalgae]

Are you up to write something for poly!feysand x reader? Maybe a little darker.

I found your account recently and I'm obsessed with everything you wrote.

A Court of Nightmares!Feysand x reader: Beg for It[***]

A/N: Pretty filth, as promised. Also thank you so much for this ask, I was elevated to a higher plane while writing this 😭💖

Summary: The High Lord overhears your treasonous thoughts and decides to have his High Lady help with your punishment.

Warnings: Dub-con, humiliation, degradation, pussy eating (reader receiving), oral (m!receiving), threesome fmf, edging?,

The cold granite always sucks the warmth from the room. In spite of the terracotta rug you have on the hewn floor, and the paprika infused bedcovers, everything’s grey. Having to live here day after day after day after day, it sucks your life away from you before you even get a chance to live it. Simply wasting away beneath the rock of the mountain.

And yet the High Lord and Lady come and go as they please. They’re free to travel the land in ways you’ll never be permitted to. Hatred burns beneath your skin, resentment bitter in your mouth.

Your head is yanked back, sharply, a slim arm curling around your waist as a female body presses into you. You’re paralysed, completely taken out of your own control as you freeze. “Hello there, little traitor.” A shiver zaps down your spine at the cruelly lilting tone of the High Lady. What was she doing here?

A laugh rings from her dark painted lips, the sound empty and cold, “don’t panic,” she drawls, nails biting into your sides as her canines nip at your ear, “or maybe do, considering those treasonous thoughts you were practically screaming at us in the feasting hall.” Dread coils in your lower belly, solidifying into terror.

She laughs again as she scents your fear, nosing at the soft skin of your neck. “Not so aggressive now, are you?” She croons, hand releasing your hair to curl around your throat, “come on, where’d all that fight go?” She yields a seed of control, allowing your words to return.

You grit your jaw, the muscles trembling. You know what she’s capable of with those daemati abilities. You feel it as her lips slice into a wicked grin over the pulse point of your neck. “Silence isn’t going to cut it, little traitor. I suggest you start answering before I loose my temper.”

Terror thrums through your blood, singing for you to run, screaming at you to submit to escape whatever she has planned. You swallow, “damn you to hel.” The words come out as a rasp beneath the squeeze of her fingertips, sharp claw-like nails biting into your skin.

With powers you can only dream of, she drags your bedside table until it presses against your hips, forcing you to lean over roughly. “You brought this on yourself, pretty liar. Remember that when you’re screaming for us to stop.” Her hands forcefully push you down onto the desk, bending you over and your body complies, wilfully following her cold commands as she shoves your skirts up.

Her breasts press into your back as she leans into you, squishing you between her own lean body and the table. One hand slips beneath your waist, snaking between your legs as she cups you. You take in a sharp breath, freezing in shock at the invasion. Her canines nip against your neck as she opens her mouth over the sensitive skin, “scared, little traitor?” Her nimble fingers push further between your legs, her middle and forefinger pressing at your entrance as silver lines your eyes.

“There exist a multitude of methods to torture without resorting to violence,” she croons, “surely you’re aware of that.” You swallow, balling your hands into fists, thinking of every year you’ve spent trapped beneath the rock, kept from the outside. You grit your teeth, making a choice, “I’ve been kept beneath this mountain my entire life while you’re free to travel as you please,” you snarl, “I understand well enough.”

The sharp talons jutting from her fingertips dig into the bare skin of your inner thigh, making you hiss. “I wouldn’t want to make this any worse for yourself, pretty liar,” she purrs, hand dipping beneath your flimsy slip of fabric, fingers locating your clit effortlessly.

You’re surprised by her bold moves, and by the shock of pleasure that flows from your nerve endings. You jolt, dropping onto the table, forearms bracing you as you inhale sharply; exhale heavily. She laughs wickedly, “I didn’t expect you to crumble so easily,” she croons, circling the sensitive area repeatedly. “Who would’ve thought,” she drawls, “and after all that heat of hating us for being able to leave at our pleasure.”

Her hands leave you and you seize the chance to scramble for your composure. That is, until she kneels behind you, tendrils of darkness wrapping up your thighs and lower back to keep you tied to the table. You gasp when her thumbs gently pull at the soft, wet skin around your entrance, spreading you wider. Hot embarrassment flushes your cheeks, “what the hel are you doing?”

She laughs darkly from behind you, thumbing at your sopping hole, “No guesses? I’m sure I’d be delighted to hear your ideas.” Your thighs tremble as you have to lean more heavily on the desk, frantically attempting to close your legs. “How do you even know if I have an appetite for females?” You pant, trying desperately to force a growl into your voice, to no avail.

“I don’t,” she laughs, the soft breath brushing over your inner thighs with how close she is, “this is torture, remember?” Her tongue sweeps over your entrance and your arms almost give out then and there. You revel in the way the hot, wet muscle drags over you, how she laps so intently. “Don’t you think it’s unbecoming of a High Lady to lower herself like this?” You manage to pant through the mind clouding pleasure that’s thrumming through your body, lighting your sensing with flame.

She nips at your clit and a moan escapes you. Your palm smacks across your mouth the second after but it’s too late. “You seem to certainly be enjoying how I’m lowering myself.” Her tongue pushes against your entrance and you dig your nails into the desk desperately.

“You want to come, little traitor?” She drawls, lapping up your cunt, pressing against the swell of your now puffy clit. “Come on,” she croons, “as your High Lady, you belong to me. Every part of you. Every breath, every touch, every orgasm. It’s mine.”

“I believe you’re my High Lady, Feyre Darling.”

You freeze. Even the female behind you stops. Then she’s rising from her kneeling position, arms lacing around your waist possessively, one hand snaking to your jaw, forcing you to watch as the High Lord prowls into the room.

“Which means all of that,” he emphasises as his cold, violet eyes burn into you, “is also mine.” Behind you, you can feel the exact moment her body looses its tension, muscles melting as his words slither over her, becoming soft and pliable.

Pure malevolence drips from him as he stalks forward, power thrumming in the air of your bedchambers, pushing into every nook and corner. “Surely you remember how to share,” he purrs, eyes on his mate. Despite not being able to see her, you’re sure her lips have split into a wicked grin. “Just warming our girl up,” she drawls, hand snaking again beneath your skirts; between your thighs.

Utter mortification paralyses your body as her fingers slip through your wetness, pulling away as she shows the High Lord how you’ve slicked her fingers. He cocks his head, a gleam in those violent eyes, a hellish smirk curving the edges of his mouth. He moves forward, lethally quiet, until he’s just before the table. Then he’s raising his High Lady’s fingers to his mouth, lapping at the slick coating them. Your mouth drops open at the act, petrified to your spot as his eyes flick to your own, a sinful grin glittering over his mouth.

His hand grips your jaw, tugging you against the table as his nails bite into your cheeks, “want to know how you taste, little lynx?” You don’t have time to protest as he lowers his mouth to yours, tongue licking and lapping over and into you as his teeth nip at your lower lip, dragging in it. He shoves his way inside, dominating in a way only possible for those born into terrifying power, and you can taste the distinctive flavour of arousal coating his tongue. “Like that?” He drawls, noting the hot flush on your cheeks.

You’re hardly able to speak as Feyre’s mouth opens over your neck, making you gasp, ravishing the sensitive skin. The High Lord chuckles, grip tightening to bruising as silver lines your eyes from his pain and her pleasure. “I think this punishment is rather fitting, wouldn’t you agree?” He drawls, continuing as if his High Lady’s hand isn’t snaking between your thighs again.

When her fingers land on your clit, you squeeze your eyes shut, desperate to not yield to either of them. The air shifts in the room, becoming heavier; denser. He’s not pleased with your refusal to answer.

