Summary: You're confused, angry, then confused again. Oh, and sore. Very, very sore.
Warnings: dub-con as fuck, smut, mind manipulation, forced mating bond acceptance (lemme know if I missed somethin)
Words: idk on my phone again lol
Author's Notes: I hope you guys like this ooone I'll come back and edit it some after work but I neeeded to get this out to you guyssss I worked on it at midnight last night and then from 6:30 to now 😂 lemme know what you think!
18+ only pls
🩵💜🤍💙❤️
Soft light poured through the trees above you, orange, red and gold leaves adorning them. A few fluttered to the ground, one of them tickling your nose before falling to the earth and eliciting a soft laugh from you.
Your hands were interlaced with two others, and sneaky glances out of the corners of your eyes revealed them.
Your... What were they again?
You scrunched your forehead in confusion, your left hand receiving a gentle squeeze a moment later.
"Are you alright, little flame?" You turned your head to look at him, eyes meeting warm amber, red hair covering the earth beneath him.
"Of course," you said lightly, pushing away the sinking feeling that something was wrong.
"You want to get married, don't you?" The female next to you sighed, tugging on your hand lightly. Her skin was glowing brightly, tiny flames burning at the ends of her hair. "I always knew this day would come, but I don't want you to. I'll miss my baby girl so much," she cooed, brushing a hand filled with tiny, swirling flames over your cheek, the heat tickling your skin. "You should stay at the cottage with me forever."
"I won't go anywhere, mama, I promise," you reassured her. "Besides, who would I marry?" you giggled, trying to think of any males that you knew-
"Breakfast time!" a voice yelled, pulling you from your dream. "Mother, how are you still asleep, Y/N?" The tall one- Cassian- said, the mattress beneath you shifting, and you felt a weight hovering over you. "Does your head still hurt?" he whispered, letting a thumb brush over your temple.
There was still a dull ache behind your eyes, but you felt... better? Still foggy, though, like you were wading through mud in your mind.
"Not too much," you whispered softly, a happy thrill tugging against your heart-
Leading you straight to him.
Three other golden strings were tied to your heart, each of them pulsing gently in time with your heartbeat.
Your mates.
"Good, good. Let's get you to the kitchen, baby girl," Cassian said, pulling himself off of you, a chill running up your spine with the absence of his warmth. He stood and scooped you out of the bed, a surprised squeak leaving your lips. His long legs carried the two of you swiftly to the door, and you pinched his arm gently.
"I'd like to wear something," you said when he stopped to look down at you, hazel eyes worried for a moment before softening.
"Of course, baby. I know just the thing," Cassian said when he set you on your feet carefully. He went into the closet, coming back a moment later with a giddy smile on his face. He held up a large maroon t-shirt, sliding it over your arms and letting it fall over your body, the hem resting an inch above your knees. "You look even more perfect," he sighed happily before lifting you into his arms again.
The hallways all blurred together, each turn only making you more confused-
If you lived here, shouldn't you... remember your home?
Unease gnawed at your stomach, setting you on edge as Cassian brought you into the kitchen, your other mates busy setting the table for breakfast.
"Good morning, Y/N!" Feyre squealed, dropping the cutlery she was holding to the table before beelining towards you, prying you from Cassian's arms so you were standing. Her arms encircled you tightly, your mate scenting your neck deeply before pulling away. "Are you hungry, love? We made your favorite- pancakes!"
Your brow furrowed. Pancakes weren't your favorite, muffins were-
Suddenly you remembered trying Azriel's pancakes for the first time, declaring that they were your favorite breakfast food from now on through a mouthful of them. The memory sent a sharp pain to the base of your skull, your slight wince of pain noticed by all four of your mates.
"Is your head hurting you, darling?" Rhys asked knowingly, as if you'd already confirmed it. You felt a distinct pressure in your head for a moment, your confusion at the sensation disappearing a moment later. "Sit and eat, it will make you feel better."
Four pairs of hands fussed over you, pushing your chair in carefully. Your plate was piled high with pancakes and fruit, plenty of blueberry syrup poured over the fluffy stack.
Cassian had gleefully stolen your silverware, cutting each bite and feeding it to you, taking bites of his own while you were chewing.
Rhys, Feyre and Azriel were discussing something to do with the Hewn City- where that was, you had no clue.
In fact... you had no clue where you were.
You were halfway through your plate when the memory hit you again-
Your nose was plugged by two strong fingers, your chin held in place by a large hand.
"Open up, and you can breathe again," Feyre said, waving a forkful of pancakes in front of you. "Come on, for your mate? Please?" You narrowed your eyes at her, trying to convey that you would never eat something from any of them-
But you ran out of air before the message was understood, and the moment you opened your mouth to take a breath, the food was shoved into your mouth. A hand clamped over your mouth, and paired with the fingers still pinching your nose, you had no choice but to chew.
Tying you to them forever.
You stood up abruptly, only managing to turn to the doorway you'd come through before you were restrained, hands pinned behind your back and a large, tanned hand holding you against Cassian's stomach.
"Oh, no, little love," Feyre said darkly. "You're not going anywhere. You're our mate, remember?"
You shook your head, wiggling in the Illyrian's hold. "I didn't choose to accept the bond! You forced me to!" You insisted, fighting hard against the iron grip keeping you still.
"Because you don't know what you want, darling," Rhys stated simply. "But we know exactly what you want."
"What I want is to go home!"
"And where is that?" The question came from Azriel, who had been silent until now. His hazel eyes were dark as they roved over your body before locking with yours. "The only place you belong is here."
You shook your head, trying to remember what your home looked like but-
There was nothing.
You couldn't remember where you'd grown up, what hobbies you enjoyed, childhood friends, even your parents- all of it sat on the edge of your mind, slipping through your fingers when you tried to reach for it.
Cool fingers met your cheeks, bringing your attention back to the four people keeping you captive.
"How about we let Cassian show you just how much you belong here, hm?" Feyre asked, blue-grey eyes staring at you intently. You weren't sure what she meant, but you were certain you didn't want to. Without wasting a second you were pulled through the fabric of the world for a moment, the three of you landing in the bedroom you'd woken up in.
Panic started growing in your chest, your breathing quickening-
It was snuffed out, leaving you sitting on Cassian's lap, one hand moving up from your waist to knead your breast, the other snaking down between your legs, lifting the fabric of your borrowed shirt-
You glared at Feyre, not entirely sure why you were so upset, but the playful smile on her lips had some of it melting away.
"See, little love? You belong with us," she said softly, a hand cupping your cheek so, so gently. "Don't you agree?"
Cassian's fingers dipped between your folds, a groan vibrating against your neck. "Sweet girl, so wet for your mates," he murmured against your skin, gently biting down before laving at the hurt.
"If you play around with her too long, Cassian, maybe Azriel or I should show her who she belongs to," Rhys said. Your eyes fluttered open, you hadn't even realized they'd fallen shut, and now you had three witnesses as Cassian growled, pulling you tighter to his chest.
"Don't even dare," he hissed. "What do you think, baby? Can you take me without preparation?" Your brow furrowed in confusion, but it was short lived as Cassian stood, turned around and deposited you on the bed, his pants shoved from his hips.
Your eyes widened at the sight of his cock, the head of it red and leaking precum, and entirely too large for you to take.
"Oh, don't doubt yourself like that darling," Rhys smirked. "You've taken Cassian countless times, you'll be fine."
"Maybe a bit sore," Azriel chuckled.
Two thick fingers pushed into you, stretching you quickly as your eyes watched Cassian, his own darkened with desire. A satisfied grin slipped over his lips at the squelching noise they made, heat covering your cheeks. You tried lifting your hands to cover your face, only for them to be pinned to the bed gently, Feyre and Rhys smirking on either side of you.
"This is your punishment for thinking you don't belong here, with your mates darling," Rhys cooed, brushing his free hand against your cheeks. "There will be no hiding your pleasure from the four of us today."
You pouted at him, only for Cassian to curl his fingers just so, a pleasured sigh leaving your lips instead. He chuckled before pulling them out, using the slick on them to coat his cock. Just the sight of him running his hand over it had butterflies fluttering in your stomach, knowing he'd be inside of you in just a moment-
But you had been angry, right...? What had you been angry-
Cassian pushed into you slowly, the stretch of the first inch burning, and you tried to back away, tried to get some space-
"Ah, ah," Cassian said, pinning your hips with his hands. "No running away from us, sweet mate." Inch by inch, he forged his way inside of you, the stretch leaving you with no room to breathe by the time he'd seated himself fully inside of you.
You were gasping, your hands curled into the sheets as you tried to breathe, tried to adjust to the size of him stretching you so completely, but there was no getting used to it, especially once he started moving.
The hard and fast pace he set had you gasping with each thrust, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix every few times, pain melding with pleasure. Two fingers slipped over your clit in time with Cassian's movements, building you up higher, higher higher-
You came with a cry, walls quivering around Cassian as you squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed at the pleasure still being thrust into you. Cassian groaned, falling forward to lave at your neck as he emptied himself inside of you.
You felt stretched beyond belief, tenderness already blossoming when his cock twitched inside of you, a whimper leaving your lips.
"Cass, get off of her, she's learned her lesson. Right, darling?" Rhys said expectantly.
You weren't sure what they were talking about, but you nodded your head anyways. Anything to lessen the pressure inside of you-
Cassian pulled out reluctantly, pressing a kiss to your lips before getting up completely. "I'll go grab a cloth, alright love?"
You didn't care what he did as you rolled onto your right side, curling into a ball and wincing at how sore you felt already, the small about of preparation he'd done doing little to stop the pain blooming inside of you.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic little love," Feyre giggled. "You love the feeling of being sore after sex, remember?"
Memory after memory hit you of you reveling in the feeling left behind by your mates, curling into Feyre's side as she held you gently while the boys cleaned you up.
Hi omg sorry yes Cassian x Azriel x Reader, poly dark because you do it so so so well 😭😭😭😭😭😭🙈🙈🙈🙈💕💕💕💕
time is running out
Azriel x Reader x Cassian
Summary: Maybe she shouldn’t have ignored the warning signs, because a familiar nightmare appeared in front of her.
Warnings: dark/possessive cassian and azriel (they are a bit unhinged), stalking, violence, threats of violence
A/N: thank you for requesting it! I might do a part two
She felt them constantly, and would always spot shadows that seemed to be acting strange, that’s the only way she could describe it.
Everyone probably thought she was insane for turning them down the first time they approached her. Maybe that was her mistake, because they seemed to delight in showing up in places she least expected. The chase was probably enough for them and they stalked her everywhere. Not a day went by when she didn’t see them, or have a note appear in her kitchen or pinned to her door. Places they shouldn’t have been able to get to, and a reminder of her vulnerability. Over the last few months, she’d moved houses no less than four times. Even leaving Velaris for a secluded city in the far north of the Night Court - a largely populated one, a place she was hoping she could slip under the radar. If she could leave for another Court, she would have but it was nearly impossible.
