#cassian/reader

[illyrianbitch]

And I'm Thinking About Your Lips

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: You and Cassian have been best friends since you were teenagers-- just friends. But one night at Rita's changes everything and now you cant breathe when you're around him and he can't stop imagining how you'd taste.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! like porn with plot aka: best friends to lovers, sexual tension, alcohol use, drunken handsy moments, two dummies in love, male masturbation, unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), dirty talk, sex sex sex! we love sex!!

Word Count: 19k (a biggie!)

a/n: heavily inspired by my fav song mistakes like this by prelow. give it a listen for the vibes ;) I was going to make this multiple parts but decided against it. lets imagine Rita's like a lil more modern club okay mwuah enjoy.

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Rita's was loud.

On busy nights like these, the place was a complete sensory overload– live music with thumping bass and swirling laughter. The air was thick with the mingling scents of sweat, perfume, and the occasional waft of arousal, a delicious smell that often lingered in Rita’s. You loved nights like these, loved the energy that came with finally being able to let go. You let out a content sigh as you watched people dance across the dimly lit club, enjoying the music that vibrated through their bones.

You stood next to Cassian at the bar, leaning against the smooth surface as you awaited the drinks you had ordered. He was in the middle of telling you a story-- or at least you think it was a story. You couldn't tell.

"What?" you exclaimed loudly, leaning forward in a futile attempt to decipher his response. Frustration etched across your face, you took a step back, gazing up at Cassian. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you shook your head while gesturing emphatically to your ears. "I can't hear," you mouthed, hoping he'd understand.

Cassian's initial confusion gave way to realization, his mouth forming a distinct "Ooooh." Leaning down, he bridged the distance between you, his lips hovering above your ear  to deliver his words in a loud whisper.

And then it happened—a giggling drunk couple bumped into Cassian, disrupting his balance. His lips, which had initially hovered near your ears, now made a brief but intimate contact, running along the shell of your ear. 

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins, the warmth permeating your entire body. Or perhaps it was the pulsating energy of the crowded dancefloor. Whatever it was, you felt it—a shiver tracing a path down your neck, following the curve of your spine. Awareness dawned on you—his proximity, his breath on your ears, the almost electric closeness of your cheeks, the way his disheveled hair framed his face.

He pulled away, a smile playing on his lips. He mouthed something, but you were lost in a daze, barely registering that those plump, red lips were actually forming words.

"Y/n?" he called out, raising his voice to be heard over the music. "You got that?"

Blinking, you shook your head, dispelling the lingering traces of your thoughts. A smile curved on your lips as you replied, "Yup." 

You had no idea what he said, hadn't caught a word of what he was whispering in your ear. But at that moment, it didn't seem to matter. Internally, you chastised yourself— it's just the alcohol, that's all it is. After all, Cassian had always been attractive. You just happened to be drunk and noticed it a little bit more. Appreciating the beauty of your best friend, completely platonically. 

The bartender returned with your ordered drinks, placing them on the bar with a lingering gaze that hinted at an appreciation for more than just the cocktail he had crafted—one directed entirely at you. Your attention, however, was occupied by the lively atmosphere around you as you spared the bartender a quick glance, grabbing your drink. Cass, on the other hand, picked up on the admiration, staring at the bartender and tucking away the information in the back of his mind.

As you both turned to leave, Cassian's movements synchronized with yours and his arm rubbed against your own, sending a subtle brush of warmth through you. You paused for a beat. The warmth was still there. You hated it. A realization dawned – you needed more alcohol. 

With a silent determination, you gave Cassian a "one moment" gesture, holding up a finger. Cass watched as you turned back toward the bar, leaning forward to catch the bartender's attention. When he turned to face you, you placed your hand lightly over his. 

"Actually," you said with a smile, “Can we get two extra shots? Of your strongest." 

The bartender gave you a smile back and nodded in acknowledgment. In no time, two additional shots, robust and potent, joined the lineup, arranged neatly on the polished surface. Cassian frowned, flickering his gaze between you and the shots. You felt his presence as he leaned in and instinctively took a step back, not turning to look him in the eyes.

“We’re taking another round?” 

“Nope.” You said, popping the p. Without hesitation, you downed them both with a practiced ease. Finally, you looked up at him, making a face as the liquor made its way down your throat. “Those were for me.” Your voice came out in a croak.

Cassian raised an eyebrow in surprise, a playful smirk playing on his lips. 

“Someone is getting hammered tonight."

You simply nodded, a nonchalant "mhmm" escaping your lips. The alcohol ignited a warmth that spread through your veins, momentarily overshadowing any reservations. With the edge taken off, you were ready to rejoin your friends– with the exception of Amren, who was “too busy” to join tonight. 

Cassian led the way back to the booth, his hand finding its familiar place at the small of your back. Cass always did this when at Ritas, a gesture to ensure that you weren’t swept away by the sea of people. Yet, this time, it felt different. As he guided you through the lively crowd, you couldn't ignore the heat that radiated from his touch. Your heart quickened its pace. Its the alcohol-induced haze, you told yourself. Thats all. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Two hours later, Rita’s was still pulsating with energy and you were absolutely wasted. The vibrant atmosphere seemed to blend seamlessly with the warmth of your intoxication and everything around you seemed to echo with life.

You, Mor, and Feyre slowly returned to the booth for a much-needed break, hands interlaced with one another and glasses still full, waiting to be enjoyed. In your inebriated state, you teetered back and forth as you made your way to the booth, plopping down next to your best friend.

At your arrival, Cassian sat up right, waiting for you to do what you always did—lay your head on his shoulder. And, like clockwork, you fell into place, your head finding its familiar spot on Cassian's shoulder. 

"Look who decided to join the land of the living," Cassian teased as he nudged you gently. You felt him adjust his seating, his wings moving to accommodate your presence. The booths at Rita’s were large, the seats extra wide and spacious— for many reasons. You didn’t think too long about the ways people used the extra space. 

Instead, you chuckled at Cassian’s comment, the alcohol-infused haze making everything seem delightfully amusing. "Jus' exploring alternate universes on the danceflooooooor." 

The sound of your voice and the way you dragged out your words set Cassian into a small fit of laughter, a rich melody that blended with the music. The sound vibrated through his body and you felt his chest and his shoulders rise with it. The laughter resonated in your own as a result.

"Alternate universes, huh?” He asked, “That why you were grinding on Mor like a horned-up teenager?"

Craning your head slightly to look up at him, you gasped dramatically, feigning offense. He was already looking at you, his face tilted to the side to meet your eyes. There was a clear sense of amusement written into his face, the corners of his mouth turned up, a certain glow in his eyes. 

"I was not! How dare you judge me?" With a determined glint in your, now narrowed, eyes you added, "I never judge how you practically dry hump every woman you dance with."

Your best friend's lips curled into a grin, and his eyebrows lifted for a moment. There was a playful roll of his lips before he nodded, slightly chuckling. You got him there. 

"Okay, whatever."

You watched as he took a sip of his drink with his other hand, then lowered it to rest the glass on his knee. Leaning back a bit, a small giggle escaped your lips at nothing in particular. Then, you let out a laugh. 

"You're wasted." Cassian stated matter of factly, turning his head to look at where yours lay on his shoulder. Your laughter continued for a moment, ending with a sound of content. 

"Maybe." You replied as you leaned back a little, your head lolling backwards. Your eyes, framed by thick lashes, found Cassian's. You looked at him for a moment, taking in his face, his intense gaze focused on you.

"You're real attractive, Cass," you murmured, the words carrying a sincerity that caught him off guard.

Cassian didn't know why his heart leaped at your words. This wasn't something new. You had complimented him multiple times before. He knew he was attractive-- he knew you knew he was attractive. But there was something different this time, something in the way you bit your lip, gnawing at it with your teeth, the genuine look in your eyes.

"You think so?" he said. You wondered how his voice could be so soft, yet so husky. How was that possible?

You nodded lazily, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Mhm," you affirmed.

Cassian's gaze shifted, and suddenly he found himself studying your face. Your head tilted back, he took in the sight of your lips, the stunning makeup enhancing your features. You were gorgeous, he’d always known this-- everyone who saw you thought the same. But you were best friends, and the strength of your bond lessened the urge to explore thoughts of you that went farther than simple observation.

"You're not too bad yourself."

You perked up a bit.

"Yeah?" you asked eagerly.

Cassian gave a chuckle at your enthusiastic reply, noticing the way your eyes lit up behind their drunken haze. But before he could say anything more, Mor appeared, her hands outstretched, ready to pull you back onto the dancefloor.

"Y/n," She said, "Come danceeeee."

You looked up at her, your body slowly moving up right.

"But Cass and I-"

Mor whined.

"Feyre abandoned me for Rhys and Azriel is too busy being a gargoyle."

You snickered at her words, your gaze drifting over to where the Shadowsinger sat across the booth, a small grin on his mouth as he brought his cup to his lips. Then, you looked towards the dance floor, a sea of moving bodies with each person lost in the rhythm of the music. Sure enough, your gaze settled on Feyre and Rhysand, deeply entwined as they danced against one another, their bodies swaying together.

You returned your gaze to Mor, with her outstretched hands and a pouty face. You grinned, and she let out a small shriek of excitement at your wordless answer.

You placed a hand on Cassian's thigh, giving a small pat as you forced yourself up, the other hand in Mor's grasp. Cass held his hands up to stabilize you.

You turned to face him, your body slightly swaying.

"See ya later, Commander."

You gave him a drunken salute, the gesture slow and sloppy, before Mor whisked you away to the dance floor.

Cassian watched your figure as you retreated to the dance floor, unable to look away. He could still feel the lingering warmth on his thigh from where your hand had rested, as if an imprint of your touch had been left behind– he half-expected to undo his pants and find a charred handprint, a mirror image of yours. Your delicate hands, your soft skin, your slender fingers..... the thought sent a jolt of desire through him.

Stop it. Cassian's brain scolded him.

But still, his gaze drifted to where you were lost in the lively throng of bodies. The live music pulsed around you, guiding your movements as you moved with your usual demeanor of grace. The way you swayed to the rhythm, the fluidity of your gestures, it was mesmerizing. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to dance with you the way you were on Mor, without the barriers of friendship. To feel your body pressed against his, to lose himself in the rhythm and the heat that seemed to radiate from both of you.

His eyes trailed your body, taking in every curve and movement, and suddenly, he began to notice the way other males and females were doing the same. 

He felt a growing anger stir within him, an emotion he had never felt before, not when it came to you. It was a possessive rage, a primal instinct that told him he needed to protect you from these observers. The bodies around you, their gazes lingering on your body, only fueled the fire within him. They shouldn't be looking at you like that. They weren't worth your time--- weren't worthy of being able to admire you the way they were. He should do some-

His musings were abruptly interrupted by a chuckle from Azriel.

The sound jolted Cassian back to the present, and he turned to find his brother looking at him with an amused expression. Annoyance crept into Cassian's features as he asked,

"What?"

Az's amusement deepened, and he replied nonchalantly, "Nothing."

Although Azriel's response seemed innocent, there was a knowing glint in his eyes, a small smirk that he covered by bringing his cup to his lips. Cass was well aware that Az was hinting at something, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to care. All he could focus on was the uncomfortable heat in his stomach, feeling as if he was suffering from intense heartburn. But funnily enough, the feeling only grew heavier when he looked at you. 

Azriel down his drink before grabbing Cassian’s attention.

 "Let's get you another drink."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The night had surrendered to the early hours of the morning, casting a dreamlike glow over the city as you and your friends stumbled out of the vibrant chaos that was Rita's. The streets, now filled with the remnants of the night's revelry, echoed with the laughter and inebriated chatter of others who were also bidding farewell to a night spent well.

You walked alongside Cas and Mor, Feyre and Rhysand a few steps ahead. Azriel had left an hour prior; a smug expression adorned his face as he escorted a striking male with brown hair and green eyes-- the very one who had generously bought him drinks throughout the night.

You looked at the mated pair ahead of you, Rhysand's arm draped casually around Feyre’s shoulder. You watched as he leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Feyre suddenly stilled and turned around, an evident blush lingering on her cheeks. Rhysand looked at her with an amused twinkle in his eyes, then he turned his gaze toward your group, mirthful mischief etched across his face.

"We're not feeling that well, so we're going to go sleep." Rhysand declared, his words dripping with a level of unseriousness that made you want to laugh. But, not even Rhys could take himself seriously, the corners of his mouth soon turning up to form a pearly-white grin. 

Feyre playfully slapped his chest, but the grin on Rhysand’s face grew even wider, brightened by a child-like glee. With a final shared glance, the mated pair left. You smiled to yourself, thinking about how evident the couple’s love was and how much it made you want something similar. 

Before you knew it, only you and Cassian were left. Mor, who had been walking side by side with you both, had halted abruptly. A smile played on her lips. "I've got somewhere I want to go," she announced cryptically, winking before disappearing.

The intoxication in your veins rendered winnowing out of the question – too drunk to focus, and Cassian couldn't fly without risking an aerial mishap that involved either vomit or an unexpected plummet. Both options were less than ideal, so you both continued walking, the cool night air beginning to clear the remnants of your alcohol-induced hazes.

Cassian watched as you moved with a certain lightness, the effects of the drinks still lingering in your movements. Suddenly, you spun around, catching him off guard. His hands flew out instinctively, prepared to catch you if you lost your balance, but you paid no attention to the movement. Instead, you looked up at him with a small frown.

"Hey," you began, your words still slightly slurred. "How come everyone's getting some tonight, and here we are, feeling left out?"

He watched you for a moment, your stature, your slow blinks, how intensely you were staring at him. Cassian grinned. His eyes, veiled by a layer of playful charm, fixated on yours.

"Well, I'm right here,” He declared, “Say the word, and I'm all yours, allll night long.”

Cassain ensured that his words were delivered with a teasing tone, a tone he prayed masked the underlying desire he felt. You didn’t notice. All you could focus on was the burning in your chest, the way your heart tugged at his response. This was nothing out of the usual, Cassian flirted with you all the time. Cassian flirted with everyone.

So you let out a laugh, the sound echoing through the quiet night.

"Oh, please. You're such a pig," you retorted playfully, adding a mockingly dramatic eye roll.  Then you swallowed, forcing your next words out. "Never. Could you imagine?”

You didn’t want to see his face as he answered the question, too worried that it would hurt you in some way if he reacted appalled and disgusted. So, you turned yourself around and began walking again, focusing on the cobblestone road underneath your feet, at the cold air starting to bite at you. 

There was a quiet pause, and then you heard the small laughter of your best friend. He wouldn’t tell you where his mind wandered, now, when he thought of you, wouldn’t acknowledge the hurt that nestled itself quietly in the recesses of his thoughts.

“No. I couldn’t.”  

Another pause. Despite being out in the open, breathing in the fresh night air, you began to feel stuffy. A sense of discomfort wrapped itself around you. 

"How come you didn't go home with anyone?" You asked. You gnawed at your lip, waiting for his response, observing his reaction from the corner of your eye.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. He stopped to look at you, and you stilled, turning slightly to face him. When he gave you no response, you let out a small sigh.

"Y’know, like that one redhead giving you eyes back at the bar." 

You did your best to disguise the subtle irritation lingered in your tone, but beneath it, you felt a sense of bubbling jealousy. How was Cass so unaware? How come you were so aware?

Cassian's eyes widened slightly as he scrambled to recall the moment. Panic briefly flickered in his eyes as he realized he hadn't even noticed anyone else, his attention consumed by you. “Ohhh, her?” He finally responded, “Nah, tonight was just about hanging out with all of you. Y’know, family time.”

You felt a smile tugging at your cheeks. Family time didn’t stop Azriel, or Feyre and Rhysand. In your gut, you knew that it hadn’t stopped Mor either, the look on her face as she left screamed of a sudden lustful advance. Cassian’s answer deeply satisfied a part of you, for reasons you couldn't decipher at the moment. Your smile widened when he gave you a fond smile of his own. 

“Big ole’ sap.” You teased, affectionately nudging him with your shoulder.

You fell into another comfortable rhythm, walking alongside each other in silence as the echoes of night behind you slowly faded. Cassian could hear you humming faintly to yourself and a warmth filled his chest. You often hummed when you walked. When you were drunk, it was always a guarantee. Cass used to use it as a meter for your sobriety, detecting how drunk you were based on how horrible your humming was. Currently, it sounded angelic. But he wasn’t sure if he could trust his own judgment, not now, not when it came to you. Even as you walked side-by-side, he felt the urge to get you closer, made the effort to ensure your hands swung next to one another— that you bumped into his bicep every now and then as you walked. What was wrong with him? And why did you smell so good?

Cass cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly to look at you.

“So, uh, speaking of people, why didn’t you go home with the bartender?”

You stopped abruptly, caught off guard by question. Cassian, too, halted in his tracks, a subtle maneuver to avoid colliding with your shoulder. Turning to face him, your eyes sought his in the dim light. "The bartender?" Confusion furrowed your brow.

His gaze, laden with an unspoken curiosity, met yours. He chuckled softly, shaking his head.  "Don’t tell me you didn’t notice.”

You paused, your thoughts weaving through the blurred memories of the night. Every image was muddled in your mind, a fusion of moving bodies and your hands picking up new drinks. God, how many did you take? You couldn’t remember. Your memory was hazy, unfocussed. There was only one thing in your mind that shone in perfect clarity– only one person. And it wasn’t the bartender. 

“Guess I didn’t.” You shrugged.

Cassian thought back to the bartender, a handsome male with short brown hair and blue eyes. The way he had stared at you, the way he had smiled. Cass’s mind found the memory of you reaching over the bar, your hand over the bartender’s, leaning in to request another drink. A flash of your smile. He fought the urge to make a face.

"Yup,” He said, “Gave you eyes the entire night. Half surprised they didn't fall out and follow you home."

He didn’t intend to sound bitter, didn’t mean for it to drip from the words he spoke. He couldn’t help it. But, by the look on your face, you hadn’t noticed. Yet again. Cassian let out a breath. It took a moment for his words to settle into your mind, and then you let out a snicker at the image painted by them. He grinned at the sound. 

"Well then, I'm really surprised I didn't notice." 

And you were. You were usually good at these things, at recognizing advances. You picked up on lingering gazes and touches that were one second too long. If Cassian was referring to the bartender you were thinking of, then he had been very attractive. On another night, you would have definitely noticed— and definitely taken the opportunity. But not tonight. Tonight was different, felt different. 

"Can't blame him," Cassian remarked, a touch of sincerity in his voice. "You are beautiful."

You blinked, your mouth parting slightly in shock. The words sent a flutter to your chest, and you could feel heat on your cheeks. You shook it off, letting out a sound of amusement and disbelief. It came out as a quiet snort.  "Shut up."

 "Not even mentioning all the males and females that were ogling you while you danced with Mor."

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You were sure that the blush on your cheeks was on full display and only hoped that Cassian would assume it was caused by the chilly night air. You couldn't look at him. Instead, you shook your head, your eyes looking into the distance. Then, you rolled them and scoffed. "Oh, please. Now you’re just lying.”

You felt his eyes on you, still. You slowly moved your head to look at him once more, watching as his expression subtly shifted.

"No, seriously. It's like some couldn't keep their eyes off you." 

Cassian's gaze still lingered on you, unexpectedly soft and genuine. His features bathed in a tender glow, a small smile on his lips. His disheveled hair, tousled by the night's breeze, framed his face in a way that made you itch to rake your fingers through. For a moment, time seemed to pause as you stared at your best friend, your eyes tracing the contours of his shoulders and the majestic wings that adorned his back.

You found yourself taking him in for a minute too long, staring like he wasn’t right in front of you. The realization creeped up on you and you quickly looked away, finding somewhere, anywhere other than his gaze, to focus on. 

"Well, whatever," You muttered, turning yourself around to continue walking forward. You heard Cassian’s steps pick up behind you. “I’m over being casual. I’m tired of being with lame males who never make me finish, males who are so boring and entitled, males that are so stupid I begin to question my life decisions. All of it.”

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing as he tried to process what you had offhandedly mentioned. "Wait, what?" he said, his voice filled with confusion. "No one has ever made you finish?"

You weren’t paying full attention to what Cassian was saying, too caught up in your own thoughts and monologue about your new aversion to casual hookups. You waved him off, continuing to walk forward. 

Cassian's mind raced with thoughts of you and the males you had been with. He pictured you together, each of them trying their best to please you, their faces contorted with effort, their bodies moving in a frenzy. He pictured some outright ignoring your experience, jackknifing again and again, rutting into you like wild animals. But in his mind's eye, you remained distant, your face bored and vacant, making noises for show.

He wanted to growl. He could do better, could give you the pleasure and satisfaction that those males had failed to provide. The thought was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be with you, to make you feel the way you deserved. Had they truly not taken the time to worship you? To explore your body, pray to it like it was sacred?

His mind painted a picture of you together, your bodies entwined, a room filled with the smell of sex. He saw himself looking into your eyes, his focus on your pleasure. You moaning underneath him, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering his name. Cassian. Cassian. The image was intoxicating— he felt a stirring in his cock, a longing that settled heavy in his stomach.

But it was short lived. Quickly, a sense of guilt washed through him, flooding through his veins. Here you were, talking about your life and feelings, and he was imagining you naked, underneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be thinking of this. He should be listening to you, his best friend, and giving you advice. He aggressively shoved his thoughts away, putting a lock on the visions of you that were manifesting in his mind. With a deep breath, he told his deteriorating self-discipline that he could think of those beautiful images later, when it was just him and his hand in the solace of his room.

He found himself grateful that you were walking ahead of him, that the night air provided a distraction, a physical discomfort that could dampen his desires. It was cold out now, the breeze seemingly more nippy. It sobered him up, ridding the effects of the alcohol in his veins and his drunken feelings of lust.

It was cold out. His eyes snapped up to you walking ahead of him, rubbing your arms absentmindedly. You were cold. How had he not realized?

Because you’re a horny prick who can’t seem to remember your place in her life. His mind screamed at him. He knew it was right. 

"I just want to find someone who can connect with me on a deeper level. Someone who sees me.” You said with a defeated sigh. You stopped for a minute, looking back as Cassian caught up to you, the war general having fallen behind, distracted by his own thoughts. 

Finally reaching you, he gave you a look that you’d never seen before, and you slightly frowned from being unable to read him. But soon, his face softened, and he put his hand on your arm. The touch was tender, despite his large, rough hands, and it sent a warmth throughout your body that combated the cool air. 

"Y'know, you could get anyone you wanted." 

His voice, sincere and quiet, took the breath out of your lungs. 

Well, not anyone. The thought flitted through your mind. You ignored it. 

He smiled at you, a warmth in his gaze that set your heart on fire. “Lets get you home.”

Cassian draped his arm around you, his hand rubbing your biceps as you instinctively leaned into the comforting gesture. When his wings flared out and curled around you both, you felt the flutter in your chest again, a faint warm glow. This time, you let it sit.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Cassian's ability to fly gradually returned with the waning effects of the alcohol, and the rest of the way home had been filled with comfortable silence. You felt the familiar comfort of home envelop you the minute you stepped foot inside, and your room called to you, to your aching body and pounding headache. 

As soon as you entered, you didn't waste a moment – walking straight to your bed and simply falling face flat, a groan escaping from your lips. You could feel the throbbing in your head, every movement causing a reaction in both your scalp and deep in your stomach, where a growing sense of nausea was brewing. 

"You're gonna be in pain in the morning." Cassian remarked with a chuckle, watching your less-than-graceful landing.

You groaned again, the sound muffled by your sheets. A moment passed, and you heard the sound of Cassian removing his shoes, soon followed by a dip in the bed as he settled in and made himself comfortable. He sighed.

"Gods. Your bed is so damn comfortable."

You lifted your head to look at him, his head leaning on your headboard as he breathed softly. He looked so peaceful, no tension in his face or his body, his eyes closed with the ghost of a content smile on his lips. 

“You can sleep here tonight,” You said, “If you’d like.” 

The offer felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, and you felt vulnerable for proposing the idea. Sure, you and Cassian had slept in the same bed together before, but never when you were attracted to him, turned on by his lips touching your ear. Maybe it was a bad idea. You should send him on his way before he gets too comfortable... right?

Cassian's eyes opened, finding your own. "Really?"

Good ideas be damned.

You nodded. "Just don't hog the bed."

You watched as he smiled and settled himself in further, still clad in his button up and trousers. The pounding in your head had slowly calmed to a dull ache, a momentary relief that you knew was bound to end soon. Taking advantage of it, you made a move to push yourself up and get ready for bed, bracing yourself on your forearms. A wave of nausea ran through you again, and your mind began to conjure up images of every drink you had tonight. You groaned.

“Y/n?” 

You let out a deep breath. “Yes?” 

Cassian could hear the discomfort in your voice, and he sat up straighter, looking at where you lay at the edge of your bed, your head hanging, slightly tilted downwards towards your bed as your forehead resting on your hands. 

“Whats going on?” He said, moving closer to you on the bed. You could feel his body next to your head, his thighs rubbing against your forearms.

“Lots of drinks.” You responded, squeezing your eyes shut. “Too many.”

Cass gave a small chuckle, his hand moving to rest on your head. You felt him run his hand through your hair, felt it settle near your neck, right by your shoulders. He moved it in circular motions. 

“Let me help you.” His voice was calm and gentle. For a second, you wondered how he was perfectly fine, but then you remembered how well he could hold his alcohol and how quickly he could sober up, if needed. You felt grateful for the latter as you nodded against your hands. 

Cassian stood up and slowly wrapped his arm around your back, settling his hand on your shoulder. Then, with the other, he gently took a hold of your forearm, guiding you up from your hunched position. 

You didn’t think much as you let Cass guide you, you could feel him next to you, his arms stabilizing you as he helped you maneuver over to the other side of your bed. The whole world felt like it was moving too fast, as if you were the only thing in slow motion. You simultaneously cursed yourself for tonight while wishing you could teleport to four hours ago when you were wasted and the world was perfect.

“You think you can get out of your dress?” He asked you, as he helped you sit down on your bed.

You nodded, looking up at him with a faint smile. “Yeah. Can you…” 

Cassian turned to the armoire your outstretched finger pointed to. He nodded. You closed your eyes for a minute, taking another deep breath as you heard him open a drawer and then close it.

“Here.” His voice was still as smooth as before, calm and gentle. It sent a shiver through your body, and you found your heartbeat quickening. Not now, you scolded yourself, you’re on the verge of vomiting. You needed to get a grip. You grabbed the soft nightgown from his hand and Cassian quickly turned around, giving you some privacy. 

Your dress was easy to peel off, the small straps sliding off your shoulders with no resistance. You felt the cool air bite at your exposed chest, and quickly pulled the night stress over your head. Then, you carefully stood up, allowing your dress to slide down your legs, and your nightgown to fall properly on your body. 

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks as you looked at Cassian, his back facing to you, his beautiful wings flared out comfortably. A part of you felt so vulnerable with him now, with the way he was touching you, how you had looked at him tonight. Cassian always helped you when you were drunk, it was nothing new, but the feeling lingered nonetheless. You cleared your throat.

“Thank you,” You said, looking at Cass as he turned back around. He couldn’t help as his eyes surveyed your body, and he gave you a small grin. 

“Oh, how cute.” 

You gave him a small glare, smacking his chest with your hand. And then you slowly crawled into your bed, taking note of how Cassian’s hand hovered over your back until you were settled. He grabbed your covers for you, placing them on you.

“I feel like I’m taking care of a child.” He joked, and you let out a little scoff. He only laughed at your response. 

“Just take off your clothes and come sleep before I kick you out.” 

You could see the restraint in his face as he stifled his laughter. You could already hear it, a joke about you wanting him naked, a tease about taking him to dinner first. But, instead, Cassian let out a quiet laugh. “Okay.” 

You burrowed yourself into your bed, closing your eyes and embracing the warmth of the covers, how nice the soft mattress felt on your aching body. Behind you, you heard the sound of pants and a belt falling to the ground, and within seconds, there was a dip in the bed. Cassian’s smell filled your nose and you welcomed it in, a scent that reminded you of peaceful nights and crackling fires. 

“Cass?” You said, slowly turning yourself over to face him. You felt him shift, getting comfortable into the bed, and then he was turning to face you as well. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, his voice low.

“Thank you.”

You closed your eyes, your nose still filled with the smell of your best friend, his heat radiating onto your skin. You were out within seconds.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The air was charged with the metallic tang of sweat and the rhythmic sounds of swords clashing. It was a sight to behold, truly. Azriel and Cassian were both incredibly skilled in combat and their sparring matches were always your favorite to watch. Not only was it beautiful to see, with their fluid motions and strong forms, but it helped you pick up on things you wanted to practice yourself— and any weaknesses you could exploit when you practiced with them. Today, you observed Cassian with a focused intensity as he moved gracefully through his training routine, each motion deliberate and powerful. You found yourself unable to look away, suddenly feeling drymouthed and distracted, swallowing hard. You brought your hand to your mouth, your thumb wiping at your lip as you watched. 

Were you attracted to Cassian? 

No. The sudden heat you were feeling was due to the heavy sun above you, the strong rays hitting you and your slight dehydration. It had nothing to do with the sweaty, built, and beautiful body of your best friend. It definitely wasn’t the way his muscles rippled as he moved, or the way his sweat lined his abs…

"Enjoying the show, babe?"

You let out a small gasp in surprise, turning your head to the side as Mor approached you, a grin on her red-painted lips.

“You scared the fuck out of me.” You said, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm the quickened beating of your heart.

“I’ve never been able to catch you so off guard,” She mused. “Guess they’re real entertaining today, huh?”

You pursed your lips and looked back over to the two males sparring. They took a step back from one another, taking a momentary break to catch their breaths. Cassian looked over at you, his half-bun had unraveled during the intense training session, with strands of his tousled hair clinging to his forehead, glistening with sweat.

As he caught your gaze, Cassian grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. With a wave of his hand, he gestured toward Azriel, attempting to convey his strategy for the upcoming sparring match. You felt a smile pull at your cheeks as Cassian switched between hovering his hands around his neck to mimic an action of strangulation, and gesturing towards Azriel. Az stood unamused, wiping his forehead with his wrist before taking a large sip of water.

Beside you, Mor observed the scene with a raised eyebrow, a hint of suspicion crossing her features. Her gaze flickered between you and Cassian, and a look of realization slowly went through her face. She turned towards you with a slight gasp, smacking your bicep playfully.

"Y/n! Did you two…?"

You turned your head fast to look at her at a speed so fast that you swore you gave yourself whiplash. You looked at her with narrow eyes. “Did we what?”

Mor's grin widened as she leaned in conspiratorially. "Did you and Cassian have a little training of your own, off the sparring mat?" She teased with a wink.

You scoffed, waving her off with a gesture of your hand. You could feel a blush on your cheeks and you prayed that Mor didn’t notice— or if she did, that she attributed it to the sweltering heat.

"No, Mor! We didn't.” You responded, then you made a face of disgust. “We’re talking about Cassian. I could never.”

Mor raised an eyebrow playfully. "Are you sure about that? Because, darling, you've been staring at him like he's a piece of prime meat, and you're a starved vegetarian about to crumble."

Your cheeks burned brighter.

“Such a beautiful image, Mor, thank you for that,” You murmured, rolling your eyes before looking at her. “But that is not what I was doing. I was just… watching his technique. That's all."

Mor's laughter rang through the air as she nudged you. "Sureeee. Whatever you say. But you might want to consider admitting it to yourself before the starved vegetarian inside you takes over completely."

Flustered and unsure of how to respond, you excused yourself with a mumbled, "I don't know what you're talking about," before hastily leaving the training arena, leaving Mor's laughter echoing behind you as she followed.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You and Cass hadn’t had time together within the past week and a half. You were busy running off with Mor and Feyre, and when you weren’t with them, Amren took your attention. Cassian himself had been busy, too, but he couldn’t focus recently, not as well as usual. The last time he’d been able to properly see you, as you observed him and Azriel training, you left before he had a chance to talk to you. You hadn’t felt Cassian's eyes follow you as you left, didn’t notice the way he traced your figure. His gaze had stayed trained on you until you were out of his line of sight, and only then had he felt the presence of Az behind him. But he was too slow, and the Shadowsinger quickly disarmed him, flipping him onto his back with a loud thud.

