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olive-main · 28 days ago

Note

Hi, hope you’re well! Saw your request for angst ideas. If you’re interested: Reader has been part of the Inner Circle for years, like an og member. Post war she watches Az fall in love with Elaine or Gwyn. She’s known they’re mates, but he’s always told her he loves her as a friend, and nobody else knows they’re mates. She watches as his relationship grows, maybe they’re having a kid or whatever, this can be all the angst you see fit. She’s finally had enough and decides to leave (either for work as an emissary or for herself). Maybe as she starts to rebuild, Az and the IC realize how much her loss impacts them. But when they go see her, she’s thriving. Ending can be whatever floats your boat, maybe she’s with Eris or thriving in Day as Lucien’s advisor, or something else all together.

To Love and Let Go

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: An unrequited love, and a one sided mating bond. What will reader do when she can no longer watch Azriel fall for another female who isn’t her?

Wc: 2.9k (gah dayum)

A/N: ok, this is the longggest fic I've written to date, but I don't hate it...and I may be persuaded to write a part two with multiple endings bcs I'm indecisive asf. Requests are still open and highly encouraged since I'm on break and have a bunch of free time, clearly.

The stars are mocking tonight, their gleam far too bright for the storm brewing inside you. Velaris has always been beautiful, but tonight the city feels suffocating. The laughter of your family echoes around the River House’s dining room, filling the space with warmth and joy.

You sit at the edge of the long table, wine in hand, your smile carefully in place. Cassian is in the middle of one of his stories, something about Azriel and a drunken spar decades ago. The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but glance at him.

Azriel sits across from you, his shoulders relaxed, his shadows soft and relaxed as they curl lazily around him. He’s laughing—quiet and rare, but enough to tug at your chest in a way you’ve never been able to stop.

Beside him, Gwyn is radiant. She laughs, bright and genuine, her hand resting on his arm as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand shifts, fingers brushing over hers in a way that’s intimate, tender. Simple. Devastating.

You lift your wine to your lips and down the rest of the glass in one burning gulp.

You’ve known for years that Azriel isn’t yours to have. When the Cauldron whispered of your bond, it hadn’t been the joyous revelation you’d dreamed of. Instead, it had been a curse.

You feel it even now—that golden thread tying your soul to his, pulling taut every time you see him. But Azriel never acknowledged it, not once. How could he when he didn't even know it existed?

“You’re my best friend,” he’d told you long ago, sitting beside you on a rooftop in Velaris, the two of you cloaked in silence and shadows. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And you’d smiled. Smiled and tucked the truth deeper inside yourself, burying it so far down you almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real. Almost.

The conversation shifts around you, but the words blur together, distant and unimportant. You force yourself to stay, to laugh when you’re supposed to, to nod in all the right places.

Across the table, Gwyn leans closer to Azriel, whispering something in his ear. He smiles at her, that soft, secret smile you’ve seen so many times over the years. But it’s never been for you.

The ache in your chest spreads, sharp and relentless, until you can’t bear it any longer. You push your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.

“Everything okay?” Mor asks, her brows furrowing as she studies you.

You nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just need some air.”

No one questions you, and you’re grateful for it. You slip out of the room and onto the balcony, the cool night air rushing to meet you. The stars stretch endlessly above, and for a moment, you close your eyes and pretend this life isn’t yours.

But the bond hums faintly in the back of your mind, tethering you to someone who will never feel the same way.

—

You grip the balcony railing, the cool metal grounding you as you draw in a shaky breath. The quiet should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t. Not with the sound of their laughter spilling through the open door behind you, not with the bond thrumming painfully in the back of your mind.

You’ve endured this for years. Watching Azriel laugh, fight, live, all while pretending your heart doesn’t shatter every time he smiles at someone who isn’t you. Gwyn. Elain before her, and Mor long before that. All the women who could never feel what you feel for him—but were lucky enough to have his attention anyway.

And then there’s you, his best friend. The one he trusts, confides in, leans on. Just never in the way you ache for. Even before the bond snapped, you’d been in love with the Shadowsinger. He was always the calm amongst the chaos of your family, the one you could seek refuge in.

