polysjmweek - Tumblr blog

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Ours - Chapter 1

The Confirmation | part 2 | series masterlist

Poly+ SJM Week: Day 6 | @polysjmweek

Nesta x Pregnant!Reader x Cassian

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Summary: Two months after Starfall, two months after you and your fiancée shared a bed with Cassian, and you're two months pregnant. Breaking the news to them goes as well as you could have hoped.

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy

Words: ~1.7k

Author's Note: sooo I think this shall be a mini series! Just cute fluffy stuff I think, Cass and Nesta worrying over you and all that cuteness. But I am sooo tired. It's almost 4am... I make bad choices lol. I hope you guys like it, lemme know if you're interested in seeing more parts! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍❤️🤍

You sat on the cot, your mouth hanging slightly open. Madja was staring at you sympathetically, one of her hands still clutched tightly in yours.

“Are you sure?” you asked for the third time, wanting - no, needing to have it confirmed again.

“Yes, Y/N, you are pregnant. I know it’s not my place but…” the other fae paused. “Does Nesta… know?”

You sighed heavily, letting your face fall into your hands. “Yes, and no. She’ll know who, but she has no clue that I’m carrying his child.”

Nesta would definitely know, seeing as she had been the one to suggest both of you luring Cassian into your bed at Starfall a few weeks ago. And she certainly hadn’t forgotten about the… encounter, if her increased ire at Cassian whenever he was near you was any indication.

Madja nodded understandingly, most likely having experience with this kind of situation. “My only advice is to tell her and the father sooner, rather than later.” Blood rushed to your cheeks, but you nodded in agreement. “Good! Now, here’s a month’s supply of nutrient and anti-nausea potions, take them both in the morning with something light and you should feel fine. And if anything worries you at all, feel free to come in any time, Y/N,” Madja said warmly, handing a cloth bag filled with glass vials to you.

“Thank you, Madja.” You stood from the cot, giving her a small smile as you left her clinic. The sun warmed your face, though the winter winds swept away any comfort it brought you, and the glare off pristine white snow had given you a headache by the time you arrived home, at your and Nesta’s small cottage tucked back against the mountain that held the House of Wind.

Your boots were kicked off the moment you got inside, and you carefully set down the bag of potions on the ground so that you could shuck off your outer layers, leaving you in just a pair of cozy wool leggings and an oversized sweater. You heard Nesta, further in the house, and placed a soothing hand on your stomach, taking a deep breath before you walked towards the noise.

“Nesta?” you asked quietly once you saw her, currently stirring something that smelled good in a pan. “Can I… Can we talk for a minute?”

Nesta turned to face you, her golden brown hair styled in her signature braid crown, her steel eyes soft as she looked at you. “Of course, love, what is it?” she asked as she pulled you in by your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

She was so sweet, so nice to you, you couldn’t hold it back. “I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, watching as Nesta’s eyes widened in shock. She blinked at you, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the words.

You were stood there, watching her for two minutes before a burning smell filled your nose, overtaking Nesta’s pleasant fire and snow scent. “Nes, the food,” you gasped, and she whirled around to find the sausages she’d been cooking completely charred on one side, quickly moving the pan to an unlit burner and blowing out the flame.

Teeth worried your lip as Nesta turned back to you, a tight look on her face. “You know I love you, and we’ve discussed having children together,” Nesta began, and your heart sank. “I’m just not sure that I’ll be able to handle Cassian being the father,” she whined, her arms wrapping around you.

“Nes,” you cried, burying your face in her shoulder, tears welling in your eyes. “You’re… You’re not mad?” you hiccupped when you pulled back.

Nesta’s eyes melted at your worry, and she pressed a firm kiss to your forehead. “Of course I’m not mad, Y/N. We were intimate with him together, and it’s… frankly it’s a miracle that you’re pregnant,” she said happily. “And the only part I’m not looking forward to is the father, but if you want him to be present and he does as well, I will… I will embrace it as much as I can.”

You pressed a kiss to her lips, overjoyed with how she had taken the news. “If he’s open to it, I would like to have him in the baby’s life,” you said shyly.

Nesta smiled at you and ran her hands over your shoulders. “Alright, then. We’ll tell him… After the next family dinner?” You made a face and shook your head at the suggestion. “Right, that could end very poorly… We could send him a note and ask him to meet us… here?” She asked, her brow quirked.

“That could work,” you said before pulling Nesta close again, hugging her tightly. “Should we write it now?”

“Now is good… Before I convince myself to distract you long enough you can’t tell him,” Nesta giggled, though you could sense the truth behind her words.

The two of you sat down at the dinner table, writing five drafts before finally settling on a final one:

Cassian,

Please come visit our house tonight at seven for dinner, we have something we’d like to tell you.

Nesta and Y/N

Simple and to the point, your magic had it sent to him after Nesta sealed it with wax - the seal the two of you had designed for your upcoming wedding ceremony.

For the rest of the day, Nesta kept you snuggled up in bed with her, switching between reading the latest romance novels and laying her head and hands on your stomach, pressing sweet kisses to your skin. You discussed whether you wanted a boy or girl, both of you wanting a baby girl, but happy with either as long as they were healthy.

When dinner time rolled around, you and Nesta had made pasta and a salad, and Nesta had made you sit at the table once seven rolled around, nervous about you being on your feet so long, even with you only being two months along.

A knock on the door had your heart racing, and Nesta took deliberately slow steps to not seem too… Eager. “Good evening, Cassian. Please, come in,” Nesta said cordially, and you felt the air shift as Cassian entered the house.

“I have to admit, I was surprised when I received your letter, the two of you have been avoiding me like the plague,” Cassian joked as Nesta led him into the kitchen, his eyes sparkling when they landed on you. “It’s lovely to see the both of you again, even if it is with clothes on,” he said with a wink in your direction, heat rushing to your cheeks despite yourself.

“It’s nice to see you too, Cassian,” you said lightly, motioning for him to sit down. “And like the letter said, we uhm… We have some things to discuss.”

“Oh?” Cassian asked as he pulled Nesta’s chair out for her, taking a seat a moment later. “Is it about how much Nesta’s obviously in love with me?” She scowled at him, which only seemed to egg him on. “Or did you invite me here to lure me into your bed again?” He asked with a wiggle of his brows, and Nesta slapped him on the arm.

“Shut up,” she groaned, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “It’s neither of those, you idiot.”

“I’m hurt, Nesta, really,” he said, holding a hand to his heart as his wings flapped lightly behind him. “I thought you loved me,” Cassian groaned, a grin on his lips.

“Could you stop messing with her?” you asked, tapping his hand with yours. “The reason we asked you to come here is…” You took a deep breath, looking at Nesta who nodded encouragingly. “I’m pregnant, Cassian, and… It’s yours.”

Cassian inhaled deeply through his nose once, twice. And then a grin spread over his face. “Really? That’s- wow, that’s amazing! I-I’d love to be involved,” he said eagerly, before a look of horror spread over his face. “Oh, god, you do know about the risks of babies with wings, right?! Madja’s come a long way with treatments since Feyre’s pregnancy but it’s still a big factor to think abo-”

“Cassian,” Nesta said, placing a calming hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Y/N is seeing Madja for her care, she’ll be given everything she needs to get through this,” she reassured him, and he took a steadying breath.

“Good, that’s good,” he breathed. “So… Would you let me be involved?”

You shared a look with Nesta before answering him, happy to see her nod slightly. “Yes, Cassian, we would love that!" You squealed, giggling when he rushed around the table to take you in his arms, squeezing you tightly before suddenly releasing you, his hands finding their way to your stomach.

“Ah, shoot, I didn’t mean to squish the baby-”

“You didn’t squish the baby, you fool,” Nesta interrupted, pushing one of his hands off of your stomach to cover it with her own.

“Nes,” you said softly.

Nesta sighed at the look you gave her, begging her to try and be nice to Cassian. “Would you like some dinner, Cassian?”

Cassian grinned down at her. “I’d love some dinner, Nesta.”

You sat down, both Nesta and Cassian pushing your chair in for you, much to Nesta’s annoyance, but you found it endearing how much both of them wanted to take care of you.

Your hands went to grab the salad tongs, but were beaten to them by Nesta’s elegant fingers, and she plated some for you before getting salad for herself. And when you went to grab the spoon for the pasta, Cassian snatched it from your grasp, dishing your plate for you with a satisfied smile.

You sighed, a smile on your face. Already, you could tell that this would be a challenge for the both of them, but you knew it would be worth it in the end. Your baby will be the most loved child in the world, with parents like them, along with your own unconditional love.

Now if only you could get Cassian and Nesta to get along…

🤍🩶🤍❤️🤍

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars

#pregnancy fics are so good #these three will make great parents!#Nesta x reader x Cassian #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+SJMweek2025d7 #Nesta x pregnant!reader x cassian #Nesta x pregnant!reader #poly!Nessian x reader #poly!acotar x reader #acotar x reader #unplanned pregnancy #poly!acotar

146 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Heartbeat

Summary - One bed doesn't work well for 3 illyrians and their mate.

Warnings - Azriel's slutty sweatpants, mentions of wing clipping but nothing graphic, swearing

A/n - Anyone else wonder how any quad would handle a one bed situation?

Written for @polysjmweek day three: Will there be enough room?

SJM Poly+ Week Masterlist

Master Masterlist

“Oh you have got to be shitting me,” Azriel grumbled. “Rhys, you were supposed to ask for 2 beds.”

“I did,” The High Lord pulled off the hood that did nothing to disguise him, prompting a giggle from you and Cassian. The look of annoyance he gave the two of you had you hiding your face in Cassian's chest. “I suppose you two think this is very funny.”

“Very,” Cassian chuckled. “Azriel is acting like the 4 of us haven't been sharing a bed for, what, 200 years?” Cassian's hands guided you into the room, setting your bag down. “Go bathe first.”

216 years, you would never correct Cassian, and they still ensured you showered first in these situations. It wasn't the first time you four found yourselves in a rundown inn seeking shelter after a rough mission. It wouldn't be the last either. Peeling off the sweat and dirt-caked clothing made your skin crawl. You four had been hunting Illyrians that had crossed Rhysand for the last time. Your husband was tired of the clippings and the fighting.

All three of your husbands were, actually.

It had started with you and Cassian. The bond had snapped when he saw you on the Summer Court's pleasure barge, per his banishment from your home. He had introduced you to Azriel a few days later, the fight between them now being the cause of the infamous sand castle collapse that shook the Summer Court. Not wanting to live without them, you left when they did, arriving at the Night Court and causing another fight the second you laid eyes on Rhysand. The four of you worked hard to make the dynamic flow, but once it fell into place, the three of them all admitted their lives and connection made so much more sense.

“Do you need help, sweetheart,” a purr made you pause, hands moving away from the corset you wore for extra protection. Rhysand began to work on the ties. “We are attempting to figure out the bed situation,” his voice was slightly annoyed. “With two males with wings-”

“Baby, I can sleep on the floor,” you offered.

“Over my dead body,” his eyes met yours in the mirror. “If we move the bed to the center of the room, we can have Azriel and Cassian take the outsides-”

“And squish you in the middle with me on the floor,” your voice was meant to be firm, but the relief as he finally finished unlacing your corset made it more of a relaxed sigh. “You can't handle sleeping on floors or the couch. your knees will get stiff, and then you will become grumpy.”

He nipped at your ear playfully, “I do not get grumpy.” He walked with you toward the tub, arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind. He kept you practically glued to him, turning the faucet on, “I fear the water won't get warm.”

“It's okay. One cold bath won't kill me,” your fingers traced his forearm tattoos. “We get to go home tomorrow, right?”

