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#nessian fluff
harrystylesfan2686 · 28 days
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Body Shot
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Pairing: Nessian x Reader
Summary: Reader introduces Nes and Cass to body shots.
Warning: little smut and fluff. Unedited(sorry!)
A/N: This is not the same time line as Crush on Them. It is a standalone. Hope you like this❤️
Masterlist
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You walked into the House of Wind to see Cassian and Nesta kissing. You sigh at your lovers, always around each other kissing or fucking, not caring where they were or who near them. Though, you admit, you liked it. Liked how they didn't care what other people thought and just did whenever they wanted.
They break apart at the sound of your footsteps walking in. Both of them instantly turning to you and ginning. "You're back! How was you day?" Cass asks, getting up to kiss you welcome. You instantly melt into his lips, pouting when he pulls back.
"How do you think? Keir was an ass as always. I got the job done, though." He takes your gear and leathers off as you rant on about how Rhysand gave you a mission to go to Hewn City. Keir had some notice to give to the High Lord, but Rhys and Feyre were too busy with other things to go there themselves. You didn't get time to tell your partners about your task before going there, it took you an entire day to finally be able to come back.
"After going there, I got to know he wasn't even there that moment, I had to wait an entire hour before meeting him. I was so pissed." You huff as you sit on the couch beside Nesta before pulling her into a small kiss too. "And then the meeting was in some club, it was so disgusting. Everyone was drinking and humping anything they saw, and the smell! I almost puked! I swear I even saw a couple fucking in the background." You gag at the memory. Ness and Cass, too, grimacing in disgust with you.
"Alright we need wine if we want to erase that image out of our heads." Cassian walks out to the kitchen, leaving you and Nesta alone for a minute. You shift from your sitting position and lay your head on her lap, wrapping your arms around her waist and relaxing your head on the soft muscles of her thighs.
She waves her fingers through you hair, freeing them from your bun and massages your scalp lightly. You almost pur under her hands. She smiles slightly at your closed eyes and the tense of your body slowly relaxing with each stroke of her fingers.
You are almost asleep when Cassian walks back out, balancing three glasses and a bottle of white wine in his hands. "Alright, come on, drink up." He sits down at your other side as you get up from Nesta's lap, and he lines up the glasses to fill them.
"You know, you could've just asked the house to bring and serve these for us." You raise an eyebrow at him. Nesta smirks at you both and Cassian pauses pouring the wine for a second, frowning at the glass, as if he just now realized that. "Well- Maybe I just wanted the house to rest for a day." His tone sounding defensive before continuing his work.
You and Nesta laugh when he doesn't look at you while handing out your glasses.
-☆-
"You know, I also learned something else in that club today."
Both of your partners groan at your words. You have been talking non stop about all the vulger things you saw in those walls and how revolting you feel at them. They both were polite enough to hear you, but not listening anything that came out of your mouth. Their drunken states not helping at all in paying attention to things they don't want to listen to.
"Oh don't worry, this one's fun." You get up from where you were sprawled out on the ground. Nesta and Cassian laying on the couch, sitting in a position that can be described as in middle of sitting and laying. Their eyebrows raise as they look at your excited expression before glancing at each other with suspicion.
"Okay so this is apparently a thing they do in bars, it's called a body shot." Your smile raising their unsureness even more.
"And what is that?" Cassian asks.
"It's when one person lays down, and another person drinks alcohol off of them." You nod in enthusiasm.
"What do you mean off of them?" This time it's Nesta that asks because Cassian is still trying to understand what you said through his high head.
"Like, the person that's laying, has to hold a lemon in thier mouth and the other person puts salt on the layer's chest and spills drinks in thier navel and drinks from there." You try to explain as good as you can, but words don't seem to come to you to do so exactly.
Cassian frowns,"that navel part, sounds... unsanitary." Nesta nodding along him.
"Well that's true. Maybe we'll just make the person laying, hold the glass." You say.
"Oh so we are doing this?" Nesta blinks.
"Yes!! Come on it'll be so fun!" You pout.
"Well who will?" Nesta looks between the two of you.
"Don't look at me. I didn't understand any of it. I'll just mess it up." Cassian puts his hands up.
"Nesta, come on please. I really want to try it. It'll be alright if you really dont want to though. Your choice." You smile at her.
She looks at you and then Cassian and he nods, repeating your words. She inhales deeply before finally saying. "Fine. I'll do it." And you squeal in excitement.
"Alright. What do I have to do?" She gets up from the couch, standing in front of you. Slightly smiling at your excited face as you ask the house for a cut in half lemon and salt.
"Okay, take off your shirt." She does, but the second it's off, you and Cassian both get distracted when you realized she doesn't have anything underneath. She smirks at your reactions when cassian matters,"I don't know what's happening but I love it."; And you practically drool at her perfect breasts.
You quickly gather yourself and shake your head, trying to think straight. You clear your throat and say,"Alright, now lay down on your back on the ground." She does so without question. Laying in front of the couch so that Cassian can see you both from your sides. You kneel down beside her before draping one leg over her thighs, straggling her lap.
You take the glass of wine and instruct her to hold it. You sprinkle a pinch of salt over her naked chest and take the lemon,"Open your mouth." Your voice a thick with arousal as you try to keep your eyes away from her curvy flesh. Her lips part, taking one end of the piece of lemon between her teeth.
"Ready?" You wait until she nods and then dip down, parting your mouth to trail your tounge over her chest. Starting from her lower chest, slowly leading up. Feeling a little mischievous, you circle your tounge around her nipple, the sour taste of salt mixing with the sweet of her pirked bud. You smirk when she gasps under you.
You arch your spine, leveling your ass up for Cassian, giving him a perfect show as he groans. You sit up enough to take the glass out of Nesta's hand and drink down the liquid before putting it aside for the final step. You lean down again, parting your lips and take the other end of the lemon between your teeth. You graze your lips over hers, stilling a little to smirk at her fushed expression before leaning back and swallowing down the sour juice.
You take out the remains of lemon, and it vanishes, the house throwing it out for you. You smile widely at Nesta,"And that is a body shot."
The three of you are silent for a while as they try to take in what just happened. Your smile slowing flattens when Nesta doesn't say anything but just stares at you, up on her elbows. You think maybe she didn't like it and try to pull away from her, thinking of apologising before her hand suddenly shoots out, pulling you back onto her.
Before you could say anything she leans up and slams her lips to yours, her hand now gripping your hair and the other, behind you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into her. You chests flushed together, her tightened nipples rubbing against the fabric of your clothes.
"Wait! So you liked it?" You pull back as far as you can with her hand pulling on your hair, she uses the time to bite and suck on your neck, and you whimper at the pain and pleasure.
"Yes." She whispers against your skin before pulling back to look into your eyes and says,"And we're not done."
She kisses harshly, and pulls at your clothes to rid of them, another pair of hands join hers when she fambles with the bottons too many times. She pulls back to concentrate on getting you out of your clothes while Cassian tips your head to side, your back against his chest now as he kneels behind you over Nesta, you lean up to kiss him too, just as passionately. His stubble grazing against the soft skin of your face and you whimper.
Nesta finally opens all the bottons of your shirt and roams her hand over your chest, pinching and twisting your nipples, making you moan into Cassians mouth. He pulls back to take Nesta's mouth on his as thier hands wrap and pull on your body. You moan again, you love seeing them kiss and having thier hands on you.
It is going to be a long night.
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danikamariewrites · 4 months
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❈ ❈ Holiday Traditions ❈ ❈
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A/n: I'm so happy I got to participate in the @acotargiftexchange this year! I had so much fun coming up with what Nesta and Cassian do to prepare hosting their first christams for @moodymelanist . I also saw it’s her birthday today! So show her some love and check out her fics they are amazing🤗
I hope you like it❤️ happy birthday Merry Christmas love!
warnings: none, just pure Christmas cheer 🥰
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Nesta plopped the last box of ornaments on the coffee table with an accomplished sigh. She had successfully brought down all of the boxes by herself from the attic. Cassian was going to help but she grew impatient waiting for him to come home from shopping. It was the last thing they had to do and Nesta was too excited to wait. So she chugged her morning coffee and braved the attic ladder for the spirit of Christmas.  
This was Nyx’s first Christams so everything had to be perfect for her little nephew. Looking around the living room Nesta smiled to herself. The mantle–which currently housed a roaring fire– was beautifully decorated with fir branches, colorful winter candyland baubles, twinkling lights, and two large bows at either end. Their usual soft throw pillows on the couches have been changed out for candy cane pillows and blankets with snowflakes and snowmen. 
The only thing left to decorate was the tree. Nesta started opening all the plastic boxes when the front door opened, Cassian’s cheery voice ringing through their warm home. When he appeared in the living room bags of different sizes decorated his arms, a large grin on his face. “Hey baby, I thought I was going to help you with those?” Nesta returned his smile unwrapping the book stack ornament Cassian got her last year. “I could’t wait. Did you get the stuff for our mega gingerbread house?” 
Cassian chuckled and held up a bag from their favorite bakery. “Oh yeah. Let me put this stuff away and we’ll decorate.” Nesta smiled at his retreating back. She couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world. As a child her and her sisters never had a good holiday experience thanks to their parents. Their mother’s focus was throwing the best parties for Christmas and New Years. Always neglecting to get the girls presents or doing any holiday activities with them. 
When Feyre and Rhysand found each other that’s when the new holiday traditions started. The first time they all spent Christmas together Nesta was drawn to Cassian and the love he had for the holiday. He made sure she and Elain felt welcome, the brothers even made sure they had a few gifts to open. Ever since that day Cassian and Nesta were inseperable. 
Cassian laid out the gingerbread pieces on the island along with the icing and candy toppings. He swiped two candy canes for him and Nes before sorting gifts that could be wrapped today and ones that he’d wrap tonight when Nesta was fast asleep. Gathering the gifts, wrapping paper, tape, and scissors he headed back to the living room. 
Nesta was half done unwrapping the ornaments, humming along to the Christmas playlist lightly playing from the speaker. Cassian never knew why she insisted on throwing Justin Bieber’s Christmas album into the mix of songs but he went with it. He would never tell Nesta that he enjoyed it. Cassian would never hear the end of it from her or his brothers. Dumping the gift supplies on the couch Cassian started picking up ornaments, choosing which ones he wanted to hang on the tree first. 
As the hours passed Cassian and Nesta were giggling as they reminisced about the joke ornaments they had bought each other over the years. Cassian found a Santa hat in one of the decoration boxes and decided it was his, even though Nesta fought him for it. Her consolation prize was silver tinsel Cassian wrapped around her like a scarf. 
Once the tree was done, Cassian and Nesta stood back wrapped in each other’s arms. Cassian kissed her tinsel covered head and looked down at his girlfriend with deep adoration. She looks so beautiful with the colorful Christmas lights reflecting in her blue-gray eyes. Images of their future together ran through his mind. A few more holidays by themselves and one day, maybe, a set of twin girls with his hair and her features running around. They’re in matching Christmas PJ’s trying to sneak a peak at the gifts they spent hours wrapping after bedtime before being caught by mom and dad.  
Breaking him from his thoughts Nesta bumped her hip against his. “Alright you,” she said cooly, “Lets get to wrapping.” 
Getting settled on the floor Cassian started rolling out wrapping paper. Nesta turned on the TV immediately changing the channel. When Nesta saw Rudolph was on she let out a happy hum, watching with a childlike wonder Cassian rarely saw from her. They noticed most of the gifts are for Nyx. Yeah he’s only a few months old, but Cassian and Nesta wanted his first Christmas to be special. Since they were hosting, the pair wanted their nephew to be the center of attention.   
Moving to the kitchen Cassian put the kettle on for hot cocoa as Nesta took a seat at the island and began unwrapping the toppings, throwing a few gumdrops in her mouth. “Hey,” she said to get Cassian’s attention. He turned to see Nesta cocking her arm back, gumdrop between her fingers, nodding at him with a determined smile. Cassian smirks, opening his mouth wide, leaning his head back a little. Nesta launches it in a short arch landing right on Cassian’s tongue. They both raise their arms in victory letting out a twin ‘woo’.  
Mega gingerbread house had to look perfect this year since it would be the center piece of the mantel. So this year they actually tried to not make it a disaster that would collapse just so they could eat it. Once it was a sugary monstrosity Nyx was sure to grab at, the pair carefully transported mega gingerbread house to its pedestal. It was quite impressive. The house looked like it belonged on a mountain top, Nesta guessed it kind of was thanks to where it was placed.   
Looking at his watch Cassian grimaced, noting it was much later than he thought. 
Getting settled in bed Cass watched his show on his iPad while Nesta read Christmas book seven of the twelve he got her. She hated being behind on her twelve days of Christmas reads. This one was about a long distance couple finally meeting for a magically holiday in the city. 
An hour passed before Cassian heard Nes slightly snoring. He smiled to himself as he softly kisses her forehead, silently slipping out from under the covers. Two years ago Cass caught Nesta snooping through her gift pile during the day so he made the decision to wrap in the middle of the night.
Sorting through the gifts in the living room Cassian couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. This year’s haul for Nesta was perfect if he did say so himself. He even got her special wrapping paper with little books on it. 
After an hour of wrapping gifts Cassian crept back upstairs. There was one more thing he had to check on before he went to sleep. Tiptoeing as best he could to the closet he slipped inside. Using the flash light on his phone so he wouldn’t wake Nesta he quietly opened his shirt drawer, digging out the smal black velvet box.   
Checking on the ring he knew was tucked away in the perfect hiding spot Cassian grined. Everytime Cass looked at the engagement ring his heart pounded with excitement. It took all of his self restraint to not propose to Nesta everyday. No, he would wait and make this the best Christmas, better than the one they first met. He’ll never forget the surprised face Nesta made when he handed her that first gift. Cassian smiled thinking about the surprise that will grace Nesta’s beautiful face in just two days. 
Two more days and they’ll have a life time of happy holidays together.
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talkfantasytome · 2 years
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Stitches
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Nesta gets a small injury in training, and Cassian won't rest until she's healed.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, nothing gory.
Word Count: 1,639 | Nessian Masterlist | Read on AO3
a/n: Well...it's been quite a while since I've written/finished anything that can be posted! I think I'm kinda out of practice. I guess I need to be writing more. XD Prompt request can be seen here.
For Day 1 of @nessianweek
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"I'm fine Cassian. It's just a scratch."
