#this is something Cass enjoys let's not be demanding | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

serpentandlily · 1 year ago

Text

Untouchable II - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

a/n: Thank you all so much for all the love on the first part of this story! If you want to be added to the tag list, either comment or message or send me an ask :)

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part II

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The minute you guys winnowed into the foyer of the River House, you were nearly tackled to the ground by your own brother. He spun you in a circle, greeting you as if you’d just come back from a war or something. You couldn’t help but giggle at his huge overreaction.

“You act like I’ve been gone for years,” you laughed.

“It felt like it,” he replied, giving you what you assumed was his best impression of a sad puppy dog—an odd sight to see on such a powerful High Lord.

He had barely set you down when you were scooped up into someone else’s arms. Luckily Cassian wasn’t as dramatic as your brother. He pulled away to hold you at arm's length, taking a sweeping glance down your body.

“You’ve lost some muscle mass and what is this you’re wearing,” he chided in a teasing, affectionate tone. “Are you even still part of the night court, y/n?”

A scoff sounded from behind the General and you peeked over his shoulder to see Azriel standing there, his arms crossed. “She’s only been gone for three months.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him and you quickly pulled your eyes away, ignoring the strain in your chest. You jokingly shoved Cassian away from you. “I’m gone for three months and the first thing you say to me is that I’ve lost muscle? Can take the boy out of Illyria but not Illyria out of the boy.”

“Damn right,” Cassian said proudly as you stepped around him, finding the rest of your family lounging about in the sitting room. “Besides, do my letters to you not count as talking?”

You rolled your eyes before giving Azriel a smile. He dipped his head in greeting, his eyes trailing over your form, but made no move to embrace you like the other two.

“You wrote letters to Cass and Rhys,” he said. “But not to me? I thought I was your favorite.”

“Rhys demanded I write to him. And Cass wrote to me first.” You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

A muscle ticked in his jaw when he met your eyes again but he said nothing else so you brushed past him, squeezing him on the shoulder as you did, determined to not let his presence squander the confidence you had built up these past months.

As soon as you stepped into the sitting room, a baby was pushed into your arms. You smiled at Feyre, pressing a kiss to her cheek in greeting and happily accepting to hold Nyx, your nephew. “It’s good to see you, y/n. Being on the continent has done you wonders. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, I’ve been immensely enjoying my time there. But I missed you too, Fey,” you replied with a wink before hoisting the baby further up in your arms to snuggle against his head. “And Gods, I missed you, little one.”

“He missed you too, you know.” You looked up at Rhys who was leaning against the back of the chair Feyre had plopped down in. “You’re the only one who knows how to make him laugh when he’s in one of his moods.”

You saw his words for what they truly were - ammunition. A way to guilt you to stay. The sad part was it kind of worked. If there was anyone you’d drop everything for, it was your nephew. “I think you guys did just fine without me.”

“Some of us did,” Amren piped up. “Others wouldn’t shut up about you. ‘What do you think y/n is doing right now?’ ‘When do you think she is going to come home?’ ‘Send me to the continent to check on y/n.’” She mocked, glaring at your brother. But then her glare shifted to the shadowsinger who gave her an unamused look. Your cheeks turned pink. Had she been including Azriel in that…

“I’m glad you’re finally spreading those wings, girl. It’s about time,” Amren continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Anyways,” Mor cut in. “Are you going to tell us what is so important that you dragged me and your sister back for?”

“I will, during our family dinner,” Rhys said. “We’re still waiting for Lucien.”

You couldn’t help but glance at Elain, who looked just about as uncomfortable as you did. It wasn’t that you specifically had anything against the fox. But he had been the close companion of the male who was the reason your mother was dead, the reason you had almost lost your wings and your life that fateful night. It made it hard to be around him without thinking of Tamlin, which brought back those painful memories.

Conversation turned normal after that and you tried to keep your eyes away from the shadowsinger. Instead you listened to Cassian and Nesta talk about the improvements the Valkyries had made in the three months you were gone. You promised Cass that you’d go to training with them tomorrow morning.

Lucien finally showed up and the small party was moved to the dining room. You took a seat next to Cassian and your heart nearly froze as you watched the redhead enter and make his way towards the empty chair next to you. You clenched your skirt in your fist but before he could take it, Azriel cut in front of him and claimed the chair as his.

You gave him a small, grateful smile. He nodded and you turned away as Elain sat down next to him. Great. Perfect. Now you’d have to listen to them all night. Perhaps the fox would’ve been a better choice.

Dinner was served and you poked at your food. Your proximity to the shadowsinger made your appetite minimal. You leaned your head against Cass’s shoulder, taking comfort in him. Cassian had always felt like a second big brother to you. And he treated you as such.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured to you, stacking more food on your plate. “You’ve got to eat if you’re going to come train with us tomorrow.”

Nesta rolled her eyes from next to him and you covered your grin. You were about to reply when Rhys stood. The room quieted when he cleared his throat. “Feyre and I have invited you here tonight for a reason. Would you like to do the honors, darling?” He tilted his head to her and she stood, smiling.

You couldn’t help but melt at the sight of your brother and his mate. You were so happy he finally had the life he deserved. Feyre placed her tattooed hand on her stomach and your eyes widened, a gasp escaping your mouth as you realized what this announcement was.

“I’m pregnant again,” she said, pure happiness in her voice. “With a little baby girl.”

Cheers and shouts erupted around the room but you were the first to jump up and hug Feyre. You couldn’t stop smiling as you let her go to be embraced by the others, taking your brother in your arms instead.

“Congratulations,” you whispered in his ear. “I’m so happy for you, Rhysie.”

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered back. “Another baby. In less than two years.”

You felt claws scrape against your mental shield.

We’re going to name her after mother. We’ve already discussed it.

You pulled back with shock, looking up into his eyes to make sure he was telling the truth. Tears lined his eyes as he nodded at you. A small cry broke from your lip as you hugged him again. When you finally composed yourself, you let him go so the others could have their turn with him. You stood off to the side, wiping your tears.

You were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the male who fell into place next to you. “Are you alright?”

You looked up at Azriel who was watching you with concern in those beautiful hazel eyes. You nodded, clearing your throat. “They’re going to name her after our mother. After Selene.”

Azriel’s eyes widened and then he glanced at your brother, a small smile on his lips. You know how much Azriel and Cassian had loved your mother too. Had felt the loss of her all the same. You sucked in a breath and wiped away any lingering tears.

Azriel looked back down at you, his eyes searching your face. Part of you wanted to use your daemati gifts, to take a peek inside his head, to see what he was thinking. But you would never cross that line.

“You’ve got make-up,” he said, gesturing towards your face. “Here.”

You went to wipe it but he grabbed your hand. “Let me.”

He conjured a cloth napkin in his hand and gripped your chin with his other gloved hand, tilting your face up at him. Your eyes widened at his touch and you froze in place, your breath caught in your throat. He dapped at a spot on your check, just below your eye.

You hated the effect he had on you. How his scent wrapped around you, his mere presence clouding your mind. Hated how you wished to step closer to him. This wasn’t the first time he had done something as intimate as this with you but those moments were far and few between.

He was surprisingly gentle as he wiped at your face, his hand never leaving your chin even as his other fell back to his side. He stared down at you with an indiscernible emotion and your eyes bounced between his. Part of you wished this small moment would never end. But wishing and praying had never done you any good and the moment was over before you knew it.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Elain had made her way over to you and Azriel dropped his grip on you like your skin had burned him. You swallowed harshly, looking at the girl who had captured his heart in the short time she had been here.

“I’m okay, Elain,” you replied with a little dip of your head. “Just a bit emotional is all.”

She smiled at you and you wished more than anything that you could hate her. But you couldn’t. She had only ever been sweet to you. Only ever wanted to be your friend. “I can’t believe we’re about to have another baby around here. You’ll have to help me set up the nursery for Feyre again, y/n!”

“Of course!”

Elain’s hand rested on Azriel’s bicep and the sight made the dinner you had just eaten churn in your stomach. You needed to get away from them. It hadn’t been long enough. You hadn’t been away long enough to get rid of these stupid feelings. You glanced back at Azriel to find him still looking at you. You mustered up the will to give them a parting smile before dipping away.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Feyre and Rhysand had called it a night after some time celebrating but Mor had declared the night wasn’t over. At least not for you two. You hadn’t hesitated to agree to go to Rita’s—ready to let loose after having to deal with the heartache of being near Azriel and Elain.

Cassian and Nesta decided to come as well. And then to everyone’s surprise, Azriel had also said he’d come which made Elain shyly say she’d come as well. Just when you’d thought you’d have a moment of relief, the Mother had decided to spite you again. Perhaps she was just trying to drill home the point that Azriel would never be yours.

Mor passed you another shot glass and you chugged it before even asking what was in it. All you knew was you wanted to be drunk—and fast. You were squeezed between Nesta and Mor in the large booth your group occupied.

Your eyes flicked to the other side of the table. Azriel and Elain sat there, both sipping on their drinks. Neither of them looked comfortable and you wondered why they even bothered to come.

“I wanna dance,” you slurred, pouting at Mor. You shoved at your cousin to let you out of the booth and she chuckled, moving out of the way.

“Take Mor with you, sweetheart.”

Nesta elbowed Cassian in his side. “She’s not a little girl, Cass.”

“She’s fine on her own,” Mor bit, backing up Nesta. “Besides, we can still see her from here.”

You missed the disapproving glare Azriel threw at Mor who rolled her eyes at him. The alcohol had finally taken effect, making you feel carefree. You let the music take over as you pushed your way into the dancing crowd.

For once you basked in the attention you were receiving and when you felt large hands wrap around your waist from behind, you didn’t falter like you might’ve before. You glanced up to see a high fae male smirking down at you. He was handsome with brown eyes and shaggy blonde hair.

You gave him your family’s signature feline grin and decided to just go with it—anything to get the shadowsinger out of your mind.

“Don’t,” Mor growled at Azriel as he went to stand up, his eyes locked on you and the male. Cassian watched with an annoyed frown. “Let her have fun. She knows how to handle herself.”

You were oblivious to the two disgruntled bats at the table though. A few more songs passed before the male grabbed your hand and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Come. Let me buy you a drink.”

You smiled and let him drag you to the bar. His hand slid to your lower back as you watched him place an order for both of you. He turned to hand you the drink the bartender made and his eyes widened as he looked at something over your shoulder.

Your brows furrowed until that familiar scent hit you.

“Leave us,” Azriel growled at him from behind you.

The male glanced between the two of you. “Sorry, I didn’t know she was here with someone.”

“I’m not here with him.” You crossed your arms, annoyed. The male’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement, looking back at Azriel.

“Well, it seems like the lady doesn’t want you here, pal,” he said. “So why don’t you leave us?”

A sliver of fear crossed his eyes as Azriel took a step forward, his hard chest pressing into your back. “Get lost,” he snarled, his voice pure ice. “Now.”

Your mouth dropped open as the male scurried off this time, evidently not wanting a confrontation with the shadowsinger. You whirled around to see Azriel glaring down at you. You pushed him away with a hand to his chest.

“What is your problem?!”

“My problem?” he snapped back at you. “That male was clearly going to take advantage of you. You should be thanking me for scaring him off.”

“Why the hell should I thank you! He wasn’t taking advantage of me. I wanted to be with that guy.”

“And he probably just wanted to use you to get close to Rhys for power or money—who knows.”

You felt a dagger pierce your heart at his words, at his unflinching cold stare. “Right. Because no one would ever want me for anything else. No one might ever just be interested in me and not my connection to Rhys.”

“Oh don’t be naive, y/n,” Azriel said, coldly. Your mouth dropped open, tears started building in your eyes at his cruelty. But then anger finally started to rise, overpowering the hurt.

“Just because you don’t desire me like that, doesn’t mean other males don’t as well! I am not a child anymore, Azriel. I know exactly what males want from me and I also know what I want from them. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

You chugged the drink in your hand before slamming the glass on the counter.

“Y/n, that’s not what I—”

You turned away, not wanting to hear anything else he said. You couldn’t bear anymore hurt. All you wanted to do was go somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn't so you could unleash the tears stinging your eyes.

His cold hand grabbed your wrist and whirled you back around. “This conversation isn’t over,” he bit out but you shrugged yourself out of his grip.

“Yes it is,” you ground out through your teeth. “In fact, instead of sticking your nose in my business, why don’t you worry about your girlfriend’s.”

“My what—”

Azriel turned his head to follow your line of sight back to the booth you had all been sitting at before. Elain sat there alone, Mor likely dancing and Nesta and Cassian probably off making out somewhere. Some guy was leaning against the table talking to Elain, who looked incredibly uncomfortable.

You didn’t wait to hear Azriel’s response, using the distraction to storm off and disappear in the crowd—your first night had officially been ruined.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The last place you wanted to be today was the House of Wind, but you had promised Cassian and Nesta you’d show up for Valkyrie training and you knew one of them would come looking for you if you hadn’t. You could feel Azriel’s eyes on you from across the training ring but ignored him, keeping your focus on Cass.

“Alright,” Cass said, clapping his hands together. He had just led you guys through a series of exercises and you could already feel some sweat dripping down your back. “Let’s move on to sparring. Pair up and get started. Y/n, you’re with me today! Got to get you back up to speed.”

You made your way to Cassian but were intercepted by Azriel stepping in between you two. “I’ll take over her training. The new girls need more help.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him but shrugged and walked off, leaving you alone with the shadowsinger. You clenched your fists, not at all happy with having to work with Azriel today when you wanted to avoid him. You were still upset with the way he talked to you last night.

“Come,” he barked, not even looking at you. “We’ll take the back corner.”

He strode off without even making sure you were following. You let out a puff of air. Great, he was in that sort of mood.

As soon as you were within range, he tossed you a training sword. You barely caught it, taken off guard.

“Let’s see how much you’ve regressed while galavanting on the continent.” His tone was cold, clearly as upset with you as you were with him. Before you could even get into a starting position, he came at you. You let out a startled noise, blocking his attack.

You narrowed your eyes at him. Fine, if this was how he wanted to play, you weren’t going to be the one to back down.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You could barely catch your breath, evading another one of his attacks. Class had already wrapped up, most Priestesses packing up their things to go back to the library. But Azriel hadn’t let up one bit.

