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azsazz · 5 months ago

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Tell Me I'm Your Midnight

Kinktober Day 13: Cassian x Reader [Virgin!Reader]

Summary: In the middle of the night in the middle of your thoughts, you want a distraction.

Warnings: Smut, descriptions of death,

Word Count: 3350

Notes: Yeesh, bout time I hopped back on these...OOF Cassian how i've missed you big boy 💙💙💙

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The moonlight spilling in through the open doors of your balcony does nothing to settle the aching in your chest. From your place in bed, you watch the stars sparkle in the blackness of night. The gentle and cool breeze makes your curtains sway, and the moon is so bright in the sky that you can make out the shapes of every piece of furniture in your room, the silhouette of the Starfall dress wrapped tightly around the figurine in the shape of your body.

Cerridwen and Naula had been so very eager to show you what they came up with for Starfall and the dress had brought you to tears—your first glimpse of the deep navy fabric draped elegantly across the bodice of the dummy had the tears you’ve been desperately trying to shove inside of you for months spilling over. You had collapsed into a puddle of emotion on the floor like you aren’t the High Lord’s sister, but the sight of your mother’s Starfall dress from last year reworked to fit your body made the dam of emotion burst within you.

Oh, how deeply you miss your mother.

The thick comforter surrounding you does nothing to ease the clenching of your heart. It’s another sleepless night, haunted with images of what happened to your mother out in those lands of the Night Court she shouldn’t have been riding alone in. All to see your brother and check in on him during his time at the camps.

Something in your gut twists like a hot knife. It’s your anger flooding your senses at the thought of how she’d been brutally attacked and left for dead, succumbing to her own injuries. She was all alone out there, and you would have been too, if it weren’t for the request of your father that you stay in Velaris with him until his meeting with Keir was over, the promise that he’d winnow you to the camps and meet up with Rhysand and your mother later.

You’d always been excited about the prospect of winnowing, and you thought that if you stayed back to tag along with your father that he might teach you how to do it yourself.

These days, you wonder if he had set the ambush up himself, a deal struck with those from the Spring Court who you’ve been told had done the terrible awful.

He died before you got the chance to ask.

With a heavy sigh, you shove the blankets back and climb out of bed. You forgo a robe, letting the perpetual chill the deepening autumn airs bring forth settle into your bones. You need the bite of the cold floors to ground yourself, the prickling of your fingers, toes, and the tip of your nose because it had been the same cold your mother had endured for so long.

The House of Wind is silent except for the soft padding of your feet against the hardwood floors. You slow your pace, treading very carefully as you creep past Azriel’s room, biting your lip at the sight of the swirling shadows like a cloud of smoke curling beneath the doorframe, always on lookout for their master. If they report to him that you’re awake, he may try to console you in that way of his, where he sits silently in the same vicinity as you. Most of the time, you appreciate his ability to care for others without words, but tonight, you just want to be alone.

In the kitchen, you fill the kettle and set it on the burner, flicking the flames as they lick the bottom of the teapot. While you wait for it to heat, you slice into a lemon, breathing in its fresh scent. It’s relaxing, even though it reminds you of your mother, who would make you a cup of warm lemon water on the nights you were unable to find sleep. She’d often join you in the kitchen, lending an ear to whatever was on your mind.

Tonight, it makes your throat tight.

You climb up to the counter with your made mug between your hands, feet dangling off the floor as you think about her. You swear you can feel her presence, see her at the kitchen as she looked out over the vast mountains of your home, watching the butters and creams of the sunset. Or how she’d pretend not to notice when you snuck into the kitchen and snagged a taste of whatever she was making that night.

It brings a soft, sad smile to your face that falls at the sound of approaching footsteps drawing your attention to the door. Your shoulders sag because you wanted to be alone, but your heart kickstarts in your chest when Cassian is the one who stumbles through the archway.

His hair is mussed with sleep, but it looks like it may have been a restless attempt. He blinks groggily, clearing his throat at the sight of you.

“What are you doing down here?” You ask him. It’s a whisper of your surprise and delight of the beautiful male creeping into the kitchen. The cup in your hands is warm, matching the feeling that his eyes bring forth.

