#dsfbjkdbfkal

[nesquik-arccheron]

Nesta is afraid of heights and Cassian happens to be the one there to comfort her.

I’m so nervous/excited to have completed my first prompt! I didn’t realize how hard it was to take a simple idea and make into a story, so I pray I did it justice. I’m not sure if this is what you were expecting anon, but I hope you enjoy! :)

I also did not tag anyone from my main tag list, because I was unsure if people wanted to be tagged in prompts.

AO3 Link

TW: For description of a panic attack.

Fall was Nesta’s favourite time of year. While most people hated the way the days grew shorter, the sun finding its peace below the horizon before five, she loved the excuse to stay in. She enjoyed watching as the leaves changed colour and the weather turned cooler, content to be wrapped tight in her warm cotton blanket by her bedroom window until the scorching heat of summer returned.

Though the eldest Archeron sister preferred to take refuge behind the solid oak of her bedroom door during the colder months, finding comfort between the pages of a well-worn book, there was one thing that could pull her away from her safe haven. The local fair.

She loved the excuse to sample the most disgustingly greasy foods known to man, licking the fatty residue off her fingers before stalking down the endless rows of booths, piled high with every seasonal sweet and tooth-rotting candy there was. All things she allowed herself to indulge in without restraint once every calendar year.

There were concerts and one-man bands, competitions for the largest pumpkin and plumpest pig. Attractions that made your stomach lurch with each loop and spin and places to get that much dreamed about tramp stamp sprayed onto your lower back. There was face painting and magicians for the little ones, and time spent with friends.

It was everything she enjoyed about the autumn season, a day she and her sisters would spend devouring every inch of the grounds, wasting a large sum of their hard earned cash on games they would never win and cotton candy that turned their mouths bright shades of pink and blue.

It was set up to be the perfect day. The local schools taking the Friday off to let sugar crazed Middle Schoolers and hormone hazed High Schoolers run wild through the fairgrounds, her sisters by her side, wrapped in warm hats and fuzzy scarfs as they picked out where they would explore first.

Yes, in theory, it was the recipe for the perfect day. They had just sat down, all three girls huddled at a picnic bench in the food court, discussing their plans and sipping on hot apple cider, when out of the corner of her eye, Nesta spotted a small group approaching them.

She could feel her blood pressure spike at the sight. One look at her youngest sister and Nesta knew she had seen them too. The guilty smile Feyre sent her way was enough evidence to let her know she wasn’t surprised by the arrival of the seemingly unexpected guests. Elain said nothing, face neutral, ever the peacemaker. Nesta narrowed her eyes at them accusingly, “You didn’t.”

Feyre at least had it in her to look ashamed as her boyfriend slid onto the bench beside her, placing a kiss on her cheek in greeting, “Hello, Feyre darling.”

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” she sighed, leaning into Rhys.

“In what timeline would I not be?” She mumbled, voice falling on deaf ears.

It wasn’t Rhyand’s presence that perturbed her, okay, well not just him alone, but it was what he brought along with him. A large, overtly loud and annoying brute of a football player that didn’t know the meaning of personal space or -

“Hello, Nes,” An amused voice sounded from her left, breath hot in her ear. She didn’t need to turn to know who it belonged to.

Cassian Castillo, her arch enemy.

Okay, arch enemy may seem a little dramatic on her part, but it was the closest thing she had to one. Cassian was the star football player at Velaris High School, he was the walking, talking definition of Tall, Dark and Handsome, with an emphasis on the tall part. She hated how he towered over her 5’6” frame, more so when they argued, using his height as a physical advantage when she was beating him down verbally. His height was the only weapon against her sharp tongue, and she liked to think she brought him down an inch every time they spared.

It was no secret how much the two hated each other, their arguments legendary throughout the years. There were times when they even forgot why they continued this dance, one they had started in public school and straight through to their senior year. There were rumours, of course, some elaborate stories of how they became enemies, some even questioning if they were secretly dating and fought to distract from their relationship.

It wasn’t true of course, Nesta would rather go her entire life alone than have to settle for that handsome, annoyingly large, idiotic brute, no matter how attractive he was. No matter how much she couldn’t help but watch his muscles ripple under the tight maroon sweater he wore. A colour she swore was created just for him. Fuck.

