Do You Believe Me Now? ~series Masterlist

do you believe me now? ~series masterlist

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader navigate all of her firsts

this series is 18+. mdni

please see warnings to each individual part!

part one

part two

part three

part 3.5 (bonus chapter)

part four

part five

part 5.5 (bonus chapter)

part six

part seven

there is no tag list for this series

[[and then I met you || ch. 27]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

Police Arrest Three After Mass Protests in LA County

By C. Grant

Three people were arrested in Pasadena, California yesterday after a crowd gathered to protest the death of Sheila Pom. Police say the three individuals, whose names have not yet been released, appeared to be Enhanceds attempting to agitate the crowd. Witnesses claim one of the individuals was creating sparks with their fingers and threatening to start a fire, while the two others encouraged the behavior. Police have made no comment about these arrests and all questions about the incident have been redirected to a now defunct phone number. 

Sheila Pom was killed in an officer-related shooting two weeks ago after neighbors reported her as a Dangerous Individual under the new Sokovia Accords Act. Pom, 23, worked at her uncle’s auto body shop as a mechanic while also attending online classes to get a degree in Engineering. She was also a telekinetic - someone who can move objects with their mind. 

Pom was known to not be shy about her gifts. Pom was seen frequently lifting cars and trucks within garages without the help of equipment and is rumored to have once righted a tipped over semi-truck. Neighbors became concerned when Pom began using her gifts at home.

“We’d come home, and things would be floating up and down the street,” one neighbor said.

Another claimed Pom was unstable, and when she would become upset, things around her would begin to shake.

“I thought it was an earthquake until my TV hit the ceiling,” a source who lived in the same building Pom told GKTV, “I learned the next day her boyfriend broke up with her.”

Officers were called when Pom refused to return a motorcycle to the ground while working on it in a residential neighborhood. After a brief standoff, officers fired two shots, striking Pom in the head, and killing her. 

Pom’s family claims she was unaware of the officer’s presence, as wireless earbuds were found near her body after. Pom was known to listen to music to block the noise of machines. 

Protests began after the officers involved in the incident were cleared of any wrongdoing. 

----

A full-page ad takes over your screen, and instead of continuing to read the depressing article, you close the tab.

There has been a palpable unrest in the news cycle the past week that is starting to leave you with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You’ve noticed a shift in the general narrative tone and terminology used when discussing people who have superpowers. 

Before Sokovia, before Lagos, before Connecticut, the morning shows would bring on people with amazing gifts and gently joke about them joining the Avengers as they made water fly around the set, but now those same hosts debate if they should be allowed to have the right to privacy. ‘Enhanced Peoples’ has been shortened to just Enhanceds and is now spit out like it is something dirty. 

You don’t know when the conversation stopped centering around heroes and vigilantes and started being about everyday people, but it scares you that the change happened. There seems to be no official power scale about what is deemed ‘dangerous’ and your mind keeps zipping all over the place trying to justify different lines of thinking.

Does Matt fall under the category of Dangerous? 

He is a vigilante, so by default the Accords are directed at him, but is it doubly so? If he was forced to reveal himself to the government, would they require him to wear a tracking device? Or would they try to lock him up?

Could he fight it in court, or would they whisk him away in the middle of the night and you’d never know what happened?

If Matt is deemed Dangerous because of his senses, and not just because he is a vigilante, would Minnie be considered the same?

With how intense and angry everyone is becoming you could see yourself having to take her in to be tested.

To be monitored. 

And she is just a baby. 

You can’t imagine how others must feel - people who are older, who are just trying to live their lives. The girl who was killed was just trying to fix her bike, like millions of other people do every weekend. She wasn’t going to other countries to fight terrorists. She wasn’t trying to use her powers to rule over others. She wasn’t hurting anyone.

But she was different, so they killed her.

“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I need help!”

You’re ripped from your spiraling thoughts and look across the room to where Minnie is sprawled out on the floor. Her Starkpad is in front of her, and she’s set up Pig and Scooby so they are also peering down at the device and you know exactly what she is doing.

It is the same thing she has been doing for a week straight - playing a bootleg Muppet’s math game. 

Since meeting Spider-man, all your little Mouse has wanted to do is learn math. She keeps saying she wants to impress him and make him proud, and you are in no way going to discourage her. Every day has been filled with counting and addition and subtraction and you are a bit amazed she has stayed so focused. 

You are not going to complain at all about it - you are getting time to yourself while she has been glued to Elmo and Kermit. 

You leave your phone on the dining table and head towards your daughter.

“You need help?” you confirm as you crouch beside her. The screen shows a Muppet you don’t recognize, along with various numbers floating around them, and up at the top, the equation that has your little Mouse stumped. 

“I need help!” Minnie repeats as she scrambles up off her belly and into sitting. “I don’t have enough fingers!” 

She holds up both her hands to show you all ten of her itty-bitty fingers and you make a sympathetic noise. 

Mouse has been getting pretty good at using her fingers to help her with addition and subtraction, but on only one hand. She uses the index finger on her right hand to help count by pointing at each finger and hasn’t quite worked out she can use her fingers to point and count. That is okay, though, as you are happy to lend yours to her important cause. 

“Okay, how many fingers do you need?”

You hold out your hands and she instantly begins to manipulate them. 

“This one…this one needs three! One, two, three!” She pushes your thumb and index finger down so the other three remain up, then she pushes down the pinky of the other hand. “And this one is four!”

“So, three and four? What are we doing with three and four?” You ask, trying to not laugh at her determined face.

“We adds them!” She chirps, before starting to jab at your fingers, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven! That’s seven fingers! Mommy, it’s seven! Three plus four is seven!” 

“That’s right, it is seven. Which number is seven?” You direct her back to her game, where she triumphantly picks the correct symbol. The Muppet congratulates her before presenting a new equation. 

Minnie squeals in delight before ripping the device off the ground and shoving it in your face, “I know this one! Mommy! I know this one! It’s three! Mommy! It’s three!” 

You can’t even process what the question is before the screen is out of sight. Your daughter holds her Starkpad above her head, treating it like some war prize as she starts spinning and dancing around the living room. 

“It’s three! It’s three! It’s three!” 

You laugh at her antics, heartwarming at her pureness. How could anyone ever think she’s a danger?

“Are you sure it’s three?” You tease as you watch her. 

She whips around to you, eyes scrunching up into a glare, and barks, “It’s three!”

“Okay, okay, it’s three.”

You push yourself up into standing just as Mouse returns to her spot. She drops her Starkpad to the ground a little harder than you would prefer, but that is why it has a big bulky case. She plops down in front of it and happily smacks the number three that is floating around the screen.

You let yourself watch her for a few seconds, silently bombarding her with all the love you feel for her. You want to wrap her up and live in this bubble forever.

Except, there is one element missing from your perfect moment. You wish there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a chin on your shoulder. You want to lean back against a muscular chest and lose yourself to eternity like that. 

Instead of indulging those thoughts, you tell yourself to stop fantasizing and you make your way back to the kitchen to check on dinner.

Vegetable curry has been simmering on the stove for most of the day. It has been a while since you had the energy to make the dish from scratch, but you had a craving this morning and went all out. You’ve made curry for Minnie before, and she did not complain - though you think that is because her portion was mostly rice and hot dog cuts. You plan to do the same again tonight, and if she wants more sauce, you’ll give it to her. 

You check your seasonings and give everything a stir to make sure nothing gets stuck at the bottom of the pot. The rich aroma tickles your nose, and you are glad you don’t have to wait much longer to treat yourself.

As you debate adding a pinch more salt, you catch Minnie sneaking towards you out of the corner of your eye. Her movements are slow and dramatic, and you pretend you don’t notice her. This ruse works, and you appropriately jump in fear when she suddenly tugs on your shirt.

“Up!” She demands and you oblige, scooping your daughter onto your hip. As soon as she is high enough, she cups her hands around your ear and leans into whisper, “Daddy saids the food smells yummy-yummy.”

She quickly dissolves into giggles, and it is infectious, so you end up smiling. 

Matt hasn’t been over for dinner in a hot minute, and you are hoping to have a nice quiet family night, before he goes out on his Patrol. The plan is to watch a movie after your meal and Minnie has already prepared for this by dragging multiple blankets out to the couch. You just know she is going to demand a cuddle pile, and now that you and Matt are intimate, it isn’t something you are nervous about. 

You just want to have a good time.

“Can you tell Daddy everything is almost ready?” you ask, even though you know Matt can probably hear you just fine. 

Mouse, always eager to be helpful, nods and relays the message directly into your ear. You try to not grimace, and so it won’t happen again, set her down on the ground. 

“Can you plug in your Starkpad so it can sleep for the night?” 

She streaks off to do her newly assigned task, leaving you to start setting the table. When you were at the store, you bought Matt a bottle of beer - a brand you know he likes - and you set it at his designated spot. You’ve grown accustomed to just drinking water and juice, but you don’t want to push that on to him - not when he’s a guest and coming over after a long day of work. 

As you start to make everyone’s plates, you hear the water in the bathroom turn on. You know Minnie knows the routine for getting ready for dinner and you just hope she isn’t trying to wash Scooby’s paws again. You are worried he’ll end up moldy and you aren’t sure what you will do if that happens. You peek into the living room and are relieved to see your daughter’s best friends have been relocated to sitting on the coffee table, facing the television. 

You finish setting everything up just in time, it seems. Minnie runs from the hallway right to the door as you go to wash your own hands, and you rush to get all the soap off so you can help her open the door. 

Matt is standing on the other side, looking handsome as ever in a gray suit. He looks like he’s had a busy day - his hair is windswept, and he is sporting a strong five o’clock shadow. There is a garment bag draped over his arm and his saddle bag looks a little bulkier than usual and you wonder if he ran some errands on his lunch - picking up his dry cleaning and such. 

You barely have time to take in his appearance before Mouse is launching herself at him.

“Daddy!” She shrieks and Matt oh so easily swings her up onto his hip. “Daddy! We’re having vege-tuhble kermies for dinner! I helped make it! I cut up ALL the carrots! By myself!”

