#nessian fanfic

[fuckyesnessian]

Creator Highlight #2 - @asnowfern

Welcome back to Nessian Creator Highlights!! We want to take a moment to recognize the amazing individuals in our fandom who kindly use up so much of their freetime and creative energy to share their work with us!

Today we want to highlight @asnowfern

If you've never spoken to asnowfern, you're missing out. Besides being one of the nicest people in the fandom, her talent is immense. Blending history, mythology, and the characters we've all become so fond of, asnowfern is a master when it comes to telling an compelling, gorgeous story.

If you're looking for some nessian recommendations, try out these:

We're Not Strangers: Cassian's muscles twitched as every fibre of his being screamed at him to go after her. He didn't know her, not in this lifetime, not yet. OR another take on the reincarnation/soulmate trope.

Crimson Blade: When Paris-based Feyre stops contacting their London home, Nesta engages private detective Cassian to investigate. The truth turns out to be much bloodier than she ever expected. OR a vampire Cassian and human Nesta Victorian love story

The Writings On The Wall: “So why haven’t you killed me?” she demanded, continuing when he raised a questioning brow, “You’re a hunter. Isn’t that what you do?” “I hunt malicious demons.” he answered easily as the infuriating smile returned. “You don’t seem very malicious to me.” She's a demon, he's a hunter. Their fates intertwined after a chance encounter. Can Nesta and Cassian overcome all odds to be together?

You can find more- including Emorie- on @asnowferns AO3

#Creator highlight #Nessian #fanfic #Nessian fanfic #Nessian fic #Nessian fanfiction #pro Nessian

[itsthedoodle]

Luckiest Male Alive

Summary: After the birth of his daughter, Cassian reminisces over the lucky moments in his life.

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: none

Read on AO3

@cassianappreciationweek

Day Two: Gentle

Cassian could count his lucky moments on one hand. 

His father had raped his mother, so his start in life had been less than ideal. Ripped away from her at a young age, he’d had to fend for himself—survival of the fittest was the life for bastards in the Illyrian camps, kill or be killed. So Cassian had taken care of earning the clothes on his back, making sure people knew he was not to be messed with, and then he had met his brothers. That was the first time he considered himself lucky. 

They’d conquered Ramiel together, dropped on opposite sides of it with no powers or weapons to aid them other than what they made for themselves on the go. Still, they’d found each other, and they’d mastered the sacred peak at the same time, inseparable and invincible together. 

They’d been sent to war, separated from each other because their high lord feared their combined powers. During the seven years the war lasted, Cassian had dreaded every casualties list, fearing he would read their names. Every time he hadn’t, and when the war had ended and they’d all made it out alive, he had considered himself lucky again. 

He’d been aware that things didn’t come easy to bastards like him, so he had worked hard for every single thing he had achieved, partly because he had drive, but also because he’d always held out hope he’d one day be accepted by the Illyrians, seen as more than just a bastard. He’d expected resistance when Rhys made him general, and while he’d found none, he knew better than to read into it. Acceptance was not something he had, but Illyrians respected genuine power and strength, and that was something no one could deny he had. 

Still, Cassian had always been a bastard, and he’d owned it so no one could use it against him. But it had always bothered him, the festering root of all his insecurities, which he hid so well behind a veil of sarcasm and playfulness that only those he let get close knew what truly lay in his heart. 

He had fought against the love he had for his brother when Rhys had been trapped under the mountain, and had nearly lost it by the end of the longest fifty years of his life, when Feyre had freed Rhys and the rest of Prythian. When Rhys had come back, Cassian had considered himself lucky for the single fact that his brother had come back alive. He had quickly learned that Rhys had returned half broken, had hidden it behind the same façade Cassian himself had used his whole life, and had gotten back to work as if nothing had happened. So Cassian hadn’t forced him to talk about it and had stood on the sidelines as Feyre slowly brought Rhys back to life. 

Feyre was another person Cassian considered himself lucky to know, not just because what meeting her represented for him personally, but because he saw himself in her. Forced to fend for herself at a young age, Feyre had known desperation and hunger, just like he had. They had become fast friends, and she was someone he could talk freely to, more so than the rest of his family, simply because she knew. He considered himself lucky to know her, not just because of what she meant to his brother, or the fact that she was his High Lady, but because through Feyre, he had met the one person that had made him feel  beyond lucky. 

Nesta had been another less than stellar start. She had been volatile and angry, with words able to cut deeper than a knife, and more often than not he had been on the receiving end of that viciousness. He’d taken one look at her, however, and had fallen in love. He'd suspected she was his mate from the beginning, but Nesta hadn’t been ready for the truth so he had kept his suspicions to himself. He had known from the start that winning her over would be a hard, long battle, one he’d been more than willing to fight. He’d known she wouldn’t make it easy for him but he’d fought, and when it had looked like she was finally warming up to him, when he’d been on the verge of death, he had poured his heart out to her on the battlefield. 

Everything after that had been a giant mess, a dark tunnel with no end in sight. Watching her waste away day by day, refuse help, and throw herself in the path of destruction had been the hardest thing to witness. He’d forced himself to keep out of it until he had no longer been able to, and when she’d finally been ready, Nesta had gotten back up all on her own.

It hadn’t been thanks to her friends, though they’d helped. It certainly hadn’t been thanks to his family, he could admit that. It hadn’t been because of him either, though he’d have handed the universe over on a silver platter to help her. Nesta’s road to self discovery had been because of her, her hard work, and relentless drive. That, he knew, they shared. 

It was her whisper that brought him out of his thoughts, her voice so soft and loving he could feel his heart expanding in his chest. He looked at her, as beautiful as the day he had met her, as confident and resilient, if not more. 

“I can take over, you know that, don’t you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, trying to keep a straight face lest she thought he was joking. He could see the exhaustion on her face, but he could also see the Archeron stubbornness, the unwillingness to ask for help. 

“I know,” she said, giving him the kind of soft smile she reserved just for him. “I’m just, you know… scared somehow. Like-” she gestured vaguely with one hand. 

“Like you’ll blink and she’ll disappear into thin air?” 

“Yeah. Exactly like that.”

Cassian took a seat on the bed next to her and she carefully inched closer. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, and she positioned herself so that her back was resting against his side. 

“Can you believe we made her?”

No, Cassian almost said. I can’t believe we did. 

After they’d been mated in a ceremony which, thanks to a very grateful Rhys, had been extremely lavish, Cassian and Nesta had thrown themselves into reviving the Valkyries. They had, together with Gwyn, Emerie, and Az, trained new recruits, mostly made up of priestesses that had braved the outside world again and any Illyrian females that had wanted to join. That had been another thing for which Cassian felt particularly lucky. 

Devlon and the rest of the Illyrians had been forced, albeit begrudgingly, to accept the fact that females were just as good (if not better, in Cassian’s completely unbiased opinion) at fighting as males were. Rhys liked to tease Nesta that she had worked her “witch magic”, and the Illyrians hadn’t had any choice but to accept if they didn’t want to run the risk of her being hexed. The Illyrian females had laughed themselves hoarse when they’d realized she was no witch and had no magic, and had made sure to keep it to themselves. Thus, Nesta had become the most feared female to an entire camp of Illyrians. 

Azriel had cracked a big smile at that. 

They had both put in a lot of hard work, and after a few years they’d had a solid Valkyrie unit. The day they’d reached one hundred of them, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had all cried tears of joy, and Cassian had been so proud. 

A few months after that, lying in bed sweaty and spent, Nesta had told him she was ready. He had understood right away what she meant, and they’d eagerly gotten to work. 

Now, half-sitting in bed, Nesta curled up against him, Cassian looked down at their infant daughter. Aoife had been alive for exactly one week and there wasn’t a single soul she didn’t already have wrapped around her tiny finger. Elain and Feyre had lost it, squealing in delight when they learned Nesta was having a girl, Gwyn, Emerie, Mor, and Rhys had cried, Amren had cracked a smile, and Az had clapped his back, telling him he couldn’t imagine Cassian as a father to anything but a daughter. 

Cassian himself had simply never thought he’d be here, with a mate and a daughter, had never considered himself good enough for it. He’d been a nervous wreck the entire pregnancy, hiding it from Nesta as well as he could. Madja had told them the baby had wings and, while it wouldn’t have mattered to him if she hadn’t, he had still felt an indescribable amount of joy at learning their daughter would get to experience the freedom of flight. 

The moment Aoife was born had been one he would never forget in a million lifetimes. His heart felt like it resided in both his own body and the small infant in her mother’s arms, his entire being attuned to her breathing and heartbeat. He had cried from the sheer force of love that filled his heart, and he had thanked the Mother for the blessing. 

He snapped out of his thoughts again and found Nesta looking up at him. “You’re thinking too hard.”

Dropping a kiss to her forehead, he smiled. “Sorry. I still haven’t wrapped my head around it to be honest.”

Nesta was looking at him in that way of hers that left him feeling utterly naked and exposed, that brought all his walls crashing down. It was too soon to tell, but he prayed day and night that their daughter had Nesta’s eyes. 

“I’m suddenly feeling very tired,” she said. He eagerly took over, Nesta transferring Aoife to his waiting arms. “Can you wake me up in an hour so I can feed her?”

He was glad for all the practice he had gotten holding Nyx. The old him would have pissed himself at the thought of holding a baby. The new, fun uncle version of him had thanked Rhys and Feyre for letting him use their son as a test subject. 

That had earned him a glare from Feyre. 

He nodded, waiting until Nesta was fully lying in bed. “Rest,” he said, pulling the covers over her, and dropping a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll be fine.”

Closing the door behind him, he headed to Aoife’s bedroom, the House turning the lights on and preparing her a bath. He mentally calculated the time since her last feeding, muttered a sorry to the House for doubting it and, deeming it safe, he washed his daughter, changed her into a fresh set of clothes, then sat on the reclining chair with her in his arms. 

She was so small and vulnerable, yet so quiet in his arms, as if she felt safe. 

Lord of Bloodshed. He snorted. More like Lord of Diapers these days. He wasn’t remotely bothered by it, however. This was the happiest he’d ever been. 

“You know, I hope you’ll end up taking after your mother. She’s beautiful, and perfect, and loves fiercely. She’s brave, and she is strong, and she really won’t take anyone’s shit.”

The lights flickered, the House scolding him for using that language in front of the baby. 

“Lighten up, she doesn’t understand,” he said, and the lights flickered again. 

Aoife yawned and he nearly melted at the sight of it. “I can’t wait to teach you how to fly. You’re going to love it. There’s just something about the freedom of it that makes you feel invincible, like there is nothing you couldn’t do. When you’re old enough, you can join the Valkyries, if you want to. Or you can go into politics. Or you can paint, like Feyre, or grow beautiful gardens like Elain. You could end up loving dancing like your mother. Or you could end up doing none of those things and doing something else, something purely you. I hope your whole life ends up being a big, beautiful dance. I’ll make sure there’s never a day where the sun doesn’t shine for you, I swear it.”

Aoife’s eyes closed softly, her breathing evening out. 

“You’ll always feel loved, and appreciated, and have our support in anything you choose to do. There will never be a day I won’t tell you how much I love you, and how much you and your mother mean to me. You’ll have the freedom to be whoever you want to be, because you’re you, and you’re special, and you can do anything you set your mind to. And I’ll always hold your hand every step of the way.”

He kissed the top of her head, the hair there impossibly soft, her baby scent something he would never tire of. 

Yes, he could count his lucky moments in single digits. But this, right here. This was the happiest he’d ever been. 

He was the luckiest male alive. 

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #cassian #with a touch of nesta #girl dad cassian #because thats by favorite headcannon #and we all know cassian was born to be a girl dad #cassian fanfic #nessian fanfic #cassian x nesta #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #post acosf #several years have passed #nesta archeron

[danikamariewrites]

❈ ❈ Holiday Traditions ❈ ❈

A/n: I'm so happy I got to participate in the @acotargiftexchange this year! I had so much fun coming up with what Nesta and Cassian do to prepare hosting their first christams for @moodymelanist . I also saw it’s her birthday today! So show her some love and check out her fics they are amazing🤗

I hope you like it❤️ happy birthday Merry Christmas love!

warnings: none, just pure Christmas cheer 🥰

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

Nesta plopped the last box of ornaments on the coffee table with an accomplished sigh. She had successfully brought down all of the boxes by herself from the attic. Cassian was going to help but she grew impatient waiting for him to come home from shopping. It was the last thing they had to do and Nesta was too excited to wait. So she chugged her morning coffee and braved the attic ladder for the spirit of Christmas.  

This was Nyx’s first Christams so everything had to be perfect for her little nephew. Looking around the living room Nesta smiled to herself. The mantle–which currently housed a roaring fire– was beautifully decorated with fir branches, colorful winter candyland baubles, twinkling lights, and two large bows at either end. Their usual soft throw pillows on the couches have been changed out for candy cane pillows and blankets with snowflakes and snowmen. 

The only thing left to decorate was the tree. Nesta started opening all the plastic boxes when the front door opened, Cassian’s cheery voice ringing through their warm home. When he appeared in the living room bags of different sizes decorated his arms, a large grin on his face. “Hey baby, I thought I was going to help you with those?” Nesta returned his smile unwrapping the book stack ornament Cassian got her last year. “I could’t wait. Did you get the stuff for our mega gingerbread house?” 

Cassian chuckled and held up a bag from their favorite bakery. “Oh yeah. Let me put this stuff away and we’ll decorate.” Nesta smiled at his retreating back. She couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest woman in the world. As a child her and her sisters never had a good holiday experience thanks to their parents. Their mother’s focus was throwing the best parties for Christmas and New Years. Always neglecting to get the girls presents or doing any holiday activities with them. 

When Feyre and Rhysand found each other that’s when the new holiday traditions started. The first time they all spent Christmas together Nesta was drawn to Cassian and the love he had for the holiday. He made sure she and Elain felt welcome, the brothers even made sure they had a few gifts to open. Ever since that day Cassian and Nesta were inseperable. 

Cassian laid out the gingerbread pieces on the island along with the icing and candy toppings. He swiped two candy canes for him and Nes before sorting gifts that could be wrapped today and ones that he’d wrap tonight when Nesta was fast asleep. Gathering the gifts, wrapping paper, tape, and scissors he headed back to the living room. 

Nesta was half done unwrapping the ornaments, humming along to the Christmas playlist lightly playing from the speaker. Cassian never knew why she insisted on throwing Justin Bieber’s Christmas album into the mix of songs but he went with it. He would never tell Nesta that he enjoyed it. Cassian would never hear the end of it from her or his brothers. Dumping the gift supplies on the couch Cassian started picking up ornaments, choosing which ones he wanted to hang on the tree first. 

As the hours passed Cassian and Nesta were giggling as they reminisced about the joke ornaments they had bought each other over the years. Cassian found a Santa hat in one of the decoration boxes and decided it was his, even though Nesta fought him for it. Her consolation prize was silver tinsel Cassian wrapped around her like a scarf. 

Once the tree was done, Cassian and Nesta stood back wrapped in each other’s arms. Cassian kissed her tinsel covered head and looked down at his girlfriend with deep adoration. She looks so beautiful with the colorful Christmas lights reflecting in her blue-gray eyes. Images of their future together ran through his mind. A few more holidays by themselves and one day, maybe, a set of twin girls with his hair and her features running around. They’re in matching Christmas PJ’s trying to sneak a peak at the gifts they spent hours wrapping after bedtime before being caught by mom and dad.  

Breaking him from his thoughts Nesta bumped her hip against his. “Alright you,” she said cooly, “Lets get to wrapping.” 

Getting settled on the floor Cassian started rolling out wrapping paper. Nesta turned on the TV immediately changing the channel. When Nesta saw Rudolph was on she let out a happy hum, watching with a childlike wonder Cassian rarely saw from her. They noticed most of the gifts are for Nyx. Yeah he’s only a few months old, but Cassian and Nesta wanted his first Christmas to be special. Since they were hosting, the pair wanted their nephew to be the center of attention.   

Moving to the kitchen Cassian put the kettle on for hot cocoa as Nesta took a seat at the island and began unwrapping the toppings, throwing a few gumdrops in her mouth. “Hey,” she said to get Cassian’s attention. He turned to see Nesta cocking her arm back, gumdrop between her fingers, nodding at him with a determined smile. Cassian smirks, opening his mouth wide, leaning his head back a little. Nesta launches it in a short arch landing right on Cassian’s tongue. They both raise their arms in victory letting out a twin ‘woo’.  

Mega gingerbread house had to look perfect this year since it would be the center piece of the mantel. So this year they actually tried to not make it a disaster that would collapse just so they could eat it. Once it was a sugary monstrosity Nyx was sure to grab at, the pair carefully transported mega gingerbread house to its pedestal. It was quite impressive. The house looked like it belonged on a mountain top, Nesta guessed it kind of was thanks to where it was placed.   

Looking at his watch Cassian grimaced, noting it was much later than he thought. 

Getting settled in bed Cass watched his show on his iPad while Nesta read Christmas book seven of the twelve he got her. She hated being behind on her twelve days of Christmas reads. This one was about a long distance couple finally meeting for a magically holiday in the city. 

An hour passed before Cassian heard Nes slightly snoring. He smiled to himself as he softly kisses her forehead, silently slipping out from under the covers. Two years ago Cass caught Nesta snooping through her gift pile during the day so he made the decision to wrap in the middle of the night.

Sorting through the gifts in the living room Cassian couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. This year’s haul for Nesta was perfect if he did say so himself. He even got her special wrapping paper with little books on it. 

After an hour of wrapping gifts Cassian crept back upstairs. There was one more thing he had to check on before he went to sleep. Tiptoeing as best he could to the closet he slipped inside. Using the flash light on his phone so he wouldn’t wake Nesta he quietly opened his shirt drawer, digging out the smal black velvet box.   

Checking on the ring he knew was tucked away in the perfect hiding spot Cassian grined. Everytime Cass looked at the engagement ring his heart pounded with excitement. It took all of his self restraint to not propose to Nesta everyday. No, he would wait and make this the best Christmas, better than the one they first met. He’ll never forget the surprised face Nesta made when he handed her that first gift. Cassian smiled thinking about the surprise that will grace Nesta’s beautiful face in just two days. 

Two more days and they’ll have a life time of happy holidays together.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #cassian acotar #nesta acotar #nesta archeron #nesta archeron acotar #nessian #nessian fanfiction #nessian fanfic #nesta x cassian #nessian fluff #nesta x cassian fluff #acotargiftexchange2023 #acotar secret santa 2023 #modern!nessian

[separatist-apologist]

Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Mating bond snapped for Cassian and Nesta at the first dinner in the human lands (this was the prompt and this is still a drabble. A casual, very laid back 10k word drabble)

Note: MANAGE YOUR EXPECTATIONS

Read on AO3

“Do not embarrass me,” Rhysand snarled, eyes bouncing between Cassian and Azriel. Azriel remained stiff backed, his face all but carved from stone. Though Cassian felt the same apprehension radiating from Azriel’s rigid body, he forced himself to grin. 

“Lighten up, Rhys,” Cassian said, resisting the urge to grit his teeth. “If Feyre’s sisters are even half as lovely and charming as she is, I suspect we’ll have a good time.”

Azriel’s frown only deepened. It was Cassian’s favorite game to play—how many times could he suggest he was interested in Feyre before Rhys snapped and finally admitted he was in love with her? At least once more it seemed, as Rhys merely ran a hand through his inky hair, a cool expression on the High Lord’s face.

Dumbass, Cassian thought loudly before slamming the mental walls of his mind up. Rhys’s upper lip curled, violet eyes flashing with irritation.

“I mean it. They’re human and we’re…” “Their worst nightmare,” Azriel intoned flatly. Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, still smiling even as his gut clenched.

“That’s the spirit,” he said cheerfully. Someone had to keep the mood light though privately, Cassian was dreading this journey. He’d seen enough of Feyre and heard the ranting stories Rhys shared in private to know he had no interest in meeting either one of the Archeron sisters. At best they were neglectful and at worst, well…maybe he’d snap his teeth a little. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Rhys ordered, reading Cassian’s thoughts. Whoops. He hadn’t meant to shout that so loudly. Azriel’s hazel eyes slid toward Cassian, one dark brow raised in question. Cassian shook out his hands.

“She’s just…so…young,” he finally said, unsure how else to word it. Sad, too, though there was no reason to rub salt in Rhys’s wounds. Rhys clenched his jaw and nodded. 

“We need them. Keep your fucking thoughts to yourself,” he ordered, magic lacing his every word. Both siphons on Cassian and Azriel’s hands flared in response, their knees buckling as they forced themselves to remain upright. Rhys wouldn’t make them bow but he would make them yield. 

There was no further conversation. Feyre sent word silently and Rhys’s expression immediately became one of yearning. Cassian and Azriel exchanged several glances on their way out the door. How did Feyre not notice? It was almost painful to watch, their dance one Cassian hoped never to participate in. 

Sometimes, when he stood too closely to the pair of them, he swore what shimmered between his brother and Feyre was the ever elusive mating bond. And that made him nervous, too. Cassian recalled when his hand brushed the back of Feyre’s some little electric shock convinced him to put space between them as something strange raked down his senses. Something old, something that made him distinctly uncomfortable. 

Feyre had gone ahead to plead with her sisters and her face told Cassian they’d agreed but reluctantly. Even now, Cassian wondered why they couldn’t do this simple thing for her. Why everything had to be so difficult for Feyre.

Such a fight. 

He wondered the entire flight over, trying to untangle the knot that had built in his chest. The strangest feeling of excitement and dread had built until he was all but crawling in his skin. He wanted to veer toward spring, to circle overhead until he learned what Tamlin was up to. Let Rhysand play courtier—that had never been Cassian’s strong suit to begin with.

But Cassian suspected Feyre wanted her old life to converge with her new one, and for that reason alone he landed on the sprawling lawn with as much care as he could manage. Azriel had far more grace though he carelessly trampled some carefully planted tulips as he made his way toward the stone laid path. 

They could smell the fear before they ever reached the door. Cassian marveled at the sprawling estate, trying to reconcile it with the story Rhys had told him regarding Feyre’s life before the mountain, before Prythian. He’d seen less wealth in castles—in some of the palaces High Lords occupied. 

Feyre seemed ill at ease when she pulled open the door to allow them in. Tucking his wings in tight, Cassian tucked under the doorway to avoid hitting his head against the wood. None of it had been built with creatures like him in mind. 

The cloying scent of salt and fear threatened to overwhelm him as Feyre beckoned for them to follow behind her. There was something else lingering in the air. Something sweet, some call that his gut answered even as his brain scrambled to untangle. Cassian’s own anxiety slid into pure, animal excitement. He’d heard human food was inedible but perhaps that was merely a rumor. The desert-like scent in the air was certainly making promises. A ribbon of vanilla and honey—or cinnamon and clove. Something warm, something that reminded him of untarnished snow and crackling, comforting flame. 

It took Cassian a moment to realize the hint of metal sang just beneath the sweet, though he very much doubted there were those sorts of weapons in this place. Beside him Azriel didn’t seem to be concerned and Rhys was so busy studying Feyre with that familiar look of longing to notice anything else. 

Cassian wanted to extend his wings and couldn’t quite figure out why. Get it together, he ordered himself silently. They were just humans and this was one meal, one night, and then one miserable meeting with the cunty queens he didn’t expect to help. 

Cassian complemented the house, trying like he always did to ease some of the tension. It did little for the three people surrounding him. Feyre’s face was drawn and tight, which made Rhys edgy even as he tried to hide it. He’d sent his own wings away while Azriel had banished his shadows in an attempt to set Feyre’s sisters at ease. 

Cassian sized the three of them up. Even without the magic rolling off them in obvious, visual waves, there was nothing that could be done that would make humans comfortable around them. They were so obviously different it was almost funny. 

Almost. 

Cassian took a breath and stepped into the brightness of dusk filled dining room. Two women stood just beside the window, gold gilding their brown hair. Swallowing, he took in the smaller one first—wide, nervous brown eyes bounced between him and Azriel, staring not at their faces but the wings just behind. They both attempted to tuck them tighter, stomach clenching in the process. Cassian wanted to reach for the twin swords strapped along his spine and resisted, not wanting to see the trembling female faint.

