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julemmaes · 11 months

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Always

Some tooth rotting Nessian fluff for you my loves since we're deep in the exam session and I'm a serial procrastinator (and also depressed as fuck apparently) and I can't find any Shatter Me fics that satisfy my need for fluff rn

Set in the The Seven of Us AU (masterlist)

Word count: 1,393

Nesta was perfectly aware of the fact that she was starring. She knew her husband would give her shit if he noticed her ogling him as he started his evening work out, but she really couldn't care less about it.

She had closed her book almost twenty minutes ago as he'd walked in their living room. Cassian had gone up to her, ran a hand through her hair to tilt her head up and leave a soft, loving kiss on her forehead.

She'd closed her eyes, hoping for more, but she'd been left wanting, her neck bent back as she faced the ceiling. The warmth of his hand still lingered on her skin.

"I love you," he'd whispered as he'd made his way to their windowless room—the space where they kept all the kids' too-big-to-fit-in-the-room games and Cassian's gym equipment. Nesta hated that room, it was so messy she tried to forget it existed half the time.

And now it was the easiest task for her, to not think of anything at all. Cassian was wearing a white shirt whose sleeves he had ripped off. His tattoos were in full display for her to admire in the golden light of the late afternoon, and his dark, tanned skin shined with sweat. The black ink moving with every push and pull of his arms, his muscles vibrating with the effort to lift the weights. And the occasional grunts and huffs coming from him were just an added little gift, directly from the universe to her.

She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was unapologetically gawk at her sweaty husband as she lay on the couch under her blanket. So that was what she was doing.

He was looking outside through the kitchen window, and a small smile blossomed on his lips as the shrieks and laughters of their kids filled their silent room.

"Cece! That's mi–ne!"

Nesta sighed through her nose and shuffled on the couch to find a more comfortable position, knowing perfectly well she wouldn't lift a finger if shit went down. Nevermind that their four-year-old had just started screaming at the top of her lungs. She knew if was only because Cal had stolen yet another of her toys.

They heard Ezra try to pacify his sister and meddle things between his siblings, and Cassian couldn't help his snort when Celia started screaming at him, too, to leave her puppets alone.

Nesta closed her eyes, basking in her children's sounds, absorbing every word and whine, every giggle and cry. She knew it wouldn't last forever.

They could already see it with Ezra, now only a few weeks away from his thirteenth birthday, his voice had started to become deeper and his laugh more... grown-up. He'd lost his soft giggles. When she'd first noticed, Nesta had almost cried.

And Cal and Nora had just turned eight and five respectively. Andra's second birthday was nine days away—

She shook her head, blinking her tiredness away, willing her mind to slow down and enjoy every bit of it while she had it.

It wasn't until she yawned that Cassian finally looked her way. The moment his eyes were on her curled up figure, they softened and he slowed down his movements. He stopped altogether when she rubbed her eyes with the back on her hand and dropped the weights to the floor.

She offered him a weak smile and his face lit up, his breath hitched, as he took two long strides to her side, crouching down.

Nesta looked him in the eyes, mumbling a silent, "Hi."

Cassian smoothed a hand over her hair again, and then brushed her cheek, cupping her face. His thumb was drawing short lines on her bottom lip now.

"Are you tired, sweetheart?" He asked her, his eyes locked on her mouth.

Nesta nodded, her position not really allowing her much movement. "I had the longest day at work."

"'M sorry, baby," he leaned forward, the tip of his nose brushing hers, "I can always give you a massage later, if you'd like that."

She hummed, pleased even just at the idea. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and kissed the corner of her lips.

"I would love that," Nesta said.

It was Cassian's turn to hum, and when their eyes met, she couldn't resist it anymore and lifted her head just as he closed in on her. They both smiled in the kiss and then Cassian was gone.

Nesta was stunned, still recovering at the quickness with which he'd moved that he was laying on one of the confusing torture machines he trained with.

"Gotta finish the work out first," he cracked his neck, starting a new set as he kept talking. "I'll cook dinner, put the gremlins to bed and then we can chill, watch a movie... take a bath, together."

Nesta looked at him, mirth sparkling in her eyes. Or at least that was what she hoped she was conveying through her exhaustion. He smirked in her direction, winking and opening his mouth to surely make a crude comment on their evening activities.

It surprised her then, when instead of getting a dirty preview of whatever he was gonna do to her, he whispered, so quietly that she barely heard him, "I missed you so much today."

She blinked and mollified, shaking her head.

Hopeless romantic, that husband of hers—

The loud, booming crack of Cal's laughter distracted her from her thoughts and the sound of the backdoor opening piqued her attention enough that she sat up, glancing at their backyard.

Nora came stumbling in the kitchen, tripping on the glass door.

"Watch your step, honey," Cassian said, before she could intervene.

Their daughter's smile was blinding. Happiness radiated from her small body as she jumped towards them. Her hazel eyes were alight with life, her whole head shone with sun rays embedded in her braided hair.

She was their little nugget of sunshine. And Nesta felt the strongest surge of love grow in her chest when she belined for her dad.

She threw herself on Cassian's chest.

"Hey, Nora," he said, wrapping his arms around her tiny tiny body. Nesta plopped down once again, holding a pillow to her chest. "Are you having fun?"

Nora started nodding so ferociously on his chest that her hair spiked everywhere. And then with the most adorable voice she said, "I love you. I always love you."

Cassian didn't hesitate, "I'll always love you, honey."

Their kid rested her cheek on his pec and looked at him, smiled. Cassian blew a strand of her hair that had gone astray off her face, petting it down and trying to braid it back into her complex hairdo.

They looked at each other for such a short time, and still, Nesta couldn't have asked for anything more.

The love shining there, in both her soulmate's eyes and in the eyes of that one fifth of her own soul... it took her breath away. Whenever she realised what she had created. What she had, what was hers and only hers.

She loved her family so much it hurt.

"Come back outside Nona!"

The little girl rose abruptly at her brother's voice, and without a single glance back ran outside, screaming over her shoulder.

"Goodbye daddy, I'm going out to play! Goodbye mommy!"

"Okay, see you honey."

Nesta recovered from the lump in her throat just in time before the door slammed shut and shouted back at her, "Love you, baby!"

Cassian had rose up on his elbows to follow his daughter with his gaze, a silly lost smile plastered on his face, and as soon as she out of sight he fell back down again.

He brought both hands to his face and breathed out a laugh. It sounded like his body needed to get all that unbridled love out somehow and didn't know any better than laugh it out.

Nesta breathed in, chuckling under her breath.

"That was so fucking cute."

Cassian's head snapped in her direction and she was surprised to find his eyes glossy, but still full of hope and love and gratitude. She smiled at him, her whole body softening in front of that picture.

"We made such a bunch of sentimental gremlins," he breathed out.

"That we did."

Heavily inspired by this reel.

TSOU tag list (if you wanna added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@swankii-art-teacher @gabtapia @illyrianshadowhunter @teagoddess99 @fromthelibraryofemilyj @ireallyshouldsleeprn @flora-shadowshine @chikraizyj @sayosdreams @moodymelanist @rowaelinismyotp @bookstantrash @light-it-up-lehabah @mkstrigidae @awesomelena555 @jahelyden @sleeping-and-books @my-fan-side @imagine-me @thewayshedreamed @simpingfornestaarcheron @duskandstarlight @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @the-regal-warrior

#the seven of us #tsou #nessian children #nessian #fluff #nesta archeron #cassian #domestic fluff

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venus-celestial · 4 days

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Happy Nesta week everyone as my iPad is currently still broken I won't be able to draw like I had wanted to

But never fear for I shall write instead and add drawings later

So for the first prompt of @nestaarcheronweek Queen of Queens

enjoy this one-shot of a somewhat dark romance nessian Crescent City/Modern AU

Nesta's breath caught slightly as she looked at herself in the mirror she looked so.. different yet so the same it was truly terrifying.

The dress her mate had given her to wear was well beautiful it was a pitch black that faded into sliver and had red accents on the sleeves neckline and middle.

it was a sweetheart neckline (she found it a little less funny then her mate did) with detached sleeves and the dress went almost All the way to her feet stoping a few inches higher.

Of course her mate hadn't only supplyed the dress for her to wear but the the red gemed jewelry she was currently wearing as well as bright and and glowing as his own gemstones he wore.

She thought the ruby choker was a little much considering everyone would be able to see the tattoo on her back but she didn't complain it was pretty as well.

what she didn't really understand was the lack of head accessory her mate usually would provide a headband a pin or some other accessory for her hair or head.

but currently her head remind barren her hair down tonight at his request she wondered if he had somt planned probably it was in his nature.

Ataraxia sat at the side of the vanity as sharp and ready to be used as ever although she rarely used it her mate had said numerous times that she shouldn't have to dirty her pretty hands.

he said things like that a lot that she deserved to not want for anything to not have to do anything she didn't want to that she should be taken care and worshipped.

And taken care of and worshipped she was her mate made sure of it everyone who worked for him knew who she was and how she was to treated with respect and loyalty just like he was.

he absolutely showered her in gifts Ataraxia having been one of them he had said the sword was made specially for her and her magic and when she had given it it's name he had smiled and kissed her breathless.

Gods above was it easy for him to turn her into a non-functioning mess with just a simple kiss or a few words his habit of calling everything about her whether it be her eyes her hands or even her mind pretty would be the death of her.

but gods she loved it how easily he could turn her into a dazed mess in or out of the bedroom how easily he could make her shatter again and again until she couldn't take anything more.

and how gentle he was as he did whispering praise and kind words as he took care of during and after.

Oh but Nesta didn't forget she had the same affect on him as he did her she could ask anything of him and he would do it even get on his knees and worship her like a goddess anything for her his lady his queen.

The door to the bedroom opened and in he came within seconds he was behind her and burying his face in her neck as he liked to do.

"Hello Sweetheart" He said breath tickling her neck and making her shudder "Cassian" She breathed her voice quiet and and high.

Cassian chuckled lowly and nipped lightly at her neck with his teeth leaving his mark on it and making Nesta moan softly.

Her repeated the action and pulled away from her neck looking at her through the mirror "Look at you my beautiful girl" He said his voice low and dark.

Nesta felt her stomach tighten up as he cupped her cheeks with both of his large calloused palms "You are perfection" He said leaning forward placing a small light kiss on her forehead "So very beautiful" He continued his soft whisper making the tiniest shivers run down Nesta's spine "My Nesta" he whispered voice full of adoration.

Nesta breathed in deep inhaling his scent as she leaned into his touch "Your Nesta" She whispered back.

Cassian smiled and placed a hand under her chin turning her towards him tilting her chin so he can gaze into her eyes "You are mine my queen" he whispered his tone soft and deep.

"Yes" Nesta Breathed "And tonight" Cassian Said "Everyone will know it" "Everyone Will know your mine my mate my lady my queen" he said voice low and dark as he spoke

He leaned forward pressing his lips to hers once before pulling away "Shall we go?" He Asked his voice still low "they'll be expecting us" Nesta nodded and Cassian took her hand in his.

They left their room with Nesta trailing behind her mate as he made his way out of their room and down the stairs to the front room of the house.

As they arrived Nesta saw her parents walking in together with a large group of people who were either their friends or strangers she couldn't tell.

Nesta squeezed Cassian's hand in nervousness and he pulled her to his side "It's alright sweetheart" he said voice gentle and calm as he squeezed her hand.

they made their way over to the giant table in the middle of the room where her sisters and their mates already sat Nesta did a once over and paused when she looked at the head of the table

Rhys and Feyre were sat next to each other as expected as where Elain Azriel and Gywn Amren and Mor sat opposite Rhys and Cassian's chair was empty as expected but

But next to Cassians chair was another chair identical to his and as Nesta scanned the table again she realized the chair that usually sat next to Feyre's and was where Nesta would sit was gone.

Nesta swallowed hard her heart beating against her ribs rapidly as she tried to figure out what was going on.

Cassian wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her close to his side protectively "Are you cold my love?"

"No" Nesta said no at the table seemed to find anything amiss but Nesta brain could not figure out what was happening until Cassian lead her right to chair that was identical to his.

Nesta took a deep breath "Who's sitting here?" She asked quietly trying not to be loud enough to alert anyone near by.

Cassian gave her a look that read 'Really?'

Nesta gave him a pout he wasn't being very nice.

Cassian Chuckled darkly at her expression "You are sweet girl" he said Nesta's eyes widen slightly "W-what" she stammered quietly.

She hadn't heard him correctly or he was just joking or something because no way did he just say the seat was for her but no she hadn't heard him wrong his voice was low and rumbling with affection as he told her this.

"This is your seat my Queen" He said kissing the top of her head "Now sit" he leaned down to whisper in her ear "Or do I need to pick you up and put you in it myself" he said.

Nesta squeaked at the idea of such an event and immediately sat down and folded her hands into her lap as her mate took his seat next to her.

Cassian reached over and took her hand and began rubbing it as he started talking to the others at the table Nesta looked over at Feyre and her sister gave her a warm smile.

Nesta smiled back but didn't move her hand she was too busy listening intently to Cassian telling all of them how proud he was and how perfect she looked.

"Thank you" She whispered looking up at him, he gave her a reassuring nod squeezing her hand.

dinner was brought out and everyone bagen eating about an half an hour later later Cassian stood up and declared her has something to announce.

just then an attendant came around the the table and placed a medium sized box in front of Nesta before bowing and walking away.

Nesta looked around table confused and heart going a mile a minute she caught Feyre's eye who was smiling like the cat that got the canary

she looked at her mate then at the box and back to her mate again she was so confused she felt like brain was going to explode trying to figure it out.

Cassian grinned at her "Open it sweetheart" he said Nesta nodded lightly and obeyed opening the wooden box to reveal what was inside

Nesta swears her heart stops as opens it fully a crown there's a crown in the box sat comfortably atop a plush pillow Nesta feels like she's losing it as Cassian comes over takes the crown out and gently puts it atop her head

"Mine" he all but growls when he's finished putting it on her head and placing his hand over her heart "You belong to me now only me now and always and forever and ever and ever"

He said "you belong to me" "I belong to you" He added "Always and Forever"

Nesta Nodded speechless and suddenly Cassian had his sword in hand and she shivered at his next words "You are my Mate My Wife" "But also My queen my equal in every and any way their is" he said voice dark

"You will reign by my side until we take our last breaths" her continued"No one will question your relation to me or your role" his voice dropped and and Nesta shivered "and if they do" He stopped a second longer "Then they are dead." He finished "Dead like those who dared disrespect you by questioning the right of someone who is meant to be by my side"

With that Cassian took her and and Sat back down as everyone at the table started clapping and cheering and chanting his name along with Nesta as he lifted her hand to his lips pressing them to her knuckles

"Nesta" He whispered his voice deep, hot and passionate "my queen."

he smiled down at her as she blushed and bowed her head "You are so beautiful and amazing"

Cassian held her hand tighter

And Nesta realized right then and there that she belonged to this man and he belonged to her and nobody else.

not even the Gods were allowed to have her and she was perfectly ok with that.

I hope you liked it everyone sorry if there are any errors I'm trusting docs spell checking on this so I hope it's okay

Anyway see you all later today for day two

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #nesta acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #NestaArcheronweek

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snelbz · 1 year

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Better Or Worse {Chapter One}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: We are so excited to share this one with you guys! As you know, angst is sort of our specialty and while this one will be pretty heavy, we’ve tried to sprinkle a good amount of fluff as well. We hope you love it and always, please let us what you think!

Chapter Warning: Language.

Nesta -

“I'm going to bed.”

My fingers come to a pause on my keyboard. I glance up and find Cassian leaning against the door frame of my office.

The clock in the corner of the computer screen tells me it’s 10:46. I know he’s not telling me to try and entice me to join him. No, he’d given up on that weeks ago.

My fingers go back to flying over the plastic keys, clicking as I try to pick back up the stream of consciousness I was working on when Cassian interrupted. “I want to get this draft finalized tonight. I only have a few chapters left. The publishing company will have my ass if it isn’t submitted before tomorrow afternoon.”

Excuse.

That’s all I’m full of anymore. Excuses.

Excuses as to why I’m always at my office downtown late or don’t ever want to go to dinner. Why I’m distant or never try to touch him.

“Can you at least try to make it home by six tomorrow night? Please?”

My gaze leaves the screen and lands on him again. “I’ll try. You know I’ve got deadlines I have to hit.”

He’s as handsome as always, even more so with the shadow of stubble across his jaw. He must not have shaved this morning, if the dusting of hair was any indicator. That wasn’t like him. Shaving was a part of his daily routine, quickly followed by his morning shower. My husband may be brash and blunt, but he’s a man who has and loves his routines.

Routines that often feel like they are smothering me, stifling any spark of spontaneity in my soul.

His arms are crossed over his muscular chest, his tattoos just barely peeking out over the neckline of his t-shirt. I know those tattoos intimately, can trace them with my eyes closed.

It’s been far too long since I’ve done that.

His voice pulls me from my thoughts of the ink adorning his skin. “I’ll cook. Get a bottle of your favorite wine. We don’t have to go anywhere.”

He sounds like he’s negotiating a hostage situation, not asking me to dinner. I hate it.

I stop typing, trying my best not to show my annoyance. “I don’t know. I’ll have to see.”

Cassian's reaction does not reflect any sort of satisfaction. “Come on, Nesta. We haven’t had a date night in months. I will literally bring date night to you—”

“I said I’ll have to see.” The moment the words come out of my mouth, I feel guilty. My tone is embarrassing, but I can’t control it, the snap.

Cassian's mouth shuts and his jaw locks. “Fine.”

“Good.”

A beat passes between us before I start typing again. I can feel Cassian’s eyes blazing into the back of my head for a minute, then he’s turning around. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” I say, trying to sound as genuine as possible, but mostly I just sound stressed.

Which I am.

So damn stressed.

I hear him walk down the hall and close our bedroom door. I stop typing yet again, my eyes shutting as I rub my temples.

At least I’m honest. I could tell Cassian that I’d be home by dinner tomorrow, but then I would be late and he would just be disappointed and get pissed. It’s better to let him down up front rather than too late.

Being a best selling author isn’t all I was expecting it to be. Sure, seeing my book on shelves next to some of my all time favorites is awesome, but it’s daunting. My first book was self published, coming to life out of my own blood, sweat, and tears. So once it took off and I started working with a publishing company, I thought I’d made it. Things were going to get easier. All I had to do was get my words down onto paper and they’d do the rest.

Wrong.

Someone is always demanding something. Whether that’s a finalized draft, an update on an outline, or approval for cover artwork, I never have a moment to breathe.

As if the universe is laughing at me, a new text chimes on my phone, lying face down on my desk. I recognize the sound, immediately knowing it’s my agent, Eris.