“By yourself, huh?” Matt confirms, a bright, warm smile taking up his entire face. “Soon you’ll be making us dinner.”

You step aside so he can come in and help to take his things to hang while Mouse soaks up his attention. 

“No! Mommy makes dinner because…’cause she makes the bestest foods. I just help!”

“You are a very good helper,” you interject, “You keep a very clean workstation. A professional chef would be proud.”

Minnie beams at the praise, then a microsecond later, is wiggling in to be let down. Her feet hit the ground and she takes off running back toward the living room, probably to collect something to show off to her Daddy. 

Matt takes the small break to turn his attention to you. A hand goes to your cheek, and instead of a brief ‘hello’ peck, he kisses you like he wants to turn and pin you to the wall. It catches you off guard, but you easily melt into it. You clutch at the lapel of his suit jacket and try to not moan as he nips at your lips. You open your mouth for him, but being the tease he is, he pulls back just enough to whisper against you.

“Been thinking about that all day.” 

The words send your blood rushing - some north to your cheeks and the rest to your cunt. 

He’d been thinking about you? About wanting to kiss you? Or has he been thinking about more than that - because you must admit, you’ve been thinking about it. You’ve had more than a few thoughts about what you want to do to him the next time you two are alone together and those thoughts were certainly very explicit. 

“Matt…” you totally do not whine out but instead of replying, his grin just turns cocky. He pulls away as Minnie returns to the entryway, and you decide you need a drink of your water. You escape and Mouse starts showing off her latest masterpieces to Matt. 

Food coloring, cotton balls, and popsicle sticks have proven to be a massive hit and Minnie has made a whole collection of things for Matt - there’s butterflies and flowers, a house with clouds, and various abstract pieces. You are sure his office is already filled to the brim with his daughter’s art, and you would not be surprised if he started to hang things from the ceiling when he does run out of room. He seems to treasure every little thing Minnie has given him and it warms your heart so much. You hope that love never runs out. 

Somehow, Matt ushers Minnie back to the dining room while she shoves different papers into his hands and gets her up in her booster seat. 

“I’m going to put all these in my bag, so they don’t get dirty or lost, okay?” He tells Minnie, who nods way too enthusiastically. 

“Keep them clean!”  And then, just like that, she switches from being excited her Daddy is there to being a hungry toddler. She whips around to face you and asks in an almost impatient manner, “Can I has my hot dogs now?”

You give her the go ahead as Matt returns to the table and takes his place. You quickly tell him the placement of everything, including his beer, then quickly add, “If you don’t like it, I have a few different things I could make you. Or we could order something.”

A brief panic runs through you when Matt scoffs. You think you’ve insulted him - having him come all the way to Chelsea to eat a dinner he won’t enjoy and having to find a substitute. 

“I love curry and this smells delicious. I wouldn’t trade it for the world - in fact, I’m hoping some of those leftovers on the stove are for me to take home and lord over Fog tomorrow.”

You flush at his sweetness and mumble out you’ll pack him some to go. This seems to please him, and he starts to dig in. Ever the little parrot, Minnie mimics him by shoveling food into her mouth with a big grin and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“It’s nummy!” Your little one declares, and even if she’s just eating plain rice right now, you’ll take it as a win. You know well she won’t eat what she doesn’t like.

“Speaking of yummy,” Matt starts, slow and deliberate, with his head angled towards you, “I was hoping we could go somewhere yummy together.”

You blink slowly at the statement, rolling it over in your mind and trying to dissect the meaning. Did he want to go somewhere for dessert? Maybe get ice cream or something? “Somewhere yummy…?” 

“Mhm,” he hums, then his smile becomes a bit more sly. Even though you know it isn’t true, you feel like, behind his glasses, he is hungrily looking you up and down, “Somewhere like Uvas.”

The name doesn’t automatically generate anything for you, but after a moment, it dawns on you. Uvas in a Spanish restaurant near Central Park known to be high end and impossible to get into. It’s been in the local tabloids a few times for turning away minor celebrities who don’t meet the dress code. You’re mouth parts slightly in shock.

“What’s Oo-vuhas?” Minnie asks around her fork, her big eyes looking between you and Matt. “Do theys has yummy foods?”

“Oh, they have yummy food,” Matt teases. He then leans forward a bit in his seat and stage whispers to her, “It’s where I want to take Mommy for a date.”

“A date?” Minnie scrunches up her face at the word while your mind is still spinning. 

Matt wants to take you on a date? To Uvas? You have never been anywhere that fancy or expensive as a date. Hell, you’ve never been somewhere that fancy, period. The nicest date you’ve ever been on was Hard Rock Cafe - which says a lot about your dating life.

“A date,” Matt confirms, smug and knowingly scheming. You can hear it in his voice as he tells Minnie, “That is where Mommy and Daddy go and have dinner together as grown-ups.”

Up goes Minnie’s hand into her mouth, but it stays there only a split second. Her eyes get impossibly bigger and filled with wonder, and she whispers, “Like Lady and Tramp?”

“Exactly like Lady and Tramp.”

“Mommy!” Minnie says a little too loudly, pointing her fork at you. “You gotta go to Oo-vuhas and be Lady and Tramp! You gotta!”

And at that moment you know you can’t say no, and that Matt knows that. You can’t tell your daughter you don’t want to be like Lady and Tramp. Not that you don’t want to go on a date with Matt - the idea gets you giddy and makes your stomach flutter - but you thought if it happened, it would be a coffee or something. Not somewhere where you can’t even afford to look at the building. The idea makes you a little nauseous, because you are sure you’d make an absolute fool of yourself.

But Matt looks determined and sure of himself. You are certain he asked in front of Minnie so that she could help bully you into saying yes to such a lavish date. 

Luckily, your mind is working in overdrive, and you choke out, “I don’t have anything to wear. They have a dress code, don’t they?”

You don’t expect Matt to push his chair out and get up. Your throat instantly tightens up and fear shoots up your spine. Have you offended him? He clearly wants to do something with you and you’re over here hesitating. You must be coming off as a complete bitch. 

You start to stand up yourself as Matt disappears into the entryway. You don’t think he’d just leave without saying goodbye to Minnie.

Maybe you can talk to him - explain that somewhere a little less grand would be ideal to start.

Before you can start to follow him, Matt is coming back to the table, holding up the garment bag he brought with him, still looking like the cat that got the canary. 

“I thought you might say that,” he starts, his voice almost a little musical, “so I got you this.” 

You stare dumbly at him, shock and confusion overtaking your system. 

He got you something to wear? To Uvas? 

No one has ever bought you clothes before - except your parents. Even when you were pregnant, the small amount of gifts you got were all for Minnie. 

You distantly hear Minnie start saying something about presents, but it is all muffled under the sound of blood pumping through your ears. You step forward hesitantly and reach out for the zipper of the bag, your hand shaking slightly.

You expect it to be a joke. You’re going to open the bag and there’s going to be a clown costume inside, or a skimpy dress people like arm candy to wear, or something akin to a Burka. 

You don’t expect a black floor length sheath gown. The silhouette is simple, but you can tell just by looking at it the quality of the dress is top notch. The fabric has a nice weight to it, and it is incredibly soft to the touch that you have the distinct feeling that it did not come from a dress warehouse or a department store. 

This type of dress would come from a boutique uptown and would cost a few hundred dollars. 

You are so caught up in admiring the dress, you don’t notice Minnie come up beside you until she is also touching the dress. Panic that she might have crumbs or curry on her fingers runs through you, but you force it down.

“It’s like a princess dress for Mommy!” Mouse cooes and you feel your face start to heat up.

You’ve never worn something so nice before and certainly nothing that would be fit for a princess, but it seems like Matt and Minnie are on the same page.

“Well, I want Mommy to feel like a princess.” 

You want to hide your face, but you know you can’t, so you cover your mouth instead.

“Matt, this is beautiful. But this is so much, I can’t accept this.” 

You know that while Matt is a lawyer, he’s still struggling a bit financially. If he had his way, you know he wouldn’t charge anyone for his services, and even though Nelson, Murdock, and Page has paying customers, they still have to stagger out their bills. 

He shouldn’t be spending his hard saved money on you. 

Matt sighs your name before gently draping the garment bag over the back of his dining chair and stepping towards you. Both his hands go to your waist, and you freeze up as he steps close enough to press his forehead to yours. Your heart begins to wildly beat when his hands slowly begin to rub your sides. 

“Let me spoil you. To make up for all the dates I’ve missed. Please?” His lips dip into a small frown and you feel like you’ve kicked a puppy. 

He’s gone out of his way for you, and you are being so ungrateful. 

But it is so hard to say yes. Guilt is pooling in your stomach, and you just want to disappear into the shadows and be forgotten about. That is so much easier than Matt holding you, saying such sweet things.

You don’t want to ruin everything. 

You close your eyes as you have a war inside yourself. All you have to say is ‘Yes’ and you’ll make Matt happy, but the monster inside of you keeps dragging your mind into a pit. 

Matt wants to treat you like a princess, but how crushing will it be when he decides that is no longer the case? Can you take that?

The corners of your eyes start to sting and your monster starts to mock you for getting worked up over something as simple as being asked on a date. 

Why can’t you be normal?

Why can’t you accept this?

Why can’t -

The thoughts cease as Matt’s lips press against yours, soft and sweet and tempting. You respond hesitantly.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathes into your mouth, making you shudder. “You deserve it.” 

“You deserve it!” Minnie chirps from beside your knees and you very suddenly remember where you are and what you were doing. You try to pull away from Matt, thinking Minnie hasn’t seen the two of you like this yet, and it might confuse her, but he keeps his hands firmly planted on your hips, not letting you go. You don’t try to fight it, instead, you turn your head away, trying to hide away in your shell. 

You know there is no way you will win this. Matt is determined and he clearly has Minnie on his side, so, very hesitantly, and feeling like you are going to throw up at any moment, you nod into Matt’s shoulder.

“Okay.”

Mouse lets out a deafening cheer and you feel her dart away.

“LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP! LADY AND TRAMP!”

Matt laughs at her excitement over something she doesn’t understand, while you tuck yourself into his hold, wondering how long you have before he ends up shattering your heart into pieces.

