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A Nessian drabble idea: Cassian waking up from anesthesia forgetting who Nesta is and is immediately starts flirting with her because she's so beautiful.
omg YES. this is so them thank you for sending this in I’ve always wanted to write one of these. I’ve also never had my wisdom teeth removed so sorry for any inaccuracies there LOL
Nesta had been hanging out in the waiting room for about an hour when someone finally called her name.
“Nesta Archeron?” one of the nurses called. Nesta quickly gathered her jacket and purse and got up to follow her.
“How’s he doing?” Nesta asked. Cassian had finally taken the plunge and gotten all four of his wisdom teeth removed in one go, and while Nesta knew this was a routine enough procedure, she was still a little antsy about her husband using anesthesia.
“It went well,” the nurse replied, leading Nesta into what looked like the outpatient area. “He’s recovering now. The anesthesia should be wearing off in the next few minutes if it hasn’t already.”
The nurse ran through a list of symptoms to watch out for and general tips to help Cassian’s healing process. Even though Nesta knew she’d be getting a thick packet with all these instructions, she still did her best to commit them to memory. This was her husband they were talking about; she wasn’t going to take any risks with him.
By the time the nurse finished explaining everything, they’d made it inside Cassian’s recovery room. He looked a little funny with his cheeks all swollen and a bandage wrapped around his face, but Nesta was too glad everything had gone well to really make fun of him.
That didn’t stop her from snapping a picture, though. Just because she didn’t intend to use it to tease him later didn’t mean she didn’t want one.
“Hey,” Nesta said softly as Cassian’s eyes fluttered open. “How are you feeling?”
“Hey,” Cassian said back, drawing out the word long and slow. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” she managed to reply without laughing. He was clearly still feeling the anesthesia, and she was going to enjoy him being loopy for as long as it lasted. “You ready to go home?”
“With you?” he asked, his face lighting up.
“Of course with me,” she responded with a fond roll of her eyes.
“It must be my lucky day,” he answered, trying to pull his lips into a smirk and failing miserably. “Going home with the most gorgeous woman in here.”
“We go home together every night, you idiot,” she told him with a huff of laughter. “We live together.”
“Then I guess it’s my lucky night every night,” he fired back, though some of the effect was lost by how drowsy he sounded.
Nesta and the nurse exchanged amused glances before they started to prep to get him out of there. Thankfully Cassian was still dressed, so they just had to get him to stand so he could sit back down again in the wheelchair.
“Come on, big guy,” Nesta said, pulling the blankets back from Cassian so he could get out the bed. “Time to come home with me.”
“But…” Cassian trailed off, his face twisting into the most adorable pout as he caught sight of her left hand. “You’re married.”
She stared at him a little incredulously. Was he fucking with her, or was this just the anesthesia? “Yes?”
“I’ve been flirting with a married woman,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to his face and immediately regretting it. “Oh, God, I’m a homewrecker.”
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath, trying and failing to hold back her laughter. She gently pulled his hands away from his face and tapped the matching gold band on his left hand before raising her voice to add, “Cassian, look. You’re married too.”
“That’s even worse,” he groaned once he noticed his own wedding band. “Holy fuck. I’m a homewrecker and a cheater.”
“No, you doofus,” she replied, still laughing. “We’re married to each other.”
Cassian’s face looked like Christmas had come early. “Really?”
“Really,” Nesta confirmed. “It’ll be six years this October.”
“Oh, wow,” he breathed, completely awed. He reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together with a dopey look on his face. “Let’s go home, then.”
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30 | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @fieldofdaisiies
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For the drabbles would you do Nesta and Cas on a picnic getting caught in the rain
UGH this one is so sweet like I knew exactly what I wanted to write the second you sent this. prepare for some sweet, adorable nessian
"We're almost there, I promise," Cassian said as he gently led Nesta across the open expanse of grass, making sure to take his time so his girlfriend didn't stumble on so much as a pebble before they arrived at their surprise picnic. "Ready?"
"I've been ready for half an hour," Nesta said back. Even with his hands over her eyes, he could tell when she was rolling them. "Can I look now?"
"Okay, okay, fine," he replied, moving his hands once they'd gotten to the little clearing. "Go ahead and look."
Nesta opened her eyes and blinked rapidly a few times to get used to the bright spring afternoon. Cassian was practically vibrating out of his skin waiting for her to react, and when she let out a surprised little gasp, he knew he'd done a good job.
"Cassian," Nesta said, a happy little smile already forming as she took in the picnic before her. Cassian hadn't told her anything about where they were going today, and although it had been a little stressful trying to set this up without her knowing, it had been more than worth it. "You didn't have to do all this for me."
“Of course I did, sweetheart,” Cassian replied, immensely satisfied at her reaction. He’d been planning this for almost two months, and watching everything go according to plan for once was nothing short of amazing. "You wanna sit down?"
They both kicked off their shoes and sat down on the big, checkered blanket. Nesta watched as Cassian opened one of the baskets and started doling out some fresh fruit, a huff of laughter escaping her at some of the shapes they'd been cut into.
"Did you do all this yourself?" Nesta asked as she popped a piece of heart-shaped watermelon into her mouth.
"I had a little help," Cassian admitted. He only had to strongarm his friends a little bit with helping set all this up; once they'd found out he was proposing today, pretty much everyone had been ready to lend a hand. "Mostly I had to talk Rhys out of trying to get a caterer."
"For a picnic?" she responded, snorting. "He's ridiculous."
"You know how he is," he answered with a fond roll of his own eyes. "You want something to drink?"
Cassian didn't let Nesta lift a finger as he laid out all the snacks and drinks he'd come prepared with. He'd been too nervous to break a glass to bring real champagne flutes, but Nesta didn't seem to mind that they were using plastic ones to drink their strawberry lemonade.
"I have another surprise for you," Cassian told her once he'd reached the bottom of the basket. Nesta looked over at him expectantly, letting out a pleased little laugh as he pulled out her Kindle and handed it over. "You're welcome."
"You know me too well," Nesta replied happily, reaching for the device with a smile. "I hope you brought something to do."
"Don't you worry about me," he responded. The ring box in his pocket was practically burning a hole through his shorts, but thankfully she hadn't realized it was there yet. "You want me to be your pillow?"
Nesta's hair was down today, so it took almost no time at all for them to maneuver into a comfortable position with her head in his lap. "Like you even have to ask."
Cassian started running his hands through Nesta's hair automatically, the two of them relaxing for nearly half an hour as she read through a couple chapters of her book. He could've sat there forever, the scene ridiculously peaceful in a way he hadn't ever thought would happen for him, but eventually, they both got a little hungry and dove back into the picnic basket for their sandwiches.
"This is a solid sandwich," Nesta commented once she was finished with hers. "Perks of living with a chef."
“I'm not a real chef," Cassian replied half-heartedly. They both knew how much he liked feeding her and she liked complimenting his cooking. "But thank you."
Cassian dug into his own sandwich just for something to do, but once he finished eating, he knew the time was now. There was no more putting it off.
"Nesta," Cassian said seriously, reaching for her hand. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest as their fingers intertwined; God, he hoped he'd be able to do this for the rest of their lives.
"Yes?" Nesta said back. She sat up and her eyes went a little wide, like she knew what was coming, and Cassian hoped he hadn't ruined the surprise just by the tone of his voice.
Right as Cassian was about to dive into his carefully crafted speech, there was an ominous rumbling coming from the sky. Nesta looked away from him and up to the clouds, frowning as she tried to figure out the direction the noise was coming from. "That doesn't sound good."
"No," Cassian replied testily, "it doesn't."
He'd checked the weather five times this morning before getting everything together. There hadn't been a hint of a weather alert, hardly even a cloud in the sky all day, and Mother Nature decided now was the time to start switching things up? Cassian knew there wasn't anyone he could punch right now, but Jesus did he wish he could.
"I'm sure it's further out than you think," Nesta tried to reassure him. She looked back at him with a smile before squeezing his hand. "What were you going to say?"
Cassian took a deep breath and prayed nothing was going to interrupt the most important moment of his life thus far. "You're the most important person in my life, and you make me want to be a better person every single day. I couldn't imagine my life without you, and I don't want to because I'm so in love with you. Nesta Rhea Archeron, will you marry me?"
Of course, his prayers weren't answered. The sky picked that second to suddenly open up and start pouring down rain, both of them yelping in shock. Cassian took one second to mentally curse out the universe and any god listening before springing into action, making sure he had the ring box safely in his possession before the two of them made a mad dash for cover.
“Holy shit," Nesta said once they were under the closest tree, both of them panting from running. "Where did that come from?"
"The weather, or...?" Cassian said back nervously.
She fixed him with an unimpressed look. "The weather, idiot. We've talked about getting married! Repeatedly!"
"Yeah, that makes way more sense," he replied after a few seconds. He patted his side to make sure he still had the ring box on him before sighing heavily. "This was supposed to be perfect."
“It doesn’t have to be perfect, Cassian,” Nesta told him, looking up at him through her wet lashes. “We’re together. That’s all I need.”
“Oh,” Cassian replied, feeling a little dumb. She deserved the world, and he wanted to give it to her, starting with what should have been the perfect proposal. “I just wanted—”
“I know, baby,” she gently interrupted him before reaching up for a kiss. It was a little colder and wetter than usual, but it was Nesta, so he didn't mind. "As long as you keep trying your best, that's all I need."
"I can do that," he responded, leaning down to steal another kiss from her. It was a little hard when they were both smiling so much, but they managed to make it work. "I love you."
"I love you too," she answered. She pulled back and fixed him with an expectant look. "Are you going to put that ring on my finger now?"
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30
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Sweater
for @throneofglassmicrofics prompt: "sweater," Elide x Lorcan
word count: 623
warnings: minor swearing
oopsies, it definitely isn't March yet, but this basically wrote itself while i was TRYING to read stuff for my capstone. so...enjoy!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Li, where's my socks?" Lorcan's yell echoed down the hallway.
Elide rolled her eyes as she pulled on her short boots. "In the dryer where your laundry still is, babe!"
"Dammit!" With a bout of muffled cursing and a series of thumps and grunts--her boyfriend was many things, but graceful was not one of them--Lorcan jogged down the hall and through the living room, stopping to openly admire his girlfriend's outfit before he ducked into the laundry room.
"You look amazing, shortcake."
"Don't call me that, you giraffe," she laughed, but the complaint was teasing. "Hurry up and get a shirt on, and we can go."
He nodded and went into the laundry room. The dryer door clanged open, he ruffled around for a moment, and there was a moment of quiet before he cracked open the door, scowling.
"Babe?" Elide went over to the laundry room. "Everything okay?"
"Fuck no," Lorcan grumbled.
She raised a brow. "You gonna tell me what's wrong, or are you gonna keep sulking like a kid?"
Slowly--very slowly--he pushed open the door. The scowl etched into his face would have made anyone else pee themself, but Elide knew her grumpy boyfriend too well to be dissuaded. She glanced over at him.
Then she looked for a good long minute, using all of her self-control not to burst out cackling.
"That's 100% wool, isn't it?" she managed to ask.
"Yeah." Lorcan's dark-gray sweater, which Elide loved to steal, clung to his wide shoulders and muscled arms, the fabric stretched nearly to its limit, and stopped just barely past his ribs, exposing the tattoos inked onto his side. "It is."
"Babe...you know you can ask me if you're not sure what to do with your clothes..."
"I didn't want to sound like an idiot," he admitted, his words muffled from him hiding his face in his hands. "And you can laugh, Li. I know you want to."
Elide wrapped her arms around Lorcan's firm, bare stomach and dissolved into laughter, her petite frame shaking against his much larger one. "I was trying not to, but oh my god."
He let loose a dry chuckle. "I know."
"If I had my phone on me, you'd never hear the end of this." She flashed him a wicked little smirk.
"God, no," he groaned. "Aelin is not fuckin' allowed to know about this."
"Don't worry, babe." Elide ran her fingers up her boyfriend's chest. "She won't." She grabbed the hem of Lorcan's horribly shrunken sweater. "C'mon, you still have to change."
Lorcan pulled off the sweater, tossing it to the floor, and pulled a thankfully still normal-sized shirt over his head. "You might as well take it," he said, "it's your size now, shortcake."
"Don't call me that," Elide retorted, her nose crinkling.
"Why not? You're tiny and cute, like a shortcake."
"And you're a big old softie." She winked at him as she reached down, picked up his sweater, and changed into it right in front of him. "It fits perfectly!" she exclaimed, doing a little spin.
"On second thought..." Lorcan's appreciative gaze lingered on the sight of Elide in his clothes.
"Oh no." She shook her finger in his face, trying to be as menacing as possible while pushing aside the way she wanted to climb into that look in his eyes. "We are not putting off this lunch; we haven't seen our whole friend group in months."
"Fine," he grumbled. "Just don't say anything about my sweater, Li."
"I would never," she promised, rising onto her tiptoes and tugging his head down to steal a kiss. "Love you, grouchy."
"Love you too, shortcake." He linked his fingers through hers as they walked out the door. "Especially in my clothes."
~~~ TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added or removed!
@live-the-fangirl-life
@superspiritfestival
@thegreyj
@wordsafterhours
@elentiyawhitethorn
@morganofthewildfire
@mariaofdoranelle
@rowanaelinn
@house-of-galathynius
@tomtenadia
@julemmaes
@swankii-art-teacher
@charlizeed
@booknerdproblems
@earthtolinds
@goddess-aelin
@sweet-but-stormy
@clea-nightingale
@autumnbabylon
@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell
@llyncooljones
@silentquartz
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Handprints and Good Grips
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happy last and final day of @sjmromanceweek, everyone! I couldn’t let this week go by without giving y’all some Nessian smut, so I hope this hits the spot 🤭 this one is a continuation of Take All of Me from SJM Romance Week 2023, but all you need to know about that one is Nessian didn’t make it out the house for their reservations.
I had such a blast putting this week together and seeing everyone's amazing contributions. I hope you enjoy today's fic and see you all very very soon for @nestaarcheronweek in April!!
Summary: Cassian and Nesta are absolutely, one hundred percent going to make it to their fancy dinner reservations this year.
At least… that was the intention. Again.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: smut lies ahead!
Read on AO3 here!
♡♡♡♡♡ Cassian
As Cassian fussed with his tie in front of the bedroom mirror, he couldn’t help but grin at his own reflection. He knew he looked good in his crisp, white button-up shirt and well-fitted black slacks, but his favorite accessory had to be the gold wedding band settled perfectly on his left hand.
Two years in, and he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of looking at it. 
They were supposed to celebrate their second wedding anniversary tonight, and for once they were actually moving according to schedule. Nesta was in the bathroom doing her hair and makeup while Cassian had been relegated to the bedroom, and they had about twenty minutes left before they needed to leave.
After they hadn’t even made it out the house last year, Nesta was even more hell-bent on making it to their reservation this time. If she could have it her way, she would’ve gotten ready elsewhere and just met Cassain at the restaurant just to cut down on the risk of what happened last year happening again. 
It made absolutely no sense to do that, though, so Cassian was treated to the sight of watching his wife get ready for a night out. Nesta was always stunning to him, but there was just something about watching her get all dolled up just for him that rubbed him exactly the right way.
Once Cassian finished messing with his tie in the mirror, he winked at himself before settling on the corner of the bed to wait for Nesta to come out of the bathroom again. It didn’t take long for her to make an appearance; as much as she liked to complain about him distracting her, they both knew how much she liked having his eyes on her.
When Nesta walked by him, Cassian couldn’t help but reach out and snake an arm around her waist. She was still in the robe she liked to wear when she was getting ready, the silky material perfect for running a hand across her ass. “Mhmm, you look so good.” 
“I’m not even dressed yet,” Nesta responded with a roll of her eyes. Her hair was still in rollers, but her makeup was mostly done, and Cassian was a little obsessed with the way her smoky eyeliner made her eyes look so blue. 
“I don’t see the problem with that,” he answered, still rubbing a hand across her ass. Was she wearing underwear right now, or were they so thin that he couldn’t feel them through the material of her robe? Either option would be good. 
“Don’t you start with me,” she told him, cutting off his train of thought with a flick to his forearm. She let him grab one last handful of her ass before she wiggled out of his grip entirely. “We are not canceling this reservation again. Do you understand me?”
“Uh huh,” he answered. His eyes were still glued to the way the fabric clung to her body, and he forced them back up to her face with an unrepentant smirk. “Perfectly, sweetheart.”
“Don’t you sweetheart me,” she warned him, fixing him with a highly unamused look. “I know exactly what you’re up to.”
“A man can’t appreciate his wife without being accused of ulterior motives?” he asked innocently. “What has this world come to?”
She just rolled her eyes before grabbing the earrings she’d been looking for and walking back toward the bathroom. He hated to see her go, but holy shit, did he love to watch her leave. “Save it, Cassian. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
Cassian headed toward the living room while he waited, deciding to at least try to be good while she finished getting ready. It didn’t take long for him to put on his shoes and grab their coats, and in a burst of foresight, he briefly ran outside and started warming the car up so they wouldn’t be freezing when they got outside. 
When Nesta sashayed out of their bedroom, she found Cassian holding her coat out to help her slide into it. “Hey. You ready to go?”
“Yeah. You look…” Cassian trailed off, trying and failing to come up with the right words to describe Nesta in her silky red dress and her bouncy curls and her smoky eyes. Her dress especially had his mouth falling open a little from the way the silky material clung to every curve, and the slit on the left side revealed just enough skin to make him go a little crazy. “God. I can’t even think of a good enough word right now, Nes.”
