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.
A/N: i tried, I really did, but it’s so difficult for me to imagine him not being regretful of the way he acted :/ (maybe I’ll just have to get some more practice in since I think I accidentally combined dark!Cassian with soft!dom!Cassian)
Summary: reader is friends with both Cassian and Eris, though has a marriage of convenience to the heir of the Autumn Court. Despite their feelings being no deeper than friendship, reader refuses to take things further with anyone else—much to the General’s frustration.
Word Count: 3,369
-Part 2-
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“We’re going to have to start trying for an heir soon.”
He goes rigid, poised to tip the bottle higher, wine just at the lip—on the verge of spilling into your glass. Lowers it. “What?”
His voice is hoarse, strain carving itself into the downward twist of his mouth. Peer at your empty cup; bring it back to your chest, figuring he’s not going to fill it. Swallow thickly. “We’ve been married for nearly half a century, and…plans are moving faster than we anticipated.”
Plans, Cassian thinks. For Eris to ascend the throne. Of course he’ll need an heir, but… “So soon?”
Nod solemnly, still peering at your empty cup, not meeting his eyes. The hurt that will be there. You’re in desperate need of more alcohol, suddenly finding yourself sobered and too clear in the head. “As I said, things are moving faster than we expected.”
He blinks slowly, fisting the neck of the bottle. “But a baby,” he emphasises lowly. “You’re going to have that bastard’s child?”
You shoot him a dark glance. “My child,” you correct, “it will be mine as much as his.” You don’t bother wasting breath on starting down that already worn path with him—your fundamental disagreement over your husband’s character; his morals.
Lower your gaze, attempting to soften the situation. It can’t be easy for him. To watch this happen to you. “It’s not a decision we take lightly, Cassian,” you say, quietly. “We’ve spoken about this together. Spoken about it for a while now.” Run your thumb over the lip of the mug, feeling the rough, unglazed ceramic. “We’ve agreed on this. We’re fine with it.”
“You don’t even love one another,” he reminds, tersely. “How are you planning on raising it?”
“We do love each other,” you say softly. Stare deeper into your cup. “Just…just not in the way married couples are traditionally supposed to.” Swallow again. “You know this, Cassian. It was going to happen eventually.” Beside you he shakes his head, lowering the bottle to the bedside table—the two of you having made the trip to his chambers hours ago. It’s comfier when it’s just the two of you—instead of being forced to mingle with the rest of his family. Sometimes it’s better when it’s just the two of you.
“You said it wouldn’t happen for another few centuries,” he reminds, drinking directly from the bottle this time. “Two hundred years,” he states softly, “I had two hundred years to…” Lower your head, guilt settling in the pit of your belly.
“I’m sorry, Cassian.”
Silence stretches between you, allowing it to settle while he comprehends the truth you’ve just revealed to him. You’ll never be his. Not now Eris is claiming you.
“So when you go back tomorrow…” he begins slowly, knuckles whitening as he grips the bottle. “When you go back to him. And night falls…”
“Don’t think about it,” you murmur, circling the rim of the mug. “I just…I wanted to tell you so it wouldn’t come as a surprise. So you’d have time to…”
He nods slowly, almost absently, “so I’d have time to…”
Lick your lips; turn your head to look at him. “Cassian, I—”
“You could stay here.”
Blink…twice. Stare at him. “I… What?”
“You could stay here,” he states firmly, hand warming your own. “Rhys could help. He would help.”
Blink again in confusion. “Cassian…”
“You don’t have to go through with it,” he says, head turned to the side to peer down at you. “You can— You can stay.” Throat bobs, gripping your hand tighter.
Neither of you have ever really gotten around to discussing this. His feelings for you. Always left alone, neglected. Gently shunned away, encouraged to stay out of sight. Now the consequences are arising, having been disregarded for too long.
