#Nessian prompt

[my-fan-side]

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 😳

[thewayshedreamed]

Playing With Fire

a/n: This one-shot was written to fulfill a prompt, one that I saved until the right inspiration hit 😏  Thanks to the anon who sent this in many moons ago! I saw you, and I’m finally prepared to deliver. 

Nesta meets Cassian when she was human, still engaged to Thomas, before Feyre. They start a thing and then meet each other when Feyre visits her. (smut please) combined with this prompt I received for kinktober from @moodymelanist​ 💕 Maybe some handcuffing/tied up action. Up to you who gets tied up and who’s in charge 👀

So, here it is— set in canon, shameless Nessian smut where Nesta is still human and neither of them have any good sense or control as it pertains to the other. Verbal sparring included.

Warning(s): strong language, smut, mentions of infidelity——————————————————————————

Food in the human realm was always so bland. The company, however, never was.

Tense silence wasn’t uncommon for these dinners. The words they lacked at times always came back around in bursts of ire or mirth, but which one was always uncertain. Sometimes, it was both.

One thing he was always sure to do was keep an eye trained on Nesta Archeron. She was as elegant as ever, tempting in the most depraved ways, and even more so because he couldn’t have her. Not legitimately, anyway.

Before these routine visits to the Archeron estate, Cassian hadn’t been a stranger to their part of the world. As irony would have it, his path had crossed with Nesta Archeron’s several times before Feyre had entered their lives in the Night Court, and he had no way of knowing at the time that their initial encounter would prove to make things complicated.

Mostly because he hadn’t been able to stay away ever since.

Cassian had been in the human realm gathering intel on the Night Court’s behalf, collecting what little scraps of info he could regarding the tensions among the Courts and with Hybern. Azriel and his team were up to their ears in leads, and Cassian had agreed to assess the few in that particular corner of the world in order to help his brother the best he could. He’d landed to rest his wings after flying for so many hours, he’d lost count. A small creek ran within the trees, and he had just knelt along its edge to splash water over his face when a twig snapped nearby.

With a predator’s focus, he whirled around. It was the first time he’d locked eyes with Nesta, and looking back, it was the first time she’d struck him a little stupid. Like an amateur, he’d blinked at her for seconds until she’d broken the silence, demanding to know who he was and what business he had in their woods.

At the time, he’d been impressed with her nerve. For a human to lift her chin in quiet defiance and dare to demand answers from him was a far cry from his usual encounters, and he’d been in awe of her ever since.

Their initial conversation was a bit of a blur, but after offering to help her carry the firewood she hauled in her slender arms, Nesta’s walls had crumbled infinitesimally. It had surprised him when she recommended he adjust his camp site by a few dozen paces to place him within the borders of her family’s private property. The only thing she asked in return was his silence, and Cassian hadn’t been keen to bring attention to himself in the first place.

For the few days he’d camped there, he’d offered a lending hand in any heavy lifting required to earn his keep. Most of the time it involved copious amounts of firewood, and since he was no stranger to preparing for the frigid winters of Illyria, assisting Nesta with the task was almost negligible.

Cassian had told her he meant to earn the safety of his campsite, but in truth, he wasn’t interested in any unnecessary distance between himself and this elegant and brutal puzzle who barely humored him in casual conversation. It wasn’t for his lack of trying.

The first time he had seen that intoxicating and addicting spark flash within her blue eyes, he’d been a goner. Somehow, he’d goaded her into a loaded debate around the prejudices between humans and the Fae, among the lower and High Fae. That moment, sitting near the small campfire they’d stacked together at his tent, Nesta’s face had flashed with equal parts ire and need after a particularly blunt point Cassian had made.

Her lips were against his before he had a moment to process, and as someone who was rarely caught off-guard, he had faked his composure well enough. Despite never having been with a human woman, his blood roared in a way that had him staggering forward to press his body to hers.

They’d made it into his modest tent before their clothes had been shed with little finesse. Everything about the physical was different with her, and it took an extraordinary amount of self-control to remember to master his intensity enough to keep her safe.

A sharp cough and kick to his ankle brought him back to the present. Azriel eyed him curiously from the chair next to Cassian, his keen expression asking a hundred questions without the man uttering a word. His shadows danced over his shoulders, a bit more chaotic than usual, and Cassian wondered if they were the reason for Az’s check-in. Nosy little bastards.

“I’m good,” he murmured, shoving his food around with his fork.

He wasn’t good, not fine at all. Sitting near Nesta and treating her like a mere acquaintance was chipping away at his sanity in a way that had his heart pounding against the inside of his chest, and Azriel didn’t seem ignorant enough for his liking.

“You don’t look well,” Feyre remarked, her blue eyes round with concern. Cassian hated all the lies he committed by omission, especially when Feyre was so open and kind with him, but what was he supposed to say?

I met your sister months ago and slept with her. I wish that was the only time, but I came back more than once before I even knew you. Never mind the times I’ve traveled alongside you and Rhys. I’ve ended up in her chambers every time, her fiancé be damned.

To his credit, he hadn’t known Nesta was engaged the first time he’d bedded her. She’d moved with such purpose and claimed him so thoroughly that it should have been more obvious that she’d been seeking some level of control, but he couldn’t think on that too long without entertaining what happened to make her crave it.

“I’m tired, Fey,” he lied, his lips stretching into a confident smile. “It’s been a long day with travel.”

Rhys swirled the wine in his glass and shot an amused glance in Cassian’s direction. “I winnowed you most of the way.”

Cassian’s head snapped back in a laugh, and the rest joined him. He didn’t begrudge Rhys for his teasing, and he forgot it altogether when he dropped his chin to find Nesta’s eyes fixed over his throat.

“Maybe,” he drawled, dragging his eyes away from Nesta to address Rhys, “but you’re taxing enough in your own right.”

They shared a laugh and quieted down to continue their meal. Cassian took a long pull of his wine and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sound of Nesta’s cool voice.

“I assume the food isn’t to your tastes. Again.”

Always with this, he thought. He couldn’t help the fact that he was Fae and experienced food differently, no more than Nesta could help that she was human.

A fact he was reminded of every time he thought of her in any capacity.

“Ah, Sweetheart,” he said lazily, propping his elbow on the back of the empty chair to his other side. “The food is fine. You know my tastes are especially particular.”

Her cheeks flushed, but he held her eyes as long as she’d let him. She would likely have his balls for being so outrightly suggestive, but he was half a beat from handing them over most of the time anyway.

With a dismissive clearing of her throat, Nesta’s attention turned to her own goblet of wine. A satisfied smirk tugged at Cassian’s mouth for the rest of the meal.

Everyone was tired by the end of dessert, and Cassian was close to boiling from the inside out with the way his blood thrummed through his veins. Each of them made their ways to their respective rooms with minimal fuss.

Blessedly, Azriel offered to do first patrol of the grounds— something Cassian was happy to accept. Az was restless at night and never settled down at the same time, so anticipating his moves was difficult. If he did first patrol, at least Cassian was aware of when he’d returned to their room. The chances of him leaving after that were slim.

If Cassian was tasked with patrol first, things were more complicated. He had to be hyper aware of the time being that Az would go looking for him if he was gone too long. The problem was anticipating how long his brother was content to wait before going after him. The last thing he needed was Azriel’s shadows swooping into his business and scandalizing their master for the rest of time with what they found.

So yes, the offer from his brother was a blessing straight from the Cauldron.

Waiting for him to return was another matter in and of itself, never mind the need to seem unaffected by the delay in the face of someone who conducted spy work for their court. Azriel didn’t turn a knowing gaze toward him when they switched off, and that was an improvement from dinner only hours before. If Az noticed anything amiss with Cassian, he had the decency to keep it to himself.

Cassian flew his laps over the Archeron estate, his eyes scanning the grounds as well as a few yards beyond the perimeter in case anything lurked within the forest. Nothing seemed obviously out of the ordinary, but he made an additional lap to be sure.

On his final pass, his eyes lingered on the flicker of candlelight spilling from an all too familiar window. The balcony doors were slightly ajar, the long curtains tucked tightly against each other. They billowed in the wind, and Cassian adjusted his wings to angle in their direction as if summoned by some silent beacon.

His boots were quiet on the cobblestones. He thanked the Cauldron for small mercies since it offered him several moments to catch his breath and steady his nerves. Shaking his head, he suppressed a laugh at his own expense for being torn up over a human woman that he saw infrequently at best. He squared his shoulders and gripped one of the curtains between his calloused fingers, easing it open and tucking his wings tight to avoid snagging the delicate fabric.

He felt her presence before his eyes landed on her form, sitting at the vanity nearby. As usual, she kept her attention fixed resolutely on her task and avoided eye contact altogether. Cassian would have been offended if not for his preternatural hearing picking up the way her breath hitched and her heart sped up at realizing his presence. He refused to preen considering those same physiological responses accompanied a myriad of emotions, though.

Cassian dragged his eyes away and channeled his focus on shutting the balcony doors quietly. When they were properly secured, he pulled the curtains tight and turned toward Nesta with a lump in his throat.

Her shoulders rolled with the effort of removing her shawl. She hadn’t worn it at dinner, but with the stubborn chill within her chambers, Cassian assumed she’d grabbed it in defense of the cold.

Nesta had been waiting for him, he realized. It didn’t come as a total surprise, but his brain was usually inclined to assume she found their dalliances more convenient than something worth delaying a warm bath on a cold night.

She cleared her throat, the sound prim somehow. “I assume all is well around the estate.”

“All clear,” he responded, humoring her need for small talk. Both knew he wasn’t there for the scintillating conversation or an update on the grounds, but he would allow her the pretense.