“Class is over, Az,” you panted, side stepping another attack. “Can we stop?”

“Class is over when I say it is,” he growled at you. He lifted his sword above his head and came down with an overhead attack. You had to roll out of the way to avoid it.

“What’s gotten into you?” You snapped, putting some distance between you and him, trying to steady yourself. Azriel had never treated you like this before.

“You’re the one who declared you’re not a child anymore last night,” he snapped back at you. “So I’m not treating you like one. Suck it up, princess, and either disarm me or surrender.”

You gritted your teeth together, annoyed that he was acting like such a prick. Why the hell was he so upset with you? You had done nothing to him.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Shut up and fight me,” he growled. “Or surrender and go back to being coddled by your brother like always.”

Fury sparked a fire in your gut. Since when did you ever ask to be coddled by Rhys? He had been the one that was overprotective, to the point of being paranoid. All you ever did was try to be the person your brother expected you to be, to not have him worry over you. You attacked him this time but he was quick to parry. You felt frustrated tears start to build in your eyes.

“Oh don’t start crying now,” Azriel snarled. “You asked for this.”

“I never asked for anything from you!” You could hardly keep your sword in your hand, your body shaking from the anger you felt.

“Because your brother caters to your every need.” He spat out the word brother like it was a curse and that only fueled the fire building in you. “He gives you everything you want, takes care of you, and still you decide to go run off to the continent, causing him to constantly worry about you.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped. “And keep my brother out of this. You know nothing about our relationship!”

He maneuvered behind you, using his free arm to wrap around your neck and pull you flush against his body. You were both panting, both sweating. You could faintly hear Cassian yelling at you guys to stop but you ignored him, too lost in your own anger.

Azriel leaned down, his breath dancing against your ear. “I know you’re just a burden to him. Just another responsibility that fell on his shoulders.”

The breath was expelled from your lungs, your stomach twisted into a knot. A burden? Is that how Rhys truly saw you? Just something he was being forced to take care of?

You elbowed Azriel in the stomach and kicked him in the chest away from you. He slid to a stop in the sand but then came back twice as hard. You tried to evade, tried to parry his attacks, but it was no use. You were not close to being the warrior Azriel was.

A knock to your wrist had your sword flying from you hand and you fell on your backside, scooting away from him. He didn’t seem to notice he had unarmed you and raised his sword to slash at you again. You let out a whimper of fear and lifted your hands up to block your face.

The sword sliced down the middle of your palm and you let out a pained cry. Azriel immediately froze, towering over your much smaller form on the ground. His eyes widened, the sword slipped out of his hand and suddenly Cassian was in between you two, his wings flaring out to block you as he shoved Azriel in the chest—hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cassian screamed at him. He shoved him again but Azriel paid him no mind, his eyes stuck on you still sitting on the floor, now cradling your hand to your chest as blood dripped down your skin.

“Y/n…” Your name came from his lips, pure anguish in his voice as he stared at you in horror, as if now realizing he had gone way too far. You scrambled to your feet, fighting to rein in your tears.

Azriel stepped towards you but Cassian grabbed him by the shoulder roughly. “No, leave her alone. Why don’t you tell me what the hell that was?!”

Nesta was glancing between you and Azriel in shock and when she started to make her way towards you, you magick your wings, unfurled them, and took off into the sky as agony ripped through you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You had hoped to make it to your bedroom before running into anyone, but as per usual, the Mother decided to spite you. You nearly crashed into Rhys as you hurried down the hall. He caught you by your shoulders, his nostrils flaring as he smelt blood, before he looked down at you in surprise.

"Are you okay?" he asked before taking in the tears still pouring down your face. "Y/n, what happened? Why are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," you mumbled, trying to skirt around him but he yanked you into his office.

"It's not nothing," he said through clenched teeth, "You're bleeding and crying. Who hurt you?"

"It was just an accident during training this morning. I'm fine."

"Dove, please, I've seen you hurt worse than this and you never shed a tear then," he said, stroking your hair. "What happened?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. "Am...am I a b-burden to you?"

"What?" he gasped in surprise. "Where did you get that idea?"

You shook your head, sniffling. Rhys sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Dove, you are not a burden to me. I don't know why you'd ever think that. I love you so much, too much perhaps. If anything, I'm the one who's burdened you with my incessant worrying."

You wished you felt relief but it just made you cry even more. Your brother continued to stroke your hair, holding you close. "Who caused you to think that?"

"No one," you mumbled into his chest. "It's nothing. I just thought—I don't know."

Rhys pulled back to hold you at arm's length. You tried to avoid eye contact with him but he gripped your chin and forced you to look up at him. Anger was swirling in his eyes. "Tell me who hurt you. Tell me who caused this."

You shook your head, not wanting to cause a fight between your brother and Azriel. His eyes glazed over for a second and you knew he was communicating with someone in his head. You felt yourself tense up. When his focus came back to you, that anger had grown into rage. You knew he had probably asked Cassian what happened at training and you cursed at the General for snitching.

He stepped around you and stalked towards the door just as Feyre entered his office. She gasped in surprise as she caught sight of the two of you. "Gods, what happened?"

Rhys brushed past her. "Stay here with her."

Feyre's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Rhys, what's going on? Where are you going?"

He glanced at her over her shoulder, his teeth bared in a snarl. "I'm going to go kick Azriel's ass."

And then he disappeared in a swirl of darkness.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tag List: @kalulakunundrum @going-through-shit @thelov3lybookworm @tinystarfishgalaxy @cat-or-kitten @abysshaven @vhjlucky13 @polli05927 @nightcourtwritings @wicked-mind @mommyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x female!reader #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #shadowsinger x reader #angst #azriel fic

2K notes · View notes

sugrhigh · 1 year ago

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the scarlet and white colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #hockey au #neighbor au #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #enemies to lovers

610 notes · View notes

onebadassunicorn · 28 days ago

Text

Leather and Lace

pairing: Cassian x Reader

content warnings: none

word count: 9k

Taglist: @motheroffae

Let me know if you would like to be tagged!

******

Chapter 1

Cassian POV

The streets of Velaris were alive with their usual vibrancy, the dusk sky painted in hues of rose and amber. Cassian followed Mor begrudgingly as she strolled ahead, her golden hair catching the last rays of sunlight. She seemed far too smug about this "errand," and the fact that she wouldn’t tell him exactly where they were going set his teeth on edge.

“Mor, if this is another one of your schemes to rope me into something ridiculous…” Cassian grumbled, adjusting the cuffs of his jacket.

“Oh, Cass,” Mor said over her shoulder, a sly grin tugging at her lips, “I promise you’ll enjoy this one. Trust me.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed, suspicion brewing in his chest. “The last time you said that, I ended up refereeing a dance-off between drunk Illyrians at Rita’s.”

Mor laughed, the sound light and teasing. “You’re such a drama queen. This is nothing like that. It’s cultural. Sophisticated.”

When they turned a corner and approached a building with a line of well-dressed attendees snaking out the door, Cassian’s brow furrowed further. The marquee above the entrance read Velaris Lingerie Showcase. He stopped in his tracks.

“Mor.”

“Yes, Cassian?” She turned, her smile practically predatory.

“This is what you dragged me to?” His voice dropped to a low growl, though there was no real menace behind it—just exasperation.

“Of course!” Mor beamed. “You need some culture in your life, big guy. And who knows? You might even thank me later.” She winked before grabbing his arm and hauling him through the door before he could protest further.

The venue was dimly lit, the air filled with a low hum of conversation and soft music. Cassian sank into his seat beside Mor, folding his arms across his broad chest, still grumbling under his breath.

“This better not take all night,” he muttered.

“Oh, hush. Just watch.” Mor leaned back, utterly unbothered, sipping from a flute of champagne.

The lights dimmed further, and a spotlight lit the catwalk as the music shifted. Cassian didn’t expect much. He figured this would just be another one of Mor’s frivolous outings. But when the first model stepped onto the runway, all coherent thought left his brain.

And the moment she appeared, the world seemed to slow.

Cassian sat up straighter, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes locked onto her. She moved with an effortless grace, her hips swaying in time with the sultry music that filled the air. The soft fabric of her lingerie clung to her curves, accentuating her hourglass figure in a way that was both elegant and tantalizing.

Her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, glinting under the golden lights. Her skin glowed, smooth and radiant, and her gray blue eyes—bright and fierce—swept across the room with a confidence that left him utterly captivated.

Holy gods.

She was stunning.

Cassian couldn’t look away. Everything about her demanded his attention, from the way she carried herself with unapologetic confidence to the curve of her lips, which hinted at a knowing smile. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was magnetic, radiating a power and allure that went far beyond her appearance.

Tall and confident, with a figure that seemed sculpted by the gods themselves, she strode onto the catwalk wearing black lace lingerie that accentuated her curvy hips and small waist. Her skin glowed under the lights, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. The crowd erupted in applause, but Cassian barely noticed. His jaw slackened as he took in the sway of her hips, the way her honeyed smile seemed to light up the entire room.

“Close your mouth, Cass,” Mor whispered, leaning toward him with a mischievous grin. “You’re drooling.”

He snapped his mouth shut, heat rushing to his face as he glared at her. “I am not drooling.”

“You so are,” she teased, eyes twinkling. “Isn’t she gorgeous? That’s Y/n. My friend. The one I told you about.”

Cassian stiffened, his gaze snapping to Mor. “That’s your friend?”

“The one and only.” Mor’s grin grew impossibly wider. “I told you she’s beautiful.”

Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it. Y/n practically floated down the runway, her movements effortless and enchanting. She exuded confidence, her every step commanding the room’s attention—and Cassian’s especially. For someone who prided himself on being composed, he felt completely blindsided.

His heart pounded in his chest as his gaze followed her every step. She was nothing like the women he’d been with before—waif-like figures who seemed to disappear next to him. No, she was all soft curves and strength, full breasts, small waist, curvy hips and long toned legs…her body a perfect balance of feminine grace and undeniable power.

She’s incredible.

He felt something stir deep within him, a possessive need he hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t just desire, though that was certainly there, thrumming through his veins. It was something more primal, something that made his Illyrian instincts sit up and take notice.

His eyes darted to the men seated around him, and his jaw tightened as he saw the way they stared at her, their gazes lingering too long on the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips. A possessive heat stirred in his chest, irrational but undeniable. He didn’t even know her, yet the thought of anyone else looking at her like that made his hands itch to tighten into fists.

He felt a surge of protectiveness, an irrational but undeniable urge to stand and let them all know she was off-limits—even though she wasn’t his.

Not yet.

Cassian leaned back in his seat, his heart still racing. He’d seen beautiful women before—he wasn’t blind—but none of them had ever affected him like this. There was something about her, something that called to him in a way he couldn’t explain.

“She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Mor’s voice broke through his thoughts, her tone laced with amusement.

Mor nudged him. “So? What do you think?”

“Gorgeous doesn’t even cover it,” he muttered, his gaze still fixed on the stage.

Mor chuckled, leaning back in her seat. “You’re hooked. I can see it.”

Cassian didn’t respond. His thoughts were consumed by Y/n—by the way she had commanded the room.

Mor laughed, clearly enjoying his flustered state. “Just wait. You’ll meet her after the show.”

*******

Y/n POV

You stood backstage in front of a gilded mirror, adjusting the delicate straps of your second ensemble—a rich crimson lace set adorned with intricate floral embroidery. You inhaled deeply, the familiar thrill of performing washing over you. But tonight, there was an added layer of curiosity simmering beneath your usual confidence.

Mor had mentioned bringing someone to the show. Cassian, she’d said, with a knowing twinkle in her eye. The name alone carried weight. You had heard stories about the fearsome Illyrian general, his strength, his loyalty, and, of course, his devastating charm. You’d assumed the tales were exaggerated—legends spun out of proportion. But now, knowing he was sitting in the audience, likely watching your every move, you couldn’t deny the faint flicker of nerves beneath your skin.

What does he look like? you wondered as you slipped into a silky robe, waiting for your next cue. You imagined someone brash, maybe a little arrogant—a warrior who carried the air of a man used to getting his way. But Mor had assured you there was more to him. He’s a softie underneath it all, Mor had said with a laugh. Though he’d sooner die than admit it.

As the stagehand motioned for you to take your place, you straightened your shoulders, letting your nerves dissipate. Whoever he was, he was just another audience member. Your confidence surged as the music swelled, and you stepped back onto the catwalk.

********

Cassian POV

Cassian wasn’t sure what had possessed him to stay seated. From the moment she had first walked out, he’d been struck silent, his usual wit and composure completely obliterated. She was… breathtaking. Her curves, the way her body moved with effortless grace, the confident glint in her eyes—it all hit him harder than any opponent ever had.

When she’d disappeared backstage after her first pass, Cassian had thought it was a one-time shock. But as the second act began and she emerged again, this time in crimson lace that seemed to set her skin aglow, he knew it wasn’t a fluke. His throat went dry as he watched her glide across the stage, every step purposeful and magnetic.

Focus, Cassian, he told himself, but his eyes were glued to her.

He couldn’t help it.

There was something mesmerizing about her. She wasn’t just beautiful—though she undoubtedly was—but there was a confidence in her that he found… intoxicating. She owned the stage, every tilt of her chin and sway of her hips commanding attention.

His mind wandered, unbidden.

He wondered what her laugh sounded like up close, what it would feel like to have her attention solely on him.

The thought caught him off guard.

He wasn’t one to be so easily captivated.

Yet here he was, practically spellbound.

He barely registered Mor’s sidelong glances and whispered teasing. He was too busy drinking in the sight of her, imagining how her name might sound rolling off his tongue.

********

Y/n POV

Backstage, you caught your reflection in the mirror, your lips curving into a small, secret smile. You couldn’t see him from the stage, but you felt him. You’d caught glimpses of the crowd before walking out and had spotted Mor, who was impossible to miss with her radiant beauty. Seated beside her, however, was a towering figure who could only be Cassian.

The stories didn’t do him justice. His presence radiated even from a distance. Those broad shoulders, the strong jawline, and the dark, piercing eyes… he looked every bit the warrior you’d imagined. But there was something else in his expression that intrigued you. The way he watched you, as if he were seeing more than just the lingerie, sent a shiver of excitement through you.