---

tags:

@two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos @resting-confused-face

@Specialagentjackbauer  @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@petrovafire39 @ghostindeath @roxytheimmortal 

 @allllium @waywardcrow @thatkindofgurl @waywardxrhea 

@anehkael @akilatwt @lostinthefantasies @reluctanthalfwayoptimism @ethereal-blaze

 @nennia-2000 @seasonofthenerd @abucketofweird  @mattmurdockstateofmind @imagineswritersblog @hazelhavoc @smile-child-13 @allst4rsfall @hashcakes @kezibear @mapleaye @sammanna @gamingfeline @moon-glades @nightwitherspring @phoenix666stuff @dare-devil

@ladyoflynx @hobiebrowns-wife @sarcasm-n-insomnia @lillycore 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare 

@mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @yes-im-your-mom @hunnybelha @actorinfluence @capbrie @prowlingforfood @jupitervenusearthmars

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @nommingonfood @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

Beneath the Ashes (I/II) - Azriel x Reader

Beneath the Ashes Part I - Azriel x Illyrian!Reader

Summary: Azriel finally finds the girl he’s been looking for all these years—his mate. But unfortunately for him, his mate happens to be an Illyrian who, upset over the fact that he’s turned his back on his own people, wants nothing to do with him. (Enemies to lovers vibes, angst)

a/n: based on this REQUEST. This is going to be a two part story because I kind of went a little too hard writing this haha. Thank you for your request and the inspiration! (Also I know a lot of you asked to be on a taglist for this story but since it’s only 2 parts I’m not gonna make one)

warnings: misogyny, sexism

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Part I of II

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Azriel was not happy, to say the least. Not as he landed on the cold, hard ground of one of the Illyrian war camps in the northern region of the mountains. He internally cursed at Cassian for still being on his mating honeymoon with Nesta because now he was being forced to do things Cass would normally be in charge of—primarily dealing with the Illyrians.

It wasn't a secret that Azriel hated Illyria and all its people. Hated that he came from such a barbaric, backwards culture.  He knew Cass was trying to do all he could to break the traditions Illyrians held, but Azriel had always told him they were a lost cause. If he could never see these damn mountains again, he'd consider it a blessing.

But, evidently, that was not a blessing he'd be allowed—at least, not until Cassian returned. For now, he was the one who was being sent out on these missions by his High Lord. 

Rhys had gotten word that some commotion was happening in the camp that had its people up in arms about something. He had asked Azriel to go check it out and who was he to turn down a request from his brother? So here he was. He was just hoping to get this over with soon. 

He had tried sending his shadows ahead of time to collect intel, but they had been acting weird ever since they returned to him. They had swarmed him with their cryptic messages.

Beautiful.

Our master must see. 

Permission to kill, master?

Needless to say, Azriel had no fucking idea what any of that meant. He had given them no such permission to kill, at least, not until he could see for himself what was transpiring here. 

He was passing by the training rings, ignoring the stares of the brutes who were working out and sparring within them, when he heard several sets of loud voices. He quickened his pace, following the voices into the residential section of the camp until he finally beheld what was causing the commotion. 

Three males were on the porch of one of the cabins, restraining a female Illyrian, who was thrashing around like a wildcat, screaming, "Let me go, you assholes!"

Another male Azriel recognized as the War Lord of the camp was standing on the steps leading up to the small cabin, arms crossed and a sneer on his face. A male next to him was holding a blubbering Illyrian toddler, whose arms were outstretched towards the female with tears pouring down her chubby cheeks. 

None of them had noticed him yet which Azriel used to his advantage. His shadows were already wailing when he let them loose. They spiraled towards the group, swirling around the males holding the female and yanking them away from her. All of their heads snapped in Azriel's direction except for the female. She tumbled to the ground but quickly scrambled to get up and rushed towards the male next to the War Lord, not even sparing a glance at what had caused the males to unleash her. 

She went to grab the little girl from the male holding her but was quickly held back by the War Lord with a growl. The War Lord twisted her arms behind her back, holding her in place, but his glare was firmly set on Azriel.

Azriel's face displayed no emotions as he stalked forward, his hand ghosting over Truth-Teller. 

"Shadowsinger," the War Lord bit out in greeting. The other males quickly got to their feet and stood at attention. 

"Silas," Azriel said, not bothering to address him properly which made the male bristle, "Care to explain what is happening here?" 

"None of your business, Shadowsinger," Silas hissed. "I have it under control."

"Doesn't seem like it," Azriel replied, coolly. 

The female was still trying to break out of Silas's grip, cursing under her breath. He tightened his hold on her, causing her to hiss in pain as he twisted her wrists in his hands. Azriel's shadows seemed to hiss in response, poised to attack as soon as Azriel gave them permission. 

Azriel's gaze fell on the female, noting the frustrated tears in her eyes. It seemed like there had been a scuffle. Her hair was half falling out of her braid, she had scrape marks on one of her cheeks, and a bruise was beginning to form on her jaw. One of her wings was flared out proudly while the other drooped to the floor at a weird angle. His fists clenched at the sight and when she finally looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, the breath was completely knocked out of his lungs. 

Despite her tattered appearance, she was single-handedly the most beautiful female he had ever laid eyes on. He stood frozen for a moment, taken aback before he shook himself out of the spell she seemed to cast on him, realizing how inappropriate of a time it was to be ogling her. 

"Let her go, Silas," Azriel commanded in a dark voice.

"I don't take orders from you," Silas spat out. "Besides, this female has been breaking the law for months now. We're taking her into custody." 

"Fuck you," the female barked out, stomping on Silas's foot. The male cursed and went to strike her on the back of her head but Azriel's shadow caught his wrist in their grasp before he could. 

"I said," Azriel growled, lowly, causing the males to shift in place, "Let her go." 

"Fine," Silas sneered, though a tiny bit of fear flashed in his dark eyes. He pushed her to the ground in front of him. She was quick to spring back to her feet and rush towards the toddler who was still screeching. The male could hardly keep hold of the little girl.

"Let the babe go, too," Azriel snapped. The male scoffed but set the little girl down. She immediately ran to the female who bent down with her arms wide open, catching the little girl and standing with her firmly on her hip. The little girl's cries quieted down and she buried her small face in the female's neck. 

"Would anyone like to tell me what the hell is going on here?" Azriel snarled, taking another step closer. Half the males mirrored his step back and he fought the urge to chuckle. 

"Like I said," Silas snapped, "This female has been breaking the law—”

“What law?” Azriel asked, firmly.

“Females are not permitted to live alone nor own houses,” Silas barked out. “She has ignored our warnings—”

“My father left the cabin to me in his will!” The female shouted, causing the small toddler in her arms to whimper. She stroked the girl's hair, shushing her. “It belongs to me.”

“I don’t care what your father promised you,” Silas growled. “It is against the law for you to be living here alone. You must surrender the cabin and go live in the barracks with the other unwed females of marrying age. Your sister will be placed under the care of the matron.” 

“Like hell I’m leaving her under the care of that female! You’re just going to have her wings clipped and force her to do grueling chores all day! She stays with me!” 

“You are out of line! I knew your father wasn’t raising the two of you right. Ever since your mother passed away—”

 “Don’t you dare say another word about my parents!”  

The War Lord lunged towards the female with a growl but Azriel shadowed between them, unsheathing Truth-Teller and pressing it against the male’s throat. 

“Lay a hand on her and I’ll gut you right here in front of all of your brutes,” Azriel snarled. 

Silas stepped back with a scoff. “You want to stick your nose in our business? Fine, then she’s your problem. I expect her out of this house by the end of today, Shadowsinger, or there will be worse consequences.” 

He stormed away, his entourage trailing behind him while sending glares to the female. Azriel waited until they were out of view before he turned to look at the female but she was gone from next to him, already walking up the steps to the cabin with the babe—her sister—on her hip.

Azriel went to follow her but she stormed into the cabin and slammed the door in his face before he could so much as utter a single word. He let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before he knocked on the door. When Rhys had mentioned a problem happening in this camp, he hadn't expected to deal with something like this. It would’ve been much easier if it had been a problem he could solve with his fists. 

When she didn't answer, he knocked harder—nearly causing the door to shutter. 

It flung open a second later, a seething female behind it. "I already told those assholes I'm not leaving. If you're here to tell me to pack up and move, you can kiss my ass."

Azriel had to stop his lips from twitching into an amused smirk at her words. He wasn't used to dealing with female Illyrians that had attitudes. Most of them kept their heads down and stayed quiet. His mother had been like that....

"I'm not here to tell you that," Azriel answered. "May I come inside?" 

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms and staring him down. He found himself even more amused at how she was trying to intimidate him. Most fae avoided him and his gaze. But a female, whose head barely reached his shoulders, seemed to be completely unfazed by him.  

"No, you may not," she snapped. "Anything you need to say to me can be said perfectly fine from where you're standing." 

“Can I at least bring a healer to come check out your injuries?” He eyed the scrapes on her face, the bruise and her drooping wing. Azriel’s chest ached at the sight and anger pulsed under his skin. He wanted to turn around and go rip those males apart limb by limb for laying a hand on her.

“I don’t need your help, shadowsinger,” she spat out.

"Fine," Azriel sighed. "I was sent by the High Lord because there's been reports of someone here causing disarray. I'm going to assume that someone is you." 

She shrugged, nonchalantly, her eyes flickering between his own and the shadows swirling around him that wouldn't shut up about how beautiful she was, how brave....They were singing her praise. It confused him. His shadows had never acted like this before. 

When she failed to answer, Azriel cleared his throat, uncomfortably. “Will you answer my question?”

“Aren’t you the spymaster?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Shouldn’t you be able to gather intel yourself and not rely on a lowly Illyrian female?”

“A lowly Illyrian female?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at her crass words towards herself.

“Isn’t that how you and all the High Lord’s dogs view us?” Her tone was biting, her eyes filled with hate.

Azriel shifted, at a loss for words. He was used to being met with hostility by the Illyrians, but never usually from the females themselves. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

It was a lousy response, but he truly had no idea what to say. She scoffed, rolling her eyes at him and moved from the doorway, grasping the door. 