The sound of footsteps interrupts your thoughts. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. His shadows reach you first, curling gently around your wrist, hesitant and curious. They always do that, as if they sense the things he doesn’t.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice is soft, warm in a way that makes it harder to breathe.

You release the railing and turn to face him, your mask firmly in place. “I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

His brows pull together, his hazel eyes studying you in that unrelenting way of his. “You’ve seemed… distracted tonight.”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not distracted. Just tired, that’s all.” The lie was easy on your tongue, a lie you’ve repeated more times than you can count.

His shadows shift, curling tighter around you. “You can tell me if something’s wrong,” he says, his voice low, careful.

You want to laugh again. Wrong? Everything is wrong. Your mate is standing in front of you, looking at you with concern while his love sits inside, waiting for him. He doesn’t even feel the bond that’s been tearing you apart for years. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

“I’m fine, Az,” you say again, stepping back, putting distance between you. “Go back inside. Gwyn’s probably wondering where you are.”

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it. He hesitates, his shadows brushing against your hand one last time before retreating.

“All right,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t look convinced.

You watch him go, his wings casting long shadows across the balcony as he disappears into the house. The bond hums faintly, pulling at your heart even as you stand there alone.

—

A part of you wants to blame yourself for never telling him about the mating bond. It was known Azriel always longed for a mate, so much so he had made the bold claim of Elain being his mate once upon a time. Now, he's with Gwyn under that same notion. Unfortunately, your heart had wanted him to love you without the influence of the bond.

Your thoughts persist as you force your eyes shut, trying and failing to fall asleep.

Instead, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all presses down on you. You’ve built your entire life around the Inner Circle, around him. And for what? To watch him build a life with someone else? To keep breaking your own heart over and over again?

No.

When dawn comes, the decision is already made.

—

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asks, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

You stand in the foyer of the River House, your bags already packed and waiting by the door. The soft morning light filters through the windows, casting golden hues over everything. It should feel warm. Comforting. But all you feel is the ache of goodbye.

“I’m sure,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver.

Rhysand stands a few paces away, arms crossed, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. You were like a sister to him, someone he’d protected and seen through every phase of life. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently. “We can figure something out. If you need time off, time for yourself—”

“I need more than time, Rhys,” you interrupt, forcing a small smile to soften the blow. “I need space. A fresh start. This is the right move for me.”

You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times, carefully framing your departure as a professional opportunity. An emissary position in Day Court. Helion had been eager to accept your offer, praising your skills and promising a new challenge that you could sink your teeth into.

It wasn’t a lie. You would thrive in Day Court. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Feyre’s grip on your arm tightens, her lips pressing together as if she’s holding back an argument. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re running away,” she says softly.

You glance past her, your eyes catching on the open archway leading to the dining room. You can feel him in there, his shadows faint even from this distance. The bond pulls, a sharp tug against your ribs.

“I’m not running away,” you tell her, even though part of you wonders if that’s exactly what this is. “I’m choosing myself for once.”

Rhys nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “If that’s what you need, then we support you. Always.”

A lump rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, turning to hug Feyre. “Thank you. For everything.”

—

Azriel watches from the shadows of the dining room as you leave. He doesn’t mean to linger there, doesn’t mean to eavesdrop—but he can’t help it.

He hears Feyre’s quiet goodbye, Rhys’s reassurances. He sees the way your shoulders straighten as you step out the door, as if you’re carrying a weight none of them can understand.

Something twists in his chest, sharp and unfamiliar.

He doesn’t understand it. You’ve left Velaris before, gone on missions and trips for weeks at a time. But this feels… different. Permanent.

For a moment, he almost steps forward, almost calls out to you. But then the door closes, and you’re gone.

—

The Day Court is a world apart from Velaris.

Here, the sun always seems to shine, casting a golden glow over Helion’s sprawling palace. It’s vibrant, full of life, and for the first time in years, you feel as though you can finally breathe.

Helion welcomes you with open arms, praising your work and throwing you headfirst into new projects. The days are busy, your nights peaceful, and slowly—very slowly—the ache in your chest begins to fade.