His sleepy gaze hardens into something that you can’t make out in the dark as it creeps up your bare legs to where the hem of your night shirt rests against your thighs. You’re careful not to move as he takes his fill, a moment of weakness in the dark for the both of you, a small acknowledgement of the charge in the air.

His hazel eyes sweep upward, lingering on the perk of your nipples where they’ve gone tight under his gaze. You swear you catch him shuddering, but he’s shaking the tightness from his wings, finally stepping further into the room with a shrug, his stare now pinned to the ground.

“Felt like this is where I needed to be,” he answers lamely, but it means more to you than maybe it should. He could be awake for any reason this late at night. Surely, he has enough on his mind with the looming war that’s headed the Night Court’s way. “Why are you up?” He asks, leaning against the counter across from you and crossing his arms over his chest.

You have to consciously remove your eyes from the sight of his bulging muscles, instead focusing on the slice of lemon that’s swirling around in your cup. “Couldn’t sleep. Was thinking about mom.”

Before your next breath, Cassian’s body collides with yours, those strong eyes you were just forcing yourself not to ogle wrapped tightly around you. You squeak in surprise, you didn’t even hear him launch himself across the kitchen, but you easily melt into Cassian’s comforting hold, tears prickling at the back of your eyes as you squeeze them shut tight.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he admits softly, and the warmth of his breath caressing your hair makes you shiver, makes you want to burrow even further into him. He has nothing to be sorry for, he’s not only lost one mother, but now two, since she had taken both Cassian and Azriel in like they were part of her own brood.

When Cassian straightens, he’s already too far away. He stays close, hazel eyes boring into yours as he brushes some of your hair behind your ear, examining you. His touch is a brand across your skin, sending electric zipping through your veins, making you sit taller. Cassian still towers over you, but he seems distracted, thumb stroking across your cheek, drifting down to your mouth to where your tongue darts out to wet them.

His admission is a whisper that strikes you to your very core. “As selfish as this may sound, I’m glad that you weren’t there that night.”

“Me too,” you breathe, trying to crane yourself further into him, to see if he’s finally going to act on the arousal a thick cloud surrounding the both of you.

You don’t need to stretch far because he’s as drawn to you as you are to him, and he kisses you full on the mouth, hard at first, like a desperate man finally getting a taste of the nectar he’s been yearning for his entire life.

Cassian’s hands caress your face, turning you this way and that as your tongues brush in a motion that makes your mind short circuit. He steps closer and your thighs open wide for him to fit between like two perfect pieces of a puzzle.

His hand slips between your legs and you whimper with anticipation that he might touch you there, but he’s only taking your cup in hand and sliding it away so that it doesn’t fall and shatter.

There’s no time to be disappointed though because the feeling of the warmth from your mug is easily replaced by that of his cock trapped in his sleep pants, especially when his hands grab a firm hold of your ass, dragging you closer to grind against him.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Cassian says, even though his cock twitches because you’ve captured his lower lip between your teeth and refuse to let go, knowing that he might try and push you away after so quickly giving into what he’s desperately wanted for years.

“Don’t,” you pant, burying your fingers in his hair to keep him close. If this is the only taste of Cassian that you get, you’re going to make the most of it.

He falls into you easily, and the both of you lose yourselves in each other. Your pussy is uncomfortably wet and grinding yourself against his clothed cock isn’t doing much to relieve the aching in your clit. Your whimper of frustration is swallowed greedily by the man towering over you.

“Please, Cassian,” you plead when he’s finally able to tear himself from your lips. Your fingers are fisted around the waistband of his pants so that he can’t escape. “Help me take my mind off of everything.”

He curses because it sounds fucking tempting to have you right here and now, with the moonlight washing in through the kitchen windows and spilling across the counter, your body.

The way you’re looking up at him has him fucking weak. He’d fall to his knees right now, which is exactly what happens when he sees that confidence manifest in your gaze, releasing him only to lean back and strip yourself of your night shirt, baring yourself to him completely.

Your name is a low growl from his lips. It makes your incredibly hard nipples tighten even further, and you hiss in pleasure as he flicks one of them, his gaze hot and dark and utterly consumed by you.

His palm flattens and you arch into his warmth with a soft moan. Your head rolls back on your shoulders because you’ve never had this before, never felt something so sure, something so perfect. Cassian growls at the exposure of your neck, drawn into you like a moth to a pyre, shoving his nose into your throat to catch your scent, heady for him.

