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prythianpages · 5 months
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Stuck on You | Part Two
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cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.
“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”
[part one] [part two] [part three] [edit/sneak peak] [part four] [final part] [solstice bonus]
A/N: you finally get to see the line above in this part! I also used writing prompts from @dumplingsjinson to help me with some of the dialogue. you can find the original post here.
Warnings: fluff, some angst, mentions of death
**
“Y/N?”
You spun around, eyes widening in surprise and recognition. “Cassian,” you whispered, your heart dancing erratically within your chest as you took in the sight of him.
“You remembered my name.” A warm grin spread across his face at the sound of his name coming from your pretty lips. 
"How could I ever forget?" you remarked with a gleam in your eye and your words left him blushing, the memory of the night you two spent together surfacing vividly, even after all these years.
His presence was powerful and imposing, just as you remembered. Towering over you, his tall and muscular frame overwhelmed your senses, accompanied by the intoxicating scent of cedar and balsam that clung to him. His warm amber eyes lingered on you, a silent exploration that traced the contours of your figure as if he were undressing you with his eyes before lifting to meet your gaze once more.
You couldn’t shake the disbelief that gripped you. You thought you’d never see him again.
“Cassian?”  A small voice interrupted, pulling your gazes away from each other and back to the young girl. “I’ve never met you before.”
Cassian studied her. She could only be a couple of years old, no older than a decade. A fact that set the gears in his mind into motion. Could she be–
“Cassian is–is an old friend of mine.” You swiftly explained to the young girl. “Cassian, this is Seraphine. My sister.”
The blood returned to Cassian’s face as a small wave of relief washed over him. Sister. This little girl was your sister, not his long-lost secret child. There was a glimmer of amusement in your eyes when you caught the look on his face.
“Can you be my friend too?” Seraphine pleaded with her eyes. Her tiny hands grasped onto Cassian’s larger hand and she urged him to take the seat next to her. He looked at you and you could only send him an apologetic look, gesturing with your hands to take a seat as well, mouthing at him that your little sister didn’t have many friends. He felt a tug in his heart at your revelation so with a kind smile, he took the seat next to Seraphine.
“Of course.” Cassian replied. “What is it that you were drawing earlier?”
Seraphine squealed in excitement as she pulled out her notebook, showing him the pegasus she had been drawing. Cassian bit back his laugh as he took in the drawing that had a delightful charm, one only kids can bring to their creations.
You heard your name being called out again and when you turned your head, you saw that one of your tables was in need of more ale. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as you contemplated. The tavern was small enough that even when your sister would sit alone, you could still keep a watchful eye on her. You knew your sister would be in safe company with Cassian, but you could sense that he wanted to talk. Over what you had no clue but you were itching to know too.
“Are you hungry?” You asked and before he could respond, you simply nodded your head as you decided for him. “Let me bring you something to eat as well. I’ll be right back.”
Cassian watched as you disappeared behind a worn counter. You returned to the table but only for a brief moment as you placed a plate of warm food in front of him and then you were running off to attend to other tables, pouring out drinks and smiles with ease. 
A smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about you. He only knew you for one night but that had been enough to know the spark you carried. Yet, the spark that had drawn him in seemed dimmed now and you carried yourself as if burdened by a weight he couldn’t quite discern.
“You’re staring.”
Cassian startled. He had forgotten all about the young girl beside him. “Sorry.” 
Seraphine giggled and she grinned as she looked up at her new friend. “You like my sister.”
His own lips curled up into a shameless grin. “Yes, I do.”
“Will you marry her?”
“Maybe,” Cassian replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
 He did like you. 
One of his biggest regrets was not asking you to stay with him. After your bodies were spent from the immense amount of pleasure you drew out from one another, he had cuddled you against him with the pretense of keeping you warm but in reality, he just wanted to hold you longer. You had laughed as you plucked a leaf from his hair. The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking and he had already planned to take you out for a nice breakfast in Velaris once the restaurants would open. However, at the break of dawn, you had insisted you had to leave and you were running off before he could ask where to find you again.
He did look for you, though. He begged Azriel to help him find you but he had only been able to track down the friend you had arrived at the bonfire with. She was the one who had given him the unfortunate news that you had left Windhaven with your mother, not knowing where you had gone to.
“Papa liked my mama so he married her.” Seraphine said, her voice growing quiet. He failed to notice the quiver of her lip. “He liked her a lot, said it’s why they had me…but mama got attacked and then he died…y/n won’t get hurt will she? You won’t die, will you?”
Seraphine’s eyes lined with silver and she began to cry. 
Cassian frowned and turned to her, his hand wiping away at her tears with an ache in his chest at what her words insinuated. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt y/n, not under my watch. And don’t worry about me, munchkin. I plan to live for a long time.”
Your head whipped at the sound of your sister crying. In an instant, you were at the table, dropping to your knees as you brought Seraphine into your embrace. Her tears dampened your shirt but you did not care. Your hand ran through her hair while the other rubbed against her back in a soothing manner, your own eyes brimming with tears and realization dawned on Cassian as to why your spark had dimmed.
**
“Come with me.”
“What?”
“Come with me.” Cassian repeated, following after you and helping you pick up the dirty plates scattered along the now empty tables as you prepared to close the tavern.
After Seraphine had settled with the help of some hot cocoa, Cassian had pulled you aside to talk, ignoring the wary look Azriel kept sending his way. They had stayed much longer than they had planned. Rhysand had already worriedly called into their minds, demanding to know why and for them to return. But Cassian refused to leave without knowing more about you and what had happened over the past seven years. 
 It was then when you explained everything, starting with the night you two spent together and why you had to leave so quickly after. You hadn’t planned to attend the bonfire celebration that night but it was your last night in Windhaven and you gave in to your friend’s request, deciding that you would finally let go and be free, have fun for once. No one would remember you, anyway, or so you had thought.
The very next morning you and your mother moved back to her home camp, Ironcrest, where she married an old friend of hers who promised to take care of not only her but you as well. Your mother had been treated poorly, shunned by Ironcrest, after falling victim to a high fae that had been visiting. She found out she was pregnant shortly after. It was already hard being a female in an Illyrian war camp and even more so being a single mother. The two of you moved from camp to camp, wherever your mother could find a job to sustain the both of you until you were old enough to help. You had only lived in Windhaven during the years of the war, which explained why Cassian had never seen you before the bonfire.
The man your mother had married was nice and kind, a stark contrast among the many Illyrian males at the camps. He was able to take care of her and you well with the help of his tavern and he was elated when he found out your mother was pregnant. He had hoped for a son, as most men do, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he finally got to meet sweet little Seraphine. 
Your family had lived a quiet and peaceful life, doting over Seraphine who had brought you all such joy. That is, until, a drunken Illyrian male, who had remembered your mother from years before you were born, decided to attack her out of spite. Of course, your step-father had intervened. He had not been trained as a warrior like the drunk Illyrian male had but that didn’t deter him from fighting back until his very last breath.
You had been the one to find your murdered mother and step-father. You’d never forget the gruesome sight of their lifeless bodies or the immense anger that had cursed through your veins when the murderer was let go and freed, having convinced the council that he had acted upon honor. You were utterly and completely helpless as your mother’s body was not granted the same respected burial as your step father was.
It had been a couple of months since their deaths and in those months, you focused on taking care of Seraphine. You were grateful your step father had taken you under his wing and taught you about business here and there. It was what helped you run the tavern on your own. That and the false pretense that your step-father’s brother, the only living relative Seraphine had that neither of you have met, was overseeing the business.
You settled the last of the dirty dashes into the bin, deciding that you would take care of them the next morning. You leaned against the counter to face the persistent Illyrian male before you. He took this as his opportunity to approach you, bridging the distance between you.
“I can take care of you and Seraphine.” He was so close and when he leant down, your eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the warmth radiating from him, your body aching for more.
“Was I really that good? To have the Lord of Bloodshed remember me after all this time and offer to take care of me?”
There was humor in your tone and Cassian was smirking at you. So you had also done a little digging at him after your night with him. He caged you in with both his arms and wings. “I think about you and that pretty cunt of yours so often. Sometimes even when I’m with other females.” 
“You do?” You breathed in pleasant surprise, you had only meant to tease him. His words went straight to your core and you wanted nothing more than to give in to him, to feel him all over you.
Cassian felt a familiar cool caress–one of Azriel’s shadows–at the back of his neck and then it was yanking on his hair in warning. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, catching the way you composed yourself. He would’ve loved to tease you about it and if he had time, he would’ve loved to show you the effect you had on him. Even after all these years.
“I’m being serious though. My offer is not driven by lust or any ulterior motive but as a friend.”
“Friend?”
“It’s what you called me earlier.” He replied, a note of gentle reproach in his tone. A wistful smile played on his lips. “And while I would like to be more than a friend, that sounds like a promising starting point.”
“I’m sorry, Cassian, but I don’t think I can.” You frowned, crossing your arms against your chest, as you fought the urge to say yes. “I just–I don’t know.”
While he promised to take care of your little sister too, it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you could tell he meant well and his offer was genuine. Your reservation was heavily based on the variability of it all. This life, as miserable as it was, is all you knew and for the moment, it was keeping both you and your sister safe.
**
Seraphine squinted up at the towering Illyrian male, who you had left her with while you talked with Cassian. He claimed to be Cassian’s friend. “Azriel,” he had introduced himself and when her curious gaze followed his shadows, he added: “Shadowsinger.”
“You don’t look like a Shadowsinger.”
“I’m a special kind.” Azriel’s lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “What does a Shadowsinger look like to you?”
“I dunno know. A performer maybe?” Seraphine replied with a shrug of her shoulders, giggling when a shadow brushed across her shoulders in a playful manner. She then studied Azriel again, taking in the numerous weapons strapped to his body and the strength he carried. 
“Did you ever kill anyone?”
The hint of the smile dropped from Azriel’s face and he cleared his throat. “We’re getting out of subject here.”
“Alright Sera,” you nervously chided as you reappeared, Cassian trailing behind you. You rested one hand on your little sister’s shoulder while the other brushed against her cheek in a soft warning. You had heard snippets from their conversation and you were worried your sister’s curiosity had offended the Shadowsinger. “That’s enough questions.”
“It’s alright.” Azriel said, politely brushing off your concern. He then turned to his friend. “But we do have to go.”
Seraphine followed Azriel’s gaze and her lips curved into a pout. Slipping from your grasp, she ran to Cassian, tapping his leg to capture his attention. Cassian’s attention drifted back to the young girl and he crouched to be eye level with her, a fond smile gracing his lips.
“You’ll come visit us again, right?” Seraphine asked and with a sudden seriousness, she added: “Friends visit friends often. It’s a rule.”
“Sera–” You started.
“Of course I will.”
Cassian’s gaze locked with yours as he rose to his feet. He gave Seraphine a light pat to her head that had her giggling and then he was standing in front of you. You raised your brows  in surprise at him. You thought declining his offer would’ve put him off, so you were surprised he still wanted to see you.
His hand reached for yours and without breaking eye contact, he brought it up to his lips. A small gesture that sent warmth flooding through you--a promise that he would visit again.
“Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.”
You were at a loss for words, your thoughts a tangled mess. A feeble nod was all you could manage before awkwardly clearing your throat, realizing the weight of what you had agreed to. Cassian must’ve sensed your inner turmoil because he was grinning down at you in response.
He would’ve stayed longer, lost in the moment, if it weren’t for Azriel. The Shadowsinger’s gaze bore into Cassian’s back, prompting him to hesitantly release your hand. He must’ve not been moving fast enough because Azriel was pulling him by the cuff of his leathers, sending a nod in farewell to you.
Even as Azriel guided Cassian out the door and you returned your attention to your little sister, Cassian’s gaze was stuck on you.
**
Cassian, true to his word, returned a couple of days later, bearing gifts. Flowers adorned with vibrant hues for you and a plush pegasus that resembled the strange but endearing drawing Seraphine had shown him the night they first met. Of course, your little sister was over the moon with him, beaming with delight as she ran around the tavern and clutched the pegasus to her chest.
He returned almost every other night, the two of you falling into a weekly routine with ease. There were times where his visits would be delayed but he always told you ahead of time.
On bustling evenings, he would keep Seraphine company at her table, often coloring and drawing with her. During the quieter tavern nights, the three of you would have dinner together. He would flirt with you shamelessly every time he could, keeping it age appropriate whenever Seraphine was within hearing range but on the moments he had you alone, the teasing words slipping from his lips were sinful. Flirting was new territory to him and he loved trying it with you, rejoicing in every reaction he drew from you.
 As the nights would wind down and you closed up the tavern, he would walk the both of you home. If Seraphine was sleepy, Cassian would scoop her up in his arms with a gentleness that melted your heart. On more spirited nights, she would ride atop his shoulders, giggles echoing through the dimly lit streets as her tiny wings spread and she pretended she was flying. Always, his free hand sought yours, and sometimes, you would let him intertwine his fingers with yours.
He was patient with you and you knew that if you had told him to stop, he would. Yet, deep down, you found that you didn’t want him to. You found a quiet pleasure in his presence, a sentiment that bloomed into something more just as the flowers he gifted you did with each shared moment.
**
The tavern was alive with the lively hum of laughter and clinking glasses as Cassian entered. His eyes quickly sought you out. You moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, your stubborn demeanor evident in the way you navigated the bustling tavern. His fists clenched when one of the males got handsy with you, his hand trailing too low on your back as you tended to his table and he fought the urge to teach the male a lesson when he saw your reaction. But then you were forcing a small smile on your face that didn't reach your eyes and laughing at what the male said with such practiced ease, it tore at his heart a little.
Cassian turned his head, unable to bear the sight any longer. If he did, he worried he'd lead his simmering temper take over and disrupt the lively atmosphere of the tavern.
He spotted Seraphine at her usual table. She was too engrossed in coloring one of the drawings before her, her small tongue peeking out and eyebrows furrowed to notice Cassian. Her pegasus plush, which she had named Scrump, was resting beside her coloring book.
**
When Cassian spotted you behind the bar, he decided to finally approach you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he rested his elbows on the counter and leant in toward you.
“Hello, Sweetheart.”
Your hand trembled slightly, flustered by his presence as you poured him a drink and you were grateful that there was a physical barrier between the two of you.  “Why is your face so close?”
Cassian didn’t miss a beat, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that had heat pooling in your stomach and heart fluttering. “Well, do you like it this close?” 
When you didn’t respond, Cassian continued. “You know what I just realized?”
“What?” You asked, deciding to entertain him while you handed him his drink.
His fingers brushed against yours, lingering for longer than needed as he took the drink from you. “How utterly adorable it is when you get flustered.”
You shot him a skeptical glance. “You did not just realize it.”
“No,” he grinned, bringing his drink to his lips. “But I wanted an excuse to point it out.”
“Cas Cas!”
Cassian pulled away at the joyous shout of his name and he turned around just in time to catch a beaming Seraphine into his arms. He spun her around playfully, a chuckle escaping him, and your heart felt a twist. As endearing as the gesture was, there was a lingering ache within you. It struck you that your little sister was forming an attachment to the Illyrian male, much like you were, and the uncertainty of it all left you feeling a sense of fear and vulnerability. The two of you had already lost so much.  
As the night unfolded, Cassian engaged you in lively banter, sharing stories that drew genuine laughter from you. He learned more about you. Your dreams, your favorite songs and the tales you held close to your heart. The stubborn walls you had built seemed to soften with every visit.
He walked you both home that night. Seraphine had chosen to skip ahead of you two, singing an Illyrian nursery rhyme but his hand like always, was wrapped around yours. When you had reached your doorstep, you unlocked the door for your sister, instructing her to prepare for bed and that you’d be there shortly.
The door was left slightly ajar, in case she needed you, as you leaned against the wooden wall beside it. You opened your mouth to bid Cassian farewell but found yourself at a loss for words as he leaned in. His hand released yours only to cage you into the wall behind you with hands splayed on either side of you. He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “You know, I’m starting to think, maybe, just maybe, you’re falling for me too.”
A blush tinted your cheeks and you met his gaze. Your playful scoff couldn’t mask the truth in your eyes. There was a softness there that hadn’t been there before. “Maybe you’re not as insufferable as I thought.”
Cassian grinned, the realization of progress sweetening the air. He leant down further, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickered to your lips and then back to your eyes. Your  eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation but then the warmth grew farther and upon opening your eyes, you found him staring at you.
“What?”
“I just think it’s funny that even on your tiptoes, you still can’t reach me.”
You glared, not realizing that you had, in fact, been standing on your toes to reach his lips. In that charged moment, something sparked within you. Swiftly, you elbowed directly into his gut with ease and on instinct he leaned down with a groan, meeting your level once more. Seizing the opportunity, you captured his lips into a kiss and smiled when you felt him move his mouth against yours.
 His tongue swept along your bottom lip and you pulled away, a smug look on your face. “Who’s laughing now?”
“Come here, you,” he said, his voice a breathless whisper as he leant down once more. With the help of his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you close, his lips pressing against yours. This time, when he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, you didn’t pull away, choosing to allow him in instead, tentatively opening your heart to the possibility of love.
**
Cassian didn’t visit the following day or the day after that. It had been two whole weeks since his last visit, the night you two kissed. You wondered if you had scared him away. Maybe, he realized he didn’t like you after all, reducing all you two shared to nothing but physical attraction.
These thoughts did nothing to soothe you and you couldn’t help it when the pain that had been lingering deep within your chest resurfaced as you noticed Seraphine’s head lift in anticipation every time the door to the tavern was opening only to be met with disappointment.
Finally, almost a whole month later, Cassian appeared. His cheeks were flushed from the cold winter air. Seraphine did a double take, her eyes widening in a mixture of joy and disbelief as she recognized her friend. She ran up to him, the question she had been asking you every night tumbling from her lips. “Cassian, where have you been? I missed you! Scrumps missed you too!”
“I’m sorry, little one.” Cassian frowned, patting the back of her hair as she clung onto his leg. “I missed you, too.”
You approached the two, arms folded across your chest. There was a look in your eyes he couldn’t quite discern–apprehension, perhaps– and it filled him with unease. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up, Sweetheart. Rhysand sent me on a mission and–”
“It’s okay. You don’t owe us an explanation,” you were interrupting, motioning for him to follow you to the table Seraphine sat at every night. Your voice was quiet, a low murmur, as your next words slipped out of your mouth. “You don’t owe us anything.”
But Cassian heard it–the weight in your words. That unspoken ache. The unease in his chest grew. He didn’t mean to hurt you.
The walls Cassian had once broken down were now back up and he hated the distance that had settled between you. 
Since the tavern was quiet and idle, the three of you had dinner together and he dedicated it all to you and your sister, wanting to know what he had missed. He discovered that Seraphine had lost a tooth, chuckling when she eagerly showed him the gap where her front tooth once resided and the amusing whistling sound she could now produce. Relief washed over him when, finally, you smiled at him again over something he had said. It led you back to your usual banter, offering a fleeting but welcomed respite from the awkward tension that had momentarily taken hold. 
You gradually allowed him back in, though this time, with a more guarded embrace.
“And what about you, my sweets?” Cassian’s attention was on you, wanting to know what you had been up to the past couple of weeks.
“It’s been quiet here without you.” You admitted, oblivious to the fact you hadn’t quite answered his question.
Cassian’s eyes brightened. “You missed me.”
You choked on your ale, bringing your hand to your chest. “I didn’t say that.” 
Cassian turned to Seraphine with a grin. “She just said she missed me, right?”
“Definitely.” Seraphine replied almost instantly, mirroring the curve of his lips with a toothy grin of her own.
“Traitor,” you playfully accused your sister with a roll of your eyes. She stuck her tongue out at you and you chuckled. Not wanting to dwell on your small confession for too long, you shifted to rise from your seat, deciding now was the perfect time to return to your duties.
Cassian’s hand sought out yours, gently halting you. “Hey, since you missed me so much, why don’t you go out with–”
“Cassian, I told you. I can’t. I–” Your voice hushed, gaze flickering to your little sister, who finished her dinner. Grateful that she was engrossed in conversation with Scrumps, her pegasus plush, you added, "I have a lot to deal with right now."
Before you could say anything more, or he could respond, the call from one of your tables beckoned you away. An apology reflected in your eyes as you left, and Cassian watched with a hint of longing as you attended to your duties.
"Don't worry," Seraphine's voice drew his attention away. He turned to the young girl, who munched on her food with an air of amusement in her eyes. "She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read her diary."
“She thinks it's fancy?”