The taller sister stepped ever so slightly in front of her, amethyst gown whispering some silent warning. Cassian looked to her face, expecting to find similar beauty trembling back at him.

His whole body ignited at the sight of those silvery blue eyes staring directly at him with defiance. No fear, he marveled, drinking in the face of the most beautiful female he’d ever seen in his immortal existence. Her high cheekbones, her curved brows, and her full lips set in a tight line made his blood sing, made him stand just a little straighter as though she outwardly demanded it.

Look at me, look at me, look—

She stumbled backward, knocking into the sister behind her a mere second before all the air was expelled from Cassian’s lungs. A siphoned hand flew to his chest to try and steady his frantic heart. A muscle in his chest ripped open, unknown to him right until that moment when it was pulled taut. 

“My sisters,” Feyre said, her voice faraway as though she were screaming to him underwater. “Nesta and Elain Archeron.”

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta. Cassian was certain he’d dreamt that name before. Rhys’s head whipped toward Cassian, eyes flashing.

What the fuck is going on? The High Lords voice rang through his mind, talons slicing his warded walls to ribbons. Cassian let him in, swallowing had as Nesta righted herself. He could hear her frantic heart, a mirror for his own. 

There was ringing silence in his head as Rhys parsed through the last ten seconds and then a heaving, heavy sigh. 

Cauldron fuck me, Rhys said. 

“Get them out of here,” Nesta Archeron’s voice said, wavering even as her iron spine did not. Feyre gaped, face paling. 

“You said—”

“I’ve changed my mind!” Nesta declared, her voice shrill. She was still looking at him, accusation lining those stunning eyes. “I want them out right now! Get them out of this house before—”

“It’s just you,” Rhys interrupted smoothly, reading Nesta’s thoughts quickly. Azriel looked over at Cassian, who’d thrown his hands up in defense. “Elain is fine.”

“What’s going on?” Elain whispered, tears brimming the bottom of her eyes. 

Nesta’s upper lip curled over her teeth and though he knew he shouldn’t, Cassian grinned as his human mate turned to face off with the High Lord. She had to be crazy to think she could withstand him and yet Cassian thought if they came to blows, Nesta might come out on top from sheer will alone. 

It didn’t stop him from daring a step toward Rhys. 

“This is still my house,” she hissed, unaware that just behind her, Elain had clutched her cobalt dress in nervous, trembling fingers. Two fat tears slid down her cheeks, unnoticed as she waited to see what would happen. “Get him out of here.”

“My name is Cassian,” Cassian told her stupidly, wanting her to look at him again. “And I’m not leaving.”

Someone had to guard her, after all. He’d already promised Rhys he’d keep an eye on the estate though back when he’d agreed, he’d figured he’d fly a few circles overhead at night and otherwise keep his distance.

Now he’d be sleeping outside Nesta Archeron’s door whether she liked it or not. And judging by the anger radiating off that perfect face, Cassian suspected it would  be the latter.

“No one is leaving,” Feyre declared, still bewildered. She stepped between Rhys and her eldest sister, looking between them both. “And no one is fighting. Whatever is going on—”

“He’s done something!” Nesta declared, crossing her arms over her chest. Cassian forced himself not to look at her breasts swelled over her neckline, eyes snapping back to her face. His mate—this was his mate. “You swore there would be no magic.”

Cassian couldn’t help his loud laugh. “I did something?” he shot back incredulously. “It was you, Nesta Archeron. You and your eyes–”

“That’s enough!” Rhys ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “There was no magic. What you two feel…” he took a breath as both Azriel and Elain inched away from Cassian and Nesta instinctively, uninterested in getting caught in the crosshairs. 

“Oh, no,” Feyre whispered, her expression falling. 

“It’s a mating bond,” Rhys finally said, forcing the words out as though they pained him.

“It’s nothing,” Nesta insisted. Cassian pretended that didn’t wound him, forcing his smile to remain unchanged.

“We’ll see,” he replied.

“We should eat,” Elain said, catching the way Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel all stiffened at the suggestion. Rhys turned to Cassian, a warning in his eyes not to try anything when it came to Nesta Archeron. Cassian knew he was too confrontational without saying a word in response. If Nesta wanted to serve him, he wasn’t going to stop her. In fact, he welcomed her placing a dish in front of him even if it was the foul human food.

Anything that might make her feel the same instinctual need thrumming through him. 

It was only Feyre and her nervous eyes that kept Cassian from doing anything but dipping his head. She wanted her sisters to like them and this new, unexpected roadblock had certainly thrown a wrench in those plans. 

It was pure tragedy to see the dining table lined with silver dishes. While Nesta took the chair at the head of the table, Feyre began pulling open lids loudly, her frustration plain. She was the one who went around and served Cassian, dumping things indiscriminately onto his plate. Rhys and Azriel watched, serving themselves quietly and carefully in response to the clattering spoons. 

Cassian sat as close to Nesta as he could get given her sisters now flanked her. It was amusing to think Elain might be trying to protect Nesta. 

Feyre and Rhys tried making small talk and Nesta, who was practically burning for a fight, started with Feyre. Cassian was watching, shoveling food tastelessly into his mouth. 

Do it, do it, do it— he was practically on his knees begging for her attention. When Nesta asked Feyre if their food wasn’t good enough, Cassian saw an opportunity and took it. 

“I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I’ll have to take your word on it.”

Their eyes met, her brow arched. Cassian imagined many a male at withered to dust beneath that look but oh, how he savored it. For five hundred years, Cassian had been looking for a worthy opponent. Someone as strong as he was, as capable. Someone who might best him without the use of the High Lords magic–and even Rhys couldn’t beat him in a hand to hand fight. 

“You might like my home,” Cassian told her, setting his fork back to the table. Nesta’s eyes flashed and Cassian wondered how depraved it made him to wish she’d fly across over those elegant dish ware and wrap her hands around his throat. 

At least then she’d be touching him. And oh, but how he wanted to feel those hands against his skin, even if she was pummeling him into oblivion. Especially if she was pummeling him into oblivion.

Azriel coughed politely while Rhys stared up at the chandelier and too late, Cassian realized arousal must have been rolling off him. 

“I might,” Nesta agreed with a predator's smile, “if it were burning to the ground.”

“That’s enough!” Feyre interrupted as Rhys’s fork clattered to his plate. It wasn’t, though. Nesta wasn’t finished eviscerating Cassian and Cassian was going to let her. He held her stare, head cocked.

I’m not scared of you, he thought. It was only half a lie. What happened when Feyre explained to Nesta how mating bonds worked? The female before him was likely to break it simply because she could. There was no love for his kind in those eyes. 

“And when it's your home that's burning first?” Cassian asked her. “Mine has already been thoroughly wrecked and might have been nothing but ash if your sister hadn’t come along.”

Nesta hesitated long enough for Cassian to understand some small piece of the female tied to him by fate itself. Nesta didn’t know what had happened in Prythian, then. Didn’t know what had caused Feyre’s transformation or, if she did, she didn’t wholly understand it. Cassian imagined Feyre might have downplayed the worst of things to spare her sisters. 

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Nesta asked him, regaining herself with a quick blink of those mesmerizing eyes. “To keep my home safe.”

Cassian offered her a smile. “That’s exactly right.”

Azriel coughed again, his cheeks burning as he kept his eyes on his plate. Cassian’s smile slipped—he wasn’t aroused. Even Feyre couldn’t look at her sister, though she remained silent as Cassian realized this time it was Nesta’s faint arousal in the air, snuffed out like a candle when she realized herself. Cassian doubted she knew their senses had all caught it, and if anyone told her, Cassian thought he might kill them. Nesta didn’t seem like she handled embarrassment well and if she learned, Cassian was certain she’d lean hard into her anger and fear and he’d never scent it again.

Dinner passed quietly after that. Elain made awkward small talk with an equally awkward Azriel, allowing the rest of them to say nothing. And when they finished, both Nesta and Elain vanished, leaving only the latter to return later to show them to their respective rooms for the evening. 

Neither Azriel nor Cassian commented on Feyre and Rhys sharing a bed chamber and Elain was far too modest to do anything but close the door quickly, eyes wide with embarrassment.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve put you away from…” Elain chewed the inside of her cheek. Cassian only shrugged. It was to be expected that everyone would want him far, far away from Nesta Archeron. For all he knew, Nesta herself had ordered he be put outside. If she’d told him herself to sleep in the stables, he would have done it. She wasn’t going to speak to him and he wasn’t going to make things more difficult. 

Elain vanished the moment she’d unlocked the door at the end of the empty hall. The best was big enough to accommodate his wings though little else. Cassian sighed, ignoring it and the roaring fireplace in favor of the large, closed windows. He flung them open and angled his head to look up at the sky. Stars were blotted out by gray clouds and though his eyes were sharp, even in the distance he could see nothing of his home. 

Had he infuriated the Mother so badly she’d pair him with a human. How long would it take Cassian to convince Nesta she could trust him? And how much longer after that before time stole her from him? Cassian had an eternity ahead of him, stretching miserably as he considered that eighty years were nothing, and somehow everything all at once.

What was worse? Being allowed to love her for the span of time he’d been given, or her breaking the bond and knowing one day he’d feel it vanish from his chest like it had never been there at all. Potentially watching his brothers find mates knowing his own had rejected him, moved on, and died and he’d never have a fraction of what they did? 

He was sliding into pity when he heard feather soft footsteps in the hall. Cassian turned from the window, bracing himself for a fight when the handle to the door turned. There she was—still dressed in the amethyst gown. Her golden brown hair was braided in a crown around her head while a silver necklace adorned the delicate column of her throat. Cassian couldn’t breathe while he looked at her.

Nesta kept her hand on the golden knob of the door even as she closed it. As if he might snatch her up and lock her away.

The thought was tempting.

“Feyre says this thing between us can be broken,” she began, saying the words he dreaded the most. Cassian kept his expression flat, not daring to let her see that one sentence threatened to unmake him. 

Silence stretched endlessly, forcing him to speak. “Do it, then.”

Her eyes flashed. Cassian squared his shoulders, bracing himself for whatever words Rhys had told Feyre to tell Nesta—the words that would unravel the spell between them just as quickly as it had settled.

“Feyre says you plan to watch us after the queen's leave tomorrow.”

It wasn’t a question, though Cassian answered anyway. “Yes.”

“Even if I break the bond?”

“You think my help is conditional?” he challenged. 

“You’re a man aren’t you?” she shot back. Cassian dared a small step toward her. Nesta didn’t flinch nor did she shrink back. She merely watched, waiting to see what would happen.

“No, Nesta Archeron. I am not a man.” 

And because he was so very, very stupid, Cassian unfurled his wings just to illustrate his point. He was a fae male, not a human man. 

“What’s the difference?” she demanded, her heart thudding so loud it was the only thing he could hear. Cassian couldn’t make heads or tails of the scent coming off her—it wasn’t fear or arousal, but something else. Something that excited him all the same. 

“Would you like to find out?” 

Say yes, say yes, say yes— “I don’t want you to…” Nesta took a breath, exhaling it slowly through pretty, pink lips. “We’re alone here.”

Careful so not to scare her, Cassian reached for the knife sheathed along his thigh. Nesta tracked the movement with that predator's gaze. She could have been a powerful warrior if she’d wanted to be. Could have brought kings to their knees with those eyes. 

“Take it,” Cassian told her, holding the silver hilted weapon in his hands. “Put it under your pillow.”

“What will this do?”

“If you’re quick about it, and someone dares to try and sneak up on you, it’ll kill them ideally,” he told her, unwilling to admit how achy and tight he felt at the thought of her covered in blood. Furious, too, when he imagined the sort of person that might creep into her bedroom late at night.

“Buy yourself time until I arrive.”

Nesta darted forward, fingers brushing his own. “How will you know I’m in trouble?” she asked him, not moving away. She was close enough to touch, close enough to taste. Not this night, he knew. There was something lingering in her gaze, some old wound Cassian could guess well enough. 

You’re a man, aren’t you? 

Cassian would kill whoever had hurt her. Just the thought someone had been so careless with his mate made him want to roar, made him want to snap his teeth and dig his fingers into soft, breakable flesh. He wanted to bring her the head of that male for her approval. 

“I’ll know,” he said instead, fighting to keep the fury from his tone. 

“What if you’re not here?” she questioned. 

“Then you fight until I can find you,” he replied, certain she would anyway. Nesta gripped the night tighter in her hand, sharp nails digging along her palm. He was going to touch her, he decided. Carefully and slowly, Cassian reached for her face and skimmed his knuckles along her high cheekbone. She let him, though she didn’t lean into the touch or otherwise show any appreciation for it. “You fight like hell.”

“And then what?” she whispered. 

Gods, had anyone ever taken care of this woman—his female? Cassian considered asking her for a list of everyone who had ever hurt her, starting from her earliest memories and working forward. 

He stepped closer, drinking in that warm scent. “And then I’ll lay the world in ashes at your feet.”

Nesta didn’t flinch, nor did she falter. She didn’t have to speak for him to know he’d get one shot to prove himself to her. One chance to show he meant what he said and that she could depend on him. That she could trust him.

“Good night, Cassian,” she said, holding his gaze for only a moment. His knees wobbled as some invisible force pushed on his shoulder, demanding he bow. He hadn’t done so since Rhysand’s father had been alive and had always been immensely resentful of it.

But now Cassian made himself low, eyes averted before his lady.

“Good night, Nes.”

The meeting with the queens was predictably shitty but Nesta was unpredictably passionate. He’d expected his mate and her sister to side with the queens but Nesta had spoken up, arguing in favor of aligning with the fae. And though Cassian didn’t dare say so out loud, he did wonder—and hope—that some of that was his influence. 

Maybe she didn’t want to see his home burn as badly as she claimed.

Cassian returned that night, flying silently through the darkness, desperate to see her. The cord in his chest shimmered, bringing him directly to her bedroom window. He could see her brushing out waist length, golden blonde hair in front of vanity when he knocked softly on the glass. She turned, eyes narrowed.

Nesta snatched up a dressing robe, covering the silken night dress that hugged every lush curve of her body and threatened to knock him from the sky before she opened the window.

“Haven’t you heard of the front door?” she hissed while Cassian wedged his too-large body into her bedroom.

“And scare your servants?” he retorted, eyes falling on the bed in the center of the room. She’d pulled the cream colored bedding back in preparation for sleep, filling his head with lewd, inappropriate thoughts. What did she do when she was all alone? 

Nesta ran her tongue along her teeth. “I figured you’d sit on the roof like a gargoyle.”

He laughed. “It’s too cold for that. I think I’d like to warm myself in front of your fire.” Her eyes were slits as he made his way toward the marble hearth, hands outstretched. “You’re supposed to be keeping us safe!”

He flashed her a grin. “No place is safer for you now—”

“And what about Elain?” she demanded, hands on her hips. Cassian forced himself not to let his gaze slide down her body though he so desperately wanted to make his appreciation plain. Nesta was too proper to enjoy that from someone she still didn’t trust, and Cassian was in it for the long haul. He could be patient, could let her come to him when she was ready. 

“She’s two doors down, Nes. I think I can make it in time,” he replied. “No one is going to hurt you.”

She bit her bottom lip, some of that apprehension shining through. 

“I won’t let them,” he added. “If I can’t be here, I can send warriors—”

“No more fae—”

“Humans, then?” he suggested, though humans weren’t likely to be helpful if it were his own kind hunting them. No one knew about Feyre’s sisters as far as Cassian knew. Just him and his brothers…and, he supposed, Tamlin in Spring Court. And while he had no love for the High Lord of Spring, he didn’t think Tamlin was the sort of male to harm unarmed, defenseless females. If he had a problem with Rhysand, he’d bring it to their doorstep for a fair fight.

“Who are you so afraid of?” Cassian asked her. “Tell me their names.”

“Why?”

He couldn’t hide his blood lust. “You know why.”

“So, is this how the mating bond works for you, then? It makes you stupid?”

Cassian laughed again. “Sweetheart, I was born stupid. Your sister is my friend—I would come even if you were nothing more to me than that.”

“She says you’re the General of the Night Court.”

Something about hearing his title on her lips made Cassian tight again. He resisted the urge to adjust his pants in favor of taking a steadying breath. He was the master of his own cock—he wasn’t going to let her see his erection unless she wanted to. 

“Yes.”

“You’d send your own soldiers to guard us?”

“If it helped you sleep at night,” he replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Do you still have the knife?”

Nesta strode to her pillow and pulled it back so he could see she’d done exactly as he said. He had to touch her again. Cassian knew he was going to leave, that he’d go sit on the roof just like she wanted him to so she could sleep. She didn’t move as he came toward her, her spine utterly straight.

He touched her cheek again.

“Sleep well, Nes.”

“Good night, Cassian.”

Every night after, Cassian came through Nesta’s window. She showed him her knife, he touched her face, and then went to keep watch on the roof. It was taking a toll on him—during the day, Cassian helped train Feyre, too. 

“When are you sleeping?” Rhys asked him when Cassian stumbled into the town house for breakfast. 

He only shrugged. “When I can.”

They were still waiting on any word from the queens about the other half of the book.

“Feyre said Nesta agreed to some of my men to stand watch. Take a night off.”

“Why don’t you take a night off?” Cassian snapped, his exhaustion getting the better of him. Without Azriel as a buffer to soften Cassian’s words, all he had was the simmering irritation of Rhys at the other end of that table staring him down.

“Cassian—”

“Are you ordering me to?” he demanded, dropping his fork to the wood so he could cross his arms over his chest. “Because I made her a promise.”

“Fuck—no, I’m not ordering you to, but you’re going to get hurt if you keep this up,” Rhys retorted hotly. “Tell her to give you a bed at least. Sleep somewhere in that fucking house, I don’t care. I need you if things get bad.”

“Maybe you should train Feyre then,” Cassian said, holding Rhys’s gaze. “It doesn’t have to be me.”

Cassian had begun to suspect Rhys’s reasons for not training Feyre were the same ones that kept Cassian on Nesta’s roof each night. He’d kept his mouth shut about it and his suspicions to himself and all he was asking for similar courtesy from Rhys.

“You’re my best warrior,” Rhys replied evenly. “And she trusts you.”

Absently, Cassian wondered if Rhys would care half as much if the bond had snapped between him and Elain. He read Rhys’s dislike for Nesta plain as day on his face. Five hundred years hadn’t broken the brotherhood between them but this might. 

“Maybe you should, too,” Cassian said simply, rising from his chair. Rhys wasn’t giving him an order, which meant Cassian would continue on as he had. 

Though, that night when he slipped into Nesta’s window like he always did, she was already in bed. Blanket to her neck so he couldn’t see an inch of her, but more relaxed than she usually was. He caught a book face down in her lap and wondered what she liked to read.

“Are you okay?” she asked harshly. Too much like Rhys, he decided with some irritation.

“Fine,” he grumbled, raking both hands through his shoulder length hair.

“You look—” she stopped herself when he pinned her with his stare. “Rhys sent warriors. Did you see them?”

“I did,” he agreed. They’d been skulking about the perimeter, just out of sight from the humans. Any fae lurking, though, would clock their presence immediately. 

“You could go home tonight if you wanted?”

How did Cassian explain she was home? The thought of sleeping in his own bed while she was out here felt unbearable to him. So he shook his head and went back toward the window, well aware Rhys was going to chew him out for it in the morning.

“Or—” Nesta took a breath, leaning forward. Strands of that thick, long hair spilled over her delicate shoulders and fuck he wanted to bury his face in it so badly it hurt. “You could stay in the house tonight?”

Relief flooded through him. “That would be nice.”

“You look like you need sleep,” she said, gesturing for the robe hanging from her vanity chair. Cassian picked it up, drinking in the scent of her skin wafting off it as he handed it to her.

Turning for the fireplace, he let her dress without being watched. She was quick about it, hair tucked into the neck as she beckoned for him to follow. Cassian all but tripped over his own feet, joining her in the hall. He expected to be sent back into exile across the estate but Nesta merely pulled open a door right across from her own.

Her scent was all over it. Cassian stepped inside, drinking in that large bed and the dark sheets neatly tucked against the mattress. Looking at her, Cassian silently questioned when she’d put this together. Nesta would never answer, but the insight was helpful. Nesta was observant—knew he needed a place to rest. And she’d made him one and then, he supposed, waited to see if he’d keep coming back before she offered it.

She hesitated at the door. “Well–”

“Wait!” he said, reaching for her slim wrist. Nesta let him touch her, eyes sliding between his hand to his face. “Thank you, Nes.”

Her cheeks warmed. Gently, she pulled from his grasp, rose up on her tiptoes, and pressed a feather soft kiss to his cheek.

“Good night, Cassian.”

It was the best night's sleep he’d ever had. 

He was going to have to leave her—for several nights while they tracked Hybern’s spies down. Cassian was dreading that conversation more than any other in his entire life. He’d put off leaving as long as could, but after a while there was nothing left for him to do but take off for the house.

He found Nesta pacing her bedroom, arms wrapped around her body tightly. Her head snapped to the window when he tapped nervously and those silvery blue eyes that so often looked at him with nothing but disdain were filled with relief. 

Cassian didn’t know what to make of that. Still, he slipped in, bracing himself for her anger.

“Where have you been?” she asked, eyes scanning him. “I thought—”

“I’m fine,” he said, reaching for the tops of her arms.

“Where were you?” she demanded, hair spilling like liquid gold down her shoulders. Nesta’s bottom lip wobbled and Cassian thought he might die at the sight. “I thought—”

“I’m fine,” he promised. Nesta wrenched from his grasp, dressed in a red night dress nearly the same shade as the siphons on his hands. Had she done it on purpose or was it merely an accident? 

“You always come at the exact same time—”

“I was afraid,” he admitted, the words spilling from his lips in a rush. “This is the last night I’ll be here for a while. I need…I have to do something and I won’t be able to watch you. I don’t want to let you down.”

She was watching him. “Let me down?” she questioned, each word carefully enunciated. Cassian braced himself for her to break his heart—to tell him she didn’t care enough about him to be disappointed by him. That everything that had happened was merely his imagination and he was nothing at all to her. “How could you possibly think you could let me down, Cassian?”

He swallowed hard. “You will be alone in the house again. And I swore I’d keep you safe.”

“The soldiers will remain,” she said, coming toward him. “And I still have your knife. I’m not disappointed—I…”

Cassian waited, holding his breath. Nesta exhaled slowly, eyes closing for just a moment. When she looked back at him, he knew he was going to kiss her. He wasn’t leaving without knowing what she tasted like, if only to motivate him to finish his job quickly so he could return to her. 

“You could never disappoint me, Cassian.”

“Give me time,” he replied, reaching for her face. This time, when he cupped her cheek, Nesta leaned into the touch. He angled her face while lowering his own slow enough that if she wanted, she could pull away.

She didn’t. 

Gods, but Nesta Archeron had the power to fully undo him. Her lips were soft and warm, her heart pounding just as loudly as his own. The bond in his chest writhed with delight despite the utterly polite, impossibly chaste kiss he offered her. Nesta was a lady and Cassian wasn’t stupid. In a better world without the looming threat of war or the fear humans had of the fae, he’d have been allowed to walk up to her door, declare his intentions, and court her the way he was certain she would have preferred. 

He didn’t have those things, but he did have five centuries of restraint. And he needed all of that practice to pull himself back when her bed was right there, and his nose was burning with the sweetness of her arousal. 

“Wait,” Nesta whispered, trying to curl her fingers into the leather of his chest. 

She didn’t need to beg him. Hell, Nesta didn’t even need to ask. Cassian kissed her again, letting her feel some of his own desire that raced through him day and night. It was Nesta who wound her arms around his neck, pressing her warm, soft body against his own. Cassian let her take the lead, his mind blissfully empty of anything but the way her lips fit against his and the sweet taste of her. 

