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bunny584 · 9 months

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OBSESSED: GETO

A/N: Suguru is a patient, kind, wonderful, completely out-of-his-mind-insane man. I just had to capture it on paper. (The Yuuta installment is up next, this one was just crawling out of me lol)

C/W: Voyeurism (the real Shibuya incident 🤭) Mature, 18+

Suguru should stop.

He really should fucking stop.

You two are friends. Innocent. Platonic. The very best of friends.

And yet, here he is. Watching a live feed of you walking through your apartment door.

Keys to the left.

Heels kicked off to the right. You’ll come back to those later.

He drapes the bath towel around his neck. Catching the last few almond water droplets from his thick, near waist length hair. He’ll be at your place later; he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was the reason you caught a cold.

And capital punishment for anyone who rouses a single strand of hair on your head.

6:38 PM. A little late today. But it’s a Wednesday and there’s a farmers market in the town square. You always stop for chocolate croissants too late on Wednesdays. The vendor leaves before you’re out of work.

There are four of them on low heat in his oven right now.

Because Suguru now knows the vendor on a first name basis. He’s paid him well over asking price to have 4 chocolate croissants (made 2 batches later than what he sells during the day) be delivered to his place every Wednesday.

Because you’re his friend.

His best friend. And he can’t stand the thought of you going a second without anything you want in this lifetime.

Oh fucking hell.

Your (his) favorite blazer is off. As is the demure mint silk button up that it was covering. Both now wistfully draped over the corner of the kitchen island. He finds the way you throw your things around haphazardly so adorable.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

Like clockwork, Suguru’s left hand drags down his sweatpants, just enough to let his overgrown, painfully hard cock free. It bounces well past his belly button, like a fresh wire spring.

And with cinematic timing, you lean over your kitchen island. In nothing but your lacy bra and snug little pencil shirt. Mindlessly catching up on your social media.

The way your plush, pouty rose lips hang slightly open. And your fucking perfect tits spill over the top of your slightly undersized bra. The lazy S curve from your petite shoulders…tapered down to your waist…back out to the swell of your hips.

“Fuck,” a king cobra hiss escapes his lips.

You’re dizzying. Utterly fucking intoxicating.

Suguru’s chest rises and falls. The pace of his hand around his cock crescendos. Almost angrily.

How could you do this to him?

You’re his best friend for fucks sake.

Precum slicks from his thick, blunt tip. Squelching around his knuckles.

Your back arches into a mini crescent moon. And Suguru might as well have swallowed a blow torch.

“Nnnhhgh fuck, g-god…so…” Sharp drags of air mix with his poorly choked down moans.

His hand grips harder. Hips now rutting up off his desk chair. Hungry. Needy. Imprecise pumps into the slick ring of his fingers. Chasing another high he so desperately wishes you could personally give.

Because the way he feels right now?

The sheer malevolence in his mind. The depravity. You trust him completely and he can’t trust himself with you at all.

Beautiful, enchanting girl.

You reduce him to a perverted, bird brained slave to his desires.

You make him want to violate you. To fuck a cock-shaped hole through the back of your skirt to your cervix.

He wants to pick you up and bounce you along all 10 inches of his length and watch himself bludgeon through to your stomach.

He wants to pin you down and use your pretty little throat as his personal cocksleeve. And watch you garble and cry and drool around his invading length while you struggle for air. And listen to the melodic sounds of you gasping and muffled around his dick when he makes you apologize.

Apologize for being so goddamn irresistible. For bringing this depraved shell of a human being out of him.

Electricity runs the length of his manhood. His breaths are jagged, tendrils of wavey hair matted to his forehead.

The sound of your ringtone slices through the static in his brain. Tethering him back out of his criminal spiral.

“H-hey, pretty.” Suguru forces his baritone to level out. Hand still stroking his length.

Your wispy, girly giggle almost finishes him instantly.

“You’ve gotta stop with the pet names, Suguru! The trail of women in your wake hate me enough as it is.”

