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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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And They Call It Puppy Love

A/N: Listen, I know the Rivalry prompt for @nessianweek was probably meant more for Nesta and Cassian as rivals, but I just think there's something so funny about Cassian having a rivalry and beef with an animal sooooo yeah :) Shout-out to the Anon who sent me this prompt! And also, I imagine Nesta's dog as a black Australian shepherd.

Read on AO3

“Who’s a good boy? That’s right. You’re a good boy.”

The voice floats to Cassian through the wood of the apartment door, light and sweet. It fills his chest with an easy warmth, but try as he might, there’s no stopping the grimace that tugs at his lips. He sighs softly and pushes his fingers up and through his hair, rolling his shoulders back once before he raises his fist to knock. He’s better than this. Barks echo around him for a moment, and then the apartment door is opening.

“Hey,” Nesta greets him, that small, private smile lighting up her face.

“I brought everything to make your favorite,” Cassian tells her, raising the bag in his hand for her to see.

Nesta’s smile widens at that, the sight sending Cassian’s heart skipping between his ribs. “You’re too good to me.”

“Not possible, sweetheart.”

Cassian presses a kiss to Nesta’s cheek as he steps inside the apartment, relishing in the pink he can see starting to bloom across her skin. He discards his leather jacket and shoes in her front entryway and walks into her kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter and pulling out all the ingredients he grabbed on the way over. Deft hands slip beneath the hem of his tee, sliding along his waist, and Cassian finally gives into his grin as Nesta presses her forehead between his shoulder blades.

“Can I help with anything?” Nesta asks, her voice slightly muffled against the cotton fabric.

“After last time? No.”

He feels more than he hears her quiet huff, and though he can’t see her, Cassian is sure that she rolls her eyes. “It was just one, small, tiny, little grease fire.”

Cassian chuckles and turns around in her arms, cradling her jaw in his palms and tilting her face up toward his. “I’ll cook. You can do the dishes.”

“Deal,” Nesta agrees, pressing up onto her toes and kissing him sweetly.

Nesta goes to pull away from him, but Cassian is having none of that. He curls his arm around her waist and tugs her right back into him, kissing her properly, languidly. She practically melts against him, fingers curling into his shirt, and when he finally pulls back, that pretty blush he loves so much is spilling across her cheeks again. Her eyelashes flutter for a moment and then that stormy blue gaze is on him. Cassian doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how beautiful her eyes are. How beautiful she is.

Nesta finally slips from his grasp, but she doesn’t go far, hopping up to sit on the counter, so Cassian gets to work. He grabs the pots and pans he’ll need for the dish, setting them on Nesta’s stovetop, and snags the cutting board he spots near the sink. He slides his hand along Nesta’s knees as he steps around her, grabbing the fresh veggies he bought and giving them a good rinse.

“Where do you keep your good knives?”

“The drawer by the coffee machine.”

With a nod, Cassian sets the vegetables down on the cutting board and steps toward the drawer in question, but his path is blocked. He tries to keep his smile easy and friendly, tries to keep his voice light as he says, “excuse me, Bingley.”

But unsurprisingly, the dog sprawled across the kitchen tiles and in his way doesn’t budge. In fact, Bingley merely lifts his head from his paws and narrows his eyes at Cassian, practically daring him to say something, to do something. The look has Cassian’s fingers itching with the urge to dig his phone from his pocket, to snap a photo as proof of a fact that Cassian has known since the first time he stepped inside Nesta’s apartment.

Nesta’s dog hates him.

He’s sure of it. The way his shoes are never quite safe when he stays over. The way Bingley will growl at him whenever Nesta slips out of the room and out of earshot. The way Bingley will tangle his leash around Cassian’s legs when they go to the park. The way Bingley straight up glares at him just like he is currently doing. Cassian swears on the Cauldron that the dog despises him.

When Cassian had informed his brothers of this fact on one of their boys’ nights out, Rhys had laughed so hard he nearly fell off the barstool. And when Cassian had pulled up Nesta’s Instagram to show Bingley to both of them, it had even pulled a laugh from Azriel. According to his brothers, the dark brown fur that was a bit wavy around the ears and the light brown eyes made Bingley look like the dog version of him, which to them, made the whole thing even funnier. Cassian hadn’t joined in their laughter. Instead, he had grumbled into his pint glass about how he would be best friends with himself if he was actually a dog.

And despite the months he’s been dating Nesta since, the animosity that Bingley harbors toward him hasn’t lessened, and no amount of friendly smiles or words, no amount of attempted and failed pets or scratches, no amount of treats seem to deter the Australian shepherd. Cassian is twice the dog's size, and yet he still feels like he’s losing the battle.

But he refuses to lose the war.

So with a soft sigh and a glare of his own that Nesta won’t be able to see, Cassian leans over Bingley, tugging open the drawer and grabbing the knife he’s looking for. Him, one. Bingley, zero.

It doesn’t take him long to whip up their dinner, Cassian sidling up between Nesta’s legs and stealing a kiss or two in between stirs, raising the spoon to her lips for a taste test after each step. And when they’ve finished eating and all the dishes are washed, Cassian and Nesta retreat to her sofa, scrolling through one of the streaming services to find a movie to watch.

Cassian slides his arm across the back of the sofa, his fingers curling around Nesta’s shoulder, but before he can tug her closer, Bingley decides to jump up onto the sofa too. Right in between them. He’s clearly undeterred by the lack of space available, moving and shifting around until Cassian has to scoot over to get away from the paw digging uncomfortably into his thigh. Cassian presses his lips together, forcefully swallowing down the sigh desperate to be released. It’s only the smile that graces Nesta’s face as she scratches Bingley’s ears that keeps him from requesting the dog get down.

Still, Cassian doesn’t miss the way Bingley looks over toward him before pointedly settling his head in Nesta’s lap. The message is clear. The only person who will be cuddling Nesta tonight is her dog. Bingley, one. Cassian, one. And later, when Cassian goes to slip beneath the sheets with Nesta, he finds Bingley already on the bed, leaving only a sliver of mattress available, the dog once again decidedly taking the spot beside Nesta.

Bingley, two. Cassian, one.

~ * * * ~

Cassian is just stepping inside his apartment after his morning run when his phone rings. He digs it out of his pocket and finds Nesta’s photo flashed across the screen. He can’t help but stare at it. The way her nose is scrunched adorably. The way she’s mid-eyeroll. The way he can see the first hints of that fond smile breaking through even in this captured moment. It’s his favorite photo of her.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Cassian greets through the phone, pressing speakerphone and setting the phone on his kitchen counter while he prepares his post workout shake.

There’s a sniffle on the other line followed by a quiet cough. “Cass, I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to cancel our plans today. I woke up feeling like shit.”

The croak in her voice has Cassian’s heart squeezing, and he swipes his phone to press back to his ear. “You don’t have to apologize, Nes. You sound terrible. I bet it’s that virus that’s going around. A bunch of people at the office have been out sick all week.”

“Whatever it is, I hate it.”

“Do you have medicine? Some soup? Everything you need?”

“I think…? I haven’t found the motivation to get out of bed just yet.”

Cassian is already moving through his apartment and toward his bedroom when he speaks again. “I just got back from my run. Give me some time to shower and hit the store, and then I’ll be right over.”

“Cassian, you don’t—”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

Cassian can hear Nesta grumbling through the phone, but it soon turns into another coughing fit, and that solidifies his decision. After he hangs up with Nesta, he quickly showers and gets dressed, hopping in his car and stopping at the store before he’s finally walking up the steps of Nesta’s apartment building. He shifts all his bags to one hand so he can knock, and it takes a few moments before he finally hears shuffling on the other side of the door, the click of the lock.

When Nesta tugs open the door, she definitely looks worse for wear. She has a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders, the golden brown strands of her hair slightly mussed and falling out of her simple braid. Her skin looks pale and clammy, her blue eyes almost a dull gray. She offers Cassian a few slow, tired blinks and then steps back, allowing him to step inside the apartment. He makes quick work of unloading all the items he brought, refrigerating what needs to be kept cold and setting everything else on the counter.

“You really didn’t have to come over and do all this,” Nesta tells him, hovering just inside the kitchen.

“Nes,” Cassian chuckles softly, stepping over to her and framing her face with his hands. He frowns when he feels how warm her skin is beneath his palm. “Let me take care of you.”

Nesta peers up at him, a frown of her own marring her face, and Cassian hates it. He hates the skepticism he can see dancing across her expression. It makes him want to track down every single one of her exes and punch them in the face.

“I know I look like shit and that you could be spending your day doing far better things.”

“First of all, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen even when you’re sick. Second of all, I want to spend time with you. And third of all,” Cassian tells her, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

Nesta’s face starts to scrunch up, but she steps closer and hides it against his chest. “I love you too.”

He can feel Nesta shiver against him, so Cassian wraps his arms tightly around her, allowing her to leech as much of his warmth as she can. But after a moment, he guides her out of the kitchen and onto the sofa, grabbing one of the spare blankets and draping that over her as well. A quick glance around and he spots Bingley watching him curiously, the dog’s head tilted slightly.

“Come on, Bingley,” Cassian requests, patting the cushion beside Nesta. “Come watch over our girl for a few minutes.”

Surprisingly, the Australian shepherd listens, ambling into the room and jumping up onto the sofa. The dog settles his head in Nesta’s lap, so, content to know that Nesta’s in good hands, Cassian heads out of the living room. He makes a brief pitstop in the kitchen before stepping into Nesta’s bathroom, running her a hot bath. When the tub is full, he adds some epsom salt and a few drops of eucalyptus oil to mix with the steam and help with the congestion. With a satisfied nod, he goes to retrieve Nesta, finding her right where he left her.

“Did you run a bath?” Nesta asks from beneath her pile of blankets. “I heard the water running.”

“Just for you, sweetheart.” He scoops Nesta up and into his arms, carrying her down the hall and into the bathroom. “You soak, and I’ll make you some soup, okay?”

That same expression from before starts to take over Nesta’s face again, but a pointed look from him has her swallowing down any words of protest with a sigh. She drops the blanket from around her shoulders, so Cassian presses one last kiss into her hair and retreats back into the kitchen.

He whips up some chicken noodle soup with ease, the family recipe like second nature as he moves about Nesta’s kitchen. Bingley lays on the kitchen floor and watches him the entire time, but Cassian tries not to pay the dog any mind. He’s too focused on Nesta, on finishing this soup for her, on keeping his ears pricked for any sounds coming from the bathroom to worry about going another round with the dog.

He’s just ladeling some soup into a bowl when he hears quiet sniffles, turning to watch Nesta shuffle into the kitchen. She’s changed into an oversized crewneck and sweats after her bath, some of the color having returned to her cheeks.

“A bath and homemade soup?” Nesta teases lightly, scrubbing her sleeve beneath her nose.

“Only the best for you.”

After Nesta finishes the soup and takes some medicine, Cassian presses the back of his hand to her forehead. She’s still too warm for his liking so he coaxes her back into bed, tucking the blankets tight around her shoulders.

“I still have to take Bingley for a walk,” Nesta protests, looking adorable with her cheek squished by the pillow.

“I can take him for a walk,” Cassian promises, sweeping her hair away from her face. “You just try and get some sleep.”

He steps out of Nesta’s room and closes the door behind him with a quiet snick, but once he’s alone in the hall, he takes a moment to let out a quiet breath. He can do this. He can take a dog that hates his guts for a walk. Squaring his shoulders and cracking his neck, Cassian strides into the front entryway of Nesta’s apartment, grabbing the leash hanging from the hook there. As though the sound has summoned him, Bingley comes ambling in, pausing a foot away from Cassian and staring him down.

“Alright, Bingley. If you’re going to fight me at least wait until we leave the apartment. Nes needs to rest.”

Cassian waits for the growl, waits for Bingley to snap or try to bite him, but it never comes. Instead, Bingley closes the distance between them and dips his head, waiting. Cassian practically chokes on his surprise, blinking a few times to ensure his eyes aren’t deceiving him, that this is really happening. Slowly, carefully, he slides the leash into place, opening the front door and allowing Bingley to lead the way down the stairs and out of the apartment building.

The whole walk feels like a blur. There’s no twisting and wrapping the leash around his legs. No tugging against his hold and pulling him in every direction. No taking off as soon as they’re outside, which was Cassian’s worst fear. Instead, Bingley keeps an easy pace, pausing occasionally to do his business, until they’ve done a solid loop of the whole neighborhood.

Nesta is awake when they make it back to the apartment. She’s able to nibble and keep down some crackers, and Cassian makes sure she drinks plenty of water. He gives her some more medicine and gets her back into bed. This time, he slips beneath the blankets with her, tugging her into his arms.

“You’re going to end up sick too, you know,” Nesta points out, even as she shifts to curl tighter into his chest.

“Maybe that’s my plan all along,” Cassian offers, tracing soothing shapes up and down her spine. “We both end up sick and then we’re trapped in this apartment together for days.”

