#nessian drabble

[g00seg1rl]

Background

A Modern AU Nessian drabbly yap based on a meme I can’t find anymore lol

Nesta had noticed Cass’s affinity for keeping YouTube on in the background while he ate. And by affinity, she generously means he ritualistically eats with some commentator or reactionary channel. A few months in he revealed how arduous it was to sit in relative silence on dates, hardly a flattering thing to hear. She’s always found it to be a bit of a con (again, being generous), until she discovered the life hack that was leaving a forty minute video essay low on her belly and watching Cassian feast.

The method came to her as she came on Cassian’s tongue for the third time while the noise persisted from Cass eating his Dino Nuggies at dinner. He nearly pulled away because the run time completed so she chose another and rested his phone above her pelvis, whatever Reddit review now in Cass’s eyesight and keeping him lost and focused on lapping against her clit. Ever since that fateful day, Nesta or Cassian’s cell would frequently end up on her bare stomach, goading Cass with spread legs and long scripts.

Thank you for reading, I hope we all agree Cassian would like dinasour nuggets! And thank you @the-darkestminds for the head pats to post because why is posting short things scary, finally sympathizing with men who send microdick pics 😭😫 love u mami 😘

Thank you @kgymz for the divider! 💗

It’s not azris which means idk who to tag and so my friends are once again my victims, @astro-h0e-4azris @nus4y @jules-writes-stories @iftheshoef1tz @mistandmemories @pippsmcgee @makinglongwordsslutty @fingerpoppingood @fourteentrout @mudandmire @queercontrarian Luh u pookies 💗 I don’t think I’ll be writing more nessian but lmk if you’d like me to/would want to be tagged if I did 💗

[asnowfern]

Everything is fine when your hand is next to mine

A soft nessian drabble because that is all my completely exhausted being has the energy for.

WC: 743, Modern AU setting

The dread of realisation rose in Nesta with the increasing strength of the tidal waves. The ferry that transported them to the island was nothing more than a floating speck, helpless against the vast body of tumultuous water.

It was a short ride to the resort island that housed their team retreat: not even a mere hour.

While prone to often bouts of terrible nausea, Nesta’s seasickness had never devolved into the realms of vomiting. So she never found a need to medicate herself, choosing instead to rely on time trusted practice of a light meal and comfortable clothes that gave her chest and abdomen ample breathing room.

Though she had still hoped when she spotted the charcoal threat of cumulonimbus clouds in the faraway distance that it would wait the hour, not striking down its wrath until they had safely docked at shore. But alas, it was not to be - the waves grew just a little taller with each push and pull, the speed at which the ferry climbed and fell with the waves a jumbled inconsistent mess.

Nesta’s stomach lurched at the next descent and she squeezed her eyes shut, her mouth pursed into the slightest of an oval, pushing out a slow steady stream of air. Her meditative habits kicked in on instinct.

I am the rock against which-

Oh, for goodness sake. She couldn’t even complete the sentence without her abdomen clenching at the mere thought.

“Hey, Nes,” the voice dripping in pure swagger greeted as the cheap leather seat grumbled at the sudden weight.

Her brows knitted on its accord, annoyed. Nesta kept her eyes closed in pure refusal to acknowledge the business development executive. Maybe if she stayed quiet long enough, he would go away.

He didn’t.

He said nothing for a while, letting the little squeaks of leather alert her of his continued presence.

“Nes?”

“Now’s not the time, Cassian.” She sighed wearily, her jaw clenched as her belly threatened to push acidic bile up her throat. She took a shallow breath in and released a long shuddering exhale, forcing it under her control.

One, two, in.

One, two, out.

“You ok?”

One, two, in.

“I’m fine.”

One, two, out.

One, two, in.

“You don’t look fine.”

Silver blue eyes flew open as she whirled on him, snapping with the exhale, “Would you just leave me alone?”

It was uncalled for. It was rude but Nesta refused to backpedal even as something within her chastised her for chewing him off for no good reason. She ignored the voice and levelled a withering gaze at slightly widen hazel eyes, pretending not to notice the flash of hurt in them.

He slipped away when the moment broke, brushing her off with a wry smile that masked any other emotions, “I’ll be back later.”

And Nesta was alone again.

She fished her phone out of her bag to take note of the time - another thirty minutes to go, and sighed.

Leaning back into the seats, her knuckles turned white as her fingers gripped onto its handles. She forced it loose in hopes of loosening her tightening stomach. Her eyes stuttered shut and resumed her control of gated entry of air into her lungs.

Warm rough fingertips gently enveloped the back of her palms, rousing her from the fitful sleep she hadn’t realised she had fallen into. Dazed eyes drifted to the paper cup he extended to her, nothing but soft understanding on that ruggedly handsome face. Nesta accepted it wordlessly with a slight downward jerk of her chin, surprised at the heat from its papered surface. It was beyond her how he managed to find any hot drinks on this small transport ferry.