“Ha-I c-couldn’t care less.” Talking is harder than breathing for him.

You lean up from the counter and start twirling your hair in a way that makes him want to carve out another galaxy for you. Just for you. Anything for you.

“Movie night? I’ve been wanting to—“

“Yes.” Suguru is almost embarrassed at how quickly he cut you off. Like a fucking dog.

You laugh again and stroll to your refrigerator. He knows you’re lamenting the missed croissants. And he knows you know there’s a 99.99% chance he’s already gotten them for you. Because he is silly putty for you. He crumbles to stardust in your hands.

Because he’s your best friend.

“I got them.” Suguru rasps out. Hands moving so fast up his shaft, precum surging out his tip. He’s so close. So fucking—

“God I love you.”

And he snaps. Hot, thick ropes of his cum splay everywhere. Suguru draws metallic from his bottom lip, clenching down so hard not to give himself away.

You said it so innocently. So platonically. And it shifted his entire world on its axis.

His best fucking friend.

“Love you too, I’ll be there at 8.”

PART. II

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bloodycassian · 1 year

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A journey, continued. Part two of this fic.

!!!!Warnings for Crescent City spoilers!!!!

Scrambling to your feet, you choked a cough. Incense was burning somewhere, making the golden sunrays catch in blue smoke that stained the air. The monks, clothed in yellows and whites held no expression of surprise or disappointment at your arrival. Their arms raised in the air did not falter when you slammed into a shield wall that prevented you from leaving. True terror seeped into your bones. Not one of them would make eye contact with you, even when you screamed and thrashed against the barrier that separated you. Tears leaked down you face, and your breath came in ragged pants. The wall pushed you back, towards the center of the crowd. Their song reached a higher octave, and their hands went back to their sides - all of them synchronized in the movement. Practiced and precise. Would this be a sacrifice? Were you nothing more than a caged animal to them? Mind racing, you analyzed the room, looking for any way out of this mess. Tall ceilings arched into the sky, but nothing beyond the thick crowd of singers could be seen.

The song pitched into a higher note, the momentum of it building until it reached a crescendo that forced you to cover your ears, wincing and praying to the mother that they’d stop. The air seemed to warm, and drums sounded somewhere far off. A flash of cold spread over your body, and portal of black opened beside you.

The shield pushed you towards it, and though it was somehow familiar, you shied away from it. The inky black disappeared, revealing, a body, limp on the floor. With horror, your breath left you at the sight of the wings and light of blue siphons wrapping around himself protectively.

Azriel - you couldn’t breathe. Had he watched what had happened and tried to follow? You rushed to him, hot tears welling in your eyes. His face was pale, siphons dulled, a pool of blood forming beneath him. Kneeling beside him, you checked his pulse and muttered a curse. Weak, but still alive. Still alive.

His eyes fluttered, registering his surroundings to thoroughly enough to hiss out an insult- “Fucking leeches-” Azriel’s groan came out as a pant, his hands clutching his ribs on the right side.

The monks followed you forward, the shield pushing further and further in until you were forced directly over Azriel’s body.

No.. following where the injured male below you had glanced, you noticed the red sashes banded across their chests. Mother above… how you hadn’t noticed it before was a wonder.

They were Asteri. Blood hungry fae from the continent that butchered their own kind for their own life force. They were an enigma on Prythian, a far off threat too small to ever garner attention. But now that you were face to face with their chilling song of Death… you’d wished you’d taken the stories much more seriously.

They chanted, the song growing louder and louder, ears ringing you refused to let go of Azriel’s leathers - afraid that somehow he would disappear beneath you. His head lolled to the side, casting curled hair over his long lashes. His brow furrowed, lips parted, possibly saying some silent prayer before you both died. It was surprisingly boyish, and if you weren’t terrified you may have been able to appreciate it more.

Gods if you’d had any time, perhaps you could have taken everything back that you’d said to Cassian. You shouldn’t have opened the door.. Shouldn’t have even asked him about the other female he’d brought home. If you’d just wallowed in bed, this never would have happened.