Cassian chuckled and let his gaze fall to Nesta. "I think we'll let Madja be the judge of that."
"You're fussing. Put me down!" Nesta demanded, wriggling in his arms.
"Why would I do that? We're fifty feet in the air, and I've grown to like you."
Nesta huffed loudly and grumbled under her breath. Cassian wasn't entirely sure what she said, but it sounded an awful lot like overreacting Illyrian baby.
"If the bleeding stops by the time we land, then we can skip Madja and go back home," he offered. As if there was a chance that was happening. Nesta had been slashed good during training. He'd told her the young priestess was too early in her training to be using a real sword, but did Nesta listen?
Of course not. She never did.
Fuck him, it was one of the things he loved about her.
Nesta nodded and sighed, "Fine. But even if I am still bleeding when we get there, I'm sure Madja will say it's nothing."
He flapped his wings and propelled them forward. It wasn't a long flight, but with each beat of the black leather, his heart grew louder.
His mate was probably right. It wasn't an awful cut, definitely something that would heal overnight. But with the blood flowing down her arm, dripping into the air beneath them, his hold on her was the only thing keeping him together. That and breathing through his mouth to avoid smelling the blood. Seeing it was more than enough to drive him crazy.
Cassian landed gracefully in front of the Healer's practice. Nesta attempted to wriggle out of his arms, but he held her firm as he rushed inside. The blood was still trickling down her arm, she had no way out of this now.
"Madja?" he called, entering the small building.
"Can I get down now?" Nesta asked.
He let out a small chuckle and set her down on a chair just as the small Fae walked in from an archway leading to her medical supply room. "Yes-oh! I see." The female eyed the arm Nesta was holding up with her other hand and then rushed back into her supply room.
Cassian flashed Nesta a smug grin. "Told you so." Nesta stuck her tongue out at him and then went back to examining the gash that just refused to heal as quickly as most injuries. He'd have to go check the sword when they got back to the House, make sure it was clean and there wasn't something else on it that could be affecting her.
Madja returned with a small box and some bandages. She didn't bother to address them or speak as she pulled another chair and a table over and began to set up.
"It looks like you're going to need stitches, dear," Madja explained, already threading a needle.
"What?!" Both Cassian and Nesta shrieked the word, Nesta also hopping out of her seat so fast the chair fell over.
Cassian looked over to Madja as he said, "I thought you'd just be able to give her a tonic or rub something on her arm to help her heal quicker."
"I'm not getting stitches!" Nesta added, not waiting for Cassian to finish.
"Calm down, dear. It's completely safe. And the fastest way to ensure you heal." Madja leaned over to pick up the chair and motioned for Nesta to sit.
Nesta shook her head and took another step away from the seat. "No way."
That wasn't a look on Nesta that Cassian saw often. The way her eyes widened and refused to blink, how they focused in on the needle, how her jaw clenched - Nesta was…scared.
"Nes," he breathed, walking over to her, standing between her and Madja for a moment. He placed his hands on her arms and started to rub them gently. He whispered, "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"I'm not-" Cassian quirked his eyebrow at her and she cut herself off, pulling her lips thin. "I don't like needles."
"You were just slashed by a sword," he pointed out, laughing breathily. "I think you can handle a little needle."
He tried to hide the way the small frown broke his heart. That every moment she spent staring at the needle in Madja's hand with those big, grey eyes was torture. That wasn't what she needed.
No, Nesta needed a distraction, and a hand to hold. And maybe a reason to do this beyond herself.
"Can't we just let it heal naturally?" she requested, leaning into him.
She knew. Two years together, there's no way Nesta didn't know. Leaning against him like that, with so much of her body touching his…Cassian could practically feel his will melting away. That perfect scent of a winter's sunrise mixed with embers completely engulfed him, luring him away from reason.
And then the scent of the blood took over, and he was right back in that healing practice, an injured Nesta in his arms, a small healer watching them and waiting.
"The problem is that the cut is so deep, your body is struggling to heal itself," Madja explained. "You need something to help your body find its way, so to speak. That's what the stitches will do, just like they did for Cassian during the war."
"This wound is nothing like that."
Madja's expression didn't alter at the rebuttal. She simply patted the seat again and waited.
"Please, Nesta," Cassian begged. "You can still spend the afternoon recuperating. Maybe curl up with a book in the library. I'll have the House whip up an extra chocolatey cake for you."
Nesta rolled her eyes and huffed, "The House would do that for me anyway."
"Okay. How about you do this, and I'll join you in the library and read a smutty book of your choosing?" Nesta's eyebrows raised, her interest piqued. "And then maybe I'll draw us a bath after dinner?"
"With bubbles." It was an order as much as it was a request. She walked back to Madja and took her seat, and Cassian followed close behind, taking her hand so she'd have something to squeeze.
He lifted his other hand and pulled her face so that those crystal, blue grey eyes were on him. "Look at me, Nes. Don't watch Madja, it'll only make it worse." Nesta nodded, her eyes dropping to his chest as they started to shine. He pulled her head into him and kissed the top of it softly as he watched Madja work.
The healer broke the skin, and Nesta whimpered into him. He kissed her again, brushing his fingers through her hair and softly encouraging her through the process. Cassian wasn’t sure what else he could do, but this seemed to pacify Nesta. It was rather bittersweet, to be able to help her like this. It was nice knowing that he could. But he hated that he needed to.
She remained fairly still, only jerking slightly each time the needle had to pierce the skin again, but soon enough Madja was tying off the stitches and cleaning up the wound again before bandaging it.
"Is it over?" Nesta asked quietly.
"Yeah, it is. And you did so well, Nes," Cassian sighed, pulling back to smile down at her.
Nesta shook her head at him slightly, laughing under her breath as if she found his encouragement amusing now that Madja was done.
Using some fancy solvent, the healer sealed the bandage to itself so that it wouldn't fall right off and then cleared her throat to get their attention. "Now that you have the stitches, the healing will speed up quite a bit. The stitches should dissolve by tomorrow morning, and you'll be good as new by tomorrow night, no scar or anything."
"And I can train tomorrow morning?"
"Absolutely," Madja replied. "You may feel some pain tonight, but that should also be gone by tomorrow. Maybe a touch of soreness, but not much more than you're probably used to."
Cassian stood from where he'd been squatting. "Thank you, Madja. I really appreciate it."
She nodded and waved the gratitude off, focusing instead on cleaning and packing up the materials she'd brought out. "When you get the chance, can you please remind Rhysand he is no longer welcome at Nyx's check-ups? I cannot work with the way he hovers."
"I think you'd survive reminding him far more than I would," Cassian chuckled. He looked over at Nesta and found her wearing a restrained smile, as if she were trying extremely hard to not laugh. "Ready to go?"
She took the hand he held out for her. "Thank you, again, Madja."
"It's not a problem."
The two females nodded at each other. Nesta and Cassian made their way out of the practice and into the bright light of Velaris.
"So, where to next?" Cassian asked.
"We're going back to the House, to the family library. I'm going to pick out the filthiest book for you." Nesta's smile had turned into a conspiratorial smirk that had Cassian already regretting his offer.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started walking down the street. "Yes, and we will do that. But I thought maybe we could stop by that bakery you love so much. Pick up some desserts for tonight."
"On top of the extra chocolatey cake?"
"On top of the cake," he agreed, pulling her in close as she wrapped her arm around the small of his back. He couldn't help but smile widely as they continued making their way to the shop Cassian spent too much of his money at these days.
Nesta looked up at him from the side of her eyes. "Sounds good. But I'm getting a snack for this afternoon, too."
"I figured."
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@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @lady-winter-sunrise @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @clemidansleschoux @meher-sumedha @labetenoir @vinylcryes @shinya-hiiragi @starryblueskies7 @the-key-to-me-myself-and-i @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @cannellefawn @superspiritfestival @aks18 @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red @captainchris-pike
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shadowisles-writes · 2 years
Text
ACOTAR Writing Circle Masterlist
Posting dates: 1: August 13th; 2: August 27th; 3: September 10th
smut = *
Gwynriel
Inked Lillies, part 2, part 3 @headcanonheadcase (shadowsingerofnight, ofduskanddreams)
The Capri-Sun Girl, part 2*, part 3 @ofduskanddreams (headcanonheadcase, hlizr50)
Delectable, part 2, part 3 @hlizr50 (violet-shadows, thehaemanthus)
Elucien
We Could Pretend to Form an Attachment, part 2, part 3 @velidewrites (the-lonelybarricade, azrielshadowssing)
The Leap of Faith, part 2, part 3 @shadowsingerofnight (ofduskanddreams, velidewrites)
Tethered, part 2, part 3 @azrielshadowssing (velidewrites, shadowsingerofnight)
Nessian
Measuring up., part 2, part 3* @violet-shadows (thehaemanthus, headcanonheadcase)
Feysand
Glass of Your Rearview*, part 2, part 3* @the-lonelybarricade (azrielshadowssing, violet-shadows)
Haves and Have-Nots, part 2, part 3 @thehaemanthus (hlizr50, the-lonelybarricade)
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thewayshedreamed · 2 years
Note
"Shut up and hold me"
for nessian please
Surprise, love! I've been working on this one on and off and finally got it where I wanted it I think. Hope you enjoy some sweet Nessian period fluff from yours truly.
Shout-out to @duskandstarlight for brainstorming this with me many moons ago!
Word count: ~1k
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Cassian hated to see Nesta in pain. It wasn't exactly a vacation to be the one in said pain, but Nesta was used to the monthly ritual. She resented the first couple of days of her period, knowing they would forever be the worst of it.
Her boyfriend never habituated to it; when she curled in on herself, clutching a hot water bottle to her abdomen. For the most part, she wasn't one to moan or whine; not until Cassian fussed over her so much that he reminded her of a bird locked in a small room.
She had a threshold for his fussing, and she learned long ago that he’d figured her out. After so many years together, one typically channeled in on the other's patterns, and Cassian knew that Nesta tolerated about three acts of caregiving before she was snapping at him to sit nearby. He was mission-oriented, and the blunt order was enough to have him parked on the sofa with her.
Sometimes, he sat as close as he could manage and rubbed soothing circles over her stomach or lower back. Other times, he wedged his hulking frame between Nesta and the back of the couch to press his warmth into her. Either that, or he was trying to take her pain away, if the way he clutched her against him was any indication. As effective as he was in reducing her misery, a large part of the whole production was a comfort to Cassian. When he was presented with a loved one in pain, he needed to know he was of use just as much as the other needed the care.
It was one of those days that leveled her, and she braced herself for their ritual when she heard Cassian's key slide into the lock. Nesta clutched the throw pillow tighter to her stomach, stifling a groan at the growing tenderness.
"Hey Nes," Cassian called out, shaking the snow from his coat and hanging it on the hook. "How was your—"
His voice stopped suddenly, and his heavy footsteps approached where she lay on the couch. "Nesta, are you okay?"
She opened her eyes to find him kneeling before her, his perceptive gaze fixed on her face. They moved briefly to scan over her body and understanding washed over his features. To Nesta’s surprise, he pulled his phone from his pocket to glance at the date. His lips pressed into a firm line, and he offered a subtle, confirmatory nod to the screen. His hunch was confirmed, apparently.
"What can I get you?"
Nesta groaned. "A swift death?"
Warmth spread through her at the sound of his laugh, and the familiar comfort of it nearly brought a tear to her eye. "I'm vetoing that one. What about a heating pad?"
"Fine."
His steps thudded away, only for them to be retraced moments later. Cassian muttered a curse at the outlet being out of reach behind the couch. Without warning, he lifted the corner to move it away from the wall by several inches. Tension lined each of Nesta’s muscles at the sudden jostling, soothed by Cassian’s deep, quiet voice.
“Sorry, Sweetheart. The cord wouldn’t reach anywhere else. I’ll get you comfortable, okay?”
Nesta nodded, her irritation mounting. Part of it was due to his fussing, no matter how well she predicted it. The other part of it was with herself in realizing she was the one who desperately craved Cassian’s physical affection, his warmth and his doting. She had artfully convinced herself that she humored Cassian by allowing him to be a true mother hen that it disoriented her to rely so heavily on his comfort.
That didn’t mean she planned to deviate from their usual routine, if only to preserve some shred of dignity.
Cassian moved with practiced ease in rearranging the couch cushions to Nesta’s usual specifications. His hands were gentle when they turned to the button of her jeans, just barely easing the heating pad up her abdomen for better access. Shimmying her out of them, he tossed them on the chair nearby and grabbed a soft throw blanket from the basket nearby of Nesta’s favorites.
She groaned, shifting the heating pad back into its home for the foreseeable future. Cassian draped the blanket over her legs and stood to his full height.
“I’ll get you some water, maybe a snack. I’ll be right—”
Nesta took the offer for the opportunity it was. She’d officially held up her end of their little charade, and her patience waned with a savage quickness.
“Stop fussing,” she ordered, her tone firm but with less of a bite than usual. She didn’t have it in her. “Just— shut up and hold me.”
Cassian’s eyes softened, his sharp features morphing into unfiltered adoration. Nesta reminded herself of her blessings that such a man read between her harsh lines and saw the nuance beneath— that a man like Cassian loved her to madness.
“Alright,” he conceded, toeing off his shoes and removing his belt.
He stripped down to his boxer-briefs and his black undershirt, and Nesta took a moment to take him in. There was no heat behind the look, only a pure, objective appreciation of beauty. And the solid mass that was about to serve as her own personal furnace.
“Make some room for me,” he murmured.
Nesta wiggled pitifully toward the edge to make room for Cassian to slide onto the couch behind her. He was careful not to disturb her position as much as possible, and in return, Nesta bit her tongue when he failed. His effort was admirable enough.
Cassian settled his weight and tucked his arm beneath her neck, using it to cradle her head with his bicep and forearm. The other angled over her waist to pull her flush against him. Nesta melted against him, taking his scent into her lungs and allowing his body heat to ease her tension.
He tucked his fingers between her hip and the couch to keep his hold as stable and snug as possible. The likelihood that they slept that way was high, and he didn’t dare risk her rolling to the carpet. Nesta could only imagine how insufferable he’d become as a result.
No matter how entwined they were, it never felt close enough. Nesta moved her legs to lace with his, and in response, Cassian tucked his cheek against the crown of her head. Coccooned properly against him, she timed her breaths with his until blissful oblivion took them both.