The High Lord’s hand leaves your jaw, dropping to attend to himself as he unties the constrictions of his fine clothing. Behind you, Feyre’s dragging down your spine, slowly returning to her original placement. She pushes the fabric of your underwear to the side and you squeak. At the sound, their arousal becomes more prominent to you, invading your senses entirely as she presses her mouth to your inner thigh; teasing.

“Why are you doing this?” You pant, hating how breathless you sounds as you look up at the High Lord from beneath a narrowed brow. He grins maliciously, “because it’s our right. We rule over you. You are part of our property and have no say over what we do to you,” he drawls, one hand fisting in your hair, “isn’t that right, Feyre darling?” At his address, Feyre laughs, finally pressing her mouth over your pussy, enveloping you in the hot, wetness of her mouth.

The High Lord’s brutal touch strengthens as he feels you slipping away, “seems you’re enjoying my lady’s mouth,” he croons, applying a sudden pressure to lower you to the table, bringing you to level with his hips, “shall we see if you can keep up with her?”

You watch in horror - and with almost painful arousal - as he forces your mouth to his cock, pressing the tip just beneath the curve of your lips. “You can choose to do this of your own volition, or you can refuse, and have one of us slip into your mind to open up that pretty mouth,” he grins as a milky sheen wets your lower lip, the slit in his head beading with precum. “So which will it be? Because neither of us are stopping until you learn how to submit.”

Anger and arousal twine together sinfully in your lower belly, both simmering until you can’t differentiate between the two. Your upper lips curls into a snarl, “fuck. You,” you spit. Feyre nips at your clit, a small warning from her end that makes you wince. The High Lord’s grin widens and you can feel the blood drain from your face as dark, glittering talons scratch at your mind, piercing through until he has a firm leash on you.

You’re practically kicked out of your body, shoved to the forefront of your mind so you can only watch and feel as your mouth open, tongue resting on your lower lip as you drag from root to tip. Seconds later you feel a second presence filling your mind, pressing into every space available as the two occupy you.

You deliver small laps to the slit in his head, a groan coming from above you as he forces you through the movements of what he likes. Your nails dig into the table at the insane pressure filling your mind, as thought your skull will split open. Their presences retreat, leaving you grasping at the space of your own mind, returning to your body. ‘The next time you disobey we won’t be so kind.’ The High lord’s voice echoes through you, threat dripping from his words as he jerks at your hair, commanding you to meet his gaze. ‘Now,’ he drawls, grin growing wider, ‘open that mouth for me.’

Shame swarms your body, crawling beneath your skin as violet eyes watch as you part your lips, just as he asked. ‘That’s it,’ he goads, ‘keep behaving and this’ll be over in no time at all.’ The deceptive lilt to his voice tells you he’s lying through his teeth, putting that silver-tipped tongue to work.

‘Let me see, Rhys.’ The High Lady’s voice echoes through your mind, her tongue continuing to lap at your entrance. Her mouth drops down to your clit, oscillating nimbly over and over as the pleasure builds. Rhys’s hand tightens in your hair as he guides his cock into the hot, wetness of your mouth, groaning as he feels your tongue sliding with velvety smoothness beneath him.

An image flashes through your mind - courtesy of the High Lord. It’s from his point of view, with your mouth opened, lips poised to wrap over his cock, tongue positioned to cover your teeth as he pushes in. Your eyes are alight with fire, burning with flame as you hold his dominating gaze. Feyre moans loudly at the image, your own cheeks flushing more with the obscenity.

‘Keep working that pretty mouth of yours, little lynx,’ he calls, smirking wickedly as he pushes you further down, making your eyes squeeze shut as they burn. ‘Working so obediently,’ the High Lady drawls into your mind, her words laced with cruel mockery, ‘working so hard to please her High Lord.’

At her words, the sheer degradation, you feel a coil tighten, heat building in your belly. She laughs as she surely feels it, knows what’s happening to your body as a result of their cruel game. You feel yourself reaching your peak, the way Feyre’s swirling her tongue over your clit has you seeing stars. Yet just as you reach that mind fogging high, sharp black talons squeeze your conscious, suspending you in a state of almost.

A whine escapes your throat, crying onto his cock as the pleasure is taken away from you. The encompassing warmth of Feyre’s mouth leaves you as your eyes flick up to meet the cold violet of the High Lord’s. They’re flecked with cruelty yet heat is clearly roiling in their depths. A need for suffering.

‘Beg for it,’ the High Lord commands, and you really consider it. It’s so good. The way her tongue had been working you mercilessly; the way the High Lord had been using your mouth, releasing those delightful pleasures moans. ‘All you have to do is beg, and you can have it,’ he goads, pulling you from his cock. You flush with heat as the threads of saliva trailing from your mouth to him.

“I think she needs more, Rhys,” Feyre purrs, mouth gliding up the ridge of your spine to nestle at the junction of your shoulder and neck, nosing at the sensitive skin, noting the heavy arousal. “I think we should make her go again.” Her words are coated with cruel passion, her hand dipping down to cup your breasts, making you shrink back into her.

She bites at your ear, “don’t pretend you don’t like it, little traitor. You’re the one on the verge of begging for my mouth.” A soft moan claws its way from your throat as her thumbs graze roughly over your nipples. She looks up at her mate, “I think that’s a yes, don’t you?”

Your eyes widen marginally, turning to look at her as you try to shake your head but her hands are already grasping your hips, pulling you up against her and spinning you around, pinning you against the table. Then her mouth’s on yours, her hands snaking beneath your thighs as she shoves you up onto the table, settling herself between your spread legs as she devours you. Her hands slope down your spine and settle on the swell of your ass while your nails dig into the table in shock at the flavour of yourself on her tongue. So overwhelming.

Behind you, the High Lord groans at the sight. ‘Enjoying, High Lord?’ Feyre drawls, that taunting lilt returning to her voice. ‘It’s not kind to keep her all to yourself, darling.’ Then large, rough hands are gripping your shoulders, pulling you away from her mouth and slamming your back down onto the table, the High Lord grinning down at you as he shoots you an image.

It’s of you, as your are: lips swollen and puffy, glossy with saliva and cum while silver lines your eyes, hazy arousal dancing in their depths while your hair’s haphazardly strewn about. You look completely done for already.

A flush glows over your cheeks as you move to wipe your lips but shadows restrain you. While they’re at it, the loop beneath your thighs, pulling them up so your spread out perfectly for Feyre to daintily tap your clit, repeatedly. This time you do whine, attempting to close your legs at the sensitivity, your back arching.

She leans over you, fingers still perched atop the sensitive bud, “but you were so desperate for my touch moments ago.” She cocks her head, “what happened? Did you get cold feet?” Her thumb presses down on your clog and you shriek, legs attempting to curl beneath her to push away but you can’t. “Stop,” you cry, her thumb oscillating sharply at the sound.

The High Lady pulls away and you watch warily as they move.

Your stomach drops when the switch places.

The High Lord’s hands land roughly on your inner thighs, spreading you further apart, his cock gliding through your messy wetness, bumping your puffy clit. A moan crawls from your throat. Then Feyre’s crawling onto the table, swinging a leg over you as you’re met with her glossy heat, slick coating her thighs as she settles on top of you, just out of reach of your mouth. “Remember, this can end any time you want. All you have to do is plead,” she purrs from above you before she’s spreading her thighs wider, settling down on your face, wetness coating you instantly. She moans loudly, unabashedly, at the feeling, already winding her hips gently.

Between your legs you feel the High Lord shift, his thumb coming to brush over your clit as his tip presses against your entrance, one hand bracing your hip as he pushes in. Your back curves as he stretches you full, delicious, solid warmth pushing at you from within. A moan flies from your mouth and your can’t resist as one of them buries into your mind, forcing your tongue to start moving.

At some point, they leave, but you’re moving on your own, hands latching over the sweep of Feyre’s hips, lapping at the wetness between her thighs, desperate to have her coating your tongue. She moans, hips bucking as they wind over your mouth. Rhys’ thumb speeds up to a pleasurable pace and already that euphoria is building, returning to its original strength as he begins pounding into you.