Cassian had let out a groan followed by a string of obscenities aimed at his brother, who quickly made a comment about him being too distracted. Azriel was right. He was too distracted. His mind was completely and utterly obsessed with you. 

In fact, Cassian felt like a mad man. There was a deep ache that had settled in his chest, one that weaved itself through his ribs. He’d never felt so starved, so hungry. But his delusions, the dreams he’d been having, the fantasies that manifested in his brain, they weren’t sweet enough to satiate his hunger anymore. What he wanted was you. And he couldn’t stop picturing it, couldn't stop indulging in his thoughts. Not since that night at Rita’s. 

He’d fallen asleep with you after he’d helped you get into bed, closed his eyes after you thanked him. It was the best sleep he’d gotten in months, made even better when he woke up perfectly rested, rolling over in your comfortable bed to see you. He won’t admit how long he was staring at you, at your sleeping form, your hair fanned out across your pillow. Even with your makeup slightly smeared– a fact that made him feel guilty that he had forgotten to help you wash it off– you were breathtaking. He wondered why he never really noticed it this much before.

Cassian tried his best tonight, laying in his bed after the long day. Restless, he tossed and turned. At one point he considered getting ready and flying somewhere, going to train and practice, or finding some beautiful female to replace the thoughts he had of you. Both options sounded nauseating. So, instead, he pulled himself out of bed and slowly walked around, letting out a yawn and rubbing at his eyes. The hallways were quiet, illuminated by the moon in the night sky. 

When he rounded the corner to the kitchen, he stopped in his tracks, his heart quickly jumping. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust to the low lighting, and then readily took in the sight in front of him.

There you were, a vision of beauty, leaning gracefully into the fridge. The top part of your body concealed by the door, leaving Cassian with a tantalizing view of your legs. The silk set you wore clung to you in all the right places, the fabric catching the subtle glow of flickering faelight, accentuating the curves that commanded his attention.

Fuck. He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare for him in his current state. 

As he stood there, silently observing, you straightened up. Your hands, adorned with an elegant grace, held onto something within the fridge as you turned to close it. You turned your head slightly and your eyes met his. A wave of warmth washed over Cassian. 

"Cass?" Your voice was quiet, the surprise in your eyes quickly replaced by recognition. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. You stood tall, a small plate of mixed berries in your hand. He wasn’t surprised, though, you always had such strange midnight cravings. Still slack-jawed and captivated, Cassian tried to find the words to break the silence. He watched as your face softened and your brows pulled together. “Cant sleep?” You asked.

He blinked. And then shook his head. “Nope.” He finally replied.

You smiled, a warm and inviting expression that made Cassian's heart skip a beat, and made a motion with your head to call him closer to you. You pulled yourself onto the counter, swinging your feet as they hung. Cassian settled next to you, leaning against the counter. The cold slight touch of the cold surface on his bare back sent a chill through his body. His wings nestled comfortably behind him.

Cassian watched you as you hummed quietly, bringing the berries to your mouth. He watched the way your lips wrapped around them, the way your throat moved as you swallowed. His thoughts went straight to his cock, feeling a stirring that had him fighting to maintain his composure.

Get it together. His mind echoed. He sorted through his thoughts, then he looked up at you.  “I’ve missed you this week.” He confessed.

You paused, bringing a strawberry away from your lips. Turning to look at him, you gave him a dimpled smile. "Well, you didn’t have to wait until the dead of the night to find me,” You responded. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Cassian mirrored your smile and then let out a deep breath. Despite fighting back his intrusive thoughts about you not even minutes ago, his heart was steady and calm. He could feel a sense of relief wash through his body as he stood next to you, watching you eat. The silence was comfortable— your presence was comfortable. Something warm, something familiar, something that felt like home. 

“Want one?” You offered, holding your plate towards him. He glanced at you, then at the plate, and then at you again. His eyebrow raised.

“C’monnnn,” You said, your voice light and amused, “Every healthy male needs to eat his fruits and vegetables.”

Cassian let out a chuckle. “At three in the morning?”

You shrugged casually. “I don’t think the time matters.” You popped a blueberry in your mouth, looking at him. Then you picked one up from the plate, reaching your hand out to his face, the fruit hovering in front of his lips. “They’re nice and fresh and cold.”

He couldn’t say no to you. Not when you were looking at him like that. 

With a reluctant smile, Cassian moved to take it from your outstretched hand, but you intervened, a softness in your eyes. "Allow me," you said. He responded with a subtle nod. Holding the berry delicately between your fingers, you brought it to his mouth. For a second, your finger brushed against his lips, a small fleeting touch, the ghost of a sensation. An unexpected surge of electricity coursed through him, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake as it moved throughout his body. 

His gaze locked onto yours, your attentive eyes and your mouth slightly parted. Like many other things, you’d done this before, had given Cassian food straight to his mouth. But in the stillness of the night, with the glow on your soft skin and your silk set, Cass struggled to breathe. 

A slight grin played on your lips as Cassian, still entranced, tasted the berry you had fed him. He chewed slowly, deliberately, and then swallowed. "See?" you said in a soft, teasing tone, “And it probably tasted better with me feeding you it like some God. You’re welcome.”

Cassian, still under the spell of your touch, let out a small breath. "You're always right, aren't you?"

You met his gaze, a quiet confidence in your eyes. "It's part of my charm," you replied, the words carrying a hint of playfulness. He watched as you returned your attention to your plate, finishing the last of the berries that adorned it. You looked over at him. "It's getting late," you said, dropping down from the counter. "I should probably get some sleep."

As you stood up and stretched, Cassian's eyes followed the movement, taking in the curve of your ass as you arched your back. Your silk set rode up slightly, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of your stomach. He felt a surge of desire that made him both embarrassed and excited, like he was a 16 year old again, ready to fuck anything near him. Cassian allowed his eyes to wander back up, taking in the sight of your chest, the way the silk set clung to your breasts, the subtle rise and fall of your breaths. He felt his mouth water.

You rolled your shoulders, turning to look at him with a subtle furrow in your brow.  

“You okay?”

Cassian cleared his throat, shaking off his thoughts. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that there was a blush rising to his cheeks, a heat he was suddenly aware of on his face. 

“Yeah,” He responded, his voice huskier than intended, “Just tired.”

You shot Cassian a mildly unconvinced look with a subtle raise of your eyebrows, but gave him a half-smile, anyways. “Get some rest, Cass,” You said softly, “See you tomorrow.”

Cassian stayed still, eerily still, as he watched you walk away, watched your legs move and the way the fabric of your clothes rippled as you walked. When you were out of eyesight, he let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Then he titled his head and let out a groan at the ceiling. He took a minute to compose himself, to attempt to regulate the blood in his body– blood that was moving straight to the heat collecting like a pool in his chest. Rubbing his hands along his face, Cassian slowly headed for his room. The quiet of the night that once soothed him now felt like a void, one that yearned for your voice again, for you. 

By the time he made it to his room, Cassian’s mind was filled with images of you– of the silk material sliding across your skin, of the way your lips wrapped around the berries, of him bending you over the counter. Gods. Feeling the strain of his desire, Cassian reached down and started to stroke himself through his pants, the loose and thin material of his sweatpants doing little to buffer the friction from his palms. He felt a deep groan leave his mouth at the image of you in front of him, kneeling with your eyes wide and hungry, your lips parted, ready for him. 

He slid his hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of his cock. He pulled his pants and briefs down his legs, letting his throbbing length fall against his stomach as wrapped his hands around himself. Cassian worked himself in smooth strokes, swallowing every time his thumb grazed the head of his cock. He let his mouth fall open as he imagined you, imagined your body moving beneath him, your eyes locked on him as he took you. 

Closing his eyes, Cassian thought of the sound of your moans, fantasizing about how your breath would quicken, how your body would tremble with pleasure as he satisfied your desires. His hand moved faster, his grip tightening as the images in his mind grew more detailed— every sound you’ve emitted to him before, every laugh, every grunt as you trained, every soft sigh, all began to morph together into one beautiful melody. You’re moaning underneath him, desperate, all-consuming, so hungry for him that you’re forced to stifle your whimpers with the back of your hand.

Cassian felt the tension coiling in his body, the tightness in his balls, and the warmth spreading through his body. He imagined you writhing underneath him, your hips chasing his every thrust, your body arching beneath him, eyes filled with pleasure as he filled you with his seed. His orgasm hits him fast, his body trembling with the force of his release as he painted his stomach with the evidence of his desire.

Even after he’d cleaned himself off, after he’d submerged himself in a cold bath, Cassian’s mind still lingered on you, on your silk set, on your lips— on your laugh. And as he tossed and turned in bed once more, Cass realized he was completely fucked. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

"What's got you so flustered?" Mor asked, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

Mor knew exactly why you were so flustered. Her, Amren, and Feyre had guessed it from the beginning— the subtle touching and lingering gazes. You liked Cassian, like-liked Cassian. And until now, you had refused to admit it. 

As you remembered the moment with Cassian a mere three nights ago, a blush crept onto your cheeks. You ran your hands down your face and let out a groan. Feyre and Mor exchanged amused glances. 

“He walked in shirtless!” You exclaimed, your voice still slightly covered by your hands running down your face. “Gods, I didn’t know what to do. I just kept shoving berries in my mouth. And then I kept trying to find a reason to touch him but I couldn’t.”

Feyre, who sat next to you with her legs to the side, comfortably nestled into the crook of the couch, leaned forward, looking at you with expectant eyes. “So what did you do?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding eye contact by focusing on a loose thread on the couch. "I gave him a berry." Your voice was quiet. You spared Feyre a glance under your brow. When you saw her face crinkle in amusement, you quickly looked away, nervously twirling the thread between your fingers. It snapped quickly. 

From in front of you, Mor stared, her brows furrowed and mouth slightly parted. “You gave him… a berry?” She leaned back, a look of intrigue on her face.

You nodded slowly, aware of how lame it sounded. “Yes. I fed him a berry.” You said, looking up at her.

"And?" Feyre asked. 

You pursed your lips and glanced at her, and then bounced your vision around the room. There was a deep sense of embarrassment that bubbled in your stomach, a feeling that made you want to hide away. You were flustered, more than you had ever been, and it was due to your best friend shirtless in the kitchen. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush— and it was humiliating. But looking at both of your friends, so eagerly sitting, you let out a breath and word-vomited them the truth. 

“And I’ve never been so aroused by someone's lips and the faint feeling of stubble! Gods, what do I do?” You lifted your hands up in exasperation, finding yourself sinking further into the couch. Crossing your arms, you huffed in frustration. Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel the heat radiating from them.

“I know what to do.”  Mor said, matter-of-factly. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You do?" Your hands dropped to your lap and you leaned forward.

"Yes. You need to get laid." Mor's tone was casual.

Your eyes widened. "W-What?" Your jaw dropped.

Mor only nodded her head affirmatively, jutting her chin out towards Feyre next to you. “She agrees.”

 You shot a look to Feyre, who stared at you with wide eyes. She gave you a sheepish smile. “I mean…” She trailed off, looking towards Mor for help. You followed her gaze and turned your head to the blonde once more. 

"We’re going to Ritas," Mor declared. She stood up, a confident sway to her hips as she moved towards the door.

"But we went last week," You protested. Mor stopped in her place and turned around to look at you with feigned innocence. 

"Oh, I’m sorry,” She said, bringing her delicate hand to her chest, “I didn’t realize it was illegal to go out two weekends in a row." 

You tilted your head and threw her an unamused look, but Mor only grinned at you. When you let out a defeated sigh and shook your head, she knew she had won and looked towards Feyre.

“Amren will come, too. It’ll be a girls night. Right, Fey?” 

Feyre smiled and turned to look at you, meeting your gaze. “Right.” She affirmed. She leaned forward, placing a soft hand on your bicep. “It’ll be fun.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

When the day began winding down, Mor returned from her apartment, arms heavy with dresses. She strolled into your room, Amren in tow, with the same grin from earlier. Looking towards where you and Feyre sat on your couch, she let out an excited squeal. “Tonight is going to be great.”

You glanced at Amren, who merely gave you a small quirk of her lips before planting herself down on the seat opposite of you, watching as Mor dumped her pile of clothes on your bed. 

You casted a glance at the pile of dresses, each with their own gorgeous vibrant color and delicate fabrics. You looked over at Mor. “Couldn’t decide on what to wear?” You mused. You pulled yourself up and walked towards her, examining the dresses on your bed. You brought the fabric of one between your fingers, feeling the delicate silk. 

Mor let out a laugh, bringing her hand to your arm. She looked at you with an amused glance. “Oh babe, these aren’t for me.” 

You frowned at her, and then your face fell. “Oh, these are for me?”

She nodded excitedly. Looking behind you towards Amren and Feyre. “Tell her how beautiful these would look on her.”

You didn’t look back, instead running your hands across the pile of elegant dresses. It wasn’t that you didn’t love them. Each dress was gorgeous in its own right, and if they belonged to Mor, you knew that they would look even better on– sexy, even. But you frowned slightly at the idea of dressing up to go to Rita’s with the goal of getting noticed. Unlike times before, it didn’t seem appealing. But perhaps you were overthinking. After all, the past two weeks had left you in your head too much. 

Feyre craned her head slightly, watching as you stared at the dresses. “They are beautiful, Y/n.” 

You let out a small sigh. This was good for you. Mor was right, you needed to get laid. You hadn’t fucked in a while. With all the tension and stress you’d been feeling, the worries about Koschei and impending doom, it made sense that your desires would manifest in someone familiar like Cassian, right? You nodded to yourself at the thought and then smiled. “Tell me which to try on first.”

You eyed the first dress Mor handed you. It was a stunning creation, soft and open, with a low neckline that hinted at just the right amount of allure. The fabric shimmered in the faelight of your room. As you slipped it on, the dress clung to your figure, accentuating curves you didn't always pay attention to. But it didn’t feel right. The straps felt a bit too loose, and as you turned to check yourself in the mirror, you realized the openness that had seemed so alluring was now making you uneasy.

Amren’s eyes narrowed. “No.” 

You nodded in agreement, tugging at the neckline. "Yeah, I think I’ll pass."

Feyre chimed in with a supportive smile. "Let's try the next one. Maybe it'll capture the right feeling. Yeah?” She turned her head to the side, motioning towards some dresses that Mor stood over as she sorted through them. Each dress was a different variation of red, Mor’s beautiful statement color and one that screamed confidence and grace. Surely Mor owned more than red, you thought. Why had she decided that you both were going to adorn her signature color tonight? You didn’t think too long about it, your gaze fixed on yourself in the mirror. 

After a few more desperate tries, and Amren’s decreasing confidence in Mor’s styling abilities, the blonde reached into the pile of dresses and pulled out a final dress that had you releasing a small gasp. The fabric was a deep, rich ruby red that seemed to absorb the light around it. As you slipped into the dress, the material clung to your curves, accentuating your silhouette. The neckline dipped low, revealing just enough to be tantalizing without feeling excessive, and you appreciated how naturally your breasts fell underneath it. The open back was a work of art, adorned with delicate jewels that cascaded down like a waterfall, drawing attention to the graceful curve of your spine.

You took a moment before looking at your friends. However, it was Amren specifically that you turned to for a decision, meeting her gaze. She let her eyes run down your figure before looking at you. The corners of her mouth tilted upwards as she gave you a small nod. “This is the one, girl.” 

Feyre and Mor watched as you turned to examine yourself in the mirror. The dress opened at the hips, showcasing your thighs and legs. The overall effect was breathtaking, a harmonious blend of elegance and desire. Mor's eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Gods, you look so sexy." 

You met Mor’s gaze in the mirror.  “No ones going to be able to take their eyes off you,” She gushed, “You’ll have your fair pick of females and males.” You let your mind drift off as Mor continued to babble, feeling Feyre’s hands running through your hair as she twirled the strands between her fingers, deciding how she wanted to help you style it. You took in your appearance in the mirror, eyes roaming over the dress once more, over how well it accentuated your body. It wasn’t until your gaze was drifting up that you noticed the figure in the doorway, your heart stopping. 

With a smirk playing on her lips, Amren’s voice rang out. "Hello, Cassian."

You, Feyre, and Mor turned in unison to the doorway, where Cassian stood  wide-eyed and still. He paled slightly and swallowed. You felt a flush creep up your neck, your hand flying to your collarbone in an anxious movement. Despite the confidence the perfect dress had given you moments ago, the presence of Cassian in the doorway had thrown you off balance. His eyes roamed your body, tracing where the dress fell at your feet up to its neckline, and all the skin it revealed. His wings twitched behind him, falling slightly. You rubbed at the spot that your hand lay at. 

Cassian, still caught off guard, stammered slightly. "I... uh, was just coming to see if you wanted to hang out." You felt your face soften, giving him a smile. Before you could respond, Mor waved him off dismissively.

 "Oh, sorry. She’s busy," she said with a tight smile. You casted a quick glance at her before giving your best friend an apologetic one. His gaze lingered on you, running up your figure once more– the heat in his gaze felt like it was lighting you on fire, and you bit the inside of your cheek. 

"I can see that.” He said. He cleared his throat. “So, uh, what's going on?" His eyes darted between the dresses thrown across your bed and to the girls surrounding you, each wearing beautiful, elegant gowns of their own. He didn’t miss the way Amren looked at him in amusement, or how her gaze trailed to you as she did so. 

Feyre looked between you two before answering. “It's girls night," she explained, “We’re going to Ritas.”

Mor, however, turned around with a large grin. "Y/n is getting laid tonight!" she announced with unabashed enthusiasm.

Cassian's eyes widened, and he blinked rapidly as if trying to process the information. A sizzling sense of jealousy formed in his chest and he breathed out from his nose. The room fell silent for a moment before he finally managed to sputter out “I thought you were over casual flings?” 

You bashfully stuttered, feeling a touch of awkwardness in the tense atmosphere, a small lump in the back of your throat, "Oh, well..." Your eyes searched for the right words, and you caught Mor's gaze, her curious stare making you feel a bit more exposed than you'd anticipated. "I don't know. We'll see." You shrugged slightly, giving him a close-mouthed smile. 

Feyre and Amren exchanged glances, their eyes bouncing between you and Cassian. You didn’t catch it. Mor wanted to laugh, but instead she pressed her lips together and circled you, taking in the image of you in the dress.  "I bet she'll have to fight off people tonight," she mused, casting a sly look in Cassian's direction. "Wouldn't you agree, Cassian?" Feyre’s head swung over to Mor and she gave her a tight look, her eyes widening slightly. Unaffected, the blonde looked back at her with an innocent face. What? She mouthed. 

Cass was staring at you, unmoving and chest rising rapidly. You took in his casual wear, how his hair hung loosely, some strands in front of his face. He was looking at you with an intensity in gaze that you’d never felt before, a heat that made you feel like you were on fire. You swallowed, and then bit your lip, watching as his eyes took in those movements too. Having not fully registered Mor's question, he stammered again, "I—uh, what?"

Mor's grin widened, and she feigned innocence. "Oh, nothing. I'm just saying that she looks so beautiful. Tell her how beautiful she looks."

Cassian casted a quick glance at Morrigan, but quickly his eyes settled back to the place they were at before– your face, your body, you. You blushed at Mor's pointed comment. His eyes ran down your figure once more, seeming to trace the lines of the dress. You continued to rub nervously at your collarbone, the heightened attention making you slightly self-conscious. 

Cassian, finally finding his words, cleared his throat. "You do look... incredible," he admitted, his eyes still fixed on you. You wondered if your friends were suddenly feeling smothered too, if something in the air was making it hard for them to breathe. Your heartbeat echoed in your ears. You resisted the urge to gulp down another nervous breath. Mor let out a small sound of agreement before she looked over at the illyrian male.

"Okay, thats enough gawking, Cassian. We all know Y/n is hot. Now leave us be. Go find Az or Rhys or something," she declared. Your eyes widened slightly, and Cassian shook his head, his mouth slightly parting. Caught between embarrassment and amusement, he took Mor's words in stride. “Right.” He responded with a smile.

He turned around to leave, but before fully retreating, he stole one last glance in your direction. You noticed the subtle, lingering look on his face—an admiring gaze, accompanied by a fleeting lick of his lips. There was a certain longing in his eyes that didn't go unnoticed. Then, you watched as a different expression overcame his features. He walked out before you had a chance to examine it further. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You let out a small laugh as Mor continued to compliment you, talking over her shoulder as you, Feyre, and Amren followed her, approaching the main foyer. Your laughter died as Mor stopped in her tracks and frowned slightly. 

"What are you guys doing?" She asked, a mix of surprise and annoyance in her voice. As you caught up to where she stood, you were greeted with the unexpected sight of Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand standing in front of the door, seemingly waiting for you. Dressed in impeccably tailored suits, each of them exuded a distinctive charm. The realization hit you—the look on Cassian’s face as he departed from your room earlier, the sense of determination, the lingering cue of playfulness. He had gone and convinced them both to join. 

You couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail in how they looked, and Cassian, in particular, stood out. His wings, a symbol of his power and grace that you adored, were confidently spread, and his slicked-back hair added a touch of elegance to his rugged charm. He not only looked good, he looked absolutely delicious. You didn’t attempt to hide the look on your face as you took him in. 

Finally ripping your eyes from your best friend, you looked behind him, to where Azriel sat, his face donning its usual cool expression, but you could sense it- the hint of annoyance that laid underneath it. Meanwhile, next to him, Rhysand sported a large, confident grin. A grin that Cassian mirrored, but with a touch less confidence, his eyes flickering between you and the others. Amren, observing the situation with her usual detached demeanor, glanced at Rhysand and deadpanned, "You're coming with us."

Rhysand's grin widened, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Girls' night, right?" He threw his mate a wink. You heard her stifle some laughter. 

Cassian, scratching the back of his head, added with a sheepish smile, "Figured we'd join the fun. Tonight’s been a bit boring." He gestured around him. Then his gaze fell on you. For what felt like the millionth time tonight, his eyes raked over you and you blinked, catching his gaze when it fell on your face. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You didn’t mind.  Not one bit, you thought. If he kept looking at you like that, with those eyes and that heated gaze, you wouldn’t mind a thing he did. He could ask you for anything right now, and you’d say yes. Yes, yes, just keep staring at me like that. Like you see me, like you want me. 

Mor scoffed, "Yes, we do mind!" She turned to you, looking for support. "Tell them it's a girls night."

All eyes turned to you, and you felt a flutter of uncertainty. There was Cassian, his eyes locked onto yours, examining you, your every feature, your every move. The heat of his eyes had started to pooled down at your thighs. You clenched everything below your waist as you hesitated for a moment, still caught in the intensity of his gaze. Mor's impatience grew, and she raised an expectant eyebrow. "Well?"

You lingered on Cassian, and despite Mor's expectant face, you found yourself saying, "No, I don't mind."

Mor's expression shifted from annoyance to resignation, and she let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

Cassian's face brightened with a grin, "I promise, Mor, it'll be so fun." His attention turned towards you, walking to you with a soft, but charming grin. "Allow me." He extended his elbow, and without hesitation, you interlocked your hand with his. The touch was comforting and warm, and his scent enveloped you as he guided you towards the exit. You closed your eyes with a content sigh. 

The fragrance that clung to him was intoxicating. Maybe it was a bad idea to invite him tonight, to let him join you and the girls. The dress you were wearing gave you an inflated sense of confidence that you hadn’t felt for a while, and as you walked alongside Cassian, you wondered if it would truly be so bad to indulge in your thoughts of him. To think of his hands, the some ones with you right now, and how they would trace your body the way his eyes had this evening. You felt your arousal bubbling up at the thought of it. It was all in innocent fun, right? You could think of him, enjoy this touch, fantasize about him, as long as that's all it was— thoughts in your mind, away from reality, an idea that you never let come to fruition. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You had to admit, Mor was right. Rita’s was definitely the move tonight. Somehow it was even more lively than last week, bustling with people and energy. You weren’t as intoxicated as last time, not anywhere near it, but you felt drunk all the same. And you weren’t ashamed to admit, now, that your drunken haze was all caused by one thing: your extremely attractive best friend. 

You and Cass had lost the rest of your group a while back, pulled into a drink off with a beautiful fae couple. Cassian and you had won every single round, leaving you standing at the bar now, celebrating with another round of shots. 

Cassian was standing next to you as you both faced the bar, your arms touching,  practically on top of one another. Cass craned his head to look at the crowd behind you, his hand wrapping around your waist as people drunkenly stumbled past you, making their way to the bar. On usual nights, Cassian’s hand would have dropped by now, returned to their position at his side, but not tonight. Instead, he kept his hand across your waist, keeping a heavy hold on you. You could feel the heat from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you felt it as it moved straight to your core. You instinctively rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to ignore it, suddenly feeling grateful for the multitude of smells in Rita’s that covered your arousal. You turned your head to the side to look at Cassian, noticing that his gaze was on you, but not on your face. Instead, it seemed as if he was looking to where his hand rested on your hip.

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing, leaning closer to him. He tilted his head slightly, and then you felt his hand lift. You felt a small tinge of disappointment, but it quickly dissipated when you felt his light touch hovering over your back, tracing where the delicate jewels of your dress cascaded down your spine like a waterfall. Your body shuddered. You watched him as his gaze deepended, as he took his lip between his teeth. His hands traced the ornate jewelry, landing at the base of your spine, where the fabric of your dress gathered. 

“I like this,” Cassian said, his voice low. His eyes flickered to yours, “Beautiful.”

Your chest fluttered at his words— was he complimenting the dress, or you? You couldn’t ask even if you wanted to, the air sucked out of your lungs with every lingering touch of his.  Your mouth parted slightly as he stared at you, as you ran your eyes along his face. You felt the brush of his fingers on your spine now. He wasn’t tracing the jewelry anymore, no, he was touching you. 

“Here you go,” A sudden voice pulled you out of the moment. Both you and Cassian turned your heads to the bartender placing two small shot glasses in front of you. You had forgotten you’d ordered another round, forgotten why you were at the bar in the first place, with your best friends hands over you. “I apologize for the wait.” The bartender said. 

You spared him a quick glance, a small graceful smile on your lips, “No worries,” you said. But then you looked at him once more, recognizing the smile he wore, the sound of his voice. This was the bartender Cassian was talking about. And from the way he looked at you, how he pushed your glass to your hand, lightly grazed your fingers, you knew Cass was right about his interest in you. 

“Thanks,” Cassian said, his voice rough. He grabbed both of the glasses in his hand, dragging them closer to your chests, his eyes trained on the bartender, whose smile faltered as he looked at your best friend. Cassian’s hand, which had fallen from your back at the interruption, found your hips again. “That’ll be it.” You didn’t need to look at the bartender to know that he shrunk away, intimated. You didn’t need to look because all you wanted to stare at was Cassian. Cassian, Cassian, Cassian. Something about his grip on you, on the way he’d pushed the bartender away, the way he’d touched your spine, all of it had you pooling at your core. 

“Here,” Cass said, pushing your glass towards you with his knuckle. He grabbed his in his hand. The other hand was still at your hip, unmoving— except for the occasional circular rub of his thumb. You tenderly took the shot, angling your body to twist slightly so you could better face him. The hand on you moved appropriately, still staying placed on your hip as you maneuvered. 

“Cheers.” You said, looking at him. You licked your lips as you held the shot up. Cassian met yours, the two glasses making a clink as they touched. “Cheers.” He responded. 

Tilting your head back, you welcomed the shot openly, letting the liquid coat your throat, feeling the warmth as it moved down. When you were done, you were met with Cassian’s gaze once more, watching you. His gaze followed the column of your throat as you swallowed. His hand moved to your face, his thumb wiping away a stray drop of whiskey on your chin. The touch itself sent a frenzy through your body, and you let out a small, quiet gasp. 

“Y/n.” He murmured.

“Yes?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body still. He was closer to you now than a few moments ago, and it took everything in your power not to pull him even closer, to brush against him. 

“You can’t look at me like that.” Cassian finally replied. 

Your heart leaped, and you took a sharp intake of breath. How were you looking at him, you wondered? Mor’s words echoed in your mind: like he was a piece of meat and you were a starving vegetarian? She was right. Oh, so right. You wanted to taste him, to devour him, to have him ravish you in return. You swallowed and then whispered in response. 

“Like what?”

Cassian said nothing. He scanned your face and then his hand was moving again, brushing a stray strand of your hair from your face. When the hair still fell out of place, he gingerly grabbed it and tucked it behind your ear. You felt his finger trace the shell of your ear, falling as it reached your lobe, now on your cheek. You closed your eyes, leaning into the touch, pressing closer to him. His grasp at your hip tightened, and you felt as it moved up, his hands now grabbing the skin at your waist. 

When you opened your eyes, your gaze met his instantly. He was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with desire. "We should probably find our friends," he whispered, his voice hoarse. You nodded absentmindedly, feeling your chest tighten. Cassian’s palm slightly lifted from your cheek, the ghost of his touch lightly moving. His thumb found your lips, tugging at them slightly, you let your mouth fall open with the touch. He nearly let out a moan at the sight. 

“Or,” You whispered back, “We could go home.”

He nodded, the pad of his thumb still rubbing at your lip. “We could.”

You lifted your hand to grab his wrist softly, pulling it lower, to your chest. You felt the heat of his palm as it landed on your chest. “Cassian.” His cock pressed angrily against his zipper at the sound of his name falling from your lips so sensually, so softly. His hand trailed higher, and then he was wrapping it around your neck, his thumb running along your throat.  You savored the touch and bit your lip, looking at him through your lashes. The look was all he needed, any self-constraint quickly disappearing. 

“Let's go home.” He said, his thumb running alongside your lips once more. Then, he was spinning you both around, interlacing your fingers as he pulled you through the crowd. 

As Cassian led you out, you looked back, squinting at the mass of people. Your gaze landed on Feyre, who was already looking at you. You watched as she glanced between you and Cassian, and then she gave you a small smile, her brows slightly furrowed. Be careful. Her voice echoed in your brain, soft and gentle. You weren't sure what she was referring to, if she was talking about your trip home or the way you were entangled with your best friend. Either way it didn’t matter. You weren’t being careful, not now. You didn’t want to be. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You weren’t quite sure what to do. You’d never been in this position with someone you loved so dearly— never been in the situation where you were about to fuck your best friend. 

The way home was a blur, the cold air as you both left Rita’s in a hurry, how Cass had wrapped his arms around you, how they had wandered and explored, but nowhere too vulnerable— not yet. You had made it a few minutes before you decided to winnow back, your ability fully functioning and, at the moment, incredibly convenient. Back at the house, you both had stared at each other, breathing hard, heavy-lidded eyes with lust. You could smell it on him. You didn’t doubt that you reeked of your own arousal. But Cass has stepped away from you, for a brief moment, biting his lips as his hands curled at his sides. Whatever you want, sweetheart, is what he had said. He wanted to give you an out, a chance to change your mind, to decide that this wasn’t a line you wanted to, or were ready to, cross. The realization hit you sweetly, and it only added to your arousal, the fact that he was so aware of you. 

You had looked at him, a small nod of your head towards the hallways, towards the corridors that led to your rooms. You hadn’t said anything, a heavy silence followed you, filled with longing and desperation, a hint of anxiety. You had waited, let Cassian take the next move. If he followed, you both knew what would happen. You had given him an out, too. 

You worried when some time had passed and you were still alone in your bedroom. You walked towards your mirror, taking in your appearance, the dress on you, the evident arousal on your face, in your stature. Then you heard him. His walking. You closed your eyes, hearing his heavy footsteps enter your room. You heard your door shut, and the footsteps grew louder until you felt him behind you, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. You let out a small breath. 