The first time she’d gone out in her new home, a week after moving there, she found a nightclub - somewhere to drink and forget about her current situation, she let a male dance with her, even kissed him in a dark corner. The next morning, a drawing was on her kitchen table. One of his likenesses, and a particularly ominous note.
Next time you let someone touch you, it won’t be a drawing - we’ll leave their head on your table. She sprinted to the restroom and threw up everything from the previous day. The worst part is she believed them, and couldn’t have any deaths on her conscience.
A week later, apparently they grew tired of waiting for her to agree.
Work hadn’t been too difficult to find and she was employed in a bookstore. She would open every morning, avoiding any dark hours. Nights were spent locked up in her apartment, sleep evading her and nightmares of heads lined up on her counter filling every sleeping moment. Tonics did little, she would always wake up with the image in her mind - as if it slipped in right when the medicine wore off. She would have to wean herself off soon, it wouldn’t do to have an addiction to them. Y/n never understood how people became addicted to them in the first place, but now she did.
She was lost in her thoughts as she walked the familiar path back home on muscle memory.
Danger, danger, danger, pricked the back of her mind - on repeat like a familiar record or melody. Then again, it was always present no matter the situation. It haunted her day in and out and she was skittish at the best of times. Always armed, even if she would be useless against the two warriors.
Maybe she shouldn’t have ignored the warning signs, because a familiar nightmare appeared in front of her, grabbed her before she could react and winnowed her to some location she didn’t know, right into a room where Cassian was waiting.
With an ear-piercing scream, y/n shrugged him off and ran to the door, jiggling the handle. Locked. She cursed under her breath before taking a deep breath in and turning to them.
“What the hell?” Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the furniture. Azriel was a few feet away from her, Cassian a pace or two behind him.
“Welcome home.” The smile on Cassian’s face was genuine. Home? Absolutely not.
“You’re both insane.” She hissed at them. Azriel gripped her chin harshly, anger flaring in him. She flinched, but couldn’t move, not with the tight grip he had on her. Shadow wrapped around her wrists. They didn’t restrain her, but only reminded her she was at his mercy, at both of theirs. If they truly wanted her there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Maybe they’d grow tired of her one day and toss her to the side. She’d never been particularly religious but she prayed for it.
Y/n thought of the last note left pinned to her door with a knife, just yesterday.
Time is running out love, you’ll be coming home soon.
There had been similar threats before, telling her she was testing their patience.
“Care to repeat that?” Azriel raised his brows, taunting and daring her.
“Fuck you.”
“Oh you will,” Cassian’s voice floated over her shoulder, and the resounding smirk on Azriel’s face pissed her off. Enough that she tried to do something absolutely stupid. Y/n spit directly in his face. He didn’t react immediately, but she saw the drops glisten on his face, the sun hitting them directly like an omen.
Instead, he laughed. He fucking laughed. “I knew you had fire in you.”
The shadows disappeared, and so did his grip. He turned his back to her, moving closer towards Cassian. Probably discussing what the hell to do with her. The door was still locked, but there was a window. They made three mistakes.
One, underestimating her.
Two, turning their backs to her.
Three, not taking her knives off of her.
She palmed the fighting knives - two of them. Enough to cause a distraction and maybe hit them if she’s lucky. Y/n didn’t really want to kill them, maybe she’d get to that point one day. The knives launched towards non-lethal spots, and her magic shattered the glass window. She didn’t hesitate to leap out, even on the second story,
“What the fuck?” Cassian’s voice roared from inside.
Her feet hit the ground, her knees impacting, and she sprinted for the gate, leaping over obstacles, a shield behind her, and as soon as she was out of range, she winnowed - throwing her middle finger up behind her.
-
They heard the whoosh and reacted quickly enough the knives didn’t hit them, but they couldn’t stop her as the glass broke and she sprinted.
Maybe they could’ve caught up with her but Cassian was still shocked at her pure nerve. She’d never shown that she had any magic beyond the normal Fae kind.
Azriel was staring at the spot she disappeared from, his eyes narrowed.
His filter disappeared as he muttered the words, “are you turned on as well?”
The other male shot him a look that said ‘are you serious?’ But didn’t confirm or deny it.
Dark!Poly!BatBoys x sex-worker!reader: Pleasure over Morals[***]
A/N: you’re going to want to settle down for this one. Grab a mug of tea, or some hot chocolate, or whatever your chosen comfort drink is, sit down, and get comfortable <3
Warnings: dubcon, reader having a CNC kink, dark content, implied use of force, implied disregard for safe-words, slight non-con in places, bondage, oral (everyone recieving), smut, degradation, masturbation, slight predator play, rough sex, 22.6k words
-Chapter 2-
——————————————————————————————————————————————
“It’s great, Az. It’s just—…” you cut yourself off, reconsidering your words.
He raises a brow in question and you wince. “I’m not sure how much is appropriate for you to hear… I don’t want to be too T.M.I., you know?” He gives you a mildly incredulous look, as if to say he really doesn’t care about any of that. You narrow your brows at him, returning the look of disbelief, “just checking… Better safe than sorry, Az.”
He just rolls his eyes, but continues listening from the opposite sofa in the House of Wind’s library.
He’s stretched out just as you are, the arm of the furniture supporting his lower back while his wings curve over it comfortably. His long legs are crossed at the ankle, resting at the far end of the sofa.
You nestle further into the cushions, surrounding yourself in that familiar coziness. “It’s just, it sometimes gets a bit…tedious.” He gives you a look that encourages you to go on. You sigh, giving out. “I don’t know…It’s just, I’ve been doing this for, what? A couple of centuries now? And at first, it was really fun. Great, even. I got to make a living off using my body, and it felt amazing. I know inner beauty and all that, but to actually experience people willing to hand their money over to touch me, it was incredible. And then when I started getting a steady flow of customers, who continuously came back? Choosing me? Trusting me with their pleasure?” You sigh again, while Azriel listens intently.
“Obviously there were a few scary moments, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and it was always taken care of, thanks to the strict laws here to protect people like me. That Rhys implemented—bless him.” Your eyes shut for a moment as you steady your breathing, trying not to get too frustrated.
“It’s just that after a while…I need more. I have a fair few customers I enjoy seeing. We work well together and they know the business, they don’t try to take advantage of me, or anyone else they see—to my knowledge. But recently…” you rub your temples, considering the merits of venting, getting caught up in a rant when you know you should be grateful you’re getting to live your life how you want without any particular repercussions.
“It’s fine,” Azriel speaks gently from the sofa, “you can tell me. I won’t think you’re being arrogant or unthankful or any of that nonsense.” You give him a look of appreciation. He shrugs it off, nonchalant as always, as if he doesn’t realise how much he helps. How wonderful he is to you.
“Fine,” you laugh, “if you promise not to think I’m an ungrateful bitch.” He shoots you a disapproving look. You wave him off, finally letting all that past irritation bubble up to the surface.
“It’s just, there’ve been more and more males coming in, who just don’t get it. Thinking they’re entitled to treat me and the girls wrong because they’ve paid for us, as if we don’t deserve the usual bedroom etiquette, like we’re below that basic decency, or something,” you snap. “Do you know how many males I’ve had come in, saying that they’re edgy, or hard, or they give out warnings, boasting about how un-vanilla they are but refuse to do anything else aside from choking or missionary?”
You could swear the edges of Azriel’s mouth kick upward as amusement dances in his hazel gaze. You huff in annoyance. “It’s not even bad if you are vanilla! Do what you want as long as it’s safe, but bragging and boasting about something like that can lead to some serious problems down the line,” you fume. “A male came in a couple of weeks ago who said he was pretty traditional and didn’t want anything too intense, so he got assigned to one of the sweeter girls, and then slapped her straight across the face—without once mentioning any tastes for impact play!”
You grit your teeth in annoyance, “how dense do you have to be to do something like that? The poor girl was so stunned it took a her a moment or two to use her safe-word, and the male had the audacity to yell at her for it.” The words come out as a growl. “Seriously, there’s a reason we ask for a list of preferences and kinks along with experience and fetishes. So nobody ends up getting wrongly assigned and so shit like that doesn’t happen.”
You inhale a calming breath, soothing yourself. The girl had been alright, in the end, though she’d been shaky and had been given paid leave for a couple of days to recover. Azriel’s eyes had shifted to a colder shade at the story. “Anything like that happened to you recently?”
“Aside from some small hiccups here and there, no. I’ve been fine…” you trail off, mind wandering elsewhere.
He shifts on the sofa, “what is it?”
You open your mouth, then hesitate. His attention narrows on you—it’s not often you shy from telling him things. “I’ve actually… I’ve been considering quitting.”
His brow knits together, “why? I thought you said you enjoy your work?”
“I do…” you admit, tension draining from your body. “It’s just been becoming a bit monotonous. Same old same old. If not quitting, then a vacation of some kind. Go out and find someone for myself, who’ll make me feel alive again. Someone who’ll…take an interest.”
Azriel opens his mouth to speak when a figure pushes the door open.
You smile, setting your mug down on the small table, swinging your legs off the chaise to make room for Rhys as he nods to Az. He settles beside you, an arm over the back—behind your shoulders—as he presses a quick kiss to your neck in greeting.
“You look exhausted,” you comment.
Indeed, he’s lounging on the other end of the chaise, slumping into the pillows, head tipped back as he groans, legs parted. He rights his position, “long day. Lot of work.” You offer him a sympathetic look, holding out your mug of tea that you’ve been drinking from. He takes it gratefully, finishing it off, before vanishing it into the air.
“Is it a lot of work, or are you refusing to let anyone help you again?” You ask pointedly, knowing his habits. He shoots you a lazy grin, one that’s designed to charm, and seduce, “I’d gladly accept your kind of help.” You roll your eyes, but can’t help the wave of relief that eases through you at the casual flirtation. It’s soothing.
“Anytime you fancy a roll in the sheets, High Lord, you know where to find me,” you drawl back, making him laugh, low and deep. Azriel watches intently, noting that gleam in your eyes as you trace the roll of Rhys’ throat. “I might have to take you up on that offer one of these days,” he chuckles.
“What scheming were you two up to?” Rhys inquires, eyes jumping between you and Azriel. You shrug, casually, “just catching up on life, in general. What’s going on and such.”
“Oh?” His violet gaze dances to yours in question.
You sigh, “I’m considering a vacation, is all.” Rhysand’s brow raises, opening his mouth to speak, no doubt to offer some suggestions, but Azriel beats him to it.
“More than a vacation.” He eyes you from across the room. “You were considering leaving permanently.” You shoot him a look, but sigh. “I love my work, but it’s becoming monotonous,” you explain to Rhys, summarising your conversation.
“How so?” He asks, already giving you his attention.
“Stop it, Rhys,” you chastise, lips quirking up. “I can see you scheming from here. It’s not a problem with my workplace, nothing like that. It’s just…I don’t know…” Your eyes trail back to Azriel’s unsurely.