“A for effort, right?” Nesta replied with a smirk. Once her coat was on and she was facing him again, she didn’t hide the way she looked him over just as appreciatively. “You certainly cleaned up nicely.”
“I have to keep up with you, don’t I?” he fired back without missing a beat. 
“You can certainly try,” she retorted, still smirking a little bit. 
Nesta reached up and cupped Cassian’s face briefly, and he couldn’t stop himself from turning in to press a soft kiss to the inside of her palm. Her expression turned fond for a quick second before she grew serious.
“The only reason you’re driving is because I can’t with these shoes,” Nesta told him, motioning toward the car keys in his hand with a serious glare. God, she was so sexy when she scowled at him. “Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.”
“I can’t help it, sweetheart,” Cassian answered. He forced himself to step away from her so he could open the door for her, very much enjoying the way she stared him down the entire time. “You know what the glaring does to me.”
“Well, undo it,” she replied without missing a beat. After another long look, she finally sighed and moved toward the door. “We have places to be.”
They stepped outside into the cool February air and Cassian jogged ahead so he could open Nesta’s car door for her, too. She murmured a soft thank you as he offered his hand to get her up into the passenger seat, and he walked back toward the front door to make sure everything was locked before he got into the driver’s seat.
Once they were both strapped in and ready to go, Cassian pulled out of their driveway and put his hand on Nesta’s thigh as usual. He realized his mistake immediately after he felt all that bare, soft skin under his fingers — of course it was on the side where the slit in her dress was — but it seemed worse to pull away from her now. It was fine. He’d just… suffer in silence for the remaining twenty minutes of their car ride.  
“Ugh, it’s too quiet in here,” Nesta commented a few minutes into the drive. She shifted to reach for her phone and Cassian bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from thinking about how dangerously close his fingers had gotten to her panty line. Guess she was wearing underwear after all. “You like Reneé Rapp, right?”
“Whatever you want,” Cassian agreed, not even really hearing a word his wife said. He did like Reneé Rapp, but he didn’t process what Nesta said for at least another thirty seconds into the first song she’d queued up. “Oh. Yeah, I do like her.”
She just snorted. “Just focus on the road, baby.”
The next few minutes of their drive were uneventful until Cassian made his second mistake. He came to a stop at a red light and stole a quick glance over at Nesta… and managed to look right down the front of her dress. He’d picked the exact moment she leaned down to grab something out of her purse, revealing that she was not wearing a bra tonight. For those few seconds that she was bent over, every thought flew out of his mind other than how much her breasts were stretching the fabric of her dress and how perfect they would feel under his hands right now. 
Cassian didn’t come back to himself until the person behind him honked, and then he had to get himself together enough to start driving again. Stop thinking about Nesta’s tits, stop thinking about Nesta’s tits, stop thinking about Nesta’s tits…
“You alright?” Nesta asked from beside him. “The light’s green.”
“Yup,” Cassian answered, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strained as his pants were starting to feel. It turned out that telling himself to stop thinking about Nesta’s chest was the perfect way to only think about it, and his brain decided to be oh so helpful by playing his personal montage of favorite moments. Nesta at the pool last summer, Nesta fresh out of the shower, Nesta on her knees in front of him — Nesta, Nesta, Nesta. 
What was Cassian supposed to do? He was only a man, and one who was head over heels in love with Nesta. He only had but so much willpower, especially when she looked as good as she did right now. How the fuck was he supposed to make it through dinner and dessert when the only thing he wanted to eat was his beautiful wife?
Sighing heavily, he turned off the main avenue and got lucky a few minutes in finding a warning sign for a hidden road. Honestly, he was surprised he’d lasted as long as he did before giving in. 
“What are you doing?” Nesta asked, sounding deeply unamused. “The restaurant's the other way.”
“I know which way the restaurant is,” Cassian answered. He was practically white knuckling the steering wheel and it was a miracle it didn’t give under his grip. “We’re not making it.”
“Yes, we are,” she replied coolly. “Turn the car around.”
Cassian didn’t listen, instead continuing down the road until they were far enough that they probably wouldn’t be spotted. 
“Get in the backseat, Nesta,” Cassian told her once he’d parked the car and taken off his seatbelt. 
The unimpressed look on her face morphed into a glare so fierce it would’ve sent lesser men running for the hills. “Are you out of your mind? Keep driving, Cassian.”
“You have two choices,” he replied, turning to face her so he could reach out and grip the side of her neck. He wasn’t quite choking her, not yet, but it was more than enough to make her eyes go a little wide so he knew she was listening. “Either you get your pretty little ass in the backseat, or you get in my lap. Pick one.”
Cassian had never been more thankful to own an SUV as he watched Nesta sigh heavily, get out the car, and yank open the rear passenger door. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” he told her once they were both in the backseat. He was way too big for them to lie down, so she tossed her shoes in the front seat and climbed into his lap.
“Yeah, I do,” she insisted with a glare. He wondered how long it would take to make her eat her words this time. “I wanted to actually make it out this time!”
“Then why’d you wear this, huh?” he asked, pushing her coat off her shoulders so he could play with the straps of her dress. They were so thin it would be a miracle if he didn’t end up snapping one of them by accident. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. The effect was lessened by the way she was starting to breathe a little faster and lean into his touch. “I just—”
“You just what?” he cut her off. He pushed one strap off her shoulders and held back his smirk at the way she angled her other shoulder out. “Just wanted to push all my buttons so you could blame it on me?”
“No,” Nesta said, her eyes a little wide now. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Cassian said back. He reached up to push the other strap off her shoulder and was immensely satisfied when she swallowed thickly. “Letting me feel you up, bending over to flash me… you think I don’t know all the little games you like to play with me?”
“I wasn’t,” she tried to argue, but she wasn’t really trying all that hard.
“Yes, you were,” he told her. The top of her dress was slowly sliding down now that there wasn’t anything to hold it up anymore, but he refused to give into temptation until she begged for it. “If you just admit it, maybe you’ll get what you want.”
“I don’t want anything,” she lied through her teeth. The way she was trying to subtly lean forward and push her breasts into his face said otherwise, though. “I just wanted to go to dinner.”
“Why, so all those people could look at what’s mine?” He laughed, a little meanly, and goosebumps broke out across her skin. “We can probably still make the grace period. I’d love to bend you over the table and teach you a fucking lesson.”
Bingo. Nesta’s eyes went really wide at that, and Cassian decided to take a little pity on her. He reached up and dug a hand into her hair so he could pull her down for a kiss, and she moaned right into his mouth once their lips finally met. She opened up for him immediately and started rocking her hips against his, both of them breathing hard now that they were grinding together to the same rhythm as their tongues.
“Fuck, look at you,” Cassian breathed once he pulled Nesta back by her hair. She was making him a little — no, a lot — crazy by how wrecked she looked already, and that was only the beginning. He was going to ruin her. “Love when you get like this.”
“Cassian, come on,” Nesta replied, whining just a little bit. She was still rocking against his cock and it was taking all his concentration not to give in and move with her. “Stop fucking with me.”
“You were fucking with me first, sweetheart,” he retorted. He shifted his grip on her so he was holding tight to her hips, earning an annoyed sound as he stopped her from moving altogether. “Maybe if you’d owned up to that we wouldn’t be in this situation, now would we?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” she cut herself off with a frustrated huff. He wanted her unable to string her words together, so this was a good start. “Please.”
“Please what?” he asked, grinning up at her.
“Please,” she repeated. “Touch me, let me touch you, I don’t care, just— something, please. I can’t fucking take it.”
“Take my cock out,” Cassian demanded after a few moments. Nesta reached down and unbuckled his belt, moving fast to unzip his pants and wrap her hands around his hard length. “Come on, Nesta. I don’t have all day.”
He breathed a sigh of relief once he was finally free, but it quickly changed to a groan once she started stroking him. She knew exactly how he liked it, her grip on the perfect edge between pleasure and pain, and he let his head fall back against the seat while he watched her. One of her hands wasn’t enough to wrap fully around him, but they both liked how much bigger he was than her.
Cassian nearly lost it when Nesta brought two of her fingers to her lips to taste the precum leaking from the tip, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and get a goddamn grip. “That’s enough. Pull your dress up.”
Nesta released her fingers with a pop and reached down to yank at her dress, exposing the tiny scrap of red lace that was supposed to count for underwear. All the jostling made the top of her dress fall down even further, exposing her breasts to the warm air of the car, and Cassian tweaked one of her nipples roughly before pushing her underwear to the side and thrusting two fingers inside without warning.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, one of her hands reaching out to steady herself on his shoulders. She was so soaked he was surprised it hadn’t spread to the inside of her thighs. “Cassian…” 
“You must really want it,” he commented casually, like she wasn’t hot and tight around his fingers and practically begging for his cock. “Tell me how much you want it.”
“Please fuck me,” she pleaded without missing a beat. She started rocking against him and her grip on his shoulder turned near-painful as she dug her nails in. “Please, I need you so bad, I’ve been thinking about sitting on your cock all night—”
Cassian couldn’t take waiting anymore. Hewithdrew his fingers and brought them to Nesta’s lips, his cock throbbing as she tasted herself with a little groan. She licked his fingers clean and stared right at him as he slowly pulled them out of her mouth; if he hadn’t been so ready to fuck her, he would’ve put her on her knees right then and there.
It took a little manuevering, but they managed to get the angle right for Cassian’s cock to line up perfectly with Nesta’s entrance. They both moaned as she slowly slid down onto his cock, Cassian unable to make up his mind about whether he wanted to watch Nesta take him inch by inch or her face while she did. He chose to look at her face so he could catalogue every little sound that came out of her mouth until their hips were flush.
“So fucking perfect,” Cassian murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to Nesta’s neck. It was so warm inside the car now that her skin was a little slick with sweat, but he didn’t give a fuck. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Nesta said. He lived for these tender little moments just as much as he did the rough, dirty ones, and so did she. “But I thought you were gonna fuck me.”
Cassian shifted his grip so he had one hand on her hip and the other on her ass so he could smack one of her cheeks. “I never said that, sweetheart. Get a fucking move on.”
Nesta didn’t waste any time, reaching out with both hands to steady herself on Cassian’s shoulders as she started rocking back and forth. She started slow and eventually picked up more speed, the windows starting to really fog up now as she bounced on his cock. She felt like heaven wrapped around him and felt twice as good, but it was only a matter of time until he was going to take matters into his own hands.
Cassian shifted his legs as wide as he could with Nesta sitting astride him, moving the hand on her ass back to her other hip so he could move her up and down on his cock in time with his thrusts. 
“Jesus Christ,” Nesta panted, holding on for dear life as Cassian really started fucking her. “Ah — don’t stop, fuck, you feel so good—”
“Love how you take my cock,” Cassian grunted, thrusting up into her even faster now. Nesta tipped her head forward onto his shoulder so her next moan was quite literally music to his ears. “Love fucking your perfect pussy.”
“Oh my— fuck, I love it, love your cock,” Nesta whimpered between gasps for breath. 
He didn’t miss how one of her hands disappeared from his shoulder to sneak down between her legs. “You gonna make yourself come?”
“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” she moaned. He was fucking her so hard it was honestly impressive she could keep her fingers on her clit, but he wasn’t about to ask questions. “So close.”
“Let me see,” he told her, panting. He wasn’t far off from coming, either, but he always made sure she came first if he could help it. “Wanna watch you come on my cock—”
Nesta cursed loudly as she came, clenching down hard and milking him for everything he was worth. Cassian couldn’t stop his own climax even if he’d wanted to and went right over the edge with her, groaning as a wave of pleasure slammed into him.
They didn’t move for another few minutes so they could catch their breath. Nesta managed to crawl into the passenger seat without leaving the car, but Cassian had to put his cock away and open the car door to get back to the driver’s side.
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” Cassian said eventually. He rolled down the window to let some of the hot air out and let out a relieved sigh as the cold air started rolling in. “Maybe next year we’ll make it to the restaurant.”
Nesta pressed her lips together to hide her smile as she pulled out her phone, her fingers moving quickly to open the UberEats app. She hadn’t bothered to put her shoes back on and her dress was definitely on backwards, but she was still the most beautiful thing in the world to Cassian. “Happy anniversary to you too, baby, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Now… what do you want to order for dinner?”
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30
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Text
Valentine's Day Collection
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Main Masterlist | Collections Masterlist
*All fics listed within a collection are also on my masterlist for their particular fandom.*
Valentine’s Day Prompts
Valentine's Day
♥️💋♥️🎁♥️🌹♥️🥂♥️🍷♥️
Rowaelin
A Matching Set - Gift Exchange
Aelin and Rowan have different approaches to Valentine's Day gift-giving.
Sending My Love - Intoxication
“I’m not drunk. Could a drunk person do this?” / “You’re not doing anything.” / “But…I sent you my love. Did you…did you not get it?”
Fake Fiancé - Fake Proposals
Fake proposals at restaurants to get free food
♥️💋♥️🎁♥️🌹♥️🥂♥️🍷♥️
Elorcan
The One With The Unagi - Homemade Gifts
The Court (TOG x FRIENDS) Lorcan and Elide struggle to celebrate a belated Valentine’s day, while Aelin and Lysandra’s defense skills are put to the test to see if they have Unagi.
Candy Hearts - Candy Hearts
“A spells out something sexy/lewd in rose petals/candy hearts for B, but B comes home with unexpected guests.”
♥️💋♥️🎁♥️🌹♥️🥂♥️🍷♥️
Nessian
Hopeless Romantics - Valentines Date
“I guess you could say I’m a hopeless romantic.” / “I would have just stopped at hopeless.”
♥️💋♥️🎁♥️🌹♥️🥂♥️🍷♥️
Gwynriel
Lucky Lady - Surprise Gone Wrong
“Surpri—oh shit, you’re not…” / “Oh my god! What the hell? Where are your clothes?”
♥️💋♥️🎁♥️🌹♥️🥂♥️🍷♥️
Feysand
Batty for You - Be My Valentine
Prompts: “This sounds like a marriage proposal.” / “Maybe it is.” AND “That’s very sweet of you, but I’m allergic to flowers.”
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live-the-fangirl-life · 2 months
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meet me at the altar (in your white dress)
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happy day 3 of @sjmromanceweek everyone! of course I had to get some Nessian in here, you know me!! title from Let's Get Married by Jagged Edge (the remix is much better than the original IMO)
Summary: Nesta and Cassian elope to help take the edge off planning their big, official wedding.
Word Count: 3k
Read on AO3 here!
Summary: Nesta and Cassian elope to help take the edge off planning their big, official wedding. 
♡♡♡♡♡ Nesta
Nesta held in another scream as she clicked through yet another florist’s website, holding back the urge to start banging her head back against the wall. All she’d wanted was to come home from a long day at the office and relax, but instead of being able to destress with a book on her Kindle, she’d ended up dealing with more wedding stuff.
“You really should consider going with more hydrangeas,” her mother was saying. Rhea had called Nesta and essentially ambushed her with more wedding planning; today’s topic of choice was the floral arrangements. “I mean, what even is a ranunculus?”
“They’re a classic wedding flower, Mom,” Nesta replied through gritted teeth. She and Cassian had gotten engaged right before Christmas, and they were in the full swing of things planning wise. No matter how many times she emphasized that this was their wedding, though, it hadn’t stopped Rhea from being her usual, controlling self. “They look like peonies.”
Cassian appeared at the edge of her vision, his face twisted up adorably in sympathy as he came into their bedroom. He’d been as hands on as he could with wedding planning, but there was only so much he could do with Rhea as his future mother-in-law.
Cassian waved to get Nesta’s attention and once she looked over at him, he mouthed, You want me to give you an out?
Yes please, Nesta mouthed back. God, she loved him so much.
Nesta watched from her position on the bed as Cassian came around the corner of the mattress and reached for her nightstand, opening and shutting the drawer loud enough for Rhea to hear it on the phone. To the untrained ear, it sounded similar enough to a door opening and closing, and it was the perfect excuse to get off the phone and take her Friday night back.
“Sorry, Mom,” Nesta said immediately, cutting off whatever tangent Rhea was going on now about the flowers she’d had at her wedding. “Cassian just got home from work. I have to go.”
Rhea was silent for a few seconds. “Fine. I’ll speak to you about this later.”
“Okay. Have a good night,” Nesta replied. Rhea echoed the sentiment, and Nesta immediately tossed her phone away from her. “Holy shit, she drives me crazy.”
“Watching you deal with her is driving me crazy, Nes,” Cassian said. He leaned down to where she was reclining against the headboard and pressed several hello kisses into her lips. “What if we just got married tomorrow or something?”
“What?” Nesta said back, not quite sure she was hearing him correctly. She pulled back to look up at him, but he looked like he was being completely serious, which could not be a possibility right now.
“I said,” Cassian replied, speaking slowly to make sure she caught every word, “what if we just… got married tomorrow?”
She stared at him for several seconds without blinking. “You’re joking, right?”
“No jokes here, sweetheart,” he answered. He stood up to his full height before walking to the edge of the bed and sitting down, resting one of his warm hands on her ankle. “I feel like it would help.”