“You’re the worst.”

“And you need to sleep.”

Nesta hums noncommittally, but after a few minutes, her breathing evens out, her body relaxing fully against him. Cassian keeps his arms securely around her, turning his head and pressing a kiss into her hair. He stays like that, letting his own eyes flutter closed and soaking up the peace of the moment.

The mattress shifting and moving beneath him has Cassian’s eyes jolting open again. He peers through the dark of the bedroom, using the light spilling around the drawn curtains to see Bingley standing at the foot of the bed. Cassian’s arms tighten around Nesta, as if he can put off the inevitable, can stop the way Bingley will squeeze into the space between them, all but knocking Cassian out of the bed and taking up the space beside Nesta, just as the dog always does.

But his bated breath quickly morphs into bewilderment, as Bingley merely settles at their feet, curling up and resting his head on his paws. The Australian shepherd stares at Cassian a moment before letting out a quiet huff and shutting his eyes. It feels a lot like a peace offering, a lot like a truce.

“Good boy, Bingley.”

—

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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Let’s Talk About You And Me

happy day 2 of @nessianweek everyone! today’s contribution is spice spice and more spice so I hope you have a glass of water nearby 😏

Summary: After their friends tease them for being relentless horndogs, Nesta and Cassian make a bet about how long the other can last without any sex.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Smut full-steam ahead. Edging, dirty talk, degradation, dominant!Nesta

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta

It was the first Friday of the month, and that could only mean one thing: game night at Gwyn and Azriel’s place.

Once a month, everyone who was available gathered at Gwyn and Azriel’s for game night. For once everyone they invited actually showed up, so the living room was a little more crowded than usual, but that was alright. Nesta liked being able to see all the people she cared about at once, and this certainly made it easier.

As usual, Nesta and Cassian had been the last to arrive, much to the assembled group’s amusement.

“Jesus, what took you two so long?” Feyre asked once they got inside. She and Rhys were cuddled up on the armchair, Rhys’ armed curled casually around her waist. “Actually, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Ha ha,” Nesta replied sarcastically, slipping off her shoes so she could claim her usual spot on the sectional. Elain helpfully moved out of the way so she could have some more room, though Nesta suspected being able to snuggle further into Lucien’s body was a strong motivator. “You’re so funny.”

“Feyre darling’s a real comedian,” Rhys jumped to her defense immediately.

“Maybe she should try better material,” Cassian replied, taking off his jacket before plopping down next to Nesta. “If you’re so concerned, there was a fuckton of traffic on our way here.”

“Traffic, he says,” Mor chimed in with a laugh. She exchanged a knowing look with Emerie before adding, “That excuse only works when there’s actually traffic on the road.”

“There was a huge accident on 395,” Nesta protested. Driving in DC wasn’t for the faint of heart, especially on a Friday night. “Turn on the news right now if you don’t believe me.”

“And even if we were fucking,” Cassian added, “it’s not like we’re the only ones that have run a little late because of it.”

“Respectfully, no,” Azriel replied over the others’ laughter. “You two are the worst.”

“What?” Cassian responded, playfully affronted. “We’re not that bad!”

“As someone who’s lived with you, I have to aggressively disagree,” Azriel answered. “No offense, but you’re the worst.”

“It’s true,” Gwyn chimed in, giggling as she came back into the living room with a fresh bowl of chips. “As someone who’s also lived with you, I can confirm.”

“So much for loyalty,” Nesta responded with a playful roll of her eyes.

“The truth is more important,” Gwyn told her primly, though she made sure to walk in front of Nesta so she could get first dibs on the snacks.

“Our friends are such assholes,” Cassian muttered.

Nesta snorted. “I’ve been telling you that for years .”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” Elain said with a laugh. “Let’s pick a game now that everyone’s here. Luce, pass me the cards?”

The sex-related teasing died down once they started playing, though that certainly didn’t stop the game-related teasing as the night wore on. They’d assembled enough Uno cards for everyone to play even with a group as large as them, and once they’d sorted through the usual arguing about whether a draw two could go on top of a draw four and if they had to say uno out, Emerie and Lucien ended up winning the most rounds.

By the time Nesta and Cassian made it back home, Nesta was more than ready to get ready for bed and hunker down with the next chapter of the latest Sellyn Drake release, but it seemed Cassian had other plans.

“Does it bother you?” Cassian asked as they stood next to one another in the bathroom getting ready for bed. He was gently pulling his curls into his usual pineapple while she washed her face, and the sheer domesticity of it all made something warm bloom in her chest.

Nesta finished rinsing and reached for a washcloth to pat her face dry. “Does what bother me?”

“That our friends think we’re such horndogs,” he told her.

“Not really,” she answered as she swiped toner across her clean skin. If she was being honest, even though she was a private person, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that everyone knew they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. “Does it bother you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. He reached for the silk scarf he used to protect his curls and leaned his head down so he could wrap it around his head, gently tucking the ends in to protect his hair. “I don’t know. Do they think we’re just fucking all the time and don’t actually talk?”

“That’s idiotic,” Nesta said, reaching for her moisturizer. “We don’t need to have sex all the time to have a solid relationship.”

“Of course not,” Cassian said back. He stood back up and swiped her micellar water with a grin. “Don’t get me wrong, I love having sex with you, but…”

“But we don’t need it,” she finished his sentence. She reached out and grabbed her toothbrush, adding some toothpaste before rinsing it and starting to brush her teeth. “Exactly.”

“I mean, I think you get a little cranky if you’re not getting it on the regular,” he added, smirking, “but you’re dating me, so that’s to be expected.”

“Excuse me?” she replied, pausing her brushing to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “ I get cranky?”

“The evidence doesn’t lie, sweetheart,” he answered cockily. “You get all huffy if it’s been too long. It’s adorable.”

“Says the man who woke me up last night to have sex with me,” she fired back, scoffing. He thought she got cranky if they didn’t have enough sex? If there was one thing men never ran out of, it was audacity. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That was an emergency,” he retorted. He reached for his own toothbrush and quickly began brushing his own teeth, waggling his eyebrows at her via the mirror. “Doesn’t change what I said.”

If her boyfriend had stopped talking approximately thirty seconds sooner, maybe they could’ve gone to bed in peace. But instead, he had to open his big mouth and add, “I’m not the problem here.”

“If you really think I’m the problem,” Nesta began haughtily, briefly pausing to spit and rinse the toothpaste out of her mouth, “then it definitely won’t be a problem if I stop giving it up altogether.”

“You can’t be serious,” Cassian replied after a second of stunned silence, reaching out to try and wrap an arm around her waist. His mouth dropped open a little bit when she deftly avoided him and started walking back to their bedroom so she could put on her pajamas. “Nes. Come on.”

“Don’t ‘Nes’ me,” she tossed over her shoulder. He followed her into their closet and she pointedly ignored the way he leaned against the doorframe to watch her change into a tank and loose shorts. “If I’m the problem, then it won’t be difficult for you. Right?”

“Of course not,” he said, challenge gleaming in his eyes. “And when you come back begging me to fuck you, I promise I won’t be mean about it.”

“That’s adorable.” She tossed her worn clothes in the hamper and walked into their bedroom, not even giving him a spare glance once he started stripping. “I can’t say I’ll do the same for you.”

“Fine,” Cassian answered. He sauntered into their bedroom only wearing boxers, and while normally she would’ve shamelessly ogled him, she wasn’t going down easy. Instead of reaching for him, she loosely braided her hair for sleep and busied herself with making sure all her devices were plugged in. “If that’s how you want to play it, sweetheart.”

“Fine,” Nesta echoed. She pulled down the comforter and got under the sheets, taking an immense amount of satisfaction from the disbelieving look on his face. “Good night, Cassian.”

Cassian turned off the light before sliding under the covers, too. “Good night, Nesta.”

The next morning, Nesta woke up to Cassian plastered across her back as usual. She could tell he was awake from the way he was gently rubbing circles into her stomach, and while on any other morning she would’ve ground back into his morning wood, this wasn’t any other morning.

“Good morning,” Cassian murmured into her ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her neck.

“Good morning,” Nesta whispered back. Her body was already responding to his hands and his lips and his voice – Jesus, he wasn’t even trying, she needed to pull herself together – but she wasn’t going down without a fight. “Are you going to shower first?”

“Shower?” he asked, clearly confused. It was a Sunday, so they didn’t have anywhere to be, and they usually spent them lounging around and catching up on chores after a few rounds of morning sex. “What do you mean?”

“To take care of that,” she answered, pushing back into him just enough to be a tease. “Unless you want to take back what you said, of course.”

“I don’t have to take it back when I was right,” he replied with a low chuckle. His morning voice should be illegal, she thought to herself. “But whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“Then I hope your hand feels better than mine,” she fired back. She wiggled out of his grip with a little more body contact than necessary, taking her time to stand up, turn to face him, and stretch in a way she knew emphasized her chest. “I’m going to eat something.”

Nesta made sure Cassian saw her smirk before she turned and made her way to the kitchen, feeling more than confident that she was winning this war as she poured herself a bowl of cereal. Her good mood only got better as she heard her boyfriend grumble all the way to the bathroom, and she was practically whistling by the time she finished eating and took her dishes to the sink so she could wash everything.

She was washing her bowl out when Cassian finally emerged, dressed in a low-cut green tank top and a pair of black shorts. He’d pulled his curls back into a loose bun, a few strands escaping toward the front, and damn if the sight of him almost made her want to reconsider their competition. “Are you going to the gym?”

“Yup,” Cassian answered. Even though their kitchen had more than enough room, as he passed her he put his hands on her waist and made a show of grinding his front to her back. “Excuse me.”

“The protein powder’s in the other cabinet, idiot,” she told him, thoroughly ignoring how much he’d set her ablaze with just that one touch.

“Oops,” he said sarcastically. He pressed himself against her again as he went to the right cabinet, taking his time to really make sure she felt every inch of his muscled body against hers before he grabbed the protein powder. “My mistake.”

She just rolled her eyes as she dried her now-clean bowl, moving to put it away on the second shelf of the cabinet where they kept their plates and bowls. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Need some help with that?” he asked from behind her, crowding her between his body and the counter. He reached out and plucked the bowl from her fingers, rocking his hips up as he put it with the rest of the clean dishes, and she had to bite back a moan at how good it felt.

At this angle, it would be so easy for her to lean her head back on his shoulder and let him have his way with her. To let him hoist one leg up, pull her loose shorts to the side, and fuck her until she couldn’t walk. To let him—

Nesta mentally shook herself before she let her fantasies go any further. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and she was already losing her cool like this? She needed to get a goddamn grip.

“Thank you,” Nesta managed to get out without her voice giving her away. It was a relief when he backed away from her with a little chuckle, like he knew exactly what direction her thoughts had traveled in without her saying a word. “Have a good workout.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Cassian replied, still amused. He gave her a quick kiss on the temple before he finished shaking up his drink, grabbed a handful of snacks to hold him over, and moved toward the door. “Don’t break your vibrator trying to replace me!”

“Fuck you,” she called out. He laughed before shutting the door behind him, leaving her alone and thankfully distraction-free.

With Cassian out of the apartment for a bit, Nesta found it wasn’t nearly as difficult to keep her focus. She did her usual weekly cleaning, updated their grocery list, and started a load of laundry. By the time he made it back home, she’d done some yoga, showered, gotten dressed, and was in the middle of moving their laundry to the right place.

At the sound of Cassian’s keys opening the door, Nesta yelled her greeting from where she was bent over fishing clothes out of the washing machine so she could throw them into the dryer. “Hey baby!”

“Now that’s a sight for sore ears,” Cassian replied. She turned and rolled her eyes at the sight of him openly ogling her. “Don’t stop on my account, sweetheart.”

“There’s no more clothes to move,” she told him dryly. She tossed some dryer balls in with the wet clothes and started the drying cycle, already moving to fold the dry clothes from the first load that she’d tossed on their bed a few minutes prior. “How was the gym?”

“Good,” he answered, following her into the bedroom. “Sweaty. I’m gonna shower.”

“Have fun without me,” she told him with a smirk.

He winked at her before yanking his shirt over his head. “Oh, I intend to.”

Cassian’s shower didn’t even last ten minutes, so Nesta was still folding clothes when he emerged from the bathroom. She looked up from where she was folding one of his shirts and immediately did a double take when she realized he was completely naked, his usual oversized towel nowhere to be seen, and she swallowed thickly at the sight of him still glistening from his shower.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Nesta asked, trying and failing to keep her eyes on something appropriate.

“My favorite towel is in the hamper,” Cassian answered with a smirk. It only grew as he watched her follow a droplet of water trailing down his abs and toward his rapidly hardening cock. “Not my fault, sweetheart.”

Damn. She hated that he wasn’t actually wrong, but she knew there were plenty of clean towels in their linen closet. “There’s still lots of towels in there, baby.”