Cassian's hand instinctively reached up toward his hair, currently tied up in a loose bun. Her innocent words stirred a spark of hope within him. Although you were stubborn, he could sense that you wanted--you longed--for him too.
He would not give up on you, refusing to surrender the love that continued to bloom within his heart.
**
tag: @kemillyfreitas
a/n: i watched lilo & stitch while writing this part and Cobra bubbles lowkey gave me Azriel vibes so I couldn't help but incorporate that small scene of Lilo asking him if he ever killed anyone lol. the next part might be posted tomorrow, depending on how far I get along with my studies for the day. i plan to finish this series soon <3
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 8 months
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omg i loved the baby daddy az blurb, same idea but for cassian??!
Daddy to be
Cassian... Cassian... Cassian... well this man has family man written all across his face. Like sir is a gentle giant. He's at times a little forgetful of his size but he has so much love in his system he just can't help it.
Well, I know that you and your neighbor are thinking about it so I'll just say it. He'd be so dang cocky when you get pregnant. Because well he was a part of that and his shot struck straight to the target. So are you smacking him across the head for trying to give a visual representation on how you two had sex that resulted in a baby? Yes. But it's Cassian so idk what anyone is expecting.
On a serious note, he's an angel. He wants to make sure that you are well and taken care of. Changes your whole workout schedule. And Mother forbids you to try to lift weights. He would fly from the other side of the training ground just to snatch them out of your hands. I think assisting you through your workouts as your pregnancy progresses would be one of his favorite things. He gets to make sure you're doing everything safely but also gets to touch your bump while he corrects your posture. Lots of, "Two more mamas, that's my girl", and "Look at you go, ma".
I also think that he worries about the smallest things. A sight of discomfort would send him into a frenzy. "Is she coming?", "Did you feel something?", "Rhys", the last one is dedicated to his high lord but he needs someone who's gone through this. And Rhys never fails to answer even the most random question. But he's also so good at hiding his anxiety. Don't get me wrong he shares his fears but there are times when he knows that him panicking and showing it to you would cause more harm than good.
Cassian also gets very particular about the food you eat. Again, nothing in a way that would restrict you or tell you what to do. He just loves getting your plate ready for you for dinner. And he's bringing it to you, looking like an absolute puppy as he tells you everything that he put there. Reassuring you that you don't have to eat stuff that doesn't appeal to you, that he would do it. But let's face it. Cassian knows your craving to the tea and the food he brings is always exactly what you crave.
Just absolutely lives for late evening bedtime routine. Cassian is in charge of putting oils and moisturizing mixtures all over your tummy and boobs and bum and thighs. And if he's not kneeling in front of you while doing so, then he has you lying on the bed, while he takes his time rubbing his palms slowly over your growing tummy. Has the sweetest of smiles when he says, "Look, I can't no longer cover our moon dust with my palms", he beams at your bump that had popped, "Keep on cooking there, little one. Grow big and strong".
Has exclusive conversations with the baby. That involves a blanket over his head and he's whispering into your tummy and of course, it tickles you so you giggle but that means that he can no longer feel the baby moving so you get a grumpy face flashed at you from underneath the blanket, "Ma'am you are currently interrupting a high-level conversation", you have to bite your lip as to not start laughing, "This is serious business".
He's lord of bloodshed. So are we surprised that anyone who even thinks about touching your bump ends up pressed to the nearest wall? That's where his protectiveness is the highest. Cassian had gotten into his head that anyone who wants to touch you and the babe now means only harm. So no. No one is even allowed to breathe in the direction of the bump. He's snarling and growling, and threatening. His wings are never casually folded now. No, he's walking around like a man who's ready to fight even the wind who blew into your direction too much.
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hauntedwitch04 · 7 months
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KINKTOBER
Hi! Here is my kinktober masterlist, it's my first time trying to do this trend, so I hope you like my writing. I'll later post a question for you all to anwer, to see who you want the last one about. Hope you like it. I'll try my best <;33
Requests are open I Ask
My masterlist
Join the Taglist
Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission
SPECIAL KINKTOBER TAGLIST
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Hate sex with Regulus Black 
Dirty talk with Dean Winchester 
Sex pollen  with Azriel  
Daddy kink with Steve Harrington 
Body worship with Rhysand 
 Size kink with Sam Winchester 
 Orgasm denial with James Potter 
 Public sex with Nyx Acheron
 Somnophilia with Regulus Black 
 Thigh-riding with Cassian
 Breeding with Remus Lupin 
 Tit-fucking with Dean Winchester  
 Caught masturbation with Steve Harrington 
 Innocent with Remus Lupin
 Brat taming with Eris Vanserra 
 Toys with Sirius Black 
 Mommy kink with Nesta Acheron 
 Lingerie with  Rhysand 
Overstimulation with James Potter 
Face sitting with Sam Winchester 
Praise kink with Sirius Black 
Corruption with Priest!Sam Winchester 
Shadow play with Azriel 
Spanking with Remus Lupin 
Car sex with Dean Winchester 
Threesome with Nesta Acheron and Cassian 
Omegaverse with Dean Winchester
Cockwarming with Eris Vanserra
Phone sex with Sam Winchester 
Bondage with Azriel 
Roleplay with REGULUS BLACK (chosen by you)
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bat-boys · 18 days
Text
domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
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Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 
"Shadowsinger." You purred. 
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  
Read Part 2 here!
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thehighladywrites · 3 months
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“TWITTER VISUAL LINKS” - acotar characters
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warnings: nsfw, sex, toys, straight up porn tbh
summary: down right nasty visual links with your favs👀
do you have trouble seeing the posts? - in order to see the links, you have to have an account on X, former twitter, and remove safe search:
amara’s note: don’t mind me, just sharing some visuals with my favs
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ᯓ★ RHYSAND
⟢ getting stretched out on his thick cock !
⟢ mutual masturbation, handjob + fingering !
⟢ rhys putting his angel mate in a mating press !
⟢ rhys taking his time, eating you out !
⟢ rhys giving you a creampie !
⟢ afternath of said creampie !
⟢ laying on top of rhys while he fingers you !
⟢ showing rhys your newest lingerie set !
ᯓ★ CASSIAN
⟢ fucking yourself on cassian’s cock !
⟢ cassian fucking his sweetheart sideways !
⟢ struggling to take cassian’s massive cock !
⟢ getting deepstroked by him !
⟢ cassian having your legs spread, playing with your pussy !
⟢ daddy cassian holding hands and rewarding you !
⟢ topping cassian and riding hard !
⟢ cassian’s pov of fucking you in missionary !
⟢ feral cassian can’t get enough of his girl’s tits !
ᯓ★ AZRIEL
⟢ getting pounded from behind !
⟢ sitting on his dick and riding !
⟢ riding azriel’s face !
⟢ azriel absolutely destroying your back !
⟢ hair pulling + doggy style with azriel !
⟢ temperature play with azriel !
⟢ modern az fucking you in the backseat of his car !
⟢ azriel sucking on your tits !
⟢ daddy plays with your pussy !
ᯓ★ ERIS VANSERRA
⟢ bending you over and giving your pussy slaps as punishment !
⟢ holding you bridal style and fucking you mid-air !
⟢ sitting in his lap while he rubs your clit !
⟢ eris sucking on his girl’s nipples !
⟢ being obsessed with eris’s fingers and developing an oral fixation !
⟢ handcuffed and rawdogged by him !
⟢ eris eating you out !
⟢ your little brain goes crazy bc of overstimulation !
ᯓ★ LUCIEN VANSERRA
⟢ lucien showing you his headgame !
⟢ 69’ing with his mate !
⟢ getting your tits sucked while riding him in the morning !
⟢ softly making out mid sex !
⟢ giving lucien a blowjob !
⟢ getting punished with ass slaps !
⟢ lucien fucking your boobs and cumming all over them !
⟢ riding + nipple play !
ᯓ★ FEYRE ARCHERON
⟢ french kissing feyre !
⟢ getting your clit sucked and licked by her !
⟢ eating her out while fingering !
⟢ getting topped by touchy feyre !
⟢ teasing you through your panties !
⟢ feyre’s eyes rolling into the back of her head as you rub her g spot !
⟢ feyre using a paint brush to stroke your clit !
⟢ sitting in feyre’s lap and makin out !
⟢ tounge play with feyre !
ᯓ★ ELAIN ARCHERON
⟢ sharing a double ended dildo with her !
⟢ nipple play with her sweet girl !
⟢ distracted when baking a cake !
⟢ having an obsession with elain’s tits !
⟢ bouncing on elain’s strap !
⟢ sitting on top of her and making out !
⟢ morning kisses with elain !
⟢ scissoring session !
ᯓ★ NESTA ARCHERON
⟢ dom mommy nesta using a wand on you !
⟢ going dumb on her strap !
⟢ nesta puts her hand down your skirt !
⟢ creaming on her fingers !
⟢ getting your pussy licked by her !
⟢ “put it in my ass please” trying anal fingering with her !
⟢ riding nesta’s strap !
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incorrectacotarblog · 5 months
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Rhysand: who got an STD? I need you to fuck someone for me
Azriel: calling an STD hit is absolutely insane
Cassian: biological whorefare
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utterlyotterlyx · 20 days
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18 with Azriel because mans is taaaaall
Little Thing
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Summary - Azriel loves finding any reason to hold you, his height restricted mate, in his arms, and isn't ashamed to admit it.
Warnings - absolutely none really, slight swearing, just Az fluff x 1000
"I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
"I'm not that fucking short."
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The weight that occasionally pressed against the tips of his toes had become something he found endearing, because it meant that you were trying with all of your might to kiss him by using his feet as leverage to boost your own height.
Azriel was abnormally tall, his six foot seven to your five foot three was the source of copious amounts of teasing from your shared family, mostly from Cassian who always questioned aloud how Azriel fit inside of you, like it was all he thought about whenever he looked at the two of you.
"Would you like to watch since you're so intrigued about our sex life, Cass?"
"I, uh-," Cassian had stuttered that chill afternoon, the stars had blanketed across the sky, and you were stood in the centre of the lounge in your floor length skirt which only reached Azriel's knees, (he'd tried it on one day much to your delight); you were tapping your foot against the wooden floor, eyebrow arched and waiting for a real answer, "No."
Azriel had to give it to Cassian, and Rhys, and well anyone who questioned how Azriel, the brother with the largest wingspan, managed to fit inside of you. Cassian said often that his cock must rearrange your insides and he was surprised how you could walk around after your nights, mornings, and afternoons together, let alone go to work and live a normal life.
"Thought not. Shame, you could have learnt a thing or two for Nesta," Azriel chortled at your words and sent a wave of pride and adoration down the bond, a shower of affection that you lapped up.
"Ouch, y/n. That stung," Cassian fluttered his fingers over his heart and winced dramatically.
"Bite me," you flipped him off and headed back into the kitchen where the most incredible aromas floated from.
Once a month, you promised to cook a family dinner for them all, having negotiated your family away from the once a week they had begged for. It was as though they believed that you didn't have a life. The most decadent bakery in Velaris had your name plastered on the front of it in pale blue swirls, that was how you had met Azriel, after Feyre had dragged him into the store owned by the tiny fae female who made the best pastries she had ever tasted in her life.
The bond had snapped immediately for him when he saw you in your black apron dusted with flour, pink icing and white buttercream on your cheeks, hair strewn up but spilling over your forehead, boxing up a larger than you three tier cake without breaking a sweat.
The pastries you had made for him once you had decided to accept the bond, and the life that came with it, were almost as good as the passionate love he gave you that night.
Azriel loved everything about you, from the larger than life ferocity and sass you carried in your tiny body, to your equally ferocious loving heart; you were independent, talented, sweet, and kind, a ray of sunshine in his otherwise shadowed reality.
Though, there were two things that Azriel loved more than anything. The first was being able to find any excuse to lift you up in his hands, whether that be to help you reach the top shelf or fuck you against a wall; he wouldn't admit it easily, but he did purposefully hide things out of reach from you so that he had a reason to hold you in his large hands. The second thing he adored was how you would stand on his feet, on your tiptoes, to capture his lips on yours. It was such a sickly sweet part of you, but one that he wouldn't change for anything.
Hearing you strain, Azriel furrowed his brow, imagining you struggling to reach the second shelf of the cupboard in a home where furniture had been made for three huge Illyrians, not a tiny fae baker. Rounding the corner, he smirked at your form, he smirked at the way your skirt was hitched around your thighs as you clambered onto a nearby chair to hop onto the countertop.
Azriel sauntered over to you, laying his large hands on your hips and pressing his lips to the small of your back, grinning against your skin when you shuddered at the contact, "Need any help?" Azriel had moved the stool away from the edge of the counter, placing himself where it used to be.
Turning in his hands, you looked down on him with a wide smile, "No, I got it," you presented the bag of sugar to him and he took it from your fingers, placing it down for you, "Is this what it's like to be you? I can see so much up here."
Azriel chuckled, resting his chin on your stomach and peering up at you through his long lashes that always made you curse his Illyrian genes, "I guess so," he shrugged, locking his arms around your hips, enjoying the moment you had taken to run your fingernails over his scalp which drew a whine from his lips.
Taking his face in your hands, you leaned down and placed your lips to his, a tender embrace, one full of love and the faint taste of your vanilla lip balm that gave your lips the most incredible glossy finish, "How does it feel to kiss someone taller than you?"
Grinning, Azriel prodded, "Amazing actually. I've been breaking my back to kiss you."
You gasped, swatting his shoulder with the towel you had tucked into the back of your skirt, "I'm not that fucking short!"
His laugh boomed throughout the kitchen as you fiddled with the ends of your hair, "Okay, maybe I am just a little bit. Cassian's right, how do we have sex?" Azriel continued to laugh at your mumbling as he lifted you from the counter, placing you back on to the ground which felt so far away from where you were stood moments before.
Your mate bent down to peck your pouting bottom lip, pulling you into his body and stroking his fingers through your hair, "Who are we to question science? It works, that's good enough for me."
"It's definitely good enough for me."
"Oh I know. You told me as much last night - ow!" Azriel hissed as you dug your heel into his foot, frowning, he asked, "What was that for?"
Your cheeks flushed pink and you bashfully whispered, "I don't need Cassian to know what I tell you when we're doing that."
"You said it first."
"And?" There it was, the sass, the popped hip and arched brow, "Now move, I need to finish cooking and you're blocking my view."
Azriel smirked, "Oh my beautiful little thing, but I am the view."
A giggle floated through your lips, his favourite sound apart from when you were moaning his name beneath him, "You're lucky I love you," you fell into his open arms and pressed your lips to his clothed chest, to the exact place where your lips always met when you stood before him.
"I wouldn't change anything about you, you know that right?"
Humming in agreement, your hands wrapped around his back, "I know, Az," you pulled away, craning your neck toward the ceiling to look at him, "I'd change one thing about you though," his face dropped, "That you'd stop purposefully hiding things on the top shelf."
Azriel took a step back, "You know?!"
Scoffing, you turned, focusing back to the slowly simmering melting chocolate on the stove top, "Of course I know. I'm small, not dumb."
Azriel's warmth swarmed you, his huge arms nestled over your chest, and he rested his head atop your own, "All I can do is do it a little less. You know I like man-handling you. It makes me feel strong."
"Big Illyrian baby."
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Authors Note
Just a little drabble on a Wednesday evening x
1K notes · View notes
stxrvel · 3 months
Text
the cliff (1)
hi guys! this is the first azriel fic i post here. i mainly do marvel but i just couln't stop thinking about this so i decided to take it forward. i hope you guys like this! see u next time <;33
summary: you never thought that the road to your mate could bring so much suffering… pairing: azriel x f!reader words: +4k warnings: briefly descriptions of torture, bad words, descriptions of sorrow¿?, angst but a happy ending, i think. also, English is not my first language and i actually read acotar in another language, so sorry for any mistakes! and also!! i haven't read a court of silver flames, so probably the facts around cassian and nesta's bond and feyre's pregnancy aren't accurate, sorry for that!
part 2: the house
part 3: the court
part 4: the routine
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You were sure that the decisions you had made shouldn't have led you to that place. With your limp legs dragging against the grass, the wet feel of the mud drying coldly on your skin with each gale, increasing the chills that ran through your body, not only because of the dread and fear you had for your life, but because of the scorching frost on the top of that cliff.
There was something magical about wishing upon a shooting star. You knew it, your parents were living proof that it worked. They had met just after your mother had wished upon a dying star. Mates. And they promised you it would be the same for you. You hoped it would be the same for you when, encouraged by your same parents, you wandered Prythian in search of meeting the other end of the bond that you knew connected you to someone beyond, in search of a connection greater than you could ever understand.
You firmly believed in that magic one night, in the midst of the lonely and almost desolate journey from end to end, when lying watching the night sky you saw it pass by. A helpless shooting star.
You made your wish with your heart in your hand, closing your eyes and whispering as if it were a prayer. Maybe it was. You didn't know if that was what had gone wrong.
All you knew was that, the next day, your journey was over.
You hadn't finished waking up when you found yourself being dragged across the ground of the Day Court, right at the border it shared with the Night Court, from the hands of Ilyrian soldiers who wouldn't listen to your shouted words. Or simply preferred to ignore them.
You weren't sure how much you had screamed at them, even as they took you in the most savage way possible and furrowed you through the wind, the cold gusts of the Nightmare Court piercing your skin. But it had to have been a good while, because the next time you were above ground your throat was so dry you could barely breathe.
You didn't know what was going on, not even when days later, after feeding yourself with only mush and water, you met the first person willing to tell you something and not turn his face away from you. It was a man, Ilyrian too, with gigantic black wings that covered almost all the light in the small room where you were held captive. His constant presence invoked darkness.
He never introduced himself. He would only ask “who sent you?”, waiting for a sane answer from you, one that you couldn't give because every time you tried to say something that was not remotely like what he wanted to hear, he would move two fingers of his left hand and two more soldiers would enter the room and grab you roughly by the arms, pulling you closer to a barrel with water that was in the corner of the room. That was the water you usually drank, and it was never as cold as when they entered the room.
Needless to say, after a couple of days, you couldn't even go near the water anymore.
It could've been a couple of days, weeks or months… you weren't sure anymore. Time had become an insignificant concept compared to your desire for freedom. You had explained countless times to the Ilyrian the reasons why they had found you wandering near the Court, but that wasn't enough. Not even when you told him that they could confirm it with your family in the Summer Court. No excuse was good enough, the Ilyrian seemed to simply want to find a culprit, whatever he had to do, whoever he had to point the finger at.
And then, one day, you thought you saw a glimmer of hope. Another lone shooting star, which you barely caught through the bars the room had for windows. The memory of your parents flooded your memory, a dark cloud settling over you and drowning out any sense of calm you were able to collect after the ilyrians left. Through tears and sobs you begged the star for a way out, hoping its magic was powerful enough to fight the savage soldiers.
The next day more ilyrians than usual appeared, but they did not enter the room. Not after the High Lord of the Night Court did so first.
And you thought the star had heard you.
“She didn't say anything?”
His dismissive, indifferent tone almost made you shudder on the icy floor, but you didn't let that take away your hope, kneeling in front of him with dried tears and dirt on your face. With your hands clasped in front of you, as if he were a deity personified, you begged him to listen to you, but you had to watch him send you a disinterested glance before he turned in the direction of the entrance.
“Take her away.”
You didn't know why you had expected the high lord to intercede on your behalf, knowing the stories that brimmed through the Courts in Prythian. Your parents had warned you. They encouraged you to pursue the bond on your chest, but begged you to go no further than Court Day if the bond demanded it. They made you promise to return, and that they would then seek a way to find your mate if he or she was beyond the Night Court. You should've heeded, of course you did. When you saw the cold, emotionless eyes of the high lord's face, you regretted every decision you had made.
Even though you knew it shouldn't have been that way, because you had never done anything wrong. You had never tried to harm someone. Maybe that made it harder. Wondering every night why. Why did you deserve to go through that? What evil was it that you were paying for?
There was something magical about wishing on a shooting star, but that magic wasn't guarded for you.
-
Azriel had been spending sleepless nights for weeks now, without explanation. Things were quiet in Velaris, even in the Court of Nightmares. But when he entered the darkness of his room at night, when he tried to close his eyes with his wings spread across the bed, a knot stirred in his chest. Tears would well up behind his eyes and a sadness would engulf him from head to toe. It was so overwhelming that there were few nights when Azriel could contain the feelings and despair of his shadows.
He tried not to let that deficiency interrupt his work, but it was difficult when his eyes would close at the table during breakfast, or in the middle of the room when Rhys talked about the weekly goals. Several times his friends would start asking questions, but it was easy for Azriel to say he had trouble sleeping because that was never an uncommon occurrence over the course of his long life.
