I’ll write for pretty much anyone, as long as I’ve read the book or watched the show/movie, so if they aren’t listed hit me up anyways and I’ll see what I can do :)
current work in progresses ...
Starfall Ranch AU Series - taking requests
Disclaimer: I write because I enjoy it. I am in grad school so I don’t always have the time. When I have time to write, I write what I want to in that moment. Pls don’t make comments about me being too slow, it makes me not want to write at all.
Eris x Fem!Reader (I am open to writing more part twos with Lucien, Azriel, etc etc so just let me know!)
Part one // Part two: Cassian //Masterlist
You pry your eyes open, your body feeling completely rested for the first time in months. Your muddled dreamy thoughts shift as you realize you hadn’t woken up to your daughter and son jumping on your bed or running into your room screaming about not wanting to share their toys.
You sit upright and glance around the room, raising an eyebrow as you realize you don’t hear them anywhere. You slip out of bed and throw on a robe as you walk hurriedly into the living space that connected your room with your twin's shared bedroom.
It was pristine, not a toy or pillow out of place. You cross the living room and peek into the room wondering if they were still asleep. Their beds empty, the blankets thrown back as if they were in a rush to get out.
A sense of dread creeps down your spine, you doubted that the General of the Autumn Court and the heir to the Autumn Court would let anything happen to you or your kids that he begrudgingly fell in love with five years ago.
You move to the balcony, pushing open the door and shivering at the brisk autumn chill. You can’t help the smile as you move to the edge of the balcony and spot Eris out in the courtyard raking leaves into a pile while your two kids jump up and down excitedly.
Eris steps away from the pile and looks over at the twins, he nods at them and then runs and launches themselves into the leaves. You laugh at the scene which earns the attention of Eris. He glances up at the balcony as if he could feel your presence.
“Next time you decide to kidnap my kids, I’d appreciate your asking first,” you call out to him.
He grins, “I thought you’d appreciate sleeping in, since you’ve been so crabby lately,” he says with a mischievous smile. You roll your eyes and move to walk back into your room, “Are you coming down or are we going to have to bring the leaves to you?”
“Keep those leaves out of my living room. Those little menaces already make a mess as it is,” you reply, opening the door. You glance back down at him, biting back a grin, “I’ll be done in a second. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
You move back into your room, quickly changing into some warmer clothes. Your mind drifting back to all those years ago when you showed up to Autumn Court alone and scared.
After you had been abandoned by your mate, left pregnant and alone, you had begged Rhysand to send you away. Somewhere where you wouldn’t be trapped in the house you had built with Azriel, surrounded by dreams that would never become memories.
Rhysand has reluctantly told you about how they needed an ambassador in Autumn Court and you had jumped at the opportunity. Eris hadn’t taken to you at first, barely glancing in your direction when you were introduced during a meeting.
You had even overheard him talking to one of his friends later that night. “They really sent me a pregnant ambassador? Am I supposed to be taking in all the different courts scraps?”
You shake your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips as you finish changing into your clothes. The memory of those early days in Autumn Court, full of uncertainty and isolation, feels like it belongs to a different lifetime now. Back then, you couldn’t have imagined how much things would change—not just for you, but for everyone involved.
You take a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the present as you glance at your reflection in the mirror. Your life had taken unexpected turns, but you wouldn't change a thing. Well, maybe you'd change Eris’ initial reaction to you back then—though you’ve certainly made him regret those first impressions in the years since.
You finally exit the room and head toward the stairs leading down to the courtyard. The sun is just starting to peek through the autumn trees, casting long shadows across the leaves that are still caught in the air from Eris’ playful antics with the twins. The sight warms you in a way that words can't quite capture.
When you reach the bottom of the stairs, your kids are still happily jumping around in the pile of leaves, their shrill laughter making your heart swell with affection. Eris is standing off to the side, watching them with a fond smile on his face. Despite his gruff exterior and initial resistance, he’s grown into something of a softie when it comes to your family.
You approach, crossing the courtyard with slow, deliberate steps as you try not to step on any of the fallen leaves, already imagining the mess you'll be cleaning up later. Eris sees you and immediately raises an eyebrow.
“Well, look who decided to join us,” he teases, his voice full of playful warmth.
Your eyes flick toward the twins as they tumble into the pile of leaves, giggling as they disappear beneath the colorful mound. The sight makes you laugh, despite your best efforts to stay composed.
Eris watches you with a look that’s almost unreadable, but there's a softness there—something that’s become more and more apparent as time has passed. The bond between the two of you has deepened in ways you never expected, and though the road here had been rocky, it was one you’d never want to travel without him by your side.
“I’m sure the General of the Autumn Court has more important matters to tend to than babysitting,” you say, glancing at him over your shoulder.
His grin widens at your words, the mischief in his eyes unmistakable. “I’ve got all the time in the world for you and the little ones. Besides, who else is going to show them how to make the perfect leaf pile?”
You raise an eyebrow, a challenge forming in your mind. “And you think you can teach them? You’re the one who probably spends more time with paperwork than playing in the leaves.”
Eris chuckles, the sound rich and full of life. “Guess we’ll see who’s better at leaf-related activities.”
You shake your head, unable to hide your smile any longer. “You’re impossible, Eris.”
He only shrugs, the faintest smirk curling at the corner of his lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” The words linger in the air, but he doesn’t let you dwell on them for long. His attention shifts, and without warning, he pulls your gaze away from the twins to him, his voice lowering slightly, a subtle edge to it. “Some of your old Night Court friends will be stopping by.”
The mention of them makes your pulse quicken, a knot tightening in your stomach. “Really? Why?” The question escapes before you can stop it, your mind racing with possibilities. You’ve kept in touch, of course—Cassian always requesting updates on you and the kids, sending his own news about Nesta and their growing family.
“Who?” The question is out before you can hold it back.
Eris doesn’t immediately answer, his gaze flicking to the horizon with a casual shrug. “Rhysand wants to discuss something with me.” He pauses, his expression darkening for a moment, before continuing with a wry grin. “But he’s sending one of his lap dogs…” He glances down at you, his lips twitching with something dangerously close to a smile. “…You excluded, of course.”
A flicker of irritation rises in your chest, and you shove him lightly, though the motion is half-hearted. Before you can move away, Eris’s grip tightens around your wrists, pulling you closer. His fingers are warm, his presence overwhelming in ways that make your heart stutter, but your nerves flare up at the undercurrent of something unspoken. Something old.
You swallow, trying to maintain some control over the situation. “Do you know who’s coming?” you ask again, your voice far steadier than you feel.
Eris’s brow furrows at the tremor in your tone, but he doesn't answer right away, his attention now distracted by something in the distance. “They should be here any—”
You don’t need him to finish. A sickening wave crashes through you, the bond you’d buried so long ago surging to life with terrifying force. It calls to you, a presence you know too well, one you’ve tried so hard to forget. Azriel.
Your heart lurches in your chest, the sudden intensity of the bond almost too much to bear. You spin toward the entrance of the courtyard, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes lock with his across the distance.
Azriel stands at the edge of the courtyard, his piercing gaze locked onto yours with a fire that makes your blood run cold. For the briefest moment, it’s just the two of you. But then his gaze drops to where Eris still holds your wrist, his fingers lightly curling around you, pulling you closer. His eyes narrow, a flicker of confusion and something darker flashing in them.
Your stomach drops.
And then, just as quickly, you see her. Elain, standing beside Azriel, a small, knowing smile curling at the corner of her lips as she reaches for Azriel’s hand, as if to claim what she knows is hers. You feel the sting of it, the bitter reminder of everything you’ve lost, and everything you could never have.
You tense, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. Eris feels it too, the sudden change in your energy. His hand tightens around your wrist, his voice low and concerned. “What’s wrong?” His words break through the fog of your thoughts. “What’s going on?”
You force yourself to look at him, but your heart isn’t in it. “You need to distract them. I need to-, we need to-,”
The words fall from your lips, desperate, raw. But you can’t explain. You don’t have time to. Because the shrill laughter of your children suddenly cuts through the tension like a knife, their high-pitched squeals of joy ringing in the air.
You turn, your heart stopping in your chest as your eyes fall on them—your children, the two little people who mean more to you than anything else in this world.
And their faces.
Dark hair, dark eyes—his eyes.
Azriel’s eyes.
The realization hits him like a tidal wave. You see it in the way his body stiffens, his expression darkening as the truth settles into his bones. He’s staring at your twins, the little ones he’s never met but knows exactly who they are.
The bond that had once been so raw, so suffocating, flares up violently between the two of you. You don’t need words; the connection says everything. They’re mine. They’re his.
Behind you, you hear Eris asking, his voice edged with panic, “Why do you need to leave?” But you can’t answer him, can’t form a single coherent thought. All you can do is watch, helpless, as your world falls apart in front of you.
Azriel’s eyes flick to you one last time, and in that look, there’s nothing left but a profound sorrow, the weight of everything unspoken between you both hanging in the air, suffocating.
And then, just like that, your whole world crumbles
Azriel’s steps are slow but deliberate, his eyes locked on you, and with each step, the knot in your chest tightens. He glances between you and the twins—each look like a blade, each one digging deeper into the silent realization that’s crashing over him. The weight of his gaze presses down on you, and despite everything, you refuse to look away. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much this hurts.
Eris, however, feels the shift in the air before you do. He tenses, his grip on your wrist tightening, a flicker of something possessive in his touch. His body subtly shifts to stand in front of you, positioning himself as a silent shield between you and the storm that’s building in the air.
“Azriel,” Eris says, his voice low but firm, cutting through the growing tension. “Is there something you need to say?”
Azriel doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes still fixed on you. The space between the two of you feels impossibly wide—full of history, regret, and an ocean of unsaid words. It’s like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for what comes next. Finally, after an eternity of silence, Azriel takes a step forward, his voice thick with emotion as he speaks your name—your full name, one that reverberates with the rawness of the past.
It cuts through you like a blade.
Your heart stutters at the sound of it. You’d tried to bury the bond, tried to sever everything between you, but now it surges to life, overwhelming and suffocating. He’s here. He’s standing in front of you, and he didn’t know.
His eyes are frantic, desperate, flickering between you and the twins, and it hits him all at once—their dark hair, their identical faces. The recognition is instantaneous, but it’s followed by an eruption of rage and betrayal that you didn’t expect.
“I didn’t…” Azriel’s voice cracks, raw with anguish. “I didn’t know.”
You swallow hard, fighting the rising fury that threatens to consume you. “You didn’t know?” you repeat, your voice trembling with a bitter mixture of anger and heartbreak. “You didn’t know I was pregnant? You didn’t know you left me alone?” The words taste like acid, burning your throat as you push them out. “You abandoned me, Azriel. You walked away. You left me with nothing but your absence.”
His breath catches, his chest tightening as if your words physically wound him, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t reach for you, doesn’t close the distance. His gaze remains locked on the twins, on the children that should’ve been his—your children.
But that’s when something in you breaks. The dam that’s been holding back all the pain, all the betrayal, shatters.
“You don’t get to come back into my life like nothing happened,” you snap, the years of hurt spilling over. “You don’t get to show up here and pretend like everything you put me through doesn’t matter. Like you didn’t leave me alone, Azriel, with nothing but your absence to hold on to.”
Your words strike him, and you see his jaw clench, the flicker of guilt and something darker flashing across his features. But the intensity in his gaze tells you that it’s not just guilt you’re seeing. It’s rage too—rage at the betrayal, rage at the years lost.
Eris, sensing the shift, steps forward, moving in close to you, his hand settling firmly on your shoulder in a protective gesture. He looks at Azriel with a hard, assessing gaze, and you know—he sees the storm that’s gathering inside Azriel. But Eris is having none of it.
“She’s right,” Eris cuts in, his voice sharp with venom. “You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you didn’t break her. Like you didn’t leave her to raise your kids on her own. You abandoned her, Azriel. You.”
Azriel’s eyes snap to Eris, and for a second, the air between them crackles with tension, like the world is holding its breath. You almost expect them to clash, but instead, it’s Azriel who takes a step back, his fists clenched at his sides, his breath coming out in heavy, sharp exhales. The look in his eyes is no longer just guilt, but anger.
He turns back to you, his gaze softer now, tinged with something darker—something that twists inside you.
“I know what I did. I know what I didn’t do,” Azriel admits, his voice thick with regret. But there’s a raw edge to it that does nothing to lessen the ache in your chest. “But I never meant to leave you like that. I didn’t know.”
You stare at him, disbelief curdling in your stomach. He didn’t know? Was that his excuse?
Eris steps closer, his tall form casting a shadow over Azriel as he steps between the two of you, positioning himself in front of you, protecting you from whatever Azriel might try to say next. “Then why the hell did you leave her, huh?” Eris spits, his voice cold, unforgiving. “Why did you leave her to do this alone? To raise your children without you? She didn’t deserve that. You have no right to come here and ask for forgiveness after everything you put her through.”
Azriel flinches under Eris’s words, his gaze shifting from you to Eris, but there’s no escaping the truth in them. His eyes linger on you briefly—guilt, shame, and pain flashing across his face. But it’s too late. You’ve already learned to live without him. You’ve learned to survive. And no amount of apology can change that.
“I was weak,” Azriel mutters, the words thick with self-loathing. “I couldn’t be what you needed back then. I couldn’t—” He stops himself, and you can see him struggling, trying to find the words, but nothing seems to make it past his lips. “I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make it right. Trying to make it right for them.”
He glances toward the twins, their small faces wide with confusion as they peer around the corner at the scene unfolding. The moment is too much for you. The pain of the past, of everything you had to endure alone, surges through you once more.
“I don’t want your apologies,” you say, your voice cutting through the space between you, cold and sharp. “I’ve lived without you, Azriel. I’ve learned how to be strong without you. Without your presence. And I don’t need you to fix that now.”
Eris shifts behind you, his grip firm on your shoulder as if grounding you, offering you support in the only way he knows how. “She’s not going to do this alone again, Azriel,” he warns, his voice laced with steel. “You don’t get to come here, expecting to undo the damage you caused. Not when you left her. Not when you walked away from your family. You lost that right the moment you turned your back on her.”
Azriel’s gaze hardens as he turns toward Eris, his anger flaring, but there’s no fight in him. No defense. He’s already lost this battle. He knows it.