Nesta turned around, her shoulders back and her chin high— a queen in every sense of the word. Some dark part of Cassian loved that he knew what it meant to dishevel her, to watch her lose that carefully crafted presentation she gave to everyone else. The thought made his blood heat and his tongue a bit bolder.

“Would you rather I stand here, or will you invite me to sit?” He gestured lazily toward the bench at the foot of her bed. “I don’t know the rules for how we’re playing things tonight.”

Nesta scoffed, but he swore her eyes twitched slightly at the corners in amusement. “Sit, if you’d like,” she said, but no trace of the hostess was present in her tone. “Don’t drag any mud across the rug.”

Cassian walked casually over to the bench and lowered his considerable weight while listening for any creaks that hinted to issues of integrity. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He offered his widest smile and bent forward to loosen the laces of his leather boots. Setting them neatly to the side, he stretched his wings and rested an elbow atop his thigh. Nesta’s eyes darted to his forearm, trailing to where his hand hanged casually between his legs, and he couldn’t resist shooting a wink her way.

“We meet again.”

Nesta’s tone was unimpressed. “It would appear so.”

Each of their ill-planned meet-ups flashed through Cassian’s mind like some kind of highlight reel of hedonistic decisions. Her nails against his back. How the estate’s old storage shed creaked with their weight pressed against the aging wall. The little gasp of air she took when he raked his teeth over her throat. How his callused palm rasped over the delicate wallpaper of the nearby inn as he pushed into her from behind. The indulgent groan she allowed herself when he entered her.

Cassian barely suppressed an actual shake of his head to clear the thoughts away. “A warm welcome as always,” he drawled.

Patience a thing of the past, Nesta walked toward him, yet stopped several feet away. She clasped her fingers together and lowered them over her skirts, a portrait of the inconvenienced.

“Do you expect me to believe you’re here for company and tea?” she bit.

“I think we both know why I’m here, Sweetheart.”

Nesta cheeks reddened in irritation, but Cassian had always loved the way the blush crept over her face. He straightened as she closed the distance, bringing them almost eye to eye. Too bad they’d never see the world that way— not if their usual interactions were any indication.

“You’re presumptuous—“

“I’ve been right so far,” he interrupted with a smirk, and he wondered how much restraint it took for Nesta to allow his head to stay on his shoulders.

“— and insufferable. I don’t know why I continue to entertain this song and dance, nor why I engage in this ridiculous tit for tat.”

Cassian chuckled, running his tongue over the front of his teeth. Nesta chewed the inside of her lip, a quirk Cassian doubted she knew of herself if she did it in front of him. The display appealed to the General in him, who sized up an opponent and knew exactly when to make a calculated move. He rose slowly to his feet and watched Nesta’s throat bob at his closeness.

Enough with the faulty armor and the bullshit, loaded silences. Nesta wasn’t as clever at hiding herself from Cassian as she aimed to be, and she hardly gave him enough credit for his own skills in observation. It made him wonder how dense her future husband had proven to be if she assumed so little of other people.

“Admit it. You bite back because it’s the only time you feel anything anymore,” he taunted, pressing a hand to the small of her back. “And you hate it.”

His free hand traced the delicate line of her collar bone. The moment her restraint snapped was always a beautiful one, and it was the sole reason Cassian hadn’t yet allowed himself to slant his mouth over hers. It would have been a shame to miss it.

Nesta was quiet for a while, her breaths faster than before. With one more drag of his knuckles over the base of her neck, Nesta launched into action, fumbling with the ties of her gown. Her words were swift, cutting.

“You don’t get to fly in at your leisure and act like you know me.” Cassian offered a cocky grin, his eyes sliding down to watch the sheer efficiency of her work. It was enough to keep her talking, and if she was talking, a shot remained for them yet. “And don’t think because we’ve traded a couple of orgasms that you’re entitled to an opinion.”

Cassian laughed humorlessly. “I’m sure your husband would love to hear this means nothing. That you managed to find some pleasure for yourself while you pretend you don’t think on it otherwise. ”

Not his proudest moment, but the man’s existence was enough to sour Cassian’s mood. He couldn’t resist the jab.

“He’s not my husband.”

For all he’d said, it was a compelling denial— only that it was missing a few critical considerations. His wings twitched in torture or delight, and damn him if he was supposed to figure it out. He stepped forward, turning to crowd her against the nearby wall. Nesta tilted her chin to look at him, and he savored the way the forced indifference played across her features.

“Mm,” he muttered, lifting his hand to run his knuckles delicately over her jaw. “We can talk about the rest later.”

Nesta’s breaths shuddered out of her, each one a blessing against the skin of Cassian’s throat. Trailing his finger beneath her chin, he eased it up toward his own and slide his lips over hers. It was only enough to have her lean into him, a fact that seemed like a self-induced ache atop their existing dynamic.

Those blue eyes, so expressive beneath her pinched brow, scanned Cassian’s face for something he couldn’t quite label. That fevered need for control rolled off of her in waves, and since life seemed to offer Nesta Archeron very little of it, Cassian decided he would gladly toss the reins to her. Anything— truly, anything— to keep her curves pressed against him.

“How will you have me tonight, Nesta?” he murmured, letting her name roll slowly from his tongue.

Sure, slender hands reached for his waist. His breath caught, but he hoped to recover quickly enough that Nesta wouldn’t notice the way her touch affected him. Perhaps it was too late for such hopes, but Cassian hadn’t made peace with showing a woman like Nesta his hand. It was no offense meant for her; rather, he knew with such little ammunition, it would take nothing for her to bring him to his knees.

He would kneel for much less, after all.

Her cheek was warm beneath his large hand, her lips plush— yet, unyielding somehow. Cassian angled his head to deepen the kiss, but Nesta batted his hand away from her face and leaned away before he realized what she aimed to do. How many times would she gain the upper hand with him— someone who had lived years beyond her own age and had navigated much more strategically-complex situations?

“Hands to yourself,” she snapped, but the breathiness in her tone gave her away. If she’d aimed for unaffected, she had failed spectacularly. A weird sense of pride warmed Cassian at the thought.

For dramatic pause, Cassian made a show of situating the gauntlets at each of his wrists as he backed away. The siphons caught the low candlelight and reflected a crimson hue, warming the room and giving a false sense of intimacy that felt too real for what it was.

Removing his flying leathers, he threw them over a nearby armchair rather than dropping the heavy garments to the rug. Nesta looked down her nose at the offending pieces, but her gaze slid to Cassian quickly, surveying him up and down like she was seeing him in a tunic and pants for the first time.

“Sweetheart?” he goaded, allowing his mouth to tick upward in the smirk she cursed so often.

“On the bed, propped against the pillows,” she managed, her gown dropping to the floor and leaving her in only a shift.

Cassian’s mouth watered at the sight. Most often, Nesta would only go as far as to let him take her in the thin garment, but it did very little in leaving things to the imagination.

To save her the trouble, Cassian loosened the neckline of his tunic and reached behind him to unfasten the buttons below his wings. They twitched against his wishes, displaying his anticipation to anyone within a reasonable distance. Nesta being the only one was no comfort. She was the last person who needed evidence of the nagging ache he felt when it came to her.

Her eyes scanned every inch of his exposed torso, and the heat of her attention was a nearly tangible thing in the room. Cassian forced an eyebrow up in challenge, a show of his indifference, although he wondered if the lie was worth it anymore.

Padding over to her bed, he lowered his body against the plush linens and arranged the pillows to accommodate his wings comfortably. As comfortable as they could be, anyway.

Despite their many nights together, Cassian hadn’t managed to offer access to such an intimate part of himself. To anyone who wasn’t Illyrian, it would have seemed counterintuitive that he would readily offer his cock to someone before allowing any touch to his wings, but he’d been lucky that Nesta never tried.

Cassian rested one arm against the bedspread, laying the other casually against his stomach. He dragged it slowly toward the leather stays of his pants, but Nesta’s commanding voice stopped him.

“I’ll do it.”

Her words were like lightning to his spine. His cock hardened under her attention, only made worse by her measured approach. He offered his free hand toward her, more in affection than an offer of assistance, but the glare she threw in his direction reminded him of their stipulations.

Hands to himself, then.

With a knowing smile, he tucked the rejected hand behind his head and splayed the other wider across the skin of his stomach. He would follow Nesta’s rules, sure, but he never agreed to stop goading her. As long as that fire flashed across her blue eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist stoking it.

Nesta chewed her lip once more, and Cassian barely stifled a moan. She hadn’t touched him, yet he was unraveling at a record pace. At least, he thought he was, but he’d been ignorant to how his restraint would be tested when she threw a leg over his hips and straddled him. Her hands grazed his chest, and he allowed his eyes to roll closed.

Nesta dragged her nails lightly over his chest and down the muscles of his stomach. His back bowed in pleasure, his hands launching toward her waist before his brain caught up. He stopped them just in time, hovering inches from her soft curves and his fingers twitching to haul her against him.

“Nesta,” he begged, his voice a whisper.

She eyed him curiously, and pushed back so that she was straddling his shins. With the same mastery she had used on the stays of her gown, she loosened Cassian pants and hooked her fingers into the waistband. Cassian lifted his hips as best he could to help, groaning when she left them bunched just below his knees.

Nesta ran a slender finger from the head of his cock, teasing the entirety of his length in a way that had him twitching beneath her ministrations. A satisfied smile stretched across her beautiful face, and as if she was capable of the smallest mercies, she crawled over him and sealed her mouth against his.

