Welcome to Poly+ SJM week!
Running: 4/6-4/12
This event was created to celebrate consensual non-monogamy within the fandom and spread the love a little further both within and across ships. All characters, writing styles, and art forms are welcome! Canon, OC, and X-reader writers are all encouraged to join in on the fun!
Organized by @ACourtofLadyDeath
CNM is an umbrella term for relationships in which all partners give explicit consent to engage in romantic, intimate, and/or sexual relationships with multiple people. CNM can take multiple forms, including polyamory, open relationships, and swinging relationships. Here at Poly+ week we encourage you to explore not just the sexual aspects of CNM, but the emotional as well. This event was designed to bring together writers from multiple ships and writing forms (X-reader, OC characters, and canon).
Use these links to learn about the top 5 CNM misconceptions, and why they're not true: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5. Curious what the different types of CNM are? You can read about them here!
Swinging, Polyamory, Open Relationships, Monogamish
Rules
Poly+ SJM week supports all SJM characters and SJM ships. This blog is both character and ship neutral. Please leave all character and ship wars at the door.
All forms of content creation are supported by this blog! (art, fics, moodboards, playlists, incorrect quotes, headcanons, drabbles, theories, etc.)
There is no restriction on content. You’re welcome to post NSFW as long as it is tagged appropriately.
We do not tolerate hate. Please do not argue or spread negativity on other creators' content. This blog is here to support all creators and their content as we celebrate and spread awareness about consensual non monogamy (CNM). If you’re unsure what CNM is, please visit our post about the top 5 CNM misconceptions here with additional resources. Please feel free to block this blog if this type of content is not to your liking. The peace of mind of our creators is equally important as the peace of mind as those who see the content.
We will not reblog or interact with any AI creations.
Feel free to be free! Each prompt was specially designed to be incredibly broad on purpose. You’re welcome to interpret them in any way that you’d like! You do not need to stick with one character or group of characters throughout the week. If you’re looking for some ideas, we will post some guiding questions about the prompts as well as specific ships as we work toward the event week!
We will have a collection on AO3! If you already post on AO3, we love to hear it! If not, consider branching out to a new audience and joining us there as well! We would love to share your work with as many people as possible. 2024 - 2025 - 2026
Please use the tag poly+sjmweek2026 when posting. This will allow us to find your work so that it can be added to the daily and weekly collection.
Please feel free reach out to the blog with any questions you might have!
[ID: Text in the center says Polyam Shipping Day, 14th of every month, June 2026 - Hand Holding. Below Polyam Shipping, and to the left of Day, is a red infinity sign that finishes in a heart on top. Surrounding the text are rows of stylized hearts in the colors of both versions of the polyam pride flag (black, red, bright blue, light green, dark green, light blue, navy). /end ID]
June 14th 2026 is our 56th Polyam Shipping Day!
For this month, our optional prompt is 🤝Hand Holding 🧑🤝🧑
There are many reasons for hand holding, both romantic and platonic. It could be affectionate or supportive. A light tentative hold, a caressing touch, a grounding comfortable gesture or a tight grip of desperation or pain. A hold pulling someone up from certain death or away from other danger, or tugging towards something good, onwards to adventure! How do the characters feel about hand holding; do they assume a certain meaning that could lead to misunderstandings? Is it something negotiated or an important relationship signifier? If it's a first step on a date or with a crush, who initiates and how do they decide to take that risk? This is also perfect for the 'X has two hands' meme/trope.
As per usual, you’re welcome to create for any of our previous prompts as well!
–
We’ll be tracking #PolyamShippingDay, and keeping an eye out for any @polyamships mentions too. We will reblog any polyam-positive fanworks featuring polyamorous ships of any configuration/type from any fandom. All ratings are welcome but anything nsfw/triggery should be warned for and behind a read more, as should very long tumblr fic.
You can also submit works directly to the blog or send us asks to let us know to check your blog for a post. If you’re posting on AO3, our collection name is ‘PolyamShippingDay‘ and you can post to the collection here. Only fanworks submitted/@ us on tumblr or in the official AO3 collection, or fanworks posted to our Dreamwidth community, are guaranteed to be included in our roundup. Please also let us know what prompt you created for, if any - people are always welcome to create for past prompts instead.
We have a Discord - invite here - if you want a place to chat about your ships or what you’re creating for them. We also have a Bluesky account if you would like to post any works there (although we cannot guarantee they’ll be on the tumblr roundup, we’ll definitely share them on the Bluesky account.)
We look forward to seeing what people create for it. If you’re enthused about the day, we’d be especially appreciative of any reblogs to help spread the word about the event.
I love this event - and I’m wondering if you know of any other Poly events - either for other fandoms, or at large like kinktober and such?
Hello! Thank you so much for asking! These are a few that we know of:
@polyamships is a Tumblr that reblogs poly works and runs a few poly events! It is ship and fandom neutral.
@holly-poly is a fandom/ship inclusive Tumblr fanwork exchange that you can sign up for! If you've never participate in these types of exchanges before, you sign up for a fanwork you'd like to receive and are assigned a fanwork to create in exchange.
@fourormore is a Tumblr that runs events focusing on relationships between four or more people. They are currently working on a 2026 bingo board!
I hope this is what you were looking for! Thank you so much for the love you show this event and for engaging with CNM and poly works!
random but i love the colour scheme and banner/pfp colours of this page its so pretty!
Thank you so much! It's actually inspired by SJM's recurring motif of red/purple/blue (Danika's hair in CC, the bat boys siphons in ACOTAR, and the gems in ToG to name a few). I wanted to blend the colors together while keeping it cohesive with some neutral bases. I'm so glad someone appreciates it!
Pairing : Elain x Lucien x Azriel x Emerie (in that order lol)
@polysjmweek Day 7(late): Why Choose?
Summary: Title says it all. The story of how Elain and Lucien, then Azriel, then Emerie all fell in love together. 💕
Warnings: We hate Rhysand in this fic. But Feyre is no better.
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: I came up with this polycule like this: "Damn. Elain really does have a type. Scarred, sassy, emo-ish males. Wonder what this throuple would be like... Nah. Too much testosterone... OH. BUT WITH EMERIE?! Goddamnnnnn! Hawt. ❤️🔥" So here it is! One day late, after some mental breakdown, my dinosaur of a computer crash out (and mine. As it deleted over 500 words minimum.), and a migraine! Enjoy!
Also. Big thank you to @acourtofladydeath and @tadpolesonalgae for the help 🙏💕 love you x
Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears
Elain was a happy, newly made mate; and yet she wasn’t sure whether it was herself or Rhysand that was the most over the moon with her union to the Day Court’s heir.
Lucien was, too. In his own way, maybe. They both were, that much could not be denied. But when the mating frenzy died a few days later, their normal self and rationality slowly coming back, they both could tell something was missing from the equation.
Over the years, after Azriel and Lucien’s initial raw male instincts were tamed by Elain’s sharp tongue and soft eyes, the three of them had developed something precious. A friendship had bloomed within the walls of the moonstone palace, where the group held regular tea parties, sharing the warmest teas Elain and Lucien brought back from every corner of Prythian.
Azriel was a good listener. He was also someone both Elain and Lucien had grown comfortable enough around to lay their heads on his strong shoulders on hard days. Azriel had opened up, too, at some point. Mostly with Lucien. Azriel’s past and present was macabre at times, but not enough to push away Lucien, who had been through similar kinds of horrors before. They bonded over this, and Elain understood.
At first, when Elain announced her mating ceremony with Lucien, they didn’t think much of Azriel’s growing distance. Their interactions had been fewer, but with Rhysand fussing over the preparations, they did not really get the time to sit and think much of it.
Then came the mating frenzy, and the days following. Azriel’s absence became more and more obvious with every passing day. It drove Elain mad with worry. Azriel’s responses to her letters were shorter, the lies in every sentence heavy. She could see the worry Lucien tried to hide despite his frown as he read over his mate’s shoulder.
They both missed Azriel. They did. Lucien, after a lot of prying from Elain, had confessed. But maybe it’s how it was supposed to be. Maybe those peaceful nights laughing and drinking tea under the stars on one of the Moonstone Palace’ balconies, a soft breeze from the mountains caressing their faces, had always been ephemeral.
Elain knew this couldn’t be true. She knew Lucien would do most anything in his power to believe that lie if it meant avoiding his hopes being shattered if they were to open up about it, the two of them, with Azriel.
Fortunately, Elain knew the recipe for courage, and to someone’s heart.
So it’s around a table of promised brownies and cinnamon rolls that, finally, they talked.
After the initial shyness after being apart for so long was overcomed, they realised the feelings they had felt for each other before were still there. Only they were harder to avoid now, and when they finally dived into the subject— Elain taking the lead to allow both males to do the same, bribing them with their favorite pastries, especially made for the occasion—those feelings were named.
Love.
—
It took some time for Rhysand to get over it. Somehow, polyamory was acceptable if it concerned a High Lord of Day Court, but as soon as it started concerning his precious brother and already mated sister-in-law, that reality soon became unacceptable.
A betrayal. Trickery. Something that should not be.
The night they had decided to announce it, at a table surrounded with their friends, a tight knit circle they thought safe, Elain’s relationship with her sisters was irrevocably changed.
She had felt betrayed when Feyre had shook her head in disappointment, before dragging her enraged mate out of the room before he, Nesta, and Azriel could shred him to pieces until even High Fae near-immortality could be overcome.
Elain had been so devastated, her heart breaking into pieces despite Lucien’s arms wrapped so tightly around her body, almost bringing Elain onto his lap as he still sat on the chair beside hers.
She should leave. She should stand up and leave, but her legs were shaking so much doing so would be impossible.
Elain didn’t even register when the screaming had ceased. She didn’t hear how Cassian tried to calm her mate down as she kept cursing Rhysand even after his departure with Feyre. She also did not register Lucien sharply asking Azriel to snap out of it, for her own sake.
“I’m sorry,” Azriel kept saying, kneeled in front of Elain’s chair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think he would-”
“None of us did,” Lucien sighed and squeezed Azriel’s shoulder with his free hand, while the other kept tracing soothing patterns on Elain’s back. “It’s no one’s fault but theirs.”
Then, unconvinced, he added, “They’ll get over it.”
Elain shook her head, her voice small and watery as she spoke. “No,” her voice broke, “I don’t think they will.”
“Well then so be it,” Nesta spat, venom lacing her tone. “It’s not like we ever needed that viper anyway.”
“Nesta,” Cassian warned her.
“I think we’re going to go to bed now,” Elain interrupted before another fight could explode. “Good night.”
She felt herself sway a little as she stood from her chair, but Lucien held her together until Azriel shut hers and Lucien’s bedroom door at the River House behind them.
Then, she fell to her knees, Lucien sinking beside her, and Azriel hurrying to their side.
She cried a lot that night. It was as if her whole world had crumbled. She was angry, and confused as to why everything had gone the way it did tonight. She thought, naively perhaps, that Feyre, out of everyone, would have understood.