He’s interested, you thought, biting your lip. The idea both thrilled and unsettled you. It had been a long time since someone’s attention felt this… intense. Most men were intimidated by you, or worse, treated you like a trophy. Except for your ex, Elias. He knew how to use words as a weapon and left marks where no one would see them.

Cassian, though, seemed different.

You shook your head as you slipped into your third outfit—a sheer, icy blue set that contrasted beautifully with your complexion. Focus, Y/n. You’re here to work, not flirt.

Still, as you stepped onto the runway again, your confidence soared, buoyed by the knowledge that his eyes were likely fixed on you.

********

Cassian POV

By the time Y/n emerged in her third outfit, Cassian was beginning to lose his grip on reality. The icy blue lace hugged her curves in a way that was almost unfair, her figure illuminated by the soft spotlight. She looked ethereal, like she belonged to another realm entirely.

Cassian leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees, his focus sharp. He couldn’t look away, and it wasn’t just her beauty—it was her energy, the way she carried herself. She wasn’t just wearing the lingerie; she owned it, as if every step she took declared that she was untouchable and yet completely magnetic.

For a brief moment, their gazes met—or at least, it felt that way to Cassian. He swore she looked directly at him, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile before she turned away. His heart kicked against his ribs.

“Gods, you’re hopeless,” Mor whispered beside him, her tone thick with amusement.

“Shut up,” he muttered, though his voice lacked any real bite. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. Something about her pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

It wasn’t just lust—though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want her.

It was more.

She intrigued him.

She made him wonder about things he had no business thinking during a lingerie show.

What’s her story? he thought, watching her disappear backstage again.

Who is she when she’s not on stage?

As the show continued, Cassian barely registered the other models. They were beautiful, sure, but none of them came close to the woman who had stolen his attention, his breath, and possibly his sanity.

When the final applause echoed through the hall, Cassian stood, his mind already made up. He wasn’t leaving until he saw her again.

Until he spoke to her.

********

Cassian POV

The crowd had mostly dispersed, leaving the venue quieter, the buzz of excitement lingering in the air. Cassian stood near the edge of the stage, his hands shoved into his pockets. He tried to feign nonchalance, but Mor’s smug grin beside him made it impossible to feel remotely at ease.

“Relax, Cass,” Mor said, leaning in. “You’re acting like you’re meeting the Mother herself.”

He shot her a glare. “You didn’t say she’d be this…” He trailed off, searching for the right word but failing.

“Beautiful? Stunning? Intimidating?” Mor offered, laughing at his scowl. “All accurate. You’re practically vibrating with nervous energy.” She rolled her eyes. “Relax. She’s just a person.”

A person?

Cassian huffed internally.

Y/n was a goddess in fae form.

How was he supposed to act normal around her?

Before he could retort, the backstage doors swung open. Y/n emerged, now dressed in a simple yet elegant black dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. Her hair was still styled from the show, tumbling over her shoulders in glossy waves, and her makeup—though softer now—still accentuated her warm, golden complexion. She looked just as breathtaking as she had on stage, if not more.

Cassian felt his throat tighten as she approached, her smile lighting up the room.

As Y/n approached, Cassian felt a rush of nerves—something he wasn’t used to. He could face down armies without breaking a sweat, but the sight of this woman walking toward him had his heart racing.

“Mor,” Y/n greeted warmly, pulling her friend into a quick hug before turning her gaze to Cassian. “And you must be Cassian.”

For a moment, he was speechless. Up close, her beauty was almost overwhelming, but it was the sharp intelligence in her eyes and the easy confidence in her posture that struck him most. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to regain his composure. “The one and only.”

Her smile widened, a hint of amusement in her expression. “So I’ve heard.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over him—not in a scrutinizing way, but as if she were genuinely curious.

Cassian huffed a laugh, one corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk. “And you’re just as intimidating as Mor said you’d be.”

Y/n raised an elegant brow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Intimidating? That’s not what people usually say.”

“Then they’re blind,” Cassian said without hesitation, his voice low but sincere. The words came out before he could think better of them, and he immediately felt a rush of heat climb his neck.

Y/n’s laughter rang out, light and melodic, putting him at ease. “Well, you’re certainly charming,” she said, her gaze lingering on him. “I can see why Mor sings your praises.”

“Oh, don’t encourage him,” Mor interjected, rolling her eyes. “His ego’s big enough already.”

Y/n grinned but kept her focus on Cassian. “So, what did you think of the show?”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, trying to find words that wouldn’t make him sound like an awestruck fool. “It was… impressive. You were impressive.”

Her eyes softened, her smile turning more genuine. “Thank you. It means a lot coming from you.”

“You’ve heard of me, then?” he asked, his smirk returning as he leaned slightly closer.

“Who hasn’t?” She shot back, undeterred. “The mighty Cassian, defender of Velaris, hero of Prythian…” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle before her lips twitched in a teasing smile. “I half-expected you to show up in armor.”

He laughed, the sound deep and warm. “I’ll wear it next time, if you’d like.”

“Please don’t,” Mor groaned, interrupting them again. “He already draws enough attention without adding armor into the mix.”

Y/n chuckled, but her attention was still on Cassian, her amusement fading into something quieter, more thoughtful. “You’re different than I imagined.”

“Good different?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes searching hers.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Very.”

Something unspoken passed between them, the moment stretching just long enough for Mor to clear her throat dramatically. “Well, I think my work here is done. You two seem perfectly capable of entertaining each other.”

Y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “Mor…”

But Mor was already stepping away, giving them a mock salute as she headed toward the bar. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” she called over her shoulder.

Now alone, Cassian turned back to Y/n, his nerves dissipating as he settled into the easy confidence he was known for

“So… how does one get into the lingerie modeling business?”

Y/n tilted her head, her smile widening. “How does one become a legendary Illyrian warrior?” she shot back.

Touché. Cassian grinned, already feeling like he could get used to this. “So, do you always make Illyrian warriors weak in the knees, or is it just me?”

Y/n smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I think that depends. Do you always stumble over your words around lingerie models?”

He barked a laugh, genuinely impressed by her quick wit. “Fair enough. But in my defense, you’re not just any model.”

“And you’re not just any warrior,” she countered, her voice softening slightly.

Her words caught him off guard, the sincerity behind them making his chest tighten. He studied her for a moment, noting the way she held his gaze without flinching, the way her confidence didn’t feel forced or performative. She was entirely herself, and that was what made her so damn captivating.

********

Cassian POV

As they stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air, Cassian slid a glance at Y/n, who walked beside him with effortless grace. She looked even more striking now, her black dress skimming her hourglass figure, the faint sheen of moonlight highlighting the curves that had him utterly transfixed during the show. Her confidence radiated off her in waves, and for a man like Cassian—who had spent his life surrounded by powerful, formidable women—he found himself utterly captivated.

“So,” he began, his voice a touch more casual than he felt, “you want to grab a drink? There’s a place nearby that’s… lively.”

Y/n arched a brow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Are you asking me on a date, General?”

Cassian chuckled, raking a hand through his hair. “Let’s call it reconnaissance. I need to figure out how someone like you exists in Velaris without me knowing.”

Her laugh was soft, the sound warm and inviting. “All right, then. Lead the way.”

The walk to Rita’s was short, but it felt longer than usual to Cassian, who was hyper-aware of Y/n’s presence beside him. As they approached the bustling club, its vibrant energy spilling out into the streets, he hesitated for half a second. Rita’s was his stomping ground, a place where he was comfortable, even notorious.

But bringing her here felt… different.

She wasn’t just another fling or casual date.

She was something else entirely, though he wasn’t quite ready to define what.

The moment they walked in, heads turned.

Cassian felt it immediately—the shift in the air, the way every male in the place seemed to stop what they were doing to look at her.

It wasn’t subtle.

Eyes followed her every step as she made her way through the crowd with the kind of poise that made her seem untouchable. Whispers rippled through the room, murmurs of appreciation, disbelief, and more than a few not-so-discreet comments that made Cassian’s jaw clench.

He wasn’t used to this. Usually, he was the one commanding attention. But tonight? He might as well have been invisible. Every male’s focus was on her—on her long legs, the elegant sway of her curvy hips, the way her dress hugged her impossibly small waist and emphasized the fullness of her chest. She was the kind of beautiful that left people speechless, the kind that lingered in their minds long after she was gone.

For the first time in his life, Cassian felt a pang of what he could only describe as jealousy.

He’d been with beautiful women before—plenty of them.

But this was different.

This wasn’t a fleeting attraction or a conquest.

This was Y/n, and the thought of any of these males thinking they had a shot with her made his blood simmer.

He stole a glance at her as they approached the bar, expecting her to be flustered or annoyed by the attention. Instead, she seemed completely unfazed, her lips tilted in a faint smile, her posture relaxed and unbothered.

It struck him then: she was used to this.

Of course she was.

Someone like her probably drew this kind of attention everywhere she went.

And yet, she was here with him.

“You all right there, General?” Y/n’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She leaned against the bar, her gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “You look like you’re ready to start throwing punches.”

Cassian huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Just didn’t realize I was walking into a battlefield.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “And here I thought you thrived in those.”

“This is different,” he muttered, leaning closer so only she could hear. “They’re all looking at you like you’re dessert, and I’m not sure I like it.”

Her smile softened, a mix of amusement and something warmer. “I’ve dealt with worse. Besides, I’m not here for them.”

The simple truth in her words sent a rush of warmth through him, though it didn’t entirely ease the knot of tension in his chest. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing around the room, his sharp gaze meeting and challenging every male who dared to linger too long in their staring. A few quickly looked away, cowed by the force of his presence. Others, however, seemed undeterred, their gazes drifting back to her as though they couldn’t help themselves.

Cassian clenched his fists, the possessiveness simmering beneath his skin catching him off guard. This was new—this feeling of wanting to shield someone, not because they needed protection, but because he wanted them to feel safe, to feel valued.

“You get used to it,” Y/n said, her voice quieter now, her eyes thoughtful as she studied him. “Being looked at like you’re a prize or a piece of meat, I mean. It used to bother me, but now… I just ignore it.”

Cassian frowned, leaning against the bar beside her. “You shouldn’t have to. They should show some damned respect.”

She laughed softly, reaching for the drink the bartender set in front of her. “You sound like Mor.”

“Maybe she’s right for once,” he muttered, taking a long sip of his own drink.

She turned to him fully then, her gaze steady, unflinching. “Do you always let things like this get under your skin?”

“Not usually.” He met her eyes, his voice steady but laced with something deeper. “But you’re not ‘usual,’ Y/n.”

Her lips parted slightly, her expression flickering with something unreadable. For a moment, they just looked at each other, the noise of the club fading into the background.

“I think I like that about you,” she said softly, her smile returning but gentler this time.

Cassian’s heart kicked in his chest, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. And no matter how many males in the room wanted her, he knew she’d chosen to be here with him.

That knowledge alone was enough to steady him, to make him stand a little taller, prouder, as he leaned closer and murmured, “Let’s see if they’re still staring when I’ve got you on the dance floor.”

Her laugh was bright and warm as she took his hand, letting him lead her into the crowd.

The music pulsed through Rita’s, a sensual rhythm that vibrated in the very air around them. Cassian guided Y/n onto the dance floor, his large hand wrapped around hers, his confidence bolstered by her easy smile. She followed him willingly, her eyes glittering with mischief under the dim, colorful lights.

As they reached the center of the floor, she turned to face him, her hips already swaying to the beat. Cassian hesitated for a fraction of a second—unusual for him, given that he was rarely self-conscious. But when her hands slid up his chest, her touch warm even through the fabric of his shirt, all hesitation vanished.

They moved together as though they’d been doing this for years. She pressed closer, her body fitting against his with a natural ease that made his heart thrum harder than the music. Her curves seemed perfectly made for him—her soft hips against his hard thighs, the line of her waist leading up to the gentle press of her chest against his broad frame.

Cassian had danced with countless women before, but none of them felt like this. The waif-like girls he’d entertained in the past had always disappeared against his size, their frames delicate and insubstantial. Y/n was different. She was all soft curves and toned strength, her body a perfect balance of curves and muscle that complemented his every move. When his hands settled on her hips, his fingers splayed wide, he could feel the solidness of her, the warmth, the way she leaned into his touch without hesitation.

Her long legs moved in time with his, and the way she swayed her hips—graceful, confident, utterly uninhibited—sent a surge of heat coursing through him. He tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer until there was barely any space between them. The lights around them blurred, the noise of the crowd faded. All he could focus on was her—the intoxicating scent of her skin, the way her hair brushed against his arm when she tipped her head back to laugh, the molten look in her eyes when she met his gaze.

She wasn’t just a vision—she was a presence. And as they danced, Cassian couldn’t help but notice how every single person on the floor seemed to orbit around them.

Eyes followed them, some with envy, some with unabashed desire. Every male in the room seemed to be watching her—watching them. And for the first time in his life, Cassian truly understood what it was like to be on the other side of the equation.

To be the one whose partner was the object of everyone’s fantasies.

The thought stirred something primal in him, a possessiveness he hadn’t anticipated.

She wasn’t just with him—she chose to be with him tonight. And as she moved against him, her curves aligning with his body in ways that felt maddeningly perfect, he reveled in it. He loved that every single person looking at her was also looking at him, wishing they were in his place.

When she wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to murmur, “You’re not bad at this,” her voice was soft and teasing, but her gaze was warm, genuine.

Cassian grinned, his hands sliding lower on her waist, anchoring her against him. “Not bad? That’s the best you’ve got?”

She laughed, her breath brushing against his ear as she leaned in. “You might even be good.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough, as he dipped his head to look her straight in the eyes. “I’ll take it. But don’t let me do all the work.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started,” she shot back, her tone playful but with a hint of challenge.

Gods, she was incredible. Cassian let himself get lost in her, in the way her body fit so perfectly against his, in the way she moved with him, like they were two pieces of a puzzle finally snapping into place.

The music shifted to something slower, more intimate, and she didn’t hesitate to stay close. She slid her hands up to his shoulders, her fingers brushing the back of his neck as she pressed herself fully against him. Cassian let his hands settle on the curve of her hips, holding her steady as they swayed together.

He dipped his head slightly, his lips close to her ear. “You know they’re all watching you.”

Y/n tilted her head back to meet his gaze, her smile slow and knowing. “No, Cassian,” she said softly, her voice steady and sure. “They’re watching us.”