“And use an inferior towel?” he replied with a heavy, put-upon sigh. “You know I have sensitive skin.”

“Yep,” she responded tightly. She couldn’t tell if she wanted to strangle him or sink to her knees and let the hard length of his cock in her throat strangle her instead, but she had to stay strong. “Which is why all our towels are Turkish cotton.”

“Hmm,” he said with false thoughtfulness. She nearly ripped through the lace underwear she was folding when he leaned against the doorframe and his cock shifted with the motion, leaking arousal and practically begging her to put her mouth on it. “You’re so good to me, Nes.”

That was playing dirty, and he knew it. Her body was practically conditioned to respond to his praise, her breath coming faster as she pressed her thighs together to try and ignore her arousal. It only got stronger as he took himself in hand, the obscene sounds of him stroking his hard cock threatening to break her like nothing had before.

“Fuck off,” Nesta eventually snapped, forcing herself to break out of her trance. She grabbed as many clothes as she could carry and practically ran into the closet to start putting them away, knowing if she didn’t leave now, Cassian would never stop bragging about how he’d won. Even through the door, she could hear the sound of his laughter.

But she wasn’t going down that easily.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

After Nesta got a chance to calm down — and finish putting away their laundry — the rest of their Saturday night went quietly enough. They ordered Indian for dinner and spent the night in front of their TV, catching up on Heartstopper while they munched on naan and butter chicken, and Cassian only tried to get a rise out of her once. He only pouted a little when it didn’t work, but that didn’t stop him from cuddling up to her as usual when it was time for bed.

In the end, it wasn’t the skimpy clothes or the innuendos or the sudden increase in bending over that did it. In fact, it happened when Nesta wasn’t even putting in any extra effort – which, in hindsight, she supposed was as wholesome as the two of them could get.

When Sunday morning rolled around, Nesta woke up before Cassian for once, and she quietly slipped out of bed to make herself some tea so she could curl up with her book for a little while. Maybe it was playing with fire to read such filthy material when she couldn’t put all that restless energy to good use, but she’d been so preoccupied with messing with her boyfriend that she was falling behind with her book club.

Once she had a steaming cup of Earl Grey ready, it was easy to get cozy and lose herself in the morning light and the sounds of her pages turning. She was so immersed in her book that she didn’t even notice that she was being watched for a solid couple of minutes, and once that awareness slowly trickled in, she looked up to see Cassian leaning against their bedroom doorframe watching her.

“Good morning,” Nesta said pleasantly, reaching for her cup of tea and taking a large sip. From the way he was looking at her, she had a good feeling about how this morning was going to go, but she had to let him come to that conclusion on his own. “What did you want to do for breakfast?”

Cassian crossed the room in a few long strides, his eyes dark and intent on her. “You.”

“Not on the menu,” she replied. She reached out with her foot and stopped him in his tracks, doing her best to keep her composure as he grabbed her ankle and started rubbing circles into her skin. “Did you need something, baby?”

“Please, Nesta,” Cassian said, his eyes a little wild. “I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

“Is that the best you can do?” Nesta said back, doing her best to seem unimpressed. She knew nothing drove him crazier than when she acted like this, so it was only a matter of time before he completely caved. “Pathetic.”

“Sweetheart, please,” he replied. He gently let go of her foot and sank to his knees in front of her, crawling the last bit of the way until his hands were resting on her thighs. “I am so, so, so, sorry.”

“And?” she prompted. She made sure to slide her bookmark into place before looking down her nose at him, setting her book on the nightstand and out of the way. “What are you sorry for?”

“For acting like you were the problem,” he answered in a rush, his words almost running together he was so eager to get them out. “When it was me who couldn’t handle it.”

She leaned forward and sank a hand into his hair, thoroughly enjoying the way his breath hitched at the movement. “So what does that make you?”

“…Very sorry?” he guessed hesitantly. God, she loved seeing him this way, all eager to please her and just desperate enough to do whatever she wanted. “Nesta, please . I need you.”

“Wrong answer,” Nesta said, pulling on the curls she had gathered between her fingers. “It makes you a needy little slut.”

Cassian inhaled sharply and tried to nod his agreement as best he could with her hand still pulling at his hair. “Yeah. Yes. Uh huh.”

“Why don’t we try that again, hmm?” she asked, though they both knew it wasn’t really a request. “What does that make you, Cassian?”

“A needy little slut,” he repeated quickly. He was breathing so quickly it was a miracle he was still able to talk. “Your needy little slut.”

“There’s a good boy,” she told him, deeply satisfied at the way his eyes nearly rolled back into his head at the words. “Why don’t you show me how good you are?”

“Anything,” he panted. “Anything you want.”

Nesta spread her legs and fixed him with an expectant look. “Do I have to spell it out for you, or are you smarter than you look?”

Cassian didn’t waste any time, thankfully understanding exactly what she was asking for. He reached for her pajama shorts and helped her wiggle out of them — and her underwear — before diving in with a vengeance. She dug her hands into his hair as he got to work, using the flat of his tongue just the way he knew she liked it and not wasting his time with too much foreplay.

Nesta moaned and leaned back against the couch, more than happy to relax and let him do all the work. She’d been so on edge that it only took a few minutes to push her over it. She came with a loud cry, arching her back and tightening her grip on his hair to get closer to his tongue. It had only been a few days since her last orgasm, but that was seemingly enough to make this one more intense than she was used to.

More intense than the usual intense, anyway.

“Bedroom,” she demanded once she’d caught her breath. “Now.”

Cassian nodded and scrambled to his feet, giving her a quick look at the way his hard cock was tenting the front of his pajama pants before practically sprinting to their room.

Nesta took her time even though her body was screaming for more. She knew the anticipation would drive him even more wild, so what was the rush? She made sure to put her mug in the sink and grab her clothes before she casually walked toward their bedroom.

“Take off your clothes and lay down on the bed,” Nesta ordered after she’d stepped into the room. “Face up.”

“Okay,” Cassian agreed. He whipped off his pajamas and underwear, throwing himself onto the bed so fast it was a miracle nothing broke under him. “I’m ready.”

“Mhmm.” She pulled off her shirt and tossed her clothes toward the hamper, eyeing his hard cock with disdain as she walked toward the bed. “I can see that.”

The meaner she was to him, the more it turned him on. He was hard enough to pound nails, and while she normally might’ve savored the feeling of it in her mouth, she wasn’t feeling particularly generous right now. Instead of lowering her mouth, she got on the bed and straddled him, his hands automatically settling on her hips to keep her steady.

“You’re not coming until I say so,” Nesta said, slowly grinding against Cassian’s hard cock just to tease him. “You understand?”

“Y-yeah,” Cassian said back. They’d played this game before, and they both knew she’d stop if and when he said the word. “I understand.”

“Good,” she replied. She didn’t give him any warning before lifting up, grabbing his cock, and sinking down onto it in one long slide. “Fuck, I missed this.”

The sound of his whimper was like music to her ears. “God, Nesta—”

“You almost got me yesterday,” she admitted as she slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. She couldn’t believe she’d gone days without him stretching her out like this. “Walking around with your dick out like — fuck, yes, that’s it — like a fucking whore.”

“Couldn’t help it,” he panted. He bucked his hips up to meet her thrust for thrust and they both groaned. “Needed you so bad.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been so goddamn stupid,” she retorted, starting to speed up now. “But maybe you just like being stupid.”

“I’m an idiot,” he agreed. He groaned after a particularly well-timed thrust and his grip got that much tighter on her hips. “A needy idiot.”

Their pace sped up even more after that, Nesta leaning all the way forward so Cassian could get his knees under her and thrust upwards in earnest. She couldn’t help but kiss him then, moaning into his mouth as he really let her have it, their headboard slamming into the wall over and over again with every thrust.

“Jesus, you feel so good,” Cassian moaned, shifting his grip so he could grab her ass and thrust that much harder and faster. “So fucking perfect.”

“You close?” Nesta asked. At his frantic nod, she pulled all the way off his cock so she could reach down and squeeze the base of it tightly.

He hissed loudly. “ Ah — fuck, Nesta!”

“Just making sure you keep your promise,” she told him. When he’d calmed down enough, she let go and gave him a mean smirk. “Thanks for telling me, baby.”

“You’re trying to kill me,” he groaned.

“I told you I’d be mean about it,” she replied sweetly, “so I don’t know why you’re surprised about that now.”

“I didn’t think you actually meant it,” he responded, only a little exasperated.

“If only I cared what you thought,” she fired back. “Fuck toys don’t get to have opinions.”

Sitting as close as they were, Nesta could feel the moment Cassian’s cock twitched at the words. “You like that, hmm?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Love it.”

“Maybe next time I’ll gag you,” Nesta mused aloud, shifting to sit next to him so she could take his cock in her hand. “Then you really wouldn’t get to have any opinions.”

“Oh, shit,” Cassian gasped. His gaze flicked back and forth between her face and her hand stroking his cock, like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to look at more. “Nesta, please .”

“Maybe I’ll tie you up, too,” she continued, tightening her grip on him almost to the point of pain. He moaned and thrusted up into her hand, arousal leaking steadily from the tip and showing her just how much he liked this. “Use you like my personal dildo.”

At his full-body shiver, she let go of him completely and laughed at his look of utter betrayal. “What are we, fourteen? You’re not coming in my hand.”

“Of course not,” he answered through gritted teeth. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, only opening them when he could handle looking at her again. “Now what?”

Nesta chose to take pity on him and ignore his mouthiness. “Come here.”

Cassian sat up and let her tug him on top of her, settling between her legs where he belonged. Nesta reached down and guided his cock between her legs, both of them moaning when he thrusted inside her, and it didn’t take long before they were going at it like rabbits. It was all she could do to dig her nails into his back, wrap her legs around his waist, and hold on for dear life.

God. How had she survived going without this for so long?

“Nesta, I’m so close,” Cassian panted into her ear. He pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses to her jaw and her neck that made her run even hotter than she already was. “Please, please— ”

“You can come whenever you need to,” Nesta finally told him. She figured she’d dangled his orgasm in front of him for long enough. “You earned it.”

The words had barely left her mouth before Cassian was coming. He slammed into her one last time and stayed deep, his entire body trembling from the force of his orgasm as he moaned her name and rode it out.

“Fuck, that was good,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re so good to me.”

After they’d both caught their breath, Nesta found herself lying half on top of Cassian while he gently ran his fingers across her freckled shoulders. Their sheets were a mess and they both needed to shower, but she wasn’t going to move for anything. Now that she wasn’t practically vibrating out of her skin with how badly she wanted him, being in his arms was far more comforting than it had been compared to the last few days.

“So maybe we do need it,” Cassian eventually said.

Nesta just dug her face more aggressively into his chest, intent on enjoying her sleepy afterglow for as long as possible. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, next time it’ll be two weeks.”

“Shutting up now,” he replied, pulling a huff of laughter from her. He’d admitted how wrong he was many, many times already, so she didn’t even bother correcting him; they both knew how right she’d been. “I was an idiot. Let’s never do this again.”

“Best idea you’ve had all day,” she mumbled.

He laughed softly. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too,” she answered automatically. “But I really do need you to stop talking. That was exhausting and I need to nap.”

“Okay,” he agreed, leaning down to press a kiss into her hair. “But after we nap, how do you feel about round two?”

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

Text

Better or Worse {20}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: I apologize for the long wait! Life got busy and we have a few other things we've been working on. Nonetheless, here is the final chapter! We hope you enjoyed this story and thank you for reading it, each week, and giving us such sweet comments, likes, and reblogs. The epilogue will be posted soon. x

~ Cass ~

Nesta was beautiful.

I spent the entire morning getting ready, so excited that I was making myself nauseous. I’ve never been one for waiting. Patience and I are mortal enemies. It was well worth it, though, the second that I saw my wife. She walked towards me with a bouquet of lilies, smiling brightly, and I could hardly contain myself.

And her dress.

The dress that Nesta chose for this perfect day was a garment made by the gods. Made nearly entirely of lace and covered in intricate beading, parts of it are damn near painted on. It perfectly magnifies her breasts and her ass, and although it’s not gentlemanly to focus on those two things, I don’t give a fuck. I can’t stop staring at either and I know damn well that that was Nesta’s intention.

After I got past the dress and was able to think clearly, I delivered the most heartfelt vows I could possibly come up with. I’ve spent the last month working on them and had Azriel, Rhys, and both of my sister-in-laws proofread them. Nesta is obviously a fantastic writer and I was nervous that they wouldn’t live up to her level of perfection, but by the time I was done reading them, she was crying.

She kissed me right then and there, before she had even read her vows, not caring that we were surrounded by all of our friends and family and coworkers. It was a hell of a kiss, too. Her tongue met mine and it took every ounce of self control not to sweep her into my arms and carry her into a closed space.

Especially in that dress.