You make new allies and friends. Lucien, especially, becomes an unexpected source of comfort. He understands unspoken bonds, the pain of being tied to someone who doesn’t want you. For the first few weeks, most, if not all your time was spent by his side.

“You’re free now,” he tells you one evening, the two of you sitting on a balcony overlooking the Day Court gardens. His amber eyes glint in the fading sunlight. “It doesn’t feel like it yet, but it will. One day.”

You smile, a real smile, and let the words settle in your chest.

—

Back in Velaris, the Inner Circle feels the void you’ve left behind. Cassian complains loudly during training sessions about how things don’t run as smoothly without you. Mor keeps suggesting trips to Day Court, half-joking but half-serious. Even Feyre finds herself reaching for you during meetings, only to realize you’re no longer there.

And Azriel…

Azriel notices most of all.

He misses the quiet way you steadied him, the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The balance you brought to the group. To him.

At first, he tells himself it’s just an adjustment. You’ll be back eventually. But as the weeks stretch into months, he begins to realize just how deeply your absence has cut into his life.

The shadow of the bond hums faintly in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t understand why.

Not yet.

—

It’s Feyre who suggests the trip.

“You’ve been working too hard,” she tells Azriel, shooting him with a look that leaves no room for argument. “We all have. A visit to Day Court will do us some good. Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve seen her.”

Azriel hesitates but eventually agrees. He tells himself it’s curiosity, that he just wants to see how you’re settling in. Since you’ve left his relationship with everyone, Gywn especially, has grown distant. He tries to find you in her, comparing the small things that shouldn’t matter—and every time it only makes his heart sink.

When they arrive, they find you in the Day Court gardens, laughing at something Lucien has said. The sunlight catches in your hair, your face glowing with a happiness Azriel hasn’t seen in years.

The gardens are breathtaking, a vibrant sprawl of golden blooms and gleaming fountains that seem to echo the brilliance of the sun overhead. But Azriel doesn’t see any of it.

His focus is entirely on you.

You look radiant, the golden hues of Day Court seeming to highlight the confidence you’ve gained in your time away.

Lucien leans closer, his expression soft yet intent, and the sight makes something dark and ugly twist in Azriel’s chest. It’s not the first time he’s seen Lucien or been jealous of the male, but this—this—feels different. He used to feel that pang of jealousy when he blindly pined for Elain, now with you it returned with a greater force.

He doesn’t understand why these feelings have suddenly spread through him. You’ve always been his friend. His anchor. But as Lucien reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, Azriel feels like he’s watching something slip through his fingers.

“Az?” Feyre’s voice pulls him back. She’s watching him with careful eyes, her brow furrowing.

He shakes his head and straightens his posture, forcing his expression back into neutral territory. “I’m fine.” But he isn’t.

Before Feyre can press him further, Lucien notices their approach and gives a low whistle. “Well, well. Velaris sends its finest.” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes as they flick toward you.

You turn, and when your gaze lands on Azriel, your smile falters. It’s a subtle shift, but he sees it. Feels it.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Azriel,” you greet, inclining your head slightly, your voice polite but distant. As if they were strangers and not the family you chose all those centuries ago.

He hates it.

The reunion is cordial at first, filled with pleasantries and talk of work. Lucien stands close to you, his presence steady, his hand occasionally brushing yours in a way that grounds you. Azriel’s shadows stir restlessly, but he forces them into submission.

“You’ve done well here,” Feyre says warmly, her gaze sweeping over the garden. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Your smile is genuine, though it doesn’t quite reach Azriel. “Helion has been… generous with his trust.”

“And with his emissary’s time,” Lucien adds, grinning at you. “She’s a natural. Can’t imagine how Day Court managed before she arrived.”

The praise makes you duck your head slightly, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks. Azriel’s jaw tightens.

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” he says, his voice lower than usual.

Your eyes flick to him briefly before turning back to Lucien, but there’s something guarded in your expression. “I have. It’s been… fulfilling.”

The word stings more than it should.

—

Eventually, Feyre and Rhys drift away with Lucien, leaving you and Azriel alone amidst the golden flowers. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“You’ve been… different,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You glance at him, your arms folding across your chest. “Different how?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Happier,” he admits.

The softness in his voice almost makes you falter, but you stand your ground. “I am,” you say simply.