You sigh heavily, “it’s getting boring. It’s not as exciting as it used to be. I’m not getting that…that spark. It’s the same thing over and over again, and I’m just…needing more.” You grunt, allowing your head to rest against Rhys’s arm.
“Needing more what?”
You perk up when you hear Cassian’s voice from the entrance as he pushes through the doorway. A grin blossoms across your lips as you take the male in.
He walks into the room, but instead of going to Az’s sofa, he stops by you, reaching down to pick you up as he sometimes does. Not that you mind. You’ve always enjoyed physical comfort, just like him. It’s a mutual understanding between the two of you. Which is why when he takes your seat, and sets you sideways on his lap, you settle into him comfortably.
One arm loops around your waist, keeping you still, while the other rests over your thigh. Your own arm snakes over his shoulder as you lean back against the chaise. You stretch out, legs crossing in Rhys’ lap, where one of his large hands wraps over your ankle, fingers grazing the bare skin.
“Thinking of quitting my job,” you summarise, knowing there’s no avoiding this conversation. Cassian looks like he’s about to ask more though, so you divert, “more importantly,” you emphasise, levelling a glare at the High Lord, “Rhys is overworking himself again.” Cassian joins you in your glaring, the Shadowsinger just watching with amusement.
“We’ve established that I’m fine. Especially granted access to your services,” he replies, giving you that easy grin. It switches into a look of contemplation. “Would you be halting all work, or do you think you’ll continue seeing some clients here and there?”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” you answer honestly. “But hold on, how have you all been? I want to know what you’re all up to.”
A tense silence fills the air, and you cringe. “That bad?”
As usual, Rhys fills the gap with and easy smile, “I think all three of us will be requesting your attention by the week’s end.” You roll your eyes, but smile with him, vaguely thankful for the reprieve from that tension. Cassian—bless him—joins in. “Is that what you meant about needing more, huh?” He squeezes your waist and you jolt, a startled laugh coming from your from the sensitive press. “Want all three of us?”
You don’t have time to properly think through his question—offer?—before the Azriel diverts, “do you take multiple clients as once?” You peer over at him, settling back against the solid warmth of Cassian’s chest as you shrug, “sometimes.” You swear the two males on the chaise stiffen a little.
“It’s fun, though,” you reassure, trying to lessen the abrupt tension. “Haven’t had a bad experience so far. I think people seem to be more careful about how they act when there’s someone else in the room to remind them of the outside world. But that’s besides the point.” Azriel nods, satisfied with your answer.
“Have you three…?” You venture, carefully. Cassian’s grip tightens over your thigh, causing you to glance at him curiously. He’s watching you intently, pupils a little dilated. But it’s Rhys who replies, his grin feline, “are you asking whether we’ve ever shared a female, or whether we’ve bedded multiple in a night?” You don’t falter, dragging your eyes away from Cassian’s, “both, I suppose.”
The break in eye contact seems to reawaken the Warlord as he shifts beneath you, huffing with quiet laughter. “When we were young, and arrogant, we’d fuck any female that would spare us the attention,” he grins, “often in the same room as one another, with multiple partners.”
You send him a look, “good to know you’ve always been a shameless flirt.” He just laughs, a deep sound from his chest that makes your own lips kick up at the delightful noise.
“As for if we’ve ever shared…”
There’s that tension again.
Cassian’s mouth forms a cocky grin, “look at us, sweetheart. I’m not sure that sort of devastation should be wrought on one female.” Your own mouth quirks into a tauntingly sultry curve, “I think you’re severely underestimating me, General.” A muscle feathers in his jaw as his eyes flash at the title, but you go on. “I could take all three of you in my sleep.”
His grin turns vulpine at the challenge, hand squeezing tighter at your waist, tugging you against him, but something’s different about this contact. His eyes are molten as he drawls huskily, “is that another one of those nasty little kinks of yours, hm? Is this what you meant by ‘more’? Having someone who matches you for your depravity?”
The other two seem to be watching your exchange very closely… Whether that’s to make sure to keep Cass in line, or because they’re marking your reaction, you can’t tell.
You laugh, still under the impression of it being a friendly game between you two. “I think I have more kinks than all of you combined,” you taunt, and his eyes flash.
“Oh yeah?” He drawls, the pads of his fingers pressing into your thigh. “Maybe you should fuck Az. See who comes out on top.”
“Cassian.”
You’re both drawn out of your verbal sparring match to find Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on his General, in what appears to be warning.
You shift in Cassian’s lap, easing away from him a little as you laugh, “it’s fine, Rhys. We were just playing.” You wave you hand dismissively as you grin, “no harm done.” You’re vaguely aware of Azriel’s gaze on you, so you throw him a little smirk—a teasing quirk of your lips, to show that you’re fine.
The deep hunger in his eyes is like a kick to the stomach, but it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a gentle smile.
A clock chimes seven somewhere in the house, making you snap to. You sigh, easing out of Cassian’s grip as you hop to your feet. “Well, I’ve got one more shift for tonight then I’m off for a bit, so I’ll do some thinking and report back,” you offer an easy smile to the three of them, so grateful for their presence in your life.
Azriel stands from the sofa—as the one who flew you up here, he’s the one who’ll fly you back. You get the vague sense he has an ulterior motive for jumping on the escape but you silence your mind. You’re probably reading into it too much.
“How long are you working tonight?” The High Lord asks, gaze raising from Cass’ to your own. “I’m starting at eight and will be on the clock until seven.”
“That’s eleven hours,” Rhys frowns.
“I get paid by the hour, anyway.” You send a conspiratorial look to Cassian, “most of them don’t manage to last that long, so I get plenty of breaks.” He snickers in response, and you feel the slight weight lifting from the room.
You turn to leave, giving a reassuring smile to Rhys before you turn for the door.
“You know where to find us if you get tired of five-minute failures!”
You snort as you walk down the corridor to where Az will be able to take off. A smile lifts you lips and you fight back a laugh when a soft snarl echoes after the joke.
Azriel’s fingers graze the small of your back as he guides you through the house, despite you having been here so many times before. You appreciate those small touches, they’re grounding somehow; comforting.
You sense he wants to say something, but is holding back until he’s out of earshot.
It’s not until he’s flown you down from the house, and set you on the cobbles by the rainbow—a little way from your work house—that he speaks his mind.
“Before they came in,” he starts gently, in that peaceful quiet of his. “You said you were looking for someone.” Your heart warms at his attention to detail—he hadn’t forgotten that conversation. He’s always listening out.
You nod your confirmation, not looking at him as you set off into a stroll, the male keeping pace, close to your side. The sun’s setting, casting a warm glow across the streets of Velaris, the air feeling dry and warm—a storm’s going to be hitting in a few days. You can’t help anticipating it, that unrestrained hunger and fury that ripples across the sky, hailing down hot rain that would soak you to your bones.
“I think I’d like someone to give me attention, for a change. In…” Your eyes flick to his, hesitantly. He rolls his eyes, smiling slightly as he gestures for you to continue. “In bed.”
Azriel is careful to keep his gaze ahead, even as he feels yours piercing into him, searching for any sign of reaction—the tiniest show of discomfort—that will clue you to stop. He supposes that’s just how you’re accustomed to operating, always watching out for those emotional guides when you’re working. He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to be on guard around him, though.
“Understandable.” He nods, pretending to peer at some of the stores you pass to put you at ease. He swallows when you shift a little closer to him, lowering your voice. “I…sometimes feel a bit…worthless. Or tired. After a shift, I mean.” You take in a deep breath, allowing the air to circulate, loosening the tension from your body. “It’s draining, sometimes, to always be paying attention to my customers. I know it’s part of my job—I have to be the one who’s aware, make sure nothing gets out of hand, that they’re having a good time, and I’m performing to the expected level…” You go quiet, eyes trailing down to the cobbles as you continue on the path to your work.
When you don’t speak again for a while, he glances at you sidelong. Your brow is scrunched, seemingly in thought. He waits quietly for you to open up to him.
Then you raise your gaze, eyes certain, as you declare, “one day, I just want to be fucked. I don’t want to have to think. In fact, I want to be fucked so hard, I’m knocked out of my own head.” When your eyes look to his, a hint of vulnerability there, he has to force a comforting smile to his mouth. Ward off the jealousy, the envy that you aren’t considering them. Maybe this is their chance.
He’s about to attempt to persuade you, but you’re speaking now, pouring out all the words you’d sealed away.
“I’m tired of being the one who has to be attentive. I’m tired of not receiving my own pleasure. Doing this as a job is taking the fun away from it, and I feel drained, Az. I want to enjoy sex again. I don’t want to be stuck in the same two positions for the rest of my life. I want some adventure. I want someone who’ll come along and match me. I don’t want to keep suppressing my own desires, I want someone who’ll bring me new things to try. I want—…”
Again you cut off, eyes widening as they slide to his, in case you’ve said too much.
He fights the urge to grind his teeth.
“I’m just as depraved as you are. Stop worrying you’re going to scare me off.” His wings flare a little, shadows gently wrapping around you as you both turn down a street. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You take him in steadily, then your lips quirk at the edges. “Cassian mentioned that.”
He rolls his eyes, “please, ignore Cassian.” He gestures to you, “continue.” He doesn’t miss the twitch of your lips at the command, and for a second he swears he can see that hunger in your own eyes.
Your work place is in sight now, and when you reach the door, you allow him to follow you inside to your room. To carry on the conversation while you’re preparing yourself.
The room is lit with faelight that’s been spelled to take on a slightly red-ish colour. But with a flick of your wrist, it’s a normal cream. When you’ve finished changing, you return to the side room you’d led him to—so his scent wouldn’t linger in the room.
You’re clad in a silky robe, egg-shell white, the neckline plunging to your navel, where the fabric is held together with the matching silky belt, the gown pooling at your feet as you sit opposite him at what you call the recharging station—stacked with tea, biscuits, snack and fruit. As well as other, work-related objects.
“It’s rare that a customer comes in with…darker tastes. And even when they do, it’s difficult to feel it with them.” Your voice has dropped to a softer tone, as if you’re unused to voicing those thoughts. “Do you…” you hesitate, faltering. “What Cassian said, about…”
A smirk lifts his sensuous mouth, and you could hug him for the relief it brings you, to be on familiar territory. His dark eyes gleam in the low light, but with a devastating hunger you’ve never seen before. That makes you question your chosen relationship with him…because that grin…it promises something you’ve been craving for a long while now.
He shifts in his chair slightly, body relaxing, allowing you a clear view of his broad chest, powerful arms resting atop the edges of the seat, one leg tucked beneath the chair, the other stretching out, and you have to wonder how far it is from your own. His wings loom at his back, shadows wreathing them, curling around their tips.
“What Cassian said about…” he echoes, amusement dancing alongside that starving hunger, features remarkably neutral. Your eyes narrow at him as you observe his behaviour keenly, attempting to figure him out.
“I know what I like, Azriel.” You murmur, gaze never leaving his, like a lifeline of sorts.