“Even if I could help you, I wouldn’t care enough to do so,” she snapped. “Now, if that is all, you can kindly escort yourself off my property, shadowsinger. Thank you.”

The door slammed in his face a second later.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Azriel returned a few hours later with a letter from the High Lord in his hands. He stormed through the camp, once again ignoring all the glares sent his way. He pushed his way inside the main war tent where Silas was sitting at his desk, twirling a dagger in his hands. His dark eyes looked up at him as he walked in, narrowing.

“You’re back,” Silas said, voice dripping with disdain. “I noticed that the female has still not been relocated from the cabin.”

Azriel strode forward and slammed the letter down on his desk. Silas’s eyes dipped down to it, quickly reading the short message before he looked back up at Azriel with a sneer. “What is this?”

“A notice from the High Lord and Lady,” Azriel answered, face unreadable. “Any laws that forbid a female from living alone or owning property are hereby revoked. This repeal shall be set in motion immediately.” 

"I can read just fine, Shadowsinger," Silas snapped. "I meant what the fuck is this? Does Rhysand think he can just snap his fingers and remove laws that have been around for centuries? I refuse to allow this."

"You'll address the High Lord properly or I'll cut your tongue out for your disrespect," Azriel growled. "The High Lord and High Lady can do whatever they want. You will abide by these new laws or your title of War Lord in this camp will be revoked." 

Silas looked like he wanted to say more, a vein in his forehead pulsing, but he only tightened his hands into fists and let out a long breath. "Very well then, Shadowsinger. I assume you've already informed Y/n of this?" 

"Y/n?"

Silas smirked. "You ran to tattle on us to the High Lord and didn't even know the name of the bitch you—"

Before anything else could come out of the War Lord's mouth, Azriel stalked forward and kicked his desk over, causing both Silas and all his paperwork and trinkets to smash on the floor. The War Lord let out a pathetic gasp in fear, scrambling to his feet and pressing himself against the back of the tent.

"Talk about her like that again," Azriel snarled. "And I'll rip out your throat."

Silas quickly tried to school his composure but Azriel could still see the lingering terror in his eyes. Silas straightened out his leathers before glaring at him. "It's nice to see the Illyrian is still in you after all this time, Shadowsinger. Once a brute, always a brute—isn't that what you like to say?" 

Azriel felt his pulse spike at Silas's words. He hated being reminded that he was Illyrian, even more so being compared to the worst of them. He wasn’t even sure why such rage had sparked in him in the first place. Silas's lips twitched into a smirk as he saw the way his words striked through him. But Azriel didn't wait around to hear what else the asshole had to say, letting his raging shadows swoop him into their darkness. 

He stepped out of the shadows and onto the porch of the cabin he had been at earlier. He took several breaths, trying to calm himself before gently knocking on the door. After no one answered for a moment, he lifted his fist to knock again but the door was pulled open, leaving his hand to hover in the air. He dropped it to his side, narrowing his eyebrows as he was met with no one.

"Hewwo."

Azriel nearly jumped in fright before his gaze dropped to the toddler that stood in the doorway. It was the little girl from earlier, Y/n's sister. He swallowed harshly, eyes darting around the foyer of the cabin in hopes that her sister would pop out any second but no one came. He wasn't good with children, and wasn't used to being around them. Nyx was the only child he had ever really been around and he was still a baby. 

Azriel sighed and crouched down on his haunches, making him more eye level for the little girl. Her shoulder length hair was the same color as her sister’s, her eyes too. The resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. 

"Hello there," Azriel said as gently as he could. "Is your sister home by any chance?" 

“Mhm,” the little girl hummed, busy watching the swirling shadows all around him. 

"Do you think you can go get her for me?" 

She shook her head no, her hair bobbing with the motion. 

"Why not?" Azriel asked, keeping his voice light.

"Cause I'll get in trouble," she said with a little lisp. "Mm not 'pposed to open the door." 

Azriel smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. He was surprised that she didn't seem scared of him or his shadows, as most kids were. "Don't worry, I won't tell her you opened the door for me. It can be our little secret."

She looked to be contemplating his promise, her little nose scrunched up. One of his shadows whisked forward and started swirling around her tiny frame. To Azriel's surprise, the little girl giggled, swiping her hand around to try and catch it. 

"Suri, what are you—Get away from her!" 

Y/n came thundering down the hall, yanking her sister away from the doorframe. Azriel stood to his full height, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as she glared at him before turning to look down at her sister.

"Suri, go to your room." 

"No," Suri pouted, crossing her little arms. "I wanna play with the shadows."

Azriel's lips twitched. This was quite possibly the first time a child had ever seemed anything but scared of his shadows. It was oddly endearing. 

"Go to your room," Y/n commanded in a stronger voice. "Now."

Suri stomped her foot but did as she was told, disappearing from his view. 

"What are you doing back here?" She hissed, once her sister was gone. 

Azriel pulled out the other parchment paper he had brought with him, the same notice he had given Silas. He held it out for her. "I came to deliver this." 

She took the paper from him, glancing at him suspiciously. Azriel watched as her pretty doe eyes scanned the parchment, reading Rhysand's elegant script. To his surprise, she started to chuckle to herself. She handed it back to him, her face twisted into a mocking smirk. 

"Do you honestly think this is going to stop them from trying to kick me out of this house?" She asked him, sarcastically. His eyebrows furrowed. "I'm guessing you're going to patrol this camp for a week or two to make sure they're adhering to the notice and then you'll wipe your hands clean of this all, pretending the High Lord solved everything. But you know the day you stop showing up here, Silas will be at my doorstep." 

"I can assure you that we'll do everything we can to make sure all the WarLords follow these new laws," Azriel said, his face unreadable and his voice detached. She shook her head with a smile that lacked any warmth. “I promise you that.”

"Right," she drawled out, "Well, thank you so much for your help, shadowsinger." 

She went to shut the door but Azriel stuck his hand out, catching it before she could. His gaze fell to her drooping wing, still bent at an awkward angle. "Please, let me bring a healer to attend to your wing." 

Her wing could heal on her own. It would probably only take a day or two, but just seeing it made Azriel's chest ache. He knew the pain she must be in. 

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't pretend like you care about my wings." 

"I've broken a wing before, too," he explained. "I know how much it hurts. Please, let me help you." 

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Do you want to know the difference between my wings and your's, shadowsinger? Your wings healed. You get to fly. Mine will never heal."

Azriel's gaze dropped back to her wings, now noticing the two scars—clipped. Her wings had been clipped. His heart dropped into his stomach, rage bubbling to the surface instead.

"Who?" he growled, his voice ice cold. 

"Like I said," she bit out, "Don't pretend like you care." 

"I do care," Azriel replied, fists clenching. And it was true, he did. Wing clipping was a heinous crime, one that had been outlawed since Rhys was sworn in as the High Lord of the Night Court. Of course, sometimes the practice of wing clipping still took place in remote camps that slipped through the cracks. "Wing clipping has been forbidden since—"

"I am well aware that wing clipping is forbidden," she snapped. "But like your stupid little notice, no one cares. And the High lord and all of his cronies, you included, Shadowsinger, have made it very clear that you don't either." 

"We do care," Azriel argued. "We do. But we cannot keep watch of all the camps at all times. We rely on people reporting it—" 

"Oh, spare me from hearing your excuses," she cut him off with a growl. "Do you want to know who did this to me? Here's a clue—go look in the High Lord's desk for a letter addressed from me. I've been sending one every single day for the past six years so there's bound to be at least one still around." 

"Six...six years?" Azriel questioned, quietly. "You've been sending a letter every day for six years and not one of them was ever answered?"

Sure, Rhysand had been gone for fifty years, of course and the rest of them had been unable to leave Velaris thanks to him. Then, they had been busy with the war and didn’t have time to deal with inner court problems. But it had been two years since then and she was still sending letters. Letters looking for justice for what happened to her. Letters gone unanswered.

"Not a single one," she huffed.

"Y/n...I am so sorry—"

"Save it," she barked out. "Now, if we're done here, I'd like you to leave." 

"Please, let me help you—"

Azriel choked in surprise as something within snapped. He couldn’t breath, taking a single step back as a golden thread weaved its way through the space between him and the female standing before him. 

Before his brain could even process what just happened, the door was slammed in his face. But Azriel stood frozen on her porch. Frozen in shock because he had finally found his mate. After all these years, he had finally found the person he had been searching for. 

And she absolutely hated him. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Your wing had healed enough by the next morning that you could lift it off the ground, though it was rather painful to do so. Your pride made you suck it up, not wanting to go to the healer and have anyone touch your wings. No one had laid a hand on your wings since the day they were clipped and you wanted to keep it that way.

You got ready for the day, putting on one of your mother's old white, chemise dresses. It fell to the top of your boots, swishing around your ankles. You layered a dark blue skirt over it before putting on a front lace-up corset. You grimaced as you did up the buttons under your injured wings before you tightened the corset until it fit snuggly. Lastly, you threw on a cloak. It was snowing outside today and the last thing you needed was to freeze to death.

You stepped in the hallway, the cabin quiet. You went to wake up Suri to get her ready for the day. Normally she was still asleep, so you were surprised when you heard her voice the closer you got to the door to her bedroom. 

"Bad doggy," she babbled, her voice muffled through the door. "You can't go in there." 

Your eyes widened, realizing she was talking to someone or something. You quickly slammed her door open, eyes darting around in concern. Suri jumped as her door banged open, spinning around on her bed to look at you. A small shadow wisped behind her, like it was hiding. 

"Suri?" You questioned. "Who were you talking to?" 

"Issy!" Suri sang out, jumping off her bed in her little pajamas. She still called you issy, unable to pronounce your name easily or the word sister. "The doggy came back!"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "The what?"

The shadow darted out from behind Suri, swirling around her and causing the little girl to giggle, "Doggy!"

Your eyes narrowed. One of Azriel's shadows had not only lingered behind, but had been staying with your baby sister. You felt your pulse spike with anger. As if it could sense your emotions, the shadow stopped swirling around and instead pressed itself on the floor like it was bashful and guilty. 

