✦ Mechanic!Cassian who spends late nights in the garage 'fixing up' a project car that he's been 'working on' for years.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who has one singular pair of jeans that isn't covered in oil and grease. Those are his 'nice' pants.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who kisses you on the forehead before he goes to the shop for the day.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who calls you while he eats the lunch you packed him, praising you, no matter how simple it was.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who calls you 'sweetheart' all the time, but calls you 'baby' when he wants something — usually more parts for the project car.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who forgets to empty his pockets before he takes his pants off, so you have to search the pockets. You usually find money and maybe a couple candy wrappers — occasionally a 10mm socket.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who says he wants a new truck, but refuses to part with the truck that's older than him and has been on its last leg since he was a child.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who yaps a mile a minute about his work day while you listen, even if you don't understand half of what he's talking about.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who constantly smells like a mix of sweat, oil, and his cologne.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who likes it when you come sit with him in the garage while he works.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who listens to divorced dad rock like there's no tomorrow.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who goes to the track with his friends when he's not working or spending quality time with you.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who wipes his hands off on that red shop rag before he pulls you in by the hips for a kiss.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who is tired and pent up after a long day and just needs release.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who takes a shower to get grease and oil off of him before making any move on you, even if you don't care.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who rubs your hips in soothing circles while you cook.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who would take you right there on the counter if you let him (you do).
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who cares more about your pleasure than his own.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who is fuckin' amazing with his hands.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who has a massive breeding kink and a size kink.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who can't get enough of how you taste, feel, and sound when you're with him.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who worships your body like it's something undeniably sacred, despite not being a religious man in a traditional sense.
✦ Mechanic!Cassian who showers you with love and affection after every. . . Romantic. . . Encounter.
Summary: Cassian has always been there for you, best friend until the end. Harboring deep feelings for you without realizing it, he watches you navigate your love-life from the sidelines.
Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence (memories)
Word Count: 2,082
Notes: Fluffy modern Cassian for the win! Shoutout @writingsbychlo for the title <3
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“A royal flush,” Azriel smirks, placing his cards on the table for them all to see.
Rhysands mouth drops in shock and Cassian groans, tossing his head back on his shoulders. His hair pulls and he winces. It’s getting longer and he should get it cut soon but he’s too lazy, and besides, he kind of likes the way it looks when he pulls it into a messy knot at the back of his head.
“Are you shitting me, Az?” he exclaims, all but throwing his cards onto the velvet of the poker table before him. He’s lost the last five hands and Azriel’s on a hot streak, but then again, the quiet man always is. He has better luck than anyone Cassian’s ever known, and he himself is just biding his time until the smirking man across from him wins the lottery. “You have to be cheating!”
Rhys grumbles, letting his measly pair sit face up, mocking him. He reaches for a handful of salty chips, the only thing that will make him feel better about his quickly dwindling wallet, and stuffs them into his mouth. His stomach growls in thanks, but it’s not enough. He clicks on his phone, biting back a smile as he responds to his girlfriend's cheeky text, before hitting the app for Velaris’ local pizza shop – Moon Pie – and adding his saved order to the cart.
Azriel smirks, leaning forward to drag his winnings back to his side of the table. The chips clack in a taunting manner, and Cassian can only glare at the betraying tokens. His friend is quick about it, the marred flash of his skin a beacon for all attention under the dim light of the table. Rhys nor him would ever stare. They’ve known Azriel long enough, had been the ones he’d run to when he was young and his step brothers made a game out of torturing their little brother, burning his hands with their father’s cigar lighter and a bottle of gasoline they’d snuck into the garage to get.
If he thinks about it, Azriel’s terrified scream still rings in his ears, even after all these years. Rhys and him had come running to the next yard over at the screeching but they were both too young to know what to do, and Azriel’s step brothers had turned to them with such wicked grins there was no doubt in hell that Cassian knew he was next to suffer the same fate.
It was Rhysand’s mother who had come to the rescue, dropping the plate into the sud-filled sink at the commotion and sprinting to where her son and his best friends’ screams were coming from. Cassian remembers her looking like a true superhero that day, calm as she helped Azriel stifle the flames. Nychta was on the phone quicker than he’d ever seen someone move, calling for both the police and an ambulance, screaming something about third-degree burns on a child and to get there as soon as they could.
She had always been a light in their lives, and became a mother to all three of them. Azriel’s own was away too often to be a stable parental figure in his life, and after what had happened with his step-brothers he was bound to be put into the system if Rhysand’s mother hadn’t stepped in.
Cassian was just another malnourished child from the trailer park, running around the neighborhood barefoot and holes in his shirts with a father that had run at the first sign of trouble and a mother he couldn’t remember. Nychta had gladly taken him into her home without complaint.
But she had died when they were teens, when all they wanted to do was graffiti walls down by the highway and didn’t give a shit about what any figure of authority had to say. She’d been driving Rhys’ younger sister to her dance recital and Rhys had reluctantly talked them into attending, saying he’d let them drive the brand new car his father had gotten him for his seventeenth birthday, when he’d gotten the call. There was an accident, Cassian heard through the phone…mother and sister are gone…my condolences.