“I will make it right,” Azriel says, the words strained, but they hold no weight. Not yet. His eyes flicker to the twins, and something softer passes through his expression, but it’s not enough to change the past. “Please,” he breathes, desperation edging into his voice, “I just need you to let me try.”
You stare at him, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, hurt, and something you refuse to acknowledge. The weight of his words presses down on you, but you can’t answer—not yet. Because in that moment, you realize something.
You’ve moved on. You’ve built something without him. And no matter how much his words hurt, no matter how much the bond calls to you, you will not let him come back and ruin the life you’ve made.
Eris is here. And he has been since the beginning.
You’ve moved on. You’ve built something without him.
And you’ll be damned if you let him come back and ruin that now.
The evening drifts in slowly, a chill creeping through the open balcony doors as the sun sinks behind the trees, leaving the courtyard bathed in an amber glow. The weight of the day lingers in the air, but the tension has faded into something quieter, though no less heavy. You’ve kept yourself busy, moving through the motions of dinner with the children and playing the part of the unbothered mother—but every time your thoughts drift to Azriel, the sting in your chest returns. The memory of his eyes, full of regret and guilt, has haunted you all evening.
You thought you could handle this—his sudden return, his claim on your children, the past resurfacing in ways you couldn’t control. But you were wrong.
There’s a soft knock on your door. It’s a quiet sound, barely a whisper against the night, but you know who it is. You don’t need to ask. You feel him there, his presence steady, familiar, the only thing grounding you at this moment.
“Come in,” you call softly, your voice carrying a hint of exhaustion you haven’t been able to shake all evening.
The door opens, and Eris steps inside, his dark eyes searching the room before landing on you. His presence fills the space like the scent of pine and autumn leaves—soothing, comforting, though you know that the conversation you’re about to have isn’t going to be easy.
“Hey,” he says quietly, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He’s dressed casually, the crisp autumn air evident in the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looks tired, but it’s a tiredness that comes with the burden of having to take care of things. And tonight, it’s clear that there’s something weighing on him.
You look up from where you’re sitting by the window, the twins’ little drawings scattered across the table beside you. You’ve been staring at the papers, but you haven't truly seen them. “Hey,” you reply, offering him a faint smile. It’s not much, but it’s the best you can do right now.
Eris hesitates for a moment, but then crosses the room to where you sit, his movements purposeful but measured. He stands in front of you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. For a moment, you think he might say something about what happened earlier—about Azriel or the kids—but instead, he simply reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your skin.
You swallow, the act grounding you. It feels nice, comforting in a way that eases the tightness in your chest. His presence has always had that effect on you—steady, reliable, even when your world is spinning out of control.
“How are you holding up?” Eris asks softly, his voice low and calm, like he’s already anticipating that the answer won’t be simple.
You give a small shrug, trying to brush off the weight of everything that’s happened. “I’m okay. I just…” You pause, not sure what to say. “It’s a lot to process, you know? And I didn’t expect him—Azriel—to show up like that.” You lean back against the cushion of the chair, a sigh escaping your lips before you can stop it. “It just feels like everything's unraveling.”
Eris nods, his eyes softening as he watches you, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I understand. And I’m sorry you’re having to deal with this. With him. But I’m here,” he adds, his voice steady but firm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The sincerity in his words settles over you like a warm blanket. The familiar ache in your chest eases a little. You’d come to rely on him in ways you hadn’t expected, ways you never planned to. But now, in the quiet of the room, it’s hard to imagine your life without him.
“I know,” you murmur, meeting his eyes. The soft touch on your face still lingers in your mind. “I appreciate you, Eris. More than you know.”
His lips quirk up slightly, though the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He moves to sit beside you, his long frame sliding into the chair next to yours, close but not quite touching. The space between you two feels deliberate, but the connection between you is undeniable.
For a long moment, neither of you says anything, the silence comfortable for once. It’s only when the quiet feels like it’s stretched a little too long that Eris speaks again, his voice quieter, heavier with something unspoken.
“I wrote to Rhysand,” he says, his tone measured. “Told him that if they want to continue the alliance, he better make it clear that I never want Elain or Azriel to step foot in my court again.”
You turn to him, surprised. “You what?” you ask, your voice almost a whisper.
“I’ve had enough of their interference,” he says, his eyes steady on yours. “I won’t let them disrespect you, not after everything you’ve been through. Not after everything they’ve put you through.” His jaw clenches as he says the last part, and there’s a fire in his eyes that you don’t often see. “Azriel may think he has a right to show up, but he doesn’t. And Elain…” His voice tightens. “She has no place here. Not with you. Not with us.”
You stare at him for a long moment, your heart swelling with something deep and unexpected. There’s a strength in his words, a fierceness that makes you realize just how much he’s come to care for you, how much he’s willing to protect you—even if it means standing against the very people who once meant so much to you.
“You don’t have to do that, Eris,” you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want you to fight my battles for me.”
He looks at you then, his expression softening. “It’s not about fighting your battles,” he says, his voice gentle but unwavering. “It’s about standing by your side, making sure you’re not alone in this. You deserve peace. You deserve to feel safe, to feel like you can choose what happens next.”
You swallow, the lump in your throat thickening as you gaze at him. There’s a part of you that wants to protest, that wants to tell him that you’re capable of handling things on your own. But in that moment, you realize something.
You don’t have to do everything alone anymore.
And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself lean into that truth.
You nod slowly, unable to form the words you want to say, but your eyes speak volumes. You can’t deny the quiet warmth that fills you when he’s near, the comfort of knowing he’s someone who truly has your back, no matter what.
Eris leans in, his fingers gently brushing yours, his touch offering a silent promise. "We’ll get through this. Together."
And for the first time in a long time, you believe him.
Cassian x Fem!Reader (I am open to writing more part twos with Eris, Lucien, Azriel, etc etc so just let me know!)
Part one // Part Two: Eris // Masterlist
Your eyes flicker up to glance through the kitchen window, your heart swelling as you hear your daughter's delighted squeals of laughter. Cassian is chasing her across the yard, his wings tucked against his back as he ducks and weaves, trying to catch her. Your daughter darts and dodges with all the energy of a four-year-old, her giggles echoing through the air like music.
You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you as you watch Cassian scoop her up, lifting her high into the air as she shrieks with joy. It’s moments like these—moments of sheer happiness—that remind you just how far you’ve come.
Four years ago, your life had been shrouded in darkness. Pregnant, abandoned by your mate, struggling with the crushing weight of postpartum depression and the raw agony of being left alone, you never thought you’d see a day like this. You never thought there would be laughter in your home again, not after Azriel had left you. But then Cassian came into your life. It started as a quiet, steady presence. The Illyrian warrior who showed up with hot meals when you could barely get out of bed, who brought you tonics and whispered comforting words when your heart felt like it was breaking.
Cassian was there in every way Azriel never was. And over time, you let him in. At first, it was just friendship—mutual understanding. Nesta had left to train other females in camps, eventually leading to a split between the two of them. Deciding they were better off as friends.
As the months turned into years, that bond deepened. It was two years after Cassian and Nesta had broken up that he asked you to dinner. It wasn’t until the fifth date Cassian kissed you for the first time, it was as if the world tilted on its axis. It was the kiss you didn’t expect, but the one you needed.
You glance down at the ring on your finger, the sunlight catching it with a gleam. Some might call it quick—only a year of dating before Cassian proposed. But for you, it felt right. The cauldron had given you a mate in Azriel, but the love you shared with Cassian was forged not by fate, but by choice. And that made all the difference.
You look back out the window, where Cassian is teaching your daughter to wield a wooden sword, her small body mimicking his moves with determination. She lunges and lands a hit on the makeshift dummy, and her laughter fills the air once more. You can feel the soft pull in your chest, the peaceful certainty that your life is finally, truly yours.
The knock on the front door slices through the moment, and your heart stutters, the familiar pull in your chest making your stomach tighten. You glance toward the door, your breath catching in your throat. You hadn’t been expecting anyone—maybe Feyre dropping off Nyx—but the sensation that grips you is unmistakable. It's him.
“Come in!” you call out, but your voice feels hollow, as if something inside you already knows who’s standing there. You turn, drying your hands on a dishrag with a calmness you don’t feel.
When you see him, your breath catches.
Azriel.
He fills the doorway, his towering frame casting a long shadow across your kitchen, his wings dark and massive behind him. For a heartbeat, you almost believe it’s a dream. The man who was once your mate, the man who tore your world apart, stands in your home again, his presence suffocating the space you’ve carefully built in his absence.
"Azriel," you say, your voice an unsteady mix of surprise and anger, and you quickly cross your arms over your chest, defensive, protective. He doesn’t belong here anymore.
He takes a hesitant step forward, his gaze flicking down to your hand, and his eyes darken as they land on the ring. The bond flares between you, raw and aching, like a rope that’s been pulled taut, and the tug in your chest is almost painful.
“Feyre mentioned you were seeing someone,” Azriel says, his voice strained. His gaze drops to your ring again, the words heavy with something that sounds like disbelief. “She didn’t tell me it was this serious.”
The bitterness in your chest rises like bile. You scoff, dropping the dish rag on the counter and letting your arms fall to your sides. “So you came all this way to check if I’m really with someone else? What right do you have, Azriel?” Your words are sharp, cutting through the air with a coldness you hadn’t intended but can’t stop. You watch as his eyes flick back to yours, still haunted by that bond you never wanted, never asked for.
“No,” Azriel’s voice falters, and for the first time since you’ve known him, you see the cracks in his usual confidence. He takes a step forward, and you take an instinctive step back, your back meeting the edge of the sink. He pauses, then shifts his weight, clearly unsure of what to do with the distance between you.
“I came here to see you,” he says, almost painfully, as if the words are hard to force out of his throat.
You narrow your eyes, feeling a storm build inside you, the tension in your chest thickening with each passing second. "Aren’t you supposed to be in Dawn Court with Elain?" The words slip out, too quick, too sharp.
“Day,” he says.
You narrow your eyes at him. “Excuse me?” you ask.
He swallows, “We were- uh, I was in Day Court with Elain. I am not anymore,” he stutters out in response.
You turn to him fully now, your fists clenching at your sides. "What do you mean? Not anymore?" The words come out louder than you intend, but you can’t hold them back. Your pulse is racing as you try to understand, as you piece together the puzzle of his return.
Azriel shifts his weight between his feet, then steps toward you, reaching a hand out. You step back again, your heart pounding, the space between you growing. The bond tugs harder, pulling at the remnants of something you buried long ago.
“I made a mistake,” he admits, his voice almost raw, like he's forcing the words out through a broken throat.
Your chest tightens painfully, and all you can feel is the weight of years of silence, of abandonment. Your mind races with everything you wanted to say to him—the things you wanted him to hear, to feel. “It took you four years to realize that? After everything, you come to me now?” you snap, the words bitter on your tongue.
Azriel flinches at the accusation, his gaze dropping for a moment, as if the sting of your words cuts deeper than any blade could. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.
"I knew the moment I stepped into Day Court with Elain," he says, his voice softer now, full of regret. "I wasn’t clear-headed when I was here. But once I left... once I saw everything from a distance, it all became clear. I want to come back."
You laugh—a bitter, harsh sound that escapes before you can stop it. “And you think you can just walk back into my life after all this time?” Your voice rises, your anger now a storm you can’t contain. “You think you can come in here and take what you left behind like it’s nothing?”
“I made a promise to her,” he says quietly, stepping closer again, but you raise a hand, halting him.
“You made a promise to me first,” you bite out, your words sharp, cutting. “But you didn’t seem to have any trouble breaking that, did you?”
The shadows around Azriel flicker and retreat, as if they don’t even want to be involved in this conversation. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat.
“Leave.” You say it low, but it rings with finality. “I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you here.”
Azriel stays rooted to the spot, his eyes searching yours for something you’re no longer willing to give. "We built this house together," he says, his voice tight with emotion. "It’s as much mine as it is yours."
The rage that builds inside you is immediate, overwhelming. "You left me in this house, Azriel. Alone. Do you hear me?" you hiss. “And you think you have any claim here? I’m sure Rhysand would agree with me.”
Azriel's eyes flash with something close to guilt, but before he can respond, the back door bursts open. Cassian strides in, his eyes locking onto Azriel the moment he senses him. The warmth in his expression fades in an instant.
“Azriel.”
Azriel’s eyes flick to Cassian, his face twisting in a sneer. “Cassian? Really?” he spits, voice dripping with disdain. “So this is what you’ve been doing while I’ve been gone? Latching onto my brother?”
You step forward, all the rage in your chest boiling over. "You abandoned me. You left us-me. And now you think you have any right to—"
Cassian steps in before you can finish, his voice cutting through your words like a knife. “Am I mistaken, or were you the one who left your mate for another woman, and then followed her to a new court?”
Azriel’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he glares at Cassian. “Don’t you have a mate?”
Cassian’s wings flare behind him, the room crackling with tension. “Didn’t you?” he snaps, his tone like ice. He steps in between the two of you, protective and unwavering.
But Azriel doesn’t back down. His eyes flicker toward the back door, and before anyone can stop
You share a glance with Cassian, a silent understanding passing between you. You had spoken about what would happen if Azriel came back but the conversation never went far, neither of your expected him to return. To leave Elain.
It had been years since you even considered this moment. You never thought he'd come back—not after everything. But here he is.
You take a slow, measured breath, bracing yourself for what’s to come. You step outside, following Azriel, each step feeling like you’re walking into a storm.
The air is thick with tension, and as you emerge into the open, your daughter continues to practice with her wooden sword, her small body moving with clumsy determination. She’s completely oblivious to the storm that’s brewing just a few feet away from her.
Azriel’s eyes, dark and unreadable, follow her movements. He watches with a strange intensity, the gaze of someone who has been robbed of so much. He watches her with that look—the same way he used to look at you when you were still his.
“She’s mine,” Azriel’s voice is low, rough with an emotion you can't quite place, but it’s a truth, a quiet claim he’s making, the weight of it pressing down on you. “I have a daughter.”
You swallow hard, the words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. You feel a pang of guilt, of something deeper you can’t quite untangle. His words hit harder than you expected—he has a daughter, but he hasn’t been here. He hasn’t earned the right to claim her. The bond between you is still there, still tethered in a way you didn’t ask for, and it pulses with a harsh, bitter ache.
“Yes,” you say, and the word tastes like ash. It’s the only truth you can offer, the only thing you owe him.
Azriel’s gaze doesn’t leave her as he asks, his voice thick with something that cuts deep. “Does she know about me?”