“Cassian,” you sigh, brows curving with sorrow. You don’t enjoy hurting him. “You know I can’t do that. Eris and I agreed to this nearly a century ago. I’m not backing out now—not when we’ve come so far.” Sigh again, averting your gaze to your lap. “I… I want you to be the godfather,” you admit softly. “If things go wrong… If for some reason they get left alone in this world…I trust you to take care of them.”
Inhale deeply, eyes lock with his. “But I understand if that’s not what you want.”
He stares at you, emotion swirling in the depths of his hazel gaze. Breath shudders out of him, pupils dilating as he takes you in, nostrils flaring delicately. “Are you serious?” Swallow, but nod your head solemnly. Your name whispers from his lips, a pained breath rattling from his lungs. Strained and hoarse. “You can’t do that to me,” he begs, softly. “I’ve done awful things,” he whispers, shifting to face you. Stiffen as he cups your cheek. “Terrible, butchering things…” …but I don’t deserve this.
Eyes flick down to your mouth; wariness twists in your chest. He’s not drunk, but he’s certainly not sober. Heartbeat spikes.
“You know how I feel about you,” he whispers, tilting your face upward. “You know what I want from you. What I want for you.”
“Cassian…”
“I can’t give you what he can,” he breathes, pain flickering in hazel eyes. “I can’t give you a fancy title, or treat you with the reverence you deserve. But I’d be good to you. I’d love you. Thoroughly.”
“Cassian—”
“Stop torturing yourself,” he grits out, brows digging to the centre. “Stop torturing me.”
His hand slinks down your jaw, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, hairs rising with apprehension as he stalks closer, prowling in on your senses. “You’re throwing away your life,” he pleads roughly, “can’t you see that?” Carefully holds you still, delicately angling your head to face him. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Put your hand against his chest—firmly. “You’re taking this too far.”
Cassian stiffens, looking as though you just smacked him.
Jaw tightens, gripping your hair in his fist.
“That’s all you have to say?” He mutters. “I carve out my own heart, and you return it in a bucket? Beaten, and bloody?” Breathing quickens, no longer deep nor slow. “I love you. I love you so much I ache” —brows knit together, pain searing through his eyes— “and yet you’re going to let that snake put a baby in you?”
Lips part in a sharp inhale, one he tracks keenly. “Let me go.”
“No.”
You blink, eyes widening marginally. Taken aback. “I—…what? Let me go.”
“No.”
Breathing quickens, gripping the handle of your mug before raising it, swinging for his jaw but—
Quick as lightening, rough as thunder, he surges forward, mug colliding with his shoulder as you’re flipped on your back, shoved down into his mattress. The cup flies from your hand, knocked away, shattering on the floor. Warrior’s hands pin you by your collar bone and waist, his touch brutal and merciless.
“I just need you once,” he whispers, your hands shaking as they try to pry him off you. Horror sluices through your gut, the veiled implication having bile rise in your throat. “Just once,” he breathes, lips grazing your own. “Just once to taste you. To have you.” The flat of his palm glides up your front, tracing the curve of your breasts. Spanning between them, feeling your heartbeat.
Fingers try to slide beneath his hands, attempting to pry him off you, one joint at a time but he stays secure, latched onto your body. “Cassian,” you stammer, panic pumping in your blood, fear leeching through your clothes, his nostrils flaring delicately. Hurt flickers, then he’s leaning down, attaching the warm, wet heat of his mouth to your throat.
Inhale sharply, frozen to the bed as his tongue licks over your neck, sick roiling in the pit of your stomach. Lips seal over your skin, sucking a mark into you. Teeth nip at your throat, biting a bruise into you. Fingers tremble as you shake beneath him, utterly overpowered by his warrior’s strength.
“Cassian,” you beg, voice breaking. “Cassian, stop.” Canines pierce deeper, shoulders bunching as you try to squirm away. He pulls back, pupils dilated, skin flushed as he peers down at his catch, greedily devouring the way you wriggle and writhe—how beautifully supple your movements are. And his mark on your neck, the imprint of his teeth…
Hands drop to the hem of your top, head quietening as he raises the fabric, peeling it from your stomach. Mouth waters as he takes you in, the softness of your breasts; the perkiness of your nipples. Exhales heavily, finally allowing himself to ponder all the ways to have you. Accepting them as reality.