The soft fabric of her shift glided over his chest, a solid contrast to the almost primal way she took his mouth. Cassian met her in a battle for what little dominance remained, dragging her full bottom lip between his teeth and kissing her senseless again.

His knuckles fisted the bed linens, and Mother’s tits, he regretted the earlier version of himself who threw any and all control to the wind. Something about Nesta went straight to his bloodstream, and the effect didn’t seem concerned with showing Cassian any kindness.

Nesta pulled away roughly and inched down Cassian’s body to line him up with her entrance. He opened his mouth to offer a touch, a taste— whatever got her ready for him and had her pretty little moans dancing in the air around them. She shook her head as if understanding his intent. The head of his cock pressed against her, and Nesta leaned forward to slide her lips over his.

“Still think we should talk?” she whispered, teasing his mouth with a soft flick of her tongue.

Cassian’s eyes rolled behind his eyelids, both in irritation and brain-melting pleasure. A beat passed before he clued in to her intentions. She had artfully dodged any response during Cassian’s own attempt at gaining the upper hand; so artfully, in fact, that he had wondered if his words had registered with her at all.

Damn him for underestimating the catalogue created by Nesta’s razor sharp wit. Of course she’d heard him and understood his meaning. Withholding any response had been every bit strategic. She wasn’t the type to allow life to drone on by accident.

A hiss tore from his mouth at the divine tension around his cock. With no shortage of intention, he forced his eyes open to take her in, and he thanked the Cauldron for his timing when Nesta straightened completely to lower herself over him. Tendrils of loose hair danced around her sharp cheekbones, both dusted with a vicious shade of pink that seemed exclusive to Nesta. Everything about the woman was a new experience, unique in every sense of the word.

Back arched, Nesta allowed her head to roll back over her shoulders while she chased her pleasure. Every muscle in Cassian’s legs and core were engaged in a feeble attempt to preserve the last shreds of his dignity. No one had ever rattled him to such a degree, but he didn’t fight it. He was happy for it, even. What that said about him, he didn’t know.

Nesta relaxed her thighs, moaning at her fullness once their hips were flush. Cassian’s hands drifted to her thighs, his thumbs ghosting a mindless path over her pebbled skin. He realized his mistake right before her head snapped forward, fire swirling in her eyes.

“Cassian,” she warned, her tone too breathy to be truly threatening.

Cassian released her with savage efficiency and laid his clenched fists by his side. Nesta resumed her rhythm, riding him expertly and ramping up the pace once she found the angle that served her best.

His hands opened and closed with the effort of keeping them in their assigned places. The silk shift clung to Nesta’s body in all the right ways, and a soft sheen of sweat erupted over her skin. Cassian hadn’t know temptation like her in his life.

Nesta’s hips faltered slightly, and instinctually, Cassian reached for her waist to steady her. His attention stayed on her face, lost in mindless pleasure and with abandon he knew in his soul she never allowed herself. Cassian flexed his hips slightly to shove his hands underneath him; otherwise, he feared proving Nesta’s assumptions that he was an uncivilized brute. Usually, he had no problem playing the part for the sake of their banter, but nothing was worth risking how safe Nesta felt with him. Nothing.

The movement had Nesta moaning into the quiet room, loud enough that Cassian barely suppressed the urge to shush her. She wasn’t a woman who seemed overly keen on being silenced in her own home, no matter how problematic her circumstances. Instead, Cassian bit the inside of his cheek almost to the point of pain to keep himself level. Nesta, on the other hand, seemed overcome with her need for release. Her head snapped forward, her eyes locking on Cassian’s and a hand planted on his lower abdomen for leverage.

“I’m—” she whimpered, but she never finished her thought. Before she had a chance, her jaw went slack with pleasure and her free hand slid over the front of her shift to tease a nipple through the soft fabric. The sight alone threatened to unravel him, but he was a little in awe of how quickly she’d come in comparison to their usual times together.

“Gods, Nesta,” Cassian breathed. Her core pulsed around him, and his eyes rolled behind his lids. He’d originally had more to offer in way of a comment, but the tension around his cock was enough to melt all coherent thought away.

Nesta stayed atop him through the aftershocks, until her hips were still and flush against Cassian’s again. He kept his eyes closed for a moment before looking up at her beneath lazy lids, his mouth drying at how stunning she was with the flush of release stippling her fair skin.

Her bottom lip was imprisoned between her teeth, a ghost of a satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. To Cassian’s surprise, Nesta slide her hands over the tight muscles of his stomach and up to his chest. She ran her thumb over each of his nipples, earning a shaking moan in return before ghosting her lips over his.

Cassian put the full might of his discipline into keeping his hips still despite the way his cock throbbed, still painfully hard inside her. Nesta was especially sensitive after she came, and on an even simpler note, she didn’t owe him an orgasm in return. Regardless, he had some awkward arrangements to make and some things to take care of before he tried slipping into bed only feet away from Azriel. He would never let him live it down.

Before he could bemoan the fact, Nesta rocked gently over him. Her curves were pressed flush against the hard lines of his body, and even though he could feel the full warmth of her beneath the silk she wore, it was hardly enough. What he would give— an embarrassing number of things, really— to feel her smooth skin gliding over his own.

Nesta moaned into the quiet, tracing Cassian’s lips teasingly with her tongue. He chased her mouth when she moved to sit-up but settled quickly into the pillow when he remembered the sight she was to behold, thoroughly debauched and relaxed in a way he guessed almost no one saw. The possibility that he was the only one sent a shiver down his spine.

Without any warning, Nesta started rocking her hips in long, languid strokes. Cassian bit his bottom lip viciously to keep from crying out, his head rolling back into the plush pillow and exposing his throat without a second thought.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

His focus narrowed to every sensation, no matter how faint. Anywhere Nesta touched him came alive with something akin to wildfire, and sweat erupted over every inch of his skin. He swallowed, forcing down the lump in his throat and hauling a deep breath in to his lungs to steady his heartbeat.

Nesta’s breaths soughed through the charged air of the room, her chest rising and falling as if battling against the silk confines. Cassian lowered his chin to take her in properly and opened his mouth to say the gods only knew what— perhaps a thesis of her perfection, a prayer to the divine patchwork of the universe that brought them into each others orbit no matter how temporary their circumstances. Each time they met, Cassian was closer and closer to damning the universe for the very same.

The rising body heat, both his and Nesta’s, felt a bit like a cage with his hands trapped beneath him. Fully intending to honor their rules, he slid them out from under his body and gripped the bed linens once more, moaning at how the cool air tickled his fevered skin. He didn’t miss the way Nesta’s attention snapped toward the action, nor her quick recovery in an attempt to shield it from him. Suspicion and ire for her fiance threatened to choke him, but discussing either had no place in that moment. Or ever, if Nesta had anything to say of it. She usually had the last word no matter the topic.

“Nesta,” he rasped, pausing to gather himself when her eyes met his, “can you come for me again, Sweetheart?”

Fuck, he hoped she would. Nesta was always so responsive, but her release had turned her bones to jelly, it seemed. Considering he was still under “no touching” protocol, worshiping every inch of her smooth skin the way she deserved was out of the question at the moment. Next time, if the opportunity presented itself. Maybe. Hopefully.

Before uttering a word, Nesta pulled her shift over her head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. The sight of her— despite having very little room for imagination before— threatened to send him over the edge, but he gritted his teeth and fought against it. He wanted to feel Nesta come again, for the tight grip of her to carry him through each and every wave of pleasure.

Nesta scanned his body again, her expression turning almost sheepish. A tension lay beneath her actions at his question.

“I think so,” she moaned, hips rocking that same languid rhythm. Something like determination flashed across her face, and all he wanted was to take things into his own hands to save her the trouble.

It would only take one word, and he’d have her under him. He knew her body well if she could trust him to take care of her, but getting there wasn’t going to happen if her mind had been preoccupied before he’d landed on her balcony. And with demons he’d never know or understand. The thought gave him pause, particularly with her vigilance of his smallest actions.

“We’ll get you there,” he promised, his voice rough. With intentional slowness, he brought his wrists together before her and watched her brow wrinkle in consideration. “You’re safe with me.”

Emotions warred across her face— confusion, awe, perhaps a hint of relief. Whatever the combination, it was almost intimidating to be under the intensity of such focus. Her hips slowed to a halt, her decision made, and she reached out to grip each of his wrists with her elegant hands.

“You’re sure?”

Cassian nodded, his throat too tight to speak. Lust blazed down his spine at being on the receiving end of Nesta’s mercy, and although he mostly meant to make her more comfortable, he couldn’t ignore the way his body sang with anticipation.

Nesta leaned backward and tugged at his pants, still bunched around his calves. Any questions died on his tongue when, after a few tugs, Nesta oriented toward him with the leather stays of his pants.

Clever woman, he thought. She made quick work of his wrists and tugged upward until Cassian assisted in lifting his hands toward the headboard. Securing what remained of the leather cord around the decorative spindle mounted at the bed’s center, Nesta took her time kissing a path from his wrist, down his forearm, over his bicep, and finally, taking his mouth in a savage, claiming kiss that made his cock throb.

Her hips picked up pace, and Cassian’s jaw dropped in silent groan. They dissolved into quiet moans, Nesta’s eager and almost possessive grip all over his body. Determination shone beautifully across her face in the low light of her room, but watching her blue eyes roll in pleasure threatened any rational thought.

Nesta’s movements turned desperate in her chase for release, and Cassian couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted his chin in invitation, relieved when she leaned forward heavily and pressed her lips to his.

Rocking his hips into her, he dragged her bottom lip between his teeth. “Let me,” he murmured, punctuating the point with another press of his hips. “I’ve got you.”