The words hit him square in the chest, and for a moment, he forgot how to breathe.

She wasn’t embarrassed by the attention or overwhelmed by it.

She owned it, the same way she owned the stage earlier, the same way she owned every inch of space she occupied.

And now, she was here with him.

He smirked, unable to stop himself from tightening his hold on her. “Let them look,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I’ve got the best view in the house.”

His hands rested firmly on her waist as they continued to sway to the music, her body perfectly aligned with his. The feel of her beneath his fingers was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. She wasn’t just soft where it mattered—her curves fitting against him in ways that made his heart race—she was strong.

Solid.

Real.

As his hands slid slightly lower, brushing the curve of her hips, he felt the subtle definition of muscle beneath the smooth fabric of her dress. She moved with the kind of effortless grace that only came from a body honed by strength and purpose, and it captivated him. When his fingers grazed her lower back, just above her hips, he felt the faint ripple of her toned stomach through the fabric. His hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring her closer was the only way to steady himself against the sudden wave of attraction that surged through him.

She wasn’t fragile or delicate, like so many of the women he’d danced with before. She wasn’t the type to disappear beneath his size or strength. Instead, her body met his, matched him, with a balance that felt impossibly right. Her curves—soft, lush, and inviting—blended seamlessly with the toned definition of her legs and core. It was clear she took care of herself, and the combination was enough to make his head spin.

As they moved together, her body melted into his in ways that felt like a revelation. When her leg brushed his, he could feel the firm strength of her thighs, the way they supported the fluidity of her movements. Her steps were light, graceful, but there was a quiet power in them that only added to her allure. She didn’t rely on him to guide her; she was perfectly capable of holding her own, and that confidence radiated in every motion.

His gaze dropped for a moment, taking in the faint glimpse of her toned calves beneath the hem of her dress as they shifted with every step. Her legs were long and sculpted, the kind that spoke of endurance and capability. He found himself wondering if she danced regularly or trained in some way, but whatever the reason, the result was undeniable.

Her stomach, though hidden beneath the fabric of her dress, brushed against his torso as she leaned into him. He could feel the strength there too, the faint firmness beneath her soft curves. It wasn’t just the way she looked—it was the way she felt that struck him. She was the perfect blend of strength and femininity, a balance that left him utterly spellbound.

Cassian’s thoughts swirled as he tightened his arms around her, marveling at how effortlessly she moved with him, how their bodies fit together in ways he hadn’t thought possible.

She wasn’t some delicate flower he needed to shield from the world.

She was a storm, strong and unyielding, but with a warmth that invited him in rather than pushing him away.

His gaze shifted up to meet hers, and the look in her eyes stole whatever breath he had left. She seemed completely at ease, as if this closeness was the most natural thing in the world. Her confidence only amplified her beauty, and Cassian couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride at the way she melted into his hold—strong, steady, but also allowing herself to lean into him in a way that felt intimate and trusting.

“Do you always dance like this?” he murmured, his voice low as he leaned closer, his lips brushing near her ear.

Her lips curved into a faint, teasing smile. “Like what?”

“Like you were made for it,” he replied, his voice rougher than he intended.

Her laughter was soft, her breath warm against his neck. “I think you just bring it out in me.”

The words sent a jolt through him, and for a moment, he was grateful for the dim lighting because he was sure the heat rushing to his face was impossible to miss. She tilted her head back to look at him, her gray eyes bright with something that made his chest tighten.

“And what about you?” she asked, her tone playful. “Do you always dance like this?”

Cassian smirked, his hands sliding just slightly lower on her hips as he pulled her closer. “No,” he admitted. “I’ve never had the right partner before.”

Her gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them swaying together in the center of the crowded dance floor.

As the song shifted into something slower, Cassian’s hands remained steady on her waist, holding her close as they swayed together. Her body fit perfectly against his, her strength and curves leaving him unable to focus on anything else. But despite the electric tension between them, his curiosity got the better of him.

“You know,” he murmured, his deep voice carrying easily over the muted hum of the crowd, “I can’t believe I’ve never seen you in Velaris before.”

She tilted her head back slightly, meeting his gaze with a faint smile. “You mean you haven’t been stalking every lingerie model in the city?” she teased, her tone light but playful.

Cassian huffed a laugh, his lips quirking into a smirk. “I’m serious. You don’t exactly blend into the crowd.”

Her smile softened, and she looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. “I’m not here all the time. I travel a lot for work—different courts, different shows. Velaris is home, but it’s not where I spend most of my time.”

He arched a brow, intrigued. “Different courts, huh? So, what you’re saying is that every corner of Prythian gets to see you strut around in lingerie, but Velaris barely gets a glimpse?”

Her laughter was soft, warm, and entirely too captivating. “Something like that,” she admitted, her bluish gray eyes sparkling. “There’s always demand for these kinds of shows. Each court has its own preferences, its own… style.”

That piqued his interest. He tightened his hold on her waist slightly, leaning in just a fraction closer. “What kind of styles are we talking about here?”

Y/n grinned, clearly enjoying his curiosity. “Well, it depends on the court,” she began, her voice smooth and melodic. “In the Summer Court, for example, they love pieces that are light and airy—soft silks and gauzy fabrics that catch the light. Think ocean-inspired colors, delicate designs, something that looks effortless but still elegant.”

Cassian imagined her in shimmering blues and greens, fabrics so light they might seem like water themselves, clinging to her curves as she moved. His throat went dry at the thought. “Sounds fitting,” he managed, his voice a touch rougher than he intended.

She nodded, continuing without missing a beat. “The Autumn Court, on the other hand, is all about deep, rich tones—burgundy, gold, and burnt orange. The designs are more intricate, heavier on the embroidery. They like opulence, drama, something that reflects their court’s grandeur.”

“Let me guess,” Cassian said, smirking. “Lots of corsets.”

“Exactly,” she said with a laugh, the sound sending a jolt of warmth through him. “And they’re gorgeous, but not always the most comfortable to model in.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing the small of her back in an absent gesture. “What about the Night Court? What’s our style?”

She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Velaris is… unique. It’s all about boldness and confidence here. Dark, sleek pieces that are daring but still refined—lace, leather, even sheer designs that leave just enough to the imagination. The kind of lingerie that makes a statement.”

Cassian grinned, his hands flexing slightly on her hips as he imagined her in something dark and bold, like she described. “So, in other words, it’s perfect for you.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but her smile remained steady. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he replied without hesitation, his voice dropping just enough to make her breath hitch. “You’re bold and confident. You could wear anything and still make it look like it was designed just for you.”

Y/n looked up at him, her lips curving into a softer smile. For a moment, her playful demeanor shifted into something more sincere. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet but warm.

He let the moment linger before tilting his head, his curiosity returning. “What about the other courts? Any favorites?”

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound. “Spring is… colorful. Florals everywhere—bright pastels, soft textures. It’s playful, but not really my favorite.”

“I’m not surprised,” Cassian said with a smirk. “Doesn’t really suit someone with your fire.”

She arched a brow, but her smile widened. “The Winter Court is fun, though. They go for icy tones—white, silver, pale blue. Lots of fur and velvets. It’s dramatic in its own way, but there’s a kind of elegance to it.”

“And which one do you like best?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly as he leaned closer, genuinely curious.

Her expression softened, her eyes flickering with thought. “I think… the Night Court, honestly. The pieces here reflect the kind of confidence I want to embody. It’s not just about looking good—it’s about feeling powerful, unapologetic. I love that.”

Cassian’s grip on her waist tightened ever so slightly as a slow grin spread across his face. “That’s fitting. You’re all of those things.”

Her breath caught for a fraction of a second, her eyes searching his. For once, she didn’t have a teasing quip ready. Instead, her smile turned more intimate, her voice soft. “Maybe that’s why I always come back here.”

“Lucky us,” Cassian murmured, his voice low and rough, his eyes never leaving hers.

********

Cassian POV

The two of them found a quieter corner of Rita’s as the night wound on, sitting at a small table away from the crowd. The soft hum of music and laughter still filled the air, but it felt like a backdrop to the easy flow of their conversation. Cassian leaned back in his chair, his wings draped over the sides, as Y/n propped her chin on her hand, studying him with those gray eyes that seemed to see straight through him.

“So,” she said, her tone light but curious, “what does a normal day in the life of Cassian look like?”

Cassian huffed a soft laugh, running a hand through his dark hair. “Not as exciting as you’d think. Most days start early—training sessions with the Illyrians, keeping the bastards in line. After that, it’s usually meetings with Rhys, Az, and the others. Planning patrols, overseeing defenses, all that fun stuff. If I’m lucky, I squeeze in a few sparring matches or flight drills.”

She tilted her head. “And when you’re not protecting the realm?”

His grin turned crooked. “I guess I’m like anyone else. I like a good drink, a loud laugh, and occasionally embarrassing myself at Rita’s dance floor—though maybe not tonight.” He smirked, tipping his glass toward her.

She chuckled. “That sounds… oddly normal for someone who’s half-legend.”

“Half-legend?” he teased, raising a brow. “What’s the other half?”

She smiled, her gaze flickering over him in a way that made his chest tighten. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Cassian shook his head, laughing. “What about you? What’s life like when you’re not on a runway?”

Her expression grew thoughtful as she traced the rim of her glass with her fingertip. “When I’m home in Velaris, it’s quiet. I like to spend time with my family when I can—they live in the city, though they travel less than I do. But most of the time, it’s work. Shows, fittings, photo shoots… It doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything else.”

“Family’s important,” Cassian said, his voice softening. “Do they ever come to your shows?”

She smiled. “Sometimes. My mother loves it—she’s my biggest fan. My father’s more reserved, but he’s supportive in his own way. They’re proud, I think, but they don’t always understand the demands of what I do.”

Cassian nodded, his gaze steady on her. “It sounds like a lot to juggle. Do you ever get tired of it?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I love it. Modeling gives me a kind of freedom I don’t think I’d find anywhere else. Still, it can be… isolating.”

“How so?” he asked, leaning forward slightly, genuinely curious.

She hesitated, then sighed. “It doesn’t leave much room for relationships. Most men I’ve dated can’t handle it. They’ll start off saying they’re fine with my job, but eventually, the attention—the looks, the comments—they get to them. They develop this… inferiority complex, and then it’s all over. They can’t handle dating someone who’s constantly in the spotlight. It’s easier to just avoid it altogether.”

Her honesty caught him off guard, and something in her tone tugged at his chest. “That’s their loss,” he said quietly. “They must’ve been fools to let you go.”

She gave him a small, almost sad smile. “Maybe. But what about you? I’m sure there’s someone waiting at home for a hero like you.”

Cassian shook his head, his grin fading into something more subdued. “No. I’ve had relationships, sure, but nothing that stuck. The attention I get…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening briefly before he continued. “It’s the same story, really. Women say they’re fine with it at first, but after a while, it becomes too much. They tell me they feel like they’re always competing, like I’ll drop them the second someone prettier or more exciting comes along.”

Y/n’s brows knit together, her expression softening. “That must hurt.”

“It does,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “I’m not shallow, but they assume I am because of the way I look or the way people act around me. They don’t see the rest of it—the loyalty, the effort. They just… assume I’m going to break their hearts before they can break mine.”

Y/n reached across the table, her fingers brushing his lightly. “That’s not fair to you.”

Cassian’s eyes flicked to her hand, the touch sending a quiet warmth through him. “Maybe not, but I get it. The world we live in—it’s not easy to trust someone who’s always in the spotlight.”

She nodded, her gaze searching his. “It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Being judged for things beyond your control?”

“It is,” he admitted, his voice steady but tinged with something deeper. “But it’s worse when someone you care about doesn’t believe in you.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the weight of their shared experiences filling the space between them. Then she smiled, small but genuine. “For what it’s worth, you don’t seem shallow to me.”

Cassian grinned, the warmth returning to his eyes. “And you don’t seem like the kind of woman who’d let a few jealous fools dictate her worth.”

Her laugh was soft but full of warmth. “Touché.”

He leaned back, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “To finding people who actually see us for who we are.”

She clinked her glass against his, her smile widening. “I’ll drink to that.”

As they sipped their drinks, the tension between them shifted into something quieter, more intimate.

********

Cassian POV

The streets of Velaris were quiet and bathed in the soft glow of starlight as Cassian walked beside Y/n, their pace unhurried. The night air was cool, but not uncomfortably so, and a gentle breeze ruffled his hair as they strolled.

“So,” Cassian began, his voice low and easy, “do you always make people forget entire hours of their lives? Or is that just something you did to me tonight?”

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that he was beginning to think was his favorite sound in the world. “Is that your way of saying you had a good time?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he replied, glancing at her with a grin. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, and she smiled. “It was… nice. Getting to know you. You’re not what I expected.”

He raised a brow. “Oh? What did you expect?”

She tilted her head, pretending to think. “Someone cockier, I think. Arrogant. Maybe a little too full of himself.”

Cassian feigned a look of offense. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly humble.”

She laughed again, and he couldn’t help but smile. Gods, she was radiant, even under the pale light of the moon.

As they walked, their hands brushed once, then twice, before Cassian finally took a chance. He reached out, his larger hand enveloping hers.

For a moment, he held his breath, wondering if she’d pull away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, her fingers curled around his, and the warmth of her touch sent a quiet thrill through him.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, the sound of their footsteps the only noise in the stillness of the night. Cassian’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand absently, and she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she leaned a little closer, her shoulder occasionally bumping his arm.

As they reached her townhouse, she slowed, turning to face him with a soft smile. “This is me.”

Cassian glanced at the charming little building, then back at her. He didn’t let go of her hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he teased, though his voice was softer now.

Her smile widened, but there was a hint of regret in her eyes. “I leave for the Summer Court tomorrow,” she admitted. “There’s a show there, and I’ll be gone for three days.”

His brows furrowed, and he tightened his grip on her hand slightly. “And here I was about to ask you to dinner.”

She tilted her head, her expression warm. “I’ll be back soon. How about we make it a date for when I return?”

He grinned, relief washing over him. “Deal.”

For a moment, they stood there, the night stretching out around them, neither of them wanting the moment to end. Finally, Cassian took a step closer, his voice dropping as he asked, “Can I kiss you good night?”

Her eyes sparkled, and her smile turned playful. “I was hoping you would.”