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Since you are open for Halloween prompts, how about dialogue prompt #5: “I may or may not have stayed up to watch a horror movie and now I can’t sleep - don’t laugh at me! - can you please come over?” for Nessian! Bonus points if it's Cassian being the scaredy cat lol 😉
Scared, Sweetheart?
Nesta Archeron x Cassian
“I may or may not have stayed up to watch a horror movie and now I can’t sleep - don’t laugh at me! - can you please come over?”
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Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection
767 words
*******
She answered on the first ring.
“I’ve been gone less than three hours,” Nesta rolled her eyes and closed her book, making sure to mark her page before placing it on her lap. “You can’t tell me you miss me already.”
Cassian’s voice rang out clear from her speaker, as did his scoff. “Sweetheart, you should know by now that I always miss you.”
She hummed in affirmation and despite herself felt the corner of her mouth twitch up. “Did you call just to hear my voice, or did you have an actual reason?”
“Do I have to have a reason to call my girlfriend?” He asked almost indignantly, but she noticed that he avoided her question.
“No.” She shuffled to put her book on her coffee table and leaned against the arm of her sofa, glancing briefly into her kitchen to spot the flashing clock on her stove. It was late. Both she and Cassian had to work the next morning, hence why she’d opted not to stay the night at his place. She really should have gone to bed an hour ago but one minute she was picking up her book and the next she was a hundred pages deep. She should be asleep right now – so should Cassian. And while neither were strangers to the occasional late-night phone call, they generally respected each other’s schedules when it came to work. Meaning, she decided to push again for a straight answer. “But…”
He sighed. “I may or may not have stayed up to watch a horror movie and now I can’t sleep – don’t laugh.”
Her first snort was involuntary. The second one wasn’t.
He went on, serious but with a hint of pleading that only made her more amused. “Come over. Please.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he sounded offended. “Why do I want you to—”
“No, I mean why did you watch a horror movie?” She corrected with an eye roll. “You hate horror movies. You only tolerate them with me because I like them, and even then, you can’t go two seconds without holding onto me.”
“Yeah, well, I’d be holding onto you, horror movie or not. And don’t act like you don’t love it because I know you do.” He was right. “And I know that right now you’re rolling your eyes at me, but if I could see you then I’d see you biting your lip trying your best not to smile.”
Damn him. She released her lip from her teeth and doubled down on her questions. “Can we get back to the reason you decided to watch a film that you hate?”
“I don’t hate them,” he argued again. “No, I love ‘em. The scarier, the better. All those creepy-ass demons, deranged serial killers, and bloody massacres, what’s not to love?”
Nesta huffed a laugh and shook her head as she stood from the sofa and stretched, groaning as her stiff joints cracked. “And yet, you watch gory war movies without a problem.”
He sputtered for only a moment. “That gore is historical and generally accurate. If I’m watching one of those and someone’s bleeding out it's not because an undead, satanical, nightmare-inducing creature is making a meal out of them.”
“Mhm, so you admit horror movies give you nightmares?”
Nesta waited as she searched for a clean pair of dress pants she could wear into the office tomorrow, carefully folding them and placing them in a bag before aiming for her bathroom to collect her small go-bag of toiletries.
“Irrelevant,” Cassian finally answered, and she could hear rustling in the background as if he was settling into bed. “Are you coming over or not?”
They both knew she was.
So instead of answering, she asked another question, still not understanding why he would not only choose a horror movie but then watch it all the way through. “You did know what movie you were playing, right?”
More rustling.
“Yes, and?”
She thought she heard the faintest trace of a smile in his voice which stopped her in her tracks as she neared the front door.
“Did you watch that movie just to have a reason to call me back over there tonight?”
“Yes, and?”
She absolutely heard the grin in his words this time. Leaning her forehead against her door and loosing a long-suffering sigh, she tried and failed to hold back a smile.
“You’re an idiot.” Nesta stepped out of her apartment and locked the door behind her.
“Your idiot.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, half grumbling half chuckling, with another roll of her eyes as she walked towards her car, “my idiot.”
*****
Taglist:
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darklove9314-blog · 1 year
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Nessian but make it stay-at-home-bf who has to take care of workaholic-gf
An aroma wafted through Nesta’s nose as she set her briefcase down, shutting the door behind her as she kicked off her high heeled shoes and headed towards the kitchen to see what her boyfriend, Cassian was cooking up. 
When she entered the kitchen a smile illuminated Cassian’s face, as he turned to greet her, opening his arms wide for her so that she could step into his embrace. 
“There’s my hardworking girl. I hope you’re hungry, I made plenty of food for us to eat.” Cassian mused, gesturing to the spread of food before them, making Nesta’s mouth water. 
“Famished.” Nesta mused as she turned to press a kiss to his cheek, making her way to the kitchen table as she watched him cook with interest. 
“Do you want a glass of wine?“ Cassian asked her as a smile blossomed on her face.
“Yes, please.” Nesta answered as Cassian wandered over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for her, before leaning down and handing it to her pressing a kiss to her cheek as she smiled at him.
“Thank you.” She murmured to him as she took a sip of her wine.
“Anything for my hard working girlfriend.” Cassian smiled pouring himself a glass of wine as he took it back to the counter, setting it down as he continued on the food. 
“What did you make today?” Nesta asked taking a sip of her wine as Cassian stirred what was in the pan before answering, 
“I making us steak with a side of diced potatoes.” Cassian replied instantaneously making her mouth water in response. 
“It sounds amazing already.” Nesta purred, glancing at Cassian at the stove with an appreciative glance.
She saw a tug of a smile come to his lips at her response as the aroma drifted over to her, watching the confides of his ass as he worked. A tremendous sight indeed as she took another sip of wine. 
When he was finished with their food, Cassian set their dinner down at the table, the aroma making Nesta salivate as she cut into her steak and noticed it was the color of perfection, medium rare, just how she liked it.
She hummed from her lips as Cassian smiled in content, cutting into his steak, putting it to his own lips with a pleasurable hum of his own,
“This steak is perfection.” She complemented as a shy smile formed on his lips.
“I’m glad you like it, perhaps after dinner I can drawl you a bath and we could take one together.” He offered as a smile touched Nesta’s lips, bringing her glass to her lips to take a sip of her wine. 
“That sounds heavenly.” Nesta smiled wondering how she had gotten so Lucky to have someone like Cassian in her life. 
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vulpes-fennec · 1 year
Text
Solstice Ballet Date (Nessian) 🎁
Summary: A series of fluffy/smutty ACOTAR winter one-shots! 12 stories for the 12 days leading up to Solstice (December 21).
Nesta and Cassian pay a visit to Velaris's renowned theater for a Fae rendition of The Nutcracker.
Read: Masterlist | AO3
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“I still don’t know why I’m getting all dressed up for a date,” Nesta grumbled as Gwyn and Emerie fussed over her hair and makeup. Cassian had cryptically told Nesta last week to clear her schedule for a date, but did not tell her what exactly the date entailed. 
“It’s important to take time for each other,” Emerie reminded Nesta as she straightened the ribbons in her hair. “You and Cassian have been so busy these past few weeks: you with the new Valkyrie legion, Cassian with the new leadership in Autumn Court.” Emerie had arranged for Nesta’s golden-brown locks to cascade down her back tonight, deviating from her usual braid. It really must be a special occasion, Nesta thought, for the only other time she had worn her hair down was during her mating ceremony.
“But isn’t this a bit excessive?” Nesta glanced down at Gwyn, who was smoothing the skirt of Nesta’s slinky, crimson-red dress. Mor had lent Nesta the dress, adding that she didn’t mind if the dress came back in pieces with a wink. The garment was certainly sultry, with its leg slit and cinched waist. But it was also modest, with its high-necked collar and long sleeves. “And can’t you both give me a hint as to where Cassian is taking me tonight?” 
“All set!” Emerie clapped her hands, wholly ignoring Nesta. The Illyrian female glanced at the clock and threw a fancy shawl over Nesta’s shoulders. “Go, go, go! You’re going to be late.” Emerie and Gwyn hustled Nesta out to one of the House of Wind’s private balconies. 
Nesta was about to complain again, but the sight of Cassian waiting at the doorway left her speechless. Her mate was all sharp creases and clean-cut corners. He had ditched the Illyrian leathers he usually wore, opting for a fitted black jacket, black pants, and a crimson silk shirt. His shoulder-length dark hair had been combed and swept up, revealing a handsomely rugged smile. 
“Cat got your tongue, Nes?” he teased, watching Nesta’s slack-jawed expression. 
“You…you’re so dressed up!” she exclaimed, breaking out of her spell. Nesta sniffed the air delicately. Cassian had even put on cologne. “Where are we going?” 
“You look beautiful, too,” Cassian gave her a light kiss on the lips and curled his arm around her waist. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, but you’ll see soon. Now come on.” 
Azriel, Gwyn, and Emerie gathered at the balcony to wave goodbye. Azriel leaned in close to his brother’s ear. “You’ve got the tickets, right?” the spymaster asked under his breath. 
Cassian discreetly checked his breast pocket. “Yes sir. Safe and secure.” He gently picked up Nesta, her fluffy winter shawl tickling his nose. “Let’s go, Nes.” 
Though the winter air was icy, Cassian’s glowing red siphons generated a force field that prevented the wind from blistering Nesta’s face and tousling her hair. Below them, Velaris glowed with warm hearths and faelight and its citizens looked as small as ants.
Cassian landed softly in the heart of the Rainbow of Velaris. It was early evening, just after the dinner hour. She could hear the faint sound of carolers in the distance, could smell the delicious food wafting from the restaurants nearby. Nesta clutched Cassian’s warm hand as they made their way through the snowy streets on foot. She had half a mind to ask where they were going, but he would probably answer vaguely again. 
The city’s main theater emerged as they rounded the corner, stone-hewn columns and gold-topped spires stretching into the sky. The renowned establishment was home to the Night Court orchestra and wind ensemble, the Velaris Actors Guild, as well as various dance troupes. Well-dressed couples were walking through the theater’s ornate wooden doors, chattering excitedly. Nesta blinked, putting two and two together. “Are we going to the theater?” she asked.
“Bingo. I got us tickets to see a show.” 
“What kind of show?” Nesta hadn’t ever been to a Velaris show before, though Feyre was always recapping the performing arts highlights. 
“A show that has dancing.” They walked up the snowy steps. 
Nesta’s jaw dropped when an attendant handed her a program at the ticket stand. The show was a ballet that told the story of a female befriending a nutcracker prince and their subsequent journey through the sugared realms. An old folk tale. “Have I told you about how much I love you?” Nesta glanced up at her mate’s handsome face adoringly. 
“Yes, but I’ll never tire of hearing you say it.” Cassian kissed Nesta on the tip of her frozen nose. The tickets were received without a hitch, and the two stepped across the theater’s toasty threshold. 
Nesta’s icy blue eyes widened in wonder. The inside of the theater was lavishly decorated for the upcoming Solstice holiday, but decorations aside, the space was still opulent. The lobby was lined with beautiful paintings of past performances and illuminated by golden light. Soft, wine-red carpet cushioned her feet. Nesta made a beeline for the open doors leading into the theater, but Cassian tugged her towards the right.
“A balcony seat?” Nesta whispered to her mate as he held her hand, leading her up a curving staircase. They strode down the hallway to a small alcove that overlooked the theater. “Cassian, just how much were these tickets?” 
“Not that much.” The general shrugged, guiding Nesta to one of the plush velvet seats. “I have 500 years of savings, you know.” 
“Cassian! You shouldn’t have.” Nesta’s nose burned with emotion as she stared down at the curtained stage, the moving audience down below. Even at the height of her father’s wealth, the Archerons could never afford balcony seats at the theater. She threw her arms around her mate, burying her face into his chest. “I would have been happy with even a seat in the very back row…this is amazing.”
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Ever since I learned you loved dancing and music, I’ve been wanting to take you to one of Velaris’s theater shows.”  
Because they were the only two patrons in the balcony, Cassian and Nesta were able to raise the arm rests to snuggle closer to each other. Nesta loved curling up against Cassian’s broad chest and having his velvet wings wrap around her, keeping her warm. Cassian loved resting his chin on Nesta’s head and cradling her soft curves against him. Though he would never tell her this, she was like a comfortable, weighted cushion. 
The theater’s domed ceiling appeared to be a fresco of the night sky. Thick indigo drapes kept the stage closed off from the audience, but from her vantage point, Nesta could see the musicians setting up in the orchestra pit. Fae of all shapes and sizes were in the audience, their soft murmuring was a comforting white noise.
When the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the theater. Nesta leaned forward, tense with anticipation. Clapping arose as the stage curtains drew apart with a swish, revealing a singular dancer. The beauty was poised against a Solstice celebration backdrop, her neck long and elegant, her limbs utterly still. The flowy white dress she wore resembled a nightgown, though Nesta could spy sheer tights and flat, satin dance shoes on her feet.
Cued by the orchestra’s hidden conductor, violins and woodwind instruments launched into energetic song. The female leapt into dance, gliding over the floor with delicate steps. Her arms gestured effortlessly, her skirt swished gently around her long legs, and her expression was one of placid, professional grace. But Nesta knew from the shining look in those emerald eyes, that the female was overcome with wild joy. 
The female was joined by a throng of other dancers, all adorned in their own costumes and makeup. Nesta had never seen anything like it: a choreographed story, each dancer with their role to play. All her previous theater experiences were for singing, or acting. Never dancing. The sweet music filled the crevices of Nesta’s soul, stirring her instinct to fly away with the melody. 
While Nesta was engrossed by the dancing onstage, Cassian was captivated by the delight on his mate’s face. His hazel eyes regarded how her blue-gray eyes tracked the dancers’ movements with precision, her cheeks were glowing in the dim light, and her rosy lips were slightly open in pure awe. The queen of dance was fascinated by the machinations of her fellow artists on the stage. 
As the show progressed, the mates collectively gasped during tense scenes, their hearts thrumming wildly with the dramatic music. They sighed with wonder at the efficient changing between the sets, and “oohed” and “aahed” at the impressive formations on stage. They pointed out little details of the costumes and dance by whispering into each others’ ears. 
Though unexpected, the night was truly Nesta’s idea of perfection: leaning against Cassian, his hand gently stroking the back of her’s, with exquisite music and incredible dancing before her. Immortality, with its promise of endlessly beautiful nights like this, certainly had its perks. 