Nesta whimpered. Her forehead rested against his chin— the only sign of her concession she would give, he thought— before releasing a long, low moan and lowering to the center of his chest.

His movement was restricted by his pants, but he managed to press his feet into the mattress enough to allow himself the leverage to thrust deeper inside her. Nesta’s hips stilled and allowed him full control, muttering soft curses against his skin with each roll of his hips.

Release taunted him. The way Nesta’s breathing had picked up and her nails pressed into his skin indicated how imminent it was for her. Cassian pressed a rough kiss to her hair and slowed his pace, pulling out almost entirely and rolling slowing into her once more. It wasn’t the first time he’d fucked Nesta in such a way, one that had her gasping his name into the quiet room and the head of his cock teasing the delicate, sensitive tissue just inside her entrance.

“Come for me,” he ordered roughly against her temple. “Take me with you.”

With the first clench of her walls around him, Cassian was gone— a slave to Nesta’s scent, to the way her body moved over him, and how each syllable of his name became a curse and a prayer from her lips. He turned his face quickly into his bicep, sinking his teeth into the muscle to keep from crying out. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard. Truth be told, he was lucky he remembered his own name.

They lay there for several moments catching their breath. Sweat coated them both, but neither seemed to be in a hurry to move. Their time without risk of suspicions had likely run out minutes before, so one of them needed to take the initiative. Cassian decided it was enough to relax the savage grip he had on Nesta’s headboard and the leather stays, and they shared a chuckle at the way the wood creaked in relief. Perhaps he’d been holding on a bit tighter than he thought.

With a contented sigh, Nesta sat up and eased off of him to clean up. Cassian regretted the loss of her weight immediately, but she returned a minute later with a cool cloth in hand. The hem of her robe hanged close to the ground, and if the soft fabric hadn’t run the contours of her figure in such a satisfying way, the full coverage of the garment would have been downright criminal.

Nesta made quick work of releasing his hands and wrapped the cool cloth around each of his wrists to soothe the redness. It was unnecessary in Cassian’s opinion, but rejecting such an outward display of care from Nesta felt as safe as traveling a field riddled with snares.

“You know, the gauntlets will cover any marks.”

Nesta’s eyes slid to his, and his breath hitched. The barest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Maybe,” she conceded, her voice laced with dry humor. “Although, it seems poor form to send you on your way without making sure you’re alright.”

Cassian laughed, a rough chuckle in contrast to such an intimate moment. It was better that way. How his chest expanded, the warmth he felt— that road only led to impossible things, painful things.

Things he couldn’t help but want some nights, anyway.

Before he could conjure some sort of reply, Nesta reached for the leather stays and laced them loosely back into place to allow Cassian enough room to pull up his pants. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed to stand, tucking himself away and pretending he didn’t notice the way Nesta’s stare lingered. His attention was better fixed on the task at hand considering he needed to locate his tunic, wrestle with his flying leathers, and shove his feet back into his boots. The thought alone added a layer of fatigue to his loose, tired muscles.

He slid his tunic on and reached for his leathers, but Nesta’s voice interrupted. “Don’t you need to clean up? Won’t the others know?”

“I’d planned to clean-up in the bathroom near the room I’m staying in. No sense in leaving my scent behind in case your sister visits you here.”

Refocused, he made quick work of the many buckles on his flying gear. He wasn’t lying to Nesta with his answer. Every word was logical, rational— just as he’d intended. The hidden truth was that he couldn’t afford the potential intimacy of staying, couldn’t stomach the domesticity of it. The lines had been drawn in the sand many years ago by forces greater than themselves, and Cassian wasn’t the starry-eyed idealist that Rhys was. The wall represented far more than the division of land.

Nesta scoffed. “My sheets already smell of you. What’s the difference?”

Cassian finished tying his boots and stood to his full height. He walked slowly toward her, barely resisting the urge to reach out and tame a rogue strand of her hair. Or snap the ties of her robe. Either way.

Forcing his cockiest grin, he said, “Nothing, really.” He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “But the latter will have you thinking of me. It’s a risk I can justify.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and shoved him away, albeit half-heartedly. “I wonder how I’ll ever get the smell of gargoyle out of them. They may be better off burned.”

Cassian’s hand dropped to her waist, pulling her flush against him and kissing her greedily through his laughter. She kissed him with equal fervor, and it was a miracle he managed to pull himself away with any level of composure.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sweetheart.”

Her scowl had him biting the inside of his cheek as he took the several steps backward to the balcony doors. Nesta stayed rooted to her spot on the rug, those blue eyes locked up tight and giving nothing away.

She heaved a breath, crossing her arms. “I’ve told you not to call me that.”

The wind was chilly against his wings, and they twitched in anticipation of the flight.

“Maybe I’ll remember this time,” he teased. “Be sure to lock these—”

“I know how to secure my room, thank you,” she quipped.

Cassian backed away with his hands up in contrition. “Fair enough.”

He rolled his shoulders and turned to step onto the balcony’s stone ledge. He scanned the immediate perimeter and gauged the winds, but it was hard to tell if the thrumming under his skin had anything to do with either of them at all.

His wings flapped in assessment, and when he was satisfied with the conditions enough for take-off, he threw a knowing wink over his shoulder.

“Night, Nesta.”

A moment later, he was airborne. He swore he heard mutterings of “arrogant” and “brute” along the winds as if their loyalties insisted he was informed. Cassian chuckled, shaking his head back and forth.

Nothing he hadn’t heard before.

—

Flying laps to burn off steam had seemed like a decent idea— until he’d rounded the estate once and realized the bone-deep heaviness his body carried. It was enough to force himself to the proper landing and keep his feet nearly silent on his walk to the washroom.

Once he was properly clean, he dragged his body to his and Azriel’s room and crept quietly inside. Azriel was a terrible sleeper in his own quarters on the darkest night of the year, so Cassian didn’t have much room for error. And that was without consideration of how the dark favored Az in the first place. He glanced at Az’s sleeping form and breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed unaffected by his return.

With a grace uncharacteristic of his usual bedtime, Cassian peeled the blanket down the bed and settled against the sheet. He laid on his stomach to allow his wings adequate space and folded an arm beneath his pillow. The damned thing went flat under the weight of his head, and because his mind was occupied with all things Nesta, he almost heard a loaded comment about his head’s abnormal size.

A loud huff sounded in the room, and Cassian blinked against the darkness. It could have been his own breath with the way his head swam, but before he could embrace the false comfort of that theory, Azriel’s level voice rasped through the small space between their beds.

“You, brother,” he began, pausing to let out another breath, “have lost your damned mind.”

Perhaps it was his role as the Night Court’s Spymaster, but Az’s voice always held such cold calculation. It was soft and calm, yet loaded in a way that commanded focus. The image it conjured was something akin to a large swaddle of baby blankets, but upon folding back the corner, one found themselves looking at a bundle of daggers.

Cassian begrudged Azriel’s ability to be so careless with his breathing— for taking it for granted— when his own was lodged in his throat. Only his body’s involuntary panic forced air into his lungs seconds later. A million responses bounced around in his skull, and his tongue was prepared to fire off one that made the most sense when it finally landed.

His free hand moved to his face, his calluses making a rasping sound against the light stubble dusting his jaw. Cassian inhaled deeply and released it over several, controlled seconds. His hand continued its vigorous path over his eyes, cheeks, jaw, and provided some shallow illusion of comfort while he considered how to respond.

Care was required when talking to Azriel, mostly because Cassian never knew how much the asshole knew in the first place. For all he knew, Az thought he’d cut his duties short to fly over the human lands with minimal coverage. Either that, or despite his best efforts in cleaning up, the essence of his visit to Nesta’s room remained and sent Azriel’s shadows fluttering the moment he entered the room. But could he readily identify Cassian’s partner? Or did he assume him to be an impetuous, arrogant Male who took his risks in a local tavern?

Exhaustion settled into his bones, sending all his previous considerations into slow-floating splinters through his mind until they were a faint echo of good sense. The only cohesive thought he could muster rolled off his tongue, and he wasn’t naive to how much truth lay in two seemingly harmless words.

“I know.”

——————————————————————————

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[And, if I’ve left you off my list unintentionally, please don’t hesitate to remind me! No offense taken.]

Nessian taglist:

@agentsofsheilds

@and-she-burns-with-it

@bondbabe2000

@burningsnowleopard

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@duskandstarlight

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@valkyriewarriors

@wannawriteyouabook

[duskandstarlight]

Dessert

Omg omg this was a bloody treat to write—NO PUN INTENDED I AM NOT THAT FUNNY.

“You did not,” Nesta said in disbelief, every word a punctuated bullet.

Cassian couldn’t stop the satisfied smirk that toyed with his mouth. It often felt like it was his life mission to spark Nesta out of control, to unsteady her—mostly because when she was fired up like this, her irises rolling storms of blue, he never found her more attractive. “Oh, I did.”

Around them, the whole inner circle sat straight and poised, ready to jump between them. Apart from Elain, who just blinked. “Did you just lick whipped cream off of Nesta’s mouth?”

“Looked like a kiss to me,” Mor chirped, weighing in without warrant.

“It was not a kiss,” Nesta snapped, the fire in her expression blazing enough that Azriel’s shadows retreated back to hug his ears.

They whispered, whispered, whispered.

“Our first kiss,” Cassian crooned at Nesta. And because he knew he was a dead male anyway, he swiped his finger around her bowl, gathering cream and custard and traces of jelly. Popped it into his mouth and sucked.

When he leant closer to Nesta, there was an audible intake of breath around the table. Cassian felt Rhys’s magic rumbling at his fingertips, poised and ready.