As Cassian leaned in, the first brush of his lips against hers was soft, almost tentative. He wanted to savor the moment, to memorize the feel of her—her warmth, the slight hitch in her breath as their mouths met. Her lips were soft and inviting, and when she tilted her head to deepen the kiss, it sent a jolt of heat straight through him. He groaned softly, unable to stop himself from pressing closer.

Her hands slid up to his shoulders, then to the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine. She pulled him closer, her body molding to his in a way that felt maddeningly perfect. The curves of her hips pressed against him, and the intoxicating combination of her strength and softness was enough to make him feel like he was losing himself.

Cassian’s other hand moved from her cheek to her waist, his fingers spreading wide as they pressed against the curve of her hip. She melted into him, her body pliant but not fragile, her confidence evident even in the way she kissed him. He shifted slightly, his large frame enveloping hers as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a fervor that surprised even him.

When her hands slid from his hair to his chest, exploring the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, he groaned again, a sound that rumbled low in his throat. His hand on her waist slipped lower, tracing the curve of her hip, his fingers brushing against the small of her back. He couldn’t stop himself; she was magnetic, and his hands seemed drawn to her, eager to memorize every inch of her.

Her touch mirrored his. Her fingers pressed against his chest, trailing down to the taut muscles of his abdomen, as if she were just as desperate to feel him as he was to feel her. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t shy away from the intensity of their closeness, and it only made him want her more.

Cassian broke the kiss for a fraction of a second, his forehead resting against hers as they both caught their breath. “You’re driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

Her laugh was soft, her lips brushing against his as she whispered, “Good.”

He kissed her again, harder this time, his hand sliding up her back to cradle her neck, holding her in place as his lips claimed hers. She responded just as fiercely, her hands sliding back up to grip his shoulders, her nails grazing his skin through the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sent another jolt through him, his hand tightening on her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.

Their kiss turned heated, the intensity building with each passing moment. Cassian’s hand wandered lower again, resting just above the curve of her backside, and he felt her shiver in response. Her fingers explored the strong line of his jaw, then slid down to trace the veins in his forearms, as if committing him to memory.

He broke the kiss again, just long enough to whisper against her lips, “I don’t want to leave.”

Her gray eyes were heavy-lidded as she looked up at him, her breath coming quickly. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible but filled with longing.

Her words undid him. He kissed her again, pouring everything he felt into the contact. His hand wandered back up to her waist, his fingers brushing the side of her ribcage, and she leaned into him, her body fitting against his like it was meant to. She explored him just as freely, her touch roaming across his shoulders, his chest, her hands never lingering in one place for too long.

Time seemed to blur as they stood there, the world around them forgotten. Her lips were addictive, her touch electric, and Cassian felt like he could spend the rest of his life right there, holding her, kissing her, losing himself in the way she made him feel.

At one point, her hands slid beneath the collar of his shirt, her fingers brushing against the warm skin of his neck. He shivered under her touch, his lips moving to the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, pressing a lingering kiss there before finding her lips again. His hand wandered back to the curve of her hip, gripping her firmly as he kissed her deeply, passionately, like he never wanted to stop.

When he finally, reluctantly, pulled back, they were both breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together. His thumb brushed against her jawline as he looked at her, his gaze soft but intense. “You’re going to ruin me, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice raw.

She smiled, her fingers still tangled in his hair. “Then we’re even.”

Cassian chuckled softly, his hand lingering on her waist as he took another moment to memorize her face, the way her cheeks were flushed, the way her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses. “I can’t wait to see you in three days,” he said quietly.

She nodded, her smile turning softer. “Neither can I.”

Reluctantly, Cassian stepped back, his hands falling away from her as she reached for her door. He watched her as she opened it, pausing to glance back at him one last time. “Good night, Cassian,” she said softly.

“Good night, Y/n,” he replied, his voice tinged with warmth and promise.

As she disappeared inside, Cassian didn’t move immediately. His gaze lingered on the door, his mind replaying every moment of the night. When he finally turned to leave, he took a deep breath, his wings spreading wide as he launched himself into the sky.

From above, the lights of Velaris sparkled like stars, but none of them compared to the way she had looked in his arms. As he flew home, his thoughts were already filled with the promise of seeing her again.

Three days and counting.

Chapter 2

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian fanfiction #cassian acotar #cassian fanfic #cassian x reader #cassian #lord of bloodshed #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian fluff

51 notes · View notes

ametrictonofaudacity · 2 years ago

Note

How would the yandere Batfamily react if reader got sick? Maybe reader ends up so fevered that they start crying if someone isn’t holding them because they don’t understand what’s going on.

Boy oh boy do I love this ask!

Enjoy!

Warnings: altered mental states, overprotectiveness, paranoia, and captivity. Also medical stuff (the use of liquid IV to rehydrate, as well as pills to reduce a fever)

There’s a cool hard carding through your hair and it’s so much better than the cold tile beneath you. The tile was great, sure, but it was hard and uncomfortable and not nearly as nice as the way the hand brushes back your hair and presses against your forehead.

You groan, and blink your eyes open. Dick is kind of fuzzy above you, and his face is twisted in worry, making you want to reach up and wipe that worry away. You manage to weakly push yourself up, before a strong arm supports you, holding you up and keeping you steady. You decide you like that, and hum, the sound a little cracked because of how much your throat hurt.

“Oh, god..”

Dick murmurs, and he sounds almost panicked as he presses a cool hand to your forehead.

“Let’s get you to Alfie, yeah? You’re burning up, Y/N.”

He hums, and strong arms hoist you up, cradling you against an even stronger chest. You sigh, snuggling into the embrace, and you hear that huffy laughter Dick gives when he’s trying not to be mean but finds something funny. Or cute. Could be both.

“How come you aren’t this snuggly without the fever, huh?” He teases, and you’re vaguely aware of the sensation of movement, which makes your stomach twist and churn. He notices.

“Just hold on a little longer, okay? Then you’ll feel so much better.” The man soothes, and at some point, there’s a new body next to you, walking alongside Dick, silent and small but comforting.

It’s Cass. You blink at her, exhausted, and she gives you a gentle smile. You liked Cass, out of all your siblings, she was one of the best. She didn’t crowd you, or demand things you couldn’t give. She could be cuddly, and it was nice when she was, because she always knew when you were upset and tired and frustrated.

You reach out to grab her hand, and she takes it. They’re just as cool as Dick’s, like ice on your fevered skin, and you sigh. Her thumb soothes over the back of your hands, over the delicate bones there, and you hum.

When Dick sets you down, there’s immediately a distressed sound trying to escape your throat, something between a sob and a yell, and Cass is suddenly there, wrapping you up in cool arms. Cass was much closer to your size, and it was nice.

“You’re okay. We won’t leave.” She assures.

You sigh, glad that someone was with you when your body ached and your head was pounding. You lean into the coolness of her embrace, and she runs her fingers through your hair, gently untangling it the best she could. You thought that wasn’t the best idea, since you felt sweaty and gross, but she didn’t seem to mind and the feeling was too nice to really protest.

There’s a prick in your arm.

When you turn your head, the needle is already gone, and you wonder just how long it had taken for your fevered brain to register it.

“Crap. Cass, can you..?”

Cass is pressing something to your lips before Dick finishes, and you take the pill without even thinking about it. A liquid, vaguely sweet, follows it. It’s practically heaven on your parched throat.

“How are they?”

It’s the first time you hear Bruce’s voice all day, and he buries his hands in your hair, not seeming to mind that it was sweaty and kind of gross. You practically melt into the gentleness of it.

“Has their fever gone down any? Have they had enough fluids?”

He questions, even as he moves around you, reaching for things you can’t see and don’t bother looking at. Bruce never risked your health, and your head hurt too much to really care.

“Cass have them some fever reducers and liquid IVs.” Dick hums. “We just administered it, and we’re monitoring their temperature.”

Bruce hums, and you blink when Cass slips away, and you make a distressed noise, tears springing to your eyes. You felt wrung out and exhausted, so when

Bruce is there instantly, wiping the sweat from your face with a damp cloth, and you lean into it, breathing out a sigh of relief. It felt so much better than even Cass’s cuddles, or Dick’s cool hands.

“You’re going to feel better in a little bit. Just hang in there.” He assures gently, and you nod. You trusted Bruce. Or, with this at least. It was hard not to, with the worried gleam in his eyes and the way he held you so gently.

“Why can’t you be this cuddly healthy, huh, baby bat?”

Dick asks, and there’s a tiny pinch in your arm. You cringe at the sensation and he makes an apologetic noise.

“Sorry, sorry, that’s the I.V. We just need to get some fluids in ya, mkay? And bring the fever down.”

You nod, and Bruce runs his hand through your hair again, fixing the strands.

You sigh, drifting off, confident they wouldn’t leave your side.

#yandere dc #yandere platonic x reader #yandere platonic batfam #yandere dick grayson #yandere platonic batfam x reader

885 notes · View notes

zahri-melitor · 6 months ago

Text

Like a lot of people, I am currently in "everyone needs to be real chill and give things a chance" territory over the new title announcements, but I'm going to dip a toe in.

What the new Batgirl title announcement is confirmation of, to me, is that DC internally have agreed again that Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown are separate characters who can be treated separately, and they're proceeding to do that.

How did things end up here? Not to retread well-worn ground over and over, but the two did get conflated together back in the late 2000s between various parts of editorial wanting to remove Cass and Steph from appearing in Bat titles and fans asking to see characters again.

And look, fans supporting each other in explaining to DC editorial that they would like acknowledgement of their favourite characters, and about the streak of misogyny that accompanied their removal, makes sense. But Cass and Steph are separate characters with separate trajectories in storytelling, and I think the way they've become conflated in part of the fandom (and sections of DC's) eyes has been harmful for both.

DC's been a bit each-ways about it, but it's pretty clear that in terms of pitches, writers mostly want to be able to write one character or the other, rather than a double act, and allowing Cass and Steph to appear as separate characters rather than demanding a double act is something the fandom needs to be normal about if they want them used.

Cass' trajectory since Rebirth is reasonably solid, in terms of Detective Comics - Batman and the Outsiders - Batgirls - Spirit World - Batgirl.

She's worked with lots of different groups of characters, she's got her own team affiliations, and as a solo title I think it's got a fair amount of promise; but people are going to need to chill out if there are very few side character and crossover appearances in the first 6 issues. If it's going to develop into a healthy ongoing it needs to be able to do things like have Duke appear for a single issue, and then Tim appear for another issue, and then Xanthe appear for an issue, well spaced out. It should be focused on Cass. It should hopefully let Cass start building her own supporting cast.

Until we see the opening issue it's going to be unclear if the intention here is to spin out of Spirit World or out of Batgirls, but I feel like the more promising trajectory for Cass is if it's coming from Spirit World, in terms of creative direction and new story telling.

So I'm looking forward to seeing what we get. But I also worry for the creative team unless everyone takes a deep breath and decides to enjoy the stories on offer.

#it does not have to be perfect!#go in hoping for it to be enjoyable!#cassandra cain

60 notes · View notes

lexabitxh · 1 year ago

Text

C | Arcángel

summary: God’s righteous angle meets Cas.

perspective: third person

word count: 522

“Who are you?”

The arcángel had questioned her. He has never seen her before; there was something different and disturbing about it.

“What are you?!”

He questioned once again, this time his voice much more demanding and aggressive.

She looked down at Castiel, spreading her white wings, her skin glowing like the moon, as her eyes turned white.

“I am, Y/n. Arcángel and Gauardian of reality. I am everything that was, is and will be.” She said.

Castiel’s expression changed from aggressive to concerned. “I’ve never seen you before. Why make an appearance now?” He asked. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” He added.

Castiel stood there before her, watching her take a step closer towards him. Y/n’s expression had changed to serious, putting the fear of God in him, as she had come face to face with him. “Are you questioning your beliefs, Castiel?” She asked.

Cass could feel a knot form in his throat as he was slightly worried. He has come across a lot, but never had he came across an angel he has never known.

“Allow me to show you who I truly am”

She said, touching his forehead as she had shown him glimpse of her true form and everything she has done for centuries since the dawn of time. Once she had shown him, she pulled away and stared at him.

“You…”

She nodded. “I was there to help God created light and darkness” she explained. “I was there to help create the sky and dry lands. The seas and plants. The sun, moon, and stars. I was there for it all.” She told him. “I stood beside him through it all. Until this very moment” she added.

Castiel felt a wave of anger. He pushed her up against the wall, holding her by her blouse. “Why has he abounded us!? Why hasn’t he shown himself to us!?” He yelled. Y/n stared at him, her green eyes soften with peace.

“Without faith there is no God. One must believe in order to please him, because anyone who approaches him must believe that he exists, and that he rewards those who seek him.” She told him.

“Castiel, your time will come when you’ll be able to meet him” she assured. “But as of now, you have a mission here on earth” she told him. “And I’ve been sent here to help you.”

Cass couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but she had restored his hope. He let go of her and backed away as he looked anywhere but her eyes. “I’m sorry… it’s just-” “Don’t apologize, Castiel. It’s all forgiven” she smiled.

“Now, would you kindly show me around? My stay on earth is extended and I’ve heard you’ve adapted well here” she said. Cass smiled a little, “Well I can introduce you to my friends and show you what it means to be a hunter”

Cass was slowly, but surely growing a connection with the arcángel. And with time, he’d grow feelings he never thought would be possible.

A/n: hii, I normally post on Wattpad, but it seems like I’m getting a lot more attention on here. However, if you’d love to head over to Wattpad, my username is lydia29_ . Hope you enjoyed this oneshot. Also, if you know the reference to her powers, you’re a true one.

#supernatural #castiel #arcangeles #sam winchester x you #castiel x you #destiel #sam and dean #sam winchester x reader #castiel x reader #dean x reader #cas #the winchesters #gif

65 notes · View notes

whumpasaurus101 · 11 months ago

Text

Chapter Ten

Ohhhh the whump in this- there is quite a lot teehee. Enjoy me rising from my hybernation of 2 months!

---

The chair let out a quiet groan as Cass readjusted himself in his seat, eyes staring plainly at the table which Martyn sat opposite him. They had stayed like this for a while. Not a single sound. Cass wasn't going to give Martyn shit. He tried to keep his mind quiet. Keeping himself away from the situation away from his head. His team was going to look at him for what they should do next. But he didn't know. What they could do.