Cassian… Why wasn’t he here? He’d watched you get taken, how was it that Azriel had been the one to be cast along side you in this atrocious ceremony? Had Cassian truly let you be stolen away, right in front of him? Sadness roiled with rage in the pit of your stomach, along with the fear and finality of death coming for you.

The knowledge that your life would soon be forfeit for the creatures before you was a peaceful, yet frantic thing. The fear quivered in the background of your mind, while the foreground stood tall, daring death to throw itself at you as you stood courageous.

In a sudden change of pace, the singing ceased, and the drumbeat picked up tempo. The relief from the tone was immediate, but terrifying. If they’d finished singing, what came next? You shook Azriel, hoping to wake him. The wall pressed against your legs. Would it crush you? Would it press your bodies so close together that you’d suffocate?

One of Azriel’s scarred hands curled around one of your ankles, the other in a fist. The tendons of his wrist sharp against his skin, a coat of pure black writhing around the limb.

Small footsteps clicked against the steps directly in front of you, then stopped. You glanced up from Azriel, peering through lashes clumped together with tears. A small male stood there, a book in hand. He flipped it open, not even pretending to spare you a glance while he read.

“The price of our eternal life-”

Azriel’s hand clawed into your ankle, scraping downwards. Skin peeled away, blood seeped into the air, and the room exploded into nothingness. Black surrounded everything, and pressure forced your ears to pop wildly while the barrier shattered around you.

Your hands left Azriel’s tunic only to cover your damaged ears. You were sure there was blood there, but your attention was fixed upon Azriel’s figure before you. Even injured he took on a defensive stance in front of you, wings held high. He seemed so fragile, though the sheer size of him was a wonder. The light shone through his wings, revealing every tendon and vein that could so easily be cut through. Every scar he’d endured over his life, there on display for them all to see. A strange, protective feeling washed over you. They shouldn’t be seeing him like this. Not ever. No one should. The shadowsinger didn’t have to show his prowess like this, never had to. Yet here he was… making himself a cobra among mice.

Half the Asteri were on the ground, some were fleeing up the steps in the distance and others held blades made of some silvery metal that emitted light.

“I’ve slaughtered one of you before and I’ll take a thousand more.” His voice came out guttural, like three other beings spoke through him. Even with your damaged hearing, the voice was frightening. Goosebumps covered your flesh, and you pushed your way up form the floor. A few of their mouths moved, but your ears ached so badly-

Azriel folded a wing around you, pulling you towards him and against his bloodied leathers. A small patch of siphon bandage lay at the wound, glowing brightly against your sleep clothes. Had you truly woken only a short while ago? Had the conversation with Cassian been this very same day? Your head spun.

“If you see me again, pray to whatever gods watch over your kind.” Azriel’s voice was low, a pointed tactic. He did not fear these beings. He’d only been afraid for you when that pure shadow had exploded from him. He reigned in that darkness now, his hand flexing while his shadows circled closer and closer, leaving the life eaters to cower before him - or plan an attack. Knowing now that they intended to seal your life from you for their own… you wanted to vomit.

Azriel’s wing left you for the briefest moment, but was replaced by his arm. He pulled you with him as he leapt upwards, with a powerful beat of his wings that had your stomach lurching.

The skies over the continent were warmer than over Prythian. Azriel explained in a pained voice that it was because of the desert reflection in the south, that kept the area warm even at night. He’d managed to fly for a few hours before you noticed the blood seeping through his siphon bandage, and he finally agreed to allow a break.

He would have refused to let you leave his sight, if he were in better condition. But he’d bled enough for him to become dizzy. You rushed to find any familiar herbs, along with any vines to wrap around him. Pressure would halt the bleeding long enough that you could find medicine, unless there was nothing useful on this damned continent.

You rushed back to him, and nearly fell to your knees at the sight of him digging into the wound with his own filthy fingers. “Do you know nothing about basic-” You began to scold, unloading your shirt-full of leaves and roots.