But Nesta didn’t blast him with her power. She only grabbed for his hand and closed her lips around the tip of the scar-flecked finger that had just been in his own mouth.

Cassian’s heart gave a leap and then stopped entirely. His blood momentarily froze in his veins and then it rushed like a torrent to his groin. Even his wings snapped in tight as he watched, his jaw hanging open as Nesta’s cheeks hollowed, as her tongue swirled.

Then her mouth was gone and her body with it. A shriek sounded as her chair was pushed back and Nesta stood.

“Close your mouth, sweetheart,” Nesta snapped before she swept out of the room.

[talkfantasytome]

Prompt if you're taking any-

Nesta has a fear of needles but needs to get stitches or something (ik they have magic healing there but sjm's world building is never stable so I'm making a change of my own) and like Cassian comforts her or something (idk just want it fluffy and angsty really lol)

I imagine this to be post acosf but you can do whatever you want 😊

I'm doing this! 😄 About to post it, but since it's my first for Nessian week I wanted to give it its own post, but thank you SOOOO MUCH for this prompt! Really, I didn't love my original plan for Day 1, this was so much better! And it's the first piece I've written and completed in MONTHS. So go you! 💕

Here's the fic!

[moodymelanist]

A Nessian drabble idea: Cassian waking up from anesthesia forgetting who Nesta is and is immediately starts flirting with her because she's so beautiful.

omg YES. this is so them thank you for sending this in I’ve always wanted to write one of these. I’ve also never had my wisdom teeth removed so sorry for any inaccuracies there LOL

Nesta had been hanging out in the waiting room for about an hour when someone finally called her name.

“Nesta Archeron?” one of the nurses called. Nesta quickly gathered her jacket and purse and got up to follow her.

“How’s he doing?” Nesta asked. Cassian had finally taken the plunge and gotten all four of his wisdom teeth removed in one go, and while Nesta knew this was a routine enough procedure, she was still a little antsy about her husband using anesthesia.

“It went well,” the nurse replied, leading Nesta into what looked like the outpatient area. “He’s recovering now. The anesthesia should be wearing off in the next few minutes if it hasn’t already.”

The nurse ran through a list of symptoms to watch out for and general tips to help Cassian’s healing process. Even though Nesta knew she’d be getting a thick packet with all these instructions, she still did her best to commit them to memory. This was her husband they were talking about; she wasn’t going to take any risks with him.

By the time the nurse finished explaining everything, they’d made it inside Cassian’s recovery room. He looked a little funny with his cheeks all swollen and a bandage wrapped around his face, but Nesta was too glad everything had gone well to really make fun of him.

That didn’t stop her from snapping a picture, though. Just because she didn’t intend to use it to tease him later didn’t mean she didn’t want one.

“Hey,” Nesta said softly as Cassian’s eyes fluttered open. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey,” Cassian said back, drawing out the word long and slow. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” she managed to reply without laughing. He was clearly still feeling the anesthesia, and she was going to enjoy him being loopy for as long as it lasted. “You ready to go home?”

“With you?” he asked, his face lighting up.

“Of course with me,” she responded with a fond roll of her eyes.

“It must be my lucky day,” he answered, trying to pull his lips into a smirk and failing miserably. “Going home with the most gorgeous woman in here.”

“We go home together every night, you idiot,” she told him with a huff of laughter. “We live together.”

“Then I guess it’s my lucky night every night,” he fired back, though some of the effect was lost by how drowsy he sounded.

Nesta and the nurse exchanged amused glances before they started to prep to get him out of there. Thankfully Cassian was still dressed, so they just had to get him to stand so he could sit back down again in the wheelchair.

“Come on, big guy,” Nesta said, pulling the blankets back from Cassian so he could get out the bed. “Time to come home with me.”

“But…” Cassian trailed off, his face twisting into the most adorable pout as he caught sight of her left hand. “You’re married.”

She stared at him a little incredulously. Was he fucking with her, or was this just the anesthesia? “Yes?”

“I’ve been flirting with a married woman,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to his face and immediately regretting it. “Oh, God, I’m a homewrecker.”

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered under her breath, trying and failing to hold back her laughter. She gently pulled his hands away from his face and tapped the matching gold band on his left hand before raising her voice to add, “Cassian, look. You’re married too.”

“That’s even worse,” he groaned once he noticed his own wedding band. “Holy fuck. I’m a homewrecker and a cheater.”

“No, you doofus,” she replied, still laughing. “We’re married to each other.”

Cassian’s face looked like Christmas had come early. “Really?”

“Really,” Nesta confirmed. “It’ll be six years this October.”

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, completely awed. He reached out and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together with a dopey look on his face. “Let’s go home, then.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen | @talibunny30 | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @fieldofdaisiies

[sadiegirl2021]

Prompt: Domestic Life

@gwynrielweeksofficial

Gwyn, sitting on Azriel’s lap while he feeds her grapes: You’re so sweet.

Azriel: Because you’re the best.

Gwyn: No, you’re the best!

Azriel: No, you are! *Tickling Gwyn’s side, causing her to giggle*

Sitting across the table, Cassian is shovelling porridge into his mouth while Nesta scowls at the happy couple.

Nesta: It’s all love and kisses now. Give it six months!

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

In the spirit of the Holidays, I will be writing & posting short stories about the ACOTAR characters for the next 12 days. Please note that some will be shorter than others and that this is simply meant to be a fun time for everyone that loves these characters as much as I do!

PS. I'm open to requests.

AO3

1st day of Christmas - Christmas Decorating

New Traditions (Modern Elriel AU)

Living with Elain Archeron, Azriel had found, implied a great many things. For starters, there wasn’t a windowsill that wasn’t peppered with colourful vases, the leaves green and luscious all year around. The kitchen, now covered in all kinds of baking supplies he couldn’t even begin to name, was constantly in such a state of disarray that the simple task of getting a glass of water easily turned into a hefty task. He couldn’t complain – not when every day he was greeted by a different kind of pastry his girlfriend was eagerly trying for the first time.

These, however, were details Azriel had been expecting when he first asked Elain to move in with him. What he hadn’t expected, however, was the sight of the enormous garland covered in berries, orange slices and small pinecones, hanging on their front door. Nor did he expect the tiny, chubby snowman sitting on it, staring at him with unwarranted joy. Azriel scowled.

It was the first day of December.

He opened the door, briefly wondering if Bing Crosby’s voice was crooning from their neighbour’s living room and not theirs. If the sweet voice singing along wasn’t his girlfriend’s – who couldn’t possibly be decorating on the 1st day of December – and belonged to Mrs. Allis instead.

Such wishful thinking was short-lived.

The house, Azriel noticed, smelled distinctively of ginger and cinnamon, and the wooden table in the foyer, usually covered in random knickknacks and their house keys, now sported entirely too many candles and a knitted reindeer wearing a Christmas sweater, welcoming him home with an innocent smile. Azriel settled his keys next to it, feeling oddly disturbed.

Azriel eyed the kitchen with concern. He wouldn’t go in – not yet at least – but he could glimpse Elain’s baking supplies on the counter, as well as a plate filled with red velvet brownies. Azriel swallowed a groan, fighting the urge to eat one – Elain knew how much he loved red velvet, but this felt premeditated. It felt like a bribery. 

He kept walking, following the sound of Elain’s voice as he pointedly ignored the gingerbread house kit on the kitchen table (and the fact it remained unopened). Apprehension coursed through his body as he eyed the mistletoe hanging in the archway leading to the living room. As it was, Azriel usually decorated on the week before Christmas, and that was if Cassian nagged him enough that he’d just give up and put up whatever crappy decorations he had gotten throughout the years (read an old, plastic Christmas tree and a few random Christmas ball that didn’t really look good together). Azriel rarely spent Christmas in his own house, so it had never made much sense to decorate in the first place.

Elain, however, clearly had different plans.

Sure, this was their first Christmas together, but he couldn’t say he had expected this much…dedication on her part.

Azriel stopped in his tracks just as he reached the living room, eyes widening as he took in every single detail. Their once cosy living room was no longer. Their couch, a beige, dull thing by default, was covered in a fuzzy, checkered blanket, white pillows dotting its cushions. The usually empty mantelpiece was now covered by a green garland, dotted with fairy lights. Hanging from it, two stockings – one with an A stitched into it, the other with an E (if he seemed to smile at the sight of it, it was purely a muscle spasm).

He fought the urge to groan, side-eyeing the checkered blanket with horror once again. At least, he thought, there were no knitted animals in the living room.

Needless to say, he wasn’t entirely convinced on the Christmas decorations.

His girlfriend, however, was a sight to behold. He crossed his arms, fighting to not let his amusement show as he watched her. Even in her pyjamas and frowning at the tangled Christmas lights in her hands, Elain was lovely. Her cheeks were slightly pink, lips pursed in concentration as she appeared to fight the knotted mess in front of her (it seemed to Azriel she was losing, but he refrained from commenting on it). There was an old Christmas hat on her head, one Azriel faintly recalled taking home from one of Cassian’s holiday parties. It was entirely too big on her head, but it only made her all the more charming.

She was sitting on the floor, right next to a very tall, very bare Christmas tree. More boxes littered the floor around her, but Elain remained humming, unconcerned and completely unaware of Azriel’s presence in front of her.

Azriel hated to ruin her peace, but the checkered blanket seemed to mock him from the couch. He cleared his throat, face stoic ever as Elain yelped and looked up, eyes widening as she blushed.

“You’re home!” She greeted, standing up as she unceremoniously dropped the Christmas lights on the floor. Azriel raised an eyebrow, watching her as she turned down the volume of the music.