He nodded, “Azriel found and took care of the last group while you and Cassian were doing whatever you two were doing.”

You leaned back to narrow your eyes, “Very serious mission things.” A lie, and Rhysand knew, but he wouldn't push it. “We were critical to the success of this operation.” Not a lie.

A dark brown lifted as his smirk began to form. “I will pretend I didn't just see a flash of what you two were doing in the woods today. Bathe while I get the bed figured out.” He left after smacking your ass, laughing as he did.

You sunk into the water, the harsh drag of wood on wood outside the door. The rules of your missions typically involved bathing quickly so you could all wash up, but with the water cold, there was little reason not to soak longer than you normally would. Once you were chilled to the bones, you stepped out and drained the tub, cringing at the sight of the dirty water.

A real bath, preferably with 3 sets of hands helping you, would be a must once you were back in Velaris. You wrapped yourself in the towel, walking out to where Azriel was situating things. “And where did the other two go?”

“They claim food,” he murmured. “Rhysand said the water is cold.” His hand reached for your hair, twisting a lock. “Are you cold?”

“A bit.”

“Start a fire if you'd like,” the tone of his voice was soft and almost musical, as it always was when he relaxed. His lips were warm on your forehead as he went to bathe, leaving you to try to heat the cold room with the small hearth. You studied the bed once you had it going, changing into your last clean pair of leggings and finding one of Cassian's shirts to wear.

There was no possible way all four of you would fit. Your bed in Velaris was custom-made, allowing all three males to stretch out their wings. That wouldn't be possible here. Rhysand would have to keep his tucked in with his magic, Azriel and Cassian would have to let theirs rest on the floor.

You had a plan. One they'd hate. You grabbed a blanket from the corner of the room and a pillow and laid in front of the fireplace. They'd believe you fell asleep warming your skin back up and hopefully, they'd let you sleep there. Maybe that would allow the three of them some sort of comfort. You shut your eyes, the warmth so enjoyable it lulled your mind into relaxing.

Cassian and Rhysand walked back into the room, Cassian quick to notice your form curled up under a blanket. “We should have just pushed and flew her home,” he told Rhysand. He kneeled down next to you, waving the questionable soup in front of your nose. Your tummy grumbled, forcing you to open your eyes from the sleepy state. “Eat.”

You took the bowl, sitting up to see Azriel coming out and Cassian motioning for Rhysand to go in. Azriel's sleeping pants hung loose on his hips as he grabbed a bowl as well. His waist looked fsr more interesting than the grey and clumpy soup, but you resisted the temptation. “Like bathing in a damned river,” he muttered to Cassian. “What are you doing on the floor,” he glanced at you.

“Sleeping,” your face, as you took a spoonful of soup, made both males pause.

“Can't be picky, sweetheart,” Azriel said softly. “Picky starves.”

“I know.”

Rhysand took the fastest bath you think he'd ever done, shivering as he walked back out in his towel and began to change. He said nothing as he took his first bite of food, nor did Azriel. Cassian had got to take his turn by the time you looked up. Once he was back, his own pants did not rest as low as Azriel's. He glanced at you. “That is my shirt,” his face was bright as he took you in, the material hanging almost drowning you in it. “But yes, you can wear it.”

All eyes were on that single bed. Rhysand appeared to be calculating the space, as if he could ensure his little plan would work. You laid back on the floor, stretching and then curling back to the fireplace. Wordlessly defiance was something you specialized in, but the three of them weren't stupid, and it didn't take them long to begin situating.

Azriel wanted the spot that'd allow him to lay facing the door, always on high alert when your little pack found itself away from home. Cassian took the side that allowed him to face the window, another watchful eye to where any threats may come. Rhysand was forced between them, a silent conversation before Cassian walked over and picked you up.

That's how you found yourself laying on Rhysand. One of his arms held your hips as the other moved to cup the back of your head. One wing rested on the two of you like a weighted blanket, then another. “Go to sleep,” Rhysand whispered to you. “You may not realize this, but you are trapped.” There was no response from you, no argument. The soft sound of your breathing was the only thing coming from you as you laid on what would now Be your favorite bed.

“Next time, we will fly home,” Azriel stated.

Cassian immediately agreed, “This isn't fair to y/n.” They both glanced at Rhysand when he didn't respond, only to find him asleep. “Or maybe it wasn't fair to us,” Cassian added.

“Thinking it definitely wasn't fair to us,” Azriel chuckled. “He worked this to his advantage.”

“He always does,” Cassian said. His voice was getting deeper and slower. “Always does.” It did not take long for the two of them to fall asleep, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of a dying hearth and four hearts beating in sync.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

#Slutty sweatpants are the best #Where do all those wings go?#acotar x reader #poly!acotar x reader #poly!acotar #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly!batboys x reader #poly+sjmweek2025d3

1K notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Decisions, Decisions

pairing: Cadre x Reader

word count: 901

warnings: none

a/n: written for day 7 of @polysjmweek

The weight of the decision you had to make was suffocating. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every shared laugh with one of them only twisted the knife deeper. Rowan, strong and steady. Lorcan, dark and unyielding. Gavriel, warm and understanding. And Fenrys, all humor and quiet devotion.

You loved them. All of them. And the truth of it was a heavy thing.

At first, you tried to ignore it. You trained your magic with Rowan, sparred with Lorcan, confided in Gavriel, and let Fenrys coax laughter from you when the world felt too heavy. But the deeper your feelings grew, the more impossible it became to keep pretending that you could pick one and live with it. The idea of choosing one meant losing the others, breaking the hearts of warriors who had already lost too much.

So you did the only thing you could think of. You pulled away.

It wasn’t immediate, but they noticed—of course they noticed. The Cadre was perceptive, predators honed by centuries of battle. You were not as skilled at hiding as you wanted to believe.

Rowan was the first to press you on it. He wasn’t unkind, but his sharp green eyes pinned you in place after he cornered you in the living room. “You’re avoiding us.”

“What?” you asked, feigning confusion.

Before Rowan could respond the others walked into the room, settling themselves on the couches. Lorcan sat next to Rowan, and Fenrys and Gavriel sat on either side of you.

Lorcan’s arms were crossed, dark brows drawn low as he glowered. “You’ve been distant.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath, trying to school your features to hide what you truly felt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Gavriel’s gaze was softer but no less intense. “Don’t lie to us. Tell us what’s going on, love.”

Fenrys didn’t say anything at first. He just moved his hand to your thigh, swiping his thumb back and forth in a comforting motion. Breaking down your defenses.

You swallowed hard, hands curling into fists. “I—” You hesitated, blood whooshing in your ears. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean?”

Your breath came uneven. “I can’t pick.” The words tumbled out, raw and painful. “I can’t pick just one of you to love. Because I love all of you. And I know it’s selfish and wrong, and I know it’ll hurt to have to choose, but I—” Your voice cracked, eyes burning. “I don’t know how to live with breaking my own heart, let alone yours.”

Fenrys laughed. It wasn’t cruel, wasn’t mocking. It was relieved. You blinked at him as he grinned. “Is that what’s been tearing you up inside?”

Your lips parted, but no words came.

Rowan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You fool.”

Lorcan’s scowl had softened just a fraction. “You think we’d make you choose?”

You blinked. “You—what?”

Gavriel scooted closer to you on the couch, taking one of your hands in his. “Do you truly think we haven’t spoken about this?” His tawny eyes gleamed with humor. “That we haven’t noticed how you look at all of us? How we look at you?”

The room felt too small, your chest too tight. “But—you can’t be serious.”

Rowan huffed. “We are.”

Fenrys leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ve been waiting for you to catch up, sweetheart.”

Your brain stalled. They had… talked about this?

Rowan, so reserved. Lorcan, who barely tolerated most people. Gavriel, the most level-headed of them all. And Fenrys, wild and untamed. They had spoken about loving you, about sharing you, and they were fine with it?

You opened your mouth to say something else but all that came out was a strangled sound.

Fenrys grinned. “We broke her.”

Gavriel chuckled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Breathe, lioness”

Your heart thundered. “You’re all okay with this? Really?”

Rowan’s gaze softened. “We are.”

Lorcan’s voice was rough but sure. “We’ve always shared a bond. You were just the missing piece.”

Fenrys tilted his head. “So tell us, sweetheart—why choose?”

You exhaled shakily, warmth flooding your chest.

“Come here,” Gavriel murmured, opening his arms.

You crawled into his lap, resting your head on his shoulder. His large, calloused hands came up to cradle your head and rub your back.

“There’s no need to stress yourself out so much, love. We have all been together for so long. Through war and through arguments. But most importantly, we trust each other. To respect each other, to love and take care of you,” Gavriel said.

You wiped at the tears trailing down your cheeks. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, honey,” Fenrys said sympathetically. He moved closer to you and Gavriel on the couch, taking your hand in his and kissing the top of it. “We’re sure. I hate seeing you so upset.”

Rowan moved from his seat to crouch in front of you. “You don’t need to worry about the logistics of it. You let us take care of that. Take care of you, you understand?”

You nodded. “Okay,” you whispered.

It felt like you could breathe for the first time in months. It was overwhelming knowing that all four of these males wanted you, but most importantly, were willing to share you. Because like Fenrys said, why choose?

#what a group to be with #They would take such good care of you #throne of glass #throne of glass x reader #poly!tog #poly+sjmweek2025d7 #poly+sjmweek2025 #rowan whitethorn x reader #gavriel x reader #lorcan salvaterre x reader #fenrys moonbeam x reader #rowan whitethorn #lorcan salvaterre #the cadre x reader

164 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

In Another Life

Summary - After Andras’ death, your quad is down to three and you all can help but discuss and wonder what could have been.

Warning - Loss of a partner, grief, death, resentment, anger, angst with no happy ending, mentions of children

A/n - A little drabble to hurt you all featuring Tamcien x reader. 💕

Written for Day 4 of @polysjmweek

SJM Poly+ Week Masterlist

Master Masterlist

Three should have never felt as lonely as it did, but without a male grinning at you like a wolf who had ensnared prey, life just felt off. You left it. Lucien did. Tamlin did. Andras’ death was something you all had never wanted to deal with, but he had made his choice. You were just stuck living with it.

You wiped the back of your hand against your face, trying to ignore the rock settling in your chest as Tamlin stood there, staring at you and Lucien. “I expect her to be treated with kindness,” he was trying to be a High Lord and lead by example, but he was failing. Tamlin wore his heart on his sleeve with you and Lucien, and right now, he read like he was an example of grief written by a talented scholar. “We have to accept that this was his choice. He made this sacrifice for us.”

Lucien let out a huff, eyes squeezing shut for a second. “My kindness is limited when it comes to a human who killed my friend in cold blood before skinning him.” That detail had the color leaving your face, Tamlin had protected you from it and clearly did not want you knowing why your mate's body had been burned before you could say goodbye.

“Lucien,” he growled. “Enough.”

The male shook his head before standing, “Come,” he held his left hand to you. “Lets go walk.”

“Avoiding me doesn't fix the issue,” Tamlin whispered, knowing all too well that was Lucien's plan. Avoid and detach. His mate specialized in that. “We need to talk this over.”

Lucien held your hand, helping you stand. “There's not much to discuss. Andras is gone and now we are stuck with the human who killed him in hopes you can somehow ignore our mating bond and the connection we already share with y/n long enough to make her fall in love with you.”

Tamlin glanced at you, hoping for support that wasn't there. “I asked him not to go,” his voice broke as he reminded you. “You understand that, right?”