I’m watching her now, dancing with her sisters with a drink in her hand. I can’t take my eyes off of her, I haven’t been able to since the moment she came into view a few hours ago. She’s been my wife for ten years and I can’t believe it. I’m so in love with her, more in love with her every day.

My feet are moving before my mind catches up with me. I’m close enough to touch her before she turns around and jumps, apparently not expecting me to sneak up on her. Or, judging by the slight glaze of her eyes, she’s just a little tipsy.

“Hi,” I say, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her close to me. ”Can we go now?”

She throws her head back and laughs which is one of the most beautiful sights known to man. “No. We just got here. Besides, we haven’t had dessert yet, and we all know that’s the best part.”

I cock a brow. “I think dinner is the best part, but I see the appeal.”

“Spoken like a chef,” she says, finishing off her drink and running her arms around my neck.

I’ve never been one to make dessert. It’s not my strength, at all, but damn it, I can cook a hell of a meal.

“I think he’s enjoying himself, don’t you?”

I follow Nesta’s line of sight and snort. Eris is standing by the bar, drink in hand, scowling at the bartender as he flirts with one of my coworkers further down the line. “To be honest, I’m surprised you wanted to invite him.”

Nesta shrugs. “We’ve been trying to get along better lately.”

“And how’s that going?”

She rolls her eyes. “About as you’d expect it to. Come on. Dance with me.”

I can’t say no to that. We make our way to the middle of the dance floor just as a slow song begins. Without any hesitation, I pull Nesta into my arms and begin swaying to the beat.

Suddenly, it’s just the two of us. No one else matters, no one else exists. We are in our own little world, just as we were on the dancefloor ten years ago, just like we are whenever we are alone, as one.

As she rests her head on my chest, I take a deep breath and think about everything we’ve been through, the highs and the lows, about how far we’ve come in a year. A year ago, our marriage was in shambles. Nesta was hurting in ways I couldn’t imagine, and while my heart was broken, too, we both let ourselves fall into our own brands of darkness. I wasn’t sure we would be able to pull out of it.

But here we are.

Here we are and I have never been so in love with my wife.

Lifting her head, Nesta gazes up at me. Her eyes are filled with tears, but they have been all day, so I don’t think anything of it until she says, “So I got a phone call earlier today.”

My eyebrows raise. “About?”

Gnawing on her lip, I can see she’s about to burst with the news. Whatever it is, the fact that she’s kept it from me until now is impressive. And when she speaks, my heart stops.

“About a possible placement coming up in a couple months.”

We stop swaying. We stop moving and I stare at her. “A couple of months?”

Nodding, she’s unable to stop the tears from finally spilling over. “There’s a young mother who just entered the program. She’s six months pregnant and wants her baby to have the best life possible, but knows that isn’t possible for her right now. We’re going to meet her next week.”

I’m speechless.

I’m rarely speechless, but right now, I have no words. I can’t stop staring at Nesta, with my mouth hanging open, as tears of joy run down her cheeks. She laughs, quietly, and cups my face in her hands.

“Next week?” I ask, at last, and it’s nothing more than a whisper.

She nods, and her smile is so pure that it makes me weak. “Wednesday, ten o’clock.”

“Wednesday,” I repeat, and swallow hard. I have so many emotions running through my body that I can’t contain, that can’t be deciphered, so all I let out is an eloquent, “Holy fuck.”

Nesta laughs as she nods once more, and then she’s kissing me. I take her into my arms and spin her around, not caring who sees. This is our night, and I don’t give a damn that anyone is watching.

By Wednesday, we may be on the right track to having what we’ve wanted for so long. A baby. A family. The thought alone has me feeling more joy than I ever thought imaginable. Just when I think the night can’t get any better, it does.

When I let her feet touch the floor, I pull back to look at her and the smile on her face is breathtaking. She’s so damn beautiful and for a second, I can’t believe she’s mine. I don’t realize that I’m crying until she reaches up to wipe the tears from my face. She whispers, “I love you so much.”

There’s no hesitation in my answer. “I love you more.”

With a roll of her eyes, Nesta is rising up on her toes and pressing another kiss to my lips. “I haven’t even told my sisters. I told them the phone call was a business call.”

“We can wait,” I promise her. “Wait until we see where this goes. That way we don’t get anyone’s hopes up.” What I don’t have to mention is that I don’t just mean our family’s. I also mean our own. “Now come on,” I say, stepping back after I kiss her one last time. “Let’s go smash cake onto each other’s faces.”

We do just that and the rest of the night goes on with the same joy and celebration that has been present all day. After I shove cake into Nesta’s mouth, and all up the side of her face, we eat and drink and dance the night away. By the time midnight rolls around, Rhysand and Azriel are plastered and dancing with one another in the middle of a vacant dancefloor. Our guests have begun to leave and now very few of us remain.

I sit between Elain and Feyre, finishing what’s left in our glasses, watching the two fools sway and sing obnoxiously for all to see.

“I can’t believe I’m in love with that man,” Feyre mutters, although her voice is full of admiration.

“I can’t believe we procreated with them,” Elain adds.

I laugh, shaking my head. If I wasn’t so damn tired, I’d probably be out there with them, but I am. It was a long day, and I’m still not completely recovered from my drinking binge last night. It was all worth it, though. Every bit of it has been worth it.

My eyes wander over to Nesta, who is saying goodbye to some of our guests. All I’ve wanted since the moment I saw her earlier today was to take her away and have her all to myself. I’m tempted to drown myself in coffee so I have enough energy to do just that, now that it’s almost time to go home.

Before I get the chance, Nesta turns and catches me staring. With one look at her raised eyebrow, I’m on my feet, crossing the room and wrapping her up in my arms. “Ready to go?”

Chucking, she asks, “How many more times are you going to ask me that?” Rising up on her toes, she leans up to kiss me.

I meet her halfway and answer with my lips still on hers. “Until you relent and let me take you home so I can ravish you.”

The way her eyes roll tells me that was exactly the answer she was expecting, but she says, “Let me say goodbye to my sisters and grab my stuff.”

“I’ll do the same.” She steps back, but I’ve got a hold of her hand. Bringing it to my lips, I press a kiss to the new band sitting alongside her original wedding set. “I love you.”

Her eyes soften and she pulls back into my body. “I love you more.”

I kiss her again, slowly, and she sinks into it. Before I can get too carried away, though, I break it off and step back with a groan. “Grab your shit. Quickly.”

She grins and her eyes light up, even as she rolls them. I force my own feet to go back to the dressing room and start throwing my stuff into my duffel bag. The door opens and closes behind me and I know it’s my brothers before I even turn to see them, practically carrying one another into the room.

“Cassssssss,” Rhysand grins, and throws himself into my arms, followed by Azriel. For a moment, we just stand there, drunkenly embracing, but then they pull back and Rhysand claps me on the shoulder. “We love you. We’re happy for you. We’re proud of you.”

He hiccups halfway through the word proud and there’s a good chance neither of them will remember this in the morning, but I have no doubt that he means every word.

And it means everything to me.

I drag them back into the reception hall with me, thinking they’d lose their way if I didn’t, and once they’re safely delivered to their wives, I find mine.

We didn’t announce that we were leaving. There were no sentimental parents waiting to see us off. Hell, we aren’t even taking a honeymoon, just taking two days off to fuck like animals at home and then get back to real life. So we don’t tell anyone as we meet in the front room and I take her bag, carrying it to the truck as we walk hand in hand. I chuck our bags in the back then make a dramatic show of opening the passenger door, before scooping her up and setting her in seat. She’s laughing by the end of it, so no matter how stupid I may look, it’s worth it. I hop in the front seat, the engine roars to life, and we’re out of there.

We’re passing through the main square when Nesta gasps. “You know what sounds so good, Cass? Fried pickles, we should stop at the diner and pick some up.”

It’s a damn good thing I know this town like the back of my hand because I’m staring at my wife, despite needing to have my eyes on the road. Blinking, I look forward. “We’re on the way home from our renewal—”

“And I want some fried pickles,” she interrupts, turning in her seat to face me. Her dress is a cloud of fabric on the floorboard, more dress than there is room at her feet.

“You know, I can make you—”

“No, no,” she begins, fully knowing that she has me wrapped around her finger and I’m going to do whatever she asks, despite my protests. “Fried pickles from the diner.”

I blink. “It’s almost one—”

“The diner is open twenty four hours, lucky us.”

With a reluctant sigh, and a laugh I can’t help, I turn right at the next set of lights and less than five minutes later, we’re walking into the diner. Every person in here — and there’s not many — looks at us in surprise and I suddenly feel on full display.

And I also don’t love how the guy behind the counter is staring at my wife.

We’re seated instead of getting takeout, although Nesta orders one basket of fried pickles for now and the other to go. Seeing how I’m apparently going to be up all night, I order a coffee and a breakfast special that consists of pancakes, bacon, and eggs, and we eat our strange middle of the night meal, sitting on the same side of the booth.

By the time I’m full, all of my plates cleaned, Nesta is still munching on her fried pickles. She’s asked for more ranch twice, and completely drained them all, licking her fingers absentmindedly like she’s not wearing a stunning, expensive wedding gown.

They give us our meal for free, as a wedding present.

By the time we’re home, it’s three-thirty and her eyelids are heavy in the passenger seat, where she holds my hand while I pull into the driveway. I, however, am wide awake, thanks to my coffee refills while I waited for her to finish her basket of grease.

After cutting the engine, I round the truck and open her door. Her head lulls in my direction and she smiles at me, sleepily. “Is there when you carry me across the threshold?”

I do. I lift her up, cradle her in my arms and carry her through the garage door, into the kitchen where Greg is sprawled out on the table, snoring softly.

After kicking the door shut, I keep carrying her upstairs, through the dark, silent house. Our house, our home that’s full of love and will hopefully, one day, be filled with children.

Maybe even one day soon.

In our bedroom, I set her down and start unbuttoning the back of her dress.

There are a lot of fucking buttons.

She chuckles quietly as I work and when the band of her ivory lace thong she’s adorned starts to show, my fingers are nearly sore and I stop, muttering, “Surely you can get out of it without me doing the rest, damn.”

“You weren’t having fun?” she asks, humored, as she lets the dress fall down to a pool around her feet.

“Who puts that many buttons on a dress? How long did it take you to get into that damn thing?”

She turns to me slowly and my eyes drift to her full breasts, bare and on display for me, nipples peaked. “I thought you liked the dress.”

“I loved the dress,” I say, and I did, even if I spent most the night dreaming of getting her out of it.

She stifles a yawn as she steps toward me and lays her hands against my chest. “There was a promise of you ravishing me once we got home, if I remember correctly.”

I huff a laugh and pull her waist closer towards me. “It can wait until tomorrow. You’re tired.”

She groans and runs her hands up my shoulders, her fingers into my hair. “I don’t think so.”

My grin barely has time to widen before her mouth is on mine, hungrily, and I’m carrying her to bed. My clothes end up in a heap by her dress and we make love, slowly, then we fuck like animals like we’ve done a million times before. It’s full of passion, longing, lust and love, wholly reverent. It’s two souls connecting, reminding each other of our past and promising each other our futures.

We have risen from the ashes. We’ve taken what was ruined, shattered, and made it whole once again. We fixed what was broken and made it stronger than it was before.

We lay awake, staring at one another in the quiet of the early morning, tangled in bare limbs. Her hair is a mess, her makeup is smudged, but I made true on my promise to ravish. She’s beautiful. She’s perfect, my wife, who is a mess of a woman. She feels more than anyone else feels, loves more powerfully because she gives that love away so rarely, keeps that love for so few. She is full of grief and trauma, and some days, self-loathing. But she is healing, has healed, has helped me heal, both alone and alongside her. Some days she makes me so angry that I want to rip off my face and throw it at her, but then she makes me so enraptured by love and adoration that I can’t even think straight.

There is no other woman for me. She is it, my one and only, the other half of my very being, this woman that I married at nineteen.

My soulmate.

My wife.

The mother of any children we may be blessed to have, biologically or not.

And I am really fucking lucky.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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I absolutely LOVED your nessian hockey player x figure skater fic! (concerned, emotionally closed off Nesta is so adorable) You're a v talented writer and I would legit read any nessian modern au you write even if it's just about them watching paint dry. also i think itd be cool if u wrote another fic like this, except this time, nesta eats ice and gives cassian a scare.

Oh my gosh! You are too sweet. Thank you so much! I promise to not actually write a watching paint dry fic. But I hope you enjoy! :)

Part One // Part Two

When Cassian steps through the doors of the rink, the place is bustling. There are little kids, all decked out in brightly colored and sparkling outfits, giggling as they run across the lobby. Parents are chatting away, to-go cups of hot drinks perched in their hands. Coaches in windbreakers are walking through stretches and pointers before the competition starts. He takes one the programs held out to him by the smiling girl at the door, making his way further inside.