“We shouldn’t,” he groans like a dying man.

“We should,” you cry at the nip of his sharp teeth, melting under the sweep of his tongue he uses to smooth the hurt. “Want you to be my first, Cass. Please!”

He freezes against you, completely ignoring the way that you’re writhing against him because all he can focus on are those few words.

“Your first?” His voice is husky, settling right between your thighs. Cassian’s gaze is enamored, desperate almost. You’ve seen that look on the battlefield once or twice, a bloodthirsty one that screams his victory. You’d shy away from its intensity if you weren’t so sure about this.

You swallow harshly. “Yes.”

“You mean that no one has touched these beautiful breasts?” He asks, dragging his large hands to where he’s mentioning. He’s completely consumed by you as he tweaks a nipple in his hands, his mouth coming down hot against the other. You nearly bite through your lip to keep from screaming, your fingers already clawing down his broad shoulders.

“No one has tasted this perfect skin,” he murmurs, mouthing down your body. It makes you want to collapse against the counter, but you need to stay sitting up, you need to see his facial expressions and what he’s doing with his hands. His breath is hot as he lowers himself to his knees before you, hooking his hands beneath your knees, dragging you forward so that your ass is nearly teetering over the edge of the counter. “That no one has tasted this pretty pussy?”

“No,” you breathe, shuddering as his knuckles brush softly across your cunt. Cassian looks like a beast untamed, no semblance of brown in his eyes anymore. They’re all pupil. “Want you to be the only one who does, Cassian.”

Your admission is his undoing. He all but tears your panties from your body and you don’t have time to properly prepare yourself before he splits your seams and drags his tongue up your cunt.

“Cassian,” you say desperately, pressing the back of your hand to keep the noises threatening to escape inside. It feels too good, the hot press of his tongue against your most intimate spot. He’s undeterred by your pleading, your nails digging into his skin. He’s finally had a taste and he’s never letting you go.

He brings you to the edge much faster than you thought was possible. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t getting wetter by the second with his tongue fucking into you, then one finger and two, three before he’s sucking on your clit and flickering his tongue against it in a motion that sets your body on fire.

You’re a shaking mess when you come down from your high, blissed out with the cold cut of stone beneath your bare body. You shut your eyes as you try to catch your breath, only to rip them open when Cassian stands, his hands undoing the ties of his sleep pants. “You know we’re not done yet, right sweetheart?” He asks, and your jaw drops at the sight of his cock bobbing from its confines. He hadn’t been wearing underwear, and your cunt clenches, dripping when he takes himself in hand, giving himself a rough tug before he’s slotting himself between your thighs and rubbing the head of his cock through your slick. “It’s not over until my cum is painting your insides and you are officially mine.”

“Yes,” you groan, spreading yourself wider for him. You’ll take anything he gives you, everything he gives you. “Please.”

Cassian hushes you softly. He needs another taste of your lips before he takes you for the first time. You’re so perfect for him, all spread out on the counter like this, more than eager to be impaled on his cock. And no one else has experienced this, has touched you in the way that he is right now.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever begin to thank you for this gift.

When you part, he helps guide you back onto the counter, making sure that you aren’t too uncomfortable. Your back is going to be sore tomorrow, but he’ll spend the day hiding away in your room, massaging your tight muscles before he’s easing himself back into you.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the breach of his cock in your channel. His thick fingers hadn’t quite prepared you for this. He’s fucking huge, an apologetic look on his face as he eases his way inside of you as slowly as he can manage.

“Relax, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Good girl,” Cassian groans, “Almost there.”

You both share a heart stopping gasp when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. It awakens something slumbering deeply inside of you, that thing you’ve only heard stories of rousing in your chest. You swear you can see it, the thread of essence that moves from your body to Cassian’s, who’s completely enthralled by the feeling as well, eyes locked onto yours.

It’s the feeling of two souls reuniting after so long apart, here in the kitchen while he’s hip deep in your cunt.

You feel whole.

You feel settled.

You feel complete.

“Cassian?” you ask tentatively, because you’re still in shock.

