#nessian drabbles

[surielstea]

Words on Paper

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s jealous over a male in your book and it’s hilarious.

Warnings: Just fluff, short Drabble :)

1k words

You and Nesta hadn't shut up about the men in your books all morning. The new Sellyn Drake novel had come out less than a week ago and the both of you couldn't stop raving about it, you swore you had dreams about the characters, and when you weren't caught up in the plot you were analyzing the characters, the male love interest specifically who Nesta and you were all but frothing at the mouth over.

"I need him, unfortunately," Nesta sighed, looking over to me as we held our planks. Valkyrie training seemed to go a lot faster when the both of you got the chance to debrief over chapters and share what you were passionate about, Cassian didn't seem to care as long as we stayed on task and kept up with the movements.

The exercises had become second nature to the both of you, sure it wasn't as mindless as breathing but after it's been part of your routine for weeks it truly does come naturally, like a second language that only the two of you can speak.

Azriel was slow to insanity at this point. He couldn't seem to adjust to the idea of you taking interest in anyone but him. With Mates, the rule is that if the bond is accepted then there's no one else for that person, intertwined by fate.

So why was he so irritated when you rambled too long about a guy from a book?

"Are you two working out your mouths too?" Azriel stands above you, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, you look up at him with a wide grin. "Sorry, sir," you tease. Nesta shakes her head in exasperation and you giggle.

It took one minute of silence until Nesta and you were whispering amongst each other again.

Azriel seems to have given up days ago, his eyes narrowed at you from across the sparring mats, Cassian next to him as they drink their waters.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Azriel asks his brother, continuing to stare at both of their mates. “Does what?” Cassian turned to him with an arched brow. “That they’re so obsessed with those men from their little smut novels,” Azriel mutters and Cassian nearly laughs at the death glare the Shadow Singer was saving for the fictional male, who as of late was threatening to take his wife away.

“It’s just words on paper,” Cass shrugs, bending down to place his water on the ground. “I know but, the idea of her wanting anyone else gets under my skin,” Azriel argues and this time Cassian does laugh, it was so odd to see the revered Spymaster so torn up about some guy, who wasn’t even real. “What’re you jealous of him?” Cassian scoffs through his laughter. Azriel rolls his eyes and puts his water down. “Whatever, just don’t come crying when you can’t satisfy Nesta anymore,” He grumbled.

“I doubt that day will come,” Nesta hums from behind the Shadow Singer. He knew she was there, you with her, but he needed to get his point across. “Hey hun, you ready to go?” You dip under his arm, placing a hand on his bare chest. He only nodded in reply.

“Hey, remember what I said, it’s just words Az,” Cassian said before you got the chance to winnow him away, he nodded once more then you took him home.

You didn’t want to know what the General was going on about, you could tell from training Azriel was a little irritated but you couldn’t remember doing anything to irk him.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just keep pouting like a baby?” You ask and he scowls down at you. You smile, hands coming to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he barely has time to reciprocate it before you’re pulling away.

“What’s got you so tense?” You smush his cheeks together and he just stares at you in reply, so you begin to guess. “Something Cass did?” You ask and he shakes his head no. “Something I did?” He doesn’t move and you deflate, flinging your arms over his shoulders and melting into him. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong, please?” You sigh into his neck, already admitting defeat. “Do you like him more than me?” He blurts and you stiffen, pulling away to look up at him confused. “Like who?” You utter. “The guy in your stupid book,” He grumbled and you openly cackled before slapping a hand over your lips. “It’s not funny,” He groans backing away from your touch and plopping down onto the sofa, where he could sulk in peace. “I know, I’m sorry Az,” You say, taking deep breaths to control your giggles. “I’m just saying, what does he have that I don’t?” He frowns and you walk over to him, sprawling over his lap and straddling his hips. “Perhaps a control on his emotions?” You tease and he grumbles beneath his breath like a child, looking away from you.

It was true that Azriel was quite explosive. One would think he’d be less reactive as the Spymaster and yet he might’ve been the quickest to action out of all the inner circle. It was a weakness, something he was working on. It was rude of you to point it out but you make up for it by peppering a line of loving kisses up the side of his face.

“I love you, okay? Only you,” You reassure. “Those men, they’re meant to be thirsted over, you understand that don’t you?” You ask and the male nods. “I just don’t want you wanting anyone else,” He looks at me and my grin widens. “Awh, Az,” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “I’m all yours, don’t worry,” You muffle into his neck. “Yeah? All mine?” He asks and you nod rapidly before saying, “Promise,”

“Now stop acting like a big baby,” you pull away from the hug and hold his face in your hands. “I’m gonna go bathe, you gonna keep moping out here or do you wanna join me?” You tease. He doesn’t answer and instead picks you up from where you sit and walks you straight to the bathing chambers.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe

#suriels tea #drabble #acotar #fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #azriel #request #acomaf #bat boys #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #x you fluff #x you #acotar fluff #x reader fluff #fluff #reader insert #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #1k words #fanfiction #x reader acotar #acotar fic

[throneofsapphics]

a present 

Nessian x f!Reader 

Summary: “Take if off” with Nessian 

Warnings: smut, oral (f!receiving), minors dni please!

A/N: for this!

“You’ll watch us tonight,” Nesta told Cassian, the door opening and shutting as the two entered. 

The words caught your attention, and you quickly finished the paragraph of the book you were reading - it wasn’t that interesting in comparison, closing it to see her cover your line of sight, the arches of Cassian’s wings visible beyond her. Winking at you, before sliding between you and the headboard, shifting you between your legs, you noticed hair was already loose from its usual crown.  

“If that’s alright with you, love,” she murmured in your ear. 

You twisted to meet her eyes, noting the mischievous glint, and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Of course.” 

Generally, Nesta’s schemes against Cassian, especially to tease him, ended rather well for you. 

Her fingers gathered the edges of your nightgown. She slowly slid the fabric up, unveiling you like a present for him. She’d stop every few inches, run her fingers back and forth over her skin, use her thumbs to rub circles into zones you didn’t know could be erogenous. 

Cassian broke his silent observing just as her hands reached your stomach. “Take it off,” he growled from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and visibly struggling with restraint. “Please, Nes,” he added when her hands stopped. 

“I thought I said you’d be watching,” she teased, and he threw his head back in a groan. 

“Don’t make him suffer too long, love,” you cut in. And make you suffer, you left unsaid. 

Nesta hummed, but quickly slid the rest of the fabric up and over your shoulders, tossing it to the side. One hand slid under your thigh, pulling your leg up over hers, leaving you very exposed, and you heard Cassian’s breathing pick up. 

A cool breeze brushed right against your core, dragging a whimper from you. Nesta let out a low laugh, and you yelped as she dragged your other leg over hers, spreading her knees as far as you could handle. 

“You want a taste?” She asked Cassian, her voice a low purr. 

He didn’t bother answering her, instead crossed the room in a few strides, before kneeling between your legs. 

Hazel eyes found yours, searching for permission, all you could manage - with Nesta’s fingers now twisting and pinching your nipples - was a nod and a breathy “yes,” it was enough for Cassian. 

One hand parting your folds, he dragged his tongue up your center, pausing at the apex of your thighs, “fuck you taste incredible,” he moaned. 

You wiggled your hips as much as you could, trying to push yourself against his mouth. He laughed, one hand coming up to pin your hips back against Nesta. One finger teased against your entrance in painfully slow circles, and you couldn’t have pressed forward if you wanted to, now that Nesta had one arm across your lower stomach in an iron grip. 

What started as something fun to tease Cassian was quickly turning back on you. In reality, the teasing probably lasted less than five minutes but with the pressure slowly building in your stomach it felt like years. 

“Am I going to have to do it for you?” Nesta taunted him. 

He snarled, at the idea of you being taken away from him, but finally started pushing you towards relief. Your attempted thanks to Nesta was drowned out by the moans falling from your lips. 

You didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed with how quickly you finished, his fingers curving to hit the perfect spot, teeth nipping at your clit. Cassian slowed his movements as you rode out your orgasm, Nesta whispering praises in your ear. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Nesta murmured after you managed to regain some control of your breathing, your legs still shaking. 

Cassian’s arms slid between the two of you, snatching you from her - he was already halfway to the bath, one you heard the house start to run, before Nesta’s indignant yelp could be heard. 

“She’ll get back at you for this,” you mumbled, head against his chest. For some reason, one of Nesta’s favorite little things was to carry you off towards a bath after. The two of you would joke it’s because she ‘couldn’t do it to that big oaf,’ but you both knew she liked to take care of you. 

“And you’ll keep benefiting from it,” he pressed a kiss against your forehead.

The House was undeniably on Nesta’s side, considering the water was ice cold when Cassian dipped his fingers in to test it. 

“That’s what you get,” Nesta said from the doorway. 

#nessian x reader #nessian x y/n #nesta archeron x reader #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #nesta archeron x y/n #nesta x y/n #acotar drabble #acotar x reader #poly!nessian #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #acotar smut

[theladyofdeath]

Anxious & Bewitched {nessian}

Ship: Nesta x Cassian Summary: College AU; Nesta loses a bet and has to go on a date with Cassian to a haunted corn maze. T/W: None; Fluff

Written with @snelbz

As Nesta opened the passenger side door and dropped from the cab of the truck, a chill breeze had her tucking her hands into the folds of her thick sweater.

The driver-side door closed behind her and she took a deep breath.

She had no reason to be nervous. There was no reason to be nervous. It wasn’t the first time they’d hung out together, wasn’t even the first time it’d just been the two of them, without the rest of their friends. But this time… This time was different.

He appeared around the front of the truck. “I told you I’d come around to get your door.”

Reigning in the urge to roll her eyes, Nesta muttered, “Yeah, well, you were taking too long.”

He laughed, as he always did when he was clearly exasperated by her. She wondered if somewhere, deep down inside, Cassian secretly wanted to throttle her instead of being amused by her annoyance. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Most girls—” With one look shot in his direction, Cassian stopped speaking and cleared his throat. “Like corn mazes,” he finished, even though she knew damn well that wasn’t what he was going to say. “Do you?”

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t think anyone really enjoys corn mazes. We all just do them because it’s a tradition.”

“Glad to see you’re excited,” he muttered and shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked toward the ticket booth. “I hope you don’t get scared too easily. They say this is the scariest maze in the county.”

Nesta glanced at the setting sun, barely still in existence. She gave it fifteen minutes before they were in complete darkness. “Do I seem like someone who gets scared easily?”

They reached the front of the line, which saved Cassian from having to answer the loaded question and headed for where the festivities would be starting as soon as the sun fully set behind Ramiel in the distance.

“So,” Nesta began as she looked around at the stands and vendors around them. “I believe the stipulations were one dinner and one trip through the corn maze.”

“And apple cider after the maze,” Cassian reminded her with a wink. The bet they’d made last week over whether Azriel or Elain would earn a higher score on their English lit midterm had won Cassian a date with Nesta, after over a year of rejections. He would make it count.

Nesta’s dramatic sigh was mostly for show as she said, “Right, how could I forget? Where do we start?”

“Dinner?” He asked, gesturing to the stalls they paused before.

Chili, soup, and roasted chicken legs; kettle corn, funnel cake, and, of course, hot cider. The options were limitless and as Nesta’s stomach rumbled hungrily, she realized her appetite was as well. “I could eat.”

After a quick discussion over what they each wanted and whether or not it would count as a date if they weren’t eating the same thing, Cassian led Nesta to an open picnic table, placing her bowl of hearty tomato soup in front of her as she sat down. Rather than taking the seat across from her, Cassian sat next to her, the heat of his thigh against hers as he took a bite out of the massive chicken leg he’d decided on.

He ate like an animal and Nesta hated to admit that she found it oddly attractive. 

Nonetheless, she said, “You eat like a barbarian.”

“I eat like a man,” he corrected and nodded towards her soup. “Are you going to pretend to sip that thing like a lady instead of devouring it like you want to?”

The word devour from his lips sent a chill down her spine. She’d read too much smut.  

And yes, yes she was.

Nesta took her sweet time sipping her soup, just to spite him. He was finished in less than a minute but he waited patiently for her once his food was long gone. 

Half an hour passed before Nesta’s bowl was empty and by that time, the moon and the stars were shining brightly in the night sky. Cassian took care of their garbage and clapped his hands together as Nesta stood from the picnic table.

“Ready?”

She sighed, even as a whirlwind of anxiety and excitement swelled in the pit of her stomach. “I guess I don’t have a choice, right?”

His grin was intoxicating as he said, “Not at all.”

They lined up behind a group of high school students, Cassian recognizing the green and silver of their letterman jackets from the next town over, and sat in companionable silence as the teenagers planned how they’d make their way through the maze. They discussed who would lead, who was too scared and would walk in the middle, and who would bring up the rear, making sure those people from the middle wouldn’t fall behind.

Before they knew it, the excited giggles of the group became shrieks and howls of laughter as they meandered deeper into the maze.

Then it was their turn.

“After you, Nes,” Cassian said, gesturing to the long walkway ahead of them. It faded into nothing but darkness and he swore he heard her swallow before she turned to him.

“I don’t think so. This was your idea, so you get to go in first.”

The attendant rolled his eyes and held an arm out toward the entrance. “I’ve got a line and you’re backing it up. You can go in together.”

Nesta opened her mouth to protest but Cassian took her by the hand and pulled her into the maze. Before she could even catch her breath, they were enveloped in corn stalks, the shrieks and screams of others radiating around them.

Nesta’s body grew taut, so much so that she hadn’t even realized that her hand was still in Cassian’s until they turned their first corner.

“So,” he began, and she could see his smirk in the outline of the starlight, “not scared, huh?”

“I swear to the Cauldron, I will leave right now if you don’t shut up.” The words rushed out of her. She took a deep breath, then another. “I’m not scared. I’m just—”

A guy dressed as a bloodied up zombie jumped out of the cornstalks and Nesta screamed.

But it was Cassian that jumped nearly a foot in the air, a long string of profanity tumbling from his mouth.

Nesta stared at him.

Cassian, chest heaving, stared back.

Then, despite herself, Nesta laughed.

With an exasperated sigh, Cassian took Nesta’s hand again and dragged her away from the still snarling zombie.

“Holding my hand a little tight there, aren’t you?” She asked, once they had moved farther into the maze. He could hear the smile on her face, but didn’t look at her as they surged forward. “Don’t worry, Cass, I’ll keep you safe.”

A twig snapped at their backs and Nesta whirled, turning to face the…empty path behind them. Her eyes darted around, searching despite not seeing anyone or anything there.

A terrified scream from somewhere deeper within the maze had Nesta gasping and clutching onto Cassian’s arm with her free hand.

“I could say the same for you,” he snapped, and cursed when the sound of a chainsaw began to rev from somewhere in the maze. “I’m having a blast.”

“Me too,” she hissed, grounding herself in the warmth of his body. She had never felt so annoyed and so safe at the same time. Maybe if she closed her eyes, this whole experience would be so much more enjoyable. 

Ignoring the fact that she was clinging to Cassian for dear life, Nesta continued to make her way through the maze, wishing she was literally anywhere else every time they came to a dead end.

They had just gotten away from a psycho in a hockey mask when Cassian said, “I have no clue how to get out of here.”

Nesta looked down the creepy pathways before them. “I don’t either. Isn’t there some trick to getting out of mazes?”

Snapping his fingers, Cassian took her hand and began pulling her down the path to the right. “Right turns only.”

The psycho in the hockey mask was waiting around the next turn with the rest of his team.

“Why do you even like this stuff?” Cassian demanded as they stopped to catch their breath, warily looking around at the corn stalks, waiting for someone to jump out at them.

“I don’t,” Nesta replied, peeking around the corner, cringing at whatever she saw. “I hate it.”

When there was no response, Nesta glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting him to be gone. Instead, she found him staring at her.

“What do you mean you hate it,” he asked, eyes on hers.

“I mean, I hate getting scared,” she snapped, looking back around the corner. “Slashers and horror movies are the extent of my interest in being scared.”

He muttered under his breath, “I’m going to kill them.”

With her brow furrowed, Nesta turned to find him shaking his head. “Who?”

“Feyre, but I’m sure it was Rhys’s idea, too.” He stepped up behind her, finally seeing the clown standing in the middle of the path and stepped back. “When I asked her for an idea of what you’d want to do, she said you’d love this. That you love haunted houses.”

Nesta tried her best not to gape but couldn’t help herself. “She said what?”

Cassian just shook his head, dragging Nesta past the creepy ass clown. 

“You don’t like this, either?” She asked, when he said nothing. Cassian just shook his head, and Nesta scoffed. “Wow.”

“Being scared pisses me off,” he admitted. “Which, your sister knows.”

A realization hit Nesta as they turned yet another corner: he hated being scared, but he brought her here anyway.

Because he thought she would love it. 

She hadn’t realized she was staring at him until a second clown popped out of the stalks and Cassian’s hand gripped onto hers so tightly that it hurt.

Nothing else was said until they reached the end of the maze, just a few minutes later. There were no other big scares, nothing else to take any additional years off of Cassian’s life and he wished his sigh of relief when they finally walked out into the open air of the festival wasn’t as loud as it was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, beyond thankful that the entire ordeal was over and he’d made it out alive.

“Alright,” he said, exhaling one last time and looking towards the stalls. He’d seen someone selling hot cider when they’d first gotten here. “I could go for some cider. Honestly, I’m down for something stronger, if you are, but—”

A tug on his hand had him leaning down and then a warm kiss was pressed to his cheek.

For a moment, he stilled, thinking what had happened hadn’t just happened, but when he met her gaze, she almost looked as surprised as he was. Her eyes were wide and hesitant, glancing hectically between his eyes and his mouth. Cassian swallowed, scared to say or do anything to break whatever the hell was going on here. 

“Thank you,” she said, quietly but firmly, eyes locked on his. 

“For what?” he asked, blinking. “You were miserable.”

“So were you,” she agreed, and shook her head. “So, thank you.”

“I wanted you to have a good time,” he admitted, brushing his fingers against hers. “I didn’t want you to regret having said yes.”

Her fingers grazed his again, but then she laced them together. “Technically, I didn’t have a choice, since I did lose a bet after all,” she said, voice taking on a teasing tone before dropping back into something softer as she smiled. “But I’m glad I came. I’m glad I said yes, Cassian.”

She glanced down at their joined hands, squeezing his fingers once before she met his gaze. His eyes were already on her and he couldn’t help but stare in awe at how beautiful she was.

Blushing, Nesta cleared her throat. “So. You owe me a drink.”

Cassian hesitated. “Cider? Or…”

“Something stronger may be nice.” Nesta breathed a laugh and Cassian couldn’t help but smile. “Something to take the edge off.”

Cassian couldn’t deny that. He could use the same thing, something to take the edge off. “There’s a bar two miles up the road. I think it’s a biker bar, but it seems… Well, I’ll keep you safe.”

Nesta raised a brow. “Maybe I’m the one to keep you safe.”