I sigh, telling myself to ignore the notification. I’m already editing hours after I should be, but my eyes keep bouncing up to my phone. After reading the same sentence four times, not comprehending a single word, I snatch my phone up.

Got a phone call from the Velaris Times. They have an opening for an interview tomorrow afternoon.

An opportunity I can’t pass up.

Sounds like a plan. My office or theirs?

If I thought I would be able to focus back on my edits, I was wrong. Eris is typing back as soon as my text is received.

Over dinner, actually. Viviane Whittaker will meet you at Rita’s at 5:30.

My thumbs hover over the screen.

Can you at least try to make it home by six tomorrow night? Please?

Swallowing, I type out my reply.

I’ll be there fifteen minutes early.

I should go tell Cassian that there will be no date night tomorrow, but I think better of it. I’m already so tired and that is not a fight that I want to start so late at night. I’ll just text him about tomorrow.

I look back up at my screen and try to reset my mind, call back my concentration. Just as I begin reading, a jingling bell comes closer and a ball of fluff settles on my feet.

I look down at the chubby black cat and reach down to scratch him between the ears. “Hi, Greg.”

Greg shoots me a look full of judgment.

“Don’t try to guilt me,” I say, straightening back up in my chair. “I already feel guilty enough.”

With a huff, Greg lays his head against the carpet and closes his eyes. I’m officially the only one in the house not fast asleep.

Cassian -

I haven’t gotten mind-numbingly drunk since college, but all I want to do once I get out of work is drink to forget. I’ve never been good at handling my anger, and I was already on edge, so when Nesta texted me saying that she had dinner plans and would be home late, I was automatically seeing red.

I just want one night with my wife but I should have known that was too much to ask for. It usually is.

Already finding Rhys’ number in my phone, I hop in my truck and start the engine as he answers.

“We’re going out tonight. Drinks are on me,” I say, before he can even say hello.

“It’s a Thursday,” he replies with a laugh, but I know he’d be there regardless. Out of all of us, Rhys was the one who had ended up with a real “big boy” job. He’s one of the most respected lawyers in Velaris, and having his own practice, he basically gets to make his own hours if he isn’t in court.

“Glad you can read a calendar.” I sound like a dick but I can’t bring myself to care. “I’ll be at Windhaven in fifteen.”

“Should I call Az or is he already on the way?”

“I texted him first. Didn’t want him to leave work and have to turn around.”

Azriel works in a tattoo parlor two blocks down from our favorite spot, but lives outside of town. With Elain being pregnant, there’s only so much time we get with our brother.

I look over at the empty spot in the garage next to mine and sigh.

A hole in my chest that has been progressively growing larger aches. I’ve always been proud of Nesta. She’s always wanted to be an author since the day I met her, and she’s living her dream. And she’s really damn good at it. She has a way with words that I could never understand, that I couldn’t even come close to matching. She was meant to be a writer.

But ever since she’s found success, I’ve come in second.

It’s not that I always have to be her first priority. I want her to live for more than me, but it would be nice to be a priority sometimes. It would be nice for her to put our marriage first, to make time for me, for us. I barely even see her, and when I do, her eyes are glued to her laptop screen. She didn’t come to bed until four, then was up again at seven, barely uttering a word to me before she left for her office.

“Cass?”

I haven’t even realized that Rhys has been talking to me. “Sorry.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” he says, and his tone has softened, fully aware of where my mind has gone. “Get a booth.”

“Alright.” I hang up, reading Azriel’s text on my screen once I pull the phone away from my ear.

Perfect. Had to tattoo a flower on an 80 year old woman’s ass today. I need a drink.

Despite my current mood, I chuckle and pull out of the driveway. Keeping the radio off, I drive, wondering if I should send Nesta a good luck text. In all reality, she probably won’t reply, so I toss my phone in the passenger seat and let it be.

If Nesta wants to talk to me, wants to spend time with me, she would be home for dinner for once. I know I’m being petty, but after a while, being neglected by the woman you married becomes exhausting.

And I’m so damn tired. I need booze and bad food and my brothers. I’m man enough to admit when I need to get something off my chest, but not enough to do it sober.

Rhys’s instructions to get a booth were unnecessary. Azriel unsurprisingly beat me here and is sitting in our normal booth, the one with a direct line of sight to the bartender. A pitcher of beer sits in the middle of the table as well as three glasses. I appreciate my brother’s propensity to think ahead, but I need something harder than beer tonight.

Nodding to Az, I make a beeline to the bar. Breathing a sigh of relief, I see Ace is the one behind the bar tonight, not Devlon. The old man owns the bar and has never been a fan of me, Rhys or Az.

“You look like you need a free drink,” Ace says, as I make it to the bar and lean against the cool wooden top.

“I always need a free drink.” The words sound pitiful coming out of my mouth. Ace just winks and pours me a glass of whiskey without even having to ask me what I want. “Thanks.”

“Always,” she says, patting my hand before I turn to walk to the booth. I’ll see her again shortly. I don’t expect the glass of whiskey to last too long before I need another.

Azriel watches me approach, his glass already halfway gone. I nod to it as I sit across from him. “Has the image of elderly ass been erased from your mind yet?”

“No,” Azriel says, taking another drink. “But the memory looks better and better with every drink.”

I huff a laugh as I sip from my glass of whiskey, enjoying the burn as it slides down my throat and I pour a glass from the pitcher in the middle of the table.

Rhysand appears beside me and slides onto the bench. I hadn’t even realized that he’d walked in, but in my defense, I’m hardly present.

After pleasant hellos and Rhysand pouring his own glass, he asks, “So, is this when you tell us the reason you want to get plastered on a Thursday?”

Swirling my glass, I watch as the whiskey moves through the ice cubes, the color diluting as they melt slowly. Bringing my drink to my lips, I drink deeply and set the glass down, staring at the table top.

“My marriage is falling apart.”

Neither of them speak.

Neither of them do anything.

I wasn’t expecting them to fall over themselves to comfort me, but I was at least expecting a back pat or an I’m sorry, man. Glancing up from the table, they both just stare at me.

The look in their eyes tells me they knew. Everyone knows. We haven’t been ourselves in months. I can’t think of the last time we were both at a family dinner.

“I don’t know what to do,” I go on, when neither of them say a word. “I’ve been trying…but every time I try, no matter what I try, I feel like I’m pushing her further away.” I take a drink. “I’m exhausted.”

I down what’s in my glass and motion for Ace to make me another.

“I tried to give her a date night tonight,” I go on, working on my beer that’s quickly disappearing. My brothers simply watch me as I babble. “We haven’t had a date night in months. She never seems interested, so I stopped asking. Last night, I asked, for the first time in a long damn time.” I gesture around the table. “As you can see, I’m not with my wife.”

“Where is she?” Azriel asks, when it’s clear I’d paused my rambling, at last.

Another glass of whiskey is set in front of me. I give Ace a grateful look before shrugging. “With some reporter. Not sure where. They’re out to dinner and will probably be there until some ridiculous hour.”

Azriel looks away from me, his eyes locking with Rhys and then I feel both of their gazes on me. I turn to Rhys, who is usually the one who takes the lead in awkward situations. Tonight is apparently no different.

“She won’t have dinner with you, but she’ll meet some skeezy reporter for dinner?” He asks, an eyebrow raised.

Shrugging my shoulders, I start on my second drink. “So it seems.”

He folds his arms atop the table and leans towards me. “And you didn’t ask where they were going? Or when she would be home?”

“I stopped asking what time she’d be home months ago.” My voice sounds hollow, empty. I wonder how long it’s sounded like that. “And begging for answers seemed pathetic.”

They make eye contact again and Azriel clears his throat. “You don’t…think she’s having an affair, do you?”

“Absolutely not.”

He sighs. “Cass—”

“She isn’t sleeping with anyone else.”

“Cass,” Rhys begins, his tone as placating as possible, slipping into the voice of the man who can convince anyone of anything. It’s what makes him such a good defense lawyer. It makes me want to break something. Makes me feel weak. “We know you love Nesta and that she loves you.”

“She wouldn’t cheat on me,” I snap, and I mean it. We might not be on great terms right now, but Nesta is loyal to those she loves.

And despite the distance between us, I have to believe she still loves me.

“Sorry,” I say, trying to calm myself down once the silence between us stretches on for too long. The air is thick. They know they had struck a chord and are surely deciding if they want to keep the conversation going. “I just…don’t think that’s the case.”

“If she’s not cheating, then what’s the issue?” Azriel asks, tentatively. “Her work?”

“Yeah, she’s busy,” I say, staring at my empty glass. “But…I don’t know. Honestly, I have no fucking clue how we got here. We barely talk. Most nights, she doesn’t even come to bed. I can’t even tell you the last time we had sex.” That was a lie. I remember it, and it was way too long ago for me to admit. “Every time we do talk, it ends in a fight. I’m just…at the end of my rope. I don’t know what to do.”

The table is quiet for another minute before Rhys asks, “Are you saying that you want to leave her?”

It’s not that the thought has never crossed my mind. Lately, I think about it often, filing for divorce, giving up, but hearing the words out loud make me feel sick to my stomach.

I don’t answer.

I wave to Ace for another whiskey.

The table is silent until she brings the drink and returns to the bar.

“I don’t see what other options I have.” My words are whispered, as if I can’t hear them, they aren't coming out. My words are starting to slur a bit, a good sign I should probably slow down.

I ignore that sign and take a drink.

“You two fought like cats and dogs when you first met,” Rhys reminds me, as if I could somehow forget. “What’s different now?”

“Those weren’t fights, that was sexual tension,” I admit, shaking my head. “Gotta have sex for there to be sexual tension.”

Azriel refills his beer. “She hasn’t said anything to Elain, as far as I know.”

“Or Feyre,” Rhys adds.

“You both know Nesta,” I start, looking between the two of them. “She doesn’t talk about her feelings with anyone, much less me or her sisters.”

They both frown, watching me with concern, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Do you still love her?” Azriel asks.

“Of course I do,” I say, my anger fading as the alcohol calms me, consumes me. “But just because I love her doesn’t mean that it’s working anymore.”

“Don’t make any rash decisions,” Rhys says, calmly, refilling my beer for me before motioning to Ace for another pitcher. Seems I’m done with whiskey for the night. “I know you, don’t act out of anger. You have to tell Nesta how frustrated you are. You have to communicate.”

I know he’s right, know that communication has become a weakness in our marriage. I don’t want to communicate, I don’t want to work for it, I just want my marriage to right itself, to return to the way it used to be.

And I want to fucking drink.

So that’s what I do, alongside my brothers, until I’m not thinking about my crumbling marriage at all.

#better or worse #nessian better or worse #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #snelbz x theladyofdeath collab #snacmc collabs

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stillwintering · 1 month

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All's Fair in Love and Politics (a modern Nessian AU - where Rhys is running for president)

Summary: In the ruthless arena of politics, victory demands risking everything, even one's own heart. Rhysand has his eyes on the presidency. Feyre convinces her estranged sister, Nesta, to join the political campaign. Nesta and Cassian find themselves forging an unexpected bond as the campaign intensifies. But can their budding romance survive the treacherous waters of modern political warfare?

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8

Chapter 9

One run became two. Then, before she knew it, Nesta found herself training with Cassian three times a week. Even when they returned to DC, they continued to run together.

They fell into a natural routine, meeting up after their workday at a major landmark on the National Mall, like the Lincoln Memorial or the Washington Monument. Cassian, evidently a seasoned runner, would lead her on beautiful routes around the Potomac. Although Nesta had spent many years in DC, she had never taken the opportunity to visit any of its cultural sights.

"The Lincoln Memorial is best viewed early in the morning, at first light," Cassian had remarked once when they met at the white granite steps to begin their run. He knew full well that Nesta wasn't the type to rise at such an ungodly hour for exercise.

"Dusk will have to suffice for us," he had said with a wink.

Nesta soon discovered that Cassian maintained a rigorous schedule, rising each day at 4:30 am -- a vestige of his years in the army, he told her. She quickly grew to appreciate the fierce discipline beneath the easygoing demeanor with which Cassian approached his work and life.

"Old habits die hard," he had confessed with a small smile.

Nesta surprised herself by how much she looked forward to her sessions with Cassian. He had been an excellent coach, helping to correct her running form and improving her strength training. She liked Cassian's carefree laugh and how he constantly challenged her to be a little faster and stronger during each workout.

Despite spending entire workdays together -- except when campaign commitments called him away to the early-voting states -- Nesta never felt overwhelmed by his company.

She was seeing a lot of Cassian. But she couldn't bring herself to mind.

As spring gave way to summer in Washington, Azriel joined the two of them on their evening workouts. Azriel's presence was a stark contrast to Cassian's boisterous energy.

Where Cassian was fire, Azriel was water -- quiet, steady, an intensity that lay beneath the surface.

In the sticky heat of DC summers, Cassian and Azriel often completed their runs without a shirt. The appreciative looks and naked ogling from passersby had not escaped Nesta's notice. She had caught many women (and some men) staring slack-jawed at their beautiful forms.

But she had been surprised the first time -- a rainy, humid June evening -- when she saw that they bore complimentary tattoos, intricate black patterns swirling across their chests and backs. She didn't think that it was appropriate to inquire after their provenance.

It was clear that Cassian and Azriel considered each other to be true brothers in everything but blood. And like bickering siblings, they brought out a vicious competitiveness in each other.

There were numerous occasions where Nesta found herself stepping aside so that the two men could engage in additional physical trials as a means to settle scores that only they seemed to keep track of.

Sometimes, Cassian and Azriel would spontaneously challenge each other to sprint races to some designated landmark. Other times, they would engage in impromptu strength contests, seeing who could complete the most burpees or hold the longest plank, with Nesta often roped in as the reluctant judge.

Once in July, the competitive edge between Cassian and Azriel escalated beyond mere athletic feats and into outright hand-to-hand combat. At the end of their official 8-mile route, Cassian and Azriel had challenged each other to a sprint towards a secluded patch of forest by the Tidal Basin, leaving Nesta to catch up to them.

By the time she found them again, they were circling each other with lethal intensity, ready to strike. It was as if all that crude competitive energy between them had finally boiled over.

Cassian eyes flickered to Nesta, marking her arrival to their patch of the forest. Azriel, taking the opening, struck first, his fist launching towards Cassian, who blocked quickly. Nesta observed the ensuing sparring session with a mix of horror and carnal fascination. It was as if their bodies spoke a language of their own, a dialogue of feints and parries, blocks and counters.

It was clear that they'd sparred before, and Nesta wondered whether this was another vestige of their shared military days.

The sight of Cassian's beautiful, muscled body, taut and rippling with every forceful movement, stirred something primal within her. His physical dominance was undeniable. It was like witnessing a live sculpture in motion, each muscle group defining itself with remarkable clarity under his sweat-slicked, golden skin, igniting an urgent warmth in Nesta's core.

Azriel, with his lithe, agile form, displayed a different kind of power. His movements were liquid poetry, each twist and turn highlighting the lean, sinewy muscles beneath his tanned skin. The grace and precision with which he moved were tantalizing, a seductive dance that drew Nesta's eyes to the swell of his back muscles, the curve of his biceps, and the hardness of his abdomen.

Finally, Azriel executed a swift, well-timed strike that connected solidly with the right side of Cassian's face. Cassian staggered back slightly, momentarily dazed, and then raised his hands in surrender.

"Okay," Cassian chuckled, rubbing his jaw where Azriel's blow had landed. "You got me, Az."

Azriel, however, didn't relax his guard. His attention remained sharply focused on Cassian, his body still coiled and ready. "No appetite for a knockout today?" he asked, challenge lacing his voice.

"A knockout? You wish," Cassian answered, playful. "You're in top form today -- I'll give you that."

Azriel's stance finally loosened. The corners of his mouth turned up in a satisfied smile. "Someone has to keep you on your toes, Cass."

Nesta folded her arms across her chest. "Really, you two?" Nesta admonished, her gaze shifting between Cassian and Azriel, still squared off against each other. "Has no one taught you to use your words first before resorting to violence?"

Cassian looked over Azriel's shoulder to where Nesta stood. "Az, here, never got over the fact that I beat his rucking record during basic training," he teased.

Azriel turned while rolling his eyes. "By three minutes," he reminded him drily.

"Rucking?" Nesta asked.

"It's a timed test used by the Army to assess physical fitness," Cassian replied. "Twelve miles in unforgiving conditions while carrying a 45-pound rucksack, along with your standard equipment and rifle."

Nesta arched a brow. "Dare I ask where the record stands?"

"One hour and 28 minutes," Azriel supplied.

Nesta couldn't help but give Cassian an assessing once-over. He flashed her a cocksure grin, loving how her eyes traveled up and down his body. She immediately felt her cheeks flush.

"Don't encourage him, Nesta," Azriel smiled, too aware, "My brother's ego is large enough as it is. It'll be unbearable for all of us if it gets any bigger."

Nesta forced out a frown, self-conscious. But she couldn't tell if she was embarrassed by their brutish behavior or by how she was caught blatantly gawking at Cassian's muscled chest.

"Next time you two feel the urge to engage in a childish, testosterone-fueled pissing contest," she said disapprovingly, face still red, "Please leave me out of it."

Cassian swung an arm over Azriel's shoulders, pulling him into an affectionate side hug. Azriel had visibly relaxed against Cassian -- whatever score between them settled.

"Don't worry, Nes," Cassian laughed, a deep rumble. "Next time, Az won't be getting the better of me."

Azriel knocked against Cassian's shoulder in displeasure, but his eyes were mirthful. "Are you saying you want to go for a second round already?"

Cassian eyed his brother with a wicked glint. "We can move this to a boxing ring."

Azriel took a beat to consider. "Name the time and place."

Nesta shook her head sternly. "I'm going home," she announced.

Sparing one last look at the two half-naked men, Nesta tamped down the flutter in her stomach as she walked away, suddenly feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

---

Thankfully, Amren did not assign Nesta to join Cassian on his frequent trips to field offices across all the early voting states. Now that the Iowa offices were up and running under Baz's leadership, Cassian shifted his energy to New Hampshire, South Carolina, and Michigan. But Nesta remained Cassian's primary partner on most projects. While he traveled, she stayed in DC to work on media strategy, messaging, and provided logistical support. They were constantly together or constantly on the phone with each other. She would have been annoyed to depend so heavily on a colleague, but she found Cassian to be resourceful and frustratingly competent.

Nesta was also thankful that Amren refrained from putting her on projects that required her presence in Velaris at the home office. Azriel had been charged with that particular assignment.

Feyre was in and out of DC all summer, primarily to accompany Rhys to important fundraisers. Nesta resolved to build a firewall between her work and personal lives. So, she made a point of keeping her interactions with Feyre purely professional. The last thing she needed was to lose focus when the big political battles were looming ahead.