It was once Rhys told him that he had told Madja about his problem and she had sent him some herbs that it all started to get weirder.
Yes, Azriel was able to fall asleep. But every night he had strange dreams. Dreams of a life that was not his own. Memories of someone else he didn't even know. Another woman's life, somewhere Azriel could barely remember when he woke up, with more people who must have been close to her, but not to him, who shared her day to day life, who celebrated together with her, who were happy. Azriel didn't wake up much better in the mornings than when he spent the whole night without sleep.
Now he not only had to deal with the heaviness of lack of sleep, but with the questions. He could never think they were random dreams because he heard the same laughter every time, the same voice, the same place. He felt the same tranquility before waking up.
Azriel believed Madja would be his source of answers then.
“Your mate is looking for you,” the old woman answered him, one sunny day in Velaris when he chased her through her tent hoping she would answer his one question. That stopped him abruptly on his feet, his body from the abdomen upward leaning forward a bit from the suddenness of the movement.
“Mate?”
Madja barely hissed in response, a sound of affirmation that would haunt Azriel for several days afterward.
“How is that possible?”
“What?”
Madja was turning her back to him, her small body hunched over as she inspected the medicinal plants she kept for sale. Azriel watched them along with her, his mind moving through the threads of thoughts, between every memory of his dreams and every memory…of her.
“How can she do that?”
Azriel heard Madja sigh and the sound of metal followed as she dropped the gray watering can she had kept for years into place. Azriel could still remember the first time it had been seen, shiny and pompous in the Velaris sunlight. Madja's brown eyes roamed over his face and Azriel hadn't felt this way since the time when Rhys's mom had looked at him with loving motherly eyes.
“Don't ask me how the bond works, Shadowsinger. The Cauldron knows how it does things.”
Azriel could sleep less after that. Madja had left him with more questions than answers. And, on that note, Azriel began to fly over Velaris more often. For some reason, he felt she was close. The bond hadn't snapped into place yet, but he knew that the time was near when that would happen. He didn't even know if it had snapped for her yet, all he knew was that he had a mate over there, too far away from him, and too scared for him to stand idly by.
Eventually, Azriel had to talk to Rhysand. Rhys, his high lord, his best friend, his brother. Probably the only person in the Inner Circle who could fully understand how he felt at those moments. Because Azriel felt he was going to lose his mind if he didn't find his mate and end whatever suffering she was going through. The uncertainty was eating him alive and the hours of hopelessness and fear that were going on inside him, around that emptiness in his chest, did not ease things at all. If he felt this way from the comfort of his home, he didn't want to imagine what she was going through.
Rhysand agreed to allow him more outings to enlarge the perimeter of his search, but the passing days proved his effort fruitless.
“Everything okay, brother?”
Cassian had met his mate. Nesta, Feyre's sister. Azriel was very happy for him, very happy that his brothers had found their life mates and that he could realize the good they brought into their lives. But there was a huge shadow that haunted him, beyond the darkness he carried with him, and it had much to do with the guilt of not being able to find and deliver his mate from suffering. He no longer knew how much time had passed. His shadows stirred restlessly every day, with every memory, with every gale.
Azriel sighed when he felt Cassian's hand on his left shoulder, as they both stood watching Velaris from the top of a mountain.
“I don't know what to do anymore, Cassian,” Azriel let out, his shoulders slumping under the pressure and stress.
He usually didn't talk about the subject of his mate with his brothers, not as often as someone would think to be so close. It was something Azriel held close to his heart and wanted to resolve on his own, but so many failures were beginning to weigh him down.
Cassian patted his shoulder and then gave it a squeeze, trying to silently comfort him, though he knew that would do little to soothe the clamor in his soul. Because, though the bond hadn't snapped for Azriel, he could well believe that he had had it tugging at his chest in an unfamiliar direction for months now. Even if he didn't feel the bond, the mere acknowledgement of its existence was agony, especially when it didn't help him find his mate.
Cassian sighed beside him, letting a few seconds pass in silence before speaking again, his gaze fixed on Velaris' expanse and his heart shrinking at the visible suffering on his brother's face.
“Rhysand is traveling to the camp, will you accompany us?”
Azriel lately had little desire for anything other than touring Velaris and the surrounding area of the Court of Nightmares looking for his mate, but this time he decided to accept. For some reason, Azriel decided to accompany them.
The Night had been feuding with the Summer for a couple of years. Tarquin and Rhysand… were not on the best of terms. The last time Feyre had traveled to the Summer, pregnant with Nyx, Tarquin and his army had held her captive because of a misunderstanding in the information they had obtained from the Spring Court and the Mortal Lands. Rhysand almost destroyed the entire Summer Court with his bare hands if not for Cassian and Azriel, who were able to broker a deal between the two as mediators. It was a very tense time at the beginning.
Mind you, Rhysand did not leave without letting Tarquin know that it would be years before they would return to the same trade, diplomatic and friendly relations as before, if they could ever speak of forgiveness. Azriel remembered how the only person from the Night Court who could cross Tarquin's lands, for a time, was Mor. They were all warned and the meetings of the high lords were suspended, at least with respect to attendance.
For that reason, Rhysand became extremely wary of anyone connected with the Summer Court and for him, being the high lord, it was not too much work to know who wandered near his lands. They had already captured a handful of Summer Court spies in recent years and held them captive in camp with the Ilyrian soldiers.
Of course, the Night Court was much more careful with their spying, having Shadowsinger himself on their side. Azriel had visited the Summer Court a couple of times by stealth, handing Rhysand reports and any strategic breakthroughs he could decipher.
There was one, however, that they could not foresee. Someone Azriel never knew was coming out of the Summer Court. It had been a couple of years since then and it seemed the Ilyrians had been unable to break the spy's stone will.
“Are you going all the way to the mountain?” Rhysand had stopped in front of Azriel as soon as his feet touched the grassy ground, a few feet from the entrance to the camp. His eyes flicked briefly to the bustle behind his high lord, his shoulders tensing unconsciously as he took slow steps towards Rhysand with his hands in the pockets of his tunic and his wings tucked neatly behind his back. Cassian landed behind him, kicking up a layer of wet grass and mud that soiled his boots.
“Argh.”
“I think I'll be at a distance this time.”
Rhysand nodded, with no intention of convincing Azriel to accompany him to give the imprisoned spies of the Summer a death scare.
“I hope the screams are worth this mudslinging,” Cassian spoke up, moving closer to his two friends, forming a small circle. Rhysand barely gave him a glance before turning on his heels and beginning to make his way to the entrance of the camp, where some of the soldiers were clustered to see the high lord. “You're going to be in the bay?”
“Yes,” Azriel walked alongside Cassian, scowling at the entrance through which Rhysand had just crossed, the Ilyrian soldiers freezing in front of their high lord. “I'll watch from afar. Right now I don't have the stomach for anything.”
“I understand, brother,” Cassian squeezed his shoulder again amicably, sending him a tight-lipped look. Cassian was quite good with words, despite many labeling him as insensitive for being Ilyrian, but he knew Azriel well enough to know when he wanted to talk about something and when he preferred not to. “See you then.”
Cassian followed in Rhysand's footsteps, approaching in long strides, while Azriel paused watching his companions disappear into the distance.
Sighing, the knot in his chest tightened. It was so strange to have a void that could feel so many things. Azriel often wondered how it was possible that he still didn't feel the bond, when his emotions had expanded out of his head and there was no longer a feeling he didn't sense inside his bones.
Flapping his wings to take flight, Azriel set off towards the bay, close to the cliff where Rhysand planned to take the Summer Court spies. He was a few yards away, close enough to make out figures, but not too far away that he couldn't hear the screams.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, damp despite the early rising sun, his shadows began to stir around him, restless. They must've sensed his nervousness, the anxiety that ran through his chest like electric currents to his fingertips, causing him to spasm and break out in a cold sweat. Azriel could barely see them moving around him, separating from his body and stirring on the ground just a few centimeters before turning back.
At the top of the cliff he could already make out the figures of Rhysand and Cassian, walking menacingly towards the inmates, leaving them no choice but to keep walking backwards until they fell into the void, where Cassian would then land them, one by one. Azriel could hear them if he wanted to, but his mind and his shadows kept him a bit distracted.
He barely made out the first screams and the sound of Cassian's wings when his shadows began to whisper, much more restless.
Close.
Close.
Help.
Fear.
Help.
Azriel raised his head and his eyes stopped just short of Rhysand's figure in front of about three spies. At that moment, Azriel's shadows took off, moving at great speed across the grass and stones, with the Shadowsinger unable to do anything to stop them, though he tried. His confused gaze swept over the small figures on the cliff, with such speed that his head was beginning to ache, but he couldn't recognize anything.
He was about to fly in the direction his shadows had gone, when a strange, overwhelming sensation, somewhere between irrational fear and deep sadness, sent his back to the ground moving across his chest, as one of the figures slipped and fell into the void. Azriel felt all the air stolen from his lungs, opening his mouth to try to catch his breath, as those sensations coursed through his entire body and settled in his chest, taking strong root as if they belonged there. They were so overwhelming that they caused him physical pain. The ache he must've been feeling for months.
The bond.
The few remaining shadows beside him whispered endlessly.
Help.
Help.
Help.
Azriel raised his head, breathing hard. He felt his chest split open, as if with great force they were breaking his sternum to pull out his heart. It was such an overwhelming and painful sensation that, but for his strong will, he would surely have lost consciousness.
Help.
Help.
Mate.
Mate.
Azriel thought afterwards that he had never moved so fast or with such force as that moment, when he realized what was happening. The adrenaline that coursed through his body, even feeling electric currents run through him from head to toe from the precise moment he felt the bond, didn't allow him to think too much about how the air hurt his eyes because he already knew exactly where he had to go. He had spent so much time flying without direction, walking the wrong paths and searching in empty places. At that moment, when he had a reason and a direction, Azriel couldn't think of anything else. He didn't want to.
He could only look at the figure falling off the cliff from the moment he raised his head. He could only head blindly towards it. The overwhelming fear that threw him backwards was the fear she felt as under her feet she felt the void, her hands moving forward trying to hold on to something that would allow her to live.
Azriel felt like he was about to die with her.
He met Cassian halfway from afar, who seemed to be about to fly in her direction to catch her when he ran into his friend, but Azriel moved too quickly and with anticipation without losing sight of his mate. The chill that ran through his body could've paralyzed him with fear, but how could he stand by and do nothing when his mate was falling to her undisputed death.
He thought he heard Rhysand's scream. Surely it was so, but in his mind there hovered only the thought that he must reach her, he must get there in time. Her hands were outstretched and Azriel stretched out his hands, hoping that would help him move faster.
Mind blank, Azriel felt like he had just pulled his head out of the water, his chest opening in an unfamiliar thrill as his body felt the warmth of his mate's body crashing against him and his arms wrapped around her in a promise to never let go again. His wings wrapped around her immediately after his arms, impacting a few seconds later against the muddy ground.
He was too close to not catch her. The thought left him breathless.
For a moment, he only heard his and her labored breathing, with the whistling of the wind through the trees and the movement of the water of a stream a few feet away. For a moment, Azriel went completely blank. Whether he was there or dreaming, he didn't know.
His hands clamped tightly around her arms, encircling her entire back, feeling the reality of what had happened sink in on him bit by bit. Fear gripped him once more then, considering that there was a chance he hadn't been there to stop that. To prevent it.
He didn't want to move. Still adrenaline coursed through his body and he was so alert that he could clearly hear the voices of his friends in the distance. Seconds later, when he heard their wings, he finally moved.
Azriel met your eyes and with that look alone he knew you had felt the bond as well.
“I'm sorry,” was all Azriel could think of, his eyes crystallizing, voice breaking. “I'm so sorry.”
You were transfixed. Azriel felt you looking at him with fear and that motivated him to move away from your body, but you gripped his arms tightly to hold him in place.
Azriel felt a great heaviness in his chest as he examined your face and what he saw did not please him at all. Guilt swelled on his shoulders, a great weight that ascended with each passing second and he could hardly imagine all that you had had to go through in that camp. You were right under his nose and he couldn't find you. What kind of a partner was he to let all that happen?
When he heard the footsteps of his friends, his shoulders tensed. But it didn't go unnoticed the way you also became aware of their presence and let go of his arms, rushing to hug yourself as you moved to sit behind Azriel. scared. Still breathing rapidly, Azriel sent a warning look. Cassian and Rhysand stopped a short distance away, noticing the obvious hostility emanating from their friend's body, but Rhysand just stopped for a second.
“Azriel, what the fuck?”
Rhysand was so angry that he seemed to have a little red tinge over his face. Good, he was angry, maybe then Azriel wouldn't feel so bad about breaking his face.
“Rhys,” Cassian frowned, quickly picking up on the tense and hostile atmosphere around him. He grabbed the arm of his high lord, who jerked angrily and turned his gaze back to the Shadowsinger.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you aware of what you just fucking did?”
“Rhysand,” Cassian stopped his high lord, raising his voice and holding his arm tightly this time.
Rhysand turned to look at him with a frown and it seemed that, through his mind, Cassian spoke to him. The next time Rhysand looked back at him, his expression was unclenching, but Azriel stood stone-faced in front of you, his hands clasped at his sides and ready to face anything.
“No way,” was all Rhysand muttered, moving to run his hands through his hair.
Azriel felt one of your hands on his back, his senses splitting in half to try and attend to you as he kept an eye on his brothers on the other side. He moved his head to look at you, your frightened expression trying to hide you from Cassian's curious eyes.
“Is this real?”
Azriel felt his heart crumple. Tears welled behind his eyes and burning hurted the back of his throat. He wanted to say so many things, apologize for a million other things, but in that moment he only responded, moving to squeeze your hand:
“It's real.”
960 notes · View notes
ervotica · 3 months
Note
Inspired by the moment in ACOSF when it’s mentioned Cassian likes physical contact. A fic where reader and cassian are besties and hanging all touchy, maybe reader is braiding his hair and the mating bond snaps.
Kindly requested to be tagged if written/published.
𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞
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pairing; cassian x fem!reader
warnings; porn with plot, basically just smut tbh but smut with FEELS (the best kind), p in v, oral (f!receiving), cassian is a sexy bitch
word count; 2.4k
a/n; dooo we want a p2 (and to find out what reader has planned...) i'm planning one in my head so if you guys are interested please let me know! @bxm-1012 enjoy!
Cassian shows love through touch- whether that be an affectionate squeeze, a kiss on the forehead or a playful shove; it's how he expresses love for the people around him.
You often take the brunt of this, being his best friend. You walk the streets of Velaris arm in arm, squeeze into one armchair that really isn't built to hold even Cassian alone, but somehow manages to fit the both of you, fall asleep on top of each other in a heap of skewed limbs after hours of partying and drinking and dancing at Rita's. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.
You're really not sure how you didn't see it earlier.
You're lounging in the aforementioned armchair when the bond snaps. Your legs are thrown over the arm and Cassian is settled in the centre, head to your chest as you scratch and tug at his shoulder-length hair, pulling it up into a braid. He tilts his head up, grinning at you through the dark lashes framing his eyes, and the whole world shifts on its axis.
Something stirs to life inside of you, a warmth blooming and spreading and seeping into your every pore; you can feel the way you're tethered to him, the gravitational pull between you.
You go stock still and your lips part in a silent gasp. Cassian's grin grows tenfold.
"You knew?"
"I suspected," he murmurs. He twists his body to face you. "I hoped."
"Oh," you breathe. You can't help it when your hand comes up to trace his cheekbones, the tip of your thumb skimming the bridge of his nose. His eyes fall closed and the bastard tugs on the bond so hard it emits a squeal from you, and you're pressing a palm to the centre of your chest to soothe the entirely unfamiliar feeling.
His mouth opens to break the silence but you're already moving, careening into his chest and burrowing yourself in tight. Your body sags with pure, uninhibited relief.
"You feel the same, then?" he teases.
Your eyes are glassy when you peel your face far enough to meet his stare.
"I always thought I'd have to make peace with it when you found your mate. I'd have to settle for loving you from a distance and that would be enough. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." He softens at the admission- your voice rasping and raw as you lay your feelings bare for him- hooking an arm beneath your own to drag you up his chest until you're nose to nose. "But I guess I can be selfish now, and keep you to myself," you whisper.
"Mm," he purrs, and the sound turns your core molten. "I like the sound of that."
He doesn't waste any more time before his mouth is on yours, lips slanting hungrily over your own; you part your lips in submission, granting him access to lick into your mouth, his tongue tangling with your own. He rises to tower over you until you're flattened against the curve of the chair, and plants his hands either side of your head to cage you in. His wings flare where they'd been previously tucked against his back. Your body goes involuntarily soft and pliable, heat prickling under your skin at his every touch. Instinct takes over- it's as if it's muscle memory. Giving yourself to him is as easy as breathing.
Your head swims at the feel of his body under your roaming hands, his scent that seems to shift from affection to something deeply primal and dominating. You urge him closer with a whine and a pathetic tug at his t-shirt. How has this man reduced you to a mess with no more than a kiss?
"Cass-" you gasp when his head turns and his mouth latches onto the sensitive spot beneath your ear; teeth sink into flesh and you have to bite your lip to conceal a wanton moan. "We-we should go somewhere... more private."
"Oh, don't stop on our account," comes Rhysand's amused drawl through the closed door. "We're vacating the premises as we speak."
A growl rips through Cassian and searing, unyielding need barrels to your core and pools there; it takes every ounce of willpower to not rut your hips against him and demand his clothes off that very instant.
"Sorry!" you squeak; as quickly as the word leaves your mouth, Cassian's smothering it with another eager kiss. You lose any semblance of control you were clinging to, a moan dragging its way from your chest and into his waiting mouth. A string of saliva stretches and bows between you when he lifts his head to look at your face.
"My mate," he purrs. "My beautiful mate."
Your eyes cloud when you gaze at him through half-lids, reaching down to grab the thick length of him and squeeze. His hips grind into your palm, something deep and almost terrifying loosing from the depths of his chest. It only serves to make your cunt drool.
"Wicked thing," he gasps. "Spiteful female."
You grin, wide and unabashed, before your hands grapple for purchase to tear at his clothes until his toned abdomen is revealed to you; you want to lick every inch of him.
"Desperate little creature, aren’t you?" he teases.
"Shut up!"
His eyes roll when you at last wrench his pants and underwear down his thick thighs, freeing his cock, hard and weeping and begging for your touch.
"Who’s desperate now?" Your brow quirks.
He echoes your sentiments, cadence deep and gravelly with lust. "Shut up."
Your snarking comments seem to loosen the tether he’s kept on his desire to hold you down and have his way with you, and you gasp when thick, calloused fingers curl their way around your windpipe; his fingertips are bruising against your jaw, tipping your head back to bare your soft throat for him. You go boneless in his grasp, eager to take whatever he gives you at whatever pace.
"So you do know how to behave," he muses, free hand coming between your bodies to paw at your clothes until they come away in ribbons, torn from your form and leaving you bare before him.
The first inch of him inside of you is a delicious stretch; your cunt parts and flares to make room for him. He pauses, and when he finds nothing but pure, unadulterated lust in your blown out pupils, he gives you the rest.
Slowly, agonisingly, he drags it out; moaning praises fill your ears as he grants you inch after inch of him until he's seated firmly to the hilt. His fingers are bound to leave bruises where they're curled around your waist.
You whine, fingernails digging cruelly into his sides. He’s so deep you’re sure you can feel him in your throat.
"Cassian."
"Fuck, sweet girl," he hisses. "Usually I’d take my time with you, work you up first until you’re crying. But I need you right now."
The breath is punched from your lungs as he sets a punishing pace; your spine curves and moulds to the arm of the chair when Cassian’s hands venture lower to cup the swells of your breasts. You feel his cock kick up inside of you when he catches sight of your pert nipples, hardening into buds at the exposure of the cool air and the feel of his hands brushing the sensitive beads.
"I’ll get my mouth on you later, baby."
You’d melt at the words if you weren’t already reduced to nothing more than mush from his dick alone. The thick girth of him splits you wide, nestling deep against spots you have yet to discover, pushing you further towards a precipice you’re almost terrified of— you’ve never experienced pleasure like this, to this degree. The insurmountable, unfathomable pressure builds until you’re coming with a scream, your body trembling around his own, cunt clamping down around him to suck him in further.
"There’s my girl," he coos, slowing inside of you to brush away the hair sticking to your slick face. "You’re perfect.”