Nesta cleared her throat, distracting herself from her less than neutral thoughts, “It’s one thing to invite that one, but must he bring his pet?” She said gesturing to Cassian, the boy in question forcing his large body in beside hers on the too small picnic bench. Azriel chuckled but kept quiet. She liked him the most out of the three brothers, though it didn’t account for much, as she was never a fan of Feyre’s boyfriend.

“I just thought it would be nice, to spend one more day together before you guys graduate in the spring,” Feyre pouted, trying to appeal to her sister's more nostalgic side. It wasn’t working, she wouldn’t let it, but there wasn’t much point in fighting about it now.

Nesta gave a disgruntled moan, taking a hesitant slip of her hot beverage, and trying to ignore the man child beside her. “I’m thinking we head for the rides, the line for the Fireball is going to be packed before noon.”

“Why the Fireball?” Elain asked.

Cassian smiled, “We go through the ride multiple times to see who vomits their guts out first,” he explained cheerily, “We need to get there before we eat, Rhysie boy here has a weak stomach, I’m just doing my brotherly duty and giving him a fighting chance.”

“Need we remind you who lost that bet the previous year,” Azriel advised.

“I had the flu, doesn’t count,” Cassian said, giving him the finger. Mature.

“It did the year you dragged me here when I had food positing,” Rhysand grunted, taking a drink of the cider Feyre offered him.

“As I said, weak stomach,” Cassian said, as if that explained everything. “Now come on, I want to go around on each ride before the end of the day, so we better get going,” he urged, taking the rest of Nesta’s drink and chugging it in one go, “Oh, that’s good.”

“Thanks, wouldn’t know,” she glared, fists balling. She had only ad a few sips, waiting for the liquid to cool before she drank it. Gods, she hated him.

She did not argue, as it was an overall vote to head for the attractions. The sisters, minus Feyre who rode the roller coaster once, watched them as they went around and around, until Rhysand came off the ride, vomiting onto the cement at his girlfriend's feet.

Cassian cheered as Azriel spit up into the trash can and declared himself the winner, offering his cheek to Nesta, “A kiss for the champion?” he asked her. He pouted as he rubbed his cheek, the only kiss he earned being one at the receiving end of her palm.

The entirety of the day played out much the same. Feyre and Rhysand making googly eyes at each other, holding hands and sharing multiple kisses that made the group gag. Elain and Azriel walked along behind in comfortable silence, Azriel even winning Elain and stuff minion, which earned him an awkward smile from her sister. There was a time when they may have gotten together, but what may have been romance blossomed into a beautiful friendship. She was grateful for that, it was bad enough Azriel was romancing one of her best friends, she didn’t need another prospected brother-in-law from this family.

At the tail end were Nesta and Cassian, the leftovers, arguing over everything from what ride was next on the list, to the booths and stalls they would visit, to even what foods they would consume. Even something as simple as the bathroom breaks were fought over. Every opportunity to disagree, to get in each other’s face was taken, and it was driving the rest of them mad.

It was around 8 pm when the sun began to set below the horizon, the lights from the attractions blocking out the stars above in their hazy, colourful glow. It was then that Rhysand suggested the Ferries Wheel. Nesta felt her blood grow cold and chest tighten at the mention of that dreadful ride. Not much ruffled Nesta, she was the personification of composed in almost any situation, unmoveable.

It was the threat of being more than a few metres off the ground that caused her body to respond in a way that even she couldn’t control.

She had never told anyone about her phobia, preferring to bury it deep down, along with all of her other insecurities. Some would call it avoidance, Nesta would call it self-preservation. Her parents, sisters, nor her two best friends were privy to her deep-rooted fear. So when Rhys suggested they all take a ride, Nesta’s body went into lockdown, brain wired to do anything and everything to protect itself.

“I think I’ll pass,” Nesta told the group as they approached the indomitable steel demon. Even just the look of it made her stomach flip with anxiety.

“Awww, come on Nessie, it’s just a Ferris Wheel, you’ve only been on two rides,” Cassian taunted, slinging an arm around her. She had refused to go on any rides that propelled them into the air, giving no logical explanation to her dismissal. Apparently, she was so unpleasant to be around, that it didn’t take much more than a few choice words and an annoyed glare to get them off her back. This would be no different.