Cassian sighed. “You can’t ever just say okay, can you?”

Nesta pretended to think about it. “No.”

Yet, with a wicked smile, she dragged him by his hand to the parking lot - which was nothing more than a field marked off with rope - until they were at his truck. Still holding her hand, Cassian opened the passenger side door and helped Nesta up inside before rounding the truck and climbing up behind the wheel. 

The ride to the corn maze had been okay. Conversation had been awkward. Not bad, but a little forced. The ride to the bar was nothing like that. It was brief, but by the time Cassian put the truck in park and cut the engine, he had Nesta dabbing at her eyes as she laughed at a story he was telling her about a prank he and Azriel had pulled on Rhys when they were in high school.

“To this day, he can’t stand the smell of tartar sauce,” he said, shaking his head as unbuckled his seatbelt.

She did the same, laughter still shaking her shoulders. “I don’t blame him, I don’t think I can think of it the same way either.”

With a grin, he opened the door, hopping down and rounded the truck. When he opened her door, he offered her his hand. “You waited this time.”

Her cheeks darkened just a bit, but her eyes sparkled as she said, “Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to take your chance to be a gentleman away.”

“Again,” he added.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Again.”

After taking his hand, Nesta hopped down from the cab and he locked the truck behind them as they made their way inside the bar. It was pretty busy but they managed to find a little table tucked into the back. 

“What’re you drinking?” Cassian asked after Nesta plopped onto the bench.

Nesta lifted a brow. “Surprise me.”

Cassian chuckled. “You trust me that much?”

“We’re about to find out,” Nesta crooned.

Suddenly nervous, Cassian made his way to the bar and waited for the bartender to find her way towards him. He took the time to decide what drink best represented Nesta Archeron.

In the end, he returned to the table with two drinks and two shot glasses.

“What’d you get?” She asked, eyeing the drinks as she set them on the table.

“Jack and Coke,” he said, hovering his hand over the first. Then the second. “Vodka cranberry.” Then he slid one of the shot glasses in front of her and took the other himself. “And a shot of tequila for us both, in case you hate either of those.” 

Grinning, she looked back at the drinks. “And if I want the Jack?”

“Then it looks like I’ll be having a pink drink tonight.”

Rolling her eyes, Nesta nudged the Jack and Coke closer to him and took the other. “I like both, but this is my favorite.” She picked up the shot glass and held it out to him. “Cheers.”

Clinking his glass against hers, Cassian tossed it back, before placing it top down on the table. He did his best not to make a face, but found himself chasing his shot with his drink. Blowing out a brisk breath, he asked, “So am I to assume that haunted corn mazes aren’t a part of your yearly Halloween traditions?”

Nesta shook her head, leaning back in her seat. “Absolutely not. I’ve never even been to a haunted house. Feyre and Elain used to try and get me to take them in high school, before they could drive, but I’ve never liked it.”

“Me either.” He drummed his fingers on the table next to his drink. “Why would I want to pay someone to scare me shitless?”

With a laugh, Nesta agreed. “What about you? Anything you do for Halloween every year?”

“Pumpkin carving. Hands down.”

Nesta scrunched her nose.

Cassian blinked. “Do you have…an issue with pumpkin carving?”

“It’s so messy,” she said, sipping from her drink. “And I hate the feeling of all the guts between my fingers. No, thank you.”

Cassian shakes his head, eyes narrowed in her direction. “What kind of person hates pumpkins? Who hurt you?”

“I like pumpkins.” Nesta laughed. “I just like them intact.” 

“You’re missing out,” he said, and his toe nudged hers until the table and lingered. “Maybe you should give it another try. Maybe you’ve done it wrong.”

“You’re very passionate about carving pumpkins,” Nesta chuckled.

“I prefer calling it pumpkin art, but yes I am.”

Nesta laughed again and Cassian stared at her in awe. It was nice to see her laugh, smile, be happy instead of glaring daggers in his direction.

He looked away from her, his finger circling the rim of his glass. “You could come over, one night this week, if you wanted. We could carve a couple pumpkins. I’ll handle the guts, all you’d have to do is the fun part.”

Raising her eyebrows, Nesta asked, “And what exactly is the fun part? The stabbing?” 

“That and realizing that what you carved looks absolutely nothing like what you planned.”

With a snort, Nesta asked, “I thought you said it was pumpkin art?”

“I did,” he replied with a shrug, but the corner of his mouth was lifted up in a smirk. “But I never said it was good art.”

Tipping her head back, Nesta laughed. When she was done, she brought her glass to her lips and took a drink. “I’d love that.”

Cassian was almost shocked by her revelation. “Yeah?” She nodded but Cassian tried not to get his hopes up too much. “How about Wednesday?”

Nesta slowly set her glass back down. For a second, she hesitated, but then she said, “I can do Wednesday.”

Nearly dropping his glass, Cassian stared across the table. She was not only on a date with him now, but agreed to another in only a few days time. 

Either he was dreaming…or she was already drunk.

Maybe a bit of both. 

After a few more drinks, Cassian glanced at the clock over the bar and saw that it was pushing midnight. “We should probably go. You said you work at nine?”

With a groan, Nesta nodded. She worked at the library on campus and the librarian was not lenient about tardiness and attendance. “Bright and early.”

Drumming his fingers on the table, Cassian stood. “I’ll pay our tab and we can get out of here.”

By the time he returned, Nesta had finished her drink and was slipping her purse over her head.

His hand fell to the small of her back as they left, the crack of pool balls and droning of the jukebox in the corner fading as they walked out the front door.

As soon as they were outside, Nesta shivered. “It’s definitely fall,” she said, tucking her hands under her arms.

With a laugh, Cassian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side, not letting himself second guess the move. “It’s almost like you should have worn that coat I mentioned when I picked you up.”

“I’d rather be cold than admit defeat,” she joked, but Cassian sensed there was a bit of truth to it, even as she leaned further into him. “Besides, you seem to like my lack of a coat.”

He did. “I wouldn’t like it if you were to die of hypothermia.”

Nesta snorted. “Once again, look who's being overdramatic.”

She let him open her door and help her into the truck, before it roared to life and he headed back into Velaris. On the ride back to her apartment, Nesta admitted she’d never been to a high school football game, much to Cassian’s dismay.

“What did you even do on Friday nights?” He demanded, glancing over at her as they stopped at a red light.

“Stayed in and read.” She said it like it should have been obvious, and honestly, it probably should have been.

“We’ll have to fix that, too,” Cassian said, just as the light turned green. “There’s nothing like being under those lights, the sounds of the game.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “There’s also nothing like curling up in bed with a good book.”

Cassian shook his head, amused. “You can’t tell me that reading is better than a real life experience.”

“Football is not a real life experience,” Nesta protested but that playfulness in her tone remained. “It’s a sport where people are either getting injured or praised way too much. Sometimes both.”

Cassian looked over to find her already watching him with the smallest of grins on her mouth. “So hateful.”

“I could say the same for you,” she crooned.

“Fine,” Cassian laughed. “You come with me to a game and I’ll read whatever book you give me.”

Eyebrows raising, Nesta asked, “Whatever book I give you? Any book of my choosing?”

“I already feel like I’m going to regret this, but yes.” Cassian pulled into the parking lot of Nesta’s building. “Any book of your choosing, as much or as little smut as you want.”

Nesta’s cheeks darkened. “I’ll start thinking then.”

He put the truck into park, looking over at her. “I can’t wait.”

The cab of the truck was silent, as her eyes met his. It felt quiet, intimate, safe. Softly, like speaking too loudly would shatter whatever was building between them, Nesta said, “I had fun tonight. Despite getting the shit scared out of me.”

“Me too,” Cassian agreed, hardly more than a whisper. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved.

The realization that Cassian had no idea what to do was daunting. He had never had trouble with women before but Nesta was a different breed. He’d waited years for this moment and now that it was here, he felt he was walking on glass and it would shatter beneath him at any given moment.

Nesta cleared her throat when the silence dragged on. “Should I get my door this time or…?”

That set Cassian in motion and by the time he rounded the truck and opened her door, she was doing her best — and failing — to hide her grin.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, taking her hand and helping her down.

Her laughter was quiet, but she didn’t let go of his hand as they headed up the stairs and to her door.

“So I’ll come over Wednesday?” She asked, and it was more than Cassian could have hoped for. He’d half expected her to change her mind, to pretend she forgot, and move on.

“Yes, I mean, yeah.” He was stumbling over his words and he cleared his throat. “I’ve got a bio chem lab that lets out at three, but I’m free anytime after that.”

“Then I’ll be there after three,” she said.

Cassian's hand tightened in hers as they stood on her doormat. “Sounds good.”

“Good.” With one last smile that had Cassian feeling weak, Nesta turned towards her door.

Before he could think twice, Cassian pulled on her hand and pulled her towards him until their mouths met, softly. He was still walking that line of caution even if caution was the last thing on his mind.

But she kissed him back, each touch sweet and gentle and nothing like he expected a kiss with her to be like, but far better.

He cupped her face, her lips soft and lush against his, and breathed in her scent before stepping back. The blush on her cheeks was beautiful, her eyes bright, and her breathing was shallow and quick. He wanted to kiss her again, something more than the quick meeting of their lips, but he forced himself to take another step back, to head towards his truck. “I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said, gaze locked on hers.

“Wednesday,” she repeated, voice soft, and unlocked her door. It opened with a creak and she stepped inside. “Goodnight, Cassian.”

The door closed and he was left staring at her autumn-themed wreath. So soft, there was no way she could have heard it, he breathed, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

#nessian #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #halloween #spooky season #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #fluff #drabble

[sadiegirl2021]

*Cassian and Nesta talking at the dining room table*

Nesta: I'm telling you, he's got a crush on her.

Cassian: There's no way! He would have told me. *Azriel joins them*

Nesta(whispering): Really! Watch this...

Nesta: Az, I'm going to get Gwyn a chocolate cake for her birthday.

Azriel(seemingly uninterested): Okay...

Cassian(mouthing at Nesta): See!

Azriel(smiling a little): ...But I think pistachio is a better choice. It's her favourite.

Nesta(mouthing at Cassian with a smirk): See!!

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #incorrect acotar quotes #Gwynriel drabble #nessian #pro nessian

[asnowfern]

Everything is fine when your hand is next to mine

A soft nessian drabble because that is all my completely exhausted being has the energy for.

WC: 743, Modern AU setting

The dread of realisation rose in Nesta with the increasing strength of the tidal waves. The ferry that transported them to the island was nothing more than a floating speck, helpless against the vast body of tumultuous water.

It was a short ride to the resort island that housed their team retreat: not even a mere hour.

While prone to often bouts of terrible nausea, Nesta’s seasickness had never devolved into the realms of vomiting. So she never found a need to medicate herself, choosing instead to rely on time trusted practice of a light meal and comfortable clothes that gave her chest and abdomen ample breathing room.

Though she had still hoped when she spotted the charcoal threat of cumulonimbus clouds in the faraway distance that it would wait the hour, not striking down its wrath until they had safely docked at shore. But alas, it was not to be - the waves grew just a little taller with each push and pull, the speed at which the ferry climbed and fell with the waves a jumbled inconsistent mess.

Nesta’s stomach lurched at the next descent and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth pursed into the slightest of an oval, pushing out a slow steady stream of air. Her meditative habits kicked in on instinct.

I am the rock against which-

Oh, for goodness sake. She couldn’t even complete the sentence without her abdomen clenching at the mere thought.

“Hey, Nes,” the voice dripping in pure swagger greeted as the cheap leather seat grumbled at the sudden weight.

Her brows knitted on its accord, annoyed. Nesta kept her eyes closed in pure refusal to acknowledge the business development executive. Maybe if she stayed quiet long enough, he would go away.

He didn’t.

He said nothing for a while, letting the little squeaks of leather alert her of his continued presence.

“Nes?”

“Now’s not the time, Cassian.” She sighed wearily, her jaw clenched as her belly threatened to push acidic bile up her throat. She took a shallow breath in and released a long shuddering exhale, forcing it under her control.

One, two, in.

One, two, out.

“You ok?”

One, two, in.

“I’m fine.”

One, two, out.

One, two, in.

“You don’t look fine.”

Silver blue eyes flew open as she whirled on him, snapping with the exhale, “Would you just leave me alone?”

It was uncalled for. It was rude but Nesta refused to backpedal even as something within her chastised her for chewing him off for no good reason. She ignored the voice and levelled a withering gaze at slightly widen hazel eyes, pretending not to notice the flash of hurt in them.

He slipped away when the moment broke, brushing her off with a wry smile that masked any other emotions, “I’ll be back later.”

And Nesta was alone again.

She fished her phone out of her bag to take note of the time - another thirty minutes to go, and sighed.

Leaning back into the seats, her knuckles turned white as her fingers gripped onto its handles. She forced it loose in hopes of loosening her tightening stomach. Her eyes stuttered shut and resumed her control of gated entry of air into her lungs.

Warm rough fingertips gently enveloped the back of her palms, rousing her from the fitful sleep she hadn’t realised she had fallen into. Dazed eyes drifted to the paper cup he extended to her, nothing but soft understanding on that ruggedly handsome face. Nesta accepted it wordlessly with a slight downward jerk of her chin, surprised at the heat from its papered surface. It was beyond her how he managed to find any hot drinks on this small transport ferry.

Cassian smiled and settled back into the seat next to her. Nesta lifted the edge of the cup to her lips, cautiously sipping its hot content. Immediately, a warmth spread in her chest and stomach. The gentle bitterness of the oolong tea soothed the churning.

Shifting her grip of the drinking receptacle to one hand, she slipped slender fingers over broad ones and soft palm over the back of the much larger hand.

“Thank you.”

His hand moved under hers, flipping so that their hands are clasped together. With the smallest of a smile gracing her lips, her shoulders relaxed into the seat and she let the comforting heat of his palm and the soothing presence to tie her through for the rest of the ride.

#nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian drabble #acotar #gosh life is sucking the life out of me

[separatist-apologist]

Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Mating bond snapped for Cassian and Nesta at the first dinner in the human lands (this was the prompt and this is still a drabble. A casual, very laid back 10k word drabble)

Note: MANAGE YOUR EXPECTATIONS

Read on AO3

“Do not embarrass me,” Rhysand snarled, eyes bouncing between Cassian and Azriel. Azriel remained stiff backed, his face all but carved from stone. Though Cassian felt the same apprehension radiating from Azriel’s rigid body, he forced himself to grin. 

“Lighten up, Rhys,” Cassian said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth. “If Feyre’s sisters are even half as lovely and charming as she is, I suspect we’ll have a good time.”

Azriel’s frown only deepened. It was Cassian’s favorite game to play—how many times could he suggest he was interested in Feyre before Rhys snapped and finally admitted he was in love with her? At least once more it seemed, as Rhys merely ran a hand through his inky hair, a cool expression on the High Lord’s face.

Dumbass, Cassian thought loudly before slamming the mental walls of his mind up. Rhys’s upper lip curled, violet eyes flashing with irritation.

“I mean it. They’re human and we’re…” “Their worst nightmare,” Azriel intoned flatly. Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, still smiling even as his gut clenched.

“That’s the spirit,” he said cheerfully. Someone had to keep the mood light though privately, Cassian was dreading this journey. He’d seen enough of Feyre and heard the ranting stories Rhys shared in private to know he had no interest in meeting either one of the Archeron sisters. At best they were neglectful and at worst, well…maybe he’d snap his teeth a little. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys ordered, reading Cassian’s thoughts. Whoops. He hadn’t meant to shout that so loudly. Azriel’s hazel eyes slid toward Cassian, one dark brow raised in question. Cassian shook out his hands.

“She’s just…so…young,” he finally said, unsure how else to word it. Sad, too, though there was no reason to rub salt in Rhys’s wounds. Rhys clenched his jaw and nodded. 

“We need them. Keep your fucking thoughts to yourself,” he ordered, magic lacing his every word. Both siphons on Cassian and Azriel’s hands flared in response, their knees buckling as they forced themselves to remain upright. Rhys wouldn’t make them bow but he would make them yield. 

There was no further conversation. Feyre sent word silently and Rhys’s expression immediately became one of yearning. Cassian and Azriel exchanged several glances on their way out the door. How did Feyre not notice? It was almost painful to watch, their dance one Cassian hoped never to participate in. 

Sometimes, when he stood too closely to the pair of them, he swore what shimmered between his brother and Feyre was the ever elusive mating bond. And that made him nervous, too. Cassian recalled when his hand brushed the back of Feyre’s some little electric shock convinced him to put space between them as something strange raked down his senses. Something old, something that made him distinctly uncomfortable. 

Feyre had gone ahead to plead with her sisters and her face told Cassian they’d agreed but reluctantly. Even now, Cassian wondered why they couldn’t do this simple thing for her. Why everything had to be so difficult for Feyre.

Such a fight. 

He wondered the entire flight over, trying to untangle the knot that had built in his chest. The strangest feeling of excitement and dread had built until he was all but crawling in his skin. He wanted to veer toward spring, to circle overhead until he learned what Tamlin was up to. Let Rhysand play courtier—that had never been Cassian’s strong suit to begin with.

But Cassian suspected Feyre wanted her old life to converge with her new one, and for that reason alone he landed on the sprawling lawn with as much care as he could manage. Azriel had far more grace though he carelessly trampled some carefully planted tulips as he made his way toward the stone laid path. 

They could smell the fear before they ever reached the door. Cassian marveled at the sprawling estate, trying to reconcile it with the story Rhys had told him regarding Feyre’s life before the mountain, before Prythian. He’d seen less wealth in castles—in some of the palaces High Lords occupied. 

Feyre seemed ill at ease when she pulled open the door to allow them in. Tucking his wings in tight, Cassian tucked under the doorway to avoid hitting his head against the wood. None of it had been built with creatures like him in mind. 

The cloying scent of salt and fear threatened to overwhelm him as Feyre beckoned for them to follow behind her. There was something else lingering in the air. Something sweet, some call that his gut answered even as his brain scrambled to untangle. Cassian’s own anxiety slid into pure, animal excitement. He’d heard human food was inedible but perhaps that was merely a rumor. The desert-like scent in the air was certainly making promises. A ribbon of vanilla and honey—or cinnamon and clove. Something warm, something that reminded him of untarnished snow and crackling, comforting flame. 

It took Cassian a moment to realize the hint of metal sang just beneath the sweet, though he very much doubted there were those sorts of weapons in this place. Beside him Azriel didn’t seem to be concerned and Rhys was so busy studying Feyre with that familiar look of longing to notice anything else. 

Cassian wanted to extend his wings and couldn’t quite figure out why. Get it together, he ordered himself silently. They were just humans and this was one meal, one night, and then one miserable meeting with the cunty queens he didn’t expect to help. 

Cassian complemented the house, trying like he always did to ease some of the tension. It did little for the three people surrounding him. Feyre’s face was drawn and tight, which made Rhys edgy even as he tried to hide it. He’d sent his own wings away while Azriel had banished his shadows in an attempt to set Feyre’s sisters at ease. 