You whine and cant your hips downward to rock yourself onto his cock, and the bellow that rips through him would have you flushing white-hot under any other circumstances; you’re too far gone to care, a shaking hand splaying against the ridges of his wing until he shudders under your touch. You moan at the sight.
"Now that’s just mean, baby."
You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, gaze flitting up to meet his own with a coy smile. He brushes a slow line with his knuckles against your cheekbone— a loving gesture that has your heart clenching as well as your pussy.
"I love you," he says. "I love you so much."
"I love you," you repeat his words as he smears a kiss between your pinched brows. His forehead presses to yours as his hips rut up into your own. Dewiness clings to every inch of your skin and your knuckles bleed of colour where you cling to Cassian.
He brings you to completion four more times before he reaches his own peak, and only when you're reduced to tears beneath him does he crawl the length of your body, lips grazing over the slick skin beneath him until he reaches your cunt once more.
"Cass-" you gasp; your voice comes out a broken, strangled jumble of noise and he grins wolfishly up at you before licking a broad, long stripe from your spasming hole to your clit. Your back arches and you're not sure whether it's towards or away from his touch, but he stops you short when his fingers curl around your ribcage to press you to the plush fabric of the armchair.
"Told you I'd get my mouth on you, didn't I?"
Everything is simultaneously too much and not enough, and you're torn between grinding down into his mouth and shying away. Pleasure licks white-hot up your spine and you writhe against his bruising hold on your hips when the stubble on his chin scratches against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It's red and angry, swollen from Cassian's undivided attention, and it has tears gathering at your waterline once more. Your eyes are glassy and half lidded and he reaches up to brush the tip of his thumb against your cheek, his head never coming up from between your thighs.
Your skin sheens under the soft lights of the living room, sweat beading across the crown of your skull and your temples; you whine and thrash beneath him until your muscles seize and go taut like a bowstring, and pleasure drags you under once again. You're screaming - comes the dazed realisation - and your chest heaves as Cassian works you through it, offering up sweet praises for your orgasm. He smiles as if he hasn't just given you the best sex of your life.
You're utterly limp, boneless in his firm hold when he lifts your body to cradle you to his naked chest. The bridge of his nose presses into the softness of your cheek, skin rubbing against skin where he nuzzles into you.
"That was fucking amazing," you breathe with a laugh. "We should do that again."
"Mm," he hums. "Don't tempt me."
You giggle, pressing your face closer to his; everything about him intoxicates you: his smell, the feel of him under your hands, the dominating rasp of his cadence.
"We have something else to do first."
"What?" he asks, visibly deflating when you push yourself up on wobbling legs; your knees almost give out instantly. You can feel his smirk forming, burning into your naked form.
"Don't. Say. Anything," you grit. Your fingers brush the carpet when you bend to grasp a slip of fabric, and you quirk a brow at your sheepish mate. "My clothes, Cass!"
"I'll get you some more. Anything you want," he immediately says, watching you through half-lidded eyes. The love swirling in his irises almost has you staggering.
"While I appreciate that..." You lean down to press your lips against his, only pulling back to rest your brow against his own. "That doesn't solve my problem right now."
He snorts. "I like you naked. Maybe you should never wear clothes again."
"I'm not sure anyone would approve of that but you." Your smile is devilish. "Maybe I could distract a few High Lords at the next meeting..."
His teeth bare, a low warning growl reverberating through your very bones. You laugh, light and airy, and Cassian's sure you're heaven sent even as you send red-hot fury roiling through his veins.
"I'm sorry," you trill. "That was mean." You snag his own t-shirt, still predominantly in one piece, and slip it over your head; it lays against your mid-thighs and the scent of him cloys in your nostrils. "C'mon." You beckon him up with an outstretched hand, wiggling your fingers until he stands and slips his fingers between your own. A smirk pulls at the corners of your mouth. "Um, darling?" A pointed gaze has him grinning in return, clasping his chest in faux disappointment.
"I thought you liked me naked!"
"Oh, I do," you muse. "I'd just like to not scar everybody else in this house for life."
"It'd hardly be an unpleasant sight-"
"Yes, but I'm sure everyone would prefer it if I didn't try to kill them for looking." Your smile oozes saccharine, and then you're nudging him towards where his underwear lays discarded on the carpet. He pulls the material up and over his thick thighs and then he's back by your side in an instant; you preen under his adoring touch, pushing into the hands that slip underneath your shirt to grope at your bare skin.
"C'mon," you repeat, begrudgingly denying yourself the pleasure of sinking into his arms for another round of slow sex. "We need to do this first." You press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Mate."
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danikamariewrites · 4 months
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Could you do ACOTAR men x reader headcanons where how they would react/ respond to reader shoving her cold hands up their shirts?
My hands and feet are always cold so I always have my hands in my pockets or in between my thighs. And I always have some hot hands packs in my jacket during the colder months.
As I am typing this, I’m waiting for my socks to finish warming up in the dryer so my feet are warm 😀
Always so Cold
ACOTAR Men x reader
A/n: I’m always cold too anon and this weather is killing me bc of my Raynaud’s. I hope your socks are nice and toasty babes 🥰
Also @redbleedingrose did one like this a while ago and I reread it all the time it's so good (along with literally everything else she writes) you can read it here
Warnings: none
Rhysand
He would be working when you come into his office and you’d innocently start rubbing his shoulders
Your hands go lower and lower until you shove your frozen fingers down his shirt
Rhys let out a small scream, “Why are your hands always freezing!?” You let out a giggle as you rub them against his chest trying to soak up his warmth
He pulls your hands out from his shirt, leading you to sit on his lap
Your shivering at this point from the loss of heat which does not go unnoticed by your mate
“My darling, you’re freezing come here.��� You sit on his lap as Rhys pulls you into his chest. “A little.”
Rhys scoffs lifting you up going to sit by the fire. “Warm yet my love?” You pretend to think for a moment before shaking your head. “Nope. I think we should go to bed and snuggle.” Rhys lets out a laugh kissing your forehead. “That sounds like a great idea darling.”
Cassian
Cass is just minding is business making a snack in the kitchen when you sneak up behind him
You plaster your hands on the back of his neck and he drops what’s in his hands letting out a shocked sound
Cassian pulled away and turned to look at your silly smile
“Why!? And why are you always so gods damned cold?” You let out a loud laugh and move to shove your hands up his shirt
You hug him and keep your hands against his warm skin. Cassian hugs you, rubbing your back to warm you up. “Why don’t we go snuggle on the couch, I’ll make hot cocoa too.”
You let out a hum, “that sounds perfect.” Cass shoos you away so he can make your drinks and snack
Azriel
Az would know when you're sneaking up on him thanks to his shadows
He lets you get close but at the last second Azriel spins around and grabs your wrists. You let out a squeal of surprise as your mate pulls you into his chest
"You will not get me with those icicles you call hands again." He says laughing with you as you try to break free from Az's grip
"But Azzy! I'm cold and need you to warm me up." You give him a fake pout while trying to hold back your laughter
Az lets out an exaggerated sigh, "Fine. I guess we should go upstairs and get you bundled up." "Can I have your hoodie that I love?" "Of course you can." He says placing a soft kiss on your head
Lucien
Lu is so unbothered by your cold hands so he always lets you grab at him
He just raises his body temp more making it so you're suuper warm
He hates that you get so cold. While you make jokes about it he is genuinely concered becuase no one should be that cold all the time
When you do come up to him Lucien insists you snuggle on the couch
You lay on top of him and Lucien wraps you up in a blanet, using his powers to become your personal heater
Usually you end up falling asleep perfectly toasty
Eris
Eris just lets you put your hands up his shirt and your hands wander all over his torso
He just looks down at you with a fake annoyed look
You smile at him knowing that he's worried about you and your cold hands
He carefully removes your hands bringing them up to his mouth leaving soft kisses across the back of your hands
"Here my love." Eris whispered, encasing your hands in his, warming them with his powers
You lean into Eris to absorb more warmth
The lordling kisses the crown of your head lightly whsipering sweet nothings
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mischiefmanagers · 2 months
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Cassian Fic Rec Library 🦇❤️
giving the Lord of Bloodshed some love with one hundred fic recs! these are Cassian x Reader and Cassian x OC fics in no particular order! enjoy ✨
🌼 personal favorite 🥀 angst 💞 fluff 🔥 smut
by @bloodycassian
Bow + Scrape 🥀
Hellish 🥀
MEDWITCH 🥀💞
by @ughthatimagineblog
blush 💞
i broke my promise 🥀
by @sarawritestories
You Are Not a Burden 🥀💞
Unwavering Presence 💞🌼
by @thebadgerclan
Sandwich 💞
by @prythianpages
Stuck On You 💞🥀🔥🌼
Lay All Your Love On Me🔥
by @thehighladywrites
That's your mother, but she's my wife first... 💞🥀🔥
The Airhead Chronicles 💞🔥🌼
by @acourtofwhatthefuck
Crawling Back to You (series) 💞🥀🔥🌼
injury angst 🥀
Someone Different, Someone New 🥀
by @acourtofmarvels
Patience 💞
by @sarcasmsweetie
For All of Our Days 💞
by @jswizzlewrites
I'd say yes to anything for you 💞
Was any of it real? 🥀
I can't be the person for you 🥀
Secrets 💞
by @cherhys
Northern Lights 💞
by @arrantsnowdrop
Ouch 💞
by @coffeepancakes42
Obsessed 💞
by @leafsandstarlight
A Second Shadow 💞
How Kindness Lingers 💞🌼
Never Considered 💞🌼
Halley's Comet 🥀💞🔥🌼
by @tadpolesonalgae
Lie to Me 🔥
by @isa-beenme
Kiss the Girl 💞
by @danikamariewrites
Do You Still Love Me? 🥀💞
Flinch 🥀💞🌼
Lay On Me 💞🔥
Protector 🥀💞
Punches 🥀
by @parkerslatte
One Step Back, Three Steps Forward 🥀💞
by @minicoffee00
I don't ask for much 🥀
by @shadowdaddies
Karma 🥀💞
It's Never Over 💞
Protect Our Family💞
Stay Together 🥀
Aella 💞
by @sapchat
The Lord's Daughter 🥀💞
by @solbaby7
Burn Baby Burn 🥀
Killing Me Softly 🥀
by @thevanserrras
Heaven 💞
by @writingforrhys
smaller than this 🥀
by @hellcat8908
I've Got You 🥀
by @daycourtofficial
Hickeys and The Marks We Leave 🥀
A Teeny, Tiny Illyrian Warrior 💞
by @sugairsstuff
who did this to you. 💞
by @hellodarling1357
I Can See You 💞
Battle Wounds 🥀💞
Friend and Foe 💞
Battlefield Confessions 💞
Flames and Embers
Tiny Toes 💞🌼
Inked 💞
Touched by an Angel 💞
by @illyrianbitch
And I'm Thinking About Your Lips 🔥
by @azsazz
Tonight I'm So Lonely 🥀
Break Up in a Small Town 🥀
Change Your Ticket 🥀💞🔥🌼
by @heloisedaphnebrightmore
lack of observation skills 💞
by @azrielsdove
Rejected 🥀💞🌼
Never Enough 🥀💞
Old God 🥀💞
Safe🥀
by @illyrian-dreamer
With benefits🔥
by @itsphoenix0724
Pink Azalea 🥀
by @azrielslightintheshadows
Wings. 💞
Forever. 🥀
Finally. 🥀💞
Overprotective daddy. 💞
Survival. 🥀💞
Always. 🥀
Forgotten. 🥀💞
Live without you 🥀
by @xreaderbooks
Miscommunication 🥀💞
by @violet-shadows
I'd do anything for you 💞
I'm supposed to protect you 🥀💞
by @draemgal
making the bed 🥀💞
by @readychilledwine
Gentle 💞
Daddy's Girl 💞
To Have and to Hold 💞🌼
So Small 🥀
Surrender 🥀
Hot for Teacher 💞🌼
Heavy 🥀💞
by @leahkenobi
need him 🥀
by @thelov3lybookworm
Mere coincidence?
Scones 💞
by @lidiasloca
delicately 🥀
during the bad days 💞
by @throneofsapphics
obsession 💞
by @tsunami-of-tears
Sunny 💞
by @jeannineee
Sleepless 💞
Lessons
Together🥀
by @clairebear08
Broken Vase🔥
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Snowy morning
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requested: so @lillithathecat left a comment saying that she wanted a little something something with Cassy on the snowy day so here we go.
a/n Also, be gentle with me I've never written for this man before.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"I refuse to leave this sanctuary," you laugh a little at your sleepy mate, who's inching ever closer to you under the covers. Still more than sleepy and not ready to face the day ahead. Cassian was big on morning cuddles. At the beginning of your relationship, he pretended that he hated things like this. After all, he was a manly man. Yet, it didn't take much work from your side to convince him that being a little marshmallow was way more fun. Now he craved your touch more than he craved food, and that in itself was a big statement to make. If he had the morning off or his day was due to start an hour later, you could find him in bed without needing to look anywhere else.
"It's chilly this morning", your fingers were tangled in between Cassian's messy morning hair as he hummed with every tiny pull and scratch to his scalp that you made. The winter was slowly approaching Velaris. And although it hadn't snowed yet, last night, on your way home from the pub, you could swear you saw a tiny little snowflake. Cassian, of course, made fun of you when you started squealing in excitement. But you craved that icy feeling, that cold that would pick at your nose, and most importantly, the snow that would crunch beneath your feet. "Perhaps it finally snowed," you muttered to yourself as your gaze fell onto the window, which was unfortunately blocked by blinds. Not letting you peek outside. "Should I put on a fire?", you barely managed to make out what your mate was saying as his face was long gone in the crook of your neck. "That would require you to leave the sanctuary," you teased him back playfully, and his arms instantly tightened around your torso.
"Yeah, take that back. Might die if I unwrap my arms from around you", one of his hands blindly searched for your hand and once he gets a hold of it, Cassian brings it back to his hair and you can't help but laugh a little once again, "Such a drama queen". You continue to massage his scalp. His warmth and the extra layer of heat that his wing's provided keep you nice and toasty without the offered fire. "I'm sorry that I love my mate so much", you roll your eyes s little. Gods, it was true—Illyrians were nothing but babies if you found just the right spot to scratch.
"But do you think it had snowed?", you ask again, this time much more loudly, "You're not going to drop this until I open a window, are you?". You bite your lip quickly, trying to control your smile. Of course, he knows you. He knows you the best. And he knows your obsession with snow. Cassian had asked you about it more than once, but you never were able to pinpoint why you loved it so much. You had a feeling that it was because it made you feel calm. You have to admit that there was something about watching the snow fall. The ground being covered by a thick white blanket.
Cassian shifted, carefully pulling the blanket off himself but making sure that your body wasn't exposed to the chilly room. "Don't get your hopes up because I can't have you crying for the rest of the day. I can't control the weather", you hit his chest lightly and he only huffs before climbing out of the bed lazily making his way to the two huge windows in your house that overlook a tiny rocky forest. The moment the blinds are moved to the side, you let out a gasp. Practice jumping out of bed as your hands move to rest over the glass. Big eyes taking in the view in front of you. It indeed snowed last night. And quite a decent amount. The grey ground was now a pure white cloud, the trees were all frosty as well, and what was even better was that it was still snowing. Big, chunky snowflakes that looked like cotton balls fell gracefully to the ground.
You felt your mate's hands sneaking over your lower abdomen as he brought you closer to him. Resting his chin on top of your head. "It snowed," you whisper-scream, looking up at him, and this time the general is full of fits of laughter. You're like a kid in a candy store. And if you were let to run free you probably would be out of the house face first in the snow, "I can see that you little snow-obsessed freak", you poke your finger at his abs angrily. Or as angry as you could pretend to be. "Thought we don't judge in this house. I came to terms with the fact that you dunk your cheese in tomato sauce", Cassian lets out an overly dramatic gasp, "Now you are offending me. That's a culinary masterpiece." "Yeah, right. Hate to break it to you but everyone's been lying to your face", and in a blink of an eye, you are being thrown over Cassian's shoulder with a tiny shriek from you. 
"Hey, I was watching the snow," you pouted, kicking your legs childishly. Cassian moved to bite the side of your thigh playfully, and you squealed once again. "Cassian," "You can do it from the bed while giving me love," he says, "You don't deserve it for offending my love for snow," Cassian carefully throws you down onto the bed before moving to light the fireplace.
"Do you remember our first winter together?", Cassian says while waiting for the fire to pick up before closing the glass door. You let out a giggle, covering your face, "You mean when you brought me to meet your family for the first time and I slipped down the hill on my bum?" It was so embarrassing that you had a little cry in their guest bathroom with Cassian sitting on the floor in front of you, reassuring you that it was fine and that no one cared. The most important part was that you hadn't hurt yourself badly. "You arrived quite literally", you tossed one of the spare pillows at him. He caught it with ease like that's what he does on a daily basis, before tossing it straight back at you.
Your gaze fell back onto the window, "You know what?", you ask and Cassian hums as he pulls out one of his sweaters, knowing how cold you get, and some socks for your always freezing toes. "Maybe I should have picked Azriel; he loves snow and has one of all the annual snowball fights." With that, Cassian is right on top of you, narrow eyes piercing through you. "Take that back right now," he says, you break into a grin, shaking your head quickly. "Take it back, baby girl, because you will not have the capability in your legs to go jumpy jumps in the snow when I'm done with you", Cassian takes both of your hands into his hold, pinning them above your head. A breath hitches in the back of your throat. You lift your head, reaching for his lips, but Cassian pulls his head back. "Uh ah, it doesn't work like that," he says. "Fine, you are the greatest, sweetest, strongest warrior ever, and I, oh, nearly faint every time I see you," you cry out in a soft, playful voice, and Cassian crooks his head to the side, watching you.
"You need to work on your acting skills, dove", "Ah, you're casting people for your play? What is it called? I've never won a snowball fight before?" Cassian gasps, both of his hands going under the shirt that you're wearing as he tickles your sides, kissing all over your face as well. Making you squirm beneath him, laughing almost hysterically. "Please stop, ahh," you whine, trying to turn your face to the side at least to escape his sloppy kisses, but there's no way out. "You are feisty this morning, take it back woman", his fingers dig into your side once more making you laugh even louder, "And mean it", you continue to squirm, hands gripping his biceps. 
"Fine, sorry, I will piss the bed if you continue," you cry out. Cassian's fingers slowly inch toward your face, squishing your cheeks slightly, and you're still laughing. The general shakes his head, almost in disbelief. "Gods, end me. How are you always so perfect?", he asks, golden eyes watching you. You shrug your shoulders before putting your finger on his nose, "I could ask you the same thing, you bulky sex god from another planet." Cassian snorts at your words falling onto your chest, careful to not crush you with his weight as you wrap your legs around his torso, hands once again combing through his luscious black hair.
"You are like a drug, and please forgive me, Mother, but I am addicted," your mate mutters quietly, leaving a couple of kisses on your exposed collarbones. "I love you too, teddy bear," you lean in, kissing his temple. You two just laid there together. The sound of the cracking fire creates a cozy ambiance. Your eyes drift back to the snowy day outside. "So, are we going out to build a snowstorm?", "Woman, I swear, lay down and don't move."
••••
All acotar writing: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan
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prythianpages · 3 months
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Lay All Your Love On Me | Cassian x Reader
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summary: Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends don’t get jealous. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. But you did.
warnings: mild angst; smut at the end; basically, mutual jealousy
a/n: this was inspired by ABBA's song. I'm working on a series where I dedicate a song to each of the ACOTAR men and you can find the masterlist here. I feel like this is borderline crack at some points tbh and probably the longest one shot I've ever written. Also, the amount of times I've rewritten this is insane so I hope you like this final version ❤
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Adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind becomes your companion, offering a resistance that you always find yourself craving. It caresses your skin, leaving a bittersweet ache. Running is the closest feeling to flying. Though your wings, tucked behind you, remain, they are rendered useless and forever will be. Those sick Illyrian males, paid off by your own brother, made sure of that.
Sometimes, you wish they would’ve just sloughed them off. An Illyrian with no wings is a tragedy but an Illyrian with useless wings is a devastating tragedy. A fate that, unfortunately, all Illyrian females have to endure.
Heated frustration surges within you, spurred on by the luminous blue hues radiating from the siphons encircling your wrists. You shake your head and take deep breaths because you can not let those triggering thoughts win. You can’t let them win. The primal thud of your heart urges you to push forward and–
“Fuck, marry, kill.”
“Cassian,” you nearly hiss, though the flutter in your chest betrays you. 