“Cass,” You whispered, your eyes opening and meeting his in the mirror.

His hands found your hips, and he pulled you back into him. You felt his hard length against you, pressing against your exposed back, the heat of it alone causing you to let out a small, shaky breath. You leaned back into him, rubbing against him as his fingers tightened around you. Craning your head to the side, Cassian took advantage of your exposed neck, running his nose along it, inhaling your scent. He nudged the sweet spot behind your ears, your knees almost giving out as his lips trailed the shell of your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin. 

His voice, rough as gravel, sent a wave through you of something you couldn’t name, but it was heavy, hot, and made you so incredibly horny. “Sweetheart, are you…” He trailed off. 

Sure? Sober? You had a feeling that sober is what his question seemed to probe at. You nodded, nodded frantically. Every shot you had taken tonight had no effect on your body, not anymore. You’d felt the last lingering effects of your final shot as you both came home, feeling as it slipped out of your system. And if he was asking if you were sure, that answer was yes, too. You were boldly, acutely, and fully aware of the moment, of each sensation in your body— fully aware of the ache in your legs, of how good Cassian smelled. “Yes, yes.” You whispered.

“Thank god,” He groaned– a guttural, animalistic sound. 

Before you could blink, Cassian was spinning you around. You let out a gasp, your view quickly taken up by the image of his face hovering over yours. He held your face in both of his hands, his thumbs swiping across your cheeks. His eyes scanned you in desperation, as if he was searching for something within the details of your features. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find as he brought his lips to yours, giving in entirely with a soft moan of relief. His arms moved to wrap around your waist, and you moaned into him, flinging your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He kissed you harder. 

“You sure?” Cassian whispered, floating the question again. He slid his warm palm up and over your hips, to your waist, your ribs, and back down again. You let out a sigh at his touch, running your palms up to pull the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Yes,” You said as he feathered kisses along your neck. “Are you?” 

You felt Cassian nod against you, a small breathless laugh left his lips as he came up for another kiss. “Fuck yes. I’ve been dreaming about this.” And then he placed another kiss on your lips, deep and sensual. Hunger radiated off him like a starved man. His words turned you to jelly and you swore you could feel your wetness running down your thighs. 

“This dress,” he breathed against your lips, “I wanted to rip it off you the minute I saw it.”

Before you can react, he reached out and gripped the fabric of your dress, yanking it downward with a force that left your heart racing. You gasped as the material was torn from your body, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You watched in awe as he threw the torn fabric aside, a small sound emitting as the jewels made contact with the hard floor. The cold air immediately took the place of the warmth of your clothing, making you shiver with pleasure.

“That was Mor’s!” You managed to breathe out, looking at the discarded pile of fabric. Your words died in your throat the minute you caught Cassian’s gaze again. There was a predatory look in his eyes as he took you in, and you remembered now that you were completely naked now, save for a lacy pair of panties. Your nipples perked, hard and ready, in the cold air. Cassian, his gaze unmoving, simply grumbled back, “I’ll buy her a new one.” 

Cassian's eyes roamed over your naked body, his gaze heated as he took in the sight of you, completely at his mercy. His hands reached out, his fingers tracing a path down your arms, making you shake with anticipation. His hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer. "You have no idea how beautiful you are," He said, "How much I've wanted this." You felt his erection, hard and ready, pressing against your stomach.

His lips found yours, his tongue plunging deep into your mouth as he kissed you with all the passion he'd been holding back. You felt the desire radiating from him, making you feel wanted and desired in a way that nothing else ever had. As he broke the kiss, his eyes locked on yours, filled with pure, unfiltered lust. "I'm going to make you come," he growled, his voice low and rough. "And when I do, you'll never forget the way I made you feel."

With that, he plunged his tongue back into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer as you stand there, naked and vulnerable, your cunt throbbing with every word, every touch. Your hands gripped his hair, your fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled him closer, your bodies pressed together in a frenzy of passion.

Cassian broke away from you for a moment, his breath hot and heavy against your lips. "Jump," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. Without hesitation, you lifted yourself into his arms as he pulled you into him effortlessly. He wrapped himself around you, his hands gripping at your ass, fingers digging into your skin. You felt his erection pressing against you, underneath you, with desperate need.

He took a few steps before he carefully dropped you onto your bed with a bounce. You fell onto your back, your eyes wide with desire as you looked up at him. He took you in with his eyes, every detail of your body etched in his mind, hungrily saving the image of you for later.

Cassian's movements were hurried and frenzied as he removed his own shirt, discarding it carelessly on the floor near your--Mor's-- shredded dress. As he moved, you sat up from your supine position, your legs naturally falling to either side, finding yourself yourself in a kneeling position. You looked up at Cass. The sight of you like this, vulnerable and expectant, only intensified the hunger in his eyes, and he groaned.

You reached out to him and ran your fingertips along the waistband of his black pants, watching as his stomach muscles clenched in response to your touch. Cassian caught your wrists in his hands, looking down at you hungrily, he shook his hand. “Not yet, sweetheart. Let me savor this.”

You let out a small whimper, the sound shooting straight to his dick, causing the hardening length to throb in anticipation. But when he released your hands, you kept them at his waistband, bringing your hand to palm him through the fabric of his pants. 

“Please,” You whimpered, “I want to.”

And what kind of man would Cassian be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked up at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? He moaned, feeling as if he could cum at the sight of you alone. This, you, were better than any of his fantasies— and he had come up with a lot within the past two weeks.  

You stared at him, at the way his muscles ripped under this golden skin, at the black tattoos curling around him, at the way his wings flared out openly, dominantly. You ached to be closer, to be able to touch the sensitive membrane. You licked your lips, taking in the curl of his biceps, the sharp dips of his hips, Gods, he was beautiful. He brought his right hand to your face, holding it tenderly before moving his hand to grab your hair at the back of your head. You took that as your invitation, leaning forward to undo his pants. With his buttons undone, you pulled the fabric down, Cassian’s hands aiding you to slide his underwear off with it. 

You let out a gasp at his length, at the girth, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock. Red and hungry at the tip, leaking. You were watering at the sight. A deep sense of jealousy pooled into your stomach, images of every female he’d been with before, every female who had the pleasure of experiencing this before you. Mine. You thought. Mine. Pushing yourself closer to him, you kissed a line down his stomach.

You felt his muscles tense beneath your lips as you wrapped your fingers around him. He hissed as you rubbed your hands up his considerable length, the sound repeating when you spit on the head, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft.  You dragged the flat of your tongue upward, against the underside of his cock. Cassian’s reaction was instant, bucking into your grip with a breathless, raspy, moan that sent a wave of arousal down your body. You allowed your hand to follow the trail, spreading your saliva. Your mouth sunk down on him.  As you hollowed your cheeks, Cassian pushed himself harder, letting out a sinful groan as you welcomed him, taking him deeper in your throat.

“Gods,” Cassian tightened his jaw as he watched his cock disappear between your swollen lips with every bob of your head. “That pretty little mouth of yours.”

You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, Cassian’s head falling backward as he moaned, his grip in your hair getting tighter. You moaned in response, the sound vibrating through him. You shifted on your thighs, rubbing them together in an attempt to relieve some of your own arousal.  With a wet pop, you released him from your mouth, looking directly up at him as he stared at you with naked lust. You greedily swallowed the taste of him that coated your tongue.

“Enough. My turn.” He said, his voice halfway between growl and purr, a feral sound from deep in his chest that reverberated through your core. Cassian’s hand found your chest, after a squeeze of your breasts, his palm settled above your ribs. With a soft push, you were flat on your back again. He leaned over you and you seized the opportunity to rock against his thigh, your pussy throbbing at every touch of his, desperate for friction. But he moved quickly, leaving you grasping for touch. “Cassian.” You moaned. You pulled him back up again, desperate to have him close, slotting your lips against him. 

He accepted another hungry, ravenous kiss from you before he moved down, trailing hard kisses down your jaw and across your collarbone. Your hands tugged at him,  roaming over the length of his shoulders and the plane of his back, you trailed your fingers along his wings, the sensitive and soft membrane. You felt him shudder at the touch, watched as those beautiful wings twitched. You needed more.

Cassian stopped, taking a moment to bite into the soft flesh at the base of your neck. You let out a moan, throwing your hands into his hair as he sucked on the tender skin, soothing the area with a swipe of his tongue. He removed his mouth, tilting his head to make slight eye contact with you, a cocky grin placed on his lips. 

“I’ll paint you in my marks, Y/n.”  He whispered, moving his head down to continue his trail of kisses, “Just to have evidence that I was lucky enough to be here.”

He brought one hand between your thighs, his large calloused fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh, his perfect mouth still exploring you, tasting your skin. Your moans tumbled from your mouth, outside of your control, flowing like a river. You tightened your grasp on his hair, your fingers raking his scalp, pelvis lifting into his touch. Your legs widened further to provide him better access, knees dropping to the side. 

“To feel this.” Cassian’s fingers pulled your underwear aside and ran themselves through the wetness at your core, through your sensitive folds. His finger delicately circled your clit, rubbing at it in a way that had you mewing at his touch.

You let out a gasp as one probed at your entrance, your warm core welcoming it greedily. You felt his finger curl, and then arched into him as he added another, working in and out of you. You could hear the squelch of your juices as he fingered you, could feel the way your essence dripped with each movement. 

A disappointed sigh left your lips when the warmth of his hand left you. But seconds later, as you looked down at him with your hands in his hair, he pulled himself up slightly– just enough to look at you. Just enough to make eye contact as he tilted his head and stuck his slick fingers into his mouth. He lapped at the wetness coating his fingers. 

“Fuck, you taste better than I imagined.” He said, moving down to drop to his knees at the edge of the bed, between your spread legs. You propped yourself up on your elbows to keep your gaze on him. He looked at you, heavy lidded, his mouth glistening with the remnants of your slick. “May I?”

Please, please. He didn’t need to ask, you thought. You wanted him everywhere, wanted him on you, in you, all over you. Whatever he wanted was what you wanted. You lazily nodded, your tongue darting out again to wet your lips. 

“Words, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, placing hot and wet kissing along your thighs. His arms snaked under your thighs, hands reaching to grab your hips and pull you closer. He slowly peeled your drenched panties off your body. “I want to hear you.”

“Yes,” You finally managed to croak out. Your voice deep and needy. “Please, Cass.”

And then his tongue was on you, licking a stripe up your dripping sex. You let out a loud moan at the contact, at the feeling of his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your folds, dragging it slowly.  Your hands found his hair and gripped it roughly between your fingers, your body curling around him. Cassian’s tongue dipped into your hole, darting in, again and again.  Your legs trembled as stars began to cloud your vision. 

“Cassian,” You choked out, feeling the building pressure in your stomach. You tried bucking your hips, but Cassian kept your thighs still, steady in a position where you couldn’t escape his wicked mouth. His tongue alternated between teasing your clit and slipping into your entrance. Your spined bowed in pleasure, and you brought one hand to your breasts, rubbing them and pinching at your nipples as Cassian ravaged you.

“You’re delicious. So fucking delicious.” Cassian crooned as he pulled apart from your cunt. He took a minute to admire the sweet image of you dripping in front of him, and then he dove back in. He let out a moan, quiet but still audible, and you noticed his other hand had removed itself from your thigh, now hidden from your view. As you looked, you saw it visibly moving, frantically, desperately. Cassian was eating you out and rubbing his own cock at it, pleasuring himself as he lapped at you. You moaned at the idea alone. The noises you made were loud, loud enough that you knew your family would hear if they were home already. But you didn’t care, you had no shame. Let them hear.

Cassian was murmuring into your core; he repeated something, the words falling from him like a prayer from a dying man. You were barely able to hear his whispers over the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears. Cassian pulled back a little then, heedless of your firm hold on his hair, watching you with his jaw set, eyes dark and greedy.

“Oh, Y/n,” he said huskily. “I could feast on this beautiful pussy forever, you know that?”

As he withdrew his mouth, he replaced its presence with his fingers instead. His thumb resumed the stimulation on your clit while his fingers moved inside your. When he slid another finger into you, your hips jumped, moving to meet his fingers faster. He curled his fingers into you as you rutted down harder. He groaned as your walls clenched when he curled his fingers, hitting a spot that had you whining his name. Your face contorted in pleasure and you let your head fall back. Cassian’s hand gripped at your thigh, calling your attention back.

“Down here,” He hummed, “Keep those pretty eyes down here.”

You brought your head back up, supporting yourself with your elbows. Cassian’s eyes stayed on yours as he lowered himself to your sex again, nustling his nose against your clit before he licked a stripe up your cunt, bringing his mouth to suck on your clit. You felt his fingers enter you again– one, then two. They brushed against you as he lapped at your clit, drawing circles with his tongue. You could barely breathe, the air leaving your lungs as Cassian filled your body with sweet, suffocating ecstasy. Your right hand found itself in his hair again, grabbing, pulling. He let out a groan at the feeling, and continued to lap at you.

You felt it everywhere, felt him everywhere. Pleasure gushed through your body, every part of your body sensitive. You writhed under him, your vision of Cassian growing blurry as you felt your pleasure build, coiling deep in your belly, ready to explode. You’re weren't sure what was up or down, forgotten where you were completely. Nothing existed except you and Cassian and the way he fucked you with his fingers and his mouth, and Gods, the thought of your reality alone made you want to cum. You grinded against his mouth, feeling as he grabbed you, pulled you closer, harder, against him, completely smothering him. 

“Oh my Gods, yes, yes, yes.” The sounds you were emitting were music to his ears and Cassian continued. 

The mixture of your pleasure, of Cassian’s grunts, his smells, of the way his wings twitched with each of your moans, made it even sweeter when Cassian brought another finger to your entrance. That tight, hot, built-up coil in your stomach loosened and you shriled loudly, your back bowing off the bed beneath you. Your whole body quaked as your orgasm rippled through you.

Cassian was in heaven— he was sure of it. You were a vision, your cheeks flushed, your lips parted as you moaned out in pleasure, your hard grasp in his hair. He felt every sound from your lips, every whisper of his name falling straight to his aching cock. Cassian, fuck, Cassian. You chanted them like a prayer and he swallowed them all. You were something holy, something absolutely divine and he felt himself losing it. He wanted to worship you forever, to stay buried in your cunt and die a happy man. Every man before him hadn’t appreciated you enough. He wanted to make you his, his beautiful creature, his goddess. 

Cassian slowed his movements, but didn’t halter them completely as he let you work through the wave of your pleasure. Your hand had gone lax in his hair, and he took the opportunity to pepper kisses across your skin — across your legs, across your cunt, even the sweaty crook of your thigh, anywhere his lips could reach. The hand that once gripped your thighs so tightly softened. Cassian rubbed gentle circles around your skin. He waited, and only until your body stopped shaking and you let out a small content sigh between your ragged breaths did he remove his fingers from you. 

He gave your core a slight smack and you let out a gasp, the action sending a spark throughout your body, leaving you aching and throbbing more than you had been seconds before. Cassian gave you a smirk. 

“Holy fuck,” You breathed, looking at him with wide eyes. “Cassian…” You watched as he stood up, bringing his fingers to his mouth as he licked off your juices once more. Your gaze dropped to his chest, and then to his throbbing cock. He stroked it as he looked at you, and your core ached once more, clenching at the thought of him inside you. Cassian stared at you, lips parted, drinking the sight of you eagerly. You pushed yourself further up, scooting back enough to lie flat on the middle of your bed. 

“You are a vision. A godsdamn vision,” Cassian spoke, the words falling off his tongue in a breathless confession, “Thought about this for so long.” He walked over to you. 

You gulped at the admission, thinking back onto your own fantasies of him, of his hands, of his mouth. You blinked, watching as he braced his hands on the bed. “Yeah?” 

Cassian nodded, bringing his hand to rub alongside your legs, tracing the curves of your body. As he crawled onto the bed, he let his hands wander with every movement. “Yeah, sweetheart.” 

The nickname made your heart clench, and you felt your wetness building once again, your pussy still sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Tell me.” You whispered. He straightened himself, moving to hover over you. With one arm supporting his weight, Cassian rocked his hips against yours. He molded his other hand to your breasts, sucking in a deep, ragged breath. You arched into his touch, mewing for more. You felt your heart throb, a warmth enveloping your chest. You couldn’t breathe. All you wanted to feel was him, his hands, his skin, his touch. His touch cascaded down your body, grabbing at your thighs, pulling them closer to him. 

“Rubbed myself raw at the thought of you underneath me like this.” He placed a kiss to your chest, quickly turning it into a small love bite, sucking at the skin tenderly. He released your skin with a brush of his teeth, bringing his fingers to softly touch the bruised skin.  His fingers returned to your torso, teasing your nipples once more, bringing them between his fingers. He bent his head down and took one of your nipples into his mouth. You arched into him, letting out a sweet sound at the wet contact. Cass swirled his tongue around the hardened nub before gently tugging it with his teeth, causing you to let out a cry of pleasure that quickly turned into a whine when he lifted his head. He lightly blew on your nipple, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure as your nipple peaked harder, responding to the contrast of his hot mouth and the cool air. He repeated the same motions with your other breast. 

You moaned as you felt him tease your entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it against your clit and around your inner lips. You impatiently bucked your hips, trying to guide him where you wanted him, where you ached for him, but Cassian’s firm hand on your lower abdomen halted your movements.You looked up at him with frustration, frowning at the sly grin on his mouth. 

“Cass, please,” You pleaded with broken whimpers. Cassian said nothing, moving his head down to kiss alongside your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth. He teased you more, and in a movement of exasperation, fueled by the swelling and throbbing of your heat, you pulled him towards you by his neck. You placed your forehead against his, looking at him through heavy eyes. “Cassian, please fuck me already.”

Cassian gave you a wolfish grin. “Since you asked so nicely,” he said, bringing you in for another kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the kiss wet with desire and something more you couldn't place. Taking a breath and pulling apart, Cassian moved his hand to grab his cock, stroking it once, twice, before lining it up with your entrance. 

You let out a deep moan as he pushed into you, feeling yourself stretching around him. Your previous climax had left you sensitive, so sensitive that the first rock of Cassian’s hips left you gasping for air. Cass let out a guttural groan, leaning his forehead against yours as he bottomed out. His hair clung to his forehead. You looked up at him, at his mouth open in pleasure, and ran your hands alongside his face. 

“Fuck,” His breath fanned your face. He looked at you with that deep intensity in his gaze that stirred your heart. The next thrust was just as slow, Cassian pushing in as deep as your body would allow. “You, You feel fucking incredible.”

You closed your eyes, the sensations overwhelming you. But soon, Cassian’s voice snapped again, and you felt one hand grab your face, his hand holding your jaw, his thumb rubbing at your lips. “Look at me, beautiful.” He said, letting his thumb dip into your mouth. 

You spread legs spread open to the sides as he began to vigorously slam into you with no restraint, never breaking the eye contact he'd so quickly grown to love. He drank it all in: the clapping noises of flesh and your sensual screams, the sensation of your wet heat wrapped around him, the sopping sounds of your love making, and the way your nails dug into his arms as he told you how good you felt. 

You rolled your hips, pushing against his merciless rhythm of thrusts. Cassian looked down at where your bodies met, at where his cock filled you,  entranced by the way your hips subconsciously tilted at the intrusion, at how your hole welcomed him. With a growl, he lifted your legs over his shoulders, positioning you perfectly for his rough, relentless thrusts. Your breath caught in your throat as your watched him fuck you, your heart pounding in her chest. “Cass, Cassian.”

“Keep saying my name, baby.” The pet name fell from his lips so effortlessly, caressing you like another wave of heat. “Tell me how good it feels.”

As he continued to move inside you, your thoughts jumbled into a mess of pure pleasure. You let out a string of incoherent words, your mind drunk on the feeling of him stretching you, hitting spots you’d never experienced before. “S’Good.” You whimpered. You wrapped your arms tighter across his shoulders, reaching to touch the delicate membrane of his wings. They twitched under your fingertips, and you felt Cassian let out a moan before the sound registered in your ear. He snaked a hand where your bodies met, finding your swollen, aching clit, and began to rub circles around it. You gasped. 

“I wish I could be here forever,” Cassian groaned, his lips hovering over your ears, “Stay buried inside of your cunt. Fuck you like this for the rest of my life.” You didn't know if Cassian was aware of what he was saying, aware of what it implied, but you didn't care. It all felt so good, and his words made every stroke even more pleasurable. You wanted this, you wanted this for the rest of your life– you’d never experienced something this great, never known this level of pleasure could exist. 

“Please, Cass. Please.” You didn't know what you were begging for, but Cassian hushed you, peckering kisses all over you, his head fell in the crook of your shoulder, moving to bring his teeth to the sensitive skin at your neck. You moaned. “Yes, yes. Mark me. I’m yours.”

Your words seemed to hit a part of him, forcing him to pull away and stare at you with wide eyes. He stilled inside of you.  "Say that again," he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. You brought your hands to his face, gently rubbing his cheeks. The tender, soft touch sent a shock straight to his cock, and he pulled you into a deep kiss. When you pulled apart for air, Cassian’s strokes began to pick up again, his forehead resting on yours. "Fuck me like I'm yours." You said to him, your voice filled with raw desire. 

Cassian’s mind shuffled through the past two weeks, the memories of the bartender hitting on you, of the men who never satisfied you. He felt a primal possessiveness, a need to take you faster, harder, deeper. His thrusts became more aggressive, more forceful, his wings caressing you as they wrapped around both of your bodies. You cried out in pleasure, your body arching beneath him, hands gripping the sheets as you took him deep inside you.

He watched you, admired your body sprawled on the bed before him, his hands on your hips, holding you at just the right angle. His mouth salivated at your beautiful face, flushed and red, and the way your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. The noise of your fucking was obscene - the soft squeaks of your bed, the wet sounds of your bodies slapping together, the moans and curse words and harsh breathing. His grip on your hips tightened and his thrusts became more erratic. 

Cassian’s movements became faster than you could process– one moment, he was thrusting into you, and the next, he was picking you up, maneuvering you so that you were sitting on his thighs, looking at him as he leaned back. You gasped at the new angle, at the feeling of sinking onto him completely.  His eyes locked on yours as you straddled him and his hands guided you up and down his cock, your bodies slick with sweat and desire. 

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping your ass, guiding you closer to him with each thrust. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you rode him harder, faster, your body craving more. “Ride me just like that, sweetheart.” His voice rang in your head, making you dizzy. You arched forward towards him. One hand left your ass, going to grab one of your breasts, fondling with your nipple.  His eyes were dark with desire, his gaze never leaving yours as he watched you take him deep inside you.

As you sank down onto him, his hips bucked up to meet you, your bodies connecting with a primal force. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, your pussy clenching around him as you moaned softly, your eyes closing in pleasure. But Cassian didn't want you to close your eyes. He wanted you to look at him, to see the raw fire in his eyes as he took you. He reached up, his hand wrapping around your throat, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.

"Look at me," he growled, his voice rough like gravel. The sound itself made you clench around him as he fucked you. You opened your eyes, your breath catching in your throat as you met his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and possession, and you could feel your orgasm building as you looked at him. His hand tightened around your throat as he began to fuck you harder, his hips bucking up to meet you.

You felt his cock sliding deeper inside you, your pussy clenching around him, your body shaking with pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, "Look at me. Let me see you fall apart on my cock."

As you felt the intensity of your orgasm building, he pulled you down, holding you to his chest, in place, as he continued to thrust into you. You moaned, your forehead resting against his, your eyes locked on his as he continued to fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of you. "Cassian, please, please, I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice hoarse. His hands gripped your ass roughly, pulling you closer to him, sliding deeper and deeper into you with each thrust. 

You felt his heart pounding beneath you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fucked you, his eyes never leaving yours.  He stared at you as he whispered, "I've got you, baby. I've got you."

Your body trembled, your moans grew louder, and soon your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave– your body shook with pleasure, your pussy clenching around him, milking him. You gasped his name, your body convulsing over him, your sensitivity consuming you completely. You felt him tense, his cock swelling even more, and you knew that he was close as well.

His thrusts were rough and hard, each one sending waves of warmth coursing through you. Your body responded to his movements, your cunt massaging him, clenching around him, making him groan in response. He increased his pace, his thrusts becoming even rougher, sloppy, and more urgent. His hips moved in a frenzy, each thrust driving him deeper into you, his cock sliding against your most sensitive spots, making you moan with pleasure. You felt his balls slapping against your ass, the sound and sensation driving you wild, your hands grasped at him, at his shoulders, at his neck, at his hair. 

You felt the tension building within him, his body tensing underneath you as he neared his climax. He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place as he drove into you. You were certain he’d leave marks in their wake, that your hips, your thighs, your body would be bruised with the evidence of his touch. It made you feral. 

Cassian’s breaths were ragged as he bucked into you roughly, a string of curses falling from his lips. Finally, he let out a low, primal grunt, his face contorted with pleasure as he came, his cum spilling deep within you. You felt the warmth of his seed filling you, the sensation making you shiver with pleasure. His thrusts became slower, gentler, as he tried to catch his breath, his body still trembling from the intensity of his orgasm. His grip on you loosened, and his hands began to rub up and down your spine, gently, softly, lovingly. 

You both laid there for a moment, his cock still deep inside you. Pushing yourself up, you sat upright, Cassian letting out a groan at the feeling of him still inside you, your juices leaking between your legs and onto his skin. His hands rubbed at either of your thighs, both of you breathing heavily as you stared at one another— lips swollen, skin flushed, hair disheveled. You let out a deep breath and let your mouth fall open slightly. 

“You are incredible.” Cassian breathed out, looking up at you, still entranced in your beauty. He admired the marks on your body from his mouth, and felt a small smirk growing on his lips. You let out a small exhausted laugh, your hands coming to rest at his shoulders, rubbing your thumb absentmindedly on his skin. 

“So,” You said, still breathless, your voice raspy, “What now?”

[writerinthewoods05]

Acotar Masterlist.

Requests are currently open! As of right now I only write X Fem Reader. Could change in the future but as of right now I don't, I apologize.