“How would throwing away months of planning help?” she responded, doing her best to stop her eye from twitching. Once they’d settled on a venue and secured their date, it had been divide and conquer between reaching out to caterers, bakers, florists, makeup and hair stylists, tailors – you name it, they’d talked to someone about pricing and dates and menu options and color schemes. 
“We wouldn’t be throwing away months of planning,” he told her. “I can be an idiot sometimes, but not that big of an idiot.”
“...Okay.” Nesta closed her laptop and gave him her full attention, hoping that he’d eventually tell her something that made sense instead of just confusing her further. “Explain what you mean then, because I don’t think I’m following you.”
“Just hear me out, okay?” Cassian asked. Once Nesta nodded her assent, he started rubbing gentle circles into the delicate skin of her ankle. “Maybe this is dumb, but I was just thinking… maybe it could help take the edge off things. I know your family is breathing down your neck about this being perfect, and I know how stressful this whole thing has been for you. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be us.”
God, he was good at this. He always knew exactly what to say to cut her to the core in the best way, and his words combined with the way those hazel eyes were trained on her made her want to give in immediately. Even though they would be surrounded by loved ones when they got married, something in her had always cringed at the fact that they’d be putting their relationship on display for everyone to see. She loved Cassian, she did, but the idea of having a wedding as big as theirs was shaping up to be felt almost performative. 
If they did what he was suggesting, there wouldn’t be anything performative about it. It would be something for just them; they wouldn’t have to go through any of the hoops that their huge, ornate ceremony was shaping up to entail. Just her, Cassian, and whoever they needed to talk to for it to be official.
“Yeah,” Nesta eventually answered, suddenly fighting back tears at how well he knew her. Even after all these years with him, he still managed to catch her off guard with how thoughtful he was. “
“Yeah?” Cassian echoed. He started to smile and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. “Let’s do it.”
♡♡♡♡♡
Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to sort everything out. Cassian booked a hotel for the weekend in Atlantic City while Nesta dug around for a white dress in her closet, and by the time she’d found a suitable enough option, he’d also started the process to get a marriage license.
“It doesn’t take that long to get a New Jersey marriage license,” he told her as they packed their bags for the weekend. “I mean, we’ll still have to sort out the paperwork for when we get married again, but that’s a problem for future us.”
“Okay,” she replied, feeling much lighter now that the pressure for their huge ceremony was suddenly off her shoulders. “We’ll figure it out then.”
It didn’t take them much longer to finish packing, and before Nesta knew it, they were in the car and on their way to Atlantic City. It wasn’t far – roughly two and a half hours – but they stopped for dinner along the way, so they made their way into the hotel lobby about three hours later. The air conditioning was going strong, and Nesta didn’t hesitate before leaning against Cassian’s warm side while they checked into their room.
“You want my jacket?” Cassian asked once they were all squared away and heading to the elevators.
“No, I’m okay,” Nesta answered, leaning into him again while they waited for the elevator to come to the lobby. Besides, he was holding both of their bags; she wasn’t going to make him essentially play Tetris with them to get the damn thing off. “We can just turn the AC down when we get upstairs.”
Their hotel room had all the usual accommodations, including a king-sized bed, and they both showered and changed into pajamas before getting into it. Cassian made sure their room was locked up tight and the AC wasn’t blasting before they got into bed, but even though it wasn’t as cold in the room anymore that didn’t stop Nesta from cuddling up to her fiancé.
“Thanks for going along with my crazy idea, Nes,” Cassian said into the quiet darkness of their room.
“It wasn’t that crazy once you explained it,” Nesta replied softly, reaching up and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “But you’re welcome.”
He just laughed softly, the sound of it vibrating gently against her cheek where she was laying on him. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby. See you in the morning.”
♡♡♡♡♡
Nesta woke up the next morning wrapped around one of the hotel pillows instead of around her husband-to-be. She experienced a brief moment of panic once she realized she was alone in the room, but it quickly dissipated once she recognized Cassian’s familiar handwriting on one of the hotel’s notepads. She reached for it where he’d left it on the end table and quickly scanned the note he’d left her.
Hey sweetheart, he’d written. Don’t freak out, but it’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day, and I’m all about avoiding bad luck. Everything else is getting taken care of (I promise!!) so you just have to bring your gorgeous self to the altar. 
Love you
xoxo,
Cassian (aka your future husband)
Nesta laughed softly to herself as she set the note aside, her heart rate immediately slowing down after she’d read it through a few times. Cassian knew how tired she was of making so many wedding-related decisions and it was such a relief to not have to make any more — for the moment, anywhere. Even if they weren’t doing things the ‘right’ way, he was still looking out for all the little details, and it was stuff like that that made her want to fall in love with him all over again. 
Lucky for her, she’d get to fall in love with him every day for the rest of their lives. 
Nesta let herself lounge in bed for a few more minutes until she couldn’t wait any longer. She took her time getting ready, the hot water from the surprisingly strong shower head waking her all the way up, and she was thankful she’d packed her good blow dryer after she realized the hotel one wasn’t up for the task. Cassian had always loved her hair down, so she carefully smoothed half of it up and left the other half down. 
By the time she finished with her makeup and got dressed, it was almost time to go. She put on her wedges and threw the essentials — lip gloss, powder, room key, phone — into her purse before heading downstairs. She’d missed breakfast, but she managed to snag some Pop Tarts from the convenience store while she waited for her Uber. 
It was a quick ride to the hotel where they were getting married, and Nesta just followed the signs for the wedding area until she found a woman holding a sign with her name on it. She was tall, with dark hair and light brown skin that looked amazing even under the strange hotel lighting.
“Hi,” Nesta said, walking right up to her. “I’m Nesta.”
The woman perked up immediately. “Great! I’m Deirdre, I’ll be officiating the wedding. Cassian handled pretty much everything he could without you, so all you have to do is follow me.”
“Great,” Nesta replied. Her love for Cassian grew even more once she heard she’d hardly have to do anything. “Lead the way.”
Deirdre and Nesta wound their way through the halls, making small talk until they ended up in one of the back rooms. Nesta picked out a small bouquet of lilies, a short veil to wear as she walked down the aisle, and signed some forms. 
“You’re all set,” Deirdre told her once the last thing was signed. “Cassian said he had the rings, so really you just have to get your beautiful self out there and we can get this show on the road.”
“Okay,” Nesta agreed. She wondered if Cassian was using their actual wedding rings, or if he’d found a less expensive replacement for today. Oh well — she didn’t need to worry about it right now, and wasn’t that a relief. “I’m ready.”
Deirdre clapped her hands together and led Nesta through a different path through the halls, the two of them coming to a stop in front of what looked like a chapel. “I’ll go in first, make sure everything’s ready, and then once the music starts you can come in whenever you want. Okay?”
“Sounds good,” Nesta told her, and then she was alone. 
Nesta took a few deep breaths while she waited for Deirdre’s signal. Maybe if it had been anyone else, she might have been more nervous, but it was Cassian waiting for her. How could she feel anything but excited when they were only a few minutes away from forever?
The music started earlier than Nesta had been expecting, but she took it in stride. She squared her shoulders and walked through the door with her head held high, something inside her settling the second she laid eyes on Cassian. He looked handsome as always, dressed in a white button-up shirt and his nicest pair of jeans, and she could tell he was already crying even from across the room. 
There were a few people seated amongst the pews to serve as witnesses, but Nesta tuned out everyone that wasn’t Cassian. The walk down the aisle was simultaneously too long and too short, and suddenly she was handing over her bouquet so she could grip Cassian’s hands in hers. “Hi.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Cassian said, his eyes a little wide. “You look so beautiful.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Nesta said back. She squeezed his hands to help steady them both before turning to Deirdre with an expectant look. “We’re ready.”
Deidre must have gone through all the usual wedding talk, but all Nesta heard was that she and Cassian were promising themselves to one another. Good days and bad, they’d show up for each other no matter what, no matter what kind of fancy ways people wanted to describe it. 
Before Nesta knew it, it was time for the vows. Deirdre turned to her expectantly, and she nodded before she took a deep breath. 
“Cassian,” Nesta started, her eyes tearing up at the force of what she felt for him. They’d both promised to not prepare anything — something about it coming from the heart — and part of her wished she had, just for the sheer difficulty of describing what he meant to her. “You’re the love of my life. My best friend in the entire world. You know me better than anyone else, and I’m so — I’m so thankful to have you. You make me so happy even when you’re being a bastard and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She took another deep breath to steady herself, shooting Cassian a watery smile as he reached up to wipe some of her tears. “You’re the one I want to laugh with and argue with and spend all my time with until we’re old and gray. I promise to choose you every day, no matter what. I love the life we’ve made so much, and I promise to fight for us for the rest of our lives. I love you, Cassian. So much.”
“Jesus, how am I supposed to follow that up,” Cassian muttered to himself. 
Nesta laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Nes.” He took a deep breath of his own and met her eyes again. “Nesta, I knew from the minute I met you that you were special. Maybe it’s cheesy, but from that very first glare, I knew I’d be chasing after your attention for the rest of our lives. I’ve never been so happy to be right.”
“You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. You’ve made my life better in so many ways, and I’ll never stop thanking the universe for putting us in each other’s lives. You’re an amazing woman and the fact that you chose me — well. I’ll never take that for granted. It physically hurts me when we’re apart, so the fact that you’re agreeing to be tied to me forever makes me feel pretty damn good. I promise to choose you every single day, to always respect you and cherish you and all the other things that you deserve. I love you so, so much, Nesta. You’re my world.”
They were both crying now, and Nesta squeezed Cassian’s hands so hard it was a miracle he didn’t lose circulation. She swore she could feel the thread that connected them wrap around them even tighter; there was no telling where one of them began and the other one ended. It was just them, and it was beautiful.
“Those were wonderful,” Deirdre told them. “Now, the rings.”
It seemed Cassian had brought out their wedding bands early after all. Both of their hands were shaking as they exchanged rings, but they managed to get through it without dropping anything or putting their rings on the wrong fingers. 
“With that…” Deirdre took a deep breath and beamed at them. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. Nesta barely had any warning before he was grabbing her and dipping her, but he was so strong that she didn’t think he’d drop her for a second. She just threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, clutching him to her as tightly as she could and not planning on letting go for a good long while.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Deirdre said, smiling brightly. “Congratulations!”
“Thanks,” Cassian said with a wide grin once he’d brought Nesta back up. He was so beautiful when he was happy, and part of her still couldn’t believe she was the one to consistently put that smile on his face. “Hey, wife.”
“Hey, husband,” Nesta said back, smiling just as widely as he was. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Like you even have to ask,” he told her. He offered his hand and she took it without hesitation, squeezing tightly as they made their way back down the aisle.
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30
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live-the-fangirl-life · 5 months
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Would you want to write a fluffy cuddlefuck when they start off spooning but it gets rough fast for nessian
hope you enjoy 🤪 5 days of kinktober left folks!!
“You want to take a nap with me?”
Cassian paused the new Spider-Man game and looked away from the TV, his heart automatically melting at the sight of his girlfriend looking adorably cozy. Nesta was wearing one of his old college football shirts and no pants, but it was so big on her she didn’t need them. He loved seeing her in his clothes, especially when she looked as soft as she did with all her defenses lowered just for him.
“Right now?” Cassian asked.
“You can finish your level first, if you want,” she replied with a little shrug. “I can wait.”
“Give me like ten minutes,” he told her, not quite ready to stop playing but also not wanting to miss out on a chance to snuggle up to her. “I’ll come find you.”
She smiled at him. “Okay.”
Cassian gave himself another few minutes to finish his latest mission in the game before he shut down his PlayStation and went to find Nesta. She was curled up on her side of the bed under a thick blanket, her hair loosely pulled into two braids so it didn’t get tangled while she slept.
“You look cozy,” he said, shrugging out of everything except his underwear. Saturdays were for lounging around the house in pajamas, but he’d always liked cuddling with her in as little clothing as possible.
“That’s what happens when you’re tired,” she said back. Her eyes opened just enough to send him a sleepy glare, one that he returned with a sunny smile. “Come on, I want to be the little spoon.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he replied playfully. He pulled the blanket back just enough for him to slip under it, his arms automatically pulling her as close as possible so they were pressed back to front. “Mhmm. You’re nice and warm.”
“I’ve been under here for a little,” she answered, her voice already slow and syrupy.
Cassian leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of Nesta’s throat, deeply content with nuzzling his face into her soft skin. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” Nesta mumbled, burrowing her face deeper into her pillow.
They laid in silence for a few minutes, Cassian thoroughly enjoying the way their breathing began to line up. He loved that he could hold Nesta close and just be. She felt so perfect in his arms that he wondered how he’d gotten by without having her there all those years before they’d met.
As content as he was to just lay here and drift off to sleep, though, it seemed his body had other plans.
“Nes,” Cassian whispered, hoping that she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. His dick had a near-Pavlovian response at having her so close and had taken a strong, sudden interest in his current predicament. “You still awake?”
“Mhmm?” Nesta mumbled back.
Thank God she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. “You wanna fool around?”
“What?” she asked, stirring a little in his arms. He had to bite back at moan as she inadvertently rubbed against his quickly-hardening cock.
“Please?” he replied. He shifted the arm wrapped solidly around her waist so he could start rubbing aimless patterns into her stomach, and if his hand happened to brush the undersides of her breasts, it was a happy accident. “Just the tip?”
“What are we, fourteen?” she fired back. She inhaled sharply as his fingers brushed over her a hard nipple. “If you want something, ask for it properly.”
“Please let me fuck you,” he responded, starting to press wet, open-mouthed kisses to the side of her throat. If she really wanted to take her nap he’d fuck right off, but he had a feeling they were both about to get lucky. “I’ll do all the work. Promise.”
Nesta let him feel her up for a few more seconds before she turned over her shoulder and kissed him, her tongue hot and insistent against his. “Fine. But I’m getting my nap after this or else.”
“I’ll put you to sleep, sweetheart,” Cassian promised smugly. He leaned in for another filthy kiss and rocked his hips against hers, a promise of exactly what was to come. “How do you want it?”
“I thought you were doing all the work,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes.
“I can’t ask a question?” he fired back. “You must want it hard with all that attitude, hmm?”
Nesta turned back around, her head hitting her pillow with an exaggerated huff. “Whatever you say.”
“Brat,” Cassian teased affectionately, reaching down to tug at her underwear. “You gonna help me get these off you?”
“I guess,” she replied. Between her wiggling hips and his eager hands, the two of them managed to get her underwear off.
His hand slipped between her legs and found her clit with practiced ease, his cock practically throbbing as he discovered how wet she was. “All this for me, sweetheart?”
“I don’t see anyone else aro — oh,” she answered, her moan cutting off her snarky reply.
“What did you say?” he asked a touch too innocently. Even though she couldn’t see it, he couldn’t help his smirk. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“Fuck you,” she panted, grinding against his fingers.
“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he said. He shifted his fingers lower and plunged one inside her, then two. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
“I’d be even wetter if you put your cock where it belonged already,” she said back, rocking against his fingers with a gasp. “Any — oh, fuck, Cassian — any day now.”
“Thought you wanted to nap,” Cassian replied. He pulled out his fingers and she automatically lifted her left leg to give him better access; they’d fucked like this so many times neither of them had to really think about how to move their bodies accordingly.
Nesta was practically panting as he took his cock out through the hole in his boxers and rubbed it against her cunt from behind. “Please don’t make me beg.”
“Why not? It’s my favorite thing to make that pretty little mouth do,” he told her cheekily. He quickly amended himself, adding, “Well. My second favorite thing.”
“This was your idea,” she retorted, reaching down to help guide his cock to her entrance.
“You’re thinking way too hard right now, sweetheart.” Cassian groaned as he finally got the angle right and thrusted inside Nesta, her little gasp like music to his ears. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Move, move, come on,” Nesta demanded breathily. “Cassian.”
As much as he liked to tease her, she felt too good around him for him to stay still. He grabbed her leg behind her knee and used it as leverage to fuck into her, already half out of his mind with how tight and hot and wet her cunt was around him.
“Thought you didn’t want to beg,” he replied, pulling out almost completely before slamming back in.
“Can’t help it,” she answered. One of her hands dipped between her legs and he wished he could watch her play with herself, but there were only so many things he could do at once. “You make me fucking insane.”
“Yeah?” he panted, a little out of breath from the hard pace he’d set. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Tell me,” she responded. Her breath was coming hard and fast now, and from the way they were rocking together, he knew it wouldn’t be much longer for either of them.
“You’re all I think about,” he started, all his favorite things about her flashing through his mind like a greatest hits montage. Her smile, her laugh, the way she looked in his favorite lingerie, how his name sounded coming out of her mouth. He loved her so much it hurt, but this wasn’t the time to turn into a giant sap. “You’re a giant fucking tease, Nes. You know how much I think about your perfect cunt? How good you look taking my cock?”
“Oh, fuck,” Nesta moaned.
Cassian wasn’t finished, his words running together as he thrusted in and out of her as hard and fast as he could. “Wish I could just bend you over whenever I wanted and make you take it—”
Nesta cried out and clenched hard around Cassian as she came, and the feeling of her coming on his cock yanked him right over the edge with her. He buried himself to the hilt as his orgasm hit him, leaning forward and sucking a hickey into the closest bit of skin he could reach, some primal urge demanding he mark her as his.
“Just the tip, he said,” Nesta grumbled after a few minutes. She was still laying on her side while he’d rolled onto his back, both of them still catching their breath. “I can’t stand you.”