Moans and groans are falling from your mouths, filling your bed chambers as they use you as they please.

Again, you hit your peak, and again, glittering talons squeeze at your mind, suspending you while they continue their ministrations. Your nails dig into Feyre’s hips but she only moans, grinding against your face more, dying for your tongue to unravel her as she practically fucks herself on you.

The High Lord uses both his hands to bite into your hips, pounding into you while slamming your hips back to meet his, throwing you effortlessly into overstimulation without giving you the overwhelming pleasure to ride it out. It’s just too much.

Your back arches, toes curl, your body automatically bracing to be thrown over the edge yet it never comes. They’re keeping you right on the edge, an ounce of pleasure more and you’d be free falling but you’re kept in your place: beneath them.

Tears spill down your cheeks when you feel Feyre’s finger glide between your thighs, playing with your clit. It’s so much but you can’t give into them. No matter what hel they put you through. No matter how much you enjoy it.

You yelp when Feyre pulls her hand away, tapping your clit harshly, your whole body jerking at the sensitivity. ‘Stop, please,’ you beg across that channel but she continues. ‘Beg for your pleasure. Beg for us to give it to you. It’s ours to decide what to do with,’ Feyre growls into your mind, fingers soothing over the stinging skin.

‘You’re being soft on her,’ a voice snarls, soaked in sin as you feel her hand being pulled away, enough for a moment of relief. ‘Let me.’ His hand smacks down between your legs and you scream, muscles tearing at the darkness binding your legs as pain sings through your body.

He doesn’t stop after just one, he keep going, barely giving you a few seconds to recover before his hand is smacking back down, each one harder and more painful than the last. ‘Fucking beg for me to stop. Try it.’ He taunts, your nails slicing into his mate as she moans louder.

‘Please, stop.’

‘You can better than that.’ He growls.

‘I can’t!’ You cry, ‘please! Please just stop! I can’t do this!’ The stinging stops, and you nearly cry again with relief as Feyre shifts above you.

Rhys sends an image down the line: Feyre sat atop your mouth, his cock pounding into you, his High Lady leaning over as saliva drops from her mouth to perch atop your clit, her fingers rubbing soothingly over your tender sex. ‘Come on, pretty liar,’ she goads, sweetly; menacingly, ‘beg your High Lord and Lady for pleasure.’ You manage to hold back, using the entirety of your will power - what’s left of it - to refuse.

Across the bond, you watch as she grins, ‘unless you want me to let Rhys have his way with you?’ She pulls away, and you feel it as he raises his hand, preparing to smack down.

‘Please!’ You cry out, halting his movements. ‘Please, I’m begging, please don’t. Please give it to me!’ Tears roll down your cheeks as Feyre moans above you, riding your tongue as her high approaches. The High Lord laughs darkly, hands returning to your hips to slam you back against him.

‘Uh-huh? You want us to give you some pleasure? You’re sorry for even thinking about disobeying us?’ The words are painted with malevolence, lethal threat lying beneath them. ‘I’m sorry,’ you plead, ‘I’ll never think like that again. Just please let me go.’

The talons that had been holding you pull free, pleasure erupting across your skin, flooding your senses as your nerves are set alight, practically glowing with euphoria. You feel Feyre’s heat fluttering above you as she comes on your tongue, releasing herself onto you. The High Lord continues pounding into you, seemingly harder, chasing that high until he’s spilling inside of you, hot cum filling you to the brim as your back arches, nipples peaking.

Your mind takes a while to clear, muscles spasming with the force of your pleasure, after so long of being suspended on that edge.

The High Lady’s fingers have returned to your clit, rubbing soothingly as she raises her hips from you. Your tongue laps over your mouth, tasting her release, revelling in her flavour. ‘Look at you,’ she taunts, peering between her legs, ‘so good. So fucked out.’

Her gaze lifts to her mates, ‘do you really think she meant that?’ The line in clear, a hellish grin dancing over the High Lord’s mouth as his eyes flick down to you, hands tightening on your thigh.

‘I think we should make sure,’ he drawls and you feel as he hardens against your already sensitive walls.

‘Make sure she knows who she serves.’

#poly!Feysand #Feysand x reader #[***] #Feysand smut #Feysand x reader smut #a court of nightmares #a court of nightmares! Feysand smut

[azsazz]

An Unquenchable Hunger

Rhysand x Feyre x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Poly!feysand anon, back with a few ideas: Tied up and helpless on the dining room table and dripping, a feast for the High Lord while she rides your face.

Warnings: Smut! Nsfw, threesome.

Word Count: 2,461

_________________________________________

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cry, trembling thighs clenching around Rhys’ head as he works you through a mind blowing orgasm.

Feyre’s nimble fingers keep plunging inside of you as the High Lord sucks on your sensitive clit, his hums sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body as you desperately try to push him off. Your fingers end up twisting in his silky onyx hair, each flick of his tongue causing your body to spasm on the table.

Guests would be arriving soon for the Starfall celebrations. You’d been standing up on a dining room chair hanging one of the last pieces of garland when you’d been grabbed from behind, Rhysand whispering sensually against your neck as he assaulted you with kisses, muttering something about how you’d been taunting them with your ass on display as you shimmied along to the song you were humming.

You’d caught Feyre’s equally hungry gaze from where she stood in the doorway, licking her frosting-covered hands lewdly, earning her a moan for her efforts. Her skilled fingers were for more than just painting, her creative abilities made it easy to decorate the sugar cookies the twin wraiths had baked earlier in the day, and now, as they worked you while her mate licked you, you were more than thankful for her talents.

Rhys had laid you on the set table, ready for the arrival of the Inner Circle, hastily shoving the delicate plates and cups away, clattering into each other and off the side of the table with a crash. You couldn’t seem to see reason through your lust fuelled haze, the table had been set perfectly for your friends, whom you’d all share supper with before the rest of the partygoers arrived for desserts, dancing, and the colorful display of stars shooting through the night sky.

Though you weren’t sure you’d be able to think about anything else other than what was happening at this very table for many weeks to come.

He made quick work of removing your clothes, violet eyes hungry for something other than the delicious dinner he knew was to come. Rhys was eager for dessert, the first taste of your sweet cunt spurring him on, his cock achingly hard and leaking at the tip, trapped against his leg in his trousers.

Feyre had crossed the room quickly, eager to join in, eyes locked on where her mate was tasting you. She wasted no time sinking her spit covered fingers around his mouth and into your soaking hole, her other hand palming your bare breast Rhys had left open for her.

Your chest heaves as you gasp for air, head dizzy from the orgasm they’d made last as long as they could.

“Please,” you pant, but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. Feyre’s fingers are still moving inside of you, curling and rubbing in all of the right places. Her gray eyes are dark with lust, and Rhy’s free hand snakes up the back of her skirts, caressing her through her undergarments as he watches her work you.

You grasp on to the bunched up cloth of Feyre’s dress, tugging her weakly to you.

“Kiss me High Lady,” you beg breathlessly. The way that she’s staring down at you like she owns you sends shivers up your spine. The end of your plea slips into a loud moan as she curls her fingers inside of you, “Please.”

Your High Lady obliges, leaning down right as Rhys slips his fingers inside of her. She falters, humming loudly in bliss before she continues on her path, latching onto your exposed breast and teasing your tight nipple with a swirl of her tongue, a graze of her teeth.

You whimper your frustration. That wasn’t what you meant, and by the smug look in her gleaming eyes as she slowly pulls off of you, blowing on the wet bud with amusement, she knows it too.

Your back arches beautifully off of the table at the sensation. Her cold breath is both torture and bliss.