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tadpolesonalgae · 8 months
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Currently craving nessian x matereader 😭 we need more of those. They're such a hot couple I can just imagine the reader being such a little warrior too but they find her cute.
You’re so right about that, they’re just— 😳
Anyway, I’ve given it a go so I’ll be posting it in a couple of days for you to enjoy! I’m not sure how well I nailed the little warrior part, but hopefully it will suffice? I tried to make reader a little more independent in the fic, so she isn’t as moony-eyed as she is in some of the other things I’ve written!
This one was honestly really fun to write :)
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velidewrites · 2 years
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For the prompts thing: 7 with Nessian 🥰
7 - “I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner.”
Cassian gaped at his mate in shock, the strong grip of her hands on his arms the only thing keeping his trembling form steady. Had it not been for the nails digging into the golden muscles of his skin, he would have fallen to his knees at her revelation.
Pregnant.
"Nesta..." he breathed, unable to do anything but stare at his mate and marvel at the sight. To inhale her sweet, honeyed scent, now ripe with new life.
"I know," she said, her voice a choked whisper as she brought her forehead to his.
His legs wobbled at the touch. He couldn't get a breath down, wanting nothing more than to drown in the warmth of her skin on his.
Cassian already had a family. He had people that he loved, people he'd devoted his life to without asking for anything in return. But this...what she'd just given him...this was life created from their love. A product of their story, from painful struggles to joyful memories. A new beginning.
Their own little family.
"I love you...so much," his voice was strained as he swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "I...I wish I had the words to..." There was no way of describing it. The love that was pouring out of his soul and deep into her hers, safely wrapped in the golden thread that shone brightly between the two of them.
"I know," Nesta repeated, her eyes closed shut as if she too had felt the gentle tug on their bond. A tug that came from neither of them, but from the very epitome of the love that bound them. "I love you, too. I'm sorry for not realising it sooner," she confessed.
"Nesta," he said, voice firm despite the emotions clawing at his throat. "You have given me everything I even wanted and more. Your love is the one thing I cherish the most above all others." He smiled. "And now, I'll get to see it combined with mine through the eyes of what will undoubtedly be the most beautiful child in Prythian, and the best gift you have ever given me."
She laughed, half-sobbing, and Cassian laughed back, no longer able to fight the tears streaming down his face.
"They really will be the most beautiful, won't they?" Nesta asked.
His arms wrapped tightly around her, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he said, "If they're anything like their mother."
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adelindschade · 2 years
Text
A Thousand Futures (A Thousand Cuts, Part 17)
*because I suck at titles* 
Soft Nessian Fuff, Domestic Snippets, and Rhys’ just desserts implied towards the end ( to be expanded on later)
They established a pleasant routine. Domesticity was favorable and he yearned to return to it after a grueling day watching over the meager recruits that they had to work with. The cabin would be warm, and he was overjoyed to find her on the couch, dressed down in something cozy, and a new book in her hand. There was something about Nesta being home – making this place her own space safe just as it had been his – that prompted him to rush the threshold to join her.
“This couch is not big enough for both of us,” she chuckled.
“Now it is,” he amended, manipulating her legs to settle on his lap.
He couldn’t get enough of her. She was calmer, too. Another change he was grateful to witness. There was no bickering or uncomfortable silence that wedged them apart anymore. If there was a stiffness to their posture, or trouble lined on their face, they’d be quick to address it, and talk it out. Genuine conversation. The kind that offered comfort, and problem solving, and acknowledgement that Cassian realized he appreciated. It was nice to be seen and heard. He didn’t know that was something he was missing until Nesta was there each night, allowing him to vent about everything and anything that bothered him.
Mostly stress from the growing demands of work and the strain war had on Illyria. Those issues were easy to diffuse and nullify over a mug of tea and retiring to the comforts of bed. His family disfunction was another ordeal.
“Don’t – don’t you dare!” she squawked as she saw where his fingers lingered. She tried to kick free, but one hand had held her ankle hostage.
“Your feet are so small,” he teased, ghosting over her heel. His hand could encompass the entire circumference of it. It reminded him how tiny she was compared to him. She may be taller than most females, but she was slender. Her frame was deceitfully slender – yet he could feel the definition of her legs when he squeezed the muscle. She was healthier, heartier, but still so small and dainty in contrasted to his own build.
“Cassian, no,” she barked but a smile played on her lips. His growing grin rivaled it.
“I wonder what would happen if I took this off,” he played at her sock.
“No,” she whimpered, pouting. “I’m cold! Please?”
“The fire is so hot, it’s scalding my skin,” he gestured to the blue flames silently dancing in the fireplace parallel to them. He began to pull at the cotton. She screamed and thrashed but in vain. Her hands clawed at his, dropping the book to free her tortured appendage.
“I’m begging,” she tried to plea, but she fell forward in a heap of laughter. “I’m serious!” she persisted but her tone implied anything but. She paused and so did he, following her lead. “What do I have to do to sway you to not do what you’re thinking of doing?”
He prolonged a moment of ponder, grinning rather viciously.  
“I really want to do this though,” he insisted, shaking with laughter.
“This is cruel and unusual punishment I did nothing to deserve. This is a war crime. Torture! Azriel would categorize this as torture! Why are you so cruel? How’d I get stuck with a sadist?” she smacked his arm with her unfinished book. He barely felt the strike, but he spun his shoulder nonetheless to avoid the bluntness of the paperback cover.
“You are theatrical,” he mused fondly, massaging her calf.
“You are ridiculous, and mean, and I don’t like you,” she decided, feigning a haughtiness, and returning her full attention to the book.
“Is that so?” he toyed, rubbing her foot as his hand descended back to where he intended.
“Nope,” she insisted, popping the ‘p’ for extra effect. She leaned back and ignored him. His ticking point. She was playing him like a fiddle, and they were both aware of it.
“Then I suppose this doesn’t make much of a difference,” he schemed. His fingers began to tickle the soft skin she rarely showed, and she contorted at the sensation, squealing, and thrashing fruitlessly as he stimulated the sensitive skin with his callous fingertips. She was like a twig in his grip, with him holding the ankle in place as he didn’t relent in the slightest.
Her melodic, free flowing laughter was like a siren sound to his ears. He only had to stop the shenanigans when his hand had to stop the other from kicking his thigh. She bit back her bottom lip, red in the cheeks, and unveiling dimples as she tried in vain to hold back a smile.
“You’re a dick,” she cackled, rolling back her head into the pillow.
“I’ve heard that,” he played along, tilting ever so slightly until his chest lined up with her arm. She had to shuffle an inch to wedge him between herself and the back couch cushion. “I’m your dick though.”
“That sounded so bad,” she wheezed, snorting through her nose in a failed effort to restrain herself.
“It’s going to get worse,” he promise with beaming optimism.
“I don’t doubt it,” she agreed, granting him one of those rare, unrestrained smiles that brought out her best colors. The speckles in her eyes, the rosy hue in her cheeks, the supple pink of her lips, and the way her freckles stood out across her nose and under her eyes. He was enamored with all of it.
His arm draped itself across her middle and tugged her close. She acquiesced and nuzzled closer.
“You’re so cold,” she remarked, gliding her fingers up and down his arm. “Have you been outside all day? You must have been freezing.”
He had ample protection, but the wind was especially brutal. His face was still burning from its vicious bite, and he managed to stifle his sniffling as he acclimated back into the warmth of the cabin. He relished in her body molding to his, and the softness of her hair as he rested his chin atop her temple, but mindful not to apply pressure as he observed her full frame.
It was a dream he would kill anyone that woke him up from.
Dark leggings, an oversized sweater, one foot missing a sock, and a blanket strewn over her lap that was close to falling off the ledge and onto the rug. Her skin was far from freezing and smelled like spice – likely from the batch of fresh cookies that she managed to not burn, sitting tantalizingly on the coffee table next to a steaming mug.
He wondered if, since she made them, if he took one for himself, if it would risk snapping the bond in place. He dared not tempt fate and kept his hands away from the baked goods and occupied himself by swarming the same digits around her torso. The other arm tunneled under the throw pillow they shared.
Her fingertips continued to draw undecipherable pictures across his skin, sometimes tracing the ink, and then falling off the path to design something herself.
“You are hot as fire itself. Emerie must have been working you overtime,” he noted affectionately. She was driving the cold away.
“Who knew sewing made you sweat?” she replied. The corner of her lips tipped upwards in a content smile. She had an easiness about her, relaxed and placid in his embrace. “That’s a misconception. It’s not the sewing. It’s the tedious needling and framing and cutting – no, I won’t bore you. I will say my legs are like jelly from kneeling in the same position for too long. We made progress today on a huge order. I can’t wait for it to be done.”
“Not used to being on your knees all day?” he dared to test the waters. Cassian was fully aware his words bore more meaning than one. His grin was apologetic.
She slapped his chest but could not bury the laughter that muffled through his shirt.
“You’re disgusting,” she snorted, burrowing deeper into his chest.
The first week together – cohabitating – was utter bliss. The first day was awkward simply because she was slow to add touches of herself, but Cassian insisted that she bring in whatever she could, ask for whatever she wanted, to feel at home. She didn’t have much to spare from Emerie’s humble closet turned temporary guest room, and not much else before that given what things Elain loosely packed on her behalf to be delivered to the House of Wind.
There were a few updates to be made around the cabin to benefit her. He expanded the bookshelves and Nesta took up every inch she could with her smutty, sickly romantic books. They brought her joy, so he’d extend it however much he could ensure she never ran out.
He especially loved watching her face light up as she raced through the chapters. The widening of her eyes, excited when the lead character made a bold move; the gasp when the couple did something naughty and unsavory; and the whimper and pained expression they had a fight – something dumb and easily avoidable, he assumed, as she yelled as much at the pages. Idiot, idiot, idiot! She scathed, grunting in frustration as abandoning the book for a moment to process.
He adored how she bit her bottom lips, showing off those lovely dimples she hid from the world. Any reason to coax a smile out of her, he would do just that to ensure she did.
He loved how so engrossed in the plot she became. So much so, she didn’t even protest when he encroached on her space without warning and rested his head on her stomach as his arms ensnared either side of the tiny figure.
Somedays, she’d be lying on top of him as he couldn’t turn down the temptation of gathering her up and taking her down with him on the couch as he recouped much needed rest. Her back would melt into his chest, a perfect fit. There’d be times he’d catch her feet playing with his. She would turn the page and he tried to follow along, but his attention was cut to the cascading hair she undid for the days she could spare her scalp the irritation her many pins caused, a stark contrast to the braids and coronets she favored before.
He was getting pieces of her no one else got. She was peeling back layers and her heavily guarded walls. He never thought he’d get this far. He never thought he wouldn’t have to fight to her to put aside her teeth and claws. Cassian was grateful for these moments shared just between them two.
There were other parts he savored, too.
The way she rejoiced when she successfully baked her favorite cookies, not quite the same taste as the way the bakery in Velaris fashioned, but close enough she moaned she devoured the first batch, and the second, and teased that she’d spare him one if it wasn’t for the tricky bond.
No cookie yet, she would laugh off. He’d reply he wasn’t one for sweets anyhow, admiring her small – but meaningful - success. She would find a way to make herself at home, one encourage step after another. Good, she’d harrumph valiantly. More for me. I don’t like sharing.
She still baked an extra batch, and another, for Gwyn and Emerie. Corinne wasn’t fond of the excessive sugar, making Cassian laugh as he had an ally in his distaste for the treats. Finally, something in common in the stubborn youngling, but that didn’t lessen her resolve against him. He was adamant that would change – but Nesta and Emerie shared a comical look that implied he was deluded.
Still, if Nesta ever were to offer him a cookie, he’d eat it in a heartbeat – even if his mouth puckered at it’s odd, over-sweetened taste.
He didn’t want to share Nesta, not even when he knew his High Lady was asking about her constantly. It was selfish and he knew it. The little improvements and victories he witnessed to were something he kept close and near to his heart. Those were Nesta’s triumphs, and he did his part. It was a joint effort and one they celebrated together in their own, private way. This was primary her own celebration, and something he was granted privilege, too. He wouldn’t spoil it for either of them.
She was gaining her strength, her figure, muscle even, and more importantly, that smile and glow that lulled him to her side. She retained her confidence and her held her head high amongst the toughest and crudest parts of Prythian, defying them in a way he knew only she could accomplish. It reminded him so much of that haughty mortal female that stared him down despite his towering size, unwilling to show weakness. Strong of mind, body, and soul – alive with a fire no one could tame. That was his Nes.
Nesta wasn’t broken or defeated. She was nothing like the hollow shell whom he found in a pool of her own life source. She didn’t resent him anymore or push him away. She would close the distance and try to mend their differences. It was a pleasant change and one he intended to nurture without further interference.
They’d bond over breakfast, with her remarking fondly at least one of them could cook, or else they’d be screwed.
You hunt, I roast – he negotiated, remembering her posture with the bow. Her aim was off, but it was better than before. He’d convince her later on the day to allow him to show her the proper handling, and maybe able to meet her mark before sundown with his instructions.  Nothing beat the proud expression that took hold of her face, enlightening them both, and bringing about a newfound cheer to conclude their day.
But you’re so good at both, she whined. He was nearly tempted to cave if it wasn’t for her obvious teasing.  She’d come up behind him, nestled to his back as her thin arms coiled around his belly.
I’m confused by how you insist on being independent and yet desire nothing more than to be a spoiled wife, he jested back lightly. He knew her nose scrunched but a smile remained on her blessed face. They were both content, making the most of a quiet evening as the storm rolled over the grey mountain side.
I just hate the cold, she giggled. It was the most enticing sound. You get the game and I’ll make sure the fire is stoked and the sheets are warm. Deal?
So many ways to construe that sentence and her grin implied she knew the subtle context behind it, too. The Valkyries were keen on their jokes, teetering on the dirtier sort, and now it seemed Cassian was a recipient of that exclusive humor shared amongst the three. For now, she meant literally, rather than metaphorically, and Cassian was content with that.
Deal, he chuckled, rotating slightly to reel her closer. He’d find declining Nesta any request was a war effort in and of itself. She’d accept his answer regardless, but he didn’t want to disappoint her. Never again. He had years to make up for the instances he already had. If she knew how much a hold she had on him, he’d be ruined – but he found that he didn’t mind it at all. Let her make a mess out of him. So long he was hers.
His arm logged around her neck, careful not to suffocate her, and she tilted in the direction he desired until she was latched at his side – hips conjoined. All Cassian wanted to do in that moment was plant a kiss to the crown of her head. She leaned into it, preening.
