#throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab

[snelbz]

Swipe Left {Rowaelin Fluff AU}

A/N: We’ve been writing some aaangsty shit lately, and we needed a break to get some fluff out. Enjoy!

As always, written along side the loml, @tacmc​.

Attention, all passengers. All flights departing from Adarlan have been delayed, due to inclement weather. Please see the nearest information screen for more details.

Aelin dropped her head in her hands and groaned. She knew she should have taken the direct flight from Wendlyn to Terrasen, rather than booking the one with a layover in Adarlan. She knew she should have, but instead she decided to save a few bucks, and booked the cheaper flight, with the longer travel time.

And now Adarlan was experiencing some of the worst weather she’d ever seen.

As she looked around for an information board at her gate, a brilliant flash of lightning raced across the sky. The accompanying rumble of thunder shook the airport and Aelin begrudgingly accepted that grounding the flights may have been the right thing to do.

She sighed and pulled her phone out, noticing a text from Lysandra. She opened it, finding a picture of her feet shoved in the sand and a drink in her hands, with a text that read, Got my beach, got my beer. All I’m missing is you, bitch. What time do you get in?

She sighed and replied, Flights out of Adarlan we’re just grounded. No clue.

Her best friend’s response was short, sweet, and to the point:

Fuuuuuuuuck

Aelin laughed to herself, but closed out of her messages and began to peruse her social media apps, eventually opening Tinder.

She made a face, looking around the airport and thinking about how stupid it would be to thumb through her possible matches while in a another country. Especially one she wasn’t staying in for very long.

And then decided, why the hell not.

A blonde man who looked far too much like her cousin was the first that popped up.

No, definitely not.

Then a young man with striking blue eyes, raven black hair and a mischievous grin graced her screen. Mmm, maybe…, she thought to herself, scrolling down to read through his bio. Loves dogs, an avid reader, and-.

Nope, to the left he goes. A doctor. 

Aelin wasn’t sure she could handle dating another doctor.

On and on she went, finding a flaw in nearly every profile she looked at.

Muscle head. Swipe.

Drinks too much. Swipe.

Doesn’t drink enough. Swipe.

Too old. Swipe.

Too young, she thought, swiping left at the photo of a teen in his high school basketball uniform. He’d definitely lied about his age to get on here.

And then she was pinned in place by the most striking pair of green eyes she’d ever seen.

And those cheek bones, by the wyrd, she was jealous.

She scrolled through his pictures, wondering if the silver hair was natural or if he had to dye it to keep it that shimmering hue.

Gods, he was gorgeous. She looked through his pictures again, every single one of them a candid, but couldn’t help but hear that little voice in the back of her head.

What’s the catch?

He’s definitely too good to be true.

Scrolling down, she decided to read through his bio.

Rowan, 28

11th grade history teacher by day.

Whiskey aficionado and trivia extraordinaire by night.

Aelin blinked at the short and sweet description the man had written for himself and after swiping through his pictures one more time, decided there was no way this guy was real.

She was sure that whoever this Rowan guy was, he may have been an eleventh grade history teacher, and he may have been kickass at trivia, but there was no way in hell he looked like that. No, she was sure that was just some poor, unsuspecting model, with the most kissable, gorgeous face she’d ever seen, who’d had pictures lifted from his personal Instagram. She even thought about trying to reverse image search the model to see if she could figure out who he was. If she did, it would only be fair of her to let him know.

But until then, she wasn’t exactly in the mood to be catfished...again.

She swiped left, sending him to the pile of men she’d rejected.

“Ouch, so that’s a hard no, then?”

The voice came from behind her and Aelin whirled, so fast that her blonde hair fanned out around her.

That hair. Those eyes. That damn bone structure.

Aelin blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The man - Rowan, she realized - chuckled. “Can’t say it wasn’t entertaining watching you swipe left on the entire male population of Adarlan.” He smirked. “But after spending so long on mine, I thought you’d at least swipe right.”

Aelin was still stunned. “Fuck, you’re not a catfish?”

A silver brow arched and he chuckled again as he said, “No, definitely not a cat or a fish. All male.”

“So you teach teenagers?” She asked, gesturing to him. “So that’s your real job, even with a face like that?”

He asked, “A face like what?”

“You’re gorgeous,” Aelin said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, then she realized what she’d said. She covered her face with her hands, feeling her cheeks and the tips of her ears reddening.

But his grin only widened as his eyes narrowed, the most ridiculously handsome, smug look crossing over his face. “Do you judge everyone so harshly? What? I can’t be pretty and smart?”

Aelin’s hands slid off her face as she met his gaze, once again. “I never called you pretty.”

“But you called me gorgeous,” he countered, and at her scowl he breathed a laugh. “I’m Rowan.”

“I know,” she said, and held up her phone. “I cyber stalked you, remember?”

“Ah,” he said, leaning forward. “I can’t deny I did the same to you, Aelin.”

Oh, she liked the way her name sounded on his lips. His voice alone, that accent, had her toes curling.

“Did you swipe right?” She asked, slipping her phone in her back pocket.

Rowan smirked. “Guess you’ll never know, since you decided to swipe left.”

He adjusted the laptop case on his shoulder and winked, before walking over and sitting down at the closest plug, leaving Aelin staring.

————

How to unswipe left on tinder.

The question she typed in her browser mocked her and she sighed.

She picked at her unappetizing chicken - she thought it was chicken, at least - she’d picked up in the airport food court and looked around. The place was packed, travelers from everywhere stuck here until the storm passed. Almost every table was occupied, though she had gotten lucky and found one of the small ones by the wall. She was inclined to stay here until her flight finally departed, but she figured she could at least go to the bar until her flight and give someone else her table.

She was putting her trash on the tray, getting ready to get up when a head of silver hair sat down at the table across from her.

She blinked, watching his every movement as he plopped his tray down on the tabletop. He, unlike Aelin, went with burrito. After consuming her chicken...ish lunch, the burrito looked wonderful. She eyed it with envy.

“May I join you?” he asked, not bothering to wait for her to reply as he unwrapped the burrito from the foil and taking a bite.

Aelin opened her mouth to reply, but her lips snatched shut. She had already finished eating, was ready to go waste her time elsewhere. “I was headed to the bar.”

Rowan nodded, slowly, as he took another bite. He waited to swallow before asking, “So, first you swipe left, then you don’t want to eat with me? Apparently I need to take a hint. Then again...you did say I was gorgeous...so.” 

Aelin was caught somewhere between wanting to run and hide, and wanting to jump his bones. The latter was more appealing, but the former felt easier, all things considering. 

She pursed her lips. “Did you swipe, right?”

The gleam in his eye was wicked. “Have lunch with me.”

She exhaled through her nose. “Fine.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act so excited about it.”

Aelin closed her eyes and sighed. She was being a bitch.

Well, she was a bitch, but she was letting her bitch show.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You kind of...caught me on an off day.”

He looked around while he chewed,at their surroundings, at the people around them. “Yeah, I think we’re all having an off day.”

Aelin let Rowan eat, not asking him questions every few minutes, despite wanting to, though she did respond to his while he quietly ate.

He asked what she did for a living, she said she didn’t know because she was on the way home from graduating college. He asked what her degree was in, she said literature and English education.

He was balling up the aluminum foil and standing when he asked, “So you have a degree in education but you don’t know what you want to do for a living?”

They grabbed their various bags and carry-ons and she shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

He said, obviously, “Have you thought about teaching?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I have, but I have more passion for literature and English than I do for standing up in front of a classroom full of kids only to be disrespected and unappreciated.” 

Rowan looked at her, thoughtfully. “I had the same fear when I began, once I got my degree. But, I fucking love history, and my kids, for the most part, are great. If you choose to become an educator...well, the vibe of your classroom is in your hands.”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed but she didn’t protest. “Come get a drink with me.”

Rowan arched a brow. “Is this a date?”

Aelin put a hand on her hip. “Did you swipe right?”

He tilted his head. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“You said you’d tell me if I had lunch with you,” she laughed.

“I didn’t, actually.” He was smirking and Aelin wanted to wipe it off his handsome face, in whatever way she could. “I just mentioned that you should eat with me after I asked and you chose to.”

Aelin opened her mouth to disagree but then snapped it closed. He was right. “You tricked me.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

She stopped walking and he stopped and turned. She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Tell me if you swiped right and I’ll have a drink with you.”

He smirked. “Deal.”

She crossed her arms, waiting.

Rowan just arched a brow. “Come on. I’ll tell you after the first drink.”

Aelin’s mouth fell open, but Rowan was walking away, down the terminal. Aelin wanted so desperately to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he confessed, but she didn’t. Unable to control herself, she only walked after him, intrigued.

“What gate are you flying out of?” Rowan asked as she caught up to him. 

She knew exactly which gate it was, but she wanted to see if she could make him squirm. “C.”

She kept her head straight, didn’t glance over at him as he looked at her. She just asked, “You?”

That half smile returned and she knew that he knew she was trying to mess with him. “C, as well.”

They got to the bar and sat down, being waited in quickly, despite the larger than normal crowd. Aelin ordered a jack and coke and Rowan a 7&7.

The bartender gave them their ID’s back and said, “Thank you, and happy birthday, Miss Galathynius.”

She cringed as Rowan turned to look at her. “It’s your birthday?”

She lifted her hands and gave a half-assed attempt at spirit fingers. “Surprise.”

He stared at her for a moment before he said, “You should’ve said something.”

“What’s the point?” she muttered.

Rowan blinked, still watching her through his side-eye. “What do you mean?”

Aelin snorted as their drinks were slid in front of them. “I was supposed to be celebrating my birthday at home, with my best friend on the beach; but, instead, I’m here, stuck at the airport. I don’t even remember the last time I’ve had an interesting birthday.”

Rowan nodded. “If it makes you feel any better, I spent my last birthday in the hospital.”

“What?” Aelin asked, sipping her drink. “How?”

“Horrible food poisoning,” he laughed. “I’ve never been that sick in my life.”

Aelin shook her head. “Maybe we can celebrate our birthdays together.”

Rowan chuckled. “My birthday was five months ago.”

Aelin took another drink and set her glass down. “And?” She shrugged. “It’s someone’s birthday everyday. Why not make it yours?”

Rowan eyed her for a moment, his lips teasing the edge of his glass. Then, he said, “Alright. Fine. Today is both of our birthdays, what should we do?”

“Raise hell, obviously,” Aelin answered, shrugging, as she took a sip from her glass.

Rowan only grinned. “And what does raising hell look like to Aelin Galathynius?”

She smirked, but a thunder clap drew her attention to the windows they sat across from, to the storm raging outside. A crease formed between her brows. “Definitely doesn’t look like an extended layover in Adarlan.”

Rowan watched her, wanting to brush back the hair that slipped from behind her ear. He turned to the bartender and said, “Two shots of Gentleman’s.”

Aelin’s eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s one way to wake hell up.”

The small glasses were set in front of them and Rowan said, “To raising hell, Miss Galathynius.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and threw the shot back.

The bourbon warmed her entire body and she shook her head, blowing out a sharp breath. Rowan was watching her, a small smile on his face. He paid up their tab and they made their way over to the information board by the bar entrance.

“Has yours been updated?” Rowan asked, scanning the flights.

Aelin found hers instantly. “No, still just delayed.”

He nodded. “Mine too.”

“So,” she began. “What’s next on the birthday agenda?”

An easy smile spread across his face as he said, “Presents.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Presents?”

They walked over to one of the small convenience stores tucked in between the Starbucks and the restrooms. “Since today isn’t actually my birthday, I don’t get anything. But you do.”

She looked at the glorified gas station snacks lined up in the fancy shelving. “Oh goodie, a Snickers bar and the latest issue of Erilea Weekly.”

“Is that what you want?” He asked.

She laughed. “Not really. I don’t need anything though.”

“Everyone needs something on their birthday.” Aelin glanced up at him and he was looking down at her.

You could kiss me, she thought. That would be a pretty good gift.

Instead she said, “Okay, then surprise me.”

Rowan’s smile grew. “Gladly.”

Rowan took a step and Aelin followed, but then he froze, and blinked. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean what am I doing?” Aelin asked, taking a step back, confused.

But Rowan only arched a brow and grinned. “If I’m going to surprise you, you can’t see what I pick out. Go away.”

Aelin snorted but sighed. “Fine. My gate is C-17. I’ll be there when you’re done.”

Rowan’s smile was triumphant. “See you there.”

Aelin headed back to the gate, sitting by the window and watching the storms swirl around them. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. It was Lysandra, but no picture accompanied her text this time.

How goes the long, boring wait?

She sighed. Long and boring. I have company though.

The text immediately showed “Read” and the grey typing bubbles reappeared.

Company? How?

Where? The airport?

Is he hot?

How did you meet?

Aelin smirked and typed back. I swiped left on him.

The bubbles reappeared and left and reappeared. I’m not following.

He’s gorgeous, so after hardcore staring at this face, I decided I didn’t want to get catfished.

So I swiped left.

And then I turned around and found him standing there, looking just as pretty as his pictures.

She hit send and waited, anticipating Lysandra’s next question.

What’s his name??

She laughed, knowing that Lysandra was probably driving Aedion insane with her commentary.

She replied, Rowan. And no, I don’t have a last name, but I think he’s flying into Orynth and he’s a history teacher.

The message sent and Aelin waited for her reply. The message was read, but nothing came in.

Twenty minutes later, when Lysandra hadn’t texted back and Rowan hadn’t shown, Aelin began to chew on the inside of her cheek.

She suddenly felt ridiculous. Most likely, Rowan had used it as an excuse to get rid of her. They were strangers, and nothing more. He wanted to get her a gift? Bullshit. He probably thought it was pathetic that she was spending her birthday alone in an airport and was getting a laugh out of the whole scenario. 

Aelin rose to her feet with the intention of grabbing her bag and going to the ladies room just for something to do, but then she saw him coming toward her, a shopping bag in hand.

“Going somewhere?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She dropped her purse back into the seat she’d been occupying. “Just to the ladies room.” She smiled sweetly, hoping he didn’t realize she’d been about to bail.

Granted, she thought he’d bailed on her.

He nodded. “Well, then, I’ll be here.”

He sat down in the spot next to the one she vacated and smiled at her.

Aelin began to walk away, but she turned and looked back at him. “By the way, you’re not, like, a serial killer that’s going to sell my organs on the black market, right?”

Rowan laughed, the sound rich and full and reminded Aelin of a bonfire on a crisp Autumn evening. “No, I’m not a serial killer and no, I won’t sell your organs on the black market.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Or the white market?”

He shook his head, chuckling, “How about this? I have no intention of causing you any bodily harm or removing your organs from where they already are.”

Aelin smiled and nodded, and continued into the bathroom. When she was washing her hands, her phone vibrated again and upon she pulling it from her pocket, she discovered why Lysandra had gone dark.

His name is Rowan Whitethorn. He’s twenty-eight, fit as fuck and looks like he could fuck you into a fit. He’s a teacher at Orynth Prep, where he’s also the coach of the varsity baseball team. His birthday is January seventh and he has a kitten named Snowball.

Aelin sighed and shook her head, laughing at her best friend.

You’re terrifying sometimes, you know that, right?

Her phone buzzed again.

Enjoy, bitch.

Then about twenty pictures flooded her inbox.

She had done a thorough job, Aelin had to admit. The few pictures she sent of Rowan shirtless certainly proved her “fit” comment. She didn’t feel the least bit shamed as she zoomed in on his washboard abs.

Aelin couldn’t help but stare, and gape, before she shoved her phone back into her pocket and went back out toward the gate, where Rowan was still sitting, scrolling through his phone. The second he sat her coming, his phone was put away.

“I was beginning to think you got lost,” he said, cocking his head to the side. 

Aelin cleared her throat. “I- yes, I did.”

His eyes flicked to the bathroom, which was a direct line to where he was sitting.

She sat and tucked the loose hairs behind her ears. “So what’s my present?”

She smiled and he couldn’t fight the tugging on the corners of his own lips. He handed her the shopping bag. “Happy birthday, Aelin.”

She opened it up, first pulling out a stuffed teddy bear, that was red and gold, the colors of Adarlan’s flag. In the center of its stomach was a big gold heart. She laughed. “Cute.”

He shrugged as if to say, I know.

She reached in and pulled out a t-shirt that read I’d rather be spending my birthday on the beach, but I’m stuck with a hot piece of ass at the airport.

Aelin threw her head back and laughed. “Where did you find this?”

He was chuckling himself. “You can convince people to make anything for the right price.”

She shook her head and pulled the last item out of the bag. It was a glass shot glass. Aelin didn’t even read the text printed, because Rowan said, “I was hoping you’d take a shot on me and let me take you to dinner.”

Aelin stared at him, blinked, then howled. Rowan watched her as she laughed, heartily, his slow grin spreading.

Once she calmed down, she wiped at her eyes and said, “Well, I can’t say no to that, can I?”

Rowan’s eyes were soft as he said, “I was hoping not.”

Aelin put her gifts back in the bag and said, “Thank you, really. This was sweet.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, softly. “Is that a yes to dinner, then?”

She smiled, and took his hand, resting on his lap. “It’s a date.”

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowaelin au #toab tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #shara writes #the shara tag

[theladyofdeath]

Omg I love when you and Shelby write together 🤩🤩and I have a prompt!! “I might have had a few shots”

we LOVED writing this prompt! And, of course, we chose Elorcan because we’re trash. Enjoy this fluff written by @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty and myself. ;)

Elide had slipped on an old tee shirt, ready for bed. Her hair was thrown up into a bun on the top of her head and she walked down to her kitchen, getting the coffee maker ready for the morning. She yawned and smiled thinking of the next day. A Saturday, with absolutely nothing planned.

Just the way she liked it.

She’d just turned the tv on when she heard her name being yelled from outside her front door, then a loud, obnoxious knock.

She threw her blanket to the side and ran to the door, just as her name was called again. She couldn’t tell if it was in agony or annoyance, but she opened the door with trepidation anyways.

And found Lorcan bracing his arms on either side of her door frame. Even so, he still towered over her.

“Hi,” he said, laughing. “Whatcha doin?”

Elide blinked, then looked over her shoulder at the clock on the microwave. “Are you…drunk?”

He smirked and said, “I might have had a few shots.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “And by a few, you mean?”

His eyebrow furrowed, which could only mean he was trying to count in his head. “I lost count after number seven.” When Elide’s mouth dropped open, he pointed at her. “But! Whitethorn said I couldn’t out drink him. That bastard owes me $50.”

Elide said, “Oh my god,” and rubbed her temples.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?”

She looked up and saw genuine curiosity — even if it was a little hazy — in his gaze. “Of course, I am, it’s just- how did you get here, Lorcan?”

His eyes narrowed as if trying to remember. “I think I took a cab.”

Elide shook her head. “Just…come in.”

He did, and toed off his massive boots off without Elide needing to ask. They landed by her tiny pair of Vans, absolutely dwarfing them.

He strode inside, throwing his long hair back over his shoulder. “Hey.”

She shook her head and chuckled. “Hey, you.”

He stopped and looked around, sniffing. “Do I smell popcorn?”

She laughed. “Yes, you do. Come on.”

“Were you watching a movie?” He asked, plopping on the couch.

She watched him, slowly closing the door behind him and following him into her living room. “Yes. I was going to. I have tomorrow off.”

He began eating her popcorn. “Oh. I want to watch.”

“Okay,” she laughed, and walked around the back of the couch. “Do you want something to drink?” Before he could answer, she cut him off and amended. “Something non-alcoholic.”

He huffed. “You’re no fun. Do you have a water bottle?”

“Sure do.” She made her way into the kitchen, coming back with a water bottle and a glass of red wine.

“Hey!” He protested, reaching for the wine.

“Ah ah, nope.” She slipped the bottle into his hands. “Mine. You’ve already had at least seven shots. I’m cutting you off.”

She took a sip of her wine and he pouted, blowing a lock of his hair out of his face.

“What movie are you watching?” He asked, a moment later.

She shrugged, taking a sip from her glass. “Romantic comedy. It was a long day. I need some laughs.”

Lorcan raised a brow. “Bad day at work?”

She sighed. “I spilled a tray of drinks on an elderly couple after tripping over my own two feet so, yeah, something like that.”

He snorted, earning a glare from Elide. “You should’ve gone out for drinks with us.”

She had gotten the invite from Aelin a few hours before, but had ignored it. She shrugged. “Wasn’t really in the mood at the time.”

He nodded and leaned back on the couch. A comfortable silence filled the room while the movie started, and Elide tucked her legs underneath her on the couch. She set the glass of wine on the coffee table.

With grace that a man of his size and inebriation should not have, he quickly snatched it up and brought it to his lips.

“No, no, noooo,” she drawled, grabbing it back. “This is mine. And I don’t share.”

“Not even with me?” He asked, a hand to his chest.

She had always found Lorcan ridiculous when drunk, mostly because he was typically far more serious.

Even though he had always had a soft spot for her, and her alone.

“Not even with you,” she said, smiling. “Especially when I can smell your whiskey-coated breath from all the way over here.”

He propped his foot up on her coffee table and brushed his hair, once again, out of his face. “You wound me, woman.”

She couldn’t help but watch him out of the corner of her eye as he relaxed, completely unreserved. He never let anyone else see this side of, always so on edge around the rest of their friends. He glanced her way and caught her eye. She blushed and snapped her eyes back to the tv.

“What?” He asked.

She just shook her head and took a large sip of wine. He pinched her side and she squealed, much to his delight. Her living room filled with his laughter.

It was a rich, melodic sound that Elide thrived upon. He could pick on her all he wanted as long as it made him laugh like that.

“You’re a pain in the ass,” she said. “I hope you know that.”

He hooked his hair behind his ear and gave her a smile that had the power to end wars, until the hair slipped loose and fell into his face. He sighed through his nose, as if the hair that couldn’t stay out of his eyes was the root of all the world’s problems.

Elide laughed and said, “Turn around.”

His eyebrows furrowed again. “What, why-?”

“Just do it,” she said, and he did as he was told.

She slipped the ponytail from her wrist and gathered his dark hair at the back of his head. She combed through it with her fingers, scratching lightly at his scalp with her nails. As she tied it into a knot at the back of his head, she heard a quiet rumble emanate from chest. She twisted his head up and around until he was looking at her and laughed. “Did you just purr?”

He blinked. “That depends. Was it sexy?”

Elide snorted. “Yes, I find happy cats incredibly sexy.”

Lorcan snapped his teeth at her, as if it would ever be intimidating.

She pushed him back to his side of the couch and stretched out, her foot resting against his denim clad thigh. “There, your hair problems are solved.”

He gave her a look. “Man buns aren’t really my thing. Ashryver usually rocks this look.”

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. With his hair swept off his face, she could see the strong definition of his jaw line, the warmth in his dark eyes, the rugged handsomeness that she tried so hard to ignore.

She picked her glass of wine up and said before taking another large drink, “You should wear them more often. They suit you.”

Something sparked in his eyes.

She held his gaze.

And took another drink, draining her glass.

She stood and made her way back into the kitchen, refilling her wine glass and taking a second to take a deep breath.

Lorcan has always affected her like this. He let his walls down with her, something he didn’t allow anyone else. He’d always flirted with her and they joked around, but there was always someone else to be a buffer between them. So rarely had it just been the two of them, uninterrupted, and never for such a long period of time.

She joined him on the couch once again, and he picked her feet up, placing them in his lap and rubbing the ankle that was always sore, his eyes trained on the tv and the movie before them.

He yawned, the aftermath of his alcohol consumption.

She drank deeply from her glass of wine, set it on the table and she watched him.

She watched his eyes follow the characters on the screen, watched the way his fingers moved along her bare feet. She watched the way his jaw hardened, watched the way his chest quickly rose and fell.

He was fully aware she was watching him.

It wasn’t until after she watched his lips twist into a smirk that she realized he’d been lulling her into a false sense of security.

His left hand wrapped around her foot while his right hand’s fingers attacked the bottom of her foot. She squealed, trying to jerk her foot from his grasp, but he held on too tightly. He tickled her and she erupted into a fight of laughter, giggling until she was nearly in tears and was begging him to stop.

But he did no such thing.

It wasn’t until she lunged herself at him and began smacking him that he stopped, only to grab her wrists.

She could see a brilliant gleam in his eyes.

Could smell the whiskey on his breath.

He did not take his hands off of her wrists. He only pulled her towards him.

She went willingly, until she was sitting across his lap. He transferred both of her wrists into one, and wrapped the other arm around her waist, holding her to him.

Their lips were so close, she could feel his breath fanning across her face. They had never been so close to each other, so close they could share breath. His eyes flicked down to her lips and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

“There’s wine on your lips,” he whispered.

Her tongue darted out, wetting her lips and tasting the wine.

He watched that movement, although her eyes never left his.

Elide’s cheeks burned when Lorcan said, “I want to taste.”

His voice was low, sultry.

Her voice was too high when she spoke, breathy. It also didn’t hold the teasing tone she tried for. Instead, she sounded terrified. “I thought I cut you off. No more wine.”

He leaned close, any closer and his lips would be on hers when he said, “I don’t give a damn about the wine.”

He took her bottom lip into his mouth and sucked, stroking it with his tongue.

Then he leaned back and grinned at her expression. He didn’t have a chance to say another word before her mouth was on his.

Her hands were in his hair, pulling him onto her, leaving no space in between them.

His hand had released her wrists and it now cupped the back of her head, as he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. She opened for her him and he groaned, deep and low in his chest, as his tongue brushed against hers.

He tasted like whiskey and Elide wanted nothing more than to get drunk on him.

Lorcan tugged at her hairband, pulling her long, dark hair loose.

In fell around her shoulders, brushing his arms.

He took a strand and twisted it around his finger before pressing his mouth to her neck, just below her jawbone.

“Lorcan,” she breathed and he growled, pulling her tighter against him. “No, no, Lorcan, stop.”

He immediately did as she wished, removing his lips from her skin, but not moving, not letting go of where her hair was wrapped around his hand.

“I need to know,” she said, her chest heaving with her breaths, “Is this only because you’re drunk? Is this- is this a one time thing?”

Something like hurt flashed in his eyes. “Do you truly think so little of me?”

“I think so little of your decision making when you’re drunk,” she leaned back, as if she was trying to move back to her spot, but Lorcan had been waiting for this opportunity since he’d met the dark haired beauty. She was much younger than the rest of his friends, but so mature beyond her years. His heart strained for her as she said, “I don’t want to be a drunk mistake, Lorcan.”

He took her face in both of his hands. “You could never be that. When I’m sober, I’m going to be right back in this spot, asking for this. If you want to wait until then…” he paused, trying to relax his body. “I will wait. I will wait until I’m sober, I will wait as long as you ask me to….but you are not and could never be a mistake.”

“I have wanted you for as long as I can remember,” she whispered. The wine was making her head spin and she was fairly sure that she wouldn’t have been saying this otherwise. His proximity and his hands on her back, her thighs, her ass, her body was clouding her thoughts even more thoroughly. “I don’t think I could handle the rejection if you changed your mind.”

He shook his head, brushing her hair back behind her ears. “I love you.”

The air left her lungs with a whoosh and she stared at him unable to process what he’d just told her. He laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“This is when I was hoping you’d say it back, but I understand if you-.”

She told him.

She told him through her kiss, her mouth hungrily finding his.

Lorcan was an ass, and he was cocky, and often pretended to be nothing more than an inconsiderate brute.

And he loved her.

And she loved him. She loved him so much she felt like her heart was going to burst.

When he laid her back on the couch and kissed down her neck, he paused and said, “I know that you’ve never…” He let his words trail off. “I need you to know I’m not asking for that, Elide. I’m asking for you. I’m asking to be deserving of your love.”

“I know,” she said, smiling, palm resting against his stubbled cheek. “I want to.”

He kissed her softly, slowly. He kissed her in such a way that she began to burn from the inside out and she squirmed beneath him. But he pulled back and ran a thumb across her cheekbone.

“I do, too,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her lips. “But not tonight, and not when some of us have been drinking.” He smirked and Elide scoffed, smacking his chest.

“I loathe you,” she mumbled.

He raised a dark brow. “Loathe me always, then, because I love the way you show it.”

Her smile softened as he kissed her forehead, then her nose, her lips, her chin.

“Will you say it?” He asked, voice soft as a whisper.

Elide brought her hand up and rested it against his cheek. “I love you, Lorcan Salvaterre.”

He brought his lips back to hers. “I love you too, Elide Lochan.”

She smiled. “What brought this on? I mean, not that I’m complaining, this just…came out of nowhere.” She laughed, but it was clear she was not making fun of him. She was curious.

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he breathed, then smiled. “The liquid courage helped.”

Elide laughed, softly, beautifully.

The sound of Elide’s phone ringing from her bedroom caused them to jump apart. She ran up the stairs and grabbed her phone before looking at the caller ID. She answered and turned, making her way back downstairs. “Hello?”

“Eliiiiiide!” Aelin’s voice filled the receiver as she sat down next to Lorcan on the couch and as he put his arm around her, she saw him cringe slightly. “What are you doing?”

She looked at him and he shook his head, as if to say Don’t you dare.

“Just at home, watching a movie,” she replied coolly, glancing at the tv on the wall.

“Oh good!” She said, and the tone of her voice had Elide sitting up straighter. “We’re right down the road, we’ll be right there!”

Lorcan groaned before he could stop himself. Aelin was not his biggest fan, but she sure loved Elide. Lorcan imagined that Aelin would not approve of what was happening between the two of them.

Elide lowered the phone and looked at him. Her bottom lip was pulled between her teeth and before she could stop it, laughter had torn out of her. He rolled his eyes, but tightened his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “This should be fun.”

“Have you changed your definition of fun in the last two minutes?” Elide chuckled.

“Whitethorn is shit faced, Fenrys was barely able to string a sentence together when I left, and Bitch Queen is about to try to chew my ass for being here, alone with you.” He shook his head. “This is about to be a shit show.”

She leaned across his lap and kissed him, softly. “Does this mean you’re leaving?”

He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Elide smiled. “Good.”

The doorbell rang and Elide went to stand, but Lorcan pulled her down and crashed his lips against hers. “Let me get it,” he breathed as he pulled away, smirking.

Lorcan stood and made his way down the hall to the door and Elide waited and listened.

It was when she heard the door opened and the conversation outside stopped that she knew it would a night to remember.

It was when Aelin exclaimed, “What in the rutting hell are you doing here?” at the same time Rowan said “Gods above, Lorcan,” that she knew it would be a night to never forget.

#shelby and tara writes #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #elorcan #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #prompt #tara answers prompts #lorcan #elide #tog #throne of glass

[snelbz]

Puppy Love {Elorcan Angst/Smut}

A/N: Collab with @tacmc. Let’s be honest. This is pure smut with a thinly veiled plot. And we have no shame.

WC: 5,161

Lorcan’s fist slammed against the door again, the reverberations shooting up his arm and causing the pictures on the wall to rattle.

“Open the fucking door, Elide!”

There was no response from inside.

The silence only made it worse, only made him angrier, only made him panicked.

“Elide,” he said, voice low, trying a calmer approach, but it only made his hands shake at his sides.

He waited.

Took a deep breath.

Two.

Nothing.

He slammed on the door, continuously, wanting to break it down, but using his fist as cordially as he could muster, instead.

“Elide, I’m sorry, okay? I’m so fucking sorry.”

The words had flowed from his mouth before he could stop them, constantly said by his friends on the team, but as a joke.

The lack of reply told him everything he needed to know.

He heard the key in the front door behind him, but it was already unlocked, and the door opened freely.

Manon and Asterin Blackbeak entered the apartment, the cousins’ eyes narrowing as they saw him standing outside Elide’s bedroom door.

“What are you doing here, Lorcan?”

“Fuck off,” he muttered, knocking on Elides bedroom, once again.

“Go home,” Manon snapped, walking up beside him and pushing him out of the way. “El? It’s Manon. We brought you food.”

They waited for a moment, but still nothing came. Manon slowly turned to Lorcan, golden eyes narrowed. Asterin had taken a seat on the couch, clearly ready to watch the show.

“Why are you still here?” Manon asked, voice low, the to go box with Elide’s breako clutched in her hands. “I told you to go home.”

“I’m here for Eli-.”

“I know why you’re here, but this is my apartment, too, and I’m telling you to go home,” she said, voice rising with every word.

Before Lorcan could reply, which was probably for the best, the door creaked open slightly.

Manon surged forward, entering before Lorcan, but he looked in. And what he saw made his chest crack in two.

Elide’s eyes were red and puffy. She glanced up at him, and he could see the pain his words had caused.

He hadn’t known she was there, she’d told him she wasn’t coming to the party because she would be studying for their bio chem exam. The game of Never Have I Ever started out innocently enough, teammates asking about stupid pranks and injuries. And then one of them had to bring up Elide.

“Be honest, Salvaterre. You’ve hit that, right?”

Gods, only in his wildest dreams. But he couldn’t tell them that. He had a reputation to uphold.

“Of course not, have you seen her?” He’d taken a drink from his beer, draining the cup, and although his friends’ eyes had gone wide, he’d assumed it was just due to the bluntness of his words. He continued. “She’s cute, but she’s too cute. It’d be like fucking a puppy.”

He stood, heading for the keg for a refill.

And she’d been standing there, in the doorway, tears already streaming down her beautiful face.

Lorcan froze, unsure of what to do next. He wanted to run to her, but that hesitation cost him. She shook her head and ran herself, fleeing the party and getting far as hell away from him.

Now, the next morning, sober enough to get to her, Lorcan was in her apartment, heart breaking at the damage he’d caused.

“Elide,” he said, breathing her name, his eyes widening at her distress, but she just shook her head and went to close the door.

But he stopped it with his hand and took a step toward her.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He whispered. “Please, just, give me a minute to explain.”

“If you enjoy having those fingers,” Manon crooned, the words a promise rather than a threat, “you’ll let go of the door before I shut them in it.”

He bared his teeth. “I don’t recall you being a part of this, Blackbeak.”

Her golden eyes were damn near glowing with anger. “You made me a part of this when you made her cry.”

The door slammed shut, and if Lorcan hadn’t jerked his hand back at the last second, Manon’s promise would have been fulfilled.

“Why don’t you run back home to your dogs?” Asterin asked from behind him.

His shoulders slumped as he ran his hands frustratingly through his dark, tangled hair. He slowly turned to face her, all the anger having faded. Now, he was just tired. Now, he just felt like shit. Now, he had lost his best friend, the woman he was in love with, and wasn’t going anywhere until she spoke to him.

“I’m not leaving until I talk to her,” he said, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard through the door, but keeping his calm.

“You’re not welcome here,” she said, her voice sharp. “And your name isn’t on the lease. So I suggest you get out before we call-.”

Elide’s bedroom door opened and Manon stepped out. If looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. “If I hear so much as one sob from her, if I hear her crying at all, I will come in there and I will personally rip your balls off one by one and feed them to you.”

Lorcan’s eyebrow rose and rather than be concerned for his own safety, he was wondering what kind of kinky shit Dorian Havilliard was into if these were the kind of threats his fiancée made.

Elide stood in her doorway, clearly waiting for him to enter, but she wouldn’t look at him. She wouldn’t look up from the fuzzy Christmas socks she wore, regardless of the fact that it was barely October.

He entered the room and Elide shut the door and locked it. She said nothing, leaning against her desk and crossing her arms over her chest.

Lorcan wasn’t sure to begin. There were a million things he wanted to say, a million things he should say, but none of them were coming out. Instead, a horrendous amount of stuttering was taking place when he opened his lips to attempt an apology. “Elide... I... Look... just- th-I...” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He had never been good at apologizing - he’d had very little practice. It definitely wasn’t something he was known for.