“Yes,” the tightening of your throat felt like it was choking you. There wasn't enough air, enough room, enough anything. “I just,” you couldn't finish. There weren't words for how you felt. No poetry that you could hand Tamlin to help him understand the broken pieces of you.

“Let's get her outside,” Lucien whispered, leading you to the gardens. He didn't stop until the three of you found your little trio sitting on the marble fountain. “In another world, I imagine he's still here,” Lucien began. “I imagine things will go exactly as I had planned in that world. You two have a couple of babies, Tamlin and I get to be daddy #2 and daddy #3.”

“We fall even more in love,” Tamlin continued. “The four of us, raising our babies together.”

You wiped your warm tears beginning to fall. “You two wanted this situation to last that long?”

It was two immediate nods. “We decided a long time ago we never wanted a life without you and Andras in it,” Lucien admitted. “We fell in love with both of you, and we wanted you both to stay.”

Your head went to Tamlin's shoulder, fingers still laced into Lucien's. “Andras used to tell me the 4 of us would stay in this.. wait, what did you two consider us?”

“Us,” Tamlin shrugged. “We didn't put a title on it. We just see it as 4 fae who love each other deeply.” Tamlin couldn't bring himself to use past tense. He couldn't force the word “loved” to roll off his tongue.

Past tense meant accepting Andras was gone, something none of you could do.

“Andras used to tell me the four of us would all stay together,” you brought yourself to continue, wanting to picture and hold the world your mate had painted so tightly that just maybe you would wake up from this moment, realizing it was just one bad dream. “He'd tell me he and I would have a baby first, then you two would fight over who was next. He-” you looked up now, the stars twinkling. “He dreamed of a world where we filled the house with children. Enough of them, so none of them ever had to be alone. Everyone would have a friend..”

Tamlin hummed, “So it was just you who needed convincing?” Green eyes looked down at you, “I want to imagine that's the world we live in tonight. One where he is still here, faelings climbing all over him.”

Lucien nodded in agreement, “One where he's laughing at dinner as y/n stares at him for saying something grossly inappropriate.”

“One where we don't have to cry over what if and what could have been,” your voice shook. “Where all the little dreams, the little plans came true.”

The quiet that fell over you three was almost painful.

Three should have never felt so lonely.

But it really did when three used to be four.

General Taglist:

#this is so devastating #thank you for blessing us with this hurt #poly!acotar #reader x tamcien #reader x lucien x tamlin #acotar x reader #poly!acotar x reader #poly+sjmweek2025 #tamcien x reader #tamlin x lucien #tamcien x reader x andras #reader x andras #poly+sjmweek2025d4

72 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Applewood Embers and Honeyed Jasmine 2/2

Summary: Lucien is tired of Elain and Azriel being unhappy and not speaking when, to him, the solution is so easy. After another awkward family dinner, he takes matters into his own hands. Part 2 of 2.

Written for @polysjmweek Day Seven: Why Choose?

Pairing: Lucien/Azriel, Lucien/Elain, Lucien/Elain/Azriel

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

Warnings for mentions of genital piercings, mentions of BDSM, Azriel's pain and praise kinks, oral (female and male receiving), sex (p-in-v), masturbation

Time slows for Elain the moment her mate winnows into the apartment. She’d been reading – or trying to – on the bench by the window, needing the moon’s company tonight more than ever. Their bond had been alive with irritation and tension as she prepared for bed; Lucien hadn’t even bothered to try and close off his end, and she wasn’t sure she’d want him to. If she couldn’t be there for their conversation, she wanted to have a sense of how it went. She wanted to be prepared for the worst. Even the idea that her dear friend – friend, what a joke, he’d been so much more than that – hadn’t valued her, hadn’t cared for her the way she’d cared for him…no, no, it couldn’t be true. And when all of that tension at the end of their bond broke, flooded instead with the heat of desire, Elain had nearly dropped her book. Now he’s home, he’s home and he’s not alone, and the hope blooming in Elain’s chest is a living thing.

Azriel sinks to his knees before her, and he looks like he is confessing, but she can’t hear a word he’s saying. In her mind, there is a garden coming to life, and she doesn’t know if it’s a glimpse of a vision or her overactive imagination. But there is a garden, thick and wild, filled with flowers from across Prythian, from across the world. And they are there, the three of them – no, the four of them, there’s someone missing. It is a vision, but she shakes it away, pushing with all of the force she can muster to be here now. To be present.

To live, in this moment, with her mate and their…their Azriel. Because he would be theirs, he won’t leave this apartment without knowing the way he is wanted. Needed. After all this time, she still needs him, in every way she always has and so, so much more. Elain abandons her book, leaning forward to cup his cheeks, to chase that agonizing guilt from the eyes she loves so much.

She loves him. She does. She has for years. Not in the way she loves Lucien, not with the steady certainty of the bond that keeps them tethered, keeps them coming back together no matter how far he drifts. No, this is darker, as deep and wild as that garden in her mind, with teeth and claws that do not frighten her because she claims them. This is a love that could be ruinous, and she wants it anyway. She wants it.

“Elain,” Azriel breathes, eyes fluttering closed as he leans into her touch, like it’s taken all of the fight out of him. All of the anguish she’d heard as he stumbled through an apology she didn’t care to receive, not when he’s right here , looking at her. Letting her touch him.

“Enough,” she whispers, drawing his head into her lap. “Enough. Let’s be done with all of this pain, Azriel. I think we’ve all suffered enough.” Separately and together. The three of them had been a mess since her first breath as a High Fae, her complex feelings for them so wrapped up in the trauma of being snatched from her body, from her life, and folded into this new one…she hadn’t been able to see it clearly before. Not the way she sees it now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Lucien shift, like he might come towards them. Elain finds that bond in her chest, that golden thread stretching between them, and gives it a long, slow caress. Asking him to wait just one minute more. She doesn’t want to keep him out right now, she needs the reassurance of his presence that this is okay, that she can have this. They can all have what they want and it’s all okay . Lucien’s response is a light tug, a subtle reminder he’s there, that she’s free to explore this.

But Azriel needs this moment, too. This connection with her. A chance to just breathe together, with his head in her lap, a quiet moment they haven’t shared since that night in her sister’s home. His hands grip the backs of her calves, hot against her skin. She runs her fingers through his hair, his loose curls gliding like silk between her fingers. Those large, imposing black wings droop as the warrior relaxes, unfolding like dark satin across the floor behind him. He looks a little like the seraphim she’s seen in books Feyre brought her from the library, angelic beings more imposing than Dawn’s Peregryn. She wants to run her hands along the framework of his wings and feel the strength in those bones; to stroke and touch in all of the ways she’s only read about in the romance novels Nesta occasionally forgets at the River House.

Elain leans down, lightly kissing the top of Azriel’s head, breathing in his icy mist and cedar scent as his grip on her flesh tightens. If it bruises, at least she will have evidence this was real, that it wasn’t only happening in her mind. Lucien drifts closer, skirting the edge of Azriel’s wing to sit beside her on the bench. His arm slips around her waist, drawing her firmly against his side without jostling the Illyrian in her lap, and her heart sings at the way they fit together. It’s not quite enough to be complete, not yet, but it’s so much closer than the long, cold nights she’d cling to Lucien in bed and wish things had been different – that maybe she’d been different. Made different, perhaps.

“You’re perfect,” Lucien whispers, resting his head against hers. Had he felt that flicker of lingering insecurity, that old wound she’s always trying to bury? That what she is, what she can offer, still might not be enough? Azriel hums, nodding his agreement from her lap, and she can’t stop the laugh that bubbles up from her chest. “What?”

Elain tries to stifle her giggling, the sound so bright with joy and disbelief, closing her eyes to try and settle herself. “Nothing, nothing, it’s…I can’t…is this real? Are both of you truly okay with- with all of this, with…with me?” She hates the way her voice breaks then, her final question a whisper in the stillness of the apartment. She can feel their eyes on her, feel them watching but she refuses to open her eyes, to find out if the tears gathering on her lashes are real or imagined. This could all be a dream, it could be-

Lucien’s hand is in her hair, pulling her head back as his mouth claims hers. His kiss isn’t gentle, and she doesn’t want it to be. Azriel tugs at her calves, pulling her towards the end of the bench, and Lucien helps him along. He guides her head to his shoulder as he pulls back, his thumb sweeping away the tears that do fall when she finally opens her eyes, meeting his stare. He loves her, he loves her and it’s all there in the steady way he watches her. His thumb caresses her cheek, drawing a warm, soft smile to her lips before his hand drifts lower, towards the ribbon at the top of her nightgown.

Yes, yes, she nods her assent as Azriel slowly, carefully spreads her legs a little wider, her feet brushing against the outside of his thick, powerful thighs. His warm, soft mouth presses against the inside of her knee. Her breath hitches at the sweet, slow kiss he leaves on her skin. Elain’s eyes drift from Lucien’s to watch his fingers tug at the end of the rosy, pink ribbon, pulling the bow free. The gathered collar loosens, slipping down her shoulders, baring her skin to two pairs of hungry eyes. Azriel turns his head, placing a mirroring kiss on her other leg as Lucien’s mouth ghosts along her shoulder, raising goosebumps along her skin.

Her arousal scents the air, honeyed jasmine mingling with theirs until she’s overwhelmed with the scent of them, dark and sweet and sensual. Holy gods, it’s almost too much and they haven’t even started yet. Frothy layers of pale chiffon slide up her thighs as Azriel begins his ascent. Her dress slips lower, baring a breast that Lucien’s large, warm hand covers, squeezing and caressing as he kisses her again like they have nothing but time to enjoy this.

- - -

Elain’s panties are ruined by the time Azriel’s tongue swipes over them. His mouth is achingly warm against the soaked fabric, and he lets out a low, possessive groan at the way she whimpers above him. She tastes divine, sweet musky, and he presses his face firmly into the apex of her thighs, pulling in the heady scent of her like she is all the air he’ll need. She is, he swears she is. His tongue darts against her in quick, firm strokes, enjoying the sweet noises she makes as much as the taste of her. He would have begged more for this if she hadn’t mercifully interrupted his fumbling apology. He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, he’s sure of it, his cock straining against the waist of his breeches where Lucien had left tucked. The sensitive skin around his jewelry feels tighter – not uncomfortably so, not yet, but he’s going to need to ease this ache soon.

Fuck, she tastes so good.

Maybe he should just come like this. He certainly could, gods, they don’t have to touch him. He wants them to, though. Lucien lets out a harsh breath and Azriel lifts his head to watch Elain free his cock. Her small, pale hand strokes the thick, veined shaft, following the arched curve of his back towards the other male’s chest. He’s been with plenty of fae in the last five centuries, and Lucien probably has the prettiest cock he’s ever seen. Fuck. Fuck. He’s going to be ruined for anyone else, isn’t he?

“Yes,” Lucien sighs, the back of his head thumping against the thick windowpane at their backs, and Azriel glances up to see that magnificent sky glittering behind them both. Then he catches Lucien’s eye and his auburn head bobs, all the consent he needs. He braces his hands against Elain’s thighs, leaning up between them as she shyly angles her mate’s cock forward, allowing Azriel to flick the tip of his tongue along the slit. It feels right for his first taste to be shared with her this way, for her to be the one to grant him this.

Salt dances across his tongue as he takes Lucien in his mouth. Lucien’s hand falls from Elain’s breast to rest atop Azriel’s head, sinking into his hair with surprising tenderness. Elain’s fingers brush against his mouth with every slow, sweet stroke of her hand. Nothing about this is hurried, so unlike the couplings Azriel has had in the last several decades. It’s the prelude to a dance between the three of them, soft and easy, so he keeps his movements as languid as hers. Tasting, feeling the way Lucien hardens between his lips, how the Autumn male’s hips shift as they tease him.

