the roommates

Chapter One

A/N: This will be a slow burn smutty polyamorous fic with a relationship between Nesta, Cassian, AND Azriel. Enjoy ;) This is gonna be funnnnnn

"Stupid overgrown bats might as well have a fucking pissing contest to lay claim to everything they can get their filthy hands on-" Nesta grumbled angrily, shoving clothes into a suitcase.

"We can hear you," Rhysand growled from her living room.

"Good!" Nesta shouted back. She was fuming. Feyre and Rhys had arrived at her door tonight and had given her no option but to move into the House of Wind. Of course, she'd have to attend to Feyre's friends while she fucked her new mate in eternal bliss in the damn mansion he'd built just for her. It was unfair.

"Nes, be nice," Feyre sighed. "Please."

"I'll be nice when you stop stealing my life from me," Nesta snarled, stomping into the living room to grab a few things, going back to her bedroom to stuff them into her suitcase.

"You can happily live on the streets if you'd prefer," Rhys grumbled, and Feyre smacked his arm, whispering a vicious "not helping."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Nesta barked at him. Clearly, the two were not on good terms. And no amount of money he funneled her way would change that. For all she could see, he was a pompous bastard who'd stolen her freedom and her life from her. Nesta never wanted to be fae, and never wanted to live in this world. She didn't belong here and everything Feyre's new family said or did made that glaringly obvious.

"No comment," Rhys sighed. What her sister saw in him, she'd never know. Sure he was traditionally handsome, but he was much too bossy. Everything had to be exactly as Rhysand wished it. He didn't know what to do with someone who wasn't instantly charmed and taken with him.

No, Nesta hated how perfect he was. It was like he felt the need to rub it in everyone's face. Not to mention the two frat boys she was destined to bunk next to. At least they were better to look at, if no less irritating. Finally done, she slammed her suitcase shut and rolled it into the living room, flustered and sweaty. She would have appreciated a little bit of warning, at least.

Rhysand looked around with a grimace, running a finger across her mantle and scoffing at the layer of dust he unearthed, quickly wiping it from his fingers. Nesta narrowed her eyes at him. For someone who seemed to be so concerned with how much of his money she was spending, he'd hated this place the moment she'd chosen it. She liked it because it had character and felt a lot more like home than that sprawling House ever would. You'd think he'd be grateful she chose the cheapest place in Velaris. If it was so unacceptable for his sister-in-law, why was it fine for the townspeople?

"Why don't you look just a little more displeased-" Nesta began, but Feyre cut her off by yanking her arm toward the door. Rhysand snapped and her suitcase disappeared, and she felt like she was going to fly off the handle.

"I could have carried it," she complained.

"Just fucking say thank you, for once," Rhysand said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He truly didn't get it. Everything came so easy for him that he couldn't possibly understand why someone might want to do things on their own when he could just snap and fix it for them.

"Meet me at home," Feyre scolded him, grabbing Nesta's hand and winnowing them both to the House of Wind. Nesta stumbled as they landed, fighting the urge to vomit. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to that sensation.

"Hey there, roomie," Azriel smirked from where he stood in the kitchen.

Nesta bellowed in frustration, trying to pull her suitcase down the hallway to her new room. The wheels kept twisting the wrong ways, and she got so frustrated that she just kicked the damn thing, sliding down the wall and burying her head in her hands.

"What'd I say?!" Azriel protested.

Gods, she wasn't going to make it out of this alive.

Her suitcase moved, and she opened her eyes to see Cassian holding the handle, reaching a hand down to her to help her up. She glared at him, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her forehead there. Tears leaked from her eyes and she refused to let anyone else see them. This was utterly ridiculous, and she was a fool for crying. She heard her suitcase rolling down the hallway, and couldn't even be bothered anymore. She wasn't sure how long she sat there feeling pathetic, but she eventually peeled herself from the wall and found her bedroom, where Cassian had placed her suitcase neatly at the foot of the bed.

Sniffling, Nesta fled to the bathroom and cranked on the faucet, running herself a bath. She used the best-smelling soaps she could find- and there was no shortage of options- but even that didn't relax the muscles in her shoulders and back. She'd just gotten used to her apartment and was now forced to sleep in another unfamiliar environment, and a much less cozy one, at that.

Nesta had always struggled with sleeping in new places and she knew tonight would be no exception to this rule. Her sister must have conveniently forgotten this about her sister when evicting her from the only place she'd been able to call her own. Even if Rhysand was the one paying for it. She knew it was ungrateful, but the High Lord would never even notice the dent in his accounts if he hadn't hated her so much. I mean, gods, look at the house he'd built Feyre- because the townhouse and House of Wind just wasn't enough.

Thinking of the people back in her village on the verge of starvation, a place like this made her head hurt. It was such unnecessary lavishness, and she couldn't help but loathe it all. To hate her sister and all of her new handsome friends. They were all out of touch. Had Feyre not seen the way they all looked at Nesta? They looked at her like something that had been packed by mistake or like they despised her for existing. How was she to approach their get-togethers with anything more than bitterness? She'd never fit in here- Rhysand made quite sure of that.

She tried to sleep for an hour or so, but eventually gave up and wandered into the kitchen in hopes of finding something to eat. Her stomach was grumbling painfully, and she'd finally caved into being willing to accept any food from the house. She creaked open a cabinet, balancing on her tiptoes to reach a bowl on the very top shelf.

"Well if you're going to be wearing things like that around the House, I'm even luckier than I thought," a deep voice came from behind her. She gasped, jerking back. The bowl tipped off the top shelf and headed straight for the floor. Nesta flinched, covering her face with her hands, but no crash came. When she opened her eyes, she found Azriel holding the bowl out for her, only a foot away from her. She could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin.

He was shirtless in pajama pants that sat low enough on his hips to reveal the dark trail of hair that disappeared-

He cleared his throat. She jumped again, quickly taking the bowl and turning away from him. He chuckled, and the sound made goosebumps spread across her flesh. The smell of him was intoxicating. Her stomach tightened. Azriel took a step closer, her back to his chest as he ran a finger slowly under the strap of her nightshirt. Her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily.

"Cassian might have been right about you," he murmured close to her ear. She could feel his breath as he spoke, and it made her feel drunk with something sweet and forbidden.

"Wha-" She cleared her throat awkwardly. "What did he say?"

Azriel hummed, stepping to the side to grab something from the cupboard above her head. She turned to look up at him as he towered over her. He gave her a wicked smirk, his eyes glimmering with something playful and dark.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he grinned, flicking the tip of her nose with his finger before turning and walking back toward his own bedroom. Nesta stared after him, entirely dumbfounded. "Goodnight, Nes."

She shook her head, trying to understand what had just happened. Why had she let him get near her like that? Gods, why had she reacted the way she did? It was like she didn't have control of her own body. Growling, she fixed herself food and stomped back to her bedroom, locking herself in for the night.