When he opened his eyes, once again, Elide was watching him, but he quickly broke her gaze. He’d been in her room countless times, but this time felt different. Not only because he was an asshole and couldn’t make it right, but because he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and lay her down, apologize with his actions instead of his words, but that was a pointless ideology to have.

“El,” he began, again, speaking slower so that his words didn’t get jumbled. “I fucked up and I’m sorry, oka-.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper. The pain in her eyes was unbearable, but Lorcan deserved to look at the pain he’d caused, even if it felt like a punch in his gut. “Why would you say that about me?”

He sighed, dragging his hand through his hair again. “Because I was trying to save face. Because I was trying to uphold my tough guy reputation. And-.”

“And you could never do that with me, because it’d be too cute?” Her voice was like ice, he’d never heard her so cold.

“That came out wrong, it’s not-.”

She laughed and it sounded so much like Galathynius that he cringed slightly. “How does it’d be like fucking a puppy come out right, Lorcan?” He was ashamed because she was absolutely right. “Just admit you got caught being an asshole and-.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do’,” he said, his voice raising of its own accord. “That’s exactly what you caught me doing! And I’m trying to apologize. What I said was fucked up.”

“It’s not even that it was fucked up, Lorcan.” She shook her head and chewed on her lip. “It’s that you said it. My best friend, my Lorcan, would never say that about me.”

She was right. Lorcan ran a hand down his face and stared at his feet. She was right. She deserved better than that. She deserved someone who would never say such a thing, whether he came to regret it or not. His apologies meant nothing, because she deserved people in her life who didn’t have to apologize.

“You’re right,” he breathed, refusing to meet her gaze. “You’re right, and I can apologize all I want to, but it won’t really make a difference, will it?” He looked up at her then, and those tears continued to stream silently down her face. “I went home after you left last night and I laid in bed and I couldn’t fucking sleep and all I could think about was the look on your face when I turned around and saw you there. I hurt you, Elide, and I usually don’t feel bad about the shit that I do, but when I saw the look on your face…” His words trailed off, and he shook his head. “I realized that when I leave this place in a year, everything I’ve done to uphold the reputation of what this fucked up school expects me to be will mean nothing. When I’m gone from here, I may be known as a good football player, sure, but what’s the point of that? I realized, last night, after being a complete dick, was that I don’t care about any of that. When I’m gone from here, Elide, the only thing that I want to take with me is you. Not my reputation or my legacy or whatever the fuck else. Just you.”

She was shaking her head, the tears coming faster and faster. “We’ve been friends for years, Lorcan. You’ve been my best friend since I was fifteen and I have never imagined you talked about me like that when I wasn’t there. Is that how Rowan talks about Aelin?” Lorcan opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “Of course he isn’t. Because he doesn’t give a shit what people think about him. He loves her and he wants every person he meets to know it. And with how we’ve been recently, I thought maybe you-.” Her voice broke and she shook her head. “Nevermind.”

He knew what she was about to say. For the past few weeks, it hadn’t been their entire group of friends hanging out. It had just been them.

It started out studying for a quiz, but then they decided to grab lunch. She asked if he wanted to meet for coffee. He asked if she needed a ride to class. There had been more accidental touches, less awkward silences. Things between them had finally felt...right.

And now he’d gone and fucked it up.

“Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he breathed.

But she was shaking her head as she took a slow, shaky breath. “Just lea-.”

“No,” he interrupted. It was the one thing he wouldn’t do. “Don’t tell me to leave, Elide, I’m not going anywhere until I make this right, I have to make this right, let me make this right.”

“There is nothing to make up for, Lor,” she said, quietly, her voice small. “Just….please, leave.”

He didn’t.

He stayed put, exactly where he was and said, “I love you. I’ve loved you for years, but I never knew how to tell you.”

She was shaking her head. “You’re just saying that to try and-.”

“If you think I’d use your feelings for me like that, you don’t know me.”

“I feel like I don’t!” She said, tears falling again, though they’d never really stopped. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear you tell me that you love me? And now you say it and I can’t even tell if you mean it.”

Lorcan ran his hands down his face and let out a deep, frustrated growl. “Damn it, Elide! You know me! You’ve known me for years! How many times have I ever told anyone that I’ve loved them?” He took a step closer to her, hesitantly, but to his satisfaction and relief, she didn’t back away. “I am so in love with you. I’m an idiot, and an asshole, and you deserve a hell of a lot better than me, El, but I fucking love you, am so undeniably in love with you.”

She didn’t move, didn't blink, hardly breathed.

“I love you,” he repeated, quietly.

She was quiet for a long while, and Lorcan could see the internal battle going on in those dark eyes. But when she finally spoke, the words she whispered were the last thing he expected.

“Prove it.”

He didn’t give himself time to think, didn’t stop to consider whether there was another way to show her how much he cared. He closed the last couple of steps between them and pressed his lips to hers, not as gentle as he’d imagined their first kiss would be, but he didn’t care. He just needed to show her how much he cared.

And if he couldn’t do that with his words, he’d do that with his actions.

She gasped at the contact, her body going rigid at first, but it soon relaxed. His tongue slipped inside of her mouth, between her lips, brushing alongside her own, as her hands wrapped around his neck. He pulled her closer to him, his arms snaking around her waist, his mouth crushing against hers with such desperation that he had to remind himself to breathe.

He kissed her again and again, slowly, passionately, his teeth clashing against hers. He should probably calm down, probably be more gentle, take it slower, but he couldn’t convince himself to.

He had wanted to kiss her for far too long.

He pulled away, his forehead pressed against hers and breathed, “Do you believe me now?”

She didn’t say a word, couldn’t remember her own name. The only thing she could do was lean up on her toes and crash her lips against hers again.

Lorcan practically growled as he knitted his hand into her hair and their words were no longer needed.

His back was straining from where he was having to lean down to kiss her, so his hands made a slow, deliberated path down her body, until he was cupping her ass. He lifted her and she gasped, legs wrapping around his waist.

Elide’s back pressed up against the door as he kissed her and her hands dove into his hair. His lips left hers and instead trailed kisses down her neck, to the hollow of her throat and then to spot where her neck met her shoulder and he sucked. The quiet moan that fell from her lips had his teeth biting down on the soft skin, his tongue soothing the ache a moment later.

There was a banging next to her head. “Are you fucking kidding me, El?”

Lorcan’s head snapped up, meeting Elide’s bright, humored eyes and her pale, flushed cheeks.

“Fuck off,” Lorcan called back, but his tone was light as he met Elide’s lips with his own.

If they were bothered by the sweet little moans coming out of her mouth now, Lorcan couldn’t wait for their reaction when she was screaming his name.

Elide was smiling into his mouth as she pulled on his shirt, a silent question with no hesitation. Lorcan leaned back, pressing her up against the wall with his hips as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

Elide had seen him shirtless before, at the beach and pool parties and while he practiced football, but she had never reached out and traced the tattoo across his chest as she was doing now. Lorcan’s eyes closed, enthralled by her featherlike touch against his skin.

They heard someone call, “Traitor!” before a bedroom door closed down the hall.

When he opened his eyes, he found her staring at him, bottom lip caught between her teeth. He reached out, skimming his thumb over the flush high on her cheekbone and then down to that sinful lip. He worked it out from her teeth and whispered, “What do you want, Elide?”

He had imagined this for so long, spent some many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, pretending it was hers. But he wouldn’t pressure her into anything, wanted her to make that decision on her own. Because, gods, he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to make her moan loud enough for the witches down the hall to hear. But he’d wait if she wasn’t ready.

“You,” she breathed. “All of you. Now.”

The slight whimper in her tone, laced into those words, had him instantly hard. He carried her to the foot of her bed and gently laid her down before climbing on top of her, his lips finding hers once more.

“Are you sure?” He asked, terrified to ask it, but felt he had to. And yet, he didn’t break contact with her lips.

“Yes,” she begged, and that was all the permission he needed.

His hips fell into hers and she gasped from the feel of him as his hand snaked up her stomach, to her breast, underneath her old tee.

She wasn’t wearing a bra so there was nothing to stop him from palming her breast and gently tweaking a nipple. The gasp that left her had him grinding his hips into hers and pulling back to look down at her.

His hand left her chest to grab the hem of her shirt - his high school football shirt, he realized with a purr of male satisfaction - and lifted it, revealing those magnificent breasts he’d always tried so hard not to stare at whenever they were even minutely displayed. But now he could stare all he wanted, he could drink in his fill of the expanse of tan skin in front of him. Of the dark pink nipples, peaked in the air, just begging for his teeth to tug on them.

He observed her, worshipped her with his eyes as they grazed over her breasts, her abdomen, down to the leggings that began at her waist. His hand slid beneath her ass as his lips trailed down her neck, between her breasts, over that peaked nipple where his lips wrapped around and he sucked, lightly.

Her slim fingers tangled into his messy hair as her breathing quickened. Lorcan’s teeth tugged her nipple, ever so slightly, as he pushed down the waistband of her leggings.

Elide lifted her ass to help, her little sign of permission.

Lorcan gripped the fabric and ripped them off, tossing them to the side and letting his fingers play up and down the insides of her thighs. With every pass, he moved closer and closer to the apex of her thighs, and she writhed more and more as he teased her. She whimpered and he pulled back to look at her, a smirk on his lips.

She sat up, pulling her shirt over her head and hooking her thumbs in the lace boy shorts she was wearing. She scooted to the head of the bed, her back hitting her pillows, and she opened her legs for him.

She was completely bare and Lorcan thought he might actually combust. His cock was so hard, he was in physical pain.

For a second, he remained still, his breathing heavy as his eyes trailed down her body, and back up again. Then he unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off. He was perfectly aware where her wide eyes lingered as his boxer shorts quickly followed. He went to climb back up her body, but she put a steady hand against his chest and subtly shook her head.

Lorcan froze, but she only whispered, “Sit.”

He obeyed without protest, sitting, leaning back against the pillows up against her headboard.

Then Elide was crawling on his lap, straddling his waist, his cock standing tall, teasing between her thighs.

She reached down, gripping him in her hand and he hissed at the contact. Stroking him twice, she rubbed the tip between her folds, the slick heat making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

She pressed his length flat against his stomach, grinding her hips along him. He groaned, gripping them and helping her move.

He licked one of his thumbs and pressed it to her clit, rubbing a slow circle in time with her hips. She whimpered again and he looked up at her. There was a look in her eyes that had him pausing. “What is it, baby?”

She shook her head and laughed. “Nothing, it’s just I-.” She chuckled again, moving her hips deliberately slowly. “That is not going to fit inside of me.”

A dark laugh left him and the sound itself gave her chills. He reached up, pulling her lips down to meet his and breathed, “Don’t worry, baby, it will. It will and I’m going to make you feel so good.”

She laughed, breathlessly, tugging on his bottom lip with her teeth. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

The grin he gave her as she leaned back sent chills down her spine, as her hips paused. She reached down beneath her and grabbed his cock, with gentle hands, and ran a thumb over the tip before lining him up with her opening.

Lorcan’s grin faded as his head fell back against the pillows and he took her hips into his hands. She stayed like that for a moment, and it nearly drove him insane but then she slowly pushed herself down on him, just a little bit, just a tease.

The only reason Lorcan didn’t slam her down, taking her as deeply as he could, was because she was right. Lorcan’s member was larger than most and Elide’s small stature meant she was going to have to get used to his size.

So instead, he began to rock her again, pushing her hips down little by little, until most of his length was inside of her. She was gasping and he was damn near holding his breath.

She was tight. She was so fucking tight.

“Wait, wait, wait,” she breathed, her hands pressed to his chest, “Just a minute.”

Lorcan nodded, reaching up and brushing his thumb over her nipple. He’d wait. He’d go slow. He’d do whatever she asked of him, just as long as he was inside of her.

But then she started to roll her hips on top of him, her eyes fluttering shut, her head tilting back. Her hands remained on his chest as she did so, and Lorcan couldn’t help but watch, his breathing ragged as her slim hips moved in a slow, steady circle. He cursed under his breath as she continued, moving herself up and down on top of him. She went slow, was hesitant, cautious, but persistent. And when she started to become more comfortable, she only quickened her pace, her tits bouncing in front of his face.

He swore, his voice low, his hands gripping her hips as she moved, as she rode him slowly, but relentlessly. The quicker she moved, the deeper that crease between her brows became, the more her nails dug into his skin, into his shoulders.

He did his best to let her lead, to let her control the pace, but when his name fell from her lips, the breathy moan bouncing off the walls, his control broke.

He held her in place above him and lifted his hips, snapping them into her, making her cry out. She fell on top of him and his mouth latched to her breast, while his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her in place. The noises she made were music to his ears and he reached down and grabbed her ass, kneading the curve in his hand.

There was a sharp smack and Elide cried out, clamping down on Lorcan’s cock.

She sat up, her hands on his chest again. An eyebrow raised, she asked, “Did you just smack my ass?”

Lorcan squeezed where his hand had just made contact, smirking. “Depends. Did you like it?”

A grin broke out across her lips as she said, “Try it again and I’ll let you know.”

He did as she asked, and pushed herself down on him until she was full of him and Lorcan was watching her with dark, humored eyes.

“I never knew you were so naughty,” he whispered.

She leaned down to nip at his bottom lip. “You have a lot to learn about me, Lorcan Salvaterre.”

All of his control escaped him.

Lorcan flipped her over, his lips instantly connecting with her neck. He sucked the tender skin, his tongue moving in circles as her moans continued to fill the air.

He was certain Manon was furious.

The walls were thin.

And Lorcan didn’t give a fuck.

Her legs wrapped around his body as he thrust his hips into hers, just once, with as much force as he could conjure. She gasped, gripping his back, and muttered a curse.

Lorcan pulled her hands from him and pinned them above her head with one of his. Lorcan pulled back, almost all the way out, and their eyes connected. Again, Lorcan snapped his hips into her and Elide was unable to stop the scream that fell from her lips. “Fuck, Lorcan, please!”

Again, and again, and again, he thrust into her slowly, deliberately. Every time, Elide cried out and Lorcan pressed his thumb into her clit.

Elide cried out, but Lorcan thrived on the sounds tumbling from her lips, the sounds she was unable to stop. He picked up to a steady pace, his skin growing damp with sweat as he made love to her, fucked her as he had in his mind so many times. It was finally a reality. It was happening, and Lorcan was desperate to make it one to remember.

He loved this woman.

And gods it felt good being inside of her.

A loud bang came from the door. “We’re leaving you, nymphomaniacs. We’ll be back later.”

At that moment, Lorcan’s cock hit that illustrious spot inside her and Elide cried out, her legs shaking and Lorcan groaned as she became unbearably tight.

“Fuck you, too,” Manon yelled, and the outside door fell shut.

Lorcan wasted no time in taking advantage of their solitude, picking her up and putting her back against the door once more. The door shook with every thrust of his hips, his hands on both side of her head, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

He didn’t hold back, was tired of holding back, as he pushed into her, over and over again, relentlessly, faster and harder. The more she cried out, the more those little sounds escaped her, the faster he went, the more he lost control.

Manon was gone.

Asterin was gone.

He and Elide were alone in her apartment, and he would not take that lightly.

His hips connected with hers so forcefully, his cock slamming into her vigorously, that those little sounds flowing from her mouth became mute. Her face was distorted in pleasure, her breathing becoming heavier.

Lorcan was on the verge of losing himself completely.

One of her hands was in his hair, tugging on the long strands and spurning on his merciless pace. The other clutched at her breast, pinching and tugging on her nipple, kneading the soft flesh.

One of his own covered the other and he growled, “Have I ever told you how much I love your tits?”

She let her hand skim down her body and she touched herself, gasping at all of the sensations coming together. “No,” she groaned. “But I’ve always caught you staring.”

“Oh, really?” He brought his thrusts to a torturously slow pace, but they were no less brutal.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it,” she said, giggling softly, only cut off by her gasps, her moans, every time he slammed into her.

Lorcan decided he would never grow tired of it, those sounds.

It only pushed him further. His teeth found her shoulder and he bit into her flesh as he pounded into her, without boundaries. He became one with her as she clung to him, unaware of the rest of the world, unaware of anything but she and him.

Then he was close.

So fucking close.

But he begged himself to hold on, a little while longer, if only so he could listen to the sounds falling from her lips. That could only last for so long though.

“I’m gonna cum,” he said, breath hissing through his teeth.

“Me too,” she said, voice no louder than a whisper. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back and her breathing was shallow. Lorcan watched, watched as her chest began to heave, breasts bouncing. She continued to play with herself, one of the hottest fucking things he’d ever seen, and after a minute, he felt her getting tighter and tighter.

She moaned his name one last time before she fell over the edge, crying out.

He felt her come around him, felt her juices flood out over him, and the sensation had him approaching a climax of his own. He cursed, deeply, brutally, fully captivated by the beauty before him, as he pulled out and came on top of the soft, ivory skin of her abdomen. His head fell back, his eyes closed, and he groaned as he rode it out.

For a moment, he said nothing. He only pressed his lips upon her shoulders, her neck, her lips, as his climax came and faded away.

Elide was the first one to speak, breaking the silence and saying, “With how all of thia started, thanks for not fucking me doggy style.”

Lorcan laughed, the sound full and bright, and kissed her before laying her on the bed. He grabbed a towel from her attached bathroom and cleaned her up before laying next to her and gathering her in his arms.

He was almost asleep when she murmured, “Only eight-forty-five in the morning and I’ve already had three orgasms.” His eyes snapped open and he looked down at her.

“Three?” He asked. He could only think of two times she’d cum: once, right when he’d gotten on top, and then at the end.

She smirked and said, “What can I say? I couldn’t sleep last night.”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut without saying a word. She laughed at his speechlessness, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You have no idea the way I feel about you, the way I think about you.”

Lorcan chuckled, pulling her closer to him beneath the blankets. “Trust me, I have a pretty good idea.”

#throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #elorcan smut #elorcan #lorcan salvaterre #elide lochan #throne of glass

[snelbz]

The Ranch {2}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: This story has been in the works for so long and we have poured hours and hours into it. There have been weekends where we did nothing but write (and drink wine) all day long, because this story just flowed out of us (and, of course, the wine flowed in). We say it all the time, but writing together is our favorite thing to do. This is our first full length fic together and I can’t believe we’re finally sharing it with y’all. As always, let us know what you think and a reminder that Tara and I will be going back and forth posting chapters, so look for chapter 3 on her blog soon!

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian had been up for hours, but felt as if he’d blinked and it was nine in the morning. He’d woken up at four and while he was making coffee, he looked out the window and watched a young calf grazing in the field. He took a sip of his coffee, and headed towards the fridge to start cooking breakfast and-.

His coffee was forgotten on the counter and his boots and shirt were on in seconds.

If there were cattle up this far onto the property, it could only mean two things. The fence was down somewhere (or worse - cut again) and it had been all night.

He saddled Lyria and rode for what felt like miles before he found the section of fencing that had been, once again, cut clean through.

He cursed as he dismounted, carefully investigating the area. The box powering the fence had been shut down and all three of the conductive wires shredded through. Cassian sighed as he walked through the opening and looked down into the field where the cattle grazed.

There were six cows of varying sizes below.

“Damn it,” he breathed and headed back toward his cabin.

First things first, he had to fix the fence. It would do him no good to catch the missing herd, just for them to get loose again. Then he’d bring Beau down with him to herd them back into their pasture.

After repairing the fence and locating the herd, he found himself by the main house. And once again, that little red sports car was parked in front of her.

With a sigh, Cassian opened the back door and went inside. She was, once again, in the kitchen, but this time she was cleaning. The lemony scent of all-purpose cleaner hit Cassian as he shut the door behind him, more loudly than he should have. 

She peeked over her shoulder, observing him. “Nice to see you fully dressed yourself before gracing me today.”

Cassian chuckled. “Disappointed?”

She just shook her head, going back to cleaning the countertops. “Not at all.”

“Pity,” Cassian mumbled, pulling out a chair from the kitchen table and taking a seat, watching her every move. “Shirt can come off, again, just say the word.” 

“When you speak,” Nesta began, opening one of the top drawers and emptying its unnecessary contents into the garbage, “do you find yourself as annoying as I do?”

Cassian just grinned. “Look, I’ll leave you alone in a minute. Just thought you’d like to be updated on what’s been happening this morning. Also, do you drive from here to the house you’re staying in every time? Because...it’s really not that far. It’s perfectly walkable. Or, are you just afraid of getting your shoes dirty?”

Nesta stopped what she was doing and turned to face him, leaning back against the counter. “First of all, you’re an asshole, but I’m sure that’s not news to you. Secondly, did something happen this morning?”

Cassian watched her for a moment as he tied his hair back. “Some fencing had been cut along the far east pasture line.”

Nesta blinked. “Okay…”

“You don’t know what that means, do you?” he asked, humored. “You lived here for eighteen years before you left, did you not?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I assume you’re going to tell me, considering you like to hear yourself talk so much.”

“It means, sweetheart, that someone purposefully came onto our land and cut our electric fence, in hopes something would happen to those animals.”

Nesta asked, “You fixed it though?”

“Yes, but I-.”

“Great. Here’s the thing, Cassian,” she turned and continued cleaning. “As you’ve so kindly pointed out, I don’t know the first thing about ranch work. I also don’t care to. So as long as you keep the ranch running smoothly, I don’t need to know everything that goes on.”

Cassian was staring, but unlike yesterday, it wasn’t at the way her ass filled out the jean shorts she wore. It was in shock. “You don’t want to know what’s going on with the ranch?”

“Secondly,” she continued, not acknowledging he’d even spoken, “in regards to our land, I decided to take a look at the property boundaries. I’d like to add another building.”

“Another building? Nesta, there’s barely enough land for the cattle as it is.”

Ignoring him again, she pressed on. “While I was looking for them, the deeds for all three houses fell into my lap. You said you knew my father for a long time, right, Cassian? So surely you’d know how bad his procrastination was.”

His heart dropped into his stomach.

No, there was no way she was about to say what he thought she was.

“Why don’t you check that envelope on the table?”

Cassian reached for it with trembling fingers. When he opened it, he saw that it was the deed to his house, yes, but the bottom line, the line where the original owner’s name belonged…

It was blank.

“Looks like he never got around to going and getting it notarized,” Nesta said, pulling another drawer open. She found silverware inside, her mother’s priceless silver set from their wedding. It was tarnished and bent. She pulled it out and set it to the side, to clean it later on.

Cassian slowly folded up the letter and tossed it onto the table. “So, what? You’re going to kick me out of my house?”

“It’s my house,” Nesta clarified.

Cassian pushed back his chair with such force that Nesta almost flinched. “Let me see his will.”

Nesta turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d opened the envelope. “What?”

“I want to know exactly what he left to you. Shit, I’ll call his fucking lawyer. I’ve lived in that house for eight years, Nesta, taking care of this land like it's my land. You get rid of me, this whole operation goes to shit.” He was fuming, barely able to think clearly. His hands were shaking as he shoved them into his pockets. 

She, however, was the epitome of calm. “I didn’t say I was getting rid of you.”

Cassian’s jaw clenched. 

“I expect you, if you want, of course, to continue working here. Elain says you’re great at what you do and I trust her judgement. But, I do expect you to respect me as your boss, just like you did my father. You will do as I say, and no more meaningless flirtations.”

Cassian scoffed, loudly and humorlessly. “You think a little too highly of yourself, Sweetheart.”

“I will sign the log cabin to you and allow you to continue your and my father’s agreement if you agree to my terms,” she continued, as if manipulating him pleased her. “I want another building on the property, and I want you to build it.”

Cassian blinked, his anger turning back into shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She fished around in a box before pulling out a small polishing rag. She went to work on the silverware. “You said you would do anything that needs to be done.”

“I’m a rancher, Nesta. And a handyman, at best,” he gestured around the kitchen. “I fixed your air conditioning, and I can do other things like that, but I can’t build an entire damn house.”

“Stable,” was all Nesta said.

“Excuse you?”

“A stable. I want a stable closer to the house.”

Cassian was stunned. “You...want a new stable?”

“Yes, the barn and stables down by the round pen are falling apart. I don’t think the horses are safe in there.”

“And you care because..?” He didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but everything he’d learn in the past eight years completely contradicted what she was telling him.

“Just because I didn’t care to learn how to ranch doesn’t mean I don’t love my horses.”

He blinked at her and he hesitated, but spoke. “I can...try. But like I said, I’ve never built anything like that before.”

She set the polishing cloth down and the one fork she’d been meticulously polishing during their entire conversation. “That’s fine. I’ve- I’ve never run a B&B before but here we are.”

“Have you been down to the old stables?” He asked, not accusingly, but curious. “Do you even know how many horses we have?”

“We had nine when I left,” she said, looking out the window. “And they were all fairly young. Theoretically, they could all still be alive. How many?”

“Eight. Sold one, lost one, and had one just appear out of nowhere.” He couldn’t read her tone. Couldn’t tell why she was asking.

“Who was sold?”

Cassian tread carefully, watching her. He stood and got a coffee mug from the cabinet, pouring a cup from the steaming pot on the counter. He took a drink and leaned back against the cabinet. “About three years ago, a girl and her parents stayed the night on the way to a rodeo in Cheyenne. She was a barrel racer and her horse was getting too old. She saw Hue out in the pasture and asked if she could ride her. They paid us cash before they left and Hue is a world champion barrel horse now.”

Nesta nodded, remembering exactly what she’d looked like, why Feyre had given her the name. Nesta had never been a fan of Paint horses, but it was no question that Feyre fell in love. “And the one who died?”

Cassian hesitated again and this time Nesta looked up. His hazel eyes were sad. “He was a great horse, Nes.”

Nesta looked away and tried to blink the tears away.

Phoenix.

“What happened?” she asked, nudging the fork with her finger.

“He just started to colic one day, we’re not exactly sure.” He crossed one booted foot in front of the other. “A day or two after the colic started, we had the doc come out and he said he was completely blocked. If we didn’t get him moving and get that block to pass, we were gonna lose him.” Cassian bumped his heel against the toe of his boot. His spurs jangled as he did. “He never got back to his feet. I’m sorry, Nesta.”

She sniffled and nodded, but refused to look up at him. “You should, uh, go do whatever it is you do now. I’ll talk to you in a bit. I’ll have lunch ready at 1:00, if you’re hungry.” She began to head towards the doorway leading to the living room.

He reached for her wrist. “Nesta, it’s-.”

“Leave,” she said, snatching her arm back. It was firm, but it wasn’t unkind, showing Cassian just how broken up over the news she was. Even more so when she added, “Please.”

She kept walking and was out of his sight as soon as she turned the corner into the living room.

He sighed, rubbing his hands down his face.

Today was nothing like he planned.

____________________________

Nesta spent her day working. After Cassian brought his unpleasant news, and she’d asked him to leave her alone, she didn’t see him. He made himself scarce for the remainder of the afternoon, and she no longer cared what he spent it doing, knowing full well he would make himself useful around the ranch.

Elain was right, he was a great rancher. 

It was why she was allowing him to keep his house on the land. He was right. If he were to leave, the entire ranch would go to complete shit. 

Phoenix lingered in the back of her mind all day, no matter how much she tried not to think about him. 

She finished polishing her mother’s fine silverware, pissed the entire time that her father had treated them like meaningless pieces of plastic. After that, she finished cleaning out the kitchen and was busy in the living room when Elain texted her.

Still on for tonight? We were thinking we could go to the old corner bar.

Nesta sighed. She wanted so desperately to say no, but Elain had missed her, and she had missed Elain. Besides, she’d given Nesta an entire house full of free furniture.

I’ll be there. What time?

8?

Ok. 

Nesta looked at the time. It was just after six. She could certainly use a shower. She hadn’t taken one since she’d arrived the morning before. Her water wasn’t turned on in her little house, but she was too stubborn to ask Cassian where the main was.

Especially after what had happened that morning.

She was tempted to text Elain and ask if she had invited him to dinner, but didn’t want it to seem like she cared.

Because she didn’t. 

Not one bit.

So instead, she bundled everything she would need to get ready into her suitcase and tossed it in her backseat, slamming the door a little harder than she probably needed to.

She mumbled something about ‘not wanting to get her shoes dirty’ as she climbed into the driver seat and started the car, heading up to the main house. She headed into the house and started up the stairs, heading for her old bathroom on the second floor. But she paused and smirked, turning and heading back down the hall, towards the master suite, which took up the bulk of the second floor.

As she walked through the house, she swore she heard the floor creaking upstairs, but knew how much noise this house made while she was growing up. She could only imagine how much it would creak in the middle of the night now.

As she took a quick shower, she pondered the idea of turning the B&B into a haunted mansion type of deal, because there was no way anyone was going to be able to sleep here if the house made as much noise at night as it did during the day. Ultimately, she knew she’d have to get someone out to check the foundation of the house and probably redo the floors at some point.

As she turned the water off and pondered all that she would have to do to fix this place up, she was thankful for her notoriety and success in the world of all things culinary. When she’d gotten the call about her father’s death, she’d been in Paris, talking to young culinary students how to properly chop for the different methods of cutting. His funeral had been planned so quickly that there was no time for her to even request to go. A few weeks later, when she’d received a call from his lawyer, telling her that he’d left her his dream, his baby, there was no question of what she needed to do.

Her three restaurants in Rome, New York, and Paris were all on the market in less than three days. Forty-five minutes later, she sold them to a single buyer for eighteen million dollars.

She’d sold her brand, her craft, everything.

She was thankful, because now she had the funds to do what she needed to save this place.

Stepping out of the shower, Nesta wrapped a towel around her wet body. She ran one through her dripping hair and combed through it. She yawned and checked her phone, finding it wasn’t even seven yet. If Nesta had any hope of staying awake after her long day of cleaning, she’d need to start drinking copious amounts of caffeine now.

She decided coffee didn’t sound half bad and decided to make a pot while she got ready.

Passing by the front door, she locked it, just in case somebody decided he wanted to visit again. She continued into the kitchen and put a pot on to brew.

There was something peaceful about a pot of coffee brewing. Nesta loved the little noises the machine made as it made her a pot of delicious energy filled goodness. 

As it did its job, Nesta turned to head back down the hall and up the stairs to the master bathroom. She was excited to meet Elain’s man. She had heard a lot about Azriel throughout the last few years, and Nesta wanted to meet this guy for herself.

The man that stole her sister's sweet, beautiful heart.

She wondered if Elain had asked Feyre and if so, if Feyre would show up.

Nesta wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t.

Nesta didn’t care if she didn’t.

Either way, Nesta had to admit that a night out would do her good. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had gone out or done anything for herself, other than work.

As the air conditioner kicked on, she was hit with a sudden chill and regretted only wearing a towel. She’d brought her outfit for the evening and didn’t want to put it on until she was ready to leave, but the clothes she’d worn earlier today were sweaty and gross.

She’d found her mother’s old clothes in one of the closets upstairs earlier and wondered if the floral robe she used to wear was there as well. Tightening her towel, she headed upstairs and was passing by the bathroom when the door opened up.

Nesta screamed and jumped backwards, Cassian stepping back similarly. He almost slipped on the damp tile but kept his footing.

As her breathing returned to normal, Nesta asked, “What in the hell are you doing here? You said you lived in the log cabin!”

“I do, but I got bucked off one of the mares and was covered in mud and shit.” He crossed his arms over his tattooed chest. “Why aren’t you down in your fancy, new house?”

She put her hands on her hips, standing her ground. “My water is off and someone hasn’t told me where the main shutoff is so I can turn it back on.”

Cassian lifted a brow. “Someone hasn’t asked.”

Nesta shook her head. “Get out. I have to get ready.”

Cassian made a show of his eyes grazing over her body, covered in only a towel. She had to force herself to not do the same to him. She was perfectly aware of the small, blue cotton towel that covered only a small portion of his massive frame. She was perfectly aware of how low that towel hung on his hips.

“Can I get dressed first?” He asked, voice quiet as his eyes met hers, once more.

The minute they did, she couldn’t look away. “If you must.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else, especially when his tongue peeked out to wet his bottom lip. But instead, he silently closed the door between them, and Nesta released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She continued down to the study in the hall and to the closet where she’d found her mother’s clothes. It only took her a few seconds of searching before she found the thin, soft, blue and white fabric.

It felt just like she’d remembered.

Nesta dropped her towel and, after shaking it out, put the robe on, thankful that her father had been such an emotional sap and couldn’t get rid of anything of her mother’s.

Nesta’s mother was a beautiful woman, but Elain was shaped most like her. Her chest and hips were not nearly as full as Nesta’s, which made the short, modest robe her mother had worn around the house nearly obscene on Nesta. Nevertheless, she wore it, loving the feel of it on her skin.

She walked back down the stairs with her towel draped over her arm, finding the bathroom door open and the room empty, steam still fogging the mirror, and turned toward the kitchen to get her coffee. She found him already in there and she hesitated, but continued in.

“Nice robe,” he said, peering over his mug.

“Gotta date?” She shot back, eyeing his clean jeans and button down shirt. His feet were bare.

Cassian chuckled. “Not quite. Your sister asked me to dinner with her and Az.”

Nesta froze, just as she was about to start pouring her coffee.

“Judging from your reaction, I assume you’ll be there, too.”

Nesta sighed, continuing to pour her coffee before taking a sip. “You’d assume correctly.”

Cassian smiled - true and genuine. “Let me drive you. Save gas.”

Nesta didn’t reply. “Tell me about Azriel.”

Cassian's brows shot up. “What?”

“Tell me about him. Elain is sure he’s the one, so I want to know everything.”

Cassian slowly sat his mug down and ran a hand through his damp hair. “He’s a great guy. Caring. Loves Elain more than I ever thought he’d love anyone. We’ve known each other since we were kids. I’m surprised you don’t remember him from high school.”

Nesta’s gaze shot to his. “What?”

Cassian's brows rose. “He went to high school with us.”

With us. Nesta hesitated, and Cassian definitely noticed.

“Ah, I knew you didn’t remember. Doesn’t surprise me. Your nose was always stuck in a book. Everyone thought you were a complete bitch, by the way.”

Nesta sat down her mug with far too much force on the countertop. “You don’t know what the hell you're talking about.”

“Am I wrong?” Cassian asked, chuckling.

Nesta practically growled, “About which part?”

“Any of it.” He took a drink of his coffee.

Nesta was quiet for a few seconds, knowing she couldn’t contradict any of what he’d said.

No, she didn’t remember him.

Yes, her nose was always in a book.

Yes, she was a complete bitch.

Dropping the subject for another time, she instead asked, “What does he do?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you ask Elain or Az these things at dinner?”

“Because I want prior knowledge going in. She mentioned something about a dealership last night? But also tractors?”

“New tractor dealership opened in town. He’s a mechanic there. He used to work for a local business, but they had to shut it down last year. You’ll come to find that most local businesses around here aren’t making it anymore,” he said.

Nesta looked around. She knew the B&B had been struggling for years, but her father had never given up on it.

“Well, I guess I’ll get ready, if you’ll excuse me,” Nesta said, taking her mug and walking toward the hallway.

“No more questions?” Cassian asked, and when Nesta looked over her shoulder she found him watching her walk away.

“Is he good to my sister?” Nesta asked.

She was surprised to see his eyes soften when he said, “Very.”

Nesta turned without another word and headed back to the master bedroom to finish getting ready.

A half hour later, her hair and makeup were done and she was shimmying herself into a tight pair of jeans, a black tank top, and a pair of tennis shoes. Cassian was still sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through his phone.

“I can drive myself, you know,” she muttered, putting her empty mug in the sink.

When she turned back around, his phone was ignored, all his attention was on her. A moment passed and he cleared his throat. “I realize that, but it’s never a bad idea to have a designated driver when you’re going to a bar.”

Nesta raised a brow. “You don’t drink?”

Cassian's grin widened. “I can just hold my alcohol.”

“And I can’t?” Nesta scoffed.