He didn’t realize he was gripping her hips until Nesta swayed, unable to keep herself upright on her tiptoes. Cassian ought to have known better—but he was stupid, just as he’d told her he was. Adjusting his grip, he hauled her up so she didn’t have to stand at all, but could brace her body weight against his arms. 

He half expected her to slap him for it. Instead, Nesta sighed, gripped his face, and kissed him again. She didn’t wrap her legs around him which was for the best—if he’d felt the heat of her cunt against his body he probably would have gotten on his knees and begged her to let him fuck her. Cassian was positive she’d never been touched before. The first few kisses had been sweet but clumsy, though Nesta was a perfectionist and by the time he dared to trace her bottom lip with his tongue, she kissed him with the expert precision of a female who knew exactly what males liked.

She opened for him, drawing a ragged, desperate moan from his throat. She tasted better than she smelled, her tongue soft when it met his own. 

“Nesta,” he said, the words both prayer and plea as he spoke them directly into her mouth. She swallowed it greedily, kissing him again and again with the same fevered want he felt. This was his mate, in his arms, kissing him. Cassian understood why people were wary of mated males now. He would have gone to war for her. She could have pointed him in any direction and he’d have withdrawn his sword and done as she demanded.

He supposed the world ought to be grateful all Nesta wanted was peace. 

Raging hard by the time Nesta slid from his grasp, Cassian could do little more than breathe through his mouth. “I um,” she began, wrapping her arms around her body. “I don’t…”

“I know,” he said. She had no experience with this and Cassian wasn’t going to push her. Not now, not when he knew the kind of heat racing through her. “I’m going to bed. You should, too.” She nodded her head, watching him walk to her bedroom door.

“Cassian?”

He turned back to look at her. Beautiful. She was so damn beautiful.

“Be safe.”

He smiled. 

I love you too.

“What happened to you?” Nesta demanded. He’d promised to come back after that last meeting with the queens—the one where she’d begged for help and was rebuffed—and had found himself battling Hybern. In the aftermath, Cassian hadn’t meant to fall asleep in a chair, but by the time he’d woke it had been morning and Rhys wanted to plan their trip to Hybern. 

Cassian shook his head, reading the fear on her face. “I’m sorry. Nes, I’m so sorry—” “

You’re hurt,” she said. Cassian, who’d been covered in cuts and bruises since he’d been a boy, had forgotten he might still bear some of those wounds on his skin. He waved it off but she was coming to him in that red night dress and who was he to deny his mate the chance to fuss? 

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I’ve had worse.”

The fear etched over her expression threatened to undo him completely. Holding her face, Cassian repeated, “I’m fine, Nes.”

“I’m not,” she whispered, so softly only his fae hearing caught it. He swallowed hard.

“Tell me what to do.”

“Stay with me?” she asked, fingers curling over his wrist. There was an unspoken please in her gaze, one he knew she didn’t dare speak aloud, if only to preserve some of her pride. Was she unaware he’d have done anything she asked him to. 

“In here?” his eyes drifted to the bed. Nesta nodded her head, her mouth set in a determined line. 

“Yes,” she said, looking him over with open disapproval. “And not in that.”

Cassian was still in his fighting leathers. He blinked. “I…I don’t have anything else to wear.”

It took Cassian too long to understand what Nesta wanted. Even after she sauntered into bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin, staring openly at him. Was he supposed to undress in front of her? Surely…surely she’d murder him for that? 

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked him.

“Yes?”

Cassian decided he’d just…start taking off his armor and stop whenever she told him to. He started with his weapons, setting them all gently against the same vanity she kept her jewelry. Nesta watched, knees drawn up, her eyes wide and hungry. That, he decided, must be a good sign. 

He removed his boots next, unlacing them slowly just to test that this was all read and actually happening. Nesta never took her eyes off him, even when he reached for the straps of his clothes. “Have you ever seen a naked male before?” he dared to ask, his words so obviously nervous it almost made him laugh. Had he ever been naked in front of a female before? It didn't feel like it—not with the way his fingers were stumbling over the clasps of his clothes.

“No,” she breathed. Cassian cleared his throat. He’d be the first, then. 

Nodding, he didn’t dare look at her again until he was wholly unclothed. Erect, too, which certainly didn’t help things. He could feel her eyes on him and when he dared to look, was relieved to see nothing but pure, undiluted arousal gracing that beautiful face.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked, grateful he sounded sensual rather than desperate. Nesta cocked her head, gaze wholly on his cock. It twitched beneath her scrutiny, too optimistic given the company in which they stood. For all Cassian knew, she merely wanted to look at him before she sent him on his way.

“Promise you won’t hurt me,” she said instead, her voice crisp and careful. Cassian reached out for the bedpost to keep himself upright.

“I swear,” he said. “Nesta, surely you must know…you must know I’ll do whatever you tell me to.”

“And if I told you to throw yourself from the roof?” she asked. Cassian held her gaze.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I know,” she replied before curving a finger, beckoning him forward. Cassian tripped over his own feet, flopping to the bed. Nesta laughed—actually laughed—which propelled him toward her.

That smile turned her already stunning face into something ethereal. Cassian crawled to her, blanketing them both beneath his wings when he reached her face.

Holding it in his hands, he murmured, “You’re so damn beautiful.”

“Cass,” she murmured, her smile softening. That was enough. He didn’t need her to say anything else and didn’t think Nesta was able to. Maybe she never would be. Maybe it would be her lifetime of knowing she felt the same without ever hearing the words spoken.

It was enough. Ghosting his lips over her own and ignoring the way his cock was throbbing, Cassian murmured, “There will be nobody else. For either of us.” He wanted her to know that it had already been decades upon decades of no one already. That for as long as she’d been alive, there’d been only one person, for a quick, brief moment that had left him feeling less satisfied than before. And he wondered if somehow he hadn’t known his mate was out there waiting for him, tempering his hot blood. 

And Cassian knew when Nesta left the world, he was likely to go with her. Once they’d finished with Hybern, he resolved himself to see Helion Spell-Cleaver’s libraries and ask if there wasn’t some spell that might bind them, might strip him of his immortality so he could live one last lifetime with her.

Just the thought eased the tension weighing him down. Surely he wasn’t the first fae to love a human. Cassian kissed her and Nesta kissed back, pouring all her unspoken emotion into the act. It made him want to cry, made him want to be the sort of male who wrote sonnets and expressed himself with eloquence and ease. 

He had his hands and his mouth, though. And Nesta would know, by the time they finished, the depth of his devotion when it came to her. There would be no question of it, nor would she ever doubt him. It was selfish, but in his mind, Cassian was hoping he’d convince her to leave the mortal lands and live with him in Velaris where they’d be safe—and together. 

And if they succeeded in Hybern and prevented a war, Cassian could see no reason why she couldn’t, though he could imagine a million reasons why she wouldn’t. Elain, primarily, who was still engaged. Perhaps once Nesta saw her married, he rationalized.

Focus, he ordered himself. He was too distracted by too many possibilities when Nesta Archeron was warm and pliant beneath him. Willing, too, given the arousal perfuming the air around them. He was nervous, reaching for her shoulder—at any moment Cassian expected Nesta to hit him hard, to scream at him, to demand he get far, far away from her. 

Nesta’s teeth nipped his bottom lip, pulling a soft moan of pleasure from his throat. She shivered, goosebumps erupting on her delicate arm. It convinced him to keep moving, his hands skimming the sides of her body until he found the hem of her night dress. 

“Arch your back,” he whispered against her mouth and Gods, but she did it without complaint. Nesta blinked open those big eyes, her lashes dark and thick and then, like every fantasy he’d ever had, did exactly as he asked. Cassian groaned without meaning to, swallowing hard as he raised the silken material over her head and then tossed it to the floor. 

Naked. 

Cassian could only stare at the unblemished body of his mate, unhidden by any blanket, though if someone were to fly by all they’d see would be his massive wings obscuring her from view.

And then they’d see the Mother, because he was pretty sure he’d kill someone for even trying. 

“Nes,” he whispered, certain it was sacrilegious to even touch her. Nesta trembled, waiting for him to say something but words were failing Cassian. In five hundred years, he had nothing that compared to her, to how beautiful he found her, how much she meant to him.

Shaking his head, certain he’d say the wrong thing, Cassian returned to kissing her. That was safer, and an easier way to express himself besides. Nesta seemed relieved, returning the gesture with the sort of gusto that made him half wild with need. Cassian touched her with less hesitation, cupping the breasts he’d spent the last few weeks trying so hard not to look at. It seemed worth it to him, not. She was so fucking soft, so warm and willing that his hips jerked in response.

Nesta did, too. She moaned softly, her tongue clashing with his own. He wanted to feel that tongue against his chest, his stomach, his cock. He’d teach her when he came back. He’d show Nesta exactly what he liked, how to get him off in as few touches as possibly—and how to prolong things for as long as she wished.

Cassian was so wrapped up in the fantasy, he didn’t notice her reach for his wings until she ran her finger along the edge. His hips jerked again and Cassian came without warming, grunting roughly. Nesta laughed again, her eyes wide with delight.

“Did you just—”

“Yes,” he said, catching her by the wrist and pinning it over her head. “An Illyrian’s wings are very sensitive.”

“They’re soft,” she said without an ounce of repentance. Privately, Cassian thought it was better this way—now, when he entered her, he wouldn’t be so fucking close. He wanted to see Nesta Archeron come all over his cock. He wanted to see his proper, well-bred lady unspool around him until she was just as wanton as he’d always imagined. 

Before she could come on his cock, though, she needed to come on his tongue. That he knew with absolute certainty. And since he’d come twice, she needed to, too. Besides, Nesta Archeron was untouched and had asked him not to hurt her, which meant he needed to work her into what was twitching between his legs. 

“Yes,” he agreed, kissing the corner of her mouth. “The only part of me that is, too.”

“Male pride is something else,” she crooned as Cassian licked a path down her neck. He hummed his agreement before drawing one of those rosy nipples into his mouth. She tasted so fucking good it made his chest ache. It also silenced Nesta, who raked her nails into his hair. She undid the messy half knot he’d thrown in right before leaving, tossing the leather strap somewhere in the room. He’d never find it again, a small price to pay if it meant pleasing her. 

“If I do something you don’t like, I need you to tell me,” he said, looking up at her flushed face. Nesta was uncharacteristically speechless, nodding her head while Cassian continued his path between her legs. He dared to spread them wide, to look at her flushed, gleaming sex. 

“Promise me, Nes. I need to hear you say it.”

“I promise,” she whispered, arching when his thumb slicked through the wet. Cassian circled her clit, watching the way her hips bucked without warning.

“Do you ever touch yourself like this?” he asked. It was something he’d wondered many times while sitting on her roof. More than once he’d been tempted to fly down just to see and knew he wouldn’t have been able to restrain himself if he’d found her with her hand beneath the sheets. 

“Yes,” she whispered. He groaned at the thought.

“What do you imagine?” 

“You,” she rasped, reaching for his head as he replaced his thumb with his tongue. “Cassian—oh, gods—”

Oh, gods, indeed. She was sweet like that first scent of her, a reminder of walking through her house all those weeks before. Cassian had intended to go exceptionally slow, to draw the night out. He was running out of time and he knew it—a claw raked against his senses as Rhysand demanded to know where he was. Cassian shoved him out. 

Bother someone else he thought viciously. He’d return before dawn, but for now this time was his. Rhysand wasn’t allowed everything. Certainly not when Nesta’s legs were spread wide and she was gripping his hair so roughly there was real danger she might rip it from his head.

Cassian licked again, and again, and again, until he too was fucking the sheets and his cocking was practically weeping precome. 

Focus, he ordered himself again. It was too easy to get lost in instinct, to chase what felt good and forget that his mate was more than just new to being touched, but human, too. Whether Nesta agreed with him or not, she was fragile—breakable even. Bruises wouldn’t heal in minutes and he’d be damned if he was the one who was the cause of that guarded, suspicious look in her eyes. 

Cassian slid a finger into her body and nearly came again. She was so tight, so wet and warm clenched around his one finger that he couldn’t stop the whine that escaped him. He needed to work her up to taking him but more importantly, he needed to be inside her. Forcing himself to breathe, Cassian continued to lick as he worked a second, and finally a third finger into her.

Nesta was panting, writhing her hips on the sheets until the corner peeled from the mattress and bunched around her shoulder. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” he rasped, though his words were half for himself. 

“Don’t stop,” she said. It wasn’t a plea so much as an order and the soldier that had been trained in him practically since birth straightened to obey. He couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to, and Cassian supposed it was lucky all she wanted was for him to keep going. He focused, trying to treat what he was doing clinically though he was failing miserably. His cock throbbed between his legs, wedged against his body and each time he moved his hands, his wings brushed over her shoulders. 

“Cassian,” she panted. His name on her lips was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard. He was unraveling just as quickly as she was. Nothing had ever filled him with more relief than when she broke apart, her hand covering her mouth so the whole house wouldn’t hear her. He’d bring her to Illyria just as soon as he could, if only to hear her scream.

Even if it meant he had to bring her back when he finished. Maybe she’d enjoy flying. Cassian hoped so. 

“Cassian—” Nesta gasped when his mouth covered her own, forcing her to taste her release still branded on his tongue. Nesta moaned, legs still wide as he positioned himself between them.

Forcing himself to remain still, he let her watch through half lidded eyes while he licked the taste of her from his fingers.

“Tell me to stop if I hurt you,” he whispered, notching the head of his cock against her still throbbing entrance. Nesta nodded, swallowing audibly. She was wet, she was aroused, and he’d used his fingers to try and ease her into the thickness of him. There was nothing else he could do other than go slow and let her adjust inch by inch.

Even if it was torture to do so. 

“Breathe,” he said again, once again speaking more to himself than to her. “Just breathe.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said, poking him in the ribs. 

“It’s not supposed to,” he replied, sliding himself further into her body. It was heaven and hell, her cunt so tight he couldn’t think straight. The bond in his chest writhed desperately, begging him to take more, to do it all much quicker. 

It was worth it once he was seated wholly inside her, gazing down at her lovely, flushed form to find her looking right back at him. Nesta squeezed, punching the air from his lungs. 

“I’m not breakable, Cassian,” she told him. Cassian didn’t know if he agreed, though he did gather up her wrists to hold them over her head. Nesta arched, testing his grip which was ironclad and unmovable.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, lowering his head and rolling his hips at the same time. Nesta’s breath caught. “Do you want me to fuck you, Nes?”

“Yes,” she replied, her eyes fluttering shut. Cassian thrust into her, testing to see what she could take. 

“How about this?” he asked, pumping harder. Nesta whined softly, her breasts bouncing when he did it again and again. She was so responsive and so wet. Cassian had once prided himself on his ability to last. What a joke. He wasn’t going to make it another five minutes. Cassian reached between her legs and began to rub at her clit again, focusing on a steady rhythm rather than winding her up. There would be time once they were out of Hybern. He’d explain how to accept the bond and he’d have that time with her. 

He wondered if she knew the writhing need she felt was a result of their shared bond. Cassian might have told her if he’d had the capacity for speech. All he had was her beneath him, dragging her nails down his shoulders now that her hands were free. As she built back up, tightening around him with each new wave of pleasure, Nesta’s back left the bed until he was practically holding her in his lap with a shaking arm.

“Nesta,” he whispered into her hair. He was praying and he knew it and when Nesta’s teeth sank into his shoulder, biting to keep her from screaming again, Cassian could only plead, “Nesta.”

He was asking for mercy, for forgiveness, for absolution.

His orgasm shot through him like a storm, swallowing him entirely with violent, incandescent pleasure. More, more, more, something begged. He couldn’t, though. Not tonight, not yet. Working to catch his breath, Cassian merely held her until there was nothing left inside him. He could feel his release sliding between the space of their bodies, joining his original mess on the sheets. 

Nesta wound her arms around his neck, face buried in his skin. “You’re leaving.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’ll be back,” he swore. “And nothing will keep us apart again.”

He could all but smell her doubt, but Nesta nodded her head. “We’ll…we’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll have this time, Nes. I promise.”

Somewhere in the darkness, Cassian could hear screaming. Her screaming. Wake up, wake up, wake up— he groaned, lifting his head to try and get to her. A million knives cut into his back pulled him back under, but not before he saw Nesta Archeron fighting like hell. Screaming her lungs out, trying to get away. 

You promised! You promised! Cassian could hear Nesta screaming it in his head. You promised to keep me safe! 

He reached for her, fingers gripping the cool, smooth floors. Groaning, he tried to drag himself forward.

Darkness swept over him again.

You failed. 

You promised.

Cassian woke with a start, bucking in bed. “Nesta,” he breathed, ignoring both Rhysand and Mor sitting in his bedroom. “Where is Nesta?” Mor’s pretty face paled, confirming all his worst fears. Dead—Nesta was dead. Scrambling, Cassian reached into his chest but nothing was there—only empty space where a bond had once been. 

“Cassian,” Rhys said, rising to his feet, palms outstretched.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned, ignoring the pain radiating in his back. His wings. He’d forgotten his wings, shredded to nothing by Hybern. Twisting, he found them intact, bound carefully in gauze. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Nesta is alive,” Rhys said, his face carefully neutral. “She’s upstairs with Elain.”

“I need to see her,” Cassian said, ignoring that he was only in a pair of shorts and couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here. He remembered nothing of coming back, of whatever had been done to repair his body. All he remembered were flashes of Nesta, a gag in her mouth and her wrists bound. Of the Cauldron, of— “Right now.”

“Cass—”

“Right! Now!” he roared, pushing past two of his oldest friends. Neither of them tried to stop him, nor did they follow him. If Nesta was alive, why couldn’t he feel her? Why was the bond silent in his chest—a gaping wound that said she’d died? He didn’t believe Rhys or Mor, though rationally he knew they wouldn’t lie to him.  

Cassian forced himself up a winding set of stairs where the scent of Nesta was stronger. Heart pounding, he braced himself for something horrible. Maybe, he thought wildly, she’d broken the bond while he’d been unconscious and that was why he couldn’t feel her. Surely the magic would still obey her?

“Nes?” he called carefully, his palms clammy. Swallowing, Cassian made his way toward the study. “Nesta?”

He pushed open the door just as she stood, smoothing out the same amethyst dress she’d worn when they met. Cassian gripped the door frame, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. It was Nesta—and it wasn’t. Her beautiful face, her lithe form but magnified in the glow of immortality. Her eyes, lined silver with concern as she came toward him. And her ears…delicately arched through her neatly braided hair.

“You’re awake,” she said, stopping close enough to touch. Cassian forgot about the pain of his back in favor of his fractured heart. He took a breath as the bond returned, snapping as it once had all those weeks before. He caught her eyes flutter shut, saw the flickering relief grace her features.

“You died.” 

It wasn’t a question. She didn’t open her eyes, didn’t move as she nodded her head. “Yes.”

The noise that escaped him drew her attention. Cassian didn’t care, reaching for her even as his legs gave out. The two of them fell to the floor in a heap of limbs, smooshed together as he tried to piece it all together. She’d gone in that Cauldron and he…he’d let it happen. 

“I’m sorry.”

Nesta twisted, mindful of his bound wings, so she could hold his face. “For what?”

“I promised to keep you safe—”

“I fought,” she whispered, interrupting him before he could fall apart. Tears pricked the back of Cassian’s eyes. “Just like you said. I took something, Cassian, I…”

Nesta swallowed, eyes darting toward the hall as though she expected someone to come bursting through.

“I think I came back wrong.”

Cassian shook his head. “No—no, you’re perfect. We’ll figure everything else out together. You…are…you’re living here?”

Nesta looked over his shoulder again, lowering her voice. “We can’t go back.”

We. Elain. “You’ll stay with me. I won’t leave you. Not again. Never again.”

Nesta pressed her forehead to his. “Okay.”

Raking his fingers through her hair, Cassian repeated himself. “I’m sorry, Nes. I’m so fucking sorry.”

But it was Nesta—sweet, too forgiving Nesta, even if no one but he knew it—who said, “I love you Cassian. There is nothing you could do I wouldn’t forgive.”

He didn’t plan to test that theory, though. “I love you, Nes. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

She took a breath. “Together.”

#nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian acotar #this is a DRABBLE #dont we all occasionally go insane and write 10k words in a day?

[theladyofdeath]

500 words or less! Either feysand or nessian finding out their having a baby!

Cassian had no idea how long he'd been standing in the bathroom, staring at the little stick that had the word pregnant on the tiny screen in little black letters.

He'd just gotten home from the gym and was getting in the shower when he accidentally dropped his phone in the trash next to the toilet. For a moment, he debated if it was even worth it - he knew what was in the trash of he and Nesta's master bathroom - but ultimately decided that he could bear a few germs to get to his $800 phone.

But then he found it.

The pregnancy test.

The pregnancy test that he'd been staring at, stark nude, since he'd found it.

Pregnant.

He was so stuck in shock that he hadn't heard the front door open, hadn't heard the footsteps down the hall, hadn't heard his wife come into their bedroom and freeze at the threshold of the bathroom.

"Cass."

He'd hardly heard his name, but although she hardly breathed it, it caught his attention just enough.

He turned to face her.

His cheeks were wet. He hadn't even realized he'd been crying.

Even in his state of undress, she met his eyes with the smallest of smiles. A hopeful smile.

"This is yours," Cassian said, holding it up. He felt like an idiot asking, but he needed the confirmation.

Nesta laughed, quietly. "Yes. It's mine. And yours, in case you were wondering."

He couldn't even comprehend her joke, he was too dumbfounded by the fact that he was going to be a father.

"I just found out this morning," Nesta went on, stepping towards him. "I was going to tell you at dinner tonight. I had a super cute idea planned that you just ruined by rifling through the trash, which is disgusting, by the way."

Still too stunned for her teasing, Cassian took her hand in his. "You're pregnant."

"Yeah."

"We're having a baby."

She laughed. "Yeah."

"Fuck," he breathed, which made her laugh louder, and then he was lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She'd just started squealing uncontrollably when she started smacking at him. He set her on her feet as he said, "Sorry, am I crushing you? Fuck, am I crushing the baby-"

"You stink," she said, still grinning as she dusted off her sweater - as if she could dust off his post-gym stench. "And you're naked."

"You never complained about my nakedness before," he said, one brow lifted. "Which is how we got to this point."

Nesta rolled her eyes - eyes that lingered down, then back up again. "Pig."

But when he reached out for her, she let him pull her back towards him and he kissed her softly. "I'm sorry I ruined your surprise."

"It's okay," she whispered, leaning up on her toes to kiss him again. "You're happy."

There was almost a hint of doubt there that Cassian wanted to quickly erase. "Yeah, Nes. Yeah, I'm happy. I'm really, really happy."

"Good," she breathed, the tension fading from her shoulders. "Me too."

In less than a year, they'd be a family of three, and although Cassian knew what a huge responsibility a child was, he couldn't even pretend to be stressed or nervous or scared.

He was too damn happy.

#nessian #500 words or less #500 words or less prompts #nesta #cassian #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nessian fanfic #nessian os #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #modern au #parenthood au #fanfic #fanfiction #tara answers prompts

[damedechance]

𝐒 𝐔 𝚸 𝚬 𝐑 𝐅 𝐑 𝚬 𝚨 𝐊

Part 2 of 5 updated:

✴ read on ao3

✴ listen to the playlist

Pairing: Nessian

Rating: E (explicit)

Summary: When her long-time partner bails on the business trip they had planned for weeks, Nesta Archeron finds herself in a bit of a bind. Finding someone to go to Italy with her for a week is easy, but finding someone who is also willing to make content with her for her adult social media platform? A little more difficult. Or, it should be, until Cassian comes to the rescue. (AKA: Nesta has an OnlyFans and Cassian offers to come with her on her business trip to Italy)

✴ read below for a brief snippet:

2. i'm 👁️ extremly 😫🦄 now and 🍑 I wish 😚 you meet me 🕳️ fast 👠

Of the possible suspects, only one was capable of the messy, illegible scrawl taking up space in the margins of Nesta’s new paperback. There were only two people–her roommates–who had access to this new volume before Nesta stuffed it in her carry on. One of them had a devout, if not aggravating at times, protectiveness over the pages of a book, as if they were to be held sacred.