None of them had driven that car for an entire year after that.
“Pizza will be here in thirty,” Rhys says, snapping Cassian from his harrowing memories. He’s grimacing, jaw clenched so tightly it aches when he opens it to choke down a swig of his beer. Azriel normally doesn’t miss a thing, but he’s focused on organizing his poker chips into neat stacks by color, five per pile.
He drags his gaze back to his own tokens, lips pulling downward when he sees how many he has left. They’ve only been playing for an hour but the hundred dollars he’d managed to scrounge up this week didn’t last him long, and he’ll be forced into watching if he doesn’t start winning soon.
“Veggie?” Az asks without looking up from his task.
Rhys rolls his eyes, answering, “Yes, Az.” He’s suddenly gone vegetarian for a girl he’d met in his earlier-than-even-satan-rises hot yoga class. The two haven’t even talked yet but Cassian has heard about it more times than he can count. He and Rhys have multiple bets going on: if Azriel will make a move, how long it takes him to start eating meat again, and he’ll be damned if he loses.
He’s tired of losing.
“Meat extreme?” Cassian asks, mimicking Azriel. His friend cuts him a sharp glare from beneath the dark fringe hanging over his eyes, gleaming gold like nocturnal animals, but Cassian only grins. He’s also made a pact that for every meatless meal Azriel eats, he’ll have double, and the way it annoys his friend is just the icing on his cake.
Rhysand puffs a laugh, dealing out another round of cards. “Yes, Cass, meat-heart-attack-extreme for you. Extra large.”
“Aces,” he sighs, grabbing a handful of pretzels to stuff in his mouth. He feels like the cat that’s got the cream but the emotion drains from his body when he sees the hand he’s been dealt.
“You fuckers can’t tell me that you’re not cheating,” he explodes, crumbles of pretzels spewing into the new pile of bets.
Rhys and Azriel share a look before they burst into a fit of laughter, wiping fake tears from their eyes and slapping their knees like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever seen.
Cassian can assure them that it’s not.
“I knew you could count cards, you fucking prick,” he grumbles to Azriel, shoving his chair back from the table as a knock on the door sounds. They’re at his and Az’s place tonight, not Rhysand’s mega-mansion because his long-term girlfriend is hosting a wine and painting party that Cassian knows is secretly a vodka spritzer and gossipping party.
He can hear his friends snickering all the way to the door and he nearly rips it off of its hinges, ready to take his budding annoyance out on the poor delivery driver.
But it’s not the kid in his teens delivering pizzas in his moms minivan standing before him. It’s you, glassy-eyed and streaks of tears cutting down your cheeks, even though you’d tried so hard to keep your composure after rubbing the droplets away.
Your smile wobbles but breaks into a desperate sob that has Cassian’s heart plummeting to the floor. “Hey, Cassian.”
His brows slant angrily and his grip on the doorknob tightens for a moment as he scowls over your shoulder. He’s quick to pull you into his chest and his warmth is as comforting as ever, even if his body is rigid with temper.
“Who did this to you? What happened?” he demands, hands finding your hair, twisting his fingers through your locks to scratch soothingly at your scalp as he drags you inside. His heart flutters at your proximity, the way you’re clinging to his shirt, but he mistakes the feeling as one of nervousness for you, furious on your behalf because his best friend shouldn’t be showing up at his house, crying.
“It’s nothing,” you snivel. “I’m just overreacting.”
“There’s no such thing,” he murmurs, squeezing your tighter. He can hear how his friends have gone quiet in the dining room. The sounds of your muffled sobs have caught their attention and he bristles because they shouldn’t be snooping. “Rhys and Az are here,” Cassian adds quietly, “Just so you know.”
You pull from his arms with a horrified look that would normally make him laugh. It’s not so funny when it’s paired with your puffy eyes and red nose.
“Oh my Gods,” you exclaim, trying to shove yourself from his arms. “I didn’t–I mean I really should have known, but please, Cass, don’t let me ruin your night. I’ll just go home and put on–”
His large hand caresses your chin, halting your words as he tilts your face to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes is stern, as is his voice when he says, “You’re never intruding. Rhys and Az can fuck off for all I care,” he adds, loud enough that conversation in the other room picks back up again. You roll your eyes fondly at his two friends that have also turned into yours.
Cassian’s voice drops again, thumb stroking across your tear stained cheek. “What happened?”
Tears brim your eyes again and your lip wobbles. Damn. He’d done a good job at distracting you and now you’re about to cry again. There’s a tug in his chest.
“It turns out Eris Vanserra isn’t all he cracks up to be,” you laugh wetly, and Cassian frowns.
He’d known it from the moment he’d seen Eris that the cocky asshole would break your heart. He’d spent days online looking into the man’s life when you had announced you were seeing him, and he didn’t like a thing he’d found.