In public, they struggled to mind their distance, and pay heed to where their hands settled. In private, all bets were off. Nothing intimate yet as clothes remained intact, but he couldn’t get enough of her body sewn to his, their hands locked, and able to relish in their scent mingling.
I’m not sure if it’s the food or the woods or whatever you wore, but something smells good, she’d say. Cassian was certain it was to mess with his head. She took a deep whiff – first to his shirt, lingering for a second – and then to the sizzling pan. Yep, it’s the food, she declared.
He simply shook his head and let out a laugh. This female would kill him. She knew exactly what she was doing. He wanted nothing more than what he could fit in his hands, and she was like the perfect glove to keep them warm.
To say Cassian was in a foul mood was the understatement of the century. Finally, Rhys would visit, even with Feyre’s labor imminent in the next coming weeks. The matter in Illyria was urgent and Rhys needed to establish himself. Cassian had been begging him to do this for weeks it seemed.
Only it meant putting Rhys and his mate in uncomfortable proximity. It was unsettling and Cassian awoke angry as the prospect that Nesta, whom he held close and found safely tucked under the blanket, would be once more exposed to the very thing that nearly took her from this world. The last two times the in-laws interacted, great harm befell her, and Cassian would not stand if she were to be subjected to something similar again.
There were too many discontent Illyrians – and Nesta was a prime target for them to take out their frustrations if Rhys were to muck this one up. That’s to say if Rhys wasn’t the one himself inflicting the damage, with his words or spite or the magic he spun when provoked. His High Lord was always incensed whenever Nesta was concerned.
This time, she was stronger, and with a grudge to bear as mighty as the flame she wielded, awaiting his arrival. It would have been seen as threat – likely would any how – despite it being black as coal in the early morning hours the couple gathered on the mountain outskirts. Perfectly practical to make most of what they could to illuminate themselves.
I want to talk to Nesta. Rhys had warned him prior. Nesta was fast asleep while Cassian stirred restlessly, though not too riled to disturb her peaceful slumber. She has the power to help Feyre.
No, Cassian deafened in reply. Nesta wouldn’t even know how to help Feyre when her powers were still a relative mystery. His High Lord was asking too much, and she’d be burdened with blame – and whatever punishment he thought just – when she couldn’t deliver a miracle. Rhys had been stunned silent. I stand firm by what I said. When it concerns my mate, you are to mind your distance. No demands. No guilt trips. No questions. She shouldn’t have to risk her life just because you risked Feyre’s.
That’s her sister! Rhys roared.
That is my mate! He returned just as loud. He was happy to use the same logic Rhys always weaponized to serve his own purpose. Fair was fair. Just because you endangered yours does not mean I should endanger mine! Does Feyre even know you’re asking Nesta about this matter?
…Yes. She knows now.
Ah, that explains the sudden change. Rhys would not have parted from her side otherwise… unless Feyre demanded space to process the betrayal. His High Lord sounded defeated. Exhausted, even. Estrangement could do that. Cassian almost pitied him. Almost.
Cassian would have asked how that development happened. Mor wouldn’t have opposed Rhys and he doubted Amren cared enough either way to be the one to breach the silence. Too much trouble on her part. Azriel was too occupied with his mission and Nesta was still recovering from the slight dealt by her sisters, deciding space was best for all of them now that she had the power to decide what she wanted.  
They may be ready to forgive but Nesta hadn’t quite reached the same acceptance, and Cassian would respect that. She would not be forced into anything unless she was truly ready. A reunion between sisters must be sincere, Cassian agreed. The ground they reunited on ought to be equal.
“I will help,” Nesta decided after Cassian disclosed that Rhys would be asking a great deal of her. The window was still black, and they had been slow to dress, lingering in the kitchen as the hearth lit blue.
“You can say no,” he insisted. He despised the idea of her pushing herself, to make another daunting sacrifice that could cost them both. “This is his mess. He had more than ample resources and time to have figured this out.”
“I can’t give up on her,” Nesta murmured. He enclosed his arms around her, offering his support silently as she met his eyes. There was no hesitation, or even anger. She had made her mind up. “Feyre is my sister. We have our differences, but she should not be condemned to die simply because… because Rhys is too prideful to admit his faults,” she growled the last part.
“We can punish him later but even I’m not fool enough to think Feyre won’t give him hell for what he withheld from her. By all means, this is her battle, and her cross to bear with him. However, I will not stand idly by when we haven’t exhausted all options. Let me try – trust me to try. Feyre is a fighter, but this isn’t something she should do alone. I won’t allow that to happen again as I wait for people to step up and do what’s right. Not again,” she whispered the last part, bowing her head as her eyes dulled in color.
Guilt shrouded her features. He didn’t like how strained her face became, or how tight her brows furrowed together. His thumb rolled comforting circles into the small of her back.
“I waited for my father to do something for so long, and he never did,” she recalled with some lingering bitterness. “I got the brunt of the blame and part of me believes it was justly deserved. I was a hypocrite for demanding action, and yet I did nothing but stand aside and push a crippled old man to be something he refused to be. I take full responsibility for that. I supposed I was just furious how his memory lives on, so easily forgiven, while I bore the blame for everything. I will admit my fault, but it never sat well with me that he never got any himself. It’s behind us now,” she decided. “I can’t be angry anymore when I accept that I was just as culpable as him when Feyre took up his burden, and I made as many excuses for myself as our father did.”
“He eventually stepped up but…” she mulled it over, biting back her lip. Nesta shook her head, unravelling some of her free-flowing hair, and sighed. “So many people wait, and wait, and when it’s too late, we lose so much we can’t get back,” she hissed, discarding her mug to cross her arms, clearly agitated as ghosts resurged from the past. “I never got to make peace with my father, or recognize his effort to… do the very thing I yearned for him to do since we were cast into that miserable cabin but… I can’t repeat the same mistake again,” she croaked in a whisper.
She blew out a long, ragged breath. Then, to his astonishment, she lifted her head, and her eyes were hard, lit with a new purpose he could not extinguish. He swallowed roughly, unable to tear away his gaze from something so entrancing.
The woman to braved the wall and demanded to follow a mercenary into the wilderness was revived before him. Steadfast and true, unafraid, and undeterred. Nesta would not waver, and no amount of reasoning would compel her from this quest.
“I can’t stop you from doing anything,” he assured, kissing her head chastely. “That’s something you two have in common.”
Gods help Rhys. The ferocity of the Archeron sisters was legendary. To invoked the wrath of one would strike fear in any sound mind – but two? It was a death warrant. Rhys only had himself to blame for his own predicament and dragging Feyre down with him.
“I will help Feyre, as much as I can, and then some, until I cannot anymore,” Nesta leaned into his affection. “I love her too much to repeat the past. I know what is most important. I won’t punish the wrong person. I won’t be blinded by my anger to forget what matters most.”
They swayed. He didn’t know how else to comfort her as she bore her soul open – sharing things she would otherwise not. This was exclusive to him, and him only, and Cassian worried one wrong word would silence her for the worst. He didn’t want to risk Nesta thinking something that wasn’t true because he didn’t craft his words carefully enough to considering they could be misconstrued. Instead, he reinforced his support with unbounded affection, nurturing what it was between them.
“Rest assured, if Feyre doesn’t make him pay, I will ensure Rhys will suffer for what he has done to her, how he lied to her, and that he will never, ever commit the same offense again so long as I breathe. The betrayal he’s committed is unforgivable, but that isn’t my cross to bear. I will hold back my anger for now, though I doubt it hold a candle to the wrath Feyre has in store for the bastard.” That brought a smile to her face – gentle at the surface but Cassian knew Nesta too much to underestimate her vindicative streak.
“Oh, we both know he will regret it,” Cassian vouched, smoothing down her hair. Her small hands settled on his sides – unable to reach any wider. They stayed like that for a moment, savoring the closeness. He closed his eyes in bliss, memorizing the even rhythm of her breath, and the patter of her heartbeat.
“There is much more pressing matters at hand, but once this is solved… if Feyre doesn’t roast him alive…” she smiled too wide.
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bookishlilcorner · 2 years
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The Eye of the Isla de Cristales
A Nessian fanfiction.
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Pirate!AU, Fantasy, Adventure
Trope: Enemies to Lovers (or more specifically, two-people-who-can’t-get-along to lovers).
TW(s): None
So I said I planned for it to be a stand-alone, but I obviously couldn’t do that. So it’ll be a two-maybe-three parts fic. I hope you enjoy it!
Tag list: @faeriebambula @acloudyskyy​ @awesomelena555​
Inspired by this beautiful art!
Sypnosis:  Nesta Archeron, Captain of the Deathbringer, is on a quest to find a coveted treasure on the infamous island of the Isla de Cristales rumored to grant a miracle to anyone who finds it. She is desperate to find it, to the point of madness. Her sister is gravely ill and does not have much time left. Now enter Cassian, Captain of the Greedy Pearl, who has always butted heads with Nesta and her crew. His insufferably cocky and flirtatious ways always got under her skin. Unfortunately for her, he is also searching for the lost treasure for his own gain. And so begins a long journey to the sinister island, each following a different map that they believe is the fastest way to get to the treasure first. The two pirates always pride themselves of knowing the sea like the back of their hand. However, the ocean is treacherous and unpredictable, and they are about to found that out the hard way.
SERIES: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
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“Another round of beer for us, dear Órlaith!” Nesta shouted, raising her empty glass.
“Comin’ right up, Captain Archeron.”
A cacophony of yells and hands clapping followed her words. Her crew’s loud voices brought a lively ambience in the tavern this night. A nice and quaint place it was truly, although a mind boggling scent of algae and mud stubbornly remained no matter the numerous times the place was scrubbed down to its every corner. The brown woody walls were decorated with plates, pictures and items. A gently orange hue from the lanterns attached to the ceiling illuminated the tavern. Stairs led to the upstairs chambers where travellers paid to stay the night.
Nesta Archeron sat at the end of the table, watching her crew light up the night in lively conversation, card playing and making out with others in the tavern. She removed her grandiose hat, which was laying on the table next to her empty glass. Blowing a errand strand of golden brown hair away from her face, she didn’t notice the voluptuous lady coming with their beers until a loud thud resonated on the table in front of her.
“There you go. Celebratin’ tonight, aye?” Her freckled hand let go of the beers on the table, her sweet brown eyes looking at the Captain.
“That, we are. We just got our hands on a massive treasure off Antilliards Island.” Her second answered with a satisfied grin, hands behind her head.
She wore deep navy high waisted pants with brown boots rising to her calves. Her brown shirt had a deep cut, revealing ornate gold necklaces on her bronze skin, and ended in cuffs around her wrists. Her long black hair was up in a loose bun, stray strands of hair framing her face. She had small bell shaped golden earrings encrusted with rubies at the ends. They added a tinge of glow to her overall appearance. She was hauntingly beautiful. Alluring in an ethereal way.
She glanced at Nesta, still grinning. “Right, Captain?”
She smiled back at her. “That we did. Emerie found the map that led us straight to the gold. They’ve been grinning like idiots since we arrived here.”
She pointed to the rest of her crew, the men and the women dancing and singing old times songs in unison.
“More like stole it.” Emerie added with a smirk.
Nesta winked at her, taking a sip of her beer. Cold and refreshing, just like she needed it to be.
“You’re in a particular joyful today. Found something to your liking, haven’t you?” Órlaith said, a warm expression on her flushed face. It was rather humid today.
“You can say that.”
She was more than joyful. She was ecstatic. It wasn’t just any treasure that they found. Amidst the gold and rare gemstones in the large chest carefully hidden in a cave deep in the island, she found what she had been searching for a long time. A map, one as old as the times of the ancient legends being written, that led to one of the rarest magical relics ever created.
The Eye of the Isla de Cristales.
Long believed to be a mythical tale told by elderly women with too much imagination, the Eye was a prized item of an old forgotten queen made by a powerful sorcerer. The island itself was thought to be fictitious since no explorers came across it nor did maps had its location. It was a somber unreachable island rumored to be plagued by a dark curse. Many explorers and greedy pirates ended in a watery grave trying to reach its shores, forever laying at the bottom of the ocean.
No matter how many variations of this tale were told, none of them ever depicted the object and its appearance. The legends said that the Eye had the ability to fulfill the wishes of anyone who possessed it, but the old queen abused of its amazing power, drunk on her need for more lands, gold and power. Therefore, the sorcerer, anguished from all the tyranny she caused, whisked it away to the dark island with only a tiny bit of magic, one wish, remaining. It laid there forever waiting to be used one last time.
Wishes could be as mundane as wanting a new dress to marvelous miracles such as healing someone from a deadly incurable disease, which was precisely the reason why Nesta was so adamant to find a way to get it after discovering evidences that the relic was real in one of her trips. She was searching restlessly and desperately for a clue on the island’s location, asking every people with knowledge she came across in countless villages and islands.
She needed to have her hands on it. She was almost high on madness, not caring that she was barely getting sleep and having some members of her crew quit during her quest. Not caring about the curse and the inability to reach it. She couldn’t allow herself the time to think about it. Time was a luxury she didn’t have. She was reaching the brink of insanity until today, now having an itinerary to the cursed island in her possession.
She moved her hand to pat her belly under the deep silky burgundy shirt she wore, feeling the parchment paper underneath like it provided all the ailments to soothe her troubles. She let herself smile.
Finally, she thought. I finally found it. It won’t be long until you’re healthy again, no longer suffering.
She felt someone brush her arm and looked up to see Emerie angle her head to the side. “Your sisters are here.”
Eyes wide open, she quickly turned to the entrance. There they were, as radiant as the first lights of dawn. She saw one of them wave at her with a smile that would melt even the coldest of hearts. Her hair fell in ringlets, the front strands pinned by golden rose hairpins. Her warm brown eyes filled with joy, accentuating her glowing sun-kissed complexion. She wore a fine blush dress, structured at the waist by a corset and held an white umbrella above to the sister beside her, who was holding her arm in support.
Her youngest sister stood there with a warm smile, blue grey eyes staring with the same joy reflected by the other despite the exhaustion haunting them. Her golden brown hair was held in a bun and she wore a flowing dress of periwinkle and pink that draped nicely on her figure, corset out of sight. She probably didn’t wear any, as she once mentioned it being hurtful to her bones now. Her skin — once radiant — was dull, her freckles seeming lightened, and her lips were dry. She was beautiful regardless on her condition. 