“Isn’t that why you’re lying down?” Cassian asked cheekily.
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live-the-fangirl-life · 5 months
Note
Hair pulling / rough sex for nessian!
send help I’m addicted to writing mean and possessive Cassian and it’s all @dustjacketmusings and @c-e-d-dreamer’s faults
When Nesta finally got home from her work gala, Cassian was up waiting for her. She hadn’t been able to get a plus one for tonight, so when he’d gotten home from the gym, their apartment had been far too quiet for his liking.
“Hey baby,” she greeted him with a soft smile as she walked into their bedroom.
“Hey,” he replied, unable to take his eyes off her. He’d been relaxing on top of the covers, the ends of his hair still a little damp from his post-gym shower, but the sight of her had him sitting all the way up. “Woah.”
Nesta looked absolutely stunning in her dark blue dress and matching heels. She’d smoothed her hair back into a neat chignon, and the combination of her dress’ sweetheart neckline and her hair being pulled up was really doing it for him. The dress made her eyes look even bluer than usual, and he was torn between wanting to peel it off her or watching her walk around in it for a little longer.
Cassian hadn’t gotten a chance to see her in person before she’d left for her gala, and he knew right away that if he’d caught a glimpse of her beforehand, there was no way he would’ve let her out the house looking like that.
Now that Nesta was finally home, though… Cassian couldn’t wait to ruin her.
“How was your night?” Nesta asked, completely unaware of the direction Cassian’s thoughts had taken. She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief before moving onto her earrings, turning to look at him with one brow raised when he didn’t answer her right away. “Cassian?”
“It was fine,” Cassian eventually answered with a lightness he didn’t quite feel. He was far too busy thinking about all the ways he was going to make her beg for his cock. “How was yours?”
“It was fine,” she replied slowly. She placed her earrings up in her jewelry organizer, caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror hanging above the dresser, and frowned a little. “Are you okay?”
“Am I supposed to be okay with knowing you got all dressed up for other people to look at you?” he asked. He made a point of trailing his eyes over her slowly, from the top of her golden-brown head to the bottom of her tights-clad feet.
Nesta visibly swallowed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she realized what game they were playing. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“No?” Cassian asked, getting off the bed so he could come stand behind her. “Which part of that was confusing for you, sweetheart?”
“I don’t care about other people looking at me,” she answered. She inhaled sharply as he pressed himself against her, letting her feel the way his cock was already starting to harden. “I just care about you.”
“So other people were looking at you,” he replied, focusing on the first half of what she’d said even though the second half made him want to smile. This game of theirs wasn’t much for smiling, though, so he shoved it down. “Was it fun?”
“No,” she denied immediately.
“No?” he repeated. He was picking up steam now, and it probably wouldn’t be much longer until he got to take her apart. “It wasn’t fun having every man in the room panting over you?”
“Nobody was panting,” she insisted. “I mean, a few guys tried to flirt with me, but I didn’t—”
“What,” Cassian said flatly. He played up his possessive streak when they did this, but the thought of some guy trying to talk to Nesta when he wasn’t around made his blood boil. “What did you just say?”
Nesta’s breathing picked up. “I didn’t — I told them all to fuck off. I promise.”
“You didn’t tell everyone you were taken?” he asked. “That you already belonged to somebody?”
“It was a work event,” she countered.
“Yeah,” he told her. “You probably couldn’t tell them that you’re mine.”
“No,” she breathed.
Cassian pressed in even closer, really grinding his hips into the curve of her ass now. “I guess it’d be unprofessional to say that I own you, right?”
“A little,” Nesta said, her voice hesitant as she tried to work out where he was leading her.
“But it wouldn’t be wrong to say,” he said back. His right hand let go of the dresser in favor of creeping up to wrap around her throat. “Would it?”
“No.” Her heart was beating fast where his thumb was pressed against her pulse. “I’m yours.”
“Say it again,” he demanded.
“I’m yours,” she repeated back to him, the sound like music to his ears. “Only yours.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” he told her serenely. “But a little reminder never hurt anyone, did it?”
Cassian gave Nesta’s throat one last squeeze before he took a step back from her warm body. He yanked up the hem of her dress, exposing the thin material of her tights and the dark color of her underwear underneath them, and made quick work of removing every barrier between his mouth and her cunt. From there, it was easy to press a hand to her shoulders and bend her over the dresser. She was so gorgeous bent over like that that he almost said fuck it and stuffed her full of his cock, but she was even more beautiful when he’d made her come first, so he decided to stick with his original plan.
“Oh, fuck,” Nesta moaned as Cassian spread her legs apart, sank to the floor, and buried his face between her legs. “Oh my God.”
Cassian groaned right back, the taste of her nearly overwhelming him. He’d been thinking about this from the moment he’d gotten home, and if it were up to him, he’d let her sit on his face and use him to come any time she wanted.
It wasn’t always up to him, but right now, it absolutely was.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he told her, pulling his mouth away so he could slide a finger inside her instead. “And all mine.”
Nesta rocked her hips back, silently demanding more, and Cassian was more than happy to give her what she wanted. He added another finger and had to bite down on the inside of his cheek as he watched her take it, his cock so hard now it was almost painful. She was always beautiful, but watching her take any part of him — his fingers, his tongue, his cock — would always make him go a little crazier than anything else.
“God, Cassian,” Nesta moaned as she writhed above him. “Love you, love your fingers, feel so good—”
Cassian knew Nesta’s body almost as well as he knew his own, and he’d gotten her off this way so many times that he knew what all those delicious, choked-off whimpers meant. He didn’t dare change what he was doing, not when she was this close to the edge, and continued to suck at her
Nesta cried out loudly as she came, her body tensing as her orgasm swept over her. Cassian couldn’t see her face in the mirror from where he was kneeling, but hearing her moan and whimper through it was almost as good. His tongue didn’t stop until she reached around and swatted at his head, and he gave her clit one last flick of his tongue before he pulled away.
“What’s your color?” Cassian asked once he’d stood up. Nesta was still bent over and her head was tucked into her arms, so he leaned closer to her ear to make sure she could hear him. “Sweetheart?”
“I’m so fucking green right now,” came Nesta’s muffled reply.
“There’s my good girl,” he replied, the praise rolling easily off his tongue. “You ready to keep being good?”
“Yes,” she answered. She finally raised her head up and he was pleased to see her mascara was a little smudged around the edges. “I’ll always be your good girl.”
“That’s right,” he agreed, sneaking a kiss to the side of her temple before standing back up. She tried to follow him up, but he pressed a hand to her back to keep her bent over. “Did I tell you to move?”
“No,” she breathed. He knew how much she loved when he manhandled her, and he wasn’t about to let her mess up the fun. “I’m sorry.”
“I move you when you need to move,” he told her, moving his hand off her back so he could untie the loose pants he’d been wearing. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, so his cock bobbed freely in the air once his pants were off. “You understand?”
Nesta nodded furiously, the motion dislodging some of the pins in her hair. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry.”
Cassian had been ready to fuck Nesta’s brains out, but he paused when he realized her hair must have been killing her. He reached out and pulled pins out at random until her hair fell around her shoulders, her sigh of relief proving his guess right.
“Much better,” he said, giving her scalp a quick scratch before he dropped the pins into a random container on their dresser. They could sort that out later; he had other, much more important plans right now.
Nesta sucked in a breath to speak, presumably to thank him for letting her hair down, but Cassian stole the words right out of her mouth. Whatever she was going to say was swallowed by a shocked little gasp when he rubbed his cock against her cunt and slowly thrusted inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” Cassian groaned as his cock was enveloped in Nesta’s tight heat. They’d had a lot of sex over the years, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she fit perfectly around his cock. “So perfect.”
“Been thinking about this all night,” Nesta moaned from below him. “Feels so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” he asked, using his free hand to grip her hip as he began a steady rhythm. She was still mostly dressed, so he had to slide under the fabric of her hiked-up dress to get a hand on her bare skin. “Were you thinking about me when those motherfuckers were trying to flirt with you?”
“I only think about you,” she answered breathily. “Nobody else can — oh, fuck, baby — fuck me like you.”
“Nobody else,” he agreed. He shifted the hand on her back higher so that he was holding the back of her neck, and the force of his thrusts made her shift a little onto her toes. “I’m the only one who can give this needy little pussy what it needs.”
“Because it’s yours,” she replied, moaning as she tried to arch her back for an even deeper angle. “I’m yours, everything is yours—”
Nesta knew every single button of his to push, and Cassian loved her for it. It made him want to see her face that much more, so he stopped pushing down on her back and moved his hand upwards until her hair was in reach.
“Look at me,” Cassian demanded, wrapping hand around the bronze curtain of her hair and pulling.
Nesta gasped as her head was suddenly yanked up, her eyes wide as she met his gaze in the mirror. “Cassian!”
“Every noise out of your pretty little mouth,” he growled, fucking her hard and fast now, “is mine. You understand?”
“Yes, yes, fuck,” she agreed, panting. She looked absolutely debauched and he loved it. “I’m yours, I told you, nobody else—”
Cassian’s orgasm hit him so strongly and so suddenly it was a miracle his knees didn’t buckle. He pulled Nesta as close as humanly possible and thrusted hard, grinding his cock as deeply into her as he could while pleasure washed over him.
“Love you so much, sweetheart,” Cassian panted into her ear the second he could speak again. He gently untangled his hand from her hair and pressed a series of kisses to the side of her face, already switching into take care of Nesta mode. “You okay?”
“Mhmm,” Nesta eventually responded, her eyes fluttering shut. “So good. Love you too.”
He chuckled softly to himself before gently pulling out. “Come on, Nes. Let’s get you into the shower.”
“How was your gala, anyway?” Cassian asked after they’d showered, put on fresh pajamas, and gotten into bed. He looked at her with a cheeky grin before adding, “I promise I’m actually listening this time.”
Nesta stared at him for a few moments before fondly rolling her eyes. “It was fine. Thanks for asking.”
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen
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live-the-fangirl-life · 6 months
Note
Professor cassian and student nesta smut?
hope you don't mind that it's just ~roleplay~
accepting kinktober prompts all october long! any acotar couples i've written for are fair game (not just nessian, although I certainly love wrting those freaks getting freaky)
Cassian had asked Nesta to give him a few minutes to set their office up for today’s game, which mostly involved putting one of their dining room chairs in front of his desk and making sure the curtains were firmly shut.
The neighbors certainly didn’t need to catch a glimpse of whatever was going to happen in here.
There wasn’t really much else for him to do other than twiddle his thumbs, so Cassian took a seat behind his desk. Just as he got comfortable, a knock sounded on the door, and he didn’t fight his smile at Nesta’s punctuality. He’d said ten minutes, and that was exactly what she’d given him.
"Come in," Cassian called. He pretended to shuffle some papers around just for something to do with his hands as his girlfriend opened the door, and then he was gripping the pages so tightly he half-worried he was going to rip something.
Nesta had gone for the stereotypical schoolgirl outfit, complete with a white buttoned-up shirt, tiny plaid skirt, and even a little matching plaid tie. Her legs looked long and muscular and Cassian wanted them wrapped around him even more than usual, which was saying something.
"Professor," Nesta greeted him after a moment, leaning against the doorframe with an innocent look on her face. Her skirt was so short it was a miracle he couldn't see her underwear. "You wanted to see me, sir?"
Cassian took a deep breath so he wouldn't lose it right there. "Yes, I did. Have a seat, Miss Archeron."
"Okay." Nesta closed the door behind her and slid into the chair facing his desk. "Did I do something wrong, sir?"
"You failed your last test," he told her, running with the first thing that popped into his brain. She'd graduated summa cum laude from both undergrad and law school, so it was probably the first time she'd ever heard the words before. "At the rate you're going, you won't pass my class."
"Oh no," she replied with overexaggerated concern. To really sell it, she gave him a little frown and added, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?"
"At this point?” he answered, pretending to think about it for a few seconds before releasing a heavy sigh. “I’m not sure there’s anything to be done.”
"I need this class to graduate, sir,” Nesta said pleadingly. She leaned forward and shifted her weight onto her elbows, the motion stretching her already-tight shirt nearly to the point of no return. “Is there really nothing I can do?”
“Well…” he trailed off with another sigh. “I suppose there might be an opportunity for extra credit.”
“I’ll do anything,” she told him, her eyes going big and pleading. He loved her when she was all sharp edges, but he wouldn’t lie — this was really doing it for him, too. “Please?”
“This has to stay between us, Miss Archeron,” he responded. “I can’t have the other students finding out about any… preferential treatment. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed quickly. “I’m good at keeping my mouth full — I mean, shut.”
“Is that so?” Cassian asked, smirking. He’d mostly been thinking about bending her over the desk and fucking her until she cried, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity she’d handed him. “Why don’t you come over here and prove it?”
Nesta got out of her chair and slowly walked around the corner of the desk, giving Cassian more than enough time to appreciate how beautiful she was. She’d left her hair down for once instead of her usual coronet, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was so he could dig his hands in while he fucked her face.
She was thoughtful like that. It was one of the many reasons why he loved her.
“How do you want me, sir?” Nesta asked, coming to a stop right next to him.
Cassian turned in his chair so he was facing her, pressing one of his hands to her bare thigh. Her skin was soft and a little cool as usual, and right on cue, she shivered at the heat pouring off him. “On your knees.”
He inhaled sharply as she sunk to her knees, somehow managing not to break eye contact as she reached for the zipper on his pants. He couldn’t help his groan as she took him out of his pants and gave him a quick stroke, and when she ran her thumb across the head he couldn’t help another, louder groan.
“How bad do you want to pass, sweetheart?” Cassian asked, his cock hard and hot in her hand.
“A lot, sir,” Nesta answered. She blinked up at him before letting go of his cock so she could unbutton her shirt, revealing a dark red bra that emphasized the perfect size of her breasts. “Can I show you?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, reaching out to gather her hair into a messy ponytail. “If you do a good enough job… maybe you’ll pass my class after all.”
“Anything for an A,” she replied. She pulled his pants down lower for better access and returned her hand to his cock with a smirk of her own. “Sir.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he retorted, pulling her head closer to his cock. “Why don’t you focus on getting a D, yeah? That’s a passing grade, isn’t it?”
Nesta rolled her eyes at his joke but opened her mouth to suck Cassian down anyway. She gave him a few tentative bobs of her head before she took more of him, and he groaned at the feeling of all that wet heat surrounding his cock. “Fuck, that’s it.”
“So fucking gorgeous,” Cassian murmured, enraptured. He couldn’t look away from the obscene stretch of Nesta’s lips around his cock, and he sank back into his chair as she worked him like the pro that she was. “Love watching you, sweetheart.”
Nesta could take most of him, but what she couldn’t reach with her mouth and throat, she was more than happy to make up for with her hands. She wrapped one around the base of her cock and timed her strokes to the bob of her head, and it didn’t take long before Cassian was practically putty in her hands.
“Fuck, you take me so well,” Cassian panted, tightening his grip on Nesta’s hair. “So beautiful with my cock in your mouth.”
Nesta couldn’t speak, but that didn’t stop her from showing her approval. She moaned around his cock and the vibration made him buck into her mouth.
“Yeah? You like hearing how good you look sucking my cock?” he said, groaning when she whined as best she could with most of her mouth full. “Course you do. Pretty thing like you needs her mouth stuffed, doesn’t she?”
“Mhmm,” she moaned. Her eyes flicked up to meet his as she reached up to fondle his balls with her free hand, and the simmering heat in his gut went supernova.
Cassian abandoned any semblance of control as he widened his stance and started fucking into her mouth. Her eyes went a little wide and started watering, but she didn’t dare look away from him. If anything, she gave him the green light when he felt her other hand creep down to join the one already playing with his balls.
“God, Nesta, don’t stop,” Cassian grunted, a little crazed with the way his cock looked going in and out of her mouth. “Fuck, that’s a good girl, gonna fill up that perfect little throat—”
Cassian held Nesta’s head in place as he came down her throat, thrusting into her mouth with a few short, jerky pumps of his hips as pleasure rocked through him. He didn’t let up until she smacked his thigh three times in a row, their signal for when she needed to breathe, and then she was pulling herself off his cock with a slightly dazed look on her face.
“Jesus, that was hot,” Cassian said once he could think straight again. He released his tight grip on Nesta’s hair and gently ran his hands through it, trying to sort out some of the tangles he’d caused without hurting her. “You’re an A+ student in my book, sweetheart. Was that okay for you?”
Nesta nuzzled her cheek into his thigh and looked up at him with a sweet smile. She was floating a little bit, and it made him melt that she trusted him enough to let go like this. “Mhmm. Better than okay.”
“Okay,” he replied with a smile of his own. He reached down and hauled her into his lap, ignoring the way his cock twitched at having her so close. “Come on. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”
tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised
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live-the-fangirl-life · 6 months
Note
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Kinktober time: semi public sex for nessian
this is 5 million years late but happy kinktober 2023 my fellow freaks 😏😏 feel free to send in more prompts I’ll be here all month!
TW: smut, pool sex, dirty talk, name calling, degradation
“Cassian,” Nesta panted, her body trembling under Cassian’s touch. “Cassian, someone’s going to see us—”
“Everyone’s asleep, sweetheart,” Cassian replied from where he was standing behind her. He was so hard his dick was practically throbbing, and the way his girlfriend was rocking back and forth against him wasn’t exactly helping the situation. “The only way we’re getting caught is if you can’t stay quiet.”