“What are you doing?” He asked, briefly wondering if this was one of those times Nesta had accused him of taking himself too seriously. Whatever that meant.

Elain, however, wasn’t deterred by his seriousness. She smiled prettily. “Decorating.”

Azriel made a show of raising both eyebrows. “It’s the 1st of December.”

“Yes.” She simply said, as if that explained everything.

“It’s the first of December.” He said again, not sure she had heard him correctly the first time.

“I’m aware.” She said, pushing the beanie away from her eyes. She did look adorable. “I’m in a festive mood. I wanted to do some light decorating.”

“Light?” He was vaguely aware he sounded like a crabby old man. Elain was too if the twitch in her lips was any indication. “Isn’t this all too much?” He still asked, eyeing the blanket.

He truly didn’t like that thing.

Elain blinked. Then she blinked again, taking in their living room. The couch, the tree, the mantle garland. Then she frowned. “Are you messing with me?”

Azriel scoffed. “Why would I be messing with you?” He took a step in her direction and Elain eyed him suspiciously. “There’s a gingerbread house in our kitchen.”

“No, there’s a gingerbread house kit in our kitchen.” She explained very slowly. “We’re going to build it together.”

“No, we’re not.” He chuckled, but his smile quickly fell away at her raised eyebrows. “We are?” He asked, frowning even as she walked towards him, a pretty smile on her lips.

“We are.” Elain said, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him down as she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “But I made you red velvet brownies as a reward.” She whispered.

Azriel groaned, pressing his head against her neck, making her squeal as his beard tickled her skin. “You can’t distract me with brownies.”

“Are you sure?”

Azriel chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist as he pushed the Christmas hat away from her eyes. “I am.”

“Well, can I distract you with something else?” She asked, her fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. Azriel hummed, pressing his nose against her neck, taking her in for the first time in hours. He was almost distracted. Almost.

“Can we at least get rid of that blanket?”

Elain frowned, eyeing the couch. “What’s wrong with the blanket?”

Well, its very existence was wrong, in his opinion, and he opened his mouth to say just that.

“Nesta gave it to me.”

He promptly closed his mouth. The blanket was staying, then. Mother’s tits.

He cleared his throat. “And the tree?” He asked instead, trying to swiftly change the subject. Elain eyed with him a cheeky smirk, making it clear she was fully aware she had won the fight before it even begun.

Gods, he loved her.

“Were you going to start decorating it now?”

“Oh, well. No.” Elain turned shy, chuckling nervously. “I actually wanted to decorate it with you.”

“Right.” He nodded. “On the 1st of December?” He asked. Just to be sure. Elain chuckled, playfully pushing him away even as he tightened his hold around her.

She looked at the tree, avoiding his eyes. “I just wanted to give you a new tradition.” She shrugged. “Our own tradition.”

Oh. Oh.

He was an absolute fool.

Azriel looked at her, his heart beating wildly inside his chest. “You did, love?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “If you want to, that is.”

It was all he could do not to drop to his knees and show her exactly how much he did.

He kissed her instead, his tongue seeking hers, his hands roaming around her body. He groaned at the taste of her, urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Elain smiled against his lips.

“Is that a yes?” She asked, gasping as his hands found her ass.

“How could I ever say no to you?” And little did she know how much he really meant it.

Which would explain why, merely hours later, Azriel could be found wearing a stupid Christmas hat, ignoring the stupid checkered blanket, and helping Elain put up the last of the ornaments on the too big Christmas tree. And if he had a smile on his face…

Well, that had everything to do with the girl in his arms.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

But I'm Only Looking At You: Chapter Masterlist

Main Pairing: Nesta Archeron/Cassian

Summary:

Cassian has been in love with Nesta Archeron for years and hopes to one day ask for her hand. But when Cassian learns that Nesta is set to marry the Viscount Tomas Mandray, he's ready and willing to do anything to stop it, including doing something very very stupid.

Aka a Regency AU inspired by Taylor Swift's Speak Now

Read on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Epilogue

[theladyofdeath]

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

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

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

But then he found it.

The pregnancy test.

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

Pregnant.

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

"Cass."

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

He turned to face her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah."

"We're having a baby."

She laughed. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was too damn happy.

[elliemarchetti]

the alphabet of flowers prompt list

Maybe one day I'll write down all the great ideas behind this list, but for now I'll leave it here, at the mercy of Tumblr users. Feel free to request any flower, combo or bouquet for all the characters, ships and fandoms you find in the tags and of course let me know if something sparks your imagination!

Edit: adding a link to every prompt I complete as we speak

a.      Agapanthus – Love Letter

b.      Basil – Hate

c.      Cactus – Passionate Love [blackinnon]

d.      Daphne - I Wouldn't Want You Any Other Way

e.      Echinacea – Strength and Health

f.       Fern – Sincerity

g.      Gardenia – Sophistication

h.      Hibiscus – Delicate Beauty

i.       Iberid – Indifference

j.      Jasmine – Amiability [elucien]

k.     Kalanchoe – Persistence and Eternal Love

l.      Lantana – Strictness

m.    Magnolia – Dignity [elriel]

n.     Narcissus – New Beginnings

o.     Orchid – Refined Beauty

p.     Peony – Anger

q.     Quince – Perseverance During Adversity

r.      Rose – Love

s.     Sage – Good Health and Long Life

t.     Trillium – Modest Beauty

u.     Ursinia – Trickery

v.      Vervain – Pray For Me

w.     Waterlily – Birth and Resurrection

x.      Xeranthemum – Eternity and Immortality

y.      Yellow Bell – Rebirth

z.      Zinnia – Lasting Affection

[theladyofbloodshed]

i have one chapter left of lucnes fic then i'd wager 5/6 of nezriel fic then i am free

[writtenonreceipts]

I was bored, so I made a list of prompts.  Feel free to reblog and use for your fics or other stories!

Random Angsty Prompts

Warnings: some might include references to blood/death/grief

I believe in you.  I always have.  Maybe that’s my fatal flaw.

I never forgot you. I couldn’t.

After everything, how could you not trust me?

I wanted this to end differently.

There was only one way this could go.

I miss you, more than I thought possible.

You never did trust me, did you?

They were proud of you, even if they never said it.

How many times have we said good-bye?

This is the last good-bye.

I thought you loved me.

I thought I loved you.

There was too much blood loss, I’m sorry.

There was an accident, [Person] is in the hospital.

They aren’t going to wake up, are they?

You’re not listening to me!

You’re the last person I thought would hurt me.

I’m sorry, I forgot.

I just wanted to say I’m sorry.

Would you lie to me? If it meant that I wouldn’t find out?

I forgot you were like this.

Do you think you could ever forgive me?

[You/He/She/They] swore no one would find out.

They never forget a thing.

I made a mistake.

It’s my fault that this happened.

Forgetting will never get easier.

If you go through with this, you’ll be giving up everything you’ve ever known.

Would you please just listen to me?

I hate remembering.

I’m doing the best I can.  Can you say the same?

You lied to me? // I had to.

Do you really think I’m capable of this?

If I remember correctly, you never came for me.

I thought you left.

You left me.

I know you’re there, open the door.

I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.

You carry the weight of death with you everyday.

Take me back.  I don’t want to be here.

Don’t worry, I’ll take this to my grave.

Stop holding back, I can take it.

I didn’t want this.

What happened to you?

Well, you have everything figured out, don’t you.

There’s no more time left.

Just give me a minute!

I can figure this out.

Please, let’s try and make this work.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

[He/She/They] are still in surgery, no updates.

Where are you hurt?

It’s just a bruise, nothing more.

It was an accident, I swear.

They’re delirious.

This might hurt, okay?

I tried calling you.  A few times actually.

You need to eat something.

Is that blood?

When was the last time you ate?

Just keep looking at me.

I brought you some food, I thought you would like it.

There are some things a person should never experience.  This is one of them.

When did you start lying to me?

I need to do this, why can’t you see that?”

I know this is difficult // I never said it was.

So?  Make me your villain.  Everyone else does.

You were never going to be my hero.

I had no choice. // There’s always a choice. // If you believe that, you’re far too naïve.

Forgiveness is a weakness, you taught me that.

I never much liked the dark.

I’m allowed to be scared.

Don’t let this break you.

When will you let this go?

Everything I’ve done has been for you.

Life isn’t a fairy-tale.

You were my best friend.

Why can’t you just listen to me?

Please, just let me forget you.

You’re the one who made it personal

[thewayshedreamed]

"Shut up and hold me"

for nessian please

Surprise, love! I've been working on this one on and off and finally got it where I wanted it I think. Hope you enjoy some sweet Nessian period fluff from yours truly.

Shout-out to @duskandstarlight for brainstorming this with me many moons ago!

Word count: ~1k

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

Cassian hated to see Nesta in pain. It wasn't exactly a vacation to be the one in said pain, but Nesta was used to the monthly ritual. She resented the first couple of days of her period, knowing they would forever be the worst of it.

Her boyfriend never habituated to it; when she curled in on herself, clutching a hot water bottle to her abdomen. For the most part, she wasn't one to moan or whine; not until Cassian fussed over her so much that he reminded her of a bird locked in a small room.

She had a threshold for his fussing, and she learned long ago that he’d figured her out. After so many years together, one typically channeled in on the other's patterns, and Cassian knew that Nesta tolerated about three acts of caregiving before she was snapping at him to sit nearby. He was mission-oriented, and the blunt order was enough to have him parked on the sofa with her.