Cassian sized the three of them up. Even without the magic rolling off them in obvious, visual waves, there was nothing that could be done that would make humans comfortable around them. They were so obviously different it was almost funny. 

Almost. 

Cassian took a breath and stepped into the brightness of dusk filled dining room. Two women stood just beside the window, gold gilding their brown hair. Swallowing, he took in the smaller one first—wide, nervous brown eyes bounced between him and Azriel, staring not at their faces but the wings just behind. They both attempted to tuck them tighter, stomach clenching in the process. Cassian wanted to reach for the twin swords strapped along his spine and resisted, not wanting to see the trembling female faint.

The taller sister stepped ever so slightly in front of her, amethyst gown whispering some silent warning. Cassian looked to her face, expecting to find similar beauty trembling back at him.

His whole body ignited at the sight of those silvery blue eyes staring directly at him with defiance. No fear, he marveled, drinking in the face of the most beautiful female he’d ever seen in his immortal existence. Her high cheekbones, her curved brows, and her full lips set in a tight line made his blood sing, made him stand just a little straighter as though she outwardly demanded it.

Look at me, look at me, look—

She stumbled backward, knocking into the sister behind her a mere second before all the air was expelled from Cassian’s lungs. A siphoned hand flew to his chest to try and steady his frantic heart. A muscle in his chest ripped open, unknown to him right until that moment when it was pulled taut. 

“My sisters,” Feyre said, her voice faraway as though she were screaming to him underwater. “Nesta and Elain Archeron.”

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta. Cassian was certain he’d dreamt that name before. Rhys’s head whipped toward Cassian, eyes flashing.

What the fuck is going on? The High Lords voice rang through his mind, talons slicing his warded walls to ribbons. Cassian let him in, swallowing had as Nesta righted herself. He could hear her frantic heart, a mirror for his own. 

There was ringing silence in his head as Rhys parsed through the last ten seconds and then a heaving, heavy sigh. 

Cauldron fuck me, Rhys said. 

“Get them out of here,” Nesta Archeron’s voice said, wavering even as her iron spine did not. Feyre gaped, face paling. 

“You said—”

“I’ve changed my mind!” Nesta declared, her voice shrill. She was still looking at him, accusation lining those stunning eyes. “I want them out right now! Get them out of this house before—”

“It’s just you,” Rhys interrupted smoothly, reading Nesta’s thoughts quickly. Azriel looked over at Cassian, who’d thrown his hands up in defense. “Elain is fine.”

“What’s going on?” Elain whispered, tears brimming the bottom of her eyes. 

Nesta’s upper lip curled over her teeth and though he knew he shouldn’t, Cassian grinned as his human mate turned to face off with the High Lord. She had to be crazy to think she could withstand him and yet Cassian thought if they came to blows, Nesta might come out on top from sheer will alone. 

It didn’t stop him from daring a step toward Rhys. 

“This is still my house,” she hissed, unaware that just behind her, Elain had clutched her cobalt dress in nervous, trembling fingers. Two fat tears slid down her cheeks, unnoticed as she waited to see what would happen. “Get him out of here.”

“My name is Cassian,” Cassian told her stupidly, wanting her to look at him again. “And I’m not leaving.”

Someone had to guard her, after all. He’d already promised Rhys he’d keep an eye on the estate though back when he’d agreed, he’d figured he’d fly a few circles overhead at night and otherwise keep his distance.

Now he’d be sleeping outside Nesta Archeron’s door whether she liked it or not. And judging by the anger radiating off that perfect face, Cassian suspected it would  be the latter.

“No one is leaving,” Feyre declared, still bewildered. She stepped between Rhys and her eldest sister, looking between them both. “And no one is fighting. Whatever is going on—”

“He’s done something!” Nesta declared, crossing her arms over her chest. Cassian forced himself not to look at her breasts swelled over her neckline, eyes snapping back to her face. His mate—this was his mate. “You swore there would be no magic.”

Cassian couldn’t help his loud laugh. “I did something?” he shot back incredulously. “It was you, Nesta Archeron. You and your eyes–”

“That’s enough!” Rhys ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There was no magic. What you two feel…” he took a breath as both Azriel and Elain inched away from Cassian and Nesta instinctively, uninterested in getting caught in the crosshairs. 

“Oh, no,” Feyre whispered, her expression falling. 

“It’s a mating bond,” Rhys finally said, forcing the words out as though they pained him.

“It’s nothing,” Nesta insisted. Cassian pretended that didn’t wound him, forcing his smile to remain unchanged.

“We’ll see,” he replied.

“We should eat,” Elain said, catching the way Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel all stiffened at the suggestion. Rhys turned to Cassian, a warning in his eyes not to try anything when it came to Nesta Archeron. Cassian knew he was too confrontational without saying a word in response. If Nesta wanted to serve him, he wasn’t going to stop her. In fact, he welcomed her placing a dish in front of him even if it was the foul human food.

Anything that might make her feel the same instinctual need thrumming through him. 

It was only Feyre and her nervous eyes that kept Cassian from doing anything but dipping his head. She wanted her sisters to like them and this new, unexpected roadblock had certainly thrown a wrench in those plans. 

It was pure tragedy to see the dining table lined with silver dishes. While Nesta took the chair at the head of the table, Feyre began pulling open lids loudly, her frustration plain. She was the one who went around and served Cassian, dumping things indiscriminately onto his plate. Rhys and Azriel watched, serving themselves quietly and carefully in response to the clattering spoons. 

Cassian sat as close to Nesta as he could get given her sisters now flanked her. It was amusing to think Elain might be trying to protect Nesta. 

Feyre and Rhys tried making small talk and Nesta, who was practically burning for a fight, started with Feyre. Cassian was watching, shoveling food tastelessly into his mouth. 

Do it, do it, do it— he was practically on his knees begging for her attention. When Nesta asked Feyre if their food wasn’t good enough, Cassian saw an opportunity and took it. 

“I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I’ll have to take your word on it.”

Their eyes met, her brow arched. Cassian imagined many a male at withered to dust beneath that look but oh, how he savored it. For five hundred years, Cassian had been looking for a worthy opponent. Someone as strong as he was, as capable. Someone who might best him without the use of the High Lords magic–and even Rhys couldn’t beat him in a hand to hand fight. 

“You might like my home,” Cassian told her, setting his fork back to the table. Nesta’s eyes flashed and Cassian wondered how depraved it made him to wish she’d fly across over those elegant dish ware and wrap her hands around his throat. 

At least then she’d be touching him. And oh, but how he wanted to feel those hands against his skin, even if she was pummeling him into oblivion. Especially if she was pummeling him into oblivion.

Azriel coughed politely while Rhys stared up at the chandelier and too late, Cassian realized arousal must have been rolling off him. 

“I might,” Nesta agreed with a predator's smile, “if it were burning to the ground.”

“That’s enough!” Feyre interrupted as Rhys’s fork clattered to his plate. It wasn’t, though. Nesta wasn’t finished eviscerating Cassian and Cassian was going to let her. He held her stare, head cocked.

I’m not scared of you, he thought. It was only half a lie. What happened when Feyre explained to Nesta how mating bonds worked? The female before him was likely to break it simply because she could. There was no love for his kind in those eyes. 

“And when it's your home that's burning first?” Cassian asked her. “Mine has already been thoroughly wrecked and might have been nothing but ash if your sister hadn’t come along.”

Nesta hesitated long enough for Cassian to understand some small piece of the female tied to him by fate itself. Nesta didn’t know what had happened in Prythian, then. Didn’t know what had caused Feyre’s transformation or, if she did, she didn’t wholly understand it. Cassian imagined Feyre might have downplayed the worst of things to spare her sisters. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Nesta asked him, regaining herself with a quick blink of those mesmerizing eyes. “To keep my home safe.”

Cassian offered her a smile. “That’s exactly right.”

Azriel coughed again, his cheeks burning as he kept his eyes on his plate. Cassian’s smile slipped—he wasn’t aroused. Even Feyre couldn’t look at her sister, though she remained silent as Cassian realized this time it was Nesta’s faint arousal in the air, snuffed out like a candle when she realized herself. Cassian doubted she knew their senses had all caught it, and if anyone told her, Cassian thought he might kill them. Nesta didn’t seem like she handled embarrassment well and if she learned, Cassian was certain she’d lean hard into her anger and fear and he’d never scent it again.

Dinner passed quietly after that. Elain made awkward small talk with an equally awkward Azriel, allowing the rest of them to say nothing. And when they finished, both Nesta and Elain vanished, leaving only the latter to return later to show them to their respective rooms for the evening. 

Neither Azriel nor Cassian commented on Feyre and Rhys sharing a bed chamber and Elain was far too modest to do anything but close the door quickly, eyes wide with embarrassment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve put you away from…” Elain chewed the inside of her cheek. Cassian only shrugged. It was to be expected that everyone would want him far, far away from Nesta Archeron. For all he knew, Nesta herself had ordered he be put outside. If she’d told him herself to sleep in the stables, he would have done it. She wasn’t going to speak to him and he wasn’t going to make things more difficult. 

Elain vanished the moment she’d unlocked the door at the end of the empty hall. The best was big enough to accommodate his wings though little else. Cassian sighed, ignoring it and the roaring fireplace in favor of the large, closed windows. He flung them open and angled his head to look up at the sky. Stars were blotted out by gray clouds and though his eyes were sharp, even in the distance he could see nothing of his home. 

Had he infuriated the Mother so badly she’d pair him with a human. How long would it take Cassian to convince Nesta she could trust him? And how much longer after that before time stole her from him? Cassian had an eternity ahead of him, stretching miserably as he considered that eighty years were nothing, and somehow everything all at once.

What was worse? Being allowed to love her for the span of time he’d been given, or her breaking the bond and knowing one day he’d feel it vanish from his chest like it had never been there at all. Potentially watching his brothers find mates knowing his own had rejected him, moved on, and died and he’d never have a fraction of what they did? 

He was sliding into pity when he heard feather soft footsteps in the hall. Cassian turned from the window, bracing himself for a fight when the handle to the door turned. There she was—still dressed in the amethyst gown. Her golden brown hair was braided in a crown around her head while a silver necklace adorned the delicate column of her throat. Cassian couldn’t breathe while he looked at her.

Nesta kept her hand on the golden knob of the door even as she closed it. As if he might snatch her up and lock her away.

The thought was tempting.

“Feyre says this thing between us can be broken,” she began, saying the words he dreaded the most. Cassian kept his expression flat, not daring to let her see that one sentence threatened to unmake him. 

Silence stretched endlessly, forcing him to speak. “Do it, then.”

Her eyes flashed. Cassian squared his shoulders, bracing himself for whatever words Rhys had told Feyre to tell Nesta—the words that would unravel the spell between them just as quickly as it had settled.

“Feyre says you plan to watch us after the queen's leave tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a question, though Cassian answered anyway. “Yes.”

“Even if I break the bond?”

“You think my help is conditional?” he challenged. 

“You’re a man aren’t you?” she shot back. Cassian dared a small step toward her. Nesta didn’t flinch nor did she shrink back. She merely watched, waiting to see what would happen.

“No, Nesta Archeron. I am not a man.” 

And because he was so very, very stupid, Cassian unfurled his wings just to illustrate his point. He was a fae male, not a human man. 

“What’s the difference?” she demanded, her heart thudding so loud it was the only thing he could hear. Cassian couldn’t make heads or tails of the scent coming off her—it wasn’t fear or arousal, but something else. Something that excited him all the same. 

“Would you like to find out?” 

Say yes, say yes, say yes— “I don’t want you to…” Nesta took a breath, exhaling it slowly through pretty, pink lips. “We’re alone here.”

Careful so not to scare her, Cassian reached for the knife sheathed along his thigh. Nesta tracked the movement with that predator's gaze. She could have been a powerful warrior if she’d wanted to be. Could have brought kings to their knees with those eyes. 

“Take it,” Cassian told her, holding the silver hilted weapon in his hands. “Put it under your pillow.”

“What will this do?”

“If you’re quick about it, and someone dares to try and sneak up on you, it’ll kill them ideally,” he told her, unwilling to admit how achy and tight he felt at the thought of her covered in blood. Furious, too, when he imagined the sort of person that might creep into her bedroom late at night.

“Buy yourself time until I arrive.”

Nesta darted forward, fingers brushing his own. “How will you know I’m in trouble?” she asked him, not moving away. She was close enough to touch, close enough to taste. Not this night, he knew. There was something lingering in her gaze, some old wound Cassian could guess well enough. 

You’re a man, aren’t you? 

Cassian would kill whoever had hurt her. Just the thought someone had been so careless with his mate made him want to roar, made him want to snap his teeth and dig his fingers into soft, breakable flesh. He wanted to bring her the head of that male for her approval. 

“I’ll know,” he said instead, fighting to keep the fury from his tone. 

“What if you’re not here?” she questioned. 

“Then you fight until I can find you,” he replied, certain she would anyway. Nesta gripped the night tighter in her hand, sharp nails digging along her palm. He was going to touch her, he decided. Carefully and slowly, Cassian reached for her face and skimmed his knuckles along her high cheekbone. She let him, though she didn’t lean into the touch or otherwise show any appreciation for it. “You fight like hell.”

“And then what?” she whispered. 

Gods, had anyone ever taken care of this woman—his female? Cassian considered asking her for a list of everyone who had ever hurt her, starting from her earliest memories and working forward. 

He stepped closer, drinking in that warm scent. “And then I’ll lay the world in ashes at your feet.”

Nesta didn’t flinch, nor did she falter. She didn’t have to speak for him to know he’d get one shot to prove himself to her. One chance to show he meant what he said and that she could depend on him. That she could trust him.

“Good night, Cassian,” she said, holding his gaze for only a moment. His knees wobbled as some invisible force pushed on his shoulder, demanding he bow. He hadn’t done so since Rhysand’s father had been alive and had always been immensely resentful of it.

But now Cassian made himself low, eyes averted before his lady.

“Good night, Nes.”

The meeting with the queens was predictably shitty but Nesta was unpredictably passionate. He’d expected his mate and her sister to side with the queens but Nesta had spoken up, arguing in favor of aligning with the fae. And though Cassian didn’t dare say so out loud, he did wonder—and hope—that some of that was his influence. 

Maybe she didn’t want to see his home burn as badly as she claimed.

Cassian returned that night, flying silently through the darkness, desperate to see her. The cord in his chest shimmered, bringing him directly to her bedroom window. He could see her brushing out waist length, golden blonde hair in front of vanity when he knocked softly on the glass. She turned, eyes narrowed.

Nesta snatched up a dressing robe, covering the silken night dress that hugged every lush curve of her body and threatened to knock him from the sky before she opened the window.

“Haven’t you heard of the front door?” she hissed while Cassian wedged his too-large body into her bedroom.

“And scare your servants?” he retorted, eyes falling on the bed in the center of the room. She’d pulled the cream colored bedding back in preparation for sleep, filling his head with lewd, inappropriate thoughts. What did she do when she was all alone? 

Nesta ran her tongue along her teeth. “I figured you’d sit on the roof like a gargoyle.”

He laughed. “It’s too cold for that. I think I’d like to warm myself in front of your fire.” Her eyes were slits as he made his way toward the marble hearth, hands outstretched. “You’re supposed to be keeping us safe!”

He flashed her a grin. “No place is safer for you now—”

“And what about Elain?” she demanded, hands on her hips. Cassian forced himself not to let his gaze slide down her body though he so desperately wanted to make his appreciation plain. Nesta was too proper to enjoy that from someone she still didn’t trust, and Cassian was in it for the long haul. He could be patient, could let her come to him when she was ready. 

“She’s two doors down, Nes. I think I can make it in time,” he replied. “No one is going to hurt you.”

She bit her bottom lip, some of that apprehension shining through. 

“I won’t let them,” he added. “If I can’t be here, I can send warriors—”

“No more fae—”

“Humans, then?” he suggested, though humans weren’t likely to be helpful if it were his own kind hunting them. No one knew about Feyre’s sisters as far as Cassian knew. Just him and his brothers…and, he supposed, Tamlin in Spring Court. And while he had no love for the High Lord of Spring, he didn’t think Tamlin was the sort of male to harm unarmed, defenseless females. If he had a problem with Rhysand, he’d bring it to their doorstep for a fair fight.

“Who are you so afraid of?” Cassian asked her. “Tell me their names.”

“Why?”

He couldn’t hide his blood lust. “You know why.”

“So, is this how the mating bond works for you, then? It makes you stupid?”

Cassian laughed again. “Sweetheart, I was born stupid. Your sister is my friend—I would come even if you were nothing more to me than that.”

“She says you’re the General of the Night Court.”

Something about hearing his title on her lips made Cassian tight again. He resisted the urge to adjust his pants in favor of taking a steadying breath. He was the master of his own cock—he wasn’t going to let her see his erection unless she wanted to. 

“Yes.”

“You’d send your own soldiers to guard us?”

“If it helped you sleep at night,” he replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Do you still have the knife?”

Nesta strode to her pillow and pulled it back so he could see she’d done exactly as he said. He had to touch her again. Cassian knew he was going to leave, that he’d go sit on the roof just like she wanted him to so she could sleep. She didn’t move as he came toward her, her spine utterly straight.

He touched her cheek again.

“Sleep well, Nes.”

“Good night, Cassian.”

Every night after, Cassian came through Nesta’s window. She showed him her knife, he touched her face, and then went to keep watch on the roof. It was taking a toll on him—during the day, Cassian helped train Feyre, too. 

“When are you sleeping?” Rhys asked him when Cassian stumbled into the town house for breakfast. 

He only shrugged. “When I can.”

They were still waiting on any word from the queens about the other half of the book.

“Feyre said Nesta agreed to some of my men to stand watch. Take a night off.”

“Why don’t you take a night off?” Cassian snapped, his exhaustion getting the better of him. Without Azriel as a buffer to soften Cassian’s words, all he had was the simmering irritation of Rhys at the other end of that table staring him down.

“Cassian—”

“Are you ordering me to?” he demanded, dropping his fork to the wood so he could cross his arms over his chest. “Because I made her a promise.”

“Fuck—no, I’m not ordering you to, but you’re going to get hurt if you keep this up,” Rhys retorted hotly. “Tell her to give you a bed at least. Sleep somewhere in that fucking house, I don’t care. I need you if things get bad.”

“Maybe you should train Feyre then,” Cassian said, holding Rhys’s gaze. “It doesn’t have to be me.”

Cassian had begun to suspect Rhys’s reasons for not training Feyre were the same ones that kept Cassian on Nesta’s roof each night. He’d kept his mouth shut about it and his suspicions to himself and all he was asking for similar courtesy from Rhys.

“You’re my best warrior,” Rhys replied evenly. “And she trusts you.”

Absently, Cassian wondered if Rhys would care half as much if the bond had snapped between him and Elain. He read Rhys’s dislike for Nesta plain as day on his face. Five hundred years hadn’t broken the brotherhood between them but this might. 