Below him, tears stream silently, too shocked to fully acknowledge the events. Blessed numbness tingles across your skin, unable to feel as his lips press to yours, tongue exploring the wet heat of your mouth, tasting everything he can get. Arm slides beneath your waist, spine arching into him, hand gripping your hair, angling your mouth so he can go deeper. The corners of your mouth wetting as saliva builds until he pulls away, a stray, gleaming thread connecting you.
Thumb swipes your lip, brushing it away. Calls your name faintly. It’s far off; distant. “I need you with me,” he murmurs over your lips. “Need you to feel this. Need you to feel me.”
Panic crashes into you, terror spurring you into action as you curl your hand into a fist, moving to slam it into his jaw. His large palm softens the blow, dulling the impact as you shove his shoulder, legs raising to kick at his hips, jab your heel into the top of his thigh to make the muscle spasm.
He snarls roughly at the attack, hips pressing between your own before you even have a change to pull back, arms move to pin your wrists, his lip curled in fury and pain. “Let me go,” you breathe shakily, voice cracking, breaths shallow and fast. “Cassian please,” you cry, “don’t do this. You can’t— You can’t do this.” Lip wobbles as you stare up at him, despair carved into your features.
Hazel softens at the edges, and he hushes you in attempts to soothe. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, wanting nothing more than to cup your face in his hands and pull your lips to his, to press kisses to your skin. To press them into your skin. “It’s okay,” he repeats softly, “you’ll feel good.” Struggle intensifies, thrashing as you try to yank your arms away.
He grits his teeth, not liking having to see you so desperate to get away from him. Hurt singing in his heart. Is he really that bad?
Puts his mouth over your own, kissing desperately, attempting to fix what he’s already begun to break. Tears run back into your hair, whimpering as his tongue strokes over your own, hips grinding against your soft centre. Toes curl, thighs squeeze, hating your response to this. To him.
This isn’t how he was supposed to have you. He was supposed to wait until it was over. Then you’d have your happily ever after.
Bite down on him, metallic liquid spilling into your mouth as he hisses, pulling away. His blood is thick and rich on your tongue, almost spicy. Dark crimson blooms at the corner of his lips, and your heart picks up as he stares down at you, the look of utter betrayal in his eyes.
“I thought you wanted this,” he murmurs softly, so softly. “You—… We had something together.” The devastation on his features has your stomach roiling. “We were good together.” Brows curve upward in pain as he holds you down, hands putting bruises into your wrists. “You—… Cassian…” Pain flickers in your chest at the carnage he’s wrought in bare minutes. Decades of friendship and something more set to ash.
His eyes cloud, conflict warring behind the lenses. Swallows thickly…releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumbing away the tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, head bowing in sorrow. Maybe you can still work through this. All he’s done is kiss you, and… You swallow thickly.
The General stares down at you, emotion clouding his gaze. Lust and hunger dancing their painful waltz, torturing his soul as he’s set ablaze by the need for you. To feel your softness beneath his fingertips. Just once. Just once all to himself. And if he’s already started…
Blood ices over as he roughly flips you round, pressing your face into the mattress as his arm snakes beneath your hips, ass sticking in the air. Scream and thrash as he rolls against you, groaning with relief as pressure is assuaged. Curses lowly as he grinds into the softness of your heat. Slow, decadent rolls of his hips as he basks in the pleasure, lips parted breathlessly.
“I know this isn’t how you wanted it,” he groans quietly, feeling how his fingers tremble as they grip your waist. “I know you wanted me to wait.” Hands lower to the hem of your skirts, fabric dragging up the backs of your thighs. “I know I’ve ruined it for you.”