“Will you be my mate?” He blurts, and it’s when he leans in, pressing himself flush against you that you see the glittering of emotion in his eyes. His hands caress your face again, but it’s tendered this time, like he’s going to explore every part of you all over again.

“Yes,” you breathe, a grin breaking out across your face. What a night this has turned into, from your heart broken and sad to fuller than you ever thought it could be.

Cassian kisses you hard, like the emotion of the bond has him feeling completely new, needing to taste your acceptance off his lips.

It hits you when he gives a gentle grind of his hips that this bond isn’t complete until you offer your mate food.

Cassian releases you at the gentle push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, biting back a noise when you twist, reaching out for your abandoned mug and digging around inside.

“Here,” you offer the lemon to him and his eyes shine in amusement, even if he gives you a playful pout. He doesn’t crack a joke though, because he’d lick the dirt off your fucking feet if that was what you offered him. He takes the lemon into his mouth, rind and all, chewing thrice before swallowing it back, and it’s official.

“My mate,” he purrs and holy Gods, does that sound perfect rolling off his lips.

“My mate,” you agree, brushing a falling strand of his hair behind his ear. It soft, an intimate moment, then, “Can you please start moving now?”

Cassian’s responding chuckle makes your heart swell. “I promise to make this up to you, but I need you to know that I’m not going to last long.” You laugh and he groans at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him, constricting his cock. You’re not going to last long either, your emotions so heightened that everything makes you feel like you’re right on the precipice of orgasm.

“Deal,” you answer, and he begins moving, pulling out before he’s pressing in again, reveling in the way that you cling to him so quickly, are a mess for him so easily.

Cassian hooks his hand under your knee and pulls it up over his shoulder, changing his angle. The noises you’re making are loud, but neither of you care because of the rawness of the mating bond, the heightened emotions, touches, everything. It’s better than they always told you it would be, not just sex itself, but finding your mate.

And you can feel just how much Cassian loves you with his sweet words, the way his grip is as harsh on you as yours is on him like you might slip away from one another if there’s a part of you that isn’t touching.

That fire builds between you, you can feel it through the bond, blurring your mind as you crash life a wave against the reef, letting your orgasm consume you.

Cassian’s mouth finds your as he plunges over the ledge himself, following you obediently into oblivion. He’s lost in the feeling of you as he fucks his cum deep into your womb. He’s going to have to take you to a healer for a tonic when tomorrow comes, if he’s done with you by then. For now, he’s going to bask in this, the feeling of you in his arms and wrapped tightly around his cock.

He's going to bring you upstairs just as soon as he can catch his breath, but with you as his mate, he doesn’t ever think he’ll be able to catch it again.

And he’s more than okay with that.

#acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #cass x reader #cassian x reader #cassian smut #azsazz kinktober 2023 #cassian #cassian acotar

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paperultra · 1 year ago

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aries and the turtle.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,169 words Warnings: None

asterism (noun): a group of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars

The first thought that comes to Sanji’s mind when he sees you curled up on the kitchen floor, rummaging through the box of herbs and spices, is that you’re the single most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Darling,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe and smiling a bit when you startle, “you could’ve woken me up if you wanted a midnight snack.”

“O-Oh! Um.” Your voice colors the gentle calm of night into something warmer – and like always, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking over and squatting down next to you as you scramble to put back a jar of paprika. “I’m sorry, Sanji, I – er, well, um …”

“What are you looking for? I’ll help you.”

Under the yellow glow of the lantern, you seem to shrink. You duck your head and mumble into the collar of your pretty nightshirt. “That chamomile and lavender tea you made a couple nights ago …” you begin hesitantly. “I wanted to make some.” Your voice quiets further. “I can’t sleep.”

Sanji frowns, angling his head to catch a glimpse of your face. You do look a little more haggard than normal, your eyelids heavy, your shoulders burdened. His heart aches. How long had you laid in your hammock, tossing and turning, until you couldn’t stand it anymore?

“I see,” he murmurs. “Let’s make that tea right away, then, shall we?”

Sanji quickly finds the flowers and some lemon rinds he had sun-dried last week. You insist on helping at least a little bit despite his protests for you to just relax, fetching two teacups and setting some water on the stove to boil as he measures the right amount of each ingredient to put into the infuser.

Once the water is ready, steam billowing up past your heads and to the ceiling, he pours it into the teapot and covers it to steep.

