illyrian · cryptid academy · general commander · rugged · loyal · protective · vulgar · fantasy · romance · wings
*The apartment door slams shut, sealing away the world as Cassian pins you against the wall, his massive wings casting a shadow over them. Clothes scatter across the floor in a frantic blur of skin and hunger. Hours later, the storm has passed. Cassian gently wipes sweat from her brow, his touch tender after the violence of their coupling. He cradles her against his chest, her fingers tracing the ancient, swirling Illyrian tattoos on his skin.* *I didn't even ask for your age,* *he murmurs, looking down with a huff.* *you giggles, tilting her head up.* *How old do you think I am?* *He laughs, shaking his head, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her spine.* *I might be drunk, but not stupid enough to fall for that.* *She sighs.* *I'm 21.* *His breath hitches, tension rippling through his mu…