“I won't waste my money or time circling on an overpriced eyesore, I’m perfectly fine on the ground,” she protested, a little too specific if Cassian’s look said anything.

He raised an eyebrow, “Scared Nes?” the excitement in his voice was prominent, the enjoyment of finding any weakness in her armour amusing him. She bristled.

Feyre on the other hand, looked irritated, “It’s just the Ferris Wheel Nesta, come join us or someone will be paired with a stranger,” she whined.

“I don’t want to, Feyre,” she said through clenched teeth. Rhys was about to tell her it was fine, that they could move along, when Feyre stomped cross the space between them.

“A word,” she said, face beat red as she dragged her off to the side a few feet from the ears of the group.

Feyre turned to face her as they stopped, “Nesta, please, I think Rhys is going to give me a promise ring, and I want it to be romantic, so please, just get on the ride, you can deal with Cassian for a few minutes!”

Nesta huffed, crossing her arms in a physical form of protection against an invisible enemy, “Why does it matter if I’m on the ride, he isn’t fucking proposing to me,” she shot back.

“Cassian wants to ride and I want this to be as painless as possible for all of us,” Feyre explained, taking a calming breath. “Cassian and Azriel are too big to fit in one seat, and he and Elain are finally back on talking terms after that entire shit show with Gwyn,” her sister went on, face growing redder with every word.

“Besides, you owe me,” she announced, holding up a hand to stop the older from speaking, “You both have been arguing all day, ruining it for everyone. Hell, the fighting has been non-stop since you were ten, and we have all had to put up with it. So I just need you to do this for me, keep Cassian occupied so I can have my moment with my boyfriend.”

Nesta looked away and back at her sister, mulling over her options. She loved her sister, wanted her to be happy and have her teenage romance. But, she didn’t want her to have it at the expense of her own sanity.

“Nesta, please,” Feyre begged, giving her sister her best puppy dog eyes, and Nesta broke. Just like Feyre knew she would.

By the time the two girls made it back to the group, it was their time to board. Feyre and Rhys were the first to be seated along with Elain and Azriel right behind them. Nesta and Cassian were last, taking occupancy three seats behind their siblings. She was thankful for that. Now if only Cassian would not be the one bearing witness to her inevitable breakdown.

But she steeled herself like she always did, pushing any uncontrolled emotions down that threatened to burst through her shields, begging for release. She was a rock, an island, solid, unmoveable. She would not break.

She felt a surge of pride zip through her as she sat down on the worn seat of the death machine, her heart a steady rhythm in her chest as she made herself as comfortable as she could beside the overbearing male beside her. He took up far too much room in the tiny space, their sides flush against each other’s, but she did not falter. It wasn’t until she heard the click of the safety bar fall into place that her confidence wavered, the sound alone sending an electric shock through every nerve ending. It made her feel claustrophobic, trapped, and she gripped the bar slowly, tightly, looking for anything to keep her hands from visibly shaking.

She knew she was done for when the ride picked up, launching them skyward. If she weren’t so petrified, she could admire the view, the lights, the stars, the moon taking its place in the sky above them. It was no wonder Rhys wanted to use the Ferris Wheel as the backdrop for their horrid display, it was shamelessly romantic.

The first turn was bearable, Cassian chattering on in her ear, Nesta ignoring him, attempting to keep herself from vomiting over the side of the ride onto unsuspecting victims. The second she could feel her body locking up, her lungs constricting under the weight of her bubbling fear. The third was the worst, and Nesta swore she would surely die as they reached the top of the ride. And stopped.

—————————

It was hard for people to believe that Cassian enjoyed the Ferris Wheel. He was a thrill seeker by nature, just like on the football field, he loved to follow the adrenaline rush of the faster, more heart stopping attractions. Gravitating towards those that left your throat sore from screaming and your stomach nauseous from the continuous loops. The more terrifying and neck breaking the better.

So it seemed unusual that he would appreciate the milder ride, but like in his everyday life, he needed a moment of calm. The gentle sway of the flimsy seat relaxed him, the lights and music below fading into a pleasant hum in the background of his thoughts as they continued their circle of the wheel. He didn’t mind having a one sided conversation with himself, but was surprised that the girl beside him did not respond to his incessant babbling, or his snide remarks he so often baited her with. He was always itching to face that fiery untamed anger of hers. She had never made it a secret her dislike of him, but she was always prepared for a fight, ready with hackles raised and a long list of rather colourful insults that would make even him flinch, but she continued to stay eerily quiet.