It’s a question that stabs through the fragile walls you’ve built around your heart. You feel his pain through the bond—raw and jagged—and for a moment, you’re consumed by the intensity of it. Regret. Longing. Despair. It’s a weight you never expected to bear for him, but it’s there, wrapped up in the fibers of your soul.
Cassian gives your hand a gentle squeeze before stepping forward, his movements effortless as he walks toward your daughter. “Cassie!” she squeals in delight, charging at him with the sword. Cassian sidesteps her with ease and lifts her into the air, twirling her around as she bursts into laughter.
Azriel doesn’t seem to notice the joy, his eyes still fixed on her, but it’s clear he’s struggling to reconcile the picture in front of him with the one he’s missed.
You turn to face him, “Yes,” you answer, keeping your voice steady. “She knows her dad is an Illyrian who was away in another court for business. I never spoke poorly of you, but…” Your voice falters, but you force it to steady. “She stopped asking about you a while ago. She stopped asking if you were coming to her birthday. She stopped wondering when you’d visit.”
Azriel’s eyes snap to you, the hurt written clearly across his face. “I should be the one teaching her to fight,” he says, his voice tightening, like the admission is a knife. “I should have been there when she took her first step. When she said her first word. I should have been there for everything.”
You feel your chest tighten. The words settle over you like ice. The silence between you stretches, thick and uncomfortable. He’s right—he should have been here. And that truth is a wound you’re not ready to reopen, not for him. You wouldn’t take responsibility for his wrongs.
Your gaze flickers to Cassian, still with your daughter, correcting her stance, guiding her hand as she tries to raise her sword high. She listens intently, her little face determined. And there’s a part of you that can't let go of the hurt. The part of you that remembers the emptiness you felt when Azriel was gone, when he didn’t fight for you, when he chose Elain over your family.
Azriel’s voice is quieter now, regret heavy in his tone as he turns his gaze back to you. “Did you know? Before I left... did you know you were pregnant?”
The question hits you like a punch to the gut. You hadn’t expected it, and for a moment, you freeze, as though the words might choke you. Did you know? He’s asking as though he hasn’t spent the last four years somewhere else—as though you didn’t have to carry that burden alone.
“No,” you say firmly, your voice breaking the silence. “I had symptoms. Mood swings, sickness, no appetite... But honestly, I thought it was just the stress from what was happening between us. How the bond was crumbling. How we were crumbling.”
There’s a long, stretched silence. The weight of the years between you presses down on both of you, the distance too great to bridge in a moment. Finally, Azriel speaks, and his words are so full of pain that they almost break you. “I am sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I missed the life we planned together. I should have been there.”
His shoulders sag under the weight of his words, as if they’re the only thing holding him upright. The regret that pours from him is so deep, so raw, that for a fleeting moment, you almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay steady, forcing yourself not to collapse under the intensity of it all.
“I’m not,” you say quietly, your words laced with the truth that burns in your chest. “I’m not sorry, Azriel. I can’t be. He’s been really good with her. He’s been really good to me, even when we were just friends. He showed up for me. For us.”
Azriel’s face hardens at the words, the sting of your admission reaching his eyes. But he nods, his jaw tight as he swallows the emotion. “Good,” he chokes out. “I’m glad you two have each other. I really am.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, the words too hard to speak. You want to tell him that he doesn’t deserve her. That he didn’t earn the right to be her father. But instead, you take another breath, calm and steady.
“I won’t keep her from you,” you say, your voice firm. “You can come visit. You can get to know her. You can tell her who you are. But she’s smarter than you think. She understands more than you’ll ever realize for a four-year-old. You might have a lot of groveling to do.”
Azriel’s face twitches, the corners of his lips almost curling into something that could be a smile. “She’ll be worth it,” he says, his voice thick with emotion as he walks down the path toward her.
You watch as Cassian kneels beside your daughter, his large hand resting gently on her shoulder. Azriel crouches in front of her, his posture tentative, as though unsure how to bridge the gap that has been formed.
For a long moment, they stand there, the two men who should have been father figures to your daughter, one of them returning, the other ever-present. Your heart twists in your chest as you watch Azriel’s first steps toward her, knowing that this moment, this reunion, will be so much more complicated than either of them can imagine.
Cassian strides toward you, his steps measured, the weight of the moment pressing heavily between you. When he reaches your side, he looks out over the meadow where Azriel is now kneeling, speaking softly to your daughter. But it’s clear that his mind isn’t on Azriel. He looks at you, the question he’s been holding back now escaping in a quiet murmur.
“Do you think he’s serious?”
You don’t immediately respond, your gaze lingering on Azriel’s interaction with your daughter—so careful, so tentative. You glance towards the steady, unwavering presence beside you, the one who’s never gone anywhere.
You half shrug, the uncertainty lingering. “I think if it was just about me, about trying to win me back, no... But for her...” Your words trail off, and the quiet hangs in the air between you. You know Azriel. You know how deeply he feels the weight of the things he’s missed. How he grew up. He would want to show up for her.
Cassian shifts next to you, the tension in his shoulders settling just a fraction as he processes everything. But when he speaks again, his voice is quiet, thoughtful, a little too careful. “I would understand,” he says, his eyes flickering briefly to the ring on your finger, and then back to you, gauging, waiting for your response.
You raise an eyebrow, surprise flashing across your face. You turn to face him fully, taking in his expression, trying to decipher what’s going on in that mind of his. “Understand wanting to know your kid?” you ask, your voice half teasing but with an edge of confusion.
But Cassian shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible, and his gaze drops to the ring on your finger once more. This time, it lingers longer, like he’s trying to see through the physical symbol to the emotions swirling beneath. When he looks back up at you, his eyes are full of something—vulnerability, maybe even a little fear.
“If you wanted to give him another chance,” he says, his voice barely a whisper now. “He is your mate, after all... and I’m just—”
“Cassian.”
You stop him in his tracks, your voice firm but soft, a quiet command. He goes still, his eyes locking with yours, waiting for the words you’re about to say. You reach forward then, your hand finding his, your fingers closing around his with a quiet but resolute grip.
“I love you,” you say, and the words feel like they’re meant to echo through time, a promise that has been forged in every moment you’ve shared. “You would have to pry this ring off my finger,” you continue, your voice unwavering. “I am not giving you up for anyone.”
Cassian’s breath catches, his jaw tightening as you see the weight of your words sink in. But you don’t let go. You can’t let go. Not now. Not ever.
“I didn’t need the Cauldron to choose you for me,” you continue, your eyes never leaving his. “I’ve chosen you. Over and over. Every damn day. I’ll choose you every time.”
The words hang in the air, heavy and warm, like a blanket that shields both of you from the storm swirling outside. You can see the conflict in his eyes—the loyalty, the deep affection for you, the fear of losing you, of not being enough. But you’ve never wavered. Not for him. Not for you.
Slowly, Cassian exhales, the tension in his shoulders softening just a fraction. A flicker of something raw and open crosses his face—gratitude, relief, maybe even a bit of awe. His thumb brushes gently over the back of your hand, a silent promise that he’s not going anywhere, that he understands what you’re saying.
“Good,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I don’t want anyone else.”
You smile, a soft, genuine thing that doesn’t need words to explain. The bond between you both hums with that quiet understanding, stronger than anything the Cauldron could have ever crafted.
You glance back towards Azriel and your daughter, your stomach tightens again. You’ve watched your daughter grow without Azriel, and it’s strange, even painful, to think that the man she will now come to know as her father had abandoned both of you. But the truth is, she had never needed him. She had needed you—and Cassian. He’d been there for every first: every word, every step, every giggle.
"I love you,” you say as you turn to Cassian.
He looks over in surprise. “Not that I don’t love to hear you say it, but is there a reason you’re saying it?” he asks almost teasingly.
You take a slow, steady breath, your eyes lingering on Cassian’s as you struggle to put your emotions into words. The weight of the past few minutes, the presence of Azriel, the unfamiliar tension in the air—it all rushes over you in a surge, but you know this moment is important. For you. For him. For the both of you.
“It’s just—” you swallow, forcing the words past the lump in your throat, “—everything feels so... fragile right now. I don’t know what Azriel expects, or how all of this is going to go, but I need you to know that I love you and that I love our little life together.”
Cassian’s teasing smile fades into something softer, something that reflects the sincerity in your voice. He steps closer, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the skin there with the gentleness you’ve grown so accustomed to. “I know,” he says, his voice low and steady. “I know, sweetheart. I love you too, never doubt that for a second.”
You lean into his touch, closing your eyes. “I don’t know how to do this,” you confess, your throat tight. “How to share her with him. I don’t know how to let her go a little, how to let him be a part of her life again after all this time.”
“You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” Cassian reassures, “It’ll take time. He’ll have to prove himself. And you don’t have to rush any of it, love. Take it at your own pace.”
“I don’t want it to ruin the family we’ve built together,” you say, and it’s the truth.
Cassian nods, understanding in every line of his face. “We’ve built something good, haven’t we?” he asks, his voice full of warmth and a touch of awe.
“We have,” you reply with a soft smile. “A life I never thought I’d have. A family I never thought I’d have.”
He presses his forehead to yours, closing the space between you, his warmth seeping into you like a promise. “I’m not going anywhere. And neither is she.”
You take a steadying breath, letting the peace of his words wash over you. “Thank you,” you whisper, the words heavy with everything you want to say but can’t quite find the courage for. He doesn’t need to hear it all; he knows. He always knows.
Cassian smiles, a smile that’s all tenderness and affection. “You don’t need to thank me for that,” he says softly. “Just keep choosing me. Keep choosing us.”
I passed my big test and finally have some time to write!!
I have a few wips but I am curious if you guys want Angstmas this year. If you do, I’ll need to prep a bit for it so I’d have to start writing….like….now.
Angstmas 2024?
Yes!
Eh skip it this year
Voting ended onNov 2, 2024
If the answer is yes, who would you want to see? Feel free to start sending prompts!!
Based on this story, beat all the other bunheads - this is how the couple met (I am very open to writing more in this world so lmk if you guys are interested)
Hockey!Azriel x Ballet!Reader
masterlist // Azriel fics
You inhale sharply as you step foot into the studio, the floors freshly buffed filling the air with a lemony cleaner smell. You could find a home in any dance studio you stepped foot into but there was something about Velaris University that just felt right. You weren’t sure if it was because of the atmosphere of the city, the memories you had made last year, or because it was the dance studio your mom had attended in college. You pass the excited chattering freshman as you move to the corner where you see some of your friends already beginning to warm up.
Gwyn immediately stands up from where she was stretching to embrace you as Nesta smiles in greeting, you two were roommates and had already spent the weekend catching up. “Did we look that nervous last year?” Gwyn asks as she pulls away from you and nods towards the freshman.
You glance over and chuckle, “I hope not,” you reply, looking away before you could catch the nervous energy. “Any word on what the fall show is going to be?”
Gwyn shakes her head as you sit beside her. “Nope, I even helped teach the summer camps hoping I would hear something but nothing,” she replies deflated.
You're about to reply when the door swings open and your professor walks in. She claps her hands three times, a smile curling on her lips as the room immediately silences. “Welcome, everyone,” she says, before getting straight into introductions and classroom rules. We all sit patiently, the nervous energy building. She smiles, as if she was enjoying keeping everyone in suspense. “I am sure you all are most excited for this final announcement before class begins.”
You grasp Nesta and Gwyns hands, as Sophomores you would still only get a small role but there was still a chance to become an understudy.
“We’re doing something a little different this season, some of you might be disappointed-,” she glances over to where the seniors were sitting. “But, it’s to raise money for charity and I think it would be a great experience for everyone. This years fall recital will be-,”
~*~
“Why’d Coach want us to meet all the way across town?” Cassian asks. Azriel glances over to where Cassian had sprawled himself out on one of the only couches in the lobby, only leaving a small corner for Rhysand to sit. “I mean, what even is this place? Did you know there was more to Velaris University than the ice rink?”
Azriel rolls his eyes. “Don’t let coach hear you say that, then he’ll really know you didn’t attend a single class last year,” he retorts, as he glances over to the lobby door as if that would make their coach appear. He couldn’t help but feel antsy. He should be practicing right now. He had a scholarship and coaches in the NFL who were already reaching out to pull him up to the big leagues.
Cassian grins. “Think I’ll be able to pull it off this year?” he asks.
“If you want to play this year I wouldn’t test it,” Rhysand retorts. “You got benched three games just because coach ‘felt’ like you weren’t attending classes. Man doesn’t need proof to ruin your future career.”
Someone clears their throat behind them, Rhysand and Cassian immediately sit up to look behind them to where coach had walked up. Azriel knew he was there, always had a sixth sense with that kind of stuff, but it was more fun to let his oldest friends get in trouble. “Ruining careers is what I am known for,” he snaps, before raising his voice so the whole team can hear him. “Lets head upstairs. We’re already late.”
The team grumbles as they all stand and follow coach to the stairwell. “Does he realize we’re late because he’s late?” Cassian grumbles under his breath.
“Keep it up, Cassian,” coach says from the front of the group, glancing down the stairs at Cassian with a mischievous grin. “Because I am not letting your shit slide this year. Get ready for surprise drop ins from yours truly in all your classes.”
As coach turns back around and pushes the doors to the second floor open, Azriel grins towards Cassian. “I guess you got your answer. You won’t be able to pull it off.”
They all file down the hallway, Azriel quizzically looking at the posters on the wall. “DANCE TEAM TRY OUTS, FRIDAY AUGUST 26th!!” or the posters of what looked like past dance recitals. They make it to the end of the hall as coach opens another door. Azriel only catching the end bit of what was being said inside, “This year's fall recital will be a charity recital with the Velaris Men’s Hockey Team!”
~*~
The doors to the studio burst open as your dance teacher finishes her announcements, everyone turning to see the sea of tall, broad males practically being pushed into the studio by their coach. You turn to look at your friends, both their faces mirror the disappointment that must be on yours. A recital…with hockey players? Recitals were when you could showcase your skills for dance companies in the area.
“Seniors will still have an opportunity to perform solos and group dances, so don’t fret about that,” your dance teacher says as if she was reading everyone's minds. “This will be a good skill for you all to learn. You should be able to dance with anyone,” she adds pointedly.