“Come on,” he says, a grin playing on his lips as he matches your pace. “Me, Az, and Rhys. Go!”
You slow down your pace to shoot him a sidelong glance and pivot, turning to run the opposite direction. Heat rises to your cheeks. You blame it on your exercise. 
“We played this last night.”
Undeterred, Cassian picks up his pace to stay ahead of you, running backwards with ease. “And you didn’t answer me.”
As you both rounded a corner, someone bumped into you. Your steps faltered slightly before you caught your own balance. 
“Oops. Sorry, didn’t–”
The Illyrian male who collided with you didn’t even have time to finish his apology, as insincere as it was. Cassian shoved him, sending the male plummeting to the ground with a growl. You swear you hear him choke on dirt.
“Watch it, asshole.”
When Cassian turns back to you, you arch a brow at him and he gives you a nonchalant shrug. You both know that male intentionally bumped into you. As one of the few Illyrian females who has defied tradition and trained extensively, the disrespect constantly thrown at you is no surprise. Though you’re no longer fazed by it, you can’t say the same for Cassian.
His gaze softens and grin returns, the wind tousling his dark hair as he maintains his backward stride. “Now, where were we?”
“Fine,” you say with a huff.
It’s not in Cassian’s nature to give up. You’ve played this game multiple times, introduced by Mor, with the inner circle on drunken nights. You were always quick with your answers but not this time. Not when your options were three of your close friends and among them, there was one you secretly or maybe not so secretly harbored feelings for.  That and the lack of liquid courage you usually have at your side when playing.
“Fuck Azriel.”
Cassian’s steps come to a stop and so do yours, albeit reluctantly. There’s a glint in his hazel eyes as he looks at you. “I’m going to tell him.”
“Go ahead,” you reply because you don’t care if the Shadowsingers knows. He’s the safest choice of them all and he wouldn’t let this stupid game get to his head unlike Cassian. “You know that’d be your answer too.”
Both you and Cassian share a look because you’re not wrong.
Then, you both are turning your heads to find the Shadowsinger. Azriel stands at the far end of the training grounds, engaged in the rhythmic lifting of weights. Shirtless. The distance between you two and him is vast, rendering any audible communication impossible. However, the subtle play of shadows around his ears catches your attention, and as if sensing your gazes, he turns, narrowing his eyes at both you and Cassian with an uncanny perceptiveness.
Caught red-handed, both you and Cassian turn your heads away. He looks at you again. “So,” he starts once more and you bite back the urge to groan. At this moment, you’re almost inclined to reveal that you’d like to do all three to the Illyrian male in front of you.
 “Who will you be marrying? Me or Rhys?”
It’s as if he heard his name being called. Rhysand prods gently at the shields of your mind and when you allow him in, you know he relayed the same message to Cassian and Azriel. You both head over to the sparring grounds, where Azriel is already waiting for you. He throws a sword to you and then to Cassian.
Cassian wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively and you slap his arm. He pinches your side in retaliation, a reminder that you’re not going to live this one down. He moves into position and you mirror him.
He lifts his sword, feigning a lunge that you counter with a swift parry. Your movements are both graceful and calculated, a testament to the years of training under his guidance. Meanwhile, Azriel circles around you both, a silent spectator.
Cassian’s strikes intensify, growing more precise every time. Your swords clash, ringing in the air. But despite your skill, Cassian is stronger, more experienced. Seizing an opportune moment, he lunges with a force that sends you stumbling backward. Your sword clatters to the ground as you find yourself seated on the training grounds.
"Did I serve?" Cassian smirks, offering a mock salute, his muscles flexing in a playful display. "Or did I serve?"
He twirls his sword with a flourish, unaware of the glare you shoot his way. With a determined huff, you gather yourself, reaching for your fallen weapon and swiftly rising to your feet. In a strategic move, you deliver a swift kick, sweeping Cassian off his feet and onto his back.
With a triumphant grin, you step forward, placing a boot on his chest to keep him on the ground. You press your weight on him teasingly, knowing that Azriel is not the only one watching you two anymore. Hazel eyes sparkle back at you with a mixture of pride and a subtle undertone, a hint of something more lingering beneath the surface, as your sword hovers just above his neck. It brings forth an unspoken tension between you both and if you hadn’t blinked, you wouldn’t have missed the way Cassian licks his lips as he looks up at you.
"You got served."
Cassian laughs as you drop your sword and lift your boot. You don’t bother to offer him a hand, wanting to bask in your victory as much as possible but much to your dismay, Azriel helps him up.
Thank you for humbling him.
You turn around to see Rhysand. His lips purse, suppressing his amusement. His eyes become unreadable as he dons his High Lord mask. A palpable aura of immense power radiates from him. 
Beside him, stands another male, whose presence commands just as much attention as Rhysand. His skin is a rich brown and hair white. You’ve never met him before but you know who he is as Rhysand had informed you of his visit. It’s why you were conveniently training in Windhaven, despite your preference for the training grounds atop the House of Wind.
The three of you greet Rhysand first before bowing your heads in respect to the High Lord of the Summer Court.
“This is Cassian, general commander of my armies. This is y/n, one of our great Illyrian warriors and this is Azriel, my spymaster. They are all well equipped and are looking forward to working with your soldiers for the next two weeks.”
**
You’ve rarely traveled outside of the Night Court. You weren't a high fae like Mor or Rhysand so you couldn’t winnow and after the clipping of your wings, you couldn’t fly like Cassian or Azriel. So your friends were your main means of transportation and you were looking forward to working with High Lord Nostrus’s soldiers as it was a means for you to get to explore another one of Prythian’s lovely courts.
But now that you’re here, in their training grounds, you’re no longer looking forward to being here for the next two weeks.
Not when one particularly strikingly beautiful female soldier has set her eyes on Cassian and certainly not when there’s an unfamiliar burning resentment in your chest too strong to ignore. It flares every time her gaze or touch lingers too long. By the Cauldron, since when did every woman you see become a potential threat with Cassian? He is your friend.
A reminder that stings as much as the intensity of the burning feeling coursing through you. Though, you’ve never felt this way before, you realize that you’ve been more sensitive in anything Cassian these past couple of months–since starfall. It’s as if he casted a spell on you, one where you can only think about him. He’s your every waking thought and lingers as your final thought before sleep.
The feeling in your chest flares to a blazing fire when you overhear him praise the female soldier and the wooden sword splinters in your grasp, falling to the ground. 
This is going to be a long two weeks.
“Are you jealous?” Azriel muses beside you.
“Me?” You say with a huff, kicking the evidence of the broken sword away. Of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by Azriel, the skilled spymaster. The corner of his lips quirk up but you insist. “Jealous? Never.”
You send an amused Azriel a glare before picking up another practice sword. Determined to not let your jealousy get in the way, you engage yourself in training the small group assigned to you. You were here for a reason and you’d give the soldiers under your command your all.
**
After a full afternoon of training, you were eager to clean the dirt and sweat off your skin. You were also eager to distance yourself as much from Cassian and that female before you did something you’d regret. Your bath worked wonders to ease every tense muscle. If you hadn’t been invited by High Lord Nostrus to dinner, you would’ve basked in the warmth of the water a little longer. The sound of waves crashing soothes you as you make your way to your bed, ruffling your damp hair with a towel.
Nestled adjacent to Cassian's and Azriel's quarters, your room stands vast and breathtaking. It’s also missing an entire wall. In its place, vines adorned with blooming dahlias weave along the room's edges, seamlessly bridging the gap between the interior and the great sea outdoors. 
Your attention gravitates towards the bed, adorned in the softest silks, a sanctuary you can’t wait to sink into. Atop it rests a box, concealing an invitation to dinner and an outfit that differs greatly from your Illyrian leathers.
You find a dress. A pale blue masterpiece with a daring plunging neckline and high slits. You’ve never worn anything like it. The fabric is soft and weightless, its wispy texture feels like a gentle sea breeze caressing your skin with every step. You appreciate that it was backless to accommodate your wings.
Sitting down at the vanity, the jewelry that was in the box sparkles back up at you. You're touched by the High Lord’s gesture but you’re also wary of all his gifts. You settle on the most simplest of jewelry–diamond earrings and a sapphire necklace that reminds you of the siphons you wear. You have three in total but the one wrapped around your wrist is the only one you keep with you at all times. You save the other two for when you’re training or fighting to help you control your power.
As you step out of your room, Cassian and Azriel's eyes are drawn to you. You smile at them in greeting. Cassian's gaze lingers, a silent appreciation etched in every curve and contour he not so discreetly takes in. Warmth prickles at your skin, and an inexplicable spark ignites within your chest in response.
Azriel clears his throat, amused eyes dancing between you two. “Shall we?”
Cassian, as if emerging from a trance, regains his composure and grins at you. He extends his arm and you gratefully hook yours through his as he leads the way down the hall. You notice that he also switched his leathers into something more befitting the Summer court’s warmth. He wears dark navy linen pants that match Azriel’s but unlike the dark shirt the Shadowsinger wears, he chose a lighter colored one. The fabric is nearly see through, offering a teasing peek at the tattoos embellishing his chest and the defined muscles that lie beneath.
You feel his gaze on you as you walk beside him that prompts you to look up at him in question. He takes a moment to respond and finally with a sheepish smile says, “you smell nice.”
“Oh, thanks. I used coconut soap that was left in my bathroom,” you respond, a tinge of confusion and subtle disappointment coloring your words. At least it was an actual compliment unlike last starfall when all he said was “you look different.” Yet, it embarrassingly still had the same effect, leaving you blushing. 
Azriel, walking behind you, can't help but let out a snort. Idiots, he thinks to himself. His shadows agree.
**
There’s a wide assortment of delicious food laid out for you all. Your lips quirk up when you catch the way Cassian’s eyes light up at the sight. You take the seat next to him and Azriel the seat across from you. High Lord Nostrus sits at the head of the table, gesturing for you all to dive in. With a snap of his fingers, the golden chalices in front of you fill with a sweet wine.
“I appreciate you all for your efforts in helping strengthen my armies.”
Cassian’s mouth was full of food and Azriel brought his drink to his lips, not keen on the idea of making small talk with the High Lord. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes at your male companions, you muster a smile and turn to Nostrus instead.
“I believe we should be the ones thanking you for being such a gracious host. As emissaries of our esteemed High Lord, it is our sincere desire that our efforts not only strengthen your armies but also fortify the bonds of alliance between the courts of Summer and Night.”
“Of course.” Nostrus's turquoise eyes study you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze settling on your wings. The instinct to protectively tuck them in tighter behind you flares, a vulnerable self-consciousness settling in. "From my understanding, it is not common for an Illyrian female to train and fight. Am I right?"
“Yes, you are correct. But I am working closely with my High Lord to rectify that.”
Cassian, sensing your unease, swallows his food, and a reassuring hand finds its place on your thigh, offering a comforting squeeze. You're familiar with Cassian's expressive and caring nature through touch. However, his simple and sweet gestures, such as the way he’s touching your thigh right now, sends your heart racing instead.
"I watched you from afar this afternoon. You took down some of my best soldiers with ease," Nostrus remarks, and a gentle breeze from the nearby sea courses through the open dining room, sending a shudder through your wings. His perceptive eyes catch the movement. "Your wings are different."
The hand on your thigh tightens, mirroring the constriction in your throat.
"High Lord–" Cassian begins, a subtle warning threaded through his otherwise light tone.
Nostrus raises his hand. "I mean no harm. Truly." 
His gaze remains fixed on you as he continues, "As you see, we pride ourselves on every soldier, regardless of gender. Anyone who swears loyalty to this court is held in great esteem. I protect them as much as they would protect my court. While I do not know your story, I now know your worth, and if the Night Court is not able to appreciate you, then–"
"The Night Court appreciates her just fine," Cassian interrupts, a protective edge slicing through his words. He hates Nostrus’s accusatory tone and ignores the warning look Azriel sends his way.
You place a hand over Cassian’s but keep your eyes on Nostrus. “You flatter me, High Lord,” you manage to say with a smile. “Though my scars may say otherwise, I can assure you that my High Lord treats me well. In fact, High Lord Rhysand is working on banning the practice of clipping wings so our future generations will not know the horrors enacted under previous rulers…”
**
Your wings, draped behind you, bear the burden of your trauma–the betrayal of your brother. You hate how sensitive you are at the mere mention of them. You wipe hastily at your eyes. Cassian, who refused to part ways with you at your door, stands silently beside you. Your haunting memories store themselves back into the depths of your mind as his movements catch your attention. It’s strange but comforting, the way he always knows when you don’t want to talk and are in need of a distraction instead.
But your cheeks heat up because you’re unsure if this distraction is a good idea. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Cassian grins at you as he continues stripping himself of his clothes. “I’m going for a swim.”
He winks at you as he kicks his pants off, leaving him in only his boxer briefs that are clinging to him in a way that makes your mouth nearly water. You pull your gaze away, hating the way your mind wants to drift to devious thoughts because you know what lies underneath. You’ve seen him in his full glory far too many times than you’d like to admit–each one of them on accident.
Your heart flutters madly against the fragile cage of your chest and you press a hand against it as if that would do anything to ease your racing heart. Because Cassian is your best friend and best friend’s don’t thirst after one another. Best friends also don’t fall in love with one another. 
But you did.
He was your mentor before he became your friend and each passing year since then seemed to usher in a quiet surrender. Almost as if every step was an unspoken agreement with your heart, blurring in between the fine line of friendship and something else. You navigated the staircase of emotions, unaware, until you stood near the bottom. Instead of gracefully reaching the last step, the sudden realization of your feelings felt like a forceful tumble, leaving you to hit the ground and boy did you hit it hard.
The sound of a joyful splash resonates through the air, harmonizing with the playful melody of droplets that dance against your bare legs. You shoot a glare Cassian’s way, even though you didn’t mind, and you can’t bring yourself to care when he flicks a middle finger at you in response. You’re far too used to them to be bothered. Realizing that the water felt nice and warm, you nestle yourself on the edge of the floor. You hike your dress up and then dip your legs into the soothing waters.
Bathed in the ethereal glow of moonlight, Cassian floats on his back, allowing his wings to carry him through the soft waves. Your gaze lingers on him, tracing the moonlit contours of his muscles. Another splash pulls you out of your trance and this time, the droplets reach the thin fabric of your dress.
“Come on, bibble!” Cassian exclaims.
Your glare returns, irritation flickering in your eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that!”
His grin widens, undeterred. “Won’t you join me?”
You respond with a swift kick, creating a splash that dances towards him. Regret settles in immediately as his eyes light up in the moonlight, holding mischief, as he swims toward you.
“Bibble’,” he nearly purrs, somehow making the stupid nickname sound downright sinful. He braces his hands on either side of you, the muscles of his arms flexing. His chest brushes against your legs and all you can think about is how nice he feels so close to you. “Why won’t you join me?”
You’re looking anywhere but him. “I don’t feel like it.”
Cassian hums, his thoughtful gaze lingering for a moment longer than you'd expect. You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding when he turns his head. It’s a short lived moment of relief because in a heartbeat, he pulls your legs from underneath you and drags you into the water with him. You’re splashing and writhing and like an idiot, your mouth opens in panic.
Cassian's strong arms swiftly encircle you, pulling you up from the water's depths. As you resurface, you're coughing and sputtering, water droplets cascading down your face. He chuckles while you hit his chest. 
"I can't swim, you idiot!" 
"Relax," Cassian laughs, his hands holding your hips firmly to keep you afloat with him. His expression, though soft, morphs into something more serious. "I’ve got you. I always will.”
His words unrattle something deep within you and you can’t move, can’t think properly. You can only feel. Your mind goes blank and eyes grow distant as you’re brought back to the night he first said those words. Right after he found you laying in a pool of your own blood. It was the night your wings were clipped. A hand reaches out to caress your face and his fingers rest on your chin, directing your focus to him. 
Tears threaten the corners of your eyes. The desire to avert your gaze is strong, but he doesn't permit it. He needs you to answer him. "You know that, right?"
A breath catches in your throat before you finally manage to whisper, "Yeah."
Cassian's lips form a rare, softer smile. He draws you closer until you can feel his breath, sense his warmth. He kisses your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer and when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. A thumb brushes gently against your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips and absentmindedly, his thumb slowly traces along your bottom lip. There’s a faraway look in his eyes as he’s lost in contemplation.
Your heart is roaring in your ears and there’s something singing madly in your chest because he’s never touched you like this before. Tell him. Your breath is shaky when you speak. "Cas?"
He holds his gaze to your lips, allowing the soft rocking of a wave to push him closer to you. "Yes?"
Suddenly, the night sky bursts into a kaleidoscope of colors. The unexpected spectacle and the resonating boom startles you, and on instinct, you find refuge in the safety of Cassian's embrace. If he weren’t caught up in the heat of the moment, he would’ve teased you for the way you are clinging madly onto him, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him.
"Wow," you exhale, the initial shock giving way to a relaxed sense of awe.
The fireworks continue to bloom overhead, their vibrant hues reflecting in your wonderstruck eyes. You gradually unwrap your legs from around Cassian, and your arms loosen their hold around his neck. Yet, he maintains a firm grip on your hips.
“Beautiful.”
You hum in agreement, and when you turn back to Cassian, you realize his gaze has never wavered from you throughout the entire display. "What were you going to say?"
"What?"
"What were you going to say earlier…"
"Oh, that," you stammer, panic subtly seeping in, eyebrows furrowing slightly. The courage you once possessed to voice your feelings has dissipated in the wake of the unexpected interruption. “Um, can you teach me how to swim?”
His gaze lingers on you. It’s as if he knows those were not the words you were going to say but he doesn’t push you on it. “Sure,” he says instead and clears his throat, looking away. “But maybe another night?”
“Why?”
You regret your question as soon as you ask it, eyes widening when you feel why. There’s something hard poking at your stomach. You freeze up, not knowing what to do, inadvertently making matters worse. Though the night is dark, the moon glows bright enough for you both to notice your peaked nipples as the thin light fabric of your dress is completely see through in the water.
“Stop staring!” You cry out, using one of your hands to splash water onto him. If he weren’t your lifeline, the only thing keeping you afloat in these deep waters, you would’ve shoved him under water.
Cassian snaps out of it with a flinch, blinking away the salty droplets of water that splashed into his eyes. “I was looking respectfully!”
“Respectfully my ass!”
“I mean, I could look at that too.”
You shoot him a glare, hating the way his words have your insides in a frenzy. He doesn’t seem to care about his obvious arousal poking at you and you don’t have it in you to tease him as you’re desperately trying to hide yours, praying that the vast sea surrounding you is enough to mask your scent. Your hands are grasping out for the vines that run along the edge of the tiles as soon as you can reach them, using them to guide you back into the safety of your room.
You pause before you hoist yourself back up, turning to look at a clearly amused Cassian. 
“Turn around.”
“Oh, come on,” he chuckles but saves you further embarrassment by doing as you asked. You wait until his back is fully turned to you, wings flaring out behind him and spraying you with sea water on purpose, to hoist yourself up into your room. Once you’re on your feet, you pull at one of the many sheets on your bed, wrapping it snug around your exposed body.
“You can turn back around now.” 
“You can look as much as you want, bibble.” He tells you though your gaze remains fixed on the seashell painting on one of your walls. Your mind is racing and if he asked you what colors were on the painting, you would fail miserably in answering him.  “Disrespectfully too.”
You can hear his agonizingly slow footsteps as he makes his way to the door, not bothering to pick up the clothes he left sprawled all over your floor.  “Get out,” you nearly growl at him, not caring anymore, as you turn around and shove at his back. Because if he doesn’t leave soon, you’re sure you’ll lose your self control.
“Mother’s tits, y/n! I’m going!” He exclaims in protest with a grin evident in his tone.
“Well, go faster!” You huff at him, hands still pressing against his back. “I’m.Tired.”
Tired of holding back your emotions, more like it. As soon as he steps out your door, you’re slamming it shut before he can catch a glimpse of your flustered face.
“Sweet dreams, bibble.”
Leaning against the door, you take a moment to catch your breath as Cassian's deep laughter echoes through the halls. You close your eyes, attempting to rein in the whirlwind of emotions surging within you. It’s not the first time Cassian’s teased you and it won’t be the last and you’re certainly not the only one he flirts with. The female soldier from earlier being a prime example of that.
You know he means no harm by it. Yet, his teasing stings. Because you want it to be real, for him to mean every flirtatious gesture and word. You want him to like you and only you.