It’s divine.

Mother above, he needs more, but he can’t ask for it. Can’t demand it of them. He’ll take what they give him-

Lucien’s fingers tighten in his hair, pulling his head back. A long string of spit stretches between his mouth and the dark, leaking tip of Lucien’s cock. Then Lucien is there, kissing him, sucking the taste of his arousal from Azriel’s tongue as he hauls him up from the wood floor. Whispers of chiffon fall through the air, Elain’s clothes landing at their feet as she stands, her nimble hands working the buttons on his tunic near the base of his wings. He doesn’t normally allow other people to do this for him, but she can. She can. He shifts as she needs him to, mindful of where her small form dances around him, even as Lucien’s hand slides back into his breeches. His thumb slides against the silver ring once more and Azriel moans into his mouth, bucking against his palm as Elain peels his tunic away.

“So sensitive,” Lucien croons, his lips curving into a smile as their foreheads meet. They have matching lumps where the other male headbutted him earlier, and Azriel chuckles as a small jolt of pain reminds him of its presence. Bastard. “Is that why you had this done?”

“No,” he whispers, tugging Lucien’s shirt over his head, keenly aware of the way Elain’s eyeing the bit of jewelry protruding over the top of his waistband. Fuck, fuck, he’s dreamed about her admiring his cock like this but never…never with such intense focus.

“Then why?” she asks, her hand hovering between them. She’s close, so close, he needs her to touch him. He needs. He takes her wrist, guiding her hand but not…not forcing it. But she doesn’t pull away, He shivers as her fingers graze the heated flesh, shifting the piercing experimentally while he shivers between them, completely at her mercy.

“Answer her,” Lucien murmurs, kissing him again to soften the authoritative edge in his tone. So much like Rhys giving a command, the power in his words is abnormal, even for High Fae. But fuck if he doesn’t want to obey anyway. He’d crawl for them if they asked, if Lucien commanded- fuck - “Azriel.”

“I wanted it,” he breathes, too nervous to admit it too loudly. How is he supposed to explain this to them? Even after all this time, there’s still a little shame in the way he wants, the way he needs… “I liked the way it felt. I-I wanted to be hurt.”

“Oh.” Elain says, tugging at his breeches. Unveiling the rest of him. “Oh.”

“It- it doesn’t hurt now, none of it does, but- oh fuck, Elain.” Broken moans fall from his lips as she gives the ring a small, experimental tug. His cock twitches sharply towards his belly, revealing the neat ladder of silver piercings along the underside of his shaft. Cauldron, she’s going to kill him, before he can even be inside of her. Lucien whistles, running his fingers along the small, silver balls capping each bar. Azriel’s head drops to his shoulder as they explore, his breaths faltering while they tease and stroke to their hearts’ content.

Elain’s body slots against his side, her bare breasts brushing against his overheated skin. He strokes a hand along her spine, reaching down to grab a handful of her glorious ass when her warm little mouth closes around the bar running through his nipple and sucks, pulling the most undignified whimper from his throat. Oh shit, oh shit. He’s leaking all over their hands, they’ll make him come if he doesn’t put a stop to this, he can’t. Not until they do.

“Bed,” he pleads, lifting his head to look at Lucien, whose lazy, confident grin is maddening as he gives his cock a teasing squeeze.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” The redhead croons, stealing the answer from his lips with a slow, gentle kiss. Lucien’s teeth graze his lips as they part, a nipping bite he wants more of immediately. “Elain, my love, we should take our bat to bed before we tire him out. He’s had a hard day being impossibly dense-”

“Prick,” Azriel growls, even as Elain trails kisses along his abdomen, peeling away his breeches on her way down. His boots are a little tricky, but he manages to collect himself enough to help her, batting away Lucien’s insistent hand to return some of the blood flow to his brain. Once he’s undressed, they finish removing Lucien’s clothes, tossing them haphazardly as they stumble down the hallway and through the double doors leading to the bedroom, lit by a lone faelight lamp.

He shouldn’t be surprised it’s decorated in shades of green. Dark, rich greens and lighter shades of clover, all tempered with cream accents that are achingly reminiscent of Spring. It had been his home for a long time, it’s natural he’d want to be reminded of it – even here, in a city dedicated to the dark, beautiful night. It reminds Azriel of the old, empty cottage at the edge of his mother’s property. There hasn’t been a proper gardener there in years, the grounds of the estate aren’t as maintained as they used to be-

Lucien shoves him back with a low growl and Azriel allows himself to fall against the plush bedding, his wings relaxed beneath him. He doesn’t usually permit his lovers such freedom with his body, but Elain and Lucien…he wants to give them everything. Anything . He doesn’t need control, not with Elain’s sweet hands running over his skin as she straddles his thigh, the hot, wet heat of her nestled against his leg as she leans in for an experimental lick. Her tongue runs along each piercing before she gets to the tip, flicking the ring with her tongue until he moans, bowing up off the bed.

Lucien settles near his head, languidly stroking his own cock while Elain experiments with him, giggling mischievously as she goes. Gods, gods she’s perfect. And so is he. And Azriel’s going to explode if they don’t fuck him.

“Use me,” he says in invitation, eyeing Lucien’s cock as his hand finds purchase in Elain’s hair. It’s so soft between his fingers, thicker than he’d realized. “You can fuck my mouth-”

“If I do that, I’ll be too distracted to watch Elain make a mess of you, won’t I?” Lucien says, gathering his own precome on his thumb to smear across Azriel’s lower lip, along his skin. “Now, be a good boy and just lie there, Azriel. We’re going to take care of you.”

Be a good boy. He’s such a condescending bastard but fuck him if he didn’t want to come at the sound of those words on Lucien’s lips. He reaches up, wrapping his hand around the back of Lucien’s neck, pulling him down for a long, rough kiss. That takes all of the smugness out of the redheaded prick, at least for a moment. Elain’s soft moans are sweeter than any music as she straddles his hips, lightly rubbing the tip of his cock against her clit. Mother above, he can’t miss this. Lucien pulls back, breathing hard, fire burning in his russet eye as he drops a kiss on Azriel’s forehead. Together, they watch his mate sink onto Azriel’s cock before he can even think to ask if she wants any of his piercings removed. Thank the Cauldron she doesn’t, fuck – the feeling of her sinking onto him, the velvety walls of her pussy- he’s going to die, this is going to kill him.

“Pretty female,” Lucien murmurs, crawling down the bed towards her, claiming her lips with a searing kiss. Their tongues slide together, Lucien’s fingers teasing her rosy nipples as she rides him, so beautiful Azriel can’t even think. He’s lucky, so lucky, oh fuck, her hips - “You’re so close, love.”

“So close,” she whispers, reaching out for Azriel as she leans back against her mate. He threads his fingers through hers, mottled skin against her clear, perfect flesh, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“How does he feel?”

“Perfect.” Azriel flushes under her praise, craving more of it as he tugs her down to him. She sprawls across his chest, not quite tall enough to reach him even from this angle. Leaning up on an elbow, he cradles the back of her head as he draws her lips to his. He savors the sweet flavor of her mouth, her scent wrapping around him like a blanket. Maybe he can convince them to let him stay tonight, to let him have this for just a little longer.

Lucien’s tongue flicks against his balls and his hips stutter, falling out of rhythm as he moans into Elain’s mouth. Her mate continues his slow, sweet torture, sucking the taste of them from his thin, sensitive skin. The slick sounds of him seeking his own pleasure spurs Azriel to free his hand from Elain’s, sliding it between their bodies to circle her clit as Lucien’s mouth moves lower. He’s not prepped for this tonight, but he could make it work – he would make it work, if that’s what Lucien wants. He’ll take whatever he needs to for this sweet gift he’s been given.

Elain’s orgasm tears through her fast and hard, her muscles clenching around him so tightly he has no choice but to come, too, Mother above. She curls against his chest, clinging to him as she grinds helplessly against his hand, lost to her pleasure. Her moans are delicious, a perfect compliment to Lucien’s as Azriel watches through hooded eyes as he paints her back with his release. His brain is fuzzy with post-orgasm bliss as Elain begins to relax against him. Beautiful, they’re so beautiful.

Later, he’s vaguely aware of a warm, damp cloth running over his skin, cleaning them both before they sleepily wriggle their way beneath the blankets, the lamp extinguished. In a few hours, maybe, he’ll wake them for another round. Lucien slides in at Elain’s back, trapping her between them as Azriel’s wings dangle off of the bed. His hand is warm against Azriel’s cheek as his thumb strokes over his cheekbone, casual affection he doesn’t know what to do with. He’s not used to it, these sweet, loving touches. He doesn’t normally stick around this long after without it being previously negotiated. He doesn’t know what to do.

“Sleep, Azriel,” Lucien murmurs, nuzzling the top of Elain’s head. “And don’t leave in the morning.”

“I have to leave at some point.”

“Yes, but I’m asking you not to disappear. Don’t run away, not from us. We want more than just one night.”

“I won’t leave,” he agrees, reaching across Elain to rest his hand on Lucien’s side. “Go to sleep, you tricky fox-”

“Clever, actually. Tremendously clever. Shame you couldn’t keep up.”

“Smug bastard, more like.”

“You’re both ridiculous,” Elain grumbles, tugging Lucien’s arm until it’s across her too, sufficiently tangling them together. Her face is pressed against Azriel’s chest, and it feels so right, so perfect. Azriel’s heart eases a little at the sweet, casual way their fingers stroke along his skin, easing him to sleep wrapped in a kind of peace he never thought could be his.

#you tell them lucien #kiss and make up!#so excited for a part 2 #lucien/elain/azriel #eluzriel #acotar fanfiction #poly!acotar #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d7

55 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Day 6 Masterlist: Courage

Fanfic

"Applewood Embers and Honeyed Jasmine" by @whisperingmidnights (Lucien X Elain X Azriel)

"The Courage to Stay" by @sonics-atelier (Tamlin X Lucien X Andras)

"Catch Me When I Fall: Spring Time Affairs" by @nocasdatsgay (OC [Flora] X Tamlin X Elain X Lucien

"Secret Admirers" by @potatoplace (Reader X Feyre X Rhysand)

"A Few Beginnings" by @manicmanuscription (Reader X Feysand X Inner Circle X Lucien)

"Leap Of Faith" by @slytherin-pen (Reader X Hunt X Bryce)

"Locked Away" by @danikamariewrites (Reader X Rowan X Lorcan X Fenrys X Gavriel)

"Can we kiss and make up?" by @daycourtofficial (Reader X Nesta X Azriel)

"you're the venom, i'm the serpent" masterlist by @throneofsapphics (Reader X Rowan X Aelin)

If your creation is missing or you see an issue with the masterlist, please reach out to the blog so we can rectify it!

32 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Note

I am working on my creation but don't think I'll finish in time to post today, is it okay to tag late submissions or would you prefer not?

We will reblog late creations, so feel free to tag! But depending on how late they may not make the initial masterlist post. Hope this helps! Thank you for reaching out.

#poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek #poly+sjmweekask #poly+sjmweekanon

1 note · View note

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Hijacked

PolySJM Week: Day Seven

Prompt: Why Choose?

Pairings: Mafia!Bat Boys / Clueless!Reader

Summary: Everybody know’s you’re theirs….except for you. Time to make it official? Mafia bat boys & clueless waitress inspired by @ jacfrostisreal on TikTok, continued one shot of the prompt on 4/9.