Cassian and Nesta had gotten roped into their friends’ annual couples trip as per usual, and they were making the most of the empty pool and warm weather. Everyone else had gone to bed over an hour ago, so when Nesta hadn’t been able to sleep, Cassian had suggested a late night swim to help her relax a little.
If only she hadn’t looked so good in that tiny string bikini.
It had only taken a few minutes for Cassian to crowd Nesta against the edge of the pool, spin her around, and shove a hand between her legs. She’d gasped and hissed at him to stop fucking around, but it certainly hadn’t stopped her from spreading her legs wider for him.
“God, I hate you,” Nesta moaned, leaning forward to brace herself against the pool wall as Cassian sped up his pace. “So much.”
Cassian just chuckled lowly and slipped a hand under her bikini top, rolling a hard nipple between his fingers with one hand while he rubbed circles into her clit with the other. “Yeah, it really seems like it.”
“Fuck you,” she gasped.
“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he replied, leaning down to press a series of wet kisses to the side of her neck. “Right where anyone could see you begging for my dick like the little slut you are.”
Bingo. Nesta tensed as she finally came, leaning forward into her folded arms and muffling her moans. Cassian didn’t stop until she shakily reached down and pulled at his arm, silently telling him that she’d reached the point of oversensitivity.
“Fuck, that was hot,” Cassian said. He moved the arm that had been between her legs so he could give her a little break. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
“I think I have an idea,” Nesta said back, raising her head so she could turn and look over her shoulder at him. She smirked and ground back hard onto him, reminding him of how badly he wanted her. “Unless that’s something else in your pants.”
“Just me,” he replied with a smirk of his own. He rocked his hips forward in a promise of what was to come before he stepped away from her altogether, motioning for her to follow him. “Come on.”
She frowned but followed him through the water anyway. “Where are we going?”
“You didn’t think we’d actually fuck in the water, did you?” he answered, stopping and turning to look at her with both eyebrows raised. “Come on, sweetheart. I know it’s hard, but even you can use your brain.”
Just like Cassian knew would happen, Nesta’s face went a pretty shade of pink. She could run circles around most people, but she not-so-secretly loved when he called her names and acted like she was too horny to think straight.
Cassian smirked and turned back around, continuing his path to the pool steps. He walked almost completely out of the pool and settled on the highest step so the water just barely touched his thighs, leaning back on his heads and spreading his legs with an expectant look in Nesta’s direction. She hurried over and settled between his legs, making quick work of the minimal clothes between them so she could straddle him and sink down on his cock.
“Fuck,” Cassian groaned, digging his nails into his thigh so he wouldn’t come right there. Nesta was hot and tight and perfect around him, and even after two years he didn’t think he’d ever get used to the feel of her squeezing his cock for everything it was worth. “Fuck, that’s it. Put on a show for me.”
Nesta steadied herself on Cassian’s shoulders, her slow start eventually giving way to a steady rhythm that felt like heaven. She looked so gorgeous under the moonlight that he couldn’t help but pull her in close for a kiss, messy and open-mouthed and perfect. When he reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass, she moaned right into his mouth, and the knowledge that he was the one making her feel this good had him rearranging his hold on her so he could fuck her as hard as he dared.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she begged as quietly as she could, burying her face into the side of his neck. She’d given up on trying to match his pace, more than happy to let him lift her up and down on his dick as hard and fast as he wanted, and the sounds of her moaning right into his ear was the greatest thing he’d ever heard. “God, Cassian…”
“Yeah,” he groaned, starting to drown in how good she felt around him. They were slapping together so loudly it was a miracle nobody had woken up yet, and the thrill of getting caught only grew with every thrust. “Tell me who you belong to.”
“Yours, I’m yours,” she panted. She shifted her arms so she could dig her nails into his back, and the sharp pain brought him that much closer to the edge. “Always.”
“That’s right,” he growled, their rhythm getting a little off-pace as his orgasm started building low in his stomach. “This perfect pussy is mine.”
Nesta gasped and grazed her teeth against the side of Cassian’s neck, and that tiny jolt of pain was enough to finish him off. He yanked her hips flush to his as he came, digging his hands into her skin as he held on for dear life. She clenched around him to milk every last drop out of him, and he nearly bit his tongue off trying to stop himself from shouting at how good it felt.
When he came back down to Earth, Cassian couldn’t help but pull back just enough to study Nesta, who looked the very definition of thoroughly fucked. At some point her hair had slipped out of the loose braid she put it in to sleep, her cheeks were flushed from all the physical exertion, and her tiny bikini top had given out from how hard he’d fucked her. Her eyes looked silver in the moonlight and they were completely focused on him, a little wide from what they’d just done, but no less full of adoration just for him.
God, he loved her.
“Come on,” Cassian said once he could form a coherent sentence, managing to stand without dropping Nesta. He knew how much she loved random displays of his strength, and judging from the way her breath caught, he knew this one had hit its mark. “We need to get cleaned up.”
“If that’s your way of saying round two will be in the shower,” Nesta said back, laughing softly, “then I accept.”
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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months
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Trust Me, it'll be Fun
Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn
“It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”
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Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection
Halloween Prompts
2053 words
*****
Whoever had the brilliant idea of sneaking into the decrepit, supposedly haunted house the weekend before Halloween needed some serious help. Aelin. 
Whoever forgot to give out snack instructions that resulted in no one bringing any food or drinks with them needed to get it together. Rowan
Whoever raided the cabinets and found an old bottle of Crème de Menthe and thought it would be a good idea to pass it around needed to find something better to do with their time than cause chaos. Fenrys. 
Whoever complained the entire time that they needed new friends needed to suck it. Lorcan.
And somehow, that was how they ended up separated – Aedion and Lysandra off to the kitchen, Fenrys gods-know-where, and Elide and Lorcan finally joining Aelin and Rowan in the foyer, arguing about leaving or staying. The front door was open and she could see the steps leading down to the path outside.
“Fireheart, c’mon, can we just call it a night?” Rowan sighed, crossing his arms. “We’ve been here for hours now, it's just an old house. There’s nothing spooky about it other than the fact that it's falling apart.”
“Rowan, we said we would spend the night here.” She argued half-heartedly.
He huffed, rolling his eyes. “How are we supposed to stay here all night with no food or water?”
Laughing, Aelin stepped closer and rested her hands on his crossed arms. “You say that like we're stranded on some desert island.”
“At least on an island, we wouldn’t have to hear your cousin and Lysandra making out in the next room.”
“My cousin,” she scoffed, “your friend is only ‘my cousin’ he annoys you.”
The sounds from the next room came again and she winced as Rowan’s brows shot up in vindication.  
“I’m with Rowan,” Elide spoke up, walking toward the couple with her fiancé a step behind her. “Let’s just go.”
“Really?” Aelin spun towards her friend who shrugged. “You too?”
“I didn’t even really want to come.”
“What? Why did you then?” the blonde asked curiously.
“Because you’re my friend,” Elide laughed and bumped her shoulder with Aelin’s. “And I thought you might die otherwise and I needed to see you in your last moments to give you a passable eulogy.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Aelin smiled, ignoring the sound of Lorcan scoffing. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I did.” Elide snorted. “And you said trust me, it’ll be fun!”
“Famous last words,” Rowan muttered, rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall next to Lorcan.
“I’m sorry El,” she really did look it. “I get ramped up with Halloween.”
“I know, babes,” her friend patted her arm with a small smile, “I know.”
“Are we leaving or not?” Lorcan cut it, earning a glare form Aelin and an eyeroll for Elide.
“Fine,” Aelin huffed. “But I’m doing this for Elide, not for you Salvaterre.”
“Goody,” he deadpanned.
She went to walk out the door but paused at the top of the stairs. There was something that she couldn’t put her finger on…
“Something’s blocking the porch,” Aelin said.
Elide stared at her. “What do you mean something’s blocking the porch?”
A gust of wind blew the door shut behind her and Aelin whipped around at the sound, backing up until her back hit Rowan’s chest.  
“I mean,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself and glancing warily around the old house. “I tried to walk down the porch steps and I couldn’t.”
“What? You suddenly forgot how to walk down stairs, Galathynius?” Lorcan laughed and rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and letting his head hit the wood.
“No, you little shit—” she whirled on him, pointing a finger.
Rowan stepped in between them before they could get any closer to each other. Aelin shook off her boyfriend’s exasperated stare and tried explaining again.
“What I mean is that I tried to leave this house, and something stopped me,” she looked around at her friends and stressed, “like I physically couldn’t get to the bottom of the stairs.”
Elide forced out a weak laugh. “Ha ha, okay, very funny. You got me. Now can we cut it out and leave?” She stepped closer to Lorcan.
Aelin met her gaze and repeated, “I’m not kidding.”
“I may be a wimp when it comes to Halloween, but I’m not an idiot.” The smaller girl huffed. “You’re really playing up the whole haunted house thing, and you know what? Props to you. You did good.” She began a slow clap that brought a smirk to Lorcan’s face. “Now drop it.”
Rowan walked past them straight for the door and pulled on the door handle. The wood creaked against the effort.
“Cut it out, Whitethorn,” Lorcan griped when the door didn’t budge.
“Uh…” Rowan tried again, this time visibly straining as he pulled on the old door. “It’s not me.”
“Fucking hell.” Lorcan gritted out, slotting Elide next to Aelin as he took Rowan’s place and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. He gripped the handle and used his entire body weight, but it didn’t move.
“What the fuck?”
*****
“’Let’s go to a haunted house’ they said, ‘It's Halloween’ they said,” Aelin began pacing around the hall. “’It’ll be fun’, they said.”
“Don’t you dare pretend like you weren’t the one saying those things,” Aedion barked at her. He and Lysandra found their way back to the front hall when they heard their friends’ yelling.
“Oh, shut up,” she waved off her cousin and tried to think.
“Has anyone tried any of the other doors?” Lysandra asked. “Or windows, or whatever?”
“Okay,” Aelin perked up. “Lys and Aedion take the second floor, Rowan and I will search this floor, and Ellie, you and your guard dog take the attic.”
“Oh fuck no!” Elide protested. “You take the creepy attic, Lorcan and I will take the ground floor.”
“Not gonna correct the guard dog thing?” Rowan smirked at his friend. All he got back was a deadpan glare.
“Fine!” Aelin threw her hands up. “You two take this floor; Rowan and I have the attic.”
“Why are we looking in the attic at all?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms. “Even if there is a window, and even if we can get it open, it would still be three stories up and way too dangerous to escape from.”
Everyone stared at him, blinking, while he tried to find someone to see his point. Finally, Aelin huffed, “This is no time for common sense, Ro.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face and grumbled, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Okay!” Elide chirped, looking a little manic. “We each take a floor, look for anything that can help, and we meet back here in twenty minutes, yeah?”
A chorus of yeahs and okays and I’m going to kill you when we get out of here, Galathynius echoed throughout the group.
“And for the love of god,” Rowan pleaded, “somebody fucking find Moonbeam.”
They all split up, taking a different section of the house. Aelin and Rowan took their time walking up the stairs to the attic, each shift in the wood sending nerves rocketing through them. When they got to the top, they shared a look before Aelin pressed her hand to the door and pushed, letting in swing in and immediately outlining the silhouette of a figure staring right at them.
Three different screams echoed in the small hallway, each higher pitched than the last.
“Stop hitting me!” Fenrys shrieked under the barrage of Aelin’s fists. At the sound of his voice, Aelin pulled back, heart racing and chest heaving, finally shining the flashlight they’d grabbed in her friend’s face.
“Fenrys?!” she hissed, “You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing up here?”
She could feel Rowan’s erratic heart beating from where her back met his chest, as Fenrys stared at the pair like they were the crazy ones.
“Looking for these,” he lifted his hands and she saw the two bottles he was holding. “I knew a place like this would have more booze hidden around.”
“And you thought they’d be in the attic?” Rowan asked incredulously.
“Obviously,” Fenrys rolled his eyes. “And they were, so,” he shrugged.
“Gods, whatever,” Aelin pushed passed the blond and walked further into the dark and dusty room. A single swinging light bulb illuminated the space as the three of them looked around.
“What are you two doing up here?” Fenrys shot back.
“Looking for a way out,” Rowan didn’t elaborate.
Snorting, Fenrys mimicked, “And you thought you’d find it in the attic?”
Before either of them could reply, a loud chime sounded from the dilapidated grandfather clock that was pushed against a far wall. They whirled around. Aelin ended up in front of both guys, her fists raised while Rowan reached for the closest weapon he could find and Fenrys cradled the bottle of whiskey to his chest.
They had barely had a chance to wonder how a broken clock was chiming when they heard the stairs begin to creak.
“What are you gonna do, Whitethorn?” Fenrys hissed, “Sweep a ghost to death?”
Risking a glance behind her, Aelin saw Rowan clutching a broom between his hands and gripping it like a baseball bat. She elbowed Fenrys and hissed, “A ghost is already dead, dumbass.”
“Hey,” he hissed back. “Don’t call me a dumbass what it was your dumb ass that got all of our dumb asses here in the first place, dumbass.”
“Will you please stop saying dumbass?” Rowan hissed.
Aelin shot a triumphant look at Fenrys. “Yeah, dumbass.”
“For fucks sake…”
The lone lightbulb began flickering, immediately shutting all of them up. They could still hear the stairs creaking, the sound getting closer and closer every second.
“We’re going to die,” Fenrys breathed.
“It’s fine,” Aelin’s voice came out tinny and shaking.
“The fuck you mean it's fine?!”
“It’s fine,” she said again in that same choked squeak. “It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”
She felt both sets of eyes land on her and knew that if she looked at either man they would be looking at her as if she had lost her mind.
“How. Are. You. So. Calm?”
She forced a laugh, but it sounded more like a strained grunt. “Oh, because, none of this is real.”
“Uh,” Rowan’s voice came from her right, “It’s very real.”
“No,” she repeated, clearing her through and drawing in a breath. “You see, if it were real then you would see a Me-shaped hole in that door. But we can’t leave this house, which means I can’t escape, which means that it isn’t real.”
There was a beat of silence before Fenrys said, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been listening to myself speak for twenty-five years.”
Rowan breathed, “Your denial both impresses and astounds me.”
“Thank you,” she breathed just as quietly. Glancing quickly between them, she asked, “Run?”
“Run.” Rowan nodded.
Another best passed and the three of them raced down the steps, screaming at whoever was coming towards them. They made it to the main floor before realizing they hadn’t run into anyone on their way down.
*****
The twenty-four-hour diner’s fluorescent lights lit up the group of seven friends who were huddled together in a booth, silently replaying the night's events in their heads.
“So,” Elide’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before continuing, her soft voice sounding almost obscenely loud in the near-empty diner, “What did we learn tonight?”
Groans echoed around the table.
Aedion spoke up first, “Run if you ever hear Aelin say, ‘Trust me, it’ll be fun.’”
A quiet fuck you followed but was drowned out by Lysandra who added, trailing a finger down the side of her water glass following a drop of condensation as it hit the table. “Crème de Menthe and Absinthe look way too similar. Way. Too. Similar.”
“When a door won’t open it's probably a Push, and not being supernaturally barricaded by ghosts,” Rowan groaned.
“That next time we do this, we better have snacks,” Aelin mumbled, staring a hole into the table.
“Next time?!”
*******
@acourtofsnakes @a-frog-with-a-laptop @astra-ad-mare @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @bankerfrog @becarefuloflove @camerooonchiu @captain-swan-is-endgame @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @doubt-less @earthtolinds @elentiyawhitethorn @feyretales @goddess-aelin @highqueenofelfhame @jorjy-jo @julemmaes @leiawritesstories @lemonade-coolattas @llyncooljones @mariamuses @moodymelanist @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rhysiedarling @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinrambling @rowanaelinn @shyvioletcat @stardelia @superspiritfestival @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @the-lonelybarricade @the-regal-warrior @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading
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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months
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Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who don’t or can’t write the 50k fan-fictions, because of a lack of focus or motivation, or mental illness.
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who don’t or can’t write smut, but are still lumped into a group that is almost expected to write smut. 
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who can’t update chapters frequently for maybe a multitude of reasons, and get messages daily from people asking for “their” new chapter. 
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who aren’t big name fans and hardly get ten kudos or one comment on their fan-fictions. 
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who stay up all night editing and rewriting and don’t get much attention on their work no matter how much they feel like they promote their writing.
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who don’t write a lot and are constantly asked to write more but can’t for whatever valid reason they have. 
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers who have the courage to post their writing online and only have it publicly made fun of for grammar or poor characterization. 
Shout-out to fan-fiction writers for writing their fan-fiction, posting it online, and continuing to do it no matter how much or little attention they get, and constantly improving as a writer with every upload.
You all rock.
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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months
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1, 2, 3/X
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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months
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Most of the time I get the dialogue immediately and then have to flesh out a story around the chaos lol 😂
Trust Me, it'll be Fun
Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn
“It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”
Tumblr media
Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection
Halloween Prompts
2053 words
*****
Whoever had the brilliant idea of sneaking into the decrepit, supposedly haunted house the weekend before Halloween needed some serious help. Aelin. 
Whoever forgot to give out snack instructions that resulted in no one bringing any food or drinks with them needed to get it together. Rowan
Whoever raided the cabinets and found an old bottle of Crème de Menthe and thought it would be a good idea to pass it around needed to find something better to do with their time than cause chaos. Fenrys. 