She was once a fierce and adventurous lady. A magnificent huntress with a sharp aim other hunters could only dream to have. At only twenty, she managed to save their village from food shortage by going out herself and hunting in the dangerous woods bordering the village of Elnaím. Unfortunately, she caught something there during her last hunt. No one really knew what exactly, neither did she. The only thing they knew is that she was getting weaker day after day, and the village’s physician dreadfully declared that she had only a few years left.
Words that have been haunting them all for now two years. Words that have propelled Nesta to join the ways of piracy in order to not only get money, but to find a remedy to her agony. She quickly rose through the ranks and now was the Captain of the Deathbringer, feared by most pirates.
They took a step towards their table and Nesta saw her sister stumble. She quickly rose and joined them, holding her other arm.
“Feyre, why did you come here? I thought your condition worsened?” She asked, pulling the chair next to hers for her to sit.
Taking a sip from the glass of water Emerie brought her, the youngest sister thanked her before saying, “It was two weeks ago. I’ve been better these past days, good enough to help Elain tend to the flowers in the backyard. And after hearing news of the Deathbringer sailing ashore, we knew you’d be here so we came to welcome you back.”
Nesta turned to Elain who was sitting between Feyre and Emerie. She looked so out of place in the tavern. She wasn’t really keen on these type of places, so the fact that she willingly came just to see her warmed her heart.
“How have you been?” She asked them both. “Do you need anything to eat?”
Elain shook her head. “No need. We just ate an hour ago. We’ve been well. Feyre has been getting better lately according to the physician, although she still needs to be careful not to overexert herself.” She gave a pointed look at the youngest, who contented herself to drink in silence. “He said to watch for any worrying signs.”
She nodded, trying to keep her facial expressions controlled. “I’ve brought a lot of money today. A lot of gold. I think it should be enough to pay for food and the physician.”
She showed her sisters a medium black linen bag that she had been guarding with all of her might in case of other customers getting too brave. Her sisters gasped loudly, eyes shining like she knew her own did.
“This is enough to keep us comfortable for the next two years.” Feyre exclaimed. “Where did you find it?”
“In the hidden caves of Antilliards Island. We put the majority of the treasure in our hidden place, but I brought some for you. Keep your eyes on it until you’re home safely.” She whispered, placing the bag on Elain’s lap who covered it with the her dress.
“Are you staying here longer this time? It’ll be Elain’s birthday in two days and we hoped you’d be here to celebrate.” Her youngest sister asked with hope gleaming her expression.
She hadn’t forgot. She made sure to come home as soon as possible to not miss it despite the protests of her crew wanting to go off and get drunk on Emerald Island. A known place for its sweet restaurants, delicious drinks, lively taverns and exquisitely animated parties.
“I’ll be there for her birthday, but I won’t stay here long. I’ll leaving the day after. I have a long trip to take.”
“Another? You’ve been taking so many these past months. We miss you a lot. Home is not the same without you.” Elain expressed.
She felt her heart squeeze inside her. “I know. I miss being home too.”
“What is the reason for all these trips? We already get so much gold. Is there some trouble?” Feyre asked.
“I can’t tell you yet, but I promise it’ll all be worth it once I come back.”
Nesta couldn’t tell them, especially Feyre, about the Eye and Isla de Cristales. She didn’t want to raise her hopes up only to come home empty handed, and she knew she would not take it well her risking her life for her sake.
Before she could switch the conversation to something more festive, the door of the tavern opened again. She turned to see a group of men slide in with loud chatter and laughs. They were approximatively seven, vaguely familiar in a way that she couldn’t pinpoint until her eyes narrowed on the tall muscular man in the middle. With long dark hair reaching his shoulders, damp dirtied up white linen shirt that clung to his torso and eyes of honey peering around the tavern with half boredom, he looked like he just came from a battle in the middle of the sea. This was certainly not far-fetched, as he and his crew were reputed to cause mischief and chaos across continents. The pirates of the Greedy Pearl were instilled with a greed so grand it would shame the devil of sin himself, and its captain was the worst of them all.
Nesta felt her blood sizzle when he peered into her eyes. Hazel to blue. She willed herself to calm the flush of fury rising inside. Something flashed in those eyes of honey and flames before he stepped closer to her table.
Until they were but a few inches from each other.
She didn’t deign stand up.
“Archeron.”
“Cassian.”
The tone in their voice and the stillness of their bodies radiated across the whole place, customers now silent as they stared at the two captains with curiosity mixed with apprehension. His crew had their hands on something ominous on their hips, prompting hers to stand facing them in a similar position.
“Came back from your trip with a little something?” He asked.
She took a sip of her beer before smirking in mockery. “Looks like I’m not the only one. You’re sporting quite a few new additions on your person. Rough night?”
Now that he was close enough, she could see the cuts and bruises splattered on his skin, the neckline of his shirt so deep it revealed his broad chest.
“Not anymore now that I’ve seen your face.” He said with a cocky smirk, eyes shining with challenge.
She clenched her teeth together, but let the sarcastic flirty remark pass. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattle.“Failed to steal from another pirate?”
“Failed? You should know better. After all, you’re familiar with our ways, aren’t you?”
“And have you forgotten ours? Your ship certainly hasn’t.”
Her words seemed to switch his amusement to poorly concealed anger. If the Greedy Pearl was known for their mischief and chaos, the Deathbringer was infamous for their wrath and vengeance. Few ever tried to cross them, which unfortunately did include the idiot with bruises and his equally dumb crew.
Their animated dislike of each other started a year ago when she first made captain of the Deathbringer. He had tried to steal from her, using the cover of the night to swiftly get on her ship. This resulted in her anger-fuelled revenge on his ship, which was barely standing on waters after she was done with him.
Nobody steals from Nesta Archeron. She made sure that every damn pirate knew that.
“Be careful, Archeron. Bad things happen to those who can’t keep their tongue.” He muttered, his voice low.
Nesta merely assessed him, locked eyes, and proceeded to ignore him.
His eyes went feral.
He turned to join his crew before locking eyes with her sister. “Charming sisters you’ve got.”
Feyre, regardless of her illness, moved in front of Elain, shielding her with her body. Her gaze hardened under his. “Fuck off, prick.”
Her insult made him grin. “And they have some bite. You’d do well to make sure nothing happens to them.”
His remark on her sisters and the thinly veiled threat caused her to see red. She quickly stood up and pointed a gun to his head. “Try one thing to them and your head explode.”
Quick movements and sounds followed. One of his crew had drawn his gun pointed at her, the man’s face promising nothing but harm. On his temple was another gun pressed, held by none other than Emerie who threatened in frigid calm, “Don’t even fucking dare.”
She barely noticed them, her gaze set firm on the pirate in front of her who eyed her gun almost in delight, a darn smirk plastered on his face. Stupid, arrogant fool.
“Quick to draw your weapons out, Archeron. I have no desire to harm you or your sisters.” He assured.
His voice and tone did little to calm the thoughts running wild. Images flashed in her mind. Door opened, blood on the walls, chilled silence—
She willed her racing heart to calm. He may be a cocky asshole, but she knew he didn’t target innocent civilians. Staring into his eyes, she barely noticed the pointed look of confusion and slight concern he gave her as she regulated her breathing.
“Now that’s quite enough.” Orlaìth’s bouncing voice cut through the thick tension. She quickly jumped out of her head, eying the small plumb woman standing in between them as if no guns were in sight. “This is a public tavern and I have customers to serve. I can’t have you runnin’ them away with your silly rivalry. Either sit on your asses and enjoy your meals or get the hell out of here.”
Guns going back in their original place, they all stood in silence for a few heartbeats before moving, Cassian and his crew walking to an empty table not far from where they were seating.
“Are you alright?” Emerie asked, sliding another glass of beer to her.
She nodded, feeling Elain’s hand on her arm in an attempt to provide comfort. “He won’t try anything. I know him.”
“I’ll ask some of our own to guard the cottage, just in case. He would probably not do anything, but his crew might.”
She thanked her before taking another sip of her beer.
The ambience soon came back in the tavern. The lights of dusk had faded to the darkness of night. The lanterns glowed brighter, the warmth of bodies dancing, drinking and kissing provided an odd comfort to her. Feyre and Elain couldn’t look more alienated, which prompted a laugh out of her. It quickly died out when she noticed her youngest sister breathing heavily, sweat dripping from her forehead. She felt panic surging inside her when she touched her forehead.
It was burning.
“Feyre? Is it getting worse?”
“I feel dizzy.” She admitted.
“It’s certainly more than mere dizziness. You look pale. Want to go back home?” She asked.
Elain eyed a couple messily making out just a few couple inches from her in poorly concealed shock before nodding. “Please. I can’t stand to stay here any longer.”
Feyre nodded as well. “I think I’ll get better once I eat some of Elain’s potato stew.”
She helped her stand up, sharing a few words to Emerie about where she was going and to make sure everything’s safe before walking towards the exit. Dancing customers bumped into them as they walked and she huffed in annoyance, her fingers itching to shove them aside. As she passed the Greedy Pearl’s crew, she heard words that made her blood chill.
“We’ll go to the Isla de Cristales in two days. We will finally get our hands on it.”
No. No, that can’t be.
“What?” She couldn’t help but turn, eyes wide.
Her eyes beheld Cassian, who wore an expression of curiosity gleaming as he assessed her, a cold beer in his hand. A small smirk grew on his face. “The Isla de Cristales. We’re going to find it.”
Hot. Cold. Breathless. She felt all kind of sensations running through her veins. She swallowed thickly, keeping her composure as best as she could.
“The island is a myth.”
“Rumors talk that it’s real. And an enchanteress proved it to me. I even have a way to it.”
She extended her hand, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.
Cassian scoffed. “As if I’ll ever hand it to you. I’m not an idiot.”
“You are an idiot, easily believing a charlatan. You’re running to your death. The island doesn’t exist.”
She hoped her words would dissuade him, make him give up on this quest.
She was the only one going there.
Her words did nothing but ignite his curiosity brighter, much to her disappointment.
“Yet it caught your attention. Why? Want the treasure for yourself? What do you know about it?”
She hadn’t noticed how close they were until she felt his breath in her skin. He had apparently moved from his seat during their conversation. She cursed herself. This lack of vigilance could be deadly.
She took a deep breath. “No.”
He grinned again, his eyes lowering to her lips. He lifted a finger and touched the corner of her lips. “Liar.”
She wanted to feel indignation, but only a slow burning heat moved in her chest to her stomach. Flushed, she pushed him away, a hand on his ridiculously warm chest. “Get away from me.”
He dipped his head in mockery. “For sure, milady.”
She swiftly turned, joining her sisters who were waiting for her at the threshold with a look of concern. She shook her head, muttering a few words of comfort before they headed out in the dark to their cottage house.
No way in hell is he getting there. She will make sure to get to the island first, whatever else be damned. Even if she had to resort to dirty tricks, she won’t let anyone get their hands on the hidden treasure. He won’t win.
The Eye was hers.
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talkfantasytome · 2 years
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Autumn Leaves
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Nesta watches leaves from her favorite spot in the cabin as she and Cassian settle in for their weekend away.
Warnings: None | Word Count: 713 | Nessian Masterlist
The Cabin Masterlist | Read on AO3
a/n: I wrote three drabbles in a notebook while I was concussed. Idk if I'll write more in this AU, or when, after those first three. But it was a nice little escape, and a way to not just be bored and twiddling my thumbs while I was supposed to avoid "stimulating my brain".
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The forest was on fire.
Not in a dangerous, smoking, terrifying way. It was a calming, comforting fire. The kind that only appeared in the height of autumn, before death extinguished it with the cold of winter.
Treetops blazed in hues of crimson, mustard, and amber. They surrounded Nesta on all visible sides, alternating chaotically. No pattern or symmetry could be seen, yet it was perfect.
Green was a foreign concept here, in the valley below the mountains. Nesta knew that, above the cabin, evergreens flourished, leading you up to the mountain's very peak. But below them, it was all fire.
She held her mug of warm cider in both hands, close to her chest. It heated her skin as much as a sip did her organs. Necessary on a day like today, a nip in the air that followed them inside. She inhaled the steam, savoring the sweet scent of apples and cinnamon.
It was a treat from their favorite orchard. Always their first stop when they came up to the cabin. An hour of apple picking to stock up for the weekend, and then they'd add a half-gallon of spiced cider and a case of apple cider donuts to round out the purchase. Calories didn't count in the cabin.
That's what Nesta told Cassian, that first time she added donuts to their little cart. He gave her a toothy grin and agreed wholeheartedly. The next year he even surprised her with a sign, painted by her artist-sister, with the saying on it. The sign now hung above the entrance to the cabin's kitchen.
Taking a sip, she let the warmth of the drink flow through her as she continued to stare out the window. In the light of the afternoon, the view was so clear through the glass she could barely make out her own reflection. She couldn't see the oversized, burnt sienna sweater she was wearing, or the mahogany and ginger flannel blanket her legs were curled under. It was just trees and leaves as far as the eye could see.
It was her favorite spot in the house. The large window jutted out a bit, leaving enough room for a cushioned bench seat. She'd added some throw pillows for aesthetic and comfort when Cassian started bringing her up here, which she now leaned on, propped up against the wall.
It maybe her favorite spot in the whole world. It was impossible for the serenity of the trees to not take her over when she sat there. All of her worries and anxieties, her stresses and disappointments just faded away when she was there. Whether by some magic in the cabin or a natural effect of nature, Nesta was at peace. And she always savored the feeling.
"Got it!"
Her husband's voice flowed through the air, followed by the soft crackling of a flame recently born.
"Give it a few minutes and we'll have quite the roaring fire," he added, walking backwards toward her. His eyes remained on the fireplace, as if even a blink could destroy his work.
Nesta sighed softly, "It will be perfect."
Finally turning, Cassian beamed at her. He closed the gap between them and then lifted Nesta slightly, moving her so he could slide into the seat behind her. Once he was situated, she leaned back again, this time against his chest. Nesta adjusted the blanket to cover the legs that were now stretched across the seat on either side of her.
"It always is, with you here," he breathed. Cassian pressed a gentle kiss to her head before grabbing his own mug from the end table by them. "How are the leaves this year?"
Nesta's gaze followed a particularly bright red leaf as it fluttered to the ground. "Wonderful." She rested her head against his shoulder. "Even better now that you've joined me."