**
Nostrus's attempts to entice you into staying in his court become increasingly overt with each passing day. Every evening unveils a new gown adorned with matching jewelry and shoes. Precisely at the stroke of ten, the night sky ignites in a display of vibrant fireworks dedicated to the three of you but when you commented the red ones were your favorite, you note more shades of reds lighting up the night skies. Each morning, a charming arrangement of summer flowers graces your presence. Even the soldiers in your training group can't help but notice the High Lord's watchful gaze whenever he deigns to join them.
Azriel finds the spectacle amusing, always the silent observer to any unfolding drama. However, Cassian is less entertained. During your nightly debriefs with Rhysand, he consistently raises the issue and you’ve noticed that during training, he sticks closer to you. 
None of you bring up the heated moment you shared on your first night in Summer. It’s almost as if it didn’t happen at all and you’re not surprised. While it meant something to you, you know it meant nothing to him.
The female soldier, Olianna, you reluctantly learned her name, is as persistent with him as Nostrus is to you. You’re nearing the end of your first week when the female soldier and a couple of others join your nightly dinner with Nostrus and tonight, in her ruby red dress, she looks devastatingly beautiful. She takes the seat beside Cassian. Your unassigned but assigned spot. You begrudgingly sit beside Azriel instead, who is quick to raise a brow at you.
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything,” he replies and when you kick his leg under the table, there’s the faintest of a coy smile on his lips.
You barely even touch your plate. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and it’s not from the food. Cassian has barely even looked at you, engrossed in what appears to be a hilarious conversation with Olianna. You’re thankful when Nostrus excuses you all from dinner, quick to rise from your seat.
“Y/N, may I have a word?” Nostrus calls to you with a smile and when Cassian’s head perks up, finally sparing you a second of his attention, he adds: “In private.”
**
As you make your way back to your room, after a pointless conversation with Nostrus, your steps come abruptly to a halt. Your heart quickens and stomach tightens as you spot Cassian and Olianna down the hall.
Olianna’s hands rest on Cassian’s arms as she looks up at him. Her back is pressed against the wall. He leans down to whisper something that you can’t discern from your distance. It has her giggling and the sound is like a painful stab to your heart. They’re so, so close. That familiar ache settles in your chest, pushing down on you so harshly you can barely breathe. 
How desperately you wish to trade places with her and maybe that could’ve been you, if you had given in to his teasing the other night. While he’d give his body to you, you know his heart would not fall so easily such as the way yours did. Cassian is a true heartthrob, a man who effortlessly captivates the hearts of many but never the one to give his. Why would you be an exception?
You try to push away your unease but fail miserably when they walk further down the hall and disappear around a corner. Doubt begins to creep in, seeping into your bones with a terrifying chilling fear. Maybe, just maybe, there is something more between them and you had lost a battle only you were aware of fighting.
Tears burn at your eyes and as you hear the door shut behind him, you feel your heart shatter at the images that flood your mind. Of him kissing her, touching her and–Stop! 
You’re running blindly to your room, too caught up in your emotions to realize your mistake. Azriel blinks at your sudden entrance, seated on his bed. However, the distress etched across your face propels him to throw his book aside and jump to his feet. Shadows flit towards you, brushing against your exposed skin and he lets out a small exhale in relief when they report no injuries.
"Should I get Cas?" Azriel offers, eyes widening slightly as concern etches its way onto his features.
Your hand reaches out, stopping him before he can leave the room. "No."
He looks at you helplessly. He’s seen you cry before but Cassian was always there in those moments. Yes, Azriel regards you as a good friend–you’ve trained with him for many years alongside Cassian. He’d happily tend to your physical injuries because it was something he was capable of but the depth of your current pain is something he is unsure how to navigate. Something only Cassian uniquely understands.
"Okay," Azriel says slowly, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "What do you need?"
Frustration colors your attempt to wipe away the tears, and a sniffle escapes you. You’ve never felt so small, so fragile and as Azriel watches you break in front of him, realization dawns on him. Something must’ve happened between you and Cassian and his mouth parts to ask but you beat him to it.
"I need you to teach me how to swim." 
**
The next morning you can’t bring yourself to meet Cassian’s gaze. Images of him with Oliana flood your mind every time you cast a glance in his direction and the ache in your chest resurfaces. It’s irrational, you know. He’s not at fault for your feelings. After all, you’re just a friend to him. You have no claim to his affection, even though every fiber of your being yearns for it.
You are the problem.
When he reaches out, his hand lightly grasping your arm, you muster only a feeble greeting. You hear the concern in his voice as he asks what's wrong.
"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile. "I'm just tired."
You feel the weight of his gaze burning into you as you head over to your group. He casts a glance toward Azriel in silent questioning but the Shadowsinger simply shakes his head. 
**
The sun bathes Summer’s training grounds in a warm glow and sweat clings to your skin as you show one of your soldiers a delicate maneuver with your sword that Illyrians favor during battle.
As your gaze lifts with your sword, you catch a glimpse of Cassian and Oliana sparring. Your chest tightens when you can’t help but notice their proximity to one another. The sweet sound of her laughter follows shortly after and the tightening in your chest is replaced with a burning fire.
“I don’t think I’m doing it right. Can you teach me again?”
“Of course.”
Cassian's gaze briefly meets yours, and a sudden rush of emotion courses through you. You’re quickly averting your eyes, attempting to feign disinterest. You tell yourself you're no longer watching them, but deep down, your mind is painting vivid pictures, imprinting scenes of Cassian with her. 
However, this time, it's not sadness that simmers within. It’s a burning anger and your siphons flare. Cassian is free to do whatever he pleases in his spare time but during training? When you’re working and glaringly right in front of you?
Olianna’s laughter rings out again, the sound mingling with the clash of steel. Another pang of envy stabs through your chest, sharper than the blade in your hand. 
“Like this?”
“Yeah, you got it, sweetheart.”
Your blood runs cold, sending shivers down your spine yet, there’s an undeniable blaze burning fiercely within your chest. It’s a possessive fire, a primal instinct screaming “mine” in the depths of your very being. Why does she get a sweet nickname and you a stupid one? Why is he so gentle in training her when he was harsh with you?
“That’s it,” you hiss under your breath, looking back at your group. “I’m going to show you how a fight is won.”
Tightening your grip on your sword, you nearly stomp your way to Cassian. Azriel’s head perks up from where he stands, eyes widening for a fleeting moment as he catches the glow of your siphons. “Y/n, what are–”
“Stay out of it!” You exclaim, pointing your sword at him. The sharp blade teases at his throat and he falters. His shadows whisper to him in warning and he holds his hands up in surrender, catching something flickering in your eyes.
Cassian and Oliana turn their heads at the commotion. She instinctively takes a step behind Cassian and your jaw clenches at the sight. He doesn’t seem to notice it though, attention solely focused on you.
 “What’s the matter, bibble?”
 You point your sword at him. “You.”
“Me?” He responds, a bewildered expression crossing his face. However, he remains unfazed as your sword points directly at his chest. 
“You’ve gone soft, General.” you tell him, inclining your head towards Oliana and you can’t bring yourself to care if your emotions seep out. The envy is coursing through you like an unrelenting fire. “How is she to hone in her skills when she spends most of her training laughing and batting her pretty eyelashes at you?”
Cassian lets out a chuckle. It’s been years since you’ve referred to him by his title. His hazel eyes take you in, sparkling at you with something you can’t discern. He can read the challenge in your eyes and when he finally spares a glance to the female behind him, he turns back to you. His fingers grasp at your blade carefully, lowering your sword so he can take a step forward. 
“She’s not ready to be challenged.”
You smirk at him, standing your ground. “A soldier is never fully prepared for battle.”
Cassian takes another step forward and though your sword lowers further, your grip on the hilt tightens. “And a General knows when it’s best for their soldiers to refrain from entering the battlefield.”
You take pleasure in the way Oliana huffs out indignantly from behind him.
You arch an eyebrow at him in challenge. Deep down, you’re aware nothing good is going to come from this but your Illyrian blood craves an outlet for the pent-up emotions that have been brewing for many years. 
“You fight me then,” you demand and you can feel the simmering fire between you intensifying. You welcome it, almost seeking the chaos it promises. "And don't you dare go soft on me."
His pupils flare and a sly smirk curls upon his lips. “I don’t think you can handle me.”
“Lay it all on me.”
**
Two blood rubies, sinister in their crimson glow, glisten back at you, creating a dance of hues that pulse and flicker with an inner fire. One for Cassian. One for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach and you want to cry.
This is all your doing. Your fault. 
Cassian, however, does not regard the rubies sent from the Summer Court with the same gravity. "Might as well put these beauties to use. I’m sure it would look stunning on a necklace. Maybe, even a ring,” he quips as he picks his up, hazel eyes sparkling with mirth.
You immediately sense that nothing good is going to come from this–the same way you did before the two of you accidentally destroyed a building. He turns to you and gets down on one knee. There’s a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he looks up at you.
“Marry me?" 
A rush of heat floods your face, and your eyes instinctively seek out Rhysand, finding him far from amused. He's fuming with a quiet rage, his gaze icy and piercing. You quickly avert your eyes, shifting your attention back to the Illyrian male now kneeling before you. You nudge his knee with your leg, ignoring the twinge of hurt at the expense of his joke.
"Get up, Cas.”
"Say yes.”
"Get up.”
“You think this is funny??”
You flinch at the sharpness of Rhysand’s tone and Cassian stands with a sigh. His hand brushes against yours but you don’t dare take it. You don’t deserve it. It’s only been hours since your abrupt return from Summer–since your heated fight sent an entire building crumbling into rubble. If Azriel hadn’t used his shadows to return you home immediately after, you’re not sure you’d be alive right now.
“I’m so sorry, Rhys,” you say,  lowering your head and Rhysand’s gaze softens at the nervous fidgeting of your hands. “It’s all my fault.” 
“No, it’s mine.” Cassian steps forward, hand resting on your waist to gently push you back behind him as he takes full responsibility. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”
“Cas, I’m the one who challenged you.”
He ignores you. “It was my blast that sent that building, as weak as it already was, to crumble down.”
Rhysand lets out a deep sigh. He leans back into his seat, fingers rubbing at his forehead at the images Azriel provides. He finds that you both are equally at fault. They’re complete wreck less idiots,  Rhysand groans into the Shadowsinger’s mind.
I know.  There’s a hint of amusement in Azriel’s response.
Running a hand down his face in exhaustion, Rhysand looks at both you and Cassian. 
You stand there, still behind Cassian, anxious as you await your impending punishment and he can literally hear your mind racing without having to intrude. Meanwhile, Cassian, seemingly unfazed, hums a carefree tune to himself, earning an incredulous glance from you. 
“Well I can kiss my alliance with the Summer Court goodbye but I will not have a High Lord from another court seeking vengeance on two of my closest friends. You each are going to write your most heartfelt apologies to Nostrus, beg if you must, and let us all pray to the Cauldron that he finds it in his heart to forgive you.”
Parchment, ink and quills appear at the desk before you. With a flick of his wrist, Rhysand uses his magic to bring forth two chairs, gesturing for you and Cassian to sit. “You two are not allowed to leave this room until those letters are finished.”
Rhysand then turns to Azriel. “I need you to watch them. Make sure they don’t destroy any of my buildings.”
A low, almost melodramatic groan escapes Azriel’s lips. “Why do I always have to babysit them?”
“Azriel.”
“Fine.”
Once Rhysand leaves, you slump into one of the chairs with a small sigh of relief. You pick up a quill, dipping it in ink and stare at the blank parchment. Cassian does the same. Azriel picks up a book from one of the shelves. He then seats himself at Rhysand’s chair, right across from you both.
“Please make this quick,” his voice almost pleads, eyes darting between you both.
“You write it for me then.” Cassian rips a piece of paper, crumbling it into a tiny ball before flicking it at his friend. Azriel rolls his eyes, his loyal shadows catching the piece of paper midair and sending it back to Cassian, hitting his forehead with a tiny “whoosh.”
Your eyebrows furrow in an attempt to focus, all the while trying to ignore the distracting bounce of Cassian's leg. Slowly but surely, you’re scribbling words onto the parchment and before you know it, you’re crafting the most sincere apology to High Lord Nostrus. 
Cassian picks up on your deep concentration. He leans in closer, warm breath tickling your ear. “Whatcha writing there, bibble?”
“An apology,” you respond dryly, shooting him a sideways glance. You take note that his paper is still blank. “Something you should be doing too if you want us to make it to dinner.”
“I am. I’m just brainstorming,” he retorts in a ‘duh’ tone. “Let me see yours!”
You’re sliding your parchment away from his prying eyes. “No. Use your own brain!”
Ever the persistent one, Cassian leans in even closer, his head now practically resting on your shoulder as your hands hover over your paper, careful not to smear the fresh ink. “Come on, just a peek. I promise not to steal your most heartfelt words.”
With an exasperated sigh, you relent, allowing him a quick glimpse. His eyes are skimming through the words with an appreciative tilt of his head. “I like it. But maybe add a bit more details and drama, you know? Tug at his heartstrings a little more, he seemed to like you a lot.”
“We’re not trying to craft a masterpiece to win an award, Cassian,” you hiss at him, snatching your letter away from him.
“But you are trying to free yourself of a death sentence.” Azriel remarks, peering over his book at you as he reminds you that receiving a blood ruby from the Summer Court is not something to be taken lightly.
“See? Az gets it.” Cassian chuckles.
“Shut up and get to writing.” Azriel snaps at the busybody beside you, a stern edge in his tone.
“Yes, sir!”
**
Fortunately, the three of you arrive just in time for dinner. Unfortunately, the predominant topic at the table centers around the destruction of the building in the Summer Court. Rhysand, having taken the time to cool down, is noticeably calmer. While he remains upset that you and Cassian veered off course from your assigned mission, there's also a hint of happiness in having his friends back home and safe.
Cassian casually drapes his arm over the back of your chair, and the room is filled with the melody of his laughter in response to something Mor said. Something you should’ve caught as you’re seated right across from her but it’s the rich scent of sandalwood that captivates all your senses, causing your stomach to flutter. You barely manage to swallow your food without choking–a fact not lost on Azriel. He, however, chooses not to comment, sparing you from further embarrassment and grinning into his glass of wine instead.
 Rhysand glares at Mor and you get a sense of what had been said when he says: “Please don’t encourage these architects of chaos.”
You groan, leaning back into your seat. The regret is instant as the edge of your wing brushes against Cassian’s arm. It sends a slight shiver down your spine and you’re mustering all your strength to keep it from causing your sensitive wings to twitch. You’re down bad.
“Can we please talk about something else?”
“Sure, but before we do…” Amren begins, a devious smile playing on her lips as she glances at you from across the table. “Can I keep the rubies?”
“Yeah and you can even keep the threat that comes with it too.”
The rest of dinner is, for the most part, uneventful. Rhysand excuses himself early to finish on some paperwork and before he leaves, he lets you and Cassian know that High Lord Nostrus should be receiving your written apologies by tomorrow morning. Amren leaves shortly after, eager to return to the quiet peace of her home. Just in time, too, as she manages to avoid a pointless argument between Cassian and Azriel over who has the best technique in training.
Not wanting to be dragged into it, you rise from your seat, grabbing a hold of the two remaining unopened wine bottles that Rhysand forgot to take back with him. You turn to Mor and you laugh when you don’t even have to say anything. She’s already standing from her seat, gesturing for you to lead the way.
The two of you end up in one of the living rooms and you’re touched when you find that the sentient house has a delicious assortment of desserts waiting for you on the coffee table. You sink into the comfort of the couch, feeling like you’re sitting on a cloud. Mor seats herself beside you, doing the honors of pouring you a glass of wine.
It doesn’t take long before the two of you are immersed into the dirtiest of gossip and catch up with one another. You move to pour yourself another glass only to find the second wine bottle empty, so you set your empty glass down on the coffee table. Leaning back into the comfort of the plush couch, you let out a sigh.
“I don’t know what he’s done to me,” you confess quietly, exhaustion taking over your features. “I’ve known him for years and all of sudden, I’m a possessive jealous mess? It doesn’t make sense to me.”
Mor raises a brow, as if it makes perfect sense to her. She then hums in contemplation, swirling the last drops of wine in her glass. “Maybe we should go out, have some fun, find a little distraction for you.”
“Or you can tell Cassian how you feel.”
The deep voice startles you both, causing Mor to gasp. Her glass falls from her grasps as Azriel emerges from the shadows. She regards the small specks of red tainting the white carpet with a frown before lifting her gaze to scowl at the Shadowsinger while you shoot him a mortified look.
“How dare you give her a reasonable option?” Mor chides him, waving her hands dramatically in the air.
“Stop with that nonsense, Az,” you say, a slight slur to your words. A frown settles onto your face, heart aching as your mind forces you to think of Cassian and Olianna. “He doesn’t feel the same for me as I do for him. I’ll only ruin our friendship if I do.”
Azriel’s eyes travel throughout the room. He takes in the empty bottles of wine, your hazy eyes and Mor’s flushed face. He looks like he wants to tell you something, on the verge of sharing a secret. Yet, whatever words linger on the tip of his tongue remain unspoken. He decides it’s best to turn around and leave, the inked wing on his arm burning further into his skin.
“Fine but don’t call me for help when you destroy another building.”
"Oh, fuck you."
He doesn't bother to turn around as he returns the gesture, a small chuckle escaping from him as he disappears into his shadows.
“So,” you turn back to Mor. “How about that distraction?” 
**
“By the Cauldron, you look absolutely ravishing.” Mor whistles, stepping back to appreciate her work and as you look at your reflection in the mirror, you can’t help but agree.
After asking Rhysand to fly you both down, Mor winnowed you both to the townhouse, where she kept most of her going out clothes as it was a shorter distance to Rita’s. Insisting on glamming you up, she took charge of your hair and makeup, even providing you with a choice from her wardrobe. Considering the wings, your options were limited, but your gaze was drawn to a striking red satin dress. It had an alluring lace-up open back and a daring slit hem.
After scouring the dance floor for an hour from your seat at the bar, you finally find someone who catches your interest and as you approach him, you’re happy to find that he isn't intimidated by the sight of your wings. Despite your determination to keep a low profile in Velaris, it becomes challenging to go unnoticed when your friends all possess such great reputations, especially when Cassian is by your side. Mor wishes you good luck, sending you a wink as you depart from her side. 
The male, who is named Felix, slings an arm around your waist, pulling you flush to him as you dance and you find yourself missing the scent of sandalwood immensely. He grins at you, intentions as clear as yours. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, drinking you under the neon lights of Rita’s. He licks his lips and glances over at your wings. “I’ve heard Illyrians can be very sensitive when it comes to their wings. Can I touch?”
Your mind immediately brings an image forward, of your wings being softly caressed, and heat pools down to your stomach. But in your head, it’s not the male in front of you. It’s Cassian’s.  
“Don’t you dare fucking touch her!”
By the Cauldron, your mind is playing tricks on you as you can even hear his voice too.
You feel the loss of warmth from the male and you open your eyes just in time to see Felix sent stumbling to the floor. Your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you. Cassian is standing in front of you, chest heaving. The people who had stopped to stare quickly avert their gazes at his heated stare.
Felix gets up to his feet. He doesn’t even spare you a glance or a word as he disappears into the crowd. You’re immediately leaving the dance floor, not bothering to grab your coat before you exit the club with Cassian hot on your heels.
You pivot and Cassian nearly bumps into you. “What the fuck Cassian?”
“Yeah,” he agrees, returning your glare. “What the fuck?”
“Why are you even here?”
“I don’t know. Something didn't feel right." Cassian confesses, placing a hand over his chest as if to settle a pain.
You turn back around, knowing the towering Illyrian male was already planning to follow you. You begin to make your way to your place–a small apartment that Rhysand had gifted you on your first solstice in Velaris. You seldom used it, preferring to stay at either the house of wind or townhouse, but Rhysand insisted you have a place of your own in case you ever need space.
“And that gave you the right to ruin my night?” you huff over your shoulder.
“Ruin your night? I just saved you!”
“From what?” You laugh with sarcasm, grateful that the walk from your apartment and Rita’s was short. Pulling your key out from your bra, you hastily unlock your door.  “An orgasm? Gee, thanks. Love you for that,” and then under your breath mutter: “I didn’t stop you from yours in Summer.”
As soon as you step through your door, you turn and shut it behind you. A boot stops you from doing so and Cassian pushes against you and the door, allowing himself in. “What are you talking about?”
“You mean to tell me nothing happened between you and Olianna?”
“Yes, because nothing happened! She asked me to help her with a move after dinner so I did and…” His voice trails off, and then a heavy silence descends as realization washes over him. He looks at you, and you instinctively avert your gaze.