Whoever complained the entire time that they needed new friends needed to suck it. Lorcan.
And somehow, that was how they ended up separated – Aedion and Lysandra off to the kitchen, Fenrys gods-know-where, and Elide and Lorcan finally joining Aelin and Rowan in the foyer, arguing about leaving or staying. The front door was open and she could see the steps leading down to the path outside.
“Fireheart, c’mon, can we just call it a night?” Rowan sighed, crossing his arms. “We’ve been here for hours now, it's just an old house. There’s nothing spooky about it other than the fact that it's falling apart.”
“Rowan, we said we would spend the night here.” She argued half-heartedly.
He huffed, rolling his eyes. “How are we supposed to stay here all night with no food or water?”
Laughing, Aelin stepped closer and rested her hands on his crossed arms. “You say that like we're stranded on some desert island.”
“At least on an island, we wouldn’t have to hear your cousin and Lysandra making out in the next room.”
“My cousin,” she scoffed, “your friend is only ‘my cousin’ he annoys you.”
The sounds from the next room came again and she winced as Rowan’s brows shot up in vindication.  
“I’m with Rowan,” Elide spoke up, walking toward the couple with her fiancé a step behind her. “Let’s just go.”
“Really?” Aelin spun towards her friend who shrugged. “You too?”
“I didn’t even really want to come.”
“What? Why did you then?” the blonde asked curiously.
“Because you’re my friend,” Elide laughed and bumped her shoulder with Aelin’s. “And I thought you might die otherwise and I needed to see you in your last moments to give you a passable eulogy.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Aelin smiled, ignoring the sound of Lorcan scoffing. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I did.” Elide snorted. “And you said trust me, it’ll be fun!”
“Famous last words,” Rowan muttered, rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall next to Lorcan.
“I’m sorry El,” she really did look it. “I get ramped up with Halloween.”
“I know, babes,” her friend patted her arm with a small smile, “I know.”
“Are we leaving or not?” Lorcan cut it, earning a glare form Aelin and an eyeroll for Elide.
“Fine,” Aelin huffed. “But I’m doing this for Elide, not for you Salvaterre.”
“Goody,” he deadpanned.
She went to walk out the door but paused at the top of the stairs. There was something that she couldn’t put her finger on…
“Something’s blocking the porch,” Aelin said.
Elide stared at her. “What do you mean something’s blocking the porch?”
A gust of wind blew the door shut behind her and Aelin whipped around at the sound, backing up until her back hit Rowan’s chest.  
“I mean,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself and glancing warily around the old house. “I tried to walk down the porch steps and I couldn’t.”
“What? You suddenly forgot how to walk down stairs, Galathynius?” Lorcan laughed and rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and letting his head hit the wood.
“No, you little shit—” she whirled on him, pointing a finger.
Rowan stepped in between them before they could get any closer to each other. Aelin shook off her boyfriend’s exasperated stare and tried explaining again.
“What I mean is that I tried to leave this house, and something stopped me,” she looked around at her friends and stressed, “like I physically couldn’t get to the bottom of the stairs.”
Elide forced out a weak laugh. “Ha ha, okay, very funny. You got me. Now can we cut it out and leave?” She stepped closer to Lorcan.
Aelin met her gaze and repeated, “I’m not kidding.”
“I may be a wimp when it comes to Halloween, but I’m not an idiot.” The smaller girl huffed. “You’re really playing up the whole haunted house thing, and you know what? Props to you. You did good.” She began a slow clap that brought a smirk to Lorcan’s face. “Now drop it.”
Rowan walked past them straight for the door and pulled on the door handle. The wood creaked against the effort.
“Cut it out, Whitethorn,” Lorcan griped when the door didn’t budge.
“Uh…” Rowan tried again, this time visibly straining as he pulled on the old door. “It’s not me.”
“Fucking hell.” Lorcan gritted out, slotting Elide next to Aelin as he took Rowan’s place and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. He gripped the handle and used his entire body weight, but it didn’t move.
“What the fuck?”
*****
“’Let’s go to a haunted house’ they said, ‘It's Halloween’ they said,” Aelin began pacing around the hall. “’It’ll be fun’, they said.”
“Don’t you dare pretend like you weren’t the one saying those things,” Aedion barked at her. He and Lysandra found their way back to the front hall when they heard their friends’ yelling.
“Oh, shut up,” she waved off her cousin and tried to think.
“Has anyone tried any of the other doors?” Lysandra asked. “Or windows, or whatever?”
“Okay,” Aelin perked up. “Lys and Aedion take the second floor, Rowan and I will search this floor, and Ellie, you and your guard dog take the attic.”
“Oh fuck no!” Elide protested. “You take the creepy attic, Lorcan and I will take the ground floor.”
“Not gonna correct the guard dog thing?” Rowan smirked at his friend. All he got back was a deadpan glare.
“Fine!” Aelin threw her hands up. “You two take this floor; Rowan and I have the attic.”
“Why are we looking in the attic at all?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms. “Even if there is a window, and even if we can get it open, it would still be three stories up and way too dangerous to escape from.”
Everyone stared at him, blinking, while he tried to find someone to see his point. Finally, Aelin huffed, “This is no time for common sense, Ro.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face and grumbled, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Okay!” Elide chirped, looking a little manic. “We each take a floor, look for anything that can help, and we meet back here in twenty minutes, yeah?”
A chorus of yeahs and okays and I’m going to kill you when we get out of here, Galathynius echoed throughout the group.
“And for the love of god,” Rowan pleaded, “somebody fucking find Moonbeam.”
They all split up, taking a different section of the house. Aelin and Rowan took their time walking up the stairs to the attic, each shift in the wood sending nerves rocketing through them. When they got to the top, they shared a look before Aelin pressed her hand to the door and pushed, letting in swing in and immediately outlining the silhouette of a figure staring right at them.
Three different screams echoed in the small hallway, each higher pitched than the last.
“Stop hitting me!” Fenrys shrieked under the barrage of Aelin’s fists. At the sound of his voice, Aelin pulled back, heart racing and chest heaving, finally shining the flashlight they’d grabbed in her friend’s face.
“Fenrys?!” she hissed, “You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing up here?”
She could feel Rowan’s erratic heart beating from where her back met his chest, as Fenrys stared at the pair like they were the crazy ones.
“Looking for these,” he lifted his hands and she saw the two bottles he was holding. “I knew a place like this would have more booze hidden around.”
“And you thought they’d be in the attic?” Rowan asked incredulously.
“Obviously,” Fenrys rolled his eyes. “And they were, so,” he shrugged.
“Gods, whatever,” Aelin pushed passed the blond and walked further into the dark and dusty room. A single swinging light bulb illuminated the space as the three of them looked around.
“What are you two doing up here?” Fenrys shot back.
“Looking for a way out,” Rowan didn’t elaborate.
Snorting, Fenrys mimicked, “And you thought you’d find it in the attic?”
Before either of them could reply, a loud chime sounded from the dilapidated grandfather clock that was pushed against a far wall. They whirled around. Aelin ended up in front of both guys, her fists raised while Rowan reached for the closest weapon he could find and Fenrys cradled the bottle of whiskey to his chest.
They had barely had a chance to wonder how a broken clock was chiming when they heard the stairs begin to creak.
“What are you gonna do, Whitethorn?” Fenrys hissed, “Sweep a ghost to death?”
Risking a glance behind her, Aelin saw Rowan clutching a broom between his hands and gripping it like a baseball bat. She elbowed Fenrys and hissed, “A ghost is already dead, dumbass.”
“Hey,” he hissed back. “Don’t call me a dumbass what it was your dumb ass that got all of our dumb asses here in the first place, dumbass.”
“Will you please stop saying dumbass?” Rowan hissed.
Aelin shot a triumphant look at Fenrys. “Yeah, dumbass.”
“For fucks sake…”
The lone lightbulb began flickering, immediately shutting all of them up. They could still hear the stairs creaking, the sound getting closer and closer every second.
“We’re going to die,” Fenrys breathed.
“It’s fine,” Aelin’s voice came out tinny and shaking.
“The fuck you mean it's fine?!”
“It’s fine,” she said again in that same choked squeak. “It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”
She felt both sets of eyes land on her and knew that if she looked at either man they would be looking at her as if she had lost her mind.
“How. Are. You. So. Calm?”
She forced a laugh, but it sounded more like a strained grunt. “Oh, because, none of this is real.”
“Uh,” Rowan’s voice came from her right, “It’s very real.”
“No,” she repeated, clearing her through and drawing in a breath. “You see, if it were real then you would see a Me-shaped hole in that door. But we can’t leave this house, which means I can’t escape, which means that it isn’t real.”
There was a beat of silence before Fenrys said, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been listening to myself speak for twenty-five years.”
Rowan breathed, “Your denial both impresses and astounds me.”
“Thank you,” she breathed just as quietly. Glancing quickly between them, she asked, “Run?”
“Run.” Rowan nodded.
Another best passed and the three of them raced down the steps, screaming at whoever was coming towards them. They made it to the main floor before realizing they hadn’t run into anyone on their way down.
*****
The twenty-four-hour diner’s fluorescent lights lit up the group of seven friends who were huddled together in a booth, silently replaying the night's events in their heads.
“So,” Elide’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before continuing, her soft voice sounding almost obscenely loud in the near-empty diner, “What did we learn tonight?”
Groans echoed around the table.
Aedion spoke up first, “Run if you ever hear Aelin say, ‘Trust me, it’ll be fun.’”
A quiet fuck you followed but was drowned out by Lysandra who added, trailing a finger down the side of her water glass following a drop of condensation as it hit the table. “Crème de Menthe and Absinthe look way too similar. Way. Too. Similar.”
“When a door won’t open it's probably a Push, and not being supernaturally barricaded by ghosts,” Rowan groaned.
“That next time we do this, we better have snacks,” Aelin mumbled, staring a hole into the table.
“Next time?!”
*******
@acourtofsnakes @a-frog-with-a-laptop @astra-ad-mare @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @bankerfrog @becarefuloflove @camerooonchiu @captain-swan-is-endgame @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @doubt-less @earthtolinds @elentiyawhitethorn @feyretales @goddess-aelin @highqueenofelfhame @jorjy-jo @julemmaes @leiawritesstories @lemonade-coolattas @llyncooljones @mariamuses @moodymelanist @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rhysiedarling @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinrambling @rowanaelinn @shyvioletcat @stardelia @superspiritfestival @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @the-lonelybarricade @the-regal-warrior @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading
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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months
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Trust Me, it'll be Fun
Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn
“It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”
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Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Halloween Collection
Halloween Prompts
2053 words
*****
Whoever had the brilliant idea of sneaking into the decrepit, supposedly haunted house the weekend before Halloween needed some serious help. Aelin. 
Whoever forgot to give out snack instructions that resulted in no one bringing any food or drinks with them needed to get it together. Rowan
Whoever raided the cabinets and found an old bottle of Crème de Menthe and thought it would be a good idea to pass it around needed to find something better to do with their time than cause chaos. Fenrys. 
Whoever complained the entire time that they needed new friends needed to suck it. Lorcan.
And somehow, that was how they ended up separated – Aedion and Lysandra off to the kitchen, Fenrys gods-know-where, and Elide and Lorcan finally joining Aelin and Rowan in the foyer, arguing about leaving or staying. The front door was open and she could see the steps leading down to the path outside.
“Fireheart, c’mon, can we just call it a night?” Rowan sighed, crossing his arms. “We’ve been here for hours now, it's just an old house. There’s nothing spooky about it other than the fact that it's falling apart.”
“Rowan, we said we would spend the night here.” She argued half-heartedly.
He huffed, rolling his eyes. “How are we supposed to stay here all night with no food or water?”
Laughing, Aelin stepped closer and rested her hands on his crossed arms. “You say that like we're stranded on some desert island.”
“At least on an island, we wouldn’t have to hear your cousin and Lysandra making out in the next room.”
“My cousin,” she scoffed, “your friend is only ‘my cousin’ he annoys you.”
The sounds from the next room came again and she winced as Rowan’s brows shot up in vindication.  
“I’m with Rowan,” Elide spoke up, walking toward the couple with her fiancé a step behind her. “Let’s just go.”
“Really?” Aelin spun towards her friend who shrugged. “You too?”
“I didn’t even really want to come.”
“What? Why did you then?” the blonde asked curiously.
“Because you’re my friend,” Elide laughed and bumped her shoulder with Aelin’s. “And I thought you might die otherwise and I needed to see you in your last moments to give you a passable eulogy.”
“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Aelin smiled, ignoring the sound of Lorcan scoffing. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“I did.” Elide snorted. “And you said trust me, it’ll be fun!”
“Famous last words,” Rowan muttered, rolling his eyes and leaning against the wall next to Lorcan.
“I’m sorry El,” she really did look it. “I get ramped up with Halloween.”
“I know, babes,” her friend patted her arm with a small smile, “I know.”
“Are we leaving or not?” Lorcan cut it, earning a glare form Aelin and an eyeroll for Elide.
“Fine,” Aelin huffed. “But I’m doing this for Elide, not for you Salvaterre.”
“Goody,” he deadpanned.
She went to walk out the door but paused at the top of the stairs. There was something that she couldn’t put her finger on…
“Something’s blocking the porch,” Aelin said.
Elide stared at her. “What do you mean something’s blocking the porch?”
A gust of wind blew the door shut behind her and Aelin whipped around at the sound, backing up until her back hit Rowan’s chest.  
“I mean,” she explained, wrapping her arms around herself and glancing warily around the old house. “I tried to walk down the porch steps and I couldn’t.”
“What? You suddenly forgot how to walk down stairs, Galathynius?” Lorcan laughed and rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall and letting his head hit the wood.
“No, you little shit—” she whirled on him, pointing a finger.
Rowan stepped in between them before they could get any closer to each other. Aelin shook off her boyfriend’s exasperated stare and tried explaining again.
“What I mean is that I tried to leave this house, and something stopped me,” she looked around at her friends and stressed, “like I physically couldn’t get to the bottom of the stairs.”
Elide forced out a weak laugh. “Ha ha, okay, very funny. You got me. Now can we cut it out and leave?” She stepped closer to Lorcan.
Aelin met her gaze and repeated, “I’m not kidding.”
“I may be a wimp when it comes to Halloween, but I’m not an idiot.” The smaller girl huffed. “You’re really playing up the whole haunted house thing, and you know what? Props to you. You did good.” She began a slow clap that brought a smirk to Lorcan’s face. “Now drop it.”
Rowan walked past them straight for the door and pulled on the door handle. The wood creaked against the effort.
“Cut it out, Whitethorn,” Lorcan griped when the door didn’t budge.
“Uh…” Rowan tried again, this time visibly straining as he pulled on the old door. “It’s not me.”
“Fucking hell.” Lorcan gritted out, slotting Elide next to Aelin as he took Rowan’s place and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. He gripped the handle and used his entire body weight, but it didn’t move.
“What the fuck?”
*****
“’Let’s go to a haunted house’ they said, ‘It's Halloween’ they said,” Aelin began pacing around the hall. “’It’ll be fun’, they said.”
“Don’t you dare pretend like you weren’t the one saying those things,” Aedion barked at her. He and Lysandra found their way back to the front hall when they heard their friends’ yelling.
“Oh, shut up,” she waved off her cousin and tried to think.
“Has anyone tried any of the other doors?” Lysandra asked. “Or windows, or whatever?”
“Okay,” Aelin perked up. “Lys and Aedion take the second floor, Rowan and I will search this floor, and Ellie, you and your guard dog take the attic.”
“Oh fuck no!” Elide protested. “You take the creepy attic, Lorcan and I will take the ground floor.”
“Not gonna correct the guard dog thing?” Rowan smirked at his friend. All he got back was a deadpan glare.
“Fine!” Aelin threw her hands up. “You two take this floor; Rowan and I have the attic.”
“Why are we looking in the attic at all?” Rowan asked, crossing his arms. “Even if there is a window, and even if we can get it open, it would still be three stories up and way too dangerous to escape from.”
Everyone stared at him, blinking, while he tried to find someone to see his point. Finally, Aelin huffed, “This is no time for common sense, Ro.”
He scrubbed a hand down his face and grumbled, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Okay!” Elide chirped, looking a little manic. “We each take a floor, look for anything that can help, and we meet back here in twenty minutes, yeah?”
A chorus of yeahs and okays and I’m going to kill you when we get out of here, Galathynius echoed throughout the group.
“And for the love of god,” Rowan pleaded, “somebody fucking find Moonbeam.”
They all split up, taking a different section of the house. Aelin and Rowan took their time walking up the stairs to the attic, each shift in the wood sending nerves rocketing through them. When they got to the top, they shared a look before Aelin pressed her hand to the door and pushed, letting in swing in and immediately outlining the silhouette of a figure staring right at them.
Three different screams echoed in the small hallway, each higher pitched than the last.
“Stop hitting me!” Fenrys shrieked under the barrage of Aelin’s fists. At the sound of his voice, Aelin pulled back, heart racing and chest heaving, finally shining the flashlight they’d grabbed in her friend’s face.
“Fenrys?!” she hissed, “You almost gave me a heart attack! What are you doing up here?”
She could feel Rowan’s erratic heart beating from where her back met his chest, as Fenrys stared at the pair like they were the crazy ones.
“Looking for these,” he lifted his hands and she saw the two bottles he was holding. “I knew a place like this would have more booze hidden around.”