He grunted, and sighed. “Got it.” He held up a small, thin piece of bloodied metal, then flicked it into the shrubs. You stared at him, mouth agape while he laid back, seemingly relieved. You stared, waiting for some sort of explanation, but only received a wet hand on your own. “Pack it nicely, but not too deep. There’s probably more pieces-”

“What happened?” You demanded. He wouldn’t just tell you there were more pieces of a knife inside of him and just have you accept that. Though he smiled, you saw the pain there. The lingering effects of what he’d just put himself through, and whatever had happened back on that sacrifice stage.

“The short or long version?” He grunted, pulling himself into a better position to watch as you bound ropes of vine around and around to fashion something durable enough to keep tight on him.

A glare made him smile, and he blew out a breath. “I was once… more than Rhysand’s shadowsinger. I was an assassin, of sorts..”

“How is one only partly an assassin?”

“Very carefully.” He chuckled, then hissed when you pressed the first of the herbs into his wound. It was a clean gash, a knife certainly. Sharpened to kill, but missed just enough to leave him living. “There is a lot more in this world… in all the worlds than most know about. Everything that happens out there, can always effect us. The Asteri are one of those things. Filthy parasites-”

“Are you saying that that cult isn’t from here-”

“Exactly- yes” His face twisted in agony as you pressed the last of the herbs in. “get it closed please” He rushed the words together in a breath.

“How-” You stammered, glad to keep your hands busy, because your mind was lagging far behind what he told you.

“Cassian never told you the history of Illyrians?” He panted a moment, taking your silence as answer enough. “Because we are neither fae or human.. Or shifter or god or any other lesser creature… many think we’re something else. Something to be even more feared than the Asteri, because we can reproduce fairly easily in comparison.”

“They… cant?”

He shook his head, beads of sweat making the hair cling to his forehead. “They need an immense amount of power to…. Create another one of them. That is all they seek, is power. In politics, history, monarchies in every world they inhabit. Some believe that Illyrians are related to their power, and think we are their dark cousins. Born of another kind of evil. That we will be more dangerous and powerful than them, because they claim to only seek their own lives among us. Not many understand what they mean, fully. The only life they want is the ones they can suckle from the most powerful sacrifices they can get.”

Your hands shook as you wound the bandage around him, making sure it was tight. Cassian had left you out of such a vital part of him. You hadn’t really given him a chance before… but this was crucial to the history of Prythian. How could none of this be in any texts or scrolls-

“Their influence was indisputable at one point. Any negative history about them was wiped from our lore. Then the war came. The first war, where none questioned who were pulling the strings and thousands died.” He paused a long moment, thinking over his next words. “I killed one of their kind on the last day of battle. They know me. They remembered what I did, and the only reason we’re not dead right now is because they were too shocked to attack.”

A few hours later, the bleeding from his wound had dissipated greatly. Color was brought back to his skin, and the pained look upon his face slowly smoothed. You fetched new leaves, re-dressing the wound. His hand brushed over yours when you pressed lightly against the gash, a pleading look in his eyes.

The pale fading light made him seem so much more fragile, breakable. Though the scars on his arms and hands defied that feeling, it seemed that he’d softened somehow. Like he was about to break into a million tiny pieces, and you’d be the one to reassemble him.

You didn’t flinch from it. Nor when his fingers tangled with your own over his wound.

Your breathing stopped. The rustling of foliage caught your attention, and you readied for an attack. Azriel was up in an instant, despite the lack of pressure against the gash. It wouldn’t matter if the Aserti had found you. But you wouldn’t go down without a fight. You eyed the rocks scattered around the clearing, noting what ones you could use as weapons.

Shadows shuddered and coiled around you, curling around your legs like a cat. Tears brimmed in your eyes, unwilling to accept that this moment may be the end. That you wouldn’t get to know more about anything Azriel was speaking of. That you wouldn’t get to know him more. In the few hours you’d spent together, he’d shown just how loyal and trusting he was with you, and it was a strange change of pace.