She had never felt so far away from her sister before. She felt like a burden. It felt as if Nesta and Feyre were now fighting, and it was all because of her.
She felt unsafe and unwelcome in this house now. A house that held so many memories, so much love, now felt heavy. Like the walls were about to swallow her whole.
“Let’s go,” Azriel announced, determined.
“Where?” Lucien hissed, his emotions high, his heart aching, in sync with his mate’s.
Azriel knew better than to take offense in his reactions in these kinds of moments. “I have a place. It’s safe. It’s… It’s home.”
Lucien held Elain’s gaze. His thumbs went up to her cheeks, not wiping the tears away, allowing her to flow freely. He stroked Elain’s face, a pained expression on his face as he searched hers for approval.
She nodded. “Okay.”
—
It took time to rebuild what had been broken with her sister. And even then, the edges around their relationship still felt sharp around the places it had been damaged. It was fixed, somehow, but it had still left scars that would probably follow them forever.
Rhysand remained cold, and distant. But he knew better than to express his discontent aloud now. He kept a professional distance with his emissary and spy master now.
It still hurt Azriel, you noticed. Although the male was too hurt and proud to ever admit as much.
Tonight, they were going out at Rita’s to celebrate Azriel’s birthday, as Cassian insisted.
“We never go out anymore, come on!” Cassian ha whined.
“I feel like you’re using my birthday as an excuse, now, Brother.”
Perhaps Cassian did. In fact, it was highly possible that Cassian did.
But as Azriel watched his lovers from afar, staying at their booth with the excuse that someone has to stay and watch the drinks, he couldn’t complain with his brother’s decision.
Lucien was sweaty. His chest, exposed underneath his unbuttoned white flannel shirt, glistening with sweat underneath the blue and magenta neon lights. His body was pressed against Elain’s, undulating with the music and spinning her around in an effortlessly sensual dance.
His eyes snapped to a figure approaching the two. Like a shadow, zig-zagging through the crowd, a female walked up to Elain and Lucien.
Emerie of Illyria.
She had left Nesta’s side, Azriel noticed. The latter was too busy shoving her tongue down her mate’s throat to notice her friend’s disappearance.
Gwyneth had stayed home, apologizing profusely to Azriel for not being able to make it for his birthday. Apparently, Nesta had told Elain who then told Azriel, the girl was having mysterious plans with a mysterious someone tonight. Nesta had told Elain her suspicions about her friend dating this male, Balthazar. Apparently, the two of them became close after he helped them out during the Blood Rite.
Telling one was like telling the three of them, honestly.
Azriel’s eyes returned to Elain and Lucien, his heart warming up and beating to a rhythm he recognized as he watched Emerie joining his sweethearts, joining the group in a dance as if she’d always been there.
—
The way Emerie walked up to her and Lucien, chin high, eyes burning with determination, was hypnotizing.
“Hi,” Emerie said, her body swaying with the music.
Elain froze, struck by the female’s beauty. From up close, she looked like a daydream.
Lucien smiled. Without missing a beat, he answered. “Hi.” He spun Elain around gently, gently pulling her out of her stupor.
Emerie was like gravity, pulling Elain into her orbit. She chuckled, her hands finding Elain’s hips, steadying her when she landed against her chest. “Wanna dance?”
Elain nodded. She wrapped her arms around Emerie’s neck, careful not to let her fingers brush against the Illyrian’s wings. She blushed when she spotted Lucien looking back at her, moving to the music behind Emerie’s back. He was smiling.
“Care if I join you?” Lucien asked, leaning forward to speak into Emerie’s ear, over the music pounding around them.
“‘Course not!” Emerie laughed, a real laugh, head thrown back.
Elain wanted to put her lips against her throat and suck the sound in.
Lucien gave Elain a pointed look, pretending to scratch the tip of his nose before moving to press himself against her back, swaying to the music with her and Emerie.
‘I can smell you,’ he seemed to say, the bond between them purring.
Elain shut him down before she could do something reckless, like climbing her mate like a tree, hopefully with the participation of two other Illyrian’s, in the middle of Rita’s dancefloor.
She would never hear the end of it from Rhysand.
After a few delightful moments of dancing, Elain started to feel thirsty. She also direly missed Azriel.
As if on cue, one of his shadow found her cheeks. She followed their movement, turning her head until she met Azriel’s gaze directly.
She bit her lips, her pupils going wide as she took in his posture.
Azriel still sat at their booth, his legs spread open, his elbows resting on the table, body inched forward. His eyes were fixed on them, rapt.
To everyone else, his lack of visible facial expression could be perceived as boredom. But to Elain, the glint in her lover’s eyes indicated that he was anything but uninterested.
‘Come here,’ the shadows whispered excitedly against her ear, playing with the pearl earrings she wore. ‘Come, come!’
“I think I’m gonna take a break!” Elain spoke over the music.
“Alright,” Emerie said, hiding her disappointment. “I guess I’ll go find where Nesta-”
“Come with us?” Elain cringed at how desperate her voice sounded.
Emerie didn’t seem to mind, “Sure!”
They made their way to the booth, where Azriel was waiting for them. Lucien had his arm wrapped around Elain’s hips, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before sitting down onto the booth and pulling Elain with him. Emerie joined them, needing to press herself against Elain’s side so everyone could fit on the bench.
Two winged Illyrian took a lot of space, but Elain and Lucien were far from complaining, happily sandwiched between two hot bodies.
Very, very hot bodies.
“Had fun?” Azriel asked, handing Elain and Lucien’s respective drinks.
“Mhhh,” Lucien purred, brushing his lips against the stubbles on Azriel’s jaw, before nipping it with his teeth. “A lot, yes.”
And then, inevitably, they started kissing. Elain rolled her eyes, lovingly, before turning her attention to Emerie sitting beside her. She didn’t seem surprised, or disgusted.
“They do that a lot,” Elain said, the urge to justify her lovers being publicly in love instinctive.
“As they should,” Emerie smiled, looking at them with curiosity, judgement-free. “They’re in love.”
“They are,” Elain smiled shyly, turning her attention back to her lovers. “I am, too,” she confessed.
Emerie was easy to be around with. And honest, too. She laughed at Lucien’s corny humor, and remembered to include Azriel in the conversation, in a way he felt comfortable to. She was pretty. Or lovely as a sunset, as Lucien had whispered in Azriel's ear, making the male blush madly before nodding in agreement.
She fit into their group easily, asking questions about their relationship, interest clear on her face, and free of that judgmental look people usually reserved for them whenever they appeared publicly.
It felt natural for the three of them to welcome Emerie into their bed that night. Then, after a few meetings and mutual agreement, their hearts.
—
Elain was squirming on her chair, her apprehension weighing heavy on the room.
“Okay,” Nesta spoke up after an eternity of silence. She put her teacup down and leaned on her elbows. “What is going on?”
Elain felt Emerie's hand tightening on her thigh, over her skirts. She met her gaze and gulped.
‘You can do it,’ Emerie's soft, brown eyes said. ‘I'm right here.’
She took a shaky breath and turned toward her sister, her chin high with all the determination and courage she gathered from Emerie's presence.
“We… Well, me, Az, and Lucien are now—”
“You broke up?!” Nesta stood up, incredulous.
“What?” Elain stuttered. “N-No! That's not… would you please sit down?”, she pleaded.
Nesta sat back down.
“As I was saying,” Elain took a deep breath. “The three of us… We are now also dating,” she cringed at the word. They were in love. Dating sounded childish. An innocent, unimportant thing. Someday she'd find a word as beautiful as the thing they were. “Emerie.”
Nesta blinked once, twice. Her icy gray eyes met her friend's, the fire they held was soft, not menacing. Just curious, searching for something.
Then, she sighed. Rolling her eyes, her gaze fond.
“Must be a little sister thing, to be stealing my friends’ heart,” Nesta chuckled at that. “First Azriel, and now Emerie? Thank Gods Gwyneth is head over heels for Balthazar, or I'd be worried that you and your males were to steal her heart, too,” Nesta teased playfully.
Elain burst into tears. Uncontrollable, ugly sobs.
Nesta's eyes went wide. “Was that not the right thing to say, sister?” She asked, frozen in place as all she could do was watch her friend comforting her sister on the opposite side of the table.
Elain shook her head. “No,” she hiccuped. “They're h-happy tears.”
Nesta smiled, meeting Emerie's gaze one last time. She held it, then returned to her sister. She watched as Emerie's hands traveled over Elain's hair, her shoulders. Cupping her cheeks and murmuring comforting words to soothe her. Unafraid. Proud.
Nesta knew instantly that her sister was going to be between good hands with Emerie, too.
—
Lucien's charming smile fell the second he opened the front door to Azriel's—now theirs—cottage to see Elain's bloodshot eyes.
He immediately pulled her into a hug, his hand discreetly roaming over her body, looking for wounds, or anything. He met Emerie's eyes.
Emerie close the door behind them, and before she could answer Lucien's questioning look, Azriel spoke up.
“I'm going to murder—”
“Woah, hey,” Emerie stopped him, tapping his nose gently with her finger. “No need for murder, my love,” she chuckled. “They're happy tears.”
“So everything went well?” Lucien asked.
“Yes,” Elain smiled up at him, then at Azriel. “Everything went well. It's going to be okay.”
And it would. Because they would make their own happiness, day by day. Together.
ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld
You start to finally warm up with the help of your friends ;)
warnings: suggestive, touching, illusions to sex
note: Another poly+ week comes to an end which means I can binge read everything! I hope you all enjoyed these fics and another huge thanks to @acourtofladydeath for organizing this fic week.
“Below the castle are natural baths, almost like a hot spring! You should go down to warm up,” Viviane suggested to you after dinner. Deciding to stop being miserable you take Vivian’s suggestion once everyone else has retired for the evening.
Throwing on a fluffy robe, slippers and grabbing the thickest towel you can find, you head down to the baths. What you don’t notice are the shadows trailing at your heels.
As you descend the stairs you feel the air change. The humidity gets thicker and the temperature rises a few degrees with every step. You let out a content sigh, the chill finally starting to leave your bones as the pleasant heat kisses your skin.
The wide cavernous room takes your breath away. The room is all smooth gray stone, a domed ceiling with lights reflecting off of what look like icicles hanging. Steam rises from 6 different in-ground pools around the room. You gravitate towards the one with a good amount of steam rising from the surface of the water. Just to make sure you were right about the temperature you kick off your slippers to dip your toes in.
Your head falls back and you let out a sigh, feeling the warmth course through you. You quickly shed your bathrobe and nightgown to fully submerge yourself in the bath. The warm–borderline scalding actually–water laps at your shoulders. Sitting on the little built in stone bench you rest your head back against the edge of the bath.
You stay like that for a long time, reveling in the fact that the water isn’t losing warmth and you can stay down here as long as you like.
Mere moments later you feel something skitter across the back of your neck,making you jump. You sit up, whipping your head around to see what could have possibly touched you. A wisp of darkness shyly inches away from the edge of the bath, almost hanging its head in shame for scaring you. “Come here,” you say gently, holding out your palm for Azriel’s little shadow. It wiggles a little before flying at your hand, slowly swirling in your open palm. “What are you doing so far from Az?”