“And I don’t wanna hear any grumbling from anyone on my team, you all looked like elephants on ice skates last season. This will help out a charity and get your asses in shape for the season,” the hockey coach bellows, immediately shutting up the complaints coming from his team.
“And the best performing couple will both win a scholarship for next year,” Your professor smiles, “Shall we pair you all up and begin?” She takes the lack of response as encouragement to continue despite the energy in the room being the complete opposite. She runs through a list of names, the people pairing up and moving to the opposite side of the room.
“Nesta Archeron-,” Nesta sighs as she pulls herself up into a standing position.
Someone in the clump of hockey players that was still left yells “Dibs” through coughs, before it quickly turns into real coughs. You find them in the crowd, A broad brunette with hair pulled back into a manbun doubled over coughing a hand on his side and a taller dark haired male glancing down at him with a slight smirk to his lips. You conclude that he must have elbowed his friend.
Your dance teacher clears her throat, looking back down at the piece of paper in her hand. “Is with Cassian.”
You watch Nesta scowl as the male with the man bun grins and pushes his way through the crowd and over to Nesta. He whispers something to her which causes her to roll her eyes and stomp away from him. He quickly follows her to the other side of the room.
Your name is called next and you stand up, a wave of nerves crashing through you. “Is with-,” she pauses, eyes narrowing at the piece of paper. Your heart is beating with anticipation. You hadn’t done much partner work before, especially not with someone inexperienced. “Azriel.”
You look over to the group and see the one who had elbowed his friend at the comment pushing through towards you. He gives you a sheepish smile as the two of you move to the other side of the room. “I am Azriel,” he introduces.
You blink up at him before grinning, “I know,” you say, nodding your head towards where your dance teacher was still pairing people. “She just announced it.”
You don’t miss the slight tint of red grazing his cheeks. “Right, sorry-, I-,” he falters.
You feel a pang of guilt before reaching your hand out and introducing yourself. He looks down at your hand and back up before his hand encloses in yours. You try to ignore how your heart begins to quicken once more.
“I should apologize in advance, I am a lot better on the ice than-, uh- land?” he says.
You grin, “Well, if what your coach says is true and you look like an elephant with ice skates, I am going to have my work cut out for me if we’re going to get that scholarship.”
The corner of his lips tugs up, and you can’t help but make a second challenge. To see a full genuine smile from your new ballet partner.
So very loosely based off of Nothing New by Taylor Swift (basically I just listened to this song on repeat my whole commute to work and decided I needed to write this story)
Cassian x Fem!Reader - Best friends x lovers, long(ish) distance, fluff x angst
masterlist // cassian fics
Eighteen…
Rain pelted Cassian’s windshield, his deep voice singing softly to the music playing on the radio station, the ac causing goosebumps to raise on your forearms that you promptly tucked closer to you. Cassian catches the movement, turning to glance at you before reaching forward to turn the ac down. “You could have told me I was freezing you out,” he grins, a small indent forming on his cheek. You clench your fingers into a fist, trying to ignore the itch to reach out and graze the dimple that only seemed to appear for you.
You had been in love with your bestfriend for five years, three months, and two days (and about 20 mins if you really wanted to calculate it) but he had only seen you as a friend. He practically called you a sister when you were at a party last weekend and the bottle he had spun landed on you.
“Darlin?”
You shake yourself from your thoughts, turning to face Cassian, the first time you had actually been grateful for the stormy weather that made the car too dark for him to notice the red tint to your cheeks. “Hmmm?” you ponder, not trusting your voice.
He chuckles, turning back to the street. His fist tightening on the steering wheel as his knuckles turn white. “I asked if this temperature was okay,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he tries to stay on the road.
“Cas, maybe we should just do this another night,” you say, shifting in your seat a bit, gnawing on your lip nervously.
He glances at you and then back at the road. “I just bought this car and I wanna take my first real drive in it with my favorite girl to have our end of summer dinner somewhere real nice. No more greasy pizza or fake tacos,” he comments, he shrugs nonchalantly as he reaches over to grab your hand and squeezes it reassuringly. “Besides, the storms not supposed to last-,”
His sentence is cut short as thunder booms in the sky, close enough that it shook the car. You grip Cassian’s hand tightly as you turn to look at him wide-eyed. His frown deepens, “Maybe I’ll just turn up here-,” he says, flicking on his blinker before taking the next turn right into a parking lot that was bustling with people. You squinted through the rain to see people through the windows laughing and dancing. “Wanna wait it out here? Get on the road again as soon as the storm clears?”
You glance through the window and up at the faintly lit up sign, “Rita’s.” You turn to look at Cassian, a grin tugging on your lips. “What’s that look for?” he asks.
You shrug slyly, “Maybe we should wait it out inside,” you say. “Do you believe in fate?”
The corner of his lips tug up into a grin. “With you? Of course I do,” he comments.
You smile, “Good, because I feel like we are exactly where we need to be,” you say, as you push open the door and run out into the storm. Cassian laughing as he follows you across the gravel parking lot and tugging on your waist before you can make it to the door.
You shriek with laughter as he twirls you, promptly setting you down behind him so he’s able to open the door for you. He bows, “M’lady,” gesturing for you to walk through the door.
“M’lord,” you snort as you curtsey before walking into the diner that is bustling with life. People laughing and lounging on the booths, couples swaying and twirling on a makeshift dance floor. A few people at the bar look up when the two of you burst through the doors. Your clothes dripping onto the checkered porcelain floor.
An older man with a graying beard and glasses leaned behind the counter and grins, he raises a mug in greeting before turning to the kitchen window. “Rita, ya ‘etter put on the kettle for some hot cocoa. We got some stragglers.”
You giggle to yourself as you watch Cassian get roped into another dance with one of the older ladies. He grins down at her as she speaks to him, he twirls her before dipping her which results in a joyful shriek from her. “Thanks for sharing your boy with us, it’s been so long since we’ve had a strapping young man stumble through here,” one of the ladies he had danced with prior says to you. “Finally someone we don’t have to worry about breaking a hip.”
You laugh, and you’re about to comment that he’s not your boy but another one cuts you off. “How long have the two of you been going steady?”
Your mouth opens to answer when another one interjects, “Steady, Jean? The kids these days call it talking.”
You laugh, as the two ladies begin to bicker back and forth with mischievous eyes. A warm hand entangles itself with yours as it tugs you off your stool and into Cassian’s chest. “Dance with me?” he says, already pulling you to the dance floor as the jukebox shifts to a lively jig to a slow song.
Your hands move to wrap them around Cassian’s neck as he finds the small of your back. He pulls you closer to him. “I think you were right. This place was made for us,” he says, as the two of you sway together. You blink up at him, only able to give him a small smile. He frowns. “Penny for your thoughts?”
He twirls you and your hand lands on his chest, fingers entangling in his shirt as you look at him. “Summer’s almost over,” you reply.
He laughs, “That’s normally why we have our end of the summer celebrations,” he says. You shove him in jest but his hold tightens on you. “You’re worried?”
You half shrug. “You’re going away to school. I am here for another year. What if you’ll forget about me?” you ask.
A line forms between his eyebrows in concern as he looks down at you. “Forget about you? You’re my best friend. I will never forget about you. Besides, you’re planning to visit. Watch me play in the big leagues?”
You’re my best friend. Best friend. Best friend. Your shoulders deflate without your permission and his eyes immediately catch the movement, the crease between his brows deepening. “You’re not going to watch me play in the big leagues?” he asks slowly.
“No, it’s not that,” you reply quickly without thought.
He nods, his eyes focused on you as he silently replays what he said in his mind. “You’re not my best friend?” he asks.
“Of course I am. Always have been and always will be,” you say with a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. The song ends and you let your hands drop to your sides. You turn to exit the dance floor, but he reaches for hand and pulls you back towards him.
You collide with his chest, his other hand moves to lift your chin gently so you’re looking up at him. “And if I thought of you as more?” he asks quickly. You almost didn’t hear it with the lively song that caused the patrons to cheer and join the floor around you. “If I thought about how I wanted you to come visit me and wear my jersey and spend the night wrapped in my arms? If I thought about how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you, how I wish I could kiss you whenever I wanted.”
You swallow, your breath catching in your throat. “Why don’t you then?” you say.
He doesn’t look sure at first but you wrap your arm around his neck, fingers entangling in the curls at the base of his neck. He’s leaning forward, lips capturing yours in desperation, hands clenching the fabric of your tee shirt as if you would slip between his fingers if he didn’t hold on.
You grin into the kiss as you hear the hollers of the ladies you had been sitting with, Cassian pulls away slightly, his forehead resting on yours as he catches his breath. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he grins.
You tug on his curls, leaning up to give a quick chaste kiss to his lips. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a long time.” you reply with a matching grin.
Twenty-Two…
You weren’t planning to come. You had woken up that morning in your childhood bed and realized what day it was. The day you and Cassian had found yourself in that little diner. You wondered if he would come as you placed your car in park. The diner that was normally full of life was quiet as if it was preparing for a storm.
You shake the thought from your head, of course he wouldn’t. Not when two years ago had ended with the two of you breaking up and not speaking with one another. It was the same fight the two of you had always found yourselves in when you spoke of the future.
Cassian wanted to move back to the small town while you wanted to move out. You had stayed local for college, needing to take care of a sick relative and now you couldn’t stand to stay. Cassian wanted to settle down and coach the football team while you worked at the library, cafe, local newspaper, or “whatever you heart desires”
You scoff to yourself when you hear him say those words clear as day. You wanted more than this life. He had gotten his great adventure, moving to the city and playing football at one of the best universities. Wasn’t it your turn to live life?
You had transferred universities, moving hours away and majoring in someone that you wanted and not just because it was one of the only majors the university offered. You had your adventures but despite all the experiences there was a Cassian sized hole in your heart.
You push open your car door, thinking back to when you were nineteen driving here alone for the first time. Cassian had told you he wouldn’t be home due to football training but that hadn’t stopped you from wanting to come to your new favorite place. You felt the closest to him here.
You felt stupid walking across the parking lot, wondering if anyone would even remember you from last year. You faltered at the door, wondering if you should turn around and go home. “Most people use doors to enter the buildings, Darlin-,”
You turn sharply, ready to snap at whoever made the comment but the insult dies on your lips as you hear the familiar twang of darlin and then Cassian’s bright eyes looking down at you. “You’re here,” you say, launching yourself at Cassian. He had only been gone a few weeks for training camp but it felt like him leaving was getting harder and harder. “You drove three hours to be here?”
He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Course I did, what's three hours for someone you love?”
Your feet falter and Cassian’s mouth drops open. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” he begins sheepishly, a red tint to his cheeks. “I was going to tell you tonight, I put a bunch of blankets in the bed of my truck and I was going to tell you while looking at the stars. It was supposed to be romantic.”
You laugh, turning towards him. “I love you too, Cassian. Always have.”
“Always will?” he grins, leaning down to capture your lips with his.
You tug on the door and swing it open. You glance around the diner. Had the red booths always been so faded? The jukebox so robotic as if it was on its last leg? The door jingles and a familiar dark haired woman peeks her head out from the kitchen. “Ah, what brings you in stranger? Missed you last year.”
You force a grin, “Rita, good to see you,” you say, not missing how she glances behind you out the door to see if Cassian was with you.
She frowns. “Want me to put the kettle on?” she asks, remembering that the two of you had always ordered hot cocoa after your first night.
You shake your head. “Got anything stronger?” you ask, needing the courage if you were going to face being stood up. She gives you a pitiful smile before nodding and disappearing back into the kitchen.
You head to an empty booth in the corner, Rita coming out minutes later with a drink and some french fries. You watch the crowd roll in as the hours tick by, familiar faces and unfamiliar faces filling the tables around you. Has it always been this quiet? Had being with Cassian made life seem so much bigger than it actually was?
“Where’s the mister?” Jean asks as she slouches into the booth across from you. Her eyes seemed to be fading but her smile was still filled with mischievousness. “He told us you were out of town last year and now you’re here without him.”
You swallow, he had come last year? Your heart skipped a beat. If he had come last year there was a chance he would come tonight, right? “He’ll be here,” you say, almost believing yourself.
Jean grins and with a wink she's back on her feet. “Tell him to save me a dance, will ya?” she calls over her shoulder.
Two more hours ticked by and the hope you had felt earlier was dissipating. You sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to show. You slide out from the booth and head towards the counter to pay your tab and say a final farewell to Rita. You wouldn’t be able to bring yourself back here.
You tap your card on the counter, waiting for Rita to finish taking someone's order as someone clears their throat behind you. You jump, an apology already on your lips as you turn your mouth dropping when you see Cassian standing behind you. His hands shoved into his pockets.
His boyish grin feels sheepish as he looks down at you. “Do you believe in fate?” he asks after a beat of silence.
You can’t help but grin. “With you? Of course I do,” you say, repeating the answer he had given all those years ago.
Velaris University: Before the secret. . . the final bet (23)
Tagged (lmk if you want to be tagged): @hellodarling1357, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @cassianstannn32, @esahintzkanen, @fireheartviolence @lilah-asteria
masterlist // cassian fics // previous chapter // the end
to cont. in the universive read "during the secret" (written prioer to the Velaris University so pacing/timeline might be a little iffy)
You let out a loud sigh of annoyance as you put the car in park, narrowing your eyes as you turn to see Cassian’s wary expression. “What are you staring at?” you comment, not bothering to hide the annoyance in your tone.
“I just didn’t expect you to have road rage,” Cassian replies. Your brows furrow as you blink over at him. You had spent the last hour driving to this restaurant during rush hour for you both to have mediocre hamburgers because your friends had already caught you out on dates one too many times. He raises his hands immediately, clocking your expression, “It’s hot. I am kind of turned on right now.”
You blink at him before turning forward in your seat and pulling the keys and tossing them in his direction. “You can drive on the way home. I don’t even like driving,” you retort bitterly.
“You said you were okay driving,” Cassian comments.
“Yeah, because you’re the one who has a car in the shop because of an accident,” you refute.
Cassian scoffs, “I was hit while I was parked, that’s hardly my fault. You almost hit an old lady,” he retorts, and you wanted to smack the cocky grin you knew he was wearing. You busied yourself with finding your chapstick in your purse.
“I had the green light,” you reply, pulling the lipstick out and flicking your mirror down to reapply.
“She was a pedestrian!” Cassian laughs, “It’s been a minute since I’ve tested for my licenses but I am pretty sure they have the right away.”