Word Count: 2164

Tags: slightly dom batboys, sexual tension is crazyyy, fluff, (most likely grammar mistakes bc author is lazy af.)

a/n: this offically concludes polysjmweek!! thank you all so much for reading and make sure to go check out all the other amazing authors who participated either through the tags or @polysjmweek this was so so so fun for me! ily all.

PolySJM Week 2025 Masterlist | Acotar Masterlist

A quick peek around the dining area told me what I already knew. It was slow tonight, I double checked the entrance through the tall windows overlooking the city and with a satisfied smirk that no one was coming I made my way to Marisa’s office.

Sevenda’s was a high end restaurant, the lobby was decked out in marble finishes and elaborate paintings. The dining area had dim lighting and secluded tables for privacy and elegance, the upper tables overlooking the entire floor plan were a coveted seats; those spots however were usually reserved for Rhysand and his friends. The bar was tucked away in the corner and I gave Eiran a quick wave as I skipped past him to the adjoining hallway.

This was probably the least elegant area of the entire restaurant, the walls were plain with a few sconces but almost all of the doors lining it were locked. My heels quieted on the plush red carpet and I knocked on Marisa’s office, when I heard her muffled voice I poked my head inside.

“Heyyyyy.” I sing-songed.

“Oh god what did you do?” She barely looked up from her paperwork as I slid in the room, and even though she pretended to be horrified I could still hear the slight humor bleeding through. I scoffed as I stood in front of her desk crossing my arms. “Nothing, come on I’m the best employee ever.”

“Uh-huh. Well there’s still time for disaster.” She said absentmindedly and I laughed a little bit as she searched for a pen in her very messy desk. “What do you need girlie?”

“I was wondering if you saw my time off request?”

“No I haven’t had a chance to look over it, I’m so sorry it’s been so crazy.” “Don’t worry I totally get it! no pressure but will you let me know when you do?”

“I’ll do it right now, hold on.” Marisa moved to her computer with her spinning chair and typed her password in fast, pulling up the admin system we used. “What do you need it for and when?”

A blush spread across my cheeks but Mari and I were friends so I had no problem telling her. “Well I have a date this Friday night, I know it’s super last minute but he’s so cute. I'm excited.”

Marisa froze, her spine locking and when she finally looked at me from the entire time I’d been here, it’s as if she’d seen a ghost. “I know, I know my luck with men is terrible but I have high hopes for him!” I continued talking, it would make sense why she was concerned for him, the last year or so I met someone they always ended up ghosting me or worse.

I was fucking around with this really hot man I’d met off tinder, we even hooked up after the first few dates but I didn’t hear from him ever again. When I saw a different date at the grocery store a few weeks after he ghosted me his face paled and he pretended I never existed, even walking in the opposite direction. He had been sporting a few bruises so obviously I didn’t want him anyways right? Violent men weren’t worth it.

It hurt of course and my determination was slowly dwindling but like I said I had high hopes for this one.

Men will be men right?

Marisa bit her lip, her fingers slightly hovering over the keyboard and she changed tabs. “Oh my gosh that sounds so fun! I’m happy for you! You know what though....Rhysand Is actually handling all of the time off requests now.” She said typing a quick message on her phone.

“Really?”

“Yes…I’m so sorry, he’s been trying to be more involved in the restaurant…since it’s his afterall, his and his brother’s I mean. You should go ask him!” Marisa rambled when she was nervous.. Or stressed and I felt bad for interrupting her obviously busy night with a task she couldn’t even help me with. She was looking at me as if she knew something I didn’t and I just paused.

“Right now?” I asked, taking a peek through the almost closed door, Rhyand’s office was a few doors down taunting me. I hadn’t really talked to him and his brother’s after they stitched up my hand. Mortification at the vulnerability and intimacy of it all was still eating me alive.

When I got home I had a chance to look in the mirror and I had been such a mess. My hair frizzy, pieces coming out of the bun, my eyes were puffy from crying and I’d even chewed my lip so much it had bled.

I cannot believe I let only just three insanely attractive men but also my freaking bosses see me like that, even if I was actively bleeding. It was just damned embarrassing.

“Yes, he’s with his brother’s but they're not busy.” “Are you sure?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek. If she was lying to me and I interrupted them especially after the hand incident I swear to god I was moving to a different country.

One time I had come down here to talk to them since Marisa was gone. Unbeknownst to me one of Rhysand’s investors was meeting with them. He had made a few distasteful and offhand comments and it was pretty mild to things i’d experienced but Cassian had been so mad. I didn’t want to interrupt anything again and upset them.

“No no no, your fine girl, trust me, I texted him.” She smiled at me, the color slowly returning to her cheeks as if she was forcing herself to breathe.

“Ok…” I muttered, giving her a quick thanks before striding to Rhysand’s office, my hand hovering above the dark wood before finally giving it a soft tap.

“Come in!” He called and I stepped in the room plastering a smile on my face as I finally faced them. Alone. In his office.

Yeah there was no escaping this awkwardness. Maybe the date with him wasn’t worth it.

Rhysand said my name in greeting, Cassian and Azriel were sitting down in the chairs opposite Rhysand’s desk, they were slightly turned and when I walked in they shifted in their seats so they could fully look at me.

Whereas Marisa’s office was messy and disorganized, papers and pens strewn about Rhysand’s was immaculate, neat and perfectly organized. Decorated with dark woods and plush furniture. It was weird to see a restaurant office so sophisticated but Rhysand spent most of his time here and he had the money to do whatever he wanted I suppose.

“Hi guys!” I chirped, unconsciously stepping further into the room with a nod from Rhysand. God they were all staring at me and had my toes curling. “Hello sweetheart.” Cassian smiled, his gaze roved up my body making me simultaneously want to run away and crawl to him.

This is why being along with them was dangerous. They were professional, I was professional. Everyone was professional and really nice, they were always checking in on me and making sure everyone was ok and I needed to stop reading into things.

“How's the hand?” Azriel asked, nursing what looked to be a glass of whiskey I waved the bandaged hand in front of me. “Feeling so much better! Almost completely healed. Thank you again by the way.”

A slight and rare smile barely touched the edge of his lips and I was a fucking goner. “That’s good and you’re welcome.”

Rhysand leaned forward on the desk bracing his elbows on the wood. Jesus christ I don’t think any of their eyes had strayed from mine since I stepped in this room. “What can we do for you?”

“Well Marisa told me that you’re in charge of time-off notices now.”

A knowing glint in his eye as he shared a brief look with Azriel before that predatory gaze was back on me. “Yes..it’s a new development.”

“Well I was just wondering if I could have this Friday off. I know it’s super last minute so I completely understand if you can't” I paused. “ it’s... .for a date.” I added, unsure why that piece of information was relevant but the way all three of them were looking at me their attention completely focused, had me squirming slightly.

Cassian shared a harsh look with Azriel and it was so annoying that they could seemingly talk without saying any words. Rhysand however lifted his hand, placing his fist under his chin and cocked his head at me, all three of them exuded dominance and power. Rhys eye’s completely captured my own. That piercing gaze had my stomach flipping in knots and I shifted on my feet slightly.

It was as if the very air itself was charged with that single sentence I uttered, something shifting intrinsically and it had my instincts on high alert.

“You can have the day off-” -Cassian growled in protest and hope fluttered in my chest until he continued speaking with that frustratingly even tone. “But not for a night out with Kenny.”

“Sorry?” I paused my brows furrowing in confusion, the hope squashed. Azriel muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out that made the other men smirk ever so slightly.

Rhysand leaned back in his seat. “You can have it for a night out with us darling.”

I completely stilled. My mouth dropping open at his statement. Had I heard that correctly?

My heart was beating a million miles per minute, my breathing hitched and something akin to happiness fluttered in my chest. Even as my brain hesitated.

“I– Sorry… I Excuse you?”

“She’s cute when she’s flustered.” Cassian spoke with a rakish grin and Azriel hid that growing smirk behind his whiskey glass. Heat curled in my belly and I tried to ignore them.

“Take the time to process however you need to love but he meant what he said.” Azriel commented -fuck his voice-

I put my hands up shaking my head in disbelief, laughing a little bit. “Sorry- I what- I just..am a bit confused.”

“What are you confused about baby?” Cassian questioned his smirk growing even wider as if he knew what the endearment did to me. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Was this really happening? Had I unknowingly stepped through a portal? “I just- You’re my employers”

“Yes.. We are.” Rhysand nodded, his smile growing almost as big as Cassian’s.

“You’re brothers.”

“In a way, yes.”

“And you want me.”

“Oh absolutely.” Cassian leaned further forward in his chair, those strong hands gripping the armrests tighter.

I felt like my brain had just melted. A broken record with only one song skipping over the same two lines and making an awful sound. I completely glitched out, my brain looping on shock. Maybe I wasn’t crazy, they were obviously interested in me. Part of me also felt like this was entirely out of the blue, they were nice to everyone in this restaurant as far as I’d seen but my ego was definitely getting stroked at the thought they wanted me.

“Like together.”

“Yes.”

“Like you want to share me together.”

“Yes.”

“Like not individually. Together, together.”

“Yes love.”

“Okay….” I said pausing, taking a look at the floor while I processed this information. I’d been working here for almost two years now and my incredibly attractive bosses wanted to share me.

With each other.

“Ok..Ok….hm.” I mumbled. I opened my mouth to speak but Azriel cut in. “Look at us when you’re talking love.” Fuck. Me. Cassian’s voice was rough, Rhysand’s smooth and elegant but Azriel…fuck it was deep and commanding and rolled over my skin like a soft caress. They were playing unfair.

I obeyed the command without thinking and I once again got to witness that rare smile playing on the broody male's lips. They were really making it hard for me to see the logic of this scenario, even harder to process what the hell was going on.. “So you want to share me.”

“We’ve already established this, yes.”

“Like sexually or romantically?” I added a bit nervously. The men shared a look once again. “We want you in whatever way you’ll have us.” Cassian urged.

Rhysand stood from the desk, each step slow and measured until he was standing right in front of me. “Just let us take you on one date, if it’s horrible and you hate it then you never have to speak to us again. We can go about here like normal or we’ll even help you find a new job if you wish, but if you love it then we’ll talk more.”

“With all three of you?” I whispered out.

“With all three of us.” Rhysand grinned again.

“On Friday night.”

“Yes, darling. This Friday night we’ll pick you up at seven.”

They all paused waiting for an answer. I cannot believe I was even considering doing this. But fuck it. My luck with men had been so shit and it would probably be horrible anyways, most of me was screaming that was a terrible idea. Don’t fuck around with the people who handle your freaking paychecks!! But there was just something about them... of course i’d fantasized about them who wouldn’t? And here they were offering themselves opening the door to something I’d shut down. Oh I was so utterly fucked.

“Ok.” I agreed, all three of them giving me incredibly victorious grins.

“See you on Friday baby.”

Taglist: @sstrohma

A/N: I think I’m making this a series! let me know if you want to be added to the tag list and as always thank you for reading.

#so much TENSION #it cuts like a knife #poly!bat boys x reader #acotar x reader #poly!acotar x reader #poly!acotar #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d7

373 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

A Few Beginnings

PolySJM Week: Day Six

Prompt: Courage

Pairings: Feysand / Reader (+ Lucien + Inner Circle at the end.)

Summary: Being mated to the High Lord and Lady is intimidating, you either have to let them go or take a leap of faith.

Word Count: 1285

Tags: self sabotaging-reader, anxiety, fluff, slight angst.

PolySJM Week 2025 Masterlist | Acotar Masterlist

The warm summer wind of Velaris brushed the hair away from my shaking form.

I was terrified for how this day was going to go to say the least. I’d spent the last few weeks holed up in my apartment letting my anxious mind run every possible worst case scenario. I’d even thought about packing my bags and simply leaving the night court.