“You didn’t specify where you wanted me to kiss you,” she puffs blissfully, grinding down onto Rhysand’s fingers. She’s just as wet as you are, loves the way your pretty little cunt convulses around her fingers as she works, loves that she makes you feel this way.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Rhys,” you pant, squirming as she slides her slick fingers out and up against your clit, playing with the sensitive bud. Your head hits the table harshly as you throw it back but you don’t care, the sharp pain feels as incredible as Feyre does right now, and you wonder for a moment how she got so good at this.

“Perhaps we need a night to ourselves,” she agrees, much to the dismay of her mate. Feyre ducks in for a kiss while she rides Rhys’ fingers, who’d thought of stopping to tease her when the two of you had agreed on a night without him, but he knew that doing so would only solidify her decision.

Your stomach coils at her suggestion.

“You’re going to get it for that one,” Rhys growls, though the image of you and his mate rolling around in the sheets together while he watches isn’t something he’d ever fucking turn down.

You and Feyre moan into each other's mouths at the picture Rhy’s places in your heads. The two of you as you are now, you fisting her hair in your hands while she fucks back into you with as many fingers as she can fit, all while Rhys fucks into her with his own.

He’s so achingly hard from the taste of you lingering on his tongue, from the way Feyre’s grinding his fingers like it’s his fucking cock, her delicious juices sliding down his wrist as she fucks down on him.

He considers himself the luckiest male in all of Prythian.

“Would you like me to finish you off with my tongue, Feyre darling?” he scissors his fingers and she keens against your mouth, drawing her attention to him. Gods, he nearly cums right there, seeing the both of your blown out pupils and bruised red lips.

“No,” she gasps at a particularly delicious twist of his fingers, “I want (Y/N) to.”

Holy fucking Gods. You have absolutely no problem with that.

Rhys releases an aroused curse at her request that sends shivers up your spine. Apparently the High Lord has no qualms about it either.

Feyre’s watching you as you take her hand gently in your own, tugging her that much closer to press a warm kiss to the palm of her hand.

“Come here, High Lady,” you drawl, eager to get a taste of her.

Rhys helps rid Feyre of her scandalous dress, the silky midnight fabric falling around her curvaceous body like water, pooling at her feet. Rhys helps her up onto the table where she straddles you, caging you in with one hand planted on either side of your head as he lowers down for another kiss.

There are hands everywhere, yours sliding down the smooth skin of her sides, skimming over her puckered nipples and she gasps into your mouth. Her hips grind down against yours, drawing an eager noise from the both of you. It’s so incredibly hot, so pleasurable just to be with her like this, bodies writhing together, you might cum again already.

She pulls away with a gasp that melts into a moan, your noses jutting together as she jumps, only for her forehead to press against yours as she pants into your mouth while Rhysand gets a taste of her cunt before you do.

He couldn’t help himself. He’s a greedy High Lord and with two beautiful females naked on his dining room table, ready for him to feast upon…he’d obliterate anyone who tried to stop him.

Rhys is lapping at her drenched cunt and you snake your way down her spine, grabbing a handful of her plump ass, spreading her wider for Rhysand.

Feyre’s hand slides between your bodies, threading through your folds and finding your clit, rubbing furious circles around the sensitive bud, causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Your hand slides closer to the crevice of her ass, tentatively circling her rim, a barely there brush of your fingers that has the arm propping her up gives out and she collapses on top of you.

“Please,” she’s begging in your ear, and you know she wants it, wants you to keep going, but she wants you to taste her more. There’s a promise in her plea, that there will be a next time and you both will get to explore so much more.

You urge her upwards with a pull to her hips and she follows, docile from the near orgasm she’d just experienced from you and her mate.

You kiss every inch of her body as she moves up, her collarbones, her breasts, her stomach, all the down until you’re met with her tight and dripping cunt.

You can’t help yourself, lifting your head. You take your first taste, only a flicker of the tip of your tongue against the slick walls of her inner thigh. You could’ve gone straight inside of her or suckled on her clit but you chose not to, reveling in the way that she shudders at the feeling and her sweet taste.

Rhy’s hands settle on your hips and you jolt as he slides his cock through your folds, wetting his cock with your slick. You moan, digging your nails into the soft skin of Feyre’s ass because of the warm and welcome weight against your cunt, your stomach coiling with need already. You urge your High Lady to turn around so that she can look at Rhys, maybe kiss a little if they want.

She does as you suggest, settling on her knees on either side of your head, your hands massaging the soft skin of her hips, gliding to the tops and settling there for now.

Her and Rhys must’ve had some sort of signal because she’s sinking down onto your face while he plunges his cock right into your tight cunt. You gasp against Feyre, losing your bearings for a moment before you quickly react, hooking a leg around Rhys’ waist while you suck your High Lady’s clit into your mouth, humming with pleasure.

Feyre wastes no time, riding your face like a true commander, taking what she wants. You can’t get enough of her intoxicating taste, like cherries and the first snow of the season, swirling your tongue and slurping up her slick.

Rhy’s is taking no prisoners, fucking into you with abandon. You hear his voice ring in your head, a strained grunt that the other members of the Inner Circle will be arriving soon, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck if they walked in right now with their High Lady sitting on your face and their High Lord jackknifing into you because this surely is heaven.

Feyre leans forward, reaching out to her mate for a sensual kiss. She kneads at one of your breasts while Rhy’s takes one of hers, tweaking her nipple. You’re forced to follow as she shifts forward, lifting your head from the table and following her delicious cunt, wrapping your arms around her waist so she doesn’t go far.

The noises the three of you are making are lewd. The table is shaking with all of the movement, dishes still set at the end of the long table clattering against each other like there’s an earthquake, and there might just be because you feel like you’re about to shatter.

With one arm still tucked across her waist you let your free hand round her ass, and you press your thumb against her hole while you thrust your tongue into her cunt, loving the way that she clenches down on you with a keen of pleasure.

Rhys latches onto her nipple, sucking and teething at the taut flesh greedily. His hands are a bruising grip at your waist and you moan at the fact that you’ll be donning his fingerprints beneath your dress.

Feyre’s nearing the edge, you can tell because she’s leaning back, rocking even faster against your face. You’re nearing your edge too, when Rhys flicks and twists at your swollen nipples, lathing over one with his hot tongue as his other hand slides down to your cunt, fingers slipping through your folds to rub furiously at your clit.

You couldn’t pull your walls up if you tried, and that’s how Rhysand gets into your head so quickly, a purr of pleasure because they’re everywhere, physically and mentally.

See how good the both of you look? He groans, and you know he’s in Feyre’s head too because the noise she makes rattles you to your bones. 

He sends the image from his point of view, a live play-by-play of you and his mate. Feyre rutting against your mouth, her head thrown back in pleasure, mouth hanging open while she teases her breasts.

You can see the way your tits bounce with every single one of Rhysand’s thrusts, up past those to the column of your throat, face buried in your High Lady’s cunt, back arching up off of the table in bliss.

And fuck, with everything now combined, the feeling of them both on you, the sounds their making, Feyre’s taste, and the mental image…it’s nearly too much. You topple over the edge into oblivion, latching onto Feyre’s clit with a moan meant to rattle the entire house, pulling her over the edge with you.

She lets out a sharp cry and then she’s shaking on top of you. You let her take control, riding through her orgasm, grinding harshly on your face as you caress and grab at her soft skin, in a state of euphoria yourself.

You hear Rhys curse. His thrusts become frenzied and he holds you tighter, fucking into you harsher, enjoying the sight and feelings, your tight cunt wrapped around his cock, convulsing with your orgasm, and the blissful emotions Feyre’s sending down the bond.

He doesn’t last much longer, pulling out and getting a hand around himself, milking the cum from his cock as he spurts hot across your abdomen.

You enjoy every second of it, his seed sullying your skin like Feyre’s had your face. There’s no way you’ll make it to dinner on time, you’re going to have to bathe and have your hair redone before even thinking about meeting your friends for the meal, although right now you couldn’t care less, knowing they’ll probably scent it as soon as they enter the house anyway.