You smack your lips together as you promptly snap the mirror closed and turn to look at him. His eyes watching your lips with a crooked smile, “Well now I am definitely turned on,” he grins, his eyes flickering up at you with a sparkle of mischievous.
You feign a pout, “Aw, well I am definitely not,” you retort, opening the car door and stepping out. You tug on your dress, wishing you had decided to wear something a little more comfortable especially since you were already irritated and overstimulated from the drive.
Cassian walks around the car, interlocking his fingers with yours as he tugs your forward causing you to look up at him. “Have I told you look beautiful today?” he asks.
You bite back a grin, “Yeah, but it would be nice to hear it again,” you reply.
He chuckles, leaning forward to brush a kiss to your forehead. “You look beautiful,” he says, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips. “Thank you for driving. Now are you ready to have the best burgers of your life?”
You nod, feeling your spirits lift a tiny bit as he leads you towards the restaurant. You walk down the sidewalk, your eyes narrowing once more as you spot the little diner with a “$2.50 BURGERS” sign in the window. You glance down at the dress you were wearing. “You told me to look nice! We are way over-,” the words slip from your lips as you walk past the diner and across the street towards a hotel that looked like it cost a month's rent a night.
You tug on Cassian’s hand before he’s able to pull you inside. He stops to turn back towards you. “Surprised?” He grins, happy with himself that he was able to keep a secret from you. “There’s a rooftop restaurant that gives you a view of the whole city.”
“Cas, we can’t go in there,” you say with wide eyes. “Let's go back and get those $2.50 burgers.”
Cassian pulls on your hand but you stay planted on the sidewalk. “I made these reservations months ago,” he says.
“But-,” you look up at the hotel doors. “There’s a chandelier in the lobby. We can’t afford chandelier-in-the-lobby hotel restaurant food.”
Cassian laughs again. “I am a business major, I think I am able to figure out what I can and cannot afford,” he replies, nodding his head towards the door. “Now let me spoil you,” you stay put, staring up at him. “Please?”
You let him pull you through the doors. “Are you sure?” you ask as you ride up the elevator. “I think the doors are made out of real gold.”
He nods, “I am sure,” he says, squeezing your hand reassuringly.
You swallow tightly as the hostess leads you through the sea of tables where the patrons were using real silverware and had crystal glasses full of champagne. “I can pretend to get sick and we can get out of here,” you say as Cassian pulls out your chair and you sit on a velvet cushion.
“Stop worrying and figure out what you want to eat,” Cassian replies with an eye roll as he glances down at his menu.
You blink at him before looking down at the menu, you knew Cassian had gotten a full ride and didn’t need to pay rent but he was going to blow through his savings from working throughout highschool. You looked down at the menu ready to pick the cheapest thing. “Cassian,” you say.
He shakes his head, “Yes?” he asks.
“There’s no prices,” you say slowly.
He lowers his menu to glance across the table at you. “Stop worrying and order what you want,” he states, trying to put an end to the discussion as he lifts the menu again.
After you order what you guessed was the cheapest thing and the waitress takes the menus away to put your order in, you gnaw on your lip as you glance around. He only decided to bring you here because you couldn’t go anywhere local.
He reaches across the table for your head and you reach for him immediately without another thought. “I thought I told you to stop worrying,” he comments, “Just enjoy it. We don’t get to go out much.”
You nod, “What if we did,” you say.
He tilts his head. “I am not following,” he responds.
“What if we told our friends? What if we went out in public, on dates, around campus,” you say.
He leans back slightly as if pondering this. “It wouldn’t just be telling our friends. It would be all over The Suriel,” he replies. “Everyone would give their opinion on it.”
You nod in thought, your lips parting to reply, to say you didn’t care when a familiar voice calls your names. Cassian's hand slips from yours as he swears under his breath. You turn to see Rhysand walking towards your table. “Cas! You should have told me this is where you were going tonight. We could have carpooled,” Rhysand says, looking between the two of you with a grin. “What brings you two here anyways?” he asks, his eyes landing on Cassian.
He opens and closes his mouth, unsure of what to say. “We are here for a project for school. An author used to stay at this hotel and write so we are writing a paper on the place,” you reply quickly.
“Really?” Rhysand says with a nod. “I come here once a month, best placed to get a twiced baked potato and lobster. I had no idea it had a history like that.” You nod, unsure of what else to say. You hoped he wouldn’t look it up or ask to read the paper. “I wish I had seen you guys sooner. I just finished my meal.”
“That’s a shame,” Cassian says, finally finding his voice. “I’ll see you back at the house.”
“Actually, I ubered here so if you guys aren’t going to be long I-,” Rhysand begins but is promptly cut off by Cassian, “Sorry we- uh, are going on a ghost tour after this to try and communicate with the author. Don’t know when we will be heading back.”
Rhysand nods, as if that wasn’t an odd thing to be doing. “No worries, I’ll see you guys later. Definitely recommend the lobster!” he says, before turning away and heading out of the restaurant.
You watch him leave before turning towards Cassian. “A ghost tour to communicate with a dead author?” you practically snort.
He raises his hands, “I panicked,” he retorts.
“Maybe we do need to tell our friends. I am not sure you would be able to keep a secret for much longer,” you reply, taking a long sip of your water.
He scoffs, “Me? I think you want to tell everyone because you’ve almost let it slip a few times,” he retorts.
“Oh really? When?” you question, setting your glass back down on the table.
“Yesterday you walked right into our house and almost gave me a kiss before you realized Azriel and Rhysand were also in the kitchen,” he says.
You hum, “You rolled out of my bed and made scrambled eggs in only boxers while both of my roommates were in the house. How would you explain that?” you reply.
He narrows his eyes at you before his lips turn up into a mischievous grin. “Wanna bet?”
You lean forward, raising an eyebrow. “Bet what exactly?”
“Who’s going to spill the secret first. I think it’ll be you, you think it’ll be me. Let's add some stakes,” he says.
You return his grin, thinking back to the bet that started it all. “Okay, Cassian. You’re on.”
Hi, I just wanted to pop in here and let you know that I am absolutely obsessed with your Velaris University fic with Cassian and reader. I recently came across it and it is probably my favourite Cassian fic I’ve read so far. I’ve probably read it about 4 or 5 different times from start to finish. I’m literally obsessed with reader and Cassian relationship and the writing is simply amazing. I just think your fic and the writing in this fic and the way you portray Cassian simply perfection!!
I was just wondering if you plan to update that fic anytime soon. I don’t want to pressure you or annoy you about writing the next part at all, I’m just curious because I love the fic so so much and I am excited to see what’s next for Cassian and readers relationship!!
Anyways I’m gonna go fall into a rabbit hole of all you’re writing because it’s amazing🫶🏻.
Hi! The plan is to have a few more chapters but I am finishing up my doctorate and life got chaotic. I actually just started rereading it so I’d be able to write another part and have it make sense.
Hopefully this weekend but if not sometime next week ❤️
Mean comments result in reader falling back into bad habits. (Trigger warning: Body dysmorphia, eating disorders)
Masterlist // cassian fics
You frown as the comments keep coming through. Your eyes blurring, unable to keep up with the hundreds of mean comments pouring through over your latest post. You had decided to do a bare face campaign photoshoot and the comments were not responding positively to your natural appearance.
Your nose was too big, your hair needed retouching, there was a little scar on your eyebrow from where you fell off your bike at age four. Everyone was assuming it was some botched botox scar.
You sit back on the edge of your tub, your look up from your phone to see your own reflection in the mirror. Your hand immediately lifted to run along the bridge of your nose, was it too big? You move to your cheekbones next and then down to the ends of your hair. You could benefit from some new styling, maybe a fresh cut or perhaps some highlights?
You had known it would be mentally challenging to become an actress, long hours and the constant shifting between a wide range of personalities. It would be taxing but it was something you loved. You weren’t prepared for how cruel comments on your social media would be or even how mean photographers would be.
You think back to yesterday, you were so excited to get a spread in Vogue. It had been on your vision board for years and it was finally happening. Your excitement quickly dying down when your manager continuously made comments about your appearance.
“Don’t twist to the right, it makes you look bloated. Have you been keeping up with your personal training sessions?”
“Sweetie, you look pregnant. What have you been eating? Are YOU pregnant?”
“Lift your head, we can see your chins, all three of them.”
Your hand moves to your stomach, the cycling and pilates classes weren’t cutting it anymore. You should reach out to your trainer and add in another day of training. You stand up, turning to the side and lifting your tee-shirt. You had gone out with Nesta and Emerie over the weekend, had too much pasta and one too many glasses of wine. It was your fault you had been bloated for your shoot. If you had stuck to the diet your trainer had made you-
There’s a sharp knock on the bathroom door and you let your tee-shirt drop over your stomach once more as the door swings open, Cassian grins down at you as he holds up a paper bag with the logo of your favorite cafe. “I didn’t want to disturb you but I’ve been waiting downstairs to surprise you and it’s getting cold, what-,”
You take the few steps towards him and practically launch yourself at him. He stumbles back a step before wrapping her arms around your back. “Woah-,” he laughs, brushing a kiss to the top of your head as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” you pull back trying to muster up a smile. “You’re on tour! You’re supposed to be on the other side of the country? How are you here?”
He brings a hand to your cheek. “Your campaign just launched, did you really think I wouldn’t come back to surprise you?” he grins. “I took a redeye. I have to leave again tonight for the show tomorrow but I had to see you. I am so proud of you.”
You let your hands fall to your sides and his eyes narrow. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” you say quickly, too quickly. You can see he’s about to question you so you quickly add, “A day just isn’t long enough. I’ve missed you.”
His eyes soften and he leans down to brush a chaste kiss against your lips. “I know, but I am here now and once your press tour ends in a few weeks for your movie your still joining me for the second leg of the tour right? I am tired of fifth wheeling, Gwyn and Feyre made me do face masks the other night.”
You pause, you had been so excited to join Cassian on the tour bus for a few months but now the idea of gas station snacks and no gyms made you uneasy. You would surely lose all your progress if you went away for months. Cassian says your name and you look up.
“Maybe, my agent sent me over some scripts and there’s one I am really interested in,” you fib, guilt eating away you.
His lips tighten, but then he shakes the expression. “We’ll figure it out. We always do,” he hums, before lifting the bag. “I got you a chocolate croissant and that disgustingly sweet mocha frozen thing you like.”
His hand slides down your arm, entangling his fingers with yours as he pulls you down the stairs and to the kitchen, where Cassian immediately pulls out a croissant and slides it towards you alongside the drink. He smiles brightly at you and you try to return the smile best you can but your mind immediately begins calculating how long you’ll have to be on your elliptical later to burn off the calories.
It had been three weeks since Cassian had surprised you. Three weeks since the mean comments rolled in and didn’t stop, despite you applying a full face of makeup every day and your instagram stories no longer new coffee shop finds or foodie pics but instead you working with a trainer or picking up boxing lessons at Nesta’s gym.
Despite these changes the comments continued to come. You felt like you were drowning in the negativity. You roll to your side as you watch Cassian move through the tour bus, filling a bowl full of various snacks. How could he eat so much and still look so good?
Your eyes shifted to the little box in the corner of your reflection. You frown at the double chin, extended in your neck out to get a better angle and rotate your phone. “What are you doing?” Your eyes shift to meet Cassian’s through the screen, he was grinning with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
You sit up quickly, “I thought I saw something on my neck, I was just checking it,” you mumble, grimacing at the exhaustion in your bones as you shift into an upright position. You had a strenuous training session and then talked Nesta into doing spin class with you.
“What’s wrong?” Cassian asks, as he sprawls out on his tour bus bed.
You shake your head, ‘Nothing, I just had an intense training session earlier and I am a little sore,” you say, your hand moving to your stomach as it growls. Cassian chuckles. “Where are you guys headed now?”
“Boston,” he says, tilting his head to the side. “Haven’t you had training every day this week? And you posted about cycling today. That’s a lot, don’t you think?”
You shake your head, “That script is a spy movie, I have to be action ready,” you lie again. The lies were becoming worse. You would have to either beg your agent to find you a spy movie or say you had to drop from the movie somehow.
“I don’t think you need to be working out twice a day,” he replies.
You think back to the pregnancy comments on your latest post. “It’s what my agent and the directors have discussed. I want to do my own stunts,” you reply.
His frown deepens. “What did you have to eat for dinner?” he asks.
“What’s with the interrogation?” you ask, not wanting to lie again.
“You’re not exactly the best cook. I wanna make sure you aren’t living off of cereal and takeout,” he says, grinning, but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes.
You shift uncomfortably, “I had left over pasta.”
He frowns again. “You’ve had leftover pasta every night this week.”
You shift again. “I made a lot over the weekend, I am not really sure why I am being questioned,” you say, irritably as your stomach growls again. His eyes narrow in concern and his name slips from his lips. “Leave it, Cassian.”
He flinches at your tone. “I am beginning to worry-,”
“Well don’t,” you snap again, regretting immediately filling your chest. “I have to go. I am meeting Nesta early tomorrow morning.”
“Wait-,” Cassian begins but your finger already presses the end call and he disappears from your screen leaving you in silence. You let your phone fall to your chest as your shoulders begin to shake with silent sobs.
It had been a few days of ignoring calls from Cassian. You pick up your phone, your eyes scanning the new message from Cassian. “Please call me. I am worried.”
You let your phone drop into your duffle bag and turn to where Nesta was standing inside the boxing ring with Emerie. “Ready?” you ask Nesta as you jump over the rope and walk over to them. Emerie says her goodbyes and walks away as Nesta turns to you.
“I was thinking we could go grab breakfast instead. I haven’t been performing my best and I need to rest,” Nesta says. “We haven’t gone out in so long. We can catch up.”
You frown. You slept through your spin class this morning so you needed this training session. “Can someone else train me?” you question, not able to hide the desperation in your voice.
Nesta’s eyes narrow. “I thought he was just paranoid,” she mutters as she looks at me. She crosses her arms, “When was the last time you ate?”
You scoff, “This morning,” you reply honestly. You had half a banana on your way over here. “What do you mean by he? Did Cassian call you?”
“He’s worried, and rightfully so. You’re running yourself ragged. Why?” Nesta replies, stepping closer to you. “What’s going on? We can help. We can figure something out. A better, healthier, way to manage this.”
You can’t help the anger fueling you. “You’re believing Cassian over me? I am fine, Nes. Just stressed,” you reply. “He’s not even here. How would he know anything?”