Luckily, a quick glance around and Cassian finds who he’s looking for. Rhys is standing with his arm draped across Feyre’s shoulders who’s speaking animatedly with Elain. He joins them with a smile, and they chat about their respective weeks for a little bit before everyone begins to move into the actual rink. Once in the rink, they settle in on the bleachers, and soon the competition on the ice is in full swing.

They watch the different skaters take to the ice, various versions of lilting music filling the rink up to the rafters with its tinkling tones as skater after skater flows and glides through their routine. Half a dozen skaters have taken their turn at the ice when Cassian spots a familiar head of golden brown hair. His smile grows wide, tugging easily across his face, as he watches her approach the doors to the ice, sliding off her skate guards.

“Whoo! Nesta! Let’s go!” Cassian cheers, hopping to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. He can feel the eyes of the rest of the crowd on him, but he doesn’t care.

“You know this isn’t a hockey game, right?” Rhys quips from his right.

“Fuck off,” Cassian shoots back before turning to watch Nesta skate out onto the ice. “You got this, Nes! You’re going to kill it! Let’s go!”

Nesta’s eyes snap to Cassian’s as she slides into position at center ice, her face a mask of indifference. But even from this distance, Cassian doesn’t miss the slight uptick to the corner of her lips. He’s seen the look a number of times, especially directed at him. The feigned annoyance when he knows deep down she loves it. So Cassian just blows her a kiss.

“Do you mind?” a voice cuts in from behind Cassian. When Cassian turns around, he finds a man staring up at him with an annoyed expression.

“That’s my girlfriend.”

“Good for you.”

“Just sit down, Cassian,” Elain says from Cassian’s left, gently tugging on his arm.

Cassian grumbles but listens, taking his seat just as the music starts and Nesta begins her routine. He watches with rapt awe as Nesta moves through her twists and jumps, arms and body moving in time with the music as she cuts across the ice. Cassian had watched Nesta practice and perfect this routine, offering supportive applause for each jump she landed and break time kisses, so he knows her big triple flip is coming up. He watches her shift her weight to her inside edge, toe pick digging into the ice for a second before she launches into the air.

As Nesta’s body continues to twist, Cassian can tell that something’s off, something isn’t right. His heart catches in his chest as watches Nesta land the jump awkwardly, her ankle twisting before she spills onto the ice. Cassian’s on his feet in an instant, and it takes all his willpower and clenching his fists to ground him to stop Cassian from rushing down to Nesta’s side. Time seems to stand still, every second ticking by too slowly and Cassian’s breathing too loud in his ears, as he watches, waiting for Nesta to get up.

Slowly, Nesta pushes up and back onto her feet. Cassian watches the wince that mars her face as she puts weight on her left foot, carefully making her way off the ice. Without thinking twice, Cassian is squeezing past those seated around him, quick steps carrying him toward the locker rooms. He realizes belatedly that he doesn’t actually know where he’s going, so he just paces up and down the hall. He clenches and unclenches his fists, rakes his fingers nervously through his hair. Eventually, he shoves his hands deep in his pockets, leaning against the wall with a sigh.

When Nesta hobbles out of one of the locker rooms on crutches and takes in Cassian waiting for her, she rolls her eyes. But she can’t hide the fondness buried in those smokey grey irises. It makes Cassian’s heart squeeze adoringly.

“It’s just a sprain,” Nesta explains. “The worst part is going to be not being able to skate for a few weeks.”

“Good thing you have an amazing boyfriend to help you during those healing weeks,” Cassian says, carefully tugging the crutches out from under Nesta’s arms. He sets them against the wall before scooping an arm under the Nesta’s legs and lifting her up bridal style.

“Put me down, you brute,” Nesta protests, swatting a hand against Cassian’s chest. “I told you it was just a sprain, and I can walk just fine with the crutches.”

“I don’t care. We’re going to go back to my dorm, and you get anything you want until you’re all better.”

“What if I want to watch really bad and cheesy romance movies?”

“Done.”

“What if I want to order in food that’s really bad for us? And extra chocolate cake?”

Cassian grimaces slightly at the suggestion, but he smiles anyways. “Also done.”

Nesta narrows her eyes on him, humming as if she’s mulling over the information. After a moment, she wraps her arms securely around Cassian’s neck, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. When she pulls away, her lips are slanted into a smirk.

“Maybe I should get injured more often.”

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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Fire and Ice Day for @nessianweek Yes, I just wanted an excuse to write more hockey player Cassian. No, I will not be taking criticisms at this time. Follow up to this drabble. Hope you enjoy! :)

Nesta steps out of the English building, taking in a deep breath of the crisp, winter air. The lecture hall had been stifling, and the way Professor Matthews had droned on and on about Chekhov had her desperate for the class to end. She cuts across the Commons, heading toward the library, when she hears heavy footsteps fall in beside her. She doesn’t need to look to know who they belong to.

“So about that dinner,” Cassian starts.

“I don’t actually recall agreeing to it."

"Well, how else am I supposed to thank you for being there in my time of concussion need?"

"You don’t need to thank me. Maybe I was just hoping to see if a good thwack to your head would finally fix it. Clearly, it didn’t."

"Sadly, all it did was make my two working brain cells become just one,” Cassian says, putting on his best solemn tone.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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

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

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

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

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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Maybe a Nessian Family prompt?!

I imagine Nessian’s daughter as stubborn as her parents. Like one time during a heated battle, their eldest daughter literally flew in front of Nesta ,in which she has gotten a cut and a scar, to protect her Mom from the creature which was about to attack her.

Nesta was livid. after they have won the battle, she went straight to her daughter, and scolded her infront of eveyone like “You will not do that again. You, or any of our children, will NOT die from saving us, (your parents)! You hear me?!” Their daughter can’t understand why Nesta was angry, like she saved her right?! 😂 And much to everyone’s shock, Nessian daughter had the guts to say “No. I won’t just stand,look and do nothing and let you get hurt when I know I can do something about it!” Like they were literally nose to nose. And Cassian don’t know if he should be proud or mad at his daughter 😅 Eventually Cassian pulled her mate away, while Nessian daughter was pulled by her younger siblings (all girls of course) 😎

When they got home though, there’s a sweet moment when the eldest approached her Mom, give her a hug and apologize. And Nesta making her understand that she can’t lose any of them. She’s not angry, she was scared, so scared. 🥺 And yeah, they just cuddled until morning, with the other daughters. Cass taking the sofa by the living room 😳

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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Nessian Small Story :D

I'm so sorry I haven't updated any of my larger fics - unfortunately my writing posts this summer will be very few, but they should start back up in the fall!

This is super short, but I wanted to get something out before the beach <33

Warnings: References

Word Count: 522

Tag List <33: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, @autumnbabylon, @luell1q

If there was one thing Nesta Archeron liked, it was a club. And here she was, occupying the Red Devil, the latest sleazy destination to open in Velaris. She sat at the bar sipping on some alcoholic drink. It’d been a rough day at work and she was tired. Her gray eyes scouted the noisy, hot, crowded room for a handsome body that would keep her at bay until dawn. She’d found men to be comforting at her lowest points.

But just as she found her target, a familiar smell filled her nose. She stiffened, took a deep breath, and then turned to find her mortal enemy and total crush, Cassian, grinning at her from across the bar. As their eyes met, he picked up his drink - a beer - and walked over to her, plopping in the seat next to her.

“Why, hello there Nesta,” he grinned, his dark eyes unabashedly scouring her body. She tried not to flush as his gaze tracked the little black dress clinging to her, showing off her curves. Nevermind she’d worn this last night, and the night before. He wouldn’t know that.

“Cassian,” she replied coldly. “Eyes up here, please.” His gaze snapped back up to hers and he even looked a little ashamed - never mind that she’d enjoyed it. “What are you doing here?”

A muscle worked in his jaw, his eyes moving up to the ceiling. “Trouble at work, I suppose.”

Nesta cocked her head. Cassian was a general in the military who was currently on leave. “And what might that mean?”

“My leave won’t last as long as I thought.” Without warning, her stomach dropped. “I’m back on duty in about two months.”

She took a deep breath, fighting down the nausea threatening to rise. “Hmm,” was all she managed.

Cassian snorted. “Sounds about right. Hmm.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, sipping on their drinks. Nesta’s hands curled in her lap. She absolutely hated having Cassian in the same city as her, but….she also hated the constant, sickening terror she felt when he was away fighting. She debated asking him to stay but….no. He’d just laugh - plus, she was sure her sister and brother-in-law had already tried. Cassian was too brave.

“So…yeah, I kind of just wanted to get wasted.” Cassian looked at her, a sad expression on his face that she desperately wanted to go away. “Is that bad?”

Her heart crumpled for him. “Of course not,” she said emphatically. “I do that every night.”

He smiled faintly, but his eyes were still filled with despair. The alcohol had finally caught up to her, and a stupid idea came through her brain fog. A thing that had once always made her happy. “Cassian - would you dance with me?”

Nesta woke up with a raging hangover and no memory of the previous night. She stretched and groaned, without opening her eyes, breathing in-

She froze. She recognized that scent. Oh Gods, please no. Nesta slowly turned her head and cursed as she found a completely naked Cassian dead asleep next to her. I will never drink again.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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If the fic request are still going I'm sending two feel free to pick. One bed Tamcien or runaway bride Neris. Need the otps being cute

I did Neris, and WOW IT WAS FUN!!! Beware, lots of bat boy bashing ahead!

Stupid. Stupid. You’re a stupid idiot. Nesta berated herself. Her hand was clutched around her third glass of beer. She was pointedly ignoring the fact that everybody was staring at her. Even in this random dive bar in Velaris, everybody recognized Nesta Archeron, Lady Death, sister of the Cursebreaker.

It certainly didn’t help that she was in an elaborate wedding dress with a train that dragged halfway to the door.

She was so fucking stupid. She had known that she didn’t want to marry Cassian. Not now, not ever. The crumbs of kindness he gave her did nothing to fill the empty well of loneliness that was her heart. Did nothing to make up for the fact that he put Rhysand and Azriel and Feyre and fucking Morrigan before her, every time. The sex had been good enough to trick herself into thinking that she could eventually love him. Or that she could make him love her.

It hadn’t been until her own wedding, standing at the back of the aisle, that she had come to accept the truth. She saw Cassian at the end, smug and dominant, his gaze licking lecherously up and down her body. She saw Rhysand and Feyre, Azriel and Elain, also waiting to greet her. The sisters she once would have given her life for, reshaped into shadows of their former selves by their arrogant husbands. That was her future, she realized then and only then. The only way for Cassian to love her would be to destroy herself until she was nothing but a docile pet.

She ran.

Now she sat in a bar, drinking herself into oblivion. She finished her beer and gestured for another one. The bartender frowned, holding out a hand for payment. She hadn’t paid for anything yet, and he was concerned she was going to run out on the tab. Without a second thought, she plucked the comically large diamond ring from her left hand and dropped it on the counter. A new drink appeared in front of her between one blink and the next.

“I told you that you were wasted at the Night Court.” A clear voice spoke from her left. Nesta didn’t have to move her head an inch to know that it was Eris.

“Congratulations, you were right,” she spat with no real venom. The years of self-delusion weighed on her.

The scrape of the barstool against the floor and a whiff of cologne told Nesta that Eris had pulled up a seat next to her. He smelled nice, she thought dispassionately. Like jasmine, and coffee beans. She waited for the taunts and jeers, for his slick tongue to remind her of how foolish she had been.

“I should kill him.”

“What?” Nesta looked over, and to her surprise Eris wasn’t languidly leaning on the bartop, smirking. His shoulders were hunched, his entire body tense. Without needing to be asked, the bartender slid a shot of a bright green liquid to him. The scent of it was enough to make Nesta’s eyes water, but Eris swallowed the whole thing without a grimace.

“I should kill him. For what he’s done to you.”

“What are you even doing here?” His words made no sense. Nobody was ever punished for what they did to her.

“I was at the wedding.” At Nesta’s shocked expression, his mouth curled up into a grin. “You didn’t know?”

“No.”

Eris shrugged. “I’m guessing Rhysand wanted me there as a political maneuver. Or Cassian wanted me there to gloat.”

“So why did you come?”

“To see if you were really stupid enough to marry him.”

“I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.” Nesta stood up to leave, but Eris stopped her. If he had grabbed her forearm, the way that Cassian always did, she would have shaken him off. But his hand wrapped around her fingers, holding them just tight enough for her to sense his urgency, but not so tight she couldn’t pull herself away.

“You deserve better than him. Not because of his heritage, but because he’s a brute who needed to control you. He wanted you to be his, when any male with half a brain would be bowing at your feet in gratitude to be considered yours.”

Nesta could only stare in shocked silence. The way that Eris fumbled his words betrayed that speaking like this was new to him. Embarrassed, he let go of her hand. “Anyway…I’ll leave you to your newly single life.”