Cassian shrugged. “I don’t know, can you?”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “Fine. There’s no point in both of us driving. Since I mean, we live together. Not together! But- Shit.” She sighed. “But we’re taking my car.”

He chuckled, but she could see the grin he was hiding, and got to his feet. “Like hell we are.”

They bickered the whole way to the door, which took longer than one would have expected. Nesta telling him she wasn’t riding in a dirty, beat up, old pickup and Cassian telling her to get the stick out of her ass and not worry about a little dirt.

As they stepped out onto the front porch, Nesta locking the door and hiding the key, she said, “These shoes were two hundred dollars, I’m not putting them anywhere near cow shit.”

Cassian just stared at her. “You own a cattle ranch.” Nesta hated it when he used logic and was going to tell him as much when he continued on and headed down the porch stairs. “And they’re just as likely to get dirty at the bar as they are out here. Now come on, this isn’t up for discussion. I can’t even fit in your tiny car.” He opened the passenger door and waited for him.

But Nesta was staring. Mouth open, not blinking, full on staring. “What is that?”

Cassian sighed. “It’s my truck, now get in, let’s go. It’s been a long ass day and I want a beer.”

This was not the truck Nesta was expecting to find out front. This definitely wasn’t the truck she’d seen him driving around the property. No, that truck had been on this property for as long as she could remember.

Nesta, stunned into silence, did as she was told. He had to help her up into the cab, and the second his hands were on her, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.

“You okay?” Cassian asked, waiting as she turned her legs out of the way of the door.

Nesta nodded and he closed the door, heading to the driver’s side. She shook her head a couple times, trying to clear the fog in her head that always seemed to cloud her thoughts to when she was around him.

He started the truck, which was much quieter than Nesta was expecting and they were on their way.

It was quiet the first few minutes, only quiet music playing through the radio. Cassian kept time with the songs in multiple ways. Sometimes, he would brush his fingers along his jeans, almost like he was playing guitar. Sometimes, he’d tap the beat out with his non-driving foot. But mostly, he drummed on the steering wheel, often with his thumbs but occasionally, his whole hands.

Nesta just stared out the window. Finally, she turned to him and asked, “I’m sorry, if this comes off as rude, but how exactly were you able to buy this truck?” Cassian opened his mouth to reply but Nesta charged on. “Cause this is a very, very nice, very, very new truck.”

Cassian looked offended. “Definitely came off as rude.” Nesta rolled her eyes. “I-”

“I’m just kidding, relax,” Cassian said, laughing. “We just met, you can’t know all my secrets.” 

“Oh my god,” Nesta began, staring at him from the passenger seat. “It’s illegal, isn’t it? You’re a hit man, aren’t you? Or a thief, oh my-”

“I can promise you I don’t break the law,” Cassian promised, then winked. “Often.” 

Nesta shook her head. “You’re an interesting man.”

Cassian laughed. “Yeah, so are you. But, you know, a woman. By the way, we need to get you a pair of boots.”

Nesta looked down at her sneakers. “What’s wrong with these?”

“First of all, who the hell spends two hundred dollars on a pair of tennis shoes?” Cassian asked, then went on without giving her a chance to answer. “Secondly, must I continuously remind you that you now own a ranch?”

“I can be a ranch owner in my nice shoes.”

Cassian smiled as he turned into the parking lot of the bar. “But why the hell would you want to?”

She looked across the truck to his giant feet. He still wore his dusty boots. “Maybe you’re the one that needs new shoes. How long have you had those? They’re practically falling apart.” 

“We’re not talking about me here, okay? We’re talking about you.” He hopped out of the truck before Nesta could respond and as quick as a flash, he was opening her door for her and helping her down from the cab. “And I’m pretty sure as soon as we go inside, you’ll see that I’m not exactly in the minority here, sweetheart.”

When he put her feet down on the ground, he kept his arms around her for a second and Nesta groaned in disgust and pushed back against his chest.

His rock hard, muscled chest.

He stepped back and as Nesta looked up into his hazel eyes, she tried not to think about the two times she’s seen him without his shirt, and the one with almost nothing. She cleared her throat and looked away. She started heading for the door and said, “So, heads up this could be...rough.”

Cassian caught up, sliding his hands in his pockets, after locking the truck behind them. “Okay?”

“I’m sure Elain invited Feyre, though I don’t know if she’ll come.” Nesta paused, realizing just how much anxiety she was feeling on walking through those peeling double doors. “She hates confrontation just as much as I do.”

Cassian was confused. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t she come?”

Nesta sighed, stopping before they got too close to the doors. “Feyre and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, okay? She’s never forgiven me for leaving when mom died and I’ve never exactly given her a reason to, but… Gods, I just couldn’t stay here anymore.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Cassian said, leaning against the brick wall. “Rhys will be here, and I’m sure he can calm her down.”

“Who’s Rhys?” Nesta asked, glancing over at him.

His eyebrows nearly shot into his hairline. “Her fiancé…”

“Her fiancé?” Nesta rubbed her temples. “I need a drink.”

She felt calloused hands wrap around her wrists and they were pulled from her head. Cass dropped her hands at her sides and said “It’s a good thing we’re at a bar then because I think I can help with that.” Despite herself, Nesta laughed. “Come on, boss. Let’s go.”

Her nose wrinkled as they started walking into the bar together. “Oh, don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

Cassian snorted. “You sure? I would’ve thought the subservient inferior thing would do it for you.”

Nesta threw her head back and laughed, the sound so rich and beautiful, it stunned Cassian into silence for a moment.

“Cassian!”

His head whipped to the side, toward the bartender who’d called his name. “What’s up, Luce?”

He pointed toward the far corner of the bar. “In the back, corner booth. You want the usual?”

Cassian glanced down at Nesta. She asked, “What’s the usual?”

He smirked. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

She didn’t miss a beat before she tilted her head and said, “Make mine a double.”

Cassian’s eyebrows raised again and he said, “Okay. I’ll see you at the table.”

“Okay.” Nesta walked towards the back corner that the bartender, Lucien, she recalled his name being, letting her hips sway a little more than she typically would. But this banter, this back and forth with Cassian... It made her feel...different.

It had been far too long since she’d been with a man. Far too long since she’d found release in anything but her hand or some form of plastic. And even though he annoyed her to no end, even though he pushed her buttons and made her insane, Nesta found herself wondering just how far she could push him.

She was thinking about how good he’d looked wearing nothing but jeans and those dirty boots when someone stepped in her path. “Excuse me, if I could just-.” Nesta paused, realizing that she was looking into her own eyes. “Feyre?

A decade had done her baby sister well. She had grown up, that was for sure, a woman now, not the awkward teenager Nesta had left behind.

Feyre didn’t say anything, didn’t smile or even react to her eldest sister saying her name. Instead, she pulled back her hand.

Next thing Nesta knew, her face was screaming in sharp, searing pain. Strong arms wrapped around her and turned her away from her sister’s rage but her voice seemed to be farther away, too. Granted, the entire bar went silent at the sound of skin on skin, and when Nesta looked up, tears welling in her left eye, she found Cassian looking down at her. “You okay?”

She nodded, pressing her hand to her already swelling cheek. She could hear another hushed male voice calming Feyre down but couldn’t find the courage to look away from Cassian’s hazel eyes.

Cassian let her go and turned his back to her. His voice was light as he said, “A simple hello would have been good, Feyre.”

Nesta watched over his shoulder.

Feyre was storming away, and all that stood in her place was a man who Nesta assumed was Rhys. 

He looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck. “She, uh, needs a minute.”

Meanwhile, at the table in the corner, Elain looked horrified. She was sitting, hands over her mouth, as a man wearing a black hoodie and a baggy beanie whispered into her ear. 

Nesta was mortified.

Even as the people around her moved on, resuming their conversations and whatever else, Nesta knew her face had turned a deep shade of red - and not just where Feyre had slapped her. 

“This was a mistake,” she whispered, backing away. “Take me back to the ranch.”

Cassian turned to meet her gaze and Rhys followed Feyre into the hallway where the restrooms were, both of them disappearing. 

“Stay a while,” Cassian said, voice low. 

“After that?” Nesta laughed, palm still pressed against her cheek. “Fuck, no. Take me back.”

“Not before you have a drink.”

Nesta’s embarrassment was quickly turning into anger. “Take. Me. Back.”

Cassian paid her no mind. Instead, he went around her and spoke in hushed tones to Lucien. The bartender nodded, poured two shots and placed them beside what Cassian had previously ordered - the usual. 

Before Cassian could even say a word, Nesta had two shots down and was sipping on a tall glass of whiskey. 

Cassian watched with what looked like amazement. “Slow d-”

“Tell me to slow down and you’re the next person in this bar getting slapped,” Nesta snapped, sitting on a barstool. 

Cassian took a seat next to her. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I can’t believe she fucking slapped me,” Nesta said, quietly, head already beginning to feel light. She didn’t drink much, just a glass of wine from time to time. She spent too much time working to drink. “I knew she wouldn’t be exactly pleased to see me, but…”

“When she comes back, I’m sure she’ll apologize,” Cassian promised, putting his own glass to his lips. 

“I don’t want an apology,” Nesta said.

Cassian shook his head. “I know we’ve just met, but you are one stubborn woman.”

Nesta was so focused on her drink that she didn’t notice Elain coming toward her. It wasn’t until her arms were thrown around Nesta’s neck that she put her glass down on the bar.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said, obviously trying to pretend like their family drama hadn’t just been the bar’s entertainment. “This is Azriel.”

Nesta smiled, taking in his dark apparel. “You don’t look like someone that would work on tractors.” A laugh sputtered from her lips.

Cassian looked from her, to her glass, then to Elain. “She wasn’t kidding. She really can’t hold her liquor.” 

Azriel just smiled, gently. “Not the first time I’ve heard. Elain’s told me a lot about you.”

Nesta leaned closer to him when she whispered, “And Cassian has told me a lot about you.”

“Oh no,” Azriel chuckled, looking to Cassian. “All good things I hope?”

Cassian shrugged. “Keep hoping.”

About that time, a door slammed on the other half of the bar. The four of them turned to see Feyre storm from the bathroom, grab her purse from the booth and walk out the front door. She didn’t so much as spare a glance at their direction.

“Oof,” Azriel breathed, watching the door slowly close behind Feyre’s retreating figure. He then glanced over to see Rhysand leaving the bathroom, rubbing his hands over his face in exasperation. “Bigger oof.”

Rhy looked at the table and found it empty, but glanced over and found their group looking towards him. He made his way through the crowd until he joined them.

As he approached, a shot glass appeared next to Azriel’s arm and he handed it to Rhys after throwing a grateful look to Lucien. Rhys tossed it back and let out a sharp breath. He pointed at Cass, Az and Elain with each word he said. “Not one of you assholes could at least warn me that she was coming?”

Nesta understood his frustrations, but the alcohol in her had her too far gone to care. “What? How am I the bad guy here?”

Elain looked sympathetically at Nesta as she said, “If we did, Feyre wouldn’t have come and you know it.”

“Wow,” Nesta said, cutting off whatever Rhysand was about to say in response. “You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

“Well, Feyre’s pissed now, so...” Rhysand sighed, then truly looked at Nesta. 

Nesta couldn’t tell what he was thinking and, thanks to the alcohol, she really didn’t care. “Look, you hurry after her and tell her that I love her. Okay? Then...you can come back and get me another drink. Bartender!”

“Okay,” Cassian said, looking over his shoulder to shake his head at Lucien. “I think you-.” When Cassian looked back to Nesta, she had finished off his drink. “Seriously?”

“Also, who the fuck does Feyre think she is? I mean...she isn’t perfect, either. She hates me, so what? She’s not the only one that ha-ha-hates me. I hate me. I had to get out. I had to leave, okay? I had to go. It’s-it’s-it’s not my fault she doesn’t understand that.” Nesta was pointing to where Feyre had disappeared through the double doors, into the night. “I had to leave. I had to.”

Elain looked up to Azriel with sorrow-filled brown eyes. 

Nesta snorted. “Cassian.” She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to her. “Get the red-haired man to give me another glass of the usual.” 

All of Rhysand’s frustration seemed to have faded as he watched Nesta allow the alcohol to consume her. “Look, I’ll talk to Feyre, okay? Maybe we can get together...soon…”

Nesta shrugged. “She won’t listen. She’s almost as stubborn as me. You know, people have always said we both take after our mo-.” Nesta froze, unable to get the word out. She cleared her throat, picking up the glass behind her that had just been refilled. “Our mom.”

With that, she downed its contents. 

Cassian handed her a glass of water and stepped in front of her and she sipped it. He leaned down so he was eye level with her. “You okay?” She nodded. “You gonna get sick?” She shook her head no. “Good.”

He took the now half empty glass of water and set it back on the bar, before unceremoniously tossing Nesta over his shoulder. He grabbed her clutch where it was sitting on the bar and waved it at his family. “Glad we could do this, can’t wait to get everyone back together again.”

“Put. Me. Down!” Each word Nesta hollered was punctuated by a swift hit to his lower back. Or was it his ass? She couldn’t tell, nor did she care.

“Lucien, I’ll get you next time, okay?”

Cassian didn’t even need to look back over his shoulder to see his friend close out his tab at a zero balance and wrote his name on the long IOU list.

He pushed through the open doors and Nesta was still fighting him as he carried her towards the truck. “Put me down, you brute!”

“Nope, I’m doing you like you asked first. Taking you back to the ranch.” He readjusted his grip on her and his left hand planted firmly on her ass.

She gasped. “You did that on purpose.”

Cassian chuckled. “Made you stop fighting me.”

He unlocked the passenger door and dropped her on the truck bench. He tossed her clutch inside before shutting the door and walking to the driver’s side. As he was getting inside, Nesta locked eyes with Feyre, who was sitting on the bed of a black truck, parked a few spaces away. 

Waiting for Rhysand, no doubt.

But Rhysand was not the reason that Feyre’s cheeks were red and blotchy, her eyes swollen. 

Nesta quickly looked away as Cassian backed out of their parking spot and found the main road. 

“That was fun,” Cassian observed. 

Nesta looked over at him, watched as he kept one hand on the wheel and rested the other on the gear shift. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing tattoos along his forearms. 

“Do they have meaning?” Nesta asked, surprised at how quiet her voice had become.

Cassian glanced at her, brow raised, before realizing she was looking at his tattoos. “Some of them, yeah.”

“Let me guess, you’re not going to tell me because I can’t know all your secrets?” She asked, repeating the excuse he had told her so many times throughout the last forty-eight hours.

Cassian huffed a laugh, biting on his bottom lip. “Look at you, already knowing what I’m going to say.”

Nesta laughed, under her breath, as she looked at the road in front of them. There had been a time when Nesta had loved Velaris, had loved all it had to offer. She rested her head against the window and admired the starlight. 

“What about you?” Nesta asked, refusing to look his way. “Do you think I’m a bitch?”

“I think you’re….” He weighed a few words in his head, deciding which one fit best. “Difficult.”

“Difficult?” Nesta laughed. “You make me sound like a misbehaving child!”

“Well…” Cassian said, taking a sharp breath between his teeth.

“Shut up!” Nesta cried, laughing again, covering her face with her hands.

The truck stopped and settled as Cassian put it into park. A calloused finger gently pried one of her hands from her face. “Are you okay?”

Nesta knew he wasn’t asking her about her alcohol tolerance level this time. She pulled her hand away, which had still been resting on her throbbing cheek, and pressed her fingers into the tender skin. She nodded.

“I’m sorry that happened. I really am.”

She looked over at him, his voice much closer than she expected. She didn’t recognize the surroundings around her. “Where are we?”

“Outside my place. I knew the freezer was out at the main house and didn’t know what you had in yours. I know I’ve got a bag of peas inside I was gonna grab and-.”

Nesta was unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding out of the cab.

“I was just gonna grab them and take you back up to the main house,” Cassian said, killing the engine and hopping out behind her.

“I want to see it,” Nesta said, walking toward the porch. “I’ve always thought it was cute.” She stepped in something slimy and looked down. “Are you kidding me?!”

Cassian walked over to where she was standing and laughed. He laughed harder than he had in months and said, “Now do you believe we should get you some boots?” Nesta didn’t say a word, she just scraped what she could off into the grass around her. Cassian made his way up the steps of the cabin and said, “Besides, that wasn’t from a horse. That was from Beau.”

Nesta asked, “Who’s Beau?” right as Cassian opened the door.

A Blue Heeler pup, no older than six months came tearing out the door.

Nesta instantly forgot about her shoes as the pup jumped up on her legs. 

Cassian whistled. “Down, Beau.”

“It’s okay,” Nesta laughed, scratching behind his ears. “He’s sweet.”

Beau wagged his tail, knowing full well he was showing off and his cuteness was being accepted. The pup trotted around Nesta as she crossed the threshold into the small cabin.

Cassian tossed his keys on a side table, next to a recliner in the main room. “I’m training him to help me around the ranch.” 

Nesta raised a brow as Beau hurried out the front door. “Yeah? How’s that going?”

Cassian closed the screen door as he watched Beau chasing his tail at the bottom of the steps. “Not great so far.” 

Nesta laughed, stepping up beside him. “Thanks for driving me tonight. Even if you hauling me out of the bar was completely unnecessary….I would have done something I’d regret if I stayed.”

Cassian glanced sideways at her before turning to face her, head on. “Starting to sober up, are you?”

Nesta snorted. “I’m fine. My head is just a little...light.”

“Ah,” Cassian grinned. “The light phase.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, realizing how close they were standing to one another before taking a step back.

“So,” Cassian said, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re inside. What do you think?”

It was simple. Clean.

There was a woven blanket tossed over the recliner in the living room, but that, a soft leather couch, the side table, and the television sitting on top of a little table, were all that were in there. There was no table in the kitchen, but a refrigerator, a microwave, and an oven. 

“It’s nice,” she said, quietly.

Cassian laughed. “I’m not sure I believe you. Take a seat.”

He nodded toward the recliner and Nesta obeyed as Cassian went into the kitchen and opened the freezer, pulling out a sealed bag of frozen peas.

Nesta had made herself comfortable by the time he reached her and placed the bag gently over her cheek. “I know it was shitty what she did, but Feyre has one hell of a slap.” 

Nesta nudged him in the shin with her foot.

He chuckled and made his way back towards the kitchen. Nesta took a minute to lean back and close her eyes. She heard the opening and closing of a few cupboards and some ice cubes tinkling in glasses. She heard tiny hard pieces of food getting poured into a bowl. She heard his boots, heavy on the wood floor, as he made his way to the door and whistled once. The dog was inside in a matter of seconds and chowing down on his dinner. And then she heard a thud near her head.

Her eyes flew open as she looked over where the noise came from.

“I don’t think I can handle another usual,” she admitted, sheepishly.

He chuckled, leaning against the counter top bar. “I can promise you’ll like that better than the one at the bar. Try it.”

Nesta hesitantly picked it up and sniffed. It smelled sweet. “What is it?”

“Try it, sweetheart, and then I’ll tell you.” He took a large drink from his own glass, which seemed to be the same thing she was drinking. She watched him for a minute, eyes narrowed. “What?” He laughed, chewing on an ice cube.

She looked from him to the drink and back. “Waiting to make sure you aren’t about drop dead from whatever poison you were trying to sneak to me.”

Cassian began to laugh. No, not only laugh. He began to howl. He was laughing so hard, Beau began to howl along with him. Nesta’s eyes were huge by the time he calmed down and could speak to her.

“Just try it, damn it,” he said, before helping himself to more of his own. 

Nesta took a small, hesitant sip. The cool liquid was definitely sweeter than the usual at the bar.

“Maple bourbon,” Cassian muttered, finishing his glass and setting it on the table before sitting on the floor across from the recliner. 

Nesta took another sip. “It’s good.”

“I know,” Cassian said, smiling up at her.

They watched each other for a moment, and Nesta soon became uncomfortable at his gaze. Not because she feared him, but because she didn’t fear him at all. 

“I’m sorry about this morning. I was unfair to you.”

Cassian’s brows rose. “You’re just saying that because you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Neither am I,” he said, but his voice had grown significantly softer. 

Their eyes still remained connected to one another’s. 

Nesta swore she could hear his deep, unsteady breaths, as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I should probably go.”

She looked over and couldn’t read the expression on his face. She set the bag down, giving him her attention. “Or...you could stay and have another drink with me.” Nesta opened her mouth to explain why that was a bad idea but he held up a finger and began again. “Not because I’m trying to get in your pants, but because I think it’ll be easier for us to open up this way. No holds barred, yeah? No secrets, for the most part, just two coworkers getting to know each other.”

Nesta watched him, waited, and asked, “For the most part?”

Cassian smiled, a wicked grin, and said, “See, that’s where the drinking comes in. You don’t have to answer, but then you have to drink.”

She blinked at him. “So we’re playing ‘Twenty Questions’?”

Cassian stood, taking her glass with a huff, and saying, “Well, now it doesn’t sound as cool, does it?”

Nesta giggled, actually giggled, as he filled their glasses back to the top and gave Nesta a straw. He reached out to hand it back to her, but took it back at the last minute. She flinched and looked up at him. “No half ass girly sips,” he said, hazel eyes sparkling. “It better count.”

She snatched the glass from him and he laughed, sitting back down against the wall. He whistled once and instantly Beau was there against his side.

Nesta’s eyebrows were raised. “I’m impressed,” she said, not hiding her amusement.

He rubbed the pup’s side lovingly. “He’s a good one, that’s for sure.” He pulled his boots off one at a time and tossed them by the door, each with a loud thud. Once he’d finally settled in, he waved to her. “Ladies first.”

Nesta took a minute to think about it. “How old are you?”

Cassian blinked. “That’s the worst question, ever.”

Nesta threw her hands in the air. “Well, I thought I’d start with something simple.”

Cassian laughed, leaning his head back. “Alright. Twenty-seven.”

“Me too,” Nesta said.

“I know. We were in the same graduating class.”

Nesta cursed. She kept forgetting they went to the same high school. 

“Your turn,” she urged.

“Hmmmm,” he said, pretending to think a lot harder than he actually was. “Are you happy to be back on the ranch?”

For a split second, Nesta thought about taking a drink, but she came to the conclusion that the question really wasn’t all that bad. “Kinda.”

“That’s it?” he laughed. “Kinda?”

“You didn’t say I had to give extensive answers,” she laughed.

Cassian shook his head. “Well, now I am. New rule.”

“You can’t just add rules.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said, leaning back on his hands as Beau nestled himself in Cassian’s lap.

Nesta pursed her lips, rethinking that drink, but decided to attempt to explain herself. “The only reason I haven’t wanted to be here is because of the memories. And I’m really hoping that I can…make new memories to replace the bad ones.”

In the end, she did take a drink, but out of fortification, not punishment. Cassian saw that and accepted her answer, not wanting to push her. She blew a quick breath out before asking, “You said you’d been working for my dad for eight years, yeah?” Cassian nodded, even though that clearly couldn’t have just been the question. “What did you do the year between graduation and starting here?”

“Tried my hand at the professional rodeo circuit.” Cassian didn’t miss a beat.

It took Nesta back. “Really? What’d you do? Bull riding?”

“Hell no,” Cassian laughed. “I wasn’t that stupid. Well, no, I was that stupid. I was just too big. You gotta be little to ride bulls. No, I was a team roper.”

“Wow.” Nesta was watching Cassian with her head tilted, almost looking at him in a new light. “Header or heeler?”

“Header,” he replied, pretending to throw the rope at the horns. “Rhys was my heeler. We were good. Won every PRCA Jr. rodeo event in our areas. So we figured it’d be nothing to make that jump up with the big dogs.” He chuckled. “We were so wrong.” He took a quick sip before saying, “The day we got back into town I ran into your dad down at Tractor Supply. Told me he needed a ranch hand to help out since Elain had college every day and Feyre was still in high school.” Cassian chuckled. “He actually hired both of us on at first, me and Rhys. He only lasted about three months though.” He began to laugh again.

“What? Why?” Nesta couldn’t imagine her father firing anyone, much less someone she had gone to school with.

“That was when he caught him sneaking out of Feyre’s window at two in the morning.”

Nesta’s eyes grew wide before she began to howl. “Oh my god. Elain forgot to mention that in our texts throughout the years.”

Cassian laughed, gripping his glass tighter. “It was hilarious. I let your dad know I was on his side, and I proved that by picking on Rhysand every chance I got.”

“Wow,” Nesta breathed, laughter fading. “And you’ve been here ever since?”

“That’s an extra question,” he said. “Unfair.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Fine. Go.”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he met her gaze. “Elain said you were a chef. Did you like it? Was it hard to leave?”

Nesta tilted her head. “That’s two questions.”

“Pretend it’s one,” Cassian said.

Nesta looked at him for a minute before taking a long, slow drink. What could she have said? Yes, I loved it. It was my dream. I was young, incredibly successful, and rich as hell. I left because I felt guilty for the death of my parents.

Cassian nodded, watching her. “Fair enough.”

Nesta cleared her throat before abruptly asking, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Cassian’s amused smile returned.

Nesta shrugged. “I’ve seen you near-nude twice now, it’s a question, as your boss, I thought I should ask.”

Cassian’s smile grew as he shook his head. “No, I don’t. Not a lot of time for one. Haven’t really been looking. What about you? Someone overseas you were seeing?”

Nesta looked down at Beau, who was snoring quietly. “Is that your next question?”

Cassian sighed. “I suppose so.”

Nesta shook her head. “No. I worked too much. I haven’t been on a date in...shit. A few years?”

“Years?” Cassian said, eyes wide. “Hell, woman. You couldn’t take one night off from your busy schedule in years?”

She simply shrugged. “No.”

Cassian took a drink, watching her. “When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?”

As the words left his lips, Nesta was feeling hot and cold all over, all at the same time. And she didn’t think it was just from her drink. “It’s not your turn,” she breathed.

He swallowed hard and nodded, chuckling. “Go on, then.”

She took another drink of her own, before she asked, “How did you afford that truck out there.”

Cassian didn’t even try to look like he contemplated answering as he put the glass to his lips and drank deeply. “But I promise it’s not illegal,” he added with a chuckle. Nesta could hear the slight slur to his words, making the bit of drawl heavier than normal. “Do you really not remember me from high school?”

Nesta felt her shoulders sag. “No, I- I don’t. I’m sorry. But don’t feel bad,” she quickly added. “I sort of blocked everyone out and don’t remember anyone. So at least I don’t remember you, instead of remembering you for a bad reason.”

Cassian nodded, amused. “Well, I remember you.”

Her cheeks burned. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

“I can’t talk in between questions?” He laughed.

Nesta shook her head. “Nope, that’s my rule.”

Cassian took a sip from his glass. “Rules were made to be broken, you know.”

Nesta couldn’t stop her smile. “What do your tattoos mean?”

Cassian rolled up his sleeves even further and examined the ink. “A lot of things.”

“Bad answer,” Nesta said, slipping off her shoes and bringing her feet up beneath her in the chair.

Cassian nodded. “Then I guess I’ll drink.” He raised his glass before bringing it to his mouth. 

“And here I thought we were playing this game to get to know each other,” Nesta laughed.

“Can’t give you-“

“All your secrets,” Nesta finished. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” He asked.

“What?” She laughed. “So you can know mine but I can’t know yours?”

His eyes lit up. They were glazed, but so excited. “So you do. What are they?”

Nesta took a sip, but because she was copping out, but because as the night went on, as the ice melted into the sweet bourbon, she loved the taste of it. “It’s just one,” she said, standing. She began to unbutton her pants and she heard Cassian swallow harshly. She looked up at him. “Down boy,” she chuckled. “It’s on my hip. I can’t exactly show with my pants all the way on.”

He cleared his throat and stood, refilling his glass. When he came back to the threadbare living room, Nesta had the left side of her jeans pulled down, exposing her hip bone. As he looked at it, Nesta explained, “It’s a dandelion. To remind myself that everyone, even I deserve a second chance, even though you might have to endure some harsh winds.”

When she looked away from her tattoo, she caught sight of the way his jeans seemed to be a bit more tight than they were before. Letting her eyes travel up his body, she saw the  way his body was rigid, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes, that woody hazel that she kept losing herself in, it was almost completely gone, his pupils blown out. “Your turn,” he breathed, and as his breath fanned across her face, she realized how closely they stood together.

Nesta’s breathing hitched as her entire body felt weightless.

His words from before replayed in her mind. When’s the last time someone took care of you, sweetheart?

“If given the chance,” she began, voice hushed, “would you fuck me?”

The question, asked in no more than a whisper, lingered in the quiet cabin.

Cassian said nothing as those deep, hazel eyes bore into her own. And then, he took a long, slow drink, before setting down his glass on the table beside her chair.

Breaking his gaze from hers, he went down the short hallway and disappeared into the back bedroom.

Nesta stared after him. She probably should have been embarrassed, but the alcohol coursing through her system told her not to be.

Instead, jeans still unbuttoned, she took an unbalanced step toward the front door, then another.

It wasn’t until she heard quick, heavy footsteps coming back her way that she turned around and was met with Cassian’s lips crashing into her own.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #tacmc toab tag team #toab tacmc collab #throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #a court of silver flames

[snelbz]

The Ranch {5}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

The air was thick in the kitchen as Nesta stirred the sauce she was simmering in the skillet on the stove top. It was her secret recipe, one that won her the hearts of many overseas.

Feyre was seated at the kitchen table, sipping a glass of wine, staring daggers into Nesta’s back.

Nesta could feel her sister’s stare and she didn’t want to turn around to meet it.

Elain was supposed to be there.

She was running late.

“So,” Nesta began, clearing her throat. “I’m glad you came.”

Feyre said nothing.

Nesta stared into the skillet. “I plan to have a reopening for the B&B. Hopefully near the end of the summer. I was hoping you and Lainy could help.”

Still nothing.

Nesta’s jaw clenched as she dumped a stack of noodles into a pot on the back burner before turning over the breaded chicken on a separate burner. 

She could keep trying, but she would only be wasting her breath. Feyre and her hadn’t talked for years, Nesta knew it would be rough. But, she couldn’t live in Velaris without trying to reconnect with the only family she had left, which was why she had invited her sisters over for dinner.

If only Elain would hurry the fuck up.

Nesta reached for her own glass of wine and took a full swallow, turning and staring out the window.

She’d taken to cooking in the main house with its gorgeous up-to-date kitchen. It was the best way for her to still have a little piece of her old life. But the only problem with that meant that she couldn’t get away from him.

And as she gazed out over the pastures, the sun setting on the other side of the farm, she caught sight of his tanned, inked, muscular back as he led his horse back down towards the stables.

He’d shown up at the main house the day after their conversation, asking to talk to her. He had been almost bashful and seemed apologetic, but she’d barely slept the night before.

The last thing he’d said before he’d walked out kept repeating in her mind.

And to think I thought your own sister was wrong about you.

Nesta sighed, not meaning for it to be quite as dramatic as it was, and took another drink of her wine.

“So what made you decide not to fuck him?”

Nesta stilled, wine glass still lingering in front of her open lips. She cleared her throat, “What?”

“Cassian’s more open with Rhys and Az than you are with your own sisters,” Feyre said, hostility lacing her tone. “And, contrary to popular belief, he’s not the best at keeping his feelings hidden.”

Nesta slowly turned to face her youngest sister. She was sitting at the table, golden-brown hair high in a pony-tail. Her arms were crossed, her chin raised high, those gray-blue eyes that mirrored her own full of distaste. 

“That’s none of your business,” Nesta replied, shortly.

Feyre scoffed, shaking her head. “You wanted me to come over so we could start over. Well, I’m here, and I’m asking questions. You’re not off to a very good start in mending our relationship.”

Nesta wanted so badly to tell Feyre to fuck off, to get out, but she knew it was just the sudden rise in emotion talking. As her body filled with discomfort, Nesta turned back to the stove, nodding slowly. 

She continued to stir her homemade sauce as it simmered.

“It wasn’t right,” Nesta said, simply, words clipped. “I was drunk and got carried away.”

Feyre snorted. “Blame it on the alcohol-.”

“I was as drunk as I was because my sister slapped me in front of a fucking bar full of people,” Nesta snapped.

Feyre kept silent, and Nesta didn’t dare look back over her shoulder. It was true - true enough, anyway. Nesta had deserved to get slapped, no matter what she had told herself up until that point. But, it didn’t erase the fact that it left her embarrassed in a room full of people and shamed among her own family and friends - if they could even be considered friends, which, Nesta was pretty sure they couldn’t. 

“I’m sorry I slapped you,” Feyre said, at last, “but, I’m not going to apologize for being pissed.”

Nesta nodded, curtly, staring into the skillet.

A minute passed before Feyre asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

This time, Nesta did look over her shoulder, brow raised.

With tight lips, Feyre shrugged. “I’m trying too.”

After a deep breath, Nesta decided that she should take the opportunity while it presented itself. If she didn’t, the opportunity might not come again. 

“He intrigued me,” Nesta began.

Feyre snorted. “Yeah, he has that effect on people.”  

Shaking her head, Nesta leaned back against the counter top. “It wasn’t just the alcohol. Maybe some of it, but he did….I was intrigued. He’s handsome, obviously, and he was being kind. And we were alone, and I haven’t been alone with a handsome man in a long time, Feyre. But, then it all started, and I… Everything came back to me.” Her voice had become hushed, and she was staring at her crossed arms, at her index finger drawing circles around a freckle on her elbow. “The last time I was with a man was in college, and everyone knows how that turned out - including, apparently, Cassian, judging by the self loathing in his eyes when he tried to come in here to talk to me this afternoon.”

To Nesta’s surprise, some of the tension faded from Feyre’s shoulders and her eyes softened. “Cassian is a good guy, Nesta.”

“I’m his boss,” Nesta said. “Nothing good ever comes from that.” 

“He does this work so he can keep his house and do something he loves,” Feyre began, cocking her head to the side as she watched her sister. Nesta felt bare and vulnerable beneath that gaze. “He makes the money he lives off of elsewhere. You’re hardly his boss.”

Nesta disagreed, but she kept the comment to herself. Instead, she asked, “What does he do?”

Feyre hesitated. “That’s not my information to give out.” There wasn’t any rudeness to her voice, just fact.

Nesta tried to keep the frustration from her tone, but the small laugh that left her sounded bitter even to her own ears. “Yeah, all I keep getting told is that it isn’t illegal, and with all the secrecy, I’m starting to wonder.”

Feyre sighed. “Does he seem like the type to sell drugs, Nes?”

Nes.

Hearing the familiar nickname from her baby sister’s lips melted whatever ice had hardened between them at the change in subject and Nesta turned, sitting down in the barstool next to Feyre.

“We should...talk,” Nesta said, carefully.

Feyre, eyes wary, took another drink of her wine. Nesta could practically see the shields raising again. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

“I know, we are, but I just-.” Nesta sighed. “We need to talk about me leaving.” Feyre clearly wasn’t expecting her to bring it up so directly, because she physically flinched. Nesta pressed on. “We need to talk about why I left, and how you felt, and what exactly happened. It’s been almost ten years. We’re big girls now, and I-.” Nesta hesitated again. “I want my baby sister back…”

Feyre’s eyes, the twin to Nesta’s own, softened and she opened her mouth to reply, but the back door burst open.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Elain said, eyes darting between them both, a look of sheer panic on her face.

Feyre looked at Elain, at their sweet sister who was so concerned with their relationship, who just wanted to see her sisters back to normal, and turned back to Nesta. A soft smile graced her lips. “Let’s get coffee one day this week.”

Nesta nodded, a breath leaving her body as she said, “Okay.”

“What did I miss?” Elain asked, pulling out the stool next to Feyre’s.

“Everything,” Feyre assured her.

Elain frowned as she sat. “Even the Cassian thing?” she whispered, even though she was fully aware that Nesta was sitting right there and could hear perfectly clearly.

Feyre grinned as Nesta rolled her eyes. “Yes, and I’m not repeating any of it.”