Cassian smiled and settled back into the seat next to her. Nesta lifted the edge of the cup to her lips, cautiously sipping its hot content. Immediately, a warmth spread in her chest and stomach. The gentle bitterness of the oolong tea soothed the churning.

Shifting her grip of the drinking receptacle to one hand, she slipped slender fingers over broad ones and soft palm over the back of the much larger hand.

“Thank you.”

His hand moved under hers, flipping so that their hands are clasped together. With the smallest of a smile gracing her lips, her shoulders relaxed into the seat and she let the comforting heat of his palm and the soothing presence to tie her through for the rest of the ride.

[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

How Could You Think, Darling, I'd Scare So Easily? (ao3)

The moment I heard this song, I just knew I had to write a Nessian drabble, and so here it is for day 3 of @nessianweek !

Set post-acofas and pre-acosf. Each night Cassian sits on the roof of the building across the street from Nesta’s apartment, waiting for a light in her window.

There was a light in her window.

A flickering flame, almost swallowed by the darkness, a candle fighting hard to stay lit in the draughts that slipped through the cracks in her window frames. 

Go home, Cassian.

The words she’d spat on a darkened road laden with snow, with venom on her tongue and agony in her chest. That Solstice night - weeks ago now, months - when she’d pushed him away so thoroughly he thought it a wonder there was any part of himself that remained unbroken, he’d taken it in his stride, let her walk away, only to follow her at a distance to make sure she got home safe.

Go home, Cassian.

Didn’t she realise that he was home? Wherever she was, whenever he was by her side— he was home. And it didn’t matter that she hissed and spat and clawed at him with that sharp tongue of hers. Fuck, it didn’t even matter that she had been out tonight, in a bar with other men. It killed him, but it didn’t matter when she took them home, didn’t matter that it wasn’t him waking up in her bed in the morning, or bringing her tea as the sun broke above the horizon. 

It didn’t matter, because no matter how much she tried to make him run— here he was.

Sitting on a rooftop across the street from her apartment, waiting in the darkness for a glimpse of a light in her window. A sign that she was home— that she’d made it back safe.

She was broken and hurting and trying desperately to find some way to mend, and gods, didn’t Cassian know well enough what that was like? Didn’t he remember his own anguish, his own agony, after his first war? So how could he judge her now— how could he fault her, when her heart was breaking as much as his?

And how could she ever think it would be enough to make him turn away?

His love was not feeble or fickle or fragile— it was unending and uncompromising and unwavering, and gods, how he wished she saw it. How he wished she knew that she was the beginning and ending of his everything, that which his entire world seemed to now revolve, and it was her name he whispered in the darkness each night, her face he saw behind closed eyelids. What was he, without her? Who had he been, in all those centuries he’d endured not knowing her name?

So it didn’t matter that she pushed him away.

None of it mattered.

Nesta was his, the one he’d almost died for, and when he promised her they’d have time he meant it— meant every fucking word he’d uttered as he lay there close to death. He wouldn’t turn from her now— not even with all the distance between them, all the words spoken in anger. 

And as that candle continued to flicker on her windowsill, he ran a hand through his hair and rose to his feet. He turned away, knowing that he’d be back tomorrow night. 

And the next, and the next. 

For however many nights it took until she was okay again… he’d be here, sitting on that rooftop. Waiting.

And with each tremble of that fragile flame in that distant window, he’d picture it— the day he’d wake with her by his side, her fingers woven tight with his, her eyes no longer stricken with the kind of grief that stole his breath, endless in its magnitude. The day he’d hold her again, kiss her the way he had in those last few moments on that battlefield, the kiss he’d thought would be his last. His heart ached behind his ribs, some piece of him shattering with every slam of her door in his face, but still—

It didn’t matter.

He wouldn’t break, could take anything she threw his way, and good gods, he’d been through enough to know that he’d go through it all again if it meant that at the end of it all, he got to hold her in his arms.

So he’d wait. 

He’d sit in the darkness and make sure she made it home. He’d stand back, waiting on the sidelines with his heart bruised black and blue, because he’d promised to find her and he’d meant it, and even if it took her a little longer to find her way back to him…

Cassian would deal with it. 

Because he was hers in every way imaginable, and oh, he loved her. And there was not a single thing in the world she could do that could shake the love from him, make it vanish from his heart. Nothing, no matter how hard she tried.

He’d wait for her. For a week, a month, a year. A century or a millennia. It didn’t matter. She was his, and he was hers, and someday, he knew, they would have the kind of forever that the poets and the bards sang about, the kind that made everything else cease to be. Someday, he would love her the way she deserved, cherish her the way she ought to have been cherished all along.  

It was just a matter of time.

[honeybeefae]

Capture The Flag (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: Slight suggestiveness? No smut though!

(Wow, it's been what, a year since I last wrote? I hope you enjoy this small drabble! <3)

Summary // After losing to the Illyrian babies for the fourth time in a row, you swore to yourself that this time would be different. Strategies were made, and routes were planned, but as each of you got picked off one by one, you had to throw caution to the wind and prepare to fight dirty.