The other was Gwyn.

Nesta sighed, flicking her lap tray up and sending it rattling against the back of the seat in front of her. It was quickly silenced by the press of her knees against it as she slouched lower in her seat. Even with the page nearly up against her nose, Nesta still couldn’t make out whatever annotation Gwyn had blotted next to the most arousing passage Nesta had ever read.

Or might have read, if the hieroglyphics next to it weren’t so distracting.

One might assume that a person so devoted to her research, a historian no less, would treat their book–other people’s books–with more care, but Gwyn seemed to forgo all matters of preservation she learned at work when it came to erotica. Nesta, of course, would argue that raunchy novels were perhaps more deserving of her respect, but it was usually drowned out by the imminent threat of spoilers.

Nesta squinted at the words, pressing the book flat against her thighs as she attempted to decipher the scrawl. ‘MMF hot?’ Nesta guessed. She was starting to suspect they might not be words at all, and that instead, Gwyn had desecrated her brand new book with a crude drawing.

Groaning, Nesta attempted to continue reading the paragraph she was on, but her mind kept drifting back to the annotation. She was unable to continue until she decoded it, no matter how desperately she wanted to get on with the book. She glared at it, until her neck started to get stuff and her vision started to swim, and was no closer to figuring it out when a voice beside her interrupted.

“You haven’t turned the page in ten minutes,” Cassian groaned. “Are you just ignoring me?”

“Yes,” Nesta supplied easily, though her eyes were still on her book. “And shut up, people are sleeping.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #nessian fanfic #nessian smut #acotar fanfic #modern au #nessian modern au #vacation au

[the-lonelybarricade]

In From the Snow - Chapter 1

Summary: With her sisters missing and her father dead, Nesta is forced to brave the coming winter and the contempt of her fellow villagers on her own. That is, until a mysterious dog appears and refuses to leave her side.

My contribution to @nessianweek Day 4: AU.

This is the Nessian installation to my They Are the Hunters series. While I would recommend reading the Elucien/Feysand stories, I did my best to give this story enough context to stand on its own. I really hope you enjoy!

Also shout out to Mr. LB for letting me borrow his computer to post this!

Read on AO3・Series Masterlist

-

The first snowfall of the year had always been a terrible omen.

Every year, as it laid siege to their poorly insulated cottage, Nesta’s family would wonder if they would live to see the snow melt in the spring.

This year, Nesta had known before the first snow arrived that their father would not survive the winter. His health had been deteriorating for a long time, and the news of Elain’s disappearance had devastated him, accelerating his decline until he could do little more than sleep beside the fire. She was a wretch for thinking it, but Nesta had long decided the day he didn’t wake up would be a relief. It was one less mouth to feed, especially when that mouth was hardly capable of swallowing for itself.

The firewood was dwindling. Nesta had used up so much of the excess in the days she had refused to leave the house, expecting the authorities to be waiting just beyond the front door, ready to carry Nesta and her father away to certain death. It didn’t matter if Feyre had been the one to steal the traveler’s horse or that Elain had allegedly been the one to murder her own husband. Neither were here to show for their crimes.

But the authorities never came. And her sisters never returned.

Surely, if either of them had been caught, the authorities would have come for the remainder of the Archerons? Nesta hadn’t yet braved the village to confirm, which meant that she and her father were on the brink of starvation, too.

Given that Nesta’s own constitution was rapidly weakening with the cold, it was no surprise at all that when the first snowfall visited in the night, it took their father with it. She didn’t feel relief when he didn’t open his eyes the next morning. She felt… numb.

Like her face when she opened the cottage door to a blast of frozen air. Like her fingers as she gripped the splintering shovel. Like her palms, rubbed raw from the repetitive motion of digging the metal into the cold, solid earth, then depositing it into a pile at her side.

Nesta had never had a good relationship with her father. She had always assumed that when he died, Elain would be there to express whatever sweet sentiment she felt he was owed at his burial. Unlike Elain, Nesta buried him in silence—just as he had been on the day Elain set down on a path to be married to a Lord’s son against her will.

Elain had never blamed him. Had always insisted it was out of his hands, just like their mother’s death. Just like their family’s fall from fortune when they were children. Elain was quick to forgive, always focused on what lay ahead. But Elain had never looked at their father’s ledger. Nesta had.

Not that any of it mattered now. Their father was dead, and Nesta likely wouldn’t be far behind. At least there had been someone to bury him in the ground, which was more than she could say for herself.

That night, she drank a cup of boiled water and fell asleep curled up beneath a thin blanket in front of the hearth. The fire crackled, close enough to coat her face and hair in soot as the snow continued mercilessly falling outside. Nesta knew that if she didn’t go to the village in the morning to find something to eat, soon she would be too weak to make the trip. And she would die.

By the time she fell asleep, she hadn’t decided which she would prefer.

She woke to sunlight filtering through the frosted window pane and the sound of scratching at her door. Nesta stilled, reaching for the fireplace poker as she wondered if this was it. Someone from the village had finally come for her. The authorities? Or was it just someone taking advantage of a lone, defenseless woman?

A creature sniffed at the small gap between the rickety door and the cold cottage floor. Gods, had someone brought their dog to chase her down? Nesta held her breath, watching the shadow pass in front of her door. Once, twice, three times, like it was moving in slow circles. And then it laid down, effectively barricading her in. She listened carefully for any sound of someone commanding the creature. There was only howling wind.

Fine, Nesta thought, creeping carefully into the room she had once shared with her sisters. The bed felt so empty without them—so much colder than sleeping in front of the fire. The room had a single window, just big enough for her to crawl through to make her escape. She pushed the latch open as quietly as she could and pulled herself through the gap.

Her landing was not overly graceful but quiet enough that she thought she wouldn’t be heard over the wind. Yet, when she turned to make her break, there it was. A dog so large she could have mistaken it for a bear. It had come around the house to watch her sneak out the window, and now it sat directly in her path.

It cocked its head, hazel eyes curious. If she didn’t know better—and she did—Nesta would have thought it looked amused with her stunt. Keeping him in her periphery, Nesta turned her head to assess if its owner was nearby, but nobody was around.

He didn’t look vicious. But he also didn’t look like a stray. He looked too well-fed, and his coat was clean. Well-groomed.

“Go home,” she said, making a small, shooing motion. “I don’t have any food to give myself, let alone some overgrown mutt.”

He was blocking the only way to the village. Ang grinning like he knew it. Cautiously, Nesta took a small step forward, then another, weighing the animal’s reaction. His posture remained friendly enough that she kept moving, still giving him a wide berth once she was on the main path.

The dog swiveled to face her as she stepped around him. And when she started down the path towards the village, he followed. The entire shivering trudge there, Nesta tried to convince him to leave. She’d have enough trouble convincing someone to sell her bread on her own, let alone with a gigantic dog following at her heels. Feyre’s cat had been the exact same way, and Nesta wondered why animals seemed to adopt such strange fixations on their family.

“Go,” she tried one last miserable time on the outskirts of the village. When he still refused, she stomped the rest of the way to the baker’s shop, determined to pretend the stupid thing wasn’t there at all.

It was harder to do so when she saw the baker’s face. “Nesta,” he said warily. His attention flickered to the dog at her feet, then back to her face. She didn’t miss the way his nose curled with distaste. “Hello.”

Never mind all the hours she had spent tutoring his daughter, then. Years of fostering goodwill with his family in exchange for a stale loaf of bread, dismissed on rumor that Elain might have murdered her husband. The village acted like the Archerons had the plague, and even if Elain had murdered Graysen, the reaction was certainly overblown. As far as Nesta was concerned, the Nolan men had been insufferable, and Elain had done the village a favor.

“Hi.” She pressed three copper pieces to the counter. “I just need one loaf.”

He stared at the copper pieces, not moving to collect them.

“What’s wrong?” She asked hotly. “My family’s coin was perfectly fine a month ago.”

“I’ve increased the price,” he said stiffly, pushing the coin back with his arm. Like touching the same coin would somehow mark him as the next Archeron victim. “This is not enough.”

“You used to charge me a copper,” she seethed.

He gestured towards the window. “Winter has fallen. Times are growing harder.”

“And if I asked Claire Beddor how much you charged her family this morning, what would she say?”

The baker shrugged, calling her bluff. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Claire Beddor wouldn’t speak to her. No one would. Not since Tomas, and certainly not since Lord Graysen’s murder.

Gritting her teeth, Nesta pushed a copper onto the table. The baker stared blankly at her, until she slammed down another. He shook his head.

“This is all we have,” Nesta said desperately, even though it wasn’t true. Feyre had stolen enough from the passing traveler to feed them for months—or it would have been if the villagers weren’t raising their prices out of contempt.

The baker opened his mouth, and Nesta truly believed he was going to send her onto the street to starve when the dog at her side began growling. The baker took one look at the creature’s bared teeth and turned pale. He quickly grabbed the extortionate amount of money from the counter and tossed a loaf at Nesta with a strained, “Get out of my shop.”

She’d take it, even if her blood was boiling. The loaf would be enough to last her a week, at least. It would buy her time to figure out how to deal with the villagers. What to do with the remaining coin. If she could just find someone willing to sell her passage to Velaris, it would be enough to get to Elain. But no one from this village would be willing to help.

“Here,” Nesta said, pausing outside her cottage door. The dog stopped with her, watching curiously as she tore a piece from the loaf of bread and held it aloft. “You take this, and we’ll be even, okay? You’ll leave me alone. Deal?”

The dog nodded, though she was certain that had more to do with how she bobbed the piece of bread in the air.

“Ready?” She said, raising the piece over her head. He shuffled back, keeping his eyes on the piece of bread. “Go get it!”

Then Nesta launched it as far as she could towards the treeline, watching as the dog launched itself after it, disappearing in the shadow. She used the opportunity to quickly slip back inside the cottage, hoping that when he returned to see the door was closed and that she wasn’t going to let him in, he would move on to harass someone else.

-

Nesta woke the next morning to a strange, rhythmic thud cleaving through the forest.

She wasn’t certain if it was the sound or the vibrations that trembled through the old wooden floorboards of the cottage that eventually dragged her from sleep. She rose, blearily fixing her eyes on the hearth that had died at some point in the night, the soot now jostling loose with each powerful blow outside.

Her concern was delayed, seeping slowly through the cracks of the frost-fogged window as she slowly steadied herself in the waking world. It didn’t take long, though, for the ice to leak through and grip her chest tightly.

Then, she was crawling toward the window, careful to keep herself obscured as she slowly raised her face to the frozen glass. It wasn’t the villagers finally come to mob her, thankfully. Though she couldn’t say for certain that the strange man standing over her family’s splitting block was any less alarming.

He held a familiar long-handled axe in his large bare hands. Nesta couldn’t count how often Feyre had warned her not to leave the axe outside. Enough times for Nesta to leave it willingly, half in pettiness and half because she couldn’t stand the sight of the thing. And now it was in a stranger’s hand, lifted over his dark head of hair with discomforting ease before he let it fall onto the upright block of wood he’d placed atop the flared stump. A clean, precise cut.

The man didn’t even survey his perfect work before he chucked the two pieces aside into the pile of wood he’d accumulated over what looked to be hours. Or maybe not. He retrieved another block and split it beneath the axe so quickly that Nesta didn’t doubt he’d be able to clear the whole forest by nightfall. He didn’t even stop to wipe a broad hand across his brow before he was chopping the next block, then the next.

Drawing away from the window, Nesta quickly surveyed the kitchen for something—anything—she could use to defend herself against a man with an axe. A knife seemed useless, but… Feyre had left her bow and arrow behind when she’d fled the village. Nesta didn’t know how to use it, not as effectively as Feyre, but he didn’t know that.

Feyre tried to teach her once. A few winters ago, when the harsh conditions had brought Elain looking so close to death that Nesta had felt desperate enough to learn. But she’d barely caught so much as a rabbit mimicking Feyre’s techniques, and by the time spring rolled around, Nesta resigned the skill back to her sister and took to other avenues of ensuring their survival, like making friendly with the woodcutter’s son.

Not that any of it mattered anymore. All that was left of her family was the rotting cottage and Feyre’s abandoned bow. Her youngest sister might have laughed had she been there to witness Nesta kick the door open with the string pulled to the corner of her lip.

The man paused with the axe raised over his head. He looked over at her, blinking as he took in the notched arrow pointed towards him, then her dressing gown, her bare feet. He raised a dark, slitted brow and grinned slowly as he rested the axe casually over his broad shoulder.

“Careful, sweetheart.” A pair of unnervingly clever hazel eyes raked her over. There was an edge to them, a wildness that seemed well suited to the forest at his back. “You’re going to poke someone’s eye out with that thing.”

“Get off my property.” Her breath clouded in front of her face. So did his—steady puffs of air through his wide nose, a sharp contrast to her heavy exhale even though he had been the one chopping wood.

Did he notice her ragged breath, her trembling hands? Hopefully, he was too busy eying her nightgown, how it’d been sewn for a body a few years younger, tight in the chest and hips because they hadn’t been able to afford a replacement in years.

“Or you’ll what,” he said, with infuriating calm, “shoot me?”

She tightened her grip, pulled the string back further like she intended to release.

He laughed. “Go ahead.”

He believed she didn’t have it in her, the bastard. Nesta kept the bow trained on him, entertaining shooting him just for the crime of underestimating her. “Why are you chopping wood here?”

“I thought this house was abandoned.”

Lie. He’d have been able to see the smoke drifting from the chimney in the hatched roof. Though, Nesta had no way of knowing when the fire had died while she slept. She wished she could go back in and feel the stone to gauge how recently it had stopped burning.

“And why would you be chopping wood at an abandoned house?”

He set down the axe. Her axe. And raised his palms as though in surrender. “I was planning to sell it.”

“You’re going to sell the wood,” she repeated.

“Yes,” he said proudly.

“At the village?”

“That is typically where one sells wood, is it not?”

“I’ve never seen you before,” Nesta said, examining his clothes. His winter cape, lined with wolf pelts she would have believed he’d hunted himself, had been discarded in the snow, leaving him in a belted fur-lined tunic of simple make. A pair of leather gloves was tucked into his belt, and his dark hair was tied off his face, though pieces of it hung loose at his temples, his neck. Better off than a common woodcutter, but certainly no lord’s son. “We already have a woodcutter in this village.”

“Is there not room for two?”

The Mandrays wouldn’t think so. It wasn’t Nesta’s problem, but it could be. If they knew he had been at this cottage first, chopping his wood here. Thomas was already looking for any excuse to throw her at the village’s mercy and with the rumors surrounding Elain and now Feyre… Nesta didn’t think she would survive whatever retribution Thomas would seek if he thought she had any association with this woodcutter.

“No,” she said, tipping her chin defiantly. Her fingers were growing numb, the string crooked round her finger cutting off whatever circulation was left. She gritted her teeth. “Go terrorize the next village over.”

As if he didn’t hear her, the man unlooped the belt around his waist and began gathering the wood into a pile.

“I said stop,” she hissed.

“What if I offer you a cut of my profits?”

Not good enough. The villagers wouldn’t take her money. They’d sooner accuse her of stealing it and hang her for the crime.

Besides, she didn’t trust a strange man threatened beneath a bow to return with any measure of good intentions. Particularly not once he discovered she was here alone, with no father or sisters or anyone to protect her, to hear her scream. It was better if this man forgot who she was. All she needed was to survive the winter, then she could attempt the journey to Velaris in the spring. And surviving meant keeping her head down, her mouth shut. Her bow unstrung.

“Leave a few pieces of wood,” she said. “And tell no one that you were here. That’s my price.”

There was something very dangerous about how his mouth quirked to the side. He began placing several logs in a new pile as he asked casually, “Afraid of making one of the boys in the village jealous?”

Nesta’s spine straightened. He might be asking out of ordinary interest, like any gentleman might inquire if a lady’s heart was taken. But from the predatory way he watched her, the way those eyes practically begged her to release her fingers on the drawstring, she thought it was more likely that he was probing for information, determining whether someone would come looking for her if he decided this cottage and its sole occupant were ripe for the taking.

“No one will buy from you if they knew where you chopped this wood,” she said, praying that alone would deter him.

His laughter rumbled through his chest. “Is that because you threaten all your guests with a bow?” Nesta thought it sounded oddly like a question and a compliment in one. She kept the arrow trained on him, kept her jaw clenched as he grinned. “Alright, alright. Understood.” He crouched to grab his cape, throwing it carelessly over his shoulder before lifting the stack of wood by the makeshift sling. He offered a nod of farewell as he set down the path towards the village, “See you around, then, sweetheart.”

Nesta waited until the sound of footsteps faded, and his large frame was eclipsed entirely by trees before she lowered the bow. He’d left the axe behind, embedded in the wood, and she cautiously ventured forward to retrieve it, as well as the generous pile of wood he’d left behind.

She hoped he was wrong. She hoped she never saw him again.

But she couldn’t get the sight of his eyes out of her mind. The way he’d watched her with a hunger that she knew intimately. Her heart was racing in fear, she told herself. If she’d learned anything from her sisters, it was that the desire of men was dangerous.

So when she heard something sniffing and scratching outside her door later that evening and peeked through the window to see the dog lying in front of the cottage, she let it inside.

Just in case the man returned and expected to find her alone.

#Nessian #Nessian fic #Nessian fanfic #Nessian fanfiction #Nesta x Cassian #Cassian x Nesta #They Are the Hunters #In From the Snow #Nessianweek2023

[xtaketwox]

It Looks As Though You're Letting Go

Summary: Everyone is born with an arrow on the back of their hand which points to their soulmate at midnight on their eighteenth birthday. After her parents' disastrous marriage and her father's subsequent depression following her mother's death, Nesta realized a soulmate is nothing more than guaranteed heartache and ruination. On the eve of her eighteenth birthday, she packs up her car and leaves her family and life behind forever. What she doesn't count on, however, is having a soulmate like Cassian, who may be the one to prove to her that a soulmate is what she needs.

Fic Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None

Chapter Word Count: 4589

Based on this prompt

Read on AO3, Fic Masterlist

@nessianweek

A/N: There are 5 chapters to this. I'll be updating roughly every other day.

Chapter 1

Love is a disease and soulmates a virus. 

This was what Nesta concluded when her mother died and her father withered away in his grief. Her parents had been soulmates, and that hadn’t stopped their marriage from being terrible. Her mother was overbearing and couldn’t stand that Nesta’s father drifted through life. Her father saw how Nesta’s mother verbally abused their daughters and wouldn’t risk her wrath by stepping in to stop it.

By the time Nesta was sixteen, she made up her mind to reject her soulmate, if she had one. The arrow on her hand—the same arrow that everyone was born with—was nothing but a reminder of bad childhood memories. If it pointed elsewhere on her eighteenth birthday, she would simply ignore it. 

Also at sixteen, she decided that as soon as she turned eighteen, she was going to leave her family, go somewhere nobody knew her, and start fresh. She felt more than a little guilt at leaving her sisters behind, given it took all three of them working more than one job to keep food on the table, but she couldn’t stand to be around the reminder of her father and his willingness to do nothing to keep food and roof over their head. She thought about letting Elain and Feyre know where she was going, but decided it was too risky, especially the way Elain doted on their father. More than anything, she wanted to keep her father from knowing where she was living.

Surprisingly, neither Elain nor Feyre tried to talk Nesta out of leaving as she packed up her car the evening before her eighteenth birthday. They had sold most of their valuables years before, so all Nesta really had were a few books and clothes. She wasn’t planning to go far, just the big city a couple hours away, but she didn’t correct her sisters when they asked if they could fly to visit her. 

She had graduated high school early, despite having to work every weeknight and weekend, and planned to go to community college her first couple years. She hoped to mitigate the damage her inevitable student loans caused her later in life with the combo of community college and a full time job. 

Unsurprisingly, her father had never asked about Nesta’s plans, nor did he deign to notice she was leaving. An hour before she was officially eighteen, she hugged her sisters goodbye, promised to email them, and drove away. 

When the clock struck midnight, Nesta was halfway to her destination. She planned to ignore that arrow on her hand but when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision, she glanced down, scowling at the arrow which now pointed behind her, right back toward the place she just left. She gripped the steering wheel, forcing herself to ignore that voice in the back of her head telling her to go find whomever that arrow was pointing to. Instead, she turned up her radio and drove.

She arrived at the loft she’d rented above a twenty-four hour diner at a little past one in the morning. She had signed the lease a week ago and was told to stop in the diner for her key. 

Her landlord was an eccentric older woman who owned the diner, and who preferred to be in her office overnight. Fewer people to deal with she had said. Nesta had been fortunate enough to find the loft above the diner just as the owner was looking for a new waitress. She handed Nesta her key and her new apron and told her to remember her shift started at six.

Nesta emptied her car and laid out a blanket and pillow on the carpeted floor to try to get a couple hours sleep in before she started her new job. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t until nearly halfway through his day that Cassian realized the arrow on his hand had changed. His heart sped up. In the four years since he’d turned eighteen, he’d repeatedly denied being sad he didn’t have a soulmate, while secretly holding out hope that his soulmate just hadn’t turned eighteen yet. With every year that passed, however, that hope decreased.

But there it was, pointing to the left. 

He immediately walked into his supervisor’s office and said, “I’m taking the rest of the day off.” 

He didn’t wait to find out if his supervisor protested before walking back out. Hopefully he had a job when he came back, but if not, he’d find a new one. Besides, everyone wanted a soulmate. His boss would understand the extenuating circumstances when Cassian explained his arrow had finally moved. 

He got in his car and looked down at his hand. He pulled up a map on his phone, trying to decide which roads to take that didn’t have him driving all over the city. He frowned when he realized his arrow seemed to be pointing in the direction of the interstate. 

He shrugged. This was important. If he had to drive somewhere far, he knew it would be worth it. He put his phone down and headed towards the interstate, glancing at his hand every few minutes to make sure the direction hadn’t changed. 

He started to get uneasy when he entered the big city a couple hours later, wondering if how much further he’d have to go, when his arrow changed direction. He cursed and quickly changed lanes to make the next left. He probably looked like a maniac, changing lanes rapidly every few minutes, but eventually, he came to a twenty-four hour diner and the arrow on his hand pointed inside. He parked, walked to the door of the diner, and took a deep breath, his heart thumping hard in his chest as he pulled open the door. 

He knew which woman was his soulmate the moment he saw her, a quick glance down at his hand confirming it. She was so beautiful she stole his breath away, with her golden brown hair braided in a crown above her head, accentuating her graceful neck, reminding him of a ballerina.

She glanced at him, a harried expression on her face as she carried several plates to a table at the far end of the diner. “Sit wherever you like. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Cassian forced himself to sit in the closest booth, trying and failing not to stare as she made her way across the diner. She seemed to be the only person working, although it was between lunch and dinner, so the diner wasn’t currently busy. 

After several minutes, she walked up, set a glass of water in front of him, and asked him what he’d like to order. Cassian was dumbstruck by her eyes, a silvery blue that almost didn’t even look real. She wasn’t even looking at him and he felt pinned to the spot. 

“Sir?”

Cassian blinked, realizing he was staring like a moron. Get it together, asshat, he told himself. “Uh. I need a minute, but I’ll take a coke for now.”

She nodded and turned away before he could think of anything else to say to her. Now that he was here, he had no idea how to even begin to introduce himself. She was clearly too busy to notice that the arrow on her hand was pointing towards him. He realized it must be her birthday if the arrow on his hand had only just started pointing towards her. He wondered what sort of life she lived if she couldn’t even take her eighteenth birthday off. 

When she came back, he ordered the first thing he could see on the menu. He watched her waltz around the diner, refilling glasses and taking orders. When everyone was taken care of, he saw her close her eyes and sag a bit. 

He frowned. Now that he wasn’t feeling so dumbstruck by how beautiful she was, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. She was clearly exhausted. He wondered how much she would hate him if he offered her what little savings he had, if only to take some of the stress off her.

Probably a lot. If it were the other way around, he certainly would be insulted. Still…it tugged at his heart to see her looking so exhausted.