“And what is it you like?” He drawls, watching you like a predator would. You blink, but shake off the tingling feeling in your chest. You can trust him. He’s been around for a while, he knows a thing or two about his own sexuality, how deep the fae mind can plummet.
“Sometimes, I want a little more than what I’m given,” you begin quietly, never breaking that connection. “I want more that a light pat on my cheek, or a slight buck of their hips. I want more than their hand keeping mine in place, more than a few measly rounds that don’t even satisfy me…”
Is it you or have his shadows thickened?
“What do you want, pretty thing?” The rough drag of his words has you examining him in a different way, looking at him not as your friend, but as a potential partner.
“Promise you won’t be disgusted?” You ask softly, and he picks up on the hint of vulnerability that he’s ready to pounce on.
He offers a smooth grin—the barest quirk of his lips—as he leans forward on the table, outstretching his hand as if to arm wrestle you, but extends his pinky finger. “I promise.”
The gesture is casual enough that you reach forward, twining your little finger with his own, tightening, but not releasing him. You lean closer across the small, circular table—really only large enough for one person. “Sometimes, if I have a smaller shift—one that ends around three or four—and I have to walk home alone, in the dark… Sometimes I wish someone would just drag me into an alley and take me there.”
Azriel’s mouth goes dry as you spill your secrets, those private fantasies, what you think about after a long night of dissatisfaction and you need relief that will knock you to your knees. He doesn’t show any signs of disgust, nor does he tell you to stop, so you take it a step further.
“Sometimes…I think about what it would be like to have someone lock me up. Strip me down, put me in a collar, and make me obey.”
He’s never seen you flush before, not from shame, not from embarrassment, nor humiliation. But there’s a flush of pleasure warming your skin now, and it’s taking most of his concentration to keep from launching across the table. The rest of his concentration is spearing for Rhys, letting the male into his head to witness this with him—inevitably dragging Cassian in, too.
He hears them curse in sync, catching up on the private conversation.
He tightens his hold on you, pushing closer, “what else?”
Your throat bobs, and he knows all three of them are sharing the same thought.
“Sometimes, I think I’d like to have choice stripped out of my hands. I think I’d like for someone else to be in control of me. To become something to be used…” Your eyes don’t shy away from his as you stare at one another, “…and shared.”
Cassian swears, low and nasty. Rhysand groans with dark pleasure. Azriel doesn’t have to guess at what each is doing.
We can’t let her go.
He can’t even tell who the thought comes from.
Teeth flash as you bite your lower lip. “What about you?”
Azriel’s head goes quiet, and he can feel the others’ stillness. “Sometimes…” he doesn’t even recognise his own voice, so warped with starving hunger. “I think it would be fun to set my shadows on someone. They know everything about how to torture…I think they should learn how to bring pleasure too.”
His eyes nearly roll as he scents your arousal, but he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He notes how still you are, as if sensing that one tiny move will set the predator in him hunting.
“Sometimes, I wonder what it would be like to let go, too. To just indulge, in everything I want, and not care about anything else. I think I’ve been searching for a long time to find someone who could match me, and I think I’m catching a trail.” He can see your breasts peaking through the thin silk, and it takes everything in him to hold his shadows—and himself—back from wrapping around you.
It’s like you’re enraptured, never once moving, hardly even breathing as he leans just a little bit closer—almost imperceptibly so. “Sometimes, I think it would be nice to keep someone. Not love them, or care for them, but keep them.” Keep you. “I think it would be a free-for-all, without rules or restraint, without any limitations. And I think I know a few other people who would also like to indulge in that.”
You hear that offer clear as day, heat rushing your body as you suddenly become aware that the only place he’s touching you is the joining point of your fingers.
A bell chimes in the hallway—the five minute signal—but it barely registers in your mind. Not when you’re staring so deep into his eyes, swallowed in that depthless swirl of arousal and hunger. Hunger for you.
Azriel releases his hold on you, and it takes a moment for that cool space on your little finger to register. “I should leave you.” You nod, almost vacantly, and he takes a damn long time committing your scent to memory.
He stands, and he can see the awareness return to your eyes. He watches as you steadily shut down your arousal in preparation for the night, but you’re unable to banish the heat in your eyes.
He heads to the door, satisfied when you follow behind him silently, padding on cat-soft feet through the room. The barest seed of an idea forms in his mind, and he can’t help himself, firmly raising those mental shields as he kicks Rhys and Cass out for the moment. He wants this between the two of you—he can report back later.
When he reaches the threshold, he stops, turning to you, and he knows he doesn’t mistake the excitement dancing in your irises, as if hoping he’ll change his mind and force you to bed. He has to grit his teeth against his instincts, roaring at him to take you.
“What safe-word do you use?” He asks, gently.
“Huh?” You blink your eyes, coming back from wherever you just went. “You said earlier one of the other girls used her safe-word. What’s yours?”
“Well, to make it easier for customers to remember, Red,” you answer. You wonder why he’s asking.
The slight lift of the edges of his mouth are more arousing than any smirk he’s given you. “But for yourself. What would you choose if you didn’t have to do it for someone else?”
You level him with an assessing look that he weathers, allowing you to make your evaluation.
Yandere Bat Boys/Azriel, Rhysand and Cassian Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)
❝ 🌹 — lady l: I finished another hc of ACOTAR and I hope you like the bat boys sharing a mate. I noticed that my yanderes have been softer lately and I tried to change it up a bit here lol Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes!! ❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, Reader is the mate of the three, jealousy, mention of murder and torture.
❝🌹pairing: yandere!bat boys x gn!reader, yandere!azriel x gn!reader, yandere!rhysand x gn!reader, yandere!cassian x gn!reader.
The three brothers have always been very close and for centuries that has never changed. They had their arguments and physical fights, but they always understood each other and worked it out in the end. Everything remained normal between them for five centuries, even after everything that happened Under the Mountain, the three brothers kept their relationship the way it always was.
Until they meet you. You and Eris Vanserra were always close and endured Beron's abuse together like sibilings and trusted each other completely and you were helping him with his plans to overthrow Beron so Eris could become the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. Because of the alliance Eris was making with the Night Court to make this possible, you met your mates, the three brothers.
You knew something was wrong the moment you stepped into Hewn City. It wasn't just because that was where the real Night Court was supposed to be, or what everyone thought it really was, but because there was something strange in the air that left you intrigued and slightly scared. Only when you finally came face-to-face with the High Lord, the General and the Spymaster you have finally understand.
Mates. They were your mates. You knew it the moment you saw Rhysand's purple eyes gleam, Cassian's shocked expression, and Azriel's stern face soften. The mating bond clicked into place and your body was filled with mixed feelings. Excitement, confusion and fear. It didn't seem possible, there was no way one person could have three mates, right? Your mind tried to search for logical answers but there was no logic, they were your mates and they knew it.
To say they were blown away was a huge understatement. They didn't know what they were supposed to do the moment they found out you were their mate. They tried to keep calm, the mask they always wore, but they couldn't, not when they were as shocked as you are about this mating bond. How was it possible for a person to have more than one mate? And what were the chances that all three were yours? You were their mate, that was a fact, and it didn't take long for them to come to terms with each other.
At first they tried to solve it in a ''friendly'' way. Well, friendly in their ways, which resulted in Cassian and Azriel fighting with their fists on the ground and Rhysand staring at them with disdain. They needed to come to terms with each other before deciding how you would be introduced into the relationship. That was the master plan, but needless to say, that's not what happened.
It was Rhys who proposed a deal to share you after Cass and Az got tired of fighting each other. The arrangement was simple but it would be efficient for the three of you: each day you would spend with one of them, individually, except for specific moments when the three would be together with you. It could have happened that way, but you chose not to accept the mating bond. Or at least you tried to reject them and needless to say they didn't take it very well.
Why would you try to reject them? That wasn't right and they would never accept that. You were theirs, Mother herself had made this happen and you thought you could just reject them and it would be all right? Well, you couldn't. They didn't want to force you into this, to accept them, they wanted you to go willingly, but you made the wrong choice and it was their duty, as your mates, not to allow it.
So they kidnapped you. It wasn't the best choice to make, but you would understand why all of this and come to love them the same way they loved you, well, that's what they thought. You could remain reluctant and deny them all you wanted, but nothing would change that you are theirs as much as they are yours and nothing and no one would change that. No one would help you and even if they tried, they would never get past them without being torn apart.
Rhysand is most demanding of your attention and is constantly pestering you for it. He gets jealous easily and when that happens nothing good will come of it. He doesn't want to have to invade your mind, but if he feels you're lying in any way he will do so with no remorse. Rhys likes to have you sitting on his lap at all times, whether it's meetings or dinner parties, he prefers having you that way. The High Lord loves showering you with expensive and lavish gifts in an attempt to please you, and will sulk and become irritated if you try to refuse them. Rhysand would like to make you his High Lady/High Lord if you accept.
Cassian is the quietest in his obsession, he's not as demanding as his brother and not as possessive, he's the softest and most affectionate. He likes to spend time with you in his own way, which includes bear hugs and teaching you how to fight. Unlike the others, he wants you to learn to defend yourself and will be the one to teach you. Cass is jealous but will rarely have outbursts, usually he will take his anger out on whoever made him jealous and make you apologize to him for making him jealous, as well as being overly protective. Cassian is an emotional manipulator and will use it against you, but only if he thinks you deserve it. A real soft but just for you.
Azriel is the most dangerous. He is so possessive and controlling that it is overpowering, as well as being a skilled stalker. You will never be alone, one of his shadows will always be next to you and whispering your every move to him. Az is very protective of his mate and dutiful, although he is very aloof, he has his moments and enjoys their company silently, usually with his head resting on your shoulders and his shadows circling the two of you in a protective fashion. He likes to pampered you and will do it one way often. He definitely has the bizarre habit of watching you sleep and will always have a shadow surrounding you in your dreams.
It wasn't their choice to share a mate, but they warmed to the idea and having you in the middle just brought them closer together. It wasn't just because you were their mate, but because there was a glaring need to have you all to themselves, locked away in Velaris so only they could see you. They tried to win your love in a more normal way even though you got kidnapped but soon it won't matter anymore. You are theirs and end of story. Any threat will be dealt with quickly and painfully. Rhysand pulling you almost naked into his lap, Cassian kneeling at your feet and Azriel behind you watching everything. That was your life, but don't worry, Cass will make sure everything is accepted quickly. It's not like you have a choice and if you choose to fight, Hewn City will be waiting for you.