“It’s not,” a familiar voice says, followed by the sight of two tall Illyrians smiling down at you, towels hanging low on their hips. The shadow comes to a halt as your jaw drops slightly at the glorious sight before you. Your cheeks are turning redder by the second and not from the temperature of the water.
Azriel gives his shadow something of a disapproving look and it rushes back to rest at his shoulders with the others. Cassian moves from Az’s side to test the water himself, letting out a pleasant hum. “Mind if we join you, love?” Cass asks with a wicked smirk. You feel your brain stop functioning for a long moment at the question. No way this is happening. You definitely went back to bed after dinner and are now having an insane dream due to the chill from earlier.
You realize you’re staring strangely at your best friends (who you wish were more than just friends) and force yourself to nod yes. As the pair drop their towels with yours you avert your gaze. They slip into the bath on either side of you. Cassian spread his wings a little to stretch the joints and let them rest in the hot water.
You stare at them as they relax, wishing they were able to be this at peace all the time. You wish you could be with them all the time.
Azriel’s hazel eyes meet yours. You get a little ashamed, being caught staring at his beautifully muscled and tattooed chest. He gives you a small smile and you quickly look down at the ripples in the water.
“Hey,” Az whispers, inching closer to you. So close that your bare thighs now touch. You can’t look him in the eye like this. Or Cassian, who seems to just be enjoying himself, floating with his chest up and wings spread enough not to touch anything.
You fold your arms against your chest, bringing your hands just another surface to pick at your nails to distract from Azriel’s proximity. He gently hooks a scarred finger under your chin letting his thumb rest just below your lip. “You don’t need to be shy with us, love.” Azriel gives you one of those soft rare smiles that makes your stomach do flips. “I-I’m not it’s just, I just-” you stutter out, not totally sure where you were going with your sentence. “We’ve just never been this close is all.” You murmur.
“No, but Cass and I have wanted to be, with you that is.” Az slightly trips over his words. You feel yourself calm down a little at his nerves shining through.
Cassian settles himself behind you, pressing his chest to your back, snaking his arms around your waist to keep you close to him. You lean into his touch like you’ve wanted to all day. Finally warm and relaxed in his strong arms. “Is this ok?” You ask, your hands moving to hold Cassian’s forearms. “More than you know baby,” Cass says with a smirk, lightly biting at your earlobe then pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “You’re ours baby, don’t even try to deny it.”
“And we’re yours,” Azriel adds, his face so close to yours your lips are almost touching. Your stomach drops like one of them just dropped you out of the sky and the other caught you too close to the ground.
Taking the plunge you lean forward pressing your lips against Azriel’s. He kisses you back, sending chills through your body. Azriel cups your jaw keeping you close to him, deepening the kiss. You moan against his lips and grab at his hips.
Cassian runs his calloused hands down your sides to rest on your thighs squeezing them. You melt into him even more. Cassian pulls you onto his laps grinding his hardened length against your ass sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Breaking away from Azriel you turn to connect your lips with Cassian’s. He devours you like a man starved, forcing your lips to part for his tongue.
You break away for air, your breathing turns heavy as you collect yourself and process the hands still roaming your body. “Are you warmed up yet?” Cassian says with a deep laugh. Looking between them you return their wicked smirks. “I think I’m still a little chilly. Anyway you two can fix that?” Cassian and Azriel snap their heads up to look at each other. That long lived, silent bond between them letting them communicate. Cassian climbs out of the bath with you in his arms as Azriel grabs your towels to wrap you up for the speedy walk back to their room.
Vassa and Jurian take their Vanserra for a walk. Lucien worries about the wrong brother. And Boudica makes an appearance because @talibunny30 is too generous and lets me play with her dolls!
Chapters: 3/3
Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Jurian/Vassa (A Court of Thorns and Roses)
Characters: Jurian (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Vassa (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Vanserra Brothers (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Original Male Character, Tyson Vanserra, Lucien Vanserra, Boudica
When Eris stages a coup at a treaty negotiation and takes hostages, Jurian and Vassa don't know what to expect as the only humans in the group. It certainly isn't Tyson Vanserra. Beron's sixth son is the hulking enforcer, and the strong, silent type. But with Beron gone, Tyson finds himself opening up to a world of possibilities.
This time I forgot to tag @polysjmweek
Someday I will remember all the parts of a tumblr post.
Summary: If Rhys is going to determine why Eris hasn’t gotten you pregnant yet, he insists on reviewing the technique. In person.
CW: explicit smut, DIRTY TALK, heavy breeding kink, oral (bj), p in v, voyeurism, praise, you get spitroasted by a high lord and an heir, creampie, banter, you like being called a slut, inappropriate use of magic (fire, daemati, bargains), trying for an heir but make it a group project, this meeting could not have been an email, eris and rhys think dirty talk is a competitive sport, spoiler alert: you’re the ball
“Are you ready for my spark to catch inside of you?” Eris’s hot thickness drags against your walls in a mind-numbing rhythm. Your toes curl in response to his words.
The air shifts. A dark presence appears.
“I heard you’ve had a little trouble breeding. I’ve cleared my calendar. I’m here to help.” Rhysand leans against a chaise, eyes on where you and Eris are joined.
Your chest flushes hot. This is the first time Rhysand has seen you nude. And you're split open on your mate.
Eris's hips don't miss a beat. “You’re early.”
“Couldn’t wait to see my magnificent mate? Or was it my cock that tempted you?” He tosses his hair over his shoulder. “I hope you haven’t been neglecting male lovers now that you’ve found your mate. Might make you overly eager.”
Rhys slips a few fingers into his pocket. “On the contrary, my mate quite enjoys sharing males. I’m here because you two asked me to help. Do I need to remind you why I’m your best hope at proper breeding?”
His words, “sharing males,” repeat over and over in your mind as you look between Eris and Rhys, clit throbbing.
Eris adjusts his grip on your thighs, the smooth metal of his rings digging into your skin. “No. But there’s nothing in this realm that would keep you from a chance to brag.”
Rhysand stalks closer with each phrase. “I’m the only High Lord to whom you’re not related who’s fathered an heir. My daemati gifts make me uniquely able to diagnose any issues by using your exact memories.” His violet gaze pins you. “And I’m excellent at making both males and females cum.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, the soft motion at odds with the danger in his tone.
Eris pumps into you faster. “We don’t need any help with that last bit.” Eris’s eyes cut to yours. “Do we?”
A mischievous smile curves your lips. “Definitely not.”
“Let’s see about that.” Rhys sandwiches your hand between his. “Show me what I have to work with, darling. Let’s see how much of a slut you are for Eris.”
Eris’s smirk could cut glass.
You feel him hovering at the edge of your mind. It’s not unpleasant. It makes you feel deliciously exposed, like someone’s about to see your hidden stash of smut. The thought of him experiencing the many ways Eris has fucked you through your perspective makes your veins spark with need.
You close your eyes. “Do it,” you say. “Please.”
Rhys’s power slips into your mind like melting butter into warm toast. He gasps softly as he latches onto the first naughty memory. “Mmmm. Here we go. Let’s revisit all the loads he’s given you. I need to see them all.”
Eris chuckles. “How long do you have?”
His thrusts slow to an agonizing crawl. The pace he uses when he wants to take his time, keeping you suspended in bliss until your body forgets what it feels like to not be stretched open on his cock. Cauldron help you.
Scenes of sex with Eris float through your mind’s eye, one after the other. An urgent quickie on his desk, still-wet ink stamped on your ass. Riding him slow in his favorite velvet armchair by the fireplace. Back pressed against firm bark in the Autumn Forest, held upright with ropes of fire.
Breaths come heavier as the past slips by faster and faster. Eris’s measured thrusts and Rhysand’s manhandling of your raciest memories blur everything into pleasure and desire.
Your eyelids flutter open, instantly noticing the hand Rhys is holding is mere inches away from his sizeable bulge. You want it.
You’re sucked back under when a hungry sound crawls up Rhysand’s throat. Your cheeks burn as hot as Eris’s fire when you realize he’s rifling through every moment you were wet and wanting. It spurs you higher, calves contracting when your mate’s aroused satisfaction snakes down your bond.
The scent of Rhysand’s arousal fills your nose, thick and heady. “Well. There’s no question about how much she loves your cock. And you certainly fuck her often enough.”
Your pussy clenches involuntarily. Eris groans in response.
“But I do see some opportunities for improvement.” Rhys blinks twice, coming back to the present moment. He leaves a tendril of his power plugged into your mind.
His grip on your hand softens.
Somewhere far away, you’re happy Rhys has found what he needs. But right now, he’s what you need.
You grab the hard length of him through his pants, mouth already salivating.
His answering laugh is dangerous. “I’m here to make you two cum. Not the other way around.”
“Want to make me cum?” you ask. “Let me have you.”
Eris presses his warm palm to your lower stomach. “Can you help and fuck at the same time?” His voice drops an octave. “My mate is hungry.”
Rhys’s fingers play with the leather of his belt. “I’m more than happy to play along. The lady gets what the lady wants. And right now—” his head tilts, then his eyes darken, “—she wants me to feed her.”
He read your mind.
Literally.
You lick your lips—slowly.
His buckle clinks as he shoves his pants down, thick shaft springing free. He grabs it and holds it above your face. “Is this what you want, darling?” He thumps it against your cheeks a few times.
Eris’s irises glow amber. “You look like a High Lady already. Getting two powerful males to worship you at your request.”
You roll your tongue seductively along your lower lip. You want Rhys inside you now.
“I’d ask if you’re always this eager. But you’ve already exposed all your dirty little secrets.” Rhys groans as he slides the head past your lips, halting once he’s filled your mouth.
Eris thrusts into you a little faster, voice purring, “Yes, she’s a very good slut.” His nostrils flare. “And today the scent of her sweet cunt is even more intoxicating than usual. She’s ripe for breeding.”
Your hands fist in the sheets. You silently beg Rhys to move already.
A dark chuckle from Rhysand. “You forget I can hear you, darling. She really is a good girl… begging so prettily for me to fuck her mouth.”
“My mate is an excellent beggar. She’s had plenty of practice. Even her body begs.” Eris rolls a nipple between his warm fingers. “Look at the way she pushes her chest towards us, asking for more. See how she coats me so liberally with her nectar. Witness how nicely she begs to be bred.”
Your mind says what your mouth cannot. Yes! Breed me. Pleeease.
Rhysand squeezes your other nipple. “Do you feel how hard you’ve made me? Watching Eris fuck you makes my dick swell.”
It weighs heavy on your tongue.
“Feeling Eris stretch you open on his cock over and over made mine throb for you.”
He’s all you can taste.
“And feeling how you burn to be filled again and again made my cock ache to stuff your holes.”
He finally starts pumping. Slowly. Like he’s savoring every millimeter of friction.
The flames in the fireplace crackle louder. Eris must be enjoying this as much as you are.