He was the true magic of the cabin. And not just because it was his long before they'd ever met.
Cassian smiled against her temple as his free arm wrapped around her waist, pulling Nesta closer to him.
No. The magic was Cassian himself - his strength, his confidence, his unfailing optimism - that brought peace to Nesta's life. It was his very essence in the cabin that enveloped her with it here.
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@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @lady-winter-sunrise @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nesquik-arccheron @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @clemidansleschoux @meher-sumedha @labetenoir @vinylcryes @shinya-hiiragi @starryblueskies7 @a-court-of-milkandhoney @pintas3107 @embersofwildfire @superspiritfestival @aks18 @thewayshedreamed @lunabean @xstarlightsupremex @mis-lil-red
Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list! 😄
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shadowisles-writes · 2 years
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The College Collection
Hello beautiful people! Since late August/September mark the start of school for many people I’ve decided to write a bunch of little fics for our favorite acotar couples <3 they will, of course, all be in a college setting!
Pick a prompt below and pair it with an acotar couple in my inbox and I’ll write it! I’ll be crossing out prompts as they arrive in my inbox so that I don’t get asked the same one several times. You can also send your own prompt if you’d like. Please add any specific details you want when sending a prompt. Feel free to request smut in your fic and I’ll try to add that in.
I mainly write for Elucien, Gwynriel, Nessian and Feysand, but if you have another ship in mind you can always just ask me and I’ll let you know if I’ll do it <3
You can find the masterlist for the project here.
Prompts are from pinterest!
My roommate has someone over can I please sleep on your floor
It’s raining and I’m holding the final version of my thesis so we’re stuck under this disaffected bus stop
I have to photograph someone for an art project please be my model
I buy too many cookies from the place you work at but don’t judge me I need them to function
It’s 3am in the library a week before finals and we’re both clinging to whatever is left of our sanity
Group project
You live in the building across from mine and I see you change through your window every day
Neither of us own the expensive textbook and the only copy in the library can’t leave the building
You keep reserving the best study room with all the big windows and I’m sick of it
We’re studying and people are clearly getting a little too close in the stacks and we’re sharing embarrassed looks
We’re donating blood in this tiny van at the same time to skip class
You decked me in the head playing frisbee
Wait, I have a competent lab partner?
You’re baking in the communal kitchen at 3am and I’m angry but very hungry
This has been my seat all semester why are you in it now?
We’re both very uncomfortable at this party
My friend dragged me to this party and my ex is here quick make out with me
We go to the gym at the same time and compete on the treadmill
Sorry my roommate puked on your shoes
You’re the student working at the IT center and my computer crashed
My shower isn’t working can I use yours?
The semester is almost over and there’s a bunch of money still on my cafeteria account, do you want anything?
You live above me and if you don’t stop throwing parties every sunday night I’m going to kill you
We both work late shifts on fridays and you always give me a ride home so that I don’t walk alone in the dark
You’re the only one in the class responding to my desperate message about needing the notes
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thewayshedreamed · 2 years
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A Symphony
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a/n: Happy Nessian Week! This is for Day 1′s prompt (and clearly I’m very late), but I’m really excited to share this with y’all!
This is a follow-up, set 200 years post-mating from my fic Death Dance. I’ve wanted to write this for a long time, and @nessianweek​ 2022 inspired me to finally write it and share it with y’all! (I also included a few details to make it a bit more canon compliant since I wrote the original 2 parts before acosf was released— and since the prompt calls for ‘what happened after’, this can be read as a stand-alone one-shot set 200 yrs post-acosf).
I know I wrote Death Dance forever ago, but it holds such a special place in my heart as one of the first fics I ever shared. I’ll include the links here in case you want a refresher or would like to read it! 
>> Death Dance | Death Dance, Part 2 | ao3
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"...that’s what battle is. A symphony.” — ACOWAR
Cassian loved watching the sunrise atop the House of Wind. He often retreated to the roof earliest to start his warm-ups and prepare for training. He had a solid routine of assessing the weapons, setting any broken ones aside for repair, and making sure adequate water was on hand. The fewer interruptions to their sessions, the better.
His blade sang as he pulled it from the rack nearby. It wasn’t the sword he opted to use in battle, nor was it the finest piece of steel he owned, but he favored it in training nonetheless. The weight was perfect, and his hand had formed the leather around the hilt to fit perfectly after years of use.
Perhaps superstition played a part in it, too. Anytime he deviated from it, he made multiple errors. He decided it was the fault of the blade rather than the warrior having an off-day.
Footsteps sounded nearby, and his eyes landed on his favorite opponent. She had come so far over the years in her technique, and she rivaled him in focus and determination. There had never been a challenge she didn’t rise to meet.
Her cool blue eyes, bleary due to the early hour, assessed him as usual. Cassian huffed a laugh at her serious expression and nodded to an open area nearby.
“Go ahead and get warmed up. I’m ready when you are,” he goaded. That knowing glint shined in her eyes, and it was so familiar that his chest tightened.
“Already did.” Her voice was even, almost bored. Not that it bothered him, considering it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. “I did some stairs inside the House before I came up. I’m waiting on you.”
Her smile was as sharp as the blade she selected from the rack. Cassian eased his feet apart and braced himself for when the session would start, but she strolled over to another table before meeting him in the ring. Her delicate hand hovered over each dagger until she decided on which two to tuck into her leathers.
“Doesn’t hurt to have back-up,” she stated, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
“No, it doesn’t. I’ve taught you well.”
“You could say that.” Her smile turned feral, her eyes flashing a brighter blue as she lunged for Cassian.
Deflecting her blade was child’s play, but she hadn’t truly expected to surprise him. Not yet, anyway. Cassian knew her to be more calculated— and far less transparent— than one rush attack. The Illyrian steel clanged loudly upon contact and whistled through the air at Cassian’s counter attack. Her block caught him off-guard a little in both speed and technique, and he didn’t fight the warm pride flooding his chest.
They danced that way, a nearly choreographed push and pull of steel and delicate footwork. Her breaths sounded through the training ring first, but he didn’t dare comment on how she lost her rhythm moments prior. The only thing that would produce was an additional waste of breath in telling him to mind his own business. Best to cut out the middle step.
Cassian disarmed her artfully in a similar way he’d succeeded in the past. He made a mental note to run through the maneuver during their debrief so that she wasn’t vulnerable to it in actual combat. With a swiftness characteristic of the High Fae, she had a dagger in each hand and went immediately on the offensive. The determination made him smile, but her responding scowl let him know that she likely took it as a taunt.
He schooled his features as he’d trained to do his entire life, eliminating any tells and masking any weaknesses in his form. Sometimes, an opponent’s face was their weakest asset. They told a multitude of stories if one knew where to look.
Cassian defended the attack successfully and was vaguely aware of another presence walking toward the edge of the ring. It wasn’t uncommon for the Valkyries to support one another during drills, especially with how they coordinated their attacks, but this lesson was private. He couldn’t afford the lapse in focus to bark an order along that vein.
“Remember your breath,” she prompted.
Cassian’s eyes slid over of their own volition, nearly allowing one of the daggers to drag along the skin of his bicep. He dodged it in the half-second before contact, but it was too close for comfort. He chose to ignore the unwelcome coaching from the sidelines in favor of his sparring partner who was quite content to use any error in his judgment to her advantage.
He should have expected as much. It was what he taught her to do.
“He has too much access to your blindside.”
A growl erupted from Cassian’s chest. “Stop coaching her. It won’t serve her in the long-run.”
He spun away and recalibrated, using his wings to lift and propel him forward. His sword came down and met both daggers, crossed to hold his blade at bay.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she blinked it away. Cassian noticed how her chest heaved, the way her jaw clenched. She was losing steam and quickly. Hundreds of drills and sparring sessions, and she still didn’t know when to call it.
“It’s over,” he murmured, his tone final but not unkind. The reality was that he was only using half of his force, so even if she aimed to dig her heels in to defend herself, it would only take his full might to compromise her form.
“You don’t know that,” she gritted out, pushing against him with her remaining strength.
Cassian pushed harder against her, and a frustrated snarl sounded between them. Her nostrils flared in her desperation for breath, but the way her arms shook was the true sign of her exhaustion.
“Listen to me,” he instructed, firmer that time. “It’s over. Don’t let your pride get you killed.”
With a roar, she threw her weight forward in an attempt to throw Cassian off-balance. He held his sword steady with one arm and used his free hand to flex against her forearm and stripped her of the dagger. In a blink, he discarded his sword on the ground and spun her around, using the remaining dagger at her throat to pin her against his chest.
To her credit, she held her head high. “Was that really necessary?”
Cassian tossed the dagger aside and released her. She whirled around, fire in her eyes and what he knew was a loaded temper on her tongue. That was fine. He had a temper of his own.
“You tell me,” he argued, his voice louder than before. “I told you it was over, and you pushed anyway. That’s how you die.”
“So, you want me to give up?!” Her voice met and exceeded his own, growing more shrill by the second.
“No! I want you to know your limits and identify them before you get there. I want you to stop playing the damned hero and retreat when you should. Listen to me for once, for fuck’s sake. I want you to do what you need to survive!”
When the silence fell, Cassian realized how loud he’d been. Her lip quivered, and his temper evaporated as quickly as it had come. His heart crumbled in his chest watching her take steps away from him.
“I’ll be back before lunch,” she said, her voice trembling. “Nice talk.”
With two beats of her beautiful, umber wings, she was airborne. Cassian squeezed his eyes shut to gather himself and decided it was better to face the music sooner rather than later. He turned toward Nesta, still planted at the edge of the ring and her silver eyes swirling with contempt.
Fuck.
He heaved a breath and finished it with a firm warning. “Nes, don’t.”
Nesta stepped forward, her glare still fixed on his face. “Why did you have to push her so hard?”
“I didn’t push her any harder than I pushed you or any of the other Valkyries. She’s talented, Nesta, but she’s proud as hell.”
His wife blinked at him, and he didn’t have to be daemati to know her thoughts roared with the word hypocrite. Perhaps those were his own thoughts screaming at him.
“I know, I know,” he continued. “I’ll talk to her once she cools off.”
A murderous laugh sounded from Nesta, and goose flesh erupted over Cassian’s spine. He would never admit it, though. “Oh, no you won’t. You fucked up. You’re going to find her and talk to her right now.”
His brows came together in irritation. “Cynane gets her temper honestly— from both sides, might I add.” Nesta had the good sense to look a little sheepish. “She needs time.”
She crossed her arms, unsatisfied with his reasons. “Maybe so, but we have no idea where she’s headed. For all we know, she’ll get plenty of time with how long it will take you to find her.” It was Nesta’s turn to escalate and allow her temper to run free, he guessed. Her voice was venom made sound. “You will get your ass in the air. You will find our daughter, and you will bring her home.”
It was a shame how beautiful Nesta was when she was at her most angry. The only thing to keep Cassian’s wits about him was the layer of desperation beneath her anger, the way he knew her heart couldn’t rest without knowing Cynane was safe. It didn’t matter that she was approaching her 21st birthday in the coming months. She was forever their baby in Nesta’s eyes— and Cassian’s, if he was being fair.
He stepped forward and took Nesta’s hand, raising it to his lips. He let them linger against her skin and said, “Yes, ma’am.”
A smile threatened Nesta’s composure, but she schooled it quickly enough that Cassian didn’t feel right calling her on it. “I’m serious, you brute.”
“I know,” he murmured.
Cassian pressed his lips to her forehead and brought her hand to his chest. Nesta traced the middle siphon mindlessly.
“You were hard on her today. I know you’re used to pushing her, but she’s been having a rough few days.”
He tensed, all of his instincts roaring to life. “What happened?”
“Cassian,” Nesta warned, but her tone was softer than usual. “She’s okay. She and Nyx are fighting, and it’s getting to her.”
“Why didn’t she tell me?” He couldn’t help the incredulity in his question. Cynane talked to him about everything.
“She was worried you would overreact.” Alright, Nesta had a point. “They’ll work through it like they always do. They’re young and hard-headed, but they’re best friends. She didn’t want it to cause issues between you and Rhysand.”
He hummed in response, and his wings grew more restless by the second. Nesta was right in that it may take time to find her, and with the threats they knew to exist in their world, his brain insisted on painting worst case scenarios.
“I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he whispered, pulling Nesta against him. “I just— I worry she’ll push herself beyond her means for the greater good, and I couldn’t live with myself if I lost her.”
Nesta was quiet for a moment, then, “Who does that sound like to you?”
The wind circled them, but the chill was negligible in comparison to the realization Nesta prompted.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “This is my fault on so many levels.”
Nesta’s laugh kept him from spiraling completely. “You two are cut from the same cloth, Cassian. She looks up to you, but it’s confusing to her when you chastise her for emulating you.”
“Yeah.” His voice was all grit, his emotions like a hand around his throat. “I’ll fix this.”
“Bring our girl home.”
Cassian flew for about an hour before he noticed his daughter’s silhouette at the edge of a cliff. His chest squeezed at realizing she sought comfort in that location. Cassian had taught her to fly there, and they frequently used it as a spot to rest when they flew laps around Velaris together. The fact that she was so angry, yet yearned for a closeness to him nearly brought tears to his eyes.
He landed nearby but far enough away to avoid startling her. Her sniffles echoed along the wind, and it took every ounce of his will power to avoid crushing her to his chest. It didn’t matter that she was 6 feet tall with wings as mighty as some of the strongest Illyrian warriors. She was his Cynane, the light of his life, and he’d hold her as long as she would let him.
Approaching on silent feet, he eased himself into a seated position next to her and fixed his gaze over the horizon. She wiped at her eyes, and for some reason, it hurt that she was trying to hide her emotions from him.
“Hey,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Come here.”
He expected her to resist, maybe to argue that he shouldn’t baby her anymore. Instead, her head dropped heavily to his shoulder, and her body shook with a sob. His instincts itched to eliminate any threat to her, but he had no clue what to do. Ultimately, he decided to wait it out and let her pour her pain into his lap if that’s what she needed.
When she quieted a bit, he tucked his free hand beneath her chin and lifted it to look at him. Her beautiful blue eyes, identical to Nesta’s, were red-rimmed and swollen. Cassian pressed a long kiss to her forehead and pulled back to look at her again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to cry like that.”
He released her chin and brought his wrist toward his mouth. Using his teeth, he pulled a strip of linen he’d used to wrap his wrists prior to training and offered it to her.