Sometime during the summer, Nesta decided that she loved her job -- campaigning suited her. She found a profound sense of purpose in shaping Starborn's policies and moving the debate among the candidates. Now that Sean Hybern was the Republican frontrunner in all but name, Nesta felt an exigency in what they were doing that she had never felt before: she was willing to do everything in her power to ensure Hybern didn't win the presidency.

She could tell Cassian was also driven by the same fear. Occasionally, she would catch glimpses of a burning intensity in his eyes while he was in the middle of some task, whether it was on a conference call with the field offices where he would direct their operations with canny efficiency, or it was in the heat of a brutal discussion with Rhys and Amren over campaign priorities. It was the same deadly intent she saw when Cassian and Azriel sparred.

And Nesta wondered what it would be like to have all that military-honed lethality trained on her. It gave her goosebumps.

Every now and again, she could feel that he was watching her in the office. But whenever she caught his eyes, that burning intensity immediately dissipated into something softer and yielding towards her.

It felt like a mask. Like he, too, had a firewall.

---

Like their evening runs, Nesta and Cassian fell into an easy routine at the office.

"So, the Iowa State Fair," Nesta came to sit on the edge of Cassian's desk one late July afternoon. She had been going over the list of Rhys's campaign appearances for August. The Des Moines Register hosted a Political Soapbox event for all presidential hopefuls at the Iowa State Fair -- it was an essential campaign event. Nesta had been helping Rhys hone his interview answers for weeks.

Cassian looked up from his laptop. "What about it?"

"You're not going with Rhys?"

He cocked his head. "No, I have to be in Michigan that weekend."

Nesta smiled coyly. "I just thought that..." she bit her bottom lip in the way she knew would get his attention. "That was the sort of thing that you enjoyed. The reason you liked traveling for the campaign so much."

After all this time spent together, Nesta had finally mastered the art of their repartee. She learned the contours of Cassian's humor, the tempos of his day, and most importantly, the buttons she could press to elicit a reaction.

"What?" He looked dazedly at her face, gaze lingering on her lips.

"Don't you want to see the butter cow?"

Cassian snorted. "Do you want to see the butter cow?"

"You understand it's a life-size cow made entirely of butter," Nesta replied seriously.

He shifted back in his chair. "I'm not going," he said again. "But you are welcome to go and see the butter cow yourself, Nes."

"There's also a butter Elvis and a butter Last Supper which has, I swear to God, Cassian --"

"Butter on the table?" he provided with a wide grin, falling into the rhythm of their now familiar banter.

"It's got butter on the table right there between butter James and butter Peter." She widened her eyes for effect and then leaned toward him so that she was only a few inches from his face. "It's an almost mind-blowing vortex of art and material that dares the viewer to recall Marcel Duchamp," she finished breathlessly.

She watched Cassian swallow. He often became slightly flustered when she entered his personal space unexpectedly. She waited for him to recover.

Up close, she could almost make out all the golden flecks in the hazel of his eyes -- a glimpse of that burning intensity peeking through.

"How do they keep it from melting?" he asked after a beat too long. His expression shuttered, eyes guarded again.

Satisfied, she pulled back. "How, indeed," she said with a wink and returned to her desk.

---

Rhysand's summer calendar was a tightly packed itinerary of political fundraisers from the East to the West Coast. Nesta knew it was essential for candidates to amass the financial resources necessary for the upcoming primary season. But the process troubled her, how much politicians depended on their donors.

When Nesta was still reporting, she was never allowed to attend a high-level fundraiser; they were strictly closed to the press. Now, in her senior role on the Starborn campaign, she had been fielding invitations to various breakfasts, lunches, and dinners around the DC area. She was finally given a look behind the proverbial curtain, and she wasn't sure she liked what she found.

The beginning of August marked Keir Hewn's summer fundraiser for the Democratic National Committee, a blockbuster event among the Beltway elites. With all the high rollers invited, the party was expected to raise millions in one night. Nesta reluctantly agreed to go along with the rest of the senior staff, even though these events always left her feeling greasy afterward.

The sprawling grounds of the Hewn Mansion had been transformed into a spectacle designed to dazzle the crème de la crème of political society for the evening. Fairy lights wove through the foliage and above the walkways, creating an illusion of a starlit canopy that mirrored the clear night sky. A candle-lit path led guests through the manicured lawn to a series of outdoor gazeboes. The large flagstone terrace was set with tables dressed in blue and silver linens, the DNC's colors, with centerpieces of lilies and roses.

Nesta slipped into the garden from the North entrance, careful to avoid crowds gathered near the mansion doors. She remembered the layout of the grounds well from the spring charity gala.

After taking a lap around the terrace, she found Mor and Azriel by the bar.

"Nesta, you must tell me where you found your dress!" Mor exclaimed as soon as she was close enough.

"My friend owns a boutique in Alexandria," Nesta replied, allowing Mor to pull her in for a kiss on the cheek. "I can send you the address. She'd love to dress you."

"Please do," Mor said. "This fabric is absolutely divine!" Mor ran a hand down Nesta's side, feeling the soft grey silk of her gown. She clearly had a lot to drink already. Mor was partial to red for formal events, and Nesta was sure that tonight's red tulle number was made of a material far more luxurious than her own.

Azriel handed Nesta a glass of wine. "Chenin Blanc," he said and leaned in for a kiss as well. "If I recall correctly."

They've attended enough open bar events together now that Azriel knew her preferred drink orders. "Thank you," she smiled.

Taking a sip, Nesta surveyed the assembled guests from the rim of her glass. It seemed like the entire higher echelon of the Democratic Party was in attendance. She spotted Rhys and Feyre on the lawn speaking with the House Whip and Senate Minority Leader. Closer to them on the terrace, Thesan Morgenstern was huddled with Keir Hewn, Speaker Beron, and, from the expensive cut of the fourth man's suit, a high-dollar donor.

Mor sniffed. "Don't worry," she said, following Nesta's gaze. "My father holds another fundraiser in September for the GOP. We Hewns are, if anything, equal opportunity lobbyists."

"Is your father backing Thesan for the Democratic nomination?" Nesta asked.

Mor frowned, picking up another glass of red wine from a waiter. "My father hasn't made a decision yet," she replied, voice low. "My father would never bet on only the favorite when it is possible to bet on all the contenders. He will guarantee that the winner be indebted to him in some way or other."

"No family loyalty?" Nesta arched a brow.

Mor laughed. "It's business," she said simply. "Now, what do you say that we go find Cassian and see about turning this snoozefest around?"

Mor linked her arms between Nesta and Azriel and pulled them towards the candle-lit lawn.

---

Cassian was talking to a bald man Nesta didn't recognize beneath a sprawling elm tree just below the terrace. The soft illumination from the lights weaving through the branches highlighted the perfect angles of his face as he spoke. The other man was older and seemed intensely interested in whatever Cassian said, but their conversation seemed stilted.

Cassian had been gone for campaign business for the last week, and it was already as if she were seeing him for the first time. When their eyes met, everything around them seemed to fade, and the chatter and laughter in the air became muted hums. Cassian shook the man's hand goodbye without looking at him, his attention solely on Nesta as she walked up to where he was standing.

She drank in every inch of him: his broad shoulders, his dark hair styled just so, and the unyielding strength in his posture. Her heart thrummed a frantic rhythm against her ribs; it had been doing that a lot in his presence this summer.

Cassian wrapped Mor into a brief hug, moving as if on autopilot; his eyes remained focused on Nesta the whole time. Mor returned to her conversation with Azriel. Cassian remained still as a statue.

"Nesta Archeron," he finally breathed, voice low and husky. "You are lovely."

A blush crept up her cheeks, her usual retort dying on her lips. Instead, she allowed herself to luxuriate in the burning intensity of his gaze. He felt like a vision from a dream she rarely allowed herself to indulge in.

Then, she blinked -- the spell broken. "I wasn't sure if you were going to make it back from New Hampshire for tonight."

"I couldn't miss the social event of the summer."

"When did you get in?"

"A few hours ago," he admitted, looking down at the drink in his hand. When he looked back up, his eyes glittered. "Did you miss me?"

Nesta scoffed. "I'm much more productive without you around the office to distract me."

"That's not a no." The corners of his lips twitched.

“It’s not a yes, either. We talk every day on the phone,” Nesta took a drink from her glass. “How long are you back for?”

“I’ll be flying out to South Carolina by Monday,” he replied, looking away and then back at her. "Admit it, you missed me.”

“I miss having a reliable running buddy," she finally conceded with a small smile. "Mine is constantly out of town.”

He leaned against the solid tree trunk, studying her like a puzzle. "Sounds like you might need to get a new running buddy," he finally said.

All these months of close proximity, orbiting each other like binary stars, yet he always pulled himself back, never letting himself get too close.

Did she want him to cross that boundary between them? She didn't know what she would find on the other side.

"Perhaps," she murmured, stepping close so she could press her free palm against the tree beside him. She marked his eyes drop and linger on the low cut of her dress. "It's terribly rude of him to always leave me high and dry while he is away."

He swallowed. "What would you have him do then?"

This close, she could make out all the notes of his cologne: black truffle, patchouli, and ylang-ylang. She would bet all the money she had in her wallet that he smelled even more intoxicating if she leaned into the skin of his neck, right below his ear.

Nesta took a small step back. "Who were you talking to?" she asked instead, changing the subject.

"Ted Marcus," Cassian replied, his posture stiffening. "Hollywood executive, big-time donor."

"Ah," she acknowledged. "Is he one of Rhys's supporters?"

"I imagine so," Cassian said. "But I haven't figured out what he wants yet."

Nesta turned away, her discomfort palpable amidst the buzz of political strategizing and the clinking of expensive glassware. She forced herself to concentrate on the faces in the distance.

"Is there anyone here I should be talking to?" she asked, reminding herself that this was a work event.

Cassian stepped into the spot beside her, so they faced the same direction, towards the terrace. He lowered himself so his face almost touched hers, their eyes exactly level so he could see from her vantage point, following her gaze into the crowd.

"Well," he spoke softly. "Lauren Shelby," he gestures towards a woman in a black dress, "from OMB is crucial; she knows everything that is happening with the major bills. Ryan Pierce, clerks for the Chief Justice. You'll need Senator Arnold Vinick's support to pass anything in the upper chamber." He pointed out each guest to her.

Then, he stopped and waited for the throngs to shift. If she moved even a little bit, she would brush against his temple. She held her breath.

"Roger Salier," he finally pointed out. "Owns half the newspapers on the East Coast. But I suppose you probably know him already."

She nodded. "Only by reputation."

Cassian moved away, straightening to his full height. She almost sighed at the loss of heat from his proximity.

Mor had been watching them out of the corner of her eye. "Would you like an introduction?" she asked.

"What?" Nesta pivoted, almost forgetting that Azriel and Mor were nearby.

"To Roger Salier?" Mor smirked, her eyes glinting with an emotion Nesta couldn't place. "Perhaps you can convince him to part with some pocket change for the campaign. Or grant Rhys a meeting with the editorial board of The Washington Post."

Nesta studied the man in question. He stood on the edge of the party -- he looked young with energetic eyes -- speaking to an older man with a grey beard. His suit was extremely flattering, perfectly tailored to his tall, lithe frame. The fabric and lines were so exquisite that even from far away Nesta was sure it was from Savile Row.

"He's newly single, too," Mor continued. "A very amicable breakup. It wasn't a serious relationship -- if the town gossip is to be believed. Definitely the most eligible bachelor here, I'd say."

Cassian's expression became perfectly neutral, although he clutched his glass so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Nesta only blinked, surprised by the conversation's turn. Mor took Nesta's pause as affirmation.

"Okay, Az, you've got to do the honors," Mor squealed in delight. "I already gave Roger the whole campaign spiel earlier tonight. It would be too conspicuous if I made the introduction. Az will escort you over there. He can divert Myron," she indicated to the bearded man standing next to Roger, "while you make your entrance."

Azriel shifted on his feet uncomfortably. "I am not --"

But Mor was already blazing with unabashed glee, her cheeks pink and eyes bright -- it reminded Nesta of Emerie when she got particularly worked up over some scheme.

"Off you go!" She practically shoved Azriel and Nesta together with a self-satisfied grin.

Azriel gave Nesta a conciliatory shrug and hooked her hand around his elbow. "Sorry," he said softly as he tugged her away. "It's easier to just go along with it. Mor loves to play matchmaker."

Nesta sighed. "Oh, all right," she conceded; after all, she came tonight to primarily socialize for professional gain. She allowed Azriel to escort her back towards the Mansion.

When Nesta looked over her shoulder, she gave Cassian a wan smile, a little disappointed to leave him behind. Cassian's expression was unreadable. Mor talked giddily against his ear, but he didn't move -- his eyes were hard as stone as he watched Nesta walk away.

Azriel was saying something to her. Nesta nodded along but had yet to hear one word. Her mind was churning. She was almost sure of Cassian's interest in her -- he flirted with her constantly. Yet, a nagging puzzle piece refused to fit: his relationship with Mor. Were they, or had they ever been a couple? Or was it Azriel who was Mor's lover?

The questions lingered like specters in her thoughts, and the ambiguity clouded her judgment.

#fanfic #nessian #nesta x cassian #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #cassian #nesta archeron #acosf #acotar #nesta #all's fair in love and politics #archive of our own #nesta and cassian are working on a political campaign #all's fair in love and politcs

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thesistersarcheron · 1 year

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Pairings: Elriel, Feysand, Nessian Rating: E Tags: Bodyguard x Celebrity AU, Tattoos, Social Media, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Light BDSM Word Count: 2.1k Summary: Elain Archeron used to be the world's darling, a sweet, wholesome pop superstar with millions of best friends. Her star never seemed to stop rising… Until a slighted ex leaked a video of Elain slut-shaming another singer. Now, she's launching a comeback album to tell her side of the story, and she knows her bodyguard will do everything in his power to ensure she's never hurt like that again. ---- Find more on my masterlist or read this fic on AO3!

Azriel Shadowsinger went running the second the text notification dinged his phone, the piercing chirp alerting him that Rhys was sending it from his work phone. He didn’t even read the message until he was already out the door of the basement gym where he’d been pummeling a punching bag and halfway up the stairs.

Rhysand (11:42 PM): Get to Elain. Now.

His heart dropped.

After seven years as Elain Archeron’s bodyguard, Azriel thought he had seen it all: hysterical teenage girls sobbing en masse and clutching Elain during meet-and-greets, overzealous paparazzi who tried to sneak into her car with her to capture a photograph unawares, the same five or six people who lingered out on the street every morning and night hoping to get a glimpse of what she wore each day—even internet freaks determined to cut a lock of her hair to sell for a premium on eBay.

Hell, there had been more than one stalker who believed Elain was madly in love with them and sending secret messages through her music to come take her away.

But nothing had ever scared him as much as Rhys's text. As a rule, Rhys didn’t text from his work phone; he pinned locations and shared travel details and spammed Azriel with emails, but never texted. He preferred to call, to be on the line listening and watching if anything happened when he wasn’t around.

Azriel (11:43 PM): OMW

Rhysand (11:43 PM): Report when you have eyes on her.

Shit.

Azriel supposed he was lucky that he had been in the basement of Elain’s townhouse, that he’d been the one to take the night shift and the spare bedroom she kept aside for him. But luck was relative, and if Rhys’s messages were any indication…

He took stock of the house as he ran; a look at the app on his phone showed that no alarms had been triggered, no movement was detected by the cameras around the house, and he couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary—no unfamiliar voices, no screaming, no sounds of a struggle.

He made it to the top floor in record time, practically flying onto the landing and to the door at the end of the hall where he knew Elain would be at this hour. A shock of adrenaline rushed into his veins as he threw it open, clearing his mind and bracing for a fight, and—

Nothing.

No stalkers, no peeping toms, no shrieking fans.

Only Elain, curled into a tiny ball on her massive four-poster bed and sobbing wretchedly.

He froze.

“…Elain?”

“Oh my God,” Elain moaned into her pillow, pulling her legs impossibly closer to her chest. “Oh my God.”

Azriel’s phone buzzed with a message—Cassian (11:44 PM): OMW ETA 15 min—and he shot off a quick text to Rhys as he took a tentative step into Elain’s room, the private space she guarded so zealously that he’d had to teach her older sister Nesta how to check the window locks for tampering and set up the camera overlooking the fire escape.

Azriel (11:45 PM): Got her.

Elain turned away from him, sniffling and gasping for air in a way that pulled his heartstrings so taut that he imagined they might snap.

“Elain?” he asked again as she burrowed beneath her thick duvet and dragged a pillow over her head, as if she wanted to disappear.

The sight of it was so painful that it was an effort to keep his arms at his sides, not to encroach on her space and scoop her up in his arms the way he longed to. To hold her shivering, quaking body until she could breathe easier.

He double checked the thread with Rhys, desperate for some sort of context, but Rhys hadn’t messaged back.

“Are you alright?”

What a stupid question. But Elain had turned him into a grasping, hopeless idiot the moment they met in Rhys’s office all those years ago, and it seemed that the effect she had on him was only magnified when she was crying like the world was about to end.

Elain didn’t answer anyway, and Azriel flexed his hands beneath the boxing wraps he’d woven between his fingers earlier in the evening. A better question then, one to actually help him assess the situation. “What happened?”

Another muffled sob sounded, and then Elain’s hand appeared in the gap between the covers and the pillow, wordlessly holding her phone out to him.

Azriel shoved down his hesitation, his eyes scanning her plushly carpeted room as he ventured deeper inside. It was all heady jasmine perfume, lush houseplants with trailing vines, and soft, embroidered fabrics—no threats. No blood.

He was struck by the softness of the space she’d cultivated for herself. He navigated it carefully, stepping over the battered keyboard and creased notebooks littering the floor, so as not to leave a mark as he moved to her bedside.

Her bedside, the setting of so many of his illicit fantasies, though he could hardly remember a single one as he took stock of Elain’s trembling hand and the gasping breaths she was taking beneath the pillow.

He hummed, low and hopefully reassuring. “What do you want to show me?”

Elain sniffled again. On her phone, her lovely face stared back at Azriel in miniature, a video attached to a Tweet posted by what was clearly a throwaway account. With a single finger tipped with pink polish, she pressed play.

The footage was blurry, panning over a dark mass of bodies lit up in flashing neon, and music blared in the background. The camera swooped dizzily, and then Elain was in the shot, leaning over a table toward whoever was filming her in a darkened booth. It was a perfect shot down her glittery top, revealing the smooth expanse of her from breastbone to bellybutton, only interrupted—thank fuck—by the cups of her bra.

Nevertheless, Azriel’s jaw clenched, and he had to work to control his breathing in a way that had nothing to do with running up four flights of stairs. It was obvious what the person filming was trying to capture.