“And you thought they’d be in the attic?” Rowan asked incredulously.
“Obviously,” Fenrys rolled his eyes. “And they were, so,” he shrugged.
“Gods, whatever,” Aelin pushed passed the blond and walked further into the dark and dusty room. A single swinging light bulb illuminated the space as the three of them looked around.
“What are you two doing up here?” Fenrys shot back.
“Looking for a way out,” Rowan didn’t elaborate.
Snorting, Fenrys mimicked, “And you thought you’d find it in the attic?”
Before either of them could reply, a loud chime sounded from the dilapidated grandfather clock that was pushed against a far wall. They whirled around. Aelin ended up in front of both guys, her fists raised while Rowan reached for the closest weapon he could find and Fenrys cradled the bottle of whiskey to his chest.
They had barely had a chance to wonder how a broken clock was chiming when they heard the stairs begin to creak.
“What are you gonna do, Whitethorn?” Fenrys hissed, “Sweep a ghost to death?”
Risking a glance behind her, Aelin saw Rowan clutching a broom between his hands and gripping it like a baseball bat. She elbowed Fenrys and hissed, “A ghost is already dead, dumbass.”
“Hey,” he hissed back. “Don’t call me a dumbass what it was your dumb ass that got all of our dumb asses here in the first place, dumbass.”
“Will you please stop saying dumbass?” Rowan hissed.
Aelin shot a triumphant look at Fenrys. “Yeah, dumbass.”
“For fucks sake…”
The lone lightbulb began flickering, immediately shutting all of them up. They could still hear the stairs creaking, the sound getting closer and closer every second.
“We’re going to die,” Fenrys breathed.
“It’s fine,” Aelin’s voice came out tinny and shaking.
“The fuck you mean it's fine?!”
“It’s fine,” she said again in that same choked squeak. “It’s just a spooky clock chiming at the incorrect time while all the lights are off and strange footsteps are creeping up the stairs, in a house that won’t let us leave.”
She felt both sets of eyes land on her and knew that if she looked at either man they would be looking at her as if she had lost her mind.
“How. Are. You. So. Calm?”
She forced a laugh, but it sounded more like a strained grunt. “Oh, because, none of this is real.”
“Uh,” Rowan’s voice came from her right, “It’s very real.”
“No,” she repeated, clearing her through and drawing in a breath. “You see, if it were real then you would see a Me-shaped hole in that door. But we can’t leave this house, which means I can’t escape, which means that it isn’t real.”
There was a beat of silence before Fenrys said, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been listening to myself speak for twenty-five years.”
Rowan breathed, “Your denial both impresses and astounds me.”
“Thank you,” she breathed just as quietly. Glancing quickly between them, she asked, “Run?”
“Run.” Rowan nodded.
Another best passed and the three of them raced down the steps, screaming at whoever was coming towards them. They made it to the main floor before realizing they hadn’t run into anyone on their way down.
*****
The twenty-four-hour diner’s fluorescent lights lit up the group of seven friends who were huddled together in a booth, silently replaying the night's events in their heads.
“So,” Elide’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat before continuing, her soft voice sounding almost obscenely loud in the near-empty diner, “What did we learn tonight?”
Groans echoed around the table.
Aedion spoke up first, “Run if you ever hear Aelin say, ‘Trust me, it’ll be fun.’”
A quiet fuck you followed but was drowned out by Lysandra who added, trailing a finger down the side of her water glass following a drop of condensation as it hit the table. “Crème de Menthe and Absinthe look way too similar. Way. Too. Similar.”
“When a door won’t open it's probably a Push, and not being supernaturally barricaded by ghosts,” Rowan groaned.
“That next time we do this, we better have snacks,” Aelin mumbled, staring a hole into the table.
“Next time?!”
*******
@acourtofsnakes @a-frog-with-a-laptop @astra-ad-mare @autumnbabylon @backtobl4ck @bankerfrog @becarefuloflove @camerooonchiu @captain-swan-is-endgame @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @doubt-less @earthtolinds @elentiyawhitethorn @feyretales @goddess-aelin @highqueenofelfhame @jorjy-jo @julemmaes @leiawritesstories @lemonade-coolattas @llyncooljones @mariamuses @moodymelanist @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rhysiedarling @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinrambling @rowanaelinn @shyvioletcat @stardelia @superspiritfestival @sv0430 @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @the-lonelybarricade @the-regal-warrior @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading
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live-the-fangirl-life · 7 months
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Timeless [Immortals]
Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn
Inspired in part by Timeless by Taylor Swift, Immortals by Fall Out Boy, and by my own historical research fixations. Also a tiny bit of Istanbul by They Might be Giants
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A/N: I will say I wanted to flesh this out a bit more and had a whole plan on how to, but I started a new job recently and I haven't had the energy to keep writing during my free time, so I edited what I had and have it here for you to enjoy. I also wanted to write for a bunch of Rowaelin month days but I think this is all I have in me for now.
Finally, I just have a fair warning: I got really into slang words in this. i had way too much fun with them, so hopefully its understandable lol
Masterlist
6494 words
Written for Rowaelin Month 2023 - Day 1: SongFic
*******
Morning light peeked through the curtains fluttering around the open window of their living room. She could faintly hear the sounds of the neighborhood filtering through – cars cruising by, a riding lawnmower cutting clean lines into the grass, a couple of kids out riding their bicycles, and the steadily growing music of an ice cream truck. 
“Rowan, have you seen the…” Aelin trailed off as she realized her husband wasn’t in the room with her anymore.
He chose to go by his given name nowadays, reminding her again of their youth and all the best parts about learning how to grow up before the reality of time set in.
She was sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, combing through a box of mementos she’d found tucked away between stacks of old books.
She must’ve been more distracted by them than she had thought because when she looked at the clock, nearly two hours had gone by and Rowan, who had been sitting in the armchair across from her, wasn’t there anymore. She did have a vague memory of a kiss being pressed to her forehead and hearing his muffled voice but she’d been too distracted.
Aelin gathered the things she’d been picking out and put all the photographs, letters, and trinkets back in their box, before getting up and carefully carrying it with her as she went looking for Rowan.
It didn’t take long. The man was out on their back porch, sitting on the wooden swing and using one leg to slowly rock himself back and forth. He wasn’t looking at her but she saw the smile on his face as she approached. He always knew she was there; he could always sense her. Aelin walked towards him and grinned against his mouth when she ducked down to kiss him, before unceremoniously dropping down onto the swing beside him. His rocking didn’t falter a second.
“Is that what’s taken your attention today?” He asked, nodding at the large, well-loved box she placed on the floor in front of them.
“Have you looked through this recently?” She let his question float away and started pulling out some of the forgotten treasures they’d accumulated.
Shrugging, Rowan leaned forward to get a better look and fondly bumped his shoulder against hers.
“Don’t think so,” he rubbed at the stubble shadowing his face as he thought about it. “Probably not since we moved in.”
Aelin hummed in answer and quickly picked through the papers. “I forgot we had all of this stuff.” She paused, thinking, and dove back into the box, this time with purpose. “Do you know where the portraits are?”
A light breeze blew a strand of blonde hair into her face and Rowan reached out to tuck it behind her ear.
“Which portraits?”
“You know,” she waved irreverently, “the ones done by…what’s his name?”
“Oh of course,” he amended seriously. “Those portraits.”
Huffing a laugh, Aelin fell back against the swing and swatted his shoulder as he chuckled. “You know who I’m talking about,” she insisted.
Truth be told, they’d had so many pictures taken and portraits painted that he didn’t know where to start with his guessing. His wife could be referring to anything.
“Leo?”
“No,” she shook her head.
“Johannes?”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Vincent?”
“Ugh,” she groaned, rubbing her hand down her face, “this is going to bug me all day.” A second later she popped back up and turned towards him with wide eyes, “Oh! You know what I really wish we still had?” she asked.
He wished they could have saved all their keepsakes, but that would’ve been impossible. “Not a clue.”
“Those busts we had back in Ἀθῆναι,” She said, her eyes growing distant as she fell back into a memory from their younger years.
He hummed, knowingly. “Those were nice. But I doubt they’re in Athens anymore.”
“No, I know that.” She said sitting back and leaning into him, getting closer as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I think the last time I saw them was in Constantinople.”
“Istanbul,” Rowan corrected.
“What?” she turned her face to see him from where she’d tucked herself into his side.
“It’s Istanbul.” He said again.
She blinked and then rolled her eyes as she understood what he was saying. “Well, it was Constantinople.”
“And now,” he poked her, earning himself a startled laugh, “It’s Istanbul.”
“Whatever,” Aelin snorted. “I still miss those statues.”
Rowan kicked one leg out and began rocking them again, careful not to overturn the box. “You know where they are,” he reminded her, “we could always go see them.”
She scrunched her nose up. “Yeah, but I don’t like paying an entry fee to see myself.”
The breeze picked up and the pair enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, broken only by the faint creaking of the swing and the birds and insects outside. She absentmindedly took his other hand in hers and couldn’t help but think back –
Back to when they were young and naïve and had no idea what sort of life they would have ahead of them.
Back to their beginning.
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The land of their childhoods was rich, and their life a simple one. Most everyone around them were farmers or fishermen, soldiers or tradesmen. There were scholars, artists, and builders.
Aelin learned stories of gods and heroes and gave tribute to Athena, the patron goddess of her home. She learned how to weave from her mother, and waited for the day she was set to marry the son from a family her father wanted ties with.
Rowan worked and studied and then became a soldier, fighting in bloody battles across the city-states before he returned to wed.
The two had always known they would be married. Their families arranged it long before either Aelin or Rowan were old enough to offer their thoughts. But they were happy. It was well.
For a while, their life was as ordinary as any others in their Polis.
It wasn’t until the two of them had watched their families grow old that they realized their own lives were different. Unchanging. Everlasting.
They learned how to adapt.
The armor Rowan wore became stronger; the language of the orders being shouted changed; Democracy, philosophy, and art flourished. Wars raged. The land they lived on changed names and changed again.
Sometimes years passed when Aelin and Rowan were apart, separated for one reason or another. Other times, decades went by without notice, time losing the meaning it once had. But they always gravitated back to each other.
They met as Aelin Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn.
They reunited as Aeliana Galanis and Romulus Whitheia.
As Eleyn Galliano and Rowland Whitton.
As Astrid and Warin.
As Alana and Royce.
There were some names they liked better than others.
They saw empires rise and fall. A world they once called home became ancient.
And as the world became more complicated – as royalty and religion shaped the nations, conquering and separating territories, as battles waged and revolutions erupted, as explorers flung themselves to the far reaches of the earth – Aelin and Rowan found their lives drifting apart from one another until they only had their memories and a knowing sense that someday they would find each other again.
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"Whiskey. Neat." He drawled, dropping his dusty hat onto the bar top. The wood was scratched up from too many glasses missing their mark. And sticky, too. Not that he'd say so. He was a smart enough man not to complain to the lady behind the bar. Even it meant swallowing back a grimace at the thought of putting that hat back on his head. "Ma'am."
The woman was already halfway finished pouring the bottle. She had known it was him before he’d opened his mouth; but she smiled when his voice hit her, having recognized the sound of him walking ‘cross those old floorboards and taking a seat at his usual stool – the one right in front of her.
She’d had lifetimes to recognize him.
Still turned away, she shelved the dark bottle of booze back where it belonged.
For a moment, it reminded him of the day he found her here. 
He’d been up in Oregon near the California border, following a late wave of gold seekers when he caught whispers of a town a few days south of him, where a woman was holding down a claim to the saloon. A real Calamity Jane if there ever was one.
He knew she was somewhere out here, that she’d ventured west at the call of adventure. Hell, he’d braved across the frontier too, slowly working his way from ranch to ranch and crossing lands that didn’t exist on the maps he’d once held.
But knowing there was a chance of finding her again, and actually hitting pay dirt were two very different things. He had ridden into town knowing not to get his hopes up, but when he stepped into that saloon, heavenly shaded and cool from the high-noon sun, he knew it was her.
She’d been standing behind the bar with her hair woven into a loose braid tossed over one shoulder. Her well-worn clothes somehow suited her just as well as laced-up gowns, pirate’s trousers, or peploi of their youth. Her skirts were long but didn’t look heavy and she had pushed the sleeves of her blouse up to combat the heat. Around her waist, she wore a holster which didn’t surprise him one bit and he supposed running a saloon warranted the pistol that she’d slotted in there.
He was walking towards the bar before he knew what he was doing, and when she lifted her arm to count the bottles she’d lined up on the shelves, he caught sight of the small scar on her forearm. If he still had any doubts, seeing that blew them all to the wind. He could recall with deafening detail the day she’d gotten that scar, the spatha blade that gave it to her, and the Roman general he’d killed for it.
Her back was still turned towards him when he slowly sat down on the stool across from her.
“Aelin.”
In an instant, she went completely and utterly still.
She would know his voice anywhere. Know him anywhere. And even if she hadn’t, there was only one person who would ever call her by that name.
Lifetimes worth of memories flashed behind her eyes as her heart began pounding a thunderous beat. She felt like all the wind had been knocked from her, yet also it was the first time she could breathe in years. She wasn’t sure how that was possible. But then, she’d long since given up deciding what was possible and impossible when it came to him.
And her mind was putting in the licks like a six-shooter horse; like she was electrified.
Carefully setting the bottle in her hand back down on the countertop, slowly, so slowly, she turned to face him.
As they locked eyes a million different emotions flew across her face and he was sure as a gun his was looking the same.
She smiled, wide and bright, and her eyes lined themselves with silver.
“Linny,” she breathed, her first word to him in over half a century. “It’s Linn, actually, but everyone ‘round here calls me Linny.”
Her voice was dipped in that sweet, honeyed drawl they’d been surrounded by. And he laughed, feeling like the years just melted away because she did too. The kind of laugh that said more than words ever could.
A few men at a nearby table looked over to see what all the fuss was about, but it was a joke that only the two of them knew the punchline to.
And then, having been reminded that they had eyes on them, she was reaching across the old wood bar holding out her hand. “Linny,” she said again, still beaming at him, “Linny Gale. It’s a pleasure to meet you…” she trailed off with a knowing smirk.
He remembered every instance in which she had looked at him with those same twinkling eyes, and by the growing elation of her face, so could she. He cleared his throat and took her hand in his, smiling even broader when his roughened skin met hers. “Roe Wyatt.” Her smile softened into something special. “At your service, ma’am.”
Roe hadn’t known what came next for him, but what he did know was that she was here – staying. So, he stayed, too.
As she set the glass of whiskey in front of him, that day from almost a decade prior faded away and she brought him back with the small curve of her lips as she greeted him, “Sheriff.”
At least here, in this dusty town on the far side of the world, filled with desert rats still scrounging for that elusive gold, and where he's wearing the badge instead of running from it...at least here he gets to see her face every day.
*****
Life out here was tough, Linny knew that, but she liked it. And she liked it much more now that Roe was back in her life. Point is, she knew folks made their money any way they could, especially the women.
She’d seen enough life to know what it’s like when you don’t have the resources you need. So for every working woman who found herself under Linny’s roof, she’d be offered a spot as a barmaid, pulling in the pieces so they wouldn’t feel like they needed to work upstairs. But if they did, they wanted to - and for that, all the power to ‘em. Everyone who frequented her saloon knew that if they misbehaved themselves with those women, they’d be looking down the barrel of her shotgun.
The first - and last - unlucky man who mistook her for a painted lady didn't make it back out that door.
Linny knew her way around a broken bottle well enough that the Sheriff ordered another round and watched two of the regular old boys clean up the mess. Most of it, anyway. He knew there was still a spot near the end of the bar where the wood’s stained darker than the rest. She thanked him mighty finely for turning a blind eye, too. She was sweet on him like that.
To everyone else in town, it was a mystery why they ain't gotten hitched yet. They all saw the knowing glances and conversations with so many in-jokes it sounded like they were speaking a different language. She never accepted any other man’s courtin’ and folks from around these parts knew not to try anymore, especially when the Sheriff only ever had eyes for her.
They knew not to mess with Linny Gale, too, because if she didn’t get you first, the Sheriff would make sure you never stepped foot in town again; and if some Hay Seed thought he was quicker to the draw than Roe Wyatt, he either ended up food for the buzzards with a lead plumb between his eyes or was found crawling out the back of the saloon while the arsenic-flavored whiskey he got served hit its mark.
To everyone else, his calling on her was moving slower than molasses in January.
They didn’t know the half of it.
*****
“Howdy, Miss Linny. Sheriff.”
She half smiled at the old man taking a seat on a bar stool two over from Roe. She was already grabbing a glass and pouring as she asked, “What can I get’cha for?”
He chuckled when he saw she’d already poured his whiskey. “You know me too well.”
“And whose fault is that y’old honeysop,“ she laughed.
He’d gulped down half the drink and the skin at his eyes crinkled. “My mammy used to say that…honeysop…I ain’t heard no soul say that since ‘fore I could look over the dinner table.”
Her small smile was wistful as she wiped down the countertop and grabbed another glass, using a different rag she’d slung over her shoulder to give it a good wiping down.
“I’m an old soul.”
He chuckled; eyes distant, lost in a memory. “Yeah, m’ mammy was too.” He looked up and smiled the way he did at his little grandbabies, “A sweet thing like you is too young for that.”
Linny kept wiping down glasses sharing an automatic glance with Roe. A small smile graced her face as easily concealed mirth danced across his.