Ophelia had yelled at me when I’d told her that.

It was just….scary.

The mating bond snapped between me and The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court a few weeks ago on a random wednesday. I was visiting my friend’s shop in The Rainbow and quite literally bumped into my High Lady. I’d apologized of course and the second those eyes met mine it was like the air itself seemed to change, the golden thread clicking into place so violently in my chest it knocked the breath out of me. My High Lord had appeared a few moments later and it had happened again.

My friend had just kept talking to me as if my entire world hadn’t just shattered, just shifted so profoundly there would never be going back.

Mates. I had mates.

Plural.

The rest of that day was a blur but they ended up courting me for a few weeks until…

I just got scared, so I pulled away. I ran. They weren’t just rulers of a whole country but one of the most powerful ones. They were kind, well-spoken, funny, and extremely gorgeous. The list goes on and on.

I was just…me.

They intimidated me, with their boldness, with their generosity. I shouldn’t be falling so fast and hard but I was. What was my place within their home? Their family? Hell even their Court?

The intensity of my feelings scared me, they already had each other and if they one day woke up and realized it was a mistake to bring me into their relationship. Gods I would never survive it.

They had given me the space I requested, occasional brushes against my mental shields just to check in or a bouquet sent to the house. They were already so close, they’d been together for years they even had a child together. They survived under the mountain together, a war, even death itself.

How was I supposed to fit in that history? I refused to be an option, a game to somehow make them stronger not with something so cherished and rare.

I knew I was spinning out, my head my biggest enemy and Ophelia had sat with me for days while I got myself sorted.

Until she got sick of my self sabotaging behaviors, stood up from my sofa and yelled at me for forty five minutes straight, stormed out to her apartment across the hall and came back five minutes later all riled up once again.

“Why do you never let yourself have something good, this could be one of the best things to ever happen to you!”

“But-”

“Don’t interrupt me. You don’t know if you don’t try, I'm not in charge of you or your life but I just..stop letting your fears control you. You're too good for that.”

So now I am here, three and a half weeks later from my initial request for space. I’d sent them a letter asking to meet and their response was almost immediate. Their scent had faintly stuck to the page, making me lightheaded. The bond thrumming ever so softly.

I’d gotten lost in my thoughts not even noticing I had reached the restaurant until the familiar cobblestone paved into dark bricks. Rita’s was closed and a few of the employee’s still setting up for the night of debauchery ahead of Velaris but she had left the door unlocked as a favor to Rhysand. I slipped inside the back entrance and headed to the main floor.

I’d suggested Rita’s as neutral ground. Feyre had mentioned in passing that she’d grown to love this place and it was close enough to my sister’s house in case anything went wrong.

And there they were, eyes shifting over the floor as if searching until they landed on me. Something akin to hope in their gazes and my heart started beating a hundred miles per minute. The bond absolutely glowing in my chest at being the center of their attention.

Each step I took closer I repeated Ophelia’s words in my head like a mantra.

You don’t know if you don’t try.

I smiled as I reached the table, pulling out a chair and getting myself sorted.You don’t know if you don’t try. I don’t know how but I finally found the strength to look them in their eyes. Cauldron they were absolutely stunning.

I can do this. I can try, I can allow myself to be safe, to be loved, to be open.

“Hi.” I whispered.

“Hello Darling.” Rhysand’s deep voice rolled over me, something primal awakening at the sound. Feyre’s voice was the opposite, high and alluring but still having the same effect, my heart skipping a beat. “You look lovely.”

I took a deep breath letting all my anxiety bleed into the floor. I felt safe in their presence and that terrified me. Terrified it wouldn’t last or be ripped away from me like everything else.

You don’t know if you don’t try.

“Thank you,” I said with a blush, letting hope bloom in my chest, letting the bond pull me exactly where I’d always belonged, letting myself try.

————————

Rhysand had barely shut the door behind him, not even had a chance to take his shoes off or kiss his son until the faces of his Inner Circle appeared in front of him. Gathering at the stairs like lost puppies.

Feyre would have laughed if it weren’t such a serious situation. Her mind reeling from their conversion with you. She was still smiling even though they’d long left Rita’s, gods you were perfect.

Her family wasn’t the type to mope, yet they all looked like they weren’t breathing.

“How was it?” Nesta asked a bit harshly, her firm voice unwavering yet Feyre saw the slight tremble in her hands, Cassian placed a hand on her shoulder, unwillingly to look his High Lord and Lady in the eye as if whatever they had to say could somehow be avoided.

“Excellent.” Feyre beamed sharing a knowing look with her mate, she knew he was feeling just as victorious as she was, when you first asked for space they’d all spiraled slightly.

Her family seemed to take a collective intake of air. Their shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

“Can we meet her?” Azriel whispered, his shadows swirling around his shoulders ever so erratically. If Rhysand hadn’t known the male for a few hundred years he wouldn't be able to read his anxiety.

“Soon.” The High Lord spoke and Lucien and Cassian protested.

“It’s not everyday that your mated to nine people, we’re going slow.” Rhysand commanded, the order settling into the very stone of the house.

“Especially since you idiots almost had her running the second you met her.” Amren snorted under breath and Mor giggled.

Gods Rhysand prayed you wouldn’t run when you found out, he’d heard a stray thought or two from you and it nearly sent him winnowing to your apartment and taking you far far away, the mating bond screaming at him to do something.

“Tell us how it went.”

And they did, settling into one of the many living rooms with a few bottles of wine, the Inner Circle hanging off their every word.

a/n: I was just going to do feysand x reader because who doesn't love feysand but imagining the entire IC being mated to one female and being awkwardly obsessed weirdos was tooooooo good thank you for reading ily

#imagine having them all doting on you #overwhelming and incredible all at once #feysand x reader #inner circle x reader #poly!acotar #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d6

236 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Blessed with love, cursed with folly

Pairing: Azriel x reader x Cassian x Nesta | WC: 3.5k | Warnings: mentions/concerns of infidelity

Summary: being mated to the Night Court’s shadowsinger is where the story should end. You have your happily ever after. Everything is fine - until the little, teeny tiny crush you had on the mated pair you live with begins roaring back to life.

Author’s note: basically idiots in love (my favorite!). I had initially planned this for last poly week, but it sat in my drafts rip. Want to thank everyone who gave me the push to finish this and also I am not editing this bc I’m lazy and am now obsessed with another fic. Also happy end to @polysjmweek !! Hope you had a great time 🫶🏻

“Nesta!”

You are sitting on the loveseat in the foyer of the House of Wind, Nesta on your right, the books you handed to each other open on your laps.

“What?” She asks, not looking up from her own book as she eats a handful of almonds.

“This is entirely smut!”

“No it’s not - they have a few conversations and they go to dinner.”

“Then have sex in the restaurant’s bathroom!”

You laugh at her, hitting her with the book. She watches you from the corner of her eye, noting that despite your protests, you’re still reading it as you talk to her.

And if your smell is anything to go off of, you’re enjoying it too.

You stretch your legs out, putting them over Nesta’s lap as you continue reading. You’re trying to figure out exactly how their bodies in the book are contorted - somehow he was behind her but kneeling in front of her too, when Nesta’s hand gently rubs up and down your calf.

Your breath hitches, but you try to keep reading. You were a mated female, for cauldron’s sake. Your little crush on Nesta should have gone away long ago. It was tiny, miniscule, microscopic even. Not even worth mentioning to Azriel.

But as you keep reading about the female in the book going down on her girlfriend, your thoughts stray more and more to Nesta’s hand on your calf.

How her fingers could trail up your leg, moving up your thigh, underneath your skirt-

Your breath hitches, not letting your thoughts stray too far. You try to focus back on your book, your eyes rereading the same paragraph over and over again. You think too hard about your breathing, trying to keep it even and steady as Nesta’s fingers make circles on your skin.

Cassian’s entrance is a welcomed distraction, his loud footsteps echoing through the hall jolting you, causing Nesta’s hand to clamp on your calf to keep it in place. Neither you nor Nesta move from your position, but you feel almost caught as Cassian walks into the room, as if he’ll look at the two of you and think the worst.

Just like you were doing moments ago.

He smiles as he sees you two, a big goofy thing that overtakes his face. “My girls!”

He walks by, quickly kissing Nesta on the cheek and rubbing the top of your head before heading off into the kitchen. He came back a moment later, a bowl of grapes in his hand before stopping in front of the loveseat you and Nesta took up.

“This won’t do,” he grunts, and you start to look up, wondering what he’s talking about, until he picks you up and places you gently in Nesta’s lap.

He sinks into the spot you were occupying, making a big show of settling in before popping a grape into his mouth. “Much better.”

Your heart is racing in your chest, sure that Nesta is moments away from pushing you away from her. You look over, expecting her ire, but she’s just reading her book.

Cassian focuses on his grapes, Nesta focuses on her book, so you try to calm your breathing and lean into Nesta, letting your head rest on her shoulder.

She wraps her arms around you to keep her book in front of her face, and Cassian grabs your ankles, draping your legs over his lap. You tap your foot lightly on Cassian’s thigh before picking your book back up, trying to focus on the people in the book rather than the two beneath you.

You head down to the kitchen in search of a quick snack. Your socked feet pad across the floor, searching through cabinets trying to remember where the good snacks were. All of Azriel and Cassian’s disgusting snacks littered the bottom shelves, packages and packages of dried vegetables, meats, and fruits. You wrinkle your nose just at the thought of the texture.

You look up each row of the shelf and your eyes catch on the white packaging of what you were looking for: the white box of heavenly cookies. You place your hands on the counter, about to climb up the shelves to reach it when someone presses up against you from behind, their arm reaching over your head for your cookies.

You spin around, finding Cassian’s chest in your eyeline, having to tilt your head back to look up at him. He smirks down at you, holding the package of cookies in his hand.

“Is this what you wanted?”

You pout up at him, trying for your best pitiful look. You have been craving these cookies all day and Cassian’s on the verge of getting hit if he doesn’t drop them soon enough.

“Give me a kiss.”

“What?” His terms confuse you, how openly he asks for it. Couldn’t Nesta or Azriel walk in and see the two of you?

“You have to pay for the cookies. Nothing comes for free.”

“Cassian, this is a magic house. Everything is free.”

He only taps his cheek, a smug look on his face. He even crouches forward a bit, getting closer to you. You sigh before stretching up, cradling his face to keep you steady. His jaw is scratchy as you hold it in place, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

His skin is warm and it sends tingles down your spine to be so close to him, his brown eyes fully on you. You clear your throat, trying to break up some of the intimacy of the moment.

“Cookies, please.”

He opens the box, handing you exactly one cookie before starting to walk off with the box. He gives you an exaggerated wink, calling out over his shoulder, “you know where to find me for more.”

A lump of guilt sinks to your stomach, weighing you down to the spot.

A few days later, the four of you are heading off to the River House. Feyre and Rhys are hosting family dinner and they tasked you with ensuring Nesta and Cassian not only arrived on time but also fully dressed.

It is half an hour until you all need to leave. You’re moving through the house on their floor, heading to give them a half an hour warning. You think it’s the best way to ensure a prompt arrival - if you bother them every ten minutes, they’ll have to finish at some point.

You shiver at the thought.

You knock on their door, surprised to not hear anything on the other side of it. Odd.

Every day after training, the two usually spend a few hours tangled in their sheets together, loud enough for the whole house to hear. On several occasions you and Azriel have attempted to keep them up by being loud. That plan always backfires somehow - either they don’t care or they somehow become louder themselves.