His shadows curl around his feet, agitated. “You left so suddenly,” he says, his tone sharper now. “One day you were there, and the next you were… gone. No warning. No explanation.”

You raise an eyebrow, bitterness creeping into your voice. “I told you I needed space. I told all of you.” You pause for a second, staring at a cluster of white lilies. “Why does it matter now, Azriel?”

“Because I miss you,” he says, the words raw and unguarded. “We all do. But me… I—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.

You laugh softly, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “You miss me now? After I’ve finally started to find peace? After you’ve built a life with Gwyn?”

His shadows surge forward, brushing against your arm, but you shake them off. “Don’t do this, Azriel.”

“You’re my friend,” he says, and the words make your heart twist painfully.

You whirl to face him, your eyes blazing. “No. I was never just your friend, Azriel. I was your mate.”

The truth spills out before you can stop it, sharp and cutting. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

“What?” His voice is barely a whisper.

You laugh again, a broken sound. “The Cauldron tied us together centuries ago, but you never felt it, did you? You never even noticed.”

His shadows pull back, retreating like they’ve been burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter!” you snap, your voice rising. “You didn’t want me that way, Azriel. You never did. And I wasn’t about to force something on you that you didn’t feel.”

He stares at you, his usually stoic face cracking with something raw and uncertain. “I—”

But you shake your head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“You’ve moved on?” he echoes, his gaze flicking toward the direction Lucien went. His voice lowers, dangerous. “With him?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though the word feels heavy. “Because he sees me, Azriel. He knows what it’s like to be unwanted. To feel second-best.”

The words are a dagger between you, and you can see the way they strike him, the way his shadows twist and writhe.

“Is that what you think?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “That you were second-best?”

Your throat tightens, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The bond hums faintly in your chest, but it’s different now—fading, unraveling as you finally let go of the male who could never love you the way you deserved.

“I’m happy here,” you say softly, your voice steady. “And you… you have Gwyn. You have your life in Velaris. Let that be enough.”

Azriel doesn’t argue. He just stands there, his shadows a chaotic storm around him, as you turn and walk away.

This time, you don’t look back.

Aaannd scene XOXO ~

#oneshots #scenarios #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel fanfic #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #azriel x you #request #reqs open #angstmas #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster

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m-oddinsdottir · 4 months ago

Text

SMALL SPACE, BIG WINGS

the lord of Bloodshed and the étoile .ˊˎ ⚔️

Cassian x Fem! Reader

Words: 2,974

Warnings: smut, fingering, dirty talking, use of pet names, Cassian is a consent king, tension, reader ‘despising’ Cassian, Cassian being secretly smitten over her, unprotected p in v, size kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, slightly nipple play, no use of y/n. let me know if I missed anything!

Summary: After being sent on a small and easy job, you end up locked up with Cassian while trying to hide. You two barely fit inside together and the tension is definitely not making things any easier.

A/N: so this is the first time I write smut, definitely had to made my research in how to translate some things from my first language. friendly reminder that english isn’t my first language so please feel free to correct me if<3

Masterlist

•••

You were going to murder Rhysand. Surely, that was the next thing on your to-do list.

You were no spy, and neither was Cassian. Stealthy was not one of the words by which you would describe the Illyrian warrior, to the contrary he was a brute, certainly not a diplomat or forbearing in said matters.

So when Rhysand sent you both on a small and easy job (as the High Lord had called it), you immediately knew things would fail miserably.

After centuries together, everyone would have thought you adored Cassian as much as you adored everyone else in the Inner Circle. They couldn't be more wrong. You hated being teased, he was always teasing you. You loved your moments of solitude and peace, he would always scream around and ruin them. You were free as the stars, he was always trying to tie you down to the House of Wind with them.

You despised him.

However, you couldn't get rid of his obnoxious presence. Even during those terrible fifty years of Amarantha's reign where you had found your own silent and sacred temple in Velaris, he would always knock on your door at least once a month. He was insatiable.

Now, you both were trapped together under a hatch door. His broad hand over your waist to balance you while you were almost laying completely down over his body. His large wings half-wrapped around your figure, occupying most of the limited space in the tiny area you two had decided to hide in.