Sometimes, he sat as close as he could manage and rubbed soothing circles over her stomach or lower back. Other times, he wedged his hulking frame between Nesta and the back of the couch to press his warmth into her. Either that, or he was trying to take her pain away, if the way he clutched her against him was any indication. As effective as he was in reducing her misery, a large part of the whole production was a comfort to Cassian. When he was presented with a loved one in pain, he needed to know he was of use just as much as the other needed the care.

It was one of those days that leveled her, and she braced herself for their ritual when she heard Cassian's key slide into the lock. Nesta clutched the throw pillow tighter to her stomach, stifling a groan at the growing tenderness.

"Hey Nes," Cassian called out, shaking the snow from his coat and hanging it on the hook. "How was your—"

His voice stopped suddenly, and his heavy footsteps approached where she lay on the couch. "Nesta, are you okay?"

She opened her eyes to find him kneeling before her, his perceptive gaze fixed on her face. They moved briefly to scan over her body and understanding washed over his features. To Nesta’s surprise, he pulled his phone from his pocket to glance at the date. His lips pressed into a firm line, and he offered a subtle, confirmatory nod to the screen. His hunch was confirmed, apparently.

"What can I get you?"

Nesta groaned. "A swift death?"

Warmth spread through her at the sound of his laugh, and the familiar comfort of it nearly brought a tear to her eye. "I'm vetoing that one. What about a heating pad?"

"Fine."

His steps thudded away, only for them to be retraced moments later. Cassian muttered a curse at the outlet being out of reach behind the couch. Without warning, he lifted the corner to move it away from the wall by several inches. Tension lined each of Nesta’s muscles at the sudden jostling, soothed by Cassian’s deep, quiet voice.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. The cord wouldn’t reach anywhere else. I’ll get you comfortable, okay?”

Nesta nodded, her irritation mounting. Part of it was due to his fussing, no matter how well she predicted it. The other part of it was with herself in realizing she was the one who desperately craved Cassian’s physical affection, his warmth and his doting. She had artfully convinced herself that she humored Cassian by allowing him to be a true mother hen that it disoriented her to rely so heavily on his comfort.

That didn’t mean she planned to deviate from their usual routine, if only to preserve some shred of dignity.

Cassian moved with practiced ease in rearranging the couch cushions to Nesta’s usual specifications. His hands were gentle when they turned to the button of her jeans, just barely easing the heating pad up her abdomen for better access. Shimmying her out of them, he tossed them on the chair nearby and grabbed a soft throw blanket from the basket nearby of Nesta’s favorites.

She groaned, shifting the heating pad back into its home for the foreseeable future. Cassian draped the blanket over her legs and stood to his full height.

“I’ll get you some water, maybe a snack. I’ll be right—”

Nesta took the offer for the opportunity it was. She’d officially held up her end of their little charade, and her patience waned with a savage quickness.

“Stop fussing,” she ordered, her tone firm but with less of a bite than usual. She didn’t have it in her. “Just— shut up and hold me.”

Cassian’s eyes softened, his sharp features morphing into unfiltered adoration. Nesta reminded herself of her blessings that such a man read between her harsh lines and saw the nuance beneath— that a man like Cassian loved her to madness.

“Alright,” he conceded, toeing off his shoes and removing his belt.

He stripped down to his boxer-briefs and his black undershirt, and Nesta took a moment to take him in. There was no heat behind the look, only a pure, objective appreciation of beauty. And the solid mass that was about to serve as her own personal furnace.

“Make some room for me,” he murmured.

Nesta wiggled pitifully toward the edge to make room for Cassian to slide onto the couch behind her. He was careful not to disturb her position as much as possible, and in return, Nesta bit her tongue when he failed. His effort was admirable enough.

Cassian settled his weight and tucked his arm beneath her neck, using it to cradle her head with his bicep and forearm. The other angled over her waist to pull her flush against him. Nesta melted against him, taking his scent into her lungs and allowing his body heat to ease her tension.

He tucked his fingers between her hip and the couch to keep his hold as stable and snug as possible. The likelihood that they slept that way was high, and he didn’t dare risk her rolling to the carpet. Nesta could only imagine how insufferable he’d become as a result.

No matter how entwined they were, it never felt close enough. Nesta moved her legs to lace with his, and in response, Cassian tucked his cheek against the crown of her head. Coccooned properly against him, she timed her breaths with his until blissful oblivion took them both.

[duskandstarlight]

One word prompt writing challenge

I feel like being creative and that means Nessian.

Send me an anon with one word (just one) and I’ll work it into a short paragraph or two, inspired by ACOTAR’s best couple (read Nessian)…

[julemmaes]

prompt for nessian: nesta and gwyn come to pick up emerie from a frat party (idk why) but the only way for them to leave is for nesta and gwyn to beat eris and balthazar at beer pong. cassian wants to tell eris to fuck off but nesta has it handled

The way I've been playing with this prompt in my head since you sent it it's embarrassing. The amount of ideas I got for this, stop me rn

Also I posted another Nessian lil thingie yesterday night in case you missed it

Word count: ~2.3k

The loud music coming from inside the frat house was making the windows shake and the faint rumble of the glass had Nesta grimace in disgust. 

She didn't hate drunk people, she certainly loved music and she'd have kissed someone's feet if there was even the slight chance they could free her from the awful torment that finals week was just so she could freely attend a well-organized party. But frats, on the other hand. 

There had been a time during her first year where Greek row had been her home, she'd lived and breathed their parties, made pacts with the devils—only to be brutally rejected by everyone she'd called a friend after she broke up with her ex.

Nesta hated frats, despised them. And it was personal.

Reaching behind her and taking Gwyn's hand in hers in a silent agreement not to let go, she walked right into the beast's den, welcoming the stench of testosterone, alcohol and smoke. 

The air was stifling and the heat was already making her sweat. The floors were sticky and Nesta remembered all the mornings she'd been put on cleaning duty.

Entering the wide living room, she went up on her toes, searching the faces for a familiar one that didn't give her shivers.

Emerie had texted them that her dd had bailed on her and left her behind and she was lucky both Nesta and Gwyn had been studying in the library and not already asleep. 

But she wasn't picking up her calls and Nesta was getting antsy, so here they were.

"Let's check the backyard!" Gwyn shouted over the music after looking for Emerie in all the rooms. 

A few people in passing said hi to them, even seeming surprised to see her in the house. Nesta didn't stop for a single one of them, she just wanted to get her friend and leave.

The moment they walked out back, fresh air hit her face and she took a deep breath. The music was somewhat muffled here and only a few small groups where outside, chilling as the party was coming to an end.

"C'mon, Ems, you told me you'd play with me tonight. You can't leave." 

The sentence snapped her attention to the pool, where Eris Vanserra was standing next to Emerie, blocking her way. 

From their standing point, Nesta could perfectly see her friend's face when it crumbled into utter revulsion. 

"Oh boy, did you just call me Ems?" She asked, scoffing. "Do I look like an ambulance to you?" 

Gwyn snorted next to Nesta as they started walking towards the pair. 

Eris' laugh made Nesta irrationally furious, but nothing compared to what his next words roused.

"Listen, you made a promise. You're not leaving until you beat me."

Oh, fuck no. 

Nesta was almost to them, ready to push the fucker into the water and be done with whatever the fuck this was, but someone else piped in. 

A low, gravelly voice, belonging to the man of the hour. It was hard not to recognize his timbre when he personally invited the entire university to attend his team's games every other hour through the speakers scattered across their campus. 

"Leave the girl alone, Van Boy. You sound a word closer to a restraining order." 

Nesta's eyebrows shot up. Cassian Navarro helping her friend out against his teammate wasn't in her 2023 bingo card. 

He was sitting on the benches around the stone brazier, some other recognizable faces with him. He had an arm on the back of his seat, his head turned back to look at their small circle.

"Thanks, cap, but I've got this." Eris sounded annoyed by Cassian pitching in and Nesta relished in it.

Emerie laughed, shaking her head. "You so don't, and I will throat punch you if you don't move out of my way. I wanna leave." 

Eris grinned, "Your friend left you here, isn't that right?" 

Nesta was one second away from stepping in, but, if she had to be completely honest, this little theater play was unfurling quite amusingly. Plus, she knew Emerie could hold her own. 

"Cut the bs, Vanserra," Morrigan Nevin, honorable the cheer squad, stood up, crossing her arms on her chest. She nodded towards Nesta and Gwyn and said, "And Little Miss Archeron over there looks ready to fight, so I'd recommend you let her friend leave and call it a night."

All eyes turned on her in a beat. She wasn't surprised Morrigan knew her name. After all, her younger sister had just started college and from what little they'd shared, Feyre seemed to be fitting right into this crowd. 

Nesta's eyes though—treacherous fuckers they were—landed perfectly on Cassian. He, too, was staring at her and, with a cheeky smile, he lifted his hand in greeting. She pressed her lips together.

Eris faced her then, his mouth curling even more at her dead serious expression. 

"Look what the cat dragged in," he mused. "Hadn't seen you in a hot minute, thought you'd stopped whoring down Greek Row a while ago." 

Gwyn stepped forward, her face red with immediate anger. "Fuck you, you don't know what you're talking about." 

Nesta loved her friends, she truly did, but this piece-of-shit-no-one didn't deserve their time or attention. 

"Em, let's go." 

Emerie stepped around Eris and he didn't say anything as she neared the pair. Didn't even glance at her, only kept staring at Nesta.

They were about to turn around and leave when Eris spoke again.

"You used to party with us all the time. Guess Tomas really did fuck you up, at least that's how the rumor has it." 

Nesta stopped walking and glared daggers into him and she was seething when she spit at him, "I never partied with you. Even when I hang out with the scum that Tomas' close group is, I wasn't stooping as low as you." 