When he finished his meal, she refilled his coke and left his check. He pulled out his card, setting it on top of the check at the edge of the table. When she returned with his receipt to sign, he gave her a tip more than double the entirety of his bill.

She grabbed the receipt, freezing when she saw the tip amount. Her eyes snapped to his. “What is this?”

He forced himself not to shift. “Your tip. Happy birthday.”

He realized his mistake the second her eyes narrowed. “How do you know it’s my birthday.”

“Uh—” 

She scowled, understanding in her eyes when he hid his hand under the table. “Leave.”

She started to walk away and Cassian scrambled to follow her, grabbing her shoulder and promptly dropping it when she sent a withering glare in his direction.

“Wait,” he started, not even caring that his tone was pleading, “I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner.”

The bell over the door rang and she glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll be right with you,” she said to the patron. Turning her gaze back to him she said, “Leave. I want nothing to do with you.”

Cassian frowned. “But we’re soulmates.”

She shrugged, stepping around him. “I don’t care what we are. I want nothing to do with you.”

He watched her in a daze as she went to help the new patron. He only realized he was still staring at her when she glanced back and glared at him. Turning, he headed back towards his car.

What had he done wrong? Perhaps he shouldn’t have given her such a big tip. Maybe she was insulted. He couldn’t understand why else anyone would turn their soulmate away. Everyone wanted a soulmate, especially since not everyone had one. 

He sat in his car, but couldn’t make himself start the ignition. He couldn’t just return home without at least finding out her name. She hadn’t been wearing a name tag, so he had no idea how else to find her, and didn’t exactly want to drive around following the arrow on his hand all the time. 

An hour later, he was still sitting in his car, lost in thought, when he saw her leave the diner. He quickly exited the car, jogging to reach her. 

“Excuse me!”

She and every other person on the sidewalk turned towards him, her face morphing back into a scowl when she realized it was him who had called out. He didn’t let her obvious irritation deter him.

“Please wait,” he said as she turned away from him and started walking down the road at a brisk pace. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

He ignored the curious gazes of the people around them as he caught up to her, matching her pace. “Please, I want to apologize.”

She stopped so quickly, he hardly had time to stop. She crossed her arms. “For what?”

“For angering you.”

“You didn’t anger me.”

Cassian snorted. “Your scowl says otherwise.” He nearly smiled when her scowl deepened. “I shouldn’t have hidden who I was from you. I’m sorry. You have every right to be upset at me.”

“I’m not upset.” She said the words too quickly to be convincing. “I don’t care who you are or why you’re here. I just want to be left alone. I have no interest in a soulmate.”

He shook his head. “But why? Everyone wants a soulmate.”

She shrugged, hugging herself closer. “I don’t.”

They stood silently, her pretending to ignore him while Cassian tried to make sense of her hostility. “Can I at least learn your name?” He held out his hand. “I’m Cassian.”

She stared at his hand and even though her expression didn’t change, he got the sense she was warring with herself. He nearly sighed in relief when she slid her hand into his, shaking it once. “Nesta.” 

She pulled her hand back, crossing her arms again and looking away. He tried to think of anything he could say or do to keep talking to her. “Can I walk you somewhere, Nesta. Wherever you’re headed, I can walk with you.” When her lips thinned, he quickly added. “We don’t even have to talk.”

Her cheeks grew red, though what she had to be embarrassed about, he had no idea. “Fine.” She turned around without waiting for him and strode back in the opposite direction. He jogged lightly to catch up, stuffing his hands in his pockets to keep himself from grabbing hers. After thirty steps, she stopped back in front of the diner, or rather a door just to the right of the entrance. 

“Thank you for the walk home,” she said, turning to unlock the door. 

“This is where you live?” 

She didn’t answer him, pushing the door open and heading through. He rushed to shove his foot in the door when she went to slam it, glad he was wearing his heavy duty work boots. “Wait. Please.”

Nesta exhaled through her nose. “What?”

Cassian scrambled for something to say. “I just…can we talk?”

“About what?”

“Anything?” He placed his hand on the door, pushing gently, relieved when Nesta let him, merely backing up enough to let him inside. There was nothing behind her but a flight of stairs presumably leading to an apartment above the diner. “I just want to get to know you.”

Nesta shook her head. “I told you. I don’t want a soulmate.”

Cassian ran his hand through his hair. “Fine. We don’t have to be soulmates.” He was desperate. “Can we just be friends?”

Nesta’s throat bobbing as she swallowed was the only outward sign that she might not be as calm as she appeared. “To what end? We can’t just pretend we’re not soulmates. It doesn’t work like that.”

Cassian reached for a wisp of hair that had come out of her braid, winding it around his finger and tugging it gently. “It does if we say it does.” He took the fact that she hadn’t immediately turned him down as a good sign. “Please, Nes.”

“Don’t call me that.” Her words lacked anger, however, which he took as a good sign that she was caving. “We need rules.”

Cassian nodded, so happy she wasn’t immediately turning him down that he would likely have agreed to anything. “Of course.”

“We each pay for ourselves when we hang out.”

“I can do that.”

“No kissing.”

He nodded solemnly, already trying to think of ways to get around that one. “Naturally.”

She paused and he took the moment to brush his thumb against her cheek. “Anything else?”

She grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from her face. “If either one of us falls in love, it’s over.”

Cassian recoiled. “What?”

Nesta’s eyes turned to steel. “The minute either of us falls in love, we don’t talk to each other ever again.”

“Nesta—”

“Those are my terms. Take them or leave them.”

Cassian could see that she was serious and felt a rock drop in the pit of his stomach. There was no chance that he wouldn’t fall for her if they started hanging out. He was already desperate to do just about anything to see her. What would he do if she demanded they never see one another again? He grew nauseated at the thought, but nodded his head. 

“Of course. Whatever you want, Nes.”

She held out her hand and he shook it in a daze. This was a terrible idea. How was he going to avoid getting his heart broken? 

Nesta held out her phone. “Put your number in.” 

Cassian grabbed it, entering his number and texting himself before handing it back. Nesta turned around and walked up the steps. “I’m running on two hours of sleep, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t invite you inside.”

Cassian watched her until she disappeared inside her apartment. 

There was no chance he wouldn’t get his heart broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nesta slept straight through the afternoon until her alarm went off the next day at five am. She groaned as she shut off the alarm, forcing herself to roll out of the bed. She padded to the kitchen, blinking in an attempt to wake herself up as she filled a glass of water and downed it. She hadn’t had time to do any grocery shopping the day before, so she told her growling stomach to shut up as she headed for the bathroom. 

She rinsed her body in the shower, making a promise to herself to take a real shower after her shift. As she pulled on her uniform, she wondered if life would ever get easier, or if she’d always be scraping by. 

Her mind drifted to Cassian, her traitorous heart giving a hard thump as his face flitted across her mind. If nothing else, at least the universe had deigned to give her a hot soulmate. 

She pulled the pins out of her head, wincing as her hair fell out of it’s crown. She definitely should have taken her hair down before sleeping for fifteen hours. She unbraided her hair, running her fingers through it and scratching at her scalp before she carefully combed it back out and rebraided it, her mind still on Cassian.

It was monumentally stupid of her to agree to be friends with him. There was a snowball’s chance in hell that it didn’t end badly, because she already knew she wouldn’t budge on falling in love, and if the desperation in his eyes was any indication, he almost certainly would. She went back to her kitchen to drink another glass of water before she had to walk down to her shift, hoping to trick her stomach into believing she wasn’t hungry. 

When Cassian entered the diner several hours later, Nesta rolled her eyes even as her heart skipped a beat. She marched over to him, glaring.

“How can I help you,” she said, making sure to heavily infuse her tone with annoyance. 

Cassian, completely undeterred, grinned up at her. “Good morning, Nesta.”

“Is it?” she responded. 

“Well, I get to see you,” he said, leaning back and resting his arm along the back of the booth, “so it definitely is a good morning.”

“I’m working.”

“And I’m just here to enjoy more of the delicious food and company this fine establishment offers.”

Nesta snorted to hide her amusement. “If you aren’t going to order, then I’m going to go find something else productive to do.”

“What do you recommend?” he asked. 

Nesta shrugged. “It’s my second day here and I haven’t eaten anything, so I couldn’t tell you what’s good.”

Someone caught her eye, holding up their coffee cup. Nesta nodded at them, slightly annoyed they were hailing her like some kind of servant. She turned back to Cassian.

“I have to go refill that guy’s coffee. Figure out what you want to eat and I’ll be back.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond before turning to grab the coffee pot and refill the patron’s cup. She could feel Cassian’s eyes following her around the room, and tried to ignore the way her heart raced at the thought. She couldn’t afford to be distracted, not given that her livelihood rested on tip money.

When she returned to the table much later than she’d intended, she quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone that long, but that group came in and immediately started ordering beverages and time slipped away from me—”

Cassian placed a hand on her arm. “It’s fine. I’m not angry.”

Nesta jolted at the feel of his skin on hers and jerked herself away, swallowing hard as her face heated. “Do you know what you want?”

Cassian smirked up at her. “Now there’s a loaded question.” His smirk morphed into a smile as Nesta opened her mouth to retort. Before she could, he said, “I’ll just take the scrambled eggs with bacon and toast. And some coffee.”

Nesta nodded, turning away to put his order in. She took several deep breaths, willing the heat to receded from her face. It was only one touch. How could a single brush of skin cause such a heated reaction. She inhaled deeply through her nose and straightened her spine. That would never happen again. Clearly they would have to avoid touching. 

Cassian stayed through lunch, ordering something every so often to avoid having her kick him out. It might have made her angry if she wasn’t also secretly delighted by their ongoing conversations. 

After lunch, he politely asked for the bill, leaving her a tip that should have made her angry but which also secretly delighted her. If nothing else, he was ensuring she was well paid for the time she spent waiting on him. Once he left, she ignored the disappointment coursing through her and focused on finishing her last couple of hours, also ignoring her empty stomach. A meal was technically included in her job description but she hadn’t had the time to eat anything.

When her shift was finally over, she took her apron off, sighing internally at the reminder that she still had to run to the grocery store if she wanted to eat anything. Walking out the door, she stopped short when she saw Cassian standing by the door, several grocery bags hanging off each arm. 

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I thought you might be in need of something to eat,” he replied. “By my calculations, you just arrived in town and probably don’t have any food. I thought I could make you dinner, and picked up some extra essentials while I was out.”

“Are you rich or something?” Nesta blurted out. 

Cassian laughed. “No. In fact, I might be jobless. I’ve skipped the past day and a half.”

Nesta shook her head. “Then how can you afford to do all this?”

Cassian shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Except to Nesta, who had been working since she was legally able, it was. No one had ever helped her, not even her own parents. She unlocked her door and ran up the stairs, leaving Cassian to manage up the stairs on his own as she blinked away tears. 

She sniffed, keeping her back to him as he followed her through the door. She gestured in the general direction of her kitchen. “You can put everything there. I don’t have anything though. I’m…going to go get changed.”

She escaped to her bathroom, stopping to grab a change of clothes on her way in, and closed the door, taking several deep breaths and forcing the tears away. She would not be swayed by something as ridiculous as groceries. She refused. She peeled off her uniform, wondering how much of a bitch it would make her to request Cassian go grab some laundry detergent for her, and took the shower she promised herself that morning. 

Feeling refreshed when she got out, she threw on her clothes, combing her hair and leaving it to cascade down her back in wet waves. Her scalp needed a break after nearly forty-eight hours in a braid. She walked back out and then stopped in her tracks when she saw what greeted her. 

Cassian was plating up food onto paper plates. It wasn’t anything fancy, just some spaghetti with what looked like canned pasta sauce and some garlic bread, but to Nesta it might as well have been steak from a five star restaurant. Her mouth started watering at the sight.

“Where did you get the pots to cook that in?” she asked. She had been planning on spending Cassian’s tip money on some cooking pots and at least one set of dinnerware. 

Cassian smiled as he walked over and put the paper plates onto a blanket she didn’t recognize on the floor. “I figured you didn’t have anything, so I bought a couple cheap ones at the grocery store.”

Nesta felt her throat tighten. “Thank you,” she croaked. 

Cassian frowned up at her, concerned. “You’re welcome?” When she didn’t move from the doorway he added, “It wasn’t that big a deal. They’re not great quality, so you’ll probably want to get something else anyway.”

Nesta shook her head, unwilling to tell him how he was the first person to ever take care of her like this. It felt too vulnerable. She walked over to the blanket and sat, her stomach growling loudly when she picked up her plate. She blushed, but began eating, closing her eyes and groaning when the food hit her tongue. When was the last time she had even eaten? It might have been two days ago, before she left home. 

She made for poor company as she began stuffing her face, not caring for once how she looked as she shoveled food into her mouth. She couldn’t stop the litany of satisfied noises she made with each mouthful. Surely there was nothing special about this spaghetti, but to her it tasted like the best spaghetti on the planet.

As soon as she finished her plate, she stood for seconds. When she turned around to go sit back down, she halted at the look of horror on Cassian’s face. She raised her chin. “What?”

She expected him to make a comment about how unladylike she was eating, but instead he asked, “When was the last time you ate?”

She looked away, returning to sit on the floor. She would need to scour the internet for some cheap furniture soon. Not to mention she needed a real mattress to sleep on. “None of your business.”

She returned to eating, though now that her stomach wasn’t as empty, she did slow down to eat with more decorum. The silence was deafening as she ignored Cassian’s eyes on her. 

Eventually she set her plate down and glared at him. “It doesn’t matter when I ate last. I’m eating now and I won’t go hungry in the future. I just didn’t have time to go to the grocery store yesterday.”

Cassian’s eyes looked worried as he frowned at her. She huffed. “I don’t need you to worry about me, Cassian. I just haven’t had the time until today. I’m not going to starve.”

His expression hardened. “No, you’re not.”

She set her plate down. “What does that mean?”

“It means, I’ll be making sure you have food.”

“I’m not your responsibility and I don’t need your help.”

Cassian shrugged, picking up his plate. “Well, you’ll have it anyway.”

For some reason, his words lit a fire in Nesta’s temper. “Get out,” she said through her teeth.

Cassian looked at her, surprised. “What?”

Her hands balled into fists. “Get out of my house.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Get out!” she yelled, closing her eyes to reign her temper, knowing she was being unreasonable.

There was a pause before Cassian simply said, “Ok.”

Nesta kept her eyes closed, hands balled into fists, until she heard the door close. She loosed a breath as she opened her eyes, her eyes immediately going to the plate of spaghetti in front of her. Her throat tightened as guilt rose and threatened to choke her.

She was such a bitch.

#nesta archeron #cassian #nessian #nessianweek2023 #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nessian fanfic

[duskandstarlight]

The Girl (Part One)

Notes: All I can do is write modern AU lately, so here is the first part of The Girl (see here for the prologue). Forgive me of any typos - I've glanced over it but I just wanted to get this out. Enjoy!

Part One: Nesta

It can’t be happening. That’s Nesta’s first thought as she sits at the large mahogany dining table at her sister’s birthday dinner and watches a man that’s horribly familiar duck beneath the doorframe. Yet… it’s undeniable. Same broad frame, same leather jacket, same rugged features. Same tattoos peeking over his collar and licking up his neck. Same shoulder-length black hair scraped back into a haphazard knot. 

Nesta manages to stop the shock that seizes her, catching it before it ever makes its way onto her expression. But the man isn’t as successful. It’s only a heartbeat, but it’s there as he sits down at the table, looks up as he’s mid-way between tucking in his chair and see’s… her. The girl he fucked on his sofa only two days prior. 

Then the shock and recognition is gone as swiftly as it arrived and that questionable beat where Nesta thinks she’s well and truly foiled vanishes.

It seems it’s not only her that wears masks.

They go through the necessary motions. The cordial civility Nesta despises. They pretend they have never met and Nesta tries not to flinch in surprise when he suddenly extends his hand to her over the table.

It’s an offering. It’s a ruse that Nesta is adamant on keeping.

So, she reaches across the table and clasps the same calloused hand that had cupped her ass a few nights before - as if they’re in some Cauldron-damn business meeting.

She tries not to remember that night the moment they touch. The molten heat that had burned between them. The way it had licked up her spine, all consuming.

“Nesta.” The man repeats after her slowly, as if he’s trying her name out on his tongue. Savouring it. His voice is so deep that it’s a delicious scrape across her skin and his eyes are a pool of hazel as he meets her gaze full on, unflinching - an amalgamation of brown, grey, green and gold. “I’ve not heard that name before.”

Nesta resists the urge to snap her hand back into her lap. Instead, she moves with careful deliberation. Tells him with an empty politeness that she hopes conveys that she's not a conversationalist and never will be, “It means fire.”

That, she knows, he believes. 

It’s only when Nesta pulls on her coat in the hallway of the house that Feyre shares with her fiancé Rhysand, that Nesta senses that their game of pretence is over.

His footsteps are barely detectable against the hardwood floor but there’s something that tells her that he’s near. A presence that’s carved out its own space in the small hallway, seeping into the woodwork, her pores. A caress at the back of her neck. Against her skin.

And somehow she knows that he’s leaning against the doorframe, waiting, watching. Even so, she makes a point of doing up the buttons of her coat as if she’s none the wiser. Pulls her hair out from under the material and winds a scarf around her neck.

Because never again does she want to be prey.

“We’ve never met,” she announces crisply when she’s finished, cleaving back the control she desperately needs before he tries to wrangle it from her. 

She doesn’t turn. Doesn’t give any indication that he’s worth her time. When Nesta started sleeping around she learnt quickly that unapologetic directness was the best approach. 

After all, Nesta doesn’t pick her men out at bars with repeat sessions in mind. And, in this case, it’s vital that Nesta sets the scene and lays the foundations.

The man - Cassian - is leaning against the doorframe, larger than life and observing her in a way that is also unapologetic. It’s not leering. It’s not overtly sexual (although Nesta knows that the attraction is there as surely as she knows her heart is beating). But it’s the sort of stare that burrows into you, deeper and deeper, as if it’s trying to get to the core of you and figure you out.

And when Cassian’s eyes glint, Nesta thinks he actually might have done it. Unlocked every iron-barred gate inside of her and found out every horrible truth.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep our dirty little secret.”

That’s all Nesta needs to hear. She ignores the way his voice has taken an even deeper turn than earlier. That the mere sound of it has stirred something inside of her, something that has long been sleeping. 

Instead, she yanks open the front door and steps outside. The cold is like a slap to the face but she’s done here. She needs to go home. Needs a drink. 

When Cassian dares to follow her out, Nesta pins him with a glare that should be like a dagger to the chest. But Cassian simply watches her, completely unbothered by the demeanour that usually has others scarpering with their tails between their legs.

She makes a point of raking her eyes from top to toe, scrutinising every wild inch of him, before she snares his gaze. “In case you hadn’t realised, we’re done here.”

Still, he watches her. Studying her, his gaze so astute that Nesta feels vulnerable.

And she hates it, detests it—

“I need to talk to you.”

Nesta actually snorts. The huff of breath comes out like steam, like she’s a dragon breathing a fire the colour of ice. “We fucked once. A five minute fumble does not requires us to talk.”

She starts walking. Her feet crunch on the gravel drive and for a moment all she feels is how cold she is. But then fingers are closing around her wrist and she’s not yanked backwards, exactly, but she’s forced to stop.

And that’s when her instincts kick in. There is no mask, no control of her expression or her body language as she jolts away from him like a mare that refuses to be reigned in. 

When she’s free, she whirls on him. And despite the freezing wind biting into her limbs, Nesta is burning so fiercely she could kill. “Do not touch me,” she hisses.

It amazes her how quickly he backs off, the surprise clear on his face. And then, in his eyes, something knowing. As if he understands.  

It makes Nesta want to run so badly but it’s too late. It’s happening: the constricted breath, the lump in her throat that’s clamped over her airways. The thing that has been happening so frequently recently that Nesta often finds it hard to leave the house.

He must see the sudden panic in her eyes, because he takes another deliberate step away from her, granting her space - air - so she can breathe. 

It takes too long for her lungs to kick back into action. For her heart to start thudding again. Her breath shudders in, in, in, until her chest has so much oxygen her skin wants to crack. 

Nesta isn’t sure how long they stand there, her desperately trying to control her breath in a way that appears inconspicuous whilst he stands by, knowing. 

If Nesta was alone, she would sink to the floor and bury her head between her legs, curling in on herself, turning inwards until all she is is breath. But Nesta is not alone. So, she just tries to focus on the oxygen coming into her lungs, tries to make it measured and slow, all the while she wants to scream at him to disappear.  It takes everything she’s got to try and insert venom into her voice, but it just comes out weak - like a betrayal. “You’re still here.”

“On the couch,” he says quietly, slowly, as if she’s an animal in the underbrush about to scarper from a predator. “We didn’t use anything.”

Nesta knows she needs to claw back some control. She needs to say something cutting, but she still can’t think of anything besides getting air in her lungs in a way that doesn’t make it obvious that she’s struggling to breathe. “I take birth control.”

“Ok.”

She meets his eyes. “There won’t be a repeat.”

Cassian’s scar-slashed eyebrow cocks upwards and Nesta has the distinct impression he would be amused if it isn’t for the way that he’s studying her, concern tight across his brow. “There won’t?”

“There won’t,” she confirms.

The breathing gets easier, slowly, painfully. It’s no longer desperate to shudder in and out. Nesta is so busy focussing on her breath that she almost forgets where she is, until Cassian asks, “And does that extend beyond the couch to other locations, too?”

Nesta feels her eyes ignite into silver blue flames and suddenly she’s not thinking about breathing at all. “It does.”

“That’s a pity.”

Nesta actually snorts again. “For you, it is,” she says, as if the sex hadn’t been good for her.

Lies, all lies. 

Nesta turns, walks away. 

Does not turn back, even when Cassian calls after her, his voice somehow both rough and soft - and a little bit broken. “See you around, Nesta.”

***

They see each other around more than Nesta would have liked. 

Yet, for the first time in years, Nesta continues to try with her sisters. She tries, even as on the inside she drowns in oily waters she can’t share with anyone. Because how do you admit to your former estranged sisters that they were right all along when you can’t even admit it out loud to yourself? But Nesta knows. She knows that she’s so broken she doesn’t know how to move forward any more. Sometimes, Nesta sits in her apartment on her beat up sofa and stares at a wall for hours with nothing going through her brain. Just this dead emptiness, this numbness that she can’t control. 

More often than not, Nesta does not write. She ignores her agents calls. She ignores her deadlines. Because there’s nothing there. Nothing in her head apart from a depthless void that she doesn’t want to get rid of. Because when it disappears, unbidden and without warning, the cyclone of her thoughts, the intense, aching sadness she wakes up with every morning is all too much all too quickly. 

Drinking helps keep the void.

And that’s how Nesta finds herself at the same bar that she’d first met Cassian. Rita’s, it turns out, is the brothers local. And on Friday evenings there’s an open invitation.

The air is sticky with sweat when Nesta arrives and the scent of sugar, tequila, wood and hops turns her stomach. She’s already a bottle of wine down but she has no plans to stop. The last week has been particularly rough. Tonight’s shower was the equivalent of climbing a mountain, getting dressed even more so, but she’s here and she’s got that pleasant tingling numb that fills her with a spiky personality that usually takes far too much effort to conjure.

She’s only there a total of five minutes when Cassian approaches her at the bar. Nesta knows it’s him immediately. Not just because of the hands that rest against the sticky wooden counter, but because she can smell him: pine and fresh air and musk. A pleasant distraction from the general odour of the place.

For the most part, Nesta ignores Cassian when they see one another. 

But sometimes, she can’t.

“Hello, Nes.” The sound of his voice has something sitting up inside of her. Something that scarcely makes an appearance these days - an interest, a feeling that doesn’t feel terrifying but exciting. 

Mastering her voice, Nesta feigns indifference. “Hello brute.”

It’s pure instinct that tells Nesta that Cassian is studying her in that surprisingly quiet way he’s prone to. Nesta ignored it. Pretends to study the wine in the fridge behind the bar. 