“Maybe you should, too,” Cassian said simply, rising from his chair. Rhys wasn’t giving him an order, which meant Cassian would continue on as he had. 

Though, that night when he slipped into Nesta’s window like he always did, she was already in bed. Blanket to her neck so he couldn’t see an inch of her, but more relaxed than she usually was. He caught a book face down in her lap and wondered what she liked to read.

“Are you okay?” she asked harshly. Too much like Rhys, he decided with some irritation.

“Fine,” he grumbled, raking both hands through his shoulder length hair.

“You look—” she stopped herself when he pinned her with his stare. “Rhys sent warriors. Did you see them?”

“I did,” he agreed. They’d been skulking about the perimeter, just out of sight from the humans. Any fae lurking, though, would clock their presence immediately. 

“You could go home tonight if you wanted?”

How did Cassian explain she was home? The thought of sleeping in his own bed while she was out here felt unbearable to him. So he shook his head and went back toward the window, well aware Rhys was going to chew him out for it in the morning.

“Or—” Nesta took a breath, leaning forward. Strands of that thick, long hair spilled over her delicate shoulders and fuck he wanted to bury his face in it so badly it hurt. “You could stay in the house tonight?”

Relief flooded through him. “That would be nice.”

“You look like you need sleep,” she said, gesturing for the robe hanging from her vanity chair. Cassian picked it up, drinking in the scent of her skin wafting off it as he handed it to her.

Turning for the fireplace, he let her dress without being watched. She was quick about it, hair tucked into the neck as she beckoned for him to follow. Cassian all but tripped over his own feet, joining her in the hall. He expected to be sent back into exile across the estate but Nesta merely pulled open a door right across from her own.

Her scent was all over it. Cassian stepped inside, drinking in that large bed and the dark sheets neatly tucked against the mattress. Looking at her, Cassian silently questioned when she’d put this together. Nesta would never answer, but the insight was helpful. Nesta was observant—knew he needed a place to rest. And she’d made him one and then, he supposed, waited to see if he’d keep coming back before she offered it.

She hesitated at the door. “Well–”

“Wait!” he said, reaching for her slim wrist. Nesta let him touch her, eyes sliding between his hand to his face. “Thank you, Nes.”

Her cheeks warmed. Gently, she pulled from his grasp, rose up on her tiptoes, and pressed a feather soft kiss to his cheek.

“Good night, Cassian.”

It was the best night's sleep he’d ever had. 

He was going to have to leave her—for several nights while they tracked Hybern’s spies down. Cassian was dreading that conversation more than any other in his entire life. He’d put off leaving as long as could, but after a while there was nothing left for him to do but take off for the house.

He found Nesta pacing her bedroom, arms wrapped around her body tightly. Her head snapped to the window when he tapped nervously and those silvery blue eyes that so often looked at him with nothing but disdain were filled with relief. 

Cassian didn’t know what to make of that. Still, he slipped in, bracing himself for her anger.

“Where have you been?” she asked, eyes scanning him. “I thought—”

“I’m fine,” he said, reaching for the tops of her arms.

“Where were you?” she demanded, hair spilling like liquid gold down her shoulders. Nesta’s bottom lip wobbled and Cassian thought he might die at the sight. “I thought—”

“I’m fine,” he promised. Nesta wrenched from his grasp, dressed in a red night dress nearly the same shade as the siphons on his hands. Had she done it on purpose or was it merely an accident? 

“You always come at the exact same time—”

“I was afraid,” he admitted, the words spilling from his lips in a rush. “This is the last night I’ll be here for a while. I need…I have to do something and I won’t be able to watch you. I don’t want to let you down.”

She was watching him. “Let me down?” she questioned, each word carefully enunciated. Cassian braced himself for her to break his heart—to tell him she didn’t care enough about him to be disappointed by him. That everything that had happened was merely his imagination and he was nothing at all to her. “How could you possibly think you could let me down, Cassian?”

He swallowed hard. “You will be alone in the house again. And I swore I’d keep you safe.”

“The soldiers will remain,” she said, coming toward him. “And I still have your knife. I’m not disappointed—I…”

Cassian waited, holding his breath. Nesta exhaled slowly, eyes closing for just a moment. When she looked back at him, he knew he was going to kiss her. He wasn’t leaving without knowing what she tasted like, if only to motivate him to finish his job quickly so he could return to her. 

“You could never disappoint me, Cassian.”

“Give me time,” he replied, reaching for her face. This time, when he cupped her cheek, Nesta leaned into the touch. He angled her face while lowering his own slow enough that if she wanted, she could pull away.

She didn’t. 

Gods, but Nesta Archeron had the power to fully undo him. Her lips were soft and warm, her heart pounding just as loudly as his own. The bond in his chest writhed with delight despite the utterly polite, impossibly chaste kiss he offered her. Nesta was a lady and Cassian wasn’t stupid. In a better world without the looming threat of war or the fear humans had of the fae, he’d have been allowed to walk up to her door, declare his intentions, and court her the way he was certain she would have preferred. 

He didn’t have those things, but he did have five centuries of restraint. And he needed all of that practice to pull himself back when her bed was right there, and his nose was burning with the sweetness of her arousal. 

“Wait,” Nesta whispered, trying to curl her fingers into the leather of his chest. 

She didn’t need to beg him. Hell, Nesta didn’t even need to ask. Cassian kissed her again, letting her feel some of his own desire that raced through him day and night. It was Nesta who wound her arms around his neck, pressing her warm, soft body against his own. Cassian let her take the lead, his mind blissfully empty of anything but the way her lips fit against his and the sweet taste of her. 

He didn’t realize he was gripping her hips until Nesta swayed, unable to keep herself upright on her tiptoes. Cassian ought to have known better—but he was stupid, just as he’d told her he was. Adjusting his grip, he hauled her up so she didn’t have to stand at all, but could brace her body weight against his arms. 

He half expected her to slap him for it. Instead, Nesta sighed, gripped his face, and kissed him again. She didn’t wrap her legs around him which was for the best—if he’d felt the heat of her cunt against his body he probably would have gotten on his knees and begged her to let him fuck her. Cassian was positive she’d never been touched before. The first few kisses had been sweet but clumsy, though Nesta was a perfectionist and by the time he dared to trace her bottom lip with his tongue, she kissed him with the expert precision of a female who knew exactly what males liked.

She opened for him, drawing a ragged, desperate moan from his throat. She tasted better than she smelled, her tongue soft when it met his own. 

“Nesta,” he said, the words both prayer and plea as he spoke them directly into her mouth. She swallowed it greedily, kissing him again and again with the same fevered want he felt. This was his mate, in his arms, kissing him. Cassian understood why people were wary of mated males now. He would have gone to war for her. She could have pointed him in any direction and he’d have withdrawn his sword and done as she demanded.

He supposed the world ought to be grateful all Nesta wanted was peace. 

Raging hard by the time Nesta slid from his grasp, Cassian could do little more than breathe through his mouth. “I um,” she began, wrapping her arms around her body. “I don’t…”

“I know,” he said. She had no experience with this and Cassian wasn’t going to push her. Not now, not when he knew the kind of heat racing through her. “I’m going to bed. You should, too.” She nodded her head, watching him walk to her bedroom door.

“Cassian?”

He turned back to look at her. Beautiful. She was so damn beautiful.

“Be safe.”

He smiled. 

I love you too.

“What happened to you?” Nesta demanded. He’d promised to come back after that last meeting with the queens—the one where she’d begged for help and was rebuffed—and had found himself battling Hybern. In the aftermath, Cassian hadn’t meant to fall asleep in a chair, but by the time he’d woke it had been morning and Rhys wanted to plan their trip to Hybern. 

Cassian shook his head, reading the fear on her face. “I’m sorry. Nes, I’m so sorry—” “

You’re hurt,” she said. Cassian, who’d been covered in cuts and bruises since he’d been a boy, had forgotten he might still bear some of those wounds on his skin. He waved it off but she was coming to him in that red night dress and who was he to deny his mate the chance to fuss? 

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’ve had worse.”

The fear etched over her expression threatened to undo him completely. Holding her face, Cassian repeated, “I’m fine, Nes.”

“I’m not,” she whispered, so softly only his fae hearing caught it. He swallowed hard.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Stay with me?” she asked, fingers curling over his wrist. There was an unspoken please in her gaze, one he knew she didn’t dare speak aloud, if only to preserve some of her pride. Was she unaware he’d have done anything she asked him to. 

“In here?” his eyes drifted to the bed. Nesta nodded her head, her mouth set in a determined line. 

“Yes,” she said, looking him over with open disapproval. “And not in that.”

Cassian was still in his fighting leathers. He blinked. “I…I don’t have anything else to wear.”

It took Cassian too long to understand what Nesta wanted. Even after she sauntered into bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin, staring openly at him. Was he supposed to undress in front of her? Surely…surely she’d murder him for that? 

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked him.

“Yes?”

Cassian decided he’d just…start taking off his armor and stop whenever she told him to. He started with his weapons, setting them all gently against the same vanity she kept her jewelry. Nesta watched, knees drawn up, her eyes wide and hungry. That, he decided, must be a good sign. 

He removed his boots next, unlacing them slowly just to test that this was all read and actually happening. Nesta never took her eyes off him, even when he reached for the straps of his clothes. “Have you ever seen a naked male before?” he dared to ask, his words so obviously nervous it almost made him laugh. Had he ever been naked in front of a female before? It didn't feel like it—not with the way his fingers were stumbling over the clasps of his clothes.

“No,” she breathed. Cassian cleared his throat. He’d be the first, then. 

Nodding, he didn’t dare look at her again until he was wholly unclothed. Erect, too, which certainly didn’t help things. He could feel her eyes on him and when he dared to look, was relieved to see nothing but pure, undiluted arousal gracing that beautiful face.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked, grateful he sounded sensual rather than desperate. Nesta cocked her head, gaze wholly on his cock. It twitched beneath her scrutiny, too optimistic given the company in which they stood. For all Cassian knew, she merely wanted to look at him before she sent him on his way.

“Promise you won’t hurt me,” she said instead, her voice crisp and careful. Cassian reached out for the bedpost to keep himself upright.

“I swear,” he said. “Nesta, surely you must know…you must know I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“And if I told you to throw yourself from the roof?” she asked. Cassian held her gaze.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I know,” she replied before curving a finger, beckoning him forward. Cassian tripped over his own feet, flopping to the bed. Nesta laughed—actually laughed—which propelled him toward her.

That smile turned her already stunning face into something ethereal. Cassian crawled to her, blanketing them both beneath his wings when he reached her face.

Holding it in his hands, he murmured, “You’re so damn beautiful.”

“Cass,” she murmured, her smile softening. That was enough. He didn’t need her to say anything else and didn’t think Nesta was able to. Maybe she never would be. Maybe it would be her lifetime of knowing she felt the same without ever hearing the words spoken.

It was enough. Ghosting his lips over her own and ignoring the way his cock was throbbing, Cassian murmured, “There will be nobody else. For either of us.” He wanted her to know that it had already been decades upon decades of no one already. That for as long as she’d been alive, there’d been only one person, for a quick, brief moment that had left him feeling less satisfied than before. And he wondered if somehow he hadn’t known his mate was out there waiting for him, tempering his hot blood. 

And Cassian knew when Nesta left the world, he was likely to go with her. Once they’d finished with Hybern, he resolved himself to see Helion Spell-Cleaver’s libraries and ask if there wasn’t some spell that might bind them, might strip him of his immortality so he could live one last lifetime with her.

Just the thought eased the tension weighing him down. Surely he wasn’t the first fae to love a human. Cassian kissed her and Nesta kissed back, pouring all her unspoken emotion into the act. It made him want to cry, made him want to be the sort of male who wrote sonnets and expressed himself with eloquence and ease. 

He had his hands and his mouth, though. And Nesta would know, by the time they finished, the depth of his devotion when it came to her. There would be no question of it, nor would she ever doubt him. It was selfish, but in his mind, Cassian was hoping he’d convince her to leave the mortal lands and live with him in Velaris where they’d be safe—and together. 

And if they succeeded in Hybern and prevented a war, Cassian could see no reason why she couldn’t, though he could imagine a million reasons why she wouldn’t. Elain, primarily, who was still engaged. Perhaps once Nesta saw her married, he rationalized.

Focus, he ordered himself. He was too distracted by too many possibilities when Nesta Archeron was warm and pliant beneath him. Willing, too, given the arousal perfuming the air around them. He was nervous, reaching for her shoulder—at any moment Cassian expected Nesta to hit him hard, to scream at him, to demand he get far, far away from her. 

Nesta’s teeth nipped his bottom lip, pulling a soft moan of pleasure from his throat. She shivered, goosebumps erupting on her delicate arm. It convinced him to keep moving, his hands skimming the sides of her body until he found the hem of her night dress. 

“Arch your back,” he whispered against her mouth and Gods, but she did it without complaint. Nesta blinked open those big eyes, her lashes dark and thick and then, like every fantasy he’d ever had, did exactly as he asked. Cassian groaned without meaning to, swallowing hard as he raised the silken material over her head and then tossed it to the floor. 

Naked. 

Cassian could only stare at the unblemished body of his mate, unhidden by any blanket, though if someone were to fly by all they’d see would be his massive wings obscuring her from view.

And then they’d see the Mother, because he was pretty sure he’d kill someone for even trying. 

“Nes,” he whispered, certain it was sacrilegious to even touch her. Nesta trembled, waiting for him to say something but words were failing Cassian. In five hundred years, he had nothing that compared to her, to how beautiful he found her, how much she meant to him.

Shaking his head, certain he’d say the wrong thing, Cassian returned to kissing her. That was safer, and an easier way to express himself besides. Nesta seemed relieved, returning the gesture with the sort of gusto that made him half wild with need. Cassian touched her with less hesitation, cupping the breasts he’d spent the last few weeks trying so hard not to look at. It seemed worth it to him, not. She was so fucking soft, so warm and willing that his hips jerked in response.

Nesta did, too. She moaned softly, her tongue clashing with his own. He wanted to feel that tongue against his chest, his stomach, his cock. He’d teach her when he came back. He’d show Nesta exactly what he liked, how to get him off in as few touches as possibly—and how to prolong things for as long as she wished.

Cassian was so wrapped up in the fantasy, he didn’t notice her reach for his wings until she ran her finger along the edge. His hips jerked again and Cassian came without warming, grunting roughly. Nesta laughed again, her eyes wide with delight.

“Did you just—”

“Yes,” he said, catching her by the wrist and pinning it over her head. “An Illyrian’s wings are very sensitive.”

“They’re soft,” she said without an ounce of repentance. Privately, Cassian thought it was better this way—now, when he entered her, he wouldn’t be so fucking close. He wanted to see Nesta Archeron come all over his cock. He wanted to see his proper, well-bred lady unspool around him until she was just as wanton as he’d always imagined. 

Before she could come on his cock, though, she needed to come on his tongue. That he knew with absolute certainty. And since he’d come twice, she needed to, too. Besides, Nesta Archeron was untouched and had asked him not to hurt her, which meant he needed to work her into what was twitching between his legs. 

“Yes,” he agreed, kissing the corner of her mouth. “The only part of me that is, too.”

“Male pride is something else,” she crooned as Cassian licked a path down her neck. He hummed his agreement before drawing one of those rosy nipples into his mouth. She tasted so fucking good it made his chest ache. It also silenced Nesta, who raked her nails into his hair. She undid the messy half knot he’d thrown in right before leaving, tossing the leather strap somewhere in the room. He’d never find it again, a small price to pay if it meant pleasing her. 

“If I do something you don’t like, I need you to tell me,” he said, looking up at her flushed face. Nesta was uncharacteristically speechless, nodding her head while Cassian continued his path between her legs. He dared to spread them wide, to look at her flushed, gleaming sex. 

“Promise me, Nes. I need to hear you say it.”

“I promise,” she whispered, arching when his thumb slicked through the wet. Cassian circled her clit, watching the way her hips bucked without warning.

“Do you ever touch yourself like this?” he asked. It was something he’d wondered many times while sitting on her roof. More than once he’d been tempted to fly down just to see and knew he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself if he’d found her with her hand beneath the sheets. 

“Yes,” she whispered. He groaned at the thought.

“What do you imagine?” 

“You,” she rasped, reaching for his head as he replaced his thumb with his tongue. “Cassian—oh, gods—”

Oh, gods, indeed. She was sweet like that first scent of her, a reminder of walking through her house all those weeks before. Cassian had intended to go exceptionally slow, to draw the night out. He was running out of time and he knew it—a claw raked against his senses as Rhysand demanded to know where he was. Cassian shoved him out. 

Bother someone else he thought viciously. He’d return before dawn, but for now this time was his. Rhysand wasn’t allowed everything. Certainly not when Nesta’s legs were spread wide and she was gripping his hair so roughly there was real danger she might rip it from his head.

Cassian licked again, and again, and again, until he too was fucking the sheets and his cocking was practically weeping precome. 

Focus, he ordered himself again. It was too easy to get lost in instinct, to chase what felt good and forget that his mate was more than just new to being touched, but human, too. Whether Nesta agreed with him or not, she was fragile—breakable even. Bruises wouldn’t heal in minutes and he’d be damned if he was the one who was the cause of that guarded, suspicious look in her eyes. 

Cassian slid a finger into her body and nearly came again. She was so tight, so wet and warm clenched around his one finger that he couldn’t stop the whine that escaped him. He needed to work her up to taking him but more importantly, he needed to be inside her. Forcing himself to breathe, Cassian continued to lick as he worked a second, and finally a third finger into her.

Nesta was panting, writhing her hips on the sheets until the corner peeled from the mattress and bunched around her shoulder. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he rasped, though his words were half for himself. 

“Don’t stop,” she said. It wasn’t a plea so much as an order and the soldier that had been trained in him practically since birth straightened to obey. He couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and Cassian supposed it was lucky all she wanted was for him to keep going. He focused, trying to treat what he was doing clinically though he was failing miserably. His cock throbbed between his legs, wedged against his body and each time he moved his hands, his wings brushed over her shoulders. 

“Cassian,” she panted. His name on her lips was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard. He was unraveling just as quickly as she was. Nothing had ever filled him with more relief than when she broke apart, her hand covering her mouth so the whole house wouldn’t hear her. He’d bring her to Illyria just as soon as he could, if only to hear her scream.

Even if it meant he had to bring her back when he finished. Maybe she’d enjoy flying. Cassian hoped so. 

“Cassian—” Nesta gasped when his mouth covered her own, forcing her to taste her release still branded on his tongue. Nesta moaned, legs still wide as he positioned himself between them.

Forcing himself to remain still, he let her watch through half lidded eyes while he licked the taste of her from his fingers.

“Tell me to stop if I hurt you,” he whispered, notching the head of his cock against her still throbbing entrance. Nesta nodded, swallowing audibly. She was wet, she was aroused, and he’d used his fingers to try and ease her into the thickness of him. There was nothing else he could do other than go slow and let her adjust inch by inch.