Nessian waits on you for weeks while you try to heal from your injuries. They come in every night together - Cassian sitting beside the bed and hand feeding you, just happy to see you finally strong enough to eat something, and you track the way his eyes darken every time you swallow a spoonful of what he gives you. All while Nesta lays on the side of the bed and runs her hands through your hair, gently cooing and whispering in your ear how well you’re doing and how they both see your body healing and how much they love it. And sometime late at night, when the healing is so painful and you just want to cry and give up, they sense it from you despite your best efforts to stay quiet. Cassian comes into the spare room and gingerly scoops you up into his arms and brings you back to his bed with Nesta, who is scrambling to throw on one of Cassian’s old shirts because she doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so soon. All night long they lay on either side of you and run their hands over your arms and press soft kisses into your shoulders and you marvel and how good it feels just to be touched so kindly by them. The sensations are overwhelming, with two sets of hands and lips on your skin after weeks and months without this much attention, and you know you can’t hide the scent of your arousal. And it doesn’t take long before Nessian is hoping that once you’re strong and healed, they can keep you as their little plaything forever.
yes yes yes! the manipulation. making you believe you’d truly be cared for before they force you into being there’s. I love.
can you please write gender, neutral, reader, who has ADHD and the yandere Bat boys from ACOTAR react to reader having ADHD I’ve been waiting for your request to open to request this can’t wait to read it ❤️❤️❤️
❝ 🌹 — lady l: i hope you like it, anon! As a person with ADHD, I wrote it based on my experience and things that happen to me, but I know not everyone is the same, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! ❤️❤️
❝🌹pairing: yandere!bat boys/azriel, rhysand and cassian x ADHD!gender neutral!reader.
Azriel
Azriel deals with your ADHD however he can and tries his best to be understanding and not stress. He doesn't like it, but he can't do anything to change it. Don't get him wrong, he doesn't have anything bad against you having ADHD, as he knows it's not your choice, but he hates that ADHD has you.
He hates that he worries about you so much because he's afraid you'll end up getting hurt because of your lack of attention. He has never met anyone who poses as much danger to themself as you do and it irritates him profusely.
Azriel gets tired easily and to try to have some peace of mind, he will always have a shadow with you, to look after you and report any movement of you and others. Even if you get angry about this, he won't see it as anything wrong since he's just looking out for your safety.
He has always been very protective of you since he has never cared for or loved anyone as much as he loves you and when he finds out that you have ADHD this protection becomes unbearable. Azriel doesn't want anything bad to happen to you and will make sure of it.
Azriel hates it when you cause yourself harm and scolds you vehemently and when you are hurt by his words, he mumbles an apology and pulls you into a hug. He can't stay mad at you.
He tries to be as understanding as possible, like when you forget something or even a date, he tries to think about your well-being and doesn't schedule another date again until he's sure you're okay. Azriel will make sure you are always comfortable with something and, if you take any medication, make sure you never miss it and you will always take it.
Rhysand
If Rhysand could remove ADHD from you with his daemati powers, he would have done it a long time ago. But that's not possible, so he tries his best to take care of you and make sure you're well, fed and safe.
He doesn't like being ignored and when he talks to you, he expects an answer, but he tries to act indifferent when he realizes that you are lost in your thoughts and aren't listening to him. Rhys can't blame you for this, so he always brushes it off and says it's okay when you realize what happened.
Rhysand understands you and is as caring and gentle as possible. The way he talks and acts around you really shows how much he cares and wants you to feel comfortable around him, so he will never say or do something that makes you uncomfortable.
He was always overprotective and that didn't change at all when he found out about your ADHD, but it did increase. Anyone who looks, who thinks, wrong about you will be torn to pieces. Rhysand will not allow any harm to be done to you and any attempt will be dealt with slowly and painfully.
Rhys tries his best to look out for you, writing notes or sending you literal mental notes when you forget something, and, depending on the situation, he will have someone look after you so you don't get hurt. He leaves little notes around the house with simple reminders and some more romantic ones, reminding you how much he loves you and cares about you.
He loves you and is protective of you in the same way he always was, the only change will be that Rhysand will become much more suffocating and will invade your personal space more frequently due to your ADHD, constantly fearing that you will get hurt. Rhys values you a lot, but he doesn't trust you completely and so he has to make sure you're okay and he'll do it his way.
Cassian
Cassian loves the fact that you have ADHD. He knows this may seem strange and insensitive of him, but he can't help but be excited because it makes you more dependent on him in his eyes and he loves taking care of you.
He always loved taking care of you as if you were a child, especially due to your size difference. You will almost always be hidden in his wings and he will be looking at everyone with suspicion. Cassian had become even more protective due to your ADHD.
Cassian tries his best to be understanding and he is very emotional and puts your feelings above him and will take great care not to make you upset, as he hates seeing you mad at him. He is constantly hugging you, because he knows that in his arms you will be safe from all the dangers in the world.
He will always remind you of your chores, leaving notes around the house in places he knows you will look at and will always accompany you wherever you go, to make sure you don't get hurt or end up tripping over something. Your safety always comes first.
If you allow him, Cassian will become your personal bodyguard and follow you around like a puppy. He wants you to depend on him, he needs to protect you, be your hero and he will die inside if he can't do everything for you. It will get to the point that Cassian will offer to carry you anywhere.
Cassian knows it's wrong to think that way, since he knows that having ADHD isn't something easy or cool, but he likes having you dependent on him. He wants to be the only one to watch over you, to protect you and knowing that you have an extra vulnerability makes him ecstatic. He has to take care of you, that's his duty as your mate and as your protector.
Summary: With plans for your husband and dear friend, Eris, to take the throne, you’ve kept Cassian’s secret to yourself. With the turbulence of navigating Court politics, your husband’s private alliance with the Night Court needs to be maintained more carefully than ever, meaning that at least for now, no one will know that their General ever put his hands on you.
Warnings: Cassian gets forgiven, dub-con but it’s pretty soft, mentions of past non-con, smut, tiny sequin of angst, emotion hurt/comfort?
Word Count: 7,424
-Part 1-
“I’ll go,” you answer simply.
Sharp caramel eyes run over you appraisingly, and you hold still beneath his attention. He leans forward on his desk, discarding the reports and instead propping his chin on interleaved fingers. “That’s much too dangerous,” he replies after a pause, “now more than ever I need you by my side. Even if it’s for the sole purpose of having my court see us together, we need a united front. You’ll stay here.”
“Eris, this is likely a pivotal moment in your lifetime. In the history of the Autumn Court even. I don’t believe this is a task that can be delegated to someone we don’t trust entirely,” you reason, keeping your spine straight, eyes locked on his. “If their General will be travelling too, we need to show our trust. I am the perfect person to send—they know we trust one another, so sending me will be a show of good faith. On top of all this, I know what to look for. Excluding us, only one other person knows, who we trust, and he needs to stay here. It is far more important that you are shown to be well protected and untouchable than for your wife to be at your side.”
He levels you with a hard look, decisions passing through his mind, taking in your arguments. Eris sighs, at last leaning back into his chair, crossing his long legs at the ankles. “It is the more sensible solution, isn’t it?” He relents, at last allowing the exhaustion to show on his features, head tipping back into his chair. A sad smile curves the edges of your mouth, stepping forward to rest your hand on his shoulder. “It’ll likely only take a week or so, no longer. I’ll be back before you know it.” Eris scoffs, but doesn’t try to remove your hand. “I’m not some moony eyed husband,” he reminds sardonically, “I will manage a few days relieved of your presence.”
“Mhm,” you reply skeptically, “sure.”
Eris shoots you a glare, but it’s lacking the sharp flame that he usually puts into it. He relents, hand settling atop your own, one of the few displays of open affection he allows, rare but appreciated. “Be as efficient as possible,” he reminds, watching you quietly. “I don’t like having to share you with that brute so often.”
Fighting the discomfort that’s squirming beneath your skin, you force a smile. “I assure you, husband, you have nothing to worry about.”
————
“You’re late,” you say neutrally, eyes sliding open to mark the approaching figure.
“You were early,” Cassian counters, grinning broadly as he saunters into the clearing, sharp hazel eyes checking likely for the fifth time there are no unexpected guests. “I arrived at the minute we agreed on, so really you’re the one who wasn’t on time.”
“This alliance is important,” you reply, watching him warily from your seat on the ground, back propped against a tree, arms outstretched to perch upon your knees, bag leaned beside you on the broad trunk. “It’s discourteous and inconsiderate to not arrive at least a few minutes early preemptively. It sends a message.”
“You think I have all the time in the world to simply accompany Eris’ whims?” He asks rhetorically, an easy grin on his mouth as he approaches you, stopping a sensible distance away. “I have my own duties that had to be taken care of for it to be possible for me to accompany you. Isn’t that enough?”
You get to your feet, watching him distrustfully as you stretch your arms far above your head, loosening the taut muscle. “Illyrians giving you some trouble?” You ask neutrally, an edge to your voice, marking his hazel eyes that seem to be pointedly remaining locked on your own, not for a second dipping lower as they once used to. In a way you once enjoyed. “As troublesome as usual,” he answers vaguely, caution entering his gaze despite the curve of his soft mouth.
You hum in response, shucking the bag back onto your shoulders, easing out the straps and tying them across your front to evenly disperse the weight. “That’s good to hear,” you say blandly, and he walks closer once you’ve finished, preparing for the long journey ahead, travelling to the unclaimed land of Under the Mountain. Seeking the Weaver’s cottage that has been left hopefully abandoned for some time, remaining uninhabited.
“Nobody saw you?” You ask, and even to your ears it’s a low jab. Of course he wouldn’t have been followed, it’s just a cheap shot to remind him what he’s done. Of the betrayal he’d forced you through.
Cassian recognises this, something shameful flickering in his gaze, chin lowering by an almost invisible angle. “Nobody saw,” he replies quietly, eyes locking as acknowledgement passes through his features, regret inseparably intwined. “All it takes is one person, General,” you remind lowly, staring him down.
His throat rolls, but he nods, dipping his head. Understanding the conversation is no longer about his journey, simply that it is a superficial front for more serious topics. “Maybe one day it’ll come to light of its own accord,” he says quietly, hazel eyes swirling and deep.
“Until then,” you reply, pushing flame into your gaze.
“Until then,” he repeat, nodding.
————
It’s the second day, and you’re waiting silently in a clearing for Cassian to return from the marketplace with food for supper.
Between the two of you, you mutually came to the conclusion he would be less recognisable, both for his familiarity in subtlety, and the likeliness that the Fae filling an exchange hub would hopefully not be the kind to be well acquainted with warlords. You pull your cloak tighter, air still heavy with the crisp ice of the Winter Court, and this will be the last time you pass through a town before reaching your destination, hence replenishing food supplies for the next forty-eight hours.
Privately you had hoped to be the one to go into the market as you have visited before, and would have liked to pass by a few familiar destinations. As well as some newer establishments.
It feels strange to think you would be entitled to a bed in the asylum.
During Amarantha’s reign, Viviane, who had temporarily assumed control of the Court in the High Lord’s absence, had opened a shelter for any who could make it, irrelevant of the Court they hailed from. Anything from grieving the loss of a loved one, to have been taken advantage of—everyone was welcome.
Despite what had happened with Cassian, it didn’t feel right. It was different. How could you compare your own experience with some of the traumatising stories others had been put through during Amarantha’s dominion? It was wrong, but… It hadn’t been that bad. You’d lived, come out of it without scars, or any deformations—that was enough to separate you from the people within the asylum.