“Nesta, Cassian. We have to go in thirty minutes.” You warn through the door but you’re still not sure anyone’s in there. You briefly consider walking in and chastising them to ensure their promptness, but decide against it.

You have to swallow down your feelings for them. Seeing them in any compromising positions won’t help any. Family dinners are manageable. Alone, one on one time? That’s where the problem starts.

Your gut churns with guilt, concern over Azriel taking root as you walk down the hall.

You make it to the den before stopping in the entryway. The balcony doors are open, letting a fresh breeze trail through the room. Cassian and Nesta stand in the middle of the room, dressed for the evening, in the middle of a conversation. Cassian is quick to look up at you, a smile stretching across his face.

“Ah, you’re here! You can settle our argument.”

Nesta rolls her eyes before sweeping her gaze up and down your body. How could the flick of one’s eyes have such an effect on you?

“It’s what I’m here for, Cass.”

“Good.” He nods approvingly, only standing about a few away from you. “We’re debating what color this room should be.”

Of all the things Cassian and Nesta fought about, this felt so random you had to let out a soft chuckle. They both look at you expectantly, waiting for a response.

“Um, well how does the house feel about that?” The two of them look at each other, slightly puzzled looks on their faces.

“The house?”

“Yes. It’s sentient, isn’t it?”

“I hadn’t considered asking…” Nesta trails off, looking around the room as if she’s seeing it for the first time.

“Okay.. well, anyway, we have to get going for family dinner.”

“What about Az?”

“Az is meeting us there.”

That was odd. Azriel never let you fly with anyone else. He’s too paranoid.

Or ‘overly cautious’ as he would put it.

“How am I getting there?”

“With me, of course.” Cassian flexes his arms, showboating his muscles. The movement’s playful, his face full of the cocky grin that makes him look irresistible.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. I can carry my girls to the continent if need be.”

His girls. Your face heats up, unable to contain how that made you feel. It was said with no hesitation and so casually. The first time he said it a week ago you thought it might have been a fluke.

Now you don’t want to analyze too hard. He cares about you - isn’t that enough for you?

You nod absentmindedly, locking your gaze on the floor to avoid looking at him. It’s then that you remember Azriel.

And you hate how long it took to remember him.

“You said Az will meet us there? Is he okay?” You stammer out, having lost any confidence in this conversation, all of it replaced with guilt.

“His meeting with Rhys is running long, figured he could just wait there for us instead.”

Shame swirls in your gut as you feel that connection between the two of you. Azriel’s side had been cut off all morning - a sure sign he’s working. He needs full concentration honed from years of dedication, but something about the bond distracts him, makes him slightly distracted.

But Azriel always made time for you. You’ve never flown with anyone who wasn’t him. When you first mated, Cassian enjoyed riling him up by acting like he was going to fly you somewhere, never following through.

Azriel should be here. He would be here.

Unless he knows you’re drooling over your roommates, unable to keep your thoughts straight around them. It’s just a crush. You’ll get over it. You have to.

You couldn’t lose Azriel over something like this.

“Ready to go?” You look up to find a much softer look on Cassian’s face, his eyes focusing on you.

“Mhmm.” You nod, shifting awkwardly on your feet. Cassian’s hand starts to reach out, to do what you’re not sure, but he hesitates before dropping it. He nods before turning to the balcony doors, opening his arms for you and Nesta to join him.

“It’ll be okay,” Nesta says, putting an arm around your shoulder. Her fingers rub into your skin, her voice soft as you step onto the balcony. “He’s a good flyer.”

“I’m a great flyer, Nes.”

You lean into Nesta’s touch involuntarily, smiling at Cassian’s rebuttal.

“You sure you can handle us both?”

The sun pours in from the balcony, casting Cassian’s face in shadow until he steps closer to you. His hands come down on your shoulders, one of them meeting Nesta’s hand still draped around you.

“I’ve got you. Always. I won’t let anything happen to either of you.” You nod, some of the fears kept just at bay enough for you to do this.

“Let’s go. We don’t want to be late.” At your words, Cassian quickly snatches the two of you in his arms before running for the balcony. You hide your face in his neck, scrambling to find something to hold onto. Your hand finds Nesta’s, and you grip it tight as Cassian launches into the sky, your shrieks causing him to go faster.

“Why hasn’t either of our bonds snapped for her yet?”

Azriel’s face softens at Nesta’s tone, feeling her frustration in his chest as she sits next to him on the couch. One of his wings stretches out behind her, cradling her gently.

“I don’t know,” he tugs at his hair, exhaling loudly. “It took a while for it to snap for her and I. I think she just.. needs time to adjust to changes.”

Cassian throws his hands up before dragging them down his face. “Adjust to changes? We’re in love with her, Azriel!”

“And you.” Nesta chimes in, rubbing his back lightly. “We don’t want to keep hiding it.”

“I know, I know. But she was a little slow warming up to the idea of our bond, can’t imagine how she’ll respond to two more.” Azriel had waited for the bond to snap for you before admitting it, only leading to a massive fight over the Mother making choices for you that you weren't ready for. It had been nearly disastrous and it took him weeks to coax you back into living in the House of Wind, even longer to convince you he didn’t want anything you weren’t giving freely. It was a time period that was better kept in the past.

“She’ll love it, but she needs time. She doesn’t adapt well to change, and you two know it. Ease her into it.”

Cassian sits down on the couch, elbows on knees, looking downtrodden. In a voice softer than Cassian was known for, he whispers, “what if she doesn’t want us, Az?”

Azriel pats the seat next to him, rubbing Cassian’s thigh once he sits down. Cassian leans into his shoulder, letting his weight rest on Azriel. He knows that Azriel’s and Nesta’s love are more than enough, but his heart yearns for you, the bonds in his chest feeling duller without you there on the other end. Each day without your acknowledgment of the bond felt endless.

“She does, though. I know you feel it. She feels something around the two of you.”

The three warriors squished together on a too-small couch, arms around each other, the ebb and flow of their mating bonds singing around them. They all breathe deeply at the proximity, enjoying Azriel’s presence with them.

It had been hard for Cassian and Nesta - the bond with you had snapped for them a few weeks ago, both too afraid to talk to either you or Azriel about it. In an act of annoyance, Azriel found them in the dining room one day, determined to find out why they were avoiding the both of you, when the bond snapped for the three of them.

They had come clean to Azriel that you were also their mate, and they decided after the shitshow that was you finding out about your mating with Azriel, they would approach things differently, try to get the bond to snap for you.

Cassian and Nesta had started doing things for you - cleaning up after you, taking you to dinner, bringing you flowers. None of it worked.

Cassian’s plan of him and Nesta sneaking into your bedchambers in the middle of the night to wake up with you was immediately rejected. He was hard pressed that he could convince you you had memory issues and the four of you have been happily mated for years.

Nesta and Azriel were quick to shoot that idea down.

So the current plan is to flirt. A lot.

The three were less than hopeful that it was working.

It had been a few days since that flight with Cassian and you had done the mature thing: hiding from everyone, only seeing Azriel when you slipped into bed at the end of the day, spending all of your time tucked away.

It’s not the best way to go about the situation, but you don’t know a better solution. Guilt eats at you for a few days until one afternoon your feet move through the house, whisking you to your bedchambers.

Azriel’s sitting on the bed, his shirt gone, his boots half toed off when you walk in. Training must have just ended, a slight musk coming off him that has you slightly needy.

You need to focus.

“Azriel, I have to talk to you.”

He straightens up, giving you his full attention.

“I-“ in your desperation to get her, to pour your heart out, you hadn’t figured out what you would say to him.

“I think- I think I might have feelings for Nesta and Cassian.”

You stare at him, waiting for the cold, hard stare you expect to find. The impassive look he gives everyone else, not portraying a single emotion. A deep, big laugh erupts from him instead. You step back, never having heard him be so vocal before.

“I’m being serious, Azriel. I feel awful.”

That sends him howling, his head tipping back so his laughter can reach the ceiling.

��Azriel! It’s not funny! Now, we can move out or try to figure out what to do next.”

He doesn’t hear you, only reaches out to rest his hands on your hips, his fingers digging in slightly when you try to pull back.

“Nesta! Cassian!” You jump into his lap, trying to shush his mouth with your hands. You felt embarrassed enough by the situation, you didn’t need him bringing the objects of your affection into this.

He laughs into your hands, delicately holding your wrists.

The door opens, the couple looking amused as they stand in the doorway.

“Did you invite us up here to watch?” Cassian’s joke causes your face to heat even more, that ache in between your legs becoming worse.

“Tell them what you told me,” Azriel whispers into your ear, his hands still holding your wrists.

“Azriel, it’s not funny. This is mean.”

His hands cradle your face, his eyes full of sincerity as he looks up at you. Something about him gives you the bravery to speak, not looking toward the pair in the doorway.

“I might have a crush on the two of you.”

Silence fills the room, the second lasting a lifetime until you hear a soft “thank the Mother” before a large body obstructs your view. Cassian’s body collides with yours, pushing you and Azriel down into the mattress. His weight is crushing as his arms wrap completely around you, reaching to Azriel’s back.

“What is happening?” You manage to get out between heaving breaths, Cassian’s wings making it hard to breathe. A softer hand caresses one of yours, Nesta’s cool skin sending shivers through your body.

“We’ve waited so long to hear you say that.”

You’re stunned into silence, no idea how to respond. Had they wanted you too? Leaning into her touch, Cassian picks up where she left off.

“Thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Figure what out?” You mumble into his shoulder.

“That the four of us are mates,” Azriel speaks into your ear, his voice low but just loud enough for all of you to hear. His words send some wave of recognition through you, your heart beating wildly at some deep realization.

He’s right. Wrapped around your heart is the mating bond you share with Azriel. Familiar, a deep part of you that became known to you years ago. But when you searched deep enough, you felt two other strings around it, buried amidst the cobwebs of Azriel’s tether to you.

You pluck softly on the strings, a song vibrating deep in your chest as you feel it lighten up your chest. Things made sense now.

It all made so much sense.

Why you couldn’t stop thinking about them. Why you felt slightly off balance. Why things had seemed only partway right.

Nesta and Cassian are also your mates.

“So I have.. three mates?” You ask, still not quite grasping the concept.

“Yes.” It all clicks into place. How you could be so attracted to fae who weren’t Azriel. How nonchalant they all seemed about living together. How happy everyone was no matter how much guilt had settled in your chest.

It feels right laying here with the three of them, even if Cassian is squishing you. The bonds in your chest swirl with delight and eagerness, but most of all content.

“We’re going to need a bigger bed.” The three around you laugh as Nesta falls into bed next to the giant bundle the three of you made. There are discussions to be had and things to figure out, arrangements to be made and questions that will come up.

But right now you bask in the laughter and how full your heart feels.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-angst @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl @quiet-loser @thegreyjoyed @paankhaleyaaar @acoazlove @theflowerswillbloom @readingintooblivion

#idiots in love indeed #these three will treat reader so right #azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #poly!acotar #nesta x reader x azriel #nesta x cassian x reader #nesta x cassian x azriel x reader #cassian x nesta x reader #poly!nessian #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d7

280 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

you're the venom, i'm the serpent prologue

dark poly!rowaelin x reader

summary: with each journal prompt, you couldn't decide if you lost or regained more of you. years dedicated to them, tossed away when you'd had enough. little did you know, Rowan and Aelin have a plan ... but even they can't decide if it's to get you back or make you suffer.

warnings: breakups, emotional turmoil, while this fic is dark and deals with dubious themes, the reader consents to everything that’s happening, which will continue to become clearer through the fic!

a/n: written for day 7 of @polysjmweek

series masterlist // chapter one (coming soon)

When did you realize you'd never mean as much to them as they do to you?