This is the best meal you’ve ever had.

#rhys x reader #feyre x reader #feysand x reader #rhys x feyre x reader #poly!feysand #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azsazz

[polyacotarweek]

Hi!

Do you have any longer poly!fic recommendations? Either all canon characters or a ship x reader

I’m currently reading Our Girl and Sand and tbh I need more 😩

Hello Anon!!

I do have a few recommendations for you actually! These are all WIPs from what I can tell.

"Threads of Fate" by @whisperingmidnights is poly!BatBoys X female reader: Act 1, Chapter 1

"Chasing Starlight" by @whisperingmidnights is poly!Feysand X female reader: Chapter 1

I have not read much of either yet but that parts I have read have me VERY EXCITED LEMME TELL YA.

Now, a personal favorite fic of mine that I have reread four times now (yes, four times in full) and that got me interested in ACOTAR poly relationships is "viciousness & intelligence" by @thesistersarcheron (miss_belivet on AO3). This nessriel fic is a masterpiece and I love it so much. Read it here on AO3.

I hope that answers your question!! Let's spread some love to these wonderful creators. 🖤

#poly!acotar #poly!batboys #poly!feysand #nessriel #acotar #poly+acotarweek2024 #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian #rhysand #azriel #acotar x reader #feyre archeron #poly+acotarweek anon #poly+acotarweek asks

[nightcourtz]

00. Prologue

pairing: feysand x OC (at some point)

notes: i'm not sure what this is, only that it's something that's been plaguing my thoughts for a while now. bear with me while i get this show on the road...

warnings: mentions of murder, death of a loved one (not detailed), violence

The Void’s footsteps were silent as she made her way through the frigid marble dungeons. At this hour, only she and the mice were awake.

     Their nimble feet scurried along the chilled floor, little teeth nibbling at her boot-clad toes; their bites were like prickly kisses, but she welcomed them, embraced their affection as the dull ache of their teeth sank in with each step she took. She let herself succumb to the familiarity of pain, let herself relish in it the deeper and deeper into the cold she went.

    Her pace was unhurried as she passed the plethora of once-occupied cells reeking of blood and bitter waste. Phantom screams echoed in her ears as she continued down, down, down, but she paid them no mind.

     Each one of the victims, the ones that she had handpicked and captured one by one, was gone now, all of them dead by her hand; and they deserved it, deserved every second, every ounce of the pain she’d subjected them to.

     There was only one more to inflict her wrath upon.

     Atticus Voss.

     The scattered torches lining the walkway flickered as she reached his cell at last.

     He lay there, heavy iron shackles clamped around his too-thin wrists, his bloodied and bruised body limp where he lay in front of his tray of barely touched food. From where she stood, however, she could see that the male was still breathing. His breaths were slow, but still. He was alive.

     She smiled. That was all that mattered, anyway.

     The Void surveyed her victim for a few seconds more as she unlocked the bars of the cell and neared closer.

     “Having fun down here, Atticus?” she baited, her lilting voice penetrating the silent space before her. When he didn’t answer, she nudged his body slightly with her boot, ignoring his pained grunt as she took in the state of his injuries. “If I’m being quite honest, I thought you’d be done for at this point. Our last session was quite… efficient.”

     “Fuck you,” Atticus rasped, and he didn’t waste a single second before spitting at her feet.

     The Void clicked her tongue in distaste. “That’s disgusting, and not very nice. What happened to that Autumn Court charm I’ve heard so much about?” 

     “Oh, just you wait,” he snarled. “Once my High Lord hears about this, he’ll show you real charm. Right after he severs the head from your body.”

     She crouched before him, meeting his eyes through the obscuring mask she wore. “You know,” she whispered, voice low and sinister between the two of them, “your friends said the exact same thing before I killed them all. They all thought Beron was coming to save them, to avenge them. Well… they’re nothing but bones now. And. He’s. Still. Not. Here.”

     Atticus thrashed against his shackles and flared his nostrils, eyes glinting with unbridled rage in the light. “You’re lying.”

     The Void chuckled humorlessly. “I have no need to lie.”

     She reached up, grasping the edges of her mask and setting it on the cold, dank ground beneath her. She then stretched out two hands, her touch gentle on each side of Atticus’s temples.

     Bringing her face down, her dark and empty eyes met his. Her grip had tightened around his head, and his brow furrowed at the stabbing pressure. Long and sharp fingernails dug into the tender flesh until he hissed sharply and tried to yank his head away.

     The Void held firm. 

     She did not break eye contact, nor did she flinch away as his eyes raked over her features in alarm, as his eyes flickered to the mask laying a few feet away and back to her face, a certain familiarity shifting in his gaze at last.

     “You’re…” he whispered, voice trembling slightly, “you’re his daughter, aren’t you? Symeon Bloodsmith’s daughter. You have his eyes.”

     The Void bared her teeth in a menacing smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners in wicked delight, and nodded slowly. Kept nodding as she murmured, “Yes, I was. But you killed him, and now you must die.”

     And before Atticus could respond, before he could start begging for the Mother’s mercy, The Void tightened her grip on his head and splattered it against the cell wall.

     She sat there for a moment afterward, watching as his blood and brains trickled like a stream down the gray stone. Watching as a puddle of dark red pooled around his battered and twitching body.

     She pulled out a soft cloth from her pocket and dabbed at her bloodstained face with mute resignation, grabbing her mask when she deemed herself clean enough.

     Turning on her heel, she made her way back to the entrance. Up, up, up, she went, leaving the rest of his body for the mice to eat.

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #feysand x reader #feyre x reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x feyre x reader #poly!feysand #❀ maren writes

[gothicbabydollz]

Thinking about how it would be if you were in a relationship with feyre and Rhys. I think he's a pleasure Dom and he would def get off on watching you and feyre. He would have you tied to the bed, feyre on top of you, and have you two eat each other out for hours while he watches. But I feel like he'd turn it into a competition too, whoever makes the other cum faster gets fucked. So lets say Feyre makes you cum, you just can't hold it. Rhys would fuck her and make you watch and then if you were good during it, he'd let you lick his cum out of her while he plays with your clit.

-♓️

omg yes. i couldn’t have said it any better, this is poly!feysand at its finest 🤌

#nonnies ❥ #feysand #poly!feysand #rhys smut #feyre smut

[danikamariewrites]

I absolutely adore and love your housewife Feysand series, it’s so good rishshdkdbdkck

I propose an idea, even though reader is usually always at home/Velaris, what if they got kidnapped??? And reader gets injured and Feysand go INSANE trying to find them and it’s just angsty hehehehehe BONUS POINTS if it’s just fluff and overprotective central once they rescue and find reader

Gone Girl

Feysand x reader

A/n: thank you anon! I love this little series and I’m so glad others are enjoying it

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, injuries, eventual fluff

As Feyre walked home, hand in hand with Nyx, she couldn’t help but go over today’s events. She hadn’t seen you since this morning. Which isn’t unusual but occasionally you’d pop in to say to her and Rhys while they worked.

Maybe your brunch with Mor had run longer than you thought it would? But you would’ve let them know you weren’t going to pick Nyx up from school. You always pick Nyx up from school.

As the pair entered the house Feyre saw Mor pacing in the living room. Worry on her face as she bit at her perfect nails.

Feyre crouched down in front of Nyx, giving the sweet boy a small smile. “Uncle Cass is in the kitchen, go ask him to help you with your after school snack.” The boy nodded excitedly, his floppy black hair swishing with his movements. “Ok mommy.” He gave Feyre a quick kiss on the cheek before running off to get the most unhealthy snack his uncle could find him.

Making her way over to Mor, Feyre tilted her head curiously. She took Mor’s hands before asking, “What is it?” “Y/n didn’t come to brunch. I haven’t seen her all day.” Feyre’s heart sank into her stomach. A moment later Azriel came bursting through the front door like a mad man. His shadows frantic as he yelled for his brother. “Rhys! Rhys we have a problem!”