Without bothering to slip off your heels, you dart straight to your room, desperate to put as much distance between the two of you. You’re not ready to have this conversation. Relief mingles with embarrassment, both emotions flooding you and sending blood rushing to your face. But Cassian is determined. He follows after you.
“Were you jealous?”
Arms crossed over your chest, you keep your back to him, wings curled around you. “No.”
Cassian chuckles, and before you know it, he's spinning you around to face him. One hand presses against your lower back, the other at your face. A smirk plays on his lips as he reads the defiant expression on your face. He knows you’re lying.
“You were jealous.”
“So were you,” you manage to say back.
Cassian hums in what can only be agreement. A thumb reaches out to brush your lower lip, the same way he did your first night in Summer, and then he’s replacing his thumb with his lips. The way he wanted to that night. His kiss is anything but gentle. It’s pure heated desire–one that has been simmering for years. You kiss him back, matching his urgency and he groans, allowing both of his hands to cup your face as his lips mold perfectly against yours.
He pulls away, his hands still cradling your face as his gaze burns into yours. “You want to orgasm tonight? I can give it to you.”
A thrill runs down your spine and your wings shudder. You should push him away. Cassian is your friend. A friend… who is offering to give you an orgasm with a very promising look at this very moment. Though your heart tells you not to, that you might end up hurt after this, there’s that singing in your chest again. Give in.
“You sound so confident.”
His eyes darken as his legs push against yours, walking you both to your bed. The back of your knees meet your bed and you give in, allowing yourself to fall onto the soft sheets behind you. You land on your elbows and push yourself even further up on your bed until your back meets your headrest.
“Don’t test me, baby,” he purrs, watching the way your thighs clench in response to the new nickname. It makes his cock harden in his pants. “I can have you screaming all night long.”
“Lay it all on me,” you reply, heart be damned.
Cassian wastes no time in stripping himself of his clothes, lust filled eyes fixated on you. His hard cock springs free and your eyes widen because yes, you’ve seen him before but not like this. Not when he’s hard and leaking and it’s all for you. He pumps himself, licking his lips, as your arousal floods his senses before easing himself onto the bed.
He slips your heels off and discards them. His hands caress their way up your legs and the roughness of his hands, weathered by many battles and challenges, feels heavenly against you. As his hands make their way higher, they begin kneading at the soft flesh of your thighs, dragging your dress up along with his movements. He groans at the thin lace that greets him, pressing his lips against your clothed core.
“You’re so fucking wet.”
“Well, you did catch me in the middle of something promising earlier…”
Cassian growls at your words, a wave of possessiveness taking over him. “Yeah? Well, by the time I’m done with you, it will be my cum dripping out of this pretty pussy.”
He’s tugging at your underwear, hastily dragging it down your legs. With a devious smirk, he grasps your hands and places them over his hair. “Hold on tight, baby.”
It’s the only warning he gives you before diving right in and setting you alight with his mouth. His nose brushes against your clit as he begins to fuck you with his tongue. “Do you know how often I thought of this? Of tasting you.”
You want to tell him you’ve thought of this too but you’re too lost in the pleasure of his mouth. All you can do is moan and it spurs him on, urging him to bring you closer to your release.  “I can only imagine how good I’ll feel inside you.”
His words, a promise of what is to come, is your undoing. You’re squirming beneath him, back arching off the bed as you thread your fingers through his hair. A string of curses leaves your lips when he presses multiple kisses to your clit, overwhelming you in such a delightful way.
Cassian pulls away, mouth glistening with your release as he grins and your heart flutters. He crawls his way up your body, replacing his tongue with his fingers, reveling in the way they easily slide in. His lips slot over yours in a sloppy and heated kiss. When he slips another finger into you, you’re moaning into his mouth. His tongue dances with yours, wrestling for dominance that you ardently submit to.
“Please, Cassian,” you’re begging when his lips leave yours and his cock twitches at the pretty sounds that follow after. Another wave of white hot pleasure crashes over you and he groans, loving the way you're clenching so tightly around his fingers. “I need you.”
Cassian slips his fingers out of you, placing his hands at your hips to flip the both of you over. He adjusts you to straddle his lap, gaze burning into you with need. “Show me.”
“But let’s get rid of this first.” His fingers toy with the slit of your dress. “I need to see all of you.”
You nod, fingers reaching behind to undo the laces of your dress. The sound of fabric ripping reaches your ears before you can undo the first knot and cool air caresses against the newly exposed skin. 
“Cassian!”
“That’s my name, baby,” he grins at you, expertly unclasping your bra and throwing it behind you along with the torn dress.
“That wasn’t my dre–oh.” Your protest dies at your throat, eyes fluttering shut as he takes your breasts in his hands, kneading the soft flesh and pressing them together. The torn dress you borrowed from Mor is long forgotten, stored away in the back of your mind. The same way you stored away all your reservations. The desire that’s been consuming you is too much for you to think through reasonably so you succumb completely into it, knowing there will be consequences to deal with later.
**
It’s almost embarrassing how much Cassian has thought about this, especially after the tease you gave him in Summer. His desires had gone beyond wanting to kiss you that night. He wanted to see, feel and taste every part of you. To hear you moaning and screaming just for him. Now, that you’re completely bare before him, he can look, feel and taste all he wants. And he plans to bask in every second of your warmth.
 “So fucking beautiful,” he breathes, leaning in to take a breast into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardening nipple with burning hunger. Your hands find purchase in his hair again as you arch yourself further, grinding against him. Lewd moans escape from both of you when the tip of his cock brushes against your sensitive clit. Cassian dives for your neck next, pressing hot open mouthed kisses everywhere he can. 
“Come on, baby girl. Show me how much you need me and ride me.”
Aligning yourself with him, you slowly sink down onto his cock, savoring the burn from the stretch. His fingers run up and down your sides before settling onto your hips. Eyes fluttering shut at the sheer intensity of your warmth, he can’t help but thrust up into you, fully sheathing himself inside you. His head tilts back when you begin to move and he releases a deep groan.
It’s when your thighs start to tremble and wings flare out that he takes over. He hugs you tightly, arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand rubs at your clit. While he pants and groans against your neck, you’re crying and screaming out his name. He plants his feet on the bed and thrusts ruthlessly up into you over and over again until you both reach your high, wings flaring out. 
**
As Cassian stirs in bed, a cool emptiness greets him, replacing the warmth he expected. Blinking his eyes open, he finds the spot beside him empty. You're gone. The lingering trace of your sweet scent is the only evidence of what transpired between you both. Fuck. Apprehension weighs down on his mind in your absence, threatening to sicken his stomach. He needs to talk to you. 
After freshening up and slipping into the spare clothes he keeps at your place, his determination to find you takes hold. It's as if he can sense the storm of emotions within you—guilt, anxiety, and fear. There’s an inkling in his mind as to where you are. He knows you so well. A soft smile graces his lips when he spots you on the training grounds of the house of wind, unleashing powerful strikes on a punching bag.
Your hair is gathered into a carefree bun, and today, you've traded your usual leathers for leggings and a sports bra. You’re a vision of strength and beauty and as loose strands of your hair dance in the breeze, Cassian finds himself lost in the realization of just how deeply in love with you he is. 
He lands softly, fighting the urge to frown when he notices the immediate tension in your body from his presence. He hesitates, his throat bobbing as he looks at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Can we—"
"No, let me talk first," you interrupt with a deep sigh as you turn to face him.
"But I had something to say first," he insists with a slight shake of his head.
“I have something more important to say."
Cassian crosses his arms, challenging your claim. "My something is more important than your something."
“I love you.”
The words hang in the air and as the weight of your confession sinks in, a wave of fear grips you. You're certain you've just shattered any hopes of a remaining friendship with him. Because after last night, there's no way you can keep going on as a friend when you want to be so much more. The silence becomes maddening, and suddenly, you can't hold it any longer.
“I love you so much it hurts,” you admit with a trembling breath, tears welling in your eyes. “Because I want your every smile, your every laugh, but above all, I want your heart and–and I’m sorry for–”
“Oh, y/n,” Cassian interrupts with a chuckle.
The sound makes you go weak and you’re absolutely mortified. He rarely ever calls you by your name. He’s about to break your heart, the very thing you’ve been fearing since the realization of your feelings. The urge to run away grips you, but your feet remain planted. You lack the strength to escape the moment. Tears flow freely down your face, and your wings sag behind you, unable to bear the weight of vulnerability.
“You’ve had my heart from the start.”
Slowly, you lift your gaze. Hazel eyes bore into yours, the golden flecks glimmering at you. “What?”
He steps closer to you until he's standing right in front of you. His hands cradle your face as he wipes at your tears. “I’ve loved you for years. I thought I made it pretty obvious, especially after last night.”
“Not obvious enough,” you remark with a huff but there’s a playful and affectionate undertone in your voice.
“I could remind you again?”
"Please."
A radiant smile breaks onto Cassian’s face, and the warmth in his eyes washes away any doubt that may have lingered in your heart. Something within you flutters madly against your ribs. All these years…the teasing, the flirting, the lingering touches. They all meant something to him, the same way it did for you. You’ve loved him and he loved you back. So many years wasted, yearning and pining for one another. As you gaze into each other’s eyes, so many unspoken words are said and there’s a shared understanding that you’re not wasting another moment.
**
Rhysand raises his cup of coffee to his lips, the rich aroma swirling around him as he catches a glimpse of Cassian, carrying you over his shoulder, with an eagerness he’s familiar with. He then glances over the rim of his mug at Azriel, seated across from him at the breakfast table.
"Do you think they know?"
Azriel snorts in response. "Doubt it. I think you should tell them."
“No.” Rhysand's lips curve into a smirk. "Let's see how long it takes them to realize that their mating bond has snapped into place."
“We should probably head out.”
“Good idea,” Rhysand replies with a nod of his head.
In the blink of an eye, the sentient house packs the remnants of their breakfast for them to enjoy elsewhere. Without a moment's delay, they make their way to one of the balconies. Their wings gracefully unfurl behind them, catching the morning sunlight that bathes them in a golden glow.
As they soar away, you and Cassian remain blissfully unaware of the invisible thread that has silently bound your souls together for years.
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tagging: @historiaxvanserra
a/n: I always wanted to write a fic where a mating bond has snapped but neither of them have a clue because they already loved each other, might be a bit unrealistic but 🤷‍♀️ I came across this bibble meme while writing this and it reminded me of both reader and Cas in some aspects. Since I couldn't think of an embarrassing nickname, I went with Bibble and so now the cute little character is canon in Prythian in this lol.
if you want more background info on reader and cas: click here
Other things that I included in this part:
This scene from Vampire Diaries.
also, this tiktok.
776 notes · View notes
bat-boys · 1 month
Text
a healer's touch
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 5.8k
warnings: mentions of injury and blood, a small amount of angst, lots of fluff
summary: as a healer you meet many people as part of your profession but when you are asked to heal a certain spymaster you are unprepared for the connection that comes with it.
a/n: hello, I'm new here! I had this in my head so needed to write to down. I hope you enjoy.
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It had been a regular, if somewhat busy, morning at the healer's centre in Velaris. There had been a steady queue of people coming in and out to collect medicine, ask about a rash that concerned them or even pop in to express their thanks for healing a family member. You hummed a soft, familiar tune as you mixed herbs to create a salve for one of your regular patients whose old, aching bones continuously bothered them. 
It was days like this that reminded you of why you loved being a healer so much.
"Girl! Come with me. We're needed at the House of Wind." The calmness that had settled over the room was banished as Madja, the head healer, your mentor and distant aunt on your mother's side, bustled into the workroom to grab her box of salves, potions and herbs she kept on hand for moments like this.
"T-the House of Wind?" You squeaked as you set down your mortar and pestle, absentmindedly brushing your suddenly sweaty hands on your apron. 
"Yes," Madja sighed, "I curse the day I gave Rhysand permission to call for me personally anytime any of his friends get themselves into trouble." The words may have been harsh, but there was a warm fondness to her tone, and you knew she fussed over the Inner Circle like they were her own children.
"But me? Are you sure?" You may have been apprenticing under Madja for nearly a century at this point, but she, your peers, and the people of Velaris consider you a skilled healer in your own right. However, this was new and somewhat scary. You had never set foot into the House of Wind and barely interacted with the Inner Circle, whom you revered and respected for the future they were building across Prythian. You knew it was irrational, but you were terrified of attending to them and your healer skills fleeing at the very moment you needed them most. 
Madja stopped fussing and turned towards you, understanding flickering across her features as she took in your hands, wringing nervously in front of you. 
"Y/N, you are my best student, my successor - you are ready for this." Her voice was firm in her conviction, but her smile was soft as she fondly brushed a stray strand of hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, "Now come, get your things; I dread to think what they've gotten up to up there!"
The following five minutes passed in a blur as you shucked off your apron, grabbed your bag similar to the one Madja carried and met the two Illyrian lieutenants who bundled you up in their arms and flew you to the House. 
From the entryway alone, you knew the House of Wind was the most beautiful home you had ever stepped foot in. Madja chuckled beside you and didn't give you time to appreciate the room's beauty before she walked ahead of you and gestured for you to follow. Your heart was thumping rapidly in your chest as you swung your head from left to right and walked through the lovely hallways, trying to capture every ornate detail that decorated the walls. You must have been staring wide-eyed because Madja gently bumped her shoulder into yours, reminding you to remain professional. 
It wasn't long before she led you up a series of stairs and stepped outside into the sun's warm rays. For a moment, you let your head tip back slightly, closing your eyes to let the rays dance along your face. Down in the city, you very rarely got to feel the sun on your skin like this. There was always the long shadow of a building to obscure the sun, or you were simply too busy rushing from patient to patient to fully enjoy it. 
You used the moment to centre yourself, reminding yourself of your extensive training and ability and capability to heal almost any wound. You were the head healer-in-training, and you could do this.  You let your eyes adjust to the scene before you as you took in the outside training centre. The floor was covered in what you assumed was red dust, coating the hem of your dress and clinging to the brown leather of your slippers. Racks of weapons lined the walls, a ring was set up in the centre clearly for sparring, and ropes and punch bags were littered across the space, too. You could see that the training session was still ongoing, and you could hear people shouting suggestions to each other over the sound of swords clashing, but your attention snagged on the two males you saw grumbling next to each other. You knew who they were immediately and swallowed thickly as you realised it was them you had been summoned to heal. 
"What trouble have you two found yourself in now?" Madja called as she walked towards the pair of them. 
"It isn't our fault!" The one you immediately recognised as Cassian exclaimed.
"It never is." Madja teased back.
"We saw the guards in the Summer Court using a new training technique, and we decided to try it out…it didn't go well." 
"Evidently not. You tend to Azriel, I'll take this one." Madja sighed, already moving away from you to deal with Cassian. 
You faintly heard Cassian make a witty comment behind you before it was cut off with a hiss as Madja laid a hand on the cut slicing his chest. However, you were distracted as you turned to face the other Illyrian sporting a nasty injury, and made direct eye contact with those beautiful, disconcerting, ice-cold hazel eyes. Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you made your way over to him, your heart slamming into your chest.
"Hi, I'm Y/N." You cursed yourself for sounding breathless and for the blush that no doubt was creeping up your neck.
"I'm Azriel." His deep baritone voice sent a shiver of delight down your spine and knocked the rest of your breath from you. 
"I know." You smiled at him, and he smiled very faintly back, a soft huff leaving his lips as you set your bag down and reached out your hand to him, "May I take a look?"
Early on in your training, you discovered that if your patient was conscious and capable of answering questions, you would ask consent to touch them and walk them through anything you were about to do. You found this calmed them down and created a sense of trust.
Azriel blinked at the question, not used to someone with such a soft demeanour looking after him. He didn't respond but simply extended his arm towards you. Gently, like he could bolt at any moment, you held his wrist in your hand and slowly tilted his arm to get a look at the gash you could see through his leathers. 
A soft hum escaped your lips as you saw the slash in his leathers and the blood leaking through the cut to his skin. It didn't look too deep but would undoubtedly need healing if he needed to use any of his weapons anytime soon. 
"I'm going to remove your leathers. Is that ok?" You asked, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him again, ready for the way his gaze knocked the breath out of you again. He simply nodded, and you smiled at him before you bent your head back to the task at hand. 
Azriel barely breathed as he watched you unbuckle the strap at his wrists and then push the leathers off his arm. He had never experienced such softness from a healer or anyone before. He allowed himself to look at you, to let his eyes roam over your beautiful face. His eyes snagged on that strand of hair that had fallen from the bun that rested above the nape of your neck, and he had to physically stop himself from reaching out and discovering how soft your hair felt between his scarred fingers. He almost gasped when your fingers finally touched his bare skin, and a jolt of electricity zipped through his body at the contact. 
"Oh, this doesn't look too deep; that's good!" you mumbled as you gently sponged away the blood from around the cut to get a better look at it. "Ok, I'm going to close the cut. You probably know this, but it may tingle." 
The shadowsinger watched as your brows furrowed, and the hand that wasn't clutching his wrist hovered above the cut on his arm. Warmth spread down that cut, turning into a delightful tingle reverberating around his body. He had always hated this moment of being healed, cringing at the way his skin would knit together before him, almost against his will. However, he didn't feel anything as he watched the cut on his arm disappear and marvelled at the almost pleasant way your magic brushed against his. 
"Thank you." Azriel sounded breathless.
"You are most welcome." He watched, unable to move, as your hands slipped from his forearm to gently trace the scars around his hand. Azriel was often jumpy around his hands, hating the way they looked, but he couldn't help marvelling at the way you touched them as if you weren't afraid or sad—merely curious: "Do your hands get stiff at all?"
"Sometimes after a long day of training or when it's cold." You could feel his eyes on you as you continued to examine his hands. You had noticed them when you had first looked at his injury, having heard of them through various whispers and rumours that filtered through Velaris. What you hadn't been prepared for was how beautiful they were. To you, the scars that had been left behind, were a testament to his strength. 
"Hmmm, I thought as much," you said, looking up from his hands to meet his gaze. "I have a salve that will help if you would like it?"
"I would like that very much." His answer was very soft, and it caused the breath to escape your lungs once again. 
"Pop down to the clinic when you're next in the city. I'll have it ready to collect from tomorrow. Or just send word, and I will ask a courier to deliver it to you. I know how busy you are!" You could tell you were rambling now, and from the quirk of his lips, you were also blushing furiously. 
"I'll collect it myself, Y/N, I wouldn't want to trouble you."
"It's no trouble at all." You whispered. 
"Y/N! Can you also check over this Valkyrie once you're done with the spymaster, please?" Madja's voice broke through the peaceful silence you and the spymaster were enjoying—both of you shocked but not displeased by this steady connection you seemed to have. 
"Of course, I'll be right there!" You turned back to Azriel with an apologetic smile, "I'd best go; it was lovely to meet you, Azriel."
He watched as you gathered your supplies, brushing that strand of hair behind your ears, "And you, Y/N. I'll see you in the clinic."
As you walked away to tend to one of the young females who was smiling sheepishly at you, you couldn't help the butterflies that flew about in your stomach at the thought of seeing Azriel again. 
You hadn't expected to see him walking through the door to the healer's centre the next day. So when you heard the soft tinkle of the bell above the door and turned around to greet whoever had walked through, your heart leapt into your throat, and your breath left your lungs as you beheld the Illyrian warrior who had wandered into your sanctum. 
"Azriel." You whispered, similar shy smiles falling on both of your lips. 
"I hope this is a good time? I wasn't sure when would be best to pop in."
"Oh no! This is great. I finished your salve an hour ago, so it's ready for you to take home." You grabbed the small bottle you had filled not long ago off the counter and passed it over to him, "Rub this liberally over your hands when they are stiff. You can also use it as a preventative measure on days you know you might need it. Let me know if you need any more and how you get on, and we can adjust some of the ingredients."
"Thank you again, Y/N," You had to hold your body incredibly still to avoid the shiver that wanted to wander down your spine at the sound of your name rolling off Azriel's tongue. 
The pair of you stared at each other as silence once again settled over the room—a comfortable silence, one you didn't feel the need to fill. It was refreshing to feel that with someone, not having to say something to fill an awkward void. It was peaceful, and it surprised you to feel that with someone like Azriel, someone who was feared in every Court across Prythian, whose stories were used by parents to get their children to behave. 
"When do you finish your shift?" He finally asked, breaking that comfortable silence. 
"Oh! I actually finished ten minutes ago - you caught me as I was closing up." 
"In that case, can I get you dinner? To say thank you for the healing yesterday and the salve." Azriel looked almost shy as he shifted on his feet, having to clear his throat a couple of times. 