Nesta pushed herself out of the chair and went back to the stovetop. Behind her, Feyre said, “We’ll blame Azriel, I assume it’s his fault you’re late.”

Elain’s cheeks had reddened when Nesta turned back around. “He came home on his break. He works late tonight.”

“Thought you both had the day off?” Nesta asked, reaching up into the cupboard for a mix of seasonings and spices.

Elain sighed. “Low man on the totem pole once more. They had two mechanics call out, so they needed him to come in and cover.” Feyre poured her a glass of wine and she nodded her thanks before taking a healthy sip. “On the plus side, it’s all overtime. So, we’ll take it.”

“Was Az hammered when he got home last night?” Feyre asked.

Elain snorted. “No, but he smelled like a frat house.”

“Rhys did, too!” Feyre laughed. “I made him shower before he could get back in bed.”

The two girls giggled and Nesta couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. At the familiarity, at the ease of conversation, not just about their relationships, but with each other.

All at once, Nesta was hit with just everything she’d missed.

She felt guilty, as she had a thousand times before, but it was different now, being with them as they chatted about their lives. Meanwhile, Nesta didn’t know Rhysand or Azriel, didn’t know anything about either of her sisters' relationships - just that they were in relationships with good men.

She cleared her throat and turned. She smiled and said, “Dinner is ready. Help yourselves and I hope you enjoy.” Both Feyre and Elain looked at her with their brows raised. “What?” She asked.

Elain said, “That was so…”

“Formal,” Feyre finished for her.

Nesta chuckled. “I’ve been cooking for prime ministers and dukes and millionaire CEOs. It’s a habit.”

Nesta felt a little lighter as her sisters grabbed a plate and filled them high. Once she had her own, Nesta sat with them at the table and asked, “So, tell me about Rhys. He proposed? How?”

“In our backyard,” Feyre said, chuckling as she swallowed a mouthful of pasta. “Holy shit, this is delicious.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said, grinning, “Now continue.”

“Right,” Feyre began, setting down her fork and clapping her hands together. “In our backyard, which may not seem very romantic, but I definitely sobbed. I got home from work and I could hear him playing in the backyard, he’s a musician. Well, in his free time, anyway. So, I follow the music to the backyard and he has the porch lit up with string lights. He was already down on one knee, playing his guitar, then he started singing. I was crying before the song was even finished, and it was a full on ugly cry by the time he asked me to marry him.”

Nesta chewed, slowly, eyebrows raised. “That’s incredibly romantic.”

Elain just rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “That’s the story we all hear, anyway, but we’ve known Rhys for a long time….”

Feyre laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Azriel swears it’s all made up,” Elain said, piling her fork high with noodles. “He swears Rhys doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body.” 

“Either way,” Feyre went on, “it happened and Azriel and Cassian have given him shit since. They also beg to hear the song he wrote that he sang when he proposed, but that would only force them to give him more shit.”

Nesta laughed, quietly. “He sounds great. Rhys.”

“He is,” Feyre said, eyes growing soft as she took another bite.

“And Azriel?” Nesta asked, turning her attention to Elain.

“He’s great.” Elain said, smiling, repeating what Nesta had just said.

“I know he’s great, but tell me about him.” Nesta laughed. “I have ten years of things to catch up on.”

Feyre blinked a few times and said, “You really don’t remember any of them, do you?”

Nesta blushed. “I don’t. I feel awful, but…” She sighed. “You both know how I was in high school. I paid no attention to the people around me unless they were you two-.”

“Or Tomas Mandray?” Feyre cautiously asked.

Nesta’s teeth clacked together as her jaw hardened.

Before she could respond, Elain said, “I think there may be a few yearbooks in my closet. Let me look!”

“Please, don’t-.”

But Elain was already hurrying up the stairs, to her old bedroom, where her stuff was stored in a stack of tubs in the closet. Nesta let out a long breath as Feyre, completely humored, continued to eat her pasta. 

Elain had come back down the stairs a minute later, the yearbook from Nesta’s senior year held tightly against her chest.

“Okay,” she said, sitting back on her stool, plate forgotten for a moment. She flipped through the pages, to where the freshmen were listed, and displayed Feyre’s picture proudly.

Nesta laughed as Feyre groaned. “Bangs were not my thing.”

“I thought they looked cute,” Elain grinned, turning the page. “Ah, and here is Rhys, before he got all bulky and tattooed.” 

Nesta looked at the picture closely and huffed a laugh. “Ten years did him well.”

Feyre didn’t disagree.

Elain flipped through the book and a wide grin spread across her lips as she pointed to Azriel.

“He wears glasses?” Nesta asked.

“Contacts,” Elain said, nodding. “He doesn’t like his glasses.”

“I think they’re cute,” Feyre said, perching her chin on her fist atop the table as they all looked through the book. “Especially on prepubescent Az.” 

Nesta snorted as Elain flipped to the next page. “Ah, here’s Cassian.”

Nesta took a good look at the boy on the page. She could tell it was him, he was definitely familiar, but she didn’t remember him from then. His hair was a lot shorter, not at all close to the shoulder-length it was now. His face was clean, he probably couldn’t even grow facial hair then. But those hazel eyes were still full of mischief, even at seventeen as he stared into the camera. 

She didn’t remember any of them, though.

She had been too busy living in her own little world. 

The back door to the kitchen swung open, and as if he had known she’d been thinking of him, Cassian entered through the doorway.

He paused, hand still on the doorknob, as three sets of eyes shot his direction. Nesta’s heart began to thump wildly against her chest.

His chest, however, was bare, as Nesta assumed was the norm, and glistening with sweat. His hair was shoved back, tied behind his head. 

He blinked, and cleared his throat, “Uh, sorry. I just...was going to grab a bottle of water.”

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” Feyre asked, no doubt, Nesta assumed, trying to break the tension. 

She could hear the cheeky response before he said it, knew it would be something that would rag on her little sister as if she were his own. She’d bet, at this point, she practically was.

Instead of saying anything though, he pulled open the larger of the two fridge doors, and grabbed a couple of cold bottles of water. His eyes fell on the six pack in the door and as he turned, his eyes caught Nesta’s.

She couldn’t describe the emotions she saw roiling inside. Regret. Shame. Sadness. Anger. Frustration. Longing.

He looked like he wanted to say something, looked like he was going to ask her to talk. Nesta opened her mouth, to ask to do just that when he turned and said, “I’ll start on the stables tomorrow,” and left the kitchen without another word.

“So…” Elain said, sliding the yearbook to the middle of the kitchen table. “You want to tell me what’s going on between you two?”

Nesta stood, taking her still near full plate and scraping the contents into the trash, walking to the sink as she said, “Nothing. There’s nothing going on between us. He’s a ranch hand and I own the ranch.”

She didn’t turn as she turned on the water and began rinsing the plate.

There was a pause. “Doesn’t mean you two can’t be on friendly terms, right? I mean...that was…”

Elain’s words faded away, but then Feyre supplied, “Awkward as shit.” 

“Yeah…” Elain muttered.

“That’s not necessary,” Nesta said, opening the dishwasher and putting the plate inside. It was clear he didn’t want to talk to her, didn’t feel the need to discuss what happened that night, or the day before when she blew up at him in the kitchen.

Which, she shouldn’t have. She threatened to take away a job he loved, the home he lived in, and that wasn’t fair, no matter how pissed and mortified she was. 

“So, you’re just going to go along working together, and every time you’re in the same room, that’s going to happen?” Feyre asked. 

Nesta sighed, her face falling into her hands, her elbows leaning on the counter. “I don’t know,” she muttered.

Elain had hopped off her stool and was walking up behind her big sister. “Cassian’s a reasonable guy, Nesta. He obviously feels just as awkward about it all as you do. You should talk to him.”

She would rather stab herself in the eye.

Although, if she did that, she couldn’t see him riding through the pastures without a shirt on, and that would be a damned shame. 

“I don’t know,” Nesta sighed, leaning her hip against the counter and crossing her arms. “We both said some pretty bad stuff. I mean, sure, I want a civil relationship, especially if he’s going to work for me. Sure, I wish I could take some of the things I said back. Sure, I-.” Sure, I’d love to see if the rest of him is as delicious bare as his chest is.

The final thought slammed through her, and she cleared her throat before she could voice it out loud. “The point is, not only did I say some stuff out of line, but so did he and-.”

“And he came and apologized.” Feyre said, looking at her as she refilled her wine glass. “Can you say the same?”

Yes, she should apologize, but she really, really didn’t want to. “Apologizing has never been a strength of mine,” she muttered.

Neither sister said a word.

Nesta groaned, again. “I don’t know-.”

“Bring him a beer,” Feyre suggested, taking a sip from her wine glass. “Beer is his love language. Oh, or whiskey. Yeah. Do that if you’ve got it. A nice bottle of whiskey goes a long way with that one. But do that later, you’ve got the beer now.”

“I can’t-.”

“Come,” Elain said, pulling on Nesta’s hand, dragging her toward the backdoor.

“I can’t!” she yelled, trying to pull her hand away.

Elain rolled her eyes, but now Feyre was standing in front of the backdoor, arms crossed.

“Cassian is one of our closest friends, we can’t have the two of you bringing that shit into our circle,” Feyre grinned. “Lainy, fix her boobs.”

“My wh- Elain!” Nesta cried, as Elain fixed her bra so that her breasts were pushed up, peeking out from her tank top.

“What?” Feyre blinked. “Beer and boobs. Two things you’ll have that Cassian can’t stay mad at.”

“I’m not going out there,” Nesta protested.

“Yes, you are,” Elain went on, hands on her hips. “And you’re going to apologize, because you want to, and because you should. And, because we want you back in our lives, Nesta...and Cassian is a big part of our lives. He’s a good man. Things need to be set straight, and made right.”

Feyre held up a can of beer from the fridge, where she was slowly walking back from. “The beer of peace.”

Nesta decided that Feyre was a little tipsy if she was being this nice, no matter how much progress they had made that evening. Either that, or she knew Nesta apologizing would be a disaster and she wanted to watch the show. 

“This is a conversation the two of us need to have by ourselves, I’ll stop by his cabin later-.”

“No, I don’t trust that one bit,” Elain said. “I won’t believe it if I’m not here to witness.”

“I’m the oldest,” Nesta snapped. “I don’t need you two treating me like a fucking child!”

Feyre just grinned wider as Elain looked at her older sister with big, pleading eyes. 

“Fine,” Nesta said, the word clipped. “But if I make things worse, I’m coming in here to kick both of your asses.” 

“Oh, we’ll be waiting,” Feyre assured her, although Nesta didn’t feel reassurance, whatsoever.

She snatched the beer out of Feyre’s hand, half tempted to shake up the can as she walked out towards the round pen he'd headed for when left. As she approached the half open gate, she glanced down at her chest, and toward the vast expanse of skin, ink and back muscles in front of her as Cassian brushed down one of the horses.

She set the can down on top of one of the fence posts, and listening to Elain and Fayre’s advice, adjusted her bra, lifting her breasts until they were damn near falling out of her top.

She wanted to fix them, to stuff them back down into her tank top, put on a hoodie, go back to the house and crawl in her bed. But even without turning around, she knew that both of her nosy, couldn’t stay in their own business sisters were currently staring out the window at her. And Cassian had noticed her and was heading this way.

Nesta picked up the beer and cleared her throat, stepping through the gate and into the pen.

His boots kicked up the dirt of the pen as he walked towards her, stopping just a few feet away, and Nesta did her best not to watch the bead of sweat that ran between his pecs and towards his abdomen.

She held out the beer. “This is for you.”

Cassian blinked. “Is it cold?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Does it matter?”

He huffed a laugh, although it didn’t meet his eyes. He walked closer to her, then, and took the can from her outstretched hand, just as Nesta leaned into the railing.

As he popped the can open, his eyes had stopped on her overly-exposed breasts. They lingered, for a second too long, before he brought the can to his lips. 

“Thanks,” he said, after a minute.

He turned to walk away but Nesta blurted, “Do you need a hand?”

Cassian froze, one thick eyebrow raised. He slowly looked down at her feet. “You’re barefoot.”

She hadn’t had a second to put on her shoes before her sisters pushed her out the door.

Nesta shrugged. “Daisy’s calm enough.” She looked at the nearly all-white mare that Cassian was brushing. “I’ll be careful not to step in shit.”

Cassian chugged the rest of the can and set it back on the post before saying, “Why are you out here, Nesta? Have I done something else to make you disapprove of me?”

She rolled her eyes, frustration filling her. “I don’t even know why I came out here.” She turned to go back into the house.

“So you run?” Cassian asked, the volume of his voice raising slightly. “When something happens that you don’t like or you can’t control, you run.” Nesta paused where she’d been taking a step to go back to the house. The window where there’d been two nosy heads moments earlier was blessedly empty now. “Apparently you’re real good at it. This is the first time I’ve gotten to see it, you know, since you snuck out while my back was turned last time. But it seems to be your go to.”

Nesta had turned back to him, not speaking, just letting him get whatever this was off of his chest.

“What are you going to do when you decide you want to run from the ranch again, Nesta? Huh? Cause you’re coming out here, offering your help, tits out, no shoes, but I don’t even think you know the first thing about this place. What are you going to do when you have to help me bury a still born calf at four in the morning? What about when we have another year where we have to burn the entire field of crops?”

He grabbed the beer can and threw it across the pen. It bounced off the wooden fence with a ping!

“I’ve run this ranch on my own for the past four years. If you’re going to up and run out on me one day, I need you to go ahead and tell me now so I can decide whether or not this is the future for me.”

Nesta hesitated for a moment, unaware he was going to blow up on her like that. Although, she shouldn’t have been surprised. And she shouldn’t blame him. “And if I’m not?” 

Now it was Cassian’s turn to hesitate. “If you’re not what?”

“Going to leave,” she said, simply, chin raised. “Because I’m not leaving. My dad… Well, he left me this place and I intend to do my best to ensure that his legacy lives on. So, no, you giant ass, I’m not leaving. And, you’re right, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never been iinterested in ranching, and now that I own this shithole, I suppose I should, shouldn’t I?”

Cassian was watching her, perfectly still, as the the words poured out of her.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she continued, shaking her head, but she wasn’t looking at Cassian, not anymore. “I have no idea what I’m fucking doing!”

She knitted her fingers into her hair and leaned forward, groaning as she did. “I’m in so far above my head that it’s not even funny.”

Cassian stood there, watching as this woman who’d done nothing but plague his thoughts, day and night, proceeded to break down inside the round pen.

He didn’t know what to do. Whether he should leave her be or step forward and comfort her.

This strong, beautiful woman, who was more frustrating than any horse he’d tried to break and more confusing than them either.

He took a tentative step forward. “Look, we-,” he paused and scratched at the back of his neck. “Nesta, we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s- Can we start over? We’ll forget my stupidity and the other night and the times where you were a bit of a bitch…”

He looked at her to gauge her reaction to his joke. When her head snapped up and he saw a spark in those stormy eyes, he knew he’d struck home.

“When I was a bit of a bitch?” She laughed. “What about when you were a complete and utter dick?”

“I was going to leave that part out of my argument,” he murmured, but he was grinning, because the second she laughed, he couldn’t help himself. “You’re right. I was a dick, and I’m sorry.”

“I am, too,” she said, quietly, a small smile lingering on her mouth. “What I said out of anger and embarrassment….well, I said a lot that I shouldn’t have, and didn’t mean. I know you love this job, Cassian, and you’ve made a home here. I wouldn’t take that away from you. You know, unless you really piss me off.”

Cassian laughed, quietly, looking down at his boots. “Fair enough.” 

Nesta nodded, slowly, then looked back over her shoulder, where Elain and Feyre were once again watching through the kitchen window. She scowled.

Cassian noticed, too, once he looked back up, because he shook his head and laughed. “Alright, city girl,” he began, handing her a brush. “You wanna help? If your sisters are watching, at least give them a show.” 

She grabbed the brush from his outstretched hand and took a step toward Daisy, but Cassian was laughing, quietly, as he watched.

She froze. “What?”

Cassian just shook his head. “We’re going to have to get you some boots.”

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #toab tacmc collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian

[snelbz]

The Ranch {4}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @tacmc x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

Cassian rode until the sun had gone down, and after he had everything put away and Daisy was in her stall to rest for the night, he was crashing into his cabin, still filled with frustration and anger. Beau jumped off the recliner and met Cassian by the door, tail wagging. 

After kicking off his muddy boots, Cassian grabbed the bottle of bourbon out of his fridge and slumped down into his recliner before putting the cool bottle to his lips. 

As he was out riding Daisy, he felt guilty, at first, for the things he had said to Nesta in the kitchen. He hadn’t been fair, and he knew it. He was pissed, and felt stupid for the entire ordeal, and as usual, he had let out those feelings by way of smartass comments in hopes to get a rise out of her.

It had worked, of course, but a little too well. She had threatened to fire him. He, who had dedicated almost a decade to this ranch, who had put his heart and soul into everything he had done over the last eight years. He loved working the ranch, and she wanted to fire him? Why? Because what they had done was inappropriate.

It was utter bullshit. 

They were both there that night, and she had wanted it every bit as much as he had. He remembered the fire, the longing, in her eyes, the soft whimpers escaping her lips as his tongue explored her body. He hadn’t imagined it. She wanted him, all of him, but then she left.

Inappropriate.

The word rang through him, repeated in his mind, like a fucking joke.

He grabbed his phone and called Azriel. It rang three times before his brother answered with a breathless, “Hello?”

Cassian gave a quick glance to the clock on the microwave, seeing it was 9:58 on a Saturday night. The one night that both Elain and Azriel are off work and together. And have given their families strict instructions not to call unless it was an emergency.

“Shit, fuck, it’s Saturday, y’all are- well, you know I know what you were doing, but I don’t want to say it because then I’ll think about it and-.”

“Cassian,” Azriel laughed, cutting him off. “I’m at the gym.” He laughed again as he heard Cass breath a sigh of relief, but explained before he could ask. “They needed El to work a double in the NICU today so she gets tomorrow off. So maybe don’t call tomorrow, yeah?”

He cleared his throat and scratched at the back of his neck. “Right, sorry about that. This would have been real awkward.”

Az snorted on the other end of the phone and the telltale echo Cass could hear in the background told him he’d made his way into the locker room. “Less awkward than that time you took a buckle bunny back to the room in Houston, didn’t tell me or Rhys, and we walked in right when you were about to-.”

“Okay, yes, less awkward than that,” Cass mumbled, all by himself, but still feeling the tips of his ears burn.

He could hear Azriel’s deep laughter on the other end of the phone and when he returned the phone to his ear, he asked, “So what’s got you so out of sorts that you called me on a Saturday night?”

Cassian debated on giving him a little bit of back story, but he’d seen how they were last night. Maybe Az could try and give him a little insight, since he had successfully figured out one of the Archeron sisters.

“I almost fucked Nesta last night.” There was absolute silence on the other end. Cassian pulled the phone from his ear to make sure he hadn't dropped the call somehow. “Az?”

“Rhys and I will be over in twenty.”

The line went dead and Cassian sighed, looking over at Beau. The pup ran over and licked Cassian’s outstretched hand as he said in a singsong voice, “Dad’s in trouble…”

Beau barked as if to say, Trust me, I know. And the pup’s following grin said, And I can’t wait to watch you get your ass handed to you.

Cassian sighed as he fell back in his recliner and waited - waited for his brothers to come give him hell.

Maybe he deserved hell.

He didn’t know.

He took another gulp from the bottle. 

Beau jumped up on Cassian’s lap and Cassian let out a long string of curses as he almost spilled his bourbon. Beau was a massive puppy and didn’t understand that he wasn’t a lap dog anymore. Cass didn’t have the heart to tell him either.

Beau was still sprawled across Cassian’s lap, getting his belly rubbed, twenty minutes later, when the cabin door was thrown open.

Azriel was still dressed in his sweaty gym clothes. Cassian assumed he had stopped by to pick up Rhys on the way, who was wearing old sweatpants and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. 

Beau hopped off Cassian, at last, to greet his uncles as Rhysand said, “Feyre says fuck you.”

Cassian blinked. “Wh- you told her?”

Rhysand shrugged, shutting the front door. “I had to let her know where I was going.”

Cassian groaned. “Couldn’t have said you were just coming over for a drink?”

Azriel chuckled as Rhysand said, “I could’ve, but then I couldn’t watch her kick your ass the next time she sees you.”

Cass leaned back in the recliner, covering his face with his hands. The words were muffled as he said, “She would have figured out a reason to anyways, she always does.”

He heard the couch next to him groan as one of his brothers sat down, but Rhys’ voice came from the kitchen when she replied. “Yeah, but now I don’t have to get my ass kicked when she finds out that I knew, and didn’t tell her.”

Cass moved his hands away to see Azriel shaking his head as he threw his sweaty tennis shoes across the room. Beau immediately chased them to the corner, but a whistle from Cassian had him begrudgingly trotting back to his place on the floor in front of the recliner. He flopped down with a huff.

Azriel, deciding to no longer beat around the bush, asked, “Dude, what the hell? You said you two couldn’t even be in the same room without wanting to scream at each other when you called me the day before yesterday.”

Cassian leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t know, I just- she just gets under my skin.”

“She’s Nesta Archeron,” Rhysand announced, finally appearing from the small kitchen. There was a bottle of cheap whiskey in one hand and three glasses in the other. “The Cauldron made her with the sole purpose of getting under people’s skin.”

“Rhys,” Azriel warned.

He placed the contents on the small table between the couch and recliner and held up his hands in surrender. “Now, Cassian, because you’ve chosen to make yet another stupid decision, and because the three of us chose to make that stupid pact at seventeen-years-old, we’re here to be miserable with you.” He cracked the seal and put the plastic bottle of liquor to his lips, the burn of the alcohol damn near painful. He handed the bottle to Cass and he blew out a harsh breath and shook his head.

He happily took it and chugged much more than most humans typically would. When he put the bottle down and opened his eyes, Azriel and Rhysand were watching him.

Azriel let out a low whistle. “You’re in worse shape than I thought.”

“I talked to her about it this afternoon, too,” Cassian said, head already feeling light. “It didn’t go well.”

“Did you….expect it to?” Rhysand asked, brows raised as they passed around the bottle.

Cassian didn’t reply. He didn’t have a good answer. Yes, he had, but he wasn’t sure why.

“Well,” Azriel went on, clearing his throat. “We’re here to take your mind off of it.”

“Drink,” Rhysand said, handing the bottle to Cassian, once more. He did, but not quite as deeply as the first. “And start at the beginning.”

Cassian handed the bottle back to him. “You both may want to start drinking, too,” he said, closing his eyes and reclining back in the chair.

Rhys did as he was told, but Azriel asked, “And why’s that?”

“Because it all started with me walking into the kitchen in the main house to find her perky, little ass up in the air, in the tightest pair of jeans shorts I've ever seen, and ended with her legs wrapped around my waist and her tits in my mouth, against that wall.” Cassian gestured towards the doorway, eyes still closed.

He heard two more heavy swallows.

“I assume something happened between those two moments,” Azriel muttered. 

Cassian kept his eyes closed as he said, “I blame the alcohol.”

“Bullshit,” Rhysand said, the couch creaking as he shifted his weight. “Your alcohol tolerance is impressive, to say the least.” 

“We did run into each other, literally, after our shower yesterday afternoon,” Cassian muttered. “That didn’t help.”

A pause, then Azriel said, “Our? As in...together?”

Cassian opened his eyes just to roll them. “No. She was getting ready in the main house, too, I didn’t know.”

Rhysand gave him a knowing look.

“I didn’t know,” Cassian repeated, words clipped. 

“Alright, alright,” Rhysand mumbled, laughing quietly as he took the bottle from Azriel. “Not to mention that you drove her to and from the bar last night.”

“We came back here, I invited her in,” he went on, taking the bottle from Rhysand and fiddling with the label. “We drank a little, got to know each other a little… She wanted it.”

“You think every woman wants to fuck you,” Rhysand said, as Cassian took a sip of whiskey.

He leaned forward, setting the bottle on the side table and rested his knees on his hands. “Yeah, well, when you’re playing Twenty Questions, and someone says ‘If given the chance, would you fuck me’, what the hell would you think?”

They were both quiet.

“She...asked you that?” Azriel asked, reaching across Rhys for the bottle.

“Swear on my mother’s grave.” Cassian stood up and began pacing in front of the television. “Gods, I tried to fucking not, too. I took the drink instead of answering the question and then I left her out here.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling it free from the tie it’d been in all day. “I went back into my room and I was going to let her leave and give her some bullshit story about getting sick or something this morning whenever I saw her.” He paused and looked over at that empty recliner, looked at where she’d been sitting just a night ago. “But then I thought, what if I don’t get this chance again? This woman, she’s all that I’ve thought about for the last three days and I just…”

Cassian trailed off and Azriel, without looking away from his brother, nudged Rhys’ arm. “I think we might need that second bottle you left out in the truck.”

“Yeah,” Rhysand said, blinking, before hauling ass out of the cabin. He came back a minute later, with an unopened bottle, as Cassian continued to pace in his little living room.

“Okay,” Rhysand said, settling back into the couch and twisting open the bottle. “Continue.”

Cassian sighed, running a hand, frustratingly, through his hair. “It got a little out of control, for a while...things were getting heated….really fucking heated. Then, she heard my phone vibrate, thanks to you assholes, and I wasn’t going to get it, because, obviously, my phone was the last thing on my mind, but then she kept telling me to answer the fucking phone, so I did.” The words rushed out of him, and as he took another step, he swayed, then cursed. “I looked at the texts, quickly, then when I looked over my shoulder, the front door was open and she was gone.”

“Shit,” Azriel muttered, Rhysand nodded. “She didn’t say anything?”

Cass scooped the near empty bottle from the table and slumped back into the chair. Beau sat up and rested his head on Cassian’s knee. He scratched behind his ear and shook his head, putting his lips to the bottle. He drained the rest of it.

“Should I offer you this before I ask how this morning went?” Rhys asked, extending his hand.

Cassian again shook his head, but stood up and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a few bottled waters. Didn’t matter if he got shitfaced drunk tonight, he’d still have to be up with the sun to start his day. He sat back down and handed the other two bottles to his brothers.

“It wasn’t this morning, it was about, oh,” he glanced at the clock again. “Three hours ago, give or take.” He took a swig from the cool bottle and set it down. “I gave her space, all day, so she could come up with whatever excuse she wanted, and then when I finally run into her, she’s in this extravagant fucking kitchen, cooking the most delicious looking damn steak I’ve ever seen, and the sun was lighting up her eyes and…” Cass reached for the whiskey again. “She said, it was inappropriate.”

“So she apologized?” Azriel asked, clearly confused.

“Fuck, no, us, what we did, that was inappropriate.” Cassian sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “She says since she’s ‘technically my boss’, we can’t.”

A look of understanding passed between them both.

“What?” Cass asked, noticing the two of them.

“Absolutely not,” was all Azriel said, when Rhys turned to look at him.

Rhys said, “If he’s getting into this thing, he needs to-.”

“Okay, but he’s clearly not getting into it, since Nesta shut him down. I don’t know about you, but I like my balls being-.”

“Oh, shut up, you aren’t even engaged yet, you think you’ll have it bad?”

“Hey!” Cassian said, loudly. They both looked at him. “Someone wanna tell me what the hell you’re talking about?”

Rhysand looked at Azriel. “You brought it up.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbled under his breath, but sighed and looked at Cass. “You didn’t hear this from us and if Elain or Feyre ask, you sure as shit didn’t hear this from us.” Cassian, eyebrows raised, nodded. Azriel looked at Rhys one more time and when he gestured for him to go on, Az sighed. “Nesta nearly got kicked out of the most prestigious culinary institute in France for having an affair with her instructor.”

Cassian stilled.

No one said a word as Cassian stared at Azriel. Even Beau could sense the tension, as he whined quietly, breaking the silence. 

“Sorry, what?” Cassian asked, at last. 

“Happened a few years ago, at the end of her final semester,” Azriel continued, slowly, cautiously. “She was of age, of course, and he was in his late-twenties. She was in love with him, apparently, but when the board found out...well, it didn’t go well. She had to beg and plead to be allowed to finish school and receive her diploma, and she obviously broke it off with the guy, too. And, considering you are technically under her employment…”

Cassian opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. It suddenly all made sense - at least, it made more sense than it had hours before. 

And he had been a complete dick to her, then. 

“Fuck,” Rhysand breathed, “you look like you’re about to puke.”

Azriel slowly rose to his feet and hurried into the kitchen. He came back to the living room with the garbage can, and tentatively set it down in front of Cassian. 

Who still wasn’t saying a word.

“Dude, do you think you should-.”

The sound of retching is all that could be heard in the small cabin.

“Oh shit!” Rhys cried, jumping back into the seat Azriel had just vacated as Cassian emptied the contents of his stomach into the trash can.

He coughed, bracing his hands on the edges of the can. “I’m a piece of shit.”

Rhys mumbled, “Well…”

“Rhys, shut the fuck up.” Azriel said, and handed Cass his water bottle. “Cass, you’re not a piece of shit.”

He groaned, and fell down to the floor as he opened the water bottle and took slow sips.

He should go apologize to Nesta.

But he also knew he had no right to do so. Even if he tried, she probably wouldn’t give him the time of day. 

And he didn’t blame her.

His head was pounding, his stomaching rolling. He closed his eyes and put his face into his hands. 

“I need to go to bed,” he muttered, talking into his hands.

Azriel whistled for Beau, who was instantly by his side. He then walked to the front door and let the pup out for his last potty break of the night. 

“Go get cleaned up. I’ll let Beau in and lock the door behind us.” Azriel leaned beside the wall next to the door and smiled.

Cassian nodded and stood, stumbling back toward the bathroom. He flipped Rhys off as he went.

The second he flipped on the bathroom light he cringed. His eyes were glazed, his eyelids heavy. After grabbing a rag and drenching it in water, he wiped off his face then brushed his teeth. As soon as he walked out into the hall and into his bedroom, he was falling into his bed. He could hear Beau running through the living room, his tail was wagging as he jumped up next to Cassian on his mattress.

Azriel was scolding Rhysand as they walked out. The last thing Cassian heard him say before they shut the front door was, Way to be a prick, dickwad. 

Once Cassian was left alone in the silence, though, his guilt only worsened.

He laid there, listening to his ceiling fan rotate and running his hand down Beau’s belly, and he groaned.

He should text her, tell her that he was sorry for being a dick and-.

He didn’t even have her fucking number.

For a split second, he considered going to her house, apologizing, kissing her, he hadn’t decided yet. But then he realized what a stupid idea that was, and likely to get him fired.

So he laid there, room spinning around him as fast as the fan above him, and waited for the sunrise.

#the ranch nessian #shara collab #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #nessian #theranchnessian #nesta archeron #cassian

[snelbz]

Shot to the Heart {Rowaelin AU Fluff}

Tag Team with @tacmc aka the BDavis to myPSawyer.

Once a month, everyone took a night to spend time together, outside of a bar, and just have fun. Oftentimes, that meant a game night at someone’s house, a nice dinner or ice skating, in the winter. But sometimes, they liked to get out and do more fun things. They’d been zip lining, kayaking, played putt putt, you name it. There were times where things got a little competitive between them all, especially when they decided to compete between the sexes.

They were still banned from the Strike & Spare from the last boys and girls night.

So when it was Elide and Lorcan’s turn to choose, they decided to do something a little more conducive to their violent behavior.

“Where exactly are we going?” Aelin asked as she climbed into Rowan’s truck.

He glanced at his watch. “No clue, Lorcan just said to meet at Rita’s at eight.”

“That’s dangerous,” Aelin muttered, but her grin told him that she approved.

He pulled onto the road and began their drive, only the radio playing in the background. He kept trying not to stare, even though she looked beautiful and he wanted to tell her as much. They’d been best friends for years, always teasing that fine line between best friends and so much more.

Their friends constantly teased them about it, as they all began to settle down one by one.

You already spend as much time together as a couple does.

They’d always had reasons not to though. In high school, there was Sam and Lyria, though the four of them were always together. Makes sense that they ended up together, after they both went away to Fennharrow for college. Rowan and Aelin couldn’t be happier for them. The break ups had been amicable and they were going to Fennharrow together for their wedding next Spring.

In college, Aelin had met Chaol and Rowan had Remelle. Chaol was a permanent figure for a while, but Remelle was more of a time to time thing. They’d both been single for a while, but nothing had ever happened. There were many glances and accidental brushes between them, more so when the two of them had a movie night.

Then, the next time they saw one another, they pretended like nothing had happened.

Rowan didn’t mind it, though. He preferred to have Aelin as a best friend then not have her at all. Even if he did make a move one day, he didn’t know how she would take it.

When Rowan pulled into Rita’s, the others were already there, on the patio, drinks on their hands. Aelin was out before he was, hurrying over to throw her arms around Lysandra and Elide. Rowan watched her before grabbing his wallet, his phone, and his keys and joining them there.

Lorcan was watching him suspiciously.

He sat next to him, motioning to their regular server for his regular drink. He looked over and found Lorcan still looking at him.

“What?” He asked.

Lorcan raises his beer to his lips. “This a date?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “No, I offered to drive her because it was on the way and she can’t hold her liquor.”

The two looked up and found the trio of girls tossing back a shot of amber liquid.

Lorcan took his drink, setting the bottle on the table top and crossing his ankle over his knee. “It’s reasonable, as far as your excuses go. Both are valid and make sense.”

Two dark bottles appeared in front of them and their server slipped away like she’d never been there.

“It’s not an excuse,” Rowan muttered, taking a sip from his glass. “It’s a fact.”

“Whatever you say,” Lorcan mumbled, but it was blatantly obvious that he thought Rowan was full of shit. “But when you two get married, Elide has called Maid of Honor.”

It took everything in Rowan’s power not to roll his eyes. “Don’t you two have anything better to talk about when you’re alone?”

“We’ve been together for five years,” Lorcan said, as if it was an appropriate answer. “So...no. We talk about bills, who’s going to do the dishes, and when the hell the two of you are going to fuck.”

Rowan choked on his drink.

“I never thought I’d have to ask this, but please don’t discuss my sex life with your fiancée.”

“Excuse you?”

Rowan and Lorcan looked up and found Elide and Aelin standing at the end of the table.

Rowan stammered but Lorcan laughed quietly.

“Okay,” Aelin said, awkwardly, “Is everyone here?”

Elide sat down next to Lorcan and said, “Fenrys, Asterin, and Manon are meeting us at the...place. Dorian is already there.”

“So, that’s a yes?” Aelin laughed.

“That’s a yes,” Elide confirmed, snuggling up close to Lorcan’s massive frame. “So, let’s get tipsy and go get banned from yet another family-friendly establishment.”

Lorcan snorted and raised his glass.

Rowan raised his glass to Aelin’s and met it with a clink.

“Our friends are ridiculous,” Aelin said, underneath her breath.

“Sometimes I wonder why I keep coming back,” Rowan replied, before chugging half his glass and setting it down on the table. When he met her humored gaze, he was reminded exactly why he kept coming back.

They finished their drinks and Rowan and Aelin packed themselves back up into Rowan’s truck so that they could follow Lorcan and Elide to the surprise location. Aedion and Lysandra stayed to order food and would join them shortly.

“So what conversation did I walk in on back there?” Aelin asked once they were on the way.

Rowan cleared his throat and said, “What conversation?”

Without even looking, he knew she had an eyebrow raised. “Really, Rowan. The conversation about your sex life.”

“Just Lorcan being an asshole,” he said, trying to wave her off the conversation.

Aelin was looking at him, and he was trying so hard not to look back

“I have no sex life,” Rowan blurted, after her silence had gone on a few seconds too long. “Not that I’ve never had sex, or don’t have opportunities to...Gods. Nevermind.”