(You don’t say anything while the two of you wait, and although Sanji yearns to coax a smile and a sweet conversation from you, he contents himself with the silence as well, which is just as sweet. You sneak glances at him every once in a while, though. He knows because he does the same, and the attention sends a thrill through his chest.)

Time passes. He pours the tea – first for you, then for him.

“Tell me when.” The silence breaks once more as Sanji spoons some honey into your cup.

“That’s good.”

He stirs the tea up, hands it to you. You blow across the top of it and then take a sip as he watches attentively.

“How does the madam like it?” he asks.

You exhale and meet his eyes for a split second before quickly looking away. A small smile touches your lips. “It’s perfect,” you reply from behind the cup. “Thank you, Sanji.”

Warmth stains his cheeks a gentle pink.

“The sky is clear tonight,” he ventures hopefully as he adds two teaspoons of honey for himself. He picks up his cup and gestures at the open door. “Stars and tea pair well together, if you have an appetite for it.”

You bite your bottom lip. His gaze immediately darts down to it, and he swallows, throat suddenly dry.

“Sure,” you whisper.

And so Sanji gains another precious sliver of time with you. Elbows resting on the railing, hot tea and your presence protecting him from the cold, he stands out on the deck of the Going Merry and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.

He knows how much you love the stars. They are one of the few topics you can talk about without your usual shyness, and he thinks of you every time he sees them, pinpricks of pure light shining through the darkness, guiding weary sailors home. Sometimes he thinks you must have been one yourself, carried down from the heavens. Ethereal. Out of reach.

“This time of year,” you say, and Sanji turns his attention over to the stars reflected in your eyes, “you can see my constellation.”

“Yours?” he questions.

“Yes. Those three stars over there.” Your arm stretches out to point at something on the left, your finger tracing an arc in the sky. “In my home village, parents dedicate their newborns to a constellation three days after birth. Mine dedicated me to the turtle.”

A turtle. That fits you incredibly well, he thinks to himself fondly, considering your quiet tenacity. “How come?”

“Turtles represent good luck and a long life.”

“I see. Well, do you think you’ve had good luck so far in life?”

You hum thoughtfully, looking down into your tea.

“I think so,” you say after some time, hushed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A chuckle escapes him. “I would argue that you’re the one who’s brought good luck to us, sweetheart.”

You bite back a smile and whisper a small ‘oh’ as he gently bumps your shoulder with his own. Even now, you’re unused to compliments, but no matter; he’ll praise you at every turn until you finally realize you deserve every word of it.

There’s a brief period of silence before he asks, “What do you think my constellation would be?”

“Your constellation?” It doesn’t take long at all before you reply, pointing upward into a spread of stars that he could never even begin to puzzle out, “The ram. Some call it Aries.”

“What does it mean?”

This question seems to fluster you. You cough and stammer for a few seconds. He sips his tea, the beverage sweet and floral on his tongue as he waits.

“Rams … are artists at heart,” you finally say, glancing over at him. Your eyes, normally wary and somber, glitter. “They’re strong and passionate, but also gentle and kind.”

Oh.

Sanji can feel a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God. Surely, you’ll be the death of him, saying something like that so honestly and with eyes that look like that. He’d move heaven and earth for you if you asked.

“I’ll dedicate my life to living up to those qualities,” he breathes once he can speak again. “Just as much as you’ll live up to yours.”

You take a sharp breath.

“You already do,” he hears you whisper.

And Sanji truly, truly cannot resist anymore.

Your name leaves his lips. He reaches out, hand departing from the dying heat of the teacup and seeking out yours.

You do not pull away when his fingertips brush your cool skin over the railing; instead, you let him turn your hand over until palm touches palm, until the spaces between his fingers are filled with your own and his heart beats to the rhythm of yours.

Sanji squeezes your hand, and every cell in his body begs to falter and fall at your feet.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

The tea cools. But the stars remain as brilliant as ever, and your hand stays warm in his, and everything – everything is beautiful.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #opla sanji #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #trying to write from sanji's pov is like. how can i show that this man is absolutely on his knees all the time for reader #just look at him. just.look.asdhgjkl #also i just think !! looking at the stars would be a great date idea w any of the straw hats while at sea #:<

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