🌺 = Fluff 🌶️ = Smut 🔪 = Angst

💥 = Crack 🕊️ = Dead Dove; Do Not Eat

~~~~~~~~~~

Azriel Shadowsinger

You are my survival 🌶️

Azriel x Fem Reader

Word count: 5k

You and Azriel are mates. Az knows it, you don't, that is until a particularly hard training session when the truth finally come out.

Shadows and Snow Angels 🌺 🌶️ 🔪

Azriel x Fem Reader, Azriel x child OC

Series chapters: 7 so far

Normally when your mate Azriel comes home from the camps and asks you not to get mad it's because he brought home another wounded animal, not a baby boy...

Nyx Archeron

WIP The Leap 🌺 🌶️

Nyx Archeron x Fem Reader

You were Nyx best friend since you were toddlers, neither was ever seen without the other and you basically lived in his house. Nyx is about to leave to live in windhaven for a few years now that has an adult but since your just a potter you have to stay, unless... Unless the Valkyries gain a new member.

We're just friends, right? 🌺 🌶️ 🔪

Nyx Archeron x Fem Reader

Word count: 10.1k

Ever since Nyx turned 18 he was always flirting a new female. He hardly ever spent time with you anymore and you were upset! I mean you had every write to be, you were his best friend, Which meant you automatically deserved his undivided attention constantly. Rhys thinks otherwise, maybe he can try to knock some sense into you both.

Rhys Archeron

Lady in red 🌶️

Vampire Rhysand x Fem Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Rhys is always carful with you and absolutely never drinks from you, but when you finally decided to spend your first night together Rhys has some trouble controlling his hunger for you.

WIP Lavender skies 🌺

Rhysand x Fem Reader

Word count: ?

After a particularly hard day at the Illaryan camp all you can think about is getting home to your mate, who is... On the roof?

Cassian Archeron

WIP Big Illaryan baby 🌺

Cassian x plus size Fem Reader

Word count: ?

Cassian, Lord of bloodshed, Rhys's General, Leader of the Valkyries, currently laid face first down in your lap, complaining that he was about to die. Who knew all it took was the flu to have the mighty Illyrian whining like a toddler... Illyrian baby indeed.

Eris Vanserra

WIP Fox and the Hound 🌺 🌶️ 🔪

Eris Vanserra x Fem Reader

Series chapters: 4 so far

The hound hunts the fox because his master taught him to. Hunting of all he's ever known, besides foxes are lesser than the hounds anyway, right? Coming across a lower fairy in the woods is hardly uncommon for Eris, so he wasn't surprised to meet you when he was walking his hounds. Though ever since Jesminda, his Father banned lower fairies from crossing into the woods around the manor. Eris had never disobeyed his father before but a deep pull inside begs him to keep you a secret, maybe foxes and hounds are more similar than he thought.

Lucien Vanserra

Long hair and Long healing 🌺

Lucien x Fem Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Tamlin finally gives Lucian a day off to spend time with his mate due to being snowed in, some times spending time together is also spending time

Helion Spellcleaver

Sinful slumbers 🌺 🌶️

Helion x Fem Reader

Word count: 2.3

Your mate has been performing his duties as high lord all day. who can blame you for pulling him into bed as soon as he comes back to you...

Morragin

Tarquin

Amren

Tamlin

[azsazz]

Ride for Me

Cassian x Reader [Starfall Week Day 1]

Summary: @starfallweek Day 1 Prompt: Rumor has it, stardust increases attraction, and character A could really use some help right now…

Warnings: None

Word Count: 804

Notes: Starfall Week 😍

_________________________________________

“Sweetheart,” Cassian chuckles against your lips, groaning when you slide your tongue easily into his mouth, grazing it languidly against his, “We’re going to be late.” 

“Don’t care,” you pant, pressing even closer to his large body. He’s so warm, solid in all of the right places. Namely, his cock stirring against your hip. “Need you so badly, Cassian. Please.” 

You want to whine when his large, calloused hand caresses your jaw, gently straightening to his full height. His hazel eyes are swimming with an emotion that is gone before you can pick up on it, but the soothing motion of his thumb against your cheek helps settle the raging need inside of you. 

“What’s gotten into you today?” he wonders. Then, as if he’s made some sort of mistake, he tacks on quickly, “Not that I’m complaining. I love when you’re all needy for me…” His voice turns rougher and he pinches your hindsight which makes you jolt against him. He grunts a little at the feeling. Maybe you don’t need to be at the House of Wind on time…

You shrug bashfully, cheeks pinkening. “I don’t know,” you admit, “There’s something about Starfall that always gets me a little…”

“Aroused?” he teases, dipping down to pepper your cheeks with kisses because you’re too adorable not to. “No need to get all shy on me, sweetheart. I can smell it on you, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever smelled.” 

His words make your grip tighten around his neck and your thighs tremble. His hands are so big where they’re settled on your hips and you just want to feel those hands all over your skin, running down your sides, cupping your breasts, slipping into your cunt—

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. You shiver as his breath tickles your throat. Cassian digs his nose in, right where he can scent you the most. “You might just break me yet.” 

“It wouldn’t take much,” you croon, dragging your nails right down his back, reveling in the way that his grip on you tightens and he nips at your neck. “We can be a little late,” you offer, but it sounds more like a desperate plea. You’re uncomfortably wet, the ache between your legs distracting and in need of relief.

“We can,” Cassian answers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. You squeeze your eyes shut, moving even closer into him, pressing your breasts up against his chest. “But then everyone would know that I fucked you so hard that you couldn’t walk.” 

There’s always something about Starfall that has you feeling like this. Maybe it’s the energy in the air, the excitement of seeing the greatest Night Court tradition, spending it with your mate. The celebration leaves you feeling needy, like those colorful star clusters darting across the night sky brings a spirituous sense to the court, to your soul.

It started early this year.

“So maybe we don’t show up at all,” you try to joke, but a night alone with your mate under the stars sounds too perfect, you don’t think Cassian would ever go for it.

As if you’re right, Cassian pulls away slightly, staring deeply into your eyes. His face is serious as his gaze flickers between each of your eyes, taking you in. “Is that what you want, mate?” he asks softly, and it makes your heart ache a little. 

You’d love to spend the night alone with Cassian, but you understand how important it is for him to spend it with the rest of the Inner Circle. It’s been an important tradition to him for centuries now, long before you came into the picture. You couldn’t ruin that for him, you wouldn’t ruin that for him.

You part your lips to speak but Cassian’s already swooping you into his arms and bounding for your bedroom. “What…?” 

His voice is gruff, sure of his words as he strides for your room. “My mate needs me,” he says, and butterflies explode in your stomach. “Everyone is going to understand that,” Cassian adds softly when he feels the worry emanating through your shared bond. He plants a reassuring kiss to your forehead, shouldering his way through the doorway. “And if they don’t, they can get fucked.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you beam and he laughs. You snuggle closer into his chest, loving the way that it rumbles with his laughter.

“You’ve succeeded in that, sweetheart,” Cassian whispers, finally setting you down on your feet right at the foot of the bed. Your heart jumps into your throat when he gets down on one knee, but he’s lifting your foot, helping you out of one shoe and then the other. “Now, let me help you out of this dress.”

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Cassian x Bunny!Reader

Cass returns to the House of Wind, his ego bruised, but as long as he has his Bun, he’ll be okay.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, bunny-hybrid reader, implied pet play (ears, tail etc), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size difference/size kink

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Cassian | Cass & Bun AU

The house was empty, silent, save the soft footsteps that scampered from the small innocuous door leading to the 10,000 steps into the grander stairwell leading to the bedrooms below. Your ear twitched, long and furred, before you slid through the thick oak door and into Cassian’s bedroom. 

Inside you surveyed the room, empty, a few books scattered on the low table by the fire, abandoned along with the half drunk glass of red wine, still warmed by the hand that had left fingerprints on the bowl, under the Illyrian chair where black boots, fallen on their side as if kicked off. 

So he wasn’t here. Your ears twitched again, the left standing proudly from your hair, listening intently. You reached up to itch your right ear, the lop-sided one that folded halfway down, making it harder to pinpoint your quarry. A door creaked, and suddenly your heart raced, no longer feeling so confident as the hunter, you turned on quiet feet to the once shut door to the bathing room. 

Inside, the bath, wide enough for not just Cassian’s shoulders but also his wings, still steamed. 

Before you could take another breath you were in his arms, corded muscle wrapped around you, hands tickling your ribs and his nose pressed to the back of your neck, breathing you in. 

“There you are, Bun!” His voice rumbled through your back, a shiver running down your spine from the puff of warm air on your sweat cool neck. Being an Ostarina came with many advantages, being able to climb the 10,000 steps on your light, bouncy, feet was one of them. The tall, soft ears that grew from the top of your head should have been another, if only Cassian’s hunting abilities weren’t superior, you also enjoyed your little tail, a tuft of hair in the same soft pinks and whites as your ears, bordered by darker brown fur above it, that protruded from just above your bottom and lifted your skirt up slightly…, and was now wagging against Cass’ chest. 

“Cass!” You giggled, squirming in his grasp, feet dangling above the ground. He swung you around until you both fell onto the bed. He smiled at you, happy and content, before pulling you to sit in his lap and letting you feel the hardness growing under his too-small towel. 

Humming happily he snuck his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, pushing aside your damp, silk panties to feel his favourite part of you.

“Always so happy to see me, Bun, you certainly know how to sooth my bruised ego.” He retracted his fingers, now sticky with your arousal. It was so easy to get you going and so difficult to sate you once you were aroused. Like all bunnies you loved to fuck, insatiable and relentless, a true match for Cassian’s equally voracious appetites. 

“Always, Cass.” You bent down to nuzzle your nose against his, “who hurt your ego?” Concern washed over your face as you ran a cautious hand down his tattooed chest, checking for any physical bruises or new scars. He allowed you to survey him, tying his long damp hair back. Your hands cupped his cheeks, then slid down his neck, no cuts, no blood. 

“Oh, my sweet Bunny, nothing I can’t handle.” He gave you a sad smile, his hands dancing up and down your thighs again, “nothing that can’t be fixed by being here with you.” 

 “And how can I fix you now, my mighty General.” You teased, rubbing your nose against his cheek and inhaling deeply again, he was like a warm fire, the embers already crackling merrily, both comfort and raw power at the same time. His hands held you close, letting you scent him, feeling your heartbeat steady now you were together. 

“Just by being yourself.” He cooed, shifting enough to push your damp panties aside and slide a single thick finger through your folds and into your tight heat. Wet and waiting, just for him. 

Cassian groaned as you clenched down, grinding into his palm and mewling into his broad chest. 

“So needy tonight, Bunny.” He couldn’t help but rut up against you, adding a second finger as you cried out with need. 

“Please, Cass, please. I am. I am needy, I need you.” You clawed at his chest, rubbing yourself against him, your soft tail moving so quickly against his legs he swore you were vibrating with want. 

“Poor Bun.” He pinched your cheeks, his hand sliding higher until he could scratch the base of your ear, making your leg twitch in response. He always knew exactly where to touch, where to apply pressure, but you wanted more. 

“Please, please, Cass, I can’t wait.” You started to bob up and down in his lap, your ears moving as well and he leant back, bracing his weight on one hand, to watch you take your pleasure from him, breasts heaving under your almost translucent shirt. He grew harder, if that were possible, at the thought of your need for him. Your desire, so consuming, that you could take any part of him, even just his fingers, and lose yourself so completely. 

“Fuck, Bun, my Bunny, how could I say no to you.” He rolled you both over in a flash, every bit the warrior as his muscles flexed, his wings spanning above you and blocking out the delicate faelight that had been painting the room in washes of gold and silver. Now it was red, filtered through those vast wings. You knew he could hold you down, move you how he wanted, you knew because he had and it was a game you both loved to play. Hunter and prey, chasing down the empty corridors of the House of Wind. But now, that pain behind his eyes, this was no game, this was no cage, no trap, this was a roost, a burrow, and he needed your comfort as much as you needed his protection. 

Cassian’s wings dipped, cutting off everything but the two of you, your mingled scents, like the wind in the Illyrian Steppes, rich and overwhelming, and he followed. His lips were chapped but warm, pressed against your own intently, tasting and claiming in equal measure. 

“Need you, Bunny.” He growled, hooking one leg over his arm to spread you wide beneath him, the insistent press of his leaking head claiming you too, splitting you open while you moaned into each other’s mouths, swallowing every wanton sound that escaped between you. “Fuck, always so fucking good for me.” His voice was rough with lust, rumbling through the room. 

“For you, Cass, all for you.” You wailed, looking down at where he disappeared inside of you, only for the outline of him to reappear, pressing into your lower stomach. 

He caught your eye, grinning, and placed his palm over you, applying the slightest pressure until you saw stars, thrashing beneath him. His other hand was firmly planted next to you, but he dropped down onto his elbow to pepper kisses across your cheeks and nose, his fingers teasing the sensitive sides of your long ears. He nuzzled into your neck, his weight holding you down against the mattress, every line of his body melded to yours while his wings shielded you from even the room beyond. 

“Cassian, Cass-” you panted, “fuck, Cassian, I love you.” You moaned, squeezing down around his length and he felt your walls flutter against him when you came with a low moan, tipping your head back to reveal the long, delicate column of your throat. 

“Love you too Bun, so much, so fucking much.” His thrusts became erratic and you took your opportunity to move your hands from where they’d been tangled in the now messy bun on top of his head to the webbed wings that framed him. A single finger, tracing a blood red line down the delicate patagium of his wing was all it took for him to come undone above you, shaking with pleasure and spurting deep inside of you with such ferocity that his cum leaked out around him and onto the sheets below. 

“Cass,” you sighed, sated if only for the time being, and smiled up at him with hazy, loving eyes. 

He fell to the bed next to you, tucking his wings back behind him and pulling you into his side, one hand on your head, petting your ears as you lay against his chest, the other idly patting your bottom and stroking your tail, the fur fluffed up from being rubbed against the bedding. 

“Do you feel better now, my fiersome General-” your nose pressed into his ribs, fingers on his muscled stomach - “my lord of bloodshed!” You raised a hand dramatically before lowering it to pinch his peaked nipple. 

“Ouch-” he batted your hand away playfully, pinning it back on his chest beneath his own. “Careful, Bunny-” he teased. 

“You still have some feelings to work out?” You asked, sincerely, and he nodded. Good, you were already restless again, and rubbed back against his hands. “Want me to show you how us bunnies like to work out our frustrations?” 

He opened one eye, smirking, “I think I have some idea, but I’m always happy for a demonstration.” 

You straddled his lap once more, “I’d better get bouncing then.” 

[mylovelies-docx]

This is getting a lot of love recently with the new season of Andor out, so I'm just gonna shamelessly reblog!

Social Cues

A/N: Wow. Okay. So it's been a couple of years since I've written anything and since I promised everyone that I was working on a Cassian fic.

Welp. Here's that fic now - only two years later than I was expecting.

My bad.

Take this 20k fic as an apology/your due/something that I wanted to give you years ago.

Plot: You and Cassian go undercover as a married couple, but things take a turn for the worst when your past finds you.

C/W: Angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, reader has an abusive mother (featured heavily), gendered reader (daughter), no use of Y/N, *SMUT* (18+, Minors DNI), Not beta'd, also not proofread (if I spent any more time on this, I would never get it out here). Probably more, let me know if I need to include something.

I started writing this before the show came out (which I have not watched... I know, I know.) Anyway, as is always the case with any Cassian fic that *I* prefer, there is no such thing as canon.

“Married,” you echo quietly in disbelief. You have never been more shocked in your life; and when you quickly glance over, Cassian apparently hasn’t been, either. His jaw is tense and his eyebrows have raised slightly.

General Draven had just dropped the specifics of your mission, and it was not one that you could have anticipated. You and Cassian were to pose as a married couple that had just moved into an affluent neighborhood full of Imperial officers, weapons dealers, and senators.

In other words, right into a Sarlacc pit. Only this situation was thrice as deadly.

“With all due respect, General, this isn’t something either of us have experience with. Would it not be better to send Rishi and O’tal?” Cassian suggests diplomatically. 

You nod your head at Cassian’s idea, showing your support. Rishi and O’tal are a real married couple in intelligence for the Alliance, so they are uniquely fit for this specific placement. 

“They’re currently on assignment right now. And besides: you two are the best intelligence officers we have. Mothma and I don’t want this handled by anyone else.” Draven’s compliment of your abilities would have been more than enough to placate you if you weren’t still reeling from the previous revelation.

“Yes General, I know what you’re saying and I thank you sincerely for the commendation, but I’m still unsure if this is a wise decision,” you rebut. You have never once doubted a mission assignment, and you know Cassian hasn’t either, but this was territory neither of you have ever found yourselves in. “This will be the first joint mission for either of us. Would it not be possible for a different relationship? Perhaps a hired guard would suffice for one of us?”

Sure, you’ve seduced and courted marks before, but bringing along a partner that you needed to present a sense of physical and emotional intimacy with? That is something entirely out of your realm of expertise.

Draven is stationed at the head of the table, using the projection screen in front of him to present information, schematics, and diagrams. From his vantage point, Draven watches a slight frown mar Cassian’s face at your suggestion, but it’s gone just as soon as it appears.

“I understand your hesitancy, Captains, but rest assured that we have exhausted all other avenues,” Draven consoles. “But you both will be in control of the gritty details, so you can make it work. We’re only providing the accommodations and whatever alibis you require.”

“Yes, sir.” You and Cassian acquiesce with no further argument. You look at Cassian out of the corner of your eye, hoping he can’t see the real reason for the hesitation.

This is going to be an adventure neither of you can prepare for.

***

“This is going to be a difficult enough mission, so I think sticking as close to the facts as possible is our best option,” you explain to Cassian, jotting down bullet points and ideas on your datapad to relay back to Mon Mothma and Draven so that they can fabricate your history once it’s been decided.

“I estimate a 33% chance of your entire plan falling apart, Captain (Y/L/N),” K2 chimes in.

“Agreed.” Cassian ignores K2’s comment and speaks directly to you. “We can use our first names for simplicity, but we need a surname,” Cassian recommends from the co-pilot's chair. 

“Would you like to know why?” K cuts in.

You appreciate the fact that you and Cassian are on the same wavelength about using your own names. You haven’t discussed it with him yet, so your similar logic on this bodes well for the rest of the discussion and the mission as a whole.

“Why don’t we just stick with Andor, for simplicity’s sake? It’s a common enough name and you’ll respond right away if someone calls for us. Plus, we both go by so many codenames that no one will ever think to search for us by this one.” 

You’re swiping away on your datapad to avoid either of them seeing your reddened cheeks, so you don’t see Cassian’s ears flush subtly at your suggestion as well. Your heart flutters madly, causing a pang in your chest to the beat of your ‘new’ name.

Cassian clears his throat and readjusts in his seat. “That could work,” he remarks coolly while rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

K2 turns his head quickly to observe Cassian, the metal joints whirring with the motion. The droid begins to speak and Cassian glares at him, but there is no reigning in K2.

“Because two can keep a secret only if one of them is dead,” K elaborates on his one-sided talkingpoint, still observing Cassian’s reaction to your recommendation on becoming Mrs.Captain Andor, however temporarily.

You hurry on to get your mind off the impossible fantasy the name has conjured up for you. “Great. I’m just trying to think of the likely scenarios that will be brought up at dinner parties or Imperial galas. Obviously how we met, connections to the Empire…”

K is just being a bugslut with his next comment.

“And I’d prefer if it was Cassian who remained living.”

The aforementioned man shoots K2 another glare, wordlessly saying “behave”. The droid shrugs his large mechanical shoulders and mimes a zipping motion with his fingers over his audio port.

You roll your eyes at K2’s insistence that your plan will be a failure and at his obvious distaste for you. You’re unsure what it is about you that he finds so distasteful, but you find yourself wishing he tolerated you a little more. Perhaps then, Cassian would join Rogue One more often on small adventures and get-togethers.

Being around Cassian is easier than being with anyone else; you don’t seem to exhaust yourself as quickly or as often with him. He is a source of calm, controlled energy that speaks to the weary parts of your soul.

Focus. 

“So. Instead of saying we met during a Rebel council meeting, how about we meet in the middle of truth and lie? Keep the time frame the same, just change the location. So for instance: we met five standard years ago at the launch of an Imperial class-II Star Destroyer. There were so many of those around that time that no one should question it – and even if they do, we could pretend we were too drunk on Merenzane Gold or love or whatever to notice anything but each other.” 

You are proud of yourself for keeping this discussion so professional despite your intrusive thoughts. Your heart is racing and your hands are slightly trembling with anxiety, but your voice is steady and you still sound confident. Maker! Why can’t you find the same focus and steadfastness that you have on missions? You can only hope that your professionalism will kick in once you land and begin the assignment in earnest.

“You were wearing a pink dress,” Cassian murmurs, staring distantly at the stars passing over the cockpit’s transparisteel. He mutters it to himself mostly, but you still hear.

You snap your head up, eyes large and mouth slightly parted, finding that he has his hand spread across the lower half of his face with his head turned away from you. You had been operating remotely for the Alliance for a while in various social circles and planets prior to settling down on base. You had just finished with a mission and were wearing a pink dress when you met Cassian for the first time during a debrief of your findings.

You shouldn’t be surprised that a man who had grown up as a spy can recall details as small as what you had been wearing, since you can also do the same. But you had been absolutely nothing to him then, so why would he bother to pay you any attention?

“And you had your A280-CFE heavy blaster strapped to your thigh,” you divulge. 

Your mind is still trying to wrap itself around the fact that Cassian had been watching you for far longer than you realized. He turns his head to look at you in surprise and catches your eye. Your puzzled expression is revealing too much of your thought process, so you drop your gaze from his and return to your holopad.

K2 breaks the tension with his usual tact.

“There’s a 93% chance you’re both lying to yourselves.”

“That’s enough, K,” Cassian reprimands, not for the first time.

“I’m only stating facts and highly calculated odds,” K defends himself.

“Facts as you see them,” you point out distractedly.

“Oh, I see a lot more than you do. A lot more.”

You’re still too self-involved to reply further and Cassian steers the conversation back to a safer topic: your mission. 

“Anyway.” He clears his throat. “Let’s say we were dating for...six months? Eight months? Enough time to get to know each other, but short enough to accommodate our ‘love at first sight’.” Cassian lets out one compact ‘ha!’ at the notion of falling in love with a total stranger without knowing who they were.

“Eight months seems reasonable. That would give me a few opportunities to let you meet family and friends, and vice versa. Speaking of: do we have any?” you question, back to yourself after banishing any and all thoughts of Cassian’s motivation to study you so intently. You can only hope to gather more data as the mission progresses.

“Hmm,” Cassian ponders, unsure what option would be best. He scrubs a hand across his stubbled chin and cheeks in thought. “No family seems suspicious, but we don’t want to create too many to keep track of.” He reasons out. “These people are well-connected and will be looking into our history, so we need to think of how our team back at base can create the strongest alibi.”

“True. And there’s no doubt they would recognize our infamous friends by name. That really narrows down our options.” Your lips are pursed to the side in thought and your chin is resting on your closed first. 

Your thinking pose works because you have an idea come to mind. Cassian stops his musings on ‘our friends’ to find your delighted expression when he turns at your little ‘a-ha!’ and finger snap.

“Do you remember anything about my mission on Aria Prime? My alias had a few family members we can repurpose.” You’re relieved that you’ve figured out a way to use established plants and make the intelligence officer’s work back at base easier.

“Antolin and Mauria, yes?” He confirms.

“Yes,” you verify, flustered yet again by Cassian’s attention to detail. “I’m glad you read my report – makes this easier for us.” 

“I read all your reports,” Cassian remarks before realizing his error. “I mean. I-I read all the reports. Everyone’s. It’s best to have a clear understanding of the bigger picture,” he corrects hastily.

You’re struggling to understand why, why, why, but your heart flutters nonetheless at the small thrill you receive. 

“Like I said,” K-2SO’s modulator is pitched to where only Cassian can hear, “lying to yourselves.”

***

This discussion had started a parsec ago, but is still going with no end in sight. Neither of you can agree on this, but neither are willing to yield.

“The more we use pet names, the less people will remember our real ones. First introductions we only give our names once and then use only nicknames after. People like them will be too embarrassed to have forgotten a name and won’t ask for them again.” 

Cassian is making excellent points, but your insides squidge in a nice uncomfortable way whenever he offers up an example. You can’t help but remember all the times your marks had forgotten your name, so they used demeaning pet names to refer to you. Maybe that’s why you were so easily onboard for using your names on this mission when you’ve never done it before. One: because it’s easier, and two: because you don’t feel as if you hear it spoken often enough.

Three: because you don’t want Cassian to forget your name when this war eventually claims your life.

You’re making yourself unduly anxious with the thought of that eventuality, and your response comes off melancholic. “They won’t remember me anyway.”

Cassian is thrown off by this. How could anyone forget you? He had a hard time not thinking about you some days. 

“Why do you say that?”

You give him a sad sort of expression, a wry smile turning your lips. “Isn’t that our job?” you question him. “Making yourself completely unrecognizable to the point that if your target ever saw you again, they wouldn’t even notice?”

Cassian can see where you’re coming from, but the look on your face and the tone of your voice makes him wonder at how lonely you feel during missions.

“As long as you are yourself around those you care about, it makes it worth it. Yes?” Cassian counters.

A small, wondering smile graces your lips as you lean back against the hold and look up. “Yeah, I guess so…”

You’re thinking of all the fun you have with Jyn and Bodhi when she drags you both away from base to explore, or when you’re all laughing at the exasperated look on Baze’s face when Chirrut walks into blaster fire with only his prayers to guide him. 

Or when you catch the relieved look Cassian throws you after a near-miss, like he’s impossibly glad that you’re okay. You always point finger-blasters at him with a smirk, trying to diffuse the situation, but he usually just shakes his head and tells you to focus.

Ahh. There you are, a voice in your mind whispers suddenly. It’s a cool and sinister voice, one you had not heard in some time.

You startle, knowing that the disembodied voice cannot see you physically does nothing to prevent a sense of overwhelming fear from taking over. You try to take a series of deep breaths to calm your racing heart and slow the pounding of blood in your ears. Hoping repetitive and familiar motions will calm you down and refocus your mind, you begin to rub up and down one arm with your knuckles. With the amount of pressure you’re using, you’ll end up with bruises but the dull pain helps.

Cassian sees you fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, but when he turns toward you, you’re already up and walking to a more private area.

“E-excuse me,” you stutter out. Your legs feel weak and you run one hand along the wall to keep you steady.

“Are you okay?” Cassian asks, preparing to stand up and follow you.

“Yeah. Yeah, ‘m fine. Just give me a moment.” Your voice is quiet, but you throw a shaky smile over your shoulder to try and stop Cassian from following you. You make it to one of the rooms and slide in, the door hissing closed behind you.

“That,” K2 says.

“What?” Cassian asks his companion, confused by the non sequitur.

“That is precisely why I don’t trust her. She hides too much,” the droid explains.

“She’s one of us, K,” Cassian defends. “We all have secrets.”

“Yes, but our secrets don’t make us run away. She’s hiding something big: I know it.” The droid asserts, giving his head one sharp nod to drive the point.

***

You survey the progress of your “home” being put together from the lofty heights of the balcony overlooking the foyer. Everything is white and gray and black, mimicking the Empire’s color scheme.

You hate it.

The only pop of color is your elaborate dress. The emerald gown is the height of Coruscant fashion, and you needed everyone who saw you and Cassian dock to know that you are important people.

Your quarters span the top two levels of one of the tallest towers in a swanky residential sector. The prestigious location alone should influence everyone’s opinions, but you also need to look the part of a spoiled and arrogant wife. So you have to dress and act accordingly.

You sense Cassian walking up behind you; his presence is unmistakable and you recognize his gait as his shoes tap against the expensive flooring. 

Your fingers grip the balustrade imperceptibly tighter, the only reaction you will allow yourself. Since shutting down on the U-wing to try and prevent the voice’s return, you’ve been able to keep your thoughts and emotions in check: no racing heart, blushed cheeks, or errant feelings. This is the only way you know how to keep your mind your own.

Cassian places his hands on either side of yours, trapping you between his warm body and the railings. His chest is pressing into your back and his sharp chin is resting on your shoulders. You weren’t prepared for this level of fake intimacy so soon, so your breath hitches in your throat and escapes as a soft gasp. You feel his warm breath fan across your ear as he pretends to nuzzle into your neck.

“Kay and I placed the data collectors throughout the public rooms.” Cassian mumbles, moving from one side of your neck to the other. You tilt your head in the semblance of allowing him room to kiss along your skin, growing hot where his breath fans now and goosebumps where it had once been. “We’re ready for the company to arrive.”

“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. You’re developing a pit in your stomach at the proximity, but you grasp Cassian’s hands under yours for the illusion. Your palms are sweating and you’re sure that Cassian can feel it, but he continues resting his lips near your ear.

You glance down at the individuals moving your furnishings throughout the rooms, catching one gray-skinned and multi-eyed lifeform watching the two of you surreptitiously. You scowl down at them, feeling Cassian’s head turn enough to give them a side-eye as well. They turn back to arranging the many fire-waters and spirits you bought in preparation for your first gathering as new residents.

Some aliens begin making their way from where they were setting up the sleeping quarters behind you and Cassian. As they’re passing, Cassian pulls away from you. You take a deep breath to recenter yourself and cool your skin.

“Come, Love. Let’s break in the new bed,” Cassian says, loud enough for the passing workers to overhear.

You feign a saccharine smile and allow him to place his hand on the small of your back. Cassian leads you to your shared bedroom, dropping contact as soon as the door closes behind the two of you. You both sweep the room for any foreign devices and find none. You remain standing on opposite sides of the room, aware of the awkward atmosphere.

“I am sorry for that. A few of the workers were watching us,” Cassian apologized. One hand is scratching the scruff along his chin to hide his discomfort.

“I saw. It was an effective way to give them observations to take back to their superiors if some are spies like we suspect.” You carefully place yourself on the edge of the luxurious bed, taking this time to rest your feet before you need to get ready for the evening’s plans.

“Yeah…” Cassian draws, giving you a quizzical look. 

He knows that you’re on a mission now, but your tone and mannerisms are throwing him off. He always felt at least a sense of comradery with you, but this pliant and civil manner you’ve taken up bothers him for reasons he won’t can’t name.

You ignore his probing eyes. The voice in your mind is too recent an experience to let yourself relax even slightly. Your muscles are rigid from the straight posture of the elite woman you’re playing and from the stress of keeping your mind calm and under control. A headache is starting to form.

“I take it that K is situated?” You inquire of Cassian as you stand with bare feet. You pad over to the extensive closet space, selecting an outfit for tonight.

“Yes. He’s taken the ship to the lower levels and will stay there while we’re here; he’s close enough if we run into any issues.” 

Cassian’s voice is still low as he follows you to the wardrobe, just in case any of the movers are lurking outside the door. You both stand back to back as you each survey your arsenal of clothing for this mission. You run your hands lovingly over the soft fabrics, happy that your sensitive skin won’t have to endure anything rough for this mission. Cassian’s clothed shoulder blades scrape along your exposed back, sending imperceptible shivers down your spine. 

You quickly pull out a beautiful dress and move away from Cassian. You call over your shoulder to him as you near the refresher. “I’m wearing pink, unless you don’t have anything to match.”

“Of course I do. You selected the wardrobe,” he reminds you. 

You hadn’t seemed yourself since the ship, which Cassian picked up on immediately since you were so sure and confident at the beginning. He is trying hard to understand your abrupt change.

You shut the door on Cassian and take in the immaculate space around you. You hang the dress so it can air out while you apply your makeup and arrange your hair and try to enjoy the solitude while you can, knowing that tonight and all the nights to come will wear you thin. 

***

Cassian comes in a while later, taking note of your elaborate hairstyle and details of your thoad-eye makeup. He feels the nearly overwhelming need to comment how stunning you are and how similar you look now to when he saw you that first time, but holds his tongue. He doesn’t want to make this any more awkward for either of you.

You had been staring listlessly into the mirror before you until Cassian walked in. You can barely recognize the person staring back; hollow eyes, down-turned lips, dull skin. She isn’t you, but she is who you need to be until you’re sure the phantom hasn’t found you.

You move your eyes to study Cassian as he stands in the doorway. He looks handsome in his party-ware, the organic tones complementing his features and your pastel gown nicely. But you don’t dwell on how the sight alone of Cassian in something other than his everyday wear threatens the stability of the winged creatures in your stomach. You want them to be dormant, need them to be, but something about the man behind you sets them to tittering.

Since closing yourself off from your emotions and the galaxy at large, you have come to realize that you haven't been as careful as you should have. Despite your better judgment and without conscious effort, you have formed attachments in the Rebellion. Found yourself building relationships that mean something to you. Your fellow rebels from Rogue One are your life-line in this never-ending war.

Your bond with Cassian is one you are especially fond of.

You have grown to care for the man in a way that you know you shouldn’t. Your detachment now allows for you to reflect on your feelings in an objective way, understanding that you put yourself and the entire Rebellion at risk without fully realizing.

It stops today.

You harden what little bit of your heart you can still feel and fill in the small, Cassian shaped hole that had started to carve itself there.

You take your eyes from where they had locked onto his own. You can sense his hesitation to approach you and his inner turmoil that feels so like your own had earlier in the day. So while dabbing under your eyes for fallout and around your lips to neaten the line, you speak up.

“I’ll be done in time to greet our guests with you, but I need a few moments.”

Your voice is flat and devoid of any warmth that it once held for the man. Cassian notes immediately that your countenance has taken another turn, one that has pulled you even further away from him. His chest tightens. He sets his mouth in grim acceptance and leaves with a small nod in your direction.

***

All throughout the evening, a sense of foreboding had settled itself deep in your bones. You can feel it getting heavier and heavier as the party drags on, weighing down your body and worsening your already sickening headache. You continue to laugh and smile demurely despite it, but the bright light from the chandelier hanging above your head is sending bolts of pain behind your eyes.

In order to present a united front to these Imperial officers and sympathizers, Cassian has his arm wrapped around your waist and you’re resting your hand over top of his on your hip. The warmth of his hand as it caresses your curves sends heat between your thighs completely against your will. Your mind and heart know what you can’t have, but your body has wants of its own.

When an interesting piece of information comes up in conversations, one of you will squeeze the other’s hand in silent communication to pry further. It arose through no effort on either of your parts, but Cassian feels the rightness in the subtle exchanges. It feels like you’ve been partners for longer than a day, fake married for longer than a day, fake intimate for longer than a day with the way it feels to hold you. 

He can’t get over the rightness of having you in his arms. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt, even with the few past partners he’s allowed himself to have between missions. He can feel the heat of your skin beneath his palm and through the fabric of your dress, making him want to pull you all the more closer as the night wears on and the open windows bring a chill to the crowded room.

You’re both in the middle of a conversation with a commanding officer when it feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room, like a cabin losing pressure out in space. Your eyes widen and your heart races as your sense of foreboding from earlier ramps up into full fight-or-flight mode. You’re hastily scanning the faces in the room, terrified.

Cassian feels you tense in his arms. With a quick glance at your face, he knows something is wrong. Your eyes are flickering around the room and the pulse in your neck is prominent against the stiffness of your body. He tries to catch your eye or squeeze your hip, but he gets no response.

Quickly and subtly shifting your body behind his, he excuses the two of you from your conversation. You don’t feel yourself moving, too caught up in trying to find the source of this feeling. 

You’re intimately familiar with this presence, having spent years in its company. You had tried so hard and traveled lightyears away in order to escape, but all your efforts seem futile now. You should have gone into hiding, should have locked yourself away on a little no-name moon, should have done something more. 

A whimper escapes your mouth without permission, and Cassian’s heart lurches at the frightened sound. He’s always known you to be the bravest, strongest person he has ever met, but the woman in his arms right now looks like a scared child, looks like someone he doesn’t know. He would take your cold and detached manner from the previous day over this. 

Because this? This scares him. And Cassian does not scare easily.

He leads you into a secluded area of the penthouse, away from prying Imperial eyes and whatever has caused your body to convulse with tremors. He still has his arm wrapped securely around your waist holding you close to him, and his other hand has a gentle but firm grip around your upper arm that is pressed tightly into his side. Cassian is practically dragging you away as your knees refuse to hold you up.

Cassian finds a small cupboard furthest away from the party. He looks around to be sure no one is near enough to listen in, and pulls you inside. A dim light turns on above your heads and Cassian places you gently against a wall. You start to slide down, but he puts his arms under yours, giving you support.

You can still feel her, can sense her proximity and her sinister presence in the back of your mind. It’s been so long since you were last with her, but your body must have known somehow that she was drawing nearer. Your headaches and anxiety that had only heightened throughout the party should have made you think.

But you didn’t.

Having Cassian at your side had made you feel safe, no matter that you were actively avoiding having any feelings for him. You have known his character well from watching and interacting with him over the years, learning to trust him and his calm and reserved nature. You were remiss in thinking that you could keep yourself and your feelings away from him during this mission. 

Now that the walls you carefully constructed on the ship have crumbled around you, you can’t help but feel again. Can’t help but feel the warmth radiating from his chest and into yours from where he’s standing so close to you. Can’t help but feel his breath against your face as he’s begging you to tell him what’s wrong. Can’t help but feel the pressure in your head slowly dissipating as you force yourself to breathe in time with Cassian’s instructions.

You readjust against the wall after a short while, standing taller and trying to regain feeling in your legs. Cassian’s hand shifts from the wall and cups the side of your face so that he can look into your eyes. You can see the question in his concerned gaze and answer in a still-weak voice.

“My… my mother. She’s here.”

Cassian’s brow furrows slightly as he wonders what that could mean for you and this mission. He opens his mouth to ask for more details, but you shake your head.

“She’s - we’re - I don’t know!” You cry out softly. You bring your hands up and grasp the lapels of Cassian’s shimmersilk jacket as you try to ground yourself and explain. “She’s in my head, Cassian. I can feel her. I can hear her. I couldn’t get away, and now she’s found me.” 

You suck in a deep breath through trembling lips. You look deeply into Cassian’s eyes, watching as a dawning understanding fills them. 

“I’m scared, Cassian,” you admit.

Cassian wraps both of his hands around your head with his palms against your neck, using his thumbs to sweep softly under your eyes, catching the tears that had fallen without you noticing. Your breathing is still stuttering in and out of your lungs, and Cassian can feel your pulse as he continues to stroke your cheeks.

“I know. I know, Princessa. But it’s okay, we can figure this out together, hm?” Cassian murmurs to you. 

You nod your head and close your eyes as you lean back against the wall, drained of energy. Cassian takes both of your wrists into one of his and holds them against his chest when he feels your grip slacken, hoping that you can feel his heart’s rhythm and use its steady beat to come back down from your adrenaline rush.

“What do we need to do?” Cassian asks after a moment. “I can signal K and we can leave right now.”

You shake your head as you look back at him. You can’t let this opportunity for information slip away because of you. And you’re definitely not giving K-2SO any more reason not to like you.

“No. No, Cass, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Just… give me another moment or two. Please,” you implore. 

Rational thought is coming back to you as you finally match Cassian’s heartbeat and breathing. You start to feel embarrassed about your breakdown, but Cassian’s sympathy and understanding prevent you from doing so. You’re now focusing on the shift in your mission.

“The good news is I’m using my real name, so she can’t ruin us immediately,” you begin slowly. “The bad news is now we have to contend with her story and timeline of events. I haven’t been with her since I ran away, Cassian. I haven’t spoken to her in years, but she’s been in my head a few times since then.”

What you have to tell Cassian next is hard, but he needs to know. For your own selfish needs, you want somebody to know what you’ve been through. 

“She… she studied under the Sith in her childhood, but never completed training. When she had me and realized I was force sensitive…” You’re pleading with your eyes and your grasping hands on his jacket once more. “She raised me on the Dark Side. To become the Sith she never could be.”

Cassian tries to pull away from you, shocked and angry by your perceived betrayal. His face hardens and his hands drop away from you, but you’re quick to hold tighter to him, keeping him from leaving you.

“It’s not what you’re thinking, Cassian! I never joined the Rebellion for her or anyone else. I stopped training and cut myself off from the Force after my 16th year because I knew what she was teaching me was wrong. I joined you because I wanted to make up for all the awful things she made me do, to give myself over to a cause that I believe in.

“I never intentionally put the Rebellion in danger. Every time she found my consciousness, I shut myself away from whatever I was feeling that let her in and left the base until I was sure she hadn’t found me,” you explain. “I don’t know why she’s here now, but it can’t be good. We have to find out, and I’m the best shot we have.”

You can see Cassian’s mind moving at lightspeed to determine if he can trust you. You’ve never given him any reason not to, but this secret is explosive enough to shake his faith in his own discernment. His eyes are shifting between yours, staring into each to find any trace of duplicity. You keep your expression honest and open. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented your emotions – true and real emotions – to someone. You’re vulnerable in this state, but Cassian needs to see it.

And he does. Cassian’s shoulders drop imperceptibly and the tension you can feel under your hands loosens.

“Does Mon Mothma know? She’s the one that recruited you, yes?” He asks, looking for a solid reason other than his gut instincts to guide his decision.