Setting the last glass down, she tossed the towel back over her shoulder and leaned closer to the older man. “Sweet talking me ain’t gonna pay off your tab, Rolph.”
“Always gotta try, ma’am,” he huffed a laugh and stood, finishing the last of the amber liquid.
Linny shook her head fondly and Roe lifted his hand in a wave. “This is the last one, ya hear?” The old coot held his hand over his heart and smiled before walking out into the blaring sun.
“How many last ones ‘ve you given him?” Roe asked, still nursing the drink she’d poured him a while ago.
A huff of air blew a stray blonde lock out of her face. “A few.”
“You’ll run this place out of business ‘f you keep doing that.”
“He’s sweet,” she rested her elbows on the bar and leaned in, “He’s been taking wildflowers up to Madam Briar’s twice a week. Sometimes I see them ambling together down by the general store.
“He don’t mean no harm. He calls me young and sweet; I like it.” She laughed and he smiled. “And don’t you be worrying about this place. She ain’t in trouble yet. I always overcharge those rowdy boys that breeze in from the next town over. Don’t know why they keep coming back, sure as hell not for my welcoming, not after one couldn’t hold his booze and was sick as a horse all over my floor.” She huffed indignantly but then shrugged. “But I’m keeping my shutters painted and bottles full ‘cause of them so they ain’t so bad.”
Most days were right as rain. Linny handled her saloon with little trouble, but if there was any left after she was done, Roe used his badge to finish it.
So, when some fella too big for his breeches moseyed on in, you could cut the tension with a knife.
The saloon fell silent, something Linny might’ve marveled at if it weren’t for the no-good Saddle Stiff who’d sauntered in looking for hell to pay. The man took one long look around the room until his eyes landed on Roe and the star-shaped badge on his chest.
“You the gunslinger ‘round these parts?” His voice was rough and hard when he stepped in front of the Sheriff.
Barely blinking, he eyed the newcomer up and down, then he took a long sip of his drink and looked him square in the eye before gesturing with his half-empty glass to Linny. “You best be taking that up with her.”
Scoffing, the man didn’t even look at her. “You that cowardly a Sheriff you’ll let some hussy take your beatin’?”
Any lingering whispers went completely quiet as Roe slowly stood from his stool. He had a few inches on the man and didn’t bother fighting off a smirk when the newcomer tried squaring his shoulders to look as big as him. The Sheriff held the man’s gaze as he finished the rest of his whiskey before stepping closer and looking down at the lunkhead.
“First off, partner,” Roe drawled in a low voice. “I don’t let her do anything. Second,” he stepped closer, forcing the other man to falter before regaining the ridiculous bravado he walked in with. “You come in here, rilin’ everybody up, hollerin’ for the man in charge, I’ll tell you this – you’re in this town, in this saloon – she’s in charge. And she don’t take well to outsiders walking in here acting like they know their ups from downs.
“Finally,” Roe took another step into the man’s space and shoved his chest with one hand before gripping the material in his fist and hauling him up. “You ever call her that again, you’ll really have to deal with me, and you don’t want to deal with me after spitting on this here lady.” He leaned closer and practically growled, “You won’t be walkin’ ‘way from that.”
Roe let the man drop back down flat-footed and watched as he stumbled but looked between the Sheriff and Linny who’d been watching the scene. He made some sort of decision and went to open his mouth trying to say shit nobody wanted to hear but before he could get two words past his gullet, Linny reached into her skirts, pulled out a loaded pistol, and aimed it straight between his eyes.
“Get your lousy ass outta my establishment.” She cocked the gun, not batting an eye. “Or I’m ‘bout to have another dead body on my premises. That ain’t gonna look so good to the Sheriff.”
Said Sheriff caught the bead of sweat finally dripping down the man’s face and shrugged. “Don’t know nothing ‘bout no body.”
Linny smirked and flashed him a wink before refocusing on the man standing on the other side of the bar. “Now, you gonna get back on that ruddy horse of yours that’s scaring all the fillies outside?” she asked. “Or are you gonna make me get my floors dirty?”
Having no sense of what he’d walked himself into, the man looked her up and down holding that pistol with a steady hand, and scoffed. “That supposed to scare me, Calico Queen?”
Roe slammed his fist on the bar and gripped the man’s shirt again, but Linny’s brows just shot up.
“Oh, you ain’t scared of this old thing?” she asked airily. One second the pistol was pointed at him, the next the flickering gas lamp in the corner of the saloon shattered in a rain of broken glass as a bullet lodged itself in the wood directly behind it. “That was giving me a damn headache anyway. What about this one?” she set the pistol on the bar and reached below it, pulling out a long shotgun.
The front doors came swinging in hard enough to crash against the walls as they pivoted on rusted hinges. Another man, a local who helped tend the horses, ran in breathless unaware of what he’d walked himself into.
“Sheriff!” he panted. “Need your help breaking up a brawl out front.”
Roe looked at Linny who had the situation very much in hand and let go of the scamp who wouldn’t be breathing much longer. Adjusting his hat, Roe nodded to her. “Duty calls, ma’am. For both our sakes, when you pull that here trigger, at least corral him outside will ya?”
“Fine by me, poppet. Less mess in here for me to clean up.” She smiled at him. “That’d be all yours to handle, Sheriff.” 
And it was.
And they stayed in that town until they couldn’t.
And then they left. Together.
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“Where do you want it, Ace?”
Annie – Ace – pulled out her deck of luckies and lit up a butt, inhaling and blowing the smoke out in a practiced ring. The alley she was standing in was blocked off from the main road and, for extra precaution, always had a protective pair of eyes on the entrance; not that anyone would notice the guards, she was too smart to orchestrate anything so obvious.  
Keeping her face neutral, she surveyed the haul of smuggled liquor brought to her by one of the active bootleggers in their employ. The two men behind her stayed quiet; stoic, as she blew another smoke ring. She spotted in a second that the poorly concealed unease radiating off the man wasn’t because of the loaded weapons either of her boys was carrying. She looked the bottles over once, twice –
“You’re just the bees’ knees, Cal. Always bringing me the best.” She indulged him a bit, pulling the cigarette from her mouth, and watched the tension ease out of his shoulders.
“Anything for you,” he grinned shakily and kept fidgeting. The damn sap was sweating bullets. He tried making small talk and she let him think he was getting away with it for another minute before she stopped him from lamming off.
“One thing, you old Mug,” her voice dropped all sweetness, and as she stared him down, all the blood drained from his face.
Jerking her head at one of the trouble boys behind her, he wasted no time in pulling out a gat and pointing it at the idiot who thought he could fool her.
“Do you take me for a Dumb Dora? A patsy?” She asked steadily, smirking when she heard the trigger being cocked. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know the fucking difference between profitable giggle juice and piss-poor hooch.”
The man was shaking now but she had no patience for disrespect. Not here.
“I—I don’t, I don’t know what you’re spittin’ about, Ace.” He stammered.
“That’s Mrs. Thorne to you.” She corrected him, arching a brow. Turning on her heel she ignored Mr. Weston’s pleading and said to her trigger man, “Don’t make a mess. This damn alley smells bad enough.”
The other man who’d been standing behind her reached for the door holding it open for her without a word. She flashed him a smile and walked back into the speakeasy. Annie was immediately surrounded by raucous laughter and brassy jazz music, it was just enough to drown out the shot fired behind her and the thud of a body hitting the ground.
*****
Owen loved the sound of the big band. It never got old, no matter how many nights he spent sitting in this drum, putting down glasses of champagne. He liked even better, that no one bothered him at his table in the corner – no one he didn’t want bothering him, that is.
He especially liked it because he had a clear sight of both doors, the stage, and the bar. Not to mention he never had a problem picking his Ace out of the crowd. The club may have been bedecked in lights and gold, but his wife always shined brighter.
Tonight, he spotted her standing next to a young doll who looked scared enough just to be standing in a juice joint, let alone able to enjoy herself. But the longer he watched them, the more at ease the girl looked in Ace’s company.
“Don’t be getting the jitters, now,” Annie rubbed a comforting hand down the girl’s arm. She couldn’t have been older than twenty, and it was obvious she’d never been in a place like this before. “You see those fellas in the corner there?” she nodded towards a pair of men halfway through a bottle of gin, each with a fine damp on their laps. “Those boys are coppers.”
When the young girl looked back, startled, the blonde laughed and gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Lose those heebie-jeebies. You’re safe here.”
Annie looked over the girl’s head and saw that her man was already looking at her. Like always. She gave him a subtle nod, which he immediately returned, setting down his glass and gesturing to one of the men standing to the side of his table. Ace didn’t need to hear him to know what her husband was ordering. 
“No one in this joint is a danger to you, you have my word.” At the girl’s still skeptical look, Ace smiled conspiratorially at her. “Take another look around, you see that handsome guy sitting there – no don’t stare – people in here listen to him. And he listens to me.” She leaned in closer and the girl finally smiled, making Ace’s smile wider. “He is absolutely dizzy with me. Now, let's get you a delicious glass of bubbly,” She snapped at one of the nearby waiters who came by and handed the girl some champagne. “Relax here at the bar and listen to our sweet canary sing. I heard her practicing her verses earlier and she's lovely.”
Leaving the girl in good hands, Annie snagged her own glass of champagne off a passing waiter and strutted across the dancefloor towards Owen. Her dress shimmered under the lights as she flounced to her husband’s table which was now occupied with a couple familiar faces. He didn’t falter in his conversation as she gracefully draped herself across his lap and wrapped an arm around his neck, carding her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Ace,” he squeezed her hip in greeting, “you remember Lore and Fen.”
“Ain’t you a looker,” Fen winked, and Annie smirked, feeling her husband’s grip on her hip tighten.
“Down boy,” she chuckled, crossing one leg over the other and subtly leaning closer into Owen’s embrace.
“They were just telling me,” he explained to her, “that our buddy at the station got word some Dry folks want to take matters into their own hands.”
“They don’t think the coppers are doing their job,” Fen leaned back, smirking. “Not finding and shuttin’ down all those corrupted, underground joints.”
Annie snorted and turned over her shoulder to look at the two Johns drinking away with badges hidden somewhere in their jackets. “I think they’re doing a swell job.”
Her laughter was echoed by Owen and Fen, but Lore just rolled his eyes at her flippancy.
“Those damn teetotalers think they’re so high and mighty,” The man gritted out, glaring daggers at the policemen in the corner – darkly enough Annie was surprised the boys didn’t drop dead on the spot.
“Cut it out, Salterre,” Annie chastised. He redirected his glare to her and even though she felt Owen stiffen, she merely smirked at the glowering man. “If you keep up looking so sore, people are bound to notice, and then those fellas will get made. It won’t take a genius to figure out why a man sitting comfortably at this here table is looking to pop one of them off.”
“I don’t think Salterre has ever sat comfortably.”
None of them paid Fen’s comment any head, but Annie’s smirk widened just a fraction.
“Yeah?” Lore goaded, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it between his teeth. “And why would that be so bad?”
Before she could answer, Owen beat her to it.
“What, you killing them? Or someone noticing you want to?”
“Both?” The dark-haired man asked, unconcerned. “Either? No one’s gonna be crying over a couple less coppers.”
“Get your head out of your ass, Salterre.” Annie snapped, staring hard at him. “You kill them? That comes back to bite us. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re smart, but I know you have eyes.” She ignored his sneer. “Look around and tell me how many people are in the club? Tell me how many people would be able to say that they saw those boys here.”
“So? That’s bad for them, not us.” He shrugged dismissively.
Annie downed the rest of her champagne and wished for strength. “No one in here but a few of us,” she looked pointedly around the small circle, “know they’re coppers. Anyone else would just know that they recognized those two goddamn faces in here before you supposedly cut ‘em down. That leads questions coming back here, to our establishment, to you, to us. That is not what we fucking want. It's the whole fucking reason we pay those boys off in the first place – so that they won’t be bringing questions around here. We help them, they help us. That’s how this works, rattlecap.”
Annie snapped her fingers and a fresh glass of champagne found itself in her hand. She took a long sip before threatening, “If you think you’re above all that, then I’ll be handling you myself.”
Lore didn’t say anything when she raised her brows at him, he just shifted his gaze to her husband as if he would contradict or chastise her. Owen leaned back in his seat, pulling her with him as they settled into the plush cushion.
“You heard the lady,” Owen simply said, instead.
And with that, Fen started snickering and Lore stretched his arms out on the edge of the booth as he silently seethed. The band picked up the first notes of a new song that had Annie twisting on her husband's lap to listen to the music.
When she rested her head against Owen’s he squeezed her hip again and fondly muttered, “Ace.” Some days it was her sweet nickname, on others it was a curse, and sometimes, like right now and said in a way that made her turn to press a red-lipped kiss to his cheek, it was a prayer.
*****
The wind roared around them as their car sped down the road. Owen was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other half-hanging out the window. Annie smiled as the scenery flew by in a blur. Tall buildings and crowded streets gave way to green foliage and open land.
The engine purred and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. She’d seen a lot of discoveries and creations, and she always wondered how they could ever get better, but they usually did - things always evolved and spurred the invention of new things. She remembered the journeys in horse-drawn carriages and knew that back then she wouldn’t have been able to dream of a day like today, flying down the roads in a beautiful car, the engine powering them to its limits.
Getting close to the house, Owen pulled off the main motorway and took a winding, private road that wound them beneath blooming trees, their canopies painting the pavement in shade.
The house wasn’t extravagant; in fact, it was incredibly modest. It was something her husband had built in his early days on this continent. Long before the Great War, before the Gold Rush, before the Civil War, and revolutionary battles. Back when they both were searching for something new and took those leaps, journeying across the ocean.
Their lives sometimes felt like swinging pendulums, positioned closely enough to intertwine, drawing them together indistinguishably, but angled just so and pulling them apart when they least expected.
As she reached for Owen’s hands and intertwined their fingers, squeezing once, she vowed to never let that happen again.
It wasn’t long before they’d brought their bags in and decided to take a walk along one of the trails beyond the house.
“Do you think we have to worry about Lore going rogue?” She asked quietly, leaning into Owen’s arm.
“No, I don’t think so,” he shook his head, carding one hand through his un-slicked back hair. “He has a temper but he’s smart. Worst he’ll do is give ‘em some words, but he wouldn’t do worse than that. He knows it’ll only go bad.”
“I think you give him too much credit.”
“I think you give yourself too little,” he countered, and at her raised brow he chuckled. “He’ll put up a fight, but he won’t cross you.”
Annie hummed. “As far as he’s concerned, you’re the one he should be holding back for.”
Owen barked a laugh. “If you honestly think that he doesn’t know who is really calling the shots then you are severely underestimating him.”
“I’m not underestimating his intelligence. I’m insulting his lack of tact.” She told him as they kept walking. “You know we work together; I know we work together; they know we work together; but most of the fellas packing heat and doing the work still think you have the final word. And that works because it allows me to do things I need to do without as sharp an eye watching my moves. 
“And if Salterre keeps pushing, then it won’t be long before everyone knows exactly how I can handle things – and that will be bad for both of us.” She pulled back and smirked up at his amused expression. “How do you think our supply is the best in town? Because I go out and make friends with all those grimy bootlegger’s dames; and between us ladies, things get done, arrangements get made, deals get sorted. And then, without watchful eyes on our lovely, delicate selves, we get our fellas to follow through with those deals…and the world goes round.”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, agreeing. “Enough about that. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”
“Good.”
“And, Ace?” he laughed again, “You and I both know that every son of a bitch who works with us knows damn well that you’re packing as much heat as any one of them.”
They fell into companionable silence. There was no one in the world she felt as comfortable around.
“Do you remember when we got married?” She asked him suddenly.
“Of course, I do, Ace. It wasn’t that long ago.”
Her dress brushed against her legs as the breeze picked up.
“No, not this time,” she said. “I mean the time during the revolution.”
They kept walking steadily as he thought. “Which one?”
“The European one,” she elaborated.
He glanced down at her again. “Which one?”
“Oh, stop you sap,” she nudged his rib fondly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, I know what you’re talking about.” He stopped them and turned her to face him. “I remember every wedding I’ve had with you. I remember every ceremony and every dress. Every officiant. Every wedding night. And the only – only – thing that is good about the years when we’ve been apart is that every time we were, I knew I had one thing to look forward to: finding you again and getting to learn who you’ve become.”
“Ἀγαπῶ σὲ,” Annie whispered, silver-lined eyes staring up into his deep green ones.
“Te amo.”
“Ti amo.”
“Je t’aime.”
“I love you.”
**************
Sitting on their aging porch swing, Aelin found herself sorting through faded pictures. There was one of them in a poodle skirt and leather, of flared bell bottoms and disco lights, of wild hair and rock concerts they still sing along to. There was one of them from New Year’s Eve, bedecked in glitter and tassels that had been shot off the moment that the millennium ended. And another one, taken a few seconds later – thank you Polaroid technology – of Rowan dipping Aelin, his arms wrapped around her as they both smiled too hard to really keep up their kiss, as they welcomed a new day, a new year, a new century and millennium. Giddy about what was to come.
“I think that’s enough reminiscing,” she finally whispered, reorganizing the images and replacing the lid on the box.
 “Yeah?” Rowan asked, just as quietly.
Aelin smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips, intertwined their fingers so their wedding bands glinted in the fading light, and answered, “Yeah. For now.”
*******
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