Before Azriel could make his way up the stairs Feyre winnowed in front of him. Her hands pushed against his chest as the sapphire siphons flared, the only annoyance he showed at being bared from Rhys. When he realized Feyre was in front of Azriel pulled his High Lady up the stairs to the High Lords office.

Rhys jumped up from his chair as Azriel slammed the door. His still panicked demeanor scaring the pair. “Azriel what’s going on?” Feyre asked desperately. The spymaster got right to the point. “Y/n has been taken. A rival camp to Windhaven has reported rogue members, they think the group of males took her. A few of my spies noticed them in the city not well disguised.”

Feyre let out a cry, covering her mouth. Silver lined her eyes as Rhys held her up. He pressed his face to her head giving her a small, reassuring kiss. Rhys took a deep breath. “Do you know where she is?” Rhys asked darkly. Azriel was sure everyone in the house could feel the dark power emanating from the High Lord. “I will soon.” Azriel quickly left before the moment could turn personal. Giving the couple space.

Hours later Azriel reported that the four males had taken you to an abandoned village at the edge of the mountains. It was the dead of winter, you must be freezing. That made Rhys and Feyre even angrier. You were raised in the Summer Court you can’t handle the cold of Illyria.

Rhys didn’t want this done quietly. He wanted to make his presence known. These moronic males took what was the High Lord and Lady’s and they would pay dearly for it.

Winnowing to the center of the abandoned village Rhys, Feyre, Az, Cass, and Mor stood back to back in a circle. Weapons raised, their eyes scanned the dilapidated homes. Wind and snow whipped around the group making in almost impossible to see their surroundings. Azriel sent his shadows out in all directions. Minutes later one returned swirling frantically as it relayed information to its master. He whistled and nodded in the direction the shadow came from.

Rhys and Feyre were the first to move. As they walked ahead the raging snow storm seemed to part for them. Like it was afraid of their wrath.

——

The cabin was freezing. Your body was aching from shivering for hours on end. You try to pull at the ropes around your wrists but your arms were too weak to move. It felt like you were frozen in place.

The four males that had taken you from Velaris were huddled near the front door. Now that they weren’t looking you allowed yourself to wince at the pain rushing through your right cheek. One of the males had backhanded you so hard it left a large bruise and cut from just below your temple to your cheek.

You hadn’t said a single word to them when you came to. You just sat slightly slumped in the rickety chair they tied you to. You kept your face blank, not giving them the satisfaction of a reaction or screaming and pleading with them.

When you had first woken up you tried to reach out to Rhys and Feyre. They were too far so your connection to them was nonexistent. You had prayed to the Mother that your friends and family noticed you missing. Prayed that Mor thought it was weird you didn’t show up to brunch. And Nyx! Poor Nyx must’ve been so sad when you didn’t pick him up from school.

Tears started to blur your vision as you thought about your little boy. Would you ever see him again?

Before the sob building in your throat could leave your lips the sound of the front door splintering filled your ears. You ducked your head, hissing at how stiff your neck felt.

You didn’t have to look at who was beating your captors. You could feel their presence. You’d know them anywhere.

Screwing your eyes shut you waited for the chaos to be over. You heard snow and wood crunch under extra footsteps as the males are hauled away.

A warm hand caresses your unharmed cheek. “Y/n,” a small voice says tentatively. You slowly look up at your loves. The tears you were trying to hold back falling as you give them a tight lipped smile. “You came.” Your voice raspy from not being used. “Of course we did.” Rhys said, kneeling in front of you.

With a snap of his fingers you were free from the ropes. You slipped off the chair into Rhys’s embrace. He held your shivering body tight as Feyre winnowed the three of you back to the River House. Madja was waiting upstairs in the bedroom with an apprentice to check you over.

Once she was done you slept for hours. You were still trembling from the cold which Madja had informed them was normal. You should be fine by morning as long as the fire kept going. Feyre sat with you first while Rhys went to be with Nyx.

Nyx had begged his father to see you. The little boy didn’t understand why they brought you home in tears. He kept trying to sneak away from Rhys so he could see you. “I just want to cuddle with mom!” He had yelled and stomped when he was told no.

Rhys and Feyre had switched before Nyx’s bedtime. When Feyre came downstairs Nyx was sitting on the couch, a devious look on his face with his arms crossed. Feyre copied her son with a small chuckle as she faced him down. “I’m not going to bed until I see mom.”

She sat next to him with a sigh. “You’re not seeing mom tonight, baby.” Nyx let out a little hmph and leaned back. His little wings flaring behind him. By nine he was passed out and moved to his own bed.

——

Blinking your eyes open the bright morning sun caught you off guard. You thought it was nighttime. You slowly sit up against the headboard rolling out your stiff joints. Looking around you see Feyre and Rhys asleep leaning on each other at the end of the bed.

You tug on the duvet hard enough to wake them and they jolt whipping their heads around. You cover your mouth to stifle your laugh. Their eyes snap to you and relief floods their faces. They scramble to sit on either side of you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Sweetheart we were so worried.” “Are you ok? Do you need anything? Water, food, anything?” They continued their onslaught of questions until you pulled away from them.

“I’m fine. Maybe some breakfast and water. But I feel fine.” Rhys looked at you with an assessing gaze. “You’re sure?” You nod at him with a small smile. “I’ll get you some food.” Rhys gives you a kiss before leaving. You turn to look at Feyre.

She stares at you with watery eyes. Her finger gently traces around your cut. You could see the hurt in her eyes. She felt guilty for not getting to you sooner. You grabbed her hand kissing her fingers softly. “I love you, so much.” She whispered. “I love you too. Thank you, for coming to rescue me.” Feyre leaned her forehead against yours. “I’d burn down the world to find you.” Her warm lips pressed against yours in a soft kiss.

When Rhys came back Nyx was following him, holding back his excitement to see you. Before climbing on the bed he gave his father a look that asked for permission. As soon as Rhys nodded Nyx climbed up on the bed snuggling into your chest.

You felt Rhys caress your mental shields before letting him in. “Feyre meant it. We’d burn the world down if it meant you were safe in our arms.” “I know Rhys. And I love you both for it.” “You know you’re never leaving our sight again, right?” You mentally and physically roll your eyes at him. It was going to be a long time before you left the house without an escort soon.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #feysand x reader #feysand #poly!feysand x you #poly!feysand x reader #poly!feysand #rhysand fanfic #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand imagine #acotar rhysand #feyre x rhysand #feyre acotar #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #high lady feyre #feyre x you #Feyre imagine

[throneofsapphics]

taking a vacation with feysand and/or nessian

poly!feysand x reader & poly!nessian x reader

summary: for poly!acotar week day 4, adventure

warnings: none, very brief suggestiveness

a/n: look ... I messed up the dates and it might be barely but I still made it. here's some drabbles/ headcannons!

poly!Nessian x Reader

Perhaps surprisingly, Cassian insisted on planning it all as well as keeping it a surprise. Normally, he’d give in to either of you with enough pestering, but this time he was an iron wall, not a single clue or hint given to either of you. 

He pinched his thumb and forefinger together before drawing them across his lips, even miming tossing a key over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile crept on to your lips.  “What if I promise not to tell Nes?” He snorted, and you lifted and dropped your shoulders. It was worth a try - but they both knew you were terrible at keeping secrets from either of them.  "It was worth a shot," you mumbled, redirecting your attention to the book on your lap. A shadow covered you, two fingers tilting your chin up. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, chapped lips lingering for a few seconds. "It'll be worth the wait," he reassured, confidence flowing through every word, not a hint of bullshit. Your eyes narrowed, but you gave a nod. Seemingly content, Cassian placed a too-brief kiss to your lips before making his way out of the room.