You nod. You hadn’t told her the full truth all those standard years ago, but she knew enough to think of you as a worthwhile risk.

Cassian exhales and reaches for your hands where they clutch at him. He gives them a squeeze in acceptance and you can’t stop a small smile from coming to your lips in relief.

“What’s your plan?” He asks you, deferring over to you on how this mission should move forward now that there’s a massive obstacle to manage.

“I think…”you hesitate, already dreading the series of events your next words are going to set in motion. “I think I need to get close to her again. Not ‘close’!” You reassure Cassian when a troubled look comes over his face. “Just make her think I’m still on the Dark Side. Being here already lends itself to that.”

“I don’t know. Putting yourself directly in her path like that is dangerous,” Cassian reasons.

You give a short laugh and look at Cassian with amusement. “We’re Rebel Intelligence currently undercover with elite Imperial officers and weapons dealers. I think we’ve been in danger.” 

Cassian mimics your small grin and rattles your hands around a bit. “Smart aleck.”

You’re feeling better than you have been since the U-wing. A weight has lifted from your shoulders and now you can breathe easier, safe in the knowledge that someone knows your secrets. Knows a large part of you, and doesn’t hate you for it.

Cassian’s smile fades. He doesn’t want to interrupt whatever this moment is, but you need to go back to the party. 

“I’m going to signal K-2SO; we might need him for security.” At the thought of K running his mouth off near all these officers, Cassian decides that he’ll instruct the droid to disable his modulator. “Are you ready?” he asks.

Your face drops into a determined expression. You gather all your strength and prepare to greet your mother. You’re going to need it.

***

“Well there’s my darling daughter!”

You keep your expression neutral, but quirk one eyebrow up as you look to the direction her voice is coming from. You watch as your mother saunters over to you, pulling along a middle-aged man in an Officer’s uniform; he must have been her way in, since you hadn’t seen her during your reconnaissance phase. He was of low-rank and low-importance, but you invited him because he could still harbor important information.

Your mother has aged: wrinkles line her eyes and crease her forehead, gray hairs are dyed an unnatural shade, and the skin on her neck and hands is thin and dry. Her dark robes swathe her frame in an abundance of fine fabric, perhaps to distract from all that you are observing.

“Mother,” you reply in a clipped tone. No one but Cassian notices the beginnings of sweat on your forehead. He leans in to place a kiss on your hairline, wiping away the droplet with his dry but soft lips. You grasp his hand tighter in appreciation.

“I knew I would find you here…” she taunts, but trails off as she eyes Cassian beside you. 

You stiffen because you know that look. You angle yourself to where your breasts are pressing against Cassian and you lay a possessive hand over his chest, clearly indicating he was ‘yours’ in the only way she really understands. 

But she hasn’t changed in all this time, so she tries her hand with Cassian. Even though her escort has an arm around her stomach in a not-so-subtle effort to keep her close to him and away from your partner - or anyone else in the room that catches her eye.

“My, my. Who is this handsome man you’ve conned into spending the night with you, daughter?” She addresses you, but bats her eyelashes coquettishly at Cassian. “I’m sure you’ll have much more fun with me, young man. I can give you anything you want,” she tries to whisper seductively, but fails in your opinion. 

Her date looks at you and Cassian contemptuously, as if you were the ones to blame for her behavior.

Your mouth curls into an uncontrollable sneer and your expression morphs into one of disgust and anger. How dare she proposition Cassian in such a way? What a lewd and demeaning way to come onto someone! 

All fear is forgotten in your outrage. You’re about to respond with vicious words as you start to move your hand towards the poisoned blade hidden under your dress, but Cassian stops you as he tightens his arm around your waist and pulls you further into him so that you’re basically looking over your shoulder - you’re full front is pressed against his as he takes his own hold on you. His hand snakes down to cup your ass in a proprietorial way to show your mother that he already has his hands full. 

Your heart quickens at the possessive act. Focus.

Cassian gives an uninterested nod as his greeting, making a show of looking her over and finding her lacking. It’s cruel, but it fills you with a spot of joy.

“The husband, actually,” he remarks coldly. “Weapons Specialist.”

“Oh.” She pouts for just a moment, disappointed that he wants nothing to do with her. “Well!” She claps her hands together and steps out of her date’s arm. “I’m sure you gentlemen won’t begrudge me a moment with my long-lost daughter,” she bids. She flaps her hands around as she says, “You boys talk amongst yourselves.”

She walks off, expecting you to follow like a kriffing Kath Hound. One of your eyes twitches in agitation as you look to Cassian. He uses one hand to adjust a piece of your hair, wanting to draw attention away from his lips as he mutters to you.

“Do not let her get to you. I will be right here when you return.”

“I don’t think I can follow through on the plan. I don’t think I can get close enough without failing,” you whisper. 

You are terrified of this woman and what she can still do to you, what she can still make you endure because of her connection to the Dark Side. But… you can’t really sense anything from her. You allow what diminutive control you have on the Force to surround her and probe for information, and you find very little. 

You’re wondering now if whatever prevented her from completing her training as a Sith has been depleting her midichlorians since then as well. Her voice in your mind has been diminishing for quite some time now; the event today having been the first time in over a year, when you used to hear her every other month.

A hypothesis begins to form. But in order to explore further, you need to follow your mother.

You rub Cassian’s cheek with the palm of your hand in farewell and his stubble is rough against your skin. He takes your hand from his face and places a soft kiss on your knuckles, but doesn’t meet your eyes.

 After your revelations in the cupboard and dispensation of some of the fear you had been holding all your life, you’re finding it easy to fall into this level of intimacy with Cassian -- false as it may be. You are no longer held back by thoughts of your mother reentering your life and wreaking havoc for the Rebellion. She’s found you here with Imperialists, ‘married’ to a war profiteer, and presumably on the same side.

But Cassian is still Cassian and you are still you. Public displays of affection make both of you uncomfortable, but you’ve been pushing it aside for the sake of the mission. You let go of each other and walk away from him, but you can still feel his eyes on you as you go to your mother.

“I never imagined you as a credit-seeking harpy, daughter of mine. Always so toffee-nosed and self-important. You never agreed to a single match I tried to make for you,” your mother starts in as soon as you’re close enough to hear. Some party-goers glance in your direction, but your glare sends them looking away.

“Perhaps you never set your sights high enough, mother. Maybe I sought better for myself than you could provide?” you retort, channeling Cassian’s cool demeanor into your character for this mission. 

You had never imagined as a youngling that you could ever be brave enough to face your mother in this way; she had dominated and dictated every facet of your life, refusing you free-will and a normal childhood. But you need to complete this mission and find out why she’s here, so you don’t have time to dwell.

She looks at you now with thinly veiled contempt. You imagine she thought you would still be that girl who was too afraid to speak out against her. And if it wasn’t for this mission and Cassian dragging you from the party so you could collect yourself, you would still be.

Your hands are trembling where they’re hidden behind your back and beneath the capelet on the dress, and gravity seems to have broken: incredibly strong at your feet and incredibly light on your head. It keeps you rooted to the floor while also making you feel like you’re floating away. Rationally you know it’s your fear response, so you work on taking inconspicuous breaths.

“‘Sought better for yourself’; don’t make me laugh! Those ‘friends’ you had were barely sentient! Let alone have any connections to elevate you anywhere,” your mother mocks.

You’re momentarily dumbfounded: how did she know about your friends? You made sure to never mention them or hang out with them when your mother was on-planet. “What friends?” you ask quietly.

“Don’t play ignorant with me, daughter, it’s so unbecoming of a Sith. Did you forget? I’m in your head.”

You jerk away from where your mother has leaned in towards your face, taking a step back. Her last words had been inside your head. 

“I’ve missed this, daughter,” your mother coos telepathically. She brings a wrinkled hand up to cup one side of your face while you’re struggling to breathe. “I’ve missed having you under my thumb.” 

At this, she drives her thumb into your cheek, pushing your head roughly to the side. She has a firm grip and directs your face back to where you have to look at her. You’re breathing fast and shallow, panic taking over. Your hands have flown to take a hold of her wrist and forearm, struggling to remove her nails from your soft flesh.

You finally wrench her hand away, just in time to feel a strong arm snake around your waist and pull you backwards. Cassian steps in front of you in a protective stance, one arm still holding you against his back and the other pointing his blaster in your mother’s face.

If looks alone could kill, your mother would have evaporated under Cassian’s glare.

You can feel his breath escaping him in angry heaves, nostrils flared. His mouth is set in a thin, angry line, and you can hear his teeth gnash together as he clenches his jaw. His eyebrows are furrowed over his hard, piercing stare, your mother the sole object of his ire at the moment.

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even look at Cassian as her focus is still on you. Staring down certain death and one of the most intimidating men in the galaxy, she doesn’t move a muscle except to smile cruelly.

“They were so heartbroken when I told them you were dead,” she mocks as you stare at her from around Cassian. “It was quite fun to watch them suffer.”

They thought I was dead? Your hands grasp Cassian tighter at the thought. Is that why they never tried to contact me? 

Feeling your shaking hands on his back and unsteady breaths against his neck, all Cassian wants to do is blast a hole through your mother. As soon as he saw her lay a hand on you, he was racing over to the altercation – blaster drawn and heart on his sleeve. He knows how strong and capable you are, but this mission is asking more of you than he can stand to watch be taken away. 

He feels your warm hand slide around his where it grips his blaster. You bring his arm back down to his side and step out from behind him.

Your nerves are shot and you’re so nauseous that you could vomit at any moment, but you need to take control of the situation again. Your mother is making you look weak and incompetant in front of the Empire’s largest figures. The party had come to a screeching halt when Cassian drew his weapon.

“It’s alright, my love,” you say loud enough for those around you to hear. “I believe our guest has forgotten who is in charge here.” 

You snap your fingers in K’s direction where you see him stationed against one of the columns beside the entrance. You’re elated when you see him actually heed your command and stalk over. He grips your mother’s arm and waits for your command.

“I do believe it’s time you and your date left now,” you say as you wave your hand in a dismissive gesture.

Your mother is absolutely fuming as K2 leads her out of the hall, stopping to grab her date as he tries to make himself small amongst the crowd. You can see her trying to move her arm out of the droid’s grasp, but she’s unsuccessful. Her date’s jacket sleeve is nearly ripping at the shoulder from how unwilling he is to be pulled along by her.

Cassian is immensely proud of you for standing up to your mother. After he watches her being dragged out by K, he turns to you with a glimmer in his eye, only to notice the sallowness of your skin and the movement of your throat as you swallow multiple times.

Cassian immediately turns to your guests and makes an announcement so you can sneak away unnoticed. “Now that we’ve weeded out the undesirables amongst us, it’s time to get this party started. Fosu–” Cassian calls to the Ortolan leading the live band “–let’s go!” 

You make your way out of the crowded hall with one hand fisted over your mouth and the other holding your stomach. You hear the band start up as you reach the nearest refresher and bolt inside. As soon as the door slides closed and you’re alone, you promptly empty the contents of your stomach into the vacc tube.

-------

You’re shivering against the wall when Cassian comes in some time later. Your body has lost all ability to function after trying to purge itself of these mephitic feelings, so you’re collapsed into a seated position on the floor with your head leaned back to rest against the wall. The expensive stone interior of this refresher is beautiful to look at, but severely uncomfortable to sit on. 

Cassian crouches down next to you and hands you a crystal flute full of water. You give a small smile in appreciation and sip from the cup, closing your eyes as you feel the cool liquid slither down your raw throat and into your empty stomach.

“You did good,” Cassian says to you.

You peep open one tired eye and look at him. His face is sincere and his eyes hold no hint of the disappointment you feel for yourself. You scoff at his words and close your eye again.

“The entire mission has gone completely barvy because of me,” you mutter harshly. If your mother hadn't shown up, you would have completed this mission without any problems. But as soon as you felt her presence and realized that she was in the same room, you broke down. And when she spoke to you and grabbed you...

At the thought of your mother’s touch, the anxiety in your stomach rumbles into nausea again. You press a closed fist up to your mouth to fight off the feeling. “I can’t even think about her without wanting to spew my guts up.” You roll your head to the side so that Cassian can’t see the self-deprecating expression you know is on your face. “How pathetic is that?”

A warm, rough hand encircles the wrist that still hovers in front of your mouth. The firm pressure brings your face up and forces your eyes open. Cassian is leaning towards you with an arm outstretched to you and balancing on one knee. You can’t help but feel bad that he’s ruining such a nice suit just to get you to look at him.

“Nothing about you is pathetic, Princessa,” he urges. “The way you handled that situation? There is no one else in the galaxy who could have gotten through the way you did.” He moves his hands in an exaggerated gesture to emphasize the shape of the galaxy around you, but your wrist is pulled along for the demonstration since it is still held between his fingers. 

“I didn’t really do anything. I asked K to kick her out for me. I’ve probably lost any ounce of power and respect we scrounged up in such a short time.” 

Your eyes are downcast as you say this, so you don’t notice Cassian’s other hand reaching up from where it was hovering over his bent knee. He oh-so-gently grabs your chin in the same place your mother had, but the difference between the two touches are immense. His thumb ever so softly brushes along the side of your mouth where a bruise is most likely forming, and his fingers perch below your chin as he pulls your face up to meet his gaze.

“If anything, you gave us more respect. You effortlessly took away all her power and turned her into the laughing stock of the party; these sorts of things are the highlight of any event for these people. You’ve just ensured that they’re all going to be coming back just on the off-chance that something like that happens again.” 

His eyes are so intense on yours and his hand so kind against your abused jaw that it brings a flush to your face. You shouldn’t be relishing in the closeness you’re feeling in this moment because he is only trying to comfort you and get you ready to be hostess of the party again, but you can’t help the warm feelings and fluttering of your heart at his proximity.

You think he must have noticed your blush and became embarrassed for you, because he drops his hand from your face and rises from his crouch. Cassian clears his throat and pulls your wrist up towards him, indicating that it is time for you to stand as well. You push against the wall with your free hand and stand in front of him.

You’re unsure of what else to say besides a whispered, “Thank you.”

Cassian nods his head in acknowledgement and drops your hand. The loss of contact stings a little.

Cassian quickly starts ruffling his hair and jerking his clothes until they’re disheveled. Your questioning look is answered a second later as the same realization comes to your mind. A married couple locked in a bathroom together for some time after an apparent power move? Everyone at the party is going to think that show of dominance got Cassian hot with desire for you.

Your blush reappears with a vengeance as your hands remove some pins from your hair and ruffle through it. Your heart thunders in your chest as you grab Cassian’s shoulder as he is preparing to unlock the door. He looks back at you and you drop your hand.

“It.. it would be more believable if some of my makeup…” you flap your hand towards his face, indicating what you mean.

Understanding crosses his face as he slowly leans towards you. You take your thumb and smear it across your lips, dragging the lip color from its place and around your mouth in a facsimile of the chaos a kiss would create.

You take your makeup covered thumb and firmly glide it across Cassian’s lips. The contrast between the softness of his delicate skin and harshness of his stubbled chin remind you that your face and neck need to be more red.

Making to take your nails and redden up your skin, you’re stopped by Cassian’s question of, “Can I?”

You look up to see his hands reaching for your face and you allow him to hold you. He brings his face into yours and presses his stubbly cheek into your skin. You hold back your gasp of shock, but the inhaled breath allows in the intoxicating smell of him. You close your eyes in order to maintain some semblance of control over yourself. Your hands are itching to run through his hair and dishevel it even more, but you refrain in case it makes him stop.

Cassian is nuzzling into your neck now and you can feel a slightly shaky breath leave his lips and fan across your ear. A shiver races down your spine and lands hotly in your lower abdomen. The sensitive skin of your neck is red now from both his ministrations and your increased temperature.

All too soon, Cassian pulls away. You're warm all over except for the irritated skin on your neck that feels cool without Cassian’s warmth against it. He looks at you unsurely, probably worried that he overstepped a boundary.

“Your hands wouldn’t have left the right pattern,” he mumbles out. 

He doesn’t seem unsure of himself, but not wholly convinced that you necessarily wanted him to do that. You nod your head too quickly when you agree with him to reassure that you do not mind. At all. 

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, but swings out one elbow as an offer to you. You take a deep breath to calm down and place your arm within his before exiting.

***

Weeks pass and you and Cassian have been inundated with dinner offers, gala invitations, and special meetings from members of the Empire and their allies. It seems that Cassian was correct in saying that everyone at the party - and not at the party - would be clamoring to get into your good graces after taking so much power away from a prominent member so easily. 

When the topic is brought up, you always smile and laugh haughtily so they think such a thing was no big deal to you. The problem is that it was a big deal. You never stood up to your mother like that when you were younger - you always took the abuse until the day you jumped on a random cargo ship and ran away. You had always thought you were weak and powerless against your mother, but Cassian and these Imperial scum are beginning to make you realize that you’ve grown enough that she no longer holds power over you.

This realization makes you feel strong and more competent than ever. You’re fully ingratiating yourself with the beings around you, pretending that the Empire is the only way forward and that the Rebellion is just full of useless chizks. 

Ha! If only they knew they were being played like an Ewok drum by one of those ‘useless chizks’.

As you’re laughing at what some high-brow weapons dealer is saying, you glance around the room to find Cassian. You were separated when someone dragged you away to have a ‘female talk’ that was excruciating to sit through. You spy him across the hall, but your heart drops as you watch him follow a beautiful Twi-lek into a side office.

Over the past few weeks, you and Cassian have gotten close. Or you thought you had. You were both becoming increasingly comfortable in each other’s arms and Cassian had even taken to kissing your lips when others were around.

You couldn’t help but take those little kisses and tight hugs personally. You know that, rationally, he is only doing those things to keep up the pretense of a happily married couple, but your touch-starved heart was going soft for the Rebel captain.

And maybe it’s that soft heart that makes you excuse yourself from the current conversation. That soft heart that makes you follow in the pair’s footsteps. That soft heart that constricts and feels as if it’s crumbling away when you hear the soft murmurs coming from behind the closed door you have your ear against.

You’re unable to make out anything being said, but the closeness that whispering requires crushes your soft heart. You know this is a mission and you both need to get intel at any cost. Cassian is one of the best spies in the Rebellion – kriff, the whole galaxy – so it shouldn’t come as any surprise that seducing a target is one of his methods. 

But we’re supposed to be married, you reason out. Happily!

You hear the Twi-lek whine. Your chest tightens and your eyes start to burn for no reason. You shake your head to try and force the tears back. Taking a deep breath, you channel your current persona and feel her wrath and anger at the situation funnel through you.

You twist the handle and barge into the room. You stand scowling at the two as you eye them up and down. Cassian is unruffled and holding onto the Twi-lek’s shoulders as if to keep her at a distance. The Twi-lek, on the other hand, has her dress pulled down past her shoulders to expose her chest and her hands clasped onto Cassian’s lapels and fingering the buttons of his shirt.

Their eyes turn to you: Cassian’s relieved ,and the Twi-lek’s shooting daggers.

“Husband,” you deadpan, “what’s the meaning of this?” 

But you’re not looking at your fake husband, you’re eyeing up the female who still has her dress around her waist and her dirty hands on your man.

“Princessa,” Cassian seems to plead with you. You flick your eyes away from the Twi-lek and onto him. Princessa has become a normal term of endearment from Cassian since your heart-to-heart in the fresher, and you can’t get enough of how ardently he always calls to you. But now the name sends a pain through your heart, because you’re just now realizing he may have used it for others during missions as well.

Your eyes threaten to start burning again, so you look away from Cassian and back to the one that pulled him in here. You notice that she was hanging out with the one that pulled you away for that ‘talk’, making you think that this had been their play all along.

Your nostrils flare as you stare her down. “Fix your gown, find your friend, and leave this house. I will not repeat myself,” you growl at her. 

The Twi-lek’s eyes widen a fraction at the venom in your voice, hopefully understanding the danger that your persona emanates. She pulls her hands from Cassian and slips them through the sleeves of her dress before scurrying from the room.

You turn to watch her leave, narrowing your eyes as you catch hers as she shuts the door. You hadn’t only turned to make sure she left, you also turned so that you didn’t have to look at Cassian. You didn’t want to look closer and see what they were up to.

“Thank you,” Cassian murmurs as he walks up to you. “She seemed to think that I would sneak off with her willingly.”

“Didn’t you, though?” 

Your question catches him off-guard and you see his furrowed brow in your peripheral. You tried not to put any emotion into your words, but don’t know if you succeeded or not.

“What do you mean?”

“You were gathering intel, right? It’s part of the job to seduce targets.” You’re still looking to the door and away from him, but Cassian turns his body fully towards you and raises a hand in your direction. You lightly step away as you finish. “I just didn’t know our cover had changed, is all. I won’t interrupt you next time.”

Cassian calls out for you, but you’ve already left the room.

***

No one notices anything out of the ordinary after you re-enter the party, but you can feel eyes on you the whole night. Whether they’re Cassian’s or others’ is hard to say – once you returned to mingling with the guests, you started wrapping them around your little finger.

You aren’t discriminating against anyone that seemed interested in you. Any being that you felt had even an inkling of knowledge about something and would only give it up if persuaded, you flirted with. Subtly, of course, since you are ‘married’, but enough to let them know you find them just as interesting as they find you.

You’re only laying the groundwork tonight, so you don’t have to worry about planning any rendezvouses. You wish that Cassian had discussed seduction with you while you were both laying out plans on the way to Coruscant. 

No. 

You wish that seduction wasn’t part of the plans at all. Because as selfish as it is, you want Cassian all to yourself – if only for this mission. 

Stop lying.

As selfish as it is, you want Cassian. Period.

***

You don’t enjoy yourself tonight. Not like any of the other events had been times to enjoy, but at least for those few weeks Cassian had been at your side for most of them. Even so, you can’t pinpoint exactly when Cassian began this part of the plan, which means you are too distracted to be doing your job correctly. You internally berate yourself for the slip up. 

It’s late by the time you and Cassian are standing on the landing platform waiting for your cruiser to arrive. The wind this high up causes you to shiver and cross your arms to try and protect yourself from the chill. While you’re thankful for your thin clothing inside the incessantly warm buildings, walking out into the brisk night air always catches you by surprise. Cassian in the past has always draped his jacket over your bare shoulders when he noticed that you were cold, but he refrains tonight. He stands several feet away from you with his hands clasped behind his back and his jaw tight.

The tension roiling between you is uncomfortable. There were no soft touches or easy conversations between you this evening like you have grown used to. After you left the office and Cassian behind, you had avoided him at all costs. But you’d catch him staring at you as you laid a hand on someone else’s shoulder or whispered into another’s ear. 

You know that he’s upset with you for tonight, but you don’t know what for specifically. Did he think you were too bold in your attentions? It’s not like you had snuck off into a private room with someone in full view of the entire party. 

The thought briefly crosses your mind that you’re trying to make Cassian jealous, but it’s quickly brushed away. Why would it make Cassian jealous to see you flirting with others? It’s not like this is a real relationship anyway… no matter that you were starting to think it was.

Your transport arrives and the doors slide open. The warmth of the ship draws you in and you clamber in on your sore feet. The high-arching shoes you’ve been wearing are kicked off quickly so that you can pull your legs up to rest on the seats beside you. You’re fully reclined when the journey to your suite begins, but Cassian is still rigid in his seat in the farthest corner of the ship from you.

The warm transport grows stifling as you feel the heat of Cassian’s gaze on you. Your eyes are closed where your head is resting on the hull, but you’re too tired to open them and stare back.

“Go on and say whatever it is you’re upset about,” you challenge wearily. The events from earlier in the night and your subsequent ‘star of the party’ mode had worn you to the point of exhaustion. You were ready to be alone and to sleep for the next standard year.

“You do not think that was too much?” Cassian hurls at you. “You throwing yourself at them? We are supposed to be happily married. Why are you not acting accordingly?”

The force of his anger surprises you; you knew he was displeased with your actions by the look on his face throughout the event, but you didn’t think he was angry enough to yell at you. Nerves begin to course through your blood at his raised voice. It reminds you too much of your mother’s anger when you were younger – you have been invisible ever since then, so no one has had a reason to scream abuse at you. 

Until now.

Despite your weariness and building anxiety, the growing sense of your own power helps to bolster you. You will not let him lambaste you for putting your all into this mission. You’ve been here too long as it is, and you need to get away from Cassian so that you can get back to the right headspace without thoughts of him getting in the way of your duties. You’ve been too consumed with the feelings that his touch and presence bring you when you’re together. Too consumed with the thought that maybe he finds your presence just as all-consuming as you find his.

Your hands tremble slightly with nerves and anger as you plant your feet on the floor and turn to face him with a fierce stare.

“You will not speak to me that way, Cassian. I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime. And I do not need you questioning me when you’re the one that started seducing targets without consulting me! I also thought the plan was to be ‘happily married’, but imagine my surprise when I found a half-naked Twi-Lek in your arms!”

The transport has arrived at your dwelling by this point, so you grab the hem of your dress and your footwear before stomping off into the entrance hall. You can hear Cassian muttering expletives under his breath as he races after you.

“If you would let me explain,” he begins after grabbing your wrist and spinning you around to face him. You jerk your arm out of his grip with a hiss.

“Don’t grab me,” you growl out. “We’re done for tonight. I’m sleeping in the guest quarters.” 

And you stalk away, leaving Cassian angry and alone.

***

Night turns into day, and the day turns into many more. Neither of you would admit to what was really the cause of the anger and the fight, not even to yourselves. 

You still attend functions and dinner plans, but the small and casual affection between you and Cassian has disappeared. Instead, quick pecks and a loose arm around the waist was the only physical contact.

You hate this. You hate that you’re acting this way - so unreasonably. If it were anyone else, you might even laugh at their blatant flirtations with others. But with Cassian… any time you see someone else on his arm or someone else whispering in his ear, you see red. The fire you felt that first night with the Twi-Lek comes back with a vengeance and you can’t help but feel stupid for it.

Your ‘home life’ isn’t any better. You both sit at opposite ends of the dining table, staunchly ignoring the other. At least, you try to ignore him. Cassian is still your friend, despite the silence lingering between the two of you. You want to break the war of no words, but it seems like every event resets both of your tempers.

You had yet to return to the extra cot in the master bedroom you used to share with Cassian.

It all came to a head one afternoon. The same Twi-Lek, Anansi, had put her hands all over Cassian in the middle of a crowded dinner party the night prior, eliciting murmurs from the other party-goers about your and Cassian’s physical relationship. Or lack thereof.

You had glared daggers at the both of them, catching Cassian’s eye and snarling your lip at him out of hurt more so than anger. If he wanted to flirt so openly and auspiciously with the targets, then so would you, you rationalized. You found the most eligible officer and made it abundantly clear that you were willing to do anything to stay with him just a little longer. So you went back to his quarters once the party was over. You didn’t stay over for long, stumbling back to your and Cassian’s penthouse long before the suns even rose.

You don’t even fully undress before you fall into a deep sleep. 

You neglect to leave your bed in time for the first meal of the day, but you make it to the small offering a few hours later. Cassian is already seated at the head of the table, so you avoid his eyes as you move to your place across from him.

Nothing is appealing right now, the firewater moving its way out of your bloodstream making you slightly dizzy. You glance up when Cassian’s utensils scrape across his dish.The noise sends shivers down your spine.

“Could you not?” you question quietly.

Cassian looks up with a quirked eyebrow. “Why? Enjoy yourself a bit too much last night, baby?” he taunts, scraping his plate again.

You send him a deadly glare, daring him to do it again. “I’m sure nowhere near as much fun as you had with Anansi last night. Another office, really?”

Cassian slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up forcefully. “At least I didn’t take her home, unlike that officer. Couldn’t even leave the party with your own ‘husband’ – you just had to leave with him. Did you at least get anything from him?” he demands, glowering from across the spread of food between you.

You smirk at him. “Oh, I got plenty from him last night,” you taunt as you stand as well.

You’ll be the first to admit that was a low blow, but Maker did it feel good to give right back as good as you were getting.

Cassian growls and stalks over to you. The sight of his taut shoulders and ridged jaw send you backwards until you’re up against a low table against the wall. His hands land either side of your hips, caging you in. 

Your heart is thundering and you’re slightly shaking with adrenaline. A warm sensation fills your gut and you can’t believe that his anger is making you feel this way.

“Yeah?” Cassian asks in a low voice, his breath fanning across your lips. His face is so close and his eyes are staring deep into your own. “I bet I can give you more.”

And with that, Cassian’s lips are on yours and it’s hard to even breathe. Your arms snake up around his neck and pull his lips closer to yours, deepening the kiss. His hands move from the table and grab onto your hips, allowing him to grind against your abdomen. A hungry growl escapes his mouth when you bite his lip at the action.

Cassian reaches down to your thighs and hauls you onto the table that had been digging into your lower back. You gasp into his open mouth when he spreads your legs wide and settles between your thighs.

The days of anger and pent-up frustration explodes between you both and there’s no stopping the desperate kisses and wandering hands. You grab the side of Cassian’s face with one hand and slide the other down his chest to lay flat on his lower abdomen. You feel his muscles tense as your fingers slip under his waistband to tease him, forcing his hips to rock into you.

Cassian leaves kisses from your waiting mouth and along your jaw until he reaches your ear. He whispers huskily, “I bet he didn’t kiss you like this.”

You groan as Cassian sucks harshly on your neck, leaving red marks. The dress you have on rides up your legs and bunches around your waist as Cassian’s hand trails up the outside of your thigh. When he reaches your hip, he lets out another low groan at what he finds. Or doesn’t find.

“Nothing on underneath? Did you leave him a souvenir? ” he breathes harshly into your mouth, using his other hand to palm your breasts through your dress.

“Ha,” you laugh shakily. You can do nothing except throw your head back against the wall as his fingers travel towards your wet folds. Nothing had prepared you for this interaction with Cassian, but kriff were you glad you weren’t wearing underwear.

Cassian’s thumb presses harshly on your clit and you grasp his wrist tightly to keep him in place. He slowly teases one finger into your aching hole and grabs your neck to force you to meet his eyes as he feels you flutter around his finger. A small whimper escapes you at the hungry look in his eyes and the second finger nudging at your entrance.

“I know you didn’t get this wet for him,” Cassian purrs, still staring into your eyes. It’s hard to keep them open as he pumps his fingers in and out of you slowly, but the look he’s giving you is impossible to look away from. 

Your free hand that had been on the table below you to keep you upright takes his hand at your throat and makes him squeeze. You gasp softly at the pressure and Cassian’s eyes blaze. He forces himself closer to you, moving his thumb harder and faster against your nub and forcing your chests together so that there is no space between you. Your eyes slam shut when he scissors his fingers to open you wider and you hear the noise of your juices echoing throughout the room from his movements.

His hand around your throat pushes you back against the wall so that Cassian has a better angle at which to see his fingers moving against you. His mouth waters at the sight of his hand glistening down to the wrist. 

You’re rising higher towards your peak, but not quite there when Cassian leaves you altogether. You cry out at the loss of contact and immediately open your eyes to glare at him. Only he’s no longer face-to-face with you – he’s down on his knees and propping your thighs onto his shoulders. Cassian licks his lips as you stare at each other across the distance of your quivering body.

Your heart beats erratically in your chest, and when he licks his lips it sends another flood of heat towards your pulsing pussy. “Tell me how much you want it,” Cassian murmurs as he kisses your inner thighs while still looking up at you.

“Yes,” you breathe, panting and squirming to get his mouth closer to where you want need it. 

“‘Yes’ what, Princessa?” he questions while blowing lightly along your slit.

“You. I want you,” you gasp out. “Now. Please.”

And that’s all it takes for Cassian’s mouth to finally close in and taste you. Your hands fly into his hair and your shoulders are bearing all of your weight as you lean into the wall for support. You tug and pull at Cassian’s hair, ensuring that he’s in just the right spot at all times. A harsher pull at a particularly good lick causes Cassian to moan into you and you nearly come just from the sensation.

He suckles your clit into his mouth and pushes his fingers back into you. You cry out at his ministrations and try to grind against him, but his arms are pressing you down securely and you can hardly move.

“Yes. Please – please. Cassian!” you chant, trying hard not to dig your nails into his scalp and shoulders as your hands grab onto him. You’re so close that you can taste it.

“Did you scream his name last night? Or were you pretending it was me fucking you?” Cassian nips your folds when you don’t answer immediately, causing you to jerk and moan.

“I-I didn’t– Ah!” 

Cassian once again pulls away from you, raising his eyebrows in challenge. You’re determined that this is the last time he leaves you right on the edge, so you lean over and grab him by the shoulders and haul him up to you. You wrap your legs around him to keep him in place and begin to undo his shirt.

You deliberately let your hands press and knead as you tease him, wanting him as needy as you are. Cassian grabs your jaw and kisses you hard as you reveal his chest. He treats you in kind by pulling the straps of your dress off your shoulders and below your breasts. He palms them with both hands, tweaking the nipples when you reach for his pants.

Cassian rutts into your hands as you work him out of the confining fabric. He’s hot in your hand when you finally release his cock and pump his length. He groans into your mouth again and moves a hand down to yours and pulls it away. 

You try to fight against it, but he guides your entwined hands to your center and makes you soak your palm with your own fluids. Getting the gist of his actions, you rub yourself with his guidance. You’re panting into his mouth as he continues to kiss you. 

You deem your hand thoroughly soaked and place it back on him. He pumps into your fist until his cock is coated in your essence. You reach your free hand around his waist and pull him into the crux of your thighs, guiding him to where you desperately ache to be filled. Cassian pulls your hand away from him and places it against his neck, while his other hand keeps him positioned at your entrance.

He edges into you and stops when he meets a slight resistance. He looks into your eyes for permission to continue, and you nod your head vigorously.

With your acknowledgement, Cassian thrusts in to the hilt. You keen loudly at the sudden intrusion, but the fullness quickly turns all discomfort into an overwhelming need. You open your eyes from where they had closed suddenly and see Cassian already looking at you. He grabs one of your legs to hitch it up further around his waist and uses his other hand to cup your jaw and lean you back against the wall.

Cassian follows you and leans all his body against you. Your naked flesh moves against each other when he begins thrusting into you quickly. You gasp and shake against him, using your arms to keep his mouth on yours as you climb higher and higher once again.

Cassian can tell that you’re close. He raises your leg even higher and places one knee on the low table you’re fucking on, causing him to reach such a deep angle that you see stars with every movement. He’s practically on top of you now, bearing all his weight on his other arm that is grabbing hold of the back of the table to give him even more leverage.

He uses this new angle to thrust hard, slow, and deep. Your eyes water as the head of his cock slams into your g-spot over, and over, and over again. You can barely breathe with all of the pressure against you, but you drag in just enough air in order to scream as your orgasm washes over you. Your arms and legs go rigid around Cassian, forcing him to stay close as he continues to pump into you.

He can feel you pulling and squeezing his dick as your walls try to milk every last bit of pleasure, which leads him to his own finish. Cassian comes inside you hard, groaning in satisfaction. He continues to push into you softly as you both ride the last waves of your highs.

Your legs lose all muscle control and the one not being held up by Cassian drops down against the table. You’re gasping hard, trying to draw in a breath that will allow your head to start clearing from its post-coital fog. You can’t for the life of you remember ever having better sex.

Cassian slowly extracts his length from you and you cry out at the hollow feeling. He chuckles darkly. He pushes the hair that had fallen into his face back with both hands, removing all contact with your skin. “You won’t forget about your ‘husband’ now, will you?” Cassian smiles ruefully.

It takes you a moment to process the thinly concealed venom in his words. You still in disbelief as you puzzle out his meaning. 

Wait… wasn’t that? Didn’t he–?

Your face burns with embarrassment at having been caught out. You’ll admit you were angry at your ‘husband’ at the beginning of this experience, but you threw your anger out the very high-rise window of this dining room as soon as Cassian kissed you.

You replay the words he had said during sex in your mind. You had been too busy at the time to pay much attention to what he was actually saying. He really thought you slept with that officer last night? A Rebel captain, sleeping with an Imperial officer? Who did he take you for?

You thought… but that look in his eyes when he entered you. The-the kisses and the closeness and the feelings. The intimacy that comes along with sex. Doesn’t he…? 

You sit upright and grab the fabric of your dress to cover your breasts. The movement of your hips causes Cassian’s cum to leak out of you, and you watch his eyes trail the droplet as it races downwards.

You don’t understand. You don’t.

Did he not kiss you because he wanted to? Because he has feelings for you? Or did he only do it out of anger?

Your feelings for Cassian have grown over the weeks you’ve been together on this mission, and you thought he felt a similar way. All the intimacy in public and pretty words – even if it has been a while – were they really just an act this whole time?

You stand slowly, feeling your eyes grow hot with tears to mimic the warm wetness between your thighs. You bite your lower lip as you look at the floor by Cassian’s feet.

“I–” you start. “I didn’t sleep with him…” You look up to see Cassian’s eyes widen a fraction. You can’t tell if it’s in disbelief or surprise. “You really think I’d do that?” You question him.

“I don’t know…” Cassian whispers, shaking his head imperceptibly. His hair falls back into his eyes, but he doesn’t make a move to fix it.

You look away from him and towards the skyline outside, avoiding his gaze. You tug your dress back onto your shoulders and wrap your arms protectively around yourself once again.

“I thought you – I thought we… I don’t have sex with just anyone, Cassian.” 

Your voice comes out as a whisper and you wrap your arms tighter around your chest. Your heart constricts in fear and anxiety as you utter your next words. 

“I really like you, Cass. I kind of thought the feeling was mutual…because of – you know.” You shrug your shoulders self-consciously. “I thought as soon as you... felt that I hadn’t been with anyone in a while, you stopped pretending to be mad at me.” You look back to him with sad eyes, tears threatening to fall any second. “We were pretending, right? Because we were jealous?”

Cassian repeats your name in a whisper, sounding like an apology, beginning to lift a hand towards you but seemingly thinking better of it. He closes his mouth and shakes his head in a definitive ‘no’.

That hurt. That hurt bad.

Tears overflow your lashes and a small hiccup leaves your throat, but you nod your head and turn to leave. You feel ashamed of the feelings you had poured into your love-making, realizing that he hadn’t felt it. Realizing that he hadn’t done the same.

You shuffle softly to the door, your steps quiet. Your shoulders rise as a hiccup escapes your lips. You press one hand against your mouth to stifle the sob that is sure to follow. You’ve nearly reached the door when you hear Cassian take in a shaky breath.

“She said she was looking to sell weapons and wanted to know if I was interested. I went with her under the assumption that we could gain ammunition for the Rebellion.” Cassian says to your back. 

His voice is soft. Pleading. Begging you to turn around and understand. Cassian doesn’t know why he had said those things to you just now. Why he had to go and ruin one of the best things that had happened to him in a long time.

He sees you pause in your steps, so he takes a deep inhale to calm his emotions before continuing. He needs to get this right so he doesn’t lose you.

If he hasn’t already.

“I did not mean to hurt you,” he begins. All of his focus is centered on you, so far away. “I can not begin to apologize enough for the things I just said to you. Because I was jealous. Very. But those words – that is something you do not deserve. It was uncalled for to act in the way I did. I was angry at myself for not being brave enough to tell you how I feel. For letting you leave with someone else when all I wanted… when all I feel...is...” Cassian shakes his head in confusion while trying to come up with the right way to say this.

You take a moment before asking the question burning burning between you. 

“...How do you feel?” 

You wring your hands nervously in front of you while awaiting Cassian’s answer. Your heart is racing and you begin to feel light-headed from the anxiety coursing through your body in anticipation.

You feel more than hear the quick footsteps that stop just a hair's-breadth away from your back.

“Like…” Cassian begins, struggling to find the right words to convey just how attached he is to you, “like the galaxy wouldn’t be worth saving without you in it.” A tell-tale warble in his voice sends a stab of pain through your chest.

There’s a light touch at your waist, like he’s afraid that you’re going to run away at the slightest movement. That touch sends the chill that had seeped into your skin burning away and leaves you feeling all the warmth that had disappeared when you sat on that table alone. You let out a sob before spinning around to wrap your arms around his neck and cry into his neck.

Cassian hugs one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders so that he can cup the back of your head. He squeezes with all his strength and presses a gentle kiss to your temple. He whispers “I’m sorry” over and over while you shudder against his chest. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I should not have accused you of sleeping with an enemy when I know you would never.” Another kiss to your temple, then one to your cheek. “I let my jealousy overrule my thoughts. I am so sorry.”

You hiccup again as you turn your face to press your forehead against his neck and bring one of your wrists down to wipe the tears from your face. “We were both wrong,” you tell him. “I misread the situation and didn’t give you the opportunity to explain. I just jumped to my own conclusions and caused this whole mess. I’m sorry.” 