Aelin was laughing quietly. “Holy shit, you’re flustered.”

“No, I’m not,” he said, gripping the wheel a little bit tighter. “I’m just...very personal.”

“Even with me?” She asked, humored.

Especially with you, he thought. Instead, he said, “Yes.”

Her grin only widened. “When’s the last time you got laid, Ro?”

His cheeks were on fire. His ears were on fire. The back of his neck was on fire. Everything was on fire. He cleared his throat again. “That’s none of your business.”

“Just tell me if it was recent or not,” she turned in her seatbelt to face him.

“No,” he laughed. “I’m not telling you that.”

Aelin said, “Why not, we tell each other everything. I’ll tell you.”

“Please, please don’t,” he blurted.

She lifted a brow, then began to nod, slowly, recognition showing in her eyes. Rowan suddenly felt like an idiot, but then Aelin said, quietly, “It’s been a long ass time, if that makes you feel any better.”

“I don’t- it doesn’t-.” His words broke off as he sighed, and Aelin laughed quietly. “You go get some if you wanna get some… I just…don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.”

“How very kind of you,” Aelin crooned, but he was sure he ruined it all now, was certain she knew that he was full of bullshit.

“As your best friend, that’s my job,” Rowan said, trying to make himself sound convincing.

As he pulled up to a red light, she leaned over and patted his cheek. “And you’ve done a wonderful job.”

Unable to stop himself, he turned and pressed his lips to her palm, locking eyes with her. It was the ballsiest thing he’d ever done and he felt hot and cold all over as he waited for her to react. She swallowed hard, tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip and-.

A horn honked behind them, as the light had been green for longer than two seconds, and Rowan turned his head forward as quickly as Aelin withdrew her arm back to her own side of the cab. He hit the gas and they took off, and Aelin flipped the bird behind them.

“Ace,” he laughed, “you can’t do that. He had every right to honk at me.”

She crossed her arms and sat up a little higher. “Yeah, well he didn’t have to lay on his horn like an asshole. A simple beep beep would have sufficed. Stupid, impatient fucker.”

The truck got quiet for a second and then they both dissolved into laughter, the tension from the moment before fading into near obscurity.

Two minutes later they followed Lorcan’s car into the parking lot of a laser tag facility, and Rowan swore under his breath.

Aelin laughed. “What? You don’t like laser tag?”

“The last time I played laser tag, I was twelve and ate too much shitty pizza,” he muttered, parking and turning off the engine. “Let’s just say they had to stop the game, turn the lights on, and call for the janitor to come in with a mop.”

“Aw,” Aelin said, her grin suggesting that she felt no pity. “Well, it’s a decade later, and you’ve had no shitty pizza. So, get out and let me kick your ass.”

Before Rowan could reply, she was out of the truck and closing the door behind her.

He groaned and laughed quietly as he had a feeling he was in for a hell of a night.

He got out of the truck and slipped his hands in his pockets as he walked over to where everyone was grouping up.

“I want to be up front and say that I feel like the girls cheated,” Rowan said to Lorcan as he leaned against the rail next to him.

“And why is that?” Elide asked, outrage written across her face.

“Because every single one of you are wearing black.” Lorcan tossed a pointed glance at his fiancée.

Elide held up her hands. “I said nothing.”

Manon’s man-eating grin said otherwise.

Rowan looked down at his light gray t-shirt. At least it wouldn’t glow when they got inside, unlike Dorian’s pure white v-neck.

“If Aedion and Lys don’t get here soon, we’re starting without them,” Manon announced, already growing impatient.

“Agreed,” Lorcan said.

They waited thirty more seconds before the impatience grew unbearable, then their group of eight was walking in.

Girls vs. boys.

Rowan was unprepared. He needed another drink.

Thankfully, it seemed Lorcan was in agreement because the first place he went was to the snack bar and ordered two pitchers of beer. Rowan reached for one of the glasses but Lorcan pulled them back.

“Nope, these are part of the game.”

Rowan raised an eyebrow as Elide began to explain the rules.

For the most part, it was the regular run of the laser tag - hit your opponents’ targets with your point-and-shoot laser pointer and get the most points for your team. There was one caveat though.

“Both pitchers have to be empty by the end of the round,” Lorcan announced. “If your team doesn’t finish your pitcher, you automatically lose.”

“It doesn’t have to be drunk equally. If Aelin doesn’t feel like drinking,” Lorcan mumbled Like that would ever happen, and Aelin glared at him, “she doesn’t have to drink. Just as long as its empty at the end.”

They all voiced their agreement, put on their vests and gathered their guns, then they were tossed into the room.

Rowan was met with darkness and neon, glowing lights as he hurried into a tower. It was his go to. Get to the highest point, and see everyone. Then he paused, as he noticed a lock of his hair falling down in front of his face.

He had silver hair, in a room full of blacklights.

He was instantly a target.

After cursing his hair, he was on the move. He spotted Manon from the other side of the room, took aim, and hit her target.

She yelled a curse at him before he was moving, once more.

He headed for the predetermined boys base, and filled a cup with beer. It seemed he was the first to do so, but Fenrys soon jogged up, muttering about how it was unfair for a marksman like Manon to even be playing this game. His chest target was lit up red and he had a good ten seconds left before he could get back in the game. He saw Rowan and said, “That your first?”

He nodded and began drinking. “Drink two every time we stop?”

Fen nodded. “Quickest way to kill it.”

They both took a minute to chug before Rowan asked, “Seen Aelin?”

Fenrys shook his head. “She’s got a good spot, I’m sure. She has the mind for these things. Strategic.”

Rowan agreed. She was that.

After setting his plastic cup down, Rowan was back on the move.

He crept around a few different corners before he caught sight of her golden ponytail. He followed her, slowly, fully aware that he didn’t have the same graceful, quiet movements that she did. He knew there was straightaway up ahead and if he could stay back long enough, he could get a clean shot on her as she fled to the other side.

He crept along the final corner, pausing to peek behind him-.

He felt a hand on his chest and looked back to find Aelin gazing up at him. He didn’t even fumble for his gun as she pushed slightly and he backed up a few steps. His back hit the wall with a quiet thump and Aelin said, quietly, “Would you like to do what you did in the truck one more time?”

He hesitated, unsure if he was understanding her correctly. She took his bewildered look as acceptance, though, because her smile softened as she leaned up on her toes and pulled his face closer to hers with her hand on the back of his head.

Their lips met softly in the middle, once, twice, slowly, gently.

She tasted bitterly sweet, her peach chapstick mixed with the tequila shots she had earlier and the beer she was downing now. Rowan wanted the moment to last forever, but it was soon broken as Aelin leaned back, her eyes bright.

He smiled and leaned down, wanting to capture her lips against his one more time, closing his eyes.

There was a loud buzzing and then his best began to vibrate. His eyes shot open and Aelin was running away, a devilish glint in her eyes.

He blinked, watching her run away.

She had shot him.

She had kissed him.

Then she had shot him.

He stood, completely frozen, utterly dumbfounded.

Lorcan came around the corner, saw that he’d been shot, and shook his head. “You suck at this, Whitethorn.”

Rowan couldn’t even remember how to form words for a sarcastic reply. Instead, he just turned and walked back toward the pitcher of beer, where he downed two more glasses before deciding to hunt Aelin down as the alcohol warmed his body.

He knew the girls couldn’t be as close to finishing as they were, especially seeing Dorian heading back to their base with maybe one full cup and a half left in their pitcher. Rowan successfully snuck around to where the girls had named their base and found a perfect wall to crouch behind and lie in wait. The pitcher was directly in his line of sight, and it was still over half full.

Elide ran right past his hiding place without noticing him and he knew he could get a free shot out of it, but he’d give away his position. So he waited and he bided his time.

Rowan had just begun scoping out the alley behind his when a flash of white to his left distracted him. Manon ran by putting the pitcher directly to her lips and drinking. His eyebrows raised as she took down a sizable amount of their beer at once, but Aelin appeared beside her. They spoke animatedly and Aelin laughed as Manon ran back down the middle lane, hunting for another victim.

Holding his breath, he threw the empty plastic cup he’d been holding down the empty alley beside him.

Aelin heard it immediately, turning and staring in his direction. He was obscured by the half wall and as soon as she crept by, her gun aimed down the alley, he reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist, pinning it - and her gun - to the wall.

Her eyes were bright with excitement and he couldn’t stop his gaze from dipping down and watching intently as she bit her bottom lip.

He didn’t know why his voice had dropped so low, why it sounded like he’d been gargling nails, but he leaned down by her ear and breathed, “Was that just so you could distract me?”

He was almost worried for her reply, but then she asked, “Is this just so you can distract me?”

He glanced down, not even realizing he’d been using his body to press her into the wall, hadn’t realized how close their faces had gotten.

He shook his head, slowly, the tip of his nose brushing hers ever so lightly.

Aelin sucked in a breath as she whispered, “Good.”

He kissed her then, much harder than she had kissed him. He slowly dropped her arms that were pinned to the wall, only so he could drop his gun and cup her face. Those delicate, steady arms of hers wrapped around his waist and she held his body close up against hers.

Aelin brushed her tongue along the seam of Rowan’s lips, asking permission, not just taking as she’d done before. But there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this woman, nothing he wouldn’t give to her if it was in his power. He opened for her and let his tongue brush against hers softly. She groaned quietly.

Rowan pulled back, catching his breath, and rested his forehead against hers. He took the moment to gaze at her in the darkness. She was the most beautiful damn thing he’d ever seen.

She breathed, “I’ve wanted to do that for a really, really long time.”

“Me too,” he whispered, laughing quietly. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear as he kissed her, once again, damning the game and forgetting about their friends.

For a moment, it was just the two of them, and that was all he cared about.

#tacmc toab tag team #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #toab tacmc collab #the shara tag #shara writes #rowaelin au #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #throne of glass

[snelbz]

Lovely {6}

@tacmc​ x @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty​ collaboration

A/N: Hello, you beautiful people. That’s right, it’s back. We love to see y’all’s reactions to our stories so please reblog and comment and let us know what you think! Enjoy!

FIND PREVIOUS CHAPTERS HERE

SHELBY’S ASK BOX // SHELBY’S MASTERLIST

TARA’S ASK BOX // TARA’S MASTERLIST

Azriel opened his eyes, enjoying the comfort of his bed. He assumed it was fairly early, considering only the faintest stream of sunlight had peeked through the curtains, and Asher wasn’t crying to be released from the confines of his crib yet. Until then, he would lay and relax.

There was a shift on the other side of the mattress and Azriel cursed himself, silently, for waking her; but, when he rolled onto his side, Elain was still fast asleep.

Her hair had come undone at some point in the night, and the brown curls were sprawled out across Azriel’s dark gray sheets. Her plump, pink lips were parted, her breathing even. His comforter laid just below her breasts, and it took a hefty amount of self control not to reach out and brush his fingers over her peeked nipples.

The night before had been incredible. They’d made love twice, and every other second was spent in drunk kisses and soft giggles. He took his time exploring her, and she with him, and he’d never experienced anything so wondrous and enthralling.

He was falling in love with her, and the thought was terrifying. It was one thing to like someone, to even like them a lot, but now he was falling, head over heels, at full speed. He had never fallen in love before, not like this.

He came with way more baggage than most men his age, and that was just the messy custody battle with Ianthe. He was dreading the conversation they’d have when she asked about his parents.

Draeven was not his father’s last name. No, he’d taken his mother’s maiden name as his own when the bastard was officially sentenced to prison. His name had never been formally released, always redacted in every story and news segment, so very few knew the truth, the notoriety of his childhood. He didn’t want to see the look of pity in her eyes when she found out.

He rolled over, pressing soft kisses to Elain’s shoulder, and just as she was starting to stir-.

A cry came from the baby monitor.

“Thanks, little dude,” Azriel groaned quietly as he pulled his discarded boxer-briefs on from the night before and hurried across the hall. Asher was sitting up in his crib, eyes wide as he gazed around the room. “Good morning,” he cooed, lifting his son from his crib and carrying him to the changing table. “We have a guest this morning, so we can’t be screaming this early, yeah?” Asher just chewed on the pacifier Azriel had popped in his mouth and stared up at his father while he put a fresh diaper on him. Azriel pressed a kiss to his belly and said, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

A cute onesie was a necessity and after getting Asher as adorable as possible, Azriel carried him back to his bedroom. Where he found the bed empty.

He glanced towards the bathroom, seeing the light was off and it was empty. Then he heard a noise from down in the kitchen. He crept down the stairs and found Elain in front of his coffee maker, his shirt skimming her thigh. He could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

On quiet feet, Azriel stepped up behind her and pressed a kiss to her neck. “Good morning, beautiful.”

She jumped as she spun around, and for a second Azriel thought that she might curse him for scaring her, but her eyes were on Asher’s. She took the giggling baby into her arms and said, in a perfect, high-pitched voice, “Good morning.”

Asher clapped his hands together, his toothless grin wide as Elain set him in his highchair. Azriel was already mixing his cereal together, which was a good thing, because Asher was obviously hangry. His angry little voice filled the air as he banged on his highchair tray.

“I know, I’m coming,” Azriel promised, grabbing a little spoon from the drawer and pulling a chair up in front of the highchair. After putting a bib around Asher’s neck, he was chowing down.

Before he could even ask, Elain had set a cup of coffee down in front of him. Azriel smiled as he put Asher’s spoon up to his little lips. Most of the cereal trailed down his chin.

“Thank you,” Azriel said, looking at Elain, who had sat on the opposite side of the table. “It’s going to be a coffee day. Someone kept me up all night.”

Her cheeks turned pink as she sipped from her mug. “Pretty sure it was the other way around.”

Azriel’s grin widened. “Fair enough, I’ll take the blame.”

Elain sucked in her bottom lip, and Azriel was just about to say something when Asher blew a raspberry and Azriel got splattered with cereal, all over his face and his chest.

He slowly set down the bowl and the spoon before looking at his giggling infant and saying, “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

Elain’s hands were covering her mouth as she laughed. “Go clean yourself, I’ll take over.”

Azriel couldn’t help but laugh at Asher’s joy, and as he stood up, he kissed Elain, softly, before she took her place in his chair and started to feed Asher.

Azriel had only just made it to the sink when there was a knock on the door. He blinked, then looked to the clock above the stove. It was only just after seven.

He wiped off his face, but when the knock came again, he was hurrying toward the door. After pulling on a pair of sweatpants that were hanging over the back of the couch, Azriel opened the door, and stilled.

Ianthe was there, in her jogging attire - which didn’t amount to much. When she saw Azriel, bare-chested and hair still a mess, a wide, feline grin spread across her lips. “Well, good morning, baby daddy.”

He gaped and finally said, “What are- Ianthe, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for my baby. Where is he?” She tried to peek around him into the house, but he angled the door where only his entryway could be seen.

“It’s seven in the morning. On a Saturday.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame, becoming a veritable wall blocking her view.

“Well, we have plans this morning and I have to get him ready,” she said, taking another step up his porch stairs.

Before he could say anything, Asher’s happy giggle could be heard echoing through the house. And then Elain’s voice was floating towards him. “That’s not very nice, Asher. You can’t spit your breakfast on daddy and on me. No, you can’t. No, sir.”

Azriel had tensed and when he turned back to Ianthe, she had an eyebrow raised and her eyes were like ice. “Who’s that, daddy?”

“None of your concern,” Azriel said back, his voice calm. “And I have him until tonight. I’ll drop him off at six, like we agreed on.”

“Plans changed,” she snapped. “Now get my baby away from the whore or I’ll go in there and grab him myself.”

Azriel’s jaw locked as he stepped out onto the porch and shut the door quietly behind him. “Watch your tongue.”

“Or what?” she asked, intrigued. “What will you do, Az? As of right now, you have to do what I say, legally, and I’m telling you to get your pretty little ass inside, grab my son, and bring him to me so we’re not late.”

Azriel didn’t move.

Ianthe took a step toward him. “Or it’ll be awhile before I let you have him again. Understand?”

Azriel crossed his arms. “I don’t like threats.”

“Too bad,” she said. “I have the power, and you’ve already pissed me off by letting my son around that skank. As you’ve said, it’s seven on a Saturday morning. Now, why would a woman be in your kitchen so early?”

“Oh, fuck off. How many men have you been with this week alone, Ianthe?” The words came out of his mouth before he could think better of it. He pressed on before she could bite back. “Nothing in our agreement stipulated that I wasn’t allowed to be in a relationship.”

“Consider it added now,” she said, a wicked smile on her face, pulling her phone from her leggings, the gods knew where there was room. She typed out a quick text message and Azriel stared at her, in absolute shock.

He breathed, “You vindictive bitch.”

She smiled up at him again and was about to say something else that was meant to wound him, but he gripped her wrist with far too much gentleness considering the conversation, and turned it over.

Because that crazed look in her eye, it wasn’t only delight at fucking him over once again. There was a reason she was so chipper at seven on a Saturday morning.

The words were deathly soft. “Are you using again?”

Her arm was jerked from his grip before he could react. “Get your hands off of me. That’s none of your fucking concern.”

Azriel chuckled, humorlessly, as he shook his head. “You’re not taking him. You’re on a high, and you’re not taking him.”

“Don’t fu-.”

“You didn’t even drive here,” Azriel began, exasperated, his hands shaking from the pure anger radiating throughout his body. He looked behind her to find the street nearly empty, her car nowhere in sight. “What was your plan? Jog him on your hip back to your parents house? Fuck, Ianthe-.”

“Give me Asher.”

“No,” Azriel said, firmly. “I’ll drop him off, at your parents, at six tonight, so that I know he’s safe. And that was our agreement.” He’d have a talk with them, too, Ianthe’s parents.

Because he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Asher go with Ianthe. Not if she was back on drugs, not again. He would fight it, and if he lost his parenting rights in the process…

No, he wouldn’t let himself think that way, wouldn’t let his mind wander to the horrid, unfair possibilities. The world couldn’t be that cruel.

Then again. As a child, himself, the world was that cruel.

Ianthe hadn’t said another word. She stared at Azriel, venom igniting those teal eyes.

“Go home, Ianthe,” Azriel warned.

There was a small list of things he had expected her to do in response, but spitting in his face wasn’t one of them. His body tensed as her saliva smacked him in the face, right between his eyes. But then she was walking back down the porch steps, all while saying, “You made a big mistake, Azriel.”

He didn’t move, not until she was down the street, jogging around the corner.

Azriel stepped back into the house, heading straight for the kitchen sink. He took a paper towel off of the holder and wiped Ianthe’s spit off of his face. When he turned around, he froze.

Elain was sitting in the same chair, still in his t-shirt, and Asher was asleep in her arms. She was watching Azriel, though, her eyes full of concern.

All he said was, “Did you give him his bottle?”

She nodded. “Burped him, too.”

His smile was tired, but he said, “Thank you.” He sighed and let his head fall. “Elain, there’s something I have to do today, but I don’t think I can do it alone.” He swallowed hard. He’d never once taken anyone with him to meet with Helion, nor had he ever wanted to. But today, he needed someone there to steady him, to keep him grounded.

Because he’d never been so angry in his entire life. He’d seen red and couldn’t allow himself to do so, but the fact that Ianthe had actually intended to take their child while she was…

Elain stood, cradling his son as if he were the most precious gift, and walked to him. She took his hand in her free one. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

___

Rhysand had given Feyre a cup of coffee, but she couldn’t drink it. All she could think about was Tamlin, still lying on her couch. All through the night, it was all she could think about. No, she and Rhys hadn’t had sex, and every time they got a little too hot and heavy, she pushed him away and looked toward the doorway of her bedroom, thinking that Tamlin would be standing right there.

But he hadn’t moved, all night, and now that morning had come, she wanted him out of her fucking house.

“Do you want me to wake him up?” Rhysand asked, for the tenth time since they’d rolled out of her bed.

Feyre didn’t answer. She had told Rhys no so far, thinking that if Rhysand was to wake him up, there would be an instant fist fight, and that was no way to start a Saturday morning. So, instead, although she was unsure how it was any better, Feyre went to the cabinet by the sink and opened it up, retrieving a glass. After filling it up with water, she walked to the back of the couch and dumped it on Tamlin’s face.

With a shuddering gasp, Tamlin was sitting up and looking around. “What the fuck?”

“Time to go,” Feyre said, setting the glass down on the side table, with a little more force than necessary. He flinched at the sound, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it.

He groaned as he leaned forward, water dripping from his hair.

She sighed and said, “Come on, Tam, I’m serious. I need you to leave.”

He narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say a word. He just stood and turned to leave, but when his eyes fell on Rhysand, he froze. “You always have to win.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, but he remained silent. Feyre stared at the floor as she listened to his heavy footsteps walk through the foyer, and out the front door.

For a moment, the small townhouse remained silent, but then Feyre looked up to meet his gaze. “What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know, Feyre-.”

“Bullshit!” she yelled, exasperated. She was annoyed, angry, and sleep-deprived. She didn’t have the time or patience to be dancing around the subject any longer. “I have to know what happened between you two, Rhys. I like you, I really do, a lot, but I can’t deal with secrets, not anymore.”

His lips snapped shut, and for a moment, she thought that he would tell her he didn’t want to, that he wasn’t in the mood, yet again, but then he sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

As if she wasn’t expecting it, which she truly wasn’t, her body stilled. Then, before he could change his mind, she was slowly sitting in the chair next to him at the kitchen table. She didn’t push him, didn’t rush him, only sat perfectly still, her anger turning into nerves. The possibilities of what he was about to say had her stomach churning.

He took a deep breath and said, “I’ve known Tamlin pretty much my whole life. We went to the same elementary school, played on the same teams, and we were… we used to be friends.”

Shit. Feyre had known there was history, but she didn’t know it went that far back.

Rhys continued, “I don’t exactly remember when we had our falling out, but Tamlin’s dad was always pushing to be better, by using me as an example. He’d talk to my dad at work, find out how I was doing in my classes, and then he’d go home and berate Tam about how much better of a son I was.”

Tam. The familiarity of the nickname made Feyre’s heart hurt.

“In short, somewhere in middle school, he started to hate me, and I understood it,” Rhysand continued, shrugging. “His dad was an asshole, and he had to have someone else to blame it on. Considering I was a part of the equation, it made sense that it was me.”

There was something sad, something regretful in Rhysand’s eye, but Feyre didn’t question it. She remained quiet, and she listened.

“Anyway, middle school went by and then high school began,” Rhysand went on, staring at his intertwined hands. “We didn’t talk much, only when we had to. We’d drifted into our own groups of friends, found our own places where we belonged, even though we still played on all the same sport teams yet. Anyway, that’s just kind of how it was between us, at least for a while. Things were tense, but they were never bad, you know?” He didn’t wait for Feyre to answer before he went on. At this point, it was like he was talking mostly to himself. “Our junior year, my parents were out one night, coming home with my little sister from a dance recital. They got in an accident, and none of them made it out alive. My parents died instantly, having gotten hit head on. And my sister, who was only thirteen at the time, was in a coma for two days before they made me make the decision to pull her off of life support.”

His voice had become a deadly quiet, and Feyre couldn’t breathe. Rhysand wasn’t looking at her, he was still staring at his hands. His eyes had lined with silver, those tears nearly about to fall, but he only cleared his throat.

“It, uh,” he started, then shook his head, sending those tears that had held themselves in down his tanned cheeks. “It was Tamlin’s dad that had hit them. He was drunk, behind the wheel, and swerved in his lane, going way too fast, hitting my parents and my sister.”

Every thought in Feyre’s mind faded away. She had never met Tamlin’s dad, and Tamlin wouldn’t talk about it, only told her that his dad was gone. She didn’t understand, not yet, but as Rhysand went on, all the pieces came together.

“He hated me after that, blamed the fact that his dad was in prison for life on me,” Rhysand said, a humorless laugh loud in the quiet of the townhouse. “And I hated him for that. I hated him for blaming that shit on me, just because he needed someone to blame it on.”

Feyre stood, rounding her table and taking his hands in hers. She knelt in front of him.

“Rhys, I’m so sorry.”

He smiled at her, it was sad, but it was a smile nonetheless. “You have nothing to apologize for. You had every right to ask, I just… It’s a part of my life that’s still painful to open up. I’m glad Rayn doesn’t remember any of it, but that doesn’t mean we don’t miss our parents everyday.”

Feyre’s phone rang from the kitchen counter, and she glanced at it, but Rhysand said, “Go ahead, baby.”

She hurried to catch her phone before it was sent to voicemail, but when she saw her father’s name on the screen, she hesitated.

With a sigh, she answered, “Hello?”

“Feyre? Hi.” Isaac sounded far too cheery for such an hour. “Busy today?”

Feyre looked over at Rhysand, who was watching her with furrowed brows. “I’m...not sure. What’s up?”

“I was going to meet your sister for lunch. Was wondering if you’d like to join us?”

Feyre blinked. “Which sister?”

Isaac laughed quietly into the phone. “Nesta. Elain says she’s busy.”

Of course, I’d be the last one you call.

“I don’t know, dad, I-.”

“Come on,” Isaac begged, and the sincerity in his voice was overwhelming. “I haven’t seen you since I’ve been back in town. Hell, I haven't seen you in six months. It’s just lunch. To catch up.”

Feyre leaned back against the counter, nibbling on her bottom lip as Rhysand continued to watch her, intently.

“Okay,” Feyre breathed. “Fine. What time?”

“Nesta told me she’d be at the diner at noon, will that work for you?”

She nodded, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see her. “Sure, dad, I’ll see you then.”

Isaac sighed, “Thank you, Feyre, dear.”

She cringed. She hated it when he called her Feyre, dear. It felt so...formal. “You’re welcome, bye.”

As soon as she hung up, she closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the cabinets, which gently banged with a soft thud! Feyre groaned. The last thing she wanted to do, especially after a night of little to no sleep, was go sit through a forty five minute cold shoulder contest between her father and eldest sister.

But then she smelled jasmine and nightshade and citrus, and she felt fingers skimming up the outside of her thigh. Rhys breathed, right by her ear, “Don’t tell me I took the day off of work for no reason.”

Feyre tilted her head down until her eyes met his. He lifted her up onto the counter, stepping in the space in between her legs. She let her arms drape around his neck and said, “I’m afraid so. I have to meet my dad and sister for lunch.”

“What time?” He asked, leaning down and pressing kisses to her jaw.

His fingers dug into her bare thigh, her shorts having ridden up. She said, “I’m meeting them at noon.”

He glanced over her shoulder at the clock on the microwave. “We’ve got about five hours, don’t we?”

Feyre groaned. “It’s that early? Why aren’t we in bed?”

Rhysand leaned back and met her gaze. “Are you inviting me back to bed?”

Feyre grinned, tilting her head as she pretended to think on it. “If you carry me there.”

Rhysand didn’t have to be told twice. He lifted her off the counter and slowly carried her up the stairs, his lips never parting from her skin. Feyre closed her eyes and dwelled in his touch, in the way the touch of his lips set her on fire.

Rhysand carried her back into her bedroom, where they’d spent their night tangled in each other’s arms, and dropped her on her mattress.

They kissed for a little while, but due to her night full of worry and anger, Rhysand didn’t pressure her for anything at all. Instead, he pulled her back into his arms and rubbed her back until she fell soundly, peacefully asleep.

_____

Lunch had been horrible, just as Nesta had expected it to be. Nothing too eventful happened, but it was horribly awkward. She got a free meal out of it, she supposed, so that was a plus; but, she was grateful that it would be another six months before her father asked her out to lunch again.

There had always been that pattern.

Nonetheless, it was over and done with and the day was still fairly young, which meant she got to spend it at Cassian’s.

His apartment was on the other side of town from the diner she had met her dad at, and by the time she had gotten there through the busy city, she had nearly lost her mind. She hoped Cassian had wine, and that he didn’t judge her too much for starting to drink so early in the day.

He’d given her a key, just in case he was asleep when she arrived back, as he’d claimed that the previous nights’ activities had completely exhausted him. He’d even said that without a nap, he’d have no energy to please his girlfriend all night again. She’d rolled her eyes and kissed him goodbye, before smacking him in the face with the pillow she’d been sleeping on.

True to his word, when Nesta called Cassian when she was about five minutes away, he hadn’t answered. She laughed quietly, debating on the ways she could wake him up. She parked and let herself into his apartment, careful not to let the door slam. But Cassian wasn’t sleeping.

A gentle melody floated through the apartment from down the hall. Nesta froze in the doorway as the music grew louder, and slipped off her shoes and put down her purse before quietly tip-toeing down the hall. He was in his office, across from his bedroom, facing the wall where a small, wooden piano sat. It was old, but finely tuned. He said it had belonged to his grandmother who was a music teacher for young students back in the day.

He constantly thought about getting a new one, but he’d always said there was something about the piano that made him love to play even more.

She couldn’t see his face, but she knew by the way his head was tossed back that his eyes were closed. He wore sweatpants and an old t-shirt, his hair tied up at the back of his head. He obviously hadn’t heard her come in, and she didn’t want to ruin the moment she’d caught him in.

As his fingers danced gracefully across the keys, Nesta leaned against the doorway and watched.

She closed her eyes, listening as the melody flowed around her. It made her heart want to dance, when so many things these days didn’t. Her soul felt like it could breathe and as she listened, she imagined the dance she would craft to his songs, the stories they could tell together.

Nesta hadn’t realized she was crying until she sniffled quietly and Cassian’s hands slowed and stopped on the ivory keys.

He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see her standing there, and hesitated when he saw she was crying. “What’s wrong? How long have you been standing there?”

He was up on his feet and walking toward her when she answered, “Long enough to get emotional, apparently. You play beautifully.”

His eyes softened as his arms wrapped around her and he kissed her, softly. “You used the key.”

She nodded, her forehead falling into his chest.

He was quiet for a moment before he said, “You should keep it.”

Nesta kept her head pressed into his chest as she stilled and said, “It’s… Cass, are you sure? You don’t think it’s too soon?”

He shrugged and she finally looked up at him. “I want to spend as much time with you as possible. If that means giving you a key so you can come see me, so be it.”

Nesta could feel her walls rising, could feel every instinct she had telling her to run, that it was too soon, that she couldn’t get attached. But regardless of all of that, regardless of the pit in her stomach, she nodded and said, “Okay.”

He could tense the tension in her body as he ran her hands down her arms. “You don’t have to always use it,” he followed. “Just when I’m lost in my music, or sleeping.” She chuckled and then he added, “Or, you know, when you miss me.”

She pushed back from his chest and lifted a brow. “And what makes you think that I ever miss you?”

He pulled her back toward him by her waist as he grinned. “Oh, you miss me. Judging by all the noises you were making last night-.”

She pushed him in the chest, trying to suppress her laughter as she did so.

#lovely 6 #lovely tacmc toab #toab tacmc collab #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #elriel #nessian #feysand

[snelbz]

Lost Time, Chapter 8

A/N: Is it weird that I want Miryam to be my mom?

Written alongside the always fabulous @tacmc.

Azriel didn’t bother saying goodbye to his mother as he dropped Elain off at her house. Through the kitchen window, Miryam watched Elain, standing just in front of the porch, as she watched Azriel quickly drive away.

Novan was asleep on the couch.

Elain took a few minutes, and Miryam knew she was wiping the tears off her cheeks, collecting herself, before she came back in. She didn’t immediately turn for the stairs though. Instead, she started her car, setting something in the front seat next to her and getting Novan’s car seat ready for him.

When she pushed the door open, still unused to the lack of creak, Miryam looked up from where she sat on the couch. Novan’s head was resting on her lap, fast asleep with his Meme. She gave her a soft smile.

“Hey,” she said, trying to pretend she hadn’t spent the last fifteen minutes silently crying in the front seat of Azriel’s truck. She was trying to figure out how to undo the damage her words had done. “How long has he been out?”

Miryam rubbed soothing hand along his back. “About thirty minutes. He got to ride on the new lawnmower with Meme and the sun just tired him right out.”

Elain came and sat down on the other side of her sleeping son. “Good, maybe it will be an early bedtime tonight.” She brushed his dark hair off of his face. She was struck by just how much he looked like Azriel in that moment. She cleared her throat and looked away, pretending to be interested in whatever Miryam had on the tv as she tried to force the tears back down.

She asked, “Did you have a good time?”

Elain nodded once, not looking away from the television in front of her. She could feel her eyes stinging and she closed them, but not in time to stop the tears that fell.

Miryam said, “You want to tell me what really happened, hon?” A small sob left Elain and Miryam asked, “Why don’t you go lay him down upstairs and we can talk?”

She nodded, picking Novan up and holding him to her chest.

Miryam stood and put a kettle of water on the stove, while Elain carried her son upstairs. She hurried out and turned off the car, her eyes catching on the box in Elain’s passenger seat.

When she came back in the back door, she found Elain sitting at the kitchen table. She waited until the kettle whistled and filled both mugs, dropping the tea bags into the water.

“I fucked up,” Elain breathed. Miryam turned around and looked at her, at the stricken look on her face. She carefully carried the cups over to the table and sat down.

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Miryam said, quietly.

“I was cruel,” Elain breathed. “I said a lot of horrible things, and I didn’t mean any of them, but I’m still so mad at him. Every time I look at him, it hurts so bad. I go right back to that moment, when I was sitting alone in an empty church. How will I ever move past that?”

Miryam nodded, listening to every word attentively. “Did Azriel say something that upset you?”

Nibbling on her lip, Elain shook her head. “He was sweet, as always. He’s a kind man, and I know that, he’s always had such a good heart. And he doesn’t lie, he’s never lied to me. I can tell when he tells me that leaving me was his biggest regret, that he means that. I mean, he told me he..” her words trailed off, and she had to clear her throat before she finished. “He told me that he still loves me, that he never stopped.”

“And how does that make you feel?” Miryam asked, sipping from her cup. “When he says such things?”

She held her mug, staring into it, as if the earl gray tea inside might give her the answers she was looking for. “Confused,” she finally admitted.

“Why’s that, honey?” Miryam asked, and Elain struggled to nail down the reason why.

Because he hurt me. He left me and he left his son, and he never looked back.

Because of Lucien, and the future we could have together.

Because he’s the father of my son.

Because I loved him and I wanted to marry him.

“I don’t know,” she breathed.

Miryam watched her for a moment, then she said, “I think you do know.”

A tear slid down Elain’s cheek as she quickly looked out of the open window. She remained quiet, and Miryam didn’t press her any further. Time ticked by slowly as Miryam sipped on her tea.

Elain had forgotten it even sat in front of her.

“Do you still love him, Elain?” Miryam whispered, chin propped on her fist.

There wasn’t a second of hesitation as she whispered, “I never stopped loving him.” A single tear fell down her cheek.

Miryam lowered her hand, placing it on Elain’s arm. “I know I’m not the most unbiased person for you to be talking about this with, but I have to ask.” Elain looked up, into the dark eyes of the woman she’d come to love as a mother of her own. “What’s stopping you?”

Elain shook her head and began to cry. 

The past. The past was stopping her because she didn’t know if she could trust him. She wanted to so badly. Until she’d spoken and his face had gone white and she’d thought about what she’d said, she didn’t realize just how badly she wanted him, needed him, in her life. But not just hers. In Donovan’s, too.

Speaking of, a creak sounded from the staircase, and Elain was quickly drying her tears.

When he came around the corner, his little hands rubbing his eyes and his dark hair a mess, he said, “Hi, mama.”

Elain chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of her son's head. “Hi, baby. Ready to go home?”

He nodded, reaching his arms up. She picked him up and he laid his head on her shoulder.

Miryam gripped Elain’s free hand in her own. They shared no words, but they didn’t need to.

Elain nodded, and mouthed, “Thank you,” hearing that Novan’s breathing had evened back out, knowing he’d fallen back asleep.

Miryam walked with Elain to the car. She pulled Elain into a hug before watching her back out of the driveway and head down the road.