Rhys grunts. “Why have you never mentioned how delicious her warm mouth feels?”
Eris’s wicked fingers wander down your body, petting and stroking. “Why would you assume she’s anything less than perfection?”
Their praise makes you squirm, but there’s nowhere for you to go. You’re pinned between the two males.
You swirl your tongue and hollow your cheeks to show Rhys just how good you can make him feel.
He growls and grips both sides of your face. “That’s it. Suck Daddy’s cock so I can make your mate a daddy too.”
Eris’s fingers still for one moment. “I won’t be calling you that.”
The High Lord of the Night Court’s power hums through the room. His voice is cool and treacherous. “Only one of us is a father, Eris. You want to be one, too? You’ll call me whatever I tell you to.”
Eris uses his courtier tone. “Are those your new terms?”
“Absolutely.”
Two moments of total silence.
“I’ll call you that when I see proof of your usefulness,” Eris counters.
“Deal.”
Magic hums between them, buzzing through your body on both ends, meeting in the middle. It heightens the pleasure.
Rhys chuckles darkly. “I would ask if you liked me being in your mind and mouth at once, but you can’t talk, and your thoughts have already told on you.”
Every embarrassment just fuels the flames that sizzle your blood.
Eris circles your clit. You melt further into the mattress from the perfect pressure. “How does it feel to be all stuffed full?”
Your pussy, your mouth, your clit—it’s all too much and exactly enough, but still you want more.
Rhysand palms your breasts. “Such a good girl. Look how well she sucks us both in at once.”
Their dirty mouths are going to end you right here in this bed. The floor is going to swallow you whole. Or your body is going to float into the sky. Maybe both.
Eris fucks up into you faster, pushing his arousal down the bond. “You’re perfect. Our perfect slut.”
Your pussy throbs around him, each pulse drumming deeper.
The daemati’s voice is in your ears and your mind. “Do I taste as good as your pretty mate?”
You moan around him, losing yourself to the pleasure in every crevice of your mind and body.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eris lean into Rhy’s space, faces so close their noses nearly touch. “She’s magically wired to favor me, but don’t worry, I bet you’re a close second.”
Your thighs tremble.
Rhys doesn’t retreat an inch. His tone? Mocking. “Aww. Is your mate the only one who likes your flavor?”
Eris's mouth curves. “Spare me the restraint. You're here to assess me, aren't you?”
Wait. They aren't actually going to...
Their mouths meet above you, urgent and shameless. Their lips dance as well as their words do. They take turns tongue-fucking the other with the same rhythms they’re using on you.
The fire roars louder, logs crackling.
Your pussy melts. Wetness gushes where you and Eris converge.
Rhysand pulls back with a knowing chuckle. “Did you enjoy that, darling? Can you feel it through the bond, Eris? How close she is to cumming?”
Rhys’s lazy rhythm steadies you.
Eris’s urgent pace winds you tighter.
Every muscle in your body clenches.
Eris heats his swirling finger a few degrees. “Is the sum total of your help thrusting yourself down our throats?”
Rhys barks a laugh. “Hardly. I need to make sure you don’t hold yourself back.”
“Does it look like I’m holding back? I’m about to make her cum all over my cock.” He drives in harder to make his point.
Your insides coil, primed to snap.
Rhysand’s voice is pure, chilled night. “Prove it. Cum with her.”
A dare.
Please. Please. Please.
“I could if I wanted to.” A few heavy breaths. “But I always attend to her pleasure first. Several times.”
Rhys’s thumb circles your cheek. “Trust me, we’ll take good care of her. But breeding takes many loads. Are you up for it, Eris?”
Your muscles lock.
Eris’s grip on your thigh tightens. He pounds himself into you. His cock heats your pussy from the inside.
Oh fuck.
Your eyes roll back. He’s about to fill you up.
“Prepare to carry my flame,” Eris says, voice straining at its leash.
Your hips rise on their own.
“Breed her full, Eris.”
Every nerve explodes.
Fireworks.
Made of flame and pleasure.
Your mate’s groan rings in your ears.
Eris’s hot cum hits your deepest point.
Your insides milk his cock.
Are you floating above your body?
Your cunt sucks Eris’s seed further into your depths.
Only heavy breathing breaks the silence.
Rhysand pulls out of your mouth.
You suck down more air.
He strokes your jaw. “You did so well.”
Eris’s eyes, smoky and half-lidded, find yours. “My perfect girl.”
The moment stretches. Ten breaths of contented stillness.
Rhys clears his throat. “Good work, fire prince. Now push it deep and seal it inside her with your magic.”
A tiny ember reignites in your core.
“Already on it.” Eris pulls himself out of you. Then something warm and smooth slides deep, plugging you and keeping your mate’s wet seed nestled against your walls.
The mattress dips beside you. He scoops you into his chest, kissing your forehead. “Thanks for all your help, Rhysand. I was hoping it would be more enlightening.”
Is Rhysand really going to leave so soon?
A voice slinks into your mind. “Let’s rile him up, shall we?”
Rhys’s chuckle promises danger. “Do you think we’re here just to give her one load? We’re here to breed her full. If you don’t pump another one into her, I will.”
Eris’s head snaps to the High Lord of the Night Court. Fangs glinting.
Rhys’s voice is black silk. “My cock is ready. My balls are loaded. My seed is strong.”
Eris snarls.
Rhysand strokes his slick cock, precum already blooming. “Your choice, Eris. Do you want to raise a Night heir or an Autumn one?”
Possible Part 2: Rhys hasn’t yet demonstrated why he was called in to consult. He intends to prove his value with a hands-on lesson in technique. Eris may find the instruction… unexpectedly interactive.
a/n: firmly in my ‘hating everything I’ve ever written’ era
For @polysjmweek week! I can’t believe I actually managed to get this finished it has been plaguing me for months!!
warnings: a man (no!!!), oral, use of a strap, f/f/f threesome, facesitting, not proofread (yet)
word count: 5,323
~~~~
It’s not sensible to be out on your own after dark, but the light slithers away so swiftly in winter there’s hardly enough time to blink before the sky is pitch blue and faelights are stringing between shopfronts.
Wind nips at the tip of your nose, and you huddle deeper into the parrot-red fur coat you’d nicked from Mor’s winter wardrobe before heading out to market. Dark purple feathers form a thick ruffle around the sleeves and hem, heavy golden buttons the size of your eyes toggling up the seam of the torso, inset with miniature mosaic tiles of polished turquoise and amethyst. You’d stolen one of Nesta’s long skirts to pair with it—dark velvet, in aubergine. The purple shimmers when you walk, swaying loose around your ankles.
Large paper lanterns have been strung high above the market square, casting a warm tangerine glow over the stalls. A bonfire roars in the centre, sending up crackling sparks of embers whenever a log pops.
Pink shimmering nails card through the jingling bangles displayed before you—almost all golden, a few shot through with turquoise, others with lapis, some with aquamarine…such beautiful, rich colour combinations. A pout tugs at your glossy mouth, wrists already bitten-into and raw from the weight of the bags. If it’s not ropes, it’s those pesky paper handles rubbing away at your delicate skin. Maybe you can sweet-talk Mor into wrapping you up with silk ribbon, when the time comes…
A large, male hand lands in the crook of your elbow, and you gasp in surprise, pivoting atop the cobbles—footwork taught by Nesta a few years back. Before you is a male of average height, bringing you to eye-level in heels. His hair is black, the same shade as the kohl artfully smudged around his dark eyes. A double set of silver piercings bite his lower lip—snake bites, fashioned into tiny serpent’s teeth. His mouth twitches to one side, before managing a lopsided smile.
“Hey,” the guy says. His throat rolls, and he releases your forearm, raising his palm to scratch across his nape, sliding beneath his silky black locks. “I saw you checking out the stall. Was wondering if I could buy you something.” The male shifts uneasily on his feet, arms twitching like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Eventually he settles for sketchily sliding them into his pockets.
A frown ticks between your brows as you glance over him, your head cocking to one side. “No thanks. I’m good,” you answer with a smile, gesturing to the bags hanging heavy from your wrists, jingling as you do.
The guy huffs a laugh, but it’s too short-lived. He sounds like he’s out of breath. “You sure? I didn’t think a girl like you would turn down an opportunity for free jewellery,” the male sneers—though maybe it’s an attempt at a smile. A poor joke, ringing with nerves.
‘Girl’ when you’re clearly grown.
You blink bemusedly, absentmindedly checking out the pink shimmer on your splayed fingers—how pretty they look with the silver rings adorning each digit. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve got my own source. Cute offer, though. Really.” Returning to your browsing, you expect the guy to depart. “What? You got a boyfriend already?” He asks, shouldering his way between you and the stall so he can lean his weight against the table. He seems a little dense, to not be taking the hint.
“It’s not that,” you reply, sidestepping to examine the jewellery further along—racks of earrings. Your eyes sparkle as a pair grabs your attention: golden hooks to pierce the lobes, each weighed with an opal the size of a small robin’s egg. These would look perfect with that creamy silk gown you’ve hidden away in your closet, stored for a special occasion.
“Then what?” The guy argues, jutting his face forward demandingly. “Daddy paying?” He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest and crossing his legs at the ankles. Maybe he’s trying to look appealing, but he’s not quite confident enough to pull off the pose.
You’ve half a mind to inform him it’s your own money you’re spending, but any grace you’d been born with has since been tossed out the window. “Mommy, actually,” you lie, moving further down the table, drawn to a glittering bowl of silver rings.
“Your perfume smells nice,” he tries, edging closer. He clears his throat and looks away, as if it pains him to freely offer a compliment. You glance at him in puzzlement. “Thank you? I think?”
“Vanilla, right?” The guy asks. There’s a stoic expression on his face, but a hot blush across his cheeks. Why does he sound like he’s trying to pick a fight with you over your fragrance? He’s wearing your patience thinner than that silky set of black underthings Nesta gifted you for solstice last year.
“Hey, I don’t know what your game is, but I’m taken,” you tell him, experimentally slipping a ring onto your fourth finger. It’s silver, with a glittering moonstone at its centre, two snake’s heads coiling around and away from its circumference. Gods, this would look so pretty on one of Nesta’s fingers. She has the perfect hands for these sorts of designs: long, finely-boned digits that are lengthy but narrow enough to carry stretching, curling designs. Mor suits gold better—gold embedded with big, chunky gemstones that twinkle in the lowlight when she beckons you to crawl closer.
“Calm down, I was just asking about your damn perfume. My girlfriend wears a similar one,” the guy huffs, still present at your side. “It doesn’t even smell that good either. I was just saying that to be nice.”
He’s either unfortunately obtuse, or maliciously ignorant. You’re willing to bet it’s the latter.
“You know it’s fucking rude to ignore people. I’m fucking talking to you, bitch.”
“Will you shut up,” you snap, finally turning to face him. “I’m busy. Fuck off.”
“Now she talks,” he sneers, relaxing back onto the tabletop, arms folding defensively. “So? Is it vanilla?”