Your throat is raw from your earlier activities and your crying spell, but you feel so much better now that your feelings are out in the open and you’re communicating about how’ve you’ve wronged each other. 

Cassian pulls away slightly and moves his hand from the nape of your neck to smooth along your cheek to collect the tears that are still there. His eyes are soft and sorrowful as he sees what he’s done to you. He makes a silent vow to never be the reason you cry again.

“It hurt to not be near you these past days,” Cassian whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “We’ll promise to talk everything out from now on, yes? 

“Yes.”

You both close your eyes and breathe each other in.

***

You wake late in the evening, the suns a few moments from setting. You feel Cassian’s warm breath against the back of your neck and his whole body as he cradles you from behind. You smile at the closeness, once again relieved that you both apologized and confessed your feelings for each other. 

Cassian escorted you back to the master sleeping quarters when he realized just how exhausted you were after this morning’s events. He’d slipped your dress from your form and pulled the covers up around your shoulders when you slid onto the bed. He crawled in on the other side and moved closer, placing a kiss in your hair before wrapping his arms around you.

You can’t remember the last time you felt so safe. If the universe was kind, you would willingly spend the rest of your existence just like this. You turn over as softly as you can, not wanting to jostle Cassian. When you’re looking into his peacefully sleeping face, you can’t help but lift a hand and trace along his features with the back of one finger.

Cassian’s eyes open for a brief moment before closing again, a hum escaping his lips. You laugh softly at his unwillingness to wake up and continue your tracing.

“We should probably check on the status of everything,” you whisper. “We’ve been MIA for a while now.”

“We have, haven’t we?” Cassian’s gruff voice responds. He lets out a deep sigh and pulls the arm that was around your waist up to catch your hand. “Tickles,” he murmurs while twining your fingers together and leaving them to rest on the pillow between your faces.

What’s a few more minutes going to hurt?

***

This is not good.

Cassian had just called you over to review footage and audio that has been recorded inside your suite from the past couple of days. You noticed an odd gap of time between when one crewmate entered the hallway leading to your private quarters and when they returned. This in and of itself wouldn’t have been enough to warrant any worry, but you saw them slip a piece of your Rebellion issued surveillance equipment into one of the pockets of their uniform as they walked away.

There is no way some common staff member could have found some of the only evidence linking you and Cassian to the Rebellion. No way unless they were smart enough and trained in the same occupation as you. 

You’ve masqueraded as household staff enough times that you should have realized that this was a distinct possibility when hiring a crew to keep up appearances.

You’re barely getting over your shock as you move to watch the next clip of the Adarian’s movements around your quarters. You take note of every movement of their cranial aperture as they scan their surroundings for sounds. Cassian had risen from his seat beside you in order to confirm that one of your signal jammers had indeed gone missing and to then send an encrypted message to Mon Mothma and General Draven to let them know you are now compromised. 

Cassian is just returning to you when you come to the last holovid recording. He’s too riled to sit down again, so he stands behind your chair and lays a hand on your shoulder. You place your hand over his and worry your lip.

You watch as the Adarian closes their eyes and presses their head against a wall adjacent to the entryway from the landing pad. You're wondering what they could be hearing when Cassian’s hand grips your shoulder.

You look up at him and open your mouth to ask what the problem is, but he stops you.

“Look at the time.”

You furrow your brows and glance at the timestamp. Your blood runs cold in your veins.

“They heard us...” you breathe to Cassian as you tighten your hold on him.

“I mentioned buying ammunition for the Rebellion…” Cassian remembers out loud. Your lip is nearly bleeding with how hard your teeth are working it.

“Kriff,” you mutter.

Cassian flexes his fingers under yours before sliding back across the room to update the message to your superiors about your immediate removal from the situation. You ponder the implications of ending the mission here, now, and realize that if someone knew enough to plant a spy within the staff that the Rebellion hired directly, then they knew enough to be dangerous.

You stop Cassian before he can send for an escape vehicle. “This is the only one that has shown any subversive behavior.” You begin. “We need to follow them and find out who planted them here.” Your eyes bore into his as he takes the time to deliberate between escape and possible death.

Cassian finally assents. “They’re to finish their shift in the next standard hour, so we’ll have an opportunity then.”

You spend what little time you have planning the recon details with heads together and hushed voices.

***

The alias given by the Adarian, Sulet, didn’t turn up anything useful when the Rebellion ran the initial background check before they were employed, so you are now confident that this is a false identity. Their history is incredibly detailed and in-depth, so whoever they work for has good connections.

You and Cassian follow Sulet onto a hyperbus that takes you to another sector close by, where they are soon picked up by a private hovercraft. You have to commandeer a speeder left nearby, deftly connecting wires and slinging yourself onto the vehicle. The small seat has you pressed up against Cassian’s back and feeling his muscles move as he steers. 

Cassian follows the craft from a distance that still allows him to watch its movements, but not be detected by the passenger. The insane traffic pattern soaring between the buildings on different levels makes you glad that Cassian is the one driving and not you, since your eyes are watering from the wind. You have a hard time focusing on anything further away than Cassian’s elegant neck and windswept hair. You burrow your head between his shoulder blades to escape the biting wind as you both race after the hovercraft.

You feel the speeder slow as the hovercraft drops Sulet off at some upper level quarters. The prime location and size alone tells you that they have the credits to employ their own personal spy.

You watch from above as the Adarian looks around furtively and moves inside.

“What do you think?” You ask Cassian.

“It could be a trap,” he replies. “They were smart enough to figure out we’re part of the Rebellion, they had to have known we’d be able to follow them at any point in time.” He peers down at the unassuming penthouse below.

“Especially with that device and what they heard this morning after we… after.” You blush profusely at the memories that are only hours old and remembering how loud you were when you came on Cassian’s hard…

Stop it.

“We need to be careful,” Cassian murmurs. “Backup will not arrive for a while yet.”

You nod against his shoulder blade and have him settle the speeder down onto the same landing pad the hovercraft dropped the Adarian off. You grasp your blaster firmly in your hands, ready to defend yourself. Cassian follows you as you both dismount and make your way slowly and cautiously to the doors.

You settle either side of the opening and look into each other’s eyes, signaling your readiness after not hearing anything from inside. You both jump away from the wall and bring your blasters up, pointing directly into the darkened living space. There is no sign of movement, the Adarian nowhere to be found.

Sparing a quick glance at Cassian, he motions for you to search your half of the room. You nod. Creeping along the wall, you scan behind the sofa and nudge the window coverings.

Nothing.

You look over to Cassian and find him already looking your way. He shakes his head, not having found anyone either.

“I don’t like this,” you mouth. Cassian agrees with another head shake.

You’re just turning to face the closed door keeping you both out of the rest of the home, when the door suddenly flies open and there’s a blaster pointed right at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise. Your training kicks in and your blaster seems to aim itself while you dodge for cover. Your blaster isn’t the only one that had gone off – Cassian slams into the cushions behind you and rolls down to crouch on the floor with you, his blaster smoking.

Adrenaline is high as you and Cassian take turns to give covering fire as you make your way slowly back towards the landing pad and your stolen speeder. You’re hunched behind a sturdy end table, waiting for your blaster to cool off, while Cassian fires on your assailants. He’s positioned not far from you, his back to the exit to cover your next move so he doesn’t see the figure land just outside the doors.

“Cassian!” you yell desperately, reaching a hand towards him to drag him down and out of the way of blaster fire. Your gun is still too hot, incapable of taking out the figure that has the two of you pinned down. Your hand clutches Cassian’s shirt, twisting him and throwing him down to the floor on your other side. Unfortunately, his weight destabilizes your center of balance, causing your bent legs to give way and making you topple sideways over Cassian’s now prone figure.

A sharp pain slams into your left shoulder blade. You cry out, but still whirl around to fire, hoping beyond hope that your blaster has had enough time to equilibrate. A bright red beam soars from your gun and hits your opponent square in the chest. They go down with a soft thud, leaving your escape path clear.

You turn back to Cassian, planning to grab him and run, but you’re frozen by the look on his face and his hands around his throat. Cassian sputters as if he can’t breathe, trying desperately to claw at his throat to relieve whatever invisible force is closing his airways.

Force.

Maker be damned.

You move your eyes back to the doorway where all your adversaries had seemed to pour only moments ago. Bodies litter the ground, the Adarian’s among them, courtesy of your and Cass’s excellent aim, but there was one person still standing.

A familiar figure you hadn’t seen since you kicked her out of your ‘home’ at your first party.

Your mother stands there, one hand directed at Cassian, fingers curling inward.

“Daughter,” she greets smugly.

“Let him go.” Your voice comes out as a hiss, spitting venom towards the woman in front of you. You already have your blaster pointed directly at her head.

Your mother clucks her tongue. “Now, now, dear. You wouldn’t want to make me kill your husband now, would you?” 

Her fingers come closer together, and Cassian falls to his knees. Your heart twists in your chest at seeing Cassian in pain, but you dare not take your eyes and your aim from your mother.

“Stop.”

“Lower the weapon and I’ll let him go,” she croons with a smile on her face. She is enjoying watching you plead for Cassian’s life. You’re tempted for a split second to do as she says, but Cassian interrupts you before you even move.

“No. Princessa, no,” he gasps. “Kill her.”

Your eyes meet his, and you see determination blazing through him. His strength lends you the power to turn back to your mother and pull the trigger.

Instead of your finger squeezing the trigger, you feel it extending away. You curse and try with all your might to fire your blaster.

Tutting softly, your mother shakes her head.

“I was giving you one last opportunity, daughter.”

Her fingers close the gap between each other and Cassian slumps to the floor.

“NO!” you scream, panicked. You watch Cassian’s chest for any sign of movement, but before you can confirm anything, you feel your own throat being squeezed.

You gasp and turn your focus back on your mother, trying desperately to think of any way out of this before you, too, lost consciousness.

A short sigh leaves your mother’s mouth. “Look what you’ve done, now.”

“Me?” you struggle past your lips. “This is all you.”

“No,” she says firmly. “This is all because of you. Everything I do is because of you.”

Rage burns through you and your words come out icy. “Everything you’ve ever done is all for yourself, mother.” You take as deep of a breath as you can to continue. “Nothing you ever did benefited me.”

“I made you strong,” she growls.

“You abused me!” you cry. Big, fat tears drop from your eyes and what little breath you’ve been able to pull in leaves you in stuttered breaths. “My entire childhood was ruined because of you! My only solace, my only happiness, my only friends. You made them think I was dead!”

“Friends,” she scoffs, tossing her hair over one shoulder. “We don’t need friends. We’re better than everyone else! They should worship us, our strength, our power! We are above them!”

“No,” you whisper out. “We are not better than anyone. We are not anything! You! You think that way. You hurt and maimed and killed so many people because you thought it was entertaining! Because you thought it would teach me ‘strength’.” 

There’s blackness creeping along the outsides of your vision, all the air you’re expelling in your tirade causing a loss of oxygen in your lungs and brain, your heart pumping overtime to accommodate. You gasp big, heaving breaths as you collect yourself.

Your mother stands rooted, anger apparent in the severe set of her mouth and deeply furrowed brows. Her eyes could set the whole city on fire.

You know that there is no coming back from this moment – that whatever happens here, there will only be one of you to make it out alive.

The problem you’re facing now is that you haven’t used your power in years. Over a decade, maybe. The mental muscles you used in adolescence have atrophied in the years that you’ve pushed this part of yourself into the background, trying to forget. 

You pull with all your might, forcing your awareness to focus on your mother. You search deep within her, past organs, past muscle, past tendons. You reach into her cells, finding those miniscule particles she had taught you were the key to your powers. 

You call out to them. Asking, begging, pleading them to obey you. Wanting them to do something that will stop your mother.

Stop her from killing you now. Stop her from hurting Cassian any further – if it wasn’t already too late. Stop her from continuing on this dark path that can only lead to death and destruction.

You feel a rush when the little beings begin to vibrate. It begins as a quiet little shiver, but slowly builds.

Your mother’s eyes widen in fright, her focus broken between cutting off your air or protecting herself from you.

“What are you doing?!” she shouts, arms quivering. She can barely stand, her legs are bowing at the knees and she begins to sink down onto the ground.

The shivering envelopes her cells, vibrates her muscles, quakes her entire body, until she can no longer maintain her hold over you. She collapses forward, crying helplessly. 

The rage you’ve suppressed for your entire life boils through your veins, setting you alight. You feel good. Strong. Stronger than you’ve ever felt; the trials and tribulations she put you through growing up not even comparable to your feelings now. 

“Please. Please! Daughter, stop! Stop!” she sobs into the carpet, curling into herself as if to protect herself from a violent beating, from a violent person. 

But no other threat exists. Only you.

“Why?” you whisper hoarsely, voice barely loud enough to cross the distance between you and your pathetically weeping mother. “You never did.”

With a violent yank, you grab onto the essence within your mother, pulling it away from her and towards you.

She screams for a split second as the power leaves her body, and then she falls unconscious. All the power that once filled her now dances around you. You can feel the energy they house, their want of a new host, their preference for you.

You allow them in.

There’s a tingling sensation across your skin, a warmth enfusing into your blood. You shiver softly, close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. You feel at peace, calm. All your worries have disappeared knowing that your mother could never hurt you again.

A pained groan fills the silence that had settled around you. You jolt, realizing that you need to check on Cassian.

Feeling immensly guilty for taking so long but also incredibly grateful that he is still alive, you rush over to his side. He still lays on the floor with his eyes closed, but you see his chest moving rhythmically with each breath. As you place a hand on his chest, Cassian’s eyes flutter open.

You grin down at him, enjoying the contact as he places his hand over yours.

“You…” he breathes. “You did it.”

“Yes,” you say. “I did. Finally.”

Cassian smiles up at you, pride evident in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Princessa.”

The warmth from both the power and Cassian’s hand travels to your heart, filling it with love and hope for a long life with the man here with you. 

“Come on,” you urge gently, tugging Cassian into a sitting position so that you can help him stand. “Let’s get back to base so that you can rest.”

Cassian comes to his feet and you pull one of his arms over your shoulders, allowing him to place his weight against you. You both begin to shuffle away when Cassian turns his head to look back over his shoulder.

“What about her?” he questions.

You glance back as well to see the crumpled woman on the floor. You no longer feel any fear, or anger, or hatred towards her. You feel nothing at all.

“I honestly don’t care,” you reply. “When our backup gets here, they can take her or leave her. I don’t care what happens to her after today.”

Cassian reaches across his body and clasps your hand within his. He gives a firm squeeze, then interlocks your fingers. Placing a soft kiss on your temple, he urges you to keep moving forward.

As you both walk into the fading sunset, you see a picture in your mind. A murkiness around the edges trying to invade the focal point of the image. But that center pulses with an overwhelming feeling of love, and safety, and contentment. 

You and Cassian stand together inside the image, holding onto each other and never letting go.

[bethsvrse]

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever

[miryum]

does anyone else get, like, jealous when a fictional character dates or has a crush on another character?

... no? just me?

[l0caltiredgirl]

when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut

the struggle is real

[luffyssa]

[surielstea]

Can I get HCs for the Bat Boyz & the autumn boyz (Eris & Lucien, my favourites) with this dialogue:

“There’s nowhere to sit” “My lap is right here.”

Bonus points: if it’s not always the boyz’ lap that’s being referenced here. Personally I think Lucien, Rhys and Cass would find it hilarious.

Thank you! 💀

“My lap is right here.”

Pairing: ACoTaR men x Fem!Reader (separately)

Summary: requested above.

Warnings: All fluff with some suggestiveness!

A. Note: this is just a little something for you guys while I finish my Azris x Reader story (it’s already 10k words…) it’s gonna take me a minute to edit that so enjoy this while you wait! :)

Rhysand

Rita's was packed, the music thrumming through the air, a bass-heavy pulse that vibrated through the floor. Laughter and conversation wove together, filling the space with an electric kind of energy. You should have expected this—should have known that a night out with the Inner Circle would be anything but quiet.

The lot of you had managed to snag one of the larger rounded booths, a semicircle of plush velvet meant for maybe six or seven people. But there were ten of you, and despite the shuffling, adjusting, and outright shoving that had taken place, only nine had managed to squeeze in.

Which left you standing there, arms crossed, staring at the filled seats.

"Well, where am I supposed to sit?" you asked, arching a brow as your so-called friends barely spared you a second glance. Even Amren—tiny, ruthless Amren—had somehow managed to claim a spot.

Before anyone could answer, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you forward with a familiar, effortless strength. A gasp left your lips as you tumbled into a broad, solid chest, your mate's scent of sea salt and citrus washing over you as he caught you with ease.

"My lap is right here, darling," Rhys purred into your ear, his voice a velvety caress. His arms caged you against him as he leaned back into the booth, utterly at ease with you in his lap. "This seat is always reserved for you."

A flush crept up your neck, heat coiling low in your stomach as his lips ghosted over the sensitive spot just below your ear. You swatted at his arm half-heartedly, though you didn't move away.

"Get a room," Cassian groaned, shaking his head. "Or at least wait until we've had a few drinks before you start eye-fucking each other."

"Oh, please," Mor cut in, already sliding out of the booth. "Tell me about it, Cass. I'm getting a round."

"Get us doubles!" Amren called after her. "We're going to need them." She sighed beneath her breath.

The table erupted in laughter, but Rhys barely paid them any mind. His fingers traced idle patterns along your thigh, his lips still dangerously close to your ear.

"You don't mind sitting here, do you?" he murmured, the hint of amusement in his voice making it clear he already knew the answer.

You tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze, violet eyes dark with mischief. "I think you planned this," you accused, narrowing your eyes.

His smile was all wickedness and charm. "And if I did?"

You huffed, shaking your head—but you didn't move from his lap. And judging by the way his hands tightened ever so slightly on your hips, you doubted he had any intention of letting you go.

Let Mor bring the drinks. You had everything you needed right here.

Azriel

"Hi, handsome," you greet, a smile curling at your lips as you swing open the door to your apartment. The crisp scent of rain drifts in with the night air, mingling with the warmth of your cozy home. Azriel stands in the doorway, shadows curling subtly around him as if hesitant to cross the threshold.

His hazel eyes soften as he takes you in, lingering on the comfortable sweater you've thrown on, the glow of candlelight flickering in the background. He steps inside, shaking a few stray raindrops from his hair, and you close the door behind him, shutting out the storm.

"You're soaked," you remark, reaching out to help him shrug off his damp jacket. His fingers brush against yours as he hands it over, and even with the chill clinging to the fabric, his touch is warm.

"It's cold out there," he murmurs, eyes scanning the space around him. He's never been to your apartment before, and you watch with amusement as his gaze sweeps over the small but welcoming interior—books stacked in uneven piles, a few blankets draped over the couch, a candle flickering on the coffee table. A place lived in. A place entirely yours.

"But it's nice in here," he adds, his voice dipping lower as he turns back to you.

You barely have time to process his words before his lips are on yours—slow, deliberate, his hands coming up to cradle your jaw as he deepens the kiss. You melt into him for a moment, savoring the warmth that spreads through your chest before you pull away with a playful smile.

"Come on," you say, tugging him toward the couch. "Make yourself comfortable."

Azriel hesitates. It's subtle—the slight shift of his weight, the way his wings twitch behind him as he glances at the couch. It's not exactly built to accommodate a six-foot-something Illyrian warrior with a wingspan that could cast an eclipse over your entire living room.

"Uh... where should I sit?" he asks, the uncertainty in his voice so rare it almost makes you laugh.

You smirk, patting your lap in invitation. "Right here's an option."

His lips twitch in amusement, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his gaze before he makes his decision—easing down onto the couch beside you instead. His wing unfurls slightly, shifting behind you before settling around your shoulders like a warm, protective cloak.

You hum contentedly, pulling a blanket over both of you and nestling into his side. The steady beat of his heart thrums against your ear as you relax into the comfort of his presence.

"Thought you'd take me up on my offer," you tease, tilting your head to glance up at him.

His lips brush against your temple, voice low and amused. "Maybe next time."

For now, you're more than happy with this—wrapped in the warmth of him, the scent of rain and cedarwood clinging to his skin, and the quiet, unspoken promise that he is exactly where he wants to be.

Cassian

"Babe, you in here?"

Cassian's voice carries through the library just before his head peeks around the doorway. You don't bother looking up, too engrossed in the book cradled in your hands—a detailed account of art created during the war. Nestled beneath a thick pile of blankets in a massive leather chair that practically swallows you whole, you simply lift one hand from the cocoon of warmth and wave lazily.

"Here."

He steps inside, brows knitting together. "I called you through the bond. You didn't answer."

"I'm reading," you murmur distractedly, flipping a page without sparing him a glance.

"Reading or not, answer next time. I was worried, okay?" His voice dips into something softer, more serious as he strides deeper into the room.

You hum in vague acknowledgment but don't respond, eyes locked on the words before you.

“Baby," he tries again, tapping a finger against the edge of your book.

You snap your gaze up at him, blinking as if just now remembering his presence. "Huh?"

Cassian exhales through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Okay?" he repeats, waiting for some kind of confirmation.

Not entirely sure what you're agreeing to but wanting to return to your book, you nod absently. "Yeah, okay."

He watches you for a long moment, his broad shoulders deflating when you go right back to reading. The silence stretches between you, filled only with the soft crackling of the fireplace and the faint rustle of pages.

"Aren't you going to ask why I was looking for you?" His voice carries the weight of expectation.

"...No." You shrug, completely unrepentant.

Cassian lets out a dramatic sigh, his hope for your attention swiftly diminishing. "If you look at me right now, I'll leave you alone with your book," he mutters.

Your head snaps up instantly, locking onto his warm caramel gaze.

"Cauldron, you're determined," he grumbles. Then, in one swift motion, he swipes your book from your hands and snaps it shut.

You gasp, eyes widening as you reach for it. "Cassian!"

"You can read later. Give me attention now," he hums, looking far too pleased with himself.

You narrow your eyes at him, lips parting to protest, but then an idea strikes. You soften your expression, tilt your head slightly, and give him the biggest, most pitiful puppy-dog eyes you can manage.

His smirk falters. Then crumbles entirely.

"Okay, I'm sorry," he blurts, scrambling to return your book. He flips it open and, somehow, miraculously lands on the exact page you were on.

You blink in surprise before shooting him a suspicious look.

"What?" he says innocently, though the glint in his eye suggests he knew exactly what he was doing.

Still, you smile in triumph, sinking deeper into the chair and pulling the book back into place.

Cassian frowns at you, clearly still unsatisfied, and before you can react, he swoops in, effortlessly lifting you from your seat.

A startled yelp escapes you as he sets you on your feet, stealing your chair for himself. You huff but refuse to be deterred, standing directly in front of him, reading as if nothing had happened. Every so often, you flick a page, ignoring the weight of his amused stare.

A sudden shiver wracks through you, the realization settling in—you had been so warm under that blanket. You glance up to find Cassian comfortably wrapped in it now, looking entirely too smug.

"Give me my spot back," you grumble, crossing your arms.

"My lap is right here," he counters smoothly, patting his thigh.

You roll your eyes but don't hesitate long before crawling into his lap. His arms immediately come around you, securing you against his chest as he reclines the chair back. The warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart against your back, melts away any lingering annoyance.

Without another word, you resume reading, far more comfortable now than you had been before. Cassian presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, fingers threading through your hair in a way that is both distracting and soothing.

You silently thank him for keeping your hair out of your face, appreciating, despite everything, that he always finds a way to take care of you—even when he's being insufferable.

Eris

The golden throne is a masterpiece—intricate carvings of twisting flames and autumn leaves adorning the armrests, the deep red cushions a striking contrast against the polished gold. But the true vision of perfection is the male seated upon it.

Eris, legs spread carelessly, his head resting against his palm, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. His auburn hair catches the flickering candlelight, a halo of fire framing his sharp, impossibly beautiful features. His amber eyes—always so sharp, always so calculating—soften slightly as they land on you.

You shift your weight, feeling oddly out of place as you stand before him. "So... do I get a throne too?" you ask, tilting your head.

Eris raises a single brow, amusement flickering across his face. "Why?"

You blink at him. "Because this is the throne for the ruler of Autumn," he explains, as if the answer is obvious.

"Right," you say, crossing your arms. "But I just mean... I'm High Lady. Shouldn't I have a throne too?"

It feels strange, asking for something like this, but before you were even married, Eris made it abundantly clear—you are his equal in all things. He's never once treated you as anything less.

He exhales softly, watching you as if he's trying to puzzle something out. Then, finally, he shrugs. "We share a bed. Shouldn't we share a throne?"

Your lips part in protest. "It's not exactly large enough—"

But before you can finish, Eris moves. With a fluidity that makes your breath hitch, he reaches forward, gripping your wrist and tugging you toward him. A startled gasp escapes you as you stumble, catching yourself on the arm of the throne just as you land in his lap, straddling one of his thighs.

The position leaves your faces mere inches apart—your wide eyes meeting his entirely relaxed, smirking expression.

His hands settle on your waist, fingers drumming idly against the fabric of your dress. "We can get you your own throne if you really want, pretty," he murmurs, his voice a silken promise. "But what's mine is yours. So share this with me—for now, okay?"

You stare at him, still slightly stunned by the sudden shift, the warmth of him seeping into you, the firm press of muscle beneath you. His scent—smoke and crisp autumn air—wraps around you, grounding you in the moment.

Slowly, you nod.

"Good," he whispers, his smirk softening into something dangerously close to adoration before he leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss.

A kiss that lingers, that tastes of fire and devotion.

And as you melt into him, you think—perhaps his lap as a throne was a perfectly good alternative.

Lucien

The gathering was already in full swing by the time you and Lucien arrived. The grand hall, adorned in golden candlelight and autumnal tapestries, was packed with High Fae from various courts. A long banquet table stretched through the center of the room, lined with platters of rich food and goblets of deep red wine.

You had expected a formal meeting—discussions of trade agreements, court relations, maybe a bit of posturing. What you hadn't expected was an entire buffet spread out on the table, and for every seat to be taken.

Lucien, of course, had found one easily, already seated comfortably among the dignitaries. His russet-red hair gleamed under the chandelier's glow, and he looked completely at ease, one arm draped over the back of his chair, a goblet in his other hand. He was already speaking with someone from the Winter Court, his voice warm and smooth—an effortless diplomat.

You stood at the edge of the table, scanning for an open seat. Nothing.

Lucien's keen gaze flicked to you. A slow, knowing smirk stretched across his lips. "Problem, darling?"

You crossed your arms, pursing your lips. "There's nowhere to sit."

Lucien took a languid sip of his wine, clearly reveling in your predicament. Then, with all the smugness in the world, he patted his thigh. "My lap is right here."

You shot him a sharp look, but he only raised a brow, entirely unbothered. His amber eye gleamed with mischief, the gold in it catching the candlelight. "Unless you'd rather sit in one of my brother’s advisor’s lap?" he mused, tilting his head toward the older men at the end of the table, who were giving you disgusting looks but thankfully too far away to catch wind of Lucien's ridiculous suggestion.

Your glare hardened. "Absolutely not."

Lucien grinned like the cat that got the cream. "Then by all means, make yourself comfortable."

You let out a long, suffering sigh before lowering yourself onto his lap, doing your best to maintain your dignity. His arms came around you without hesitation, one resting lightly at your waist while the other adjusted to make space.

“You know,” He started, lips brushing your ear. "You could have at least pretended to resist a little longer," he murmured, his voice low, meant only for you.

"If this makes a scene, you suffer the consequences."

Lucien hummed in amusement, fingers absently tracing patterns against your hip. "I think I rather like these consequences."

You were about to retort when a voice from across the table chimed in. "Comfortable?"

You looked up to find Helion watching the two of you with raised brows, his expression far too entertained.

Lucien didn't miss a beat. "Very," he replied smoothly, fingers tightening just slightly at your waist.

Helion chuckled, shaking his head, but said nothing more. Like father like son.

You, on the other hand, were going to murder Lucien the second you were out of sight of the High Lords.

But for now, as the night carried on, his warmth steady beneath you, his presence grounding in a way you weren't entirely ready to admit—you allowed yourself to relax, just a little.

And if Lucien pressed an occasional kiss to your shoulder throughout the evening, well... you supposed you could let that slide.

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[illyrianbitch]

Words of Affirmation

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: Even the Lord of Bloodshed gets insecure sometimes. As his mate, you always know the right words to say.

Warnings: established relationship fluff :)

Word Count: 2.3k

just a quick sweet fluffy piece to make up for all my angst. dedicated to the one and only @sarawritestories

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Cassian would never admit it, but the assumptions of his intelligence bothered him. He was always a brute, a mindless warrior, a soldier— nothing more. He knew, deep down, that his brothers rivaled him in all matters of the mind. They were more collected, more capable with familial matters and court affairs. Simply put, they were smarter. 

And he had accepted that— at least, he told himself he had. After all, he was talented where it mattered. He was a good male, a good friend, a good brother, a good commander— and amazing in bed. So truly, it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did when his meeting with Eris went sour. 

Cassian entered the room with heavy steps, a frown on his face as he began to peel off his coat, each movement slow and heavy with frustration. A part of him hoped that he could shed more than just the layer of clothing, hoped that coming home would rid him of the insecurity that had threaded itself through his ribs.

You observed him quietly, taking in the way his muscles tensed and released with each motion, the subtle clenching of his jaw, the deep exhale. He hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t made his classic entrance. On most days, Cass would return home with a huge grin, door thrown wide open as he bellowed out your name with a burning heart.

But he was quiet today. And you knew exactly why– you could feel it through the bond. Cassian was sad. 

Your footsteps were quiet against the wood floors as you slowly walked towards him. 

“Things didn’t go well?” 

Your voice was soft and gentle and the sound of it sent a ripple of relief through his body. Still, he felt heavy. Tired. He sighed, his shoulders slumping as he finally discarded his coat onto a nearby chair. “I don’t know how Rhysand does it.”

“Does what?” 

“This whole diplomacy thing, even Azriel. I just… I couldn’t. I'm too stupid for it. Just an idiot.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a heaviness settling on the glowing bond in your chest. You wanted to console him, to fight and kill whatever it was that was unsettling him so deeply. But the thing that was causing Cassian pain wasn’t anything you could fight yourself. It was his own mind, the insecurities he was too afraid to acknowledge. 

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he waved you off with a frustrated gesture.

“I know, I know,” he murmured, his tone heavy with defeat, “I’m just whining. I’ll get over it.”

You frowned, letting out a small breath. 

“No, don’t say that,” you said gently, taking a step closer to him. “You’re allowed to be frustrated. But you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed.

“I’m not?” 

You took in the sight of your mate for a moment, took in his long hair and brown eyes, took in the stubble on his jaw and the way he let out a small breath. You extended your hand to him, voice low as you murmured, “C’mere, honey.”

He hesitated for a moment before he gently took your hand and closed the distance between you, large arms wrapping around your waist as he looked down at you. 

“You are a big ole’ dummy,” you teased lightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you put your hands around his neck. You felt Cassian melt into your touch ever so slightly, eyes shuttering closed as a small hum left his lips. “But you are brilliant. Like really fucking smart.”

Cassian’s eyes opened to meet yours, somewhat narrowed in skepticality. You rubbed the nape of his neck with your thumbs. 

“I mean, you’re a war general. You’ve commanded hundreds of soldiers, have won countless battles– wars, even. You couldn’t get away with those things as an idiot.”

Cassian grumbled, but you caught the hint of a smile dancing in his stormy eyes, felt the tension in his shoulders beginning to ease. A wry chuckle bubbled up from deep within him as he shook his head, his lips quirking up in a brief smile.

“Well, I don’t know about that one, we have Beron and Tam-”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Would you just let me compliment you?” You interrupted with a gentle shake of your head, eyebrows raised as you looked at him. 

A soft chuckle escaped him. “My bad.”

“You are so incredibly smart,” you repeated earnestly, slightly pulling him down and urging him to place his forehead against yours. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze heavy as he searched for something in your eyes. He seemed to find it as he gave you a small smile. “You really think so?”

You pulled yourself back gently, dropping your hands from his neck to take his in your own. Then, you gently guided one hand to your chest, letting him feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch.

“Does it feel like I’m lying?” you asked softly.

Cassian’s expression softened as his gaze flickered to where your hand held his. You watched as a glow of warmth lit up his eyes. 

“No,” he said quietly, “It does not.”

And then he was bringing his hands to hold your face, leaning in to kiss you tenderly, his lips a gentle caress against yours.

He wasn’t sure if he believed it yet, if he was comfortable enough with considering himself to be smart, let alone brilliant. But you, his beautiful mate, the love of his life— you thought he was smart, you thought he was brilliant.

And truly, that's all that mattered to him. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

It wasn’t that he was insecure about his looks, no, that wasn't it. 

Cassian knew he was attractive, knew that he was hot and ruggedly handsome. He knew from the looks that he got from females and males alike, from the scent changes that he caused, and the lovers he had bedded. 

But sometimes, when standing next to Rhysand and Azriel,  Cassian would catch himself wondering if he was rough around the edges in ways that his brothers were smoother, more appealing. After all, they were the two more classically pretty males, the more softly attractive and very often audibly complimented. 

And then there was him, the rough warrior. 

Attractive, yes, but pretty? Elegant? Those were never words used to describe him. 

There was a soft glow in your room tonight, gentle shadows casted across the bed from flickering fae light. Cassian let out a deep sigh as he prepared to climb into bed, his muscles aching and head heavy as he shed the remenands of his day. 

You watched him with a tender gaze as you lay on the bed. The faintest hint of a smile played at the corners of your lips as your eyes traced the lines of his face. Cass caught your gaze with his own, a warm hearty brown that made your heart flutter. 

A playful smirk tugged at his lips as he noticed your lingering stare. "You like what you see, sweetheart?" 

You grinned, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you tilted your head. "Always.”

With a grin of his own, Cassian began to crawl towards you. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he closed the distance between you, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Admiring how absolutely handsome I am?” he said, “How Incredibly sexy?" 

You let out a small laugh as he reached your face, his body hovering over yours. With a gentle hand, you pushed back his tousled hair, your touch feather-light against his skin. A soft sigh escaped him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the warmth of your touch. His lips wore a content smile. 

"So beautiful," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you traced the contours of his face with your fingertips.

He pulled back slightly, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes scanned your face. You ran your finger along the crease that they created. "Beautiful?" 

You nodded, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Yes, beautiful. Maybe I don't tell you enough."

He chuckled softly as he leaned into your touch, heart swelling with warmth at your words. There was a new flutter in his chest that he didn’t recognize. For a moment, Cassian felt shy— he wasn’t quite sure why. But he laughed it off all the same. 

"That's a word reserved for you, sweetheart." 

You shook your head, your fingers trailing down his cheek to cup his face in your hands. "My beautiful mate,” you whispered, "My handsome, gorgeous, incredibly sexy, and beautiful mate." 

For the first time in a while, Cass was stunned, unable to respond as quickly as he was used to. Your words held a certain reverence to them, a sincerity that made him melt into your touch— made him melt into your voice itself. Before you, Cassian never knew himself as something gentle, as something capable of softness and sensitivity. But here he was before you, in all of his warrior glory, feeling like a child with a playground crush. And there you were, staring at him like he was the most exquisite thing you’d ever laid eyes on. So when words failed him, Cassian did the only thing he saw fit. 

He leaned in to kiss you tenderly, bringing his lips to yours softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, feeling his warmth against you as he smiled into the kiss. From deep within your chest, you felt a glow— a deep, ethereal, and overwhelming glow. 

Beautiful, his mind echoed, beautiful. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You let out a soft sigh as you settled onto the couch with Cassian, pushing yourself further into his warm chest as he wrapped an arm around you. You’d spent the night at the River House, drinking more wine than you could handle and eating almost all of Elain's sweet desserts. There was a smile on your face as your eyes closed, your hearing quickly tuning into the heartbeat of your mate below you. 

You frowned when the sound began to quicken, echoing like a drum in your ears. You pushed yourself up, slightly turning your body and placing a hand on Cassian's chest. When you looked up at him, his face was scrunched, his gaze distant as if lost in contemplation.

Cassian wore a specific face when he was troubled, furrowed brows and a downturn of his lips. He wore it was he was sad or frustrated, when he had thoughts that plagued him at night. The face before you was a troubled one, indeed. But it was less rough than the others he bore, more vulnerable.

You slightly tapped against him with your palm. Cassian blinked at the sensation, then he slowly looked down to meet your eyes with his own. You let your chin fall gently on his chest. 

“What's wrong?”

Cassian managed a smile, shaking his head as he brought his hand to run over your hair. “Nothing.”

You frowned. “Tell me.”

For a moment, Cassian’s thoughts traveled again. Mor’s laugh echoed in his mind, wine glass in hand as she pointed at him. You have the subtlety of a war horn. You’re so loud I can hear you across Prythian. I don’t know how Y/n handles it all the time.

"Am I too loud?" 

His voice came out rushed, drenched in a tinge of what you could only describe as worry— even doubt.

A flicker of surprise passed through your features. “What?”

He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. Mor said something tonight, it just got me thinking.”

“Mor says a lot of things. Especially when she's drunk.”

“I know.” He nodded in agreement, tongue running across his teeth before he let out another sigh. “But she had a point tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did she?”

He took a moment to take you in, to trace the features of your face with his eyes. Absentmindedly, he ran his hands through your hair. 

“Maybe I am too loud.”

Cassian's voice was defeated now, lips naturally falling into a frown. The crease between his eyebrows was still there as he peered down at you, hand still caressing your head.

You stared at him for a moment before you responded. "You're so loud." 

A flicker of disappointment crossed Cassian's face. But before the thought could spread through his mind, a soft smile graced your features. You gave his chest a small kiss. “But I love it. So very much.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up, a sense of release evident in his features as his lips curved into a smile. The crease between his eyebrows faded. "Really?"

"Absolutely," you affirmed, your voice filled with a sincerity that made his heart flutter. "My world would be too quiet without you."

Cassian’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently swiping loose strands away from your forehead. “Yeah?” 

You nodded against him, chin still resting on his chest. “I hear everything I love in your voice.”

He smiled, the bond deep within him singing as he stared at you. He felt you tug at it, felt a roll of warmth run through his body— something gentle, something loving. And for a minute, Cassian could have cried at the sensation, could have cried at the way you looked at him, at how happy he felt. 

With his heart swelling, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you,” he murmured, voice filled with a depth of emotion that he couldn’t quite express in words. He hoped that you could sense it, that you would hear those words and know everything he was trying to say— that you would understand just how much you meant to him, how your love filled him with a sense of peace and belonging he never knew he needed.

With a contented sigh, you snuggled closer to him, feeling his now steady heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know,” you said, “You practically scream it from the heavens.”

Cassian let out a deep laugh, the sound reverberating through his chest. You felt his body move from under you, felt as the sound caressed you like a pair of warm hands. 

As his laughter subsided, Cassian pulled you closer to him. “I’ll keep shouting it so you’ll always hear it,” he whispered.

A warmth spread through you at his words, a feeling of love so strong it was tangible through that sacred tie that connected you.

“And I’ll keep listening.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

me not writing angst?? (i’m about to write the most gut wrenching pieces ever) unheard of. but we love a sweet established relationship <3

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria

[writerinthewoods05]

Here's a little morsel of what I'm posting tomorrow, hope you like it!😘 ~~~~~~~~~~

"uh uh baby, open that pretty mouth of yours, I wanna hear you. Moaning like a good little slut on my cock..." You felt his fingers grasp at the hair at the base of your skull and pull your head from where it was planted in the mattress. Your eyes had rolled back 20 minutes ago and you were beyond words to yell for him now. "C'mon you were doing so good for me baby, where's that dirty fucking mouth of yours when you need it, huh?"

Your legs shook from where you were bent over the bed, your feet lifted only barely on the floor from the force of his thrusts. You felt his hot mouth on the side of your neck and moaned out loudly when he bit down, his hips driving your higher than ever. He wanted you scream so hard you only remembered his name but even that escaped your mind as another wave of blinding hot crashed into you, stealing what little strength you had left, your eyes falling closed in exhaustion. You'd be sore the next day but hopefully it would stand as a reminder to not brat him so hard again, or just maybe it was a reminder to do so much more often...