The words lingered on the page of your journal, the one your friends recommended. They said it would help, but right now … all you felt was pain. Pain at ripping open a wound that barely had the chance to close, if at all.

It would be a miracle if you made it through this intact. You were already shattered, like pieces of glass on carpet, hiding and waiting to strike at the right moment. In your pain, you drove away all but a select few who refused to give up on you. Those few would never know how much it meant to you. Thinking of their faces, the cautious hope when you'd accepted your gift, gave you the strength to return to the page.

When did you realize you'd never mean as much to them as they do to you?

Dipping your pen into the ink pot, you tapped off the excess and angled your head. Air leaving your lungs, arm tensing, teeth digging into bottom lip, you let yourself go back there. Pen scratched against paper.

One week earlier.

Rowan paced in front of the fireplace, wallowing in misery of his own creation. Even if it was perhaps the most honest thing he'd said to you in…months.

“We're mates, what did you expect?”

For some reason he hadn't expected your tears, didn't have time to set expectations.

“Thank you,” you'd said, tears running silently down your cheeks. He thought you looked beautiful like that, in a tragic way.

“Why?” He responded flatly.

Mouth pursed, as if you might regret the words that came next. Rowan wished you would, at least he'd know you're saying how you truly feel then.

“I know now,” your hand twitched, “that I'll never mean as much to you as you do to me. I always saw us as equals,” you sucked in the word like venom seeping into your veins, as if he was the serpent who'd struck sure, “but I won't stand here and beg for you. You can tell Aelin what happened.”

“Aelin would agree with me,” the words were instinctive but uncertain. He was treading in waters he'd hoped to never cross, but knew he always would one day.

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hands.

Closing the book, you let tears drip down your cheeks, wetting the leather cover. Not a particularly emoting volume, but the ending got you. Rowan was there in an instant, as if he'd scented the salt of your tears on the winds he carried with him. Moving the book to the side, he gripped your chin with one hand, the back of his other wiping away the tears. He pressed a kiss on the tracks left behind.

“I don't like seeing you cry, beautiful,” he murmured.

“It's just a book,” you sighed, laughing softly as he eyed the book like he wanted to rip it and its author to pieces for hurting you. “Aelin wouldn't appreciate that, it's hers.” The look in his eyes softened at her name.

The six feet between you suddenly seemed like miles. Rowan was stuck in a vacuum as your lips moved, relaying the final blow he may or may not recall later. He would always recall the pain that struck right into his soul, that brought him to his knees as he watched your hand close around the doorknob, heard it snick shut softly. You'd snuck into their lives, a soft and gentle calm, a summer wave, and left as a hurricane, destruction and chaos in your path.

Aelin found him, still on his knees, gaze fixed on the gods-damned door handle.

He was aware of her kneeling before him, of her taking his cheeks in her hands.

“What happened my love?” The words were a distant whisper.

Aelin's forehead pressed against his, turquoise and gold eyes digging into his own with a startling intensity. “What happened?” She repeated, more forcefully this time, fingertips digging into his cheeks, the soft hint of heat bringing him back to the present.

“She left,” he all but whispered, words leaving with the last of the air from his lungs as he crumpled. His fist hit the carpet. “She fucking left.”

“Who?” Aelin asked. He didn't answer. She knew.

He watched, eyes glazed, as she whirled towards the door, eyes on the doorknob. It had been polished just this morning, but now bore a smudge from clammy fingers wrapped around it, a slight streak where your fingers had slipped. In his delusion, Rowan thought you'd faltered, that there was a chance to fix this. He clung to the sign, burying it deep inside of him.

#this idea is so interesting #can't wait to see them come together #poły!rowaelin #rowaelin x reader #rowaelin x y/n #rowan whitethorn x reader #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d7

130 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞

Read On AO3 here.

For @polysjmweek Day 7: Why Choose?

Summary: Peace came to Prythian not as triumph, but as an exhausted sigh—long, aching, and cautious. The land, weary from centuries of bloodshed, bore its scars openly. And in the hush of aftermath, something unexpected stirred. Not hope—not yet. But quiet. And in that quiet, the High Lords gathered. At first, it was necessity: treaties, borders, rebuilding. They met in marble halls and broken keeps, voices tight, tempers tighter. They returned unchanged. But time softened them. Meetings became frequent. Helion suggested rotating courts, and something shifted. In Summer, Tarquin served chilled wine with citrus and salt. Rhysand teased him about presentation; Helion made an indecent joke about the decanter’s curve. Even Kallias—ever-stoic—laughed. Thesan offered scholarly musings on wine diplomacy. Lucien snorted. Tamlin muttered that at least no one had flipped a table. Beron sneered from the edge—but stayed. What began as duty became something stranger. Glances lingered. Arguments turned to flirtation. Nights ended with too many bodies and not enough excuses. A bond forged not in war, but in rebuilding. In want.

Why choose, when peace had already made the impossible real?

#politics peace and polycules #these are a few of our favorite things #beron x helion x rhysand x tamlin x kallias x thesan x tarquin #one big gay polycule #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d7 #poly!acotar #poly!high lords

34 notes · View notes

polysjmweek · 3 months ago

Text

Leap Of Faith

pairing: Quinlar x Reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none, reader just thinks the love is unrequited. miscommunication trope i suppose (more like lack thereof)

a/n: written for day 6 of @polysjmweek

Love was never easy.

Not for Bryce Quinlan, whose heart had been broken in the most violent, unforgiving ways. Not for Hunt Athalar, who had spent centuries chained, watching the people he cared for be taken from him again and again.

And not for you—not when you had fallen for two people who had suffered more than you could ever understand and find solace in each other but…not in you.

You had known Bryce before Danika had been taken from her. Before her world had shattered into pieces that no one—not even Hunt—had been able to completely put back together. You had met Hunt when he was still nothing more than the Shadow of Death, a slave to the Asteri, to Micah, to whatever master had the power to control him.

And somewhere in the years between all the loss and the war, somewhere in the quiet moments when they both let you in, you had fallen for them. Both of them. The problem was, they didn’t reciprocate it.

You almost let yourself hope sometimes, that maybe they did feel the same way. When Bryce would smirk at you when you grabbed her hand to cross the street or drag her onto the dance floor.

And when you occasionally crashed on the couch of their shared apartment, Hunt would brush his fingers over your skin in a way that lingered a little too long.

But beyond that, it was never anything more. Never acknowledged outright. To everyone else, it would just seem you were really close with them. Maybe another one of their strays they’d taken in under their wings like Ithan.

It was gut-wrenching. You felt like a lost puppy, following them around everywhere they went, desperate for affection. But you kept going, taking whatever scraps they’d give you. Convincing yourself it was fine. That you could be happy just being their friend. As long as they were still in your life, you would survive.

Eventually, things hit a wall. Hunt was the first to pull away. First, it was just avoiding eye contact when the three of you went out. Then he started leaving the room whenever you came over to their apartment.

You tried not to let it affect you. It was fine. He was a grown male and he didn’t owe you anything. But then Bryce started to pull away too. She invited you over less and less. And when you saw her out and about, she’d keep it brief, giving an excuse as to why she needed to hurry. Not to mention the fact your messages to them had been left on read for weeks now.

The last time you saw her was a week ago, and once you got home after her once again blowing you off, you cried in your bed for hours.

You couldn’t explain why it hurt so bad. How you had even gotten it in your mind that you could possibly have both of them. They were in a multiple-years-long committed relationship for Cthona’s sake. They didn’t need you. And who were you to try to squeeze your way in?

You had convinced yourself that maybe they entertained you for a while, wanted to see how far you would go. How desperate you were. They must have gotten bored or uncomfortable with it at some point. And when they realized you wouldn’t back off despite their obvious change, they had to take it a step further to really hammer the nail in the coffin.

You wished they would have just said something. Told you that they weren’t interested or needed some more space. Though, you suppose that’s asking for a lot from two people who had never been the best at communicating.

But then this afternoon you were on your bed in your apartment, stuffing your face with ice cream when you got a text from Bryce asking you to come over.

You had stared at your phone in disbelief. Then you scoffed and tossed it to the side. No. You weren’t falling for it again. And maybe they weren’t the people you thought they were if they got bored without you and decided to lure you back for more entertainment.

Then she sent you another text, saying it was urgent and that she needed to talk to you. You had groaned into your pillow and laid there for a while contemplating your decision. You decided that if they were just toying with you, then this would be your chance to end it.

So that’s where you were now, sitting on the couch in Bryce and Hunt’s apartment.

Hunt was leaning with his hip against the island counter, wings splayed behind him, and Bryce sat a few inches away from you on the couch.

Bryce released a deep breath, shared a look you couldn’t decipher with Hunt, and pivoted her body toward you. “We need to talk.”

“I gathered that,” you said, your tone sharp. You didn’t plan to sound so mean, but if you weren’t angry, you were hurt. And the last thing you wanted to do was let them see how much it broke your heart.

Bryce flinched at your tone, and it was then you noticed the emotions on her face. Fear. Sadness. Regret.

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” she said softly.

“I’ve been busy.”

Bryce sighed again and looked at Hunt.

He moved from the counter to come sit next to her, taking her hand in his. “We want to apologize.”

You tilted your head, eyes flicking over their tense posture. “For what?”

Bryce made eye contact with Hunt again and he gave her a subtle nod. “For pushing you away,” she said. “We just—we didn’t know what else to do and we freaked out.”

You scoffed. “What else to do? You tell me I’m too much or bothering you, you don’t just ignore me,” you snapped.

“Wait what?” Bryce asked.

“You shut me out,” you said flatly. “Both of you. If you wanted me to back off or give you guys space you should’ve just said something. Instead, you tossed me aside like trash. I thought I… meant something to you.”

“You do,” Bryce whispered. “You do. That’s the problem.”

You blinked. “What kind of messed-up logic is that?”

“We were scared,” Hunt said, voice rough with emotion. “Of how much you meant to us. Of what it would do to us if we let you in completely and then lost you.”

Bryce nodded. “After everything we’ve lost, the idea of loving someone else, really loving someone, it felt like opening a wound that might never heal.”

Your breath hitched. You hated how much that made sense. How it mirrored your own fears. But it didn’t excuse what they did.

“You could’ve told me that. Instead, you made me feel like I was nothing.”

Bryce’s voice cracked. “I know. And I hate that we did that to you. You deserve better.”

“We thought pushing you away would protect us,” Hunt said. “But all it did was hurt you. And now… we just want the chance to fix it. To show you how we really feel.”

Bryce scooted closer. “We love you. Both of us. I love you.”

“And I love you,” Hunt echoed.

Your lip trembled. You looked at the two of them, pain and hope bleeding into every inch of their faces. And despite the ache in your chest, your heart beat just a little faster.

Bryce’s hand reached for yours, not grabbing it yet but leaving her palm open for you to take. “Can we start over?” she asked. “Together?”

You exhaled shakily, your heart cracking open again, piece by piece. “Okay,” you whispered, slowly placing your hand on top of hers. “But you better mean it.”

“We do. With everything we are,” Hunt said.

And when they pulled you into their arms, you let them. Not because everything was fixed—but because they were finally brave enough to be honest with you. To let you in. And this time, you weren’t letting go.

#Ohh boy miscommunication - a relationships nemasis #hopefully they have the courage to figure it out #see what we did there (haha)#crescent city #poly!cc #crescent city x reader #crescent city fic #quinlar x reader #hunt athalar x reader #bryce quinlan x reader #poly!crescentcity #poly+sjmweek2025 #poly+sjmweek2025d6

49 notes · View notes