Nesta steps towards you as you step back. “I am not believing Cassian over you. I am staring right at you wondering how I missed all the signs,” she replies, her voice almost full of regret. “Come back to my place, please. We can talk.”
You shake your head, your emotions running high as you move to step over the ropes, dizziness overtaking you as you miss a step and go crashing down to the floor. You wince as your wrist makes contact before your head, the last thing you hear is Nesta yelling your name.
“Don’t call him,” you threaten as Nesta walks behind you into your house after spending the last eight hours in the emergency room only to get a cast for your wrist and some fluids. “He’s on tour, he doesn’t need to worry.”
You plop down on your couch, and turn to see Nesta narrowing her eyes at you. “He’s already worried. He’s called you three times today and me twice. You need to talk to him, tell him everything.” Nesta replies.
You glare over at her. “There’s nothing to tell,” you reply.
“Okay, I won’t call him,” Nesta retorts, before grinning mischievously as she sits down on the couch across from you. “But we’re ordering pizza.”
You frown, “I don’t really have an appetite after spending that many hours in the hospital,” you supply.
“I am sure you could manage a slice or two, you haven’t eaten since this morning,” Nesta comments.
You cross your arms, glancing down at the cast on your wrist. Maybe this was becoming too much. Maybe you had gone too far. You blink up at Nesta, your tears blurring your vision. “Oh, honey,” Nesta comments, moving across the room and sitting down beside you. You collapse into her lap.
Nesta runs a hand through your hair, whispering kind words as your exhaustion overtakes you.
Your body aches and your eyelids feel heavy as you tune into the voices, whispering around you. “What did I do?” you hear a familiar voice ask.
“You didn’t do anything,” Nesta comments back, a bitter anger to her voice as she continues, “I was scrolling through her social media. The comments are ruthless. Have you seen them? Has she said anything to you?”
“No, I-,” his voice cracks. “I didn’t know. She didn’t mention anything.”
You blink, your eyes aching from crying for hours. “Cas-,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion as you push yourself into a sitting position as best you can. “You’re supposed to be on tour.”
He’s beside you in a second, your name falling from his lips as he brings hand up to your check. “They pushed a few shows. I am not supposed to be anywhere except here, with you,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He softens as he looks at you, “Why didn’t you say anything to me?” he asks.
You shrug, “It’s embarrassing,” you reply softly. You watch Nesta step out of the room to give the two of you privacy. “I didn’t want you to know what others were saying about me and then- I guess, I thought maybe if you knew you would-,”
“Would what? Agree?” Cassian asks, his eyes widening in surprise. “Have I ever made you feel that way?”
You shake your head, quickly. “No, you haven’t. I wasn’t thinking straight-,” you swallow tightly. “I was consumed by the comments. I wanted to be better for you, for everyone. I was trying to be better.”
He shifts so he’s sitting beside you. “You don’t need to be better for anyone,” he says, as you lean your head on his shoulder. “Especially not for faceless names on the internet who have nothing better to do than to comment about other people's looks.”
“I am sorry you had to come back and push your shows. Did Nesta call you? I didn’t want to bother you,” you ask.
He shifts, so he’s facing you. “You are never a bother to me. The hospital called, I am your emergency contact,” he says, “I wish you called. I am mad that you didn’t call me.”
You nod, “I understand if you want to break up with me. If you want to end things. I get it.”
He blinks down at you. “I am not breaking up with you,” he states.
You look up in surprise. “You’re not?” you ask, holding your breath as he shakes his head. “But you just said you were mad at me.”
“I am, sort of. I just wish that you trusted me enough to tell me what was happening. I could have helped sooner. We could have gotten you help before it got to this,” he says, glancing down at your cast covered wrist. “I can’t make you eat or make sure you don’t over exercise, but I can tell you that your worth is more important than a number on the scale or comments made by others.”
You turn your head as tears begin to form, but his hand reaches up and gently tilts your head towards him. “You don’t have me or your friends or jobs because of your size. It’s because you're confident, loyal, humble, intelligent, beautiful-,” you turn away but his grip tightens slightly. “And extremely talented.”
“The people who care about you know that. The people who have to hide behind their screens don’t know you well enough to comment anything about you,” he continues, “Please tell me you understand that. Please tell me you’ll stop letting people who don’t matter in the grand scheme of things hold this much power over you.”
You nod, “I am sorry,” you say, “for making you come here, for being like this-,”
He shushes you gently. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. I am where I need to be, where I want to be,” he says, leaning forward and brushing a kiss against your forehead. You soften into his embrace and his arm moves around your shoulders to pull you to his chest.
“Thank you,” you whisper after a long stretch of silence.
He takes a deep breath, “If you really want to thank me, you’ll get help, and you’ll tell me if things like this happen again,” he says. You nod against his chest. “Promise?”
Cassian picks Nyx up from school @beardburnsupersoldiers
Masterlist // Fluffruary // cassian fics
You tap your fingers against your desk in tune with the ticking clock on the wall as you look down at the dark haired toddler ramming two toy trunks into each other on the playmat. You glance down as your phone lights up, your hopes rising only to crash to see an automatic message from some clothing store you bought sunglasses from three years ago is having a 75% sale this weekend.
You push away from your desk and move to sit on the floor to sit beside Nyx, wondering how long you should give it until you call his parents for a third time today. You had never met Rhysand, but Feyre was notorious for running a few minutes to an hour late to pick Nyx up after school, usually having to send an aunt in to grab him.
You didn’t mind much at first, they would go all out on teacher appreciation gifts so it felt like an even exchange but over the last week they had been over two hours late picking Nyx up. They were taking advantage of your kindness and the anger was simmering in your chest with every passing minute.
What if you had plans? Not that you did, normally you filled your evenings with strolling through the city and finding a park bench to read on before grabbing take out. But, they didn’t know that.
“Where’s mommy or daddy, Nyx? Did they say they had plans today?” You hum as you sit beside him.
He looks up at you with bright eyes and smiles, before shoving the red truck into your hands. “Here, Ms Teacher, you are the red one. Matches your shirt,” he says, before promptly ramming his blue truck into you.
You suck in a breath before letting it out, it wasn’t his fault his parents were constantly late. “Nyx,” you try again, placing your hand on top of his to get him to stop ramming the truck into you and to look up at you. “Do you know an aunt or uncle's name? Number?”
He pursues his lips as if in thought, he finally holds up four fingers and announces, “I have four aunties! Aunty Nessie, Aunty Ewaine, Aunty Mor, and Aunty Amwen,” he looks down at his fingers before dropping one and saying, “and two uncles! Cas and Azzie.”
You reach over to lower another finger so he’s only holding two and he frowns down at them. “Do you know where they work?” you ask, desperate enough to start calling businesses to get someone to pick this child up. Nyx taps his chin, and you can’t help but soften a little. There were definitely worst children you could have been left with, at least he was well behaved.
“Nessie reads and Ewaine plants flowers,” he replies, before reaching over for your red truck and beginning to roll it around.
“What about your Uncle Cas?” you ask, “Where does he work? What does he do?”
You’re about to open your mouth to ask him if he lives locally, it would be easy to call the local fire department and ask around for a Cas but someone’s laugh has you turning quickly to the door where a large man with dark hair was leaning against the doorframe. “Stops fires,” the man interjects with a grin. The amusement in his eyes fuelled the anger that had begun to mellow inside of you.
You stand quickly, “How long have you been standing there?”
His eyes turn away from Nyx and fixate on you, the corner of his lips curling slightly. “Long enough to see you trying to get a five year old to give you his whole family tree,” he retorts, pushing himself away from the door and stepping into the room. He extends a hand towards you, “I’m-,”
“Late,” you interrupt, turning away from his extended hand and grabbing Nyx’s backpack and lunchbox. You turn and thrust them into the man's chest, who has no choice but to use his extended arm to quickly clutch onto them as you turn around to begin grabbing your own belongings. You lower your voice so Nyx, who’s still happily playing doesn’t hear, “I know usually your wife handles pick up, but you’re two hours late. That’s two unpaid hours of work I had to do.”
His smile falls, “I am sorry, my shift ran late-,” he pauses, his eyebrows narrowing, “wife?”
“Yes, well, my shift also ran late thanks to you,” you say. You turn and smile brightly towards the little boy, the anger dropping from your tone as you say, “Nyx, look who’s here to pick you up!”
You turn to finish putting your laptop into your bag as you hear Nyx run across the room. You sling your bag onto your shoulder before turning and stopping in your track when you see the large man quickly picking the little boy up, Nyx’s Lightning McQueen backpack slung over one very large and musculature shoulder.
You turn away from the sight, he’s married, you scold yourself quickly. You feel his gaze on you as you turn. “I am sorry you had to stay two hours after-,” he falters, almost shyly before continuing, “I could get you coffee or dinner to make up for it.”
You frown, wondering what kind of relationship Rhysand and Feyre had that she would be okay with him taking her child's teacher out on a very date-like outing. “I don’t think that would be very professional given that I teach Nyx,” you say quickly. He raises his eyebrows, glancing at Nyx whose head was leading against his shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed. “I think you should go now.”
“Right,” he begins, his voice laced with confusion. “Thank you. Sorry again, for being late. I’ll try to make sure the pickups are better handled.”
“What’s the deal with you wanting to pick Nyx up from school? You’ve picked him up every single day this week,” Rhysand asks as he leans against the counter, waving over the bartender before turning towards Cassian.
Cassian takes a long sip of his drink, turning his attention towards the door and towards his friend. He had happened to hear another teacher asking to come to Rita’s with everyone tonight when he was picking Nyx up earlier. You had been ignoring him the best you could at pick up this whole week and he would talk to you.
He hadn’t made a great impression and after reviewing the whole exchange multiple times afterwards and consulting with Azriel, he realized you thought he was Rhysand. Of course you freaked out when he asked you out.
“I am helping you out,” Cassian replies, “You and Feyre have been busy running for mayor or whatever the two of you are doing that I thought I would help out.”
Rhysand’s eyes narrow, “State governor,” he retorts, resulting in an eye roll from Cassian. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Nyx’s teacher is young, pretty, and single?”
Cassian looks over quickly, “She’s single?” which results in a grin from Rhysand. “How do you even know that? She’s never even met you. She thought I was you.”
Rhysand scoffs, “I feel like I should be offended,” he replies, “I know that because I am in politics. I needed to make sure I could trust my son's teacher.”
“If anyone should be offended, it should be me. She thinks I am some deadbeat who leaves his son at school like it’s a daycare,” Cassian retorts, taking a long sip of his drink as his eyes move back to the door. It had been hours, he was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.
Cassian can practically hear Rhysand’s frown as he comments, “With Elaine on vacation and everything with the campaign it’s been hard to get him on time.”
“Exactly, which is why I am helping. Nyx gets quality time with me and the pretty and single teacher can leave her job on time,” he states, adding silently and I get another chance to woo the pretty single teacher who’s not afraid to put him in his place. “Win win for everyone, especially Nyx.”
The door opens and Cassian’s shoulders straighten as he sees you walk through the door, the teacher from earlier pulling you through the crowd and over to the bar. Cassian swallows as he realized they were beelining right towards him.
“Gwyn,” he hears you say as your friend leans against the counter unaware of the staring contest happening between you and Cassian. “Gwyn,” you say again quickly and sharply, pulling your eyes away from Cassian and tugging on your friend.
Gwyn turns away from the bar and looks at her friend before looking over at Cassian. “Ah, you’re Nyx’s father!” she says, extending a hand out towards him, “Lets hope he gets your good looks but not your time management skills, eh?”
Cassian can’t help but laugh, his laughter growing as Rhysand pushes him to the side and takes her hand. “I am Rhysand,” he introduces and Cassian doesn’t miss the way your eyes widen and move from him to Rhysand. “You must be Nyx’s teacher. I am sorry, pick up has been so difficult.”
You muster up a smile, “That would be me actually,” you say, your eyes moving to Cassian. “And it’s been better since your friend has taken over.”
Rhysand nods diplomatically, “Campaigning takes up a lot of our time,” he explains.
You tilt your head to the side, “I am sure it does, but I would hope in the future your son will take priority,” you retort drily and Cassian can’t help but grin. Especially when he turns and sees Rhysand's uneasy demeanor. He had never encountered anyone he couldn’t sway.
“Let me buy you a drink to make up for it. Just tell the bartender to put your drinks under my tab,” he says with a smile.
Gwyn brightens, “Tha-,” but you interject quickly, “I am sure someone of your standard would be able to see how that’s not professional in the slightest. We can buy our own drinks,” you say, “Your son is great, perhaps you’ll actually attend the next parent conferences so I can tell you just how incredible he is.”
With that, you reach for your friend's hand and pull her towards the opposite side of the bar.
Cassian grins as he turns to see his friend simmering in defeat. “Shut up,” Rhysand comments. “I am a great dad.”
“Yeah, you are but she has a point,” Cassian replies easily. Rhysand turns to glare at his friend but Cassian just shakes his head and finishes his drink before pushing away from the counter.
Cassian turns to see Rhysands glare, “why do you have that stupid dopey look on your face?” Rhysand asks.
Cassian grins, “I think I am in love,” he comments, before nodding towards his drink. “Put that on your tab would ya?”
You lean against the island, watching Gwyn put another batch of cupcakes into the oven. “Why exactly are you making cupcakes from scratch?” You ask. “And why exactly did I need to be here?”
Gwyn pours some sugar into a pan and begins moving it around. The air quickly smelling of burnt sugar, you weren’t Intirely positive that Gwyn knew how to bake, or even use a stove. “Because I need it for my class tomorrow,” she comments, letting the spatula drop as she turns towards you and leans her elbows onto the counter, “and you need to tell me about that hottie from last night who’s no longer married.”
You rolls your eyes, “he could still be married,” you comment, ignoring the dread that filled your chest at that thought.
Gwyn rolls her eyes, as she leans forward to steal a fry for your plate. You had drank too much last night after running into rhysand and realizing you had bitched out your future possible state governor. You had Uber eats all the greasy food to soak up the alcohol.
“He’s not, no ring or a tan line of a ring,” she comments.
“He-,”
“Asked you out,” she interjects.
You deadpan. “He could still be married. That didn’t stop the last guy from asking me out.”
She ponders, tapping her chin. “But he’s so-,”
“Fire!” You interject, jumping off your stool.