~~~~~~~~~~

@romantasyreader28

@tele86 @mulansaucey

@jennnsthings @6v6babycheese

@mich0731 @starlightandsouls

@ohemgeewhat @littlelunatica

@icey--stars @paleidiot @jir67

@celestialamore @rcarbo1

@quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

@queenoffeysand @suppppp97

[azsazz]

In Storm

Rancher!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You want a baby and Cassian looks all too good in his flannel.

Warnings: Conversation about having a baby.

Word Count: 1,098

Notes: The Cassian era is era-inggg

_________________________________________

Rainy mornings are your favorite.

The sky cracking open and letting her feelings loose means that you get to sleep in, that your husband’s warm body holds you tightly as rain patters the windows in pretty songs. It means gentle calloused hands roaming your curves, soft breaths as he mouths against your skin. It means a slow and sensual fucking with a steaming hot bath following, where you can lean back into the comfort of Cassian and rest the day away.

But rainy mornings are not his favorite.

You find your husband standing in front of the large windows of the living room, staring out into the expanse of land you get to call yours. Yesterday’s flannel hangs loose around his broad shoulders, unbuttoned from when he’d hastily thrown it on to examine the conditions of the farm under the onslaught of rain. His hair is tousled, not yet thrown up into a haphazard bun the way he does when he works up a sweat from milking the cows or fixing the fence. His feet are bare, just as yours are, the hardwood flooring holding a chilled bite to it as you near his side.

Stepping up next to Cassian, you gaze out the window as well. The weather hadn’t called for a storm but the springtime is unpredictable. The horses graze in the pasture, seemingly unaffected by the drizzling skies. Their coats are dark with water but they’re getting on with their days as if the sun is shining brightly. 

Lightning cracks the sky and Cassian grunts, displeased. You can see it in the downwards slope of his mouth that he’s unhappy with the fact that he hadn’t brought the animals in yesterday, when he knew he smelled the metallic tang of a storm creeping in.

“They’re animals,” you try to soothe, “They should be used to it.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the stallions,” Cassian responds, not even sparing you a glance as he stares at the horses. “But my mares shouldn’t be out in this storm. Especially not Carrington. Ol’ girl can have that foal anytime now and she’s only out in the rain because you were adamant she needed ‘fresh air.’” His voice pitches at the end in a terrible impersonation of you and you scowl.

“So now it’s my fault?” you ask, incredulously. Cassian lets you sidle up to his side anyway, slipping between the opening of his flannel and his bare chest. You nearly growl with delight because he’s so warm. Turning your head, you press your lips to his pec. “You’re grumpy when it rains.”

“‘M grumpy because there’s chores that need to be done,” Cassian sighs, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I should go out there.” 

Out there looks miserable. The trail leading up to the barn is muddy, puddles of rain scattering the path. The rain has kept its steady pour since you’d come down here to find your husband, and if you think he’s grumpy now, you know he’d be absolutely miserable after working out in the rain all day.

“Or, you can stay in here and we can spend a little time together,” you drawl, trailing your fingers along his chest. His muscles clench the closer to his waistline that you get. 

His hazel gaze cuts down to yours, “Last night wasn’t enough for you?” Cassian muses, eyes sparkling in the way that you know you have him. 

“Won’t be enough for me until I look like your best girl Carrington out there, nice and full with child.” 

Cassian’s fingers still from where they’re tracing patterns on your hip. “You really want one, don’t you?” He asks softly.

You shrug. It hasn’t been something you’ve talked about much, a child. Cassian is busy running the ranch and ever since Rhysand and Feyre moved closer to the hustle and bustle of the city to raise Nyx, you haven’t had anyone to really talk to besides the mares. And they just whinny and snort at everything you say. 

“It would mean extra hands around the farm,” you try to play off, cheeks heating. You slide from his side, eager to dispel the conversation your husband surely doesn’t want to have at this very moment. Not while Carrington is getting rained on, Gods forbid. “What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? An omelet? I just gathered the eggs yesterday morning so they’ll be nice and fresh.”

“Hey,” Cassian calls gently, snagging your hand as you try to dip away. He tugs you back to his chest, bushing some of your sleep mussed hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear so he can caress your cheek. His hazel eyes search yours, and the frown tugging his lips downward makes your heart ache. “Don’t walk away from me, sweetheart. You want a baby?”

Your eyes well with tears the longer he stares at you. His brows are pulled tight as he waits patiently for your response. The emotion in your throat is thick, but you nod, voice coming out raspy with it when you answer. “More than anything.” 

Cassian nods a little, taking in your answer. His throat bobs but he’s agreeing, nodding firmer. “Then let’s have one.” 

Your entire body locks up at his words. You didn’t think it would be so easy to convince him. All you had to do all of this time was ask? Surely, that is not the case.

But Cassian would be so wonderful with a child in his arms. He’d love them just as perfectly as he loves you, as he cares for the animals of his ranch. You’ve seen him with the foals and chicks and lambs. How he holds each one with care and parades them around the ranch, kissing their little heads and talking to them in soft voices. He’s made to be a father, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

“We’re trying to have a baby,” you breathe, clutching onto him. An all-consuming feeling rushes through your body, nerves perhaps, because holy shit, you and Cassian are going to try for a baby. “We’re trying for a baby!”

Cassian grins, mirroring your excitement. He pulls you into his arms and you lock your legs around his waist immediately, diving down to capture his mouth against yours. The kiss is exhilarating, hot and sensual as they both of you settle into the feeling that maybe this time next year, it could be you giving birth instead of Carrington.

You could not be more excited for the adventure you and your husband are about to embark on.

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Cass & Bun AU | Cassian x Reader

Cassian might spend his days training and fighting, but when he comes home, all he wants is you, his sweet Bunny.

Bouncing

Come and talk to me about Cassian and Bunny!

Is there something you'd like to see in a Cas & Bun story? Requests are open!!!

[dumb-ster-fire]

His Unholy Voice

Azriel x mate!reader

Summary: Cassian dares Azriel to call Y/N a “good girl,” and the River House descends into chaos.

a/n: Y/N has shadows and starlight powers because why not?🤭 This tid-bit of info will make sense as you read.

Masterlist

———————————————————————————

The late afternoon sun slanted lazily through the windows of the River House, bathing the living room in golden light. The air hummed with quiet conversation and the soft clinking of glasses, the occasional flutter of faelight drifting near the ceiling like drowsy stars. Velaris stretched peacefully outside the tall windows, but inside, the Inner Circle was gathered in their usual chaotic harmony.

Cassian was draped across one of the oversized couches like a lounging mountain, one foot on the coffee table, sipping from a glass of something amber. Nesta was curled beside him, her legs tucked under her as she read, pretending to ignore him—but everyone could see the slight curve to her lips at whatever nonsense he’d just said.

Rhys was stretched on another couch, Feyre leaning against his side as they shared a blanket, her sketchpad resting on her knees. She was absently doodling swirls of starlight and wings, her free hand curled around Rhysand’s fingers. Mor sat on the floor nearby, polishing her nails with a spell that shimmered gold and green with every flick of her hand. Elain, quiet but present, was perched in a window seat with a tray of tea, and Lucien lounged beside her, one arm slung lazily over the backrest as they chatted in low tones.

Amren reclined in a dark armchair, looking like a cat in the sun, sipping a goblet of something no one dared ask about, eyes half-lidded but sharp as ever.

Azriel sat in an armchair near the fireplace, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders like smoke. He had a book in his lap, unopened, because his attention kept flickering toward the open doorway leading to the kitchen.

That was where Y/N was.

They could hear her moving, her bare feet padding softly across the tile, cabinet doors opening and shutting, and an unmistakably muttered, “Where the fuck are the cheesy things?” drifting into the room.

Azriel’s lips quirked at that—barely—but the others noticed.

Cassian saw it first. And grinned like a predator spotting prey.

“Hey, Az,” Cassian said loudly, his voice a low drawl. “I dare you to call Y/N a good girl when she walks back in.”

The room went still for a beat.

Azriel’s shadows recoiled, like startled birds.

Feyre choked on her tea. Mor burst out laughing. Nesta looked up sharply, her brows lifting. Even Amren cracked one glowing eye open, clearly intrigued.

Elain blinked in quiet horror. Lucien looked like someone had lit a match under his chair.

Azriel didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe for a second.

“That’s low,” he muttered, but his voice betrayed the flicker of interest. Mischief.

Cassian leaned in, devilish. “Come on, brother. She melts when you say it. Like a dying star. She forgets her name. For science.”

“You’re an idiot,” Azriel replied, but he was already shifting, the barest smile tugging at his lips.

Cassian’s eyes glinted with glee. “For the record, I dare you.”

From the kitchen came the crinkling sound of a bag being triumphantly torn open. And a triumphant, “Aha!”

Y/N stepped into the doorway, holding a bag of some cheesy snack triumphantly, her hair catching the sunlight, shadows trailing behind her like a cloak, starlight dancing in her eyes.

And Azriel, cool as ever, looked up at her from his chair and said—soft and low, like a forbidden promise, the kind of voice that could make anyone forget the world—

“Good girl.”

Y/N froze.

The snack bag slipped slightly in her fingers.

The world—no, the entire house—held its breath.

Her pupils dilated. Her chest rose sharply with a breath. Knees buckled just a little. A flush crept up her cheeks, slow and deep. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Cassian exploded into laughter. “CAUGHT!”

Nesta threw a pillow at him.

Mor squealed. “She’s literally blushing! Az, do it again—do it again!”

Feyre nearly dropped her sketchpad as she laughed. Rhysand looked vaguely scandalized. Amren smirked over the rim of her goblet.

Azriel… was already on his feet, stalking toward Y/N like a shadow come to life, all dark promise and slow steps, his smirk lazy, knowing.

Y/N stood there like someone had unplugged her brain, cheesy snack bag clutched in one limp hand, completely undone by two words.

“Stars,” she muttered, barely audible. “That’s not fair.”

He stopped just in front of her, dipped his head until their mouths almost touched, and whispered once more, like a gift and a curse—

“Good girl.”

The snack bag hit the floor.

Chaos erupted in the living room behind them.

But Y/N only had eyes for Azriel, and he for her.

Cassian, somewhere behind them, crowed: “Best. Dare. Ever.”

Y/N didn’t stand a chance.

Not with that voice in her ear. Not when his hand slid around her waist with the barest pressure, fingers splaying possessively over her hip. Not when his shadows curled around her ankles and calves like warm silk, winding upward in slow, teasing spirals. Her knees gave a telltale wobble, and she might’ve leaned into him more than she meant to.

Azriel tilted his head, studying her with that impossibly focused gaze, the one that said he saw everything—every blush, every flicker of breath, every tremble she couldn’t quite hide.

“You dropped your snack,” he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek, but there was laughter in his tone now. Teasing. Dangerous.

Y/N’s voice was a whisper, scandalized and aroused and helpless all at once. “You’re evil.”

Cassian, from the couch: “Confirmed. Absolute menace. But we love him anyway.”

Rhys groaned into Feyre’s hair. “We need to start setting rules for these gatherings. Like no weaponized mating rituals in the living room.”

Mor was wiping tears from her eyes, still giggling. “Can’t believe how fast her soul left her body. Az, what did you do to her?”

“I said two words,” Azriel said innocently, though his hands hadn’t left Y/N’s waist.

“That you said them,” Feyre pointed out, grinning. “Big difference. If Cassian said it, she’d punch him.”

“True,” Y/N muttered, finding her voice again as she blinked up at her mate, trying to gather her strength. “You’re the only one allowed to say that.”