The shrubs ripped apart in a glow of red and black. Darkness flung out over the area and you shielded your face. Azriel stepped before you, splaying his wings out and shielding your body. Here he was, yet again ready to defend you though he was injured. You peeked around that massive wing, nearly collapsing at the sight there. Rhysand appeared from the forest shadow, along with Cassian right behind. They hacked through the shrubs with the glow of their power, both their weapons disappearing the moment they sighted you and Azriel.

Cassian rushed to you, arms extended while Rhys winnowed straight to Azriel. Crushing arms squeezed the breath from your lungs, Cassian’s relieved words becoming background noise as you watched a portal of black open, and Rhysand escort Azriel through. You pushed away from Cassian, squirming in his grasp. “Put me down, stop!” You smacked his chest until the point was clear.

“Take me to him.” You demanded, panic cascading over your senses. Relief had been washed away the moment Azriel had left your side.

“Rhys is taking him to a healer. I’ll fly us.” He smiled, oblivious to the irritation in your tone. Tears welled in his eyes, and your heart softened for the briefest moment. Cassian had likely tried his damndest to find you, but all you could think of was Azriel’s injuries. That you should be with them, taking care of the shadowsinger, telling the healers he was going to see about the injury. Doing what you could to protect him back.

“I-” You began, trying to push away the snap of tension that fired down the bond. “He saved me.” You muttered, looking to the ground. Angry tears fell, unsolicited and hot against your cheeks. “Where were you?”

A silence followed your bitter question, then a scoff. “You think I didn’t bother finding you? I got to Rhys as quick as I could!” He threw his arms in the air, heat coiling around your shared bridge. “Az joined you because he was reckless and went after that bastard-”

The Illyrian. The male that’d taken you. The memories came flooding back. “Whos Kali?”

His eyes met yours with searing intensity when you looked back up. His arms fell to his sides, his lip curling at one side. “She’s no one. Where did you even hear that name?”

His defensiveness made you smug. “Apparently she’s someone quite important. The Illyrian that sent me into that hell said-”

“Wait… where did you go? Have you not been here?”

You scowled. Of course he would avoid the question. “Just take me to Azriel. I dont need to explain myself to him.”

There was a long, tense stare off, then he was hoisting you into his arms. The straining patience along the bond was exhausting. Your body was ridgid, not a word spoken as he brought you closer and closer to Velaris. The chilled mountain peaks you coasted past seemed bearable in comparison to Cassian’s frigid presence at the other side of the bond.

Thankfully, Azriel had managed to transport you within a few hours of the city. The moment you touched down in front of the infirmary, Cassian was storming in behind you, ready to demand answers. The pale look upon Rhysand’s face forced him to pause, his eyes immediately going to Azriel’s slightly hunched posture. Your heart lurched in your chest, straining for him like a magnet.

“Cassian, we have some things to discuss.” Rhys offered his hand, but the stern look he gave his brother seemed to communicate that it was more of an order than a request. He obeyed, but not before giving you a long glare that told you your previous conversation was not over.

“Still alive. Good.” You nodded at the shadowsinger, who gingerly began walking towards the nearest bridge. His apartment was only a few blocks away, thank the Mother. You weren’t sure if you could carry him if you had to.

“The nurses weren’t as good as you. That leaf and vine method was really something.”

“Holistic medicine.” You smiled. Joking with him like this came easy. Simple. So much so that it left you wondering how you’d gone this long without talking to him as much as you were now.

It took double the time to get to his home with his ginger pacing, but you didn’t complain. Not when you talked and learned about each other the entire way. It didn’t seem like long enough. Like his words and the way he described things made time slip away like bottles of wine. Perhaps his presence was intoxicating you.

Azriel’s apartment was minimally decorated, the only artwork upon the brick walls being a dark painting full of greys and black, but the darkest part in the center of a set of wings expanded, a soft glow of blue emitting from that center form. It seemed cold, despite the rich tones of the furniture.