A twig snaps, and you remove your attention from the white dove perched upon a frosty branch, to the towering Illyrian approaching you. The fire continues to crackle away, having used your magic to set it ablaze without need for fuel—lucky, seeming as you would’ve had a hard time finding dry kindling, given the snow that’s thick on the floor. While he’d been away you’d also been tasked with clearing patches for each of you to sleep, a noticeable distance apart, though each are sizeable enough to comfortably accommodate your respective body masses.
After supper—that he prepares, and you notice he gives you the larger portion of—the two of your drift to your cleared spaces, setting up the bedrolls and unfolding the thick blankets that were specifically fashioned with Winter Court temperatures in mind, fleece thickly layering the insides with insulation spells woven between the thread. Yet even with every advantage, the cold seems to be finding ways to infiltrate, despite the warm clothes, the heat contained within your body, the crackling fire that should be providing some level of warmth.
Before long your teeth are close to chattering, stomach spasming with cold, toes and legs curled and pressed flush together as you huddle tighter.
With an irritated sigh, you shove the blanket off, the icy temperature instantly setting deeper into your bones. “Cassian, move over,” you mutter reluctantly, sending a wave of heat to melt a pathway in the snow so you can tread across without freezing your feet off, carefully moving your bedroll to tuck beside his.
He makes no comment about the use of his name at last, just shifting over as much as he can, opening his blanket to overlap with your own, and you settle down, putting as much distance between you as possible. Still, the cold doesn’t abate, unable to siphon his warmth from the proximity. “You know,” he tries quietly with forced lightness, strain evident, “you should probably come closer. You’ll get frostbite.”
“I’m fine,” you bite out stiffly, curled tight, able to see as your breath fogs before you. He’s silent, but you can practically hear his hesitance, the pause in his voice, both of you knowing he’s right. “I won’t…I’m not going to do anything,” he whispers, voice thick and heavy. “So you can come closer. You need to warm up.” You grit your teeth, blowing out a breath, before rolling over to his side, Cassian having already pulled his winter blanket over more, allowing you to take in the heat he’s warmed it with.
“You’ve given me too much,” you manage quietly, disliking the proximity you have with the male, the possibilities at last dawning on you as a potential reality. It’s unlikely he would be able to succeed, but… “It’s fine,” he replies stiffly. Your brows narrow, pushing up from the bed, seeing his left wing exposed the other side of him, sticking out from beneath. You glare down at hazel, simultaneously angry at him for so blatantly causing himself to suffer, as if it will serve as penance, and frustrated at him for doing something so foolish. He’s always been the kind of male to put people he cares about first, even if it hurts him sometimes.
You pull his blanket further onto your side, and he hisses as the icy wind kisses the sensitive skin of his wings, flinching at the cold. Still he doesn’t complain, and you don’t doubt he would allow you to take the blanket entirely, feeling he deserves the night of pain. But despite everything, you know he isn’t that bad. You’re the only one he’s wronged in that way, and you can excuse it for one night, reminding yourself forcefully of the good he’s done until this point. You’re old enough to know life isn’t black and white, no matter how desperately you wish it was—how much easier things would be if there was a straightforward answer to your enigmatic relationship.
So despite having dragged his blanket away, so his left wing is entirely uncovered, trembling slightly as it tucks tight to his back, you shift your own blanket to cover it, leaning over him to make sure he’s sealed in, while remaining wary of touching the intimate expanse. Silently, you settle back beneath the thick duvet he’s already heated, wordlessly shifting closer, fighting the tightness that seizes your muscles as his arms tentatively wrap around your body, shifting beneath your rib cage, gingerly pulling you to his chest, your head ducking beneath his chin.
Aching familiarity pierces your breastbone, nostalgia for the times before he’d chosen his path, destroying centuries of friendship, bordering on something greater; something deeper. How many nights had you fallen asleep haphazardly on his bed, only to wake repeatedly in this very position, having subconsciously slotted together in your sleep, a strange magnetism that would connect you.
“These blankets are less that satisfactory,” you mutter, silently pointing your finger in foolish attempts to soothe the conflicting feelings burning in your gut.
“The shop owner must have lied about their insulation,” he replies thickly, and you can’t decide whether you believe him or not. A month ago, you wouldn’t have doubted him for a second, but now you’re not so sure. You hum, and it’s clear he can detect your indecision, body shifting ever so slightly. His scent wraps around you, at once comforting and unsettling, the contradiction of emotions he seeds in you feeling like whiplash.
“Did you manage to find the store I mentioned?” You ask, needing a distraction from his encompassing touch, hyper aware of every place your bodies are connecting, skin tingling beneath his heat. “Sure did,” he responds stiffly, “your directions were spot on.” You don’t know if you imagine his fingers inching higher, his palm flattening over your spine, his head dipping so he can nose at your scent, but it sparks an ember of intensity across your chest, emotions concentrating into something difficult to contain, but you can’t figure what.
“You saw the asylum, then?” You ask shortly.
His body tenses at your back, pounds of muscle locking, breath hitching briefly before easing out. “I did,” he murmurs hoarsely, but you can’t quite muster the energy to feel bad for what you’re doing, even if for all purposes of the trip and alliance you had sworn you wouldn’t bring it up again unless you were in danger. You hum, settling tighter in his hold, “I wanted to visit.”
Cassian freezes, large frame stiffening, head dipping to peer down and you can feel the light tremble in his hands. You wonder if perhaps he’s finding this as torturous as you are, though for a different set of reasons. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, the apology weak and broken. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats, shaky hands holding you carefully, as if you’re going to shatter and dissolve in his arms should he make a single wrong move.
The confession catches you off guard, anger burning in your veins, hands flattening against his chest to feel how his heart is pounding wildly, inclining your chin to stare up at him, so close together. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he whispers, one hand tentatively rising over your arm, moving to cup your jaw, scared you’ll jerk away. You don’t, too frozen stiff with shock, and his palm settles across your skin. “I swear it,” he breathes, brows curved with pain, “I regret doing it. I don’t know what came over me. You know— You know I’m not that sort of person,” he tries to plead, while you remain speechless.
“I hate to break it to you, Cassian, but you made yourself that sort of person,” you spit lowly, bottom lip wobbling. “It was wrong. You clearly understand that if you’re apologising, but chose to do it anyway.”
“Then why did you agree to come on this mission with me. You can’t have not known,” he whispers.
“Because I have a duty,” you hiss. “Everything I do is to help Eris, to help the people who are forced to suffer in my Court. You know this. Don’t pretend it’s a surprise.”
He stares at you, eyes marginally widened, lips parted and you stare back.
“You thought I’d forgive you?” You breathe hoarsely, utterly disbelieving.
He’s silent, rendered temporarily mute by shock and despair. Then: “was it really that bad?” He asks weakly. And yet fury fails you, the broken dissonance in his question, asked so sincerely. “I trusted you,” you whisper, too taken by emotion to shield yourself. “You led me on,” he breathes pleadingly. “For years, decades, you led me on.” His brows curve, lips carved in a regretful line as he stares at you with hot eyes. “You didn’t trust me,” he whispers brokenly, “you just liked knowing when the day came for that— that piece of shit to take the throne, you’d have Rhys’s ear through me.”
Your eyes widen, lips parting in devastation but he gives you no room to speak.
“I thought you felt the same as I did,” he bites out, “I thought there was time to figure something out, to get you away from him, so you could be with me. We could be together.” His hold has tightened on you significantly, and you know you should be terrified of his loss of control, but instead you’re paralysed as his heart shatters before your eyes. “But that wasn’t the case, was it?” He asks, voice breaking. “Did you find it funny? Did the two of you laugh together when you told him how blindly in love I am with you? I bet your conversations were rife with jokes about it. About the mongrel bastard who thought a purebred lady might see something in him that was worth a damn.”
Hot wells gather in his eyes, ready to spill over no matter how he tries to master himself, how much he tries to blink them away. “I was so stupid,” he breathes brokenly, forehead pressing to your own as his lids squeeze shut. “So stupid for even thinking you’d pick me over him. For trying to be better—”
“Don’t do that Cassian,” you manage to hiss, sadness and rage twining together into something wicked and inconceivable. “Don’t hide behind your poor self-esteem like that. Don’t try and manipulate me into feeling sorry for hating you.”
The General flinches, breath stuttering as if you just jabbed him in the throat, like you’d just smacked him in the face.
“I trusted you,” you whisper, eyes feeling hot, “and you broke that trust. If you had just waited—”
“I waited decades,” he hisses, unaware of the bruises he’s putting into your skin from how desperately he’s holding you. “I waited centuries for you, and even when I thought you felt the same I never made a move because I knew you wouldn’t give yourself that freedom out of some fucked-up sense of loyalty to him.” You practically recoil in his arms, but he brings you tighter to his chest, hearts almost pounding against one another from how flush you are.
“And that somehow entitled you to me?” You breathe. “Your actions are your own, General, no matter what you try to tell yourself. You knew what was going to happen, that I was already married, how else was it going to end?” Tears slip out but you shove them away with the palm of your hand. “Maybe things wouldn’t have gone anywhere, but they could have ended better,” you say shakily, “because we were good together. There was something between us. I did love you back.”
“Then why didn’t you come with me?” He groans in pain, hot water splashing on the bedroll.
“Because that’s not what I’m needed for,” you cry. “For fucks sake, Cassian, put yourself in my position. I love my Court, and I can see it becoming a place of safety and wonder, and I truly believe Eris can do that, but I need to be there for it. Surely you can understand that. If not my loyalty to him, then loyalty and love for my home, and a dream for a better world.”
The words hang taut between you, bare and bloody, beating with a faint fleshy pulse, ripped and torn from the warm heat of wet tissue.
“Why did you do that Cassian?” You whisper, staring up at him, searching for an answer in the male you once trusted and loved.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, clutching you tighter like you might leave him right then and there, turning without looking back.
“I’m sorry.”
————
The next day passes slower than the previous two combined, words from the night before haunting your travels as you breech the lands Under the Mountain.
Having found the Weaver’s cottage, thankfully vacant, you’d been unable to summon even a spark of relief upon locating the object you’d entered this mission to find. No matter its importance, your heart was silent in your chest.
You’re able to make a good pace, and reach a small cabin contained within the unruled lands, having been standing longer than you can remember, seemingly as belonging to the sinister forestry as the strange creatures that lurk there. There’s hardly enough energy for talk, spent from a long night of arguing, emotions flayed raw.
From the other room you hear Cassian swear, the entirety of the small hut comprised of two tight rooms. You instinctively follow to the sound, spotting the single bed that’s the object of his startled aggravation. Hazel eyes hesitantly turn to you, but you hardly have the energy to care, just shaking your head, turning to make for the kitchen.
“One more night,” he hears you mutter bitterly under your breath, his heart fracturing a little more from the harsh words, so clearly resentful.
Supper comes and goes, and eventually it’s time for rest. The numbness has been given time to thaw, and once again you find yourself dreading his presence, being in such close proximity to the male who’d so brutally betrayed you. But it’s just one more night, then you’ll go your separate ways: him back to his Night Court, and you back to Eris.