Her nose scrunched. “It’s sweaty.”
He flicked the offending nose and held the linen closer to her. “No, it’s not. It’s from the top.”
Cynane glared at it, no more impressed than before.
“Would you rather have snot freeze to your face on the flight home?” he challenged.
She blinked up at him and snatched the strip of fabric out of his hand. Cassian chuckled at her flare for drama, but she retaliated swiftly by pretending to wipe her nose on his tunic instead.
“Heathen,” he teased, leaning away from her and removing his arm from her shoulders. Her laugh made his breathing a bit easier.
She took a moment to blot at her eyes and wipe her nose, heaving a long breath before she gathered the nerve to talk. The sun turned her dark skin almost golden and reflected off the three amber siphons mounted along her collarbone. Females didn’t usually receive siphons, but almost none of them held the power that his daughter held, either. The scary part was that they still didn’t quite know the breadth of it.
“Talk to me.” It was foreign to ask because she almost always brought her troubles straight to him. Sometimes, she turned to Nesta first depending on the subject, but she had never run from him rather than talk something out. “Your mom said you have some things on your mind.”
A few beats passed in silence. “I shouldn’t have forced that sparring session so much,” she admitted, her voice a quiet rasp. “I think I was trying to work through some stuff, but that’s not the place for it.”
“It’s okay,” he assured her, turning his body to see her face better. “We can work through it now. Together.”
She offered a small, pitiful smile and dropped her head to his shoulder again. Cassian used his free hand to brush some of the dark waves that escaped her braid away from her face. “Nyx is pissing me off.”
A laugh bubbled out of him without warning and encouraged one from Cynane, too. It felt good to laugh in light of all the tension. “Yeah? What’s he doing?”
“He doesn’t listen to me!” she exclaimed. “Ever— for anything. He doesn’t listen to me in training, he doesn’t listen to me in social situations. He doesn’t even listen to me about what suit he should wear, and half the time, he’s the one asking in the first place.”
Much like his father, then. “He’s young, proud. I’m—“
“Dad, he’s 200 years old.” The exasperation in her voice made him smile. He tucked his cheek against her head.
“Yeah, well,” he trailed off. “It took his father longer than that to listen to me, and that’s still not a guarantee.”
Cynane chuckled, and the sound was so reminiscent of Nesta that his heart inflated beyond the available space of his ribcage. “Give him time. He’s had a microscope on him since birth, and some lessons, he’ll have to learn on his own.”
“Maybe,” she sighed. “When you put it that way, it makes me feel like my expectations are off. If Nyx is young, what does that make me?”
“My baby, for one,” he said through a smirk and felt her wing flick against his own with a quiet slap. She hated when Cassian made a production over her. “You have the same old soul that your mother does, so you tend to put more pressure on your shoulders than is yours to bear.”
The echo of Nesta’s earlier words ricocheted through his brain. He knew Cynane’s and his likeness. It was nearly impossible to be around the two of them and not see it. The way she entered any room with a casual confidence, the same sideways smile. How she lifted a brow when challenged or skeptical of someone’s motives.
So much of Cassian presented in Cynane, and as much as it warmed his heart to see it, he knew the sense and burden of responsibility were of him, too.
Her voice was quiet. “Sometimes it makes me wonder why I do all this, you know? All the training, trying to prove myself a worthwhile ally to Nyx.”
“It’s your sense of purpose,” he offered. “And for what it’s worth, you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. You and Nyx are best friends, and his behavior has more to do with him than it does with you, I’m sure of it.”
Cynane sniffed, and Cassian’s instincts roared to life in a way that still managed to startle him. She had cried hundreds of times in her short life, but his hackles always rose within milliseconds, anyway.
“It just— it feels like there’s no place for me right now, or maybe if there is a place for me, I don’t live up to it.”
Cassian squeezed his eyes shut and forced his emotions to a more placid level. The pain in her voice was unmistakable, and nothing hurt worse than her pain. Nesta’s pain. He’d take an ash arrow to the chest ten times over.
“That’s not possible,” Cassian insisted, and he meant it.
Cynane was years ahead of many of her Male counterparts in training, and she had been born with the mind of a strategist. He knew it in her earliest years of life when she managed to delay bedtime for months before he and Nesta caught on that it was no accident.
She heaved a breath. “Well, even Nyx doesn’t take me seriously if he can’t be bothered to consider my opinion. My mother literally wields death, for the Cauldron’s sake. Half the Illyrians I train with either hate that I have siphons or think they’re all for show.”
Cassian suppressed a growl, quite skillfully in his opinion, and focused on the lilt of her voice as she continued. “The Males look at me like I’m a joke if I lose to them in training, but if I win, their ego is bruised. That, and they make it a point to talk about how I should be winning more often ‘considering who my dad is.’ No matter what, I’m too much, or I’m not enough.”
If his chest had tightened before, it was nothing in comparison to how he felt hearing her words. Cassian had made it his life’s mission to ensure others found him worthy of his rank, that he was more than some bastard that they left in a field to die. He had pushed himself to every limit, willingly entered the thick of battle to prove himself a worthy leader. In hindsight, the naysayers hadn’t been eradicated by his actions, anyway. Now, that legacy he fought so hard to establish caused more issue for his daughter than it helped.
No one had prepared him for such a particular phase in parenthood.
“And then today, when I pushed our training session, all I did was make things worse. You knew I couldn’t win, and I should have listened to you when you tried to call it. Losing to you— yet again— proved them all right, you know?”
Cassian nudged her cheek away from his shoulder and folded one of his legs in to face her. “No, I don’t know. You’re way too hard on yourself. You haven’t even made your 21st year.”
Cynane shrugged and opened her mouth to respond, but Cassian silenced her with a lifted hand.
“I didn’t call our session because I don’t think you’re capable. If that was the case, I would go easy on you.” She growled at the implication. He suppressed a smile in order to carry on. “I give you my all in training because you’re further along than even I was at your age, and I know there will come a day when you best me. When that happens, it will be because you’ve surpassed me, not because I’ve favored you.”
Her eyes glassed over, and Cassian made a mental note to tell Nesta she had to handle the next tearful conversation with their daughter. He’d met his quota, and his heart couldn’t take much more.
“Okay,” she rasped, nodding her head as if to convince herself that he told the truth. Then, with a mischievous smile, she added, “Better than you, huh?”
Cassian laughed, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “I should have never told you that.”
“I’m glad you did.”
Her piercing blue eyes lifted to meet his own. They were creased slightly at each corner, and that small hint of a smile eased some of the tension from his shoulders. Cassian stood from the ground and offered his hand to the pride of his life.
“Come on.” he ordered, stretching his scarred wings. “I’ll race you back.”
Cynane quirked a brow. The way her wings flitted behind her told him she was going to accept his challenge before she said a word.
“You sure you want to do that?”
Cassian bit his cheek at the clear taunt. Cynane was fast, and it was possible she could very well beat him in a short burst. The flight home was longer though, and Cassian wasn’t above using a shortcut or two that he knew from his many laps around Velaris over the years.
He smiled at her, broad and unrestrained. “Of course, Little Wing,” he drawled, allowing himself an internal celebration when she scowled at the nickname she’d rejected for some time. “Unless you’re not up for it.”
He made two steps toward the cliff until, “You know,” she said, the drip of her voice identical to his own. “I don’t know why you still call me that. Mine outgrew yours years ago.”
Cassian rounded on her and grabbed her in a loose headlock. She shoved him away with a laugh and flexed her wings broadly behind her, tilting her head to assess the wind. He turned away and made his way toward the cliff once more.
“The longer it takes me to get you back, the more likely your mother is to kill me.” He beat his wings, his toes poised at the very edge of the rock. Before he could take off, Cynane’s voice froze him in place.
“I don’t think she could.”
Cassian preened internally, yet he allowed a glance over his shoulder and a smirk to tug at the corner of his mouth. His daughter had faith in him, and that was all well and good, but he wondered how Nesta would respond.
In the spirit of self-preservation, he said, “Appreciate it, kid, but it’s no contest.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sure she could.”
Cassian bared his teeth in a half-hearted snarl. From revered to humbled in no time flat with Cynane, he thought.
“But she won’t,” she murmured, her footsteps approaching from behind. “She loves you too much.”
His throat tightened, and as casually as possible, he turned toward the horizon in his own assessment of the wind. Cynane’s footsteps picked up speed and intensity, and she playfully knocked Cassian’s shoulder with hers as she launched herself over the cliff’s edge.
He laughed freely, watching her barrel roll through the sky and circle back to hover a few feet in front of him. The change in tone and the mirth etched into her features were welcome shifts from the heavier atmosphere of before. Cynane lowered her brows in dry challenge.
“Try to keep up,” she taunted.
Cassian smiled and turned around, throwing himself backward into free fall before his wings flared wide and caught the wind. He flexed them a few times to warm them up and made his way toward his daughter’s waiting form above.
“I’ll be sure to let your mom know you’re on your way,” he replied, angling into a sharp turn in the House’s general direction.
An incredulous shout echoed through the valley.
Served her right, he thought.
Apparently, Cassian had forgotten that he’d shown Cynane many of the shortcuts he knew through their particular mountain range. They emerged on either side of the rooftop, her feet touching down mere seconds before his own.
His chest heaved with the effort of catching his breath. His 700-plus years were showing, and he wasn’t as good at hiding it as he would have liked. When he glanced toward Cynane, he realized he wasn’t the only one who had pushed beyond their limits if her own panting was any indication.
A book snapped shut nearby, and they whirled around to see Nesta walking toward them. She’d lowered herself to a training mat, her back against the wall, while she waited for them to return. Her face was neutral enough, and Cassian took it as a good sign that she poured each of them a glass of water from the pitcher nearby.
“I assume the two of you worked through things,” she said, her tone apprehensive.
Cassian leaned his elbow heavily on Cynane’s shoulder, ignoring her growl of irritation. “Never been better, really.”
He turned a smile toward Cynane, but the look in her eye was trouble. He’d know it a mile away considering it usually took residence on his own face.
“Yeah,” she agreed, pausing to take a long pull of water. “Dad explained that the only reason he pushed me so much was because you thought he was babying me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and offered an amused grin toward her mother. “But I understand that you want what’s best for me, so no hard feelings.”
Nesta’s eyes were more silver than blue when they snapped in Cassian’s direction. He muttered a low curse at his daughter’s betrayal and dropped his arm from her shoulder.
“Your kid is full of shit,” he joked, and Cynane’s features lifted into a broad smile. “But we did talk, and we’re okay, Nes. Promise.”
Her face softened, and she moved forward to wrap her arms tightly around Cynane’s waist. She returned the hug immediately and dipped her head to place a kiss to her mother’s temple.
“I know you needed space, but don’t leave it so open-ended when you’re upset,” Nesta asked, her voice even, yet soft. “We’ll always give you what you need, just let us know where we can find you if something were to happen.”
“Okay, fair enough.”
They released each other, and the look of exhaustion on Nesta’s face was too much for Cassian to bear after such a heavy morning. He tugged her against his chest, earning a deep sigh from Cynane.
“That’s my cue,” she began, walking toward the door. “I’ll make us some lunch since I worried you.”
“The House can provide lunch if you want to rest a little, maybe take some time to yourself,” Nesta offered.
“Nah, it’s okay. I’m in the mood for Dad’s Illyrian stew. I’m going to whip some of that up.”
“Remember,” Cassian called to her retreating form, “don’t cook it too fast or—”
“The vegetables will be soggy, and the meat will be tough,” Cynane finished. She looked over her shoulder to make eye contact with Cassian over Nesta’s head. “I’ve got it.”
He heard the double meeting, and his pride in his daughter’s resilience threatened to devour him whole.
“I know.”
With a small smile, she disappeared inside. He and Nesta clung to one another for a few seconds of contented silence until it was time to give credit where it was due.
“You were right to make me go after her,” he admitted, pulling back to look into her face. “She needed to talk it out.”
Nesta blinked up at him and traced his jaw with her fingers, lifting onto her tip toes to press a kiss to his lips. “She needed her dad.”
Cassian’s throat bobbed. When his eyes fluttered open, Nesta’s raw admiration hit him square in the chest, just below the spot where she’d traced his siphon earlier on. “Yeah, I think she did.”
He kissed her again, firmer that time but nothing more than seeking comfort in their intimacy. Everything settled, down to the ever-present buzz beneath his skin, with Nesta’s strong and steady presence.
Pulling away, he asked, “Unrelated, but could you find out who Cynane has been sparring with these last couple of weeks?”
Her glare was a clearer warning than anything she could have said. “Unrelated, sure.”
“Only slightly,” he lied, not bothering to cover it well, either. “She mentioned some struggle so I thought maybe I could give her some pointers for next time.”
“Or, you know, maybe select them at random for a training demonstration?”
Cassian laughed, kissing her again. “If you think it’s a good idea, sure.”
She scowled up at him. “You know I don’t. Cynane would kill you.”
He pulled the late morning air into his lungs and let it out in one long whoosh. “Yeah,” he admitted, albeit begrudgingly. “I’ll leave it.”
Nesta released him, and he missed her warmth immediately. Sliding her hand into his, their calluses from years of training skimming over the other’s, he felt a sense of belonging he would never take for granted as long as the Mother allowed him time in their universe. He tugged on her hand to spin her around and wrapped his arm tightly around her waist. Nesta gripped his shoulders for stability and pressed tightly to his chest.
“I love you,” he murmured against the skin of her neck, taking delight in how she shivered against him.
“Love you more.”
——————————————————————————
Shout-out to @bookstantrash for letting me use Cynane (kee-nah-nay) as their daughter's name in this fic. She wrote me a beautiful one-shot (Bilingual Family) as a Secret Santa gift last year, and I absolutely loved it. It seemed fitting to use the name here!
Here's a copy of the name's origin, listed on her post— "Cynane was the daughter of the Illyrian Princess Audata and King Philip II of Macedon, making her the half-sister of Alexander the Great. Following the Illyrian tradition of women as warriors, her mother raised her in the martial arts, also teaching her how to hunt, track, ride, and fight better than any men. She was also raised with the belief that she was equal of any man. Before she was 20yo, Cynane was well known for these skills and became famous for her courage and brilliance in battle."
Thanks again to my incredibly sweet friend for letting me use it! Love you, Babi ❤️ 
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surielstea · 3 days
Text
Words on Paper
Based on this request.
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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
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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.
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