Nesta was a tad anxious over how his planning would turn out 

“It’s not if it’ll be a disaster, it’s how much of a disaster.”  “Have a little more faith in him,” you chastised, quickly looking away as she turned her glare on you.  “We don’t get much … time free together,” Nesta sighed, and you carefully covered her hand with your own. “I want everything to go well.”  “We’ll be together,” you insisted. “That’s good enough for me.”  Her mouth curved at one corner, a grateful look shot your way, her hand turning up so your palms met, her fingers wrapping around yours and squeezing. 

Cassian was impressed with himself, and firmly believed he had every right to be. He hoped both of you would as well. Mother above, he’d sworn an oath to Tarquin for this. 

“The blindfold is a little extreme,” you grumbled, fidgeting with the cloth knot at the back of your head. Cassian gently swatted your hand down.  “We’re almost there.”  Nesta was quiet next to you, her hand steady in yours, but you could nearly taste the anxious energy rolling from her. You gave her what you hoped was a comforting squeeze.  Salt, and sea, and sand hit you at once, along with a scent distinct to one place …  The knot loosened at the back of your head and you tore the cloth off, rapidly taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in Adriata, but it was unmistakably the summer court.  “Cassian,” you hissed, “you’re banned, for life.”  “I promise we’re fine,” he grinned, and produced a paper from his pocket, holding it out to you with a flourish. Nesta peered over your shoulder as you carefully unraveled it. A letter - attesting Cassian and company were allowed to access this beach and a rental vacation home for the next seven days, signed by Tarquin himself. 

poly!Feysand x Reader

Feyre and Rhys argued over where to take you - in their minds, of course. It seemed the only thing they could agree on was to keep it a surprise. You watched them, eyes glazed, but lips pursed - obviously in some kind of mental argument with each other. A crease formed between Feyre's brow, Rhys's lips pressing into a tight line. You didn't like that. Especially considering you were nearly certain it was related to you somehow, otherwise they would've spoken aloud. Clearing your throat, you tried your best to get their attention. Nothing. "Right, I'm heading out," you finally called. Still no response. The sting and small sense of hurt came naturally, and you let the door slam behind you a little louder than you usually would. Rhys's muffled voice came after the slam but you were already out the door. "I'll make it up to you later, darling," Rhys's voice slid into your mind, smooth and full of promise. "I'll look forward to it," you didn't know if it was possible for your voice to be breathy in your own head, but you certainly gave your best impression of it.

Feyre packed for you, of course.

You perched on the edge of the bed as Feyre started rummaging through the drawers. First, she picked up a sundress with thin straps and flowing fabric that would just brush the middle of your thighs - ideal for hot weather. Next came a thick woolen cloak. You tilted your head, catching her eye in the mirror. "How many places are we going?" "Oh," she carefully folded a long sleeved shirt, "just one." Your mouth parted, but she answered the next question for you. "We can't have you spoiling the surprise." A laugh bubbled from your chest. Their secrecy had only made you more determined in turn, and it turned into something of a game for you over the last week.

Rhys had scouted the location no less than six times in the week before, Feyre accompanying him for a few of the trips. He knew it was safe, but with you he had to be certain.

Your back pressed against his chest, his hand covering your eyes, you winnowed - holding your breath at the sensation that never quite felt comfortable. As soon as you hit solid ground, you attempted to peel his fingers away from your eyes, but his grip was firm. "Rhys," you hissed, and he laughed but released you. Jaw dropping, you spun in a circle. Feyre stood with her hands clasped in front of her, shifting back and forth. An island. "Where," you cleared your throat, "where are we?" "An island not far off the coast," Rhys wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly turning you. You felt Feyre smooth fingers grasp your other hand, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Rhys was still speaking, you realized and focused back in. "You can see Velaris," his voice was laced with a touch of amusement that told you he was well aware your attention wandered. Sure enough, there was a cluster of lights, but appearing barely larger than your fingertip. Twisting your head over a shoulder, you spotted the ... cabin was an understatement. Mini-palace waiting for you. Shrugging away from Rhys's grip, switching to grasp his hand instead, you tugged them both forward, their laughter trailing behind you.

#poly+acotarweek2024 #poly!feysand #poly!nessian #acotar drabble #poly!feysand x y/n #poly!feysand x reader #feysand x reader #feysand x y/n #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #nessian x y/n #nessian x reader #rhys x y/n #rhys x reader #feyre archeron x y/n #feyre archeron x reader #rhysand x y/n #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #nesta archeron y/n #nesta archeron x reader

[readychilledwine]

Matching Wounds

Summary - The first High Lord's meeting after the war with Hybern brings some old memories up that Lyria and Rhys would have rather forgotten, leaving their mates to try to patch together wounds they can't see.

Warnings - degrading language, asshole brothers, hinting to PTSD without getting into full signs and symptoms

Prompt - Day 2 - Comfort

A/n - Happy @polyacotarweek! I've been asked about Lyria and Rhysand's dynamic as well as Azriel and Feyre's, and I felt today was a good day to give a preview into it, and into what Olive Branch will focus on, which is the comfort Rhys and Lyria found in each other UTM.

This is a non-sex based swinging dynamic. Rhysand is more of a secondary romantic partner to strictly Lyria, as Azriel is with Feyre, which is vastly different than the relationship we see in Fours Company between Lyria, Az, and Nessian.

💙 Meet Lyria Here 💙

✨️ Poly+ACOTAR Masterlist ✨️

There was a reason Rhysand had promised Lyria she would never attend a High Lord's meeting. She was clinging to him in his bed now as Feyre and Azriel just watched. Heavy sobs had turned into small sniffles as Rhys stared at the wall, eyes lost and hand moving absentmindedly along her exposed spine. 

Feyre had only gotten to see Lyria once under the mountain and now she knew why, “Rhysand's whore,” the term had been spat at her by her own older brother before he did truly spit at her feet. “Rhysand's Whore,” who had been trapped in his room. Wasting her days away in the same style of dresses Feyre wore, sitting on his lap the nights Feyre wasn't. 

It was ironic, really. The four of them, Eris, and Lucien all knew Rhysand never touched Lyria, never laid a finger on her skin until they had agreed to this, yet to the outside world, Rhys had already had her in ways Lyria had never experienced. 

Feyre knew from the bond that Rhysand was lost in his own mind as well. Lost in the regret he felt. Lost in the images of different red hair, paler skin, and dead eyes. 

“Ideas?” She whispered softly to Azriel. 

“Dinner and leaving them be,” his scarred hand still held Feyre's perfect one. “It's all we can offer them. You and I do not know what happened to them fully. We do not know what brought them together. We just know Rhys refused to be away from her and brought her here once you freed everyone.”

“Do you want to fly to the bakery they love and pick up dinner with me?”

Azriel rose a brow before kissing her tattooed hand. “Of course.”

Rhysand felt himself clinging to Lyria. Clinging to the soft fabric of her dress, clinging in her textured hair, clinging to the scent of her skin. He loves Feyre. Loves her so dearly and completely, but the comfort he found in Lyria was unmatched. 

She had been there during his darkest nights, whispering how she saw him, how she knew him beyond that mask he wore. 

And now she was paying the price for being his comfort. “Rhysand's whore,” the name replayed itself in his mind over and over. He had watched it land on Lyria. Watched the light in her eyes flicker, watched her shrink into herself, watched her push Azriel, Nesta, and Cassian away.

But she clinged to him. The same way he did her. She wanted him, but she waited until they were home. Amarantha's whore and Rhysand's whore. What a fucking pair, he thought bitterly. 

Lyria had her head buried in Rhysand's neck, breathing in his scent and feeling it wash over her. She thought nothing of it as he laid them back, running fingers through her hair. “Our mates went out.” 

She nodded, feeling his warmth as his head turned to hers. “They shouldn't miss date night because you and I are sad.” 