Azriel’s smirk deepened, pure male satisfaction.

“Say it again and I swear I will melt into the floor,” she whispered, half a warning, half a dare.

He leaned closer, and it was ridiculous—how even his breath on her skin made her insides twist.

But he didn’t say it again. No, instead he brushed a kiss just beneath her ear and murmured something else, something private, only for her—

And whatever he said made her clutch his shirt and mutter something in a language none of them understood. Her accent had thickened, her cheeks were flaming, and her shadows were writhing like they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Azriel just smiled.

Lucien raised a brow from his seat. “I think we just witnessed the mating equivalent of a death blow.”

Elain looked down into her teacup, face burning.

Cassian was howling with laughter. “She short-circuited! You broke her! Y/N, you good?”

Y/N slowly turned her head over Azriel’s shoulder and leveled Cassian with a look of pure venom—except her lips were twitching upward at the corners.

“I’m going to shove cheesy snacks into your mouth until you shut up.”

“Promising me snacks? That’s not the threat you think it is.”

Azriel sighed, then bent down and retrieved the snack bag from the floor, brushing it off before pressing it into her hands. “Here. For your trouble.”

She squinted at him. “If you say it again in that voice, I will not survive the night.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“Azriel.”

But she was laughing now, flushed and glowing in that way she always got around him—like starlight blooming just beneath her skin. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and led her back toward the couch, one hand still at her waist, and she let him.

The others watched them settle onto the floor near the hearth, Y/N leaning into Azriel’s side with the snack bag in her lap, still looking vaguely dazed. Azriel passed her one of the cheesy crisps like she was the queen of Prythian and this was some sacred offering.

Cassian, watching them with exaggerated horror: “We just enabled something truly terrible.”

Nesta: “Good. Now shut up.”

And as laughter filled the room once again, Y/N whispered, only loud enough for Azriel to hear, “I like being your good girl.”

Azriel didn’t say a word.

But his shadows swirled with contentment, and his smile—slow and secret—could’ve set the whole house on fire.

Cassian leaned back against the couch like a smug, overgrown cat, swirling the remains of his drink in his glass. He was watching Y/N and Azriel with that all-too-familiar gleam in his hazel eyes��the one that usually meant trouble was brewing.

Y/N was still nestled beside Azriel near the hearth, curled into his side, her legs tucked beneath her, munching on a cheesy crisp like it was the last edible thing in Prythian. Her cheeks were finally losing some of their deep blush, her breathing mostly even again.

Cassian clearly decided that peace had lasted too long.

With a slow, sly grin, he said to the room—loudly enough that everyone could hear, especially the couple in question—

“Now I’m just curious what her reaction would be if Az said, ‘on your knees.’”

Silence.

Actual, stunned silence.

Rhys choked on air.

Feyre gasped, her eyes wide as dinner plates.

Mor made a noise that was half-squeal, half-scream. “CASSIAN!”

Elain made a soft, scandalized squeak and buried her face in her hands. Lucien immediately reached for his drink, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

Nesta didn’t look up from her book, but her lips twitched as if she were biting back a laugh. “Gods, you’re such a shit-stirrer.”

Azriel didn’t even blink.

Y/N?

Y/N went completely still.

The kind of still that said every system in her body had shut down and restarted in a blaze of chaotic what the fuck.

Her hand froze halfway to her mouth, cheesy crisp inches from her lips. Her pupils dilated so fast it was like someone flipped a switch. She made a small, choked sound and looked at Azriel like he’d somehow already said it.

And Azriel… gods-damned Azriel…

The corner of his mouth lifted. Just slightly. Slowly. Like he was very aware of her reaction—and storing it for later use.

He said nothing.

But his shadows purred.

Y/N slowly turned her head toward Cassian, blinking like someone had just slapped her with a lightning bolt.

“Do you want to die?” she asked sweetly.

Cassian threw his head back and cackled. “Stars, it’s even worse than I thought! You didn’t even say it and she nearly melted into the floor!”

“Cass,” Azriel said, voice low and dangerous—not angry, but possessive, like a quiet warning growl. “Keep talking, and I’ll give her that command right here.”

Y/N made another helpless noise, turning red from her collarbones up.

Mor was dying, absolutely shrieking. “I can’t! I can’t—Az, if you say it I swear I’ll combust!”

Rhys, rubbing his temples like a father who’s lost control of his children: “Someone—anyone—please stop this. Elain looks like she might faint.”

Lucien reached over and gently moved Elain’s teacup away from her lap before something catastrophic could happen.

Meanwhile, Y/N was clutching Azriel’s shirt now, her head buried against his shoulder like she could hide from the conversation—but her body betrayed her. The way her legs shifted, the arch in her back, the way her shadows curled tight around her thighs—

Azriel bent his head close, and whispered something only she could hear. Her gasp was audible.

Cassian, watching the whole thing unfold like a delighted villain, grinned ear to ear. “Yup. That’s going in the record book.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You have a record book?”

He waggled his brows. “I do now.”

Y/N finally peeked up from Azriel’s shoulder, her voice hoarse but steady. “I hope you know that when I recover from this, I’m kicking your ass.”

Cassian smirked. “Fair. But worth it.”

Azriel ran his hand slowly down her spine, a look of dark promise in his eyes.

And he murmured—not loud enough for anyone else to hear, but enough to make her shiver—

“Later.”

Y/N didn’t make a sound.

She just melted. Again.

And Cassian lost his mind.

“YOU GUYS! YOU’RE GONNA KILL HER! STOP!”

Azriel just smiled. And this time… even Rhys looked a little afraid.

But, of course, he was not done.

Because Azriel never let go of an advantage once he had it—and right now, Y/N was flushed, breathless, barely hanging on to the frayed remains of her composure. Cassian’s comment had been the match, but Azriel? Azriel was the flame.

The Shadowsinger reached lazily into the snack bag still resting in Y/N’s lap, pulled out one of the crisps—one of those curled, golden cheesy ones—and held it between his fingers.

Completely casual. Like he hadn’t just whispered promises into her ear. Like he wasn’t still the reason her entire nervous system was currently short-circuiting.

Then, ever so innocently, he turned to her and murmured—

“Open your mouth for me.”

The room went dead silent.

Again.

Feyre’s jaw dropped.

Mor screamed.

Cassian made a wheezing sound and nearly fell off the couch.

Lucien covered his face with his hands and muttered something like, “Oh, for the love of—”

Even Amren, lounging in a chair like some ancient, unimpressed cat, raised a single dark brow.

Y/N?

Y/N made a sound that could only be described as a high-pitched whimper.

Her spine straightened like she’d just been electrocuted, and her hands flew up as if she didn’t know whether to push him away or drag him closer. Her mouth opened—and then promptly snapped shut again, eyes wide in horror at her own reaction.

Azriel blinked at her, all innocence. “What? It’s a snack.”

Liar.

Y/N was staring at the chip like it was the One Ring and she was about to fall to her doom.

“Y-you…” she tried. “You know what you’re doing.”

Azriel tilted his head. “I’m feeding you.”

Cassian, clutching his stomach, howled. “Oh my gods, she doesn’t know whether to eat it or beg.”

Nesta muttered, “I swear if he keeps this up, she’s going to ascend to another plane.”

Mor flung a pillow at Azriel. “Stop corrupting her!”

“Too late,” Y/N whispered, eyes still locked on her mate.

She was vibrating. Her shadows were wrapped tight around her legs again, her starlight flickering faintly along her fingers like her powers couldn’t figure out how to help her.

Azriel leaned in, his voice velvet and low, and added with that damn smirk—

“Be a good girl and open up.”

Y/N made a strangled sound and obeyed before she could think. Mouth open, eyes dazed, spine arching slightly like every cell in her body had been commanded.

He placed the chip on her tongue with gentle, devastating precision.

She didn’t even taste it.

Cassian died.

Dropped off the couch entirely.

Nesta didn’t bother catching him.

Rhys buried his face in Feyre’s lap and moaned. “Make it stop, please, make it stop—”

Elain looked like she was experiencing a crisis. Lucien had gone utterly still beside her, wide-eyed. Mor was wheezing through her laughter.

Y/N, eyes fluttering closed around the cheesy crisp, finally swallowed, then slumped back against Azriel’s shoulder, absolutely done.

“I hate you,” she mumbled.

Azriel just brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, utterly unrepentant.

“No, you don’t.”

And stars help her—

He was right.

Azriel, the insufferable, beautiful bastard, glanced down at his fingers—now dusted with that unmistakable cheesy orange powder from the crisp he’d just fed her. He inspected them with a faint smirk, clearly considering his next move.

Y/N, still recovering, was half-sprawled against his side, her mind mush, her pride in shambles. Her heart was racing, her skin still flushed. One little command and she’d folded like wet parchment.

So, of course, of course he wasn’t done.

Without a word, he lifted his hand—the one with the cheesy dust—and held two fingers in front of her lips, tilting them slightly in offering.

And then, in that dark, low murmur that somehow sounded like a kiss laced with sin—

“Clean my fingers for me, sweetheart.”

Cassian let out an actual scream. Mor shrieked with laughter and nearly fell off the couch.

Feyre smacked Rhys on the arm to stop his uncontrollable snorting. Elain made a noise that may have been a gasp—or a gasped prayer. Lucien had gone completely still again, one eye twitching.

Nesta was watching now, intrigued. “I want to see if she combusts.”

Y/N stared at Azriel’s fingers like they were the gates to Hel. Her lips parted—reflex—and then she slapped a hand over her own mouth.

“Azriel!” she squeaked behind her fingers, eyes wide with shock, heat flooding her cheeks again. “You can’t just—in front of everyone—”

He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Just kept his hand out, that smug little tilt to his mouth.

“I’m just asking for help,” he said, utterly innocent. “You made me touch those chips. Now I’m all messy.”

Cassian, choking on laughter: “This is torture. I didn’t know watching someone descend into horny chaos could be this entertaining.”

Mor couldn’t breathe. “She’s gonna spontaneously ascend. Like full fae goddess mode, just out of sheer flustered thirst.”

Y/N, trembling with internal conflict, very slowly lowered her hand from her mouth. Her eyes were locked on Azriel’s, pupils dilated, lips parted, and her voice came out as a whisper:

“…You’re going to pay for this.”

Azriel’s voice dropped even lower. “Gladly.”

And gods help her—

She leaned forward.

Just the barest brush of her tongue over his fingertips, her eyes fluttering shut like she hated herself for it—and also maybe wanted to crawl into his lap and never leave again.

The moment her tongue touched his skin, his shadows shuddered.

Azriel inhaled through his nose like he’d just been handed every fantasy he’d never dared admit aloud.

Cassian actually collapsed, face-down on the floor, sob-laughing.

Rhys sat up and pointed a warning finger. “No one is allowed to say another word for the rest of the evening.”

Mor was crying. “It’s too late! They’ve corrupted this space forever!”

Y/N leaned back again, cheeks aflame, and buried her face in Azriel’s shoulder with a muffled groan.

“You’re evil,” she muttered.

Azriel wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head, his voice velvet and pure satisfaction.

“You love it.”

Cassian was still on the floor, pounding the hardwood with his fist like this was the greatest entertainment Velaris had ever known. “I take it back—this is better than sparring. Someone bring popcorn. No—cheesy crisps. Give me the cheesy crisps. I want to see what happens if I hold out my fingers.”

Azriel didn’t even look at him. “Try it and lose them.”

Y/N was vibrating in place, her face buried in Azriel’s neck, clearly trying to become one with his shadows to escape the utter humiliation and arousal that had consumed her.

Feyre had thrown a pillow at Rhys. “You’re the High Lord, do something!”

Rhys looked entirely too amused for someone supposedly in control. “This is divine punishment. For all of us.”

Lucien muttered, “I feel like I’m intruding on some very private mating ritual.”

Elain was pink, sipping her tea with trembling hands, her eyes so wide they looked like they’d never close again.

Amren hadn’t moved. “Honestly, I want to see how far this goes. My money’s on Y/N throwing Azriel through the wall before the hour’s done.”

Nesta, still cool and unreadable, just said, “I’ll help patch the wall when it happens.”

Azriel turned to Y/N, still cradling her like she was precious—and absolutely wrecked.

He tilted her chin up just enough to see her eyes, voice low and wicked.

“Still hungry, love?”

Y/N blinked up at him, her voice a whisper. “You are cruel.”

Cassian, from the floor: “He is! Isn’t it amazing? It’s like watching a temple girl be corrupted by the darkest male in existence—”

He paused. “Wait. That’s kinda what’s happening.”

Mor was crying again. “Y/N’s going to explode, and I’m not missing it.”

Y/N—desperate for payback—finally pushed herself upright. Her shadows flickered, starlight trailing her fingertips as she glared at Cassian.

“Oh, you think you’re safe?” she said, voice still breathy but gaining strength. “You want chaos? Fine.”

She pointed a single glowing finger at him. “If you don’t shut your mouth, I will say something to Nesta that will leave you begging.”

Cassian’s smugness vanished instantly.

His head snapped toward Nesta. “She’s bluffing.”

Nesta looked up slowly, like a lioness stirring in the sun. “She’s not.”

Cassian’s eyes went wide. “Y/N. Y/N. We’re friends. Friends.”

Y/N, voice sweet and laced with vengeance: “Then be quiet, General.”

Everyone howled.

Cassian threw a pillow at her. She caught it mid-air, shadows snatching it and gently setting it down beside her.

Azriel was beaming. Actually smiling, proud and delighted.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured in her ear.

Y/N melted. Again. “Gods-dammit—Azriel—!”

“Language,” he whispered, far too amused.

Feyre buried her face in her hands. “We’re never having a normal night again.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “There’s no such thing as ‘normal’ when your brother’s sex voice ruins the entire living room.”

Azriel looked entirely unbothered. “Not my fault she’s obedient.”

Y/N shrieked.

Lucien spit out his wine.

Cassian groaned. “I will never get that image out of my mind.”

Amren sipped her bloodwine and muttered, “Good. Maybe next time you’ll think before daring the Shadowsinger to speak.”

Y/N launched a pillow at Azriel’s face.

He caught it one-handed, grinning. “You missed.”

Her voice came out in a growl, low and breathy.

“I never miss.”

Everyone froze.

Cassian: “Oh, she’s fighting back now.”

Nesta closed her book. “Let her.”

Azriel leaned in again, a challenge in his eyes, his voice practically dripping shadow and seduction.

“Then prove it, little star.”

And just like that—

That was it.

Y/N snapped.

With a strangled sound—something between a shriek and a gasp of pure exasperated sexual frustration—she launched herself fully into Azriel’s lap.

Azriel barely had time to blink before—

WHUMP.

A pillow hit him square in the face.

Then again.

WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP.

“Y/N—” he choked, trying to grab her wrists. “Y/N—”

She straddled him, knees on either side of his thighs, hair wild and falling into her face, eyes blazing, and just kept hitting him with the pillow.

“You. Smug. Bastard. That. Voice. Is. A. Warcrime!”

WHUMP. WHUMP. WHUMP.

Azriel’s shadows scattered in shock, clearly not sure whether to defend him or help Y/N.

Cassian was on his back on the floor, kicking his legs in hysterical laughter. “She snapped, I told you! She SNAPPED!”

Nesta smirked, folding her arms. “I like her more every day.”

Feyre was howling now, clinging to Rhys who looked like he’d aged ten years in the last five minutes. “I don’t even know who I’m rooting for anymore!”

Lucien murmured to Elain, “Should we look away?”

Elain: “I want to…but I can’t.”

Mor had completely lost it, tears running down her cheeks. “This is the best night of my life. I’m going to commission Feyre to paint this.”

Azriel had given up trying to stop her. He just sat there, letting her rain down justice, biting back laughter—though his shadows were trembling, and his smile was only growing wider the more she attacked.

“Mercy,” he said finally, shielding his face with one hand, catching the pillow with the other. “I surrender.”

“You do not!” Y/N shouted, WHACKING him again. “You think you can just ruin my brain in front of everyone and get away with it?!”

“Technically, you climbed into my lap,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

WHACK.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

WHACK.

“You’re not allowed to be hot and smug at the same time!”

Azriel caught the pillow again and suddenly flipped them, faster than anyone could react. Y/N gasped as her back hit the cushions beneath him, the pillow pinned between them, his body covering hers. Shadows coiled around them like a barrier, separating them from the howling laughter around the room.

He leaned close, nose brushing hers.

His voice, damn him, dropped again—

“You like me best like this.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers fisted in the front of his shirt.

Cassian yelled from the floor, “STOP! I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE EXPOSED TO THIS MUCH TENSION!”

Amren stood and dusted off her pants. “Alright. That’s enough. If they start dry-humping on this couch, I’m burning the place down.”

Azriel looked at her without moving. “We’d at least move to the guest room.”

WHACK. The pillow hit him one more time.

Y/N, face flushed and breathless, just stared up at him and muttered:

“…You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Azriel’s grin was all teeth and shadows.

“We both know that’s a lie.”

And every single person in that living room just lost it.

Y/N made a noise—a sound that wasn’t even a word, more like the wail of someone at the very edge of sanity and desire. A feral, strangled growl of pure exasperated chaos.

Then—

Her hands flew up.

And she wrapped them around Azriel’s throat.

Not tight—just enough to shake him.

Azriel let it happen.

His head bobbed slightly as she rattled him like a goblet of wine she was about to shatter. “I hate you!” she half-snarled, half-whimpered, glaring into his stupidly beautiful, smug, night-kissed face.

Azriel didn’t fight back. Just sat there on top of her with that infuriating little smirk tugging at his lips, shadows dancing gleefully behind him like they lived for this exact brand of foreplay.

“You are insufferable,” she hissed, still shaking him, face flushed, heart pounding.

Azriel blinked at her, calm as ever, and asked in the softest, silkiest voice:

“Harder?”

Cassian screamed. “I’M GOING TO ASCEND. AZRIEL’S KINKY. I CALLED IT. I KNEW IT.”

Feyre launched a pillow at him. Rhys tackled him with another.

Lucien actually choked on air and wheezed, “Is this what mating bonds are supposed to be like? Is this…normal?!”

Mor fell off the couch this time, full-on cackling.

Elain had gone completely still, blinking very slowly like her brain was buffering.

Nesta looked like she’d just been handed her favorite wine and a front-row seat to the greatest soap opera in Prythian. “I’m learning things I can never unlearn.”

Y/N released his throat with a groan of utter despair and let her arms flop back down against the cushions.

Azriel, absolutely pleased with himself, leaned down again until his nose brushed hers, shadows still coiling like smug little bastards.

“Finished?” he asked, voice all dark silk.

Y/N stared up at him with narrowed eyes and a trembling lip.

“…No,” she said.

Then she pulled him down by the collar and bit his jaw.

Azriel groaned, low and sharp, the kind that made everyone in the room turn to stone.

Cassian’s voice, faint: “I don’t know if I’m scared or impressed or—actually, no, I’m just scared.”

Rhys looked like he wanted to bury himself in the floor. “Mother above. Take me now.”

Amren drained her glass and muttered, “I told you. We should’ve just let her kill him that day.”

Mor was wheezing, pointing at Azriel. “He’s not even pretending to be cool anymore!”

Azriel, who was now half-lost in Y/N’s hair, let out a satisfied sigh against her ear.

“Still sleeping on the couch?” he murmured.

Y/N’s voice came out breathless, dangerous.

“You’re lucky I don’t banish you to the Illyrian mountains.”

Azriel nuzzled her. “You’d miss me by sundown.”

And Y/N—poor, flustered, still-fuming Y/N—just groaned again and muttered:

“Mother help me, I would.”

The entire Inner Circle groaned in unison.

Cassian had dragged a blanket off the couch and was now dramatically wrapping himself in it, rocking back and forth on the floor like a war survivor. “They’re saying the cutest filth to each other. I can’t live like this. I can’t go on. I need therapy. I need a temple. I need to bathe in salt.”

Nesta kicked him lightly. “You’re the one who started this.”

“I didn’t know it would become a religious experience!” he shot back, clutching the blanket tighter. “He whispered ‘harder’ while being choked—I can never look him in the eyes again.”

Feyre had officially surrendered, head in Rhys’s lap as she weakly muttered, “This is our house. Our house. We have a child. A toddler. We had dinner here an hour ago.”

Rhys was staring blankly at the ceiling. “We should burn the furniture.”

Azriel had not moved.

Still straddling Y/N, his chest rising and falling a bit faster now, jaw still tingling from where she’d bitten him. His shadows rolled lazily over her hips, slipping under the hem of her shirt like they knew no shame, brushing her skin like they were claiming her all over again.

Y/N glared up at him, cheeks burning, breath coming fast.

“I will get revenge for this,” she hissed. “This humiliation. This entire performance.”

Azriel only smiled, infuriatingly calm. “Then I look forward to it.”

WHUMP.

She hit him in the chest with the pillow again.

WHUMP.

He caught it and held it there, pinning her hands beneath his, voice low.

“Or you could surrender now. I’ll go easy on you… maybe.”

Her eyes blazed.

“You want surrender?” she whispered.

And then—in front of everyone—she arched up and bit his collarbone.

Azriel made a sound that could only be described as a choked growl, his wings flaring just a bit, shadows suddenly swirling like a storm.

Mor shrieked. “OH MY GODS.”

Cassian threw the blanket over his entire head. “I’M DEAD. BURY ME WITH HONOR.”

Lucien stood up and announced, “I’m going to go walk into the Sidra and never come back.”

Elain, softly: “I didn’t even know Fae could blush that much.”

Amren just stood, hands on her hips, and said, “Someone bring the child. Let him see what he must never become.”

Azriel looked like he was this close to losing every last shred of composure. His fingers curled around Y/N’s hips, grip possessive, eyes glowing faintly gold in the low light.

Y/N’s voice was a purr now, dangerous and smug. “Still think I’m the one surrendering?”

Azriel blinked down at her—and then, in the most unbothered voice possible, purred back:

“I’m letting you win.”

Y/N howled in rage and launched the pillow at his head again.

Mor collapsed in screaming laughter.

Cassian rolled onto his side and yelled into the floor:

“WHEN THEY GET MARRIED WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE.”

Nesta, dry as bone, replied, “Good. Maybe then we’ll have peace.”

And Feyre just reached for the wine bottle with one trembling hand.

“…I need three glasses just to forget tonight even happened.”

Azriel was laughing now—an actual full-on laugh, rare and wicked and infuriatingly attractive, his head tilted back slightly as Y/N shoved at his chest again, huffing like a dragon about to breathe literal star fire.

“You’re not letting me win,” she snapped, trying to sit up—only for him to lean down again and trap her with his body, his smirk infuriatingly close.

“Oh, but I am,” he purred, his voice brushing over her skin like velvet wrapped in shadows. “Letting you think you have the upper hand… while I enjoy the view.”

Y/N’s eyes blazed. “You are unbelievable.”

“And yet…” Azriel hummed, brushing his nose lightly along her jaw, just enough to make her entire soul glitch, “you’re still under me.”

There was a pause.

And then—Y/N’s voice went low and dangerous, her accent cutting through like a blade of silk.

“Fine.”

She grinned slowly.

“Let me show you what I do to people who underestimate me.”

Everyone in the room simultaneously—

“OH MY GODS.”

Cassian, muffled under his blanket: “SHE’S GONNA DOM HIM I KNEW IT—”

Feyre was openly drinking from the wine bottle now. “Rhys, portal me to Hewn City. I’d rather deal with Keir.”

Rhys, wide-eyed, whispered, “They’re worse than us.”

Mor was gone, rolling off the couch, clutching her ribs. “I can’t. I can’t—this is the best mating bond I’ve ever witnessed—how are they not combusting?!”

Nesta gave a sharp nod. “I give them ten minutes before they disappear upstairs.”

“Five,” Amren said flatly. “Three if he says anything else in that voice.”

Lucien had left the room. Vanished. There was no trace of him. Smart man.

Azriel’s shadows coiled tighter around Y/N’s waist, amused and pleased, while she leaned up again and whispered something in his ear—inaudible to the others, but it made his breath hitch, his hands tighten around her hips, his wings flex like he was very suddenly and urgently remembering he had a mate, and that she was his.

Cassian peeked out from under his blanket. “Did she just—did she say something or—did his soul just exit his body?”

Azriel was still for a heartbeat. Two.

Then he stood.

Effortlessly. With Y/N still in his arms.

She let out a very pleased, smug hum, arms twining around his neck, chin perched on his shoulder.

“Don’t wait up,” she said sweetly over his shoulder.

Cassian dramatically fell back onto the rug. “THEY’RE LEAVING. THEY’RE DOING THE THING. ABANDON SHIP.”

Rhys, cradling a glass of wine now, muttered, “I am the High Lord. I should be able to kick people out of my house.”

“Should being the key word,” Feyre muttered, pouring herself another glass and handing one to Nesta.

Amren raised her empty glass. “May the walls stay standing.”

“Unlikely,” Mor replied, still giggling. “But we’ll have fun guessing what breaks first.”

And with that, Azriel and Y/N disappeared up the stairs, shadows curling behind them like curtains closing on a performance that had left the audience in awe, horror, and unholy amounts of secondhand arousal.

[illyrianshadow]

Flirting in the Dark

Summary: Cassian convinces you to help him retrieve an item from his brother’s room. It doesn't quite go as you had planned.

Warnings: none really, slightly suggestive comments and a hint of smut if you squint (the tiniest hint). Just bat boys being silly.

A/N: Just something a little bit light hearted. I wrote this in one go after waking up this morning as I needed to get it out of my head. Enjoy the silliness. Comments very welcome I love to hear your thoughts.

Edit: you ask and you shall receive, part 2 here x

————— 

Cassian looks at you with a familiar hint of mischief in his eyes. 

“Come on sweetheart. Light of my life. The most beautiful female in all of Prythian.” 

You roll your eyes at his words, a small smile on your lips. You continue making your breakfast, trying to manoeuvre around him as he’s trying to block your path. 

“Your flattery doesn’t work on me Cass. Also you forget I have known you for way too long to go along with any of your schemes.” 

And you have. Being childhood friends you have been there through all of his terribly planned out pranks and plots. 

He sighs but by the look in his eyes you can tell he isn’t going to give up anytime soon. 

“You don’t understand, I NEED that dagger. It’s technically mine anyway, Az stole it from me. I just need you to distract him for a little bit while I go into his room and grab it. I’ll be stealthy, I promise. I’ll go in through the window. No harm done.” 

You don’t mean to but you start laughing and you snort at the vision of a 200 pound Illyrian trying to stealthily push himself through a window. 

You grab your cup of tea and lean against the counter. 

“Stealthy? Cass, I love you but being stealthy is not really your vibe. You’re better off leaving that to the professional spies, like Az.” 

His eyes light up at your words, and you can see some unspoken plan forming in his head. He claps his hands together. You immediately regret everything you’ve just said. 

“Or like you! That’s it, change of plan. I’ll go distract Az, you sneak in through the window to get the dagger.“ He looks at you with pleading eyes, pouting. 

The Lord of Bloodshed, looking at you like a stroppy child that won’t stop until he gets his way. 

You groan. “I did not become a trained spy for this court to aid you in your stupid pranks, you overgrown bat.” but you’re caving, and you know Cassian can tell. 

“I’ll take you out for dinner, my treat. Anywhere you want. And I’ll wash your dishes for a whole month.” 

You roll your eyes, taking a small sip from your tea as if you need to think about it for a minute. You don’t. And Cassian knows it too. 

“Come on, I know you want to.” 

You sigh. “Fine, but I pick somewhere expensive AND you buy my outfit.” 

He looks at you with a big grin on his face. “Done.” 

————— 

This is stupid. Utterly ridiculous. You swear softly to yourself as you look from the little balcony you are standing on to the window of Azriel’s room on the left. 

Ever the gentleman he had traded rooms with you a while ago, giving you the one with the balcony and moving into the smaller one without himself. 

Which meant getting in through his window was going to be a lot more challenging than you had considered. 

Thank the mother he had left it open. 

————— 

After an embarrassing struggle with the window and a small freakout about heights, you’ve made it into Azriel's bedroom. 

Your courage in your little mission wavers as you look at the collection of daggers displayed on a big table against one of the walls. Cassian had described the one you are looking for to you in great detail but looking at the overwhelming amount of weapons, this is going to be a challenge. 

The Spymaster is a grade A hoarder. Perfect. 

You make a system in your head as you start looking, getting so wrapped up in the task at hand that you don’t notice the small shadows slipping in through the crack under the door. 

You’re a good spy, but this ridiculous search has made you leave your guard down. Also Azriel is the one that trained you. It’s a lost cause to begin with. 

Then out of nowhere the room goes dark. A soft curse leaves your lips as you try to look around for a way to escape. It’s no use. You’ve been caught. 

Well, that didn’t last long. You should’ve known, Cassian is a terrible liar.

You suddenly feel a presence behind you, lips hovering right over your ear. You shiver at the feeling. “Looking for something love?” 

Azriel moves closer, wrapping one of his arms around your waist as he presses you against him to keep you in place. There’s no making a quick escape now. 

Not that you could get away anyway with the room being as dark as it is. 

Your breath hitches at the pet name and you lean back slightly, savouring the feeling of Azriel’s strong chest pressed against your back. 

“Just admiring your collection.” you reply casually, knowing damn well that Azriel can see right through you. 

“Is that so?” he whispers back, lips touching the shell of your ear before moving down to the spot in your neck he knows drives you crazy. 

This isn’t new territory for the two of you, but there is usually a lot more alcohol involved. 

“Then why did I just get dragged out of my room by Cassian pretending to have a very important, non-existent laundry crisis he needed my help with?” 

You really should’ve given the general some pointers. A laundry crisis, really? Why did you agree to help him again?

He spins the two of you around and before you realise what is happening you are pressed against the wall on the other side of the room, Azriel hovering over you. 

The darkness has cleared slightly. 

“What is he looking for?” He asks, staring into your eyes with an intensity that makes your knees feel weak. 

“Nothing.” You squeak, voice an octave higher than it should be. 

His scent is overwhelming your senses and it’s becoming more and more difficult to not keep staring at his lips. 

He smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. 

He moves even closer, lips hovering over your own, almost touching. “I don’t believe you.” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath while trying to block out the male in front of you. His body presses even closer to your own and his lips find their way to your ear again. “If you tell me I’ll reward you.” 

You shiver as you feel heat begin to pool in your core. 

“I’ve been trained never to reveal my secrets on a mission.” you reply, voice surprisingly steady considering your current state. 

“Since it was me that trained you I think it’s okay to make an exception.” Azriel mumbles, as his lips trace the outline of your jaw. 

One of his hands starts moving up your side, making small circles up towards your breast. He stops the movement just underneath and rests his hand there. Tease. 

He pulls his lips away from their position on your jaw to look into your eyes again. His pupils are blown and you can tell it’s taking him a lot of strength to not just devour you then and there. 

You smirk. “You okay there Shadowsinger?” 

“Never better.” his voice comes out rough. 

You can’t take this any longer. 

“He wants the dagger you stole from him.” you mumble as you move one of your hands to trace the outline of his wing. He hisses in response, pressing a knee between your legs to push them apart so he can settle in between them. 

“Does he now?” he grumbles. “I’ll have you know he lost that dagger in a bet, fair and square. I didn’t steal anything. It’s not my fault he’s such a sore loser.” 

He presses against you and the feeling of his evident arousal makes your cheeks flush. His hand starts moving again, slowly tracing the outline of your breast before softly grazing your nipple. You let out a small whine. 

Your eyes find Azriel’s again and you are about to crash your lips to his when you hear a loud knock on the outside of his door. 

“LET ME IN, I’M TAKING MY DAGGER BACK.” It seems like Cassian is getting desperate and has decided to resort to his favourite way of getting what he wants, violence. 

Azriel presses his lips to yours and slowly bites down on your bottom lip. “Don’t go anywhere, we aren’t finished.” he whispers into your mouth. Then he steps away from you and light floods the room again. 

Azriel is going to kill his brother.