You helped him on to the couch, pushing a pillow firmly behind his back so he wouldn’t have to strain to get up. Though he protested, he allowed it.

“Thank you for this.” He said, pulling the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapping it around himself. “Cassian wasn’t happy with us, was he?”

“Cassian is a liar, I owe him nothing.”

“He’s your mate.”

“Does that mean anything, when he abandons me and refuses to tell me who Kali is?”

His face reddened. So he knew something of the name. “Tell me.” You demanded, tossing a match into the tinder. The flame caught, crackling along the thin cut kindling. “Tell me, please.” You repeated, taking your attention away from the flame long enough to look at him. He scratched the back of his head, debating internally.

“It wasn’t his fault that he wasnt there for you… Aside from that, Kali was a long time ago.”

You stoked the fire with a few larger pieces before standing, and putting yourself directly in front of Azriel. “Tell me.” You said, voice deadly calm. Your firm outer tone hid the pleading beneath, and if he noticed he didn’t say anything.

He sighed, and lifted the blanket, offering you the seat beside him. Wearily, you joined. He wouldn’t be telling you this without you joining him. “She was a lover. One of his many, and-” He broke off. “It’s not my story to tell.”

You shot him a look, and he held up his hands.

“She was with an Illyrian male, betrothed. But Cassian hadn’t known that, and when he met her in a dance - bar, they ended up..connecting. She got pregnant with his child. She was sure it was his, and when she returned to her betrothed, and he didn’t kill her for it, they started planning.” He slicked his hair back, then flexed his fingers in his lap. He hadn’t wanted to speak of this, you reminded yourself. “He had wanted a child. If he could raise a kid with Cassian’s kind of power… that’s the kind of stuff that makes kings in our land. If Cassian and I weren’t a part of the High Lord’s Court, we’d be lording over the Steppes ourselves.” He stared at the flames for a long moment.

Your jaw clenched, and you waited for him to continue. “Cassian keeps these things to himself because it’s painful for him to remember, but I don’t understand how someone could forget…”

“She grew, but the babe grew faster. She saw a healer every day, but they couldn’t get it to stop. They offered to end it for the babe there, but she refused. She wanted it, said he was a strong boy and that The Mother would save them both.” He shook his head, eyes on the fire but distant. “They both died. The male that took you was Kali’s betorthed. Mikail. When Cassian saw you were gone, and he was still there… I think all that rage over Kali’s death came out then. Mikail died bloody, but quick. Rhys showed me it all, straight from Cas’ memory while Madja was healing me.”

His arms tightened around himself, as if he were holding himself together to tell you this. You waited a long moment, watching the fire together before speaking. “You knew her..” You nodded, wondering how he’d felt about Cassian bedding a female he’d clearly cared about.

“Everyone did.” He nodded, his voice rough when he said it. “She was a dancer, my friend.” He wiped at his nose, but you didn’t turn to him. It was easier this way. Like you both spoke only to yourselves. “I introduced them. I thought they’d be a good match, even mates possibly. She was… a lot like you.” He nodded, smiling down at the floor. “But she was reckless, careless until she had that child in her.”

There was another long moment of silence, comfortable with the crackling fire. Sadness permeated the room, but it wasn’t hostile or tense like it’d been during the flight with Cassian. “I’m sorry.” You offered. It was the only thing to say.

He nodded slowly, and pushed the blanket towards you. He pushed off the couch gently, and hobbled to the fire. You didn’t stop him, didn’t want to take this small action of independence from him as he tossed another round of wood on to the coals.

“I have an extra room, if you’d like to stay. It may be cold, but there’s extra blankets-”

“I’d like that. Thank you.” You pulled the blanket to the side and offered him the seat back, just as he’d done for you.

Your hand grazed over his when you placed the cover back over him. Neither of you flinched away, and when your palm lay flat atop the knit, he placed his own beside yours. Your heart skipped, and in an instant of daring adrenaline, you scooted your hand over until you both moved in sync, tangling your pinky and ring fingers together.

#reader x azriel #azriel x reader #acotar fic

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