“You’re looking as devastating as ever.”

Slowly, Nesta turns her head. 

Cassian is propped up against the bar on one elbow, but he still towers above her: all dark and dangerous with the cocky grin that’s only for her. Today, his hair is tousled half up and it makes her want to do things to him. She’s never felt this attraction to someone before, this delicious and devastating pull. 

She tucks away the sensation, pushing it down, down, down, and pretends that she didn’t choose this particular outfit with the pure intention of flooring him. “Didn’t find it in yourself to brush your hair?”

Cassian’s slow-spreading grin is wolfish and delighted. It didn’t take Nesta long to realise that whilst others found her thorny and disagreeable, Cassian relishes what she throws into the ring. 

He understands that it’s more play than spite. 

Cassian doesn't lean forward, doesn't move into her space at all, yet when he speaks it's as if he’s imparting with a secret. “Admit you like it this way, Nesta.”

She does like it this way, but Nesta only wrinkles her nose. “I like my men well-groomed.”

“No,” Cassian says, tapping the table to the beat of the music with one tan finger as if he’s distracted, “you don’t.”

Boldened by the alcohol buzzing through her veins, Nesta asks, “Are you here to buy me a drink?”

But he throws her question back at her. “Are you buying me one?”

“That depends,” Nesta replies, cocking her head so her long hair falls over her shoulder, “on whether you plan on leaving me alone afterwards.”

Cassian does leave her alone afterwards, and the relief that floods her is mixed with regret. 

Nesta spends the majority of her evening on the dance floor with Elain whilst Feyre hangs out with the dark-haired men in the corner. She drinks too much, until she doesn’t feel anything anymore and everything is numb - just the way she likes it. 

When she’s like this, men don’t scare her. 

When she’s like this, she feels powerful. 

Unstoppable.

When Nesta’s will finally breaks and she allows herself to glance Cassian’s way, she finds him leaning against the metal bar that partitions off the dance floor, talking to a long-legged girl with long braids that swing in time with her hips. 

Nesta makes a point of leaving with someone else. As she exits the club, a well-groomed man trotting after her like some lovesick puppy, she feels Cassian’s dark eyes razor sharp on her back.

This time, she doesn’t bother taking the man home. She makes him take her against the wall in a dirty alleyway, her stomach turning at the soft fingers, the smooth shaven face, the overpowering scent of aftershave. He moans and praises but he doesn’t know how to please her and Nesta can’t find it in herself to take what she needs. 

So, she lets the pebbledash of the wall bite and scratch at her back until she’s sure she’s bleeding with it. 

Holds onto that pain as she turns her head away from him, closes her eyes and waits for it to be over. 

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @fanboy7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @misswonderflower @nessiantrashh​ @miamorganvel18 @kawaiteacup @nestaa-stan @castielspelvis

#nessian #nessian fanfic #nessian fic #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #acotar #acotar fic #thegirl #duskandstarlightwrites #nessianfic #acotar fanfic

[lucienarcheron]

Weakness [Nessian]

Prompt: Based on my post here. Cassian is obsessed with Nesta and bringing out Soft!Nessian is always a vibe. 

Genre: Fluff Rating: SFW

He couldn’t help it. He really couldn’t.

It had always been a weakness of his and the gods all mocked him, knowing it would be a weakness of his for the rest of his existence.

But gods damn it, her neck was so beautiful. And her ears — exquisite.

“You’re doing it again.”

Cassian blinked, realizing that once again, he had been mesmerized by her and was lost in the moment.

It was a quiet, rainy night and the two of them were in their sitting room, resting on the floor by the warm fire. Nesta was reading, and he, staring at her like the true besotted fool he was, instead of focusing on the reports he was meant to be looking over.

“What?” he said stupidly.

Nesta looked up from her book with a raised brow. “Staring. You’re sitting here staring. Again.”

Cassian grinned. “I can’t help it, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.”

His grin intensified at the color that blossomed on her cheeks but she only rolled her eyes.

“I sympathize but really, get a grip.” she said, her words harsh but her tone playful. “You big oaf.”

He laughed then tossed the reports to the side and slowly crept closer to her, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her into him.

“I am but a humble servant, bewitched by your beauty, consumed by your very being.” he whispered softly, leaving a tender kiss on her exposed neck.

“Here we go.” she mumbled, the color on her cheeks intensifying and Cassian chuckled softly, leaving one, then two, then a few more kisses on her neck.

“You can pretend to complain but the way these goosebumps erupt on your skin says it all, sweetness.” his voice still a husky whisper and he grinned in delight when her flush deepened.

“You just love to distract me.” she said quietly and tilted her head to the side, silently indicating her request for more.

“I love kissing this beautiful neck of yours.”

“Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”

“And these beautiful pointy ears of yours.”

“You do love my ears.” Nesta agreed with a chuckle, leaning back into him, the book slipping from her hands, and Cassian hummed his agreement, his lips leaving more and more of his soft kisses on any exposed skin he could find.

“Your ears are a delight.”

“Everything about me is a delight.”

“They’re so pointy.”

“You don’t say.”

“When they used to be so round.”

“Such descriptive words you use.”

“I didn’t get to bite them when they were round but I sure as hell will spend the rest of my life biting them now.” he said then gently bit her earlobe and Nesta had to bite her own lip to hold back a moan.

“Your animalistic tendencies are coming out, Commander Cassian.” she whispered.

“Mmm. You bring out the animal in me, Queen Nesta.” he whispered right back, his tongue darting out to get a taste of her neck again.

Nesta shuddered then turned in his arms, her gaze blazing with challenge. “Show me how much of an animal you can be then.”

“Is that a request, your highness?”

Nesta’s smirk met his grin and she slowly pushed him down, hitching up her dress and straddling him.

“It’s a demand.” she said quietly, leaning in to kiss him tenderly and Cassian squeezed her tightly. “I want you to bite me in all the places people don’t get to see.”  

#nessian #nessian fanfic #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar fanfiction #fic: weakness #gfics

[nestasgalpal]

Can't think straight when we are together Pt. 2 [Nessian smut]

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

Nesta’s Gal Pal masterlist | AO3

Tagging:@zoyaslai@champanheandluxxury@pataytayo@nessiantrashh@dustjacketmusings@saltydreamcollector@generalnesta@simpingfornestaarcheron@arinbelle@a-court-of-valkyries@azrielsgirl@swoopingoccamy@vasudharaghavan@vidalinav@sv0430@nessianforlife@claralady@sayosdreams@malluzia@dealfea@kylosmomm

A/N: Don't mind me, I'm just posting a second part to this a year after because I think I know what I want to do with this fic. It's been a year, so if you want to be removed or added to the tagging list, let me know, I just copied the one I had.

He had played well enough to celebrate the victory and mean it. It had been a great game. Tense, to say the least, but in a good way. The type of tense that pushed Cassian to do better. He was not the captain of the football team, Rhy was, but Cassian had been named MVP of the college league the last two seasons, and he planned on keeping the title this year as well now that graduation time was approaching and the draft peaked on the horizon. Preassure to give his all on the field was always welcomed. And if a certain pretty brunette showed up to watch, even if she was accompanied by some other dude, then his teammates could count on Cassian pushing himself to the limit.

Cassian slurred each syllable when he spoke, even if he wasn't drunk yet. "It's too hot in here, I need some air." Az only nodded. Not that the music being blasted through the speakers would have allowed him to be heard anyway. 

The crowd dancing in Feyre's basement, drinking and making out in the darkest corners of the room, forced him to use his elbows to push people in reaching for the stairs. Circumventing these college students proved as challenging as dodging some of his rivals hours earlier. Cassian tightly secured his red cup as he made his way up. Although Feyre's house was not their most frequent meetup place, Cassian had been in there enough times to know where each room was. To know the basement had a door to the garden behind the house, but if he instead used the stairs, he would find himself in the entry hall at the top.

So he went up, and just as he emerged in the predicted space, the front door was being opened by one of his best friends. Mor gave a squeak and jumped to hug him. "Congrats on the win, big boy!" Cassian hugged her back, and she had to go on her tiptoes so her arms could reach around his neck. He thanked her with a shit-eating grin. Both knew this had been one of his best games this season.

"Where were you? I was starting to think I would have to drain the keg all by myself." He joked, momentarily postponing his planned trip for this quick chat. 

"The cheer team had a pre-party I couldn't miss." Mor explained. Cassian didn't believed her, though, as most of the cheer team had arrived before him at the party.

"Excuse me." The soft voice behind them was followed by an even softer touch as Gwyneth Berdara slightly pushed his arm.

Only then did Cassian realize Mor and he were blocking the front door. He quickly let go of his friend's waist and took a step back, leaving enough room between the blond cheerleader and himself for Gwyneth to walk out. She did so without a word or a second look at them. The sudden panic taking over Cassian was enough to block the shame he should have felt instead. He saw the redhead reach for her phone as soon as she stepped outside, right before the door closed behind her. His widen his eyes went back to his friend, who seemed oblivious to the gravity of what had just happened. Only then did he notice who the varsity jacket Mor was wearing belonged to. A siren went off inside his head. Shit. Cassian hadn't noticed she was wearing his name and number. He had assumed it belonged to whatever player she had been screwing before coming to the party.

Surely Gwyn had noticed as well.

Shit.

"It that my jacket?" Obviously, it was. 

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I was cold and kept it. Do you want it back?" She offered it, but didn't take it off. She pouted, knowing he would let her keep it. It would be useless to ask for it now, anyway.

"I thought you gave it to Nesta. Like I asked you to." 

How tight had he and Mor been hugging when Gwyn appeared out of thin air? He wasn't sure. He tried to remember if his name on the back of the jacket had been visible to the girl, but soon discovered that he couldn't. A message had probably been sent from Gwyn's phone to Nesta's describing what she thought she had seen. She would be wrong in her assumption, but it kind of made his planned trip to the second floor redundant now, nevertheless.

"She didn't want it, Cass. I promise I offered it to her, and she said she already had a jacket. Now, I don't know if she meant hers or the jacket that guy besides her was wearing."

Cassian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Shit Mor, you should have told me. I thought she had taken it."

"Hey, don't be upset with me. It's not my fault." She protested, her pouting lips now more exaggerated. "To be honest, I think this was for the best. Please, Cass, I am begging you to put two and two together and realize that she didn't want your name on her back because she simply doesn't want you. Or else, she wouldn't have gone to the game with a date."

His head snapped at that. "So it was a date? How would you know?" Cassian had always trusted Mor's intuition in this area. She understood girls' behavior way better than he did.

Taking the red cup from his hand and sipping from it, Mor rolled her eyes. "Listen, I don't want to hurt your feelings, especially not tonight, but Nesta Archeron doesn't give a fuck about football, so if her pretty ass was there, it had to be that guy's idea. And she must like him a lot to agree to the plan. Did she tell you she would be there?" He said no with his head. "And why is that? Because she..." Mor pushed a finger against his chest. "Doesn't. Care. About. You."

Cassian just stood there, unconvinced. He wished Mor had insisted more.

"But I still went up there to their seats and offered, like you asked me to, because I do care about you." She kept going. "As does Rhys. Do you think he would like to find out you are trying to get into Nesta's pants?" She arched an eyebrow. "You know he is not precisely fond of her."

The silence, Cassian hoped, let Mor know he was not in the mood to get deeper into that conversation right now. "Yeah, you are right." He considered taking his cup back, but decided not to. Mor could keep his cup and take it downstairs with her advice and opinions. He had to go up, he was now determined. "Az was asking for you down there." The cheerleader's face lightened when he changed the subject, suddenly reminded that there was, in fact, a party waiting for her in the basement.

"Shall we go?" She offered.

"I was actually looking for a bathroom." Cassian excused himself. "I don't trust the one downstairs." He joked. She didn't push it, she simply gave him another quick hug and headed towards the music.

He gave himself a second to clear his head. To mentally curse himself, Mor and this night that had seemed so full of potential until five minutes ago. The stairs to the second floor of the Archeron's house were right there. I should go to her room, Cassian told himself. To explain myself. And so, with the confidence only a guy like him could have, he resumed his original route towards Nesta Archeron's bedroom.

Unknown territory.

It would be easy for him to pitch himself tonight. Pitching both of them, actually, presents Nesta with the idea of what they could become. In a perfect scenario, Nesta would listen. In the case that Gwyneth had misinformed her of what she thought she had seen in the hall, it might require a little more convincing. But Cassian made his way up, truly believing this would be the night he told Nesta what he wanted.

Loud and clear.

The hallway he ended up in was silent, as if there was no party happening in the basement at that very moment. It was pitch dark, and wanting to be as sneaky as possible, instead of turning on the lights, Cassian used his phone's flashlight to find Nesta's bedroom door. A decorative piece of wood in the shape of a perfect "N" hang from the door. Knowing all the residents of the house except Feyre —downstairs— and Nesta herself —at the other side of the wooden panel— were away, he knocked, not allowing his confidence to slip away.

Yes, Nesta had refused to take his jacket when Mor offered it in his name, but not once had she said no to fucking him. If she knew he was on the other side of the door, she would open it for him. When she didn't answer, Cassian knocked again. "Nes, it's me." He had to wait again, but this time he heard the muffled footsteps getting closer. Then, the door opened, and Cassian's grin returned to his face. "Hey." He leaned on the door, knowing from experience that women found the way his muscles flexed to be sexy.

Nesta's half-closed eyes didn't really react, though. "What do you want?" She asked bluntly.

"Were you sleeping?" The question was a courtesy. He could smell in the thick air of the room what she had been up to, despite the open window by the bed. The red eyes were proof as well.

"Yes." She lied. "Did you get lost?" Her sexy lack of patience was amusing and just what he had wanted to be greeted by.

There was soft music playing from her phone on the bed. "I'm almost where I want to be, actually." Cassian said, his eyes wandering through the room behind his girl.

The eye contact that followed was intense. Cassian wouldn't break it, he could stare at her annoyed frown for ages and never get tired. And Nesta wouldn't either, as she simply couldn't stand to lose. She had her hair up in a ponytail that had been perfectly neat maybe an hour ago and now struggled to contain a few pieces of hair that were too short in the front and framed her face. Although Cassian was sure there were a pair of shorts on her legs, they weren't visible under the big t-shirt she used as pajamas. The band logo was unrecognizable after so many trips to the washing machine over the years.

Knowing very few people were allowed to see the perfect Nesta Archeron looking this disheveled, but he was, only filled his chest with excitement. Because not only was he allowed to see it, he was also allowed to take her out of those clothes and make an even bigger mess of her.

"Are you going to stand there forever?"

"Until you invite me in." He retorted.

She rolled her eyes, but stepped to the side and opened the door enough for him to enter. He walked to the middle of the room and heard the door close behind him. "I don't think I've ever seen your bedroom." She didn't answer, nor did she address his presence when she walked back to her bed and jumped in. Cassian just stood there, taking in the empty white walls, the blue stripes of her sheets, and the fluffy rug in the middle of the room.

"I hate shoes inside the house." Cassian needn't be told twice. His socks were stark white, and Nesta took notice. Hers were as well. "Matching," she mumbled distractedly.

The only light came from a round lamp by her bed. It was warm and threw yellowy shades across the walls, the bed and her face. She looked relaxed, and Cassian wondered if he had ever seen her like this. So calm and comfortable. He absolutely hadn't. He would remember. Like he remembered the first and only time he had made her laugh out loud —and actually chuckle. Cassian felt like he should have, though. Hadn't he made her feel good in his arms? He had. Six times, no less.

But Nesta hadn't looked this at ease. Almost the opposite, he realized. She had wanted to get out of his embrace as soon as they were done. She always ran from him.

Well, not anymore. Tonight, he would demand she give him more —at least a chance—, or else they would be done forever.

Please, prove them wrong, he begged her. Prove you do care about me.

From the bed, Nesta stretched her arm to open a drawer. "Do you want some?" An untouched joint was offered to him.

"I've been told I am insufferable when I am drunk and high." He joked. Nesta's lips curled up, remembering the moment she spoke those words.

"You really are." She scouted to the side, leaving room for him on the bed. "But you are not drunk, though."

Absolutely not. He needed his mind to be clear for this. Nesta's parted lips were distracting enough. Her smell. The skin of her thigh hot against the back of his hand when he sat down. Their eyes met, and Cassian cursed himself for accepting the silent offer and getting in her bed. This was not what he had come up here for.

Had she not leaned in, Cassian might had found in him the strength to get up again. But she did lean in, and his body followed suit. She kissed him. He kissed her back, and Nesta was quick to make it deeper, to make it hungry and needy. His hand cupping her face was meant to steady them, as surely were Nesta's on his hair. And his arm finding its place around her waist, or her legs now straddling him.

Yes, when his hand left her pretty face and met its double on Nesta's other hip, his goal was to make sure she was comfortably sitting on top of him. The grinding it caused was collateral damage. The seam of his jeans rubbed the right inch on her body, and soon Nesta was moaning in his mouth.

Hadn't she leaned in, Cassian would be standing on the fluffy carpet, pouring his heart out for her. But she did. And so he was now stripping her of her t-shirt and delighting himself in the realization that Nesta had not been wearing any kind of shorts under it. Just some lovely black panties he was quick to pull aside.

"Fuck!" She let out when his fingers pushed inside her. She was soaking wet just from making out.

There was no excuse for that.

"Tell me what you want." He demanded.

With her mouth open in a silent exclamation, Nesta rode his hand like she should be riding his cock. He curled his two fingers inside her, making her tremble. To keep her balance, Nesta's palms came to rest on his chest, supporting her weight. With her arms at her sides and her back arched, Nesta's tits were pushed right to his face. Not wanting to disrespect his host, Cassian's mouth was on them in an instant.

Hadn't she leaned in...

Nesta tried her best to contain her whimpers, and he did his best to steal new ones from her lips. "Tell me what you want." He repeated, now that Nesta was approaching her climax.

"I just want to come." She pleaded. Her gray eyes found his and gave him that look that almost had him coming in his pants. "Please, Cassian, make me come."

"And what do I get?" He teased, freeing her nipples from the pleasure and torture of his tongue on them. She shuddered, probably feeling the cold now that they were wet with his saliva.

Nesta didn't answer, so he had to be tougher on her. She was lost in her thoughts, bouncing on his hand and enjoying the feeling of his thumb on her clit. With his left hand, Cassian halted her movement just so he could slip his right from under her. Nesta whimpered again, but this time it was unsatisfaction what lingered on her pouting lips. An unexpected swat across her butcheeks made her jump slightly. It had taken her by surprise, although it shouldn't have. She knew what would come when she didn't answer him the first time. "What do I get, Nes?" Cassian was getting tired of repeating himself. She knew better. He spanked her again, just because he wanted to see her tits bounce in his face when she felt it and reacted.

Like a cat, Nesta stretched her body and rested it flat on top of his, gaining access to his neck and covering it in kisses. It was Cassian's turn to groan, more so when she nibbled his earlobe, and he practically melted when Nesta's plump lips sought his again. She was such a smooth kisser, so good at it, Cassian almost forgot she was the one supposed to be begging for his touch, not the other way around. He rolled over, pressing her against the bed now, and grabbed her tits with perhaps more force than needed. Not that Nesta ever complained about sex getting a bit rough. He kneaded them and pulled her nipples to his will, enjoying how hard they got against his palms and how she arched her back for more. When her tongue entered his mouth, Cassian knew she was desperate.

"Anything you want." She promised, thinking she knew exactly what he would take as compensation. "You can have me any way you want, but please," A pause to let out a moan right by his ear, "please, make me come."

Cassian was quick enough in taking down his jeans that Nesta didn't complain about his warm body leaving hers. He wasn't quick enough to put on the condom she handed him from the bedside table, though, so Nesta got on her knees in front of him, matching his pose, and started kissing him again whilst he opened the silver square and wrapped himself in the rubber. When he was done, Cassian wasn't able to tell who was hornier. He only knew one second his hands were in Nesta's ass, taking her in the air, so she could wrap her legs around him, and the next he had slammed their bodies against the mattress again and was fucking her for all he was worth.

It would have been great to say she came quickly and repaid the favor by sucking him, but after all that grinding, Cassian was as close to coming as she was. She squeezed him so tightly he stood no chance, and soon they were both panting, Cassian all the way in and Nesta holding on to him like her life depended on it, needing him even closer. When the climax ran through them, Cassian didn't pull out, nor did she urge him to. Instead, her fingertips started dancing through his back. Making circles at first, then more complicated shapes. Something like triangles, then curves, and more sharp angles right after.

Cassian thanked his past self for staying sober tonight, so he was conscious enough to understand the meaning of the lines she drew.

"Come on a date with me." He whispered against her ear.

"No." Her answer came immediately. Not harshly, at least not with the intention to be harsh. She said the wordas a matter of fact. Empty of feeling.

He closed his eyes. Why? Wasn't this what she wanted? For him to be blunt with his expectations? "You said anything I wanted." Cassian reminded her. He didn't move. Their bodies were still tangled over her bed: him inside her, her legs caging his waist, and her arms hugging his neck. How could Nesta reject him while holding him with such care? 

As if she had read his mind, Nesta let go of him completely, and he had no choice but to sit up. Somehow quicker than Cassian had been when he took them out, Nesta gave him his underwear and jeans back for him to put them on. "I meant something like a blowjob and to swallow." Her coarse words hurt his ego more than his feelings. He didn't answer.

Cassian got up and pulled up his pants, then seated himself again and stared at her, a question in his eyes. She could read it—she in fact did—, but didn't answer. Cassian wondered, had she not leaned in, would he have been brave enough to ask her out with the words he had carried from the football field? Would the result have been the same, or was the fact that they always fucked first, talked later what made them go in circles?

"It was a good game. You did good." Her suddenly bringing that up only made things more awkward. 

"Yeah." Cassian would rather leave now than sit through the silence that followed. He stayed, though, waiting for who knows what to happen and fix the atmosphere, to turn it into... what, exactly? She must have felt it too —the lack of appropriate words to end this night.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. Nesta fixed it, her touch a ghost. He looked at her and demanded an explanation with just a stare. Nesta didn't give him that either.

"You should go down." She told him. There was no sharpness in her tone, and maybe that was her way of saying she was sorry.

Accepting his fate and just wanting to leave on a good note, Cassian raised a teasing eyebrow and eyed what was between her legs.

"Not that." There it was: the eye rolling, the cute annoyance. "I meant downstairs, to the party. They are probably looking for you."

Indeed.

"You are saying a lot of things you don't mean tonight, Nes. It's kind of confusing."

The accusation finally woke her up from the post-orgasm haze. She jumped out of bed, leaving her t-shirt behind, and going for the door. "You are confusing." Her voice told Cassian she meant it.

"I think I've made myself pretty clear, though. Haven't I?" He took his shoes in one hand and followed her.

"Haven't I?" She retorted, turning around to face him. The defiance in her eyes burned bright, giving her an intimidating glow that compensated her lack of a top. Cassian didn't even look at her tits.

She opened the door for him. He closed it before the gap was wide enough for him to go through.

"Would it kill you to give me a chance?" He finally spat. 

"A chance for what, Cassian? What exactly do you expect? To continue with the fucking, but once a week, grab dinner together?" 

"Well, yeah." Cassian still couldn't understand what was so awful about spending time with him outside their bedroom, a small bathroom or an empty classroom. Be seen out in the open, grab her hand and kiss it just because he feels like it. For Nesta to wear his jersey to his games and celebrate with him and his friends afterward. Grab dinner when their schedules allow, and then go home together.

Nesta held his stare, and this time he couldn't read it. Which could only mean she didn't want him to. Cassian sighed.

"Okay, so whatever I want?" He brought up Nesta's sex-induced promise again. "Just give me a reason I can understand." When she opened her mouth, Cassian's finger sealed it again. "If you want a guy to get you drinks at a party, why can't it be me? If you want to hang out with a guy on a Friday night and go watch a game together,  why won't you let it be me? And don't give me an I don't like you, because you clearly do. What is so awful about me that you don't want to even try?"