Even if it was torture to do so. 

“Breathe,” he said again, once again speaking more to himself than to her. “Just breathe.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said, poking him in the ribs. 

“It’s not supposed to,” he replied, sliding himself further into her body. It was heaven and hell, her cunt so tight he couldn’t think straight. The bond in his chest writhed desperately, begging him to take more, to do it all much quicker. 

It was worth it once he was seated wholly inside her, gazing down at her lovely, flushed form to find her looking right back at him. Nesta squeezed, punching the air from his lungs. 

“I’m not breakable, Cassian,” she told him. Cassian didn’t know if he agreed, though he did gather up her wrists to hold them over her head. Nesta arched, testing his grip which was ironclad and unmovable.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, lowering his head and rolling his hips at the same time. Nesta’s breath caught. “Do you want me to fuck you, Nes?”

“Yes,” she replied, her eyes fluttering shut. Cassian thrust into her, testing to see what she could take. 

“How about this?” he asked, pumping harder. Nesta whined softly, her breasts bouncing when he did it again and again. She was so responsive and so wet. Cassian had once prided himself on his ability to last. What a joke. He wasn’t going to make it another five minutes. Cassian reached between her legs and began to rub at her clit again, focusing on a steady rhythm rather than winding her up. There would be time once they were out of Hybern. He’d explain how to accept the bond and he’d have that time with her. 

He wondered if she knew the writhing need she felt was a result of their shared bond. Cassian might have told her if he’d had the capacity for speech. All he had was her beneath him, dragging her nails down his shoulders now that her hands were free. As she built back up, tightening around him with each new wave of pleasure, Nesta’s back left the bed until he was practically holding her in his lap with a shaking arm.

“Nesta,” he whispered into her hair. He was praying and he knew it and when Nesta’s teeth sank into his shoulder, biting to keep her from screaming again, Cassian could only plead, “Nesta.”

He was asking for mercy, for forgiveness, for absolution.

His orgasm shot through him like a storm, swallowing him entirely with violent, incandescent pleasure. More, more, more, something begged. He couldn’t, though. Not tonight, not yet. Working to catch his breath, Cassian merely held her until there was nothing left inside him. He could feel his release sliding between the space of their bodies, joining his original mess on the sheets. 

Nesta wound her arms around his neck, face buried in his skin. “You’re leaving.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll be back,” he swore. “And nothing will keep us apart again.”

He could all but smell her doubt, but Nesta nodded her head. “We’ll…we’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll have this time, Nes. I promise.”

Somewhere in the darkness, Cassian could hear screaming. Her screaming. Wake up, wake up, wake up— he groaned, lifting his head to try and get to her. A million knives cut into his back pulled him back under, but not before he saw Nesta Archeron fighting like hell. Screaming her lungs out, trying to get away. 

You promised! You promised! Cassian could hear Nesta screaming it in his head. You promised to keep me safe! 

He reached for her, fingers gripping the cool, smooth floors. Groaning, he tried to drag himself forward.

Darkness swept over him again.

You failed. 

You promised.

Cassian woke with a start, bucking in bed. “Nesta,” he breathed, ignoring both Rhysand and Mor sitting in his bedroom. “Where is Nesta?” Mor’s pretty face paled, confirming all his worst fears. Dead—Nesta was dead. Scrambling, Cassian reached into his chest but nothing was there—only empty space where a bond had once been. 

“Cassian,” Rhys said, rising to his feet, palms outstretched.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned, ignoring the pain radiating in his back. His wings. He’d forgotten his wings, shredded to nothing by Hybern. Twisting, he found them intact, bound carefully in gauze. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Nesta is alive,” Rhys said, his face carefully neutral. “She’s upstairs with Elain.”

“I need to see her,” Cassian said, ignoring that he was only in a pair of shorts and couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here. He remembered nothing of coming back, of whatever had been done to repair his body. All he remembered were flashes of Nesta, a gag in her mouth and her wrists bound. Of the Cauldron, of— “Right now.”

“Cass—”

“Right! Now!” he roared, pushing past two of his oldest friends. Neither of them tried to stop him, nor did they follow him. If Nesta was alive, why couldn’t he feel her? Why was the bond silent in his chest—a gaping wound that said she’d died? He didn’t believe Rhys or Mor, though rationally he knew they wouldn’t lie to him.  

Cassian forced himself up a winding set of stairs where the scent of Nesta was stronger. Heart pounding, he braced himself for something horrible. Maybe, he thought wildly, she’d broken the bond while he’d been unconscious and that was why he couldn’t feel her. Surely the magic would still obey her?

“Nes?” he called carefully, his palms clammy. Swallowing, Cassian made his way toward the study. “Nesta?”

He pushed open the door just as she stood, smoothing out the same amethyst dress she’d worn when they met. Cassian gripped the door frame, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. It was Nesta—and it wasn’t. Her beautiful face, her lithe form but magnified in the glow of immortality. Her eyes, lined silver with concern as she came toward him. And her ears…delicately arched through her neatly braided hair.

“You’re awake,” she said, stopping close enough to touch. Cassian forgot about the pain of his back in favor of his fractured heart. He took a breath as the bond returned, snapping as it once had all those weeks before. He caught her eyes flutter shut, saw the flickering relief grace her features.

“You died.” 

It wasn’t a question. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t move as she nodded her head. “Yes.”

The noise that escaped him drew her attention. Cassian didn’t care, reaching for her even as his legs gave out. The two of them fell to the floor in a heap of limbs, smooshed together as he tried to piece it all together. She’d gone in that Cauldron and he…he’d let it happen. 

“I’m sorry.”

Nesta twisted, mindful of his bound wings, so she could hold his face. “For what?”

“I promised to keep you safe—”

“I fought,” she whispered, interrupting him before he could fall apart. Tears pricked the back of Cassian’s eyes. “Just like you said. I took something, Cassian, I…”

Nesta swallowed, eyes darting toward the hall as though she expected someone to come bursting through.

“I think I came back wrong.”

Cassian shook his head. “No—no, you’re perfect. We’ll figure everything else out together. You…are…you’re living here?”

Nesta looked over his shoulder again, lowering her voice. “We can’t go back.”

We. Elain. “You’ll stay with me. I won’t leave you. Not again. Never again.”

Nesta pressed her forehead to his. “Okay.”

Raking his fingers through her hair, Cassian repeated himself. “I’m sorry, Nes. I’m so fucking sorry.”

But it was Nesta—sweet, too forgiving Nesta, even if no one but he knew it—who said, “I love you Cassian. There is nothing you could do I wouldn’t forgive.”

He didn’t plan to test that theory, though. “I love you, Nes. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

She took a breath. “Together.”

#nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #this is a DRABBLE #dont we all occasionally go insane and write 10k words in a day?

[ofduskanddreams]

All That Matters

For @c-e-d-dreamer and @cassianappreciationweek day 4. The request: Nessian. Any setting of your choosing, but how about something soft and sweet?

Nessian ✦ Rated M ✦ 867 words ✦ on AO3

CW: CANON-TYPICAL DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE

They sat on the river bank until the sun was fat and low in the sky, its orange fingers slinking through the willow boughs.

There was only the steady rise and fall of Cassian’s chest at her back, the warmth of him bleeding into her veins, and the I-love-you-s murmured back and forth at the same volume as the Sidra’s soft rush.

“Are you awake?” he whispered against her temple after a longer stretch of silence.

“For now,” Nesta replied, shifting to look at him. “But I’m not sure for how much longer.”

The reality of the last two days was finally settling into her bones now that the adrenaline had evaporated. The Rite, Briallyn, Nyx’s birth… exhaustion was lead seeping into her limbs and weighing them down, trying to draw her wholly into its grasp.

“Let’s go home then.” Cassian stood, then scooped her off the grass and into his arms. He launched them skyward and Nesta closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, the world had stilled again and Cassian was saying something. “... know you’re tired, but I need you to try to eat something first.”

He sounded so gentle, so worried about her, and Nesta smiled as she opened her eyes. This male—capable of a ferocity to rival the gods, yet wearing his heart for all to see… “I love you,” Nesta told him again, just because she could and it was decadent.

The house delivered them enough food for a small army, and Nesta managed to put away a plate and a half before her yawns began arriving at a frequency that made eating inconvenient.

Cassian noticed, of course he did. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can sleep.”

Nesta considered protesting, a testament to the extent of her exhaustion considering that she hadn’t bathed in over a week, but knew she would regret going to bed layered in the residue of the Rite.

Cassian ran the bath as she sat on the edge of the counter and watched him move about the room. He helped her out of her clothes, his touch mindful of the bruises still littering her skin. He joined her in the bath, carefully maneuvering her tired limbs until she was leaning back against him again. 

With a soft cloth, he worked honey-scented soap into a lather and began to clean away the grime. It was all Nesta could do to keep from dozing off.

But her closing eyelids snapped open when her mate took a shuddering breath that turned into a bitten off sob. Nesta turned around so quickly that she sent water careering over the sides.

“I could have killed you,” Cassian whispered in horror, looking down at his hands—they were trembling. 

She took his shaking fingers in her own and squeezed. “You didn’t. You fought her.” Nesta shuddered as she remembered the sight of Cassian plunging that knife into his own chest rather than hers.

He shook his head, “I wanted to hurt you, Nes. It was…” he trailed off, looking to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. 

A crystalline droplet streaked down his stubbled cheek and Nesta caught it with her thumb, coaxing him to face her.

“You weren’t yourself. That feeling wasn’t you—it was Briallyn and the Crown.”

The pain in his hazel eyes echoed through her and she drew him into her arms, holding him as tightly as she could.

“I thought…” Cassian drew a deep breath and held it, blowing it out slowly. “I thought I might never see you again. When I arrived at Emerie’s and you were missing, the smell of those males, of the drugs…” he shivered, putting his nose to her neck and taking another controlled breath. 

“I thought I might have lost you and then to see you on that mountain, to be a puppet, forced to watch myself try to harm you without knowing if I could resist it… gods, Nesta, I was so scared.”

He lost his grip on the rhythm of his lungs, breaths turning shallow again. 

“You did resist her, Cassian. That’s the only thing that matters.” Nesta traced patterns on his back and around the base of his wings as she held him. 

The house kept the water at a steady temperature even as their fingers wrinkled. Eventually, the tide of emotion Cassian had clearly been holding back receded. They took turns helping each other wash. 

A tired yet comfortable silence settled between them as they climbed out of the bath, hastily dried off, and then collapsed into her bed. 

In the darkness, her mouth found Cassian’s, and she kissed him, pouring everything she felt into the touch: relief, gratitude, and more love than Nesta had ever imagined herself to be capable of. 

Her friends and family were safe and healthy. She had her mate, and her home. There were many unresolved problems, sure, but they would still be there in the morning. 

All Nesta cared about now was the steady beat of Cassian’s heart beneath her ear. His even breaths filled the quiet, starlit room and Nesta’s lungs slowed their pace to match as she finally allowed reality to drift as dreamless sleep embraced her. 

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @itsthedoodle @moodymelanist @areyoudreaminof @octobers-veryown @krem-does-stuff @iftheshoef1tz @moonpatroclus @panicatthenightcourt @thelovelymadone @talons-and-teeth

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian acosf #nesta archeron #nesta acosf #pro nesta #acosf #acosf fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #acotar drabble #kate's celebratory drabbles series

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

How Could You Think, Darling, I'd Scare So Easily? (ao3)

The moment I heard this song, I just knew I had to write a Nessian drabble, and so here it is for day 3 of @nessianweek !

Set post-acofas and pre-acosf. Each night Cassian sits on the roof of the building across the street from Nesta’s apartment, waiting for a light in her window.

There was a light in her window.

A flickering flame, almost swallowed by the darkness, a candle fighting hard to stay lit in the draughts that slipped through the cracks in her window frames. 

Go home, Cassian.

The words she’d spat on a darkened road laden with snow, with venom on her tongue and agony in her chest. That Solstice night - weeks ago now, months - when she’d pushed him away so thoroughly he thought it a wonder there was any part of himself that remained unbroken, he’d taken it in his stride, let her walk away, only to follow her at a distance to make sure she got home safe.

Go home, Cassian.

Didn’t she realise that he was home? Wherever she was, whenever he was by her side— he was home. And it didn’t matter that she hissed and spat and clawed at him with that sharp tongue of hers. Fuck, it didn’t even matter that she had been out tonight, in a bar with other men. It killed him, but it didn’t matter when she took them home, didn’t matter that it wasn’t him waking up in her bed in the morning, or bringing her tea as the sun broke above the horizon. 

It didn’t matter, because no matter how much she tried to make him run— here he was.

Sitting on a rooftop across the street from her apartment, waiting in the darkness for a glimpse of a light in her window. A sign that she was home— that she’d made it back safe.

She was broken and hurting and trying desperately to find some way to mend, and gods, didn’t Cassian know well enough what that was like? Didn’t he remember his own anguish, his own agony, after his first war? So how could he judge her now— how could he fault her, when her heart was breaking as much as his?

And how could she ever think it would be enough to make him turn away?

His love was not feeble or fickle or fragile— it was unending and uncompromising and unwavering, and gods, how he wished she saw it. How he wished she knew that she was the beginning and ending of his everything, that which his entire world seemed to now revolve, and it was her name he whispered in the darkness each night, her face he saw behind closed eyelids. What was he, without her? Who had he been, in all those centuries he’d endured not knowing her name?

So it didn’t matter that she pushed him away.

None of it mattered.

Nesta was his, the one he’d almost died for, and when he promised her they’d have time he meant it— meant every fucking word he’d uttered as he lay there close to death. He wouldn’t turn from her now— not even with all the distance between them, all the words spoken in anger. 

And as that candle continued to flicker on her windowsill, he ran a hand through his hair and rose to his feet. He turned away, knowing that he’d be back tomorrow night. 

And the next, and the next. 

For however many nights it took until she was okay again… he’d be here, sitting on that rooftop. Waiting.

And with each tremble of that fragile flame in that distant window, he’d picture it— the day he’d wake with her by his side, her fingers woven tight with his, her eyes no longer stricken with the kind of grief that stole his breath, endless in its magnitude. The day he’d hold her again, kiss her the way he had in those last few moments on that battlefield, the kiss he’d thought would be his last. His heart ached behind his ribs, some piece of him shattering with every slam of her door in his face, but still—

It didn’t matter.

He wouldn’t break, could take anything she threw his way, and good gods, he’d been through enough to know that he’d go through it all again if it meant that at the end of it all, he got to hold her in his arms.

So he’d wait. 

He’d sit in the darkness and make sure she made it home. He’d stand back, waiting on the sidelines with his heart bruised black and blue, because he’d promised to find her and he’d meant it, and even if it took her a little longer to find her way back to him…

Cassian would deal with it. 

Because he was hers in every way imaginable, and oh, he loved her. And there was not a single thing in the world she could do that could shake the love from him, make it vanish from his heart. Nothing, no matter how hard she tried.

He’d wait for her. For a week, a month, a year. A century or a millennia. It didn’t matter. She was his, and he was hers, and someday, he knew, they would have the kind of forever that the poets and the bards sang about, the kind that made everything else cease to be. Someday, he would love her the way she deserved, cherish her the way she ought to have been cherished all along.  

It was just a matter of time.

#nessianweek2023 #nessian #nessian drabble #there is no plot here #just angst #Spotify

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

This is officially the last chapter of the 12 Days of Christmas series! I want to thank everyone who took a little of their time to read these stories. You guys mean the world to me and I'm so lucky to be able to write to such an amazing fandom. Every comment, every like, every reblog means everything to me and I take your appreciation with me every time I'm writing a new story.

You can also find this series on AO3

12th day of christmas - Christmas Dinner

A Blessing. All of it - Rhysand Drabble

The High Lord of the Night Court wasn’t known to be a very emotional male. He had a reputation all across Prythian, and it certainly wasn’t one that spoke of his sensitivities. He had a role to fill, and he had filled it gladly in order to protect his family. To protect Feyre.

That High Lord, however, was nowhere to be found tonight.

As his inner circle gathered around the dining table, chatting, and eating, Rhysand couldn’t help but feel unfiltered joy settle deep into his bones. Wherever he looked, love and happiness shone as bright as the candles flickering on the table, sending a warm haze all around the living room. The scent of holly and pine was as strong as scent of the meal Elain, Nuala and Cerridwen had so carefully prepared - and not nearly as mouthwatering.

By his side, Feyre sipped her wine as she chatted with Morrigan about her studio, his cousin offering her own advice every once in a while. Azriel, on the other side of the table, seemed too enthralled by whatever Elain was telling him to even notice the smile blooming on his face - a rare sight to see. For her part, Elain seemed just as enchanted. Across from Rhys, Nesta and Amren were engaged in a heated debate about books, Cassian chewing his food and nervously looking on as if prepared to intervene if necessary.

Rhys looked down at the babe drooling all over his shirt, a smile tugging up at his lips. Nyx had crashed only minutes after they had all sat down for dinner, the excitement of his first Solstice too draining for his tiny body. His little first was wrapped around Rhysand's sweater, his covered, little feet kicking him in the stomach every so often, as if Nyx was trying to take flight in his own dreams. Rhys was completely enraptured. Incredulous, too, seemed appropriate, for the truth was that he had lived many, many lives – had known loss, and heartbreak, and pain. But never had he known happiness like this; love like this. He’d never imagined he'd be deserving of it in the first place.

Now, he couldn’t imagine it being any different. Every tortuous road had led him to this table, surrounded by the people he had loved the most. As hard as it had been, they had all found each other – broken and lost – and against all odds they had made a family. A bickering, messy, but true family.

As he rubbed his son’s back, as he felt Feyre’s hand reach out for his under the table, he could feel no regrets - what had made him cold and lethal to the world had been what allowed them all to be here tonight. For that alone, he would not - could not - have changed a thing. No, he simply looked up at the stars and thanked them - tonight, there was no war, no duels, no political scheming. For at least tonight, it was their turn to just be.

And what a blessing that was.

#rhysand #pro rhysand #drabble #12 days of christmas acotar edition #elain archeron #azriel #elriel #feyre archeron #feysand #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #morrigan #amren #nyx #nyx x feyre x rhys #christmas fic #acotar fic

[ncssian]

time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires, now i’m missing your smile, hear me out. we could just ride around.

a/n: this is soooo long and MAJORLY unedited but it feels perfect for xmas eve so im posting it now. it might even be missing paragraphs but we ride

***

Nesta refused to go fully no-contact with her sisters. To this day, she didn’t know why, but that was how she found herself standing outside Feyre’s house for her mandatory family dinner, held only three times a year.

Three times a year, Nesta had to dress up and submit herself to a painfully awkward night of being left out of conversations and eating mediocre food. Tonight it was for Thanksgiving. She’d long resigned herself to the torture of it all, and she was nothing but grateful that it was only three nights out of the whole year.