The amused smirk on his lips didn't help after you noticed the trapdoor only opened from the outside. If you had the space, you would have punched it out of his face just in the way he had trained you after decades of dwelling on how you couldn't always retort on your magic.

"You and me together, doll." He had said, and in response, you had just huffed before trying to kick the door open... Somehow. There must be a way to get out of there, right? You have attempted to contact Rhysand countless times to be able to keep track of it. Yet, you received no response in return.

And now, after almost twenty minutes ignoring Cassian's smart mouth and trying to find the manner to open the door. Your body was already cramping, and the resignment was taking its toll on you.

The male underneath you noticed the sigh that escaped your lips. He also realized how your body pressed more against his seeking some rest after supporting yourself over your forearms to avoid touching him for that much time. A small grin drew itself over his lips.

"As I said about half an hour again... You can't open it."

A small stubborn frown appeared over your lips. He wasn't saying 'I said so' right now, was he? Gods, you were so going to punch him.

"Have you at least tried to contact Rhysand to get us out of here?" Your question made his grin disappear as he looked into your eyes.

Cassian hadn't tried to do anything during all that time. He had just laid there, noticing the way your chest heavily moved up and down with each of your pants after trying to push the door open with your body, taking in how you closed your eyes in frustration granting him the possibility for his eyes to roam over your body without you realizing it.

Gods, he had tried to memorize each detail in your skin with this new forced proximity which, at least, was welcomed by him. Cassian had retained the way your brows furrowed together and the soft sounds of exasperation coming out of your throat that made him shiver.

"Of course, I've tried. I want to stay in this position as much as you do, doll."

Lie after lie.

He hadn't tried to contact Rhysand, and the gods knew he was praying to stay like that with you for as long as possible.

You looked deep into his eyes, nose scrunched up slightly before scoffing and then trying to shift to reduce the cramping sensation. "Ain't this the best outcome possible?"

Hearing your annoyed grumbling made Cassian grin with amusement again, his hand squeezing your waist before talking. "You know, you could always..."

"If you seriously propose that I lay down, I'll kill you Cassian." You muttered and the male raised his hands as much as he could feigning innocence.

"I didn't say anything," Cassian replied to you. His hand returned to rest on your waist before you shoved it away. "You were the one who suggested that… Is that how badly you want me to invite you to sit on my lap, doll?"

Unconsciously, your breath hitched before a small growl escaped your lips and you flexed your arms to be able to stand as far away from him as possible. "Have some respect, will you?"

"When has there ever been some respect between us?"

A truth, for a change.

Gods may correct if otherwise. But a compliment has never been shared between you and the warrior. Not a genuine one, at least.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Isn't it ours, doll? I don't think I can count how many times you've slammed your door on my face." "I don't think you can count at all." Your retort made the warrior grin from underneath you. And, this time, Cassian didn't have any decency before he looked— No, not looked, ogled at you.

"Trying to make me cry?"

You held back the need to roll your eyes at him before supporting your weight with one arm and forcing him to look into your eyes. The roughness of his stubble scratched the soft pads of your fingers as you held his chin upwards.

"Eyes up here," you warned him. "I didn't realize you had the emotional capacity to cry. Did I at least bruise your ego, Cassian?"

He chuckled before tilting his head down slightly and brushing his sultry lips against your fingers. "Consider it damaged." The strain of his voice sent a shiver down your spine to your core.

Gods, that roughness in his tone. You doubt you have ever heard that hoarseness in him before, even though you have witnessed some of his flirting attempts with other females.

A few seconds too late, you dropped his chin. Your hand moved to rest underneath his arm so that you could support yourself above him. Your mouth felt dry and the familiar sensation of your slick between your folds almost cracked a curse out of you.

Fuck.

Not in this situation, not with Cassian underneath you, not in such a tiny space where he could scent it.

And did he scent it, his nose scrunched up slightly and your eyes followed the movement of his Addam's apple when he swallowed hard. The warmth got worse. And you weren't even sure how or why it started.

Gods.

"Gods." Cassian muttered, putting your thoughts right into words. You scoffed before shoving him away from you, placing your hands on his chest, and pushing your back against the small wooden trap door.