His eyes desperately scanned the room, searching for something- anything he could use as a weapon. Oh, who was he kidding?? They were doomed.

“So, tell me, Cass, why did you lot decide to come in and ruin my soiree?”

Cass clenched his jaw, his eyes still moving. He looked to the guard who stood at the door, rifle in hand held across his chest. Maybe if he caused a distraction he could snatch it and-

Cass yelped out as Martyn slammed his fist against the metal table, the loud sound echoing through the room, cutting crisp through his thoughts, “I asked a goddamn question. All your team has given me silence and I’m really getting tired of this, sweetheart.”

Cass grimaced at the name, shifting once more in his chair as he cautiously studied the man before him. The top half of hair that wasn’t buzzed was swept up neatly into a ponytail.

“Do you use gel in your hair?”

Martyn had to do a double take, his face slightly screwed up in confusion, “I beg your pardon?”

“Your hair, does it have gel in it?”

“My- I- you what?”

“You said all you was getting was silence, I’m filling that silence.”

Martyn huffed out a sigh of disapproval, “It’s ‘were’, darling, ‘all you were getting’.”

Cass couldn't help but crack a smile, letting out a slight laugh, “I’m tied down to a fucking chair in a goddamn interrogation, I think my grammar is the last of my worries.”

Martyn held back a smile, readjusting his tie as he cleared his throat, “I like my things to be perfect-”

“Yeah yeah, hold up, I am not one of your.. things..” Cass spat in disgust. Martyn hummed in amusement, “Cute of you to think you can make decisions now. I’ve got you, Cass Brady.”

Cass tensed, “H-how- I-”

“I have my sources,” Martyn grinned, crossing his arms with a smirk, “Luckily, before you tried your pathetic attempt to save dear Niko, you gave my men and I just about enough time to go do some… research.”

Cass could feel his stomach drop to the ground. What the hell happened? All the years it had taken Cass to remove everyone's identity from any records so they were untraceable. Welp, apparently not.

“The Outlanders,” Martyn hummed, “A bit… whats the word…. Cliche, no?”

Cass set his jaw, glaring at the captor before him, “I was fifteen when I came up with it.”

“No need to get so defensive!” Martyn smirked, “It's quite cute actually.”

Cass’ fists clenched behind his chair, knotted in a rough rope as he felt anger bubble and burn in his chest, “What do you want?” He demanded.

“I want answers, Cass.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Cass spat, his eyes hardening, “I'm not telling you shit.”

Martyn folded his arms with a hum as he leaned back in his chair, “Oh really? Well, Mr Brady, I have something that just might change your mind.”

Cass’ blood turned cold as he saw the scene unravel before him. The door of the room opened and in walked a guard, dragging in a bloodied and bruised figure. Cass had to swallow down his own bile as he saw the face of the person, Cass.

“You see, in my research, I thought my men had made a mistake mistake with the matching last names- but as we dug deeper I knew a little,,, persuasion from your brother might do the trick!”

“D-d’nt te-tell hi-” Niko rasped, a mixture of blood and sweat dripping from his hair as his head hung low. He didn't have enough energy to lift it. God, if he had learnt one thing, it was that those guards were not as weak as they may seem.

“Let him go!” Casss roared, suddenly thrashing against the restraints.

“There we go, a bit of fire! Now, do tell me, why did you come uninvited to my party?”

“We-we honestly were just plus ones who-”

Cass was cut off by the gut wrenching sound of a fist colliding with skin. He watched in horror as his own brother collapsed to the ground with a cry.

Anger took over Cass, “Let him go.” His voice slightly shook but he didn't give a damn, he blinked furiously as he tried to hold back tears.

You know what you need to do in order to save him.”

“Bullshit!” Cass growled but that only drew another punch towards Niko. “I’m going to murder you, you son of a bitch!” Cass roared.

Martyn stalked closer in a few strides, snatching Cass by the jaw and yanking him so they were face to face, “Listen here you bitch-lipped son of a whore-” Cass flinched, his heart freezing in utter shock as he stared at Martyn- “Every single word that comes out of your mouth that isn't what I want, gets your brother one step further to his own fucking death.”

Cass stared up at Martyn in horror, his mouth slightly opened as his chest heaved with pants. What kind of leader was he- yelling and cursing? The first thing he told his gang was to never make things personal and always remain calm. God- god his brother, he had brought Niko into this goddamn life.

“I-”

Cass took a sharp inhale before letting the breath out, he watched as Martyn lifted a hand, getting the guard to halt.

“There was… a target at your party… a target that we- well… we’ve been looking for for a while now…” Martyn’s eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms, “And this…target, it doesn't happen to be me, no?”

Cass’s eyes blow wide, “No! No not at all! I don't even know who you are!”

A shiver ran up his spine as the room filled with Martyn’s chuckle filled the room- then it dropped to utter silence and his smile fell. In a matter of seconds a hand wrapped around his throat.

“Let me get something clear, Cassius, I really don't like liars. So if someone lies to my face-” His hand tightened and Cass swore he saw stars- “Somebody gets hurt.”

Cass tried to scream as he heard the cry of his brother. Martyn forced his head to look at his brother being beaten relentlessly. But he couldn't make a noise, he couldn't move, He couldn't save his brother. So what use was he to his own team? ---

Taglist: @blood-enthusiast @deckofaces @sleepy-dog-boy @whumpatize-me-captain @a-n-j-a-maria @sparrowsage @theelvishcowgirl @sorry-i-spaced @juniperspring @cherrychupachup @morning-star-whump @thelazywitchphotographer @kixngiggles @auroragehenna @fraugustends @jupiter-lemaris @wishiwaskidnapped @books-are-everything @unforgivenn @bloodyandfrightened @dutifullykrispyland @whumpwhittler @plantixst @whump-queen @aryox

lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3

My patreon Buy me a coffee? <3

#niko #martyn #cass #team whump #interrogation #multiple whumpers #whump #whumpee #whump drabble #whumper #whumpblr #whump community #whump writing #intimate whumper #whump series #lee wrote something :o

49 notes · View notes

bubybubsters · 2 years ago

Text

Love of My Life part 3 (Azriel x reader)

a/n: Sorry for the big delay, I have no good excuse. Still winging it mostly, hope you enjoy, please don’t murder me.

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist

⚠️: angst, weapons, death, think that’s it

After you told your friends what happened, Nesta made some very rude remarks that brought a smile to your face and Mor winnowed away, likely to go punch Azriel. But your high lady helped the most, she knelt beside you and said, “I’m sorry y/n but I think Azriel was acting without thinking and didn’t mean to hurt you. Give him some time and he’ll be begging for forgiveness. Make him stew over it, spend the week out here, with us, try to enjoy the present instead of focusing on the past.” Feyre gave you a sad smile and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Mor returned with a bag of your favorite foods and you couldn’t help but notice that her knuckles were very red. You smiled at them, your friends, your family, and you decided yes, you could enjoy a week with them and forget about your troubles.

*****

Azriel's POV

Azriel sat in the chair in front of Rhys and for the billionth time that day he regretted his decisions from the previous night.

What had he done?! Kissing Elain then going and kissing y/n? Then saying those words?

his brothers voice pulled him from his thoughts and he tried to pay attention to his high lord. “I’m giving you the week off,” he raised a hand as Az opened his mouth to speak, “you need it, reflect on your decisions, choose which lady you want and hope they forgive you. Feyre says they’re taking a girls week off so y/n won’t be around but Elain is still here if you wish to talk with her. You fucked up Az, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make it right.”

Suddenly Cassian barged in and started yelling so fast at Azriel, neither him nor Rhys had any idea what Cass was saying.

But what Cassian was saying suddenly didn’t matter as all three illyrians suddenly felt a panicked tug on their mating bonds. Azriel stumbled as y/n’s side of the bond opened and panic, pain, and pure determination flooded his side of the bond.

Rhys grabbed both their hands and winnowed them to the spot Feyre had told him the girls were at. Azriel took in the scene and panic flooded his senses as he vaguely wondered what happened to the wards he knew Mor put up to keep them safe whenever they camped.

*****

Y/N's POV

As you girls hiked back to the camp after a tiring, long hike you talked about many things. Everything but the subject of males, you were really starting to feel better and couldn’t help but smile as Nesta demanded the two of you switch so you were last and she could talk to Gwyn.

Feyre glanced back from the front, a lovely smile on her face as she told Emerie about her time in the human world, but her smile fell and a panicked expression crossed her face as she looked at something behind you.

Everyone glanced back. Everyone saw as a large, hideously colorful creature raised his paw and sliced your left shoulder, right by your heart. You gasped and fell into Nesta’s arms.

A spike of adrenaline rushed through you and you pulled out the dagger strapped to your thigh and stepped forward to engage the beast. You used the skills Rhys had taught you to create an impenetrable shield between you and your family. You looked up at the creature and your first thought was, at least the thing that kills me is as beautiful as me. The beast lunged and you parried, faking a swing then stabbing it in the side. It growled and you sent a bit of your power to distract it as you stabbed again and again. But you didn’t see the tail, it swept around and knocked you into your own barrier. You gasped opening the mating bond, sending panic, pain and your determination to keep your family safe. Feyre pounded on the barrier and you let it down, clutching your side where the beasts tail hit. Your friends swooped in, taking down two other beasts you hadn’t even noticed. Feyre came to your side, trying to heal you, she gave you her blood, but you knew it would work too slowly. She stepped back as Azriel came through, he tugged on the bond, lips moving but you heard none of it.

“I love you Azriel, I always have and always will. Even if you stop I never will. You’re mine and I am yours, I love you.”

Azriel picked you up and winnowed you to the house, but you knew it would be too late. You smiled at his tear streaked face as the darkness swooped in.

*****

Azriel

Azriel heard your words over and over again as Madja looked up at him and shook her head. No. This couldn’t be happening, just as he found his mate, she'd died.

Madja spoke, “im sorry but I can’t save her, there is a poison in her wounds that I have never seen before. I don’t know the way to fix it, and it’s already made its way to her heart.”

Azriel fell to his knees and let out a guttural scream as he pulled on that bond one last time. A soft, gentle pull came back and hope kindled, but the bond was gone. Y/n was gone. His mate was gone.

“I love you too.”

a/n: please don’t kill me. I have no regrets but comments are appreciated

TAGLIST

@glaciuswduo @alexboshallex @wannabewolf @moonfawnx

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #fanfic #azriel #acowar #Az #i suck at writing #love of my life #bubybubsters #sorry guys

120 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 1 year ago

Text

It hurt.

“So, Mr Tracy, on a scale of one to ten how would you rate the pain you are in if ten is the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

The worst pain? Hmm. He turned to Scott who was staring at him with worried eyes. “Well, it’s bad, but it certainly doesn’t rate up with the worst. Not like the time I broke my leg and you had to reset it halfway up K2.”

“God, I hope not. You screamed enough to cause an avalanche two mountains over.”

“Well, you held my leg wrong. I told you that.”

“Yeah, I’ll try to do better next time.”

Virgil just glared at him, not game to say there wouldn’t be a next time.

The doctor standing next to his bed was being extremely patient. “Let’s mark that at ten and work backwards.”

“Okay.”

Virgil focussed on his stomach and tried not to groan aloud.

“It’s not as bad as the elevator that fell on me. That ached for ages. This is different.”

Scott straightened. “What elevator?”

Oh shit. “Um, nothing to worry about.”

“What elevator?” Blue eyes glared at him.

“The hammer. It is kind of like the time Gordon hit my hand with a hammer.” God, that had hurt. For a bit there he had thought his brother had broken half the bones in his hand and his piano playing days were over. On second thoughts. “No, that was at least a five. This isn’t quite up there.”

Scott’s eyes were promising pertinent questions later. “Then what about the bruising you got from catching that ballooning guy and falling twenty metres into your ‘bird?”

“Nah, are you kidding me? I walked that off within a few minutes. Barely a one.”

“Then what about the concrete that fell on your leg and arm on that last mission with Cass?”

Virgil frowned. “You know about that?”

“Of course, I know about that, you were limping for a week afterwards.” Scott’s lips quirked a little. “And besides I know a little ‘bird in orbit who tells me all sorts of things.”

Virgil grunted and was loudly reminded of why he was in the hospital in the first place. Ow. “No, that was nothing. This is something.”

“Then what about the building that fell on you in Pakistan? You had a concrete beam land on your belly. How does that compare?”

Virgil frowned. “Hmm, close, could be a four. Though now I’m thinking of that time we had to rescue those kids from that massive rollercoaster in Moscow. You know, when my safety line slipped and I dislocated my shoulder.” He frowned. “Though come to think of it, when you put it back in was pretty close to the broken leg incident. You know how to cause pain.”

“Hey, you were the one who demanded I do it. You watch too many action movies.”

“I watch too many action movies?! The only action movies I see are the ones I watch with you.”

“You said you enjoyed them.”

“I enjoy them because I’m watching them with you. Why else would I watch them?”

“Because they are fun?”

Another grunt, another wince. “Okay, okay, I’m going to go with a five now. This is definitely heading into hammer hitting the hand territory.” He looked up at the young female doctor who was attending them in Auckland Hospital’s emergency department. She was staring at both of them a little warily. “Doc?”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “So the pain in your stomach is equal to that of getting your hand hit with a hammer.”

“Yeah, and it is slowly getting worse-“

“Virgil?” A familiar voice interrupted him and he turned to catch sight of an equally familiar face. Uh, oh.

“Jimmy? Uh, hi.”

The older doctor straightened his stethoscope and frowned. “What are you doing here…?” His eyes landed on Virgil’s arm clutching his stomach. “Oh, you didn’t.”

“I had to.” So he was defensive, big deal.

Jimmy turned to the young woman attending them. “Josephine, I’ll take the Tracys on my slate, if it is okay with you. I know exactly what is wrong with this one. Any of the other brothers reporting symptoms?”

Scott answered. “No, none of us were that stupid.” Blue eyes were again glaring at Virgil.

“If I may so ask, what is the diagnosis, Doctor Keene?” The young doctor was looking at him strangely.

Jimmy sighed and Virgil blushed.

“Mr Tracy here, loves his grandmother so much, he is willing to put his life on the line for her. Despite having been warned multiple times before.”

“She does her best.” Virgil had to defend Grandma.