You scoffed, "Go back to your master! We don't want you here." 

The shadow wisped upwards, disappearing through the ceiling. A realization had you clenching your fists. Suri pouted. "Issy, you scared the doggy away!" 

"That was not a dog—" you cut yourself off with a sigh. "Suri, go brush your teeth and your hair while I get breakfast ready, okay?" 

"No," Suri grumbled, her tiny nose twitching. "Not unless you get doggy back!" 

"If you do as I say, I'll make you strawberry pancakes for breakfast." 

"Strawb'rry pancakies!" Suri squealed, the shadow momentarily forgotten. Satisfied with your deal, your sister rushed off to get ready. You left her to it, stalking outside through the backdoor. You walked a few paces away from the cabin, staring up at the roof, using a hand to block the rising sun from your eyes.

"I know you're up there!" you shouted. "Don't bother trying to hide!" 

Footsteps were heard and then there was Azriel, peering down at you from his perch on your roof. His annoyingly beautiful face was near unreadable, his hair in a bit of disarray like he'd ran his hand through it one too many times. Dark circles were underneath his hazel eyes and those familiar shadows were whirling around him.

"Why are you on my roof?" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"Good morning, Y/n," Azriel said, his voice low and husky from disuse through the night. "I've been keeping watch. I wanted to make sure none of those males would bother you again." 

"I already told you I don't need or want your help, Shadowsinger! Now get the fuck off my roof," you snarled at him. You didn't want him here. You didn't want his stupid shadows near you or Suri either. Besides, since when did he care what happened to you or any other Illyrian females? He had turned his back on his own people the day he ran off to the High Lord's perfect little city, pretending like he wasn't one of you, wasn't Illyrian. 

Easy for him. He was a male that could get siphons to use his powers correctly, a male who hadn't been forced down and clipped. He could fly wherever he wanted, go wherever he wanted. He had money and resources you wouldn't even bother dreaming for. Azriel could wipe his hands clean and pretend like he hadn't been born in these mountains and hadn't left anyone behind to suffer when he left. 

It was one thing to escape this brutalizing, barbaric way of living. It was another to gain power and influence within the court and not bother to help your own people. Azriel was a traitor and he could go to hell for all you cared. 

You hated him for it. Hated him and all of his friends. Hated the High Lord and Lady who did little to help anyone here. Hated the General for leading your father to his death in the war. You hated them all.  

Azriel let out a quiet sigh. "I know you don't need my help, but I... I can't just leave knowing those males might come back and hurt you again. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it."

"I don't care about your stupid promises," you bit back. "Get off my roof and go home, Azriel. You're not wanted here." 

"I know you hate me and I know we've all let you down," Azriel replied, guilt shimmering in his eyes. "I'm going to do everything I can to make it up to you, Y/n. I promise." 

"Again with the promises! Your words mean nothing to me," you grumbled, tossing your hands in the air. "I don't have time for this. You know what? You want to spend all of eternity sitting on my roof, you go ahead! But I would really appreciate it if you would just fuck off!"

You didn't bother waiting for his response, storming back into your house and slamming the door shut behind you. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

A week went by and Azriel kept watch over you the entire time. Every day you would walk outside and peer up at the roof to see him perched there, oftentimes twirling his dagger in his hand lazily. He'd give you a small smile that looked more like a grimace and you'd roll your eyes and go back inside. 

You hated that some part of you did feel better knowing he was there. You knew his reputation and you knew none of the males in this camp would bother you as long as he was there. But it still infuriated you to see his face every morning. To see him shake the snow off his wings. To see him glare down at everyone in your camp like you were all beneath him. 

You especially hated how much Suri had come to love his shadows, always chasing them down the hallways of the cabin. You just wanted him gone. 

And it seemed like you got your wish two weeks later.

It was nighttime, the house quiet now that you'd coaxed Suri into going to bed. You were getting ready for bed yourself, dressed in a nightgown and putting out the fire when a series of soft knocks caught your attention. You frowned, pausing to look at the door. Who would be coming by at this time? Certainly no one good. 

You were debating on ignoring it when a dark shadow whisked its way underneath the door. 

"Y/n," Azriel called out. "It's just me." 

You rolled your eyes and opened your door, knowing he wouldn't leave until you did so.

"What?" You eyed him, taking in his disheveled appearance. You wondered how he survived spending the night in the snow. Just the small draft that came in from opening the door had you shivering. You hugged yourself, your hair blowing gently in the ice cold breeze.

Azriel seemed at a loss for words for a second, his eyes roaming down your body before he met your gaze. His cheeks turned a bit pink as you raised an eyebrow at him. He swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion.

"I need to leave for a few days," Azriel finally said. "The High Lord is sending me on a small mission. I...I would feel a lot better if you'd let me take you and your sister somewhere else while I'm gone. I can set the two of you up in a nice inn or tavern in Velaris. Or you could stay at my personal residence. Just for a few days." 

You stared at him utterly perplexed. "You're...you're joking, right?" 

He shook his head looking dead serious. "No, Y/n, I'm not. I worry what will happen if I'm not here to watch over you. Please, just...just let me help. It might be nice for Suri to take her to Velaris and let her see the city." 

"You're out of your mind," you hissed. "I'm not leaving my house and certainly not with you. I already told you I don't need your help."

You went to shut the door but Azriel reached out and grabbed it before you could.

"Please, I just want to help—"

“Azriel, I have survived here on my own for the past two years since my father died in the war,” you growled. “You can't sit on my roof forever. If you truly wanted to fix things, you would've done so centuries ago. So just leave, Azriel. And don't bother coming back." 

“I do care,” Azriel pleaded. “Please—”

"I am not leaving," you snapped. "I am not letting those stupid males run me from my own home. I don't know why you even care! And stop with the whole 'I promised you' thing. You don’t even know me!”

He opened his mouth to say something else but you slammed the door shut in his face. You locked the deadbolt before letting out a sigh. 

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Azriel was worried. Worried and scared and angry. Worried that Silas and his goons would bother his mate while he was gone. Scared that they’d hurt her. And angry at just the thought of that. His chest ached as he thought about his mate and her clear hatred towards him. He couldn’t blame her for it. She was right. He had abandoned Illyria a long time ago. 

But that needed to change. He needed that to change. Not just for his mate’s sake but for her sister, for Nyx, for all the females and children whose lives were awful because of the males in charge of all their camps. 

She had been the wake up call he needed. He had the privilege of being a male in Illyria. He got to keep his wings. Got to work at having a different life then the one he was born into. His mate hadn’t had those opportunities. She was flightless, stuck to the ground and stuck in her miserable camp. 

Azriel wanted nothing more than to just grab her and her sister and get them far away from Illyria. To bring them to his apartment in Velaris where he could take care of them, could keep them safe. 

But his mate didn’t trust him. 

He would do anything to prove himself to her. Prove that he did care for her and all the other Illyrian females. No matter how much hate he was met with, he’d keep crawling back until he earned her forgiveness and a chance to give her a better life. 

She deserved that more than anything. Not just because she was his mate but because she had been so strong all these years, standing up to males twice her size and keeping her sister’s wings from being mutilated like hers had been. She didn’t choose to be Illyrian anymore than he did. 

And Gods, he wanted her to stop hating him. He wanted her to give him a chance. Just one chance to show her what she truly deserved. He had learned so much about her by just watching her this week and he knew that no other female would come close to capturing his heart and attention the way she had in just that short span of time he’d known her. 

Azriel knew he didn’t deserve her or her forgiveness. He knew she was too good for him. Too beautiful, too pure of heart. He could see that just by the way she took care of her sister and the other females in her village, despite the torment it brought her from the males. 

He let out a sigh, his eyes still locked on the camp of Autumn Soldiers. He was doing a reconnaissance mission. Beron was up to something again and these soldiers had been spotted on the coast. 

It had been two days since he left his mate and so far, nothing had been unknowingly sent down the bond except for her normal moods she fluctuated with during the day. 

He just needed to finish this mission and rush back to Velaris to drop off his report to Rhysand before he could get back to her. He normally liked to take his time on his missions but this was quite possibly the first time he ever had a want to get back faster. He was hoping to sneak into the River House and set his report on Rhys's desk without seeing anyone. He'd been ignoring and skipping family dinners for the past week and knew they'd have a lot to say about it. 

Azriel faltered as a wave of fear crashed through him. No, not fear. Terror. Unbridled terror and then pain. He sucked in a breath, nearly falling from the tree he was perched in. He was frozen for a second before he realized what was happening---his mate was in danger. 

It took him less than a second to decide to abandon the mission and shadow all the way back to the Illyrian mountains. Azriel let out a curse when he stepped out of the shadows in front of his mate's cabin to see it covered in flames. Someone had set it on fire and it was quickly crumbling under the flames. His heart was beating in his chest as he strained his ears to make sure no one was inside.

But then the most heart-stopping, chill inducing sound was heard ringing through the camp.

His mate's screams.

He sprinted towards the sound, his boots pounding against the cold hard ground. It led him to the town center where a crowd had formed, males hollering and shouting encouragement at whatever was happening. 

Azriel pushed his way through the crowd, shoving aside male after male until he reached the front. His heart dropped in his stomach as he beheld what was happening before him. 

His mate on her knees, holding up the tatters of her shirt to maintain her dignity. Silas standing behind with a whip in hand, raising it in the air again. Blood all over the white snow around his mate, staining it red. Tear streaks running down his mate's face, her beautiful face pale and twisted in pain. One of Silas's commanders holding a crying and screaming Suri, her tiny fists pounding on his chest. 

Azriel wished he knew what happened next. Wished he had this memory to look back on whenever he remembered the rage he felt. But one second he was standing there staring at his mate in horror and the next second, he was surrounded by dead bodies with Truth-teller in his hand dripping with blood. The camp had fallen silent and his ears were ringing, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. 

Suri had been dropped in the chaos and had rushed towards her sister, throwing her small arms around her neck as she sobbed.

And his mate.