"Don't you dare say a fucking word. I'm going to try and contact Rhysand again." At your words, Cassian's chest reverberated against your hands when a deep growl escaped his lips

"Don't." His firm voice made you freeze above him.

"Don't?" You repeated and his growl was enough of a response for you. "The hell y—?

Before you could even register it, his lips were over yours. He was a male starved, lips coaxing yours open as he roughly introduced his tongue inside your mouth. His long and warm tongue licking the roof of your mouth before he intertwined his tongue with yours in a dance that only belonged to the synchrony in which the General usually fought his battles.

A small whimper escaped your lips and it traveled into his mouth when one of his hands lowered to your ass, taking a handful of the flesh covered by the leather. Almost immediately, your body arched into his, molding your body in the small space. Your skin buzzed with arousal when he broke the kiss and began pressing open-mouthed wet kisses against the bare skin of your neck.

You whined his name, almost gasping as his hand slipped underneath your trousers, you had no idea when the male unbuttoned them as your hand moved upwards to get tangled in his dark long locks.

"So fucking beautiful and so fucking wet," Cassian groaned as one of his fingers lowered feeling your covered and aching cunt, his warm and soft fingers pressing against your entrance. He clenched his jaw when he could feel the wetness spread through the thin layer of fabric. "Can you imagine how many times I have pictured you like this? At my damn mercy."

He pressed harder and you moaned against his ear. A pink tone colored your cheeks, however, it was provoked by your shame, not your arousal. You doubted you have ever been more soaked for any male before him... That, somehow, ashamed you.

Cassian traced slow and cruel circles against your entrance almost fingering you through the small lacey fabric Mor usually forced you to buy.

"Cassian—." You even struggled with your own speech. Your voice was suffocated by the delicious sounds that reached Cassian's hearing making the bulge in his trousers painfully hard. You could feel it poke your thigh through his Illyrian leathers and a strained gasp left your lips.

"Fuck, keep making those sounds." Cassian growled against your ear before he lowered your trousers revealing your backside to him as he hovered over your shoulder to take a glimpse.

A moan escaped his lips, this time. With his free hand, he parted your cheeks open squeezing the flesh underneath one of his hands before he kept teasing your entrance. His thumb moved upwards finding that small bundle of nerves right where he knew it would be. You choked your moan by kissing him once again and he gratefully devoured each one of your moans.

With a swift movement, he notched the skimpy and delicate fabric to the side. And then he was sinking two long and thick fingers inside you. Immediately, breaking the kiss, your lips parted open in a silent moan, jaw going slack.

The stretch stung as he buried his fingers deep until your achy cunt swallowed them entirely reaching his knuckles. A small laugh escaped his lips when you began to grind against his fingers, chasing your own pleasure.

His hand on your backside immediately moved up to shield your head when you almost hit it against the trap door. "Easy there, doll." Cassian mumbled softly, the gentle gesture making you clench around his fingers.

Cassian curled his fingers inside you finding the spongy patch of flesh that forced a cry out of your lips: "There you go, my beautiful," He whispered softly as he worked his fingers in and out. "Tell me what you want."

You almost laughed at his words. It was as if he was searching for your consent despite the way you were desperately grinding against his fingers while you moaned inches away from his mouth. The brute was in fact a gentleman, Cassian was indeed a gentle lover.

"I want you, Cassian," You mumbled against his lips connecting them with yours for a few seconds before nibbling on his lower lip. "Just you."

He growled. "Gods, doll... Come for me." His voice sounded almost like a plead as his thumb found your clit again. It only took a couple of lazy circles of his finger before you were making a mess of them, soaking his entire palm as a cry escaped your lips, your body stiffening before you buried your face in his neck breathing in his scent so that you could anchor yourself to something while being sent over the edge.

Cassian shushed you, still working his fingers inside you, trying to ride you out of your pleasure. "Good girl," He muttered, making your sensible walls clench around his fingers again. "Gods, I've jerked off so many times thinking about this before." His blunt admission caused a blush to color your cheeks as you looked down at him with half-lidded eyes. Cassian withdrew his fingers from you making you feel empty. You whimpered before he brought his glistening and sticky fingers to his lips sucking them dry while you observed.