Obvious and fucking deplorable.

Elain blinked at the camera once, slowly and languidly in the way that meant she was truly sloshed, and tilted her head. The lights flashed, highlighting the short, bleached bob she’d had two years ago with streaks of deep blue, and she smiled shyly as a bit of her own voice echoed through a dance remix, burying her face in her hands.

The position hid her body behind her arms and, bored, the camera swung back out toward the throbbing, writhing crowd of clubgoers.

“And— and Cresseida…” She said off-camera, continuing whatever conversation she’d been having. Her tinny, drunken laugh followed the name. “She’s, like, such a slut!”

Azriel stilled. Beneath the pillow, Elain moaned again.

Then Elain reappeared on screen, fuzzy and overexposed, and she gave her audience a serious look as she said, “No, it’s a serious problem. It’ll ruin her career.”

The video ended, and Elain’s hand snaked back under the duvet as it looped.

And Azriel didn’t know what to say. How to comfort her. The video, her words, were so at odds with the girl he knew—the one who curated personalized thank you baskets for the gentler music critics, who spent months collecting odds and ends that reminded her of specific fans to send as gifts during Christmas, who had welcomed him into the Elain Archeron fold with open arms and a room of his own in each of her houses. Who frowned and switched the channel whenever the milquetoast love interest in her Hallmark movies was too mean to Lacey Chabert.

But…

But.

This was the same woman who’d thoroughly ruined the career of her ex in just three minutes and thirty six seconds. As a punishment for cheating on Elain, Graysen had been destroyed, his contracts for upcoming films going up in flames as his brand shifted from suave charmer to untrustworthy, douchebag manipulator the night Elain released her latest album.

The song was a heartbroken, melancholy thing, but Azriel knew how Elain sometimes had to hide a grin when she sang certain lines now that the worst of her heartache had passed. How she never once spoke Graysen’s name, not to prying interviewers and not in the privacy of her own home, but giggled when she was invited to premieres of the movies he should have starred in.

“She’s, like, such a slut!”

Azriel winced.

“I didn’t say that,” Elain whispered forlornly, her voice breaking. “I didn’t say it like that.”

…Christ. Of course she hadn’t. Cheating exes were fair game, but another woman? A fellow singer who had been nothing but friendly to Elain? Elain would sooner fall on her own sword than turn it on Cresseida.

“It— It’s doctored. Faked.” Her phone went silent, and Elain dissolved into more tears. “And they hate me. They all hate me. Look—”

Her phone appeared again, this time opened to her own Instagram, and she clicked through the photos one by one.

And cool, deadly wrath iced Azriel’s veins.

Beneath every photo, hundreds—thousands—of little, accusatory cartoon eyes stared out. Between the emojis, vitriol stained the comments sections black, and he tracked each one: Petty bitch. Liar. Whore. Slut-shamer.

Each one would be a shot through the heart for Elain.

And her fans, the few that appeared to remain, barely cut through the noise. Azriel sighed through his nose as he noted them, because there was nothing kind in their comments anyway. Only impatient, disappointed demands.

@elainarcheron please say something?!?

Come on @elainarcheron cut the cutesy shit and be real for once I’m trying to defend you here

WHERE IS NESTA YOU NEED TO DEAL WITH THIS PR GIRLIE @ladydeath @elainarcheron

“Where are your sisters?” he asked, gently as he could. They needed Feyre and Nesta—Cassian was on his way to help Azriel, but Elain needed Feyre and Nesta.

Feyre to distract her from the mess while Nesta fucking eviscerated the monsters dogpiling onto her little sister and figured out who posted the video—and sent that information to their legal team so Nuala and Cerridwen got a chance to pick through the gore she left behind and file the appropriate lawsuits.

“On a plane,” she told him miserably, and it was such a weak, pathetic sound that Azriel did reach out, daring to brush his scarred fingertips over the soft, unblemished skin of Elain’s hand. He lifted the phone out of it, turned the damn thing off, and set it on the bedside table.

He pulled his own from his pocket and shot off a message.

Azriel (11:56 PM): If anyone needs Elain, text me. Her phone is out of commission.

Rhysand (11:57 PM): Suspected as much. Monitoring the situation with N&C.

Azriel (11:57 PM): Good. Sisters?

Rhysand (11:58 PM): Flying home from Adriata. Feyre is frantic. She saw the video and called me from the runway when Elain didn’t respond. I texted you when I got no response also. Flight lands at 1 – I’ll have a car bring them there.

“Nuala and Cerridwen are on it. Feyre and Nesta are coming, too,” he told her. When he looked up, a red nose and bloodshot eyes were peering out from the pillow.

“How long?”

“Not until one. Maybe two.”

The sliver of Elain’s expression that he could see crumpled, and Azriel stopped resisting. He offered her his hand. She took it, grasped it like a lifeline, and pulled.

He could do nothing but follow.

She scooted backward, dragging her nest of pillows and blankets with her, and patted the bed once in silent permission.

Azriel stared at the spot she’d patted, at the floral sheets and delicate hands that haunted his dreams.

“Elain…”

“Az,” she begged, and the last of his restraint snapped.

He took the spot in her bed. He didn’t dare to lay down beside her, choosing instead to sit and lean back against her headboard. Elain didn’t seem to notice, or care.

She simply shifted her pillow and laid her head on his thigh instead, one of her hands clutching at the sweatpants covering his knee. Azriel focused on his breathing, knowing he was going to hell for the things he was thinking beneath the steady thread of worry for her, but settled a hand on her back between her shoulder blades anyway, where the worst of her still-gasping breaths rocked her.

When she looked up at him, there was no sign of the polished celebrity. No makeup on her pretty, tear-swollen face, her famously golden hair in a messy, unbrushed tangle atop her head, oversized flannel pajamas pants—his oversized flannel pajamas, he realized with a warm surge of affection—drowning her figure.

She was just Elain, a heartsick girl with two hundred million best friends who had all turned on her tonight.

Just Elain, the woman he loved.

Azriel lifted a corner of her blanket and wiped away the tears.

---

As you may know, this fic is a multimedia extravaganza. For edits of the characters' social media, posts, magazine spreads, album artwork, and more, check out the Hindsight tag on my blog!

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elain #azriel #a court of thorns and roses fic #acotar #my fics #hindsight #modern au #bodyguard au #celebrity au #(it's a taylor swift reputation era x her loyal bodyguard au)#a court of thorns and roses #elain x azriel #idk my tagging system isn't great which speaks volumes about my career i think #surprise! i wrote mutual pining today instead of my bloody elriel halloween smut! whoops

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dustjacketmusings · 5 months

Note

Hello from your secret santa! Checking in again - how are you doing today?

I would like to learn more about you and some of your preferences. I am still working on determining the right story for you.

What are some of your favourite modern AUs? Or things you have seen in modern AUs that you really like?

Do you have any theories or head canons about Nessian that you would love to see in a story?

You mentioned loving winter. What are your favourite things about winter?

Hello secret santa! I'm sure that I'll love anything you make, no worries. So answering these questions is hard 😅

I like a lot of modern AUs. Prick (tattoo artists) and A Favor (awkward/neurodivergent nesta) were two of my favorites. Lawyer Nesta comes up a lot which I enjoy, but isn't a requirement. I like it when writers have a niche thing they care about but don't think readers care about. I always care. Unhealthyfanobsession has a lawyer AU which was 90% her venting about niche law things and i was THRIVING. So I don't really know how to answer because I'm down for pretty much all modern aus. Musician? Yes. Actors? Yes. Olympic athletes? Also great. Nesta gets a dog and runs a marathon? Following it intently. The most toxic exes you've ever seen? I'm so down bad for them.

Hmmm. I don't really have any theories moving forward (though an I love you would be nice). Again, I like quite a lot, and read quite a lot of fanfiction. I do like it when cassian has to keep a secret for Nesta, but that doesn't come up that often in fics. Just you know, them against the world. Alternatively, they hate each other and them against each other.

The drinks and the food. Hot chocolate, tea, eggnog, mulled wine which I've never actually had but sounds great, peppermint everything, bailey's. And you know cozy stew and potato time. Carb load up. Dark eyed juncos come back north and all the blackbirds stop eating me out of house and home

#secret santa #these answers are not useful sorry #im a fervent enjoyer ill think its great #asks

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talkfantasytome · 2 years

Note

"they're such an idiot. My idiot but still" because there's nothing more Nessian than that fluff prompt let's be real

Ugh, I love this line! But I actually struggled with coming up with a story for it. So, I kinda made it a bit more passing, but also fluffed it up with Nesta's thoughts around it. Hope you still enjoy!

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie are getting matching tattoos before going out to celebrate with each other and their partners. Little does Nesta know, Cassian has a surprise for her once the evening ends.

Warnings: None; Except Fluff, but not overload...I think

Word Count: 2,776 | Read on AO3

Part of the Velaris Tattoo Parlor Series. Previous Nessian parts:

Don't Forget Your Orgasm | Did You Know You Have a Freckle? | Should I Text Your Boyfriend?

a/n: Only edited by Google Docs. 👀

Original Prompts Post

"And you're done."

Cassian pressed the tape down once more on Nesta's skin to "make sure it stuck". Nesta flashed him a knowing smirk, fairly certain he was also taking the opportunity for one last pass at the smooth skin just above her right thigh.

"Thank you," she beamed, buttoning and zipping up her jeans over the covered wound.

The minute her pants were done, Cassian slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "I can't wait to see it once it's healed," he whispered in her ear. His breath caressed the skin rimming it in a way that had Nesta shivering in his arms.

"Well, perhaps this summer you'll be lucky enough to see it at the beach."

A growl sounded in Cassian's throat as he tightened his grip around her, pressing her flush against his body. "I don't think I can wait that long, sweetheart."

"Oh?" She felt her smile grow as she brushed her hands up his strong arms until her arms were wrapping around his neck. "I suppose I could be tempted to give you an early viewing. For the right price."

Flashing her a half-smile, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. And just like always, it sent a thrill through Nesta that had her ready to kill for more.

"Booo! Gross!"

Nesta pulled away slightly and turned to see Emerie standing up from the table at Mor's station. She was pulling her leggings over a taped piece of gauze in the same spot as Nesta's.

"Well, Az won't let me tattoo Gwyn, what else am I supposed to do?" Cassian complained, his arms remaining around Nesta's waist even as she faced the others.

Azriel nodded as Gwyn took the spot Emerie just vacated. "And I stand by that."

"I'm curious, Az," Emerie started, a wicked spark dancing in her eyes. "Are you worried about Cassian? Or that Gwyn might prefer his touch? Because…well…Mor is just as interested in women as Cassian is…"

Azriel's face fell into a dark, flat look that had Nesta leaning back into Cassian.

"Okay, you two, that's enough." Gwyn was laughing softly on the table as Mor switched out the needles for new ones and discarded the old. "Az has nothing to worry about."

"He better not," Nesta murmured, pulling a quiet chuckle from Cassian. He had his chin resting on her head as he kept her in his arms, the man so ridiculously large that he was still just slightly bent over to make that contact, the top of Nesta's head just reaching his shoulders.

The buzzing of the needle filled the air and the conversation came to a lull, everyone trying not to make too much noise and distract Mor. So, instead, they watched as she worked on Gwyn, tattooing a small, waving ribbon with shadows swirling around it in the same spot Nesta and Emerie got their tattoos.

They were a matching set, three ribbons, each with an altered design based on the one who would wear it. It all started months and months before they'd ever stepped foot into Velaris Tattoo Parlor.

Gwyn was getting a PhD in Ancient Warrior Cultures, and her current focus of study was the Valkyries. They were an all-female military unit, fierce and feared. Gwyn shared some of what she learned with Nesta, and it inspired a new book idea for her, so the two started working and researching together. When they told Emerie what they were doing and why, she got so excited at the concept she joined just to learn more for fun. They were already best friends, but something about diving into this culture bonded them together. It was unbreakable. So they chose to get a tattoo to represent their sisterhood.

A ribbon. What a warrior would need to be able to slice with her sword to finish her training and become a true Valkyrie.

Of course, the moment Nesta mentioned the idea the three of them had to Cassian - just a passing comment about something they talked about - he jumped. He loved every bit of what Nesta had said and practically begged her to make sure she, Gwyn, and Emerie got the tattoos. Including a small threat about what he'd do if they didn't go to his parlor.

She debated it just so he could follow through on that promise.

Once Mor was done with Gwyn, they all went over to the bar just a few doors down, Cassian and Azriel going to get the drinks while the girls pushed two bar tables together and grabbed enough seats for the group.

"This feels so weird," Gwyn sighed as she hopped into one of the tall chairs. "Like I'm a different person!"

Mor laughed softly, scooting her seat as close to Emerie's as possible. "I love tattoo virgins."

Gwyn frowned and it had Nesta patting her leg softly. "It's okay, I know what you mean. I felt that way after my first, too."

"You sure it was the tattoo?" Emerie asked, wagging her eyebrows at Nesta.

"I still can't believe you're the girl that was under the blanket," Mor added. "You just don't seem the type - and I mean that as a compliment."

Nesta felt herself blush, even as she laughed with them. It was a bit ridiculous, and not something Nesta had ever done before. Yes, she'd had one night stands with people she'd just met, but those happened in her or the other person's apartment after a night of drinking and talking. Sex in a shop on the main street with someone she'd known for less than an hour…it had definitely been a new experience. Though, she couldn't say she and Cassian hadn't christened a few other areas of the tattoo parlor in the months they'd been together.

"I can. I knew that's exactly why she was going back." Emerie was grinning triumphantly toward Nesta. "However, now that I know him, I am a bit shocked he managed to keep you."

She motioned toward Cassian at the bar - he and Az likely still waiting on the girls' cocktails - who, right at that moment, lifted his beer to his mouth and spilled a solid splash straight down his front as he sipped.

Nesta's hand snapped to her mouth as she tried not to laugh too hard, even as the others cracked up. "He's such an idiot," she sighed, rolling her eyes, her smile bright and fond. "My idiot, but still."

Her eyes remained on Cassian as he attempted to mop up the spill with some napkins. He looked so adorable, clearly cursing himself for doing something so stupid, and Nesta realized just how gone she was. She'd never felt anything like it before. The giddiness in just getting to see him, the butterflies every time he came close, the safety when he held her tight. It had only been a few months since they'd started dating, but she honestly wasn't sure she could imagine her life without him.

Once he was done with the napkins, he looked up and caught her eye, sparkling hazel irises holding her gaze. He flashed her a dazzling, soft smile that had her heart racing as his eyes crinkled with the movement. And when he got back to the table, she found herself doing exactly what Mor had done earlier, and scooted her stool closer to him until their sides were flush against each other, his arm wrapped around her waist.

"Well, I think today deserves a toast!" Emerie exclaimed once all the drinks were handed out. "To our Valkyrie bond, as everlasting as these tattoos. And the friends who support us in our journeys."

The group cheered as they clinked their glasses and all took a sip.

"And to Nesta!" Gwyn added, holding her glass out again. "For sharing her birthday with us so we could all get them for free!" They all laughed as they brought their drinks together again.

It had been a small request. In trying to convince her they definitely had to get the tattoos, Cassian offered to do hers for free. Tattoos weren't the most expensive thing, but she was still making a name for herself as a novelist, only just able to afford her studio and a good quality of life. She didn't have much money to spend on a tattoo every few months. She'd been saving up for her first one for at least six. So, when he suggested that, Nesta was finally able to grow excited about the prospect.

Only, she wasn't the only one living a similar life. Gwyn basically lived off of student loans and grants. So, when they started to get more serious about the tattoos, Nesta asked Cassian if he'd be willing to gift her all three if they came in on her birthday. It was, in all honesty, the best way she could imagine spending it. Nesta didn't want a big spectacle, or any type of celebration really, just to spend time with her chosen sisters and Cassian.

He'd agreed instantly, and then asked if he could throw a party afterwards, which Nesta vehemently shut down.

That one toast was more than what Nesta needed, and her friends knew that. So the night moved on with no further mention of her birthday, much to Nesta's pleasure. They eventually ordered food, a few more drinks, played some pool, which Nesta dominated, as always. They watched Az and Gwyn engage in the most heated game of darts Nesta had ever seen. Gwyn won, and barely had a chance to hug Nesta goodbye before Az was dragging her out the door with a wild look on his face that told Nesta her friend would be in for a very fun night.

She and Cassian didn't stay long after that, offering their farewells to Emerie and Mor, who were content to continue grinding on the dancefloor. And then they were on their way to Nesta's, Cassian driving her car since he'd stuck to just two beers, both drunk far earlier in the evening.

Nesta led him up to her apartment, letting them both in and flipping on the lights. She went to go lounge on the couch, but Cassian's arms stopped her.

"Nu-uh," he said, pulling her back and pointing toward the bedroom area, which was also where the door to the bathroom was. "Go rinse your tattoo first. No soap yet. Just rinse, add some cream, and I'll tape it up again."

"Yes, dad," she groaned, rolling her eyes.

Cassian chuckled, finally letting her go. "I highly doubt most people's fathers are drilling proper tattoo care into them."

She lazily waved her hand at him and then went into the bathroom, leaving her purse and shoes on the floor by her bed.

It should have only taken her about three minutes to undress, put up her hair, and then rinse off. But it took at least two whole minutes just for the water to reach a lukewarm temperature, which was sadly what she had to use. Nothing too hot on the wound. So, it was over five minutes before she was in her bedroom, throwing on a large t-shirt and rubbing some cream onto her new tattoo.

Leggings in hand, she walked out into the common area, separated by two screens that created a makeshift archway into her bedroom. Cassian was on the couch, waiting, tape and gauze already on the tiny coffee table.

"All right, work your magic." She stood before him, lifting her shirt so he could reach the tattoo, savoring the way his eyes trailed up her bare legs, how they darkened when they reached the lacy red underwear she'd chosen to slip into.

"That has me wanting to work a very different kind of magic," he said, his voice guttural as he moved to be sitting on the table in front of Nesta.

Ever so gently, he brushed his thumb over the tattoo, checking the fresh wound and causing goosebumps to rise on her arms and legs from the feeling. Something he clearly didn't miss, based on the low chuckle he let out.

"This is already so sexy. I can't even imagine what it'll do to me once it's healed." He continued to stare at the ribbon, fashioned into a whorl similar in design to one of the types in his tattoo. Then he pressed a soft kiss to the skin just beneath it and it had Nesta inhaling sharply to steel herself.

He ripped some pieces of tape, hanging them on the side of his hand as he took a pad and placed it on the tattoo. Nesta's eyes fluttered shut as he started to add the tape, his fingers stroking her to ensure it stuck. It set her center throbbing, having his hands so close, but that wasn't something they could do that night. Tattoo artist's orders. Not that most would dictate such a thing, but he was worried if she moved her hips too much it could distort the design. Plus, Cassian was very serious about aftercare. All types of aftercare. Including after getting a new tattoo.