His beautiful mate was staring right at him, eyes wide from witnessing the carnage he had just unleashed in this camp. Silas laid dead behind her, his shadows still ravaging his body. Slit throats, broken necks on all the other males that laid dead at his feet. But his mate was looking at him.

Azriel took a step towards her, watching her carefully as she weakly wrapped an arm around her sister's body while her eyes never left his. And he knew the mating bond had just snapped for her, could see the realization in her eyes. 

"N-no," she stammered out, her voice cracking. "No. Not you. Not...Not you! Anyone but you!"

Azriel could feel her dread pouring down the bond amidst the pain and terror she felt. He felt his heart crack in his chest, heard his shadows wailing as they too felt her pain and sorrow. 

But his broken heart at finding his mate and hearing that she didn't want him was not important in this moment. Not as his mate's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she slumped to the ground.

Azriel rushed forward, scooping both his unconscious mate in his arms and her crying sister before disappearing in a whirl of screaming shadows. 

look down on me like that - masterlist (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut (w some eventual angst)

pairing: yoongi x reader ft. chaotic bestie jimin & cutie coworker jungkook

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

contains: explicit sexual content - enemies/coworkers to lovers, hate sex, accidental voyeurism, semi-public sex, dirty talk, mutual teasing, slow burn, a whole lotta general banter, truly excessive alcohol consumption, & prepare for extreme secondhand embarrassment

🖤 each individual chapter will have its own warnings! please read them and proceed with caution where appropriate 🖤

please note that this series is currently on hiatus - asks about updates will not be answered and i don't have an ETA on the final chapter's release at this time. i appreciate your patience with me 🖤

✨ read on AO3 ✨ main masterlist ✨

chapter one 7.2k - “I still can’t believe you actually lied your way into this job.”

chapter two 6.1k - “Do you like tteokbokki?”

chapter three 8.2k - “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you liked what you saw.”

chapter four 8.2k - “Yeah, you like that?”

chapter five 11.4k - “Do you want to hear a funny story?”

chapter six 6.2k - “If you want it so bad, then beg for it.”

chapter seven 8.9k - “Oh my god. You do have a weakness.”

chapter eight 15.3k - “I’m sorry, is this a booty call?”

chapter nine 16.0k - “And the Grammy goes to…”

chapter ten 13.1k - “I just want you to be happy.”

please note that this series is currently on hiatus - asks about updates will not be answered and i don't have an ETA on the final chapter's release at this time. i appreciate your patience with me 🖤

INVISIBLE STRING — CASSIAN!

pairing: cassian x morrigan (half) sister reader

notes: :3 hi hi this is so scary. i haven’t posted a full thought out fic in probably a year (crazy) and i would like to say i have not finished the series so if timeline is inaccurate and just plots don’t make sense w canon it’s bc im still on acowar :p but cassian has taken over my brain and i can’t get him out of it !!!! c: part two is already being worked on bc im so proud of her. i hope u all enjoy it <3 ++ i know mor is described as being blonde and fairly pale in complexion which is why i made reader her half sibling, and there are no descriptions of reader’s physical attributes bc i wanted to kept it as neutral as possible :3

cw: angst, hurt no comfort (yet?), azriel’s shadows being the biggest cassreader shippers ever, unrequited love but really it’s just idiots in love. also mentions (brief) of abuse from keir (gross!)

Your fingers nervously fumbled with the straps of your leathers. Heart pounding in your ears as you forced yourself to drop the nervous jitters, fingers balling into tight fist to stop their trembling.

It had been a long time since you had last seen your family. A long time since your gaze met violet eyes, or your nose scented cedar wood and night chilled mist. The lingering scent of sea salted water and citrus, and fresh paint and vanilla, and sweet wine and roses had nearly erased from your memory. But what you missed the most was the red gleam of siphons that glowed ruby red under certain light.

Truly, in an immortals life time half a decade was just a blip in time, minuscule, but you had never been gone this long from them. Especially not from Rhys, Az, Mor, and Cassian, with the exception of Rhysand’s imprisonment under the mountain.

You blinked away the burning in your eyes as you pushed open the doors of the town house. Soft chatter growing cold at the unexpected intrusion. You had barely enough time to register everyone seated at the table when shadows were zooming past their master to greet you excitedly.

Nuzzling into your hair and neck and arms. Azriel’s shadows had always been so fond of you. Whispering and singing in your ear in a language you could not understand.

They tugged you forward, until you were stumbling clumsily as they dragged you towards Cassian. An ache settled deep in your chest as you fought against them gently, moving between Azriel and Rhys. You missed the flash of hurt in hazel eyes as you avoided him.

Five years later and he still didn’t know the truth of your departure. Before your thoughts could send you spiraling, Rhys’ voice called your name. An undeniable smile in his voice before his arms were enveloping you, “Cousin, you’re back.”

“I am.” Your throat felt thick, tongue heavy as you fought back tears. His scent had always comforted you, Rhys had given you and Mor a chance. A lifeline in the sea that you were drowning in, in Hewn City.

Two sisters, both forced into a world that was cruel and unkind. Morrigan as rightful Heir of Keir had experienced the brunt of it all. From being stuffed into tight dress, to being pranced around in front of grimy men, and nearly forced into a life with a male whose family’s cruelty knew no bounds.

Your torment had been in forms of neglect and isolation. Your father had never much cared for you, being a product of affairs, his bastard, he left you alone. Barely acknowledged your presence when at the mere age of nine you were thrown into his arms from your mother’s father, stating you were no longer his responsibility since your mother’s death. Your father’s neglect, you now realized, had been a blessing.

You were Mor’s shadow. Clinging to her as any younger sister would. Always causing trouble until you learned to obey. Mor never let you experience the abuse from your father fully. Always taking the blame, always hiding you. You owed her and Rhys, your family, everything.

There was a soft clearing of a throat that pulled you and your High Lord apart. Shadows greedily pulling you to face everyone else. Azriel’s hazel eyes assessing you, looking for any injuries before his fingers were squeezing your elbow gently. A soft hello.

Your eyes flickered around the room, and you realized just how much had changed. Your High Lady, and dear friend seated at the head of the table, Rhys by her side. Besides him sat Azriel and then Elain.

Your throat tightened as you allowed your eyes to flicker to the other side, Nesta beside Feyra, and Cassian beside her. Amren had most likely skipped out dinner to enjoy the privacy of her apartment, and Mor was no longer around. Preferring to spend her time on the continent.

The golden thread that tied you to the Lord of Bloodshed sung loudly and happily in your chest. Five years since you had last laid eyes on him and the feeling alone nearly brought you to your knees.

Your eyes flickered away from Cassian, ignoring the way your heart and soul begged you not to. “Is my room still available?”

Feyra sent you a soft smile, sad really, as she realized how desperately you wished to find some peace and quiet. She knew of your affections for the General, and how you had never told him only to watch him fall in love with her sister.

“Of course it is, but you should join us.”

You swallowed roughly at Rhys’ words, unable to stop the gnawing pain in your heart and the cruel words circling in your mind. Cassian was not yours, he had never been and it was unfair of you to expect him to love you the way you had always yearned for him too. But it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, it always fucking hurt.

“I’m quite tired, maybe tomorrow.” Rhys didn’t push, just affectionately tucked your hair behind your pointed ear and let you go.

Your steps were quick, hurried and Cassian’s voice sounded like smooth velvet as he called your name. You didn’t stop, your knees nearly buckling under your weight as you forced yourself to keep walking.

Mumbling a quiet, “Goodnight,” before disappearing into the hallways in search of your bedroom.

During your five years away at Day the turmoil in your heart had eased, if only slightly. Cassian would unintentionally send his emotions down the bond, and it seemed it always happened when your heart had finally let you rest.

When you finally saw light at the end of a never ending tunnel of despair, the mating bond would reel you in, viciously and unforgiving. You were sure you were being punished.

How dare you ever try to question what the Mother wanted for you?

Being back in Velaris, being back home, felt so much worse. With the distance, even when his emotions poured into your very bones, it felt weakened. Less tethered to you.

But now? Now you felt his sorrow so deeply tears fell freely down your cheeks.

You had only been trying to sleep for a few hours, your rest had been fitful at best, anxiety prickling at your fingertips as you threw the warm blanket off of you. You needed air. You needed clarity.

Your feet moved on their own. From what you last knew there were no longer many residents here. You were careless in thinking so as your feet moved hurriedly through the house and out into the garden.

Filling your lungs with air as tears prickled at your eyes, the cold nipping at your skin as you sunk into one of the benches placed around the area.

You had only been in his presence for a mere five minutes and your heart was already waging a war against you.

Maybe you could convince Rhys to send you off once again. Your years away at Day had been filled with research and insight, maybe you could do the same at Dawn. Or any other Court that wasn’t here. Gods, you’d even take the forsaken libraries in the Hewn City if it meant not being here. You’d beg if you had too because this, this was too much.

You let out a shaky breath as your mind ruthfully plagued you with memories of the past. Of your utter devastation of hearing that Mor had slept with Cassian.

Of the guilt you felt after, when you avoided her in anger and utter jealousy and then told of the way she was savagely left to die.

You would never forgive yourself.

Remembering when you realized you were utterly and hopelessly devoted to your life long friend, and learning to live with just having a small part of him for you.

Hoping and praying to the Mother that he’d love you back. Hoping to see a spark of honeyed warmth, or a lick of jealousy when you found solace in the warmth of another. Anything, you prayed and prayed, but she never answered.

Not until you had pinned him down on the training matt, wings sprawled out beneath him as you stared at him smugly. A soft, primal, smirk on his face as he gripped your thighs. “You’re getting better.”

Your laughter filtered through the open area, “Only ‘better’? I just kicked your ass.”

He grunted, tugging you gently and in a quick succession of movements had flipped you over, pinning you to the ground. His thighs caged over yours, pinning your hands above your head as he sent you a toothy smile.

The wind that had been knocked out of you was not due to the fact your back had hit against the matt, but because something snapped inside of you. An invisible golden thread, darting from your chest to his, so visceral you could almost taste it, singing happily at finally being acknowledged.

But he gave no indication that he had felt the mating bond snap into place, “Yes, ‘better’. Because you should know not to let your guard down.”