The Illyrian savored the feeling of your juices on his fingers as if they were a damn meal. So much so that his eyes rolled back to his skull.

"So you've jerked off to me, huh?" You asked teasingly and he growled softly.

"Shut up." His lips were right over yours again forcing you to taste the salty but sweet taste of your orgasm on his tongue. You heard him roughly fiddling with the ties and buttons of his trousers and a small giggle escaped your lips before you moved down pressing gentle kisses against his jaw and neck.

Your skin sunk on the tanned skin there, leaving gentle marks that you soon soothed with a flicker of your tongue that only caused goosebumps to blossom around his skin.

Cassian growled against your ear when his large and hard manhood was revealed from its restraints. He gripped himself around the base and you looked down. The view made your breath hitch. Gods, was he big. You even doubted it would fit inside as you watched him pump himself a few times.

"Cassian, I don't think I..." You began but he quickly interrupted you. "I'll make it damn fit."

Cassian slid his length against your messy folds, smearing himself in the wetness of your arousal so that he could stretch you open more easily and less painfully. One hand moved up to cup your breasts while the other remained on your hips. He circled your nipples through the fabric of your shirt between his rough calloused fingers, toying with them.

His pupils had become pools in his eyes almost making the golden shrink into a small halo around the darkness of his lured eyes that stared right into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful. The damn picture of perfection." He repeated.

A gentle smile appeared on your lips and you relaxed against his arms. You were relaxed until you felt it. His thick grith slowly pushing inside you. A moan broke your voice as he slowly stretched you open.

"Doing so good for me, baby." Cassian muttered before moving to press a gentle kiss against your forehead, he pulled out before sinking in a few more inches and your needy cunt clenched around him swallowing his cock.

"More," You begged softly, tilting your head to find his lips. "I need you. All of you." He groaned and suddenly, Cassian sunk himself as deeply as he could inside you. His hips flesh against yours as his hands had lowered you completely into his cock.

"Gods—" You moaned and he held still for you to be able to adjust to his girth. One hand remained on your hips while the other moved to cup your cheek so that he could look into your eyes the entire time.

When you nodded telling him that you were alright, Cassian whimpered and he shifted you both in the tiny space before retreating and then thrusting in even deeper than before, the head of his cock caressing your cervix.

Cassian pumps in and out of you, small groans escaping his lips as he gets lost in the feeling of your sensitive walls tightening around him. He could feel your wetness slicking his cock each time he pulled out before he would thrust again. His golden eyes were locked with yours as he took in the way your face contorted with pleasure. Committing the moment to his memory.

He smirks feeling your body shake with each one of his hard thrusts. His hand gently caresses your cheek despite the roughness and eagerness of his movements. "Gods, you were made for me, doll." "I feel like I was made for you." You gasped in response and soon his fingers moved down to caress the swollen bundle of nerves making you cry out with pleasure.

Cassian leaned in closer to press his forehead against yours. "You are," He mumbles noticing the way you arched your back to meet each one of his strokes. "You are... Made for me— Mine."

His growls made you whimper and you felt your body stiffen above him. "Cass.. I'm close to—." He didn't allow you to finish your sentence, thrusting in even deeper and circling your clit desperately before you were coming undone on his cock.

A loud cry escaped your lips before he kissed you gently while your walls tightened around him, your legs trembling due to the electric current coursing through your body and struggling to support yourself over him. The sensation makes him groan and when you screamed his name, he's already tightening his grip over your hips.

He spills rope after rope of his thick and warm spend, flooding your insides as he closes his eyes. Cassian's forehead was still pressed against yours as he panted heavily against your face. He remained buried deep inside you pulling in and out slightly so that your tight walls would milk him completely before he pulled out.

And then you both opened your eyes. Glossy gazes locking with each other and tired smiles over your lips before it happened.

Your breath hitched as his speed dripped out of you and the golden bridge between both your souls constructed itself brick by brick. It left your already hazy mind feeling even more bewildered. You caught sight of Cassian's excited and tender smile before fully realizing it.

He was your mate.

Oh, damn it.

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