Eris, you remind yourself, the Autumn Court. Your reasons for why you’re on this mission, facing him again. It’s for your Court.
“I’ll be on guard,” Cassian says from behind you, leathers removed, leaving him in more domestic clothing that tugs at your heart strings. You’re ashamed to admit you’d once dared to fantasise about running away with him, living together in a cabin that would have ideally been larger than this, but you wouldn’t have complained.
“Don’t bother,” you reply dully, pulling the covers back, unable to look at him. “You’ll wake up anyway if there’s a hitch. Rest.”
He doesn’t argue with your reasoning, whether because he’s privately glad to have one more night beside you, or because he knows you’re much too tired to deal with more abrasion, you can’t tell, and realise you don’t particularly care.
Once again he presses up against you, arms wrapping around your body needlessly, no longer in need of being kept warm. Neither of you comment on it, despite how strange it would seem were either of you consciously recalling the recent events. But it feels natural and familiar in a way both of you crave in that moment, wishing to be returned to how things were so you don’t have to deal with how things are.
Cassian’s head dips slightly, nose brushing the crown of your head and you hear him inhale quietly, as if ashamed to still be needing you so greatly in spite of everything that’s happened. Feeling undeserving to even be indulging in your scent, but it’s been a month since he’s seen you, and he somehow doubts the meetings will increase at all in frequency. This very well might be the last time he sees you for a long time.
He wonders if he’ll be expected to attend the ball that will inevitably be thrown once Eris becomes High Lord and you his Lady of Autumn.
Not quite a Queen in their eyes, but something similar.
He peers down at you then, huddled reluctantly to his chest in order to both be able to fit on the bed, and laments with his entire soul.
Do you think you’ll be able to forgive him one day?
The silence of the cabin stretches between you, and he feels your muscles begin to lose their tautness. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I hardly know how I feel about you now, even having had a month to sit with it.”
Horror rushes through him, realising he’d spoken aloud, but you raise your head to look at him, silencing his words with a single glance. “No matter what you’ve done, I never meant to lead you on,” you murmur, “I’d thought the end result would be obvious.”
“Some people get happy endings,” he whispers, chest tingling beneath your touch. You remain silent, and he feels his stomach drop through the floor.
“You know I hate myself for it,” he says thickly. Honestly.
“I don’t want…” Your expression shows conflict, brows scrunching together in a pained look. “I hate you a bit, too.” Ice slices through his heart at your words, his torment reflected in your own features. “You know I never meant to hurt you,” he whispers, and you can feel the words echo across your mouth. “But you did hurt me. And you hurt yourself more in the process,” you reply, “so what was the point?”
“I didn’t want him to have you,” he breathes at last, the true motive finally being brought to light. “He has everything. He doesn’t need you.”
“So that’s what it comes down to,” you muse bitterly. “Possession.”
“I wanted to love you,” he whispers, lips brushing your forehead, and you’re startled by how close he’s gotten, hazel bearing down on you. “I still do.”
“I’ll burn you alive,” you threaten, voice cracking at the imagery, hands heating on his chest.
Cassian dips lower, brow pressing lightly to yours. “You could burn me to cinders,” he answers, hands sliding over your own, keeping your palm over his heart. “If you told them—any of them—they wouldn’t be angry. Not with you, at least. You could get away with it.”
“It would tear them apart,” you whisper, hands increasing by degrees along with the pace of your heart. “If it would even begin to fix anything between us…” he murmurs, hazel locking deeply with you. “Let me burn.”
His mouth grazes yours, then he’s pressing down firmer, committing like it’s his final act, hands losing their tremors, holding you like you’re the one made of ashes. Like you’re the most precious thing in his world, about to be set ablaze and forever lost to the wind. The decision is passed over to you—he’s made his stance. As twisted as it is, he’s showing willingness in his own way, resigning himself from the torment of choosing, of navigating all the endless angles and spikes that seem to perpetually be dragging you apart.
Heat stings at his chest, singeing his clothes, and he hisses into your mouth, heart pounding wildly in what’s possibly the most reckless move of his life, waiting for the fire to consume him whole.
Your mind whirs with conflict, he’s committing the crime right before you, but it’s so soft and tender, and something you’ve yearned for almost as long as he has. His eyes have slid shut, but you watch him, skin flushed as he plies your lips apart, brows narrowed in concentration, taking every last detail in, down to the stitching pattern that’s running beneath his fingertips.
The smell of singed cloth filtrates through the room, smokey and burnt, and your hands have broken through his shirt, bare palms burning against scar-slashed skin, packed with muscle and the heat of life—heat that’s barely an ember in the face of your flames, licking from your fingertips with desire to devour him. His heart is beating against your own, mouth opening with wet heat, latching flush with you as his hands stroke your sides reassuringly.
It’s okay to let him go.
Your hands jerk away, trying to shove at him but the tender hold is deceptively overpowering, and he keeps you tight to his body, tongue dipping in as he angles your mouth, diving deeper. You squirm, desperate to wriggle free, to run from the choices he’s presented you with: either choose him or follow through with your protection. An impossible conundrum.
His hand glides up your spine, arcing beneath his touch, palm tilting your head back as his lips leave your mouth, lowering to your throat. “Cassian,” you gasp, blood pumping through your body with fear. “Don’t do this again.” Yet he simply guides your hands to return to his chest, as if reminding you of your power to stop him, the power you have over him. “No matter what happens,” he whispers hoarsely, kissing down to your collar bones, “I’ll continue to love you after tonight. No matter what you do, or who you pick.” His mouth reaches the neckline of your top, and his palm skates across the bare skin of your abdomen, ducking beneath the fabric. “You’re strong enough to survive on your own, now.”
“Cassian,” you cry softly, not wanting to force the betrayal upon Eris in order to survive it yourself, yet seemingly unable to return it to the male before you. You’re certain he can feel the violent trembling of your fingers, the way heat surges and flickers as your power spasms with indecision, emotions flashing through you with such forceful velocity real sparks zap against tan skin. His hot mouth latches over a space below your jaw, tingling with feather-ish energy, his roughened palm sliding over the bare skin of your waist, trailing up your spine as he gently brings your shirt with him, the fabric catching beneath your breasts.
“Don’t make me choose,” you whisper, shaking as his touch returns to your front, dipping beneath your arm to graze intimately across your rib cage. “I can’t kill you, Cassian,” you breathe, tears welling even as frustration warms your body at your own inaction. If you’re stumbling here, how will you ever survive as Lady of Autumn? But this task is far more difficult than anything you’ve ever been forced to deal with, finally coming face to face with his emotions, feelings that have been quietly left to themselves for centuries, gently shunned back into the darkness so they wouldn’t have to be acknowledged. Now they’ve developed, having only grown stronger with neglect, learning to thrive off what little he’s been given, concentrating into something verging on poisonous. Proving potentially deadly now to both of you.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, palm rising higher, and you gasp as he cups your breast, thumb softly grazing your nipple. “You’d be right to.”
He pushes your top up the final way, pulling you indulgently closer, shuddering slightly as he feels the softness of your breasts flush to his chest, pressing with delightful fullness. Your heart stutters, tremors fluttering through your body, an unfamiliar heat traitorously gathering in response to the soft touches.
You slide your left hand away from his chest, right palm remaining over his heart like a safety net, shaky fingers stumbling higher over the muscle of his shoulders, rising to thread through the black, silky hair he’s at last let down for the night. Cassian’s lips falter on your throat, temporarily rendered immobile by disbelief, unable to understand the meaning of your touch.
“Sweetheart?” He breathes shakily, brow resting on the crook between your shoulder and neck. Heat surges across the skin of his chest, stinging with short, burning pain at his pause, and he stutters back into action, heart pounding wildly, fingers taking the tumbling trip down the trail of your sternum, passing lower, digits grazing the soft skin of your abdomen.
Your hand grasps his hair tighter as he slides lower, shifting in the bed so you’re once again tucked beneath his chin, and you gasp as he cups your heat, having silently slipped beneath the band of your nightwear.
For one night, you realise you’ve decided. For one night, alone together in unruled territory, where there is no higher power present save for the Mother, no laws to obey nor unspoken rules to follow. In terrain where creatures and beasts from folklore and fairytales cohabit organically, through violence or coercion, you allow yourself to join them in their brutal form of existence. To alleviate the burden on your shoulders, relieve yourself from the pressure of seeking a right solution, and resign to a night of freedom.
His fingers prod lightly at your entrance, and your hands connect at the nape of his neck, releasing him from the worry of pain, allowing him to move without the hindrance of burning fingertips. For the first time since he’s put his hands on you tonight, he fumbles, caught off guard from your acceptance after centuries of being lead to believe you would never allow this to happen.
“Cassian,” you breathe tersely, and he stumbles again at the heat in your voice, swallowing thickly as he meets your eyes. “I might not’ve been able to do anything before,” you whisper, maintaining enough distance to hold his gaze as your right hand slides from his back, brushing against his throat, and you can see from the strain in his features his instincts are roaring for him to defend himself, having already been burned by your fire. “But if you lose interest now because I’m willing…” Your palm heats, enough flame rising to your skin to bite at his windpipe, eyes prickling as his throat stings. “I’ll cook you from the inside out and have you served as a coronation dish.”
The General shivers, though it has nothing to do with fear. He can see the bleak conviction carved in your eyes, the grim strength rolling from your palm, ready to follow up on your threat should he prove himself to be morally irreparable.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he breathes, lips brushing, nose grazing against your own, close enough he could swear he feels the flutter of your lashes against his skin. The heat recedes, throat feeling cool as you release him, hands threading through his hair, eyes locking heatedly and you incline your chin. Cassian groans softly, at last lowering his mouth to yours, latching over top it with sweet relief, pleasurable aches blossoming in his lower body as you respond.
His fingers slide between your legs, thigh raising to swing over his hip, and you pause when his digits press inside, lips parting, allowing him to dip his tongue in and taste you. Arousal coalesces in the pit of your stomach, a soft sound of pleasure fluttering into his mouth as he curls inside of you, having you roll down onto him, sweet noises of intimacy being swapped between your bodies.
One hand trails down his chest, wrapping around his wrist, wanting to pull him away. Cassian pauses, drawing back from your mouth, tan skin hot and flushed as he peers at you quietly, irrationally worried you’ve had a change of heart. “I want to feel you Cassian,” you whisper, unbothered by the blunt words. He reaches forward, swiping across your glossy clit, circling lightly. “We’re in no rush,” he reassures, “we have all night.”
“Maybe you aren’t,” you mumble, eyes remaining locked on his as your fingers begin deftly untying the strings of his leathers, marking the roll of his throat.
He exhales heavily, almost a hiss, finally pushing your hand away so he can free himself faster—his need was manageable until you gave him that look, all heat and bedroom eyes. “Alright,” he whispers, watching as you remove your clothes with equal haste, hunger making his breathing irregular, the scent of your arousal wrapping around him so thoroughly he feels dizzy.