“Virgil, her chilli is listed by the Poisons Information Bureau. You shouldn’t eat it. Kill a pot plant or two like your brothers.”

“I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Well, you’ve likely hurt your stomach lining instead.” Jimmy turned to grab a nurse. “See to it that Mr Tracy receives a full digestive tract examination and if necessary, schedule a flush.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Um…”

Jimmy arched an eyebrow. “You were warned last time.”

Virgil groaned and sank into the bed.

His brother’s hand landed on his arm and squeezed gently.

“This sucks.” Virgil shifted and his stomach yelled at him. “I’m upping this to a six. Suspension bridge cable across the back.”

“Ow.” Scott winced.

“I was wearing the exo-suit, don’t worry.” Virgil stared down at his hands. “Busted it though.”

Quiet. “Maybe we should give it its own number. Say six point five. Right between suspension bridge cable and that acid that ate our uniforms that time. I still have scars from that.”

Virgil frowned. “Actually yeah, that sounds about right. Six point five.”

“And don’t eat Grandma’s chilli again.”

“Okay. I’ve learned my lesson, I think.” Another groan and he clutched his stomach.

“Hey, doc.” He waved his hand in the direction of both the doctors having an earnest discussion, no doubt at his expense. “Definitely a six point five.”

“Grandma’s chilli is six point five.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #nuttyfic reblog

43 notes · View notes

gwynniethenymph · 5 months ago

Text

soo, hi everyone, @cynthiesjmxazrielslover and @morningstarprints (I'm tagging you because you seem super excited)! I'm here with

Engravings of Your Oceans

Chapter One

"I think you should burn that fluffy hair of hers."

Gwyn could only stop mid-squat and stare at the vicious glint in Nesta's eyes while Emerie threw her head back and barked a laugh.

"I fully support it. It's either this, or you could take those expensive scissors in the library and stick them down her throat," Emerie suggested, smirking at Gwyn's amused huff.

"Or, perhaps, you both could search for therapy," Gwyn replied playfully, though there was a hint of seriousness in her voice.

"You really want me to end up in the psych ward, don't you?" Nesta narrowed her eyes at Gwyn. "Besides, I don't need therapy when I can punch Cassian."

The oldest Archeron sister was a few weeks away from marrying Emerie's brother, Cassian Illyrian, and Gwyn couldn't be happier for her.

"Aaand," Nesta continued, "you could punch Merril as a form of therapy!" Gwyn couldn't stop her giggle this time, even when she looked at Nesta in amused reproach.

"She's just... being Merril. I should have expected it."

Merril had been her advisor for the last year, and while she was a brutal, wicked, overcritical, perfectionist, picky witch, she was still brilliant—even when she forced Gwyn to reformulate her final thesis for a second time.

Although Clotho said the research was, quote, "innovative, cunning, perfectly written and detailed," Gwyn had to admit it lacked something—the very thing that had made her start her doctorate in the first place. It lacked the... excitement she’d felt at the beginning. But there was no time to dwell on that, as Cassian shouted at her from across the gym to stop gossiping and "squat all the way down."

Squatting "all the way down" as demanded, Gwyn stuck her tongue out at him, unable to flip him off with the barbell weighing down her shoulders. Each squat was more and more difficult with the additional weight Cass had suggested, and by the end of her set she laid out on the floor, completely spent. Nesta giggled, "Come on, get up. You still need to stretch and cool down, or Cassian will never let you leave."

They talked about nothing special while stretching, but Gwyn was already feeling that ugly thing inside her chest prickle when Emerie, Nes, and Cass said their goodbyes and took off. None of them would be alone tonight, Emerie going home to her girlfriend and the love-hate birds going together to their apartment, Gwyn thought.

Except, of course, for her.

She would return to her apartment now. She could put on some music, take a shower, maybe even cook something. It would be fine—she repeated to herself. Not silent. Not empty. Not at all.

Or perhaps...

Enjoying the gentle breeze of Velaris' night, she made her way along the sidewalks close to the Sidra, taking in the bustling city around her. The commercial night in the capital of Noctis was loud and alive, and she loved it. Nights were never easy, and a silent city would only make everything worse.

But instead of taking the left corner to her apartment, Gwyn kept walking to the beautiful building in the center, across the Rainbow Bridge. The library only offered quiet whispers and the gentle flip of pages, but she could check on the new history section, find something to improve her damn thesis. Gwyn knew that if Nesta ever found out she spent another night awake, she would never have peace again.

But, for the moment, she wanted only to chase that emerging anxiety away.

So Gwyn headed through the tall wooden doors and made her way across the stacks.

***

“Mother above, you are going to spoil him rotten.”

Rhys watched Nyx’s giggles with a soft smile, his tone light. Azriel chuckled, his gaze fixed on the baby’s tiny fingers grasping at his own.

Feyre came over to Azriel, hovering for a moment, to adjust Nyx’s blanket gently. “Well, someone has to. He’s too adorable not to be spoiled a little.”

Rhysand gave a playful grin. “True. But we might be setting him up for high expectations.”

Azriel relaxed into the armchair, Nyx cooing contentedly in his arms. “Can’t hurt to enjoy the good moments.”

This little moments were, honestly, the best part of his week. It was a daily routine - Gym, work, Nyx. Or rather, passing by to see his family, as Rhys would put. Rhysand leaned back in his chair.

“So, what’s new with you? Anything interesting on the job front?”

Azriel glanced out the window, thinking about the long night ahead. The meeting with his new contractor was... odd, at least. Plus, the unusual request to find a damn ancient sword, with no records whatsoever, got on his nerves. But the money was good and the man's information was trustworthy, so Azriel went along with the case. “Just a contractor asking about an old sword. Seems a bit off.”

Feyre looked up with interest. “Oh? What’s the story there?”

Azriel shrugged.

“Not much to go on. I’m heading to the library tonight to dig into some archives. Thought it might be worth a look.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Heading to the library? And here I was, thinking you couldn't read.”

Azriel rolled his eyes at his brother. “Yeah, it helps to focus. I’ve got some files to go through.”

Feyre offered a warm smile. “Just make sure you take it easy. Don’t burn out.” Sweet, gentle Feyre. She was Rhys' best side, but Azriel couldn't help but find her advice a little bit... useless. He had nothing to do but work, no family of his own to go home to. So he never went easy.

Azriel gave a brief nod. “I’ll be fine.” He played with Nyx for a little while before grabbing his coat and proceeding to say his goodbyes, Rhysand patting him on the shoulder. “Alright then. Let us know if you need anything.”

The drive from Rhys' house to the library was quiet, thoughts lingering too much for Azriel's liking. He barely recorded entering the tall, dark brown doors of the old building or greeting the scholars. But he found himself in front of a rather trembling looking intern, patiently asking for directions.

"Is something about... the Riveri people, I guess? Anything about the Prithyan armory between 2000 BCE and 500 CE, really."

The brunette girl seemed to swallow before answering, and Azriel thought it was probably her first week working there.

"Records about this Era are in the private area, sir. So I'm afraid I can't give you access to those."

Azriel huffed. "Oh, come on. Don't you know who I am?" He passed his commercial card swiftly to her, along with a few bucks, of course. The girl - Lille, her name tag said - widened her eyes before giving him a court nod. Azriel smirked at her.

She led him to the backs of the library, quickly pressing her card to grant him access, before turning and placing a delicate finger on his chest. "So, if you need any help inside there..." She bit her lip and, Azriel must confess, he was surprised. She seemed way too young and skittish to even know the seductive tone in her next words "I'll be here."

Deciding the better way to proceed was ignoring her, he simply entered the private area and closed the door before she could enter. Silly girl. Azriel took a deep breath before checking his surroundings and concluding that he was probably alone.

It took what could have been hours or minutes to find something merely related to those Riveri folks his contractor mentioned. Running his fingers on the books of the "unknown/ unrecorded civilizations" stack, he stopped in front of a random file, seemingly forgotten.

"Riveri Archery", the blue archive said. So he tried to pull it out but, for some reason, it didn't come out of the stacks. So he pulled again. This time, something pulled back and, startled, Azriel pulled harder.

A few books fell on the floor, dust hovering the air, and revealing a hand connect to the file his hand was connected with. And that hand led to an pale, graceful and frecked arm.

Lifting his eyes, Azriel was met with the teal of oceans and creased auburn brows.

Well, he should have seen it coming, honestly.

"Hello, Berdara."

2 notes · View notes

cassiopeiagarcia · 2 years ago

Text

Alice in Wonderland AU based on these posts by @somatheking and @prosopagn0sis ♡ For @cheshire-shuntaro, in light of the event hosted by @all-mad-hare! Hope you will like it.

Crowns. Thrones. Kings. Queens.

'The whole notion is shit.' Cass declared, with a crooked grin, her posture seemingly calm, her eyes telling a different story, as they darted nervously around the other person's face. 'Tell it to me. In other worlds, I've been the Queen.'

She clicked her tongue, stretched her neck. First to one side, then to the other, until she heard the cracking. She enjoyed the sound much more than the feeling of release; it reminded her of fireworks, of time passing, of perfectly manicured nails tapping on a table while they drank tea... Her smile grew even bigger, almost shark-like, full of teeth, like that permanently present on her companion. Her expression turned voracious. 'Imagine!' Cass let out a sharp laugh, that ended abruptly. 'Can you think of a worse choice?'

She changed posture. Until that moment, she had been rocking the chair she had been sitting on onto its back legs, dangerously close to being tipped over at any second. Now, she jumped out of it, standing on her own two feet. She circled around the table, like a wild animal stalking its prey, licking her lips, squinting her eyes, becoming closer and closer, until only centimeters separated her from the Cheshire Cat. She didn't like him, that one. Didn't like the way his eyes examined her, as if he knew a secret she didn't, as if he could see what was behind her shell. The way the air seemed to curve and twist and turn around him, as if he demanded respect.

'Some people just aren't born for doing good.' Fingers stained with yellow paint leaving their trail on the tablecloth, still wet, from giving her siblings a little makeover. She couldn't wait for Cheshire to see them. Maybe that'd erase the smug look in his face. They were so beautiful, her brother and sister. She was so happy she would stay with them, forever. 'And I'm not talking about you, of course.'

A painful sting on her cheeks now. The lavender she had placed all around was not enough to mask the rotting smell coming from the corps... from Andro and Hércules. She, actually, really disliked the smell. Because it awoke something in her, a name. Soma? A spark of sadness, shining in those dark eyes of hers, like wells without a bottom, but quickly dismissed with an exaggerated wave of hand.

'Not talking about me, either.' She clarified, leaning forward, so close to the man's face he probably could feel her warm breath on his skin, reeking of tea and pastries and death. 'Talking about the Red Queen, of course. She killed them, everyone I loved. But... it is to be expected, isn't it? She's a wolf.' Cass lifted her head and howled. At the moon? No, the sun was shining bright above them. It was a nice, hot, summer day. But it had been long since the young woman had felt any warmth, her skin prickly and cold, her heart frozen ever since they died. 'I read it in a book one time... You don’t put a wolf amongst your sheep then cry when you find one eaten, do you?'

But she had cried. She had cried for ages, losing her sanity slowly, a little bit more with every single tear. With every new stain on her white dress, which was now broken, ripped at the seams, dirty, the miasma of a graveyard impregnating the fabric.

It hadn't always been like that.

It had been beautiful, once. Pure white, with long satin sleeves, flowy skirts, pearls and golden threads intertwined, diamonds here and there, sparkling and flashing when the light hit them. A tall neck, to keep some semblance of decency and modesty, two things she hadn't had when she had courted with the Red Queen's husband.

Now, that first ever stain, from Soma's third beheading, brown, as was the color of old blood, was almost imperceptible. There were too many others, every single one of them a symbol of her loss of mental health, lucidity slipping through her fingers like sand. She hadn't changed her clothes ever since, and it showed.

'You're a kitten, though.' She eyed him up and down, to make sure. Was it a little feline what was in front of her, or a blonde human dressed in white with chocolate-colored eyes? 'I don't really know how the food chain works between you two… What do cats eat, other than little mice?'

First, Soma. Then, Andro. Then, Hércules. Cass couldn't have saved the former, too far gone now for her to reach, she too changed for him to love. So she made sure to keep the other two by her side. Forever... and always.

'You want to see them, don't you?'

She didn't wait for a reply.

She clapped, and the once magnificent doors of the room opened at the order she hadn't given. Andro and Hércules came in... or what was left of them. In Andro's case, only her torso and wobbling head, the neck unable to withstand its weight, long, black, wavy hair falling down her back. As beautiful as always, even if she was missing an eye, even if she had little skin left and dirty yellow bones started to show. Even if her mouth opened, and a worm or a beetle or both of them crawled out from inside. They just wanted to say hello.

Hércules... there was more of him, but he was bloated beyond recognition, a greenish tint to him, flies buzzing all around. She had found the man after the battle, his body laying with many others in a body of water that had been more corpse than river by that point. But he still had his rings, his slutty earring, his curls. And that was enough for Cass to still consider him her little brother.

Both of their bodies had corroded, brassy mechanical parts inserted to them and directed themselves using wheels. Steam was constantly coming out of them, making it more difficult to actually see what they looked like which was... all the better. Because, maybe, just maybe, if she could take a good look at them, Cass would snap out of it and realize what she had done. The monster she had become. Or... was she too far gone?

'My precious sister. My beloved brother.' Cass moved towards them. She appeared to glide, rather than taking steps, exaggeratedly slow, dancing with an invisible partner. Soma's ghost, maybe, still haunting the walls of the palace. She laughed when she was by their side, half-choking on her own spit, not bothered by the stench, because it was coming from her also. She kissed their cheeks, both of them, adoringly, caressing their faces with eyes wet with tears, looking at them like one would at an old love they never got over.

'You really are mad.' Had those words left Cheshire's smile or had she imagined them? The man-cat or, siteoppo, cat-man, was still looking at her from his chair, surprisingly not having turned invisible... yet. Not floating around the room, either. Just waiting to see how the situation developed. What was he waiting for? RUN!, she wanted to scream.

'Am I?' She couldn't even take offence. 'They call me now... the Mad Hatter, don't they?' A new nickname, since she had changed her glistening golden crown for a self-made black funeral hat with a widow veil the moment he had died. 'So I guess I am. But there's worse things out there than not being completely sane. You're not either, don't even pretend. Weren't you who said that we were all mad here? And, after all, I'm not the one who killed them, am I? I'm not the one who is going to kill you, either. They are.'