“Wait!” This time it was Nesta who stopped him. He turned back, some unnamed emotion that might have been hope glimmering in his eyes. “Can you stay? Drinking alone is bad enough. Drinking alone in a wedding dress is worse.”

“Yes.” He sat back down, close enough that Nesta could feel the heat of his body through the satin gown. “I’ll stay.”

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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It's WIP Wednesdayyy!

Here's some protective B&BT Cassian going feral to defend his girl ☺️

Cassian snarled— and there he was, her fearsome general, the man who had ended lives with his bare hands, staring down a queen like he’d love nothing more than to feel her blood dripping through his fingers. He angled himself in front of Nesta, using an arm to push her behind him. Nesta scowled, and peering around the edge of his wing she saw the eldest queen snarl, saw the golden one raise an eyebrow, and saw Feyre turn her eyes to Rhysand in barely disguised shock. But if Cassian noticed - if he cared - he gave no indication. “She has more of a right than any to be here,” he said darkly, his voice a low, menacing thrum, every word clipped. “This is her father’s house, and she has risked far more for this war than you.” Nesta took a step to the side, rounding his wings in order to see his face, but Cassian didn’t look at her. He only glared at the queens, coldly furious, and Nesta had never seen him so incensed. Fury burned behind those eyes, and it was as though she could hear his heartbeat hammering, as though she felt every single pulse of his anger. “You’ll speak to her with the respect she deserves, or you won’t speak at all.”

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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happy b-day to me. no tag list.

based on this prompt–right about 1k words

warnings: none!

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

All About Family

Nesta stared at her brother-in-law, arms crossed over her chest. It was a stance she usually took around him despite nearly fifteen years of knowing him. Defensive, unimpressed, and mildly annoyed. A large part of her wanted to slam her front door in his face.

The man in question did at least look somewhat chastised. He had a small bouquet of roses in one hand and a determined Nyx at his side.

“Yes?” She asked stiffly. One of her eyebrows raised in its signature disapproving glare.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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Better or Worse {19}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Two more chapters! Thank you all for sticking along for the journey. Enjoy!

The weeks have passed by quickly and in less than twenty four hours I’ll be standing at the altar with my husband, renewing our vows.

Throwing a ceremony together so quickly has been exhausting, especially considering my book released last week, but I’ve actually enjoyed the chaos. My sisters have helped tremendously, even in the moments that I’ve insisted that I didn’t need their help. Nonetheless, tomorrow's success will go to them. We’ve all worked hard as hell, which is why the three of us are currently dressed in our finest and sitting on the rooftop of one of Velaris’ most prestigious restaurants.

While Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand are surely at some shithole bar, the three of us decided on a little class in celebration of tomorrow.

As the server fills our glasses and leaves the remainder of the bottle of wine in an ice-filled chiller, Feyre raises her glass in a salute. “I know toasts usually come at the end of the night, but we’ve never been the most conventional bunch. Nes, you and Cassian have been the pillar of strength for our group for so long. When shit gets hard, the two of you are the ones to step up and handle it. Your marriage is no different. Things may have gotten rough for a bit—” I roll my eyes at her understatement, but can’t pull the smile from my lips if I try. “But you didn’t let that break the two of you, you didn’t let that tear you apart like so many others would have. You never gave up on your love, on each other, and I’m so glad we get to celebrate that tomorrow.”

I clear my throat to push away the flood of emotion and we clink our glasses together. “Thank you. But the real toast should be for the two of you because if I had to plan this damn thing alone, I would have died.”

They laugh but it’s no joke.

I think it may have killed me.

Although tonight is supposed to be all fun and games, we go over our checklist one last time. We’ll have to get to the venue early tomorrow and finish decorating, but it shouldn’t be too bad.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” I ask, fiddling with the stem of my wine glass. “I mean, we’re already married, but this feels different.”

“I don’t think it's weird,” Elain says, cheeks already pink from the wine. “I think it’s nice. It just means that it means a lot to you.”

“I bet Cass is just as nervous,” Feyre says, chiming in. “And just wait until he sees you in your dress. I’ve never seen anything so sexy and elegant in my life.”

I grin. I’d be lying if I said that I haven’t been dreaming about Cassian's reaction when he sees the dress I bought. “Having to make it through the entire ceremony and reception is going to be torture for him, and I can’t wait.”

“Sadist,” Feyre mumbles, and Elain chokes on her last drop of wine.

She’s not wrong. The sheath of lace fits me like a second skin, the only ornamentation the occasional pattern of intricate beading and the sweetheart neckline dips just low enough to be alluring without being obscene. The lingerie I’ll be wearing beneath it is another story entirely.

Reaching for the bottle, I refill each of our glasses, setting it down at the edge of the table when it’s empty. “Listen, if he isn’t feral by the time we get home, something has gone horribly wrong.”

Home, because we aren’t going on a second honeymoon. We aren’t taking a trip or going anywhere, that’s not what this renewal was about. Sure, we’re having the ceremony and the party afterwards, but it’s to celebrate us.

Home, because there’s nowhere else we’d rather go and no one else we’d rather be with.

The food is earth shattering. By the time we’re done eating, I’m so full that I can hardly move. Cassian will be jealous that I ate so luxuriously without him, but it was too delicious for me to care. I feel a slight buzz from the wine, but nothing too daunting. I feel carefree and completely excited.

With our empty plates in front of us, Elain asks, “Any news on the adoption front? You haven’t mentioned it in a couple of weeks.”

“We have a meeting with an agency set up for next week, actually,” I say, almost hesitantly, which earns two sets of worried glances in my direction. I shake my head. “I just kinda wanted to see how it went before mentioning it, I guess. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

Mine included. I have learned through my struggles with infertility that nothing is to be expected.

Elain reaches over and squeezes my hand. “We only want to be there for you. We’re here with you both on this journey, Nesta.”

Knowing that was the point of telling our family about our past struggles, I nod. “I know, and we've been talking a lot about it for the last couple of weeks, Cass and I. I’m getting…excited.”

The agency we’ve been in touch with works mostly with young, unwed mothers in Velaris who aren’t ready for a child. They know that there are loving families, like us, who would do anything to find that missing piece and they help connect the mothers and families. There’s no guarantee we’d meet the mother, as some women opt for closed adoptions, but we don’t care either way.

We haven’t even been approved to work with the agency yet, so I try not to get ahead of myself.

“We’re meeting with them at their office and if that goes well, we’ll have a home visit a few days after that.”

“A home visit?” Feyre asks, eyebrows rising. “That seems a bit quick.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be,” I reply, swirling the wine in my glass. “This is to see if we even get accepted into the program. I’m sure there are going to be plenty of things we run into in this process that are frustrating, but it’s all going to be worth it in the end.”

“I think it’s beautiful that you want to adopt,” Elain says, eyes misty once again from those mom-of-infant hormones.

We leave soon after and take a walk around the city before I’m back in my car, driving home. I love spending time with my sisters and I’m thankful for all that they’ve done, but I can’t wait to get home, can’t wait to get in bed. The sooner I’m home, the sooner I’m asleep, the sooner tomorrow will be here.

Once I’m home, the house is dark and quiet. Greg is sprawled out on the couch and hardly stirs as I pass him to head upstairs. I’m not sure what time Cassian will be home but hopefully it isn’t too late. If he’s drinking, which I have no doubt he is, he needs time to sleep it off before the morning.

We’re not twenty-one anymore.

I sneak a peek in my office where my dress is hanging on full display so that the wrinkles are all out. Cass has been banned from this room and he’s done very good at avoiding it like the plague. He won’t be seeing me in this beauty until tomorrow.

After I shower, I throw on one of my favorite t-shirts, one of Cassian’s, and brush my teeth and hair before sinking into bed. I just open my newest read when the front door opens and closes. It’s not long after when I hear a bang, clatter, Greg’s pissed off noise, and Cassian’s string of filthiest curses.

Maybe I should’ve left a light on.

I hear noises from the kitchen, noises that sound suspiciously like pots and pans being pulled out. I wait, listening, my book open on my lap, waiting for him to come to bed. Then I hear the microwave open and close.

Sighing, I throw the blankets back and head downstairs, making sure he hears me as I descend into the living room.

I hear a cabinet slam followed by another barked curse. Entering the kitchen, I lean a hip against the table and cross my arms, taking in the carnage around me.

The perks of having a chef for a husband: he makes delicious food for every anniversary, birthday, party, you name it.

The cons of having a chef for a husband: he makes questionable food when he’s drunk.

There’s a pot on the stove, pasta boiling away, while a pan filled with an unknown brown sauce simmers nearby. His trusty colander is already in the sink, waiting to be used, while he’s on his hands and knees, digging through the cabinets, looking for something. The microwave beeps, letting us know its contents are ready to be removed. He doesn’t even hear it.

I cross my arms and wait, thinking he’ll realize I’m here eventually. After another minute, listening to the microwave beep as it reminds us it’s done, I ask, “What are you looking for?”

A loud thump carries through the kitchen as Cassian bangs his head on the underside of the shelf he was searching through. He scrambles backward, which is honestly comical, before getting to his feet and facing me.

He freezes as his eyes rove over my body, taking in the t-shirt and the fact that I’m wearing nothing underneath it. “Mother’s tits, you’re so fucking hot. I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet.”

I smirk, welcoming the praise, but just then the microwave beeps again and he gasps. “Cheese toast.”

Blinking, I wait, making sure I heard him right.

Sure enough, he pulls a plate out of the microwave, consisting of two pieces of sandwich bread with cheese melted over it.

“Hungry?” I ask, chuckling as he tears into the cheese toast.

“Carbs,” he replies around a mouth full of cheese and bread, pointing a flailing arm at the pasta boiling on the stove, as if that explains it all. “Need carbs so I’m not hungover tomorrow.”

“You know another way not to be hungover?” I tease, sauntering over to him. “Don't drink your weight in liquor.”

“Baby, if I drank my weight in liquor I’d be dead,” he says, shoving the rest of the toast that’s not really toast in his mouth. “Have you seen me? I’m gigantic.”

“Mhmm.” I’m close enough to him now that I brush his hair out of his face. “Where did those idiots take you?”

“The bar.”

I laugh, quietly. “I can tell that much. Which one?”

“Rita’s,” he croons. “They told her I’m renewing my vows tomorrow, and she gave us a free round of shots…multiple…multiple free rounds of shots.”

“Explains the whiskey on your breath,” I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad you had fun. Eat your noodles and come to bed.”

“You’re not staying?” He frowns. “Stay. Eat.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s after midnight. I’m old. I’m tired.”

“You’re not old, you’re…sexy in my shirt.” He grabs the old, thinned fabric and pulls me back towards him, but before he can make his move, the water boils over on the stove.

The words that come out of this man…I married a sailor.

Despite being three sheets to the wind, Cassian is able to clean up quickly and salvage his meal. He plates his pasta and pours his sauce over it, which is a mix of barbecue sauce, honey, and orange marmalade, and smells much better than it has a right to. Just as I’m about to head upstairs, I pause to drop a kiss to the top of his head, telling him to hurry up, but his arms snake around my waist, pulling me down into his lap.

“Stay with me,” he grumbles, pressing his lips to my neck. “Please?”

“Eight o’clock is going to come super early,” I grumble, leaning back into his embrace.

With his free arm, he twirls the pasta on a fork and takes a big bite. “Sure as fuck is.”

We stay like that until he finishes eating, clearing his plate. I stand to take it to the sink, but as soon as I’m on my feet, he’s sweeping me into his arms.

It’s romantic, but with how much he’s had to drink, likely ill-advised.

“You better not fall down the stairs while you’re carrying me,” I threaten as he heads up to our room.

For a moment, he wavers, but just as I gasp he starts to laugh and straightens himself.

“Just kidding.”

I smack him on the arm which only seems to bring him more joy as he reaches the second floor landing and pads down the hall and into our room. He doesn’t drop me on the bed but brings me into the bathroom with him instead. He sets me on the vanity before pulling his shirt over his head and taking off his belt, giving me one hell of a show.

He knows I’m watching and he loves it, both of us shameless.

After brushing his teeth and washing up, he kicks off the remainder of his jeans and scoops me up, yet again.

“Your hair is still a mess,” I grumble, my lips pressing against his shoulder.

“Sexy mess or disgusting mess?” He asks, and now that the alcohol is beginning to wear off, I can tell he’s exhausted.

“Somewhere in the middle,” I say, and he chuckles as he lays me down in bed and crawls up behind me, wrapping me in his arms.

His body is warm, safe, my own personal haven. I don’t even think he realizes it, don’t even think he knows the magnitude of what his arms around me brings. I melt into him and close my eyes, sighing contentedly.

“Remember the night before our wedding?” He whispers into the darkness.

Laughing softly, I nod. “Yes, but I’m surprised you do.”