"You can lower your shirt, sweetheart," he laughed, now standing to put the tape and gauze pads into a drawer in the kitchen.

Nesta scoffed softly at the amusement in his tone. "Maybe I just like standing with my shirt pulled half up. Make sure the neighbors can see this cute pair of panties."

Cassian turned and leaned his butt against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms over his chest. "No one should be seeing your panties but me. Especially those."

She couldn't help but smirk, knowing she'd hit some mark. Nesta knew these, along with any pair that were a shade of red and lace, were Cassian's favorites. Still, she let go of the shirt and pulled on her leggings before flopping down on the couch.

"Should we watch a movie?" she asked, reaching for the remote when suddenly the lights shut off. Only the soft light from neighbors' windows and the moon lit the apartment through the one window that sat between the TV and the kitchen. She could barely see anything beyond the surrounding wall. "Shit! I know I paid my electric bill. Do you think it's the who-"

She cut herself off when she saw Cassian start to walk toward her, a cupcake in his hand with a tall, lit candle.

"Happy Birthday to you." His singing voice was more like a croak, cracking and straining just to sound musical.

"Happy Birthday to you." Still, a small smile spread on Nesta's face at the sound of it, the sight of him.

"Cassian, you don-"

"Happy Birthday, my sweetheart." Well, that had her rolling her eyes, even if her smile spread wider with each second.

He sat down beside her on the couch. "Happy Birthday to you."

Nesta sniffled, unable to hide the tears pooling in her eyes. Eyes she knew were sparkling just as his were, reflecting the flickering flame, turning into a full fire of passion and fondness and desire.

"Make a wish, Nesta," he whispered, holding the cupcake out for her.

She felt a pounding in her chest, a twisting in her gut, and something warm spreading through her that had a name she'd been so carefully avoiding. Yet, before she could stop herself, Nesta blurted out, "I love you."

Cassian's body stilled, his breath escaping him as his lips curved upward. And then he was on her, his free hand tangling in her hair as his lips crashed into hers for an unexpectedly soft and slow kiss. She melted into it, leaning toward him as he placed a second kiss to her lips before pulling away.

"I love you, too," he sighed, beaming down at her.

Nesta felt something swell inside her, as if a vital fragment finally found its place in her heart, like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle being fit into its spot. She kissed him again, resting a hand at the nape of his neck, but it didn't last long. Not with the two of them unable to stop smiling like idiots.

"Now will you make your wish? Before the wax ruins your cupcake."

She let out a small laugh and looked at the candle. She dramatically shut her eyes and took a deep breath. Knowing there was nothing she could wish for that would make her life better, she blew, the candle flickering out instantly and sending them back into darkness.

But when she opened her eyes, she found Cassian's again. Because nothing could stop her from finding him, from meeting his gaze.

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @sv0430 @confusedfandomslut @gwynrielsupremacy @katekatpattywack @moonstoneriver77 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @swankii-art-teacher @lemonade-coolattas @whoreforgwynriel @emily-gsh @my-fan-side @champanheandluxxury @sayosdreams @simpingfornestaarcheron @perseusannabeth @nesquick-archeron

If you'd like to be added to my tag list, let me know! 😄

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arinbelle · 2 years

Text

Made (Nessian Mafia AU)

A/N: In which I took forever yet again to update, and apologies first, this chapter is mostly filler for the next chapter. It is what it is. *shrugs* But! This does have that infamous scene in it that some of you kept asking about. Enjoy!

Warnings: Triggers for SA, violence, swearing

~*~

Part XI

“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.” - Paulo Coelho

~*~

Cassian stared at the box for a minute longer before standing up from his desk, leaving it behind. Azriel didn’t ask for an explanation to his silence but Rhys did.

“What do we do?”

“Nothing yet,” Cassian grunted, not in the mood to speak let alone think anything outside of the rage he was feeling. “I’ll be back.”

Rhys started at that. “I’ll come-”

“No.” He gave the order firmly, and there was no disputing it after that.

The box had come, earlier than expected, but it had arrived. There would be no avoiding it now. A few hours later, he got out of the car, nodding to his driver, and walked into Beron’s estate.

Not that he was surprised to see him, Cassian still fought off the irrational lick of anger that dragged down his spine and urged him to pummel Eris’ stupid, pretty face into a bloody pulp.

Eris’s serpentine smile made his skin crawl with the desire to burst out of himself and forget who he was and what he was responsible for, and just hit. His hands were itching for a fight, especially when he remembered just how much more Eris had than Cassian in that moment.

Nesta.

He had tried to ignore the memory of what they’d done in that bathroom, at a dinner to celebrate her wedding to another man no less. The way she’d screamed, moaned, as she went slick around him, and how right it had felt. How perfectly he’d fit in her and how well she responded to everything he threw at her. The way she gave him everything back too.

She was perfect and made for him, and if they weren’t who they were in this life, they would have been together long ago.

“So, did you get the present as well?”

Cassian didn’t bother talking to him, only looking at Beron who murmured something to a man he didn’t recognize, and then dismissed him.

“Well, did you?”

Cassian fought the urge to also roll his eyes at his Boss, because then he’d probably have to pay for it in a painful way that would only take up too much of his time.

“Yeah. I got the hand.” A very bloody hand in the box, still attached to a wrist with the Cosa Nostra’s sigil tattooed on it. A clear and cut call out to all of them.

“We got a tongue,” Eris supplied, grimacing, as if the memory was gruesome even to him. Maybe pretty boy didn’t like dealing with the messy side of business. Good. He’d always known Eris was a boy playing dress up in this world.

“Did you shit your pants when you saw it?,” Cassian sniped, reveling in the jab that would undoubtedly prove stupid eventually.

Eris volleyed back, “Suck my dick, asshole.”

Cassian leveled him with a glare he’d learned from Nesta. “No thanks. I like my meat seasoned.”

Beron finally shouted at them to stop, but Cassian could have sworn he heard a muttered, colorful swear under Eris’ breath.

“Any ideas on who it could be?”

Cassian scoffed. “The Irish, obviously. I don’t know any one else in this territory that wants to pick a fight so badly with us.”

“We didn’t do shit to them,” Eris insisted, stalking over to a small table to the side of the room and filling a cup with amber liquid.

“Tamlin’s family might disagree. Just because we didn’t do it doesn’t mean they know that or will care. He died on our territory. You know it looks like we’re involved.” He gave a pointed look to Beron who seemed to be considering his words better than Eris was. He was careful to not mention anything else about Tamlin, in case he accidentally let slip jut how involved he actually was in the death. Or worse, how Nesta had started it all.

“Tamlin didn’t have family,” Eris objected.

This time though, Beron interjected. “He had strong bonds with his men. They were going to vote him into power in a few years. His relatives were dead but he had a strong family in those people. I don’t think we can expect anything good from a war with them in his name.”

The first time Beron actually spoke something truthful and useful. Cassian hated him a little more for it then.

“Get your men on it. I want patrols on our cargo doubled. Make sure the risky runs are done by you or your brothers. I don’t want some low level petty criminal fucking up our work. And deal with this shit before my son’s marriage.” With that brusque order, Beron was gone, his bodyguards shuffling as the followed him out.

“Want a drink?” Eris held out another cup, sloshing at the bottom with amber liquid and Cassian accepted it after a few moments of suspicious silence.

It burned as it hit the back of his throat but Cassian clamped down on the urge to spit it out, and swallowed. Eris eyed him knowingly and he knew exactly what the prick was thinking about. So Cassian drank the rest of the of his drink in one last drag, putting the glass down on the table with a bit too much force.

“You’re on edge,” Eris noted, walking over to the chaise and draping himself over it like he was already some sort of ruler.

“You would be too if your territory was the largest one to deal with. But last I checked Eris, you just play lapdog to daddy until he needs you to go out and make appearances.”

Eris gritted his teeth. “You know nothing about what I have to do to keep my territory and my people safe. I have family too you know.”

Cassian grinned, but there was nothing kindred in the motion. “Oh I know all about your protection. How well you take care of your mother for instance.” Eris’s hands tightened around his glass, the white of the knuckles almost glowing, but he didn’t retort back. So Cassian went on. “And I’m sure Mor would agree too- you take very good care of your people.”

Cassian could almost see the hiss that rose in Eris as he seethed. “You don’t know shit about that day. Don’t come in here acting all high and mighty when you don’t have all the facts, you-”

“I don’t need them,” Cassian interrupted. “The scars on Mor’s body are more than enough facts for me.”

“I didn’t touch her.” Eris’ eyes went vacant. Something like regret seemed to course through them for a moment, and Cassian almost asked if he really meant it. But he kept himself quiet, pulling out his phone and typing out the brief message.

“I texted Azriel to get on top of the cargos. I’ll be at the docks personally each night. Will you come?”

Now it was Eris’ turn to grin. “I have a wedding coming up. I’m not going to risk getting shot at your usual shitshow cargo hauls. I don’t think my bride to be would be too happy about it.”

Eris had no idea what actually made Nesta happy but just the mere mention of her from his mouth had him tensing up.

“She’s here somewhere, by the way,” Eris said, gesturing wildly behind him. “I don’t know specifically which room, but she’s having designers go through her dress fitting with her.”

Cassian nodded, getting ready to go, ignoring the ache in his chest that began spreading. He hadn’t seen Nesta in the two weeks since that disastrous meet up with her at the dinner party. It had been silent on both ends, and Cassian had resigned to accepting her choice even if it didn’t sit right with him. But her being in such close proximity, without being able to see her, touch her, taste her...it cut at him to the very core.

“The bathroom, if you need to use it, is straight down the hall,” Eris added with a scowl. Cassian only furrowed his brows at him, ignoring the strange statement, and picking up his jacket. It was only when he reached the door that Eris spoke again. “Although I don’t think Nesta will fuck you in this one today.”

Cassian froze with his hand on the doorknob. How the little fucker even knew...

He’d been so selfishly stupid, and he cursed inwardly. There were eyes everywhere. Anyone could be bought off. Anyone could be sold secrets, and Cassian wasn’t being careful.

To deny it would make him look stupid but to admit could possibly jeopardize Nesta. But Cassian had always been a fighter. Always ready to throw the first punch before he was pummeled into the ground, and this was no different.

So Cassian turned around to a smug looking Eris.

“You really are as stupid as they say.”

The insult rolled right off of Cassian. “And you’re just as spineless as I thought you were Eris.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter does it? She’s here with me, not you. So good luck at the docks tonight. I’d be careful of course, and if anything does actually go through that thick head of yours, you would too. But don’t worry, Nesta will be safe with me.”

Cassian raised a brow. “Is that a threat?” Cassian wasn’t afraid if it had merit or was as empty as every other proclamation Eris liked to make. He was a seasoned fighter and his men were loyal to the end. Even if Eris was stupid enough to have something planned against Cassian, it wouldn’t work.

“It’s a promise,” Eris splayed out his hands, as if offering peace with the mocking tone he’d taken on. As if he were talking down to a child. Cassian’s temper was already fraying and Eris needed to only push him a little further to see how good Cassian could make promises of his own. With his fists no less.

“I promise you Cassian, Nesta will be taken care of with me tonight. I’ll make sure we get to know each other better. Maybe even better than you? I tend to prefer beds to bathrooms but we’ll see what the lady prefers.”

Cassian caught onto the double meaning right away and the insinuation, the fucking balls on the motherfucker, had Cassian rearing up to fight. But he kept cool, turning his voice to ice instead of the fire he tended to prefer when lashing out.

It would do him no good to resort to violence before it had been brought to him. A good Capo thought before acting rashly, and while Cassian didn’t enjoy any of what Eris was dishing out, it was just words at the end of the day. And words could be met equally with wit. Or threats, which was what Cassian preferred anyways.

“I don’t appreciate people touching my things without permission. Especially not cowardly little snakes like you.”

Eris wasn’t ruffled. “She’s not your anything last I checked.”

Cassian took him in. The swagger, the disdainful grace. All of his prettiness and refinement that Cassian resented him for. For being everything that Nesta could benefit from and everything that she deserved to be with. They’d make the perfect pair too, at least on paper and in all the tabloid photos.

Nothing like Cassian.

But Cassian smirked, taking in that perfection that Eris capitalized on so well. Remembered the bite that came from Nesta’s teeth and nails when he fucked her, the cruel, lashing of her tongue when he pissed her off. How she fought and snarled and hissed every time she was wronged. And above it all, how utterly strong she was.

“She’ll eat you alive, Eris. I for one, can’t wait to see it.”

Cassian didn’t wait for another response, already out the door and meeting his driver at the entrance.

The driver was new, thanks to Rhys’ paranoia that Cassian may be a target and getting too cushy with just one driver was dangerous. It was also why his bodyguards around his house and the ones that tailed him sometimes were now on a rotating schedule that only Rhys or Az were aware of the night before. He’d told them both that they were being worried about nothing, that he could handle himself, and that he was perfectly safe.

That had been before the maimed body part had appeared on Cassian’s doorstep, somehow passing through his security and perimeter around his house.

Rhys hadn’t said anything as he’d left them in his office that morning, but the knowing glint in his eyes had been enough for Cassian to know not to argue about the matter any further. He’d become lax and the shortsightedness had cost them a good man. He’d need to make sure to make the rounds to his wife and children before the week was out. And arrange funds to take care of them.

“Where to boss?” The thick Brooklyn accent that greeted him had Cassian feeling at home already with this new driver. He hadn’t minded the old one, but considering he had been some ex-White House bodyguard from D.C., originally from Texas, there had been little to talk about between them.

“Home,” Cassian told him, thanking him a moment later. Cassian was in the process of opening up a string of texts from Azriel when the car jerked to a halt, sending Cassian careening forward sharply. What he saw out of the front glass was more shocking than the sudden stop they’d come to. A bit welcome to, but Cassian didn’t think too much about that as he undid his seatbelt.

~*~

Nesta tapped her foot impatiently against the gravel as Cassian got out of the car. He waved his hand inside, murmuring an order too low for her to hear, and she watched as the driver nodded and put the car into park.

Cassian made his way towards her, taking in the fact that she was blocking his car in the middle of the road with only her body, so boldly it was bordering on suicidal. But there was no reaction on his face at her stunt.

"Yes?," he challenged, smirking at her with wicked intent.

Bastard.

Nesta opened her mouth, steeling herself for whatever he may respond back with. Straightening her spine and lifting her chin defiantly before accusing him.

"I heard you in there," she told him.

No reaction.

"Heard what you said to Eris," she amended abruptly, hoping to catch him off guard. But Cassian had long since learned to not fall into her traps.

"And?" He quirked a brow at her with cool amusement.

Nesta stepped forward until her face almost brushed his chest and she could smell the cologne she'd often let herself get too carried away with remembering. His hazel eyes glinted with nothing but predatory glee but she would not lose to him this time.

"I don't care what you think you're doing or what you plan to do. All I know is that you need to back off. Let's get it cleared up right now- I am not your thing."

Cassian cocked his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "No?"

Faster than she saw coming, Cassian's hand shot out and wrapped around her throat, pulling her face closer as he leaned down.

The proximity had her reeling, after so much distance had been put between them. Distance she had put between them and had regretted every hour since. Memories of their last meeting still clouded her mind during almost every waking second. She’d missed the heat of his body, the weight, and while the sex had been fantastic as it always was between them, there was something more there. She’d missed him so much it had hurt. And then, just like that, he was gone as quickly as he’d come, leaving her confused for the rest of the dinner, where she’d sat mostly quiet and burdened by her thoughts.

Cassian's hand didn't hurt her. Nor did they tighten or squeeze. He'd done it before, when he fucked her, and she'd liked it enough to allow it. But it was too possessive for her to allow anymore, no matter how much she secretly relished it inside

Cassian's finger brushed past her neck, tracing the tiny tattoo she had behind her ear. The sign of his crest. His insignia. The same one he had on his chest, only smaller and less visible.

Nesta knew what was coming- the call out she was about to get. She had no idea how he'd known it was there there. She'd been so careful to keep it hidden from him, yet once again, there wasn't much Cassian didn't know about when it came to Nesta.

"You wear my mark, bella. Of your own volition I might add. You're not my thing you say?" Cassian's free hand wrapped around her waist, pushing her closer into him as he nipped at the tip of her ear, before backing up to look at her agin.

“No,” Nesta maintained, but the confidence was slipping. She’d been caught, the proof a literal brand of ally-ship to him, etched permanently into her skin. “What do you care anyways? I’m getting married in two days. It’s not like you’ll be there.” She’d checked the guestlist every morning on her laptop, hoping the number would change and she would see Cassian’s name RSVP’d in as well.

It had never changed.

“Do you want me to be there?” There was nothing kind in the question. Harshly spoken between the shared space between their mouths, Nesta could practically taste the derision.

“I don’t give a shit what you do, as long as you don’t fuck this up for me. This wedding is important.”

“Why? Because Nolan said he’ll free you from your debts if you go through with it?”

How he knew, who exactly had talked, Nesta had no idea, but she kept her breathing under control. “Why are you asking me if you know everything?”

Cassian’s breath came out strained. “He’s going to screw you over, somehow. Don’t trust him.”

“What is my alternative, Cassian? I was blindsided by this proposal, yes, but it solves all my problems. Why are you trying to ruin freedom for me?”

“Because this isn’t freedom. It’s actually the complete fucking opposite. How do you not see that?”

Nesta pushed against him, and he let his hand drop from her throat, settling it on her shoulder instead. Still an embrace that could get them both into serious trouble if anyone saw, but Nesta had more pressing concerns.

“I know exactly what it is. Stop trying to teach me as if you know better than me. I get that you’re a Capo and everyone else falls at your feet for advice and shit, but that’s not me. I don’t need your advice and I don’t need you to save me.”

“But do you want me to?,” Cassian asked, eyes wild suddenly as if he himself hadn’t realized the force of the words he’d spoken until they’d left his mouth.

Nesta shook her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

Cassian brought his free hand up to trace the side of her face. Dragging over her cheek. “You don’t need anyone to save you, baby. I’ve known that from the first day I met you. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have someone there to do it. Do you really want this wedding? Tell me yes right now and I’ll drop it forever. Tell me you want an entire life of him, and I will cheer with everyone else when you say I do.”

She couldn’t. Nesta could feel her throat constrict as the urge to cry suddenly overwhelmed her, and it took all of her effort to not break down then and there.

“I signed a contract,” she finally managed to say.

Cassian shook his head, and the black strands, more unruly than she’d ever seen them, bounced around his face. “We have lawyers, that’s not a problem. And that’s also not an answer.”

There was only one answer she’d grant him, even if it tore her inside to not admit the truth. The truth that if she could have her way, she would go back to all those months ago, when Cassian had all but confessed how he felt about her and she’d turned him down. If she were allowed a redo, she’d accept everything he gave her, giving him all the love she’d denied she felt for him back.

Nesta leaned up on her toes, pressing her lips to Cassian’s, letting herself luxuriate in the feel of his mouth on hers for the few seconds she’d let him. She was the first to pull back, as soon as he snaked a hand down to her hip and pulled her closer.

“I’m not yours to save,” she whispered against his lips. Cassian looked at her bewildered but then he was leaning forward again. For a moment she thought he would try to kiss her, and damn it all, but she knew she would let him.

Instead, Cassian's breath was hot against her ear as he whispered into it. "Every inch of you has been claimed by me.” His finger traced the tattoo behind her ear for good measure. “You are mine. Today. Tomorrow. Ten years from now. A ring and a wedding doesn't change shit about it. You would do well to remember that yourself.”

Before she could retort, bite back in any and every way that she knew how, Cassian let her go just as swiftly. He was to his car before she’d calmed her breaths and driven off far into the distance just as soon.

Nesta took a few moments to compose herself before going back into Beron’s home.

She didn’t know if anyone had seen their tense exchange but since the wedding was only days away, Nesta also didn’t care. She didn’t give a shit about what happened to her anymore as long as the debt between her and Nolan was settled. After that she’d have time to think through her situation. Maybe even plan an escape with enough time since the weight of her debts and constant call always from Nolan would no longer exist.

She sent the designers away within minutes after spending nearly hours nitpicking tiny details about her dress and makeup. Because while their presence earlier had been a welcome distraction from not thinking too hard about the impending day she had coming, now it would just serve as an irritant.

Nesta thought about Cassian’s hands. How they’d felt around her throat, his chest against hers, and that toe-curling heat that resounded between them. She’d wanted to kiss him the moment she saw him. Go after him in his car and run far, far away from all the bullshit around them.

In another world maybe they’d have time. But not this one.

“The dress is lovely,” Eris noted, hanging in the doorway of the room she’d been given to stay in for the week. It was considered improper for an engaged couple to live together before marriage and so the decision had ultimately been made for Nesta to stay under Beron’s roof. Seemingly neutral territory as nothing could occur between her and Eris that was considered improper. Little did the families know, and likely Eris too, that Nesta wasn't the blushing virgin everyone expected her to be.

Tomas had seen to that, scaring her enough to get into bed with a man as soon as she had been free of him. Trying to rid herself of the feel of his hands roving over her body and the fear that came from men sizing her up as their next meal.

Nesta had become the predator instead, become the one in control rather than ever letting anyone ever have power over her like that. When they had become hungering wolves, she’d become a lioness, and none had ever been able to match her, let alone tame her.

Until Cassian of course.

How would Eris react, she wondered, if he ever found out about Cassian and every filthy, debauched thing she’d let him do to her. Had welcomed him to do, over and over until there was nothing but harsh breaths and only his name left in her head. No doubt, the wedding would be called off immediately. And-

“Nesta?”

Nesta looked at Eris, and realized he had asked her something, but the words had flown right over her head.

“Sorry, did you say something?” She flashed a sweet smile that would have made Elain proud. “I’ve been out of it lately. It’s this wedding planning.” She threw in a girlish laugh to sell it further. Eris had no idea who she was, what she was capable of, or who she could be. And the less prepared he was for her, the more she could use it to her advantage.

Eris smirked entering the room, shutting the door behind him. Nesta tensed at that, at the memories it conjured of another night with a different man, but she tried her best to keep the pasted smile on her face in place.

“Did Cassian wish you congratulations?”

Nesta raised her brows but kept the same reserved expression in place. Happy but not excited, gentle but not emotional. She had no idea how Elain did it so well. “Yes, he did. Thank you for asking.”

Eris nodded. He moved closer, taking in the dress she still had left on her bed. “It’s beautiful. I know it’s probably not what you had in mind for your wedding, but it is lovely. And I’m sure you’ll love just as wonderful in it.”

Nesta shrugged her shoulders casually. “No, I like the dress. It’s exactly what I had in mind.”

Eris lifted his chin, almost in defiance to her. “Really? Because from what I understand, Cassian isn’t impartial to white, only red. Although I guess, even if you were his bride, you would still be wearing white.”

Nesta schooled her features into her regular mask of disdain. The shock of Eris’ jab, what he clearly knew all about, all faded away as he sat down on the bed, settling casually right beside the dress.

He dragged a hand down the beaded material and it made Nesta want to throw up. “Let’s get some things clear.”

His amber eyes flashed with irritation as he roved them over her body. Not with lust or interest in the way most men her entire life had done. No, this examination left her feeling more colder, more hollow, because it was all cruel calculation.

Where most men saw a vessel to fuck, Eris assessed her by how well he could use her and their marriage to his advantage. No doubt to likely become the new ruler of the Cosa Nostra. She decided that Eris’s gaze was far more deadly in that moment.

“I don’t care about Cassian, or whatever you two’s convoluted past is. I do care if you continue fucking him after we’re married. I plan to take over for my father soon.” He didn’t say by force but Nesta knew enough about the power plays that had been in the works for a while, especially in New York. “It would be...untoward for my wife to continue an illicit relationship with a man who would end up being competition when the seat for Boss opens up. So, if you want lovers, I don’t care as long as you’re discreet. And when the time comes, you bear me children. But Cassian is out of this for good.”

Nesta didn’t say a word. Didn’t give him anything more to work against or manipulate. Eris got off the bed and stalked over to her. He didn’t touch her, didn’t even come too close for comfort. But suddenly the room felt too small with him in front of her and the ultimatum he’d thrown at her.

“And if you don’t listen Nesta, this wedding is off. I can always go for one of your sisters if need be. Last I checked, they aren’t the ones that owe debts to Nolan.”

Nesta sucked in a harsh breath and Eris smiled smugly. “Yeah I know all about that, so I’d stay in line if I were you.”

When Nesta again didn’t give any clear answer, Eris gripped her chin in a stern grip. “Do we understand each other, Nesta?”

Nesta nodded, already decided on breaking Eris’ hand as soon as they were married, as payback.

“Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and she suppressed a shudder. There was no emotion in it again. No lust. No ulterior motive to bed her. Worse, it was carefully planned out, as if Eris had been ready to talk to her about his demands, and had planned out how he would leave her as well. To any outsider, it would look like a loving fiancé saying goodnight to his bride to be before bedtime.

Nesta found sleep elusive long after Eris left her, and she was only left with thoughts of Cassian and the inevitable catastrophe that was bound to happen in two days time.

~*~

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Epilogue

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

***

Eleven months later

Rhysand,

I’m leaving this letter taped to your desk because I know you won’t bother reading it otherwise. Sorry—this didn’t feel like something that could be said over email.

I can’t begin to count the number of times you’ve saved my life over the past two decades. From when your mom first took me off the streets and you let me share your room, to when you pushed me to go to Italy because you could see that I needed the space.

Since the day I joined Night Court Inc. I’ve worked tirelessly to pay you back. The long hours, taking on multiple projects at once, doing jobs outside of my jurisdiction, all have been to pay you back. Not because I felt like I had to, but because you deserved it. You were—and are—an amazing boss and brother.

Which is why it’s so hard for me to tell you that I’m leaving.

Not forever, obviously. Just for a year, maybe more if I feel like it. Think of it as an extended sabbatical.

Nesta is graduating soon, and there’s a lot I want to do with her before she takes the Bar and starts her career. Firms are already lining up at the door to employ her, so she’s hot real estate, you know?

Anyway, the two of us have this bucket list of places we want to see before we die, and while becoming a full time attorney isn’t really dying, it’s pretty close to it in my book. She’s not in it for the money, either, so you just know she’s gonna end up in some ugly gray cubicle doing thankless pro bono work (which I love her for).

I’m rambling. My point is, we’re heading straight for the Pacific Northwest after her graduation. I want to see those cute little woods from Twilight. After that, who the fuck knows.

Just be warned that my phone will probably be off for the next twelve months, but I’ll be sending postcards. Don’t be too mad if the company struggles to survive without me; I’m sending in a temporary replacement who I think you’ll really love.

I have one question to ask you before I go, though. I want to say it here so I don’t have to risk crying like a pussy if I say it to your face:

Will you be my groomsman?

Your brother in crime,

Cassian

***

Gwyn and Emerie wake tangled in a pile of limbs and sheets. Groaning, the girls push themselves up from the bed—no, that’s hardwood, and blink around at their surroundings. They’re sprawled across Emerie’s bedroom floor, the space littered by empty cans. Late morning sunlight streams in through the single window, making Emerie wince in pain.

“What did we do last night?” Gwyn groans, batting her tangled auburn hair out of her face.

“I wish I could remember,” Emerie grumbles. Her dark eyes catch on a dark marking on her left knuckle, and she goes to rub it off.

She hisses a wince when she touches it and pulls her hand back. “What the…”

Gwyn takes notice of her own middle finger knuckle and squints. “Are these...tattoos?” she says groggily.

“We got matching tattoos? What the hell is this even supposed to be?” Emerie demands. She waves her hand around like it’ll give her answers. “It’s just a V.”

Gwyn uses her half-sober brain to think as hard as she can about what she and Emerie have in common that starts with V. “V for…vagina?”

“V for Valkyrie.”

The girls jump at Nesta’s voice, finally taking notice of her sitting against the wooden dresser.

Nesta, who hates drinking and was unfortunately completely sober for the events of last night.

“We were watching a documentary about Norse culture and mythology,” Nesta goes on, her tone informative and straightforward. “Gwyn was drunk off apple schnapps. You, Emerie, had an entire flask of vodka all to yourself in celebration of your final night as a law student.” Nesta uncrosses her legs and delicately gets to her heeled feet. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t the Norse doc that made you want to get matching Valkyrie tattoos. It was watching Thor: Ragnarok right afterwards.”

“You were sober the whole time and you let this happen to us?” Emerie fumes.

“If I had a mom she would totally kill me for this,” Gwyn whimpers, clutching her newly tattooed hand.

“Oh, it could have been worse, ladies,” Nesta says. “It was going to be much, much worse, but since I was nice enough to look out for your dignities and pay for your tattoos, I convinced us all into getting something small, cheap, and unnoticeable.” She holds out her own left hand, where a dark V sits inked onto a knuckle. “See? Nothing that could scare off our future employers.”

“Aw, you matched with us?” Gwyn practically makes heart eyes, but Emerie bats her arm aggressively to get her to shut up. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something important right now?” Emerie demands.

“Oh, right. We graduate from Prythian School of Law in…” Nesta holds out her wrist and checks her watch. “One hour.”

“Fuck.” Emerie scrambles to her feet, nearly slipping on the way up. “Fuck fuck fuck!” She eyes Nesta’s fully dressed figure in disbelief, heels and blazer dress and sleek hair and all. “You got ready without waking us up?”

“You made your decisions, I made mine.”

Emerie clearly doesn’t have the time to be upset with Nesta, because she’s already speeding toward the shower in a storm of curses. Gwyn chases after her shouting, “Let me shower with you!”

Left alone in the bedroom, Nesta huffs a quiet laugh to herself. Her thumb grazes against the fresh tattoo on her middle finger, and she turns on her heel to clean up the place before they leave.

***

In the end, the winner of Nesta and Emerie’s three year long academic rivalry is Emerie.

Nesta is buzzing with excitement while filming her friend’s valedictorian speech, only dropping her grin when she has to send death glares to graduates that try to stand in the way of her camera. And even though Gwyn is waiting on the other side of the amphitheater with the rest of their friends and family, Nesta can practically hear her squeals from where she sits too.

The weather today feels like a reward for all the hard work Nesta’s done the past year. The sun shines but it doesn’t overheat her, and a cool breeze comforts her as she waits for her name to be called. Not even spending half the year sleeping in an empty bed could stop her from finishing out law school with the highest honors.

When it’s Nesta’s turn to walk the stage and receive her JD, she almost falters at the cheers that erupt from a certain section of the seats.

Straightening her shoulders, she strides to where the dean waits, shaking his hand and accepting her degree. She flashes a glance of irritation toward her guests to let them know that she hears them perfectly fine. That only makes them cheer harder, and Emerie almost jumps Nesta on her way back to her seat. “You did it!” She flings her arms around Nesta’s neck. “Goddammit, you did it!”

Nesta lets out an unrestrained laugh and hugs Emerie back tightly. “You’re next, babe.”

Hearing the announcer finally say “Emerie Nikolis” is almost as exciting as when Nesta heard her own name being called. It makes the rest of the ceremony dull in comparison, mostly because Nesta hardly cares about the rest of her peers. She still isn’t that great at getting along with others, she supposes—more like certain people came into her life with a lightning strike of luck, and they chose to stay. She chose to keep them.

After the ceremony ends and people begin filing out of the amphitheater in lines, Nesta looks around everywhere for a glimpse of Emerie in the sea of people. She wants to bask in their shared success as soon as possible. Instead, she ends up getting caught in a crowd of fresh law grads also searching for their friends and families. Black robes create a blur around her, and her senses itch at the feeling of being trapped, trampled before she can even make it out of the venue—

A warm, broad hand wraps around Nesta’s robed waist, pulling her close and creating a barrier between her and everyone else.

Without a word, Cassian uses his hulking size to create an opening in the crowd, edging people out of the way until they’re out in the open air again at the entrance of the amphitheater.

Offering him a grateful smile, Nesta hobbles onto the curb that runs along the overflowing parking lot. Her feet are asleep from sitting in a hard chair all morning, but she stands steady again when she catches sight of them: Gwyn and Emerie and her sisters, with the rest of their friends and family trailing behind them.

Cassian gives her waist a squeeze before nudging her toward them. In an instant, Nesta is swarmed by a flood of congratulations and gifts, not knowing which way to look or who to pay attention to.

A heavily pregnant Feyre shoves a bouquet of white calla lilies into her arms, and Elain follows with a potted succulent. “Elain grew them herself, but I helped pick them out,” Feyre tells her proudly.

“Thank you,” Nesta manages to say with a grateful smile before her attention is stolen by Azriel, who tugs at her sleeve like a kid wanting attention. “And what did you get for me?” she asks him.

He offers her a smile and two thumbs up. “My love and affection.”

Gwyn smacks him in the arm with a wrapped present and glares. “You’re so cheap. I told you not to come if you couldn’t get anything.”

Azriel rubs his arm in disbelief. “Just put my name on whatever you got!”

She hits him with the present again. “Shut up.” She hits him a third time. “You’re a terrible friend.”

“That’s enough, you’re gonna hurt it,” Emerie snaps, wrestling the gift out of Gwyn’s hands.

Azriel looks grateful if not a little surprised at Emerie coming to his defense. “Thanks, Em.”

“I was talking about this.” Emerie holds up the paper-wrapped gift.

Nesta furrows her brows, wondering who the present is for. It could be for Emerie, since she seems to be carrying no other graduation gifts in her hands—something that instantly concerns Nesta. “Where are your flowers?” Nesta asks her. Surely someone remembered to get Emerie flowers.

Emerie points to her car parked not too far away. “Over there.”

Nesta shouldn’t have worried. Emerie’s beat up car looks like a makeshift garland shop, piled from hood to trunk with flowers, stuffed animals, and edible arrangements. Of course; Emerie has always been more popular than Nesta.

“Oh, I can see my flowers from here!” Mor exclaims with a hand above her eyes, sidling up to Emerie’s side. Nesta keeps her mouth firm against the amused smile that wants to form at Mor’s attempt to get Emerie’s attention. If there’s one thing Morrigan doesn’t know, it’s when to give up.

“Oh really?” Emerie plays along. “Which ones are they?”

“The basket of yellow tulips. Aren’t they pretty?”

“I see.” Emerie pouts at Mor with mock disappointment. “Too bad I’m allergic to tulips.”

Nesta accidentally lets out a cackle when Mor’s face drops, and then quickly shuts her mouth in apology.

Cassian chooses that moment to intervene, dropping a hand onto Mor’s shoulder and tugging her away. “Let’s let the girls have their moment,” he says, shooting a look to his brothers. They get the hint. Az frees Nesta’s hands of her gifts before he and Rhysand each take the arm of an Archeron sister and begin to lead them away, giving Nesta and Emerie and Gwyn some privacy.

Elain’s elbow meets sharply with Azriel’s ribs as they walk away, making him curse and nearly drop Nesta’s bouquet. She says, “Oops, thought I saw a bug.”

“Why is everyone going for me today?” he demands.

Gwyn watches them go over her shoulder, and Nesta sees a spark of concern in her eyes for Azriel’s hurt rib. Then she waves a dismissive hand and mutters, “He’ll be fine.” She turns back to the girls and grabs Emerie’s sleeve. “Give her the gift, give her the gift,” she pleads, bouncing up and down on her toes.

Emerie shakes Gwyn off and snaps, “Give me a second.” She straightens out her wrinkled gown sleeve with a scowl.

Nesta’s brows go all the way up into her hairline, her curiosity finally piqued. “That’s for me?” She nods to the present. It’s shaped like a book or maybe a journal, both options that excite her. She can buy pretty books and fancy journals any time of the year, sure, but getting them as a gift will never turn boring.

Emerie huffs and holds the present protectively to her chest. “It was supposed to be a birthday present,” she says.

“From two birthdays ago,” Gwyn interjects, her teal eyes bright. “Em and I came up with the idea after the ski trip, but by then it was too late to get it ready by your birthday.”

Nesta does the numbers in her head. “It took you guys fifteen months to get this ready?” If she sounds skeptical, it’s because she is.

Emerie shrugs. “Gwyn is a slow…” She trails off at a warning look from Gwyn and amends, “She has her art blocks.”

Gwyn snatches the present from Emerie and thrusts it into Nesta’s hands like she wants to be rid of it. “Here. Open it fast, we can’t wait any longer.”

Gwyn claps her hands together in excitement, but Nesta’s own hands are wary as they wrap around the gift. It’s hard and smooth beneath the wrapping. Definitely a book, and longer than her usual reads.

Nesta’s smile is small as she tears off the paper. “What kind of book takes over a year for you to get?”

She falls silent as the last of the paper falls away, answering her question.

Gold lettering stamped against a deep blue binding stares up at her. The book is beautiful in its simplicity, the title declaring:

THE ADVENTURES OF LADY NESTA

“What’s this?” she whispers.

“I did the writing and Emerie helped with the plot and the manufacturing. We’re a two-woman publishing house,” Gwyn explains, throwing her arms around Emerie.

Nesta carefully opens the book in her hands, not knowing what to expect within the pages.

There are words, obviously. Black ink on off-white paper organized into sentences, and sentences organized into paragraphs. But one word stands out the most among the page she opened up to. Her own name.

“To the valiant Sir Nesta of House Archeron.” The warrior lord raised his cup toward her. The others toasted in suit, “To the valiant Sir Nesta!”

“So it’s a fantasy set in medieval times, kind of like Camelot but not actually Camelot,” Gwyn babbles while Nesta stares at the book in her hands. “And you’re a lady-in-waiting who’s part of the court of a tyrannical king, but you also secretly moonlight as a knight, and you’re also a sorceress, and sometimes you’re a murderer—and the whole time, Em and I are like your super hot magical sidekicks. I’m going to warn you now, though: I did use real people’s names for this, and your character does have graphic sex with Cassian’s character multiple times. If real life Cassian ever learns of the existence of this book, however, I will have to kill him and then you—” She pauses for a big breath.

Emerie stops her right there with a hand to her mouth. “Okay, that’s enough, don’t spoil the whole damn book.”

Nesta looks from Gwyn and Emerie to the book, back to Gwyn and Emerie. “You guys…wrote smut about me in a fantasy setting? And then you had it printed and bound?”

“It’s not like we enjoyed it,” Emerie says defensively, lifting her sharp chin. “It’s a staple of the genre. We figured you wouldn’t read it without any romance.”

“There’s more than smut, though,” Gwyn promises. “There’s magic and power struggles and adventures that test your loyalty and bravery. Give it a chance before getting mad.” She looks worried, afraid that Nesta might actually hate it.

Nesta laughs aloud, but the sound comes out all odd. Her voice cracks when she says, “Why would I be mad?”

“Are you—crying?” Emerie sounds concerned.

Nesta shakes her head, overwhelmed with a feeling she can’t even name. It’s more than joy or awe; it might even be more than love. She focuses back on the book to distract from her tears, opening it to the title page. In smaller print beneath the title are the names of the authors.

Gwyn Berdara

Emerie Nikolis

Nesta then flips to the last page and finds the number on the bottom. 405 pages.

“You wrote all of this about me?” She didn’t even know there was that much to say about her. She laughs tearfully again. “How did you two even come up with this?”

Gwyn shrugs like it’s nothing. “We mostly just wanted to give you something that shows you how we see you.”

Emerie adds in a gentler tone, “We think you’re brave, and smart, and elegant and sometimes scary, and…” She looks to Gwyn. “We were inspired.”

“The heroine’s story might be exaggerated, but it’s basically you, Nesta,” Gwyn says.

Nesta’s eyes start stinging again, and she blinks furiously to keep the emotion away. It’s bad enough that Cassian and her sisters and their friends are pretending not to stare from a distance.

“Check the spine.” Emerie nudges her softly.

Nesta follows her directions and flips the book over. Instead of the title engraved along the hard edge like most books, there are three emblems along the spine. A dagger, a music note, and a book. Matching the charm bracelets each of them still wear today, even though Nesta’s bracelet is dangerously on the verge of falling apart. It only has a few wears left to it before she’ll have to store it away somewhere safe, Nesta being too attached to the cheap purple thread at this point to replace it.

She runs her fingers over the spine in awe, unable to comprehend how much time and labor and money it must have cost her friends to create such a beautifully crafted book. “But… I didn’t do anything for this gift,” she tries to say. “I didn’t even get anything back for you guys.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Emerie assures her. “Consider it a gift for existing. And don’t even think about paying us back,” she adds in warning.

“I’m going to pay you back,” Nesta deadpans. She turns to Gwyn with immeasurable pride in her eyes. “I can’t believe you wrote my favorite book.”

“You haven’t even read it yet,” Gwyn laughs.

“It’s my favorite book,” Nesta repeats. “Thank you.” The words are an understatement; she’s going to sit down and read every page three times as soon as she gets home.

A loud cough suddenly interrupts their moment, and Nesta slides her eyes past the girls to where the rest of the group waits. Azriel looks irritable at Gwyn being away for so long, while Feyre is taking pictures of the three of them like she’s capturing a historical moment. Everyone else is attempting not to look like they’re eavesdropping from where they stand.

“Let’s get back to the group,” Emerie says, taking one of Nesta’s and Gwyn’s arms in her own. “I heard your rich brother-in-law promised everyone overpriced sushi after this.”

“Just because he’s married to my sister doesn’t mean you should call him that,” Nesta scolds as they make their way back to her family.

“Everyone finished crying like little girls?” Rhys asks when they arrive.

Nesta gives a pointed look to Emerie that says, See my point?

“Let me see what you got.” Feyre huddles near her to get a closer look at the book, while Elain pretends to be disinterested but still takes a peek over Feyre’s shoulder.

Despite the claustrophobic feeling of being surrounded, Nesta opens up the book to show her sisters the contents.

While Feyre oohs and ahs over the gift, Azriel says, “Here, take these while you’re at it,” and shoves Nesta’s flowers and potted succulent back into her arms.

She just barely catches them before they fall, her arms now overflowing with gifts.

Before Nesta can be attacked by any more people, Cassian appears and places a firm hand at her back, steadying her balance. “Nesta and I will leave first,” he says in his smooth voice. “Race you to the restaurant.” He throws up a short wave in goodbye and begins to pull her away from the group.

Nesta whooshes out a breath of relief as they leave and mutters, “Thanks.”

He says nothing in return, but Nesta feels his hand tighten imperceptibly around her waist.

***

The group watches Nesta and Cassian go in a mix of suspicion and wariness. It’s silent for a long moment before Elain finally throws out, “Do you think he’s going to do it?”

“No way,” Feyre says. “He wouldn’t do that without telling us, right?”

Mor shakes her head. “No fucking way. It’s Cassian.”

“It’s also Nesta,” Emerie rebuts. “He won’t tell me anything about what he has planned, if he even has anything planned.” The rest of the group murmurs in agreement.

Rhys grumbles aloud, “After abandoning me at the company with Eris Vanserra for the next year, he better not be planning anything without telling me first.”

Gwyn huffs out a sigh of frustration. “It keeps me up at night wondering when he’s going to propose.”

“You sleep fine,” Azriel mutters from behind her.

“It also keeps me up at night wondering how long I’m going to be stuck with you.”

He tucks her arm into the crook of his elbow. “Forever, Carrots.”

Elain forces a polite smile at the show of affection, and then turns abruptly to Rhysand. “I hope you’re also paying for drinks.”

***

“You drive.”

They’re the first words Cassian has said to her face all day, accompanied with a toss of the keys to his truck.

Nesta catches the keys, her arms free from the gifts that now sit in the back seat of the truck. “Really?” she says.

“Yeah.” He’s too nervous to even speak, much less drive with his trembling hands. He takes a deep breath to collect himself and goes over to the passenger side, getting in before he can overthink things.

It was bad enough being torn apart by jealousy while watching Nesta receive Gwyn and Emerie’s book—not that he wasn’t wildly happy for her and the girls, but that it was a sad reminder that Cassian couldn’t give Nesta a gift as well.

He had had it, the perfect gift: a finely crafted music box with a ballerina that spun gracefully when you opened it. He was going to place the ring on the dancer’s outstretched arm for Nesta to find, and now…

Now the music box lies in a hundred pieces in the trash, crushed during an aggressive Nerf gun fight by his reckless brothers.

Rhys apologized—and has been apologizing—profusely for the mistake, but it doesn’t fix anything. Cassian has no gift to celebrate Nesta’s accomplishments, so he can only hope that his words will do the heavy lifting today.

“Nesta.”

“Hm?” She takes her eyes off the road to glance at him.

“Congratulations.” He feels so fucking lame for not having anything more to say, but for her it seems to be enough. A slow smile lifts up the corners of her mouth as she says giddily, “Thank you.”

Cassian shakes his head at the way she shines from his one word. He’s got to get her standards up with this proposal.

“Take a left on this road.” He nods ahead.

Nesta frowns. “Why? I thought we were getting lunch?”

“I need to get something from home first.” He’s not technically lying, but he feels all sneaky like a liar would.

Nesta’s defenses are lower than ever today, because she doesn’t question him once before turning left onto the road that leads to the cabin. It must be that she’s in a good mood—and Cassian is reminded that he could either make this the happiest or the worst day of her life.

They’ve discussed their future together before, but it was always some distant musing, not something that could happen today or tomorrow. Cassian won’t dare to assume what Nesta’s answer will be. He can’t know until he asks.

They pull up to the cabin and get out of the truck, and Cassian wordlessly holds his hand out for the keys. Nesta hands them to him as they walk up to the door. “What do you need to get?” she asks.

“You’ll see,” he promises with a wink. He unlocks the front door and throws it open, walking in first without looking back.

Hearing Nesta’s heels on the hardwood following him inside, Cassian goes off on the search for her ring with a pounding heart.

***

Nesta stops in the middle of the living area, raising her head to admire the fairy lights strung up all around the cabin. Fresh flowers sit in brand new vases everywhere she turns, and the scent of something rich and sweet wafts its way through the house. The only thing it’s missing is a trail of rose petals and some candles. “Did you do all this for me, Cassian?” she calls out laughingly.

Cassian doesn’t reply from wherever he disappeared to down the hall, but Nesta doesn’t mind. She trails an absentminded finger over the back of an armchair, feeling oddly bittersweet.

The cabin has transformed so much in the past year alone, with Nesta and Cassian bringing new things in and throwing old ones out, decorating and redecorating until they found a style that suits both their tastes.

A record player that only ever plays one vinyl is now situated permanently in the corner of the living room, put there by Nesta when Cassian was still in Milan and the only thing that could ease how much she missed him was music. There were times during those months when it felt like she couldn’t survive without him here, times when she couldn’t focus on any of her studies because of how his absence clanged through the cabin.

So she filled the cabin with other people, and she filled it with herself. By the time Cassian returned from Italy, there were little traces of Nesta everywhere: in the deep blue curtains in their bedroom, in the pictures of Gwyn and Emerie at pole dancing class in the entryway, in the beautifully shaded coloring pages stuck to the fridge doors.

He had left her alone, but she never became lonely.

Nesta slips off her graduation gown and carefully folds it over the back of the couch before finally following that warm scent into the kitchen.

There on the middle of the island sits a freshly baked chocolate cake. It towers over platters of other sickeningly sweet desserts, all of them favorites of Nesta’s: triple chocolate chunk cookies, chocolate chip pancakes, chocolate and pistachio macarons.

Written on the cake platter in decorative icing are the words For My Favorite Attorney.

Nesta huffs a quiet but awestruck laugh to herself. “I’m not an attorney yet, you idiot,” she says aloud.

“But you will be.” Cassian’s voice makes Nesta jump. She whirls around to find him standing at one of the kitchen entryways.

“You’ll be the best in town,” he continues, taking a step closer, “and soon you’ll be the best in the state. And before you know it you’ll be hounded by people asking for your expert legal opinion in their cases.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at him and mutters, “If I even pass the Bar at this rate, you mean.” Everyone and their mother has let Nesta know what a terrible mistake it is to go on vacation for a year before taking the Bar. She’s only been a law school graduate for a few hours and she can already feel the information she worked so hard to learn filtering out of her brain; where will her skills be in twelve months’ time when she finally takes the exam?

Nesta knows all of this, and yet…when Cassian first brought up the idea of taking a year-long sabbatical dedicated to traveling, she didn’t hesitate for a moment before saying yes. All ration and reason flew out of her brain and was replaced with one singular desire: to see the world with Cassian.

“You can study on vacation,” Cassian reminds her, coming up to her side and brushing her hair over a shoulder. “You will be studying on vacation, if I have anything to say about it. That’s what this is for.” He nods to the cake and the words written in icing.

He has a point. Nesta turns back to the cake and frowns, taking a closer look at the sloppy frosting work and the attempt to decorate the top with Oreos. “Did you make this yourself?”

“I did,” Cassian says, looking proud and nervous at the same time.

“It looks like you saw one of Elain’s cakes and then tried to recreate it from memory.” Realizing that she sounds too harsh, she belatedly adds, “…Sweetheart.” She doesn’t know if that works to soften the blow or not.

Cassian lets out a real laugh, and she notices some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Try it before you say anything else.”

“Right now?” Nesta’s brow furrows. He put so much time and effort into the array of desserts before her, Nesta thought there would at least be more fanfare before she was allowed to eat anything. Maybe a photoshoot.

“I made it for you, didn’t I?”

If he insists. Nesta swipes a fingertip through the words For My Favorite Attorney and holds it up to Cassian’s lips. “You first,” she orders.

He obeys without second thought, clasping her wrist and bringing her finger to his mouth. He suckles the icing off with a flick of his tongue before pulling away. “Just what I thought.” He licks his lips. “I’m an amazing baker. See for yourself.”

He means for her to try the cake, but instead, Nesta gently takes hold of Cassian’s jaw and brings her mouth to his. His lips part in surprise beneath hers, and she sweeps her tongue into his mouth to taste the lingering icing. She pulls away a long moment later and whispers, “You’re right. Better than Elain’s.”

When he doesn’t respond, Nesta leans back even farther and looks up into his awe-struck face. She worries for a brief moment that she did something wrong. “What are you thinking?”

Cassian’s throat bobs. “I’m thinking…that you look so beautiful today.”

Was that it? Nesta chuckles and starts to move back, but Cassian catches her wrists and keeps her in place. “I’m thinking that I want to see you like this every day,” he goes on. “I want to hear your heels clicking on the floor after a long day at work, and I want to make you dinner every night, and I want to help you choose your clothes the next morning.”

Nesta’s answering smile is small and confused, but he’s not finished.

“I’m thinking I want to raise a living being with you, whether it’s a fish or a whole kid.”

“Cassian…”

“Most of all, I’m thinking that you are my first love.”

Oh.

“And now I’m asking you to be my last.” He lets go of her hands to pull something out of his pocket and place it on the island beside them.

The small box, opened to reveal a delicate ring of gold, sits between them like an offering and a truce. He isn’t shoving it in her face, but rather letting her know that it’s there if she wants it.

Nesta isn’t stupid enough to say that she’s never thought about this. That she hasn’t already considered proposing herself, only to push the idea away out of baseless fears and what-ifs. The potential of change terrified her too much to try anything risky.

She was planning to finally grow a pair during their vacation and ask Cassian the question he deserved to hear, but it’s too late now—while she was waffling around, he beat her to the chase.

Nesta looks from the ring to Cassian, her face blank except for the emotion burning up her eyes. “When did you decide this?”

When was the moment he realized he wanted her until old age and death, in the most binding manner possible? When was the moment he got tired of calling her his girlfriend and decided he would rather call her his wife?

Cassian is unfazed at her deflection. “The moment I got back from Italy last December, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg you to marry me.”

Fair enough; she wanted to marry him in that moment at the airport as well. “Who else knew you were going to propose today?”

“Nobody,” Cassian answers with a rough voice. “I couldn’t tell anyone else because—it’s you. You deserved to be the first to know. I also knew everyone would want to watch it happen, and a public proposal is your biggest nightmare.” He tries to laugh and fails.

He knows her too well.

“You have a lot of questions,” Cassian says, meeting Nesta’s eyes with gentle defiance, “but you still haven’t answered mine.”

“And what question is that?” She needs to hear the words out loud.

“Will you marry me?”

It’s the easiest answer Nesta has ever given. “Yes.” She blinks away tears and repeats, “Yes.”

And just in case her fiancé has telepathy, she thinks Yes yes yes yes yes.

As Nesta pulls Cassian in for a kiss deep enough to cement her answer, sunlight streams into their shared home like outstretched arms, welcoming the beginning of the rest of their lives together.

***

a/n: around 116K words later, we finally did it!! but mostly i did it. im too exhausted for words rn, and it sucked to have to write this epilogue i loved so much while my mental state wasn’t at its best, but … who cares! i finished my first not-book ever!

nesta and cassian and everyone else are far from gone, so if you’re gonna miss them keep your eyes peeled for future stories set in this world :) love u all so much, and as always, thank you for being my first readers.

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

#ncssianwrites #a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian fic #nessian au

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houseofhurricane · 3 years

Text

ACOTAR + Crescent City Fic Masterlist

Multi-Chapter Fics

Rules for Spies: While Azriel and Gwyn work to free Koschei’s captives, attraction turns into something more. Some chapters NSFW. Complete. (Gwyn/Azriel, some Mor/Emerie, Nesta/Cassian, Elain/Lucien, and Vassa/Jurian)

Bloom & Bone: Elain lies about a vision and winds up as the Night Court’s emissary to the Spring Court. Some chapters NSFW. Complete. (Elain/Tamlin, Vassa/Lucien)

To A Nightingale: Gwyn Berdara, an up-and-coming reporter at the House of Wind, is given an assignment most journalists would kill for: exclusive access to the Bat Boys as they tour to promote their new album. Modern AU. Some chapters NSFW. Complete. (Gwyn/Azriel)

ACOTAR One-Shot Fics

aren't you scared? (well that's just fine): Gwyn and Azriel at the Night Court's first Samhain party. At least one of them has a crush. NSFW. (Gwynriel, a hint of Emorie)

as the heart grows bolder: How Helion and the Lady of Autumn fall in love, despite everything. (Helion/Lady of Autumn)

the beginning of everything: After the war, Gwyn and Azriel are sent on a diplomatic visit to the lantern festival at the Autumn Court. They've been circling each other for years, though, and a night together is all that's required to kindle the spark between them. NSFW. (Gwynriel, an appearance by Eris Vanserra)

games without frontiers: Azriel and Eris, in the Autumn Court at the winter solstice. But who has the knife? NSFW. (Azris)

gold in the shadows: After spending a month apart from Azriel on a solo mission to the continent, Gwyn receives an invitation to their favorite bookstore on the night before solstice. Many gifts are exchanged. NSFW. (Gwynriel)

hearts bring back the light: The war is finally over, and Nesta Archeron spends solstice figuring out what comes next. (Nessian, and a little Gwynriel, Emorie, Elucien, Feysand)

like we dream impossible dreams: It's Starfall, and Elain and Lucien's avoidance and awkwardness turns into something else entirely. NSFW. (Elucien)

the pilgrim soul in you: A missing-moments Vassien fic covering ACOWAR, ACOFAS, and ACOSF, in which, after a while, Lucien and Vassa fall in love. NSFW. (Vassa/Lucien)

a poisoned knife between the ribs: Gwyn returns from a mission, thinking of all the things she hasn't had the opportunity to do. Azriel is open to exploring all the possibilities with her. NSFW. (Gwynriel)

seer, blind your eyes: Maybe they're trying to hide from their rightful futures, or somehow save each other. Regardless, neither Azriel nor Elain can stay away. NSFW. (Elriel)

write your own ending: Elain decides that she needs to learn to protect herself in the face of the coming war. Only, the minute she goes looking, she finds Gwyneth Berdara in the library. Things do not go as planned. (Gwynlain)

yes and yes and yes: Gwyn is ready to have sex with a male, and she asks Azriel. To give her time to think it over, he tells her to wait until after the Valentine's ball at the river estate. This may have been a mistake. NSFW. (Gwynriel)

ACOTAR Snippets

Azris hallway hookup

Elucien pregnancy reveal

Emorie domestic fluff

Gwynriel pregnancy reveal

Gwynriel discuss That Necklace

Gwynriel Thanksgiving

Gwynriel Halloween (aka: the snippet that started my Gwynriel obsession)

Crescent City One-Shot Fics

morning breath: What if there had been something more than friendship between Bryce and Danika? And what if it had started before they'd even had their morning coffee?I'm just saying, it might have been glorious. NSFW. (Bryce/Danika)

we could be anything: What if Ruhn had met Agent Daybright at the Equinox ball? They might have gotten a beer, for starters. NSFW. (DayNight)

when the stars throw down their shields: The war is over, and so Ruhn and Lidia get matching tattoos. (DayNight)

All fics are also available on AO3. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, please comment and let me know. Thanks for reading! 🧡

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darling-archeron · 2 years

Note

Hi! I'm kind of new to the fandom and I'm looking for good Feysand fics. Do u have any reccomendations for fics/authors? 🍓

Welcome to the fandom! I've read so many amazing fics by so many amazing people over the years, so this list will by no means be comprehensive, but I'll do my best and it'll definitely get long anyway! I hope I didn't bother anyone by tagging them because I'm not mutuals with everyone on this list.

@illyriantremors on both Ao3 and Tumblr has some of the best fics I've ever read. Unfortunately, they left Tumblr and the fandom several years ago, but they have some serious gems. Some of my favorites include a nearly-complete rewrite of ACOMAF from Rhys's POV, and my personal favorite feysand fic of all time, Beneath the Stars, (And its sequel, Between the Stars!) which is a fantastic modern AU.

@quakeriders on both ao3 and Tumblr has so many good one-shots and some multichapters that live in my head rent-free! One of my faves is her demon!rhys AU; and if i get burned, at least we were electrified.

@writtenonreceipts on both ao3 and tumblr has a lot of great fics with really interesting premises. If you're into throne of glass they also write quite a bit for that fandom!

@themoonthestarsthesuriel on both tumblr and ao3 has so much amazing writing! Their fic The Bet was such a wonderful ride.

@mmvalentine on both ao3 and tumblr writes fantastic feysand AUs. I'm still working my way through a lot of their writing, but their tattoo artist au The Bargain is terrific.

@the-lonelybarricade/TheLonelyBarricade on Ao3 has so much amazing writing for a variety of ships! I recently devoured her A Court of Faded Dreams, which is a really unique concept involving Feyre being sent back in time to the beginning of ACOTAR.

@bookofmirth/ABookandACoffee on Ao3 is one of my favorite sources for levelheaded and sensible opinions in this mess of a fandom, and she is also a talented writer! Her fic Turning A Page is so well written, and she has quite a few oneshots for a variety of ships including Feysand.

@arrowmusings on both ao3 and tumblr has a lot of great content that will absolutely destroy you in the best way possible I promise.

@live-the-fangirl-life has so many wonderful feysand fics, as well as a lot of throne of glass writing if you're in that fandom.

@thesurielships has a ton of feysand fics that I adore! If you're a swiftie she has an evermore songfic collection.

Another writer who left the fandom and is also now inactive (to the best of my knowledge) is @sarahviehmann / sv_you_know_who_I_am on Ao3. Before ACOWAR came out they wrote their own version called A Court of War and Starlight that I personally haven't read, but it was immensely popular around the time. Their modern AU My Fair Warrior is really well done as well.

Since you're familiar with my blog, I'm guessing you've already checked out my writing if any of it interested you, but I'm WordsAndWishes on Ao3.

I also went down by bookmarks list on Ao3 and picked out a few of my favorite fics.

Dear Darling - penpal AU!

Going for Gold - Olympic AU - this one does focus more on Nessian but there is plenty of feysand goodness, also a lot of great sisterly relationships.

It's Nice to Have a Friend - Incomplete but a gem! A Modern AU

The Castle of Dreams - Feyre ends up as a tutor for Rhys's sister who just so happens to be a princess.

Don't Look Back - a hs AU that is so much fun and an absolute ride!

What Happens Under the Stars - feysand finds healing together in a modern au. Feyre and Rhys and their journey are written in a very unique way that I love.

If You Hold Me Close - fake dating at an elucien wedding!

Nox Industries - Rhys is a CEO and Feyre applies for a job at his company.

I just know I'm forgetting a ton of people but I hope this is a good starting place!

#kate talks #acotar #fic rec #feysand

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Life As We Know It {Prologue}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both Shelby and I’s blogs! >> @snelbz

We hope you all enjoy. :)

Cassian knew very little about Nesta Archeron, but he knew one thing for certain: she was hot as hell.

He had sworn he’d never go on another blind date, but Rhysand had begged, over and over again, for him to go out with the eldest sister of his girlfriend. So, to shut his brother up, Cassian agreed.

Reluctantly, but nonetheless.

He took a quick shower where he bathed himself in a new bottle of body wash before stepping out and towel-drying his hair. Considering Nesta was Feyre’s sister, he felt the need to make a good first impression, although he wasn’t sure what a good impression was to Nesta Archeron.

He was hoping he was sufficient enough.

He dressed in his usual attire of jeans and old boots, but decided to wear a button up for once, rather than one of his go-to t-shirts. Still, he pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed his keys before hurrying out the door.

He typed the address Rhys had texted him into his gps, seeing the drive was going to take him nearly twenty minutes longer than he’d anticipated, thanks to an accident on the interstate.

He swore under his breath, throwing his truck into motion. He hurried across town and parked in front of Nesta’s townhouse, fifteen minutes later than he was supposed to. Flipping down his sun visor, Cassian ran a quick hand through his loose hair and was heading up to the front door, knocking twice.

Or he would have, if the door wasn’t pulled open the second his fist made contact with it.

Suddenly, in his jeans and leather jacket, he felt extremely underdressed.

Nesta Archeron wore a beautifully fitted dark blue dress that fell only a couple inches above her knees. She wore heels, and her hair was curled. A silver clutch was gripped tightly in her hand.

She eyed Cassian, from the top of his head to his toes. For once, even though he was half a foot taller than she, even in heels, Cassian felt smaller than shit.

“Hey,” he said, at last, once the silence became unbearably awkward.

“You’re Cassian?” she asked.

“Were you expecting someone else?” he shot back.

Nesta’s lips thinned. “You’re late,” she said, instead.

“At least I came,” he grinned. “Hungry?”

Nesta took a deep breath as she lifted her chin. “I suppose so.”

“Good,” he said, gesturing toward his running truck. “Let’s go. I made reservations.”

She locked her door and followed him down the sidewalk. “Are we going to be late for those, too?”

Cassian elected not to answer her, pausing at the passenger door and opening it for her. He let out a sigh as he rounded the truck to his own seat.

Something told him this was going to be a long night.

He was absolutely right.

Not a single word was said on the way to the restaurant across town, and, by some grace of the Cauldron, they made it on time for their reservations.

They were set at a table by the entrance quickly, and once their server arrived, Nesta ordered a glass of wine, while Cassian stuck with his usual beer.

“So,” Cassian began, clearing his throat as they waited for their drinks to arrive. “What should I know about you, Nesta?”

“That’s it?” she asked, brow raised. “That’s the question you’ll begin with?”

Cassian’s head fell to the side. “What question should I have gone with?”

Nesta took a moment to look around the bustling restaurant. “Well, you’ve yet to tell me how beautiful I look, or ask me how I’m doing tonight.”

Cassian couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fine. You look nice. How are you?”

Nesta snorted. “Well, I waited twenty minutes for my date, thinking he wasn’t coming. Other than that, fine, I guess.”

“You don’t do this often, do you?” Cassian asked. There was nothing accusatory in his tone, just simple curiosity.

“Do what?” Nesta asked, the words nearly clipped.

“Date,” Cassian replied, simply. “Go out with someone for the first time.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No. I don’t particularly have a lot of free time to waste.”

Cassian’s eyebrows rose at her choice of words. “You don’t have to be here, you know?”

The server quietly returned to the table, setting their drinks down, before hurrying away, sensing the tension between the two. Nesta’s eyes didn’t leave him the whole time. She picked up her wine glass, taking a long drink, before she asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you clearly would rather be anywhere but here,” Cassian replied, leaning back in his seat. “I’d hate to waste your time.”

She was about to reply when a voice came from their left.

“Cassian?”

He looked over his shoulder to find an old friend - a term that he used very, very loosely.

Tanwyn and he had a very complicated relationship. They were friends - at least, they had been at one time. It had all become very complicated the first time he had invited her into his bed.

And the second time.

And the third.

And every time after that.

He smiled at her, almost hesitantly. “Hey, Tan. What are you doing here?”

“Here with some friends,” she grinned, approaching their table. “And you?”

“Here with…” Cassian’s voice trailed off as he looked across the table. “This is Nesta Archeron. Nesta, this is Tanwyn-.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nesta said, words clipped. “If you’ll excuse us, we’re on a date.”

She blinked, taken aback at Nesta’s cold greeting. “Right… Sorry to interrupt. I’ll see you later, Cass.” She nodded to Nesta. “Nice to meet you.”

She was gone before Cassian could say another word, and he looked at Nesta incredulously.

She raised her glass before putting it to her lips. “So when is the last time you slept with her?”

Cassian was stunned, shaking his head. “She’s a friend, there was no reason to be rude.”

“My question still stands.” Nesta folded her hands on the table, her eyes on Cassian’s.

“How do you even know-? What are you, a psychologist?”

“No, I’m a chef,” she said, glaring at him. “But you show everything on that pretty little face of yours. It was easy to read.”

He closed his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. “We just need to…start over. This is all going wrong.”

Nesta stayed quiet before finally nodding. “Fine.”

The server picked that time to return, the two of them ordering their food, and the awkward first date conversation began again.

“I have to be honest,” Cassian began. “I’m not sure where to even begin.”

“Your name would be fine,” Nesta said, sipping from her glass.

Cassian watched her for a moment to make sure she was serious before saying, “Cassian Nazari. Childhood friend of Rhys’.”

“And your occupation?” she asked, in all seriousness.

“I’m a bartender,” Cassian said.

Nesta stared at him for a moment before asking, “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously, and before you make any judgements, bartenders make damn good money,” Cassian said.

“Interesting,” Nesta said, watching him intently.

“Right,” Cassian muttered. “Now, will you give me some insight into you or should I beg?”

Nesta rolled her eyes before saying, “I’m Nesta. And, yes, lie I said, I’m a chef. I’ve got a little restaurant in the Square”

“That sounds…interesting,” he said, repeating her words. “And your Feyre’s sister?”

“I am,” she said, pausing as the server brought out salads and she began to eat hers, without any dressing.

Cassian, on the other hand, nearly drowned his in ranch dressing. He watched as she ate her plain lettuce. “That looks…boring.”

“Salad dressing is fattening. It negates all of the goodness of the salad.” She took another bite, chewing and looking at him, then his salad swimming in ranch. “You look like you take care of yourself, I’m surprised you don’t watch what you eat as well.”

He scoffed. “I work out, but I’m not going to be miserable and eat rabbit food.” He gestured to the bowl in front of her.

She rolled her eyes, but continued to eat her rabbit food.

Silence grew between them but neither of them attempted to break it. It wasn’t until their main courses arrived that Cassian nodded toward the cursive ink on the inside of her wrist.

“You have a tattoo,” he said.

She eyed the ink that swirled around his arms, up beneath his rolled up sleeves. “I have a few,” she confessed.

“What are they?” he asked, starting to cut up his steak.

She took a bite of her salmon, chewing it slowly before deflecting his question with one of her own, “What are yours?”

Cassian glanced down at the swirls and marks of black ink that covered his forearms. “They’re Illyrian tribal marks. They all mean something different, but I would be lying if I told you I knew what every one of them meant.”

Nesta snorted. “Then why have them?”

Cassian met her eyes. “My mother was Illyrian. I grew up in Illyria, with her tribe.”

It seems the answer nearly took her back, but she ended up nodding, curtly. “How is your steak?”

“Too done,” he said, shrugging as he took a bite. “I like my meat red.” Her nose crinkled slightly. He asked, “What?”

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t eat meat.”

He blinked and watched as she took another bite of salmon. “You’re…eating fish.”

An eye roll was her reply. “I don’t eat red meat,” she clarified.

“So you’re a vegetarian?” He asked.

“No, I just don’t like to eat red meat. Chicken, pork, fish,” she gestured to her plate. “I like that. But I just prefer not to eat red meat.”

“Hmm.” It was more of a non-answer than anything, but before she could say anything, a man appeared, standing next to their table. Cassian glanced up at him. “Can we help you?”

He wasn’t looking at him though. He was looking at Nesta, who was pointedly not looking at him.

“What are you doing, Nes?”

She took a drink of her wine, draining the glass. “This doesn’t concern you, Tom.”

“Bullshit,” he spat. “We take a break and less than a month later, you’re on a date?”

She finally looked at him. “We’re not on a break, I broke up with you.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “Is this where all exes gather?” He looked around again to see if he saw Tanwyn, but she was gone.

“Leave,” Nesta said, plainly. “I can’t enjoy my dinner with you standing over me like the controlling bastard you were in our relationship.”

Cassian’s lips nearly fell open.

The woman had balls.

He respected that.

“I hate to break up this little reunion, but this is awkward as hell,” Cassian muttered, popping a spoonful of garlic mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Tomas said, looking to Cassian, using Nesta’s own words.

Cassian chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll give you two choices here, Tom. Either I call someone to take your ass away from our table or I make you leave, myself.”

“Tough guy, huh?” Tomas asked, putting a hand on Nesta’s shoulder.

Nesta brushed his hand off the second it made contact with her skin. “This is ridiculous. I’m calling over the server. We’re leaving.”

Cassian was inclined to agree. This date had been a catastrophe so far, but he was hopeful that maybe if she invited him in, he could salvage it.

Tomas seemed to take the hint, looking back to Nesta. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll talk about this entire situation then.”

She flagged down the server, but said to Tomas, “Don’t waste your time or mine.”

He walked away, muttering something under his breath, but the server returned and after a quick explanation from Nesta, she was off to get their check.

“Well, that was awkward,” Cassian said, clearing his throat, taking a drink of his beer, planning to finish it off.

“No more awkward than running into your fuck buddy,” she replied, pulling her lipstick out of her purse to re-apply it.

Cassian managed to swallow the mouthful of beer before he spewed it all over her. He coughed quietly. “You don’t tiptoe around anything, do you?”

Her answer was curt. “No.”

The server returned, standing the check book on the edge of the table, and Cassian elected to let the conversation drop at that. He reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet.

And froze.

It wasn’t there.

He checked every other pocket he had on him.

Nothing.

“Fuck,” he breathed, patting himself down.

Nesta arched a brow. “Issues?”

“I have to run out to the truck,” Cassian said, quietly. “I can’t seem to find my wallet.”

Nesta froze from where she sat behind her half-eaten salmon. “You forgot your wallet?”

“It’s probably in the truck-.”

“I didn’t see it in the truck-.”

“Then the glove box, maybe,” Cassian snapped. “Just, give me a minute.”

“Don’t bother,” Nesta bit, reaching across the table to grab the check.

Cassian got to it first and held it outside of her reach. “I can pay for it. I took you out, I’m paying.”

Nesta scoffed. “Spare me your holier than thou male bravado.”

Cassian stood. “I just need to run out to my truck.”

She was on her feet, snatching the check book from him and looking at the total. Without another word, she reached into purse and laid down a series of bills, before closing it and heading for the door.

Sighing, Cassian followed her, his cheeks heating. Never had he let a woman pay for his dinner, and he’d sure as hell never let her pay for the first date.

He didn’t say a word as he unlocked her door, opening it, and closing it after she’d climbed in. He rounded to his own door, immediately looking around the cab for his wallet. It was nowhere to be seen. He reached across, opening the glovebox, pulling a few things out.

His wallet wasn’t one of them, but Nesta didn’t fail to notice the gold foil wrappers. And how many he had. She scoffed, buckling her seatbelt and looking out the window.

“I’ll pay you back,” he said, after he’d started the truck and had pulled onto the main road.

“No need,” she snapped, staring out the passenger side window. “Dropping me off and leaving me the hell alone will do.”

The words were barely audible. She spoke the words under her breath. And yet, Cassian felt them like a slap in the face.

He was mortified.

He was at a loss for words.

He just wanted to go home.

He also wanted to make a move on Nesta Archeron.

There was something about the head-strong, independent woman that made Cassian swoon.

Not that it stopped the car ride back to her home any less silent and awkward.

“You’re Feyre’s sister,” Cassian said, randomly.

Nesta blinked, looking toward him. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No,” Cassian said quickly. “It’s just that, you’re so…” Different. Cruel. Different. Opposite. Different. Vindictive. Different. “Not the same,” Cassian finished, at last.

“I am my own person,” she snapped, as he stopped in front of her townhouse.

“I know you are, just-.” He sighed, turning to look at her. “This has been a mess from the start. Can I come in? I’d like some time for us to talk, just the two of us. No ex’s, no servers, no interruptions. I just want to get to know you.”

She laughed once.

The sound infuriated him.

“You mean you want to fuck me,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. He was, once again, caught off guard by how blunt she was. She pulled open his glovebox and removed the strip of condoms, holding them up. “Forgot your wallet, but made sure you didn’t forget these.”

Cassian slowly looked at her. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” she repeated. “What are you, a child?”

Cassian couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’ve tried to be the perfect gentleman tonight, alright? Yeah, I forgot my wallet, but-.”

“And we also ran into your fuck buddy, don’t forget about that,” Nesta said, with a vindictive grin. She opened the door, grabbed her purse, and hopped out.

Cassian was close behind her, following her up her walkway. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Nesta spun around. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she laughed, humorlessly. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Cassian asked, as she approached her front door.

“Yet you’re still following me to my door,” she said, not looking back at him. She unlocked the door, opening it and stepping inside. Turning back to him, she held the door in one hand, the hand holding her purse propped on her hip. “Thank you for a truly unforgettable evening, Cassian, but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, letting his gaze slowly drag from her head to her toes and back up again. He watched as her cheeks heated, anger lighting up her eyes. “Yeah, I think you’re right. You’re too stuck up for your own good. Too bad.”

She groaned before slamming the door in his face, praying she’d never have to see Cassian Nazari again.

#shara #collab #LAWKI #nessian #fanfic #fanfiction #modern au

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