This motherfucker…
“Vanilla is one of the top notes,” comes a smooth, honed voice from your back. Finely-boned fingers find home around your waist, drawing you in close to a lithe female body. “Along with bergamot and allspice. Jealousy, that was imported from the continent. I’m afraid it’s now unavailable,” Nesta informs, her silver-mercury eyes grazing over your features as she studies you. “It’s also not yours to wear. I thought I told you to keep those greedy fingers of yours out of my vanity.”
You bat your lashes innocently, peering up at her, feigning obliviousness. At ease in her company.
“And who’re you?” The guy asks, again jerking his chin demandingly, though his eyes are already sizing up the new female before him. They’re practically glued to her breasts.
You want to dress her in your coat, to conceal her from his oily attention.
Nesta doesn’t so much as glance his direction, though there’s no doubt the Oristian is aware of his movements. Surveilling his every breath, just in case he does something stupid. Her brows furrow, elegantly narrow lips tugging down at their edges as those fingers of hers clasp in the velvet of your skirt, lifting it to examine the sheen beneath the light. Swiping her thumb across the familiar texture. A breeze teases around your ankles, curving up your bare calves and playing beneath the fabric. Mercury glitters as she raises her eyes to your own, pinning you in place. “This, is mine.” A flush heats your cheeks.
“Sorry?” You try, a hint of a smile guiltily curling your lips.
Nesta lifts a brow, unimpressed. ‘We’ll work on that later,’ the expression reads.
“Are you deaf? I’m talking to you,” the guy persists, reaching forward to grab Nesta by her arm as he’d done with you.
Silver flame simmers in her eyes as her head whips round, death barely held by its collar…bubbling hot enough at her surface the tension might fray…the threat might slip its leash. The male’s hand recoils, hastily backing up a step and knocking into the stall, sending that beautiful rack of earrings clattering across its surface. The whites of his eyes are showing as he glances to the eruption of noise, wiping his palms down on his trouser legs before clenching them into fists.
A snarl curls the male’s upper lip, jabbing a finger in Nesta’s direction. “You should leave. Me and her were having a conversation before you showed up and interrupted. Probably jealous your friend was getting all the attention.”
Nesta’s eyes glitter with amusement, though he doesn’t know her well enough to recognise that glint, mistaking it for open malice as his skin pales. Her fingers squeeze around your waist, other hand now coming to pause on your shoulder. “She told you she’s taken, didn’t she?” Nesta asks, far too controlled to be anything but threatening.
“So? You gonna step in on behalf of her boyfriend?”
Snowstorms thunder in her eyes. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Warmth oozes throughout your chest. Thick, and honey sweet.
The male splutters, eyes darting between the two of you, only now noting the proprietary touch curving around your hip and shoulder. Then a smirk curls his mouth, previously-pointed finger now opening up into an offering palm. “I could give both of you a ride. Never know what you’re missing ‘til you try.”
Mother, save us.
Chills skitter down your spine, hairs on your forearms prickling as the temperature takes a sharp plummet. Breath clouding before you, lanterns rocking in the wind, bonfire popping and crackling as it ignites.
“And who-” a cold sweat beads on the male’s brow, the familiar female voice low and cutting- “are you?”
She appears from the low-circling mist like an alabaster serpent, eyes near black in the dim cover of night, revealed as the male spins around on pure survival instinct. She approaches, and were it not for the echoing click of heels you’d be sure she was floating. Gliding down between the stalls, the ghostly mist clinging to her robes.
The male splutters—stammers. Fingers digging into his palms, trembling at his sides. You almost feel bad for him as he falters a step. Then another. Then turns on his heel entirely and breaks into a sprint in the opposite direction.
That’s certainly one way to deal with pests.
Nesta’s hand shifts to your hip, lightly prodding the ticklish dip of your waist. “That skirt is coming off the second we’re home. You know better than to take without asking,” she murmurs under her breath as Mor sweeps forward. The darkness that had been hanging in the air clears, temperature regulating once more.
A smile softens her lips, skin flushed warm beneath the nip of cold as her eyes flicker between the two of you. “Are the two of you alright?”
“Mildly bothered. Nothing more.”
“All good. Just frustrated,” you answer. “I suppose it’s getting late anyway. The stall owners will be clearing up soon.” You wish you could have explored more, but the market will be up for a few more days.
“You can visit tomorrow,” Nesta says, again offering a ticklish squeeze to your waist. “In your own clothes.”
Mor squints her eyes. “Is that coat one of mine?”
You purse your lips, unable to hide the smile tugging at them as you blink up at her.
Amber eyes glitter, wicked and mischievous, then Mor slips her arm round your waist, crossing over Nesta’s as you turn home for the night.
~~~~
Nesta’s fingers are ice cold as they slip beneath your chemise, dipping beneath the waistband of the skirt you’d borrowed, stroking the sensitive skin, back and forth, and she hugs your spine.
“Are you going to take it off on your own…?” She lowers her voice to a whisper, the kiss of her lips so tantalising against the shell of your ear. “Or do I have to do it for you?”
Heat sparks between your thighs, body coming alight beneath her touch as you arch against her. Tilting your head aside to encourage her exploration. “My hands are…busy…” you murmur, paper strings still biting into your arms and elbows beneath the weight of your purchases.
“Mm? That’s too bad.” She places a kiss just shy of your jaw. “I’m sure you would act much faster…I find my hands to be stiff from the cold.”
Sure enough, her icy fingers lift higher, stroking up your stomach with the very tips of her fingers, making idle circles of your belly button, tracing up and down the line of your abdomen, all the while kissing gently along the length of your throat. Rocking slightly from side to side, swaying as if dancing—as is in her nature.
“I’m-…sure I could find a place to set these for a moment,” you fumble, but make no effort to leave her embrace.
And how could you? She’s a honey trap.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she purrs, scratching the tips of her nails lazily across your stomach, sending shivers of pleasure outward like ripples.
“I’m not…I’m not going to run away…” you swear, hips shifting to press back against her own. Gasping as she licks a sensitive spot on your neck, sealing her lips around it. Kissing and sucking, nipping lightly at your skin.
“No, you’re not,” she agrees.
Holding tighter, Nesta slides her hand upwards, fingers coasting along the centre of your stomach, gliding up your sternum. Her hand presses flush between your breasts, pushing you back into her. Your hips circle, seeking friction as she teases your skin.
“Nesta? Are you in h-” Mor cuts herself off as she peers in from the hallway, spotting the two of you already coupled together. She raises her brows, but a smile is curving her mouth as she leans against the doorframe, knocking lightly on the wood.
Nesta shifts, gently angling herself so the two of you are in view. She holds you tighter, pressing close as she rests her cheek against your own.
“Mor…” you pout, wits returning now Nesta’s touching has halted.
“Mhmm?”
“Will you help me?” You ask, lightly squirming in Nesta’s hold. “She won’t let me go.”
“Is that right?” Mor laughs, running her eyes over the both of you. “Well I don’t believe she’d do so without cause…”
You blink. “You’re on her side?” You ask, growing flustered.
“You have been topping a lot recently,” she replies, glancing over her nails. “It’s been a while since Nesta and I have had a go at you together.”
An ache develops between your legs. Heat rising from your belly, spreading rapidly.
“Now,” Mor says, pushing off from the doorframe, “I think I’ll take those off your hands, hm?” She breezes across the floor, effortlessly lifting the bags from your arms, freeing them of the weight and setting each down beside your bed.
Nesta grazes her teeth along the length of your throat, sensitivity rippling across your skin in her wake. A sound slips from your lips: hungry, and in need of satisfaction.
“Let’s start by taking this off, hmm?” Mor murmurs, sliding her hands beneath the feathery hem of her warm coat, undressing your shoulders, leaving you in the chemise and skirt. Mor blinks, then takes a light inhale of your throat. She pulls back, noses touching. “And the perfume?” She asks, a glint in her amber eyes, fingers stroking the underside of your jaw to guide your gaze to hers as she lowers her voice. “You’re definitely in need of a topping.”
The ache deepens, and you try to press your thighs together, desperate to relieve the arousal.
Mor’s fingers move to the buttons of your blouse. “Will you count these for me?” She asks, sweetly.
“Count them?” You scoff. It comes out breathier than you’d intended, as Nesta’s hand slides southward again.
“Yes, count them,” Mor repeats, clasping the first button. “You’re looking so flustered, we should give you something to focus on.”
A faint laugh comes from Nesta, and you arch your back, hips pressing flush against her own. She presses a kiss to your jaw, tracing patterns across your stomach.
Mor unclasps the first button, her eyes flicking to yours expectantly. You flush.
“…One.”
Mor lifts a brow, and something close to a grin curves her lips. “Start from fourteen,” she instructs, pressing down on the fabric of your collar to spread the blouse apart. “I want you to count down instead.”
Heat liquefies in the pit of your belly. “That’s cruel, Mor.”
She tilts her had. “The object is to make you wait, is it not?”
“This could have gone much faster if you’d done it yourself,” Nesta murmurs against your ear.
“In fact you probably wouldn’t be in this situation at all if you’d just asked to borrow the clothes,” Mor follows on. “How does it feel? Knowing you could have avoided all this?”
Your brows furrow into a slight scowl. “Now you’re just being cruel.”
A laugh spills from Mor’s lips, delight sparking in her eyes. “I am. I’m sorry.” Her mouth settles over your own, and a hum works its way up your throat as warmth presses in on you from every side. Fingers continue their work on your blouse, another hand slipping deeper beneath the skirt, this time trailing the waistband of your underwear. You whine into Mor’s mouth.
“What number are we on?” Mor breathes, and you fumble. You try to glance down but she supports your jaw with her fingers.
“…seven?” You hazard a guess.
Mor smirks. “This is the third button I’m undoing.”
You nod hazily. “Three.”
“You’re counting down, remember?” Nesta murmurs, teasing the edge of your underwear. “What number are you on?”
“I’m…” You frown, struggling beneath the weight of your eyelids. “Eleven left?” You mumble. Hands lift from your sides, and you take gently hold of Mor’s jaw, pulling her back down, grazing your mouth against her own. “You can tear this one,” you murmur, “I can stitch the buttons on later…so, please?”
Against your cheek, Nesta’s lips curve into a smile. “That was quick.”
You scowl, attempting to turn to face her. “I’m not subbing too. You’re both already topping.”
Nesta laughs. “Who said anything about subbing?”
“You implied it when you-”
Mor’s teeth find gentle placement around your lower lip, tongue swiping across before lowering her mouth to your own. Heat sweeps in and you’re swept away from Nesta’s teasing.
Mor’s lips are soft and warm, her tongue eager and wet. Arousal circles in your abdomen, spine curving in attempts to press flush to both of them. You tilt your head, reaching for more access. Fingers slide into her hair, and you take a nip at her lower lip. Kissing her mouth, again and again, drawing apart to return at a different angle, moving in rhythm.
Amber eyes seem glazed as she pulls away, and you realise your blouse is open at last. She smiles as you realise, lifting a brow in expectation. “Zero,” you mumble, hastily. Her lips tug upwards at their edges, and she nods.