Cassian moves to be on top of you, but your muscles lock, refusing to relent, causing him to ease up, peering at you with heat in his eyes. “I don’t… Not yet,” you murmur, heart pounding and through the arousal he catches a glimpse of the wariness. Fear he’s put into your body.
The General swallows thickly, but nods, rolling onto his back so his wings are pinned, a small discomfort he’ll gladly undergo for your safety. Rough palms gently settle over your thighs, simply resting without pressure or guidance as you climb atop him, legs parting over his lap. Your breath stutters as you feel him between your thighs, the thick weight of him resting against his stomach, moisture beading at his tip. Your tongue swipes out over your lips, gripping him carefully, raising your hips to guide his head to your entrance, Cassian relinquishing all control to allow you your comfort.
“You know this won’t fix anything,” you breathe, holding him just away from where you both want to be joined. Hurt and regret flicker in his hazel eyes, but he nods. “I understand.”
“You know this might not happen again,” you whisper, skin pebbling in the cool air of the cabin. He hesitates, before swallowing and nodding. “I know.”
“I can’t give you any more than this.”
Again pain flickers in his gaze, features twisting into a carving of sadness. You sigh, palm settling flat over the firm planes of his abdomen. “Cassian,” you say, quietly, “maybe we just weren’t meant to be together.”
“Don’t say that,” he whispers hoarsely. “What I feel for you…it’s not coincidental. It’s intended.”
“That doesn’t matter,” you sigh, lips curving down. “I’m needed in Autumn, how you are in Night. To both serve, and rule. Tonight is the only exception to that, and after this—”
“Don’t,” he begs, “don’t.”
“This needs to be mutual,” you reason quietly. “How things were before…they can’t continue. How I’m perceived, the things I do…a Lady of Autumn won’t be able to have casual dinners with you, or nights in drinking. So we need to… It’ll only hurt more if we can’t agree on this.”
“You’ve been his wife for decades,” he manages roughly, pushing through the words. “I won’t suddenly stop loving you just because of your title. I know it can’t be as frequent, but it won’t be never.”
Your brows tie together sorrowfully, and his heart trips up.
“This past month,” he hedges, fighting the worry in his blood, “have you…” He shakes his head, eyes sliding shut as he eases in a breath, returning his gaze to you. “Do you love him?”
You watch him silently. Noting the vulnerability in his features, emotion spread raw, and you know without a doubt you could repay him tenfold for the brief pain he caused you with a few well-selected words.
But…
“No,” you whisper. “Not how I love you.”
His body reacts as if he’s at last been released from a torture bed, slumping and turning organically pliable, rested and well-used, like freshly oiled hinges. Maybe you hadn’t quite understood the depth of his insecurity, how ingrained in him that sense of worthlessness had been implanted, and if created wholly from inadequacies.
“That’s all that matters,” he breathes, hand reaching up to cup your jaw. “That’s all I care about.”
“Cassian…”
You lean into his touch, eyes sliding shut momentarily. Mourning the loss of normalcy. “We’ll find time,” he says softly, thumb brushing your cheek, your kiss raising to lock with tender hazel. “We’ll be together.”
And in a lapse of sense, you allow yourself to believe him, believe things will be okay, believe that there will be time, believe that things can work between you. “We’ll be together,” you repeat quietly, and at last the two of you connect.
You lower down atop him, Cassian sucking in a sharp breath as his hand drops from your cheek to your hip, then away again to fist at his sides, reminding himself that you’re the one in control. He won’t take that away from you again. Your lips part, pulse increasing as you take him in, feeling as he slowly fills you up, stuffing you full, until the backs of your thighs are flush with his hips, pressed tight together.
The silence is filled with heavy pants, breathing deeply as pleasure warms your skin, bubbling and sizzling between you. But he’s so big, so large that it feels as though you’re winded, unable to absorb the air in your lungs despite inhaling intentionally. A fluttery moan spills from your lips, and you scent as his arousal concentrates at the sound, your spine arching against him so he touches different spots inside of you.
“Oh gods…” you breathe, at last joined together in the way you never thought would happen. “Oh gods, Cassian…”
“I’m here,” he breathes, hands still clutching the bedroll. “I’m right here sweetheart.” Heavy pants puff from your chest, but you manage to grapple for him, hands stuttering across his chest, urging him upward. He follows almost immediately, sitting up on the bed, arms wrapping close around your waist, palms splaying up your spine, settling between your shoulder blades as your own lock at the nape of his neck.
“Cass…” you pant beside his ear, practically trembling in his arms. “You’re so big…” He twitches inside of you, groaning softly as the pads of his fingers press into your skin, desperate to keep you with him after the turbulence of the past month. You already feel so near the edge, finally being given what you’ve been in desperate need of for years, confident a single move on his end will have you shattering.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your face, nose bumping tenderly with your own. “You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re here with me. You’re safe.” You shift to look at him properly but gasp with the stimulation. His hazel eyes lock with yours and you can make out the raw intimacy in his gaze, what it means for the two of you to be slotted together in the way you are.
“You’re so perfect,” he breathes, cupping your jaw, peering up at you. “How do you do it?” Your own palms raise to his hair, threading through the silky locks, loving the feel, proof of the new level of affinity.
“I want…I want you to move,” you pant, stroking his hair with shaking hands. “Please, Cassian…I need you to…”
“It’s okay,” he reassure quietly, “I understand. Just sit back and relax. I’ll take care of you. Such good care of you.” His hands find your hips and you weakly grip onto his shoulders, shuddering as he begins moving, just soft grinds of his hips against your own, gently bucking as he moves you atop him.
Moans spill from your lips, quiet breaths gasping as your back arches, breasts pressing fully to his broad chest, and your hands tug on his shirt, needing to push your nails into the ripe skin of his back, underlined with healthy muscle to power his warrior’s body. The fabric is gone in a flash, and his hot mouth has opened over yours, exchanging sounds of pleasure as his hips buck, hands touching and grasping everywhere they can, starved from your body.
“Gods sweetheart,” he groans between kisses, lazily swirling against one another, stimulating the spots you like with sweeping movement. “There’s nothing in this world that compares to you.”
Heat unspools in the pit of your belly, and you can feel you won’t last much longer. Curses slip out, and you gasp when Cassian’s hand slides between you, his thumb settling over your clit, swiping tentatively across the sensitive bud. Your hips buck into his touch, eager for more, so overwhelmed you think you let out a sob. “Cassian,” you gasp, gripping him tight, wonderful arousal tingling hotly between your legs. “It’s okay sweetheart, you can let go,” he pants roughly, seemingly as intensely affected as you. “Gods you’re perfect. So fucking perfect,” he grits, biting a bruise into your shoulder.
Nails prickle across his back, and your breathing temporarily pauses as pleasure breaks across your skin before stuttering to life. Your eyes roll back with heat, hips bucking sporadically, encouraging him to make the fall with you, clutching tight to his inherently familiar body. You moan his name breathlessly, panting heavily and it’s the final straw before he crumbles. He bucks sharply up into your wet heat, sounds squelching as you clutch onto one another desperately.
You can feel as he spurts inside of you, filling you up with thick, hot liquid, urged to give more as you flutter around him, orgasm prolonged with the jittery movements of his hips, repeatedly stimulating spots that reawaken fresh pleasure, and you think you might pass out of it doesn’t fade soon, so utterly possessed. Somehow it does come to an end, slowly dimming, leaving you pulled tight together, seated fully in his lap, shaking from the intensity, cheeks damp from tears.
Hot breaths pant between you, but Cassian manages to pull away, hands cupping your cheeks, noses almost brushing as you stare at one another, staring thoughtlessly, too overstimulated to do much.
“I’m never letting you go,” he breathes reverently, “never leaving you.” And even though it’s unrealistic, you nod.
“Good,” you whisper, deep hazel having captured you thoroughly. “I don’t want you to leave.”
''You are everything I ever wanted and I will protect you with everything in me.'' — Cassian.
❝ ⭐ — lady l: Do I have a soft spot for him? I have. Can you blame me? Probably not. Ah, I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️
❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of murder, jealousy, unhealthy relationships.
❝ ⭐pairing: yandere!cassian x gender neutral!reader.
Cassian is very passionate and intense, his feelings are overwhelming and he needs to vent them in one way or another. Usually he does it by fighting, but he needs love. He needs you.
You are everything he ever wanted. It doesn't matter if you're his mate or not, Cassian is completely in love with you and he only wants you.
He can't remember ever wanting someone as much as he wants you. Cassian just knew that he loved you, that he needed you in his life and he wouldn't stop until he got it.
Cassian is a lovesick puppy, basically. He will follow you everywhere with passionate eyes, his wings spreading menacingly to anyone who dares to approach you.
He has no qualms about eviscerating alive anyone who dares to look at you the wrong way. You are all that matters and he will never let you be hurt. And anyone foolish enough to try will regret it very quickly.
He will do anything for you. Anything. Just order and it's yours. Do you want an expensive shoe? It's yours. Do you want a Spring Court rare flower? He'll sneak in there and get it for you. Everything, anything, just ask him.
To say he is overprotective is an understatement, Cassian is completely obsessive when it comes to your safety. Anything that shouldn't be there will be cause for concern and murderous rage. Even if it's just a broken nail, if you weren't the one who broke it, you can be sure that someone will die.
Cassian can't help but be so overprotective, he just wants to take care of you. It's his Illyrian instincts screaming at him to rip apart anyone who poses a threat to you. He's your bodyguard, basically.
He is your biggest fan. If you do anything, he will be rooting for you. If he could, he would wear a t-shirt with your face showing how much pride he has for you. He also constantly seeks your attention and approval.
Cassian would love to train you if you want, although he knows it's dangerous, he wants you to be able to protect yourself if he's not around. He would never forgive himself if something happened to you because he didn't want to teach you how to defend yourself.
Like all males, Cassian is very possessive and jealous and this is nothing new. He gets jealous very easily and generally acts petty about it. In the blink of an eye, he'll be at your side, pulling you into his embrace and staring at whoever made him deathly jealous. No one will take you away from him. No one.
He wants you to be happy with him. That's all he asks. He does not deserve? After all the shit he's been through, Cassian feels like he deserves to be happy and he knows he can only be happy with you. You are everything to him.
Cassian can be called a brute and, although he can often act like that, he is a teddy bear to you. He loves to hold you, hide you in his wings and just be by your side. He needs to always be touching you and not always in a sexual way, he just needs to have confirmation that you are real.
His touches are always soft and gentle on you, as if he's scared of breaking you. Cassian would never forgive himself if he ended up hurting you.
Cassian is a big softie for you. He would never hurt you and would always put you above everything and everyone, including his own family. You are everything to him, his life, his motivation and his reason for breathing. He would die and kill for you in a heartbeat. Cassian just wants to be loved and you are everything he loves, so don't abandon him. He wouldn't react well to that.
He would never force you to stay with him, but Cassian wouldn't let you go. He can't lose anyone else and he won't. You are his and you will always be his.