Eris' face dropped. And Nesta wasn't done talking. 

"They might all be assholes who don't give a shit about anyone but themselves, but they would have never held someone from leaving a party cause they can't find a better pastime." 

"Your friend made a promise," his stupid reply was.

Nesta glanced at Emerie, who shrugged and rolled her eyes at the sky, "I told him I'd play beer pong with him at the end of the party if he left me the fuck alone." 

She turned back on Eris, her face mockingly pitiful. "Can't find any friends unless you coerce people into spending time with you?"

"Aw, poor thing," Gwyn deadpanned.

"A promise is a promise."

"Fucking hell, Eris." Cassian called, "why do you always have to be so difficult?" 

"They're just afraid they're gonna lose. It's a simple request to play a game. Don't understand why it got all of you so worked up." 

Afraid? To lose at beer pong? 

Nesta knew she was playing right into his mind game, but she was stressed out because of finals, fed up with the way he'd treated her friend and she could've used the satisfaction that came with knocking him down a few pegs.

"Okay," Nesta said, "let's play."

Eris smiled, content that he was getting what he wanted. 

She jerked her head toward the house. "Go set the table." 

Cassian Navarro had stood up in the meantime, he'd walked closer to them and was now nearing her, his eyes fixated on her face. Nesta was—for whatever reason—excited about the prospect of him talking to her. She was waiting for it like one waited to get to the plot twist of a book.

She hadn't even noticed Eris walking inside, nor Morrigan joining Cassian, not until Emerie pulled on her elbow.

"Great move, now let's get out of here." 

Nesta jerked towards her friends, confused. "What? No, I wanna play."

Gwyn frowned, "Why?"

"He said we were afraid to lose."

Emerie snickered, eyes wide. 

"You're nuts, Nes. Let's just leave." 

"You know," his voice rumbled through her head. Nesta tensed marginally. He sounded so close. "You can go, you don't really have to play against him. He's just a harmless dickhead."

She spun on her heels slowly, tilting her head back to be able to look into his eyes, assessing his neck and the tattoos peeking from his shirt.

The silence stretched for seconds, minutes, hours before she found the words. She could only muster a sure whisper, his vicinity affecting her way more than she liked to admit.

"I have this under control, don't worry. And I honestly wanna play." 

Cassian's mouth opened in a sweet smile and his eyes didn't move from hers as he gestured for them to lead the way. His entire group had gotten up and now the ten of them walked inside the house. 

Nesta heard Morrigan talk to Emerie, ask if she was okay and found herself smiling lightly at the flirty response her friend gave the blonde. Give it to Emerie to look for a hookup at this moment. 

A significant amount of people had left the party and now only the fraternity boys and whoever they were gonna fuck tonight were sitting on the sofas and the floor. The music had died down and someone was ushering the remaining partygoers outside, someone else screaming about cheating boyfriends and fucking alcohol.

They reached the ping pong table in the hall, only a couple making out in the corner of the room. 

Nesta and Emerie stood at one end of the table. 

Balthazar Saraiva sauntered to the opposite side of the table, winking at both the girls like they'd been friends forever.

Nesta breathed out a laugh. She was going to destroy them. 

"What rules are we playing with? Bounce, no bounce? Who dunks can continue playing or we taking turns?" Emerie asked. 

"No bouncing, only direct shots. And we're taking turns." Eris replied. 

Nesta nodded, humming. 

An imposing figure stood next to her, like a giant statue. His arms crossed over his chest made his muscles look bigger and Nesta would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that it was distracting. 

"Ladies first," Eris drawled, "I'm giving you the starting advantage."

"No need," Nesta smirked and took the shot, dunking the ball on the first try. Eris stopped smiling. 

Cheering broke around them, but Nesta only heard the satisfied comment from Cassian, his glimmering eyes on her. 

"Atta girl." 

She couldn't have stopped the shy smile from spreading even if she'd tried.

The game went on shortly. Eris was missing every shot he could, getting purposely distracted by Azriel Behar and Rhysand Almeda. The two guys were really putting so much effort into making it difficult for him, walking behind him every time he had to shoot or calling out to him at the least appropriate moment.

Nesta would have asked them to stop in any other circumstances, wanting an honest and clean win, but seeing the way it was working Eris up, she couldn't bring herself to. 

They won the game in less than five minutes, Emerie only missing one shot, and when Gwyn came behind them and lifted both of them up in an improvised victory dance, Nesta felt lighter. 

Emerie smacked a kiss on her cheek and then started screaming profanities at Eris. 

"Looks like you need the ems now, uh? Cause you definitely got burned!"

Nesta cringed as everyone around them started laughing. 

She'd already been somewhat tipsy and chugging the four cups of beer Balthazar had managed to dunk had pushed her into drunk territory. Always the lightweight, their dark skinned friend. 

Gwyn dropped her to the floor again and as she laughed carefree at the ceiling, someone touched her arm. 

She turned quickly to her left, lifting her gaze up, up and up, until warm brown eyes met hers. 

"I get it you're driving?" 

The question took her by surprise. She frowned, nodding skeptically.

Cassian cleared his throat, scratching his cheek. He almost looked… nervous. "Then I guess my plan to offer you a drink is bound to fail."

Her face relaxed, she forced her lips to stay put, her eyes to not widen. He was looking at her expectantly, waiting for a reply. 

"I—" her voice came out scratchy. "Yes, sorry. Driving." 

She couldn't utter a fully formed sentence, apparently, but he seemed amused by it.

"Raincheck, then? Maybe Friday night?" 

Nesta was on cloud 9. What the fuck was happening right now? 

"Like a date?" 

Cassian smiled, "We can call it whatever you like, sweetheart." 

Nesta sobered up at that. She shook her head. "Don't call me that, that's for sure." 

His interest only grew with those words and Nesta saw the challenge flash behind his eyes.

"So, what do you say? Drink with me on Friday night?" 

Nesta studied his face a beat longer, trying to gauge his real intention. Was he playing with her? She was literally wearing sweatpants and a stained sweatshirt. And yes, she knew she was still beautiful in library attire with no makeup whatsoever, but he'd only spoken to her twice in the four years they'd attended college. 

And Nesta, well, she remembered that first time pretty vividly. She simply didn't want to dwell on it, because she knew it wasn't the same on his side. It had to be that way. 

Cassian's smile faltered. He took a step back, drawing a tight breath in. 

"Forget I asked." He whispered, still loud enough to be heard over the noise of their friends shitting on Eris in the background. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable–" 

"Yes." Nesta interrupted him, closing the distance again. "Yes, I'll come out with you on Friday. For drinks." 

Cassian reeled back, surprised. His smile came back full force and he nodded once. 

She nodded back, offering a weak smile in turn. She could do this. She just needed to hold back the excitement until she was in the car with her friends. 

He looked at her, running a hand through his long hair, and sighed. 

"I'll come pick you up then. At 9." 

"Sounds good, I live–"

He grinned, "Oh, don't worry, I remember."

Nesta's lips parted. 

His smile widened. 

He remembered. 

acotar taglist (if you wanna be removed or added just dm me or send an ask)

@my-fan-side @superspiritfestival @simpingfornestaarcheron @the-regal-warrior @live-the-fangirl-life @sayosdreams @rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @bookstantrash @lordof-bloodshed @nahthanks @sannelovesreading @courtofjurdan @imagine-me @moodymelanist @dread3r @sv0430 @mariamuses @leiawritesstories @thewayshedreamed @duskandstarlight @letstakethedawn @perseusannabeth

[moodymelanist]

Is There A Problem, Officer?

happy day 6 of @nestaarcheronweek, and happy birthday Nesta! I hope you all enjoy this… not so quiet birthday party 😉

Summary: Nesta wanted to celebrate her twenty-sixth birthday quietly, but her friends had… other ideas.

Word Count: 3k

♕♕♕♕♕

Nesta

“Happy birthday, Nesta!” Elain and Feyre said in unison as Nesta opened her townhouse door.

“Thank you,” Nesta replied, pleased to see her sisters. Elain had come bearing cake and Feyre had come bearing alcohol, both of them just as welcome as her sisters’ faces. “And thanks for coming.”

Nesta was turning twenty-six today, and instead of going out and getting drunk with her friends, she’d decided to do something a little more lowkey. She’d quickly learned twenty-five was the age her body had decided to turn on her, and she wasn’t exactly keen to repeat the vicious hangover she’d survived last year.

So instead of getting all dressed up and hitting the town, she’d decided to do something much more relaxed. She’d invited her sisters and some close friends over to order in some food, drink some wine, and otherwise have a good time ringing in Nesta’s birthday. Everyone had been more than willing to go along with it — even Feyre, who was always chomping at the bit to do something more exciting — but Nesta had been looking forward to seeing the people she cared about too much to really question it.

“Like we’d miss your birthday,” Feyre replied as she and Elain walked inside, somehow managing to shut the door behind her without dropping anything. “Even if it’s not as exciting as last year.”

“Sorry I don’t want to spend the next morning puking my guts out again,” Nesta answered as they made their way to the kitchen, rolling her eyes. Feyre’s boyfriend at the time had been surprisingly willing to come take care of her, so she’d been spared most of the aftermath.

“As the person holding your hair back, I’m a big fan of your decision,” Elain agreed with a little laugh. “No offense, Nesta.”

“None taken,” Nesta responded, snorting. She helped Feyre and Elain unload their goodies and the three of them took a few minutes to properly arrange everything on the counter. “Okay, that’s fine for now. Come say hi to everyone else.”

Keep reading on AO3 here!

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