When she closed her eyes, unable to look into his, Cassian's heart sank, understanding that there was a reason after all.

"I've tried." She confessed. "I've seen what spending time with you is like, and I don't want it." Not only didn't Cassian interrupt her, but he urged her to keep going, curious to see where she was going. "I've been in a room with you and your friends and remember what was said to me for even looking in your direction a little too long." She started counting with her fingers. "I've spent the afternoon with you guys and been completely ignored by every single one, including you, although I was invited to be there. We've had lunch, I've been trapped at one of your dinner parties and on Feyre's birthday, and there is nothing you can possibly offer me in a relationship to make up for how awful I've been treated every single time and how you did nothing to stop it from happening. How stupid do you think I am to sign up for that again?"

Cassian was equal parts offended on his friend's behalf and his own. Had it been anyone else in front of him, he wouldn't have bitten his tongue at the insult to his friends. They had never spoken ill of her to her face or purposefully tried to exclude her. She simply didn't fit in with the group, and that was okay. They could spend time alone.

"If that is what I'm getting myself into..." She corrected herself, saying, "If that is what you can offer me, then I don't want it."

"Don't you think a relationship is a little more complicated than liking my friends or not?"

"I am in Pre-Med, Cassian, I don't have the time for complicated. I want easy. This..." She signaled between the two, "This is easy. And I like it a lot."

It was his time to be cold. "Sorry, but this won't do it for me." Cassian took a step back, putting much-needed physical space between them. "Obviously, I can't be with someone who thinks that about my friends."

She agreed and stepped to the side, making room to open the door for him. "And I can't be with someone who would let their friends say exactly the same things about me." It was the brief silence as the words sank in what pushed her to keep going. "To be honest, and I am not saying this to be hurtful, you don't deserve more."

Cassian only nodded, not necessarily in agreement, not fully differing either. He understood.

"Have a good life, Nes." He just walked away.

#nessian #nessian smut #nessian fic #nessian fanfic #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian

[pinkrasberryfish]

That's a damn WRAP on "The Pointe of Love!" 🩰🫀🦢🌹🌙

Chapter 16 - "I'm In Love With You Too" now up.

#should have finished ages ago #i'm sorry but i love this fic #elriel au #elriel alternative universe #au fic #elriel #elriel acotar #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #elriel endgame #pro elriel #elain x azriel #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #acotar au nessian #nessian fanfic #nessian #nesta x cassian #elriel nessian fic

[nikethestatue]

Do That to Her

A Nessian fanfic:

Nesta, sits quietly with a book in her hands and a fluffy throw on her lap. The fire in the fireplace is crackling but it doesn't bother her anymore. It's December 1. The snow is swirling behind the windows.

Cassian sits across from her, looking at military plans, while sneaking glances at his gorgeous woman. Azriel is here too, outlining something on the map. They are supposed to be 'strategising'.

"if you are not going to concentrate," Azriel snaps at Cassian through gritted teeth, "I am going home!"

"I am concentrating! I am concentrating!" Cassian protests feebly.

He understands. Azriel is a newlywed. He wants to be with his woman just as much as Cassian wants to be with Nesta. Cassian understands, but he can't help himself.

Being a professional though, he forces his attention to return to the papers and reports in front of him.

"I think if we position the battalion here," Azriel raps his knuckle on the map, "it would give us a good vantage point...."

Somehow, the shadowsinger's dark, gritty voice washes over Cassian, and he loses himself in all sorts of erotic fantasies.

Suddenly, Azriel's scarred fingers snap quietly, which leads to Cassian's attention snapping back at his brother. Azriel was going to have his hide.

Ehhh. Worth it.

"Watch. Her."

It's an order. From Azriel. Cassian cocks a confused brow at him and glances at Nesta. He isn't going to question the command. Yes, sir. If he is ordered to look at Nesta, he was going to look at Nesta.

Azriel's voice is barely audible, but Cassian knows how to listen and how to understand his brother even with minimal conversation.

"Watch her," Azriel repeats. "See how quiet she's gone?"

Indeed, Nesta seemed to still in the cushions of the sofa. Her back is ramrod straight, as she peers into the book. A small smile plays on her lips.

"Yeah, what of it?" Cassian wonders.

"Watch and learn, my innocent brother," Azriel squeezes his shoulder, smirking. "When she goes all silent like that, quieter than a Library's mouse, eyes wide...That's when you find out what page she is on,"

"Oh...And?" Cassian's brow creases.

"You go back to that page. You read it. Carefully," Azriel instructs, his midnight voice hypnotising in its velvety softness.

"And?" Cassian insisted.

"And you do that to her."

"Oh."

"Oh."

4 hours later...

Cassian climbs into his large, roomy bathtub. The water is so hot, it is steaming above the surface of the tub. Just like he likes it.

His hair is tied in pigtails on the sides of his head--not a look that he would necessarily show off to anyone. He reaches for a glass of wine and takes a generous sip. Very nice.

He adds a dab of Nesta's soaps and foamy bubbles into the water, and sinks in deeper into the tub.

Glancing around sneakily, he then picks up a book. The book. And thanks Azriel's crafty shadows, because one managed to float around and report back to the master--page 237.

So, on to page 237 Cassian thumbed the pages.

"My breasts tightened as he positioned himself at the apex of my thighs. My core. The very centre of me needed his considerable length inside. I craved his seed."

Whoa.

"And then, he slammed home in one powerful thrust. He was enormous. I wasn't sure he would fit, but his massive manhood felt like velvet wrapped steel inside of me, especially once he sheathed to the hilt.

My toes curled and I saw stars as he filled me to the brim. As he touched my bundle of nerves with his calloused, scar-flecked fingers, it was my undoing. I shattered. He roared as he climaxed, destroying buildings and shaking mountains, while setting palm trees on fire on a faraway beach."

Do. That. To. Her.

And Cassian did.

#nessian #cassian and nesta #nessian fanfic #just for fun #my writing #do that to her #one shot #Azriel #makes an appearance #yes #he is married to Elain #don't worry #cassian #acosf fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron

[velidewrites]

Immortal. Cruel. Divine.

There is no crossing the Gods—they roam the Earth and reap it of everything the humans hold dear. For Hades, it is their freedom. For Aphrodite, their heart. For Artemis, their very life.

Everything changes when a twisted will of the Fates sends three mortals their way.

There is no crossing the Gods? Well, these men are determined to prove them wrong.

Pairings: Nessian, Elucien, Feysand

Notes: This is my follower celebration series! Thank you all for being here—I hope you enjoy this AU. All three parts include explicit sexual content, but you will find chapter-specific content warnings in individual tags!

Side Note: All of these can be read separately, i.e. you don't need to read Nessian to understand the Elucien chapter, etc. That being said, I've hidden some easter eggs across all three stories—so some of these characters will appear in scenes outside of their respective chapters!

Read on AO3

MASTERLIST

A Woman So Heartless || Hades!Nesta x Cassian || 14k

When the Goddess of the Underworld grants a mortal General an extended stay in the land of the living, she doesn’t expect him to come back with another deal—one she has no idea will ruin her life forever.

Face In The Daylight || Aphrodite!Elain x Lucien || upcoming

After stumbling upon the most beautiful human she’d ever seen, the Goddess of Love will not rest until he belongs to her. Never mind that he’s engaged to be married—and never mind that he wants nothing to do with her.

As Bad As They Say || Artemis!Feyre x Rhysand || upcoming

Betrayed by the only mortal she’d ever loved, the Goddess of the Hunt spends her days exacting revenge. Any man who dares enter her woods is met with a swift end and a pretty smile. Rhysand, a foolish prince from a neighbouring kingdom, is determined to find out just how pretty that smile is.

#just a masterlist to keep myself organised #velide’s 2000 followers celebration fic #yay it's here!! #acotar au #nessian #nesta x cassian #nessian smut #nessian au #nessian fic #nessian fanfic #nessian fanfiction #elucien #elain x lucien #elucien smut #elucien au #elucien fic #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #feysand #feyre x rhysand #feysand smut #feysand au #feysand fic #feysand fanfic #feysand fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[hlizr50]

Better five days late than never, right?

First of all, sincerest apologies to @vulpes-fennec and @azrielshadowssing for being so late posting my part 3 for the ACOTAR Writing Circle. You can see all the fics and authors on the master list here! Thank you, @azrielshadowssing for organizing this, yet again!

Apologies, as well, to all the readers who have been waiting for the conclusion to Why Did It Have To Be Me!

Read the whole fic on AO3 here!

Read Part 3 here!

Or just continue below!

CW: This chapter is NSFW

TW: This chapter contains mild depictions of SA and attempted SA

“Cassian.”

It wasn’t a surprised squeak, though she had very much not expected to find the hulking, gorgeous man at her door. No, it was more of a… statement. An observation.

Cassian. He was there. In her doorway.

Nesta couldn’t allow herself to sound happy about it, not when she knew how easy it would be for her to fall for him. Not when she knew who she was. What she was. There was no way that she would be able to do anything more than break his gentle, loving heart. And, even though she was selfish and heartless, she wouldn’t do that. Not to him.

“Nesta.” His face was wholly serious, one eyebrow cocked in that arrogant, expectant way that was so sexy it infuriated her. When she didn’t respond he strode through the door – the door she hadn’t slammed in his face for some reason. And now he was staring down at her with those intense amber eyes.

“Close the door, Nes,” he whispered. And, goddamn it, she did, her body moving of its own accord. After the door snicked shut, a large, warm hand covered hers and pulled it away from the knob. The touch was like lightning, jolting her back into her own body. She blinked up at Cassian with a scowl.

“What do you want?” Nesta hissed. In a move that was far too smooth for such a behemoth of a man, he turned them and pressed her against the door, one hand cradling her nape as the other held her wrists above her. She could smell the shampoo from the soft strands of his loose ebony hair as he leaned in close enough for her to taste the spearmint on his breath.

“I told you, sweetheart,” he murmured, running the tip of his nose over her cheek until his mouth branded her ear with his searing declaration. “I owe you something.”

She didn’t fight back when his lips captured hers and his tongue speared into her mouth. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She didn’t stop the kiss, but the battle for dominance was obvious. Of course, Cassian won. His kisses made her drunk, made her brain fuzzy. And still his breathy words clattered around in her brain with startling clarity.

“Can I touch you, Nes?” Fuck, she could feel the rumble of his gruff, gravelly voice in her very marrow. And her mouth, that cursed thing, responded automatically between his kisses.

“Please.”

Nesta hated the desperation in that plea; loathed the way her lips betrayed her typically iron will and the way her body yearned for him. When his calloused fingertips scratched deliciously against her skin as they slid under her shirt, she tilted her head back on a gasp. Cassian’s mouth just slid down to her chin and continued licking and kissing down the line of her jaw.

And then his hand moved in the opposite direction, his palm sliding beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts, and Nesta burst into flames.

“No panties, sweetheart?” The behemoth of a man chuckled darkly against her throat, and she both loved and despised the way it made her stomach twist in anticipation. “Naughty girl.”

“Are you going to keep talking or are you actually going to do something?” she hissed as she flexed her hands in his grip. With a growl he released her and hiked her knee up with his free hand. Delving further, his touch found where she needed him, though she would never admit it.

He ran a finger up her center, sending tremors through her muscles. With a nip to her neck – and a startled yelp from her panting mouth – Cassian plunged a finger deep inside her.

“I like to take my time, Nes.”

Fuck, this man.

Fuck this man.

With his perfect hair and powerful body and goddamn magic fingers.

Nesta cursed herself as her body quaked at his expert touch. Of course, she'd planned on letting Cassian get her off, but she'd planned on making sure he had to work for it. At this rate, she'd be a quivering puddle at his feet in a matter of moments. 

Her will was broken when he lifted his head and once again claimed her mouth with his lips and tongue, his finger thrusting in and out as his thumb circled her clit. As he coaxed her closer and closer to the edge, her hands – which had fallen to his chest – skated over the soft fabric of his tee and buried themselves in his luxurious ebony locks. 

With a sigh against her lips, Cassian slipped a second thick finger into her molten core. She barked a curse, clutching him tighter against her and earning a smug hum as his lips found her jaw again.

Fuck, she was close.

"That's it, sweetheart," he urged as he pistoned his fingers. "I can feel you clenching. You gonna come on my fingers, Nes?"

Stubbornness kept her from giving an answer. But it didn't matter when, only a moment later, his fingers curled against that most sensitive spot and she was sent into her climax on a guttural moan. Nesta clung to him, fingernails scratching over his shoulders and back, as she rode out her orgasm. It was so good – so staggeringly, infuriatingly good.

Her mind-numbing bliss shattered into a million pieces against a cold stone wall.

This was a mistake.

Nesta unhooked her leg from Cassian’s hip and supported herself on wobbly legs, her hands falling away from those massive shoulders. Her gaze hooked on a snag in her living room carpet, unable to meet his eyes as she straightened her shirt and shorts after he pulled away from her.

“Nesta–”

The honey-haired woman felt the cold wash over her, let the mask fall back into place. Indifference. Haughtiness. Ire. Everything that she was, and everything that would ruin him if he got too close.

The kissing and the touching and the orgasms had been a mistake. But this… what she was about to do, this was the right thing.

Lifting her chin she looked Cassian dead in the eye and said, “Now we’re even. Is that all?”

God, she hated the way his expression fell from that smug confidence to disbelief and hurt, and then twisted into frustration. But she could work with that.

“As a matter of fact, it’s–”

“I’m sorry, I should have been more clear,” Nesta interrupted. “That is all. You can leave now.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Amber eyes flashed as the hulking man’s anger rose. “It’s obvious that I want you. And it’s pretty fucking obvious that you want me, too. So what the fuck are we doing here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hissed, narrowing her eyes. “As for what we’re doing here, I’d say we’ve finally completed our little exchange and now the two of us can go on with our lives, moderately satisfied.”

Her thinly veiled insult seemed to miss its mark as Cassian stepped into her space again, forcing her back against the door.

“Look into my eyes, Nesta, and tell me that you don’t want me.”

Nesta stared back at him. His eyes were so beautiful and warm and swirling with such fire. And she felt her own light extinguish as she did exactly as he’d instructed.

“I don’t want you, Cassian. I never wanted you.” She could barely breathe as his eyes grew dark, but they didn’t cool into something dull and lifeless like hers would. No, there was something simmering there. Disdain? Disbelief?

Pity.

And, God, if that shadowed glare didn’t cut right through her.

“I know you think you have this frigid bitch thing down,” Cassian practically growled at her, and it grated against her very soul. “But it’s obvious you’re dealing with some shit. You can put on a show of telling me and whoever else that you want nothing to do with me. I might be some gym bro, but I’m not fucking stupid. I see it when I look at you and I feel it when we’re together.”

He stepped back, but Nesta still didn’t feel like she had enough room to breathe.

“But I’m not going to stand here and deal with your whole hot and cold routine if you’re going to continue to lie to yourself. If you’re going to continue using your words as weapons meant to wound.” Cassian’s voice grew quiet, and instead of curling in on herself, Nesta forced a scowl.

Because this was best. For both of them.

“I care about you, Nes. I really do. But I can’t prove that if you never allow me close enough to try.” And with that, he reached for the doorknob. Nesta stumbled out of the way to let him out. Then, without even looking at him again, she shut the door behind him. Pressing her ear against the wood, she listened to the heavy footsteps traveling further and further away. Until there was nothing more than suffocating silence.

It was only then that she allowed herself to slide down the door until she was a crumpled heap on the floor, bury her face in her hands, and allow all of her shame and self-loathing to consume her.

~~~

The spiral that followed was something intervention-worthy.

The look in Cassian’s typically smiling eyes, the exhaustion in his voice, the way his shoulders slumped – she saw all of it on a constant loop in her dreams, and woke up almost every morning with that shame souring her gut. She’d hurt him, had pushed him far enough that she was no longer worth fighting herself for.

But that had been the point, hadn’t it?

And so she soldiered on, thanks to the miracles of coffee and concealer for the daytime and the alcohol that sent her toppling into her bed at night. She’d started attending as many parties as she could find, desperate to escape the echoes of her mistakes in her mind and the yawning chasm of her soul. Nesta had made quite a name for herself on fraternity row, and between Elain’s and Emerie’s connections within the Greek community, it was a small wonder she hadn’t been on the receiving end of more than the one conversation with her friend.

“I’m not judging you. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

What Emerie didn’t know was that safe was when her brain was too addled with booze to even remember that Cassian existed. When she was drunk she could be whatever she wanted; a bitch, a tease, a fucking queen if she saw fit.

She’d slept around more in the first few weeks, but nobody could even measure up to Cassian’s fucking hand. So she’d given up on trying to assuage her sexual frustration and had jumped straight to drinking enough to go blissfully blank.

Which was exactly what she was doing at Sig Eps on a Friday night, hand curled around a red plastic cup full of a punch that burned deliciously all the way down. That meant the night would probably end quickly, and that was good for two reasons:

Tomas Mandray seemed hellbent on getting into her pants

Cassian was there

Nesta sure hadn’t been nursing her drink long enough to deal with his presence, which was somehow even bigger and more overwhelming than his physical form. It was as if she could feel his stare on her skin like a caress, and no matter where she was in the house her gaze always seemed to snag on his intense amber eyes, that little half-up man-bun that shouldn’t be as devastatingly sexy as it was, and the way his long-sleeved tee stretched over his broad shoulders and chest, his huge biceps highlighted by the fact that he had his arms crossed like a disappointed parent.

She needed to get out of that house.

Cassian’s expression twisted into a scowl, and she nearly toppled back before a heavy arm landed across her shoulders.

“Not drinking tonight?” She didn’t need to look up to know it was Tomas. There was something about his voice that screamed rich and pretentious, with a unique, slightly-nasal quality that made him all-too-easy to identify. Nesta lifted her cup, along with her eyebrows, to show the idiot that she did, in fact, have a nearly-full beverage in her hand. To prove the point further, she downed a large gulp and savored the scorch of the alcohol. “That’s my girl.” He squeezed her into his side.

“I’m not your girl.” Nesta’s correction seemed to fall on deaf ears as the Sig Eps VP grinned like a moron. With a dramatic roll of her eyes she took another large sip, more ready than ever for the warmth of drink to take over.

But something was different. Her stomach roiled and her head suddenly felt too heavy, and she thought she might be sick. For a split second, she wanted to lift her head to find the man whose attention had followed her every minute she’d been in this house. She’d much rather Cassian comfort her while she vomited than Tomas. But she didn’t even have the strength to look.

“You okay, baby?” Tomas’s voice seemed far away… muffled. Blinking her eyes, her vision came into focus for a moment, finding his brown eyes focused on her face. Nesta couldn’t identify what she saw there, but also she was drunk and apparently getting sick.

“I think I’m just tired. But I also feel like I might get sick.” She felt the arm around her shoulders pull her closer, and her balance and vision were so off that she nearly fell into him. She’d never felt like this before, and something deep in the back of her mind screamed that it wasn’t right. 

But Tomas just ran his palm up and down her bare arm and led her toward the stairs. “I’ll take you to the bathroom and then you can nap in my room.”

And, though Nesta wanted to protest, her tongue was thick and useless in her mouth. The frat boy practically dragged her up to the second floor, and it was only marginally better once they reached flat ground again. Her legs could barely hold her weight and she couldn’t seem to figure out how to place one foot in front of the other.

When she was pulled through an open door that was quickly shut behind her, all of her senses went on alert.

This wasn’t the bathroom.

“Wh-what?” her voice slurred, though she could barely hear it over the heartbeat pounding in her ears. 

“Shhh just relax, baby.”

And then she was horizontal, splayed across something soft that had to be the twin bed with Tomas hoving above her, eyes hungry. When he reached for the hem of her shirt she made to smack his hand away.

But her arm felt like it weighed 100 pounds. It was sluggish and weak and did nothing as Tomas pushed it away.

With a furrowed brow she tried again, tried to get any limb to obey as grubby little hands crawled under her blouse and squeezed at her.

Dear God, this couldn’t be happening.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she somehow managed to push the word “no” past her lips. Over and over in a continuous, slurred string. But Tomas wasn’t listening, his gaze intent on his prize. His touch was violating and rough as he pinched and kneaded.

“God, I’ve been waiting so long to spend some time with these.”

Nesta could feel the burning twin trails of angry, helpless tears on either side of her face. “No. No no no.” Her shirt was pushed up over her chest to give him a better view, and she couldn’t see much because of it. But when she felt his hands fiddling with the button on her jeans, she used every last ounce of will and strength and bodily control to release what could only be described as something between a moan and a scream. And as her body shook, she resigned herself to the fact that nobody was coming to save her.

~~~

Cassian couldn’t have taken his eyes off her for more than a handful of seconds. Hell, he knew it because he hadn’t been able to look away all damn night. But, somehow, she had disappeared.

And maybe that was fine. If she wanted to avoid him so badly that she’d decide to hook up with Tomas fucking Mandray, then that was none of his business. But something didn’t feel right. Nesta hadn’t looked uncomfortable when Tomas had slung his arm across her shoulders, but she sure hadn’t looked thrilled, either. 

And now they both were gone, and that knowledge settled like a dead weight in his gut. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and Cassian was never one to ignore his instincts. That’s what had prompted him to try to get close with Nesta – he felt something when he was with her, deep in his soul. Something he wasn’t willing to ignore.

Something she was.

The towering man made a lap around the main floor of the house, finding no sign of the beautiful, icy-eyed woman who had tried to break his heart.

And so he headed up the stairs into the residential part of the fraternity, more quickly than was probably warranted. If Nesta wanted to sleep with other guys then that was her right and her prerogative. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that her disappearance wasn’t quite as straightforward.

And then he heard it: a cry that was so soft for all the devastation it carried.

Cassian knew it was her. He just knew.

In seconds he’d burst through a door with a snarl, finding Mandray straddling long, denim-clad legs. His fingers were still on the waistband of those perfect jeans. Time was frozen in that moment as Cassian took in the scene, horrified. Nesta’s beautiful eyes overflowing with tears, her top pulled up to reveal her chest. Her bra was still on, but Tomas had clearly been doing something. And then there he was, a dumb, piece of shit guy with a dumb, piece of shit look on his face.

“Take your hands off her.”

Tomas lifted his hands as if he’d just had a gun pointed at him. Hell, if Cassian only had one. “Hey, man. She said she felt sick. I was just helping her out. She’s the one that wanted to come to my room.” Cassian’s gaze flicked to Nesta’s tear-stained face and then back to Tomas.

“If you don’t get away from her right fucking now, I’ll fucking kill you.” He had half a mind to do it anyway, but his first and only priority was getting Nesta out of this situation. Tomas slowly moved to the edge of the mattress and set his feet on the floor, backing away with his hands still up.

Before Mandray could react, Cassian clocked him across the left side of his face, sending the trash human sprawling. He glowered down at the small man for a moment, then made his way back to the bed. With gentle hands he pulled her blouse back down, covering Nesta’s chest and stomach. Then he cupped her cheeks, wiping away the dampness with his thumbs.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything’s gonna be okay. I’m going to take you home, alright?” Nesta’s answer was less a nod and more just her chin falling forward.

“Itsssshard… to… move,” she whispered, and Cassian’s vision swam in shades of red. The fucking bastard had clearly slipped something in her drink, and the urge to kill Mandray returned with a vengeance. He gathered Nesta against his chest, helping her wind her arms around his neck, and started toward the door.

“If you even think about trying to come after me for punching you, I will destroy you,” Cassian seethed. Then he stalked forward with lethal purpose, his vision tunneled toward one singular goal: getting Nesta out. And he didn’t stop until he reached his Jeep and buckled her into the passenger’s seat.

In the oppressive quiet of his truck, Cassian was caught between cursing himself for living so far off campus and thanking the stars above that he had half an hour to rein himself in and deal with the furious storm of thoughts and emotions screaming through his head.

Thank God I made it in time.

Should I have killed the bastard?

What if I hadn’t been there?

I almost didn’t go after her…

Guilt washed over him in a cold wave. He’d known that she was struggling. All those weeks ago, when he’d left her dorm room he’d thought it was for the best. Cassian fancied himself good with people, good at pushing others to be better and great at making them smile. But it didn’t matter how much he cared for a person or believed in a person; he couldn’t make them believe in themselves.