If I thought Cassian was drunk now, it was nothing compared to the state he was in when showed up on my doorstep at three in the morning. More specifically, the doorstep of my father’s house, where I was staying with my sisters that night. Feyre and Elain were both still in high school and I was never the best at making friends, so rather than going out and getting drunk the night before I got married, I hung out at home with my sisters.

Cassian, on the other hand, hung out with his brothers in our brand new apartment off campus and got trashed, thanks to one of the older guys in his fraternity buying them whatever they wanted as a wedding gift.

Rhys and Az had passed out in the living room and Cass decided it would be a good idea to come see me. So he called a cab and then he was there, drunk and stumbling and making so much noise that I’m sure my father heard him sneaking in. We fell asleep, just like this, in each other’s arms, just like we did every night. We didn’t care about any old wives tales about staying apart the night before. We wanted to be together, so that's what we did.

My father was not thrilled the next morning when he woke up and found Cassian sitting at the breakfast table.

“Dad was pissed.” I can’t help but laugh. “I knew without a doubt at that moment that I was making the right decision, marrying you.”

He hums. “Were you doubting it before my drunken escapade?”

“No,” I say, and run my fingers across the arm that’s slung around my waist. “But that just proved my feelings right. Validation.”

He kisses the back of my neck. “I didn’t think I could love you more than I did back then. Didn’t think it was possible. But I do. I love you more now than I did then, and I’ll love you more tomorrow than I do today.”

I swallow as my eyes line with tears. “Save it for your vows.”

He huffs a laugh. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. My vows are way more romantic than that.”

I can’t wait to hear them, can’t wait to stand with him hand in hand and celebrate our marriage after all that we have overcome. As I drift off into a deep sleep, I once again know, without a doubt, that Cassian is my one and only, the other half of my soul, my lifelong partner and my best friend.

I don’t know what I did to be this damn lucky.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

Text

Fictional (2/3)

HUGE thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing another ACOTAR writing circle! This is my first time writing Nessian, part two of the fic started by @mercarimari. I was so excited to continue a story that was already DELIGHTFULLY meta; you can find part one here, and mine is under the cut.

Summary: Nesta has always hidden herself in books. Most if not all of her real life relationships had ended in fire and chaos. She was an expert in self destruction after all. But when a birthday gift from her sister brings a touch of magic to the world, and a piece of fiction into her reality--- Could things really change for the better?

No. Absolutely not. There was no way this stranger really was a man who'd just stepped out of a book, even if he did know her name. That was beyond absurd—Nesta thought she should have been worried someone had spiked her drink if she'd actually thought he could be a fictional character come to life.

"Do I know you?" she said.

Even though her tone was cold enough to freeze the surface of the sun, the man just kept grinning at her. "I think you know exactly who I am. Does Nesta Archeron's Unlikely Night ring a bell?"

The fact that he knew her name and the title of the book Elain had given her should have sent her running. He had to be some kind of stalker, one who might have gone through her things.

But he was also the most attractive man in this bar by a mile, and Nesta wouldn't be here if her sense of self-preservation was fully intact.

"Then cut the crap and tell me who you are and what you want from me."

That smile of his faltered for just a second. "Nes, it's Cassian. Do— Do you not know who I am?"

"If you are who I think you are, then I'm not nearly drunk enough for this conversation."

Nesta wasn't sure what she expected, but not for him to laugh or the way the sound of it warmed her. There was no mocking edge to it, and she found herself wanting to hear it again.

"That makes two of us."

Nesta stared at him over the rim of her glass, one eyebrow arched. "Does it?" "Yes. I've spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get back home," he said, raking a hand through his long hair. If he wasn't really a book character come to life, he was certainly insane, but a traitorous part of Nesta wished it was her hand doing that, just so she could see if his hair was as soft as it looked.

"Home?"

He gave her a look as if to say that she knew exactly what he meant, as preposterous as it was that his home could actually be the pages of a book. Nesta opened her mouth to say something in response, but the sharp sound of microphone feedback cut her off.

Whatever terrible local band was playing at the bar that night was about to begin their set.

"We should move this conversation somewhere a bit quieter," Nesta said, then cringed as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She hadn't intended for it to sound like such a come-on.

Cassian smiled at her again, and there was a hunger in his eyes that Nesta was all too familiar with. And well, hadn't she come here to find a bastard who'd look at her just like that?

"Moving a bit fast, aren't you, Nes? I didn't take you for that kind of girl."

Nesta scowled as she reached for her purse to pay the tab. Her voice was low and dangerous as she hissed, "You don't know a single thing about me."

When she was finished, Cassian left the bar with her. Nesta half-expected to feel a possessive hand on the exposed skin of her back, but Cassian just walked beside her, keeping a respectful distance. The only thing she felt was the cold night air.

Nesta led the way to a park a couple of blocks away, somewhere they could sit and talk without having to shout. For a long moment, the only sound was her heels clicking against the pavement. But when it was clear Cassian seemed intent on following her lead, she said, "You owe me an explanation. Start explaining, then."

Cassian ran his hand through his hair again, something that she remembered him constantly doing throughout the book. To Nesta, it had been a clear sign the book needed a better editor—the author had the same three overused gestures the characters made constantly.

"To be honest, that's what I was hoping you could help with. Everything back home was normal, but when I woke up this morning, I knew I wasn't there. Something brought me here," Cassian said.

He paused as they waited for a light to change, but Nesta didn't say anything, just crossed her arms. Even if what Cassian was saying was true (which she doubted), there was nothing she could help with.

"Everything was just so much more…vivid. I knew I had to be in the real world. And since the other Nesta—my Nesta—was based on someone real, I figured my best bet was to try and find you," Cassian continued.

Nesta couldn't hold back a sneer at the mention of the version of her that existed in the book. Cassian had probably been expecting someone sweet, friendly, and shy—not a shark out for blood at a dive bar.

At least he'd been nice enough not to voice his disappointment. It was better treatment than she deserved.

"And now what?" Nesta said, sinking down onto the nearest bench as they arrived at the park. This late, it was mostly deserted. Other than a few other couples out for a stroll and a man walking his dog, they were alone. "I don't have anything for you."

Cassian sighed. "I don't know. Could I at least see the book? Obviously, I know the plot, but I've actually never seen the cover."

That, at least, she could do for him. Nesta hadn't bothered to take the book out of her bag before she'd left for the bar, so she pulled it out and handed it to him. At the sight of the cover—a stock photo of a muscular, shirtless man—Cassian grimaced.

"Is that supposed to be me?" he said. "Looks like it."

It was a shame they were out in public because Nesta would have liked nothing more than to get his shirt off to compare. It was clear Cassian was muscular under the jean jacket he was wearing, but Nesta wanted to see for herself. As baffling as this all was, the man was still gorgeous.

As Cassian flipped through the pages and skimmed, Nesta took the opportunity to ogle him a bit. That strong jawline just begged for her to run a finger from one end to the other, and this close, she could spot the green flecks in his hazel eyes.

She watched as his grimace became more pronounced the more he read. Eventually, he shut the book with a shake of his head. "Damn Nes," he said, "I didn't realize the writing was so bad. That smut is…." He trailed off as if he didn't have a word to describe it.

Privately, Nesta agreed, though she'd never admit that anywhere there was even the slightest chance that it might get back to Elain. Her sister wasn't a big reader, and the gift was thoughtful, in a way.

Instead, she just said coolly, "The book didn't mention anything about you reading smut. What made you such an expert?"

Cassian shrugged. "You get curious about what's going on in the other books in your genre, and I'm not as much of a meathead as I look."

"Tell me the last five books you read," Nesta commanded, the challenge clear in her voice.

Cassian listed them off without hesitation, and when he was done, Nesta had to admit to herself that he really was just as much of a romance reader as her. It caught her

off-guard—she was used to being mocked for it, especially by men. But the jibes about too-perfect shirtless men and velvet-wrapped steel never came.

Instead, she found herself swapping recommendations with a man who'd stepped out of a book, but the most unbelievable part was how well their tastes aligned. They shared some favorite authors, re-read the same scenes over and over, and got irritated by the same tired tropes and turns of phrase.

But as the night dragged on and the temperature dropped, Nesta started to shiver in her short, open-backed dress. She put on a brave face, even as her teeth chattered.

Cassian pulled his jacket off and handed it to her. Nesta didn't take it. "Are you familiar with the saying 'a ho doesn't get cold'?" she said.

"It's yours if you want it," Cassian said, dropping the jacket in her lap. It was still warm from the heat of him. "But at least let me get you home safe."

If he wanted to go back to her place and fuck her, Nesta wished he'd just be honest about it. Keeping her out of the cold, making sure she got home safely—it was the kind of care she didn't deserve. Maybe he didn't realize that.

"I can get home on my own," she said, tossing the jacket back at him. Cassian snatched it out of the air before it smacked him in the face.

"You can," he said, "but you don't have to. And I want to know you're alright. It's late."

He just seemed so genuine; Nesta didn't know what to make of it. Everything about him was so unlike the men who just wanted her for a quick fuck.

She sighed. "Alright. Come home with me, then."

Cassian's shoulders slumped in relief as Nesta called a cab. Once they were up and moving, she warmed up a little bit. Cassian walked next to her, hands in his pockets.

"You're so different from her," he said, half to himself.

Nesta had no idea who he could possibly be talking about. "Her?" "The Nesta I know from the book. "

"I'm sure you want to get back to her," Nesta said, crossing her arms. She braced herself for a mention of how much he missed the sweet, shy girl from the book.

Cassian ran a hand through his hair for what seemed like the millionth time that night. "Not really," he said. "Not after meeting you. Sure, you've got some rough edges she doesn't, but that makes you real. Nothing compares to that."

Nesta didn't know what to say. Cassian was looking at her with a little bit of awe, and no one ever looked at her like that. For once, she was too thrown off to find the words for a typical bitter reply.

Before she really understood what she was doing, Nesta was reaching for his face and pulling it down to hers. Cassian's lips were just as soft as the book as described, and the kiss was gentle.

But Nesta Archeron didn't do gentle.

She slid her hands back from his face, tangled her fingers in his hair, and pulled just a bit. For half a second, she thought he might yelp and step back, but it just seemed to draw him in more. The hands that had settled on her hips pulled them closer, so her body was flush with his. As Cassian's tongue swept into her mouth, Nesta decided she could stay here forever.

But a sharp honk from the taxi they hadn't noticed arrived jolted them back to reality. "You're staying the night," Nesta declared as she opened the car door.

Cassian didn't argue, though he had the good sense not to mention just yet that he was already considering ways he could stay for a hell of a lot longer than just the night.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

Note

Could you do nessian trapped in an elevator or together in a power outage?

oooooo yeah I sure can. this was supposed to be funny at first but then it got away from me and welp here we are

“Cassian, stop it,” Nesta hissed, shooting him an annoyed look as he jumped up and down in the elevator like a little kid. “I’m serious.”

“Why?” Cassian replied with a wide grin. “You scared?”

Nesta and Cassian were on their way upstairs to celebrate Feyre and Rhys’ engagement in their fancy penthouse apartment. Over her dead body had she wanted it to look like they’d come to the party together, but she hadn’t wanted to be even later than she already was, so she’d swallowed her pride and gotten onto the elevator once he’d held it open for her.

Of course, she was seriously regretting that now that he was acting even more childishly than usual.

“I’m not scared,” she snapped at him. “I’m being sensible.”

“Sounds like you’re scared,” he shot back, still grinning. She hated how handsome that stupid smile made him look. “Come on, Nes. Live a little.”

“Stop calling me that,” she demanded.

“Make me,” he fired back, jumping one last time for good measure.

Nesta opened her mouth to tell Cassian exactly where he could shove it when the elevator made a strange groaning sound. Cassian finally stopped jumping, a slightly worried expression on his face as the elevator shook somewhat, and when the elevator came to an abrupt stop he at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nesta groaned as the lights flickered and then dimmed. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Just push the help button,” Cassian said, taking a few steps forward so he could lean over to hit the red button. “They’ll come quick. You know the wealthy aren’t allowed to suffer for as long as us regular folks.”

He was so warm she could feel the heat radiating off him even though they weren’t touching, and a small part of her missed it as he backed away. A much larger part of her wanted to strangle him for getting them in this situation in the first place, but she’d much rather be trapped in an elevator with a living person. “They better come quickly.”

“Mhmm, I love it when you threaten me,” he said cheekily. She whipped around to glare at him and his delight only grew further. “The things you do to me, sweetheart.”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” she said back frostily. “My name is Nesta. Not Nes, not sweetheart. Nesta.”

“Guess I’ll just have to get more creative,” he told her, something like challenge gleaming in his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll find something you like eventually.”

Nesta shot another glare his way before someone finally responded on the intercom. Once they got all the details hammered out, she was forced to admit semi-defeat: someone wouldn’t be able to get to them for at least half an hour, so they’d have to entertain themselves until help arrived.