That still didn’t make knocking on the door any easier, however.

“Nesta?” a voice behind her asked, immediately raising every hair on her neck. She turned away from the front door to find a familiar face walking up the lit pathway to the manor’s stone porch, approaching her.

Oh God. “Cassian?”

Wow, did he look… different. In the three years since he’d left to work for the Peace Corps, Cassian’s muscles had subtly grown not bigger, but more defined, his clothes now better-fitting. His dark hair was shorter than she’d ever seen it before, no longer wild and untamed, but still long enough to fall near his chin. He looked so tame in comparison to the hulking giant she’d used to know.

He laughed and rushed up to her to sweep her into a crushing bear hug, making her gasp in surprise. They’d never been close enough in the past for a greeting this enthusiastic, but maybe the Peace Corps had made him demented. “How have you been?” he exclaimed, setting her down on her feet and placing a hand at her shoulder so she wouldn’t tip over. “I was wondering whether I’d get to see you tonight.”

Nesta could only open and shut her mouth, no words coming out. “You’re back,” was all she could say.

He grinned wide. His smile had remained the same. “I am.”

Her mind frantically flipped through the encyclopedia of social etiquette. “It’s good to see you again,” she forced out. “How was—life?”

His laugh was quiet, but she didn’t know what was funny. “I should be asking you the same thing. What are you waiting out here in the cold for?” He nudged her softly.

“Just trying to work up the nerve to knock on the door,” she answered honestly.

“I see.” He nodded. “Well, if we both put our heads together, I'm sure we can manage it before dinner is served.”

Was he making fun of her? His manner seemed serious and earnest, and it was confusing the hell out of Nesta.

Just then, the door swung open, a rush of light and warmth spilling out onto the front porch. “I thought I heard a ruckus outside,” Elain said, thin brows furrowing as her gaze swung to Nesta, then quickly smoothing out with a smile as her eyes landed on Cassian. “Come get out of the cold," she said. "We’re so glad you could make it.”

Nesta knew Elain was addressing both of them, but she couldn’t help but feel the last part had been directed to Cassian more than her.

Cassian swept inside with a grin and greeted Elain with a kiss to her cheek, and Nesta had to force herself to look away. Suddenly the hug she’d gotten no longer felt like overkill. A kiss had to mean more than a hug, right?

“You both are a little late, but you haven’t missed much. I’ll bring everyone else to the dining room,” Elain said, before wandering off down one of the mansion’s grand hallways to get the rest of their friends.

Nesta took in a subtle breath, but a deep one nonetheless, as she set about taking her coat off. It was stupid to be so anxious about a simple dinner. In no less than four hours, she'd be tucked in her warm bed with a swoony romance book, and the whole evening would disappear like the fragments of a bad dream. This was nothing.

Cassian came up to her side as they made their way to the dining room, bending down to speak into her ear. "There's so much I want to catch up with you about. I wish I'd known you were going to be here earlier, I would've prepared more."

Nesta's responding look was confused, if not bewildered. Prepared for what? Was there something grating about her presence that required preparation? He kept saying things that sounded like potential jabs in the softest, friendliest manner.

She ran her jittery hands down the sleek low ponytail of her hair, then the blue velvet of her simple dress. "Yes, well." She didn't follow through with the rest of the sentence.

They arrived at the dining room, where it was both a relief and a weight to no longer be alone with just Cassian. Everyone else in her sister's little friend group was already there, ooh-ing and aah-ing over the platters of food and rushing to claim seats at the table.

Nesta heard several exclamations of "Cassian's here!", all of which she ignored as she tried to decide which seat would suit her best tonight. She might have heard Cassian say, "Nesta's here, too," but it was quickly swallowed up and lost to the rest of the room's conversation.

Cassian took a seat next to Azriel and started pulling out the empty chair beside him. His eyes searched for and met Nesta's just as she picked her seat on the opposite side of the table, near the very end. A look of defeat took over his face as Morrigan took the chair beside him. Nesta didn't understand what the look was supposed to mean, but as it was awkward not to smile at someone after a certain amount of eye contact had been made, she offered him a small smile that probably came off as a tiny grimace before looking away.

After a lot of scrambling around, Elain ended up seated on Nesta's right. Not too bad, as conversation with Elain was less likely to make Nesta's skin crawl than with others at the table.

Everyone started piling their plates with food, and Nesta let Elain take her plate to serve her. It was easier than drawing attention to herself by reaching out and getting the food on her own.

"You shouldn't have come so late, Cassian," Feyre said from the head of the table. "You missed all the appetizers, they’re all finished now."

“Don’t tell me you didn’t save me any of Elain’s lobster rolls,” he said with wide eyes, acting offended.

Elain giggled at that, but the sound seemed more calculated than genuine. It probably wasn't nice to think everything that your sister did was calculated, but Nesta wasn't feeling very nice tonight. She felt like staring into her mashed potatoes while dreaming about a handsome man crashing this dinner party and promptly sweeping her off her feet.

Morrigan and Feyre led the conversation by gossiping about some work friend of Rhysand's they'd run into on their latest shopping trip, and time melded around Nesta and held her captive. She imagined she'd been painted to match the printed wallpaper behind her, rendering herself invisible to the rest of the room.

To everyone except one, that was. But everytime she accidentally made eye contact with Cassian, she looked away before he could even register it. By the time she looked back, he'd refocused on whatever jokes or stories his friends were telling.

Thirty minutes passed by without anyone asking Nesta a question. She counted each one, until—

"So what do you do these days?"

It took a long moment of awkward silence before Nesta looked up from her plate to find Cassian staring at her, his eyes warm. She realized the question had been directed at her. "Me?" she said in disbelief, because she needed the confirmation.

"No, one of these other losers," he teased. Some made noises of mock-offense, while others stifled their laughter.

Nesta shifted uncomfortably at how all the attention in the room had shifted to her. Being ignored wasn't fun, true, but this was far worse. "I run a dance studio," she answered. She didn't mention anything about how she was also a ghostwriter of romance novels on the side, although maybe she might have admitted it if they'd been alone.

Cassian's eyes lit up, and he imperceptibly leaned forward over the table. "No way. What kind of dance?"

"Um, just pole for now." Normally she'd leave it at that, but something in her wanted to give the full picture to Cassian. "I'm working on hiring more teachers and splitting it into contemporary and hip-hop-based classes, though."

"No ballet?"

She shook her head, distracting herself from his heavy gaze by taking a bite of salad. Ballet had been Nesta's first love, even more so than the ballroom dancing her grandmother had forced upon her, but she'd been bitter for a long time at how puberty and big boobs had taken away any chance she'd had to dance professionally. More than that, its ways were too rigid and painful, and Nesta would rather teach students how to let go rather than restrain themselves.

"That's crazy," he said, grinning. "I never imagined you doing anything than classical."

Right. He'd seen tapes of her old performances once a long time ago, though she was surprised he still remembered them.

"Nesta got the idea from dancing at that strip club a few years ago," Morrigan interjected with a wave of her fork.

Nesta's face flamed with heat at the misinformation, because even though there was nothing wrong with being a stripper, there were certain things you couldn't say to certain people without being judged for it. Like announcing that you wrote erotica in your free time, or that you were bisexual.

"It was just a regular club, and I was a go-go dancer," she corrected, as if that would lighten the blow. Rhysand made a noise that implied this was not much better than stripping.

"Holy shit, how much have I missed?" Cassian sat back in his chair in disbelief, not picking up on the light waves of discomfort that floated around the group whenever Nesta's past was brought up. Then again, he'd never found anything about her to be uncomfortable.

After Feyre and Rhysand had cut off all sources of her income, she’d been forced to find a real job. Dancing was the only thing she’d been good at doing, and she knew from the seedy bars she frequented that one of the nearby nightclubs was hiring. Thanks to her body and skills, she’d been able to indulge her alcohol problem off tips alone, at least until she’d made the decision to get her life together. That had been a year and a half ago.

But she couldn’t tell any of this to Cassian. She didn’t need to, either, because Amren answered his question for her. “Nesta's unrecognizable from when you last saw her, isn't she?" she drawled. "Don't worry; I promise her personality's still the same."

"Indeed," Rhysand grumbled, and a few others laughed.

Cassian still had that smile glued to his face, but it now looked frozen and false, as if he was no longer happy but didn’t know what to do about it.

But the conversation was out of his control now, due to the unfortunate fact that once attention landed on Nesta, it was usually difficult to make it go away. The next thing she knew, she was being bombarded with questions from all sides of the table.

"Were you late tonight because of that old Toyota again? I told you you could afford a new car if you took up my job offer."

"One of my friends took a class at your studio and said it wasn't too bad. You should give me a free membership so I can see for myself."

"What's your new address again?" This one from Feyre. "I need it for my Christmas cards."

Nesta blinked hard, head spinning at everyone's words being thrown at her, wondering how unacceptable it would be if she just—snapped. Wondering if maybe she could get herself uninvited from these things from good.

"I—" Mor started to lob another question.

“Let the woman fucking breathe, Jesus,” Cassian chuckled into his wine glass, cutting her off. But it was targeted at the whole room to hear, and the bitterness beneath it was clear.

The room went still. Awkwardness, sharp and cold as ice, swept over the dinner table until Nesta felt like her bones were frozen in place.

When no one responded, Cassian took a large gulp of wine and set the glass down with a dull thud. “I mean, if we want her to come around more often maybe we shouldn’t be giving her reasons to never visit,” he said, his voice too loud in the quiet room.

“We’re just catching up since we never get to see her,” Feyre said, sounding hurt and defensive at the same time.

Rhysand’s barely-audible growl implied he wanted to kill whoever had put that hurt in her tone—which in this case and most cases, was Nesta.

“That’s enough,” a delicate but firm voice beside Nesta said. She felt a soft hand rest on her arm, and looked up to find Elain’s sympathetic brown eyes watching her. But when Elain opened her mouth to speak again, all that came out was, “Eat more, will you? You’re so skinny it’ll make the rest of us look bad.”

Nesta had actually been gaining healthy weight lately, but for some unfathomable reason this was Elain’s attempt at diffusing the hostility in the room, so Nesta hummed a sound that technically counted as a response and busied herself with picking at her cut of roast beef.

Her lack of aggression seemed to satisfy the table, and one by one, people slowly went back to ignoring her and redirecting their focus to another topic of conversation.

Not even a minute later, Morrigan cackled far louder than required at something Azriel had said, causing Nesta's shoulders to inch up toward her ears. The hand that held her fork had fallen still, and Nesta’s other hand was fluttering subtly on the table, her index finger digging sharply into the thin skin around her thumbnail. The pain was a welcome balm to her agitated nerves.

She forced her hand to straighten out and lie still when she noticed Cassian's gaze on her. The action only sent her pent-up nerves straight to her spine, where she feared they would spontaneously combust and cause a meltdown in front of the whole table.

But then she met his eyes, and something in her heart choked, then settled.

She’d long forgotten the true hazel of his eyes. Hazel could be any color and every color, but looking at Cassian now, even from this distance in this weak lighting, her brain was starting to fill in the gaps of her memory. So many shades of brown and yellow speckled with blue-green colliding together, reminding her of undiscovered planets.

He was the first to pull his gaze away, but it was slow and required effort. Spell broken, Nesta’s own gaze dropped to her plate. At the very least, she no longer felt like ripping her fingernails off.

Nesta was left fairly alone for the rest of the meal, but the odd tension that had formed with Cassian and spread over the rest of the room didn’t dissipate. Even when everyone once again became lost to bantering and arguing with each other, Nesta felt the sense of awareness burning along every line of her body. She tried telling herself it was just in her head, but when she caught Amren sneaking a glance at her out of the corner of her eye, it was undeniable.

As more and more people finished their plates, they got up from the table to use the bathroom, talk on the phone, or wander into the adjacent drawing room to make use of its minibar. Among the noise, Nesta quietly excused herself and made a beeline for the emptiest part of the first floor of the house.

Alone in the kitchen, she finally allowed herself a deep intake of air. It felt like her first breath all night.

Shuffling toward the liquor cabinet, she pulled the first bottle of red wine she could find and grabbed herself a glass. Low footsteps behind her made her look over her shoulder before she could open the bottle.

It was just Cassian. Though the sight of him made her insides flutter, she didn't think he would judge her for drinking, so she turned back to her glass and uncorked the bottle.

"I needed some air," he spoke after a few moments of silence. Nesta nodded as she filled her glass perhaps a little too high. He took a few more steps toward the counter where she stood, and she belatedly realized that he was trying to engage in conversation with her.

Her brain scrambled for something to say, and just as she thought of asking him if he wanted some wine as well, Cassian was speaking again. "I'm sorry for everyone's behavior back there. It was super embarrassing."

Oh no, Nesta internally groaned. She'd almost rather put up with Feyre's lecturing and Amren's nitpicking than deal with an apology.

"They're not usually like this," he promised. "Someone must have spiked their drinks tonight."

Nesta didn't bother telling him that he was wrong. She didn't know how to react to such an unexpected statement. "There's nothing to apologize for," she said, sounding stilted and awkward. "I'm not really a sensitive person."

"Still," he said, looking up at her, "the vibes in this place are so weird tonight." He shuddered to himself. "Don't you feel weird?"

Was he referring to his friends, the sharp-edged way they spoke to her, or something else? "Maybe because it's your first time back in a long time." Nesta shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Well, I'm not. In fact, I can think of a dozen other things I'd rather be doing right now than having dinner here."

Nesta glanced at him, her eyes widened in surprise. "Haven't you missed your friends, though? They're so excited to see you."

He shook his head. "This is honestly, like, our fifth meeting together since I got back. I see them all the time."

"Ah."

"What about you?" he pressed. "Do you want to stay or go?"

Nesta looked around the kitchen as if someone else might have walked in during their conversation and he was talking to them instead. "What do you mean?" she said.

He let out a small laugh. "Do you want to ditch this dinner?"

"But—wouldn't that be rude?"

He shrugged as if the consequences didn't matter much to him. "The door's right there." He gestured with his head toward the hallway leading to the foyer.

Nesta didn't know what overcame her. She chugged as much of her glass of wine as she could and set it down with a thump, looking at Cassian. Less than a minute later, they were speeding out the front door on quiet feet, stifling laughter and the jingle of car keys as they went.

***

"What about my car?" Nesta asked as Cassian started up his Ford truck, turning the heat up to full blast.

"We'll come back for it later tonight," he promised, shifting into drive and pulling away from the hulking mansion. "After everyone's gone, so you don't have to run into them."

"That'll take hours, though," she said, chewing the inside of her cheek. There was never such thing as a short dinner when Feyre's inner circle were gathered together.

"I've got hours to kill," he shrugged, then glanced over at her. "You can go home whenever you want, though. I can drop you off or take you back to your car."

Nesta took half a second to mourn her dream of cuddling in bed with her books all night, then got past it. This wasn't such a bad replacement for her former plans, anyhow.

"What should we do?" she asked, hesitant excitement bubbling in her stomach. Cassian opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "Should we go to the movies? I wanted to see that new horror comedy—"

"I thought it wasn't out for another week."

"Oh." She sat back, trying to think of something else. "Is Nude still in theaters?"

Cassian chuckled. "Don't think so, Nes."

She ignored how the nickname made her feel. "What about Back to Black?"

"Director's a creep."

"The new Marvel movie?"

"Terrible reviews, and you hate mega-franchises."

True. "...Maybe we can just keep driving around?" she finally suggested.

Cassian surrendered with a cheery grin. "I love that idea." He glided into the right lane and made a turn that led them straight onto the highway. The truck hummed as it accelerated from 45 to 70.

In the dark lit only by the dashboard lights, Nesta kicked her heels off and stretched out in her seat, letting herself smile. She could hardly remember why she'd been struggling for air back at that dinner. This, driving at night with Cassian in silence, was one of the most relaxing feelings she'd ever experienced.

Even so, she was surprised to find she didn't mind it much when Cassian eventually interrupted the quiet.

“I really did miss you.” His words took her by surprise, and it must have showed in the look she threw him.

He chuckled lowly. “Is it that hard to believe?”

It was, actually, though Nesta didn’t tell him that. “I just don’t remember us being that close,” she said, shrugging. They’d rarely talked without Feyre or one of her friends in the room, and when they had talked alone, the conversations hadn’t been very deep. He’d tried to tease and challenge her in the beginning, as she was sure he did with every worthy person who came his way, but when Nesta was unresponsive to his efforts, he eventually dropped the asshole act.

“We weren’t,” Cassian agreed, “but sometimes your favorite people are the ones you see the least.”

That made Nesta’s breath hitch. He couldn’t mean it the way she thought he meant it. She couldn’t be his favorite.

"I had a huge crush on you when we first met, you know," he added.

Nesta’s shoulders deflated, in either relief or disappointment, she didn’t know. Of course; that was what he’d meant. She gave him a dry look in response. "Yeah, I sensed that."

He did a double-take from the road to her. "You did?"

It had been painfully obvious any time they were in the same room together, with the weight of Cassian's gaze feeling like hefting a barbell of anxiety and discomfort and embarrassment. She remembered how her skin would itch with how she blushed, how her throat would close up and her breathing would shallow out. It had felt like suffering from an allergic reaction.

Nesta didn't say any of that to Cassian now, though. "What made you stop liking me?" she asked instead, propping her elbow on the passenger-side window and leaning her head against her fist. She was genuinely curious to hear his answer. It had happened before she'd fallen too deep into her hole of depression and brought shame onto Feyre and the Archeron name, so it couldn't have been the fact that she'd been a hot mess. "Was I too rude? Too quiet? Too boring?" How had she let him down?

"What?" Cassian looked over at her like she'd gone insane. "No."

"Then what was it that made you stop liking me?" Because Cassian had stopped liking Nesta at a certain point. After a few awkward conversations and a failed attempt to spend time alone with her, Cassian had pulled away from Nesta as if he'd never known her in the first place. The heavy gazes lessened, then stopped altogether, and the conversation would rarely go past a friendly "hello" up until the day Cassian had left for the Peace Corps.

Cassian bit down on his lip, looking both amused and flustered by her scientific questioning. "I didn't stop liking you. I just stopped chasing you."

That information took Nesta by surprise. She was stunned, still figuring out what to say in response when Cassian continued, "I was too young and too stupid back then. I didn't know how to make decisions for myself, and I let other people convince me not to go after the things I wanted. I regretted it for a long time while I was away overseas, but eventually I just had to get over it, you know?"

Nesta blinked, staring out the windshield and saying nothing.

He'd wanted her. Even when she was drinking and fucking her way through every bar and club in the city, he'd wanted her, all the way up until the day he left—and even after that, if she was understanding him correctly.

"Anyway, what about you?" Cassian said, changing the topic. "You been seeing anyone lately?"

"Why? Are you asking for yourself?" She meant it to be taunting, but her natural deadpan tone made most things she said sound serious.

Cassian made a noise that sounded like a choked cough. "It was just a question."