Gwyn hums, “I was going to say hot, gorgeous, those muscles would-,” you reach forward and shift her towards the stove where flames were raising from the pan. “FIRE!”
You both immediately start screaming as the fire detectors start blaring, “do something!” Gwyn screams.
“I don’t know what to do!” You yell back before reaching for the pan, yelping as you quickly drop the pan in the sink, reaching forward to turn the water in before holding your tingling hand to your chest.
Gwyn reaches forward and throws a towel over the flame and you both watch silently as the flames die down. Gwyn turns towards you with a sigh of relief before looking down at where you were clutching your hand to your chest. “You got burned,” she says quickly.
You’re about to deny it when there’s sharp knocking on your door. You move past her and down the hall before opening the door. Not-Rhysand and another dark haired male in Velaris Firefirghter tee-shirts and bags slung over their shoulders stood on your porch.
Not-Rhysand mouth opens in surprised when he sees you and the other one glances between the two of you. “Uh-,” he steps forward. “A neighbor called and said they could hear the alarm and screaming. Everything okay?”
“Yes-,” you begin.
“No,” Gwyn interjects quickly, reaching for your hand and pulling it from your chest. You wince. “She got burned.”
“Because of the fire you started,” you mumble under your breath before turning towards the firefighters. “I am fine, really.”
Not-Rhysand is already unzipping his medic bag while pulling your arm towards him. You stumble into his chest and he steadies you quickly, his eyes focused on your hand.
You hear Gwyn clear her throat, “I’ll show you the scene of the crime,” she says to the other one. “I am Gwyn by the way.”
“Azriel,” he says, as he follows her down the hall. She turns to wink at you, mouthing “dibs.”
You roll yours eyes before looking back at Not-Rhysand. “Will I live?” You joke, beginning to get a little worried over the silence.
He grins, “I think you’ll pull through, I should put some salve on it to help cool it down and begin the healing process,” he says. He nods towards your porch swing and you follow him.
He works silently, and you try to ignore how nice his hand feels on yours. You blurt out your name and he looks up with a raised eyebrow. “That’s my name. We haven’t really officially met.”
He grins as he looks back down, “Cassian.”
You nod, unable to shake the smile from your face as he wraps a bandage around your palm. “I am sorry about last week, assuming you were Rhysand. I should be thanking you if you didn’t show up-,”
“You don’t need to thank me for that,” he says with a shake of his head.
“For that?” You repeat. He looks up at you quizzically. “You said I don’t need to thank you for that. Is there something I should be thanking you for?”
His lips twitch mischievously, “well I did save your hand from getting infected and needing to be amputated later. If you’re thankful for that maybe you’ll take me up on my dinner offer,” he says, your hand still in his.
You laugh, “isn’t that your job?”
He half shrugs. A mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Yeah, but I am really good at my job,” he says.
You roll your eyes, and he lets your hand fall back to your side and he begins to pack up his bag. “Okay,” you say hurriedly.
“Okay?” He questions looking up at you.
“I’ll let you take me to dinner, or I’ll take you to dinner? Or I’ll cook?” You question a little unsure of yourself.
He grins. “I’ll take you to dinner,” he says, before adding with a wink. “Not sure I’d trust your cooking skills yet."
I don't understand how you can choose to vote for Az in the poll😭 I know many want redemption, but he simply doesn't deserve it! Imagine having a partner and living happily with him for years and then a girl comes along who winks at him and he seems to have no bond with his partner, just because there's someone new and fragile. He simply doesn't deserve her and I mean more! I don't see how he could have a "redemption", because even if it showed that he really was helping Elain, the whole way through he acted as if he didn't have anyone to go back to or care about. There's no excuse under any circumstances. And again, Elain and Azriel have their share of the blame for this (although Az has a lot more) since she knew he had a partner and let it happen and he had a partner and gave her the freedom to let this situation unfold.
The reader deserves to be with someone who makes her his first choice, not someone who is her partner but abandons her for another woman. Can you imagine living with that? It's not a question of trusting yourself or him to stay with someone who has left you alone, it's a question of being with someone who has made you a priority from the start, despite the difficulties.
Having said that, I can only reinforce that Azriel doesn't deserve the reader :)
Ah, I'd love her to break up with Cassian. I can't imagine them getting even closer after she has the baby and their feelings blossom, but that's just my imagination.
That's just my opinion on everything and the ending is more of a delulu part of me :)
The one shot is in canon. And in the universe there’s magical elements. So there’s ways that Azriel could have been manipulated…magically….
If I didn’t have an alternative way for reader to get back with Azriel I wouldn’t have put him in the poll. Being bombarded with these messages does not make me want to write a second part, or at all actually.
i'm not surprised azriel is winning the poll but he does NOT deserve her. no amount of grovelling would be enough for abandoning your mate for another woman without any explanation imo
also the first part end with reader saying she was going to choose herself this time so it wouldn't make sense for her to take back azriel
please let anyone but azriel be the endgame 🙏🏻 girlie needs some backbone
If Azriel wins and I decide to write the end for him I have an idea for how “girlie” can still have a backbone.
Your heart aches in your chest as the laughter and the cheerful conversation fills the silence in your mind. You walk past the vendors calling out pricing, trying to get you to stop to admire their word, but your mind is too numb to comprehend as you continue through the crowd. It was better to be alone in your thoughts in a room full of people than alone in a house that used to be full of life.
The house Azriel had built for you in the meadow of wildflowers you had first met him in. When you had been collecting some plants for your apothecary shop, you had felt him before you had seen him. Your eyes looking up between the trees to see his eyes focused on yours.
The plants fell from your hands as you stood up. You felt yourself take a step forward as he pushed his way into the clearing. “It’s you,” he had said. A grin cracking through the stoic features of his face. “I didn’t think I would ever find you.”
You hadn’t believed in ‘mates’ until then. You always thought it was wistful dreams of young girls, wanting someone to fall in love with them at first glance. You thought it was stories passed down through generations. You didn’t believe it until you saw him and knew he was made for you. The tether in your soul pulling you towards him.
You had been inseparable ever since, days turned into weeks which turned into months and soon you had spent hundreds of years by his side. You had been there when Rhysand was taken under the mountain. You had been with Azriel every day mourning the absence of your High Lord. You had been there when he came back. When he saved Feyre from Tamlin. You had been in the healers tent during the war, mending the injured. You had been there when Elain had been made.
You were there when Azriel had made it his mission to protect her, to be there for her, even if that meant abandoning you.
You didn’t realize you had stopped until you felt something push against your side, you refocus your eyes to see a child sprinting away into the crowd of people, two more pushing past you to follow him. “Move along lady! Unless you’re planning to buy something!”
You turn to give the vendor a tight smile, you hadn’t realized you had been blocking his shop. You quickly move on, turning your head as you hear your name being yelled. Feyre waves wildly across the street, a baby Nyx on her hip. The last you had seen him he had just been born now he looked like he was a toddler.
You cross the street as you give Feyre a small smile. “Enjoying the market?” Feyre asks. You hadn’t seen Feyre since it had all ended.
You nod, swallowing tightly. “You look well,” she adds. You knew she was lying. “You should come to the house tonight. We’re having a little get together. Azriel-,” You flinch at the name. “Sorry, um-, he won’t be there. He’s still in Day Court with-,” she stops again. “Sorry.”
You suck in a breath as your chest tightens. He was still in Day Court with Elain. Rhysand had sent Elain to the Day Court to be a diplomat once he realized what was happening. No one had expected Azriel to follow her. Leaving you behind.
“Thank you for the invitation.” You muster up a smile. “I’ll think about it,” you reply. “I should be going.”
She opens her mouth to say something but you quickly disappear into the sea of people.
You stare out the window at the House of Wind, just within earshot of where Mor and Feyre were sitting on the couch. “I didn’t think she would come,” Mor whispers, as you feel her gaze shift to you. “I know you said you invited her, but I didn’t expect her to come. She hasn’t been out since-, well, since he left.”
“I didn’t either,” Feyre retorts.
You pull your shawl tighter around your shoulders, not because you were cold but you felt like you needed protection against their words. “Did she tell you what happened?” Mor asks. Your heart beats loudly against your chest. “Did she say how it ended?”
You sat on the couch, the clock on the wall chiming that it was midnight. Three hours after Azriel had said he would be back. You felt him on the porch moments later, the tug of the bond that didn’t understand why you weren’t standing up to greet him.
The door opens minutes later, Azriel’s hands moving to his leathers to begin unbuckling the weapons on his chest. He startles when he notices you sitting on the couch. “What are you still doing awake?” he asks.
Your brow furrows, the spymaster couldn’t feel your presence? Not even when he had the bond to help him sense where you were? Did he choose to ignore the connection between the two of you? His thoughts so far gone he couldn’t even feel you?
“I was worried,” you say, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “You aren’t normally this late.”
Before Elain he was never late. Before Elain he rushed home to you as quickly as he could. Before Elain, you never doubted his love and loyalties to you.
He shuts the door behind you. The movement of the door sends his scent in your direction. The scent smelled like lilacs and lavender. “You were with her,” you state. He turns towards you, his eyes sorrowful as he nods. “You said you had to patrol the borders for Rhysand,” you continue.
“I did, when I went back to report she was there,” he replies.
You scoff, “You reek of her. You weren’t just near her for a few minutes.”
He swallows tightly. “She needed to speak to me,” he began. “She needed to tell me that Rhysand was sending her to Day Court.”
You frown. “She needed to tell you this? Why? Why did she need to tell someone else’s mate that she was being sent to another court by her High Lord?” you ask.
He runs a hand through his hair. “She’s frightened. She doesn’t want to go alone. She’s not used to this world yet.”
“Then why doesn’t she speak to her High Lady, her sister? Why does it have to be you? She’s been here for years now.”
He shakes his head. “I knew you wouldn’t understand,” he says sharply. You step back as if he had struck you. “I’ve been there for her. Feyre has Rhysand. Nesta has Cassian. She doesn’t have-,”
“And who do I have?” you interject. “Who do I have when you choose her over me? Your mate? The one you have supposedly been in love with for hundreds of years. The one you were planning a future with.”
He lets out a frustrated noise, “You grew up here. You know this world. She doesn’t,” he snaps. “She doesn’t have anyone to look out for her. No one to protect her.”
You feel your shoulders sag, reading between the lines. “You’re going with her.”
Silence fills the air, giving you the answer. He couldn’t even tell you. “Why?” you ask, you voice breaking. “When did it all end? How did it all end?”
He simply shakes his head as he moves toward the bedroom the two of you had shared for years. You hear him packing a bag as you fall back onto the couch.
“I am glad you’re here,” Cassian says, holding out a glass towards you. You smile as you reach for it, looking down at it suspiciously. “It’s non-alcoholic. Don’t worry.”
Your eyes shoot up to meet him as your free hand moves to your abdomen. “How did-,”
“Your scent,” he supplies. “I didn’t smell it at first but it's getting stronger.”
You frown, setting the drink onto the windowsill. You would have to leave before anyone else found out. You had tried to mask it with a potion. Cassian brings a hand to your elbow to stop your movement. “Does he know?”
You shake your head. “No,” you say sharply. “And I want it to stay that way.”
“He would come back if he knew,” Cassian begins.
You nod, you knew that he would. “He made his decision. He was my mate. He would have smelt it on me if he cared. If he took a second to see me, to be present with me. It was always her,” you reply.
Cassian shakes his head as he follows you to the door. “You two were so happy,” he says, more to himself than to you. “I just don’t understand how this happened.”
You swallow, pulling open the door. “If you find out, let me know,” you say, stepping out into the chilly spring air. You glance back at him. “I trust that this will stay between the two of us?”
Cassian’s eyes narrow. You could see the conflict cross his expression before he gives a small nod. “I am still your friend,” he says, “If you need anything at all-,”
You reach out to squeeze his hand. “I know,” you say before letting your hand drop and turning away from him and everyone in the House of Wind. It was time you chose yourself.
Velaris University: Before the secret. . . coming clean (22)
Tagged (lmk if you want to be tagged): @hellodarling1357, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @cassianstannn32, @esahintzkanen, @fireheartviolence
masterlist // cassian fics // previous chapter // next chapter
You bolt upright, startled by the loud crash that echoes through the room. You blink away the sleep in your eyes as you are met with the site of Cassian sprawled out on your floor. Before you can full process his presence, his voice rings out, “Shit, did I wake you? I thought you said you would wait up for me,” he begins, his voice thick with apology.
“I did, I-uh, tried?” you stammer out, trying to gather yoru wits as you fumble for the lamp switch. But as the light flickers on, your hand freezes mid-air as you realize what you’re still clutching- the pregnancy test.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you let your hand drop back under the covers, glancing over at where Cassian was picking up the basket of laundry he had tripped over on his way in. “This isn’t normally here,” he excuses, his cheeks flush red from embarrassment.
Normally, you would stop to admire how cute the scene was. How this tall, broad man who had been forced to crawl through your window almost every night for the last year was now having to pick up everything he had knocked over but the weight of the secret you had been keeping was threatening to suffocate you.
It had been another week at this point but in your defense, you have tried many times to tell him. The first time his mom had interrupted, then the second time Rhysand had barged into Cassian’s room and you had to hide under her bed for two hours, the third time your roommates had come home after a night of drinking and they had stumbled into the living room where Nesta had gotten sick immediately, and then Cassian went away for a game.
“Why are you wearing your hood?” you manage to choke out when you realize you have been quiet for too long.
He looks up at you sheepishly, “Okay. Don’t get mad,” he begins tentatively, and your stomach churns with dread as he stands up. You hold your breath as you wait for him to continue, “So, uh-, I lost a bet and I-,” he reaches forward and pulls the hood away from his head.
Your breath catches in your throat as you gasp, tearing the blankets from you as you rise to your feet. “You cut your hair?” The shock in your voice is palpable.
“You hate it,” he states, his lips curling into a shy smile as he waits for your response.
“No, I don’t hate it. I am just not used to it,” you begin, unable to keep the disappointment out of your voice as you reach out to touch his shortened lock, but catch sight of the test in your hair and begin to lower your hand once more but it’s too late.
Cassian’s eyes narrow as he gently reaches for your wrist and brings it up so he can see what you were holding. “What is this?" he demands, his voice low and strained.
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing with each passing moment. "It's a pregnancy test," you admit, the words barely audible as they leave your lips. You had thought you would feel better once he knew, but this didn’t feel any better.