“At least we still have service,” Nesta grumbled, reaching for her phone to let Feyre know what had happened and they’d be upstairs as soon as they were free.

“And each other,” Cassian responded. He pulled out his own phone, fingers flying across the keyboard as he sent his own text, before he sighed and sat down on the ground. “Come on. Come sit with me.”

“I’d rather not,” she told him pointedly. Maybe he didn’t care about the state of his clothes, but she wasn’t showing up to this party with a wrinkle on her if she could help it. “Who knows the last time these floors were cleaned.”

“Not to worry,” he replied, a smirk forming on his full lips as he patted his thigh. “I have a seat for you right here.”

“Get your head out of the gutter,” she snapped, her cheeks heating despite herself. “I wouldn’t come near you if my life depended on it.”

“Ouch. I’m not up to your standards?”

“Your personality certainly leaves much to be desired.”

“Is this you finally admitting that I’m hot?”

“What? Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Nes. It won’t hurt you to admit you think I’m attractive.”

“I don’t have to admit anything.”

“The lady doth protest too much, I think.”

“I’m protesting just the right amount, thank you very much.”

“Look, I’ll even go first so you don’t have to. I think you’re gorgeous.”

Nesta crossed her arms and refused to acknowledge how Cassian’s compliment made her want to preen a little. “Whatever.”

“That’s a weird way to say ‘thank you,’ but okay,” Cassian said. At Nesta’s unimpressed stare, he just sighed and looked at her in exasperation. “Come on, Nesta. As hot as it is looking up at you from down here, I know your feet have to be hurting a little in those shoes. It won’t kill you to sit, will it?”

“Fine,” she finally caved, pulling off her heels and sliding down as gracefully as she could manage onto the floor. She wasn’t sitting right next to him, but they were close enough that she could’ve reached out and touched him if she wanted. “But only because my feet were starting to hurt a little.”

“See? I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” he told her. He wasn’t even gloating; he actually seemed earnest for once, and she hated that she liked it. “So. Tell me about yourself.”

“This isn’t a job interview,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Maybe I just want to learn more about you,” he responded, raising his eyebrows at her. She was sitting close enough to him that she noticed a thin scar running through his right eyebrow, of course only serving to make him more attractive. “You ever think about that?”

“No.” She didn’t have a witty retort better than that, so kept it simple. “Is this just some ploy to force me to ask you questions back?”

“A guy can’t just want to pass the time with conversation?” he asked. “We’re stuck in here until further notice. If we’re not gonna pass the time the old fashioned way, conversation is the next best thing.”

Nesta begrudgingly admitted to herself that Cassian had a point. She decided it wasn’t worth addressing his comment about the old-fashioned way and said, “Fine. But I’m going first.”

“Women should always come first,” Cassian told her with a smirk, “so go right on ahead, sweetheart.”

“Why do you always try to rile me up so much?” she asked, cutting straight to the point.

“Because I like seeing you get all worked up,” he answered. “If you seriously told me to fuck off, I’d stop, but… something tells me you like this just as much as I do.”

“Keep deluding yourself,” she replied, refusing to acknowledge how much she liked the sound of his low laughter.

“I plan to,” he told her with a wink. “If you don’t like it, why do you let me flirt with you so much?”

“You call that flirting?” Nesta fired back, snorting.

“That’s light work,” Cassian retorted just as quickly. He shifted closer to her, their thighs pressing together through the fabric of their clothes. “You couldn’t handle the real deal.”

“I find that hard to believe,” she scoffed. She’d seen the way he’d flirted with women in the past, and she hadn’t exactly impressed by the material then.

“Oh yeah?” he asked nonchalantly. Almost too nonchalantly, but she was too invested in seeing what he’d do next to stop him job. “Let me hit you with some of my material, then.”

“Fine,” she agreed. “Do you worst.”

Nesta watched as Cassian studied her openly for a few moments, clearly deciding what he was going to do next. The elevator was quiet except for the sounds of their breathing, and the longer they sat there, the more the anticipation started to build for her. Was he going to be silly, or was he going to take this seriously?

“Hey,” Cassian eventually said, leaning in to tuck a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s a woman like you doing in an elevator like this?”

Nesta wanted to laugh at his lame joke, but suddenly she could hardly breathe from the way he was looking at her. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive, and damn her body for responding like she was going to let him. The air between them was so charged that her heart was beating at a gallop, and when those hazel eyes dipped down to her lips and back a few times in a quick succession, she knew with absolute certainly that he was going to kiss her and that she wanted him to. She wet her lips, more than ready for him to do it, watching in what felt like slow motion as he leaned in and—

And then the elevator suddenly roared back to life.

Nesta felt like she’d been sprayed with cold water as the tension between them snapped. She blinked and jerked back, wondering what the hell had come over her to make her want to kiss Cassian, hardly noticing as his hand awkwardly fell away from her face. She scrambled to stand up and put her shoes back on while steadily avoiding his gaze, the urge to run suddenly overwhelming.

“Nesta—” Cassian began, but then the elevator dinged! as it got to the top of the building and she was halfway down the hallway.

Nesta was absolutely not going to think about what had almost happened inside that elevator, and as she put as much distance between her and Cassian as she could manage, she could’ve sworn she head a soft, disappointed sigh.

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

Text

Hey friends! Welcome to Part Two of Sailing Ships! This fic was started by the wonderful @foreverinelysian and I was so excited to pick up where she left off! Sue did a wonderful job of set up and I love reading her first part. I hope this lives up to the great start she gave us!

Thank you to @azrielshadowssing for organizing the ACOTAR Writing Circle! This has been so great!

Here is a link to Part One of Sailing Ships and a link to the ACOTAR WC #3 Masterlist

Enjoy!

Warnings: just some angsty bits, ~3.3k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Sailing Ships Part Two

In his life, there were only two women Cassian had ever truly loved: his mother and Nesta Archeron.

After his mother died when he was ten, Cassian had been convinced in his youthful determined mind that nothing and no one would change him. His mother had been the only good thing in his life. Without her he was left to foster homes and free rec-center activities. He’d known what it was like being poor, hopeless, lonely.

Which might have explained why he put so much time into his schooling and his work. Helping start a gym and a connected outreach program for at-risk teens had been his way of fixing the past—his way of ensuring no one else had to live like he did.

Keep reading

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sannelovesreading · 2 years ago

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A/N: Listen, was I meant to spend the evening finally finishing my Elucien Week fic? Yes. Yes, I was. Did I instead spend it writing this 1k drabble to prove a point? Yes. Yes, I did. This fic is dedicated to @moodymelanist, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk, and @talkfantasytome who agree with me, but it is especially dedicated to @dustjacketmusings because THIS is the correct take. Thank you and goodnight 😌

Nesta sighs softly as the tips of Cassian’s fingers skirt down her arm and then back up again. She practically melts against him, curling tighter into his side. She shoves her toes deeper beneath his thigh, leaching as much warmth as she can, and she can practically feel Cassian’s chuckle as it rumbles through his chest. His hair tickles her cheek as he turns his head, and she doesn’t even bother biting back her smile when she feels him press a kiss to her forehead.

“Comfy, sweetheart?”

Nesta hums her assent, earning another soft laugh from Cassian. She keeps her eyes on the television screen, on the movie playing there. She tries to pay attention to the characters, the dialogue they’re speaking, but already, she feels so relaxed, so comfortable. She can feel every muscle unwind, her eyes starting to flutter, but she’s determined, holding out until the end credits start to roll.

Cassian grabs the remote and turns off the television, the screen fading to black with a soft click. Nesta tosses the blanket off her legs and stands up, stretching her arms high above her head until she feels that satisfying pull in her back. Cassian’s hands settle on her hips, sliding around her waist and tugging her back into him.

“Don’t,” Cassian whispers, burying his face against her neck.

Nesta snorts softly, even as she presses back against him. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“But I know what you’re going to say, that you need to go home.”

“I do. It’s late.”

“Stay.” Nesta doesn’t say anything, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth, but that just seems to encourage Cassian more, his arms tightening around her. “Stay, Nes.” At her continued silence, she can feel his smile against her skin. “Neither of us have work in the morning. I can give you something to sleep in. So stay.”

Nesta turns around in his arms, using all her willpower to keep her face neutral. “I usually like to shower before bed.”

“I know it might sound crazy, but my apartment does in fact have one of those.”

“I hate you.”

Cassian’s hands reach up and frame her face. “No, you don’t. Besides, I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”

Nesta hums, pretending to think about it. “French toast?”

“You drive a hard bargain, but it’s a deal.”

Nesta smiles and presses up onto her toes, sealing their deal with a kiss. It’s sweet, a simple press of lips as they both smile into it, but happiness takes root between Nesta’s ribs and leaves butterflies fluttering in her chest.

When they pull apart, Cassian leads the way down the hall and to his bedroom. He roots around in his drawer until he produces a soft looking, oversized tee. He steps back over to Nesta, holding it out for her to take.

“Towels are in the closet in the hall, and you know where the bathroom is.” With a nod, Nesta tries to take the shirt from his hands, but Cassian holds firm, using their shared grip to pull Nesta close again and steal another kiss. When he pulls away, that infuriating smirk of his takes over his face, his voice dipping low and suggestive as he says, “let me know if you need any help.”

Nesta rolls her eyes fondly, but she takes the shirt finally and steps out of his bedroom. She finds the closet Cassian mentioned and tugs the door open. She’s surprised to find so much on the shelves inside. Wash cloths. Small towels that seem to have buttons on them. She spies a neat stack of regular towels and grabs one, heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

She sets the towel and Cassian’s shirt aside. She reaches into the shower and turns the knob, letting the water warm up while she peels her own clothes off and neatly folds them. When steam starts to fill the bathroom, she yanks back the shower curtain, but she pauses before she steps inside. She has to blink a few times, making sure what she’s seeing isn’t some trick of her imagination. For a moment, she feels like she’s suddenly transported to Elain and Lucien’s home.

Lined neatly along the shelves in the shower are bottles. Multiple bottles. A large, bright green bottle labeled sulfate free shampoo. A small, pink bottle next to it labeled co-wash shampoo. Deep conditioner. Leave-in conditioner. A small jar of hair mask.

Nesta has certainly always appreciated Cassian’s hair. The way those curls look so gorgeous when they hang around his face and shoulders. The way the strands feel so soft when she runs her fingers through them. She supposes she should have known his luscious hair wasn’t all natural and took some work. Should have known he’d take his haircare routine so seriously.

She has to bite her lip around a laugh, but she finally steps into the shower and under the spray. The heat of the water against her shoulders pulls a sigh from her lips and she tips her head back, letting the water soak her hair. She eyes the different hair supplies Cassian has before deciding to grab the sulfate free shampoo and work that through her hair. She uses some of the deep conditioner next, surprised at how soft her hair already feels when she rinses it out.

Nesta shuts off the shower and steps out, wrapping the towel around her and squeezing out the excess water from her hair. She pulls open Cassian’s medicine cabinet in hopes of finding a comb and is greeted with the sight of even more hair products. Creams, mousse, and gels. She shakes her head fondly and grabs the comb stored in there beside the various products, carefully running it through her wet hair.

She tugs Cassian’s shirt over her head, the fabric soft where it hangs off her and smelling just like Cassian’s cologne. She takes a moment to savor the feeling of it before grabbing the towel again, bending forward and rubbing her hair through it before wrapping the towel around her head. She straightens back up and adjusts the towel slightly so it doesn’t fall.

She decides to leave her clothes for the morning, padding back down the hall and into Cassian’s bedroom. He’s already lounging on his bed, stripped down to just a pair of boxers and casually scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a smile when Nesta steps inside, but then his eyes widen, that smile slowly slipping away. He almost looks… horrified.

“What?” Nesta asks, tilting her head in confusion and tugging almost nervously at the hem of the shirt she’s wearing.

“Did you use a normal towel on your hair?”

“What.”

“Didn’t you see the hair towels in the closet?” Cassian asks, setting his phone down on the bedside table and clambering off the bed.

“What are you talking about?” Nesta shoots back, feeling almost bewildered as Cassian steps around her and into the hall.

“Your hair is going to get frizzy if you use a normal towel like that,” Cassian calls out, and Nesta can hear rustling before he steps back into view, one of the smaller towels with a button on it in his hands. “These are microfiber. These are what you want.”

Without another word, Cassian pulls the towel off Nesta’s head, tossing it toward the hamper near his dresser. He guides Nesta to bend forward so that all her hair hangs down then carefully wraps the microfiber hair towel until all the strands are gathered and tucked inside. When Nesta stands back up, his hands work with practiced ease, securing the towel with the button at the front.

“See?” Cassian asks, his hands sliding from Nesta’s head down to her shoulders. “Much better, right?”

“You’re crazy,” Nesta tells him, but there’s no hiding the fondness from her tone, no stopping the smile that tugs up her lips.

“You love me anyways.”

—

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