He assumed Nesta’s out of character attitude was due to the forced proximity, she had protested so valiantly that he had become somewhat embarrassed of how adamant she was about distancing herself from him. He had showered that morning, put cologne and deodorant on, so he defiantly didn’t stink. Even over the years of shared insults and violent arguments, he never thought he was that repulsive.

It wasn’t until the ride had come to a complete stop at the very top did he hear the sharp intake of breath, followed by a slow, controlled exhale from his right. It almost sounded like she was in pain, injured, but there were no threats here, had she hurt herself before getting on the ride, was she bleeding, did she need medical attention?

“Nesta?” He asked, shuffling, causing the steel basket they occupied to swing slightly. The whimper of anguish that escaped her had every inch of him on high alert. He surveyed her, trying to get a glimpse of any outward representation of what was hurting her, but he found none. Physically, she was fine.

Cassian paused, looking at her from a different perspective. He noted her hands, clenched to the safety bar, body hunched in an attempt to make herself smaller, her protection instincts kicking in. He watched her body shake from the force of her terror and tuned into every strangled breath and wheezing exhale she produced. She was trying to control her breathing, or lack thereof, as it seemed she was almost holding her breath to keep from screaming out in fear. And he knew that if he could see her face, her eyes would be dilated, hyper fixated on anything that would keep her from completely detaching herself from reality.

Cassian felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest as he fully took her in. The urge to wrap her in his arms was overpowering, to defend her against any threat, but there was no physical danger to her, and he felt helpless. How had she made it through seventeen years of her life and not let anyone know that she was petrified of heights? Was Nesta truly so scared, so distrustful of others, that she never allowed anyone, even her own sisters, to see her weak spots? Had she never confided in anyone her biggest fears?

He watched her knuckles turn white as they gripped the bar in front of her like a tether, something to ground her, remind her that there was something between her and the ground below.

Without a second thought, Cassian attempted to angel himself better without rocking the seat. He did not wish to spook her further, but the need to be closer, to comfort, was so strong that he couldn’t stifle the urge to touch.

“Nesta,” he whispered, trying to pull her attention from her fear to him. He tried twice more to get her attention before raising his hand and gently placing it on her back. Her lack of reception to his touch unnerved him, eyes still transfixed on the ground as her body continued to rattle violently. “Nesta, look at me,” he said firmly, the tone of his voice low, deeper than anything she had heard, a commanding hardness lacing each word.

Her reaction was immediate, head turning to face him at the command, clearly shocked by the control in it, but it had done its job and diverted her attention to him. She didn’t fight him as he wrapped an arm around her, unhooking her hands from the bar and watching as they trembled in his grip. Cassian held her writs in his palm, rubbing gently over her racing pulse point, in slow soothing circles. He could see the trepidation in her eyes, and wondered if Nesta heard his words at all or was just reacting to the tone of his voice.

“You need to breathe, Sweetheart,” he urged, keeping his voice calm and steady, trying to balance the panic in his own voice to sound authoritative enough that she would listen and react, silently praying that the Ferris Wheel would send them back down to the ground, removing the centre of her stress.

He could feel her fist clench in his grasp and allowed her to grip onto his shirt, something to anchor herself in reality, and held her close, trying to think of anything he could do to help her against the invisible enemy. Her breathing was still coming out in strangled gasps and Cassian was growing more concerned every second they did not move. “Nesta, breathe, just breath, in- and out,” he instructed, repeating the order and coaching her every breath to bring her heartbeat back to normal. “Breathe in- breathe out-, breathe in-, breathe out,” he continued, keeping his instructions simple and his voice steady as he guided her breathing. She was surprisingly receptive to his orders, mimicking his actions and taking in his scent with each inhale.

It was minutes of the repeated motions before her breathing began to slow. Cassian had not once stopped his coaching, rubbing her pulse point and allowing her body to relax against his once her muscles released the majority of the tension she was holding.

Nesta felt her emotions too keenly, even minimal ones were amped up to the highest extremes, to heights he didn’t think just one person could rightfully handle. Even her sense of fear.

“Nesta, look at me,” he told her, needing to gauge her current state.