His eyes narrow in disbelief, his gaze shifting between you and the test in your hand. "Is this the test Rhysand found? The one you told me wasn't yours?" he asks, his voice tinged with accusation.
“I technically didn’t say anything. You were the one who said you knew it wasn’t mine,” you say, a sad attempt at a joke. He doesn’t laugh. You can feel the tears prickling behind your eyes. This wasn’t how you wanted this to come out. You should have rehearsed something to say instead of deciding to take it.
He takes the test from your hand and examines it under the light, his silence echoing louder than any words could. When he finally looks back at you, his expression is a mix of devastation and disbelief. "It's positive," he states, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, your throat constricting with the weight of unspoken words.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" his voice cracks with emotion as he confronts you, his hand tightening around the test.
You stumble over your words, desperately trying to explain yourself, but his accusatory gaze holds you captive. "I... I wanted to, but..." you trail off, your voice breaking as tears begin to stream down your cheeks. “I wanted to tell you that night but then you said you knew it wasn’t me because I would have told you, so I could tell you then-,”
Cassian takes a step back, his eyes filled with a pain that cuts deeper than any physical wound. "So, it's my fault you lied to me? Kept this from me?" he accuses, his words like a dagger to your already wounded heart.
You shake your head frantically, the guilt weighing heavy on your shoulders. "No, no, it's not like that," you protest, but your words fall on deaf ears. “I tried a few more times. That day your mom showed up. I wanted to tell you then. I tried a few more times, but then I went to the student health center and saw a nurse who had me take a test, which was negative. She also did a blood test which was negative. It was a false positive.”
Cassian blinks at you. You continue rambling, “I am not pregnant. We can go back-,”
He shakes his head, his expression hardens as he leans against the windowsill, his gaze fixed on the test in his hands. "You didn't even think to tell me before going to the doctors?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper, but each word carries the weight of his disappointment.
You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling the chasm between you widening with each passing moment. "I tried... I wanted to tell you, but..." you struggle to find the right words, but they elude you.
Cassian's resolve crumbles before your eyes, his features contorted with a mixture of anger and anguish. "I need to leave. I need to think," he declares, his voice hollow with betrayal as he turns away from you.
You watch him exit through the window. “Cassian, please,” you begin, but he’s already gone. With trembling hands, you sink onto the edge of your bed, feeling the tears spill freely down your cheeks. Your shoulder shakes from silent sobs.
Feeling numb and hollow, you drag yourself to the bathroom, shutting the doors before you let the sound of your sobs echo off the tiled walls. You lean against the sink, turning on the facet you splash cool water against your skin. You take a shaky breath after the sobs stop and open your bathroom door to find your phone so you can text him an apology.
You startled when you see Cassian sitting on the edge of your bed, his eyes rimmed with red as he looks over at you. His shoulders rise and fall before he says, "I shouldn't have left. I was hurt and scared, but I shouldn't have left. I'm sorry," he says, his voice raw with emotion.
Your heart clenches at the sight of his pain, and you shake your head in protest. "You have nothing to apologize for, Cass. I'm the one who's sorry," you say, taking a hesitant step towards him.
He shifts to make room for you beside him, and you sink down onto the mattress, the weight of his presence comforting yet bittersweet. "I should have told you, but it all happened so fast," you explain, your voice trembling with guilt. "I realized I was late in class and stopped to get a test on my way to your place. I didn't mean to cut you out of it."
His expression softens as you sit beside him. He reaches forward to grab your hand with his and squeezes it reassuringly. “I know you didn’t,” he begins. You shift under the weight of his stare. “I am upset that you waited two weeks to tell me, but I am more upset that you had to go through it alone.”
You swallow hard, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "I wasn't alone, Cassian," you assure him, but his reaction gives you pause.
His expression freezes, a hint of insecurity creeping into his voice as he meets your gaze. "You told your roommates?" he asks, his tone laced with uncertainty.
You shake your head, reaching out to cup his cheek in your hand. "No, sorry, I meant that I knew you were there for me even if you didn't know," you explain, shifting to face him fully. "I knew it wouldn't change anything."
"But you thought you were pregnant, and I didn't know," he states, his voice heavy with regret. “I should have been with you waiting for the test. I should have been with you at the doctor's appointment. I want to be with you, for everything, you know that right?”
Cassian's words sink in, you feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. "I do, and I'm sorry. I should have told you sooner," you admit, your voice wavering with regret.
Cassian's gaze softens, his hand reaching up to brush away a stray tear from your cheek. "I understand, love. But next time, please don't shut me out. We're in this together, remember?" he says, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance.
You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you lean into his touch. You feel him kick off his shoes before he scoots back against your pillows. You curl tighter into his chest. "I promise, Cass. From now on, no more secrets," you vow, your heart swelling with gratitude for his understanding.
A small smile tugs at the corners of Cassian's lips, and he pulls you into a gentle embrace. "I love you," he whispers against your hair, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul.
Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, you hold him tight, savoring the warmth of his embrace. "I love you too, Cassian," you whisper back, your voice filled with love and gratitude.
Velaris University: Before the secret. . . Parenting Scare (21)
Tagged (lmk if you want to be tagged): @hellodarling1357, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @cassianstannn32, @esahintzkanen, @fireheartviolence
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You shift from foot to foot, the weight of the pregnancy test in your jacket pocket like a brick weighing you down. You had kept this secret from Cassian for over a week and it was beginning to tear you up inside. You lift a hand to ring his doorbell when the door swings open on its own.
Cassian looks at you surprised. “Hey, I thought I was meeting you tonight,” he says, his eyes narrowing as they scan your face, taking in your worried expression. “Are you okay?”
You clear your throat, “Oh, um, I am okay,” you reply as you glance down at his athlete attire. Your brow furrowed in confusion, you thought you had his schedule practically memorized at this point. “Do you have practice?”
He shakes his head, “I was just going to go for a run, but I don’t have to. It’s technically a rest day for me,” he swings the door open as he steps back to allow you to step through.
“I can just see you tonight-,” you begin as he shuts the door behind you.
He takes a step towards you, pinning you back to the now closed door. “Nah, I’d rather hang out with you,” he says with a smile closing the distance as he kisses you softly. “Was there a reason for you stopping by? Your dad sent me that pasta recipe he was talking about on the phone and I have all the ingredients.”
He begins to pull away but you reach a hand out, clasping the fabric on his shirt to keep him where was as your other hand moves to the test in your pocket. You take a deep breath, you need to just rip off the bandaid and tell him. The guilt was beginning to be too much and the longer you waited the worst it would be.
“So you’re not okay,” he says slowly, “You’re starting to scare me. Whats-,”
He pauses and your hand stops when there's a sharp knock on the door behind you. Cassian groans, stepping away from you. “It’s probably someone just trying to sell something,” he says, his eyes staying locked on yours. “Now-,”
The person on the other side begins ringing the doorbell consistently. He runs a hand over his face before looking to the side, opening the door before looking back at you. “Incase it’s Gwyn or one of them forgot their keys,” he says.
You nod in understanding as you hide in the closet, curious as to why he would assume Gwyn could be the one on the other side of the door. You peer out the crack of the door, as Cassian opens the front door.
“Cassie Baby!” a loud and feminine voice yells. Your heart drops into your stomach as you watch the surprise expression on Cassian’s features. You raise your eyebrows, was this another girl that he had a fling with? How exactly were you supposed to tell him about the test now? “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to let me in?”
You swear his eyes flicker to the coat closet before he looks back. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice dropping so you had to strain to hear.
“Is that anyway to treat your mother?” the voice says. Your mouth drops in surprise. “I drove all the way here for you to turn me away at the door. What kind of son are you? I thought you would be happy to see me.”
Cassian reluctantly steps to the side as she pushes her way into the foyer. He wished that he could shield you from ever having to meet her. Not after meeting your family and seeing how a real family ought to be. Would you think he would end up like her? Would you leave him because of it?
“It’s nice to see you’re still alive. I haven’t heard from you since my seventeenth birthday when you were supposedly getting married in vegas,” he retorts drily.
She ignores him, her back to Cassian as she looks around the place. “Nice house you got here. Surprise you can afford it,” she retorts.
Cassian ignores the rage filling him. He ignores the remark and instead asks, “Did you bring my new step-daddy? What is he… the fourth? fifth?”
She scoffs as she turns towards him, Cassian frowns at the mixture of weed, smoke, and tacky perfume wafting from her. He hoped it wouldn’t reach you. She frowns, “I didn’t raise you to have an attitude, Cassian.”
“You didn’t raise me at all,” Cassian snaps. His elementary school best friend's parents took him while she drank herself to sleep every night until their house was taken by the bank and they were thrown out onto the street. His mother promptly married her supplier, leaving Cassian to crash at the school until Rhysand’s mother found out.
He still remembers that day, thinking he was getting in trouble when Rhysands mom knelt in front of him after catching him heading to the gymnasium with a sleeping bag under his arm. He had begged her to not tell the office. She had ruffled his hair gently and said, “You’re not in trouble, Cassian. You’ve got a bunk bed in Rhysand’s room with your name on it. And It’s pizza night, we gotta be quick if we want a slice.”
That’s where he had stayed until he moved here. His mom only sent him an occasional text and then started dropping by randomly for money for her next fix when he was old enough to get a job.
“So, what are you doing that landed you here?” she asks, her eyes narrowing at him. “You’re not caught up in any messy business, huh? I worked hard to keep you out of that world.”
Cassian swallows, he couldn’t fight with her today. He didn’t have the energy. His mind was too preoccupied with the worried expression that had grazed your face when you came in earlier. You were his priority, his focus. “Just cut to the chase, mom. What do you want?”
She humphs, crossing her arms. “Well,” she says, popping her gum loudly. “I was going to ask you if you could spare me a couple hundred to keep me to Barcelona-,”
“Barcelona?” Cassian retorts incredulously. She had the audacity to come ask him for money to leave the country?
She nods, “I psychic told me that I would find love there, but now-,” she raises her hands and gestures around. “I am thinking I should crash here for a while. How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“No,” Cassian says, immediately paling. Rhysand and Azriel knew about his mother but you didn’t know anything until now and this wasn’t even the worst of it. He would never let his mother know about you, that there was another way to get to him. He would never let you see his mother at her finest, strung up and drunk.
“No?” She repeats slowly. “You’re going to say no to your mother? When she’s in need?”
Cassian shakes his head. “This isn’t my place, I’ll give you your money but you aren’t staying. Go find love in Barcelona,” he replies, moving past her to head down the hall to find his wallet.
She grabs his arm, her fake nails piercing into his forearm. “You’re going to throw your mother out onto the street?” she gasps. Cassian shakes her free and she falls back into the wall, gasping as she says, “You’re just like your father, laying your hands on me.”
His childhood floods his memories as he stands frozen, his mother continuing to yell, “You ungrateful brat! You know he never loved you, though I cheated on him. Thought there was no way that you could be his.”
The arguing and the yelling. He felt like he was drowning in the memories. “I gave you all my love and it was wasted on you, you undeserving-,”
He’s pulled out from the memories when a familiar voices cuts through the yelling, grounding him back to reality.
You had had enough of leaning against the closet door, listening to his mother berate him for not opening his home to her when she had come here for money. She hadn’t even asked him how he was doing. You watched as Cassian froze, his features locked into an expression of panic. You burst through the door before you had thought out a plan, “Don’t talk to him like that,” you snap, stepping to stand in front of Cassian.
His mother's mouth drops as she takes a step back, her eyes looking you up and down as if seizing you up. You stood your ground as you felt Cassian’s hand slip into yours.
His mother laughs as she looks down at your interlocked fingers. You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Oh, honey,” she says, smacking her lips at you and shaking her head with pity. “He’s going to grow up to be just like his dad and you’re going to end up just like me. You don’t love him so you might as well get out now.”
“Yes, I do,” you reply without thinking, not having the patience to deal with her.
She raises an eyebrow. “You do what?” she asks.
“Love him,” you retort, turning to look at Cassian who was staring down at you with wide eyes. “I love you.”
His surprise expression quickly softens as he smiles down at you, his lips tilting upward a new sparkle in his eye as he opens his mouth to reply but his mom’s voice cuts through the moment, “Please, honey, you’re just his newest whore. He’s going to use you and loose-,”
Cassian’s expression shifts to one of anger. “That’s enough,” he snaps, moving to the door and opening it. He points out the door. “I’ll let you yell at me and call me names but you will not talk to her like that.”
Her mouth widens as she looks between the two of you. “But-, but my ticket. You were going to go grab your wallet,” she quickly says trying to backtrack as he puts hand on her shoulder and guides her out of the house. “Cassian, you won’t do this to me.”
“I am not doing anything to you. You did this all yourself,” Cassian snaps, “If I see you again I am getting a restraining order.”
His mother begins to interject but Cassian shuts the door. You watch him as he leans his head against the door. “I am sorry if I overstepped,” you begin, swallowing tightly. “I mean, I am not sorry for stepping in but I am sorry if you didn’t want me too.”
You watch as his shoulders rise and fall, shuddering with every breath. “Are you mad?” you ask.
He turns towards you and reaches forward to pull you into his chest. “No, I am not mad at all. Thank you,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Whenever she’s around, I just get pulled back into my childhood and I freeze. Thank you for stepping in.”
You nod into his chest as he holds you tightly. There's a long stretch of silence before he finally asks softly, “Did you mean it?”
You pull away just enough to be able to look up at him. “That I love you?” you question. He nods, a little unsure of himself. “Of course I meant it. I love you, Cassian. I have for a while.”
He grins. “I love you too,” he replies easily, his lips spreading into a grin that has your heart rate increasing. “I’ve probably been in love with you for longer.”
You roll your eyes. “This doesn’t need to be a competition,” you reply. He tilts his head curiously at you as you continue, “because I said it first, that immediately makes me the winner.”
He sighs, “Want to watch a movie or something? I could use some comedic relief after the drama,” he says and you nod your head. He moves down the hall before pausing and looking back at you, “Wait. You came over to tell me something? It’s nothing bad, right? I don’t think I could handle anything else.”
You swallow tightly before mustering up a smile. “Oh, it was nothing, I don’t even remember,” you reply.
“If you remember, let me know,” he says before turning and heading into the living room. You reach into your pocket, pulling out the pregnancy test and staring down at it. You could wait one more day to tell him.