After parking in front of her house, she got out and opened the back door. Smoothing a hand over Donovan’s messy hair, she whispered his name, trying gently wake him.

He stirred, mumbling grumpy nothings, which only made Elain laugh, quietly. He had always been such a good sleeper, and cherished his rest.

“We’re home, buddy.”

With a big yawn, Novan cracked opened his eyes and reached up his arms. She picked him up, along with their other belongings, and walked inside. Lucien had yet to come back, which she was grateful for. She definitely needed some time alone. After laying Novan down on the couch, even though he was beginning to wake up, she went into the kitchen, slipped off her shoes, and sat down her bag, along with the box from Azriel.

She tried not to look at the gifts, tried to ignore them as she opened up the fridge to see what there was to make for dinner. She settled on chicken nuggets - Novan’s favorite - and broccoli with cheese - her favorite, which she kept telling herself was healthy, even though she loaded the veggies up with cheese, butter, and mounds of salt.

After a minute, she heard quiet footsteps shuffling towards her. She turned and found Novan in the doorway. “You up now, buddy?” He nodded. “How does chicken nuggets and broccoli sound for dinner?”

He shook his head. “No broccoli.”

She laughed quietly. “Broccoli is non-negotiable.”

He rubbed his eyes and said, “I don’ know what that means, but can I have some apple juice, please?”

She laughed and said, “Of course you can.”

She did as he asked and he said “Thank you, mama.”

She turned back to the stove where the broccoli was cooking.

“Mama, where is Lucien?”

She stilled, but only for a second. “Lucien won’t be coming over for a few days, bud.”

“Why?” He asked, but before she could come up with an excuse, he asked, “Cause you fought?”

Instant shame poured over Elain. The last thing Elain wanted was for Novan to hear her fighting.

She slowly turned to meet the curious gaze of her four year old. “You’re too smart for your own good, kid.”

He simply smiled and held his chin up high.

Then she was hit with an even harder question. “Why didn’t Azriel say bye to me before he left Meme’s?”

A moment of hesitation is all she allowed herself. “Azriel had… He didn’t know if you were taking a nap. He didn’t want to wake you up, buddy.”

“I barely got to see him,” he pouted, the irony of the situation completely lost to his sweet, young self.

Elain moved the pot to a different burner, taking it off the heat, and she crossed to where he was leaning against the kitchen island and squatted down in front of him. She was choosing to trust Az, putting her absolute faith in his word, as she said, “Azriel is going to be around from now on, buddy. You’ll get more time with him.”

“Really?” He asked, one of his little hands reaching and playing with the hem of his mother’s shirt.

“Really.” She peppered his cherub like cheeks with kisses, which made him dissolve into a fit of giggles.

She picked him up and sat him on the counter, so he could see what she was doing while she finished cooking. This had been their routine all of Novan’s young life. It was just the two of them, and for so long, he was too little to be left alone. But as he grew older, he liked to watch and learn what she was making. One of his favorite games to play was guessing what was for dinner.

They ate and after Novan’s bath, she laid him down for bed. As she was heading for the door, he asked, “Will Azriel be at Meme’s again tomorrow, mama?”

She froze, but turned and crouched back down by his bed. “I don’t know, baby.”

His hazel eyes were hopeful as he said, “If he is, can we go see him? I need to show him Meme’s new tractor.”

The innocence of her sweet boy, his kindhearted and loving nature, it often brought Elain to tears. She blinked them back tonight and breathed, “I don’t know if we’ll see Azriel tomorrow. Or even the day after that.”

His little lip began to wobble. “But you said he was going to be here from now on.”

She ran a soothing hand over his messy hair, brushing it back from his forehead. “He will be, but he and mommy have to talk about a few things before we can see him again.”

His eyes widened. “Did he do something bad?”

“No, honey, no. Mommy and Azriel have known each other longer than you’ve been alive-.”

He interrupted and said, “That’s a long time.”

She laughed quietly and said, “I know. But we need to talk about some grown up stuff that happened a while back, okay? And then we’ll see him.”

Novan didn’t understand, she could see it in his weary eyes, but he nodded, nonetheless. After a kiss on the forehead, Elain was turning the light off and leaving the room.

Once she was in the hallway, she let out a long, slow breath before making her way back down the stairs. When she made it back to the kitchen to finish cleaning up, she halted, her eyes landing on the box she’d placed in the corner.

After staring at it from across the room for far too long, she slowly made her way to it, completely dismissing the dirty dishes in the sink. She took the box into her hands and sighed, slowly opening it up, feeling ridiculous that her eyes were lined with tears.

She was so ashamed of what she’d said to him today. She wasn’t even sure where it came from, but if she had to guess, she’d probably heard Nesta say it after one too many glasses of wine.

She needed to apologize, needed to tell him she didn’t mean that, she’d never believed that and it just slipped out.

She needed to tell him she loved him, that she hadn’t stopped loving him. But she was so scared of trusting him again.

She needed to tell Lucien the truth, to be honest with him about her feelings. She didn’t love him. She hadn’t ever loved him over the countless years she’d known him. Never as more than a friend.

Elain pulled her phone from her back pocket, scrolling through her contacts. She didn’t need to string him along any farther than she had. She gave him her best effort, for the past three months, she’d tried to love him, to see a future with him like she’d once seen with Azriel. But she never could. She had to talk to Lucien.

Her thumb hesitated over the call button, but she pressed it and was surprised when it went straight to voicemail.

She blinked and then hung up. Lucien always had his phone on him and he always answered if she called.

With a soft sigh, Elain placed her phone down on the counter and scrolled up through her contacts, to the one she could never bring herself to delete. She selected it, having it still memorized, but not knowing if he even still had the same number.

Without giving herself time to change her mind, she pressed the call button. It rang. And rang and rang and rang. She wasn’t sure what she’d say if he answered. It would start with I’m sorry, followed by everything else.

Azriel’s voice floated over the speaker, though it was only his voicemail. It was apparent it was a recent recording though.

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Azriel Draeven. If you’re calling to set up a booking, all shoots and formal appointments have been cancelled until further notice. If you have a pre-existing appointment, please respond to the email you received from me. I am no longer based in New York, but all galleries will remain open until the current pieces have sold. If you have any questions, please reach out to me by email-.”

Elain hung up the phone, not waiting to hear the rest. She was rooted to the spot where she stood.

All shoots and formal appointments have been cancelled until further notice.

I am no longer based in New York.

He meant it when he’d said he’d be staying. He was serious.

But he still hadn’t answered her call.

She looked back to the box, and shaky fingers, she began to remove the contents. There was a camera - a nice one, at that - with all the accessories. After finding the battery in a little bubble-wrapped pouch, she slid it into the charger and plugged it in. A red circle lit up, waiting to turn green.

It was sweet of him to get it for Novan, something for him to document his adventures in the same way Azriel always had. The thought alone had her heart aching.

Before she could think too long on it, she began to pick up the plastic and styrofoam remains, but when she went to shove them back into the box, she froze.

There was a small pouch and a note that couldn’t have been slipped in by anyone else, but Az. Before she even opened it, she knew it wasn’t for Novan. It was for her.

I have a boyfriend, Az. Stop acting like it’s you.

The fact that hadn’t even been the worst thing she’d said to him today had her dropping her head into her hands and sighing.

She sniffled and wiped at her damp cheeks, opening the note.

As she opened it up and found his messy handwriting the same as it had always been, she was transported back to their wedding day, to the last time she’d found a note from him.

So you’ll always have a piece of me with you.

Just like that, she was seventeen again and they were walking hand in hand on the boardwalk, enjoying their last summer before their senior year of high school. She thought back to those silly keychains she’d had made for them, how hers had ended up at the bottom of the Sidra after he’d left, wrapped around a rock.

She loosened the ties of the bag and tipped it over into her hand. A dainty, silver chain shone in the light above the kitchen island.

Elain wasn’t able to stop the quiet sob as she ran her finger over the tiny, silver puzzle piece hanging from the end.

______________________________________________________

When Azriel had dropped off Elain that afternoon, he had every intention of going back to his hotel. Halfway there, he realized he didn’t know why. What exactly was he going to do, sit on his bed and watch television? Go to the gym and work out? After his morning, that was the last thing he wanted to do. He couldn’t call Cassian or Rhys, they were both working.

He drove past a bar that hadn’t been there when he left, it had been a pizza parlor, but pizza wasn’t what he wanted right now.

The bar was mostly empty, only a couple dancing off to the side by the jukebox and a lone man playing darts. He sat down at the bar and the blonde bartender stopped in front of him. “What are you drinking?”

“Gentleman Jack. Neat.” She nodded and when she turned to pour his whiskey, he added, “And as soon as you set down the first one, go ahead and start on another.”

The bartender laughed, and said, “So what’s her name?”

Azriel just shook his head, slowly. “Elain.” Her name alone was painful to say.

“Elain,” the bartender repeated, slowly. “And what did this Elain do?”

Azriel snorted, wrapping his fingers around the glass the second it was set in front of him. “It’s a long story.”

“I hear I’m a good listener,” she said. Azriel didn’t say a word more as he drank as much from his glass as he could, welcoming the burning sensation. “I’m Viv.”

Azriel swallowed, then took a deep breath as he said, “Azriel.”

“Azriel with the broken heart,” she crooned, doing what he asked and filling a second glass.

He looked up at her. “Am I that pathetic?”

“Not pathetic, but when you do what I do, you can pick it out pretty easy.” She smiled encouragingly.

He chuckled, but there was no humor. “What are the odds you can leave the bottle?”

She laughed, “No can do, but just flag me down when you want another.”

He drained it and set the glass down in front of her and pointed at her. She refilled the glass and set the bottle back behind the bar, going to greet a couple of girls who’d sat down at a high top table.

He sipped this refill, rather than all at once, and thought about Elain’s last words to him.

I already got what I needed.

If that didn’t tell him the door of their relationship was not only closed, but locked tight and sealed, he wasn’t sure what did.

Getting stabbed and left to die would’ve been less painful. After downing his third glass, Azriel looked down at the bar where he met the eyes of a brown-eyed brunette. She waved, flirtatiously.

For a moment, Azriel stared at her, then he shook his head and looked down at his newly filled glass. If he hurt her feelings, he didn’t look back at her to see. Instead, he continued to drink. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but after a couple glasses when he could hardly keep his head up, the door behind him flew open. He thought nothing of it, not until the stool next to him was pulled out and suddenly occupied. He noticed to his left, another stool had been taken over, a few seats down.

He didn’t need to be sober to know who it was.

“How’d you know I was here?” Azriel asked, his head starting to swim slightly.

“You’ve been driving the same rusty, piece of shit truck since high school,” Lucien replied, coolly. “Wasn’t hard to piece together.”

Azriel closed his eyes and sighed. “What do you want?”

Lucien huffed a laugh. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“You don’t have to worry, I’m not here to try to take Elain from you-.”

“You’ll have to forgive me if I have a hard time believing that,” Lucien interrupted. “Since I’m pretty sure I walked in on you trying to do just that the other day.”

Azriel looked up at him, anger in his hazel eyes. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”

He asked, “Then what was it?”

“Everything okay over here, Azriel?”

He looked up at Viv, who’d seemingly appeared out of thin air. She was setting a glass of water down in front of him, having sensed the growing tension from the second she saw them walk in.

He nodded his head in thanks, picking the glass up. “We’re good, Viv.”

“Actually,” Lucien said, “We’ll each have a shot of Fireball.”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “We’re not in college, Lucien.”

“Now how would you know about Fireball and college, Az? I didn’t see you at VU with us.” He clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “That’s right. You didn’t go to college, did you? No, you just went and started taking pictures with your precious, little camera. You know who else didn’t go to college? Elain didn’t. Because she had to stay home and raise your bastard.”

Every muscle in Azriel’s body tensed. His hand stilled where it lingered around his empty glass. Even Viv, having walked away but obviously eavesdropping, froze from where she stood, staring at the group of girls that sat at the end of the bar.

“You can say whatever the fuck you want about me,” Azriel began, his voice low, calm, too calm, “but watch how you talk about Novan. Leave him out of this.”

“How can I do that?” Lucien asked, chuckling, humorlessly. “I’m not only looking out for Lainy, I’m looking out for Novan, too.”

Lainy. He had never heard anyone but himself and their little group call Elain that. It was his name for her, a name he started, a name that melted her every time it fell from his lips. “Don’t call her that.”

“You really have some balls, you know,” Lucien said, ignoring his demand. “Coming back after leaving her at the fucking alter, trying to win her back, trying to be a part of your son’s life, as if you didn’t completely destroy Elain.”

“I made a fucking mistake,” he said. “A week ago, I didn’t even know I had a son. Of course I couldn’t have tried to be in his life. But that’s the thing. He’s my son.”

Lucien breathed, “Then why have I been more of a father to him than you have?”

Azriel was instantly on his feet, Lucien only a beat behind. “I bet you were the only one who never tried to talk her out of keeping him from me. I know my brothers did, and my mother. I’m sure Nesta and Feyre would have. Do you know why she wouldn’t tell me?” Lucien didn’t say a word, just stared at him, utter hatred in his hetero-chromatic eyes. “It’s because she knew I’d come back. No matter how she thought I felt about her, regardless of the fact that she had no idea that I’m still in fucking love with her, she knew I would come back to take care of her. To take care of our son. And you knew that you’d always be her back up plan.”

Lucien shoved him and he stumbled back a step, but regained his footing quickly.

Azriel’s eyes widened, in full disbelief that Lucien made a physical move against him. After a loud, brutal laugh, Azriel took a hard step forward to react, but hands were instantly on his shoulders, throwing him down onto the hard, dusty floor. Azriel groaned, the breath nearly being knocked out of him. When he looked up again, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see Tamlin reaching down, once again, to grab him by the collar as his fist connected with Azriel’s jaw.

He had forgotten Tamlin was there, forgotten that he had come in with Lucien, that he had sat on Azriel’s other side, a few seats away.

Something in Azriel’s face crunched and he spit out a pool of blood before grabbing Tamlin by the face and head butting him in the nose.

Lucien caught Tamlin before he could tumble to the floor, kicking Azriel in the ribs in the process.

Az swore violently, still not having caught his breath, but tried to get to his feet. Tamlin was immediately there, shoving him back to the floor and trying to get a few more hits in. Azriel swept his legs out from under him with his own and pulled himself off the floor with the bar. Lucien grabbed him by the shoulder and-.

A glass shattered from behind the bar.

The three men turned to see Viv holding a glass in her hand, poised to throw it to the floor like the other before it if she had to.

“Let go of him now.” The door opened again and two cops entered the bar. “Officers, thank you for coming so quickly.”

Azriel closed his eyes, partly because he really didn’t want to be dealing with the cops, and partly because the world around him was spinning. They were all pulled away from another, on their feet, before being led into the parking lot. He didn’t even get a word in before he was being shoved into the back of a patrol car, Tamlin in the car alongside him, and driving the half a mile to the police station.

Apparently Lucien didn’t cause enough chaos to be taken in, which only made Azriel hate him more.

The ride was silent, and if Azriel’s wrists weren’t being held by cuffs, he would beat Tamlin’s ass in the back seat.

When they got to the police station, Azriel used his only call on Rhys, who didn’t answer his phone. He supposed he should have called Cassian, since it was his damn jail cell he was being put into.

Alongside Tamlin.

Azriel sat on one side, Tamlin on the other. Neither of them said a single word, even as it grew late into the night and then early into the morning. As he sobered up, he grew nauseous, his head pounding from both the alcohol and the hits he had taken.

He was able to sleep, for a little under an hour, on the hard bench against the stone wall.

He wished he could say it was the first night he’d ever spent in jail.

It wasn’t.

Morning arrived, a little after five from the look on the old clock on the far wall. Azriel was watching Tamlin with a burning hatred as heavy footsteps sounded down the hall, and stopped on the other side of the bars.

Cassian stood there, his badge hanging in the middle of his chest, arms crossed.

Azriel met his gaze and blinked.

With a dramatic sigh, Cassian unlocked the gate and pulled it open. “Tamlin, go home. Azriel, your lawyer’s waiting for you.”

Tamlin tensed at the word lawyer, but did what he was told and followed another officer to be released, which left Cassian staring Azriel down as he approached his older brother.

Without a word, Cass turned and began walking down the hall, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. They walked in silence, Azriel’s head officially pounding.

Eventually Cassian opened a door and gestured for Azriel to enter first. He wasn’t surprised to find Rhysand sitting at the table, dressed in what he could only assume was his nicest suit. Az could already see the anger in his violet eyes.

The door clicked shut and Azriel sat down, facing his older brothers. He waited a second, before he said, “Go ahead.”

Cassian and Rhys glanced at each other. Rhys said, “We've seen the footage from the bar. You’re pressing charges. Against both of them.”

He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. “No, I’m not. I’m not doing that to Elain.”

“Like hell you're not,” Cass said, stepping forward from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “They went into there with intent to harm you. Two against one. And you were drunk.”

“I’m not pressing charges,” Azriel repeated, words slow, as every word coming out of their mouths made his head hurt even worse.

“Azri-.”

“I’m not pressing fucking charges, so drop it!” The room grew silent, and Azriel let out a loose breath. He didn’t bother looking up from his hands to see their expressions as he said, “Sorry, I just- things have been hard enough between us since I got home. Okay? I’m not pressing charges. We don’t need something else between us.”

The room remained silent, and when that silence became too unbearable, Azriel looked up. Both of his brothers were watching him, eyes full of concern.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t fucking pity me. Just take me back to my truck so I can go back to my shitty hotel room and go to bed, please. I’m too old to be sleeping on a hard-ass bench after drinking….way too many glasses of hard liquor.”

“Az, what the hell happened?” Rhys asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Too fucking bad.” Cass sat down next to Rhysand and said, “You don’t get to leave until we say so.”

“She said she got a kid out of me, and that’s all she needed. She’s with Lucien now. I’m done with it.” He leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I’m here for Donovan now.”

Rhys asked, “When you say here-?”

“I mean, I’m staying right fucking here.” He stood. “No one told me I had a kid, a son at that. I get why you both didn’t, I’m not trying to put blame on anyone. But the fact that everyone thinks that I could just go back to my life now that I know about him, that I could walk out on him, and Elain, again? That fucking hurts more than the rest the of it.” He turned and headed for the door.

Cassian said, “I’ll take you to your truck.”

“No, thank you,” he said, opening the door. “I could use the fresh air.”

He let it slam shut behind him.

#elriel lost time #toab lost time #lost time #throne of ashes and beauty #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #toab tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #elriel #elain archeron #Azriel #elain x azriel

[snelbz]

My lord, I am wine drunk, and @tacmc and I are writing the smut you all want, but no one has asked for.

(No, it’s not the damn Nessian anal. You’ve ALL asked for that.)

Stay tuned to find out who and what it is.

#throne of ashes and beauty #tacmc #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #the shara tag #shara writes #smut smutty smut its elriel smut smut

[snelbz]

Frantic Whispers {NSFW Elriel}

Heyo, it’s another tag team prompt with @tacmc that turned into smut! (How does this keep happening?)

Based on an anonymous prompt:

Elriel. Something wakes Azriel from a nightmare. As he listens, the shadows tell him it’s Elain. He follows the sound of her whispering his name into the dark all the way to her room. As fluffy, angsty or smutty as you please. Or all three! Please and thank you.

The storm that was rolling across the Illyrian mountains was nothing like anything Azriel had ever seen. It was as if he was watching a wall of dark clouds overtake and destroy everything he’d always known, yet despised. He was almost content to turn his back and not intervene, when he saw the two distant figures flying into the darkness.

He yelled, “RHYSAND!” and dove for him, but it was too late. Both he and Cassian were lost to the wind and he wasn’t sure how they would-.

Azriel gasped and sat up, sweat running down his temples as he tried to orient himself in his bedroom. The darkness around him was familiar, calming, unlike the darkness of his dream, the darkness of destruction.

Azriel…

He blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly.

A shadow snaked along his bare arm, coiling around his neck as it climbed, caressing and curling around his ear.

Az… Azriel, please…

He was out of bed and pulling on his discarded pants before he could process what was happening.

He knew that voice. Gentle, sweet, soft.

Elain.

He hurried to his bedroom window without a second thought, completely disregarding a shirt or his boots as he jumped out of the window and shot into the night sky. She wasn’t far. She was at Rhysand and Feyre’s manor, at least that’s where she was supposed to be, while the High Lady and High Lord were visiting the Winter Court.

He tried to compile a list of all the things that could be wrong as he flew: assassins, an ill-attempted robbery, and — Cauldron forbid — an attack on herself were the three most likely.

It had been a long three years since Elain and Nesta had been forcefully made into High Fae, and while they both accepted and appreciated their new bodies, the transition for Elain had not been easy. Though their friendship had grown strong, he still worried about her quite often.

He landed on her stone balcony with a thump.

“Elain?” he called, knocking on the double doors. “Elain!”

He watched as her moving form in the bed stilled suddenly, as she threw the covers back, and quickly wrapped her dressing gown around the sheer gown she had worn to sleep. She quickly moved to the doors, opening them and letting him in. He swept into the room and his eyes darted around, looking for whatever danger she was in.

“Azriel,” she said, breathlessly.

“My shadows,” he said, voice low, trying to keep himself as hidden as possible. “They woke me and they-.”

It was then that he scented the room.

The heady smell of arousal surrounded him.

He turned, slowly, to face Elain. “Are you okay?”

As he asked his eyes darted from her rosy cheeks, to her hands, those beautiful, pale, graceful fingers.

He froze, watching as she hid those fingers behind her back. She nodded.

Azriel knew he should leave, that he should fly back up to the House and go back to sleep, that he should pretend this moment between them never happened.

Instead he said, “The shadows. They told me you were calling for me.”

Her delicate throat bobbed and she swallowed roughly.

Azriel could play clueless, but he was not stupid.

“There isn’t anyone here with you.” It wasn’t a question, but he needed her answer.

She shook her head, her hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders

“You’re alone.” Also not a question.

She nodded, not averting her eyes, those doe eyes bright in the starlight spilling in through the windows and open doors.

“You called out for me.”

”Yes,” she breathed.

Azriel took a step closer to her and asked, “What were you doing?”

Although he already knew.

Her hand went up, resting against his bare chest, not quite pulling him closer, but not at all pushing him away. Her lithe fingers carefully traced the whorls of his tattoo.

He could smell her scent coating her hand, could swear that her pupils were blown out in lust as she looked up at him.

An endless thread of curses flowed through his mind as he closed his eyes, finding peace and excitement in need in her touch.

“Azriel.”

His name was a whispered prayer, reverent, softer than the wind. He wasn’t sure if she had said his name or if his shadows were still telling him her whispered words in a private moment of lust.

He took her delicate fingers in his and brought them to his mouth, kissing each one softly before guiding it back down to the hem of her sheer nightgown.

She did not protest as Azriel’s other hand slowly untied her dressing gown.

He pushed it off of her shoulders and the gauzy fabric pooled at her feet.

The lace gown she wore did nothing to conceal the fact that she was completely bare underneath.

Elain continued to hold her chin high, but her chest had begun to rise and fall quicker.

“Beautiful,” he said, his voice nothing more than a shadow itself.

He cupped her cheek and ran a thumb over her full lips. She pressed a kiss to it and opened, lightly biting it before she sucked it into her mouth.

“Elain,” he whispered, as she swirled her tongue around his thumb.

Her eyes traveled south, to his unbuttoned trousers, as if she had sensed the primal change in him.

He took one step closer to her, so that there was no space between them. Elain’s hand still dangled at the hem of her nightgown, and Azriel longed for her to display what she had been doing before his intrusion.

She released his thumb and reached for his other hand, leading it to the junction of her thighs. She skimmed it over her sex and when he pulled his hand back, his fingers were glistening.

“That’s why I was calling your name,” she whispered.

There was a roaring in Azriel’s ears, a roaring telling him to take this woman and claim her as his own, mating bond to an unworthy male be damned. He kept his eyes on hers as he licked his fingers clean.

“I’m glad you came,” she whispered, once again, into the silent room, eyes lingering on those fingers. “I’m glad your shadows brought you to me.”

He didn’t say a word.

Instead, each scarred hand delicately took a strap of her nightgown and pushed them down her shoulders. The thin fabric fell to her hips, her breasts outlined by the light of the moon, the stars.

He brushed a thumb over a peak nipple, listening as she gasped. “Were you touching your breasts, as well?” He asked.

Elain nodded, pushing her nightgown past her hips and onto the rug.

Azriel’s eyes took their time lingering on every inch of her body.

She reached for him, grabbing him by his open trousers and pulling him closer. She pressed her lips to his and he ran his hand down her bare back, grabbing her ass.

“Will you show me what you were doing?” He breathed, his lips still on hers.

She pushed on his chest, and he willingly stumbled back a step, and another, and another, until he was sitting on the edge of the foot of her bed.

She left him at the foot while she took her place again, lying back against her pillows. She looked at him, a blush high on her cheeks, as she opened her legs and bared herself to him.

She ran a long finger between her folds and a whimper left her lips.

Azriel sat perfectly still, jaw set as he watched her every movement.

She slipped a finger inside of herself and Azriel’s fists clenched in his lap.

“This is what you were doing when you called for me?” He whispered.

Her mouth was partially open and she was breathing heavily. She nodded, her eyes heavy lidded.

“Were you pretending they were my hands?”

Her eyes lit up, the caramel becoming molten as she circled her clit and nodded again.

Azriel moved closer to her and took her hand in his, replacing it with his own. She shuddered beneath his touch.

She was already so wet and it took him no time to have two fingers buried deep inside of her, his lips dragging up her skin. The noises she was making only spurred him on, pumping his fingers into her more roughly.

That was the mistake most people made when they looked at Azriel. The High Lord’s Shadow Singer was a quiet man, so most assumed he was a gentle lover. He was nothing of the sort.

He growled, the noise low in his throat, as her nails dug into his back, just below where his large, incandescent wings met skin.

She had called for him.

And he had come.

And now he would make it worth her while. A dream become reality. A fantasy come to life.

She breathed, “Let me touch you,” as he added a third finger and her legs spread even wider. “I want to touch you.”

He didn’t move, didn’t stop the motion of his hand when he moved to the end of the bed and flicked his tongue over her swollen clit.

“Azriel, please.”

His name on her lips was his undoing.

She gasped, a soft whimper tumbling from her lips. She pulled at his dark, askew hair, meeting his gaze above her bare body.

“Azriel,” she whispered.

“What do you want, Elain?” He asked, breath fanning out over her sensitive sex.

“I need you to touch me,” she said, squirming as his fingers picked up their laborious pace once more.

He pressed a kiss to her, tasting the essence that was Elain Archeron. “Where.”

Her eyes connected with his as she breathed, “Everywhere.”

Azriel’s wings spread wide as he crawled up the bed, slowly, over her body, trailing kisses over her warm skin as he went.

Her hand trailed up his back and she traced the edge of a wing. “May I?”

Ha tensed up as her fingernail delicately scratched the thin skin. A shudder involuntarily rolled through him. “It’s very sensitive,” he groaned.

“Oh, I know,” she said, her other hand caressing his other wing. “Cassian once told me an Illyrian can climax from little more than a brush of fingers in the right spot.”

He froze, another male’s name on her tongue, especially his brother’s, while his fingers were inside of her, had him seeing red.

“Why were you discussing wings and cumming with my brother?”

A small smile graced her mouth. “Is that jealousy, Shadowsinger?”

He said no more as her fingers swept over his wing, down the edge, then from one edge to the other.

Azriel’s breathing had come to a halt.

He was straining against his pants, so tightly it was becoming physically painful. But as she began to drag tiny circles along the thinnest skin, right by the curved talon at the apex of his wing and swirled a finger around the tip of that talon, he couldn’t stop the shudder as he removed himself from his trousers and stroked.

“Gods above,” Elain whispered, catching sight of him.

She supposed she had her answer to the wingspan theory.

He continued to stroke himself and Elain couldn’t tear her eyes away. She continued her ministrations on his wings and she watched as his hand pumped the vast length of himself, his eyes shut tightly. Her mouth watered and she found herself very much wanting to touch him, too.

She wanted to know what he felt like inside of her.

She felt herself blushing, fully aware of her newfound confidence. Becoming fae had changed many things, even her desire for lust and passion.

She had given herself to Grayson during their engagement, in a moment of weakness. He’d taken her against a desk, her skirts pushed up around her hips. It was rough and sloppy and painful. It was not the romantic experience she’d always dreamed it would be.

But as she watched Azriel, as she thought about him filling her, she imagined that he would fuck her without abandon. It didn’t need to be a romantic moment, not with him. He knew her as well as she knew herself and she had grown to love the Shadow Singer over the past three years, even if he himself did not yet know it.

Elain took Azriel’s face into her hands and whispered, “Take me. Make love to me.”

Azriel’s hand stopped stroking himself as he met her gaze.

He breathed, “But Lucien-.”

“Is not the one I’ve chosen. The stars may have decided he’s my mate, but that does not mean I have.”

He was on her in an instant, his lips on hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth. His hands her grabbing, gripping anywhere he could, her waist, her wrist, her hips, her breasts, the curve of her backside, her throat.

It was there where his hand was when he pulled back to look at her.

Her lips were kiss-swollen and the blush high on her cheeks made her pale skin glow. She had a hand on his wrist and as he gripped the delicate column of her throat, her grip tightened as well. Her breath quickened and she moaned quietly.

“Have you been with a male, Elain?” He asked.

She heard the underlying question he wasn’t asking. How gentle do I need to be?

She nodded, slightly. “I am not made of porcelain.”

Before she could take another breath, Azriel had her across the room, pinned up against the far wall, between the doors of her washroom and dresser.

Her back hit the cool fabric of the floral tapestry that hung from the top of the ceiling to the wooden floorboards beneath Azriel’s bare feet.

He was beautiful.

His bare body, scarred and tattooed, was a piece of art carved by the gods.

Elain’s legs wrapped tighter around his waist as his mouth found the base of her throat.

Her nails raked down his back and she groaned, low in her throat, as his member was pinned between them, rubbing over her clit, the friction delicious.

His name tumbled from her lips, so reminiscent of the whispers that woke him.

With a growl, he reared back and slammed into her, filling her in one, hard thrust.

She yelled out his name, and a word that was so vulgar no one would suspect it was in Elain Archeron’s vocabulary.

Azriel watched every expression that captured her gentle, lovely face as he thrust into her, over and over again, the tapestry on the wall behind her shaking with every movement of his hips.

“Claim me,” she breathed. “Gods, Azriel, make me yours.” His pace picked up at her words and he pressed his hand against the wall next to her head. “I called out to your shadows. I needed you, Cauldron, I always need you, Az.”

Her face contorted in pleasure as ecstasy washed over her and he watched as her orgasm took her.

Her body began to tremble, knees shaking, back arched against the wall.

The sight of her before him, completely unleashed, had him near the edge.

He took her back to the bed, unceremoniously tossing her against the pillows as he dropped his trousers and crawled back over her. He hovered over her, his lips a breath away from hers, allowing no part of his body to touch hers.

She reached between their bodies and grabbed his cock, stroking him, and a deep groan dragged from his mouth.

Her other hand pushed back his shoulder, and he fell on his back against her fuzzy blankets, slowly, taking her with him. She trailed his body with her tongue, along his jaw, down his neck, his chest, his abdomen, up and down the length of him.

Azriel’s breathing was all that could be heard in the large, dark room. His fists were clenched tightly at his sides, his head thrown back, lips parted as he panted with restraint. She gazed up at him as he filled her mouth, unable to get enough of the dips of his rippling muscles, the set of his strong jaw, the noises he was making.

His eyelids fluttered shut, the image of her touching herself filling his mind as her tongue danced around his cock.

“Elain,” he whispered, a gentle shout into the personal bond being created between them, mating bonds be damned. The bond they now had, the bond they had always had, was far more precious.

“Finish me,” he begged, his fingers tangling themselves into her hair.

Her eyes slipped closed as she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, opening her throat and lightly gagging. The hand in her hair only tightened as he groaned quietly. His hips were rising from the bed, as he slipped into her mouth.

“Fuck, Elain, I-.” He froze as she swung her leg over his body, straddling his head. A strong arm banded around around her hips and his tongue plunged into her.

She whimpered, her lips still around his cock, and pressed her hips down to his waiting mouth.

He opened her up with his thumbs, the sweet little noises Elain was making sending his body into dangerous territory as he sucked her clit into his mouth, stroking her with his tongue.

Her mouth was so warm, so inviting and exactly what he needed that before he could stop himself, he was thrusting into her mouth, listening as she moaned and gagged with each pass. He pushed two fingers inside her, curling until he felt the small patch of ridged skin and felt her tense up. Her thighs clamped around his head as her release barreled through her.

Azriel let out a deep, strangled moan as his own release came, her lips refusing to leave their place atop him. She swallowed every drop.

She sucked until his hips quit jerking beneath her, her lips pulling off with a pop.

She climbed off and collapsed next to him on her bed, breathing heavily. He rolled onto his side to face her and she saw that the bottom of his face was coated in her orgasm. She blushed, reaching a hand out to wipe a hand down his face.

He caught her hand, stopping it as he licked his lips, then pressed a kiss to her palm.

“You amaze me,” she whispered, her heart nearly about to beat out of her chest, still eyeing his mouth, his chin.

He rolled her, their bodies flush against each other, and kissed her. He could have sworn he felt a flutter in his mind, against the mental shields he so constantly kept in place, a flutter that felt like flower petals blowing in a shadowy night breeze.

#tag team prompts #tag team oneshot #shelby and tara write #shara writes #elriel #elriel smut #elain archeron #azriel #elain x azriel #acotar #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab

[snelbz]

Just a a casual, every day text exchange between @tacmc and I.

And yes. We’re writing smut.

And yes. It’s for a multi-chapter.

Good luck guessing which one tho

#tacmc x throne of ashes and beauty #toab tacmc collab #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team

[snelbz]

thank you for feeding our thirsty ass some smut

I love every single one of you thirsty ass hoes and boy oh boy do we have some gooood shit coming for you soon

#throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc toab tag team #the shara tag #its apparently smut week for us

[snelbz]

Never Have I Ever {Tag Team Prompt}

Another tag team prompt with @tacmc, this one based off of this wonderful submissionfrom @flora-and-fae:

Hey! Could we have a tag-team Nessian with a classic uh oh there’s only one bed and lots of sexual tension

The rain was so heavy that Cassian had no choice but to pull off at the small motel on the side of the road.

“What are you doing?”

His eyes dragged over to the aggravated voice in the passenger seat. Her blue grey eyes bored into him.

“Unless you’d prefer to die tonight, we have to stop. I can’t see and I don’t feel like wrecking my car.”

She rolled her eyes. “I asked one thing: get me home for break, but no, you can’t even do that.”

Cassian didn’t respond. He knew that if he did, he’d regret the words that came out of his mouth.

He and Nesta had both gone off to college in Adriata. She had asked him for a ride home for summer break when hers had broken down, and it had all been going well...until the rain began.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We don’t go back to school for 3 months. One more night away from home is not going to kill you. I’ll be back, stay here and keep the doors locked.”

With that, he opened the door and stepped out into the downpour, running towards the small main office of the motel. When Nesta realized that after a few seconds, she couldn’t see him in the dark, even through his headlights, she begrudgingly accepted that he may be right.

Though she would never tell him that.

She waited, foot tapping against the floorboards, arms crossed. By the time he came back, he was drenched.

With a curse, he shut the drivers side door and ran a hand through his dripping, shoulder length hair.

“Alright,” he said, pulling a room key out of his pocket.

Nesta blinked. “Where’s mine?”