Slowly, two pairs of hands guide the chemise from your shoulders, down the slope of your arms, finally free to the floor. Bare, save for the skirt.
Nesta’s hands take hold of your hips as Mor steps away, turning you to face her. She claims your mouth swiftly, hand cupping your jaw, lifting you for a better angle. From your back comes the sound of rustling fabric as Mor begins ridding herself of her own clothes. Spurred on by the noise, you settle your hands at Nesta’s waist, stroking tenderly before wrapping round and coasting up her spine. A noise of pleasure hums in her throat as her lips move against your own, and you set to work on the laces of her dress.
Nesta’s free hand settles on your hip, nails grazing your bare skin in the way she knows you love. Gliding back and forth, stroking up your side, her thumb swiping beneath your breast. Breath catches in your throat as Nesta lifts her hand higher, touching your chest, squeezing affectionately. Your fingers fumble some of the strings, but you’re getting there, the bodice of her dress loosening around her honed figure.
At your back, Mor steps forward, laying her open mouth over a section of your throat, her own hands focused on the buttons of the skirt. She’s more bare than you, able to feel the soft press of her breasts flush against your spine. How delightful it would be to run your mouth over her, and watch her relax into the pleasure.
At last you finish with Nesta’s dress, and you pull apart long enough to watch the warm fabric pool around her legs. Between the two of you, you make quick work of her underclothes, pulling the vest over her head and tossing it to the steadily growing pile of clothes on your rug.
You consider going to your knees right then and there for her.
Thunder-grey eyes spark, a delicate brow arching knowingly. Her bare hands coast the bare skin of your waist, sending shiver across your body. “I think you should get yourself onto the bed, sweet thing.”
The pace picks up from there, the three of you falling into bed, sheets rustling as bodies move and control. You find your back pressed into the duvet, Nesta swinging a well-muscled leg over your waist, settling her weight atop your hips as her palms splay across your stomach, gliding upwards. “And here you were complaining about bottoming,” she muses, watching as you arch into her touch. She rocks gently atop your hips, rubbing her still-clothed cunt against you.
She should hurry and set herself on your face already.
Wetting your lip with your tongue, you put your hands on her hips, skating up to her waist as you make to pull her forward. “Come here,” you whisper, rolling your eyes playfully at her comment.
The smirk Nesta gives you as she leans closer has warmth unfurling across your chest.
Her mouth settles over yours once more, and you delight in following the curve of her spine with the tips of your fingers, squeezing her hind in your palms as her tongue swipes across your mouth. Nesta’s teeth nip at your lip, and you slide one hand further between her legs, delighted to find her curls already wet near her entrance. Her cunt is hot, and you moan into her mouth at the ease at which you can slide your fingers through her, pausing at her clit.
Between your own legs, Mor settles herself, the mattress dipping beneath her weight. Soft palms press at your thighs, guiding them apart, and arousal becomes a near unbearable ache.
Above you, Nesta shifts, pulling away to peer down at you. She presses a string of kisses down your cheek, one hand pushing hair from your face, thumb stroking back and forth just below your lip. Slowly, she moves just a little further up the bed, hands settling between the pillows to hold herself up. You open your mouth, allowing her to settle so one of her breasts receives the wet warmth of your lips and tongue, free hand cupping and squeezing her other while working between her legs.
Soon enough, Nesta is panting, heat rolling from her skin. You swipe your tongue across her nipple, circling and sucking, eager to draw more pleasure out of her. Tentatively, you stroke up and down her centre, spreading her wetness, covering your fingers to make the entrance easier.
Pleasure gathers in the pit of your stomach as Mor begins placing open-mouthed kisses along the insides of your thighs, teasing her way closer, and closer to where you want her the most. She strokes the flat of her fingers along your clothed cunt, rubbing her thumb against your clit, applying mouth-watering pressure. Slowly, she captures the band of your underwear with her teeth, and you lift your hips, allowing her to pull the garment free.
The sensitivity and anticipation is wonderful, thighs practically quivering, desperation translating into still more eager licks and kisses to Nesta’s breasts. A moan slips free from her mouth as you slip two fingers inside of her, her back curving as the heat intensifies between the three of you. You can hardly wait for Mor to make her move, pushing your legs wider in needful invitation.
A huff of laughter against your cunt almost has you whining, but then Mor’s mouth is warming your clit, tongue tasting the wetness that has gathered there, and the tension dissipates. Above you, Nesta shifts, demanding attention to her other breast, and you latch on greedily. So eager to please her.
Noises begin to be shared throughout the room as pleasure mounts, and it seems Nesta decides she wants something more.
Pulling back, Nesta runs her fingers through your hair, guiding it further away from your face. Teeth bite at her lower lip as she looks down at you with pink, flushed cheeks. “Hungry?” She whispers, with a coy smile.
You could almost start begging from that look.
Instead you nod your head, pulse spiking as you retract your fingers, shifting so Nesta can mount your mouth with better ease. Either side of your head, her knees sink into the mattress. White underwear clings to the sweep of Nesta’s hips, a damp spot evidence of her arousal, curls visible around the seam.
Your mouth is watering.
Above you, Nesta watches as your eyes devour her, fingers still playing with your hair, stroking your cheek, swiping beneath your lips. Silver gleams in the low, yellow light of your bedroom. “Open, for me,” she murmurs, fingers parting tenderly from beneath your jaw.
You obey without a second thought, and the pleasure-filled curve of Nesta’s lips as she shifts that final way up over you sends a new wave of wetness flooding between your legs.
Parting her thighs, Nesta lowers herself onto your face, the sturdy heat of her legs encompassing you more cosy than any pillow. Her scent wraps around you, and your arousal reaches a new high, moans humming in your throat as you press gentle kisses to the areas you can access: littering the inner parts of her thighs, up along the edge of her underwear, down the centre of her cunt, over her clit.
Mor runs her tongue straight up through the centre of your cunt, and your thighs twitch, red-nailed hands soothing over your legs, rubbing in gentle patterns as she laps at your wetness. Her lips seal around your clit, sucking gently while the tip of her tongue swipes up and down.
“Nesta…” you mumble, “please…”
She’s so close you can practically taste her.
“Mhmm? You want my underwear gone?” Nesta laughs softly from above, before lowering her voice further. “You want to taste me?”
“Please…” You press a kiss to her thigh, before licking at the damp cotton of her underwear. “You’ll enjoy it too… Why wait?”
The edges of Nesta’s lips quirk upwards as she glances over her shoulder. “Are you ready, Mor?”
“I’m ready,” you snap, knowing she’ll have gotten the strap on by now.
Nesta huffs a laugh, stroking your hair before seating herself firmly atop your mouth. “I don’t think I was talking to you, was I?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes, before eagerly returning to kissing and licking at the damp fabric.
Mor gets to her feet between your legs, and you shift your hips in excitement. “Sounds like she’s ready,” Mor laughs, lightly pinching your inner thigh. “She certainly looks wet enough… Isn’t that right?”
You moan into Nesta’s cunt, hands squeezing the tops of her thighs, circling your hips in invitation.
“Uh-huh, hold still now,” Mor instructs, able to hear the smile in her voice as she slides her hands beneath your legs, running the strap against your cunt, spreading the wetness. The tip nudges against your entrance, and Nesta temporarily lifts herself from your mouth as Mor begins easing her way inside with slow, gentle thrusts. Never pushing further than she’s welcome.
Heat unfurls throughout your body, panting against Nesta as she eases back to give you some breathing room. One of her hands settling over your own as Mor carefully works her way inside.
Soon enough Mor’s hips are flush with your own, arousal coating the strap like lube, allowing her to practically glide in and out without a hitch.
“Nesta…” you moan, eyes nearly rolling, “now can we…?” Nesta huffs a laugh, and Mor leans forward from behind, resting her chin atop Nesta’s shoulder.
“Would you mind?” Nesta murmurs, hand rising to cup Mor’s cheek, pressing a kiss to her warm, flushed skin.
Mor’s pink lips curve as she slowly trails her palm down Nesta’s front, and you trace her hand eagerly with your eyes. Red-nailed fingers brush the band of the white cotton, and a moment later, it’s gone. You almost sigh in relief, legs wrapping round Mor’s hips, palms eagerly taking a hold of Nesta’s waist to urge her forward.
Nesta arches a brow, a satisfied smile on her mouth as she follows your direction. “Eager,” she croons. You take a deep lick of her cunt, running up through her centre in response, moaning at the taste. Arousal gathered on your tongue, wet curls brushing your cheeks. Heaven.
It doesn’t take long from there.
Mor finds her pace, and soon enough you’re struggling to focus. Licking and kissing up and down Nesta’s cunt while her hips lightly undulate, fingers sinking into your hair—at first gentle and soothing, quickly baring her nails, blessing you with that wonderful scratch.
Moans slip free from Nesta’s lips as you lap up her arousal, getting drunk on the taste and feel and scent of her. Heat pouring in from every angle, pleasure building, and building, and building, until it’s all too much.
You feel the tipping point occur: the moment where you’re rapidly approaching the peak of your arc, crossing it…and finally being tossed into free fall.
Spine arching, your arms go weak. Barely managing to keep up the pace of pleasing Nesta as your own pleasure becomes so utterly overwhelming.
When you come to, Nesta’s touch has return to gentle, fingers soothing through your hair while Mor strokes across your thighs. You blink back into yourself, returning to attending to Nesta as soon as you’ve your wits about you, but Mor’s arms band around her waist, pulling her down your body until she’s back where she started: seated atop your hips.
Mor presses close to Nesta’s back, arms wrapping tight around her middle pressing small kisses to her throat. Nesta leans into her, head tipping back as she relaxes.
Amber eyes glitter with mischief, and you catch on quick, lifting into a sitting position to join Mor. Slipping your arms around Nesta’s waist, you peer up at her—pink cheeks, hot skin, chest rising and falling.
You kiss up her sternum, over her breasts, running your tongue over one of her nipples.
“Greedy,” Mor whispers to you, lightly sketching patterns into Nesta’s side with the tip of her nail.
“Very greedy,” you agree, nosing across Nesta’s skin. Drinking in the arousing scent of her. “Unfair, even.”
Nesta blinks, peering down at you. She glances sideward at Mor—tries to—then glances down at the pair of arms wrapped snuggly around her waist. The mischievous smile on your mouth, the teasing nip of Mor’s teeth against her neck.
Nesta huffs a laugh, lightly shaking her head. “I thought we had something going,” she laughs, tilting her head to the side, granting Mor further access.
“It’s only fair,” you say, watching contentedly as your mates kiss and smile at one another “Let us return the favour. It’s your turn to relax.”
Eris was seriously starting to question Cassian’s definition of ‘soon’.
“Az will be home soon, baby. Let me make you all flushed and needy while we wait for him, mh?”
He was way past just ‘flush and needy’. By now, he was outright horny and gods damned desperate.
A hiss followed by a moan slips through the Illyrian’s mouth above him when Eris hollows his cheeks to suck him deeper in his throat.