Your speechlessness could’ve been a product of being bested in sparring, your mind racing with things to say but nothing came out.

The fog that had formed in your brain cleared at the bark of laughter that left Azriel, “If you two are done flirting, get back to sparring or leave the ring.”

You don’t remember what excuse you used to suddenly needing to leave but you did. Hope sparkling in your chest at what you thought was an answered prayer by the Mother. He was yours, just as much as you were his.

Only for the ember to burn to ash quickly, as two nights after Cassian had come to you looking for guidance on how to court Nesta.

You tried so hard, pushing down the mating bond that roared and screamed in utter agony as he spilled to you his affections for the eldest Archeron.

Your heart stuttering and begging for release of this pain as your mind caught up to you. He’d never see you. He hadn’t before, so what would be so different now? What would suddenly make you worthy in his eyes? The mating bond?

You realized quickly that you didn’t want that. Didn’t want him to love you just because fate decided to pair you together. You wanted him to love you, to yearn for you the way you had for him without something telling him to.

So with a forced smile you consoled him. Running your fingers through his hair and giving him advice on how to win her heart.

Some days you cursed yourself for that night. You wished you had been selfish and told him he was yours. But then the guilt would settle and you knew you’d never have the heart to force that onto your dearest friend.

In the end all you wanted was his happiness, if that was with someone else then you’d have to learn to live with it.

It had all led up to the night where you accidentally walked in on Nesta and Cassian in the kitchen at the House of Wind, lips and tongues tangled.

The mating bond felt like it was burning you alive from the inside out, angry and volatile as it blamed you for pushing him into her arms.

You’re not sure how you ended up in Rhys office, your face pressed into him as your fingers tried to claw at the hurt in your chest, “Make it stop, Rhys. Gods please, just make it stop.”

He had never seen you like this, never seen you in such despair as he tried to calm you down. He didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to help you.

Only held you in his arms and sang a lullaby his mother had always sang to the three of you as children. Your desperation and pain eased and numbness eventually coated your insides.

“Send me away.”

He hesitated, wiping your tears as Feyra’s soothing touch caressed your back. His violet eyes shining with hurt and concern for you, “What are you running from?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by the deep timber of a voice you were so familiar with,“Is it just me, or are you avoiding me?”

Heat quickly ran from your skull down to your spine at the velvety voice that belonged to Cassian. Your back tensing uncomfortably as you turned to look at him.

You refrained from letting your eyes glaze down his form. Bare chested and wings lazily held up as his brows furrowed when he took you in.

“Cassian-what are you doing here?”

You stood up from your seated position as he moved closer. His eyes never leaving yours, “Here as in the gardens or here as in my home?”

Your brows furrowed, were he and Nesta now permanently in the town house? It would’ve made sense, seeing as they were all here, having dinner earlier.

“In-in the gardens.”

His lips twisted up into a small quirk of a smile, his eyes lingering on your face as if trying to reacquaint himself with your features.

Your heart lurched to your throat as his gaze lingered on your lips before he looked back into your eyes. “I heard you walking around. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“How did you know it was me?”

His lips tugged into a proper smile this time, “Who else could it be?”

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he’d long ago familiarized himself with the sound of your steps.

Your brows pinched together, full lips tugging into a small frown, “Where is everyone else?”

“Elain is most likely off in Lucien’s apartment, Azriel is at the House of Wind.”

And despite yourself, you asked, “And Nesta?”

Your throat bobbed softly, heart already preparing itself to hear that she was tangled in his sheets in his room. A soft shrug came from him, muscles flexing deliciously at the movement, “Probably with her mate.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest at his words. Her mate? You were sure the confusion was evident on your face as Cassian laughed. “It’s a bit unfair isn’t it? She was made a measly six years ago, and she’s found who her soul is tethered to, while we’ve been around for centuries and have no luck.”

“Lucky her.”

He hummed, eyes glazing over your face and the look in his eyes was unrecognizable. Warm and honeyed. It made your stomach twist and turn into uncomfortable knots.

“I should go to bed, Cassian. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You made to walk away from him, but his rough fingers wrapped around your forearm in a touch that could only be described as gentle. When you finally looked up at him his brows were pinched together in confusion, and hurt.

“What’s with the full name?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

His eyes narrowed slightly at your words, “You’ve used it on me twice in the span of a few minutes. I’m never ‘Cassian’ to you.”

A stretch of silence passed between the two of you, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to act around him anymore.

Gods, you had come around to the idea of seeing him tangled with Nesta. But you were back and he was single. Or at least not with her and you don’t know what you feared most.

That your heart would take this as hope and yearn for him, and watch him fall for another, or to finally tell him how you felt. If it would even mean anything to him, if he’d even want you.

You couldn’t do it, you wouldn’t. You refused to let hope spark in your heart when he had already tangled himself into your very being like overgrown ivy. You don’t know if you’d survive any more rejection.

His voice was softer this time, thick fingers cupping your cheeks and jaw, forcing you to look at him, “You were gone five years and I can barely get five sentences out of you before you’re running away from me.”

Tears stung behind your eyes as your throat tightened at the hurt twinging his voice. It took everything in you to not soothe the crease between his brows, your body tensing softly as his thumb caressed your bottom lip gently, “If I have offended you, or hurt you some how tell me how to fix it. I have been waiting for five years for your return and I cannot stand to think that this whole time you were away you were angry with me.”

You wished you could speak, but your tongue felt heavy. The hurt in his eyes turned to something akin to despair at your silence, his hands dropped from caressing your face to hang loosely by his side, his wings slumped against the floor.

You let out a shuddering breath, forcing yourself to look away from him, “I should go to bed.”

And this time he didn’t stop you.

Weeks had trickled by so slowly since your return to Velaris as you tried to find your place back in your home court.

You had never been particularly good at fighting, your strength came from your knowledge. Books and literature had been something you had clung to as a child and it never left you.

You digested text in a way the inner circle did not, memorized details and names and faces others struggled with. But that did not mean Azriel was any easier on you when it came to training.

The muscles in your abdomen ached painfully, your arms felt heavy and filled with sand as he squared up once more. “I need a break.”

“You need to focus.”

A whine ripped from your throat in protest, Az’s shadows peppering cooling kisses and caresses on your skin to try and comfort you. “Just a few minutes. Please?”

“You think if someone were to try and attack you, they’d spare you if you whined like a petulant child?”

At your silence and glare he continued, “Didn’t think so.”

Your fingers balled into fist as you readied yourself, your muscles heavy with exhaustion as you threw punch after punch his way. “Remain focused, let yourself do what feels instinctual.”

You were sure you would’ve passed whatever Azriel’s standards were had his shadows not wrapped around your legs. Tugging insistently and trying to drag you away.

You heard Azriel’s noise of protest as he tried to rein his shadows back but they refused. Your head turned towards the direction in which they were tugging you in only to be met with Cassian’s warm hazel eyes already on you.

With an accidental misstep you were tumbling forward, falling far too quickly to catch yourself. Your head ringing harshly as the side of your face smacked against the mat.

Someone called out your name in a panic, and you missed the way Cassian had roughly pushed Azriel away from you as he turned you around.

His eyes frayed with worry as your eyes remained unfocused, “Can you look at me, dove?”

You blinked a few times before a groan of discomfort left your mouth, “What the fuck happened?”

Azriel’s shadows sheepishly began to caress your skull, pressing kisses of apologies on your skin. You didn’t hear anything besides tiny wisps of whispers coming from them but you’re were sure they hissed at Cassian as he shooed them away.

It took you a few minutes but you were eventually able to sit. Your ears ringing and still a little dizzy but you were feeling better despite the throb on your temple.

Azriel’s shadows peered at you from behind him sheepishly, and it was only when you extended your hand to them that they swarmed you in a flurry. Rubbing against your neck and hair affectionately, being careful with the side of your face but caressing you softly.

“They say they’re sorry.”

Your lips quirked up at Azriel’s words, “They’re forgiven.”

They buzzed in excitement, before stilling softly as Cassian extended a hand out for the shadows. They treaded carefully, lightly caressing his arm as in apology as if they had also offended him.

A few swirled around your hand and fingers, tugging it much more gently into Cassian’s extended hand. Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment but before you could pull away, he tangled his fingers with yours.

The shadows swirled around your intertwined hands as if proud of themselves before finally returning to their master. Azriel sent you a soft smirk, and with a shake of his head diseapeared into a mass of dark misty shadows.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, retorting in exasperation, “Just feels like I hit my head.”

Cassian’s lips tugged into a soft smile, helping you up and not dropping your tangled fingers, “Let’s get you to Madja.”

He pulled you along closely, walking you both towards the edge of the training area. Before you could overthink about being so tangled in his arms he wrapped himself around you. One hand cradling the back of your head to his chest, while the other gripped the back of your thighs.

Your heart pummeled to your stomach as he took off flying, it had been so long since you felt the breeze against your face like this. Your legs wrapping around him as a startled laugh left your mouth.

You felt his laugh more than you heard it, his chest rumbling against yours and for the first time in years, your heart felt at ease around Cassian.

No turmoil or anguish, just overflowing affection and happiness as he flew you carefully around Velaris. Your face tucked away from being so pressed to his chest to look up at him and your breath hitched.

He was truly so beautiful, rough and sharp features that looked like he was made out of stone carving. His lips the perfect shade of dusty rose and plump, his nose fit him beautifully too, slightly crooked at the slope from being broken over the years. White-raised scars on his beautiful tan skin. You were so close you could see the faintest of freckles that doted his skin.

“You didn’t pass out on me, did you?”

Heat bloomed on your cheeks at getting so lost admiring him before you tucked your face back into his chest, “No, I’m fine.”

His fingers squeezed around your thighs as he pulled you closer before he descended down to the Town House.

You were grateful for the hand he kept placed on your back as he walked you into the house. Your dizziness hitting you once again as you landed on solid ground. The warmth running down your spine at his heated touch had you suppressing a shiver.

Your bones ached in protest when he pulled away and sat you down in front of an amused Rhys and exasperated Madja. The elder lady frowning at the bruise on your temple.