Cassian laughed, outright. “I’m not going to spend money on two rooms. I’m a college student, broke off my ass. You want to spend $60 so you can sleep with a wall in between us? No. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Nesta scowled. “You didn’t even get a room with two beds? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Cassian met her gaze and grinned. “They didn’t have one with two beds, princess. Were in the middle of nowhere at a damn motel.”

She only glared at him.

“If you want to grab some stuff out of your bag, I’d do it now. This rain won’t be letting up until tomorrow morning and I don’t care how pretty you are, once I’m in that room, I’m not coming back out.”

“You’re an ass,” she said, turning around to grab her backpack from the floorboard of the backseat. She unzipped her luggage and grabbed some necessities, a change of clothes, and her toiletries, stuffing them into the bag.

Cassian just grabbed his entire duffel bag and hauled it into his lap. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that,” she growled.

“I’m so excited to share this experience with you,” he said, monotone, before throwing open his door and running up to the motel, under the awning.

He didn’t wait for Nesta before strutting down to a door, entering the key, and tossing it open.

Once he caught sight of a rain soaked-Nesta, scowling, tossing her things down onto the bed, he howled.

“You look like a drowned cat,” he said, leaning over and resting his hands on his knees as he laughed.

“Go to hell,” she breathed, trying not to let her dripping hair and clothes soak the bed. She announced, “I’m taking a shower first,” and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door.

Cassian groaned and ran a hand down his face. He pulled his clothes off, taking them over to the sink and ringing them out. He tied his hair back and pulled dry clothes on, flopping onto the bed and turning the television on. There were 3 channels and none of them got reception. He sighed and flipped the tv off, grabbing a book out of his bag and began to read.

He heard the door crack open and a quiet voice asked, “Cass?”

He knew that the use of his nickname probably meant she wanted something.

When she was nice, she always wanted something.

“Hmm?”

“Um, do you have an extra shirt?”

Cassian slowly closed his book. “You want to wear my shirt?”

“I don’t want to,” she snapped, returning to her charming self. “But unless you want me to walk around topless for the rest of the evening, I would like to borrow a shirt. Or, you could run back out to the car in the storm and get one of out my bag.”

Cassian laid back against the pillows and reopened his book. “Topless? Well, as long as I’m getting a choice-“

“Cassian!”

He chuckled and rose to his feet. “Fine.”

The door slammed back shut and he crouched by his bag, looking for a shirt that was suitable for her. Most of the shirts he had and had brought were from football and were torn or full of holes. He found one tucked in mthe corner of his bag and pulled it out, walked to the small connected bathroom and knocked on the door. It opened a crack and Nesta’s manicured hand appeared. He gave it to her and the door snapped shut again.

“You’re welcome,” he called and made his way back to the bed.

When she came out, her wet hair slicked back off her face, his light gray shirt reaching her mid thigh, completely hiding the short shorts she was wearing, his mouth dried up. He sat up, covering his groin with his book. He hadn’t thought about this when he agreed to book the room with one bed and now he cursed himself for it.

Nesta Archeron was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen and there was absolutely nothing in the room to distract themselves from each other.

She looked over her shoulder and caught him staring. She blinked. “What?”

“Nothing on tv,” he said, reaching, grasping for casual conversation.

She shrugged. “I was going to read, anyways.”

He cleared his throat. “I should ask the front desk for a few blankets and pillows. This floor is hard as hell.”

As he reached for the cordless phone on the nightstand — an unconventional choice for a motel phone — a large clap of thunder shook the building, and the lights went out.

“Shit,” he breathed, and picked up the receiver, pressing the button in vain and swearing under his breath. “The phone isn’t hardwired in. No power, no phone.”

Nesta stared him down for a long while. Cassian wasn’t fazed.

“Are you going to say something or-“

“Stay on your side of the bed,” she said, voice clipped. “If I feel your hand, I will slap you. If I feet your foot, I will slap you. If I feel something hard pressed up against my back in the middle of the night, you’ll be sleeping outside in the storm. Clear?”

Cassian grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

She climbed under the covers and he did the same, even though it wasn’t even 8:15.

“You know,” he said, into the dark. “We don’t have to go to sleep, we could always-.”

“Finish that sentence and I will personally cut your favorite part off.”

He continued, acting as if she hadn’t interrupted him. “I was trying to say we could play a game. Something to pass the time. I’m not tired.”

She didn’t want to admit it, but neither was she. “Games are for children, Cassian,” she said, then paused. “What kind of game?”

He took a minute to think. “Never have I ever.”

She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that a game that includes alcohol?”

“It does,” he said and threw back the covers, going for his bag. He pulled out a mostly full bottle of whiskey and grabbed two of the cheap cups from the bathroom vanity.

“Why am I not surprised?” She asked and sat up, propping her pillow up behind her.

He sat back on the bed and poured a shot in the glass for each of them. “I’ll go first,” he announced and smirked at her, a devilish glint in his eye. “Never have I ever streaked across Greek Row.”

She blushed and threw him a vulgar gesture, before drinking it in one swallow.

She cringed, then shook her head. “You can’t use things you know I’ve done.”

He lifted a brow. “And why is that?”

“Because I’ll be drunk off my ass in five minutes.”

“Not my fault you can’t hold your alcohol.”

Blue-gray eyes narrowed. “Fine. Never have I ever fucked a professor, on campus, in her office.”

Cassian took a deep breath. “Okay. Who told you that. Rhys? Feyre. It was Feyre wasn’t it.”

Nesta gestured to his glass, delight contouring her lips. “Drink up.”

He tossed his head back, draining his glass in a second. “I hate to say that the professor incident wasn’t even the worst decision I made Freshman year.”

Nesta, despite herself, chuckled. Cassian refilled them both. “Okay, fine, we’ll play ‘fair’.” He said, throwing up air quotes. “Never have I ever had to pull an all-nighter before a final.”

“Bull shit,” she said, pointing at him. “There’s absolutely no way.”

He grinned. “Swear on my 3.3 GPA. I like to party, but I know how to study.”

She glowered, but took her shot regardless.

“Never have I ever sat drunk through a lecture.”

Cassian smiled, hazel eyes bright as he took a shot. “Fair enough.”

“Feeling the buzz yet?” She crooned.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” he winked. “I can go all night.”

She pursed her lips, ignoring his comment, the image it created in her mind, and the fire it sparked between her legs. “Never have I ever forgotten the name of the person in my bed the next morning.”

“Okay, one,” he said with a laugh. “It definitely wasn’t your turn, so drink.” He laughed as she scoffed, but poured another shot. “And two, I can tell you the name of every woman who’s been lucky enough to wake up in my bed, so that’s two shots.”

She shook her head, downing both shots. “I never considered you the gentlemanly type.”

He raised a brow. “I don’t sleep around, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

She laughed, outright, body growing lighter. “Your professor?”

He tilted his head to the side, hazel eyes dancing. “Never have I ever had a sex dream about a friend.”

Nesta watched him for a minute, smile fading, before she took a shot.

Then, not to her surprise, Cassian took his, too.

She thought for a second. “Never have I ever sent a nude picture to someone.”

His eyebrows raised. “Never?”

She shook her head, surprised at how light headed she already felt, but she felt triumphant in this small victory. “Not a single one.”

“Well damn,” he breathed, and took the bottle from her hands, putting it to his lips. He took a long drag, longer than a single shot. “Never have I ever made out with someone of the same sex.”

Nesta threw her head back and groaned. “Oh, my God, it was one time!”

“Wait,” he said, eyes darkening as she took her shot. “You have?”

She wiped her lips and nodded. “Freshman year was a little wild.”

“Tell me about it,” he laughed.

Cassian took a minute to think before he said, “Never have I ever gotten drunk in a hotel room with a smoking hot piece of ass.”

Nesta laughed, covering her mouth with her hand to hide her teeth. “Now you’re feeling the shots, aren’t you?”

But he wasn’t laughing.

He reached up and gently took her hand in his, pulling it down into her lap. “Don’t cover your smile. It’s too beautiful to hide.”

She couldn’t breathe. His hand was still in hers and suddenly the room seemed far too hot and too cold, all at the same time. She whispered, “Maybe we should stop drinking.”

“Fine,” he said, taking another huge swig, but set the bottle on the nightstand. “Then we play for clothes. Ask me another.”

Her voice was shaking when she said, “Never have I ever ignored my feelings for someone for seven years.”

He looked her dead in the eyes as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss you.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she said, “That doesn’t make any sense. If it was-.”

His lips were on hers before she could finish her sentence.

Her body tensed in surprise but it quickly relaxed as his tongue brushed along her bottom lip.

He pulled back, only an inch, looking into her eyes for any indication of what she was feeling.

But she had so many emotions swirling through her body - lust, fear, complete adoration - that she couldn’t decipher one from the other.

“Do that again,” she whispered, her voice much steadier than she felt.

He did. His tongue swept into her mouth and she clung to his bare shoulders, felt the hard muscles moving as he pulled her to him, until she was straddling his lap. He tasted like whiskey and mint and she groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip, gripping her hair tightly.

Her hands wandered steadily down his back, his skin warm beneath her touch.

She felt him twitch beneath her, his chest rising and falling quickly.

“Nesta,” he whispered, a question in her name.

But she wasn’t sure what exactly it was he was asking for. Sex? Love? Was he too drunk to even remember the details in the morning? Was she?

It was Cassian.

Cassian, whom she had known for years.

Cassian, whom she had always adored...a fact she could never fully accept.

She had no doubt every ounce of courage coursing through her body was thanks to the alcohol.

She kissed him, again.

He pulled her head back, exposing her throat and kissed down it until he got to the neck of her shirt, of his shirt. “Tell me to stop,” he breathed. “If you’re too drunk and this is just the alcohol, tell me to stop. If this is just a one time thing, tell me to stop.”

Nesta did no such thing.

She pushed him back against the pillows, her fingertips trailing from his hard jawline, down his chest, his abdomen, to the waistband of his sweatpants, low on his hips.

Cassian said nothing as he watched her, mouth hanging open, his whiskey-coated breathing hardly heard above the storm outside.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, quietly. “If I don’t want this to be just a one time thing?”

His eyes were glazed and dark, but his tone was light when he shook his head and said, “Never have I ever wanted someone as badly as I want you.”

Nesta’s breath caught in her throat. With shaky fingers, she lifted his tee shirt over her head, her breasts on display for him to worship.

A calloused thumb brushed over her nipple before he leaned up, bringing his lips to each one. Nesta’s eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation.

Her hands threaded into his hair, the strands still damp from the rain. When his teeth bit down on the sensitive nub, her grip tightened and she cried out. His tongue soothed the pain as he sucked and she ground her hips into his own, desperate for friction where she needed it.

Her voice was breathy when she asked, “What do you want, Cass?”

“You,” he whispered, into her ear. “All of you. I want to lie you down, and make love to you. All night. Every night. Now.”

Although there was a slight slur to his words, she felt the emotion. He meant every one of them.

“I-,” she hesitated, only for a moment. “I love you, Cassian. Gods, I’ve loved you since high school when you used to torment me on the bus. When you used to make fun of my cheerleading uniform and would get me in trouble in class. You’re the reason I’m at Adriata, the reason I’m thousands of miles from home. Because I’m in love with you and gods be damned, I can’t take it anymore.”

She crashed her lips against his, loving the feeling of his bare skin against hers. His hands were roaming her back, clinging to her, and his nails dragged lightly down her back. She arched into him and she gasped when she felt his arousal against her core.

“I love you,” he said, repeating her own words. “I love you, Nesta.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and rolled them until he was on top of her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. His hips settled against her own and she spread her legs for him, stifling a moan as he kissed her.

“Now,” she begged, “Cass.”

He needed no further permission, kissing her long and hard. He leaned back and hooked his thumbs in her shorts and dragged them down, as she lifted her hips to help him. After he tossed them across the room and she was bare before home, dragged his gaze along her body, allowing himself to take her in, to take his time. He dragged a possessive hand from her throat through the valley of her breasts, over her stomach and between her legs, barely skimming where she yearned for him to touch.

She whimpered, quietly, the throbbing between her legs growing unbearable.

Cassian leaned down, pressing his mouth to the inside of one thigh, then the other as thunder shook the night sky. She began to squirm, trying to get his mouth where she wanted, so he banded an arm over her lower belly. “Be still,” he breathed, looking up at her through his lashes. “Or I’ll tease you.”

“You’re already teasing me,” she hissed, and he laughed.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he crooned.

She didn’t have patience. She had want, need, lust and love all for the man who sat before her, mouth against her warm skin.

“Cassian, I swear to the Cauldron, if you don’t put your mouth against me right now, I’ll-.”

She screamed as he closed his mouth over her and sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her hand dove into his hair and one of her legs wrapped over his shoulder, digging her heel in.

He gave her a long, flat lick, and pressed his fingers into her as he flicked his tongue over her clit. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out in time with the suction of his lips and she whispered his name like a prayer, uttered at the most precious alter.

Her body was shaking as he moved, a soft whimper escaping her. “Cassian Cassian Cassian.”

He thrived on those sounds, found comfort in his name coming out of her mouth. He removed his lips, trailing kisses to her thigh. He bit and sucked on her skin, the purplish mark blooming on her skin, and he licked the hurt away, as he used his thumb to circle her clit, still agonizingly slowly pumping two fingers in and out of her.

Nesta felt like she was on fire, like she was physically burning from the inside out. Gods, the things he was doing to her. His lavish movement were slow and deliberate and he knew what he was doing to her. He was going to build her up until she felt like she was going to explode.

She needed him. She needed him hard and fast, but she knew this man. She loved him. She knew if she told him how badly she wanted him, how much she needed him, he would torture her and tease her until she was begging him to fuck her.

So she remained quiet.

She didn’t beg, didn’t plead as he discovered her body, until his mouth found hers and Nesta was pushing his sweatpants down with the heels of her feet.

She reached down, gripping him, stroking him, and his lips pulled away from hers as he looked down, between their bodies and watched her work him. She twisted her wrist as she rubbed her thumb over the head and he groaned, dropping his forehead between her breasts.

“Do you like that?” She breathed, twisting her wrist back the other way. She felt him shudder above her.

He looked up at her, lips parted as he breathed heavily. “I fucking love it. Gods, keep doing that and I’m yours. I’ll give you anything you ask for.”

She chuckled, biting at the skin of his neck and she pumped, slowly.

He shuddered, whiskey radiating off his breath.

“Nesta, fuck, I-.”

She silenced him with a kiss and rolled them back, so she was on top, straddling his waist once more. She began a trail of long, languid kisses down his torso, pausing to trail her tongue through the grooves of his defined abdomen. She followed the trail of dark hair that led to his cock. He growled as she ran a finger up the underside and followed it with her tongue. “What will you give me, Cassian, if I take you in my mouth?”

Cassian couldn’t speak.

He would give her anything.

She pressed kisses to his hips, continuing to slowly stroke him, teasing him, as he’d just threatened to tease her. “Nesta, please.” His voice shook and he wasn’t embarrassed in the slightest.

“What will you give me, Cass?” She pressed a line of kisses up his shaft, pausing to kiss the tip. It was so soft and erotic, he had to fight the urge to grab her face and thrust into her mouth. “Tell me, baby.”

His voice was quiet, rough, when he said, “Whatever you ask of me. Anything. Everything. Please.”

She wrapped her lips around him and watched his face as she took him into her mouth. His hands immediately gripped her hair, holding it back so he could see her beautiful face while she sucked his cock.

He’d imagined this for years, had used this exact fantasy while getting himself off so many times, that it was hard to believe it was actually happening. But as he licked his bottom lip, wetting his mouth, he could taste her on his lips. He could still smell her essence in his beard. His nails scratched at her scalp and he growled as she took him deeply.

He whispered her name, over and over again, the sound of the rain against the metal roof of the motel intensifying.

His voice hitched as he begged, “Come here.”

She obliged, kissing back up his body, pausing to lightly nip at his nipple, eliciting a growl from him. He grabbed her chin and dragged her face to his own, crashing his lips to hers. He rolled them so he was on top of her and he positioned himself at her wet heat. He ran his length up and down her slick wetness, teasing her, probing her entrance with the tip, but not quite pushing in.

Nesta froze. “Condom,” she breathed. “We don’t have any condoms.”

Cassian blinked, breathing hard, eyes growing clear. He looked down at their bodies, at their current position, and cursed.

“Shit,” he said, head falling into the crook of her neck. “I don’t think I have any in my bag. I didn’t exactly plan on needing them.”

Nesta tried to stop it, laughter bubbled from her chest, at his words, at their situation. Cassian also laughed, but continued to stroke her with his member.

She tilted his chin up until he looked at her. “I love you, Cassian. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. I’m on the pill, it’s okay, but maybe,” she blushed, as if the words embarrassed her, “Pull out and come on me, instead of in me. Just in case.”

Hearing her say “come on me” had Cassian almost doing just that.

He didn’t need any more convincing. He pressed his mouth tenderly against hers as he pushed inside of her.

Nesta gasped as her body tensed, then quickly relaxed. It had been a while since she’d been with anyone, but it hadn’t been like this with any of them. Her fingers became tangled into his damp hair as his hips moved against hers.

He stopped once he was all the way inside of her, letting her adjust to his size. He kissed her, soft and slow, the haze of the alcohol seeming to lift as he focused on how good she felt around him, how tight she was. “Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he whispered, resting his head against her forehead. He pulled out and slowly pushed back in. She whimpered and he repeated the motions, thrusting back in harder.

“Cass, please,” she breathed, and his name falling from her lips was an unleashing.

His body was beginning to tremble. Never in a million years would he have imagined he’d be here, making love to her in a cheap motel as a storm raged outside.

Inside of that motel, with her, in that moment, was his own personal paradise.

It was not rough and hard, it was not the thorough fucking he longed to give her. He wanted to hear her screaming his name, wanted to thrust into her so hard that the bed frame slammed into the wall, but not tonight.

Tonight, he wanted to show her how he felt. He wanted to make her moan and wanted to hear the little noises that fell from her lips when he thrust into her. He wanted to hear her whisper his name like he was her salvation, because whether or not she knew it, she was his.

This was not just a claiming of her physical body, this was a claiming of heart and soul.

“Cassian,” she breathed, and he held her gaze as he made love to her.

“I love you,” he said, quietly. Now that he could say it aloud, it was hard to stop.

Gray-blue eyes ignited as he rested his forehead against hers.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, leaving barely any space between their bodies. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her as close as he could as he continued to roll his hips into hers.

He was shaking when he kissed her softly and whispered, “Nesta, I’m close.”

She was sweating, her hands shaking as she pressed one gently against his cheek.

The sounds that followed, flowing out of her lips, had Cassian on the edge. He lowered his mouth to her breast and that was her undoing.

She cried out, her head thrown back in utter ecstasy as she came, repeating his name like a prayer. Her climax had him barreling through his own and he roughly pulled out, stroking himself as he came on her lower belly, a low groan tearing from him.

They stayed like that for a minutes, both breathing heavily as they came down. Before he could stop himself, he crashed his lips against hers again.

“Fuck, I love you,” he breathed against her lips, not willing to break the connection, already wanting to be back inside of her. “I love you so much that it hurts, Nes.”

“And I love you,” she whispered, kissing him softly. “I love you, too.”

The storm outside was still heavy when Cassian moved off Nesta and pulled her tightly against his chest.

“Cass,”she said, face pressed against his skin.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered, already lulling into a deep, comfortable sleep.

“I’m still covered in your cum.”

His eyes snapped open and he looked down at her, down to where she was gazing at her body. Indeed, his seed was still coating her stomach and while the sight of it did turn him on, he began to laugh and let her go.

He went into the bathroom and grabbed a towel before cleaning her off and tossing the dirty towel on the floor. He kissed her forehead, then her mouth, then the spot of her neck just above her collarbone.

“I never want to leave this shitty motel.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her. “Just think of what we get to do when we get home.”

“Mmm.” He kissed down her neck. “And what’s that?”

She pulled his face back to hers and he saw the sparkle in her blue-grey eyes. “We get to tell our families that we’re together.”

His smile was gentle when he said, “I can’t wait.”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t wait to tell their families, tell the world how much he adored this woman. They made love all through the night, until the storm let up and the early morning sun greeted them, lying tangled together in the sheets of a cheap, shitty motel outside of the city.

#tag team oneshot #tag team prompts #shara writes #shelby and tara write #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #nessian #nessian smut #flora-and-fae #nesta archeron #cassian #au

[snelbz]

Lovely, Chapter 4 {ACOTAR}

Written along side the beautiful and talented @tacmc​. Look out for Chapter 5 coming soon. :)

Find previous chapters here: Lovely.

“I’m going to ruin this.”

Rhysand chuckled. “No, you aren’t.”

Feyre blinked, placing her palms on the bar top. “Fine. Teach me your ways, bartender.”

“We’ll start with your favorite,” he said. “What is it?”

“Sex on the beach.”

Rhysand lifted a brow.

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Rhys held up his hands in a motion of surrender.

He taught her how to properly pour a shot, how to count as she poured. He showed her how to layer for certain drinks, told her what flavors worked best together and even had her to try to create a few drinks.

They tasted horrible, but since he had closed the bar early for the night, Rhys and Feyre drank them anyways. Rhys became more and more flirty as he became intoxicated and Feyre was loving every second.

“I hope you’re a better bartender than this,” Feyre giggled, perfectly aware how close together they had become.

“This isn’t…horrible,” he lied, hesitantly, downing the rest of his glass’ contents.

“You’re a shitty liar,” she whispered.

Rhysand laughed, and the sound of his laughter was more intoxicating than the over-vodka-ed drink in her hand.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, swiping her keys out of her purse from behind the counter.

Rhys grabbed her wrist. “If you think I’m letting you drive, you’re not only beautiful, you’re also insane.”

Feyre began to blush, not quite understanding what one had to do with the other but with how drunk Rhys was, she wasn’t sure he did either.

“I’m not trying to leave,” she giggled. “I’m cold and I have a hoodie in the car.”

“Oh.” He let go of her wrist. He grinned sheepishly. “My bad.”

She quickly dashed out to her car, unlocking the door, reaching into the backseat and grabbing the University of Velaris hoodie she kept for just these occasions. It was full of holes and paint splattered and she loved it. Pulling it in, she ran back across the street into the bar, completely ignoring the hustle and bustle of the rest of the night life of Velaris.

Rhys had set up a bottle, two shot glasses, salt and a lime on the counter. He rubbed his hands together. “Time to teach you the easiest drink, tequila shots. So easy even you couldn’t mess it up.”

“Oh ha-ha,” Feyre said, tossing her hair up into a bun as she stepped around the bar.

After acing her first round, but Rhys claiming it was a fluke and making her do it again, they had both had two more shots and Feyre found herself drawn to Rhys. He was leaning against the inside corner of the bar, laughing at something she had said, when she stepped in front of him.

He immediately stopped laughing and stood up straighter, towering over her. He breathed, “What are you doing, Feyre darling?” as she brushed her fingers against his hand.

He began to lean towards her, noting how she was beginning to lean into him, and watched her blue-gray eyes close. Her lips were so close to his, he could-.

The door to the bar opened and Feyre stepped back, Rhys unable to go anywhere as he was backed into the corner, but their eyes were still locked on each other.

“Feyre?”

She knew the voice instantly. Had done her best to block that voice out of her head these past weeks.

But somehow, he was here. She had forgotten to lock the door behind her when she’d come back from grabbing her hoodie.

Tamlin stood in the doorway.

“What the fuck are you doing with him?” He asked.

“What the hell do you want, O’Brien?” Rhys asked, his jaw locked. Feyre could see his hands in fists at his side.

She’d never seen Rhys be anything other than happy. Granted, they hadn’t spent much time together, but he was always the life of the party. The man in front of her now was dark and frightening. Almost like he’d put on a mask.

“Apparently saving my girlfriend from-”

“I’m not your girlfriend,” Feyre interrupted. “Not anymore.”

Realization hit Rhysand’s violet eyes. “Wait, this is your ex? Tamlin?”

Feyre looked back and forth between the two of them, curious as to how they knew one another, but too shaken up to ask.

“Come on, Feyre,” Tamlin said, eyes still locked with Rhys’. “I’m taking you home.”

“No,” Feyre said, although it didn’t come out as strongly as she had hoped.

“Rhysand here is not someone you want to associate with,” Tamlin went on, meandering closer to where Rhys stood, unmoving. “He’s a poor, pathetic college dropout who only owns this bar because it’s in his dead daddy’s name.”

Feyre was appalled that Tamlin could speak so horribly about someone that Feyre saw as purely beautiful. Rhysand’s chin only lifted.

“Get the hell out of here,” Rhys said, pressing his palms against the bar. “You have one last chance of my asking you to leave before I kick your ass and call the cops.”

“Feyre, let’s go.” Tamlin hadn’t looked at her once, not since he’d first walked into the bar. His eyes had been locked on Rhys and she’d never seen such hatred simmering in those green eyes. “You’re drunk, I’m taking you home.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to go home with you, I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

Tamlin sighed and reached across the bar for Feyre’s hand. The second his fingers wrapped around her wrist, Rhysand’s fist made contact with his jaw.

Feyre gasped, jumping backwards as Tamlin stumbled and held his face.

“Get out.” Rhys ordered, once more.

Tamlin’s green eyes were ablaze as he looked up at Feyre. “You don’t know who he is.”

Feyre said nothing.

Rhysand grabbed Tamlin by the back of his shirt collar and pushed him toward the door, jaw already beginning to bruise.

He shrugged Rhys off and walked the rest of the way to the door, but as he pulled the door open, he looked back. “You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Lunasa.”

With that, he was out into the crisp evening and Feyre and Rhys were left alone again.

The haze of the alcohol had never left, and suddenly Feyre felt dizzy. Rhys was at her side before she could even begin to tip to the side. “Let me get you some water, I think you’re in shock.”

Shock.

She couldn’t process why, but she knew he was right. Tamlin’s sudden reappearance has jarred her enough that she was struggling to even speak.

It wasn’t until she’d downed an entire glass of water

that she asked, “How do you know him? Tamlin?”

Rhysand froze from where he was cleaning up a spill on the counter. “We….go way back.”

Feyre blinked. “That’s not an answer.”

Rhysand’s face fell into his hands. “I’m sorry I hit him. Well, no, I’m not. But I am sorry I hit him in front of you.”

Feyre leaned back against the bar stool as she repeated, “How do you know him?”

“We went to school together,” he replied, simply.

Feyre waited for more. He didn’t continue.

“I should go,” she said, slipping down off the bar stool.

“No, no, please.” Rhys was back in front of her, his hands on her cheeks, framing her face. “We went to school together, we were even friends when we were kids. But then something happened with our fathers and things changed. Our lives changed. I just…” His violet eyes guttered. “I don’t want to get into it tonight, please. I was enjoying spending time with you. With just you.”

Feyre wanted to look away but she couldn’t. His eyes were captivating. He was captivating. She’d be a damned liar if she said that she wasn’t into him.

“I’ve been with a liar,” she said, quietly, gesturing to the door that Tamlin had just left through. “I’m done with lies.”

Rhysand hung his head.

Shame.

He was feeling shame.

“I will tell you, soon, just...please, not tonight,” he begged. His eyes were full of worry, full of pain. Whatever it was, Tamlin had never mentioned Rhys. It wasn’t Rhys’ fault. Whatever it was, it wasn’t his fault.

Feyre wanted to lean up, wanted to kiss those full lips. She wanted to see what would happen if she closed the distance between them. She wanted to know if his lips were as soft as they looked. She wanted to know if he’d be the type of man who would wrap an arm around her waist or if he’d tangle his hands in her hair. She wanted to know if he’d be a tease or if he’d take lead. She wanted to know so many things.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she snaked her arms around his waist and she hugged him. She felt him relax in her embrace, felt as his arm encircled her shoulders and locked right.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Thank you.”

She pulled back and looked up at him.

He was smiling again, though that darkness was still haunting his eyes. She wanted him to laugh and smirk again, so she said, “Show me how to make a martini worthy of James Bond.”

He threw his head back and laughed, not letting go of her as he said. “Now that, I can do.”

————

Elain was frantically walking around her kitchen. She kept opening cabinets, but wasn’t taking anything out of them. The stove was on, the oven was on, the radio was on, and Lucien was sitting on her counter drinking a glass of wine.

“I’ve never seen you this worked up over a guy before,” he said, taking another sip. “I mean, what the hell did he do to make you this worked up?”

Elain blew her bangs out of her eyes. “He’s perfect, that’s what he did.”

Lucien raised a brow. “Perfect? In the eyes of Elain Archeron? What are we talking about here? Tall? Handsome? Clean cut? How many suits does he own?” Elain stopped her pacing. “He’s…not my usual type.”

“What?” Lucien asked. “You mean he wears Prada instead of Armani?”

“I’d be willing to bet he doesn’t own a suit,” she said, then amended her sentence when she remembered he was wearing one when they met. “Okay, maybe just one.”

“I knew it,” Lucien said, crossing one leg over the other. “What does he do? Investment broker? Stock market?” He stopped and groaned. “Tell me it’s not another lawyer.”

Elain walked to where her wine glass sat next to him and took a sip before saying, “He’s a tattoo artist. He owns his own shop.”

Lucien only blinked at Elain as she took a larger sip of her wine.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I just heard you, he’s a what?” Lucien said, slowly setting down his glass.

“You heard me,” Elain said, eyes rolling. “And, I prefer you don’t make such a big deal about this.”

“What else is up with this guy?” Lucien asked, giving her the third degree.

“He has a baby,” Elain whispered, watching the wine as she swirled it around in her glass.

“A baby?” Lucien hopped off the counter and walked to where Elain was standing. “Does he also have a mortgage and a secret wife? Honey, this is no bueno.”

“You don’t know him, Luce,” she sighed. “He’s sweet and funny and so, so handsome. And no,” she added, “Before you ask, I will not see if he has a gay brother.”

“You’re literally the worst wingman of all time,” he sighed and tossed back the dregs of his wine. He looked around the kitchen. “Alright, we’ve got 45 minutes until he’s here. Let’s work some magic.”

“Work some magic?” Elain asked, brows raised. “Really? Because I’ve been trying to work magic all day.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, meandering down the hall to her bedroom. “Well, I know you’re not wearing that.”

Elain looked down at her stained tee shirt and shorts. He had a point.

“You cook,” he called as she heard him open her closet. “I’ll find your outfit. What statement do you want to make?” There was a short pause. “Are you sleeping with him tonight?”

“Lucien!” She laughed, nearly cutting her finger as she chopped the vegetables and tossed them into the pan.

“Alright, alright, don’t tell me.” Her best friend could be so dramatic. “But seriously. What look do you want? Flirty, casual, slutty, cozy?”

“Flirty and cozy,” she called back.

“Are you doing your hair or no?”

Elain ran a hand through her messy hair. “Probably just a top knot.”

She didn’t hear another peep out of him until he came 20 minutes later. “You clothes and jewelry are laid out on the bed.”

“How did I get so lucky as to having a stylist as my best friend?” Elain smacked a kiss on his cheek.

“Down, girl,” he drawled, refilling his wine glass. “Save it for your hunky tattooed boy.”

“He’ll be here in about half an hour,” she said, glancing at the clock. “Oh, gods. Luce, you gotta go.”

He paused with his glass halfway to his mouth. “What? I can’t stay and meet him?”

Elain barked a laugh. “Absolutely not.”

“I’m trying not to be offended,” he mumbled, drinking from his glass.

“I just…” she stopped, staring at her own wine glass. Lucien had been joking earlier, but would it be the night something happened between them?

“He hasn’t even kissed me,” Elain started, trying to state it matter-of-factly. Instead, it came out softly.

“Oh, El,” he breathed and his face softened, then he smirked. “Are you sure he’s not gay?”

“Lucien!” Elain cried, trying not to laugh. She pushed him away.

He smiled though and she realized so was she.

He said, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical reason he hasn’t kissed you. And after the meal you’ve made him tonight, he’ll probably ask you to marry him.” She smiled at him and he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. “Now go change, I’ll leave as soon as you get back. Someone has to watch the food and I need to finish my wine.”

He gave her a light shove and she made her way to her room. She found a simple outfit of a large, cozy knit sweater, black leggings, thick, long socks, and plain silver jewelry. Comfortable but cute. Just what she’d wanted. She took a couple minutes to touch up her makeup and hair before heading back down the hallway.

She realized two male voices were floating down the hall towards her and she could easily recognize both.

She froze, trying to listen in.

“I didn’t know you had a kid,” Lucien was saying.

Azriel cleared his throat. “Yeah, well…”

Elain took a step into the kitchen. “Hi!”

Az turned, his smile lighting up his face. “Hey,” he breathed.

Lucien cleared his throat. “You didn’t tell me Azriel Draeven was your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my- Don’t you have somewhere you needed to be?” She asked, cutting herself off.

“Since dinner isn’t for three, I’d say so,” he sighed. “It was good to see you again, Azriel. Don’t tire her out too much, we’re supposed to go to the gym in the morning, bye!”

It all came out in a rush and before either of them could say anything, he was out the door, taking his wine glass with him.

Elain was staring at her front door, gaping, cheeks turning a bright shade of red. “He- I- He- Ignore him.”

Azriel just laughed, breathlessly. “I didn’t know you knew Lucien.”

“I didn’t know you knew Lucien.”

Azriel shrugged, hands shoved in his pockets as he took a step toward her. “We went to school together.” A moment passed, and he took another step closer. “It’s good to see you. Sorry I’m early. I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“It’s okay,” she said, leaning against the counter. “Early is good.”

“You look beautiful,” he said and she blushed again. “God, that blush does things to me.” He brushed a thumb over her flushed cheek.

Elain couldn’t stop herself as she leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. She pulled back and breathed, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer to do that.”

He watched her for a moment, and that moment seemed to pass by too slowly. She needed him to say something. Anything.

But, he didn’t.

Instead, his hands found her waist and he pulled her closer, kissing her much, much slower.

He tasted like mint. His lips were gentle, soft.

She felt like he was holding back.

When he let go, his mouth leaving hers, he said, “Sorry, it didn’t last long enough the first time.”

Elain giggled. She honest to God giggled, and said, “Are you hungry? Dinner should be ready.”

“I could eat,” he smiled.

He helped Elain make their plates, piling his plate extra high with the homemade macaroni and cheese she’d made. He’d carried her food out of the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink?” She called. “I have wine and beer.”

“White or red?” His voice didn’t come from the dining room like she’d expected.

“White.” She peeked her head into the living room and found him on her couch.

He looked back at her. “I’ll have a glass.”

She asked, “You don’t want to sit at the table?”

“There’s a little too much space at the table for my taste. I’d rather be able to sit next to you.” He smiled and patted the spot next to him.

“Okay,” she said,  smiling and walking back into the kitchen. She poured two glasses of moscato and grabbed silverware and napkins, before making her way back into the living room.

She set the glasses down on the coffee table before sitting by his side. He was devouring his plate, which made Elain feel good, but also found it humorous that he ate his food so quickly.

“So, did you have a good day at work?” she asked.

He nodded, swallowing before he said, “Only had a few appointments, so I didn’t stay the whole day. How about you?”

“I have a wedding coming up so I was extra busy,” she said, her thigh brushing his.

He set his plate on his lap and rest a hand on her leg, not to high as to make her uncomfortable, but he had this uncontrollable urge to touch her, to be close to her.

“How was your visit with Asher today?” She asked, taking a bite of roast chicken.

“It was great,” he smiled, but she saw the hesitation in his eyes.

“What?” She asked, running her fingers down his arm. She trailed her finger down one of his many tattoos. She marveled at the fact that it felt just like regular skin. She’d always imagined it would feel different, more rough.

“Just…” He shook his head. “We’ve got another meeting with our lawyers coming up and I’m sure Ianthe will make another bullshit reason as to why she can’t come.”

Elain hesitated. “I hope I’m not overstepping when I say that Ianthe is a hot mess.”