Presses a kiss to the highest notch of your spine, other hand dipping beneath your top, working it away from your body. Palms at your breast, feeling your softness filling his hand. “But I can’t,” he grits out, pain evident in his voice. Hearing as he tears the both of you apart. “I can’t let him take this from me too,” he confesses quietly. “I need you to be mine—for one night. I need to have you completely, or he’ll—” voice catches, breaking off, brow resting on the uppermost knuckle of your back. “He can’t have you, too. Not when he has everything else. Not when you’re the only thing I’ve ever truly wanted.”
His hand slides between your legs, and you sob into the mattress, knowing you can’t push him off. Nailing digging into the sheets until your hands feel like they’ll cramp.
Fingers find your clit, rubbing tenderly to soften you for him, so you’ll be ready to take him. Circles your entrance, gentling touching and prodding, then drops back to the apex of your thighs. Teeth graze your neck, tongue licking over your skin tenderly, sucking his marks over the previous ones—as if he can fix them.
You cry, muffled by his bed, his scent invading your lungs. It’s everywhere. Infused into his sheets, filling his room, warming your chest as he presses against your back. Wings drape over the mattress, content to laze as he allows wetness to build between your thighs before turning to the strings of his leathers.
A small part of him is relieved that you’re no longer struggling when he pulls away to loosen the ties—it would be too much. Instead your shoulders shudder with hushed sobs, hands fisting the sheets as you wait for him to shatter you completely. Regret and lust twine together, bejewelled in barbs that scratch and tear at the bloody chambers of his heart.
He hesitates, cock aching in his large hand, needing to be inside of you already. You’re right there, back arched so perfectly, glistening in the low light. Mouth waters.
Within your own mind you’re slowly counting back from one thousand, subtracting seven at a time, attempting to pull away from him as you await the almost inevitable pain that will come when he attempts to breech you. You’ve seen his wingspan, and you know he’ll be large. Prepare yourself for the sting.
Instead his mouth latches over your cunt, tongue licking gently, flicking over your clit, ravishing you with wet warmth, softening you further. Getting you to relax before the split. Nails slice deeper into the mattress with fear and anticipation as he indulges. Lapping up the traitorous arousal that’s slicking your entrance.
The General groans, feeling dizzy as he tastes you, wishing to simply seat you on his face for the rest of the night, but…
A painful twinge of arousal lacerates through his lower body, aching to press into you, to join together at last.
Swallowing, he pulls away, a silvery string of arousal connecting his lips to your cunt. Strokes himself at the sight, biting his lip as he attempts to restrain himself.
“I’ll be gentle,” he comforts, hand rubbing soothingly over your hip. “I promise it won’t hurt. You’ll like it.” A small, broken sound makes it’s way up to his ears, and his heart nearly breaks in response. But he can’t stop now. Not when he’s so close.
His tip presses to your entrance, your own hips squirming until he grips them lightly, keeping you in place. Your toes curl with fear, tears long since dampening the duvet below as you cry. Thighs squeeze together as he holds you tight, insisting on pulling you back against him, instead of pushing into you. Perhaps a pathetic attempt to convince himself that you want it too. To save himself from wrecking his own mind.
But your mouth parts as he eases you against him, lips stretching wide as he fills you up. Feel him in your stomach, hips tight against the backs of your thighs. Soft, heavy pants breathe from behind you, his chest heating your back. Arms leave your waist to fold over your stomach, palming your breasts; sliding between your thighs as he grinds into you.
“Does it hurt?” He asks, thumbing at your clit gently. Rubbing in slow, tantalising circles. When you don’t reply—don’t so much as react—he tries again. “Does it feel good? Finally being connected like this?” Lips brush the nape of your neck, hairs rising as he pinches your nipple, rough and calloused fingertips playing with the sensitive peak.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Hips roll forward, a quiet little sound being forced from your throat as horrifying pleasure unspools itself. His ears perk up, attention piercing into you. Repeats the action, dragging the sound from you again. Feeling as you tighten around him. His heart aches with relief, kissing up your neck, nipping at your ear. “Yeah? You’re enjoying it? Can you feel me there?”
His palm spans your lower abdomen, pressing lightly to increase the pressure, your lips parting wider in pleasure. Somehow touching all those lovely spots.