But you’d been so happy that he told himself he wouldn’t ruin it for you. He was just being a jealous man, wanted what Eris had and had always been too cowardly to make a move. You hadn’t waited around for him either, didn’t know to.
You and Cassian had always skirted the line as something more, but that was just who you were, easygoing and ready to give anyone the shit they gave you.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says softly, but you scoff.
“Whatever, Cass. I know you didn’t like him.”
“No,” he agrees, “But I won’t do the whole ‘I told you so’ thing, don’t worry.”
You huff, shoving at his shoulder. “You just did.”
Cassian laughs and it warms your heart, stitching the pieces together in the only way a best friend can. You knew you’d come to the right person with your heartbreak. You’d rather be laughing through the pain than wallowing in it, and Cassian was just the person to pull you from your funk.
“Well, only the one time then,” he winks, giving you a squeeze as another knock on the door sounds. It’s the pizza this time and he thanks the driver before turning back to you, arms stacked with pies. “Why don’t you get settled in my room and I’ll meet you there for dinner? I’ll even make Az trade me half of his because I got meat extreme.”
“I don’t know how you eat that,” you crinkle your nose. “The cheese and bread are drowned out by the pound of meat on that thing!”
Cassian rolls his eyes fondly. “Spoken like a true carb fiend.”
Your soft smile turns serious, gaze flickering towards the wall that separates you from Rhys and Az. “It’s okay, Cass, have your boys night. I’ll be fine.”
“No,” he disagrees, balancing the pizzas in one hand while the other takes hold of your arm. He’ll drag you to his room if he has to. “You’re staying. I can see those assholes whenever.”
“Hey,” Rhys calls from the dining room and you laugh. He knew they were eavesdropping. “This asshole bought you dinner!”
Ignoring his friend, Cassian responds loudly. “They’re cheating!”
You scowl through the wall at them, as if they can see the way you’re mentally scolding them. “Well, in that case, we should take their pizzas and let them starve.”
Chairs scrape across the floor with protests and you squeal as they round the corner, zeroing in on you. Cassian gives you a gentle shove towards his room and puffs his chest, “Go! I’ll distract them!”
Okay so this is essentially what was supposed to happen in Ace of Hearts lol butttt
You show up at Cassian’s place, all teary eyed and upset.
His blood immediately boils for you, fingers curling into fists before he’s ripping them apart and tugging you into one of his famous hugs that always make you feel better.
Today is not the case.
A bad date with Eris Vanserra, is what happened. Didn’t treat you as he should’ve. That’s why you’re crying.
Cassian’s always had a crush on you, but he doesn’t think he’s deserving of you. He lets you stay over, you binge eat pizza together and junk food and watch movies and it makes you feel so much better, it does, but you want to date someone. You want the hand holding, the kisses, the cuddles, the sex.
And Cassian won’t make a move, despite the amount of times Az and Rhys have told him he should go for things with you.
So, he sets you up on some dates, watches from afar, listens to your complaints and the successes, the hole in his heart depending with each story you tell.
He starts finding himself working late nights to avoid you because he doesn’t want to hear about the touching and the kissing. He wants to be the one touching and kissing you. Not those other fucks.
He’s building up a vintage bronco that he bought from some old man. He’d been driving by his house and forced azriel to pull over because that was the one. It hadn’t been anything more than a drive shaft and the shell, and he’s saved up as much money as he could to fix the interior and restore it. There’s a long way to go and so what if he’s been living off of ramen for the past year?
You have a fight, both saying things that neither of you mean. You’ve never fought with cassian before, not like this. There’s an event you were invited to and you wanted Cassian’s opinion on a dress. You miss him, you want to spend a little time with him, you never see each other anymore.
He tells you just to leave. And you do.
You show up to the shop one night, missing him deeply. He’s covered in grease, fingerprints of black on his cheeks from where he’d wiped away some sweat. His hands are black with oil and dirt and whatever else this crusty car had graced him with. But you don’t care, you’re done with waiting. You step into him, dress be fucking damned, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you.
It’s hot, it’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to Cassian. This is a fantasy, his wildest dream come true, but you’re here, you came for him.
The tools clang as they fall from his hands and he’s sweeping you up, staining the fabric of your dress with his dirty hands. Neither of you give a fuck, finally falling head-first into the feelings you’ve been avoiding for ages.
Cassian lies you back on the hood of his car, and he wish he could touch you gently but he fucking can’t. He’s biting, sucking, ripping your dress off of your body. He’s marking your skin with his lips, with the grease on his hands, and he’ll mark you with his cum too. He feels like he’s waited all his life for this.
He spreads your thighs wide, leaving handprints as he eats you out. You arch and he hums, the taste of you exploding on his tongue. He’s feral with it, like he’s dying and your cunt is the cure, drawing the best, bone-shaking orgasm you’ve ever had.
You help him line his cock up to your soaking entrance because his hands are still black. And he grips you tightly, hissing at how perfect you feel, how well you fit him and clench around him and cry out for him. You leave long marks down his back, pull him closer with nails dug into his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist. You need more of him, all of him, everything from here until forever with him.