While waiting for Azriel to get home from his meeting with Rhysand, Cassian and Eris have messed around in bed, then in the bathroom where they after took a cold shower to calm down, before eating a small meal and moving things to the couch and returning to their steamy activities once again.
Cassian is sprawled out on the couch, Eris on his hands and knees between his legs, both stark naked in the comfort of Azriel’s cottage. One of his feet is planted to the floor, giving him the leverage needed to thrust up into Eris’ warm mouth, while the other rests beside Eris’ shoulder.
They both know better than to let Eris come without Azriel’s presence, so they force themselves to take things slow while patiently—Cassian is doing a way better job than Eris at that—waiting for their lover to return.
Eris feels the soft brush of shadows against his spit slicked rim and notices Cassian’s smug grin before he hears Azriel’s quiet footsteps. He doesn’t halt his blowjob when Azriel leans over Cassian, bracing himself against the armrest to greet him with a hard but quick kiss.
Eris’ cock twitches beneath him when Azriel turns his attention to him at last. He whines around Cassian’s cock, pulling back slightly but keeping it in his mouth just enough to suckle the tip.
“Hello to you too, pretty boy,” Azriel whispers sweetly, crouching beside the couch to level his face with Eris.
Azriel lifts his hand towards Eris, his thumb moving to his lower lip. The pad of his finger swipes over Eris’ bottom lip, brushing against Cassian’s cock in his mouth with the motion. Cassian thrusts up at the action, making Eris’ eyes flutter from the sheer intensity of having Azriel so close to him while sucking off someone else.
“Has he been good to you today?” Azriel asks Cassian without breaking eye contact with Eris.
“Yeah. He’s been good,” Cassian confirms, his tone nonchalant. “Very patient, too. We’ve fooled around a little while waiting for you. He hasn’t come yet.”
“Mh, I see,” Azriel hums, and Eris squirms at the pride shining through his hazel eyes. “Come here,” he commands, tapping two fingers to his lips as a request for a kiss.
Eris scrambles to obey, but he remembers—thankfully—to slowly let Cassian’s painfully hard cock slip from his lips. Amber eyes meet Cassian’s briefly, looking for confirmation, then when he gets a subtle nod back from him, Eris’ lips detach from his cock to instead meet Azriel's lips in a kiss full of teeth and tongue.
Scarred fingers find their grip in Eris’ thick red mane, keeping him close to him as he stands back up, moving Eris to a kneeling position on the couch. The smooth expense of Eris’ throat is stretched taut as he tries to follow the kiss. Azriel moves his other hand to wrap slightly around it, making Eris gasp, taking the opportunity to shove his tongue deeper inside Eris’ mouth.
When they part, Eris is panting and Azriel semi-hard in his leathers. Cassian shifts on the couch, straightening into a sitting position and letting his hand brush up against Azriel’s thigh. Azriel’s hand stops him before he can reach his crotch. Before Cassian can ask what’s wrong, he answers. “We’re not fucking on the couch. Bed, now.”
Eris nearly purrs when Azriel picks him up and carries him to their bedroom. His whole naked body is pressed tightly against Azriel’s still painfully clothed on. He lets his body melt into the strong arms carrying him, their bodies falling perfectly together like two pieces of a puzzle. His freckled nose finds Azriel’s comforting curve where neck meets shoulder, and he buries his whole face there.
His fingers flex against the shadow singer’s chest. The lingering smell of sweat is deliciously overcome by the musky and characteristically male scent of Azriel. Eris basks in it, dizzy with desire and longing for the male carrying him.
He wants Cassian too, obviously. But today, it’s Azriel that was missing and missed from the equation.
Cassian, walking in front of them, opens the door for the pair. He settles on the bed first, above the neatly made bed, and rests his back against the shit ton of pillows Eris deems essential.
“Here you go, sweet boy,” Azriel’s low voice announces.
Gently, as if Eris was a porcelain doll, Azriel untangles Eris from him and lays his head in Cassian’s strong lap.
Eris hums, turning his head to the side to press warm kisses on Cassian’s hipbone, as the general combs his thick fingers through his fiery locks. Eris feels soft and pliant in their presence, willing to be folded and molded into anything the two males desire.
Cassian keeping him on edge for hours on end has successfully and pathetically turned him into a molten mess.
Cassian’s snort makes Eris’ head move on his leg, and he’s surprised to realise how close he’d gotten to the male’s cock, solely driven by instinct.
“When were you going to ask?” Cassian grins, tilting his head to the side in question and cocking an eyebrow.
Eris isn’t quite sure. He feels lost in a daze, dizzy with too many feelings and scents. Azriel’s firm squeeze on his inner thigh is quick to ground him, bringing him back in the moment with them.
“I’m sorry,” Eris says, licking his lips and forcing his eyes to stay on Cassian’s face, instead of the cock standing proudly just under his nose.
“Stay focused, Eris,” Azriel commands, his voice stern but not unkind. “Use your words and tell us what you want.”
Cassian nods in encouragement, eyes still locked with Eris. Eris swallows, looks between the two males and says, “I- I want to be filled.”
“Meaning?” Azriel enquires. “You want to be filled where? With what? By whom? You need to give us a better answer than that, my boy.”
His boy.
Eris squirms in Cassian’s lap, pressing his thighs together to soothe the twitching ache the pet name does to his neglected cock. Azriel stares down at him with an unimpressed look, so he forces himself to calm down and come up with a better answer.
“I want to have Cassian’s cock in my mouth,” Eris tells Azriel, “And I want yours inside my ass.”
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up. “At the same time? The two of us?”
Eris is just about to nod when he remembers to use his words instead. “Yes, please.”
He waits patiently, his heart rate picking up as the silent conversation going on between Azriel and Cassian stretches. Finally, Cassian shrugs.
“Well, I don’t mind. We could try,” He says, unbothered. “Plus, he’s been really good today, Az. Might as well accept his request.”
“He asked nicely…” Azriel adds.
“He did ask nicely,” Cassian confirms, looking away from Azriel and down at Eris. His thumb pushes past Eris’ lips. He happily lets it slide into his mouth.
Eris can feel Azriel’s attention on him. It burns his skin and fuels his arousal like oxygen feeding a wildfire. He keeps his lips wrapped around Cassian’s finger, letting him move it in and out of his mouth in a lewd display.
“Alright, that’s enough of it now,” Azriel pulls Cassian’s thumb out of Eris’ mouth and flips him on his stomach. Eris comes face to face with Cassian’s cockhead. “Put your mouth to better use. Suck his cock now. You asked for it.”
Cassian hums and bends his knees on either side of Eris. He undoes the leather tie holding his hair up in a low bun and lets the wild curls of dark hair fall atop his shoulders. His fingers do a quick job of tying back Eris’ hair with it, making sure his face is free of fiery strands of hair, full on display.
Eris focuses on Cassian’s cock, barely aware of Azriel handling him from behind and lifting his hips until he’s satisfied with the position. Eris rests his body weight on his elbows, ass up with his cock throbbing and leaking from the tip between his legs as his mouth busies itself, full of Cassian.
His asshole clench to the familiar sound of the bottle of oil Azriel keeps on their nightstand. Eris looks up at Cassian in silent earnest. Cassian’s response is to push him further down onto his cock.
Once Azriel has warmed the lubricant between his fingers, he addresses Cassian.
“Spread his ass cheeks,” He asks, focused and filled with lust.
Cassian has to lean over Eris a little to reach his rear. His hands feel warm against Eris’ skin, and they almost cover all of Eris’ cheeks when he spreads them open for Azriel.
Eris instinctively presses up against Azriel’s fingers when they press against his rim. Azriel makes quick work of spreading the oil around Eris’ hole. Eris welcomes two fingers in easily, and sighs around Cassian’s cock when they push in and out of him a few times. It’s not nearly enough, and he hollows his cheeks around Cassian to make himself heard.
Cassian moans softly, making Eris moan back under him. Then, he chuckles. “He’s getting needy again, Azzie.”
Azriel huffs, both at the nickname and Eris’ insatiable hunger. But he doesn’t say anything, just pushes Cassian back against the headboard and moving his fingers out of Eris as his ass falls back into place.
The emptiness doesn’t last long. Eris doesn’t even have time to process and whine about it that Azriel’s head is pushing past his rim. Eris’ eyes roll back with a muffled cry as Azriel sinks in easily, right where he belongs.
Eris needs him; needs them both. He feels so full, so cared for from both males he adores.
Eris, ever the possessive little thing, never thought possible that one day someone would be sharing his and Azriel’s life. They’d worked so hard for the two of them to work out that he’d block the idea of this—him, Azriel, and Cassian—in a far corner of his mind.
Until they all fell together one day, without preamble, and chose to stay.
“Hey,” Eris distantly stares at Cassian, frowning above him. He didn’t realize he’d slip into his thoughts just now. “You’re okay?”
Cassian's finger was hooked gently under Eris’ chin and he had lifted him off his cock while Eris had been lost in thoughts. Eris licks his swollen lip, whines a little when Azriel halts his delicious movements, but nods. “I’m fine.”
“You’re crying,” Azriel notices, pulling Eris up against his chest to have a better look at his face, but remains inside when he feels Eris’ reluctance to be empty.
Eris touches his cheeks in disbelief. He hadn’t noticed nor felt the tears slipping from his eyes. He feels a tang of guilt in his chest when he realises how he must’ve worried them both.
“I’m sorry,” Eris rasps, his throat sore from Cassian’s cock. When worry starts to show on Azriel’s handsome face, he quickly adds. “They’re happy tears.”
Sensing Azriel’s hesitation, Eris rolls his hips back, his cock shifting deep inside his ass. “I like doing this together,” he adds, the end of his sentence breaking into a soft moan.
Cassian and Azriel understand the unspoken meaning behind Eris’ words. This is a first, the three of them sharing a bed and having sex together. Usually, Eris would have sex with either Cassian or Azriel, and the other would just watch. He has never wanted nor felt the need to complain about it. It was good, but this, all three of them together, finding and giving pleasure to one another, is something else. It’s something Eris wants and lets himself have without shame or regret. And the whole lot of emotions this brings him is what has made him cry.
“I understand,”—Cassian gets to his knees in front of Eris, his lips tracing the curve of his jaw as his hands explore his chest—“I like this, too,” he confesses, staring deep into Eris’ eyes as he speaks.
Eris chokes on a sound that is half-moan and half-sob, riding Azriel’s cock faster as he feels the pressure build within, about to explode.
Azriel softly nudges Eris forward so he’s pressed close to Cassian. Eris wraps his arms around Cassian’s neck, his nose pressed against the side of his neck. He latches his lips onto the skin, kissing and licking greedily.
Cassian leads Eris to his cock when he senses him blindly reaching for it with a shaky hand. Eris strokes him in tandem with Azriel’s thrusts, and soon, Cassian is as close to the edge as Eris.
“Come here,” Azriel groans, pulling Cassian’s face to him. His hips start to falter as they meet Eris’ butt with every movement.