She tried not to be disappointed at his response, even though it was no surprise that he was over her by now. Why would he be interested in reigniting something that had never sparked in the first place?

"No," she finally answered, her voice sounding small but not weak. "I haven't really been interested in meeting people lately, not even for casual hookups."

He threw a glance over at her, the surprise subtle but there. "Can I ask why?"

She shrugged, never having had to explain the answer to anyone else before. "I don’t like putting myself in situations where men want my body. I already feel like a blowup sex doll as it is, so it’s better to not date at all."

"Why would you feel like that?" Cassian said, the slightest hint of alarm and concern creeping into his tone. "Did somebody call you that?"

She shifted in her seat, feeling awkward at being put on the spot. "I don’t know, it’s just the way my body’s built. I’m always getting asked whether I do porn or have an OnlyFans. People always give me their unwanted opinions on my boobs or my hips or my butt."

"Who said that to you?" he demanded.

"I was a go-go dancer, remember?"

"That's not an answer." His voice was hard. "Or an excuse."

"I only told you because you asked why I don't date," she said sharply, suddenly cold. "I don't need your pity." And she was regretting opening up so much to him so soon.

Cassian opened his mouth to speak and she cut him off before he could decide to pity her anyway. "What would you do with the names of my harrassers, anyway? Find them and beat them up? Give them a real piece of your mind?" she mocked. "You can barely stand up to your own friends when they're being dickheads, tough guy."

Cassian made a choking sound, which soon devolved into wheezing, and when Nesta finally looked over at him she found that his shoulders were shaking with restrained laughter. Her brows scrunched up in confusion, her nerves getting whiplash from the sudden shift in mood.

"Holy shit, there she is," he barely got out between laughs of disbelief. "Where the hell was she all this time?"

"Who?" Her bafflement must have been written all over her face.

"The proud Nesta I first met so many years ago," he stated. "The one who'd rather choke to death on her own arrogance than give in to someone else."

Nesta felt like he'd just pointed to an obvious crumbling corpse that everyone else was trying hard to forget was in the room. That prideful Nesta was the opposite of the person she was trying to be these days, even though her ghost might have made an appearance when she'd been a little unnecessarily rude to Cassian just now.

She only shook her head, denying that old version of herself's right to exist. "I don't have the time or energy to be that person anymore. And I hate getting into fights. Losing all the time gets exhausting fast."

Instead of responding with something witty, Cassian drummed his thumbs against the steering wheel, his tongue poking into his cheek as he clearly thought something over. "The Nesta I knew never used to lose an argument," he finally said.

"A lot of things change once you lose all your financial and social capital," she murmured, almost too quiet for him to hear. It was the closest they'd gotten all night to touching upon that uncomfortable period of her life—Alcoholic Whore Gone Wild, as Amren had coined it. But she couldn't bear exposing that part of her past to Cassian, even though he'd already witnessed it with his own two eyes. She refused to say more, not wanting him to remember what a mess she'd been only a few years ago.

"Is it Rhys and the rest of the guys?" Cassian said, plowing right through the topic she was trying to avoid. "Did they outnumber you into changing so you'd fit into his PR campaigns or something?"

Cassian was scarily close to being on the nose of what had actually gone down, and it made Nesta flare her nostrils in defense. "I don't think we're close enough to be talking about things like this." She was back to being cold, even though it required more effort this time. "Change the subject."

"Fine," he said casually, though not even the dark could hide the subtle tightness of his jaw. "Let's go back to that sex-doll thing then. Did that start before or after I left?"

"Are you my therapist?" she felt the need to resist against him.

"Do you ever answer questions without another question?" he shot back. When Nesta still refused to budge, he released a sigh. "You just never seemed to me like someone who gave a shit about how others saw you. That was what made you Nesta. So yeah, sue me if I wanna know more about how your pretty little brain works."

Nesta swallowed his words like a rough pill, doing her best not to linger on the word "pretty". Now that he didn’t seem so uncomfortably shocked by her confession, she twisted toward him like she was telling a juicy story. Honestly, she felt a perverted excitement at getting to discuss parts of her life that she never got to speak about otherwise. "I used to not care that much about it," she started, "but one day while I was alone at home I saw my ass in skinny jeans in the mirror. I don’t know, it just flipped a switch in me. I felt so dirty. Like an object to be used instead of a person. And I realized that was how most people probably perceived me, too. It freaked me out so bad I just retreated from men and the dating pool altogether."

She felt dirty going out in certain clothes, and dirtier still when other people looked at her in those clothes. Even the dress she’d worn tonight, formfitting with the neckline cut out to accentuate her chest, had required her to avoid full-length mirrors while getting ready. She knew it wasn’t normal to feel the way she felt, but she also knew there wasn’t much to be done about it.

Cassian let out a low whistle. "That’s fucked."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"No." His answer was smooth. "But I think you'll get mad at everything else I want to say, so I'll leave it at that. It's really fucked you have to feel that way, Nesta."

Her swallow was tight, and she was more than a little surprised. Never in a million years could the Nesta of three years ago have imagined Cassian talking with her about things like this, and more than that, comforting her.

In truth, she had thought about Cassian too while he was gone. She wouldn’t say she’d missed him, because she didn’t know how to miss something she never had, but there’d been an empty longing on the rare occasions she thought of him. A bittersweet desire for what could have been, if only she’d been less of a mess and more of an easy person to be around.

She didn’t know how to tell him this, so she settled for, “For what it's worth, I really am happy that you're back.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cassian stifle a smile. He roughly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “You wanna go to Town Square and see the Christmas lights?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.”

Nesta tucked her feet beneath herself and got comfortable, and they continued driving in companionable silence. Twinkling holiday lights and towering decorations passed in a blur outside the windows, and at one point Cassian stopped at an In-N-Out to order fries and a milkshake. "You didn't eat much back at the house," was his only explanation as he handed the food over to Nesta.

She accepted the kindness without complaint, happily munching on fries and melting into her heated seat. Something about the warm truck made her forget time was moving, but the next time she pulled her gaze away from the windshield to check the clock, she saw it was already midnight.

Cassian seemed to take note of it at the same time she did. “Damn, I have an early morning tomorrow…” He trailed off, not stating the obvious—that their little getaway drive had to come to an end.

“Me too,” Nesta lied, so she didn’t sound stupid for wanting to stay like this, driving in silence.

She turned on her phone for the first time all night, finding no less than five missed calls and a handful of upset texts from her sisters. Holding back a grimace, she shut her phone off again. "Maybe you can drop me off at home instead of at Feyre’s."

"You sure?" Cassian looked over at her. "What about your car?"

She waved a hand. "I'll get it back later. I just want to be home right now."

Cassian didn’t hesitate before making a U-turn off the left lane. “You still live in Brentwood?” he asked casually.

Brentwood, with the roach-infested grimy one-bedroom she’d inhabited in the depths of her depression, back when it was all she could afford and all she could stomach to come home to after a long day of self-hatred.

Unlike most, Cassian had never judged her for it. He’d even shown up on her ratty doorstep one Christmas Eve to drop off gifts from her sisters, saying nothing but that he hoped she would be okay, and to have a merry Christmas. There was no direct mention of her obvious miserable state, but no tense avoidance of it, either. It had been the most ordinary interaction Nesta’d had that year: short, sweet, and simple.

Nesta blinked herself out of the sudden memory. Being reunited with Cassian was bringing back too many moments she’d forgotten had happened. She shook her head, even though he probably couldn’t see. “I moved to Goldridge.”

“Ooh, fancy,” he teased. He pulled out his phone and held it out to her. “Put your address into the GPS.”

Clicking on his phone, Nesta found notifications for several missed calls and texts on his screen as well. They were at least double the amount she had, but she didn’t let her eyes linger on the messages as she swiped up onto the home screen. Of course he didn’t have a password on his phone. He could be so dumb sometimes.

Typing her address into his Maps app, she turned the navigation on and set his phone down in the cupholder between them.

Cassian glanced over to it and squinted to read her address while he drove. "That's only twenty minutes away from where I live."

"Really?" Nesta perked up, intrigued. In the past, Cassian had always been an hour or so away, considering the heavy traffic between Velars and it's poorer outskirt cities. Now he was basically her neighbor. "But isn’t it far from your friends and family?”

She'd purposely chosen her current home for the distance it placed between her and said friends and family.

Cassian shrugged as he merged onto the highway. “Not too far, but not too close, either.”

The rest of the drive passed with light conversation between them. Addicted to how the low rumble of his voice paired with the darkness of the night roads made her feel fuzzy and sleepy, Nesta let Cassian ramble to her about his time in Tunisia while she leaned back in her seat, her eyes millimeters away from drooping shut.

Sometime later, Cassian pulled up to the curb of her brownstone townhouse and put the truck into park. He let out a low whistle as he inspected the tall windows and the quality brickwork, then looked back at Nesta, who was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes, with an embarrassed grin. “I’m a fool. I completely forgot to ask how you ended up with your dance studio.”

Nesta opened her mouth to tell him about her business, but Cassian shook his head fast. “Don’t tell me now. I want to hear the whole story, sometime when the night isn’t right about to end.”

Sometime other than now…? “What do you mean?” she voiced.

He met her gaze with serious intention, no amusement or nervousness to be found. “I’d like to see you again, Nesta Archeron.”

The words hung between them like the start of a promise.

Despite the sudden warmth flooding her insides, Nesta was hesitant with her answer. She still didn't completely trust Cassian—nor herself when she was around him. She didn't want to spiral into obsession over him just for him to break her heart. She still needed to test the rock face of this thing between them, checking for cracks and loose areas that could give way. “I’ll think about it," she finally said.

Cassian's lips slowly curled up into a clever smile, looking like he'd just won a prize. "Give me your keys." He held his broad hand out.

Nesta frowned. "What for?"

"I'll bring your car over in the morning. It'll be a quick drop-off."

"You really don't need to..." She trailed off as Cassian reached over and stuck his hand in her tiny purse, quickly finding and pulling out the shiny keys. He jingled them in her face. "Thanks for these," he said, as if she were the one doing him a favor.

She opened her mouth, closed it, then nodded. She'd given up on trying to keep pace with their conversations, especially not when he rendered her speechless so often. "I should get inside now," she said.

"Don't freeze on the way to the door," he said, even though it couldn't have been more than a ten second walk. Again, was he teasing or being genuine? Or somehow both at the same time?

"Get home safe," she responded, because that was the only phrase her encyclopedia for social etiquette held right now. She exited the car and reached inside again to grab her purse. She might have left it behind so she'd have an excuse to linger in the pinecone-scented warmth of his truck for a bit longer. Eventually, she had to force her head out of the front seat, away from Cassian's kind smile and gorgeous eyes. "Goodnight, Cassian." Nesta shut the door between them, eager to end their interaction quickly so she could go inside and spend the whole night thinking about him.

Even with the door shut and the windows too dark to make out Cassian's face, Nesta swore she could feel it in her bones when he murmured back, "Goodnight, Nesta."

***

a/n: the gifts were not from her sisters…but that’s a story for later (never)

tags:

@rarephloxes @moodymelanist @arinbelle @sayosdreams @bridgertononmymind @live-the-fangirl-life @a-court-of-valkyries @secretlovelybeauty @humanexile @helion-ism @my-fan-side @royaltykxx @xoblivisci @planet-faerie @katekatpattywack @imagine-me @meridainthedisneyland @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @rainbowcheetah512 @valkyriewarriors @loosingdreams @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @perseusannabeth @that-golden-lyre @swankii-art-teacher @laylaameer01 @awesomelena555 @claralady @ghostlyrose2 @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @cassianscool @wannawriteyouabook @everything-that-i-love @sv0430 @xstarlightsupremex @faeriebambula

#nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #ncssianwrites #taylor swift song drabbles #ncssian asks #nessian fic

[labellefleur-sauvage]

could you please write something about cassian and nesta fighting about something and it ends up in very steamy sex???

I read the word ‘steamy’ and took that literally, so here’s a little drabble for you…

XXX

After finishing a fierce private snowball fight between themselves, Nesta and Cassian continue their heated battle in the birchin.

Pairing: Nesta/Cassian

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1.6K

XXX

“That snowball grazed your wing and you know it!”

“It did not.”

“Yes, it did!” Nesta shot back. “ I can still see the snow on your wingtip.”

“It’s snowing out—of course there’s snow on my wings.”

“There’s a giant lump of snow right where my snowball—!”

“Nesta, Nesta, Nesta,” Cassian interrupted, shoving his hands in his pockets and slowing his walk to an infuriatingly slow pace as Nesta fumed at his side. “Just admit that I, the General of the Night Court, one of the strongest Illyrian warriors to ever live, and a winner of … uh, several snowball fights—“

“And a giant, self-centered ass—“

“Beat you fair and square in our one-on-one,” Cassian ended, giving his mate a condescending grin while she grit her teeth.

Nesta stomped her way through the snow leading to the cabin, her face twisted in anger. Cassian swore he saw the snow falling around her head melt. “And I think you’re an arrogant cheater who can’t admit that his wife beat him in a snowball fight.”

“Hey now,” Cassian said, holding up his hands placatingly, “I’d have no problem admitting that my gorgeous and sexy Valkyrie wife bested me in a snowball fight.”

“Then why don’t you admit it?”

“Because I won.”

Nesta groaned and stalked ahead of him. Cassian laughed. When he’d asked Rhys weeks ago if he and Nesta could borrow the cabin in the mountains for some quality alone time—“For Nes and I to start making our own traditions,” he’d asked his brother, while Rhys only smirked and told him not to break anything—Cassian thought they’d spend the time lounging about with warm drinks, cuddling by the fire, or making dinner together. Normal things.

Instead, as soon as they arrived and dropped their bags by the bed, Nesta twirled on him.

“A snowball fight,” she’d demanded, her gray eyes bright. “Right now. I’m curious to see how good you really are, since you usually lose to your brothers every Solstice.”

Nesta had strutted out of the cabin without a backward glance and Cassian trailed along after her, unable to resist her challenge. What followed was a furious snowball fight that reminded him of battles from the war with Hybern: intense, exhausting and draining, but without any bloodshed.

Their relationship, especially the start, could be summed up the same way, Cassian thought, watching his mate climb back up the hill towards the cabin, her firm backside flexing with every step. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the sight, imagining what else they could do to pass the time together in the cabin.

Right before she reached the front door, Nesta turned and walked to the edge of the house. Cassian grinned; he was also planning on relaxing in the birchin, and knew Nesta wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easily.

By the time he let himself into the birchin, warm steam had filled the room and heat smacked him in the face when he opened the door.

“Hurry up and get in, you’re letting out the warmth.”

Nesta was already naked and sitting on a bench, save for a small towel wrapped around her body. She watched Cassian with a bored look as he hurriedly undressed. An eyebrow twitched as he dropped his pants and reached for a towel.

“Are you always so excited after a fight?”

“Just when it’s with you,” Cassian replied automatically, sitting on the opposite bench facing Nesta, the thin towel around his hips doing little to conceal his erection.

“Well, I don’t fuck snowball fight cheaters,” she sneered, looking him up and down.

“What about snowball fight winners?”

“I wouldn’t know, since you didn’t win.”

“Get over it, sweetheart,” Cassian grinned, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. “Our inaugural snowball fight as a mated couple ended with me victorious and you the loser.”

Nesta’s eyes briefly traveled to the wide expanse of his chest before she returned her cool gaze to his. “Must be a nice change for you to win for once. I can see why you lose to your brothers every year. You barely beat me.”

Cassian clenched his jaw. “Needed to pull my punches, so to speak, to make things competitive with you.”

Nesta snorted. “Don’t lie. I saw the sweat running down your face. You were throwing snowballs like your life depended on it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re just a sore loser. You can never admit when I’m better than you at something—which is all the time, in case you forgot.”

She scoffed. “Name one thing—“

“I beat you in boxing that one time we spared. I swept you three times, and you barely made me stumble.”

“You’re a giant and have more than a hundred pounds on me,” Nesta said, her hands gripping the edge of the bench.

“Or that one time I beat you at solving those Solstice riddles Feyre came up with.”

“You only won because you had Gywn as a partner. You were a bottle of wine in and couldn’t even spell your own name.”

“I’m better than you with a sword.”

“Is that what you call touching yourself now?”

Cassian couldn’t stop the small chuckle that escaped his mouth. The laugh turned into a groan as Nesta rose from the bench and stood in between his spread legs.

“Thought you didn’t fuck snowball fight cheaters?”

“Admit you lied and I wouldn’t be,” she replied, dropping her towel and climbing onto his lap, her knees bracketing his hips. He groaned, his hands automatically gripping her thighs.

“Fuck, Nes,” he sighed, reaching up to kiss her, but Nesta shied away.

“Well? Did that last snowball really clip your wing?”

“Nesta,” Cassian growled in warning as she swiveled her bare core over his cloth-covered cock, his head swimming with steam and heat. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last.

“Answer me and we can continue.” She trailed a hand down between her breasts, lower and lower, skimming the fine hair between her legs. Cassian watched her hand, transfixed, as her fingers dipped between her thighs and he was hit with the sweet scent of her arousal, thicker than the steam surrounding them—

Nesta snapped the fingers that had grazed her cunt in front of his face. “Well?”

“Fine!” he snapped. “Your snowball hit me!”

“And…?” Her nimble hands worked at the knot on his towel and unwrapped it, freeing his aching cock.

“You beat me, you won, whatever you want!” He reached for her again but she batted his hand away.

“I knew it! Admit it—I’m the winner!”

He snarled. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you, Nes?”

“Yes,” she answered simply, and crushed her lips against his.

From there it was a different battle than their snowball fight: lips and teeth and tongues bit and stroked and soothed tender flesh. She caressed his cock, while Cassian groaned against Nesta’s plump lips when his hand dove between her legs and felt the wetness seeping from between her lower lips. Without warning, he thrust two thick fingers inside her.

Nesta’s responding bite to his lower lip made his body throb like drums beating during battle. She panted against his lips as she rode his fingers. Growing impatient, with the taste of his own blood on his tongue, Cassian withdrew his fingers and positioned his cock at her entrance. Nesta sank down without another word.

Cassian groaned at being enveloped within her warmth. Nesta raised up on her knees so only his cockhead was still nestled in her cunt, and he shivered slightly from the rush of air—colder than Nesta’s body, despite the steam—hitting his wet cock.

She took him to the hilt on the next stroke and set a steady pace of raising and lowering herself on his cock. “Isn’t this better than lying to say you won a snowball fight?” Nesta gloated, smirking down at him.

Growling, Cassian gripped her hips and lifted Nesta off his length. Ignoring her indignant shout, he positioned her so her knees were on the bench and her arms thrown over the back of the bench, her ass in the air. He spread her thighs apart and slid inside her in one thrust. “Isn’t getting fucked by your mate better than some dumb snowball fight?”