Azriel had bitched a lot to Elain about Ianthe in recent days. He laughed, quietly. “No, you’re not overstepping. In fact, you’re being quite nice.”

She nudged his shoulder. “Well, if there’s ever anything I can do...you know, let me know.”

His smile softened. “You are a beautiful woman. Inside and out.”

His words were soft, but they still made Elain’s stomach erupt into a fit of butterflies.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, taking another bite of chicken.

“So,” he said, setting his empty plate on the table in front of them. “You make me dinner, you get me liquored up. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me.”

She blushed and looked away. His fingers found her chin and he turned her face towards him. “I’m kidding,” he said, brushing his thumb over her lips.

“But are you wrong?” She asked, voice flirtatious although her heart was nearly about to burst through her chest.

Azriel raised a brow, a small grin on his lips. “Elain Archeron. Who knew you have a naughty side?”

His voice was light, but she saw the look in his eyes shift.

Lucien’s words from earlier flashed through her mind.

Are you sleeping with him tonight?

Maybe not. But did she want to?

She didn’t say a word as she twisted, throwing her leg over one side of his body. She straddled him, and his hands settled on her hips, pulling her close and their lips found each other’s.

Her hands framed his face and she gasped as he nibbled on her bottom lip. Her messy bun got a little messier as his hand dove into her hair.

He pulled back, breathing heavily. His hazel eyes were dark. “I really was kidding. I didn’t have any expectations coming here tonight. I just wanted to see you and spend time with you.”

She didn’t answer as she crashed her lips against his again.

She knew that.

She knew who he was, knew his heart. She also was fully aware of how bad she wanted him.

She wouldn’t give him all of her tonight, but she would give him just a taste.

Something to keep him wanting more.

Something to keep him wondering about the secret fantasies of Elain Archeron.

~~~

It was almost seven, and Nesta was still in her dance studio. It had been a long ass day.

When she’d woken up and found Cassian gone, she had taken the hint.

She wasn’t looking for a relationship, she hadn’t even planned on sleeping with him until she’d gotten drunk. But she didn’t expect the pain of waking up on her couch alone. She didn’t expect the subtle ache in her heart when she realized he had left without waking her, without saying a word.

She had spent all day trying not to think about him, but had failed. Every minute, all day, her mind had drifted to him. She wanted to storm down the hall, into his classroom, and demand why he’d left.

But, she didn’t. She had remained professional. She had a hell of a headache, but she remained professional.

She was packing up her things to go home when a soft knock came on the door of her studio.

Cassian was standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smile his mouth. “Hey.”

Nesta blinked. “Hey? Did you just say hey? Are you kidding me?”

“I mean, hello?” He shrugged. “Was hey too informal now or something?”

Nesta scoffed and picked up her bag, tossing her flats into it. “You’ve got some fucking nerve,” she mumbled, trying to pass him at the door.

He gripped her wrist, “What the hell are you talking about?”

Nesta shook her head, turning her back to him as she shoved her belongings into her bag. “You may leave.”

Cassian hesitated from his place in the doorway. “I’m...sorry, did I do something wrong?”

Nesta wanted to scream, wanted to slap him in the face before grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him. “You seriously don’t see a problem with what you did?”

Cassian’s eyes went wide. “I don’t know how to tell you, sweetheart, but you were a willing party in everything that took place last night.”

“That’s not what I mean, you ass!” She turned and glared at him.

A look of genuine confusion and hurt was on his face.

She asked, “Where did you go this morning?”

Cassian blinked. “Home? To shower? And get my shit together so I didn’t look like a hungover bum in first period this morning? And, considering I walked to your house, I had to walk back to the bar and get my truck. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful. I was going to text you when I got home but I don’t have your number. Then, you know, you ignore me all day…”

He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. She had never seen him look so...genuine. The cocky grin was gone.

She asked, “You didn’t leave because I’m a one night stand?”

“What?” He asked, taking a step forward. “Fuck, is that what you thought? I’ve been trying to take you on a date since the night I stepped on you in the street.” He reached for her, but stopped, not wanting to overstep his boundaries.

His hand fell back down to his side. She had to admit, she liked this side of him. It was real.

“I would never do that to you,” he said. “I like you. A lot.”

Nesta couldn’t help it, she couldn’t help as the tears welled in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, no,” he breathed, stepping forward and taking her face in his hands. “Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry you thought that. I’ve been trying to catch your eye all day.” He chuckled lightly. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. I guess I got lucky that my eighth graders trashed my recording booth earlier and I had to stay late.” He smirked and a laugh bubbled from Nesta’s lips. “That’s better,” he whispered, eyes flicking from her eyes to her lips.

His thumbs were brushing her cheeks. He was so close. He breathed, “Can I kiss you?”

She pressed her trembling lips to his in answer. It wasn’t the same kind of kiss as the night before. Those kisses had been hungry, lustful. This one was gentle, sweet, slow.

When he pulled back, Nesta’s tears had stopped, a small smile taking their place.

“Are you busy tonight?” She asked, quietly.

“I was going to go to Rhysand’s, but he’s training a new bartender. Probably best that I don’t.” He chuckled. “I’ll end up being given the mess ups and I still haven’t recovered from last night.”

Nesta paused. “I think that bartender might be my sister.”

Cassian laughed. “No offense, but I definitely think I’ll pass now. Do you want to come to dinner with me?” He smirked. “I mean, you’ve already slept with me, it’s the least you can do.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re still an ass.”

His grin widened. “Is that a yes?”

She gave him a long, suspenseful look as she said, “Yes.”

“Good,” He said, offering his hand. “I’ve got an idea.”

He drove her to the supermarket in Velaris, telling her to stay in the truck and he’d be right back. He returned and tossed the bags he carried in the toolbox in the back before she could even ask what was in them.

When she got the look in her eye and opened her mouth to ask where he was taking her, he smoothly said, “Trust me, you’re going to love it.” He rested his hand on her thigh. She didn’t ask him to move it.

He drove outside of town and backed his truck up to the lookout point overlooking Velaris. The sun was just beginning to set and the skyline took Nesta’s breath away. She’d never seen the city from this perspective.

She heard Cassian hop out of the bed of the truck and turned around. With a grin, he lowered the tailgate and she melted at the sight in front of her.

A picnic was laid out in his bed, complete with a bottle of wine and checkered blanket.

“Attractive and romantic?” Nesta mused. “An interesting combination.”

Cassian huffed a laugh as he hopped up into the bed, taking her by the hand to help her up, too.

“I’ve always known you’ve found me attractive,” he winked.

Nesta just rolled her eyes. He poured wine into two solo cups, and handed one to her. She raised an eyebrow and looked at him as she took it.

He sighed. “It was either real wine glasses or the blanket, which would you have preferred?”

She crossed her legs and rested the cup on her leg. “Definitely the blanket.”

“That’s what I thought.” She could hear the smile in his voice as took a drink and began to unpack their dinner.

Chicken salad, potato salad, and ham and cheese from the deli. There was a bag of chips and two bottles of water that he pulled out last before offering her a little bit of everything.

“So,” he began, cramming a slice of honey ham into his mouth. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“My mother died when I was thirteen,” she said, reaching for the chicken salad. He choked on the ham in his mouth.

He coughed and took a drink of wine. “That...is not what I expected you to open with.” She chuckled softly. “I was thinking more along the lines of when you started dancing or your favorite movie or how good I am in bed.”

“Don’t you mean ‘wall’?” She smirked. He shook his head and swiped a piece of cheese from the pile in front of them. “And I figured might as well get it out of the way. It’s something I don’t dwell on. It’s the reason I threw myself into dancing.”

She shrugged. “Feyre had her art and Elain was taking care of our father. So I had my ballet.”

He asked, “Didn’t you go to VIA?”

She nodded and drained her wine glass. “It’s always been my dream to come back and instruct there.”

“So, now all your dreams have come true?” he asked, brow raised.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I’m happy. I’m at a point in my life where a lot of my goals have been met, yes.”

“But not all?”

She shrugged. “There’s always something to work toward.”

He nodded and refilled their glasses. The sun has almost set and she couldn’t help but notice the way the rays gilded his loose hair. She could see bits of gold in his dark hair. “What about you? Where did you go to school?”

“Good old VHS. Velaris High School.” He leaned back on his elbows. “I played football there. Got a scholarship to the University of Adriata and majored in music theory. I’ve always loved music, even more than football.”

“I wouldn’t guess that by looking at you,” she admitted.

He grinned. “Yeah, most people don’t. But, I don’t know. There’s something about music...getting lost in it. It makes me feel...peaceful.”

“I get it,” Nesta said, thoughtfully. “I feel the same way about dancing.”

“What about your sisters?” Cassian asked. “Have you always got along?”

Nesta chuckled. “With Elain? Yes. Feyre? We’ve had our ups and downs. I love her, though. And she loves me. Sometimes we just have an interesting way of showing it to each other.”

Cassian laughed as he took another sip of his wine.

“How about you?” she asked. “Family?”

He took a moment to think about it. “Never knew my father. To be honest with you, I’m not even sure if my mom knew my father. But she was a great woman, my mom. She passed away when I was in middle school. I moved in with Rhys after that. He was my closest and oldest friend. His mom took me in, raised me as her own. No brothers, no sisters. Just Rhys and Azriel.”

Nesta listened as she chewed. Cassian tipped the wine over her cup and refilled it, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t empty, along with his own.

“When did you start dancing?” He asked.

“When I was seven. I begged and begged my mom to let me start but wouldn’t with two babies at home. So as soon as Feyre turned three, she let me.” She swirled her glass, watching as the bubbles in the middle from the fresh pour spun. “I fell in love pretty instantly. I asked her to sign me up for every style of dance I could. I waited and waited to join pointe, but it had such a high age requirement. The day I was finally allowed to start...” She trailed off and looked out over the city, the last of the day’s light fading. “My life finally started to make sense. It was like a key clicking into a lock.”

“I know that feeling,” he said, falling back on the blanket as the stars of Velaris came out to play. “I love that feeling.”

She smiled. “Me too.”

She laid down next to him, his fingers instantly finding hers. She felt invincible with him. Beautiful. Flawless. Completely and utterly alive.

——

The hardwood of the bar against Feyre’s back was uncomfortable, but the feel of Rhysand’s body pressed against hers as he kissed her was enough to forget about it.

Her leg was thrown over his hip and he had one elbow leaned by her head as his other hand roamed her body.

They’d made sure the door was locked after Tamlin had left and before long, their hands began brushing which lead to lingering looks and finally Rhys had crashed his lips against hers and lifted her up to sit on the bar. One thing led to another and he was now on top of her, playing with the hem of her shorts.

Feyre pulled back and giggled. “I don’t think this is very sanitary. Your customers would be outraged.”

He grinned. “Eh, they don’t scare me.” He brushed her hair out of her face as his smile softened. “Are we drunk?”

“Oh, most definitely,” Feyre laughed, resting her palm against his cheek, “but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t wanted to kiss you like this every time I’ve been around you.”

Rhys lifted a brow. “Oh yeah? It’s because of my undeniable beauty, isn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning up to give him one more quick kiss. “Maybe it’s because of your undeniable cockiness.”

He smirked and looked up at the clock behind the bar. “Did you know,” he drawled, his lips brushing hers again, “that it’s 3:45 in the morning?”

Her eyes went wide. “Shit, it is?” She turned her head and looked at the clock. “I need to go. I have to be at the Farmer’s Market at 7:30.”

Rhys climbed off of her and hopped off the bar, helping her down as well. “Let me walk you to Nesta’s. You said it’s close, right? I’m not letting you drive anywhere.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she laughed, grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

Rhys locked the door as they left and immediately took her hand in his as they began to walk towards the residential district.

“I’m really glad I met you,” he said.

Feyre arched a brow, her fingers tightening around his palm. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “You’re a really amazing woman.”

Feyre looked away from him, up into the night sky. “I’m really glad I met you, too.”

She couldn’t help but compare. He was so different from Tamlin, in every way. She didn’t realize that the opposite of Tamlin was exactly what she needed.

They didn’t say anything else as they walked, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was warm, like slipping into bed on a winter’s night. It was easy and familiar.

She slowed down as they approached Nesta’s house. She stepped up onto the porch and he followed, stopping behind up. “This is it,” Feyre breathed, as she turned and looked at Rhys.

His hand wove into her hair. “Can I give you a proper goodnight kiss?”

“Please do,” she said, leaning up on her toes to meet him. His tongue brushed along the seam of her lips and she opened for him.

They kissed until she couldn’t breathe, until she was dizzy and high on the heady scent of him. “Goodnight,” she whispered, stepping back and leaning against the door.

“Goodnight,” he replied and pressed one last, soft kiss to her lips, before backing away and making his way down the porch.

When he reached the sidewalk, she called out, “Wait, how will you get home?”

She could see that handsome smirk on his face from across the distance. “Don’t worry, Feyre darling. I don’t live far.”

He waited until she was safely locked in the house before he began to walk away.

——

Elain was high on him.

Her heart was nearly about to beat out of her chest as he hovered over her. Her back was against the couch, the weight of his hips on hers as their lips crashed into one another’s a dream come into reality.

She had kissed men before, but none of them had felt like this.

They had done nothing but kiss the whole night, nothing but the occasional sigh or whisper leaving their lips.

Suddenly, Azriel pulled back. “How cheesy would it have been for me to bring you flowers?”

Elain’s brow furrowed. “Nobody’s ever bought me flowers before.”

“I’ll remember that,” he said, leaning down to brush a kiss to her neck.

She laughed. “Were you thinking of bringing g me flowers?”

“Mhmm,” he mumbled against her neck, “but I thought you’d be tired of flowers.”

“I love flowers,” she said, smiling like a fool. “The world could use more flowers.”

“The world could use more people like you,” he said, pressing another kiss to delicate curve where her neck and shoulder met. “Passionate.” Another kiss. “Caring.” Kiss. “Selfless. Kiss. “Beautiful.”

Elain was blushing, her face and neck on fire as he kissed his way back up to her lips. He pulled back and said, quietly, “I had this whole corny speech planned but I can’t remember any of it. I can’t get past the feeling of your lips, how good you feel against me. Be my girlfriend, Elain, please. I want you in my life. I want you in Asher’s life.” He paused and swallowed. “I know dating a guy with a kid probably sounds miserable, but-.”

She pulled him down the collar and pressed her lips against his, shutting him up.

“Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Yes.”

#lovely #lovely ch 3 #throne of ashes and beauty #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #tacmc #tag team prompts #tag team multi chapter #nessian #elriel #feysand #acotar #lovely acotar #toab #toab tacmc lovely

[snelbz]

Broken Vows {Nessian Tag Team Oneshot}

A/N: So @tacmc and I were both feeling very angsty yesterday. We were working on a couple fluffy oneshots and realized “Wow, we are not in this kind of mood. We need to break some hearts.” So, we decided to start with Nessian. Enjoy the angst. And look forward to another angst, coming tomorrow from Tara’s blog!

When she came home, she nearly tripped over the duffel bag in front of the door. It caught her off guard, so heavy that it almost was immovable. She also noticed that the house was silent. No music was floating down the stairs from his office as he worked.

“Baby?” She walked through the foyer, glancing into the living room and finding it empty, and entered the kitchen. His wallet and keys weren’t on the counter where he always left them. She called, “Cassian?”

A slight squeak from the ceiling was the only indication he was upstairs.

She ascended them slowly, cautiously. “Cass? What are you doing?”

He sat on their bed, his head in his hands. His hair was loose, falling in his face, and he was wearing his boots. He never wore his boots in the house unless he was just getting home or was getting ready to leave.

She froze in the doorway. Her voice was caught in her throat.

She whispered, “So that’s it? It’s over?”

He shook his head, refusing to meet her gaze. “I love you, Nesta...but, I just can’t do it anymore.”

She hated herself for crying, for the tears that pooled up in the corners of her eyes.

“How much longer were you going to wait before you just left?”

“I would’ve never left you without an explanation,” he said, voice low, “and you know it.”

Nesta had gotten hung up at work again. It was the fourth night this week, the fourth night Cassian had eaten dinner alone. It sure as hell wasn’t the first time and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.

But Cassian was tired of being her last priority.

He wanted her to have her job, and he was so proud of her for all of her accomplishments. But, when her work day was done and she chose to stay at the office for another two hours, three hours, four hours...it became too much. She didn’t want to come home to him. At least, that’s what it felt like.

“Fuck you,” she whispered.

“I wish you would,” he said, finally looking at her. “Then maybe we wouldn’t be like this. It’s been 8 fucking months, Nes. Did you realize that? It’s been 8 months since you let me touch you.”

She quickly looked away from him, his gaze making her grow nauseous. She hadn’t realized that. She knew it had been a long time, but...that long?

He stood, not coming any closer, yet still towering over her. “Is there someone else? Is that it? Is there someone that’s giving you something I can’t?”

She snapped her eyes to his, glaring at him and clenched her fists. “You know that I would never-.”

“I don’t know that, Nesta.” He cut her off. “I don’t even think I know you anymore.” She didn’t say anything. He spat, “If you’re getting fucked on your desk after everyone leaves for the day, it should at least be fucking me doing it.”

Her sadness quickly turned into anger. “How fucking dare you accuse me of something like that? Fuck you!”

It was all she could think. Cursing at him, cursing his name.

Her hands were shaking as she approached him.

She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught it and held her wrist with such a gentleness that it caught her off guard. His voice was deathly soft when he asked, “Yes or no; are you fucking someone else?”

“No, you asshole, I just said-.”

He interrupted, “Do you want to fuck someone else?”

The question made her pause in her rage.

“Of course not.”

He let go of her wrist. “Then what did I do, Nes? Is it just my body you don’t want or is it my heart, too?”

“I-“ she stopped. She didn’t know.

Cassian was the perfect male. Kind, sexy, generous, loyal, trustworthy….she loved him, but she pushed him away.

She promised herself she wouldn’t.

And she had failed.

“This is ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head, stopping her thoughts in their tracks. “You wanna leave? Leave!”

“That’s the fucking thing, Nes, I don’t want to! But you’re making that decision for me.” His hands gripped her waist and she suddenly found it hard to breathe, the contact almost too much to bear. “You aren’t giving me a choice!”

Nesta continued to stare up at him, unable to form the words from the thoughts in her head.

“Fucking say something,” he whispered. “Anything, please.”

“I’m not going to beg you to stay,” she said, voice smaller than he’d ever heard.

He watched her. He watched the tear that slid down her cheek, watched how her jaw locked up.

“Then I guess that’s that,” he breathed.

He stepped around her, grabbing his keys off the dresser, and walked out into the hallway. After a few seconds, she heard the door open and close.

It didn’t open again.

Nesta stood there, alone in their bedroom for what felt like ages, but may have only been moments. She glanced at his nightstand, expecting to see his books and things on top. But it was all gone. The smooth surface was bare, save for one small object in the center. She crossed the room and looked down, feeling like she’d been punched in the gut.

His wedding band was all he’d left behind.

——

Cassian didn’t make it far.

He drove down to the stop sign at the end of their street and put the car in park.

She didn’t fight for him.

Hadn’t wanted to fight for him.

And it had broken him more than all the other shit had.

He knew she was being honest, that there wasn’t anyone else. That had almost made it worse, knowing that she just wasn’t willing to try for him.

He punched his steering wheel, listening as a sickening crunch came from his hand. He violently swore and pressed his head to the steering wheel, trying to breathe, trying to will away the tears that threatened to fall.

Not from the pain in his hand, but the from the emptiness in his soul.

A horn sounded behind him and he snapped his head up and put the car in drive. He drove to the only place he could think of and knocked on the front door.

Azriel swung the door open. Shock was clear on his face as he asked, “What the hell happened to you? And is you hand broken?”

Cassian swept past him without answering his question.

“Can I stay here tonight?” He asked, plopping down on his couch.

Azriel was still in his doorway when he hesitated. “I- Okay.”

Hel closed the door and went into his kitchen, returning with a frozen bag of peas. He handed it to Cassian, who wrapped it around his swollen hand without a word. His phone was on the coffee table in front of him and he didn’t tear his eyes away from it.

“I’ll be right back, I need to go tell Elain that you’re here.”

It was then that he registered what his brother was wearing — or what he wasn’t. Only a pair of jeans, unbuttoned, slung low on his hips.

Cassian swore. “I’m so sorry, Az, I didn’t-.”

“She’ll understand, you know that. Just- just give me a minute.”

There was nothing but kindness in Azriel’s voice, but Cassian still felt guilty. He ruined their night.

And he’d ruined his marriage.

Except he didn’t know how he ruined it.

Only that he’d driven the final nail in the coffin tonight.

When Azriel came back, his jeans were buttoned and a sweatshirt was pulled over his messy hair, covering his recently bare chest.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, entering the room.

Cassian flexed his good hand, his left hand, and looked at the bare strip of skin on his finger. “I left her.”

Azriel stopped where he was striding for the couch. His eyes were wide. “You left her? You left Nesta?”

He could only nod, only look at the pale band of skin. “I asked her if she was fucking someone else. She said no. I asked why she didn’t want to be with me, and she didn’t answer. And then she said she wouldn’t beg me to stay. So I left.”

His voice was flat, cold. It was emptier than Azriel had ever heard it.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to comfort his brother, didn’t know how to make it right.

He sat down, slowly, on the opposite end of the couch. “You still love her, though.”

It wasn’t a question, so Cassian didn’t answer. “I don’t know what to do, Az.”

“Cassian?”

Both of their eyes shot to the top of the stairs, where Elain stood, wearing nothing but Azriel’s shirt. Cass blushed at the intimacy of the moment he’d intruded on. She came down the stairs when she saw his face. “Is everything okay? Where’s Nesta? Is she okay?”

Cassian swallowed, his throat tight, and looked away. He gripped the peas on his hand even tighter. “She’s fine, she’s at home.”

“Oh, thank the Cauldron,” she breathed. She glanced at the clock, the late hour. “Not to be rude, Cass, but why aren’t you at home?”

“El,” Azriel cautioned.

Cassian didn’t hesitate when he said, “I left her.”

His voice was flat again, but when Azriel looked at Elain, get delicate hands were shaking.

“What did you say?”

He hung his head as he said, “I left her, Elain. It’s over.”

Quiet footsteps padded over to him and he saw her pretty, pink toenails stop in front of him. He glanced up at her, just in time to see her hand pull back.

The crack of her hand against his cheek was earth shattering.

Azriel was instantly up, instantly had his arm around her waist and pulling her away.

“How dare you?” She cried, raising her voice, which was so unlike her. “How fucking dare you?”

“Elain.” Azriel was trying to get her to look at him, but her caramel eyes were locked onto Cassian.

Her voice was deadly soft as she said, “Get out.”

“Elain, stop. Cassian, you don’t have to go anywhere.” Azriel was between the two of them now. One hand gripping his fiancée, the other outstretched toward his brother. “El, come talk to me upstairs.”

Elain gave him one last searing look before she turned and went back to their bedroom.

Azriel looked at Cassian. He was still staring at his phone.

“She knows something I don’t,” he whispered.

Azriel glanced up the stairs. “I’m sure she does. She’s her sister, man.”

“And I’m her husband.”

And he didn’t know a thing. He didn’t know a thing, because no matter how much he tried and begged and did his best to make her happy, Nesta shared nothing with him.

He was nothing to her, and that much was obvious.

Alone in Azriel’s living room, Cassian cried, angrily, bitterly. He was furious. He was heartbroken. He was lost, left feeling hopeless.

He wanted his wife.

He wanted the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman he’d married.

And he wanted that woman to love him back, as she once had.

He woke up the next morning to the sounds of pots and pans being thrown around in the kitchen. He sat up and wiped a hand down his face. He winced when he realized he could barely move it. He got up off the too small couch he’d slept on, raising to his full height and stretched. He felt the bones in his neck and back grinding.

He walked into the kitchen and found Elain, dropping a pan into the sink. It clanged against the metal surface.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Oh, did I wake you?” She asked, mock innocence in her voice.

With Azriel at work, he realized he had no allies in the house. “Yeah, but I need to get to the gym. Make sure everything is running well.”

“Yes, you do.”

The note of finality in her voice had him going back into the living room, picking up his phone and pulling his boots on. He left without another word.

When he got in his truck, he realized he could no longer close his fist. He would have to go to the hospital before going to work.

So that’s where he went, driving way below the speed limit. He felt empty. Numb.

He wanted to see Nesta. He missed her. He’d been away for less than a day, and the distance was agonizing.

Even if they hadn’t been intimate in months, she’d still slept in his arms every night. She still kissed him goodbye every morning as she left for work. He still loved her, with every fiber of his being.

They didn’t ask any questions at the hospital, not when they learned he owned the largest gym in Velaris and he’d told them he was training a bit too hard in the sparring ring. They reset the bones and wrapped it tightly. It didn’t feel good, but he was relieved the numbness in his soul didn’t extend to his body.

He got to the gym, nodding his greeting to everyone before locking himself in his office. He sat at his desk and let his head fall in his hands again.

He’d lost his wife.

He’d lost the love of his life.

And he didn’t know what to do.

——

The day passed by slowly.

Nesta had called out of work, hadn’t left their house all day. Maybe she should have told him. She hated herself for feeling the need to be so closed off, even with him. She hated herself for letting things get so bad, for neglecting him to the point that he felt unloved, unworthy.

That had never been her intention.

She couldn’t lose him.

A knocking on her door after lunch pulled her from her thoughts as she stared at the wall above her television.

She opened the door and found Elain. She stood there, her purse slung over her shoulder, a bottle of wine in her hands. Pity on her face.

Nesta took one look at her sister, one look at the only person who knew what she’d been going through, and burst into tears.

Elain led her back inside and took her upstairs. When they entered the bedroom and Elain found the bed untouched, still made from the day before, Nesta whispered, “I can’t sleep in our bed without him.” Elain glanced at her. “I slept on the couch.”

Elain sat on the end of the bed, the bed that Nesta had shared with her husband every night they’d been together. “You never told him, Nes?” She shook her head. “You don’t think he deserved to know that you were trying to start a family?”

She shook her head. “He would’ve been crushed if he found out.”

Elain frowned. “Nesta, he loves you. And he thinks you don’t love him anymore.”

Nesta stopped. “How do you know that? How do you know any of this? Have you talked to him?”

“Because he showed up at my house last night and he was a wreck. He still was this morning when I made him leave.”

Nesta was quiet. “You asked him to leave?”

Elain, sweet, loving Elain, had ice in her voice when she said, “He told me he had left my sister. I’m sorry I couldn’t find any sympathy for him.”

“I still love him,” Nesta breathed. “I’ll always love him. He’s my whole world. I want to give him the family he’s always dreamed of, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that. What if he won’t want me if I’m broken?”

Elains eyes softened. “He wants you, Nesta.”

Nesta looked down at her hands, and the bitten down nails she had spent all night destroying. “I’m scared.”

There it was. The words she’d never said aloud. The fear had been eating away at her for months, not allowing her to enjoy life, to enjoy her husband, the person she loved more than herself.

Elain took her hand. “I’ll go with you, if you want to see someone. If you want to get some answers.”

She squeezed Elain’s fingers in thanks, but shook her head. “I love you for that, but you’re not the one I’ll need with me.”

She nodded, pressed a kiss to her sister’s cheek and stood. “He’s at the gym, by the way. Or the hospital, either one.”

Nesta’s eyes went wide as she asked, “Hospital?”

——

Cassian was looking at some expense report his assistant had pulled together for him for the third time, not able to process anything he was looking at, when he heard the voice raised in the hall outside.

“I don’t give a shit what he’s doing, he’s my husband, and I’m going back to see him.”

He was up from his desk and walking to the door when it burst open.

She stood there, hair piled on top of her head, in jeans and a t-shirt. So informal compared to how he usually saw her in her suits. Her eyes roved over his body but settled on the wrapped and braced hand at his side.

She breathed, “What did you do?”

He scratched the back of his neck. He wanted to run to her, lift her off the ground, spin her around and press his mouth to hers. But, instead, he said, “Got in a fight with my steering wheel.”

She didn’t say anything. She simply shook her head, eyes beginning to water. “Do you have time to talk?”

He walked past her and shut the door. She heard the lock click. He went to the window overlooking the gym below and twisted the blinds shut. They were completely blind to the outside world.

He sat down on the couch against the wall, rather than back at his desk. “If you’re here to finish shredding my heart, I’d rather there not be any witnesses.” His voice was so empty, it nearly brought her to her knees.

She’d done this, she did this to him, even if she didn’t intend to.

“Cassian,” she breathed. “I….I’m sorry.”

She almost choked on the words, and Cassian could tell because the tension in his shoulders faded, just a little bit.

“I love you,” she said. “I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you.”

He said nothing.

He just stared at his broken hand.

“Was it something I did?” He asked, quietly.

“No,” she breathed and she walked to the couch and sat next to him. She took his hand, battered and bandaged, into her own, so she could focus on something that wasn’t his face. “It’s me, baby. It was all me.”

Her fingers carefully brushed over the wrappings. He could feel her featherlight touch through the bandages. He didn’t say anything just waited for her to continue.

He didn’t miss the fact that she was still wearing her wedding set, while his was missing from his finger.

Regardless of the fact that she’d pushed him away, it still felt like a betrayal.

“I….don’t think I can have kids,” she said, hardly more than a whisper. “You want a family, but I don’t think I can give it to you.”

The words hung between them, heavy and, in a way, damning. When he didn’t say anything, she waited. Waited for him to tell her to leave, that she wasn’t worth anything to him.

His finger was under her chin, forcing her to look at him, to look into his hazel eyes as tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“That’s why you’ve been pushing me away? Because you think you can’t give me children?”

A broken sob was her only answer.

She was wrapped in his arms before she could say anything else, pulled into his lap as if she were a child. “I don’t give a damn if you can’t have children. We can adopt or not. We don’t have to. We can be that couple who has lavish things and brags about our extra money.” He pulled back to look at her. “I love you, Nesta. If you were to bless me with children, I’d be so honored, but if I spend the rest of my days loving you alone, I have no problem with that.”

Her face fell into his chest. His grip only tightened.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I love you so much.”

She didn’t speak, because she couldn’t say a word. She had spent her entire life hiding. Hiding from her emotions, hiding from her failures, putting on the perfect show.

“I wanted to have kids,” she began, once her voice became steadier. “I wanted to have kids, and I wanted to give them to you. But it never happened, and I just...our future wasn’t so sure anymore.”

He stroked her hair with his strong hand. “Our future isn’t set in stone. When I married you, I vowed to take each day as it came. You’re my entire world, Nesta.” His voice broke on her name. “I shouldn’t have left.”

Her own voice was a whisper when she said, “I didn’t even ask you to stay. I practically pushed you out the door.”

“No, Nes, no, I should have-.” His words were cut off as her lips were pressed against his. Her fingers dove into his hair and she resituated herself until she was straddling him on the couch. She felt his wrapped hand pressed against her back, pulling her as close as he could.

The feeling of his hands on her body after so long was intoxicated. She felt lightheaded and drunk on his kiss.

This is what she had pushed away, out of fear.

Their clothes were shed and he laid her back on the couch, sharing breath and desperate kisses as they were joined in the most intimate way. Whispered praises and confessions were the only distinguishable noises, save for their heavy breathing and the noises that fell from their lips as they found their release together.

He kissed away the tears that had fallen, as she clung to him, refusing to let him pull back, pull away, pull out.

She just kept repeating, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, quietly, longing for his wedding band that was, no doubt, still sitting where he’d left it at home. “I love you.”

They laid there, quietly, resting in each other’s arms as the afternoon passed by.

No one knocked on his office door, no calls came through on his phone. They were alone in the world, in their own bubble.

“Do you-,” she began, but she choked on the words. Her chin wobbled as she said, “Do you think we should get a professional opinion?”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “It wouldn’t hurt, but that’s your decision, baby.”

She nodded. “I want to know. I have to know.”

He brushed his finger down her cheek. “Whatever they say, it’s okay, okay? It’s you and me, no matter what.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled, his chest feeling a little bit lighter when he said, “Okay.”

______

One of the perks of owning your own gym was being able to make your own schedule. Cassian never worked on Saturdays, he never had. Even during their dark days, he was always home, always there with her.

So when he got an phone call asking him to come to the gym, that it was an emergency, Nesta was almost positive the building was on fire.

“I’m sure everything’s fine, just need to go deal with a few things.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and left her in bed, which was where the majority of their time was now spent.

The news that they would never conceive their own child was not only a blow to Nesta, but also to Cassian. It wasn’t only her body keeping them from having children, it was his as well.

Many tears had been shed, sorrows drowned in bottles of wine and they found themselves in each other.

They looked for the silver lining in it all though, grateful that they had their answer.

They also took full advantage of the fact that no protection was ever needed.

Ever again.

Once Cassian left, he hurried to his car and sped to the gym, nearly unable to control his excitement. His knee was shaking, his heart racing.

Nesta was going to fall in love with him all over again.

When he pulled into the gym parking lot, Azriel was sitting in the bed of his truck with Elain and a small, golden ball of fluff.

Cassian stopped the car, basically falling out of the door.

“You got him okay?” Cassian asked, in way of greeting. “No trouble?”

Elain laughed, softly. “No trouble. He’s all yours.”

Cassian took the puppy off of Azriel’s lap and put it against his chest.

“Hi, buddy,” he said, scratching behind his ear as the puppy leaned up and tried to lick his face. He laughed and clasped Azriel’s outstretched hand. He looked at Elain. “You’re sure about this?”

She nodded, grinning. “She’s always wanted one, she’s probably going to cry,”

“That’s not the goal, but as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.” He opened the passenger door and set the pup in a box he’d snuck out, with one of Nesta’s favorite blankets. He immediately burrowed down and snuggled into the blanket.

“Thank you,” Cassian said. “Really. Thank you for helping me.”

Elain just nodded before kissing Azriel on the cheek. “Well, go! Don’t stand here with us. Surprise your wife!”

Cassian laughed, plopping into the driver’s seat.

“Alright, pup. Let’s go surprise mama.”

He pulled his car into the garage and picked up the puppy. He poked his head into the house and listened, not hearing any noise. “Nes?”

Silence.

As he carried him inside, he let a small bark! out and Cassian shushed him as he scratched the back of his head. He nuzzled into his hand as he started up the stairs.

He found Nesta exactly where he’d left her, in bed, but she’d fallen asleep with her face buried into his pillow. He smiled as he carefully tiptoed around to his side of the bed and set the puppy down in front of her. He immediately walked to Nesta and began sniffing her, before nuzzling in between her arm and the bed and curling up.

The fur tickled her face and Nesta began to stir.

“Cassian,” she mumbled. “You really need to shave. Your beard got really soft, though.”

The puppy began licking Nesta’s cheek.

She scrunched her nose. “Your breath smells like shit.”

Her eyes slowly opened. Cassian hadn’t even realized that he was holding his breath.

She was looking up at him, but when another small lick brushed her chin, she gazed down.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “Cassian…”

“Not exactly the baby I hoped to give you, but I figured…”

He trailed off, watching as the puppy climbed on top of her.

He was wagging his tail wildly.

“He has no name,” Cassian continued. “It’s all you. Name him whatever you want.”

Nesta paused, looking down at the puppy who had begun squirming in her arms. “Milo,” she said.

Silver lined her eyes as she placed the puppy gently on the bed beside her and jumped off the bed, into Cassian’s arms.

He wrapped his arms around her bare body and pressed his mouth to hers, softly.

“I love you,” she breathed, clinging to him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, baby,” he whispered, setting her back on the bed. The puppy bounded over to them, immediately jumping on Nesta again, trying to lick her face.

Nesta laughed, the most mesmerizing sound that Cassian would ever hear, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Their little family may not be large, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t strong.

#nessian #tag team prompts #tag team oneshot #throne of ashes and beauty x tacmc collab #acotar #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian angst