Azriel buries his moan deep into Cassian’s mouth, shoving his tongue deep inside of it. Cassian swallows around it. His hand finds Eris’ cock expertedly, stroking it and twisting his fist on the way up in a way he knows will make him fall apart in seconds.
Unsurprisingly, Eris comes with a muffled moan, his teeth sinking deep into Cassian’s shoulder as he rides out his orgasm.
All it takes for Cassian to spill into the Autumn Lord's warm hand is a few more precise strokes, and for Azriel’s shadows to gently caress his sensitive wings. A shuddering breath falls from Cassian’s parted lips as he falls apart.
When he comes down, his body sags toward Azriel, trapping Eris between the two winged males.
Eris, after wiping his hand against the bedding, wraps his arms around Cassian's neck, letting Azriel carefully maneuver the group to lie down.
In those moments, Cassian always tends to turn into a cuddly beast, letting his body relax into Eris’ warmth. It's different from when Eris has sex with Azriel, where they always part for a few moments after a chaste kiss, so Azriel can rise from the bed and bring back the supplies needed to tend to Eris.
Despite their differences, Eris notices, their routine match.
Cassian curls into Eris' side, his head resting onto his shoulder as Eris combs through his curls. Azriel sits up and kisses Eris' lips before moving to do the same but on Cassian's forehead. He rises out of bed, leaving the pair tangled in each other, then comes out of the bathroom cleaned up, bringing warm wet rags as he makes his way back into bed.
Azriel cleans Eris first. There's nothing sexual in it. His touch is light and attentive as he cleans Eris’ skin. Then, he rubs Cassian's shoulder, shaking him a little until he stirs from his light slumber.
“Can I wash you?” Azriel asks, his voice soft and quiet as he speaks.
Cassian smiles subtly, and then he nods, shifting a little so Azriel can have access to the mess of cum on his toned abs.
Azriel goes through the same process with Cassian under Eris’ attentive gaze. Once he's done, he lays by Eris’ free side, slipping his arm underneath Eris’ pillow, his other hand finding Cassian's, resting on Eris’ stomach.
Eris closes his eyes and can't help but to smile fondly. He's warm and sated, surrounded by the two males he's allowed himself to be open with, their fingers tangled together on top of his stomach.
“We could do that again,” Eris offers, trying to sound nonchalant as he says it. “I had fun.”
“Now?” Cassian mumbles, half-asleep. “Don't count on me, I feel like you both sucked my soul out of my body.”
Azriel chuckles, the sound warm and low against Eris’ temple. “I don't think he meant now, sweetheart,” Eris feels the way Cassian nuzzles deeper into his chest at the term of endearment, he can almost feel the way his cheeks are probably heating up.
“But yes,” Azriel adds, more seriously, “We could. I enjoyed myself, too.”
“Alright, then,” Cassian yawns, stretching his legs under the sheets and pulling them up until they sit just under his nose. “Just gonna close my eyes a little now.”
Eris chuckles, knowing damn well that Cassian will probably be sleeping like the dead until probably tomorrow morning. Which is a good thing Azriel took the time to clean them up…
His eyes find Azriel's, hazel meeting amber. He smiles lovingly at the male and cups his cheeks, bringing him closer to share a kiss.
“I love you,” Eris whispers against the male's lips, low enough as to not disturb Cassian's rest.
“I love you, too,” Azriel whispers back with a soft but tired smile on his face. “More than you can imagine.”
ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld
Characters: Tamlin (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Eris Vanserra, Jurian (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Vassa (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Vanserra Brothers (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Cresseida (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Viviane's Sister (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Original Female Character(s), Azriel (A Court of Thorns and Roses), Nuan (A Court of Thorns and Roses)
Series: Part 2 of Vanserra Valley
Summary:
Lucien has returned to the Spring Court to help Tamlin rebuild. Elain has joined him as they explore an unconventional mating bond. When Eris stages a coup to overthrow his father, and takes political prisoners to ensure a renegotiated peace treaty, the three of of them are forced to spend a year in close quarters.
This fic is back! So happy to be delivering the final chapter one year later for @polysjmweek. Thank you to everyone who has stuck around, I hope it lives up to expectations!
The ritual came to a head as Conleth and Fintan realized they’re both mated to the same female. As it continues, can Neve handle their fire, or will she melt beneath their flames before the bonds are complete? Or maybe it’s the brothers who should worry about the sting of Neve’s ice.
Thank you to @climbthemountain2020 and @lady-of-tearshed for supporting me through developing this fic and betaing the chapter! Read the full "To Become A Vanserra" series, start the fic from the beginning, read the new chapter on AO3, or find a snippet below.
His mind roared.
Conleth couldn’t think over the feral beat of his heart in his ears. Nothing existed outside the sight of his brother standing before his mate.
His mate. Not Fintan’s, his.
Conleth’s fingers tingles, flames pulsing through his body, begging to be released. They burned boldly, as his fire always did.
Before him, Fintan was nearly unrecognizable. His robe was askew, glasses slipped down his nose and barely in place as he stared his elder brother down. Though Conleth knew his younger brother preferred the earth magic he’d painstakingly learned to pull, fire burned at Fintan’s fingertips. The red-gold flickers shone with staggering brightness, heat reaching Conleth though he was still steps away. A growl ripped from his Conleth’ chest as Fintan took a step back. The move was protective, not avoidant, and his legs came in swift contact with the bedframe behind him.
Conleth’s nostrils flared as his eyes caught on the delicate pale fingers curling around Fintan’s thigh. His brother reached down and placed a possessive hand over hers, claiming and protecting.
Fuck. Conleth thought. What if he’s a better mate than me?
That was it—the thought that set him off. In his periphery, Conleth saw Lucien try and step forward. Before he could move very far, Eris, robe draped lazily over his shoulders but left open and untied, grabbed their littlest brother’s arm. A knowing look passed between them that Conleth barely registered. He was too busy moving forward.
Finish the chapter on AO3.
Let me know if you want on or off the taglist! @born-to-riot @chunkypossum @bubybubsters @queercontrarian @yams-77 @fieldofdaisiies @iftheshoef1tz @secret-third-thing @jules-writes-stories @the-darkestminds @climbthemountain2020 @amalhe-kofee @molcat07 @sleepyy-ollie @astra-aeterna @popjunkie42 @tegantales
Summary: Your mate, Azriel, notices how your eyes wander whenever a certain redhead is in the room.
Warnings: sexually suggestive content, idk if there's anything else
Words: 1k
Author's Note: I'd hoped to add some smut to this before posting day but... oh well lol. That could always be a part 2 if I feel the need. Let me know what you think!
18+ only pls
💙🧡🤍🧡💙
Your mate was perfect.
Azriel was everything you’d ever wanted in a mate, and more. He was sweet, gentle, and caring, not to mention the handsomest male you’d ever met.
And yet… Your eyes wandered.
Tonight was no different.
Eris Vanserra, the newly crowned High Lord of Autumn, had been invited to the revel in the Hewn City tonight, and your eyes were on him the majority of the time that you weren’t wrapped up in Azriel. Currently, he was off doing surveillance on your brother’s orders, meaning you were free to observe the foreign High Lord as much as you liked.
You felt a slight chill as Azriel’s shadows wrapped around you, his arms following soon after. “See something you like?” he asked lowly in your ear, nipping at the sensitive skin.
Your cheeks flushed red at knowing you’d been caught, but your eyes still stayed on Eris. “Maybe…” you whispered.
“It’s fine if you do, sweetheart. You know I want to make you happy however I can.” You twisted your neck to look in his hazel eyes, and found that he was telling the truth.
“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you be… jealous?” you asked quietly.
“Only if I couldn’t participate,” Azriel said, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise you that I am open to you inviting Eris into our bed.”
“You promise promise? You won’t be secretly mad at me?”
“I swear on our bond that I will not be mad, Y/N. In fact…” Azriel pulled you closer to him, your rear brushing against his hardness. “I would gladly ravish you with another male.”
Your cheeks turned scarlet at his words, heat rushing to your core as you debated the possible consequences of approaching Eris. If he said yes, you would get to have sex with your mate and the male who’s lived in the back of your mind since you met him. But if he said no, there’s a possibility your offer would get back to Rhys… Who would no doubt be furious that his little sister tried to have a threesome with Eris.
You didn’t have time to decide when Eris approached the pair of you, his casual confidence and ease in your court only fanning the flames of your desire.
“I thought I felt a pair of pretty eyes on me all night,” Eris said as he stood at your left side, grabbing a flute of faerie wine from a passing tray. “Trying to spy on me for your brother, Princess?”
“No, I…” you started, but your words failed you with him this close.
“She was admiring how appealing you look tonight,” Azriel said bluntly, his amusement at your sudden shyness flooding down the bond.
“Oh? And you let your pretty little mate look at other males, Shadowsinger?”
“I let my pretty little mate do whatever she likes, so long as she tells me about it.” You gently slapped Azriel’s arm, face somehow heating even further.
Eris turned his head to look at you, a smirk sliding over his face when he saw your cheeks. “Would you like for me to take you into a secluded hallway and have my way with you?”
Your knees almost gave out at the intensity in his eyes. “Not a hallway…”
“Where then, little Princess?”
“We could show you to our rooms,” you said quietly, turning your body so that you were facing him. “My mate wants to play with me too.”
“If that is what it takes for me to fuck you senseless, so be it,” Eris said, that smirk still on his face. “Show the way, little one.”
Your heart beat faster - inviting Eris to bed and actually going to bed with Eris were two entirely different things, especially when you’d been thinking about this very moment for months. You nodded your head and pulled yourself from Azriel’s arms, taking one of his hands and heading for your room. It was difficult to not look behind you to make sure Eris was serious as you left the throne room, and even more difficult to make it all the way to your rooms without letting the both of them take you in some random hallway where anyone could see.
After an eternity of walking, you made it to the room that was kept for you in the Hewn City. You swung the door open and entered first, letting Azriel’s shadows close the door silently behind the three of you.
Standing in one of the rooms you shared with your mate, another male poised to fuck you, you grew nervous.
“Come here, little bird,” Eris cooed, his hands extended towards you. You hesitated, but Azriel gently pushed your back, spurring you into motion. You were in Eris’s arms in the next moment, heart fluttering as you gazed up at him, eyes darting from amber ones to his plush, pink lips. Eris leaned in, mouth poised over yours as he waited for you to take that final step, to be sure that you wanted this.
You pushed up on your toes, lips meeting his. They were as soft as you’d imagined, warmed by the fire running through his veins. You felt Azriel’s desire coursing through the bond as Eris deepened the kiss, one of his hands coming to tangle in your hair.
He was intoxicating already, better than the wine that was being served downstairs. Heat coursed through you as his free hand drifted lower, coming to grip your ass through the skirts of your dress. Your own hands found his hair, gripping the silky locks tightly. When he broke away for air, Azriel was behind you, turning your head so that he could claim your lips. You were dizzy with need between the two males, more than ready to be taken to bed, hopefully until the sun began to break over the mountains.