“Cassian…” She acknowledged him, and he could see her brain trying to come up with an excuse for her actions, obviously embarrassed by the entire ordeal. Even this she couldn’t help but fight about. He cut her off before she could continue. She needed to calm down, not ramp herself back up.

“Don’t talk, just focus on me, on my touch, on my voice, nothing else,” he told her, bringing her closer to his body, to his own steady heartbeat, “Nothing else matters, just you and me and here and now.” The encouragement seemed to help as she did not fight him, did not question his reasoning or intentions and did as she was told while he talked her through it. He had never done this before, but she was reacting positively to his actions, and he wouldn’t let go until she pushed him away.

“It’s beautiful up here, the lights,” he went on, giving her something to concentrate on, “Quiet, peaceful-“

“Not with you’re continuous chatter,” Nesta huffed out. Of course, the first words out of her mouth in minutes would be her telling him to shut up. He enjoyed her bite, but never so much as he did right now.

He felt her tense again as the Ferris Wheel lurched back into motion, not coming to a complete end, but instead sending them on a prospective five more loops. It granted Nesta some time to collect herself, not entirely, but enough to allow her to come back from the sense of detachment she was currently feeling. Just enough for her to shield her panic behind the mask of interference she so often wore, unwilling to permit anyone else to see her in such a state.

Her skin was cold and clammy, and the baby hairs by her temples were wet with perspiration and sticking to her skin. She kept her eyes closed and hands clenched in his sweater as he rubbed her back in slow even circles, noting the shudders that racked her body were now few and far between. There was almost no gap between them, his focus entirely on her and her comfort, but he enjoyed the fresh scent coming off her hair anyway.

He remained a silent but strong presence, feeling her breathing evening out and wanting her to have a moment where she could regulate herself, to stand on her own two feet like he knew she was desperately trying to do. It was so important to this girl to have the ability to face everyone once the ride stopped, head held high with none the wiser to her discomfort. For she was too proud to show them this weakness, and he wouldn't force her to confront them.

He offered her the dignity of pulling away from her before the ride came to a complete stop, watching as she forced that mask of pure nonchalance onto her face with more difficulty than he had ever seen, but her eyes were what gave her away. Slightly glossed over and blinking continue to force the back the tears that threatened to expose her. She didn’t say a word as she exited, not once looking at his face.

“Are you okay?” Cassian questioned, quickly following behind her towards the group waiting for them a few feet away. Feyre and Elain squealing with delight. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he told her. Wrong thing to say, but he realized it too late. Proud bitch, he thought.

“I’m not,” she growled, whirling around and blocking his path as they made their way down from the ride, “This never happened, and I will deny it if you ever bring it up, so if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your fat mouth shut.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Nesta, not for this,” Cassian confirmed, holding his hands up in surrender, his voice nothing but a whisper, “Never this.”

“Whatever,” was her only response as she scurried away, completely ignoring any reply that he might have given.

“Nesta!” Feyre yelled excitedly, waving her hand in the air, the shiny opal ring on her finger glittering in the light of the ride behind them, “Oh, Nesta, look at-“ but he was cut off as her sister rushed past her, ignoring both her sisters cries as they begged her to come back.

“Can you guys not go one minute without fighting?” Feyre sighed, turning to Cassian.

Cassian shrugged, watching Nesta’s retreating back, “What can I say, we just bring out the best in each other.”

He would never bring it up again if he didn't have to, would never use this display of weakness against her, something she went to great lengths to hide. It hurt to think she would prefer to lock away her fear than expose herself to even her closest friends, her family. Cassian thought it made her human, but all Nesta saw was a deficiency, a crack in her carefully sculpted armour.

And like her, he would never admit how his own heart skipped a beat as she clung to him, her small body wrapped around his for comfort in a way he had only dreamed about. How like her, Cassian would never admit out loud how he had, since that fateful day in fifth grade, falling for the girl who bit and snarled at him like a caged animal.

Like the secrets she kept so close to herself, he would keep this too.

#i’m more nervous then i should be to post this #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #cassian #nesta archeron #Confusedfandomslut #my prompts #dsfbjkdbfkal #i hope you like it #i wrote half of it in Cassian’s pov #because i couldn’t do it in Nesta’s #over 5k #under 10k