Her siblings' hands, cold. Like winter, like a frozen lake, ice creaking beneath her pretty little feet, thinner each passing moment. She couldn't grab them as tightly as she would have liked, afraid their fingers would fall off, the flesh already peeling off of them.

'Don't get me wrong, I'll give the order. But it was your fault, really.' A roll of the eyes, a little shrug of the shoulders. So much like the old Cass, it would have hurt her to see it on a reflection. Luckily, she had destroyed all the mirrors in the palace, some of the smaller shattered pieces still dug into her pale skin. Making her suffer, but reminding her she was still alive. Unlike... no, what was she saying? Andro and Hércules were alive. They were standing right beside her. But where was... where was Soma? However, she could see herself in Cheshire's brown eyes. And she hated it.

A hand pressed to her chest, so much agony all of a sudden she would have thought she was dying. A growl forming at the back of her throat. She grabbed her skirts, lifted them up, and took lurching, rapid steps towards her guest, her face a mask of fury. 'It was your fault... it was your fault!' She hissed and screamed, using her index finger to stab at his chest, hard, having climbed over the table in order to do so. Everything was now on the floor ― the teacups, the teapot, the tea. The chocolate and vanilla buns, the little sandwiches, full of maggots.

She grabbed at her tangled strawberry blonde curls and yanked. 'You came here to speak with me! Now, you are dying. It's as simple as that... she has you in her radar, she does. She'll kill you.' Her arms were back at her sides, her head tilted towards one shoulder. She lifted a tremorous hand, and touched her companion's face, sweetly, cautious, afraid they would slap her hand off, although that wasn't the Cheshire she knew... she had known him, before, hadn't she? She was so sorry for him, so sorry. Poor kitten. 'It's better to be killed by Andro... or by Hércules... It's just better.' She nodded a few times, convinced of what she was saying. She lowered herself from the table, putting some distance between her and him. She was already dirty enough, she didn't want to make it any worse, just in case Soma came to visit. She wanted to look pretty for him. Because... he should be here soon, shouldn't he? Any minute, now.

'It's an act of love, really. Take it as one.'

But the Cheshire Cat knew nothing about love. Just a person who appeared and disappeared at will, who liked to leave others perplexed with their conversational skills and somewhat amusing comebacks. Leaving nothing but a grin behind. Making his head levitate around the room. Mischievous, and sarcastic.

But not in love.

No, not in love.

#cheshire-shuntaro #all-mad-hare

13 notes · View notes

mollsrdegreat · 1 year ago

Text

Let Me Help You

Rottmnt Fanfiction by Mollsr

🧪Donnie and April as Besties🎶

Hi! This is my first online contribution for the Rottmnt fandom based on the amazing art of @meggalice of Donnie and April dancing as besties! It just absolutely struck a chord inside my brain and the rot insued haha. Thank you for the inspiration along with Cass Future AU!!

This fanfic has two parts one present, maybe during the show and one near the beginning of the Apocalypse in the future 😊

Let the softness, angst and projection begin!

Let Me Help You

April slouched into the lab, falling into a beanbag without saying a word. Normally, Donnie wouldn't have even have stopped his work as her loud entrance was made. Contrastly, however, the silent entrance demanded his gaze. He turned in his chair.

Sat, melted into the bean bag, April scrolled through the phone that he had designed for her; her hood pulled tight over the usually smiling face and bushy hair. "Hey April," Donnie began timidly. "Anything good on there?" His friend's eyes didn't move from her phone. She stopped scrolling, sliding the phone into her jacket pocket, followed by her hands. The bean bag threatened to consume her whole at this point. A mutter came from inside the folds of the seat, telling Donnie April was alive at least, "No, not really.".

"Anything… exciting happening in that building they call a school?" Donnie wasn't sure how to approach this meak April. The lack of energy that was always brought to his lab by her worried him. He hadn't realised how much he relied on her loud and joyful presence and how routine it had become until it was missing.

A sigh emanated from the void, "It's so hard. Everything is so hard all the time. I don't even have time to breathe anymore. I know it's nearing the end but it doesn't need to be this difficult at every given moment, y'know? Well, I guess you wouldn't. You're a genius." April gave a self pitying laugh.

Donnie knew he wanted to help his best friend but, he wasn't sure how. "I dunno," he began. "I know what it's like to be mentally drained, even with my big, beautiful brain." His attempt to lighten the mood resulted in a small laugh from the bean bag. Still, in the barely visible position, April met Donnie's eyes, just as they moved to the ground. "I get sucked into my work all the time. Sometimes so much I forget there's a world around me. My brothers aren't the best at pulling me out of my fixations, not that I let them either. I know they worry about how intense I get. Most of the time I crash before I realise how drained I actually am."

April emerged from her void, readjusting herself in the beanbag and removing her hood. "When that happens," Donnie stood, and walked towards the lab door. He pressed a button, left of the door causing a metal door to descend from the ceiling, casting the lab into darkness. Another button pressed illuminated fairy lights, trimming the walls atop high cabinets and shelves winding between bottles, jars and machines. The lights granted a soft glow to the whole room.

Staring at the glowing lights, April was amazed by the calm they caused to wash through her. "I turn on these lights," Donnie continued as he scrolled through his phone. "And play music." Soft music, filled with soft words took over the room, intensifying the feeling of detached calmness. Donnie approached April's corner and lay down on the floor next to her. "My brothers don't know I do this. Maybe I should tell them. I know it'd ease their minds." He closed his eyes. "I just enjoy having something only I know about." Opening his eyes, he turned his head to face April, who peered down at him softly. "I'm happy to share this with you though. If you want to that is."

Standing up, and walking over, April lay down opposite to Donnie so that both their eyes were in line with each other. The pair glanced up at the lights surrounding them, becoming one with the gentle music. "Thanks Dee. Thanks for sharing this with me." April smiled.

They lay, for perhaps hours before Donnie spoke, "Promise me something April. I've crashed too many times. I don't want you to go through that. I can't look after myself most of the time, but at least… promise to let me look after you. Come to me anytime you need to. I'll always be here for you." April's smile grew as she sat up, crossed legged.

"Then let's both make a promise." Donnie sat up, matching April's crossed legs, a curious look on his face. "If you need to chill, or," Her look grew stern, "I tell you to," Donnie gave a nervous but knowing laugh. "Then we will. Promise to let me, look after you." Her stern look eased into a friendly one, "Ok." Donnie smiled. "I promise." April returned the grin adding, "I do have one suggestion though." Standing up, she continued "I know you're not big on touching, let alone dancing but," April's outstretched hand invited Donnie to stand. "Dance with me? Sometimes it's nice to just move your body to the music."

Donnie's eyes moved from his friend's hand to her easeful face. "You don't have to be any good, c'mon" April reassured. For the first time Donnie could remember, he willingly took another person's hand. He'd never so much as poked one of his brothers before but yet, somehow, this felt, natural and safe. April beamed as he stood up, softly smiling, unable to stop staring at his hand, intertwined with another. As April began to guide their bodies back and forth to the music, Donnie observed how bright her face had become in these short hours, and felt his own body become lighter as they continued stepping to the music. April began to spin herself in circles using Donnie's hand, making them both laugh. "Feeling better?" Donnie asked as they switched their music to faster tunes. "Loads. Thanks Tello." "Anytime O'Nell"

…

"April!" The purple, hexagonic shields barring the door to the resistance headquarters came down and the door was flung open. Rushing inside April was swarmed by a heavy and full hug. The perpetrator quickly bolted the door shut once more and primed the shields, using the computer attached to the cave wall, once more. "How have you been?" he asked her enthusiastically, still working on the computer. "I've been good!" April Replied warmly. "Training the new recruits keeps me busy. It's rewarding for sure." As he turned around, April was met with Leo's worn and weathered face. "Doesn't stop me from missing my family though." She admitted with a small smile, which Leo returned. "It's been too long." he agreed.

The two began down the carved corridor. "Sorry to pull you away, but, well" "Leo." April stopped him. "Don't apologise. You know I'm only a call away. Always for you guys. You should have called me straight away." "I know." Leo responded regretfully. "We just, thought we could handle things on our own. We didn't want you to worry." April raised a stern eyebrow causing Leo to add "Stupid I know.".

Arriving at the end of the corridor, the pair were met with a fortressed, metal, garage-like door. "It's gotten to the point where he's completely locked us out." Leo indicated towards a computer with a retinal scanner and keyboard. "None of our logins will work. We don't know what to do." April put a hand to the cold metal, in a whisper saying "Oh, Donnie.". "I think he thought we were gonna forcibly drag him from the lab. I'm still considering it." April elbowed his immense arm. "Sorry. I just," Leo's eyes fixed on the door. "I've seen him sucked into his work so many times before. But this is… it's something else. It's a different kind of obsession." He looked down at April, who met his gaze. "You were the only one who could ever get through to him when he was fixated. The only one of us who could ever touch him. If anyone on this planet; this universe, can pull him out of the abyss, it's you April." He gave a pained smile. A smile, which made April hug him as tight as she could. Leo returned the hug. "Tell the others not to worry." April reassured. "I'll get our Donnie back." Pulling away, April noticed Leo's smile seemed less somber.

"Here's the override key for the door." Leo handed her a large, thick, metal key. "He gave it to his assistant when they built the lab. We didn't want to use it until we at least tried everything else first." With a slightly hopeful look, Leo smiled and turned back down the corridor, taking one of the branching tunnels to the left. A deep breath, and April stuck the key into the center of the metal door where a keyhole resided. Donnie's robotic voice chimed out "Override activated." The door ascended into the ceiling.

April moved into the lab, The door descending behind her. The darkness of the caverness lab was haunted by a dull purple glow. Papers, blueprints, half finished machinery and lose parts scattered the desks, floors and walls. The disorganisation affronted April. It was something Donnie could never stand in his workplace. Coffee stains were visible on many of the papers on the desks. The source of the purple glow, a purple screen the height and breadth of the cave wall attracted April's attention. "That stupid key." A mutter entered the space. At the base of the screen, "Get out Leo. I'm fine. Make sure you tell that assistant she's fired." Donnie stood, staring ahead at his screen, ninpo keyboards at his fingertips, where he typed furiously.

"Don't even-" "Dee. It's me." Donnie froze, rigid. The ninpo keyboards buzzed and glitched, before evaporating. Whatever words he had planned on using to bash Leo were lost. His head turned, slowly to his side. Donnie wasn't wearing his purple mask. His eyes were sunken, worn and bloodshot. His scaly skin was pale and his markings faded, despite having just used his ninpo. April approached her brother, her closest friend step by step. "Donnie, what have you been doing? You've locked everyone out." Indicating the door, she added "Literally."

Donnie's neck turned to face forward. He focused down at his hands, which only now fell from their typing positions. He gazed up at the oversized screen, filled with information, equations and diagrams. "I-I need to keep them safe." The broken voice stuttered under the weight of it's owner's task. 'Leo was right.' April thought. She too, more so than the others had seen Donnie in his worst times. But this was a new depth, one she had never seen.

April reached Donnie's side. He had grown even more since last they met, but somehow, had also withered. Looking at the screen, April noticed a map, indicating each resistance hideout many of which, covered by a red 'X'. "They keep finding us." Donnie began. April stared up at her exhausted brother not sure what to make of him. "They keep seeing through my designs. Getting smarter. I need to keep getting smarter. I need to keep everyone; us safe. If they get to us," Donnie for the first time, looked at April. Meeting his eyes, April was overwhelmed by the fear, the dread, the mania she could see etched into her most dear friend's face. "Our family, I could never forgive myself."

Without warning Donnie's knees buckled. Leaving his head level with April's. The tears hiding just on the edge of April's eyes poured out. April moved to pull Donnie's face into her chest, resting her own into his. Slowly, Donnie's body melted into April's, eventually leading the pair into a lying position of the cold stone floor, April never relenting in her grasp. The friend's remained that way for what could have been days.

Eventually breaking the thick silence, "You promised you would call me Dee." April's sad voice caused Donnie to open his eyes. He stared at the ground. "I… I lost sight of everything." he admitted. "I think that's putting it lightly." April smirked. Donnie's neck craned to meet April's eyes. "You cared about everyone so much, that you couldn't leave them care for you."

Donnie sat up, crossing his legs. April followed. "You know you've terrified those brothers of ours with worry. I've never seen Leo so shaken." "L-Leo. Oh no. Oh Leo." Donnie held his head in his hands. "I've said so many horrible things. I-I didn't mean to I just… I just". "Hey!" April moved to sit in front of Donnie. She placed her hands on his, softly moving them away from his face. "Look at me." Donnie's head raised, his face contorted with regret. "You know it's ok. They'll forgive you. All they want, all I want, is for you to come back to us. We love you Dee. Always have and always will."

Gently removing her hands from Donnie's as she stood up, April closed her eyes and opened her palms, facing up. Small, green, ninpo infernos were released and danced in the air. The cold cavern seemed to warm, the dull purple quashed by the soft fiery lights. Donnie, mystified by the twirling flames, didn't notice April taking out her phone. Music the two of them had bonded over for many years, in both their worst times, sounded between them. Donnie met April's glassy eyes. Accepting an inviting hand, Donnie stood up.

The two moved close together, swaying side to side, holding each other as if to never let go. A feeling they had both forgotten and needed. April rested her head on Donnie's chest "I'm sorry April. I tried to help so much that I let everyone down." "You could never let me down Dee. We're all just… trying to survive, in any way we can." The pair's sight met once more. "We were never prepared. We could never have known any of this would happen. We're living the impossible just by existing here and now. You, none of us, have anything to be sorry for. We're all going through the same pain. Here. Together. So don't lock us out again ok Tello?" Donnie gave a small smile. Small, and sincere. "Thanks O'Nell. I won't." Behind the overworked and sleep deprived exterior, behind the worn and dry eyes, for the first time, a glint of the Donatello April knew, was found.

#rottmnt #fanfic #fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise april #rottmnt future donnie #rottmnt future april #rise leo #rottmnt future leo #rotmnt #tmnt 2018 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #two asexual besties #writing #writers on tumblr

4 notes · View notes