His breathing quickens as he drags his hips back, then presses in to the hilt, arousal spilling down your heat as he moves a little faster, keeping a gentle but regular pace. “Forget about him,” he urges. “For tonight, you can be mine. Without consequence, or worry.” Noses up your throat, mouth latching to a spot beneath your ear. “Be mine,” he pants, hips bucking sharply. “Release yourself,” he urges, “just let go.”
Pace becomes rougher; more intense as the rhythm becomes punishing, slamming in. Fucking you into his bed. “Let go, and I’ll catch you.”
Spine stretches beneath his hands, nails tearing at the fabric as you flutter around him, lips parted in shocked pleasure as the high crests over you, intense and daunting. Confused sounds spill from your lips as the ecstasy sweeps you away, his cock abusing spots that have you sobbing, fingers easily swiping across your clit, easing you into the climax.
Cassian groans at your back, no doubt feeling the evidence of your orgasm as you squeeze him. Canines pierce his lip, biting as you send him to the heavens, leathery wings going taut, snapping closed, then shuddering as he grinds his cock into your heat. Hot spurts of cum shooting from his tip, filling you up.
Arousal blurs your mind, muscles spasming while your mind goes blessedly blank, narrowing to the feel of him inside, rubbing against you perfectly.
It’s not until both of you are still and panting that he moves to pull out, and you know without seeing that his cum is spilling down your thighs.
Trembles as his fingers run over your glistening heat, collecting it up. Pressing it back inside, making sure it’s kept deep and warm.
He’ll face the consequences in the morning.
But for tonight…
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can you write love letter for the bat boys (acotar)?
Azriel
My love,
From the moment I laid my eyes on you, my dear, my life has taken on an indescribable purpose. Every breath I take is for you, my beloved, the only reason my heart beats a frantic beat.
I know my love can be overwhelming, and maybe you fear the depths of my passions. But understand, my sweet beloved, that I would do anything to protect our love. No one else can have you, for you are mine and mine forever.
When I realize that someone approaches you, my jealousy takes over me. The very idea of losing you torments me, and I would do anything to stop that from happening. Please don't force me to take drastic measures to preserve what we have.
I would hate have to hurt you.
Remember, my beloved, that everything I do, I do for love. Every act of possessiveness is just a demonstration of how much you mean to me. I love you more than life itself, and I would do anything to keep you safe and by my side forever.
With eternal love,
Az.
Rhysand
(Y/N) darling,
Since the moment you came into my life, my world has taken on colors I would never have imagined. You are the light that illuminates my days, the reason why my heart beats fastr. I would do anything for you, my dear, even if it means crossing all boundaries.
I know my love can be intense, sometimes even suffocating, but understand that it's only because you're the most precious thing I've ever had. I can't bear the thought of losing you to someone else. You're mine, and I'm yours, willing to do whatever it takes to make sure no one else has you.
Sometimes, I look at others who approach you, and envy takes over me. I can't help it, my love. It's like a beast takes over my heart, begging me to protect what's mine. I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, even if it means killing everyone who tries to intrude.
You are mine and only mine.
I love you more than life itself, and I can't imagine a world where you aren't mine. Always receber that.
With an everlasting love,
Rhys.
Cassian
My flame,
From the moment our paths crossed in that forest, my life took a turn I could never have predicted. You are the fire that lights up my days and the moon that guides my nights. Every thought, every action it's for you my unwavering passion.
My love for you is so deep, so intense, that sometimes I fear it cannot be contained. I would do anything to protect our love, my beloved. Nothing and no one should dare to approach you, for you are mine, and I am your guardian.
When I see others approaching you, a wild beast takes hold of me, an overwhelming jealousy that I can't control. It's possessive, yes, but it's just a demonstration of how much you mean to me. I would do anything, absolutely anything, to make sure you are mine alone.
I would never let anyone have you.
Remember, my beloved, that my love for you is eternal and unbreakable. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe and by my side.