Perhaps he’d been too arrogant, presuming he was enough of a catch for Nesta to want him enough to want to figure things out. But it had, apparently, backfired spectacularly. Instead of blooming, she’d spiraled. Cassian had watched, just out of sight and heart cracking, as she drowned her sorrows and self-loathing in cheap beer and jungle juice.

What Cassian hadn’t done was step in. The lovely ice queen had drawn a very clear line in the sand, and he’d done everything in his power to respect it. It had been pure coincidence that he’d ended up at the party that night. He’d begrudgingly accepted an invite from one of the counselors at camp, since he’d promised the guy over the summer to come hang with him and his brothers.

And thank fuck he’d said yes. If he hadn’t, Nesta would still be in that bed, trying to fight off that piece of shit Mandray and–

“I lied.”

Cassian nearly jumped out of his skin, even though Nesta had barely whispered the words. When he glanced over at her, she was hunched over and leaning her head against the window.

“What?”

“I lied. When I said I didn’t want you,” she mumbled, and the hulking student couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Oh, I know that, sweetheart.” The snort he received in response brought a small grin to his face.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.” Cassian waited for her to say more, but only silence followed.

For another minute or so.

“You’re too fucking perfect.”

Well that sent his brows straight into his hairline.

“Um… Thank you?” He dared another glance her way to try to get a read on exactly where the hell this was going, but she still faced the window, seemingly fascinated by the trees whizzing by. But she groaned.

“You don’t get it. That’s why I said I didn’t want you. You’re perfect and I’m… God, whatever the fuck this is. I had to scare you away so I wouldn’t crush your sweet, beautiful soul.” Nesta’s voice sounded so tired and sad. Didn’t she realize that it was that forlorn tone that crushed him? And not whatever she thought she would do to him?

“I dunno, Nes. I’ve always thought you were pretty damned great,” he started, but she wouldn’t let him finish.

“Oh, please. I don’t deserve you,” she slurred, a reminder that she was still under the influence of alcohol and whatever drug Tomas had fed her. “You said it, yourself. I’m a frigid bitch.”

Cassian winced.

“Don’t worry, you’re not the first to say that. I’m sure you won’t be the last. Just ask my sisters. Just ask… anyone. I don’t give a fuck about anyone except for myself,” she spat bitterly, and he knew he had to choose his words carefully.

“So… you told me you didn’t want me because you’re selfish and frigid and didn’t want to hurt me?”

“Clearly.”

“But,” Cassian answered, “wouldn’t you not wanting to hurt me imply that you maybe aren’t that selfish?”

Nesta groaned again, the eye-roll apparent. “Stop making sense. I’m too drunk for that.” That simple statement brought him back into reality real fucking quick, and the warmth that had been spreading through him dissipated.

“Yeah. You probably won’t remember any of this in the morning.” Cassian didn’t want to go back to that distance and loneliness and watching this beautiful, intelligent, incredible woman destroy herself.

“Maybe that’s for the best, considering…” Her voice trailed off, quiet and small as she undoubtedly fell into reminiscing about the events of the evening. “I’m glad you were there, Cass. I… you had no reason to come looking for me, but you did it anyway. And I–”

“Hey,” he interrupted, not wanting her to keep thinking about how close she was to things being drastically different. “I’ll always be close, reaching for you. My hand will be there when you need it. You just have to take it.”

When she didn’t answer, Cassian heaved a sigh and leaned further back into his seat. They were only a couple minutes away from the house, and he was relieved that he would be able to get Nesta into bed so she could rest. But then he felt cool fingers sliding into his palm, and when his gaze flicked over to the seat next to him he found her curling her arms around his much larger one, her cheek falling against his bicep. When her fingers wove between his, something sparked and flickered in his chest. Cassian gave her hand a gentle squeeze and set his sights down the road ahead.

~~~

Nesta’s head was pounding and her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton balls. And the morning sun needed the calm the fuck down. With a groan she rolled over, pulling the comforter over her eyes and sucking in a deep, satisfied breath in the sweet, comfortable darkness. The scent that she pulled in was distinctly male, studded with amber and cedar and spice, and Nesta wanted to burrow into that warmth. But then her eyes flew open as the realization struck her.

She was not in her own bed. 

In an instant she threw off the covers and sat up, back rigid and tense as her frantic gaze searched the room. Fuzzy glimpses of the night before returning to her mind in blurry snapshots.

"Hey, hey, hey, you're okay." The soft rumble of a deep, comforting voice instantly put her at ease. And the smell of the blankets suddenly made sense. Her vision focused on a hulking form that settled next to the bed, amber eyes shining with concern. 

"Cassian?"

"How are you feeling?" Nesta's eyes wandered over his hoodie and sweats as he reached toward the nightstand. When his hand returned it held a water bottle toward her. She took it, and then he reached over again to grab a couple little pills. “Do you have a headache? You can take these, but either way you’ll want to drink the whole bottle.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded, as she took the medicine from him. Tossing them in her mouth, she started chugging on the water, realizing again how parched she really was. Finishing off the bottle was an easy feat, and Cassian smirked.

“I’ll go get you another one.”

When he returned he was holding another bottle of water out in front of him, and he placed yet another on the nightstand when he sat down beside the bed. Nesta downed about half of her new water before setting the bottle next to its full companion. Then she rubbed at her eyes, trying to soothe the throbbing in her head. The pain was twofold - the obvious hangover from the alcohol and whatever she’d been dosed with, and the frantic collision of thoughts and questions banging around in her brain.

“You brought me to your place?” Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at herself. Probably wasn’t the best lead-off question, and definitely not the most important part of the previous evening. But she didn’t really want to dwell on Tomas’s assault, and on what almost happened. 

“You fell asleep in the car before we got here. And I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get into the dorm if I took you back there,” he explained, running a hand through his shoulder-length hair. His expression grew sheepish. “I’m sorry if my bringing you here makes you uncomfortable. I.. wasn’t really thinking straight.”

Nesta couldn’t stifle her huff. “Yeah, you and me both.”

And then it was quiet. It wasn’t pleasant, or comfortable. It felt heavy and full of dread. Grim anticipation. And Nesta was afraid, as the seconds ticked by, that she would explode. And she wasn’t sure if it would come out as anger or terror or devastation.

But Cassian spared them both, at least for the moment.

“You.. uh… you said some interesting things on the ride back.”

Oh, fuck me.

“What did I say?” Regardless of whether or not she wanted to know – she hadn’t decided if she did – she needed to know what she’d said to him. And the snapshots that had invaded her mind were all of Tomas’s wandering hands and Cassian bursting in, face twisted with ire, an avenging angel. But even as she wondered, her drunken and drugged ramblings began coming back to her.

“You said you lied when you said you didn’t want me, and that you only said that because I was too perfect and you didn’t want to crush my sweet, beautiful soul,” he answered, the corner of his lips tilting up. “Those were your exact words, too: my sweet, beautiful soul.” With a groan Nesta buried her face in her hands, but a strong, warm grip circled her wrists and pulled her palms away from her face. Cassian was leaning in, his eyes serious even as that little smirk remained. “It was the most genuine conversation I’ve had with you.”

Immediately on the defensive, Nesta sputtered, “Well, I didn’t have a filter. You know what they say; drunk words and all that.” She pulled her wrists away, but Cassian’s broad hands found another home as they cupped her face. His eyes were blazing with passion and hope, and she couldn’t look away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me, Nes,” he breathed. His minty breath scorched her lips, just inches away from kissing him. And, God, she wanted to. She wanted to be done with the games and the ice and the cruelty, even though she didn’t know how.

“I can’t,” she whispered in return.

His mouth was ecstasy as it claimed her, somehow both rough and tender. The kiss was a brand upon her very soul. This was a line crossed, an admission given. Nesta had trusted him with her vulnerable truth, and he responded with acceptance and patience and need. She could feel him sigh against her lips as the kiss calmed and cooled, and then he pulled back, stroking his thumbs across her cheeks.

“You should rest some more, sweetheart.” As if on cue, the pounding in her head became almost dizzying, and she gave a reluctant nod. But she dared one more vulnerability, before she lost her nerve.

“Stay with me?”

Though Cassian didn’t give a verbal answer, his face beamed. He practically leapt into the bed, burrowed beneath the covers, and pulled her back into his chest. She even let out a little giggle, which only made him squeeze her tighter. And then she drifted away, warm and safe.

When Nesta’s eyes fluttered open again, they were met with soft amber, all the while gentle fingers stroked through her hair. She was struck, then, by how handsome he was. Rugged and purely male, but with a tenderness that made him so much more than just sex appeal and muscles. Not that he didn’t have those things in spades. 

“What are you doing?” she mumbled. Cassian’s answering grin was mischievous as his caresses moved from her hair to her cheek.

“Ogling you.”

Nesta scowled playfully. “While I was sleeping?”

“Well,” he looked thoughtful for a moment, “now I’m ogling you while you’re awake.” Cassian dipped down and placed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I can’t help myself.” Before he could pull too far away, Nesta hooked her hand around his neck and brought him back down to her. This time it was she who claimed him. Another line crossed, the pursuit of freedom from all she believed she was and into what she could be.

“Nes–”

“I don’t know how to do this, Cass,” she admitted quietly. It took every ounce of strength she had to hold his stare. “I don’t know how to be good. I don’t know how to be loving and warm. I don’t know if I can become the woman you want.”

“You’re already the woman I want, Nesta. And you’re already good. There’s nothing not good about you,” he answered. And, God, the sincerity in his gaze threatened to leave her in tears. “Give me your ice and your fire. Spar with me with your sharp wit and sharper words. But don’t hide your smiles or your laughter or your tears. I want all of you: your good, your bad, your ugly. Your honesty and vulnerability and trust. You don’t need to worry about my sweet, beautiful soul, Nes, so long as you’re next to me at the end of the day.”

Nesta pulled him down again, and she was awash in flames. Every part of her craved him: her body, her mind, her heart, her soul. Cassian’s mammoth form was a welcome weight above her, a shield from the rest of the world, and she wanted nothing more to be joined with him until they were so tangled that there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

As their mouths battled and tongues warred, Nesta tugged up on his sweatshirt. He was quick on the uptake, lifting himself up to pull it over his head in one fluid motion. Fuck, he was built, with well defined shoulders, pecs, and abs. Everything about him was massive and masculine and sexy as hell. As much as she wanted to continue her… appreciation… for his form, Nesta took the opportunity to pull her own blouse over her head and unclasp her bra. After Tomas, she felt more in control if she did the removing, and she knew that Cass wouldn’t want to push or make her uncomfortable.

If baring her chest to him by her own free will wasn’t enough of a sign that she was in this, then she wasn’t sure what else she’d be able to do.

A bright, flashing neon sign.

“Fuck, Nes,” he groaned, coming back down on top of her. She could feel his hardness against her thigh as he kissed her again, and her stomach twisted with delight.

Message clearly received.

He breathed in her gasps as one of his enormous hands palmed her breast, kneading and squeezing. Another experience with those hands came to mind, when he’d used his fingers on her until she’d nearly drowned in pleasure. Those hands were rough, and yet somehow he knew just how to use them to wring every drop of ecstasy out of her.

Cassian teased and tweaked her nipples, pulling little moans and grunts from her throat as he played her body like a fucking violin. Nesta’s hands moved from where she’d buried them in his luscious mane to her pants, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them down as far as she could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“More,” she breathed, gripping his wrist and guiding his touch down and down and down. “I need… more.”

Boy, was he intent on delivering.

His fingers drifted into her heat, lightly caressing her clit before he buried two inside her at the same time he sucked a nipple between his teeth. Nesta’s fingers found his hair, again, digging in as if she were holding on for dear life. She cried out in a hoarse voice as her blood sang, those magic fingers doing their blessed work, just like she remembered. 

“You’re so wet for me, Nes,” Cassian rasped against her flesh. “God, so wet and hot and ready.” His words were like sin, sinking into her pores and anchoring deep in her belly. There was hardly a thing he could say that would turn her off, though, if she were being completely honest. He was breaking down her walls, word by word and stroke by stroke, and she wanted to be completely bare to him, even if that thought scared the shit out of her.

It only took a few more extra pumps and curls of his fingers for her to come undone, his name on her lips like a prayer. And then they were helping each other rid themselves of the remainder of their clothing.

Cassian’s cock was proportionate to the rest of him: huge. And she wanted to feel it inside of her, stretching her in all the best ways.

Nesta gave him one languid stroke, from base to tip. Then she hooked her arm around his neck and pulled him back down onto the bed. 

“I want you, Cassian,” she whispered.

That was all he needed to hear.

When Cassian thrust into her, it was like nothing she’d ever felt. It was delicious and despicable and took her breath away.

“Oh, fuck.” Her head fell back as she gripped the bedsheets. This man filled her in ways that weren’t just physical, but good fucking God was the physical fullness a fucking revelation. He pulled out, until just the head remained inside, and then he thrust in again, forcing a groan from her lips.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” he hissed, leaning in to plunge his tongue between her teeth. Cassian consumed her, and she could only hold on as his tempo increased and his mouth became more demanding and filthy. He nibbled and licked up her jaw and suckled on that sensitive place right below her ear. “You take my cock so beautifully, Nesta. I can feel you squeezing me as I fuck you and its the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking experienced.”

“Fuck, Cass!” was all she could manage to say. Her breath came out in stutters and gasps as he buried himself so deep inside her she thought she might split in two. And, still, she needed more. She needed everything, and so she locked her legs around his pistoning hips and dug her fingernails into the firm muscles of his back. “Please.”

Cassian snarled as his hips bucked, hammering into her harder and deeper, until she could no longer contain the cries of pleasure that he inspired. This was feral and raw and soul-deep, and that understanding sent her straight to the edge.

“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he crooned between panting breaths as sweat dotted his brow in little drops of glitter. Nesta squealed in answer, ratcheting higher and higher.

And somehow this towering man had snuck his hand between them, just to press his thumb against the swollen and needy bud at her apex. She shattered on a scream of overwhelming pleasure, her thighs trembling and she fought to regain her vision beyond the stars that had invaded. Keeping his thumb on her clit, pushing her orgasm to a height she never realized was possible, Cassian came with a roar. Then he fell, half on top of her, his broad shoulders heaving.

For a few moments the only things in the world were Nesta and Cassian, the sounds of their breathing, and the pounding of their hearts. Nesta carded her fingers lazily through his ebony waves, while his hand idly stroked up and down the outside of her thigh.

“How are you feeling?” Cassian’s deep voice was like a purr, vibrating through her entire being. She knew he was probably asking about how she felt after last night and this morning; if her headache was gone and if she was well-rested. Or maybe he was asking if the sex had been too much. On the contrary, she already had plans for more.

“Ready to do it again,” she replied, and his answering growl set her aflame once more. Cassian’s tongue traced the line of her jaw before his lips landed at her ear again.

“Put your hands on the headboard, sweetheart.”

Tag List: @headcanonheadcase @vikingmagic33 @damedechance @daevastanner @mystical-blaise @booknerd87 @foreverinelysian @shadowsxgwynriel @sunshinebingo @mercarimari

#acotar writing circle #acotarwritingcircle #acotar #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nessian au #nessian fanfic #nessian fanfiction #smut #nessian smut #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #sjm #sarah j maas #my first nessian fic ever

[theladyofdeath]

Snowed in smut? Nessian or Elorcan?

It's been a while since I've posted shameless smut...

18+ readers only

Ship: Nesta x Cassian Trope: You're cold? I know how to warm you up. Rating: M for mature, 18+ only. Warnings: Shameless smut, language, 18+ only.

A burst of cold air swept into the living room as Cassian pushed the front door open and stepped inside. With a curse, he shoved the door against the wind until it latched. "We're not going anywhere today." Nesta watched her fiance shrug off his coat and hang it on a hook by the door. "I could barely see two feet in front of me. By the time I plowed the entire driveway, you couldn't even tell."

With a glance out the window, Nesta understood. All she could see was a whirl of white chaos. Although the snow was beautiful, it did create a string of undeniable complications. "I'll text Feyre. Let her know we're snowed in."

After unlacing his boots, Cassian slipped them off, careful not to step off the rug. If he did, the carpet would get wet and muddy, and he'd have to endure Nesta's wrath.

Something he'd learned from experience.

Nesta had just texted Feyre when Cassian plopped down on the couch beside her and put his hand on her bare thigh. She screeched and pushed him away, which only made him grin. "Your hands are freezing, get them off me!"

He yanked off his hat, tossing it aside, his long hair messy, damp, and wild. "Yeah, they are, and as my future wife, it's your job to warm them up."

"I don't think that was a part of the contract when you proposed," she argued, wrapping her blanket tighter around her.

"There was a contract?" Cassian asked, digging his feet under her blanket and rubbing them against her leg. His feet were socked, but even the socks were cold. She kicked him in the shin. His grin widened. "If there's a contract, I want that added. Warm me up when I'm cold."

With a roll of her eyes, she backed as far away as she could on the sectional without falling off. "That should most definitely not be in the contract."

Cassian shot her a fake frown that he put a whole lot of effort in. Nesta didn't buy it for a second. "If you're not gonna warm me up, who will?"

"Brandy," she suggested. "Gin. Whiskey. They've all warmed you before, I'm sure they'd do it again if you ask nicely."

Cassian's mock frown broke as he chuckled. "As nicely as they make me feel, it's just not the same."

He inched closer to her.

She tucked her feet underneath her legs. "Come closer and regret it."

His grin only spread. In a matter of seconds, Cassian had jumped on his fiance and wrapped her in his arms, burying his face into the nook of her neck. She yelped and groaned and smacked at him, but it did no good whatsoever. He had her secured within his arms as he laid back against the couch with her snuggled close between him and the couch cushions.

"Ah," he sighed, contentedly, "so warm."

"Brute," she mumbled, but twined her legs between his. "I can't stand you."

"Liar," he crooned, digging his arms beneath her blanket. Before she could protest once more, her blanket was no longer hers alone.

Although cold at first, Cassian quickly warmed up. They laid in a comfortable, peaceful silence. Nesta's forehead lay comfortably against his chest. Once his hands began running tenderly up and down her back, she was practically purring.

"See?" he muttered, his chin resting on the top of her head. "You like warming me up."

"Debatable," she said, voice muffled against his sweatshirt.

Their day had been full of eventful plans. They were going to go to Feyre and Rhysand's, considering they hadn't visited them since Christmas. They were going to snuggle Nyx and eat a ton of food that was not good for them, and maybe get a little bit tipsy, as they often did when their entire family got together.

But snuggling together on the couch with not a care in the world? It was just as good.

Maybe better.

Perfect.

Nesta leaned back and looked up at the love of her life. Not at all to her surprise, Cassian was already watching her, intently. There was something about the way that he looked at her that made every ounce of her body tremble. Before him, she didn't know that such looks existed.

She kissed him, slowly.

His tongue slid between her lips without a thought and she melted into him. There was something about Cassian that she would never understand, something unfathomable. He was an ass, cocky and snarky and full of himself, but he was also the sweetest, most gentle man that Nesta had ever known. He loved her unconditionally, loved her without fault.

That kiss of theirs deepened and every thought that dwelled in the depths of Nesta's mind vanished. Cassian's hands wandered, the callouses on his fingertips leaving tingles against her skin in their wake.

Nesta had lost count of how many times that she had been with Cassian over the years. Their sex had been evolutionary, going from wild and primal to soft and romantic, and everything in between. Cassian always surprised her in bed, always knew how to make sure that she was pleased and taken care of. That was why she was certain she would never get enough of it, enough of him, of being with him so intimately. At this point in their long relationship, making love was so natural that she felt she needed it to function, to breathe.

With a tug of her bottom lip with his teeth, Cassian rolled them over until Nesta was on top and he grabbed her ass, grinding his hardening length against her. Nesta let out a breathy moan, then chuckled as he sat up, straddling his waist. With her palms laid flat against his chest, she said, "Maybe we should stop fucking until the wedding."

Cassian's entire body went still. He blinked. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then blinked again. "We don't get married for another four months."

"I'm aware," she said. Cassian hesitated, only relaxing when a slow grin spread across her mouth. "I'm just kidding, but the look on your face-"

She didn't get another word out before Cassian tackled her against the couch, pining her with his hips, tickling her until she screamed and thrashed and called him every irreverent, filthy name in the book. Cutting off a long string of curses, Cassian crashed his mouth against hers, and as her words died off, she wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

"What if I wanted to wait?" Nesta asked, the words muffled against his mouth.

"I'd do whatever the hell you want," Cassian confessed, but shook his head, his nose brushing hers. "But, I'd hate every minute of it."

Laughing quietly, Nesta sank back into their kiss. Every brush of his tongue against hers set her skin on fire. With curious fingers, she slipped her hands beneath his sweatpants and boxers, and squeezed his bare ass.

It drove him wild.

After tearing off his sweatshirt and the t-shirt beneath, he stripped Nesta of her top and kissed up her stomach. Her bralette became nothing more than a scrap on the carpet before he took her peaked nipple into his mouth and sucked, slowly. Nesta's eyes fluttered shut as she ran her fingers through his long, dampened hair.

After being with someone so long, there was something about lazy sex that was completely fulfilling. It started off casual, dreamily, and ended somewhere primal and unreal. They were currently in that lazy stage, which Nesta truly adored, as Cassian laid his cheek against her chest, her nipple still snugly between his lips. His eyes closed as she moaned, his teeth softly grazing one of her most sensitive parts as she ran her fingers through his hair again and again.

"Remember when we first started dating?" Nesta said, quietly, dwelling in her bliss. "We were animals."

Cassian chuckled, taking a second to glance up at her. "Is that your way of telling me that you're not satisfied right now?"

Nesta laughed and shook her head, giving his hair a tug before she resumed running her fingers through the thick locks. "Actually, I like exactly where this is going." He raised a brow and her smile grew. "You know me perfectly, know everything I like."

"And that's better than fucking like animals?"

"Much better."

"I'll try not to be too offended by that," Cassian murmured, nipping at her nipple before kissing his way up the column of her neck.

"Don't be," she laughed, pulling him up to meet her lips. "It's a compliment."

"Mhmm." He bit her earlobe and tugged, as his hand slid down her stomach and under her leggings. Nesta's legs spread wide for him. His fingers met wet heat, and he grinned as he kissed her again.

They absentmindedly finished undressing one another, and there was something a little rebellious about being naked on the couch in pure daylight. Once upon a time, such a thought wouldn't be rebellious at all, but now there was something risky about it. Something vulnerable.

Cassian took his time exploring Nesta like it was the very first time. He kissed and tasted and worshiped every inch of her body, and by the time he slid his cock deep inside of her, Nesta was putty in the palms of his hands.

The little sounds that fell from her mouth with every thrust still drove him wild, even after all this time. He clung to her, her leg tossed snugly over his waist, his mouth never leaving hers as drove into her again and again.

They melded together, their bodies fitting perfectly as one, and Nesta wasn't sure if it was because they had been together for so long or if it had always been that way. She didn't care. All she cared about was that when they were together, it was perfect.

Nesta had her face shoved into a throw pillow when her knees began to shake. Cassian's hands were on her breasts, his hips snapping into hers from behind.

"Cass," she pleaded, his name breathless on her lips. "Fuck, I-"

He pinched her nipples as he drove into her, relentlessly, and the words on her lips faded away as she lost all sense of control and drifted into a state of utter euphoria. The house echoed with the sounds that came out of her, all while her release shook and guided her body. Spewing every unholy word in the book, Cassian soon followed her lead, falling to his own release as Nesta came around him.

They rode it out together, until they collapsed on the couch, bundled in each other's arms, sweating and catching their breaths.

Nesta pulled Cassian close to her once they were settled and kissed him, softly. "Warm enough?"

Cassian's deep chuckle had her smiling up at him. "If I say no, are we going again?"

Her grin widened. "Cold or not, I'm not leaving this couch."

And they didn't for the rest of the afternoon.

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