"Oh, you don't have to do that!" You were sure a vibrant blush was sweeping up your neck, and along your cheeks, at the soft smile the spymaster was giving you. 
"I'd like to." His soft voice made your heart melt, and in that moment, you knew you'd give anything to spend even a second more in his presence. 
"I would like that. I know a restaurant just a few minutes away that I've been meaning to try?"
His lips turned up into a broad smile, "Perfect. Lead the way."
If you had told yourself when you had joined the healer's centre all those years ago that it would lead to a friendship with your High Lord's spymaster, you would have laughed till you were hoarse. But that lovely meal you shared with Azriel in that charming restaurant along the Sidra was not the last. 
Azriel had taken it upon himself a couple of times a week to drop by the centre - either just as you were about to take your lunch break or just as you were finishing up for the evening - to take you out for a meal. Together, you had explored almost every cafe, restaurant, and picnic spot on this side of the city, and each time, you had left beaming ear to ear.
He had also taken it upon himself to either call down to the centre or request you come to the House of Wind to personally attend to the injuries he received from training or whilst away on missions. You had started to suspect that he called you even for injuries he could heal himself, and you blushed furiously every time you thought about it but refused to call him out on it, even jokingly. You lived every day for those visits, for those moments between the two of you, the times after the healing when you would sit together and talk, and the easy companionship you found in Azriel. 
Madja and Cassian had caught on to it, and both just smiled knowing looks when you told them you were off to the House of Wind or when you passed them in the hallway. Your frequent visits also meant that you had been introduced to Azriel's family, the Inner Circle of the Night Court. Slowly, over the months, you and Azriel developed your friendship, and you also began to cultivate friendships with the others, particularly Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian. 
Cassian made you laugh with his jokes, Rhys and you bonded over your shared ambition for the future you both so desperately wanted to create, and Feyre had become a dear friend who sometimes winnowed into your small apartment in the city to have girls' nights. 
You couldn't believe your luck at how your life had pivoted in the last couple of months, the happiness you now felt. All thanks to one person.
And one evening, after healing a nasty gash on Az's leg, you sat on the sofa next to him with the rest of his family scattered around you, a glass of wine in your hand and Az's wing hovering behind you to block out the cool breeze coming in through the open window you realised just much you loved him. 
"How many times a day do I use it?" the elderly patient in front of you asked again. You gave them a soft smile before reaching for a scrap of paper and pen beside you and scribbling the instructions down for them.
"Twice a day, once when you wake up and then again before you go to bed," you handed the piece of paper over to them, and they offered you a very grateful smile. "If you see no improvements within three days, come back, and we'll try something else."
"Thank you, Y/N, truly thank you." You waved them off with a fond smile as they shuffled out of the centre.
You were just turning to offer a smile and welcome to the next person who stood in line at the large counter in the centre of the room when the main door to the centre burst open, and Cassian stood in the doorway. Immediately, you knew something was wrong. His body was heaving, and he was out of breath as if he had rushed to find you.
"It's Azriel," he thundered. Your blood ran cold, and your heart stopped dead in your chest before starting up at a thunderous pace. Immediately, you allowed your calm healer's mind to take over, silencing the roaring in your ears and the panic clawing up your throat.
"Marta! I need you to take over at the counter. If it's urgent and you can't help, call for Sara. If it's something that can wait, take note of their name and where they live, and I will personally visit them in the next couple of days. Is that ok?" You didn't wait for a reply, throwing the apron off your body and grabbing the box of supplies you always kept by your feet when on counter duty in case you needed to rush off to a patient before diving around the counter towards Cassian. 
He threw an arm over your shoulder in greeting and comfort and to steer you through the crowd to a section of the street that was less occupied so he could fly you both up the House of Wind. 
"How bad is it?" You mumbled as you felt his strong hands cup underneath your knees and around your back, your arms reaching up to loop around his neck. 
"Bad," he grunted as he soared into the air. Being in Cassian's arms as he flew was so different from being in Azriel's. He was warm like the spymaster, but the desire to explore the air with the male wasn't there. The joy you often took in this short journey was missing. 
Cassian landed heavily on the tiled floor of the entryway, back where you had stood all those months ago when you had first been summoned. The House was deathly quiet as you made the familiar walk through hallways you barely acknowledged towards the bedroom Azriel always occupied. 
“Y/N.” Rhys breathed your name as you strolled towards him, and you noticed how Feyre, Mor and Nesta stood around the open door, each looking more nervous than the last. 
"Rhys," you acknowledged your High Lord, someone who had become your friend in the last couple of months, "is he in there?" You asked, his head dipping in a single nod as you slipped past him into the room. 
A sob almost wrenched itself from your throat as your eyes finally landed on Azriel. He was deathly pale, his body sprawled atop the covers of his bed, his wings flared out beneath him. You stared at him for a second, silently willing his chest to rise and fall with breath, and when it did, you almost screamed to whichever God would listen. A part of you couldn't help but acknowledge that he still looked handsome in this state, the proud line of his nose, the sensual curve of his lips - even as blood dripped from the huge wound in his chest and pooled on the bedsheets underneath him. 
"Where is Madja?" Rhys quietly asked as you stepped into the room and dropped your supplies by the side of the bed, your hands shaking as you began to raise them to assess Azriel's condition. 
"Away tending to a terminally ill family member." You tightly replied. 
"Shit." Shit, indeed, you wanted to grumble, but you were also suddenly, unspeakably angry. 
"With all due respect, Rhys, I have been trained personally by Madja for over a century, and I have been tending to this male's wounds personally for the last couple of months. I know his body and how it heals better than I know my own. I will take a look, and if it is beyond my capabilities, we will call for Madja, but I promise you now I will heal him." Everyone froze in the wake of your outburst, but you kept your eyes locked on the High Lord of the Night Court, a male you had grown increasingly fond of as you spent more time with Az and his family. He simply looked at you, a beat of understanding flashing in his eyes before he turned to his mate standing beside him, reaching out to take her hand and smiling softly at her before turning back to you.
"My apologies, Y/N. Please, do what you do best." His words were soft and apologetic, and you simply nodded at him before turning back to the male sprawled on the bed before you. 
Your heart broke to see him in such a state, the man you had grown to love. 
"What do you need?" Feyre softly asked behind you. Suddenly, you were incredibly grateful that Az had friends who cared about him so deeply and honoured that he had introduced you to them, too, and brought you into the lovely warmth of friendship. 
"Two bowls of water—one warm and the other cool—and some rags, please, Fey. I also need someone to help me get him out of his leathers. Can someone close all of the curtains and drapes in this room and get some faelights in here, please?" Immediately, Cassian was in front of you, starting at the buckles on his wrists, ankles, and chest. 
"Why?" Someone asked behind you, you thought it was Mor. 
"His shadows. They'll help heal him, but we need to create the environment in which they thrive best: darkness." Both you and Az had tested the theory over the last couple of months and you had found he was stronger and healed quicker when his shadows were around. It was something you so desperately wanted to study further but didn't want to overstep a boundary. 
Finally, between you and his best friend, you managed to wrangle Azriel out of his leathers, careful not to jostle him too much to not irritate his wound. 
"How bad is it?" Cassian asked, parroting back to you the question you had asked him not ten minutes ago but what felt like hours. You ignored him for a second, taking a look at the hole in Az's chest, punched just above his heart and cutting through those beautiful Illriyan tattoos before reaching your hand out to hover over the wound to get a better feel of it.
"Bad," you mumbled, "but easily enough to heal." A series of sighs cut through the tension in the room as every member of the Inner Circle let out a breath they had all been collectively holding. "He was stabbed from the front with a blade tipped with an ash arrow, I believe. He pulled the blade from his body, but it has left some splinters behind, draining his powers and stopping him from healing. Infection has set in so I think this happened a couple of days ago, he must have gained enough strength to winnow back here before passing out."
"Do what you need to, Y/N." Rhys's voice was soft but had the undercurrent of a High Lord's command—heal my friend, he commanded. You nodded once before rolling up your sleeves and turning back to Azriel.
For hours, you worked at healing Az, praying to the Mother throughout it all that he would pull through - if only so you could tell him how much you loved him.
There was nothing gentle about the way Azriel surfaced to consciousness. One moment he was swimming in darkness, and the next, his eyes shot open, and he sucked in a huge faltering breath. After years of meticulous training, his senses immediately began to take in his surroundings, and his brain was already calculating his escape route. It was only when he took in the soft bed beneath him, the familiar decorations in the room, and the female sat curled up in a chair beside him that he could recognise that he was home. That he was safe.
Safe.
He felt the twinge in his chest. He knew the moment he moved, a biting pain would radiate throughout his body, so for the moment, he just lay there. His eyes stayed focused on you, on the way you had clearly pushed a chair as close as you could to his bedside. Your hair piled up in a messy bun on the top of your head—tendrils escaping and framing your beautiful face—and a damp rag hung limply from your hand.
His shadows flitted around him, whispering your name to him in a fond way he had never heard them speak of another before. They told him how you had rushed to his side, commanded the room, and stood up for yourself and your capabilities. How you had spent hours upon hours pulling splinters out of the wound and then encouraging his skin to knit together, to heal. How you had nearly spent your entire magic to save him and had then stayed and made sure he battled the infection, sponging cool water onto his skin, talking to him as if he was conscious. 
“Y/N.” He whispered, his voice hoarse from misuse and lack of water. Immediately, your eyelashes fluttered and opened, scanning the room before landing on his awake form. Now that your beautiful eyes were open, he could see the smudge of purple underneath each one, and a pang vibrated through his chest at the thought of this incredible female staying by his side even when you were exhausted. 
"Az." You whispered back, tears begin to shimmer in your eyes as you took in the shadowsinger finally awake. Still pale and far from healed entirely, but awake. 
He winced slightly as he reached out and hesitated somewhat before gently cupping your jaw, stroking his thumb along your cheek and catching the tears slipping free.
"Thank you." You knew his shadows had whispered to him that you had almost depleted yourself for him and risked yourself to heal him. 
"You scared me." His face crumpled at your words as he saw in your eyes the terror you went through for those hours you weren't sure he would make it through. Guilt ate at him for not spotting the trap that had been laid for him.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I was ambushed." He continued to brush his thumb over your skin, and you let the feeling ground you and reassure you that he was here and alive.
"I don't need to know," he heard what you were saying, that you didn't want to know, "do you want to sit up?" 
"Yes, please." You moved swiftly and efficiently, having done this for so many patients before Az. You gently scooped under his arms and lifted his weight so he could move to a sitting position. He winced as the movement tugged on his newly stitched-together skin, but with your expert handling, he wasn't in too much pain. "How long was I out for?"
"A day and a half."
"Shit. I need to debrief with Rhys." He made to sit up further, to swing his legs over the side of his bed, but your hand was instantly there on his shoulder - softly but firmly pushing back. 
"Later. Once you've had some water and food, and I've had a chance to assess your wound again."
"Yes, ma'am." He smirked and gently took the hand that was on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers and running his thumb comfortingly over your knuckles. 
Another soft silence settled over you both, and Azriel found himself glancing down at your connected hands, "That day we met was the first time someone had dared to look closely at my hands. It was also the first time I saw someone examine them and not flinch."
"Your hands are beautiful, Az." Your voice was soft, still shaky from crying. 
"You don't need to say that Y/N." 
"No, I'm serious," you frowned, "your hands are beautiful, and they are strong - just like you." You both watched as you trailed your fingers across the back of his hands, tracing the lines of scar tissue. "I was so scared when Cassian burst into the centre, but that didn't match the terror when I saw you unconscious, and I didn't know if I would get a chance to tell you how much you mean to me." He could hear the emotion building in your voice again. 
"Come here, sweetheart." His face was soft as he held his arm out and motioned for you to come closer. A sob lodged itself from your throat as you shifted, taking care of his wings and injury, to slip onto the bed and move into the warm space of Azriel's body. Immediately, you curled into his side, carefully slipping a hand around his waist to hold him closer. Az curled his arm around you, and the feeling of being in his arms, being held by him, had your heart soaring in your chest. 
"Did it snap in place for you?" he asked softly, and you knew what he was asking—he was tugging at that soft thread that now sat between you. 
"When I saw you lying there unconscious. You?" That moment when your eyes had landed on Azriel on his bed, true terror had speared through you as that bond had snapped into place, and you had realised it was your mate lying there in the space between life and death. 
"That first day, when you held my hands so gently and offered me that salve." His voice held so much emotion, and you felt warmth trickle down that thread and disperse throughout your body as you both acknowledged the bond. 
"Az." He closed his eyes at the sound of his name on your tongue, and he could never get tired of hearing the way you said it as you propped yourself up to look at him. 
"We can talk about it later, about what you want to do and how we move forward. You don't have to make any decisions now." His hand stroked the skin on your exposed arm, the other finally brushing that strand of hair out of your eyes. A frown fell on your face at his words.
"I hope you are talking about how we accept the mating bond and not whether I want to accept it in the first place. I am honoured to be your mate, Azriel, and to get the chance to love you for the rest of our lives." He was sure he had stopped breathing, convinced he was still dreaming. That you would be willing to spend the rest of your life with him, to love him the way he loved you so fiercely. 
"Are you sure?" His voice sounded small, and you couldn't help the smile that danced on your lips. 
"I have never been more sure of something in my life, Az. You deserve this type of love. Let me give it to you." You whispered as you closed the space between you two. Your eyes scanned his face, ready to pull away if he gave the signal that he wasn't ready. But as his breath fanned your lips, your eyes locked, and the hand that had brushed your hair aside cupped your jaw firmly in his large palm, as he surged forward to capture your lips in his. 
Immediately, fireworks erupted behind your eyes at the delicious feeling of his lips moving against yours, wave after wave of pleasure rolling down your spine as you tilted your head back to give him more access. A soft moan slipped past your lips when Azriel gently nibbled on your bottom lip, causing a gasp, which he swallowed expertly with his mouth. You felt Azriel's hand slip from your jaw to cup the back of your neck, holding you firmly as the kiss transformed from something sweet into something else, something more wonton, something close to fire. 
Far too quickly for your liking, Azriel pulled away, gasping for air. Your eyes fluttered open as he rested his forehead against yours, a soft grin dancing on both of your lips as you made eye contact and saw the emotion swimming in both of your eyes. Azriel watched, entranced, as he swiped his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. Your eyelids fluttered as a soft moan escaped again between your lips; Azriel wondered if that was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.  
"My mate. I have waited for over five hundred years for you." He whispered into the heated air between you. 
"I hope I was worth the wait." You joked. Azriel couldn't help but close the space again at your words to press his lips to yours again in a soft kiss this time.
"You definitely are." Your toes curled at his tone, and as his lips still brushed against yours as he spoke. 
"The healer and the spymaster… there's a story there, I think." You grinned as you brushed his hair back off his forehead, wanting to take in every inch of emotion that he was freely displaying on his face. 
"And we will write it together," he promised, and you couldn't help the matching grins on your faces as you leant forward again to join your lips together in another spectacular kiss—knowing that for the rest of your very long life, you would never get tired of kissing Azriel, your mate. 
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thehighladywrites · 4 months
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ACOTAR MEN X READER, USING DOE EYES ON THEM
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summary: you give them doe eyes in order to persuade them into whatever you want
warnings: nsfw, suggestiveness
amara’s note: i love them holy shit but my fav one this time is eris🥹🥹
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Rhysand:
Looks down at you with amusement
He knows what you’re trying to do
“ come on rhyssssss, just one tiny mission. I promise I’ll be super careful, baby”
Unbeknownst to you he agreed the second you asked since he can’t really say no to you
But he loves to see just how desperate you’ll get, how much you’ll beg him.
And paired with those docile eyes? Yeah he’s a goner.
He might seem composed and calm on the outside, but trust me that man is panicking
Rhysand knows he’ll say yes to anything, obey you in every way when you flash him those eyes.
“Okay, but please be careful. If you feel your shoulder hurt again, come home. Abandon the mission and prioritize yourself, do you hear me?”
The moment the words leave his mouth, it hits him like a brick that he agreed to give you a mission when you've barely recovered from an injury.
He never fails to be surprised by your ability to controll him
You words and eyes are powerful indeed…
Azriel:
You’d think he’d have some sort of resistance or something but no
If anything, he folds the quickest of them all
“ Az, could i please-”
“ Yes ”
He doesn’t even let you finish talking, he just looked into your begging eyes and said yes to whatever it is you wanted
There isn’t a thing on this planet that he wouldn’t do for you
But when you pair it with those doe eyes, standing shorter than him as you look up through your lashes with a slight tilt in your head, lips pouting, he gets hard
You look so submissive and innocent, it sparks something primal in him.
“You don’t have to ask me for things, my love, just tell me whatever it is you want and need.”
He’s grabbing you by your waist, pullling you in closer as he kisses you with need.
I’m so serious, this man is down bad
Cassian
He's been working late every day for two weeks, and you've had enough. You miss your mate, and you want him close.
Clad in a slutty little nightgown that screamed ‘give me attention’ , you sauntered into his office
At first, irritation crashes over you like a rogue wave because he isn’t even bothering to lift his head when he greets you. So, you declare it's time for a hands-on approach to spice up the scene.
Rounding his chair, you stand behind him, and with expert hands, you start giving his stiff shoulders a massage. His groans reverberate through the room.
"That feels so good, sweets," his voice is raspy and laced with exhaustion.
Smiling to yourself, your hands travel further down to his chest, where you attempt to unbutton his shirt.
He grabs your wrist, smirking, and drags you so you’re in front of him, raising an eyebrow at your bold move.
Cassian's brain short-circuits as you stand there with big eyes, begging for attention, and then lower yourself to your knees, looking up at him.
“ baby, i missed you so much. Please let me take care of you…”
Stunned, he's left speechless, resorting to a simple nod in response.
Safe to say, you were both pleased and relieved by the end of it all
Lucien:
He isn’t stupid, he KNOWS you use your eyes to get your way
But he literally doesn’t care, he’ll give in to you
He likes watching you work for it though
Standing before him, hands innocently behind your back, you arch your back, pushing your chest out, your eyes widening with a mix of need and desire. Your lips form a seductive pout, silently pleading for him to sweep you away to The Continent.
“is that how you ask for something, my love?”
He's feral, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he watches you, curious to see how far you'll go for a yes.
Little do you know, he's already packed your bags, setting the stage for a surprise journey.
“Please, Luc, I really wanna come with you. Let me convince you.”
You got him WHIPPED, like he’s panicking inside, fucking sweating
“Yeah? How will you convince me?”
Stepping closer to him, you whisper your deprived thoughts, reveling in the way he shudders
Yeah…
You were limping on your trip
Eris:
Eris had never felt so… conflicted in his life
He had never bent over backwards for someone or even let anyone occupy his mind the way you do
The first time you used your eyes to persuade him, he nearly stumbled backward, then attempted to ignore you because he felt weak.
Eris had no idea eyes could be so powerful, and he had a feeling he’d say yes to absolutely everything and anything you wanted
After a few times, he stopped feeling so conflicted and started looking forward to your little manipulation sessions
You had attempted to seduce him all day, but he insisted on working, especially since he had recently ascended to the position of High Lord and had a mountain of paperwork to tackle.
Walking into his office, you strutted around, touching his belongings and casually perusing through the documents on his desk.
Eventually, you got closer to his table and bent over, acting like you needed something.
Eris looked up only to be met with a sight full of your tits. Sighing, he looked up at you with a secret smile,
“I know what you’re doing, sweet thing.”
“ What? Is it a crime to help my mate with his work?”
You look at him with round eyes, your head slightly lowered as your eyes do the talking
His eyes, simmering with desire, traced every curve of your form as a sultry smile played on his lips, creating tension that sizzled with heat.
“Do you remember the last time you gave me those eyes, love?”
Fuck yeah, you do. He had fucked you stupid for hours, in every part of the Forrest House, showing you new levels of pleasure you hadn’t even considered, eyes rolling into the back of your head everytime he pumped into you
Your body shuddered at the memory, body aching for more. Giving him your most desperate, doe-eyed expression, you ask your mate for more
“What if I want it to happen again?”
Giving you a once over with raised brows, his handsome face breaks into a foxy smile as he signals you to come closer
Biting your lips to hide your smile, you oblige, helping him relieve his tension and stress
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incorrectacotarblog · 5 months
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Nesta: I think I’m bi
Cassian: which one?
Nesta: wtf do you mean?
Cassian: bisexual? Bilingual? Bipolar?
Rhysand: I know
Rhysand: a bitch
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