“Cassian, I’ve told you not to be so rough when training,” Madja’s soothing voice chastised the General. Your lips tugging into an amused smiled at the noise of protest that left his mouth.

“It was Azriel’s shadows that caused this.”

Madja’s eyes narrowed softly at his words but said nothing more. A hiss leaving your lips as she pushed against the bump forming near your eye.

Cassian’s fingers twitched nervously at the sound of your discomfort. His eyes glued to you as you were looked over by the healer.

Something warm and comfortable hummed in his chest seeing you. The weeks you had been back were nothing short of torture for him.

In the five years you had been gone Cassian came to the devastating realization that he was utterly and unabashedly enamored with you. Cursing himself for the time wasted on pointless lovers, on Nesta, when you had been by his side for the better half of four centuries.

His heart cracking open and knocking him over one restless night as his mind tormented him with everything he had been lacking since you had departed to Day.

He figured that he had always loved you, had always cared for you. But the twisting of his gut in your absences alerted him that it was in a way that was different from Mor and Amren, and then Feyra. His obsession with needing you near, needing you safe stemmed from some thing else entirely.

It took four months of being away from you to realize that. Cursing himself at all the time wasted.

And it wasn’t as if he didn’t try to get ahold of you while you were studying and researching to your hearts content at Day. He had sent letter after letter, received few responses but he had figured you were busy.

His skin had only started to crawl with dread and anxiety when there had been reasons for the Inner Circle to attend a meeting, or some grand ball thrown by Helion, and you were never there.

Either whisked away to some other Court for extended research or taking time away to visit your sister.

The very last time he had stepped foot in Day while you had been there was about three months before your return. Rhys had granted him permission to seek you out.

And when he stepped foot into Day Court’s palace in search of you his hope dwindled as Helion informed him that you had just left a few days prior for a fourteen day tour at Autumn Court. But he swore he scented the soft jasmine and lavender cream that he recognized as your scent roaming the halls.

Resigned, he returned home.

Then you returned, so careful and tense in his presence he wished to turn back back to when things were easier between the two of you. When his face would nuzzle into your soft belly as you ran your fingers through his hair and consoled him after a nightmare.

Or how he’d find his favorite pastries wrapped up on the counter that he knew you’d gone out of your way to get him.

He missed when his feelings hadn’t tangled themselves so deeply into you and he could just be. Gods, did he miss you. He yearned and ached and burned for you while you seemed content at keeping him an arms length away.

The mother could be so cruel.

He barely registered Rhys pressing an affectionate kiss to your bruised temple and mumbling that he was taking Madja back before something so earth shattering was unraveling in his chest.

His eyes wide and chest heaving the second the two of you were alone and your eyes met. A deeply rich golden invisible thread darting from his chest to yours.

He had unconsciously poured all his emotions of recognizing the bond down your connection. A primal need to be closer to you bursting from his chest as he tugged on the bond.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t seem surprised he noted. Your side of the bond closed off tightly he could feel nothing from your end. He hated that.

Your eyes were wide in apprehension as you stared at him, tears lining your eyes as his emotions of love and devotion were so strong they brought him to his knees before you. Pleading and desperate as he called out your name.

“Don’t do this, Cassian.”

His brows pinched together as he reached for you, the bond screaming in agony as you avoided his touch and stood up to create some space between the two of you.

“Dove, listen to me. Please.” He was not above begging, still kneeled in the center of the room as his wings slumped to the ground. His eyes following your every move as you nervously ran your fingers through your hair.

“I feel it, I feel you.” His fingers and hands were steady as he pointed to his chest despite the feeling of anxiety creeping into him.

“You’re mine, my mate, dove.”

There was a beat of silence, Cassian staring at you as if you had delicately placed every beautiful star in the sky. But you had never seen him look at you like that before.

Never had he inclined he wanted you besides the bond. Gods, did it hurt. Your stomach churned sadly as your fingers balled into fist as you shook your head in denial.

“No. No, you don’t get to just suddenly want me because of the bond. I don’t want it this way.”

His frown deepened at your words, your emotions so heavily felt they started to crack the walls you kept up and pouring into the bond.

You had known for years. Five years, you had known and said nothing. “Gods, Cassian! I have loved you for so long. Prayed and begged to the Mother, to the Cauldron, to the Moon and Stars to have you return my affection and you didn’t.”

Cassian wanted to speak, to protest your words but the frustrated tears pouring down your beautiful face and the agony building in his chest, that was no longer just his, kept him quiet. “I’ve watched you pine and love others, and you have never looked at me that way. You had never thought me worthy of you in that way, and now that you know. It shouldn’t change a thing.”

“But it does,” His fingers itched to devote themselves to you. To memorize every curve and dip on your body. “It changes everything-”

You cut him off before he could continue, before he could tell you that he now felt worthy of loving you. That he now knew he could love you in a way you deserved if the Mother had blessed him with you as his wonderful mate. “Well it shouldn’t.”

You sniffled softly as you stared at him directly in his eyes, “I don’t want it to.”

hi my love!! how are you?🩷

i saw your requests are open and i wanted to ask for more jealous!aaron if you’re up for it! maybe one of the girls (probably jj or penelope) set up reader on a date and they are talking about it on the jet ride home from a case. she’s not too sure about it but wants to give it a chance…rossi and derek are hyping her up too maybe! and our man aaron is just watching thinking he’s lost his chance but little does he know she’s only going to try and get him out of her mind.

wishful thinking

these kinda plots >>> 💓 cw; bau!reader, sooo much mutual pining (they're both idiots), a touch of jealous!aaron, slight angst wc; 1k

You weren't being too subtle.

As the others were settling down, getting situated for the ride home, your priorities laid elsewhere; admiring Aaron and the handsome, beautiful, handsome features he possessed.

The way his cowlicks were tousled gently over his forehead, just begging to swept back. His chiseled jawline, one your hand yearned to span across. His enviously long eyelashes. His lips-

Penelope suddenly sitting next to you pulled you from your trance, causing you to jump. It had been one of those rare instances she was needed in the field, offering her specialities on sight rather than stationed back in Quantico.

The expression she bared was rather eager, complete with a pair of googly eyes.

You laughed shakily, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks - hoping your longing stare hadn't actually gone noticed, "May I help you?"

"So," Her grin widened, "are you excited!?"

You grimaced slightly as your mood instantly deflated. You uneasily crossed a leg over the other, "I don't know."

"Excited for what?" Morgan inputted from above; headphones in hand, twirling the headband in a circle around his index finger.

You offered a sigh in response, so Penelope took the initiative to answer for you.

"You know James Cameron? From Homeland Security?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's expressed quite the interest in our fellow crime fighter." Penelope's excited grin turned back towards yourself, also nudging you with an elbow. "And so I've honorably claimed the role of Cupid and someone," More wistful eyes pointed at you, "has a date Saturday night."

"He's a catch." JJ expressed enthusiastically, dramatizing a swoon as she sat across from the two of you. "Tall, dark, handsome."

"I can vouch I've heard nothing but good things about him." Morgan teasingly ruffled the hair on the top of your head, "Way to go kid."

You offered a meek smile, squirming ever so slightly in your seat. It took everything in you to not let your gaze drift back elsewhere. "Thanks but... I'm not so sure I want to go."

"What's not to be sure about? He's smokin', successful. It'll be good for you, too. When's the last time you put yourself out there?" JJ pointed out, arching an eyebrow in emphasis.

You shrugged, your chin landing in your palm.

Clearly you couldn't go into the specifics; the truth being you had your eyes on someone else. A particular boss you all shared, sitting just a few feet away.

The whole dating scene, you've been hesitant due to said feelings. The only reason you had truly considered going out - was to get Aaron out of your mind. You've spent countless, sleepless nights thinking about him, picking apart every little interaction; the way he looked at you after you had a breakthrough at a profile, admirable enough to make you want to burst at the seams. Walking alongside him, hands centimeters apart, softly grazing his skin. The concern he showed following an unfortunate brawl with an unsub - he had almost reached out to cradle your face. But, all of which could have been entirely figments of your imagination. Wishful thinking.

But regardless, they had given you the slightest amount of hope. Which is why you waited, but you couldn't do so forever; the probability of you and him - highly unlikely.

You had two choices; to continue holding out for the impossible, or to pursue the realistic.

You peered over at Aaron, consumed entirely by the file in his lap. It didn't appear he was paying attention, and that stung. All things considered.

The truth is, he was, and disliking every single bit of it. While it looked as if he were working, he was merely scribbling on a scrap piece of paper, enough to wear it down and produce a hole; silently brooding and anxiously waiting to hear where the conversation went. The more it carried on, however, the more jealousy burned in the middle of his chest. The two of you were close, you understood him like no one else, but that itself was the issue.

He feared if you got too close, if you really, really knew him, he would damage you somehow. Or worse, you'd end up similarly to Haley - unsatisfied and yearning to leave him behind. And so, he had refrained from being proactive.

In addition, right now, part of him didn't know what hurt more; the fact you were going on a date with someone who wasn't him, or the fact that you hadn't mentioned it.

"I say go for it." Dave offered, "Trust me. I am an expert, after all."

Emily bust out laughing, "Okay."

"What do you think?" You asked over their laughter, your voice detrimentally small. "Hotch?"

Aaron's head lifted, his eyes immediately latching onto yours. It kept circling in his head; You missed your chance. You're missing your chance.

Despite the ongoing internal conflict, one he could resolve in a few simple words, he panicked.

"I don't see a reason not to." He rushed out, your heart plummeting into your stomach at his words. "Of course, don't do anything you're not comfortable with. But there's no harm in seeing if there's a connection."

Even as he spoke, he didn't sound like himself - as if someone else were doing the talking. Extremely feigned, forced. Speaking from his mind rather than his heart.

"Okay," You bit your lip, looking directly at him as you spoke. "I will."

As the others switched topics, your eyes stayed with Aaron's. A silent exchange drifted between the two of you, Spencer's current tangent seemingly miles away. Hurt, betrayal, a touch of something else too.

You exhaled deeply, turning to look out your window.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Did it?