She didn’t answer, but based on the soft moans and pleas for more, he thought she agreed with him. Cassian fucked into her tight cunt, his hands holding onto her hips for dear life. Moisture dripped off their bodies; he could see water collecting in the strong curve of Nesta’s spine, and her knees occasionally slipped on the bench underneath them. She didn’t tell him to stop or slow down, instead gasping, “Harder!” when he readjusted his stance behind her.

Her ass bounced with every thrust inside her. He watched, transfixed, as one of Nesta’s arms reached between her legs and began stroking her bud, her fingers occasionally dragging along his cock until, with a strangled moan, she came, squeezing his cock so hard his release followed soon after.

Cassian wiped a hand down his face, unsure how much of the moisture was sweat or water. Bending over to kiss the back of Nesta’s neck, he slowly withdrew his cock from her body.

“I’ll have to lie and cheat at snowball fights more often if that’s the result.”

Nesta stood and stretched like a cat. Grabbing her towel, she walked towards the door, a corner of her mouth turned up. “Next time, just admit I beat you, so we can get straight to the good part.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta archeron x cassian #cassian x nesta #acotar #drabble #my fics #my fic #thanks anon! #this was a good writing exercise #dialogue is still my achilles heal #especially these two #so this was good practice #asks

[c-e-d-dreamer]

With SJM Romance Week only 10 days away, we're into the crunch time! Which means, it's time for me to prioritize all the fics I originally planned for the whole week and pray for the best in terms of how many I actually write/finish 😬 Sooooo... Help a girl out!

#I will use the results of this poll to rank priority #so get voting! #also I already have a 3 part smutty Elucien fic almost finished #and a Nessian fluffy drabble already finished #if that makes a difference #nessian #my fic

[throneofsapphics]

✧poly!Feysand✧

✧Rhys✧

relapse ↳ part two if you insist small touches chocolate* giving in surprise reunions* a special surprise* the other side stay in the moment with me

✧Azriel & Cassian✧

time is running out up all night ↳ part two points for creativity the ebb and flow of fate ↳ part two* ↳ part three ↳ part four ↳ part five* ↳ epilogue footprints in the snow

✧poly!Nessian✧

a different kind of fear ↳ part two theirs* ↳ part two in and out of dreams* headcannons a present*

✧Mor✧

change the locks* temporary brand* bad decisions* copy me* met you in the bathroom day and night pretty for me*

✧Cassian✧

obsession unconventional weapons

✧Azriel✧

girl's night can't turn down a challenge bad idea easy decisions it only takes three just one more never trust a good deal from the shadows finding you again - prologue ↳ part one

✧Azriel & Rhys✧

desperate* horrible timing yes or no*

✧Rhys & Azriel & Cassian✧

brush away the dust

✧Nesta✧

dating manon and nesta sweet ride* dinner first*

✧Next Gen✧

Nyx nosy parents ↳ part two ↳ part three busybodies a pretty smile Nyx & Sunshine Reader ambushes and invitations misplaced chivalry Nessian's Daughter & Reader passing the test Eris's Daughter & Reader stolen moments and chance meetings ↳ part two ↳ part three

#acotar x reader #acotar drabble #acotar imagine #acotar next gen #next gen acotar #feysand x y/n #feysand x reader #poly!feysand #poly!feysand x reader #poly! feysand x y/n #rhys x reader #rhys x y/n #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #nessian x y/n #nessian x reader #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #nesta archeron y/n #nesta archeron x reader #feyre archeron x y/n #feyre archeron x reader #acotar smut

[theladyofdeath]

For Valentine’s Day prompts maybe some pampering for Cassian from Nesta? Like washing his wings/hair or something.

A/N: Happy love month! I hope you enjoy! x Warnings: Language

Cassian came into the room looking as if he had been beaten and thrown down a hilltop covered in mud. Nesta couldn’t tell what was blood and what was dirt, but her Mate didn’t seem too hurt as he shot her a wicked grin.

With a slow shake of her head, Nesta placed a ribbon between her pages before closing the book on her lap. “You look like shit.”

Cassian huffed as he started unstrapping his weapons and setting them gently on the top of his dresser. “Is that the way you should greet me? We haven’t seen each other since dawn.”

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” she said, and reopened her book. “Looks like you had an exciting day.”

“The new recruits are something else entirely,” he said, voice growing serious, proud, as it often did when referring to his soldiers, his duty. “I was impressed today.”

His passion made Nesta’s eyes soften as they swept over him again. As he started removing his leathers, she watched him intently. His back was to her, and she never knew why she thought his back was so sexy, but it was. As he pulled his damp tunic over his head, she watched his muscles flex, his wings responding in time.

“I can feel you checking me out.”

Nesta snorted, her eyes drifting back to her page. “Remind me to start keeping your ego in check. It’s growing too large.”

Cassian grinned as he turned around, now in nothing but his pants, which hung low on his waist. Nesta was so busy admiring him that she nearly didn’t realize he was approaching the bed before it was too late.

“No! Freeze. You’re filthy.” She tossed her book aside and scooted up further towards the headboard. “Come any closer and I’ll have your balls.”

He lifted a brow. “If that was meant to be a threat, it turned me on far more than it scared me.”

"Bathe." The sound that came out of Nesta was somewhere between a laugh and a scold. "Now."

With a wink, Cassian disappeared into the washroom, taking off his pants as he went. The water began running and Nesta had just opened up her book once more when the water stopped, and he said, “Sure is lonely in here.”

Nesta chuckled and flipped the page. “Make sure you get behind your ears.”

She could practically hear Cassian’s grin as the water sloshed while he entered the tub. He groaned as he sank beneath the warm water, and the sound alone had Nesta’s body reacting. He could surely scent her arousal, but he said nothing of it as the tension between them grew thicker.

With the words on her page long forgotten, Nesta listened as he began washing himself. She hadn’t even realized that she was moving until she was inside the washroom, stopping beside the tub.

"I knew you couldn't stay away," he mumbled, dropping his rag into the water and running it over his shoulder.

"Hush," she scolded, slipping out of her nightgown and stepping into the tub. The water that greeted her was warm and inviting. "Or I'll leave you to wash alone."

"Don't do that," he said, quietly, pulling her towards him.

When she was sitting comfortably, straddling his waist, she pulled a bottle of soap off the shelf next to the tub and dumped a glob onto her hand. The second she began massaging it into his hair, his body fell into complete relaxation. A sigh of contentment left him as he closed his eyes.

"You like that?"

"Mhmm."

"Good."

They fell into a comfortable silence as she worked the soap into his hair. She worked out the dirt and blood and sweat, and only when she felt he was finally clean, she took a glass off the shelf and filled it with water. "Head back."

Eyes still closed, Cassian's head fell back and Nesta rinsed out the soap, again and again, until the water ran clear. His eyes finally opened when she set the glass aside, and his hands, which sat on her thighs, squeezed as she grabbed the rag, lathered it in soap, and ran it across his broad chest.

His breathing was even, quiet, his eyelids heavy. "Maybe I should come home looking like shit more often. If it means you'll spoil me."

"Don't get used to it," she muttered, but he was fully aware that she loved what she was doing, that it brought her peace to pamper him, that it brought her comfort.

Once his chest was cleaned to Nesta's liking, she moved to his abdomen then his back, before dipping the rag into the water and running it across the top of his wing.

The second she made contact, Cassian grabbed her wrist with a hiss, making her halt. Beneath her, she could feel just how much that slight contact affected him.

Nesta grinned, slowly. "Don't want those clean?"

"Not right there," he said, and his voice was low, rough. "Unless you want to wash them while I'm deep inside of you."

"You say that like it's not ideal," she teased, pulling free from his grasp and running the rag beneath the water, which the House kept endlessly warmed and cleaned.

"I didn't say that," Cassian breathed, and kissed her slowly. His arms went around her waist and she melted into him, dropping the rag and forgetting its existence. Not only did she pamper him, but now she rode him slowly, running her fingers over that spot of his wings that just drove him mad.

As they made love, Nesta wondered why she had ever thought to spend her entire night reading. Although she could get lost in a book under any and all circumstances, living out such a romance was a hell of a lot better than reading one.

#nessian #nesta #cassian #valentines prompts #fluff prompts #lovers prompts #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #drabble #dabble #sjm #prompts #tara answers prompts

[julemmaes]

Re prompts - Number 6 for the Nessian! Please ❤️

6. “Here, take me blanket/jacket.” - “I told you, I’m not cold.” *shivering*

Nesta knew she could be petty sometimes. It was a personality trait that all three Archeron sisters had received from their mother, and certainly none of them had ever tried to hide it or pretended otherwise.

Archeron Pettiness, that was how their group of friends had also coined it. Needless to say, the first time the sisters had heard someone use that term, they had sulked for a good hour, proving just how true it was. Nesta had been particularly hurt to learn that it was Azriel who had come up with the expression, but the fact that it had been her best friend had somewhat softened the blow. Somewhat.

Now, in front of the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen, Nesta sat on the shoreline, waiting for her friends to finish playing their game of beach volley so they could go back to the hostel and shower before heading out again for the evening. She could have joined them, kicked everyone's ass and then called it a day, but she wasn't in the right mood at all.

She just wanted to go home, relax in the silence of her room and hope that the night would be better than the last three hours they had spent at the beach. It wasn't a single detail that had unnerved her, more of a series of things that had piled up and now she felt like she was going to snap at any second. But she knew the second she’d voice her uneasiness, someone would bring up the Archeron Pettiness, blaming some stupid joke someone had made or something else entirely to the real reasons she felt like she was going through hell right now.

She closed her eyes, leaning her head back and pretending to bask in the last moments of light before the sun disappeared below the horizon. A particularly stronger wave than the others swept over her, wetting her legs and part of her stomach, and Nesta felt legit tears well up in her eyes. God, how stupid she could be, crying at almost 30 years old on a tropical beach, with a sky like that, surrounded by friends and family, just because a wave had washed over her.

As she was trying not to burst into a full cry, she didn't realise that the others had stopped playing and had jumped into the water. She hadn't even noticed that someone was approaching her until Cassian plopped down next to her, startling her.

He leaned over to kiss her shoulder and she fought her instinct to bend her head to the side.

Cassian was smiling so broadly Nesta wondered what kind of drugs he was on, but as he glanced at her and frowned, the life in his eyes seemed to flicker. Her stomach knotted with guilt as concern shaped his features and he leaned in, brushing a strand of hair from her face, to take a better look at her. 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, “are you okay?” 

Nesta nodded tightly, looking at their friends splashing each other and laughing loudly as they tried to drown their respective partners. She wanted to join them, she just didn’t think her brain would let her calm down enough for her to be able to.

Cassian scooted closer, running a hand down her back and stopping right above her bottom. When he started massaging her skin with his thumb, Nesta arched her back, really needing him to stop touching her like that. She grimaced and turned her head the other way, avoiding his look.

“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “Are you sure everything’s fine?” 

Nesta lifted her shoulders, croaking out, “Yes, a hundred percent.”

Cassian hummed. They kept silent for a little while, just enjoying each other’s company, when another wave hit them and Nesta’s legs were covered in goosebumps. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, passing a finger along her thigh. 

He’d once told her he always needed to be touching her when they were together. He said he reminded her they were actually in a relationship, the fact that he could freely hold her hand, put an arm around her shoulder, bump his hip into hers, whenever he wanted to. 

That, unfortunately for the two of them, didn’t really go hand in hand with her need to be left alone when feeling overwhelmed. 

“No, don’t worry,” she tried to lie, willing her body to stop freezing, but he was already up and running to their things. 

When he came back, he handed her his hoodie with a kind, tentative smile on his face.

“Here, take my shirt.”

Nesta didn’t want his shirt, she just wanted to leave. She got up, cracking her wrists and trying not to cringe at the wet sand sticking to her legs, “I told you, I’m not cold.”

And then she shivered, her body betraying her like never before. Cassian arched an eyebrow, thrusting the hoodie towards her, but Nesta raised her hands and stepped back.

“Cassian, I really don’t need it.” She might have been a little too harsh on him, but her brain was going on overdrive. He looked hurt and frowned, letting his arm fall to his side.

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to help.” 

A loud barking laugh came from the water and before Cassian could ask her what he could do to make it better, they were both drenched in sea water. Nesta gasped, her hair dripping water in her eyes and she resisted the urge to scream. 

Emerie and Rhysand were standing right next to them, splashing each other in a war to the death, laughing like kids on the first day of summer. Mindless that they’d just pushed Nesta over the edge, they ran back to the others, but she didn’t care anymore. 

She looked Cassian straight in the eye and whispered, “I wanna go home.”

Cassian only nodded, shouting to the others that they’d rejoin them later and jogged after her. 

He helped her dry off and clean her body of the sand, all the while she tried hard not to cry. She stood there in silence after she’d gotten dressed, waiting for him to be done himself. He moved with hurried steps, clearly trying to be faster for her.

They were almost at the edge of the beach, on the small pathway that led to their hostel, when Nesta’s breath caught and her vision blurred. She was crying before she knew it.

“Baby,” Cassian breathed with a pained voice, stopping her by the elbow and putting down their bags. She let him pull her in, holding her close to his chest. Nesta hid her face in her hands as he rubbed her back soothingly, trying to calm her down. 

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. 

Cassian tightened her grip on her, “You don’t have to apologise, Nes.” 

She shook her head, clearly disagreeing. She shouldn’t have let it get this far. 

“What set you off?” He asked. “Apart from Rhys and Em, obviously.” 

Nesta wiped her cheeks, sliding her arms around his waist and putting her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as her boyfriend just held her, grounding her. 

“Nes?” 

“I don’t know,” she said with a weak voice. “I guess the sun, the heat, the children screaming. Staying the entire day at the beach with so many people for a whole week isn’t my favourite thing.” Cassian simply hummed again, giving her the time and space to elaborate more. “I think I’ll just stay in tonight. It’s for the best anyway, I wouldn’t be much company.” 

“I’ll stay with you then,” he added, placing a kiss on her hair. 

She looked up at him, putting her chin on his chest, “You don’t have to. I’d rather you go out and have fun with the others if that’s what you want to do.” 

Cassian’s features softened even more and he kissed the tip of her nose, her cheeks, “I don’t care about the others, I wanna stay in with you.” 

She managed a small smile, rising on her tiptoes to properly kiss him on the lips. 

“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth. 

He simply replied by kissing her again.

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@my-fan-side @superspiritfestival @simpingfornestaarcheron @the-regal-warrior @live-the-fangirl-life @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @bookstantrash @lordof-bloodshed @nahthanks @sannelovesreading @courtofjurdan @imagine-me @moodymelanist @dread3r @sv0430 @mariamuses @leiawritesstories @thewayshedreamed @duskandstarlight @letstakethedawn @perseusannabeth

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #drabble #this is shit and i havent even reread it so

[asnowfern]

For @nessianweek day 3: Song Association

A/N: This line in Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus really reminded me of post-acowar Nessian. Here's a little accompanying drabble below the cut!

Nesta's eyes were closed, her ears straining to ignore everything but the live music of the tavern. When she felt the larger than life presence that took the seat next to hers, she did not open her eyes or acknowledge the newcomer.

There is only the music, she told herself. The lively beat, the lilting vocals, the accompanying strings, the-

Slight drum of fingers.

Her train of thought slammed to a halt, brakes screeching loudly in protest. Her eyes flew open and she pointedly did not look to her side and downed her glass, slamming it against the table. The wooden surface shook slightly in the echo of the impact.

"Careful not to break the glass on your hand, sweetheart," the voice teased.

Nesta did not need to ask why he was here. It was obvious. Just like how every crack of the fireplace was just as much of a reminder. She did not need a funeral or say goodbye to the headstone.

Crack.

She suppressed a shudder to little effect.

Not when she let him die with hatred and bitterness in her heart, his empty glassy eyes etched into her cursed immortal brain. She did not deserve forgiveness, she did not deserve closures. And she did not deserve the male next to her.

Before she could stop herself, she sneaked a peek at the Illyrian male next to her. His hazel eyes were trained at the rows of liquor bottles behind the bar, broad fingers lightly toyed with his glass, swirling it occasionally. The dim faelights reflected some of his striking features while also obscuring his face with dancing shadows, almost dragging him down to the darkness. To her.

Nesta could've sworn she saw those idle fingers twitch at his side as the edge of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. He knew she was staring, was a moment from making a lewd comment about it. So she cuts in, swiftly picking up a second drink off the bar counter and gulping it down. This time, she lets it crash its way back to the surface almost a little too close to his hand.

Cassian didn't flinch. Instead, he turned to her, brow raised, "You are more likely to hurt yourself than me with these little smashes."

She huffed and stood up abruptly, snatching up a random bottle of wine and left the establishment. The tavern owners knew enough by now who bankrolled her ever growing tab.

He followed close behind, trailing back barely half a step, his hulking form easily clearing the path for them. Eventually, they stopped in a quiet corner.

Nesta spun herself around, icy blue glaring up fiercely at dancing hazel, and demanded, 'How long are you going to follow me around?'

"I didn't think you wanted to be alone today," he shrugged.

The next cutting words bubbled, indignant at his presumptuousness, but died at her lips as his face softened, at his eyes that held such gentle concern and affection. Her heart sputtered and wreaked havoc on her bodily functions. Instead the words that spilled out were, "Take me somewhere only you know"

He paused for a beat before his recently healed wings spread and stretched, strong arms gently securing themselves around her. Without a word, they took off smoothly into the dark sky.

He landed them in an old clock tower. It wasn't the tallest nor the newest clock tower in the city. The large rust covered bell hovered creakily next to them. Yet, the view.

Oh, the view.

It was a perfect unobstructed view of the bridge and Sidra, the snow capped Illyrian mountains flanking it like a protective guardian.

More than that, it was quiet. Nothing but the lulling melody of the spring wind in their faces.

"I spent a lot of time here during those forty nine years. Just drinking, worrying," he confessed, his mind lost to the past, "hating myself for letting him go into danger alone, for failing as his general, his brother."

She recognised the moment for what it was, a shared vulnerability, a truce. She looped an arm around an elbow and squeezed slightly. You didn't fail.

Calloused fingers interlaced with hers, squeezing back reassuringly. And you're not alone. Not today, never. His thumb rubbed soothing circles. I'm here.

They didn't speak, not verbally. But his shoulders would nudge almost playfully at hers. His wings eventually unfurled to wrap around them when she shivered with the wind. Her eyes followed the trail of scarred membranes on his wings, the sound of agonised screams echoed in her head, a reminder of her failures.

Crack.

Nesta felt her body beginning to shake.

A comforting hand lifted hers to the wing, gently pressing soft fingertips to the scars on the hard and strong bony structure, it's fine. I'm fine, we're fine.

In the darkness of a sleeping Velaris, surrounded by the singing breeze and protective mountains, Nesta found the words slipping past her lips, "Wings like yours will only get dragged to hell with me"

The leathered wings curled tighter around them as low tones vibrated down her spine, "Wings like these are meant to fly you out of hell."

#nessianweek2023 #nessian #nessian drabble #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar