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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

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Okay, I know hockey player versus figure skater is a super cliché rivalry, but all day today, my brain was like “hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian! Hockey player Cassian,” so here we are. Also, fun fact, this exact event actually happened to my little brother at one of his games. TW for blood and injuries. Hope you enjoy :) @nessianweek

The cool rush of the air conditioning is the first thing that hits Cassian as he pushes through the doors. The throwback pop song pumping out of the speakers and the smell of popcorn from the snack bar hits him next. He shifts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, resettling the weight, his sticks clacking together in his other hand. He makes his way over to the board declaring the locker room assignments for the day, squinting until he finds the Illyrians. He's about to head off toward their locker room when his eyes snag on someone.

Nesta is perched like a queen on one of the benches in the lobby, her white skates resting beside her. She has a sweatshirt pulled on, but the red skirts of her dress skim across her thighs, and Cassian can see the jeweled embellishments peeking out under the collar. Unsurprising, she has a book opened in her hands, probably another of her smutty romances. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, Cassian finds himself drawn into her eyes, the way they glint as they dance across the pages.

Cassian doesn't have to think twice before he's sauntering over to her. He drops his bag with a loud thump at her feet, a smile pulling across his face at her answering glower. He loves this game they play. The way he pushes her buttons and she pushes his always leaves flames licking up his skin in the most delicious way. He's sure they make quite the sight, the hockey player and the figure skater, but he'll never stop going back for more.

"What do you want, Cassian?"

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul."

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards."

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest.

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book.

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again.

~ * * * ~

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre.

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear.

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game."

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later."

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?"

"We are not friends."

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship."

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much.

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team.

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together.

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head.

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle.

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in.

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench.

~ * * * ~

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit.

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet.

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?"

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own.

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head."

"It looked… bad."

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot."

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand.

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?"

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand.

"How else would I get home?"

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?"

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot."

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too.

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open."

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta.

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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thewayshedreamed · 3 years

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Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn��t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

#nessian #nessian au #nessianweek2021 #nessian week day 4 #day 4: rivalry #nesta x cassian #twsd writes #twsd fics #800 followers celebration

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arinbelle · 3 years

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Nessianweek: Rivalry

Notes: Because I wanted to give something for Nessian week but I suck at time management, you get this nonsense late for the Rivalry prompt. I hope you enjoy!

Oh and yes, the quote about the Hustle is from Zootopia. I love that movie.

~*~

Nesta tore her eyes from the pages of her book and forced herself to look up. Right there in front of her, embroiled in a match of the ages, Feyre and Cassian were going at it viciously.

"You're cheating!," Feyre exclaimed again, swearing crudely under her breath.

Cassian flipped her off, laughing with so much open radiance, she felt her breath stop short in her chest. He was so beautiful.

So beautiful that Nesta thought about how she could manipulate the situation to get Cassian to come away with her. Play with her in other ways...a different game altogether.

Azriel cleared his throat loudly and Nesta whipped her head behind to see him raising his brows at her.

Don’t judge me, she almost hissed out, pursing her lips at her interruption.

Azriel’s smirk almost answered back, I think someone should.

Shadows whirled around him, slithering onto her couch and nipping her on the hand. She swatted angrily and them until they slinked off, almost shamefully.

“Serves them right,” she muttered under her breath.

“Some people just can’t control themselves,” Azriel whispered into the papers in front of him.

“Like you control yourself around Gwyn?,” she shot back at full volume, not caring who heard. Azriel’s expression mirrored that of a horrified child who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He leveled her with a severe look, pointedly looking at Feyre and Cassian, not three feet away from them.

Thankfully, neither were paying any attention to the world around them, only focused on spewing vitriol at each other. They bickered like young children for a few more minutes, and then Feyre lost again.

"Third?," Elain whispered to Nesta as she sat down next to her. She was asking about the number of losses Feyre had already suffered at Cassian's hand. Her sister curled her feet under her body and half of her tucked into Nesta too.

"Fifth," Nesta replied, nestling closer to Elain as well. It was rare for them to sit like this anymore. Soak up each other's warmth as there was no need for it in the always temperate House of Wind and the general lack of poverty in their lives.

Nesta flicked her eyes forward and looked at Feyre's face concentrated on the scene before her. Tongue peeking out between her lips while she thought hard about her next move. It was shockingly adorable and for a moment, Nesta thought about how young her sister looked even now to her. Even with a baby and a marriage and a kingdom to run. Cassian stuck his tongue out suddenly, mocking her, and Feyre smacked his arm sharply.

And the bickering began anew. Nesta rolled her eyes.

"Technically," Nesta muttered to Elain, "she should have one at least one by now. Rhysand switched Cassian's cards when he went for water during their third game because he felt bad for Feyre. Cassian saw it and ignored it. And she still lost."

Azriel choked on his drink behind her and Nesta turned her head to share a conspiratorial smirk with him. They'd been making bets for the past five rounds and Azriel had lost a hefty sum in betting against Nesta's mate.

Why Azriel was still trying to be loyal to Feyre after her disastrous losses, she would never know. But she would admire the loyalty if that was what it was. Nesta was more convinced it was based on brotherly jest to rile Cassian up each time he met his eyes and passed another gold coin to Nesta.

Nesta was no better. She was running on triumph alone that her mate was doing so well. Triumph and pride.

"You can't!," Feyre exclaimed suddenly. Nesta hadn't been paying attention and scrambled to understand what had happened.

"I already did. We agreed. I win and I get that beautiful bow of yours."

Feyre's ears began turning red. "It was a gift."

Cassian snorted. "Hardly. Rhysand took it from my weapons storage to gift you. It's pirated goods at this point."

Feyre opened her mouth. Shutting it and opening it over and over so much that Nesta was tempted to warn her about stray bugs that may wander in.

"I want a rematch," her sister demanded with a curl of her lip.

Cassian was the picture of boredom, leaning back in his chair, settling calmly. Unfazed. He drawled slowly, words dripping sardonically off of his tongue. "You lost five games in a row. You won't win. Let's get on with it Feyre. The bow please." Cassian's large hand lay outstretched in front of the table between them and Nesta wondered if Feyre may slap it.

"I want a rematch," Feyre said again. “You tricked me. I don’t know how, but you did.”

He had. Nesta had seen him lead her into believing he was playing one move for another so many times, she’d wanted to scream at Feyre for not catching it sooner.

“It’s called a hustle, Feyre. Deal with it.”

Feyre ignored him, turning her head to the couch where Nesta and Elain sat, and widened her eyes emphatically. It was a look only sisters would understand.

Help me.

Nesta struggled to keep her face straight as Feyre's voice exploded in her skull.

Ouch!

Sorry. I'm just angry. Your mate's being an ass.

Nesta snorted and Cassian's eyes began tracing her body as she rose from the couch and approached the table.

Fine.

Feyre emptied her chair and Nesta took it.

Cassian's pose broke, and he leaned forward expectantly, meeting Nesta's eyes head on.

"What's this then?," he asked affectionately.

Nesta sighed. "Feyre's whining for help." A noise of indignation left Feyre, standing to her left, which Nesta ignored. "So I'm helping."

Cassian's smile was blinding. "You're going to play for her?"

Nesta turned to Feyre. "A bow, is it?" Feyre nodded her head, shooting Cassian a withering glare in the process.

"Sure. I'll play." Nesta examined the cards in front of her. "What are we playing?"

Cassian looked startled. "Er, it's a Fae card game. I'm not sure if you know it." His hands picked up the cards with a flourish and he shuffled them with ease. "Ever heard of Flenaia."

Nesta blinked.

Cassian nodded. "That’s okay, I’ll go over the rules.”

Nesta snuck a glance at Feyre before nodding. "Alright."

He turned to Feyre. "You sure about this? She's never played. She's not going to win." He cast a quick glance to her, a dazzling smile shot her way. "No offense sweetheart."

Nesta shrugged. After all, she was only here because her book had gotten to be too ridiculous. There was only so many monsters with "engorged cocks" that Nesta could read about before losing interest.

Nesta hadn't said anything else so Cassian began.

He spoke in that lovely baritone of his, explaining the ins and outs of the game to her. Guiding her through different plays. Having her repeat the basic rules out to him.

Feyre breezed off soon after, claiming that Nyx needed a feeding even though Nesta knew he'd been fast asleep not even an hour ago.

"Good. Okay I think you understand how to play now. How many rounds?"

Nesta thought about it. Turned to the hallway behind her where Feyre was nowhere near.

"I don't know," Nesta admitted slowly. "I'm playing for Feyre's sake so I'm not sure..."

Elain chimed in, "Do five. A tribute to dear Feyre for her losses." She chuckled at her own joke and it wasn't long before everyone in the room joined her.

"I heard that," Feyre accused with laughter in her voice. Nyx cooed and fussed on her hip, Rhysand trailing in quietly behind her.

It wasn't long before Mor and Amren were suddenly just there with them.

Rhys was the first to add his input. "You're playing against Cassian, Nesta? Flenaia? Good luck sister. You'll need it."

"Thank you, brother," Nesta replied with a grin. "I'm not sure you mean it though."

Rhys gave a huff of laughter before sitting down beside Feyre, taking Nyx into his lap and stroking his head. "Oh I mean it. Cassian doesn't lose when it comes to card games. Hasn't lost in," he turned to Mor, lounged out on the opposite couch, "how long?"

Mor didn't look up, riveted on the table between Cassian and Nesta. "Three centuries. And it would have been a record of five centuries undefeated had it not been for that one loss."

Cassian's hand flexed in irritation and he began shuffling the cards again.

"Why did you lose?," Nesta asked carefully.

Mor perked up, ready to answer but Amren beat her to it. "Don't you know about what happened in the Summer Court?"

"Careful Amren," Cassian warned darkly.

Amren bared her teeth in a smirk that bordered on seconds from being a real bite. “Well he lost girl, and then he destroyed that building. It’s why he’s not allowed to go back to the Summer Court.”

Nesta didn’t react, wanting to take Cassian’s mind away from whatever had irritated him so much that he was now aggressively shuffling the deck.

“Let me,” she spoke softly, taking the cards from his grasp and starting the game.

Nesta played slowly, taking her time with her cards, staring at Cassian’s furrowed, scarred brow for far too long. Until he met her eyes with a knowing grin and she had to feign disinterest. Stupid bat, always distracting her with his looks.

“Doesn’t look good for you, Nes,” Cassian finally spoke after a three minute standstill that she’d taken during her turn. She ignored the playful tease in his voice.

Rhys had foregone the couch altogether now, Nyx squirming in his steady grasp as he stood over the card table. Feyre was watching, now in her old seat, curled next to Elain who was watching with a knowing look the few times Nesta turned to meet her eyes.

Nesta placed her card down to finish her turn.

There was a sudden silence in the room. A hushed explosion of confusion. And then...

"I don't fucking believe it," Rhys exclaimed. "She beat him. She really fucking beat him."

Nesta stared at Cassian, whose eyes had gone wider than she'd ever seen before. "Did I really?," she asked him.

Cassian stared at the cards in front of him. Stared and stared and stared. He nodded slowly to no one in particular and finally met her eyes, crinkled in confusion.

“Yes. You did...”

A squeal to Nesta’s right stole her attention away from her perplexed mate, and suddenly Nesta was being crushed in a hug that made it difficult to breathe.

“Feyre...Feyre!”

“Sorry,” Feyre said as she extricated herself from Nesta. “I just got excited,” she admitted sheepishly. But all that disappeared as she turned on Cassian and glared. “She won. She only needs to win two more rounds and then we win.”

Cassian gave her a slow grin. “Don’t you mean she wins? When did this become “we”?”

“Shut up, Cassian,” Feyre growled, walking back to her seat.

And so it was on to round two.

“It was beginner’s luck,” Nesta assured him gently.

“I don’t mind sweetheart,” Cassian responded a little too quickly.

Big Illyrian baby.

I know, right?, Feyre’s voice boomed in her head.

Get out of my head Feyre!

Sorry. I’ll go. Nesta felt the presence leave her consciousness but just for good measure, she stacked up her mental shields again, brick by brick. When she was done, she realized everyone was expectantly staring at her. Cassian most of all.

Nesta apologized with a bob of her head and placed down her card.

The round ended within a few minutes with Nesta as the victor.

It might have been comical the way Feyre began dancing around Cassian’s chair, swinging her arms over her head as her hair whipped back and forth. Half of it smacked Cassian in the face at one point, and Nesta swore she saw murder in his eyes.

“It’s just luck, Cassian. And it’s just a game,” she reminded him.

“Definitely." But the words seemed hollow.

Poor thing. She almost felt sorry for him. The pitiful look on his face that was practically begging her to kiss it away.

Cassian shuffled the cards this time, taking extra care to place them down slowly in front of Nesta and then herself as well. Nesta let him. Let him take his time, brow furrowed, lip pinched between his teeth, distracting her with memories of how his teeth felt leaving marks in her skin.

"Damn," Feyre muttered as Cassian made his second victory. He was good. She would admit that now. She'd taken a full offensive and gotten more difficult to work around with each slightly loudening slap of her card on the table.

Cassian had paid it no mind, caught in his own flurry to get his move done and deal with the next hand Nesta had played.

Rhys let out a low whistle as Feyre herself took it upon herself to shuffle the cards for Nesta.

Cassian's eyes narrowed on her and Nesta knew the game was up as the final round ticked in. As Feyre's hand left the cards in their respective positions, and she breezed away, muttering to Nesta that she'd better win her bow back, Nesta knew it wouldn't do anymore to keep the lies going.

"Still can't believe they're tied," Rhys murmured, rubbing a hand through his midnight hair, to which Nyx gurgled at before grabbing a fistful of it to pull on.

Nesta kept quiet, instead picking up her deck and sorting through what she’d gotten while Feyre wrestled Nyx away from pulling out more of Rhyand’s perfect hair.

“Demonic child,” Rhys muttered, all while allowing Nyx to grasp his chubby fingers onto his own, only to but them in his gummy mouth.

“What?,” Feyre asked, irritaiton lacing her voice at the attention she’d lost from the game as Cassian made his first move.

A good move if Nesta had ever seen one. But not that good.

“I bet Cassian wins this round. Twenty coins.”

“Cheap wager,” Feyre shot back. “You seem to have no confidence in your brother. But fine, you’re on. Nesta is going to win.”

Rhys scoffed. “Cassian’s never lost a card game ever. Not in hundreds of years.” Rhys’ eyes met Nesta’s as she paused on her move to watch the new game unfolding to her right. “Don’t you know, Cassian doesn’t lose. Not in Flenaia least of all.”

Feyre winked at her and Nesta had to fight to keep the smile off of her face. “Oh but don’t you know Rhys? Nesta doesn’t lose either. Especially not in Flenaia. Bet’s on. Make it thirty coins.”

Cassian’s face snapped up from his deck to glare at her.

“I thought you said you’ve never heard of the game.”

Well, the ruse was up now. “Did I say that?,” she sing-songed, placing down her card. “Or did you just assume that because it’s a Fae game and I was human for most of my life.”

Cassian sputtered. “You asked me to teach you the rules!”

Nesta corrected him. “You offered to teach me the rules. You didn’t ask about whether I already knew them or not.”

Nesta had learned Flenaia in the bars she’d frequented during her stay in Velaris. She’d picked it up slowly and had been completely enraptured by the little game played so stealthily and quickly. She’d lost so many rounds in the beginning and the fervor it gave to her, to win, to best the game and herself was why she’d gotten so good at it.

“You tricked me,” Cassian accused, using Feyre’s own line of complaint from not too long ago.

Nesta smirked, dragging a finger sensually down Cassian’s hand that lay flat on the table in front of her. “It’s called a hustle, sweetheart. Deal with it.”

Cassian seemed to be the embodiment of rage as she threw his own words back in his face. Good. She’d like him to turn that anger into something useful for her later on at night. In the confines and privacy of their bedroom, where he could...

“Are you paying attention?,” Cassian’s irate voice snapped her out of her fantasies. “It’s your turn.”

“Is someone upset?,” Nesta mocked, flipping her hair behind her back as she placed her card down without a moment’s pause.

Cassian stared at her. “You sure about that? You didn’t even look at what you put down.”

Nesta shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m going to win either way.”

The corner of Cassian’s lip turned up, and she bunched up her fingers in her lap as she fought the urge to trace it. “If you weren’t hell bent on making me lose, I’d admire the confidence.”

“You admire it regardless,” Nesta volleyed back.

Cassian didn’t say anything, looking through his deck, but they both knew she was right.

“So when I win-”

“If,” Nesta corrected haughtily. “If you win.”

Cassian ignored it. “When I win, I get to keep my bow. But what should I get from you?”

The words were deliciously coarse against her skin and the fabric she was wearing suddenly felt too tight.

Nesta’s voice lowered. “What would you like from me, Cassian?”

She knew how much he loved it when she spoke his name. She couldn’t help it most times. It was a beautiful name, so much so, that butchering it with the shortened nickname felt almost like sinning. The way it rolled off of her tongue like syrup when she crooned it in mocking jest, or the way it stole her breath when she moaned it underneath him was a weakness of hers. But Cassian loved it most, she knew, when it was whispered under her breath in innuendo. Like she was doing now.

Cassian opened his mouth and-

“No!,” Feyre’s voice cut harshly through the spell Cassian’s eyes had had her under. “We don’t need to hear the answer to that question Cassian. Keep it in your pants.”

Cassian leaned back, grumbling something incoherent.

“And you,” Feyre focused on Nesta. “Focus on what you’re here to do. He gives you a few sultry looks and you’re done for.”

Nesta tried to defend herself, but Feyre stopped her with a raised hand. “Don’t deny it. Whatever you two want to do to each after Nesta wins isn’t my business. But let’s deal with the task at hand first, please.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, Cassian following suit.

Cassian threw down three cards with an arrogant wave of his hands. “Well Nes, it was a valiant effort. But unfortunately, the bow is mine.” Nesta stared at them. “And so are you,” he added salaciously.

Nesta placed down her last card. “Adorable. But you still lost the game.”

The grin on Cassian’s face disappeared almost comically fast as he looked down, nose almost touching the table and cards on top of it.

“She won?,” Mor shrieked, sitting upright abruptly.

“She won?,” Azriel whispered to himself.

Rhys ran over to the table. “She won?”

“She won?,” Feyre shouted out, Nyx babbling in response.

“The girl won?” Amren’s gravelly voice floated around them.

Cassian’s eyes skimmed furiously over the set of cards she’d played. Just right so that it hadn’t seemed likely for a victory until she placed down her final card. Her winning card. She’d set him up the moment she’d admitted she’d conned him.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, defeat worn all over his face. “She won,” Cassian admitted softly. Nesta swore she saw a hint of pride when he looked at her before examining the cards again.

There was a moment of silence around them, and suddenly noise erupted in the room. Feyre began screaming, Nyx started shrieking in response. Mor began dancing. Nesta swore Rhys shed a tear. Azriel laughed softly and Elain clapped to her when Nesta looked back to see them.

Feyre brought out her bow within record time, brandishing it more like a sword as she skipped around Cassian, chanting about her win.

Nesta decided then that it was time to make their exit as she saw Cassian glower harder and longer at Feyre’s prolonged victory dance. She swore she saw his eye twitch too.

Nesta weaved her fingers through Cassian’s and pulled him up from his chair. While he didn’t object to her leading them away from the clebration in the living room, she saw the sour look on his face.

“Why the face?”

Cassian pouted.

Nesta let out the laugh she’d been keeping in from the moment Cassian had lost his game. Grasping the hand she was holding tighter, she brought it up to her face and kissed the scarred knuckles. “Oh I’m sorry alright. It was all harmless fun.”

“You tricked me,” he repeated with another pout.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised with a grin.

Cassian raised one scarred brow, almost in protest. “How?” Before she knew what was happening, she was pinned against the wall, Cassian towering over her, his arms trapping her in on both sides.

Nesta didn’t balk, pressing herself closer into him. “However you want.”

“I didn’t win,” he reminded her gently.

Nesta rose up on her toes, kissing the skin on his neck where a faint curling of ink peeked out from his shirt. “Are you sure about that?” His pulse hammered under her lips at the question and she nipped lightly at it.

“I-”

“You win me, Cassian. Most people wouldn’t complain about that."

"Awfully arrogant of you," Cassian let out with a groan, skimming his nose down her cheek.

Nesta laughed. "You love it."

Cassian pulled back, humor dancing in his eyes.

"I do love it. I love you."

Nesta rolled her eyes. "I love you too, bat. Now, what were you about to do to me?"

Cassian winked. "Glad you asked."

~*~

#nesta archeron #acosf #nessian #cassian #acotar #nesta x cassian #nessian fanfiction #nessianweek2021 #nessianweek

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talkfantasytome · 3 years

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Justified Confidence

Nessian Week Prompt: Rivalry

Cassian and Nesta meet at a bar, and Cassian offers a challenge to determine the outcome of their night.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 2,111 | Read on AO3

a/n: As soon as this idea popped in my head, I knew I had to do it. Seems like something they'd do. Hope you enjoy!

Nesta strutted into the bar, taking in the atmosphere around her.

There was really nothing special about Wings and Embers. The top floor was more like a dance club - the DJ already blasting the music, loud enough down on the first floor to be heard but not to hinder conversation. The downstairs was more of a true bar. The walls were a dark red, peppered with wall lights that were dim enough to provide an 'ambience', as they would likely call it. Between the lights were various photographs of the skyline of Velaris.

In the center of the room, the black-painted bar stood in a massive, squared "U", the ends of each side up against the back wall. And scattered around the large room on either side were booths and tables for people to sit at after they got their drinks.

Thinking of…Nesta walked straight up to the bar, finding an empty stool on the left side to sit on, and flagged down a bartender. She ordered a gin and tonic and then relaxed, scanning the room as she waited.

She hadn't even received her drink yet when she met a pair of hazel eyes fixated on her from across the bar, warm and twinkling with something akin to mischief. She held the gaze as the bartender handed the gin and tonic to her, and then held up her glass in return as the man lifted his, a half-smile on his face.

Nesta had barely taken a sip when the man stood and started toward her, revealing his near-monstrous height. He walked surprisingly gracefully for being as tall and broad as he was - probably three times as wide as Nesta - his t-shirt tight enough to reveal the corded muscles on his bicep and hint at an uncommonly chiseled chest. She couldn't stop her eyes from rolling over his body before snapping back up to his face, as handsome as it was rough, with hard lines that she could easily trace with her tongue. He had an almost russet hue to his light brown skin, and his ebony hair had the tiniest hint of a wave, flowing to just above his shoulders.

She would have been embarrassed for staring so blatantly, were he not doing the same thing, his eyes trailing the bare leg that she had crossed over the other.

Nesta was wearing a simple black dress, the bodice tight until it reached her hips before flaring out in a skirt that didn't even reach mid-thigh. Over it she had on a fitted leather jacket that fell to her waist, the sleeves scrunched up to make them more three-quarter lengths for the evening. And she opted for no tights or socks, only a pair of black, heeled booties on her feet, leaving her legs free and easily admired.

"Well, you're rather bold, aren't you?" she taunted by way of greeting. He was now leaning against the bar, standing just to the left of her stool, which she'd pivoted in to face him.

"Would you have preferred it if I just eyed you from across the bar for an hour first?" he asked in a rough timbre that sent shivers down her spine.

She smirked up at him. "That's what most men would do."

"I'm not most men," he shot back with a playful smile.

"Too concerned about the competition? There do seem to be quite a few good options for me here tonight." She looked around the room to emphasize the point.

He chuckled, the sound low and heavenly. "Some good ones for me, too. Yet here I am."

"So confident," she sighed. "Who's to say you could get any of their numbers, or even mine, for that matter?"

"Is that a challenge, sweetheart?"

Nesta offered him an innocent smile. "I didn't say that. And my name isn't sweetheart."

"What is your name, then?" he requested, his eyes never leaving hers, as if he were mesmerized by a swirl of blue and grey.

"Tell me yours and I'll decide if mine's worth sharing."

He grinned at that response. "I'm Cassian."

"Interesting name," she remarked, not wanting to stoke his ego by calling it beautiful. "Nesta."

"Nesta," he repeated in a whisper, accentuating the second syllable slightly, making Nesta's toes curl. "Well, now that that's settled, I do accept your challenge."

"What was my challenge, exactly?"

"You want proof I have options," he explained, a knowing smirk on his lips telling her he knew she was blatantly aware that he could get almost any person in this room. "Let's make it a contest, eh? See who can get another person to offer their number first. No asking for it."

Nesta felt her eyes sparkle at the concept, a wicked smiling growing. "And what are the prizes?"

"If I win, I get to take you out," he stated. "I'll let you choose your prize."

Her face scrunched for a moment as she contemplated the offer. "If I win…you take me back to your place and show me whether or not that confidence is justified."

"Doesn't sound like I'll be losing, sweetheart," he murmured.

"Then it's fair."

Their eyes remained locked on each other for another moment, the tension between them thick and tangible. Then Cassian downed the rest of his drink and walked off, searching for his first target.

Nesta laughed to herself and took another sip, waiting for another man to catch her eye. Or, at least, be attractive enough she could convincingly flirt with him.

She was just finishing her drink when a presence appeared at her side, tall and broad enough for her to know he was fit and strong, but nothing compared to what Cassian was. Looking him over, the only similarity she found was the length of his hair. Beyond that, he was the complete opposite to the other man. Pale with a golden glow, blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a refined face that made him look like he could be a prince. He was good looking, certainly, but after Cassian, she found herself rather unimpressed.

"Need a refill?" he offered, taking the spot Cassian had been standing in, resting an elbow against the bar as he met her eyes. His movements were graceful, to an extent, but still a bit stiff, and the smile he offered her couldn't be described as 'easy' the way all of Cassian's had been.

She smiled politely up at him, tucking her loose, golden brown curls behind her ear. "That would be lovely," she responded, her voice schooled into a flirty tone. Nesta could hear the fakeness in it, but she doubted he could - she was well practiced in donning a mask.

He requested the bartender get her another gin and tonic, on his tab, and turned back to Nesta. "I'm Tamlin."

Weird name. "Feyre." No way was Nesta giving him her real name. She probably shouldn't have used her little sister's, but she doubted it would be an issue. Feyre never ventured out of the Sidra neighborhood in Velaris, let alone end up all the way in Illyria on the opposite side of the city. It was too 'seedy', as she and her obnoxious fiancé often said, but Nesta loved it.

"It's lovely to make your acquaintance, Feyre," he crowed.

"Likewise…Tamlin." Accepting the drink from the bartender, she took a sip, her eyes landing on Cassian, who was sitting at a table, twirling strands of some blonde's hair in his hand as he met Nesta's gaze. He gave her a smug smirk that heightened Nesta's resolve, even if what she really wanted to do was pull all that bitch's hair out and then drag Cassian to the alley out back.

So she looked back at Tamlin, offered him another smile, and began a conversation, asking him about his work and hobbies. He enjoyed talking about himself. A lot. Didn't actually seem all that interested in Nesta, which was all the better for her. Fewer lies she'd need to come up with.

Instead, she was able to focus on laughing at the right points, asking him follow-up questions, appearing interested and doe-eyed, the latter something he definitely seemed to enjoy. She would place her hand on his arms and chest every once in a while. And every time her eyes locked with Cassian's, and she'd smile to herself whenever the brown in his hazel seemed to turn red at the sight.

She spoke with Tamlin for almost an hour, and was about to call it quits and find someone else when he received a text message that had his face falling into something close to rage. It wasn't a good look.

"My apologies, something just came up that I have to handle," he sighed. "But, I enjoyed the conversation. Could I, maybe, get your number? Maybe we can go out sometime?"

Nesta inhaled sharply, grimacing slightly as she tried to look like she was thinking it through. "I…I don't know," she murmured, confident that the shy demeanor she was attempting to present was exactly right.

"How about this: why don't I give you my number, yeah? And you can call me?" he offered, pulling out a business card.

Nesta nodded as if that were an acceptable alternative and took the card, giving him a fake, small smile as he closed out his tab and bid her good night. She waited for him to be out the door before standing up, card in hand, and heading toward where Cassian was still sitting with the blonde, now struggling to hide the boredom he seemed to be feeling.

He looked up as she walked over to them, his eyes widening at the sway in her hips and triumphant grin on her face. Without stopping, she dropped the card on the table in front of him and then placed herself near the doors to the bar.

She watched as Cassian picked up the card and read it, realizing what it was. His eyes sparkled with something she couldn't quite read as they met hers, and then he was quickly making his excuses to the girl he'd been hitting on before he stood up and headed straight toward her.

"Looks like I w-"

Cassian's lips crashed into hers before she could finish her sentence, one arm snaking around her waist while he lifted the other, brushing his fingers into her hair. His lips were warm and soft, even when filled with an intensity she'd rarely felt before. It was more than just a show of feeling, it was a claiming. And as he pulled her tighter to him, telling Nesta exactly what effect watching her flirt with another man had on him, she felt herself moan, her lips parting on their own accord to let Cassian's tongue sweep in.

His taste was familiar and comforting, like the kiss of snow and a sparking embers, and she melted into it as she'd done so many times before, unable to help herself. Her hands sat on his chest, holding the fabric of his shirt tightly as he deepened the kiss for a moment before gently pulling away and resting his forehead on hers.

They were both smiling as they shared breath, once again drowning in each other's eyes.

"That was fun," Cassian huffed, chuckling softly. Nesta couldn't help but laugh with him. "I think it's best if we not do it too often, though. I got way too close to punching that guy when I saw him place a hand on your thigh."

"Seems like it worked to me," she teased, giving him a quick, soft kiss. She hadn't been expecting Cassian to propose such a challenge when he'd suggested they go out and pretend they didn't know each other, that they were meeting for the first time. She'd expected some heavy flirting until one of them cracked. This…as much as she'd wanted to tear into that blonde - physically or with her words, either would've worked - she couldn't deny she'd never been so ready for him to take her. "Let's go home."

Cassian beamed at her, at the words she used, still fairly new to them - they'd only moved into their shared apartment a few weeks before - and it took her breath away. She offered him a full, sincere smile back and noticed the hitch in his own breathing before he was kissing her again, passionately.

"Yes," he whispered against her lips after another minute. "Let's go home."

Each wrapping an arm around the other, Cassian placed a kiss to the top of her head as they walked out the bar, a sweet and tense anticipation growing with every step they took toward their home.

a/n: I know it's weird to use Tamlin in something like this, but you know he'd find Nesta pretty if he thinks Feyre is. And I just couldn't bring myself to use someone else, like Eris or Tarquin or Helion, in a scenario where Nesta was only ever using them for a contest like this. Even if I do have Nesta using one of them in other stuff, it's typically in a way that could offer them something at some point, maybe. lol

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @live-the-fangirl-life @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @bo0kmaster69 @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @nessianweek

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vidalinav · 3 years

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Nessian Week Day 2: Gifts

Summary: Nesta finds the present Cassian threw in the Sidra.

Look I can only write prompts in Cassian’s POV for some reason and he’s always a simp. I can’t make him less of a simp. I think I’m projecting my own love for Nesta Archeron, but it is what it is.

Cassian’s sitting in the living room, and the windows are open as well as the doors, and Nesta chooses to be outside. She wants fresh air, she says. It’s a beautiful day and Cassian can’t blame her, but he tries not to grumble in her absence. He’s stuck inside, waiting on Rhys who conveniently forgets they have a meeting today.

It seems, Rhys would rather be with someone else... and Cassian would rather be with her. He jostles his leg impatiently, sighing every few minutes, thinking of all the ways he could be spending his time.

At least, they’re going to a new restaurant in the city after. Cassian can’t wait and he looks to the clock as if his glare might make it tick faster.

He’s sure after the restaurant, they’ll inevitably find themselves in bookshops. Cassian smiles at the thought. It seems they have a routine.

One after another, they’ll peruse until he’s carrying a tower of romances. Nesta will make a game of it, he’s sure. How many can he carry before he drops them or she can’t reach the top even as he leans down? How many can she get away with before he starts complaining that his arms hurt?

Cassian will do no such thing. Nesta should have as many books as she wants. Mother knows they have a house big enough for three hundred libraries. They can stand to have three hundred more. It will feel like three hundred books anyway, but Cassian won’t say a word. In fact, he’ll tell her she forgot to look in this aisle and jut his chin to the colorful bindings and some title that’s laughingly scandalizing.

Nesta will feel guilty about it later that evening though, as she always does, and so she’ll smile fondly. Gift it to him. That small, tilt of her lips, the mirth reaching her eyes. For holding all those books. Nesta will hold him closer too, because when she’s happy, she stops thinking about the city lights and the people and the noise. She keeps looking to him, tucking her hand into his, leaning her head on his arm. They’ll listen to the music as they walk, and all of it will sound sweet, and soft, but really he’ll be too distracted by her. All of her.

Cassian sighs. He’d rather be outside with Nesta--whatever she’s doing. Anywhere but here waiting for Rhys who’s taking his damn time.

He hears the sound of footsteps and sends a thank you to the Mother. Finally. Cassian gets up thinking it’s Rhys. He might just punch his brother for taking so long. Where have you been? He’ll screech.

But it’s Nesta who comes trampling through one of the sliding doors.

Better option, he thinks, and he’s about to say so, but Cassian notices the light blue fabric, the lacy edges trailed in dirt.

Her dress is caked in mud, the bottom drenched. She has a spot of dirt on her cheek, and Cassian brushes it off as she nears, as he pulls her close. Nesta pays no mind; she only grins. A big, happy expression that he’s already named.

Nesta only smiles like that when she’s over the moon, when the sun seemingly sinks into her chest and wants to shine from her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. Sunset hues. Peaches and blush and bright skies. Cassian feels warm to his toes, and he smiles unconsciously for she brings out the sun.

Nesta holds up a little box and Cassian eyes it curiously.

“I found a book!” She explains, “It’s the smallest book I’ve ever seen.”

Cassian looks to the box again not recognizing the color. He’s sure it can't be--

But it is. She opens the box, not torn at all, and inside lays a perfectly small book. Made my tiny, fairy hands. All the pages are intact, no water or mud in sight as if it’s never seen the Sidra at all.

Cassian holds his breath, but Nesta grins so fondly, he feels his chest start to squeeze.

“I was just walking along the river and I saw something on the side, and... I was curious,” She says sheepishly.

Nesta never can keep her curiosity down, and it explains her dress coated in the banks of the Sidra. He half wants to chastise for not getting him to help her. She must have climbed all the way down and he could have flown. She could have gotten hurt or carried away by the rapid tide. It’s at least a good couple of feet... but he shakes away his worry as she holds up the gift.

He just can’t believe it.

“So I climbed down a bit and I dug out the box! It’s perfect, isn’t it? I’m surprised the water didn’t ruin it. It must have come in with the storm last week.”

“Where do you think it came from?” He asks, because he doesn’t know what else to say as Nesta looks at the book, flipping through the pages carefully. “Does it belong to anyone, you think?”

It’s yours, he wants to blurt. I got it for you. It was yours all along. Just like I was.

But Cassian doesn’t say that, he can’t make words form... and he knows where it came from. He doesn’t know what the words mean, but he know who made it. What type of material it is. How many exist in the world? Not many, but one is in her hand when it had only ever met his pocket and the sea.

It must be some work of fae magic. A blessing from the Mother who know Nesta deserves the world... or he deserves some peace. Whatever power calls forth the tide or preserves paper in a flimsy box, he’s grateful for it. For the way, Nesta smiles like that.

Nesta holds up her chin as if she’ll fight any person who claims it’s theirs, who tries to take it from her. A ferocious sort of gleam in her eyes. “I don’t know... but it’s mine now. I’m the one who climbed down for it. I’m caked in mud.”

Cassian’s lips raise as he wraps his arms around her waist, “I think it was definitely meant to be yours.”

“It feels like mine,” she says softly. Nesta looks at the tiny book. It’s purple cover a sheen of old leather, stamped with unrecognizable words. She clasps it to her chest like she’s trying to burrow it away in her heart. Somewhere precious and protected behind a ribcage and a will of iron.

All she loves is stored there.

Cassian is there, too, he knows, because of that look she makes. That softness in her eyes, the sun in her smile. It’s reserved for him. For him and this tiny book.

I’m yours, he thinks.

Cassian grips her hand, pulling her towards the door. “Let’s see if we can go find a magnifying glass. Maybe we can try and read the words.”

Nesta frowns, “I thought you had a meeting.”

Cassian shakes his head, forgetting all about this room and Rhys and meetings. All that matters is her. “It’s not important,” he says.

That joy, he thinks, is more important than anything. A blessing. A gift. He wonders how many times he can make her smile like that.

Cassian doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’ll make a game of it.

Tag List:

@arinbelle @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @nestaarcher0n @duskandstarlight @soitsgorgeous @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @thewhelk @daisy-in-danger @highqueenevankhell @lovelynesta @sirendeepity @champanheandluxxury @ladynestaarcheron @moodymelanist @teagoddess99 @spoilersteph @angelic-voice-1997 @bo0kmaster69 @drielecarla @generalnesta @cozycomfyliving08

The only reason I wrote this is because I was tagged on nessian week and therefore felt obligated to post something. Apparently you can get me to write anything if you give me the obligation.

Bye!

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessianweek2021 #nessianweek #nessian fanfiction #vidalinav writes #vidalinav fic #nessian week

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nesquik-arccheron · 3 years

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Nessian Week Prompt: Alternate Universe (Rivalry?)

This started out with the Rivalry prompt in mind, but I'm not sure what happend along the way and I didn't think it fit the prompt any longer so we have this!

Stripper Nesta 🤷🏼‍♀️

Cassian slammed down the glass of his fourth beer that night onto the table, wiping his mouth of the liquid before waving down one of the strippers working the floor, signalling his need for a refill.

The men around the table he occupied cheered and hollered as the brunette woman on stage crawled towards them, sticking her perky tits out to accept the dollar bills his teammates tucked into her cleavage. She accepted the money with enthusiasm before turning on her knees and slinking back to the pole, the men applauding and throwing more of the crumpled paper money at the stage as she shook her ass for them.

Usually, Cassian would be whistling and gawking right along with his fellow football players, watching as the women's bodies danced along with the seductive melodies, but today, today he couldn't. He deserved this after the week he had, but he couldn't get the small, steely-eyed demon to banish herself from his thoughts.

Nesta Archeron, the bane of his existence. On paper, she may be the perfect woman, with long legs, a pretty face, and smarter than anyone had the right to be. On the inside, she was something that crawled out of the pit of hell that could only be banished by some sort of advanced witchcraft.

She was a know-it-all, a perfectionist to the extreme, bossy with a bitter tongue, but fuck if she wasn't hot while she was listing all the ways he was useless.

Which brought him to this moment and why he couldn't even enjoy a gorgeous women flash her tits in his face. He stuffed a few dollars into her g-string and gave her a smile that normally had girls fawning and leaned back into his chair, the smile not having its desired effect as it fell flat, the usual spark not reaching his eyes.

The past week he had spent more hours working on the research paper for their joint ethics class than he had this entire semester. Spending that much time with the sea witch put him in a horribly bitter mood, and he was hoping that a night out with his teammates would fix the nasty attitude he'd been sporting for weeks. He and Nesta had been at each other's throats from the very first day. He had spilt her coffee on her lap and she made an idiot of him in front of the entire class as she proved his weak argument wrong with humiliating ease.

She thought he was a dumb jock and he thought she was a haughty know-it-all.

Since then it was an all-out war. Always on the opposite side in a debate, even when they didn't necessarily agree with their chosen side, just looking for a way to make a fool out of the other. Always out to prove each other wrong, ready to point out the most basic flaw in their argument, regardless if it was relevant or not. And multiple tasteless jokes about how dumb Cassian was, reducing him to a caveman who could only throw a ball, and how Nesta must be an inexperienced virgin who couldn't get her head out of a book.

The two's immense dislike for each other was not an unknown fact.

So it was a surprise when they were paired three weeks ago to complete a research project together. It had gone as well as anyone would expect, with rumours that campus security got called to break up a fight in the library one night. Which wasn't entirely true.

They had finally completed their project two days ago and now we're free of each other's presence. But it turns out that little witch held him by the balls, had him fuming like a toddler over her nasty little attitude, so much so that days later he found himself pouting at a fucking strip club.

"Come on man, what's your problem, we're at a strip club," Balthazar shouted a little too loudly as he practically fell into the seat beside him, a fresh beer in his hand and a little too drunk, just like the rest of the team. They wouldn't remember anything in the morning but coach Devlon would be ready with a reprimand and laps until they vomited.

"I know, shitty week," he told him.

"Exactly why you should be enjoying this!" The male yelled over the music before it died off into nothing, signalling for a change in strippers.

"You're right," Cassian agreed, grabbing the fresh beer in front of him and clinked glasses with his friend. He would enjoy this. Hot women and beer, what more could he ask for right now.

The lights dimmed as the stage was set for the next young lady and Cassian found himself captivated by her the moment she stepped on stage, the rest of the room falling away into the shadow of the club.

The golden-haired brunette was angled in such a way that he could not see her face from his vantage point, which was farther to the back of the long-running stage, but it did give full view of was her body. It was perfection and every hair on his body rose to attention as she began to sway her hips to the music.

She was dressed in a traditional sexy schoolgirl outfit, and he surveyed her from her knee-high white socks to her tiny grey skirt that did nothing to hid her tight perky ass in that lacy thong, up to those very generous breasts that spilled over the bearly there blouse, so sheer that it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.

She didn't attempt any pole tricks like the one before her, but he was mesmerized by her dancing. Her arms raising above her head and slinking down her chest, her stomach and spreading herself for the group of men -and some very attractive women she gave some special attention to- huddling in front of her, eager for a look at the beautiful girl.

If only she'd turn around.

He debated walking over and joining the fawning men, but he preferred to stay put, enjoying the ability to appreciate her sensual dancing almost like a private show from his corner. He could feel his cock twitch for the first time that night as she tugged in her pigtail braids, her tits bouncing with the movement.

Cassian reached down to adjust himself and stopped dead in his tracts, his hand squeezing his junk in shock as the heart-stoppingly gorgeous woman turned to face him as she bared her backside to the awaiting audience. He felt his erection almost deflate in disbelief when he finally got a full, unobstructed view of her face. Almost.

It was Nesta fucking Archeron dancing on stage before him. Nesta, who had made the class he had taken for an easy A a living hell, who he believed got off on tearing down his self-esteem, who wore turtle necks and knee-length skirts.

The same Nesta Archeron who was currently rubbing her tits together and flashing her barely covered pussy into his teammate's faces. His cock stirred and he squeezed it roughly, 'Traitor.'

He chose to stay hidden in his dark corner until the end of her set, if he was going to be a creep, he would do it where no one could watch his shame. His cock ached with the images that flooded his vision and without any way to satisfy himself in a room full of people, he was ready to burst from the tightness of his pants. He had refused to touch himself to the image of her in a show of defiance.

By the time he finished off his beer her set finished, and he found himself alone at a table for several minutes before she appeared again in his line of vision, eyes trailing her long legs as she worked the room, taking orders and flirting with the patrons. He felt a ping of annoyance as she allowed their fingers to linger a moment longer than necessary while sliding a few bills into her cleavage.

Cassian stood up, adjusting himself in his pants before trailing after her a predictor stalking its prey. By the end of the evening, he would come to realize he was the prey.

"I don't think mommy and daddy Archeron would like to know what their little valedictorian gets up to when no one is watching" he teased, enjoying the way she turned to him at the sound of his voice so close to her ear.

If he hadn't known her better he would have missed the surprise that flashed across her face at the sight of him, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement normally used to signal annoyance or to intimidate only caused her to press her barely covered tits upward and into his eyeliner. He could help but look down.

"Pervert."

"Now, now Sweetheart, no need for name-calling, that won't get you any tips," he taunted, making a show of looking her up and down slowly in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from his inability to not stare at her breasts. Did he mention how amazing they were?

"What do you want, Nassari," Nesta huffed out in annoyance, "I have a job to do."

"I only wanted a moment of your time."

"You couldn't afford a moment of my time," she seethed, and he relished in the way her face reddened (in anger or embarrassment he didn't know) when he pulled out a nice, crisp 100 dollar bill, waving it between his fingers tauntingly. Okay, she was pissed. But God, was she beautiful when she was.

Nesta plucked the bill from his hand and folded it neatly into her shirt, "You got 10 minutes, come," she turned leading him towards a set of doors he assumed were reserved for lap dances.

"Whatever you say," he mocked, and she rolled her eyes at the innuendo.

Cassian didn't look around as they entered the room and she pushed him down onto a plush red love seat. He was helpless as he watched her, but his body didn't seem to mind being at her mercy, bending at the waist to press play on the little machine and then set something that almost reminded him of an egg timer.

"10 minutes remember, I'm in the clock," she reminded him when he gave her a questioning look.

The retort died in his throat as she began to stalk towards him, his eyes watching the sway of her hips, his hands twitching as they begged to touch, to place them on her body and bring her closer.

"You know you don't have to do this right?" He told her, eyes never making it to her face.

"You paid for a dance, so you're getting a dance," she clarified and continued her catwalk towards him, so elegantly he swore she was floating. She leaned down and placed a finger under his chin to force eye contact, "Besides, there are cameras in here, to keep the strippers safe, but to also make sure we do our job, so saddle up big boy, I'm about to take you for a ride."

Cassian swore this was some sort of witchcraft she was performing with the way she hypnotized him her body. The rock of her hips and the press of her pert ass as she sat on his lap like he was her own personal piece of furniture electrified his nerves, and it took everything in him to not cum from the sight.

His cock was hard and he knew she could feel it through his tight pants, and he didn't need to see the look on her face to know she was pleased by his body's reaction to her.

"You don't need to do this, I was only teasing," he breathed out as she continued to touch any exposed skin with soft, gentle caresses. The smell of her was more intoxicating than the alcohol he consumed. Cassian felt all the air leave his lungs when she straddled his lap. It may have started with him teasing her, but she was the one making the rules now.

"But so am I," giving him a sickeningly sweet smile and ground herself against him, feeling the outline of his bulge against her most sensitive parts, "Doesn't seem like you mind much."

Cassian swallowed, grabbing her hips and pushing her down in a similar motion. Nesta gasped at the sensation and peered down at him, placing her fingers in his hair, "You know, usually you're not allowed to touch the strippers."

"Doesn't look like you mind much."

Nesta gave a faux look of contemplation and shrugged, "For you, I could possibly make an exception." She'd never admit the jolt she felt up her spine as he repeated the previous motion.

A low feeling of satisfaction hummed in him at her breathy response and knew that he was having some sort of effect on her as well. He could see her pretty pink nipples poking through the thin material of her top, begging to be played with.

Noticing his attention back on her breasts, Nesta pressed her hands to his pectorals, trying to ignore the arousing feeling of hard muscle beneath her, and lifted herself, allowing him to run his hands over the swell of her ass for...support, as she brought her aching tits to his face.

She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head screaming at her for what she was doing, but she was far too heated to care.

Cassian squeezed her ass, moaning at the way his hands dug into the soft muscle and gave her a light tap, causing her body to surge forward and her breasts bounce. Fuck, he was so hard. Would it be in bad taste to cum in a strip club? It felt dirty and classless, but his every muscle was aching and his skin was set aflame as hers made contact with the sliver of exposed skin at his chest.

Nesta looked down into his eyes and the intensity of his arousal made her nervous. Not because she was scared he would hurt her, but because this was fucking Cassian Nassari, moronic jock and man whore who fucked anything that moved. She hated him, and he was making her wet. She hated him even more now.

A hand on the back of her neck caught her attention in what she assumed was Cassian bringing her down for a kiss, but that wasn't part of the deal, "Ah, ah, you cant kiss the strippers either," she bit playfully, putting a small soft finger to his lips which were inches from hers.

"Can't you make an exception, for me?" Placing a soft kiss on her finger.

She almost gave in, almost removed the barrier from between their mouths when the ding from the timer broke through the tension, "Sorry...times up."

The lack of warmth from her body caused him to groan as she untangled herself from him, patting down invisible wrinkles from the small piece of fabric that was to be a skirt and tossed her braids behind her, flashing him a little smirk before turning around and sashaying towards the door, seemingly unaffected by their previous activities, "See you in class, Nassari,'" she hummed, adding a quick little wink before she vanished from view.

Holy shit. He just got a lap dance from Nesta Archeron. The resident 4.0 teacher's pet just hopped on his lap and rode him until his cock was pulsing without even taking any clothing off. Who knew under the turtle necks and prissy attitude was a little minx. He would shout it to the heavens if anyone would actually believe him. How no one else had seen her before now was beyond him.

"Sir," came a soft voice from the doorway, where a tall blonde female stood, "What are you doing in here?"

Shit. He probably wasn't meant to loiter, "Sorry," he apologized, finally taking in his surroundings. He paused, looking suspiciously from the coat rack to the array of slinky dresses and shoes that littered the floor. He had been in a VIP room before but this...he looked over to the young women curiously, "Are there cameras in here?"

The blonde, gawking at the audacity of his question, threw the red pulps she was wearing at him. Cassian swerved, barely dodging it, "Sir, this is the women's change room!"

@nessianweek

#i think my writing is improving #but a lot to be improved on #nessianweek #nessian #nesta archeron #nesta #pro nesta #cassian #pro cassian #nesta x cassian #my nessian oneshots #nessianweek2021

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vanserrass · 3 years

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for it was music between their souls. always had been. and his voice was her favorite melody.

@nessianweek day 3: music

#nessianweek2021 #nessian #m

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

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Short and sweet and fluffy for day/prompt two of @nessianweek! Hope you enjoy :)

When Cassian unlocks the door and steps into the apartment, he finds Nesta fast asleep on the sofa. The end credits of some made-for-TV movie is playing on the television, filling the apartment with the bouncing beat and lilting voice of some pop song Cassian doesn't recognize. He takes Nesta in, her face pressed into a pillow and a blanket haphazardly across her legs and falling toward the floor. The sight leaves his heart swelling deep in his chest and flooding his veins with the type of adoration that still takes him by surprise.

He sets the things in his arms down on the kitchen island before creeping over toward Nesta's sleeping form. With light fingers, he brushes the hair away from her face and over her shoulder. He picks up the end of the blanket and resituates it across her body, gently tucking it in around her shoulders. Nesta doesn't so much as move or make a sound aside from the usual snuffles she makes in her sleep, so Cassian dares to lean down and press a kiss to her temple. He feels Nesta shift beneath his lips, but she just snuggles deeper into the pillow before settling.

Cassian has to bite the inside of his cheek to tamper down the stupid grin he can feel trying to climb its way across his face. If Nesta woke up and saw it, he would never hear the end of her teasing. Cassian isn't sure how it's possible to love someone so much, but somehow all the love he holds for her fits inside his heart. It seems to blossom and grow more and more with each day, leaving a kind of comforting light thrumming in his chest.

He gives himself another minute to admire Nesta before making his way back toward the kitchen. As quietly as he can, he turns the oven on and pulls out a baking sheet. He takes the pizza out of the box he'd placed on the kitchen island and settles it on the baking sheet before sliding it in the oven. While it bakes, he grabs his book out of the bedroom. He's just reading the chapter about car safety when the aromas of the pizza start to fill the apartment, delicious swirls of cheese and veggies.

He hears the shift of the blanket as Nesta wakes, and when he looks over to the sofa, he finds her sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She offers him a slow and sleepy smile when their eyes meet, and there's that feeling inside his chest again.

"What's that smell?" Nesta asks.

"A gift for milady," Cassian explains with an over dramatic flare of his hands.

Cassian pulls the pizza out of the oven and snags a plate from the kitchen cupboard. He piles a slice onto the plate before making his way over to the living room, sitting beside Nesta and holding out the plate to her. Nesta takes in the slice of pizza before her eyes find Cassian's again, the smokey blue swirling with confusion. Her brow pinches in a frown, and Cassian can't help but reach out with his free hand, smoothing the lines with his thumb.

"Is that…" Nesta starts.

"Pizza from Paulie's with all your favorite toppings?" Cassian finishes. "Yes, it is."

"But Paulie's is over an hour's drive away," Nesta protests, a disbelieving laugh coloring her voice. "You drove all that way for pizza?"

"Whatever you want, you get," Cassian explains easily.

He sets the plate down on the coffee table so he can lean forward, cupping Nesta's face between his hands and pressing a kiss to her lips. It's soft and gentle, and Cassian can feel Nesta sigh happily against his lips. With a smile, he pulls away and leans down, pressing an equally loving kiss to Nesta's rounded belly.

"And whatever you want, you get too," Cassian whispers against the fabric of her sweater.

"At this rate, she's going to come out already spoiled because of you."

"Good."

Nesta smiles down at him, her own eyes filled with adoration and love, and runs a gentle hand through his tangle of hair. Cassian's pretty sure his chest is going to burst at this point, and he's never been happier.

#my fic #acotar #nessianweek2021 #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian

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nessianweek · 3 years

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Announcing Nessian Appreciation Week 2021!

Celebrate Prythian’s hottest couple with us from September 19-25 🧡

Join us in celebrating Nesta and Cassian with an appreciation week. Feel free to participate in any way you can, from headcanons, fanart, moodboards, fics, drabbles…. no matter how big or small, anything celebrating Nessian is welcome!

Please tag @nessianweek and use the tag #nessianweek2021 to spread the word!

The list of prompts are as follows:

Promises

Gifts

Music

Rivalry

Alternate Universe (AU) Day

Fire and Ice

Free Day

Although the blog is run by @moodymelanist, a wonderful group of people worked very hard to make this come together. Thank you to @simpingfornestaarcheron, @talkfantasytome, @dustjacketmusings, @tealnymph24, @generalnesta, @bookstantrash, @arinbelle, @nehemikkele, @sarcasticsugarcookie, @spoilersteph, @the-bookish-valkyrie, @sirendeepity, @bookologist, @nessiansimp, @sv0430, @bookprofessor, @nessianlordandladyofillyria, @gojosatorurailmepls, @notmewrongbitch and @vidalinav for all your hard work in helping to plan this event!

We look forward to seeing what everyone comes up with, and a major thank you to the lovely @yazthebookish for designing the banner! 🧡

#nessianweek2021 #Nessian #Nesta Archeron #Cassian #Nesta x Cassian #acotar #acomaf #ACOWAR #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #SJM #pro Nessian #acofas

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thewayshedreamed · 3 years

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The Next Life

Written for Nessian Week 2021, AU day! (Even though my post is late because I fell asleep. 🤦‍♀️

Hope y’all enjoy this Nessian meetcute, inspired by some of their interactions/ dialogue in acowar.

@nessianweek

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There was something therapeutic about a casual stroll through a bookstore. Nesta hadn't wasted any time of making a full-blown coping mechanism out of it years before, allowing the smell of paper and the musings of various writers to distract from her own life.

She walked through the new releases and found herself in the poetry section, as she often did. The selection was vast; everything from Homer to Edgar Allen Poe to a tiny assortment of contemporary prose.

Nesta slid a finger down the spine of a book of poetry, watching the letters slide behind her fingers and reappear. She remembered seeing the poet's name on social media and quoted in the forwards of some of the books she'd read most recently. He was everywhere, and he'd apparently released his second collection not too long ago. How Nesta hadn't managed to get her hands on the first in his series by that point was a shock.

Nesta fanned the pages with her thumb, relishing in the way the draft of air felt across her cheeks. She stopped at a random page to sample the content; her usual method to see if she cared for the writer's style. Her eyes trailed the ivory paper and took in the minimalistic, black font. Rarely did a sequence of words, an innocuous string of letters truly make her breath still, but the burning in her chest proved that they could.

I have no regrets in my life but this. That we did not have time. That I did not have time with you.

I will find you in the next world— The next life. And we will have that time.

I promise.

— e. nalius

Nesta blinked at the page, blinked again. There was something so beautifully tragic about the message; how unfortunate that he'd found a half of his soul on borrowed time. She couldn't claim to be a hopeless romantic by nature, but Nesta believed in something bigger than herself. That meant that she understood very little about her universe and anything beyond, and by logic alone, the concept of soulmates was possible.

Maybe she was a little romantic.

She flipped through a bit more, scanning another couple of short poems before tucking the book into the crook of her elbow. The poetry collection wasn't as balanced as she would imagine for Temple Books, which led her to believe that another display existed somewhere. It was a bad day for Gwyn to have the day off.

That left Nesta the options to wander around aimlessly to look herself, or worse, speak to someone to ask them if they knew of another display. She strolled through a couple of sections, weighing the costs of each option against her desire for the companion to the book in her grasp.

Her eyes stayed locked on the various books as she moved from one aisle to another, and she added several to her mental "To Be Read" list along the way. The store wasn't busy since it was week day, which meant she could take her time perusing the other genres in her pursuit of the poetry section she still wasn't sure existed at all.

She rounded a new aisle, stopping short when a broad form came into her periphery. A man shared the space with her, still nearly 12 feet down the aisle, but his presence startled her nonetheless considering she'd grown used to being alone.

He was impossibly tall, broad-shouldered. His forearms were so long that he managed two stacks of books in his hold side-by-side, pressed against his side. His brows were furrowed as he scanned the various titles and moved to place them in the appropriate place. Admittedly, she could do much worse for herself if she was forced to ask a clerk for help.

Nesta approached him on quiet feet, careful not to startle him out of his concentration. "Excuse me?"

He oriented toward her, his eyes dragging from a title on the shelves before his attention snapped to her fully. His height was even more disorienting up close. That was without mentioning the way his scent; clean, yet smoky somehow, complimented the smell of books around them.

His bronze skin was the perfect backdrop for his features; onyx hair and eyebrows, full and dark eyelashes that framed bright hazel eyes. Nesta swore she saw three different shades of green alone.

"Hi," he greeted, a soft smile on his lips. His very full lips, if she was the type to notice such things.

Her cheeks heated, but she refused to seem affected by his attention. This was business, after all.

"Sorry—" she stammered. "—I'm sure you're busy." She took a deep breath. "You're clearly busy. Anyway, I was wondering if you all have another display or table of poetry? Contemporary, specifically?"

His lips quirked up in a sideways smile, his amusement drawing a thread of gold through all the greens she had noticed before.

"I really wish I could help, but I don't know much about poetry, and uhh—" He gripped the back of his neck. "I don't work here?"

Nesta bristled at her mistake and felt her defenses rising to the occasion. "Are you asking me?"

A chuckle bubbled out of him, and despite herself, a small smile spread across Nesta's face. Even she had to admit to being unfair.

"I come here from time to time, but no. I don't work here."

How often did he end up in her bookstore? Surely she would remember someone like him wandering around among the mere mortals, but she supposed her nose was most often in a book.

"I'm sorry I assumed. I saw you with all those books," she said, gesturing with her hand. "I thought you were putting things away or stocking the shelves."

The man looked at the heaping stacks in his arms and smiled sheepishly at her, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. It was hardly fair for him to be so handsome and seem so human all at once.

"Ah. Now that I think about it, that's fair. I'm actually shopping for a friend's birthday, but I overestimated my skills in picking something out for her. I've been here an hour already."

It was Nesta's turn to chuckle. She turned to place her book on a nearby shelf with her keys and phone, then turned toward him and extended her hands.

"Have you narrowed it down to genre, at least?"

She curled her fingers in a gesture to hand some of the books over. He paused for a second before snapping into action, transferring a few titles into her hold. His fingers brushed against hers in the process, and the contact sent a wave of heat all the way down to her toes. As much as his nearness made her heart quicken, there was something so familiar, so comfortable about him that made her feel as though he would appreciate the small favor.

"Historical fiction. Regular fiction. Some fantasy." he listed, brow furrowed again as if she'd asked him to recite Pi up to twenty decimal points. "Romance."

"So, you have too many options. That's the problem."

He looked up at her with one of the most earnest expressions she'd ever seen. "Yes. Exactly."

This had an unprecedented ability to force a smile over Nesta's face, but she didn't waste time picking that apart. Instead, she launched into problem-solving mode. They had narrowed down his haul to two books in a matter of minutes, and he decided then that the universe must have wanted him to get Mor two books for her birthday.

Nesta couldn't help her disappointment at knowing her name rather than his. They'd been talk too long for her to ask now, though, so she soldiered on with the hope that he'd offer it up casually.

"Just think, if I hadn't come to say hello, you could have been here for another 5 hours," she teased as they re-shelved the other books. Two of them never made it back to their original spot in favor of Nesta's own haul.

"I don't know if you can count mistaking me as an employee as 'saying hello'." He slid a playful glare her way through his side eye, daring to bump her shoulder with his. "Plus, I think you actually said, 'excuse me', Sweetheart."

Nesta rolled her eyes. "If that's what you call me, you don't know me well enough." She paused, allowing his laugh to skitter up her spine. "You know what I meant."

"I do." He turned to her with a serious look she hadn't yet seen. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, seeming to buy him a moment to gather his nerve. "For what it's worth," he rasped, "I'm glad you came over."

Her cheeks might as well have been on fire. She looked away to hide her blush, gathering the books she'd kept from their reject pile, along with her keys and phone.

"Right. Well, I'd better take off. I lost track of time and have some other errands to run before I get home."

Without so much as another glance, she turned to walk away. The man sounded as though he meant to call after her, but before he could get the words out, Nesta called out her goodbyes over her shoulder.

She lost herself several aisles down, trying and failing to convince her heart to stop beating roughly against her ribcage. There was a war raging in her mind, the interior of her chest. The intensity of what she felt around that beautiful stranger was terrifying, but there was a song in her blood that came alive in a way that she'd never experienced a day in her short life.

If she was the queen of anything, it was self-sabotage. Their interaction should have been something positive and exciting, something to revisit at another time in the interest of knowing him better. Instead, she'd gotten in her own head the second his behavior had even hinted that her interest was reciprocated. Her legs had carried her away as if the floor was on fire beneath her, and she hadn't even managed to get his damned name.

With another half-hearted pass by the center tables and several additional aisles, Nesta gave up her original search. She had the two she kept from Mr. Blood Song, so that would have to do for now. She gripped them tightly to her on her journey up to the check-out line, cursing her internal melodramatics.

The line moved quickly, and blessedly, she was soon walking up to one of the cashiers. The young girl was chipper, as sweet as could be, but Nesta could barely force her politeness over her need to escape. She wasn't sure she could risk running into him again after her more than embarrassing display of nerves.

As she set her books on the counter, she let out a low, rough curse. The cashier's eyes grew large, assessing Nesta for anything that could have been a sign of her wrong-doing.

"Miss, is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah." No. "Well, kind of. I just realized I left a book that I meant to buy on a shelf somewhere."

The first damned book she had picked up. In her haste to grab her things— well, make a fool of herself, in hindsight— she had completely forgotten the book of poetry that had initiated the whole mess. Her smoothness knew no bounds.

"Would you like to go grab it? I'll hold these for you!" Nesta had to give the girl credit for her willingness to hold the two of them together with her enthusiasm.

She considered, but two things were of concern. First, the line had continued to grow behind her, and she didn't want to be that person who cut to the very front or held the line up altogether. Second, that book was somewhere near where she'd spent her time with the charming non-employee, and subsequently embarrassed herself. She wasn't enthused about the possibility of bumping into him when he likely thought her to be a crazy person.

"No, that's fine," she insisted, shaking her head. "I'm here enough. I'll pick it up on my next trip."

The girl nodded and completed the rest of the transaction. Disappointment threatened to settle over Nesta's shoulders at her decision, for multiple reasons, but she clung to a small silver lining to keep from sinking into it. Perhaps the second book would be in stock by the time she visited again, and she could pick them up together. She moved through poetry pretty quickly, so having the second one on standby was the better option.

Offering her thanks to the cashier, Nesta gathered her keys to unlock her car. Just as she eased the door open to slip inside, a distinctly male voice sounded from behind her.

"Miss!"

Was he talking to her? His voice wasn't familiar, so it was more likely that he meant to capture someone else's attention nearby.

His voice sounded again. "Ma'am!"

Nesta paused, turning toward him slowly and making no attempt to mask her skepticism. The guy that approached her was young, and upon further inspection, she recognized him as one of the other cashiers from inside. He carried a small bag in his hand, holding it out to her as he approached.

"You left this behind. Glad I caught you before you drove off." He smiled, his eyes darting to his hand and back to her face in question.

"I have my bag right here," she countered, pointedly looking toward the bag hanging from her fingers. "I think you may have the wrong person."

"No, this is for you. The receipt is inside and everything. I meant to catch you if you didn't end up at my register, but I lost track of time." He deposited the bag into her hand, walking backward toward the store. "Have a great rest of your day!" With a broad smile, he was gone.

She looked in her own bag to see if maybe her own cashier had forgotten to bag both of her books, but they were both there. Something he said resonated with her while she settled into the driver's seat of her car, piquing her curiosity further.

I meant to catch you if you didn't end up at my register.

That insinuated that it had been there before she checked out. There hadn't been any books she'd pre-ordered recently, nor did she have anything on hold. Compelled by confusion and a base need to figure out the chaos of her afternoon, she shoved her hand into the other bag. She pulled out the contents to reveal the book of poetry she had insisted she would pick up later, E. Nalius' first collection. Her fingers danced lightly over the cover, offering her some mindless action to ground her while she thought through things.

There was one last variable to investigate before she allowed herself to be properly sketched out. She opened the cover gently to reveal the receipt that had been jutting out of the top. Flipping it over, she noted the sharp, sleek penmanship on the back. The full smile she allowed herself was as genuine as the flutter in her stomach while she read the short message.

The next time, I'll come say hello.

— Cassian

----------------------------------------------------

#nessian #nessian au #nessianweek2021 #nesta x cassian #nessian fluff #meetcute #acotar fanfic #acowar #the next life #twsd fics #twsd writes

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arinbelle · 3 years

Text

Made

Hello lovelies! Just in time for the last day of Nessianweek: Day 7 ( I know I barely did anything this week and I was late for one of the prompts). Please consider this my apology and contribution.

Thank you so, so much for reading, your comments are literally what keep me going, your reblogs give me life, and your memes are unparalleled and give me abs from all the laughter they make me do. Please never stop!

Enjoy! ;)

Ratings: Swearing, mentions of violence, no smut :(

~*~

Part VII

“My dear, please be careful. You no longer live only for yourself. You live for me as well.” ― Kamand Kojouri

Cassian ended the call between him and Rhys, both their tempers being stoked by each other's ire.

Cassian had no patience for it anymore. He wasn't a child. He was a grown man for God's sake, and he didn't need anyone telling him who he could or could not be seeing in his personal life.

Not that he was seeing Nesta, per se. But he wasn’t not seeing her either. She’d spent the night with him after he’d brought her back from her apartment while his clean up crew had taken away the body.

Then she’d stayed the day after. And the day after that. Cassian had lost track of time in her presence. She was like a drug, intoxicating his senses until he couldn’t think straight. It didn’t take much for him to get his hit. A kiss here, a soft touch there, and he was done for. And there was so much touching that was done.

It seemed the both of them were making up for lost time in the year they’d fallen off of each other’s radar. They couldn’t get enough of each other, couldn’t stop once they’d finished, and it wasn’t something Cassian was in any mood to discontinue. It was like a never-ending thirst to have Nesta, to claim her as his own in the few ways she would allow. And Gods above but it burned. Burned like hell and sin to be this close and to know that given enough time, she was going to push him away again.

So maybe Rhys was right in his trepidation of Nesta being in Cassian’s house alone with him. That didn’t mean it settled any easier for Cassian.

“What’s wrong?,” Nesta’s voice, raspy from sleep sounded from behind him. He felt the covers shift behind him from where she’d been laying and soon a warm hand was on his shoulder. Nesta’s hair fell over his front, tickling him briefly as she leaned in and kissed his neck from behind, slinging one of her arms cozily across his chest.

It was stolen moments like these that Cassian wondered what it was about him that kept Nesta from going all the way. What was he not able to give her, besides the obvious issues in their families, that had her hold back from being his completely.

Cassian wrapped a hand around her forearm, holding her tightly while he turned to burrow his face into her hair. She smelled like a mix of jasmine and his own shampoo, a fact that didn’t help the swelling ego inside of him that she was his. Mine, mine, mine something deep and primal screamed from inside him.

“Nothing,” Cassian admitted, pressing a quick kiss to her arm that was still, to his satisfaction, wrapped around him. “Just Rhys being Rhys. Don’t worry about it.”

Nesta scoffed and when she unwound herself from him, Cassian felt the disappearance like ice shards on his skin, pebbling in her absence.

“I don’t get why he hates me so much,” she finally said. Cassian decided to join her back under the covers for a few more stolen moments before the day had to officially begin.

Cassian hesitated once he was next to her though, especially as he took in her arms crossed over her chest and the general look of irritation on her face. Would she push him away? He hoped not.

Nesta didn’t stop him from wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. What surprised him was when she leaned into the touch and instead lay her head over his chest, one of her palms coming up to rest over his heart.

Could she feel his thundering heartbeat? Did she know why it beat for her like that? The answer terrified him either way.

Nesta traced the tattoo on the left of his chest lightly with her fingertips. Each touch felt almost reverent and it was easy to become lost in the caress and all that it didn’t mean to Nesta even if it meant everything to him.

“What does this mean?,” she asked abruptly, fingers splayed out wide over his tattoo.

Cassian didn’t want to think about it. Certainly didn’t want to remember it’s significance when it stood for everything he was ready to forsake for Nesta if she gave the word.

“Another time,” he promised gently.

And then, to take her attention away from the topic he didn’t want to discuss, Cassian consoled softly, “He doesn’t hate you, bella.” Nesta’s hair was soft to the touch as he ran his fingers through the dark strands. “He’s just...protective.”

Nesta craned her neck to look up at him. “What does he think I’m going to do to you? Kill you?”

Cassian didn’t blink.

Nesta pushed off of him. “Are you serious?”

“I didn’t say that’s what I think. It’s what he thinks. Between the gun you had pointed on me, which he knows about by the way, and the fact that you shot Balthazar, he’s not feeling too great about you. Can you blame him?”

Nesta grumbled. “No, I guess not. He’s still an ass.”

Cassian chuckled, pulling her back onto him. “That he is. Now I don’t want to talk about my brother.”

Nesta smirked, her hand dragging down his body knowingly. “What do you want to talk about?,” she asked coyly, innuendo coloring her question.

Cassian’s lips found her own in answer.

~*~

If their past two days together had been open and carefree, the tension between them was painful and palpable as he dropped her off to college.

“So, let me get this straight,” he started while he began driving into a parking spot. “You don’t work in a therapist’s office, do you?”

Nesta pulled her bag onto her lap from the back of his car, not wanting to meet his eyes. “I do. Just, not as often as I told you.”

Cassian took a deep breath in. Then out. She peeked a glance at him from behind her hair and thankfully, there wasn’t a trace of anger on his face at the confession.

“I’m still in grad school for psychology. It helps me out for that.” It was a stupid, last ditch effort to derail the conversation into something more palatable. At least for her sake. She had no idea how Cassian would handle all the new information.

Cassian finally shared his thoughts. “But you aren’t going to use the degree so why do it?”

Nesta bristled at the insinuation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Of course I-”

“Because I was just thinking about how you work for Nolan more days than not. You know, like you just admitted to me.” His voice was so soft it was easy to be falsely lulled into thinking he wasn’t upset. But after years of being around him, Nesta had come to learn that Cassian was at his worst when he was scarily quiet, so she let him continue. Let him get it all out. “So if you’re his personal hitwoman or whatever the hell he has you doing, I don’t get how you plan to fit in an actual career.”

“Fuck you,” she threw back without thinking, any attempt at letting him vent his frustration to her went straight out of his window.

“I’m just saying,” he stated matter-of-factly. It made her see red.

“Well I’m saying, it’s none of your business. I have to go.”

Nesta reached for the door but suddenly Cassian shifted his hands and she heard an audible click sound throughout the car. She knew it was stupid to even try it, but Nesta yanked on the handle of the car three times for good measure.

“Let me out.”

“Explain it to me.” There was something in his voice, something like desperation and pleading all wrapped up with regret that had Nesta face him.

“Explain what?”

Cassian ran his hand through his hair in irritation, gesturing widely. “I don’t know, this whole thing. Why do you work for him at all?”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t tell me or you can’t do something else? Just tell me how this even started.”

But she couldn’t. There was no way in hell she was going to tell him about her sob story and have him take pity on her. Maybe even loan her the money to pay off her father’s debts.

No. She’d done more than enough damage in people’s lives. People she cared for. People she loved. She’d be damned if she dragged Cassian into that mess as well.

“I can’t, Cassian,” she repeated. “Just let this go, okay? Please.”

Now who was pleading with who?

Cassian seemed to contemplate it. Maybe she should try saying please more often to people. Before she saw it coming though, Cassian’s hand had grasped her chin in a possessive hold. His hazel eyes bored into her own and Nesta briefly wondered if a person could be hypnotized into revealing all their dark and sordid secrets if the person doing it was beautiful enough. Because if so, Nesta was done for.

“Just promise you you’re okay. He’s not...,” Cassian struggled for words, his voice rough with worry, “That he’s not taking advantage of you.”

Oh he was. Definitely, Nolan was taking advantage of her. But not in the way Cassian was worried about.

Nesta wrapped her own hand around his, pulling it off of her face but choosing not to let go for a little while. “I promise I’m fine. It’s not like that if that’s what you were worried about. And I can take care of myself. Just...can we please drop this? Please?”

She let her lips form a pout and blinked at him a few times, batting her lashes. Cassian laughed at that and she felt her lips turn up of their own accord at the sight.

Cassian nodded and while it wasn’t a verbal okay, Nesta knew it was the best she would get from him as of now.

“Okay, I really do have to go now. Thanks for the ride.”

Cassian smirked but she heard the doors click open.

“I should be telling you that,” he reminded her, the suggestion prickling all of her senses back to life. Yes he was right. She’d climbed over him greedily that morning, riding him hard and fast until they’d both been left breathless and slumped against each other. Nesta on his warm chest and Cassian’s head lolling onto the headboard behind, his hands still digging into her ass, his dick still partially hard inside her.

“Cute,” she remarked. Before he could react, Nesta grasped his chin this time and planted a quick, searing kiss onto his lips before breaking contact and dropping out of the car. She ignored the fleeting look she caught of his face after she’d kissed him. The eyes widened in shock and mouth still left hanging open. It wasn’t exactly satisfaction that coursed through her when she reached the door and looked back, but it may have been something better.

Nesta waited at the door of the building until Cassian had reversed out of the parking space, waved goodbye at her, and drove off too far for her to follow with her eyes. Only then did she go into the old, creepy building and began the climb up the four levels of stairs to reach her class.

Why the hell was she paying this much tuition if the elevators weren’t even working?

~*~

Cassian hadn’t planned on acting like Nesta’s faux chauffeur for the day, Dropping her off to her morning classes and then picking her up for lunch, to which she insisted they had to have Panera Bread. “For the culture,” which he didn’t really understand, even if he did it without complaint. Then he’d dropped her off to her job with the therapist who he’d found out did actually exist.

Now here he was, waiting outside of the building like some psycho because she’d texted him earlier telling him she’d be out by eight and it was already nine.

Where the hell was she?

Just as he typed in his password to his phone, readying to call her for the third time in the past hour, Nesta walked out of the large glass doors. His excitement ended up being useless however, because as she reached his car, his phone blared loudly, Azriel’s name popping up on the screen.

“What?,” he answered, no longer caring about being nice. Not when he was interrupted from kissing Nesta hello after not seeing her for six hours.

“Okay asshole, hello to you too. What the hell crawled up your ass tonight?”

“Nothing, Az. What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

Azriel let out a rattling breath. “Not really. You know that clean up we did a couple days ago.” The body in Nesta’s apartment.

“Yeah,” Cassian answered, trying to act normal as he started up the car and threw Nesta a quick smile. “What about it?”

“So, we have a problem. He’s...well you know who he is. So, obviously his family started looking into him when he didn’t come home a few days ago and they know we had something to do with it.”

“What?,” Cassian snapped. He missed his turn onto the freeway and Cassian let loose a string of swears at the realization and at what Az had just told him.

Nesta stared at him and he struggled to remain calm. “What do you mean? How?”

“I think there’s a leak. My spies told me they somehow know we were involved in getting rid of his body. So now they may pay us a visit.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me.” Nesta didn’t bother trying to hide the alarm on her face anymore but Cassian didn’t have it in him to keep this conversation from her anymore.

Azriel spoke in a hushed murmur, “I don’t mean to be an ass here, but you know there’s a solution to this. It’ll save us resources and the threat of an attack.”

Yes, he knew that. But that didn’t mean shit to him.

“No,” he commanded without a moment’s hesitation. Cassian pulled up to his house, and there at the door, not to his surprise, was Rhys and Azriel with the phone to his ear.

Cassian ended the call and shut down the car.

Nesta opened her mouth to say something and Cassian knew she was curious about what she’d just heard. Cassian shook his head.

“Later.”

Nesta nodded, eyes narrowed onto Rhys as she grabbed her bag and made her way out of the car.

The fuckers were on him before he even had his keys out for the door. Azriel opened the door, already unlocked for them, and Rhys began speaking like he was on drugs.

“Look, I know it’s not something you’re into, but I think it’s our best option and-”

Cassian had to stop him right there. “Don’t even finish your sentence Rhys. I said no to Az, and I’m telling you no now too. Drop it.”

Rhys of course didn’t listen. He must have waited the two minutes it took for everyone to get into the living room, from where Nesta went to the couch, Azriel to the corner and Rhys right in his ear.

“I don’t care what you said Cass, you know that I’m right. The Irish know that we had something to do with Tamlin’s disappearance. We don’t have the means right now to deal with an attack from the Irish syndicate. We’re already struggling because of her family, or have you forgotten all the shit she’s caused to happen ever since you got involved with her?”

An accusatory finger was pointed at Nesta and Cassian realized in that moment that he’d never known such rage as he felt in that moment. Cassian pushed off of the table he’d been leaning on and drew himself up to his full height.

“Be a little more respectful Rhys, I won’t ask again. We aren’t doing it.”

It seemed Rhys wanted to get pummeled, because he didn’t shut up. “I don’t get what you’re thinking Cass. She killed him. It was her. Why the hell are we taking on damages for her faults? Tell the Irish it was her and be done with it.”

The silence in the room grew palpable as Rhys seemed to realize he’d gone too far. Even Azriel’s breathing seemed to be non-existent.

Nesta’s voice cut through the tension like a serrated knife. “Is that what this is all about?” She looked at Rhys. “You want to turn me in to Tamlin’s family?”

“We’re not going to,” Cassian reassured her quickly.

“You should,” Nesta stated without hesitation. “He’s right, you won’t be able to handle the Irish and the Outfit if they both attack you. I’ll need to make some calls and wrap some things up but I’ll go over there tonight and-”

Like hell she would. “No, you won’t. I don’t need you to do that, Rhys is just-”

“Right,” she cut him off. “He’s right even if you don’t like it Cassian. I’ll just-”

“Damn it,” he snapped, “I’m in charge here.” He turned to Rhys. “Not you. Not today brother.” He turned on Nesta. “And not you. So stop trying to get yourself killed for something I can handle on my own.”

Rhys looked like he wanted to fight it out more but Azriel cut in smoothly, calling for his help with something that likely didn’t exist. Soon it was just him and Nesta staring at each other from across the room.

“Cassian-”

“No,” he cut her off again. “Don’t listen to Rhys. And stop trying to convince me to do that either. I’m not changing my mind about this.”

“I can take care of myself,” she reminded him, a tinge of ice evident in her voice.

Cassian took three large steps towards her, until they were glaring at each other with barely a few inches separating them.

“You keep saying that but I’m starting to wonder if that’s true at all. You killed your sister’s boyfriend.” Nesta started to protest but he silenced her with a raised hand, “Yeah I know all about Feyre and Tamlin, don’t bother denying it. You offed him and then panicked and called me for help. Seems like you can’t actually take care of yourself all the time.”

Nesta’s stare was dripping with venom and her voice was cold when she answered. “Next time I won’t call.”

“That’s not the point,” he insisted now, begging her to see his point of view. Cassian grabbed at her hand, leaden at her side but still allowing him to hold on. “My point is you don’t always need to be on your own and be this one woman army. I’m glad you called me. I hope you always call me when you need help Nesta. I can help you. I want to help you.”

Something thawed in Nesta’s expression. Not enough to let him in, never that, but it was enough for him to swoop in and push this further.

Nesta squeezed his hand in her own. “And that’s something I’ll never forget Cassian. But I can’t rely on you to take care of me. Not when we live the lives we live and come from the families we do. It’s better to not...”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Nesta shook her head, subdued now.

“What?,” he insisted again. “Why won’t you let me in?”

Nesta dropped his hand and Cassian swore he felt the crack in his heart when she did. “It’s too complicated Cassian. I’d rather not get into it.”

“Like you don’t explain why you don’t date?”

It was a cheap shot but he couldn’t help it. It had been gnawing on him and festering inside him for two years now.

Nesta stayed silent.

“Why not? You told me once you don’t do relationships. Explain it to me.” She’d told him that after they’d had their one night stand that had become a year long stand, if that was even a thing. It had bothered him briefly but as time went on and he’d begun to fall for her, soon it just became a source of hurt rather than confusion.

“Why?”

Here goes nothing.

“Because that’s what I want with you, Nesta. Because we’d be perfect. We are perfect together. I don’t know if you don’t see it or you don’t want to, but either way, I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me have all of you when I’m ready to give you all of me. I’ve been ready to be yours for so long. Be mine.”

Nesta didn’t say anything back. Didn’t move a muscle or even blink her eyes. And that silence was answer enough for Cassian.

Cassian took a step back from her as the rejection washed over him.

“Az,” he called out.

Azriel’s voice mutely sounded back to him.

“Take Nesta home please?”

Nesta didn’t say goodbye as she made her way out the door.

~*~

I’m just trying to understand why you won’t let me have all of you when I’m ready to give you all of me.

Cassian’s words replayed over and over in her head as she sat in Azriel’s car while he silently drove her back to her apartment.

If he wasn’t currently sitting next to her with the brooding, dark look that seemed to be his permanent expression, Nesta was sure she would burst into tears. She’d hurt him. She knew that. Yet, she hadn’t been able to stop him and explain. To tell him that she had her reasons for holding back and Cassian wasn’t the problem.

“He’s crazy about you, you know?”

Azriel’s first words to her, ever. Of course they were about Cassian.

Nesta fought for control to keep her emotions in check. In case Azriel reported back to Cassian on whether or not she cried because of him.

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

The strangely quiet man snorted. “It’s not, and I don’t really give a shit about getting involved in other people’s problems, but he’s my brother. I love him and-”

“And you think I’m going to get him killed, like Rhys does.”

“I was going to say, if you let me finish,” he answered her with a pointed looked, “that I think you’re good for him. And he for you. You’re both just too damn stubborn to own up to it. Except Cassian did today and I know you feel the same so it’s kind of fucked up how you reacted. Or didn’t react at all mind you.”

“You were eavesdropping?” He hadn’t been anywhere near them, or so she’d thought, she’d spoken to Cassian alone. Clearly she’d been wrong.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you dude who I just met an hour ago. I’ll think about it.”

Azriel shrugged. “I’ve done my job then.” When he moved his shoulders, the top of his shirt moved and the portion that was unbuttoned let her see some of the skin underneath.

“You have the same tatto as him.” It wasn’t a question but Nesta wanted to know the story behind it.

Azriel’s eyes flicked briefly over to hers and for a moment, she worried he wouldn’t answer.

“It’s not the exact same. I have the same one as Rhys. So do all of our other men that are sworn to him as our Capo. But Cassian’s is unique to him. He had it designed himself. It’s his own mark.”

“Why do you have a similar one?” Nesta had no idea why she found herself so enraptured by the tattoo Cassian had but she bet it had something to do with the fact that he wouldn’t discuss it with her.

Azriel thought about it for a moment. “It’s a symbol of loyalty. Of duty. And family. It’s basically our oath to follow him as our Capo no matter what happens. It’s not something to take lightly either. Once you wear the mark we all have, you serve him and accept him as your leader.”

She understood then why he didn’t want to talk about it. After all, wasn’t it loyalty and duty that was the reason behind them being a secret to the outside world.

“What if,” Nesta spoke unsurely, “you have the exact same mark?”

“As Cassian?,” Azriel asked surprised.

Nesta nodded her head. “Yeah. You don’t have a matching one, just similar. What if you were to get the same one that Cassian has?”

Azriel got a funny look on his face. She realized he’d stopped the car and they were in her apartment complex’s parking lot.

“We have the tattoo we do because we serve and honor him as our Capo. He’s ours. But if you were to have the same mark as him, then you’d be his. Make sense?”

Nesta nodded. “Thanks for the ride. Goodnight,” she called as she shut his door and made her way home.

It wasn’t until she was in bed that she remembered Azriel’s words. Replayed them over and over again until she couldn’t handle it anymore.

You’d be his.

Cassian had practically pleaded the same thing with her when he’d made his feelings apparent.

Be mine he had said.

Nesta dialed the number from memory and after a few rings, Gwyn picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Are you busy?”

Gwyn scoffed. “No. Why? Are you?”

“No. Remember you told me once that we should get tattoos one day?”

“Yeah, and?” There was a rustling, as if Nesta had woken her up in bed.

“You said you knew a guy in Brooklyn?”

“Sure,” Gwyn seemed to catch on as she answered, excitement rising in her voice.

“Want to go now?”

There was only a few seconds of silence on Gwyn’s end until a squeal that almost broke Nesta's eardrums reached her

"Hell yes!"

Perhaps there would never be a true happy ending for them, but this, this at least she could give to him. Her heart and her loyalty, however secretly it may be.

~*~

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#acosf #acotar #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #nessian #nesta archeron #nesta #cassian #nesta and cassian #pro nesta #nessian mafia au #nessian au #made #nessian made au #nessianweek2021

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talkfantasytome · 3 years

Text

Bat Boys Photography

Nessian Week Prompt: Free Day

Cassian gets called to do a photoshoot for a new kitten. Not something he ever expected to do, but he's willing to give it a try. More than willing once he meets the kitten's mother.

Warnings: Innuendo 👀 | Word Count: 3,932| Read on AO3

a/n: Not edited. Don't come at me. 🙈

Honestly, I feel like I could've done this better - though it probably would've ended up longer too - but I was so much more inspired at the beginning than for the rest of the piece.

There are picture links scattered through - they're all my own cat, and I'm not sorry. He's gorgeous and he was a precious kitten. And a great inspiration for little Sellyn.

I also make no apologies for my head canon about Az. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

"Bat Boys Photography, this is Cassian."

"Hi!" an excited voice all but squealed on the other end of the line. "I have to say, that's such an interesting name choice, and I've been thinking a lot about it. Like, did you all get your start photographing bats? Or, are they just a mutual favorite animal?" Her voice lowered to a whisper as she spoke her next sentence. "Or, is it like, a weird kink or something? I mean, I read about things people do with, like, octopi…"

Cassian was frozen in his seat, on the verge of both horror and laughter.

The girl stopped and coughed softly, as if she realized what she was saying. "Sorry, anyway. I would like to book a photoshoot."

"Sure, no problem," Cassian sighed, grabbing out the appointment book. "What's the subject? And when would you like it done?"

"Okay, so, that's the thing - I'd like to do a photoshoot for this new kitten my housemate just got. He is literally the most precious thing and absolutely gorgeous! Only, well…kittens grow fast. Is there any way to do this within the week? I know it's short notice, but I didn't think about booking it until we actually got the baby!"

At this point Cassian was definitely holding in a chuckle. He'd heard people would do stuff like this for their pets - though more often it was for dogs - but he never expected to be hired for this. A cat photoshoot. He could understand a breeder wanting professional photos taken, or maybe for show animals - though he didn't love the concept of doing that to animals - but, just a house pet?

Well, it would be a new experience. And Cassian did like animals. Plus, he was a professional. He could give these girls the best photoshoot ever. He just might need to do some research.

"Actually, you're in luck," he said kindly, looking over the diary. "We had a cancellation for tomorrow afternoon. Would that work for you two?"

He heard a distant, delighted shriek at the other end of the line, as if she'd purposefully pulled the phone away from her head before making the noise. He appreciated the kindness.

"That would be wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'm off tomorrow and Nesta, my housemate, managed to convince her firm to extend summer Fridays to be all year. Would three be okay? Or is that too late?"

"Three is fine. What's your name?" he asked, having already jotted down the name Nesta.

"Oh, right! Sorry! It's Gwyn," she answered, her voice clearly still giddy. "And the address is 55 Wind Way."

"That's in The House district, right?" Cassian had a pretty solid understanding of the layout of Velaris, but it was a big city, very spread out, a bit like London or Sydney. And, instead of zones, they had districts, often named based on the general lifestyle or living arrangements in the area. He and his brothers lived in The Steppes, as their district was called, because it bordered the Steppes mountain range to the east of the city. The House was just south of there, its name given to it because it was full of actual, detached houses, instead of apartment buildings and town homes. The houses were also often fairly spread out, some bordering the woods at the south of Velaris. Most were fairly quaint and sat on about an acre of land, which was what differentiated The House from the other districts with detached houses, which all tended to offer much less space around the house.

"Yes! It, like, kinda borders The Steppes district. We're at the very end of our street, and there's a backdrop of woods and mountains behind our yard."

"Thanks." He wrote down the address and then went into his spiel about payments. Pricing, acceptable methods, and so on, then hung up the phone just as Az walked into their shared office, which was also the third bedroom in the house they shared. Az had been adamant about not wasting money on an office, even once they really started to make enough from photography to do so and fund their livelihoods.

"You'll never guess what I just booked," Cassian chuckled, turning to face his brother.

"Dog shoot?" Az asked, taking a seat at his computer to start working on photo edits.

"Almost…how do you do that?" Cassian knew he sounded exasperated, but Az always seemed to figure it out, even with no context clues.

"They're becoming more popular, and I know you think they're a lame reason to do a professional photoshoot," he explained easily.

"Well, it's not a dog shoot, so ha ha."

"Cat shoot, then?"

"Yes," Cassian grumbled. One day he'd find a way to surprise Az. One day. "Kitten shoot, technically. Tomorrow afternoon at three. Bit of a later appointment, but at least now we've got something coming in from tomorrow afternoon."

"Kitten shoot? That does sound adorable," Az breathed with a small laugh, turning to face Cassian. "I'll take it, if you want. My afternoon is free as well, and I am better with cats."

Cassian's face fell. "No you're not!" he argued. He loved animals, and he refused to agree with that statement, no matter how factually true it might seem.

Azriel's only response was a raised eyebrow.

"You can come with me," he offered. "And I can prove you wrong."

"One day, you're going to learn to stop trying."

"Whoa!" the redhead sighed, opening the door to see Cassian and Azriel on her front porch. She was looking up at them in shock. "You're so tall!"

"Are you Gwyn?" Cassian guessed. She sounded a bit like the one who had called, but people generally sounded a bit different on the phone.

"Yes, sorry, hi!" she exclaimed, giving them a wide smile that spread to her teal eyes.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Cassian," he said, introducing himself first. "This is my brother, Azriel. He'll be my assistant for the day." He gave his brother a shit-eating grin, earning a large eye roll in return as Gwyn looked Az over, something like interest or delight in her eyes.

"Great to meet you both as well! Come on in!"

Gwyn stepped aside, welcoming them both into the house.

It wasn't exactly small, but with him and Az standing in the foyer, it definitely felt rather cramped, but still cute. To their left was an archway that led into a comfortable yet stylish living room decorated in hues of gold, crimson, and orange. There were stairs to their right, Cassian assumed the upstairs was their bedrooms, and down the hallway he could see a smaller archway that led to a kitchen that seemed to have a very light vibe with white counters and cabinets.

"I'll go get-" Gwyn started, but before she could finish another voice rang through the house, sounding like it was coming from the kitchen.

"When do they get here, again?" the cold yet beautiful voice called, and Cassian could hear light footsteps from another room. "I still can't believe we're doing this. I mean, I know Sellyn is pretty enough, but it feels a bit sil-"

The voice halted abruptly as a woman with golden brown hair eyes appeared in the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in her tracks as she took in Cassian and Azriel.

Cassian's own eyes widened as he took her in. The sharp yet fluid lines of her face, her lean and curved body, the way she stood with her head held high. She had a slightly pointed nose and cheeks flushed with just the barest natural pink, and her hair was currently falling in loose curls, parted to the side and framing her face. But, what really grabbed Cassian's attention was the blue grey eyes that were focused on him. They were like little storm clouds, thundering in the distance, always ready to strike.

She was the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen.

He barely had a chance to catch his breath before she started speaking again.

"Oh, hi. I didn't realize you were already here. And sorry, I don't mean to be rude about your profession, of course," she started, eyes darting between him and Azriel awkwardly. "It's nothing personal, it's just, Sellyn's a cat, what's he going to do? Post these photos on his instagram? I mean, okay, yes, I probably will post some of them, and I'm sure they'll get some lovely responses, but he's been picking up a lot of followers with just my iPhone…It's not like these are going to be officially published for anything else, I don't think. Then again, you never know what Gwyn might set her mind on, but I don't want him to be a show cat, and I don't think he wants it either. He just wants to have fun and be loved, you know?"

Cassian stared in wonder at the woman, standing like an ice queen, babbling with a blush spreading across her face. It was a glorious contradiction that she pulled of perfectly.

"Don't worry, Cassian feels the same way about pet photoshoots," Az chuckled, slapping Cassian on the back and pulling him from his frozen stare.

"That's not true," Cassian lied, an apologetic look on his face. "We just haven't done one of these before, but it will be great. We'll make sure your kitten is having fun." He offered the woman a kind, hopefully encouraging smile. "And, as my brother pointed out, I'm Cassian. And he's Azriel, but you can ignore him if you'd prefer."

She nodded politely. "Nesta."

"That's a beautiful name, Nesta." A name that felt so perfect on his lips Cassian had to make sure he schooled his features so as not to give his thoughts away. But he knew he'd be using it as often as he could.

Looking down for a second, Cassian noticed a white head with light, orange color points poking out from Nesta's leg, bright blue eyes staring at him.

"This must be the kitten," he said softly, a gentle smile on his face as he looked at the fluffy, adorable little body. The cat couldn't be more than five pounds.

"Yes, that's Sellyn," Gwyn responded, Nesta's eyes watching Cassian closely as he knelt down and put his hand out to see if the kitten would come.

Based on that look, he definitely wanted to make sure he didn't do anything wrong. Nesta looked like she might eat him alive if he so much as made the wrong sound.

"That's quite an interesting name," he offered, his stare still on the small kitten, who was looking at him and his hand with wide eyes.

"He's named after a romance author we both adore," Nesta explained, still watching Cassian despite the fact that Sellyn wasn't moving one inch closer to him.

"Sellyn Drake?" Azriel guessed, the other three all snapping to look at him.

"You know him?" Cassian asked in shock, giving up and standing just as Nesta bent down to pick up the kitten.

He went limp like a ragdoll when she first picked him up before he curled into her chest, looking impossibly smaller in her arms and so comfortable. Her face soften as she looked down at Sellyn, one arm holding him, the other now moving as she gently pet his head. The purrs sounded through the foyer, louder than any he'd ever heard before, and the two looked so happy and content Cassian wished he already had his camera ready.

"Unlike you, I do visit book stores," Azriel shot at him, a knowing smirk on his face that Cassian caught when he finally looked away from Nesta and Sellyn.

"The romance section?" Cassian argued. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, and now small amount of satisfaction spread through him as he watched Az's cheeks flush a bright red.

"You read romance novels?" Gwyn gasped, her face opening into a look of sheer excitement.

Nesta 'hmm'd' from where she stood before saying flatly, "That's hot."

"What?" Cassian and Az said it at the same time, both looking at her in confusion.

"There's a reason romance is so popular," Nesta explained. "It's what we all actually want - the more everyone reads it, the more we'll be able to give to our partners."

Azriel seemed to be pleased with that statement, nodding lightly, but the blush was still there. Cassian was starting to wonder if maybe he should try picking up a romance novel or two.

"I'll keep that in mind," he muttered, his eyes back on Nesta. They kept finding their way back to her, as if they were trying to spend as much time as possible looking at her before being forced away at the end of the appointment. He agreed with his eyes - photographs wouldn't be the same.

Her stare found his, a small smirk on her lips at the comment he'd made. "Do let me know if you ever read one." There was amusement in her tone, and something else that had Cassian's heart racing.

Now he was definitely going to be picking one up. Or stealing a novel from Az, since apparently he had a few hidden away somewhere in their house.

"So, should we get started?" Gwyn suggested, walking toward Nesta and petting Sellyn behind the ear.

Cassian and Az both nodded, Az starting to unpack some of the equipment. It was a light load - just a few cameras, really - since it was a relatively small shoot.

"We can begin with Nesta and Sellyn, if that works for you all? Since he's already so happily situated in her arms," Cassian offered, his eyes back on Sellyn for a moment. The kitten looked like he was in paradise in his mother's arms.

They all agreed and Cassian got started, suggesting different poses, places for Nesta to sit, ways to hold Sellyn, who Nesta needed to keep one hand on at all times to keep in place. He took pictures of the two on the couch, the autumnal aesthetic working perfectly with the backdrop of the woods in the window, the trees in all different shades of red, yellow, and orange.

He had Nesta keep Sellyn on her lap, one hand petting him as she looked out the window, read a book, looked into the camera. There were some with her standing and holding him close, a couple with her and Sellyn on the floor, playing with a dangling toy. His favorites were the ones where she was completely focused on Sellyn. Her face changed and her eyes brightened as she smiled down at the kitten, as if unable to do anything but whenever she looked at him.

After playing for a bit, Sellyn was too riled up to do pictures with Gwyn, so they let him roam around, Cassian and Az doing their best to snap photographs of him and his little actions while Gwyn and Nesta egged him on.

Cassian's favorite was a two piece set he caught of Sellyn hunting a pillow. First he eyed the pillow like a predator, a look Cassian was certain he learned from his mother. And then he found success as he nibbled on the corner.

Professional hunter right there.

In that time, Cassian and Az each took a break, both trying to get a chance to play with the kitten for a bit, Cassian still determined to prove Az wrong. And he was failing miserably.

Sellyn, it seemed, loved to play with Az, and Cassian had to listen to both girls coo over how adorable the two were together as Sellyn would swat at the toy in Az's hand, or how he walked on top of Az's chest when Az was laying down.

Cassian, on the other hand, Sellyn seemed disinterested in.

He didn't actually hate Cassian. He just chose not to engage or interact with him in any way. It was rather depressing, as was the grin plastered on Az's face each time Sellyn ignored Cassian.

It, somehow, made it worse that this was Nesta's cat. That her pet, one she would likely use to help judge other people - considering so many other people did - didn't seem to have any interest in him.

Not that it should matter, of course. Nesta and Gwyn were clients he'd never see again. Or, at least, he didn't have to see them again, but damn him if he didn't want to. Especially after hearing Nesta laugh as Sellyn nibbled on her ear. It was soft, a meldoy that spread through his entire being.

He managed to grab a picture of that, and then another one of a big yawn.

"Oh, looks like he's getting sleepy," Nesta sighed. "Are you doing any pictures of just Gwyn and Sellyn."

"Um, yes!" Gwyn answered before either boy could even breathe. "I'm his other mother, I'm not some silly aunt."

Nesta chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Then I'd suggest doing those now."

"I can do those," Az offered, making Cassian's head snap up to his brother, a curious smirk growing on his face.

"All right," he agreed, setting down his own camera in his bag and walking toward where Nesta was now leaning against the archway. "These pictures are going to come out great," he said by way of greeting.

"Yeah?" she breathed, turning her head to look up at him.

"Definitely."

"Even if you find these photoshoots pointless?" she challenged.

Cassian huffed out a laugh. "I think you all proved me wrong."

"You mean Gwyn proved you wrong."

"No," he responded, his gaze growing intense as he stared into her stormy eyes. "It would have been pointless without you."

He saw Nesta gulp, her breath hitching as crimson flooded her cheeks. She looked down at her feet, not responding, and Cassian wanted to lift her face back up to look back into those eyes of steel. But he didn't. He turned to watch Azriel work and waited for Nesta to say something again.

He didn't miss the way his brother was smiling idiotically as he photographed Gwyn with Sellyn. Likely a mirror image to what Cassian had looked like earlier.

Nesta stiffened slightly beside him once she finally lifted her head, almost as if bracing herself for something, but she kept her gaze on her kitten as her voice filled the air again.

"Gwyn and I order take out every Friday. If you'd like, you and your brother would be welcome to join us," she said, her voice tentative and shaky. As if she was worried she was embarrassing herself.

She wasn't looking to see Cassian's face completely brighten at the offer, to notice the absurdly large smile he was now wearing. "We'd like that," he answered, his own voice cracking as he attempted to not sound too eager. He was sure he failed, seeing as what he wanted to do was jump up and down and shout a resounding 'yes'. He doubted Nesta would react favorably to that, so he decided to try something else. "But, only if you let us pay."

He watched as the corner of Nesta's lip twitched upward. "If we weren't already paying you I might argue, but since we are, happy to accept that offer," she replied as she tucked a strand of that golden brown hair behind her ear. Gods above. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to lift his own hand and brush it through her hair, then keep trailing it down to wrap it around her waist and hold her close, inhale her scent deeply.

Instead, they just stood there, a thick tension forming between them with each breath they took. He could see her chest rise and fall in his peripheral, the movements becoming bigger as if she were taking deeper breaths to calm something within her. He knew he was. The pounding heart, the jittery sensations spreading through his limbs, the constant swarm in his stomach that made him wonder if he'd actually be able to eat any of that dinner he'd now offered to pay for.

It wasn't much longer before Az and Gwyn were done and he was helping pack up their remaining equipment. They'd both agreed easily about the boys joining the girls for dinner, and soon enough all four were sitting on the large, crimson sectional as they waited for their food, Cassian and Nesta on one part of the 'L', Gwyn and Az on the other. The couch was comfortable, but Cassian felt it was a bit too big, allowing for far too much space between him and Nesta.

Sellyn jumped up and sat between Az and Gwyn for a moment, scanning the couch as if looking for the best spot, and Az shot him another smirk.

"Told you so," he said as he gave Sellyn a small scratch beneath the chin.

"Yeah, yeah, you win, cats love you more," Cassian grumbled, leaning back in his seat.

Nesta tilted her head at him. "Have you two been competing for my cat's affection?"

Cassian grinned at her playfully. "Not exactly the way I would define it, but the results are essentially the same."

"He didn't believe me when I told him yesterday I was better with cats," Az explained as Sellyn stepped on and then off of Gwyn's lap, slowly making his way around the sofa.

"At least he doesn't actively hate me," Cassian sighed. Sellyn gave a tiny 'mrah', as if to say he agreed, and then hopped over Nesta's lap, now circling the spot between her and Cassian.

"I'm sure he likes you just fine," Nesta offered kindly. "He's generally more shy around new people - I mean, he hid under the couch when our friend Emerie first came to meet him. Took him an hour to come out."

"And he never came out when Nesta's sisters stopped by," Gwyn added.

"That does make me feel a bit better," Cassian chuckled, slowly offering his hand for Sellyn to sniff.

For the first time, the cat allowed him to pet him, leaning into the hand that was almost as long as his whole body.

Then, to Cassian's complete surprise, Sellyn walked over and climbed into his lap, kneading his legs a bit before curling up into a little circle and shutting his eyes, his breathing evening out almost instantly. Cassian, on the other hand, almost stopped breathing entirely at the feel of this tiny little thing curling up on him, choosing his lap to sleep in. He now understood why Nesta was always watching the cat, her eyes glazed with a protectiveness akin to what one might see in a lioness' as she watched her cub.

In one move Sellyn had managed to wrap Cassian completely around his paw. And Cassian doubted it would take much longer for Nesta to do the same.

Nesta let out a breathed 'aww' at that and shift closer, softly stroking his head as he slept. "See?" she said softly. "He just thought you'd be a better cuddler than playmate."

Her scent hit him as she leaned over, crisp and warm and entrancing, and it struck him stupid. He felt his heart skip a beat as she continued to lean close, her shoulder brushing hers as she softly pet the kitten.

"I can assure you, Nesta," he whispered, low and guttural. Her eyes met his, and he was certain she could see the mischievous twinkle in his, a sparkle in her own a response to the unspoken words that accompanied his next comment. "I am more than adept at both playing and cuddling."

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nehemikkele @nestaisgod @julemmaes @live-the-fangirl-life @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @bo0kmaster69 @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @sv0430 @nessianweek

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