Rhys simply hummed, hand going to the hair at the back of her head and tilting her face up toward his. “No, no, they should not.” Rhys continued to massage her scalp as whiskey eyes held his. “You know nothing they said was true, right?”

“It does not make it hurt any less. Even if my brother was just saying it as a mask. It also doesn't make those memories of that place go away.”

Rhys understood all too well, pulling her impossibly closer. “I'm sorry I could not protect you soon.”

A soft kiss hit his jawline. “And I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.” 

“He doesn't need protection. Big bad illyrian baby,” Feyre's voice was sarcastic as she and Azriel came back to the room, bags of food in hand. “We are going to leave you two alone, but we brought you your favorites.”

“Why leave?” Rhys rose a single brow, but refused to look away from Lyria. “We Should all eat together. Be together.”

Azriel looked to Feyre, the two of them communicating silently. “We can feel you two wanting to be alone. We're offering that.”

Lyria sighed. “Sometimes wanting to be alone isn't the best answer. Stay. We can all take comfort in each other and all help each other get our minds off what happened.” Azriel looked to Feyre caving as he walked her over to the couches. “Come on, mister High Lord.” Rhys rolled his eyes as he was pulled over, Lyria sitting beside him as Azriel sat beside Feyre. Silence was between the four of them, relishing in the safety and comfort of each other. 

“So, is no-one going to talk about it?” Lyria's face grew into an all too familiar snake-like grin. “Surely you all saw the absolute monstrosity of an outfit father was wearing.”

Azriel smirked at his mate, “Gossip.”

“Learned it from you,” she turned to Feyre. “And you.” She kissed Rhysand's cheek, “And most definitely from you. Now talk about my family with me to make me feel better.”

“The little things make you happy, don't they, darling?” Rhys turned her jaw. “Such a simply pretty girl.”

Feyre's eyes lit up. “The prettiest girl.”

“My pretty girl,” Azriel reminded them. 

“Our pretty girl.” Rhysand and Feyre both said.

“Our pretty girl who deserves all the affection tonight,” Feyre continued. “Maybe she and I will run away and you two can brood and compare shadows.”

Azriel took his turn choking before laughing. “We don't brood all the time.”

“Yes you do.”

Lyria leaned into Rhysand's shoulder, feeling lighter from the distraction. I love you, he sent into her mind. We all love you. You are safe here.

So are you, she reminded him. You are safe and loved, too. This is a good distraction. They are stunning together.

It is, and they are. She loves Azriel very much. By the way, it's not Beron's worst outfit to date. 

Lyria's eyes grew wide turning to Rhysand as Feyre and Azriel continued to agree playfully. “Show me?”

“Of course, darling.”

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

Poly+Acotar Week 2024 Taglist:

@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566

#acotar #acotar x oc #azriel x oc x feysand #azriel x vanserra!oc #rhysand x vanserra!oc #feysand x azriel #feysand x oc #poly!acotar #poly+acotarweek #poly+acotarweek d2 #poly+acotarweek 2024 #poly+acotarweek 2024 d2

[we-were-beautiful]

Unraveled Ends: Prologue

a/n: Whlep I told myself that I wouldn’t start a new series but this just came. its a little Poly!feysand x reader. all my photos for the moodboard/aesthetic come from pinterest. I apologize for any mistakes there was minimum editing done to it. Hope y’all enjoy  

Poly!Feysand x Reader 

Warnings: None but there is angst

WC:239

I had known that they were my mates since last Starfall. It seemed almost cruel of the mother to give me not only one mate but two. The mating bond should be celebrated, cherished but when it snapped for me last year I could tell that it hadn’t snapped for them. Maybe it would have been easier on me had the two of them already cemented the bond between them or if they weren't the high lord and lady of the night court.  Some days it hurts more to think about the incomplete bond, typically it's on the nights where I can feel intense emotions coming from their end or when I accidently receive memories and images from them. Those are the days where all I want to do is just stay in bed and let the world pass by around me wallowing in the incomplete bond, but I can't do that. I have a shop to run and siblings to take care of. I guess I could count myself as lucky, that I get to see them regularly when they come in for new clothes or if I’m torturing myself every time they come in. In the end I feel like I am grasping at threads and that my ends are unraveling. I don’t know whether to hope that the bond snaps for them or if I should just reject the bond and live with the gaping hole.

#Feysand #feysand x reader #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x reader #rhys x feyre #feyre x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofs #acosf #rhysand x feyre x reader #Unraveled Ends

[tadpolesonalgae]

Hi, love. First of all I wish lots of insiration!

However I was wondering if you're still going to write poly!feysand with forced marriage trope? I remember you mentioned that you're gonna do it a while ago. No pressure, just wondering.

Oh. My gosh. Yes, I am so sorry!

It completely slipped my mind so thank you so much for this!!! I made a list in my notes for the fics I said I would write so I’m going to hunt for that, then I’ll get started on completing it (again)!! 😳

Again, thank you so much for reminding me—sorry for being a little unreliable!

#anons <3 #Feysand #poly!feysand #dark!feysand

[shadowdaddies]

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)

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)

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #nessian x reader #feysand x reader #cazriel x reader #batboys x reader #rhysriel x reader #poly!nessian x reader #poly!feysand x reader #poly fic #acotar reader fic #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel x reader #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #rhys x reader #feyre x reader

[polyacotarweek]

Creator showcase# 3: @thesistersarcheron!

Also know as miss_belivet on AO3.

We are featuring her multichapter Nessriel fic titled "viciousness & intelligence", part 1 of her "swords & shadow" series. This fic follows Nesta, Cassian, and Azriel as they realize Nesta and Cassian's lesser fae mating bond may follow different, more complex, rules than the typical high fae mating bond. Here's an excerpt from the fic description:

"After the ball in the Hewn City, Nesta and Cassian swore to each other that there would be no one else. Ever. They didn't account for Azriel."

This fic is beautifully written and explores the practical, emotional, and sexual aspects of a relationship between three canon characters. The dynamics intricately woven, and the story is an excellent new take on fated mates. Keep a weather eye on the horizon for new chapters!

We asked her a few questions so we could all get to know her better: 

Q: What’s your favorite CNM group to write about? 

A: My favorite poly ship is Nessriel, maybe for obvious reasons. Cassian and Azriel already have such a solid bond as brothers-in-arms when Nesta comes in to shake things up for Cassian. And then, the quiet, gentle friendship and respect that grew between Nesta and Azriel in ACOSF and HOFAS? That absolutely clinched it for me.

Q: What CNM group would you want to explore further? 

A:  Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about Feysandriel. Rhys is a giver (he does, after all, try to test the waters with Feyre about how she might feel about bringing Cassian and Azriel into their relationship), and Feyre is a lover through and through. I imagine it can be quite compelling for them to see something in Azriel—maybe the darkness all three of them share, maybe the longing for romantic connection or the desire to be seen—that they want to explore. The mating bond seems settled between Feysand, but with the tension currently simmering between Rhys and Azriel, it could just be so interesting to tease out whatever dynamic might emerge as they add a third partner.

Q: What’s your favorite trope? 

A: My favorite trope is pretty basic, but I love dramatic “that’s my wife!” or “that’s my mate!” reveals. Secret relationships and forbidden love rarely fall flat for me. It’s one reason I’ll rarely complain that SJM always has her couples elope.

Thank you so much to thesistersarcheron/miss_belivet for taking the time to speak with us. Your works are wonderful, and we are so excited to see what you write next!

Poly+ ACOTAR week is only TWO weeks away now! We can't wait to share new creations with you all!

#nessriel #poly!acotar #nesta x azriel x cassian #acotar #acosf #poly+acotarweek2024 #poly+acotarweek #feysandriel #feyre archeron #cassian #azriel #nesta archeron #rhysand #fated mates #post acosf #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #poly!feysand #poly!nessian #nessian x azriel #feysand x azriel #hofas #cc 3 #nesta x azriel #nesta x cassian #nesta x cassian x azriel