A game. That is all this was, right? Just a fun, chill, absolutely not in any way competitive game.

A gust of wind almost knocks you on your ass as a large shadow momentarily blocks out the sun, Cassian's laughter echoing across the forest.

Damn Illyrians.

"Nesta! Feyre!" You shout, feeling the sweat drip down your face and back as you take a sharp turn to the left. "I thought you said we would win this time?! Where is my team?"

This was the fifth time this game had been played in the last month, and the three of you had lost every single time. You had foolishly believed that this capture the flag activity could be played respectfully, the focus more on fun rather than rivalry.

A loud scream followed by Nesta using every swear word she knew proves just how wrong you were about that. "You'll regret that, Cassian!" She shouts, hair sticking to her face as she runs past you in a near sprint. "Hold this for me!"

Before you can react, something is tossed at you, which you are barely able to catch. Your heart stalls momentarily as you realize what exactly Nesta has given you as she goes to get revenge on her mate.

The flag.

Fuck.

"Feyre!!" You yell out, not even bothering to hide the fear in your voice as you frantically look around. In all the games before, you had never been the one to hold the flag, but you knew you had to get it to your home base. However, that would be a much simpler task if you had the protection of the High Lady of the Night Court.

Also, a Valkyrie, but by the sounds coming from a nearby clearing, she was busy fighting. Or fucking. Actually, probably both.

"Come on!" You hear Feyre's soft voice beside you, her hand wrapping around your wrist as she starts to run. "Base is just past those trees! All we have to do is-" A whirl of mist, the smell of sea salt and citrus, and suddenly, the High Lord himself is leaning against a nearby pine. His arms are crossed over his chest, a nonchalant smirk on his lips as he looks at the two of you.

"Ah, I was just wondering where that pesky thing had gone to..." He chuckles, nodding towards the flag, which you instinctively tighten your hold on.

"No, come on, Rhys, please?" You whine, looking towards Feyre as she regards him with an icy stare.

"Do you think it would be fair of me to let you girls win based on pity?" He taunts, raising an eyebrow. "Look, you two are clearly outnumbered, so if you would just surrender-"

"Your general is off frolicking in the woods," Feyre suddenly speaks up, taking a brave step forward as she raises her chin up in defiance. "And your Spymaster is nowhere to be seen. Right now, darling, you are the one who is outnumbered."

"Is that right?" Rhysand purrs, his violet eyes now entirely on Feyre as she smirks. You roll your eyes and sigh despite the circumstances, knowing that this play is going to end much the same as Cassian and Nesta.

Unless....you look at Feyre, with her hands behind her back, and see her motion for you to run. Ah, a trap. Well, she was definitely the best bait for him, after all.

You immediately take off and run towards your home base, hearing Feyre easily intercept Rhys before he can snatch you back, and you laugh. This is it! Cassian and Rhys have both been neutralized, all you have to do is-

A long, muscled arm wraps around your torso and all but slams you into the moss-covered ground right before you can touch the finish line. You gasp, the air was stolen from your lungs, and blink up to see Azriel looming over you with mischievous eyes.

"Hi." He murmurs, voice gravely, as he examines you underneath him. "Were you heading somewhere?"

"Fuck you." You laugh breathlessly, the flag still held tightly in your fist, as he licks his lips. "You know it's not fair to camp out at the end and wait. It's plain cheating."

"Sounds like you're just jealous that you are about to lose. Again." He snarked teasingly. "Though I was surprised to see that you weren't taking the same...approaches, if you will, as Feyre and Nesta."

You feel your cheeks blush at his alluding words, suddenly very aware of the way his body was pressed against yours. It hadn't been that long since the two of you had found out you were mates, less time than that since the mating ceremony.

Actually, this game was what had pulled you guys out of your shared home to spend time with everyone. You think that is why the boys won so quickly the last few times, as within minutes of victory, Azriel was dragging you back to the house without so much as a goodbye.

"You sound disappointed, my love," You coo, pouting out your bottom lip as he grins boyishly. "I think it might be a little late, but...if you let me up and win, I can promise you more than a simple romp in the woods?"

Azriel poked his cheek with his tongue at your suggestive tone, and you could feel just how your words affected him. It was just the two of you out now as if you were in your own bubble, and it wasn't lost on him just how easy it would be to indulge each other.

"Please?" Your voice turns softer, quieter, and you know you have him hook, line, and sinker when he leans in, and his eyes flutter close. His lips ghost over yours, his scent wrapping around you in a dizzying chokehold, and you have to force yourself to fight through the fog of promises.

His fingers loosen around your wrists, his body lifts just the slightest bit, and you give him a kiss of betrayal before twisting his arm back and rolling away to freedom.

Adrenaline kicks in as you claw your way up and run as fast as you can to home base. The sound of cursing and wings flapping quickly fills your ears, and you let out a terrified shriek, jumping with all of your speed and closing your eyes as you crash to the ground.

Your mouth fills with dirt, your arms and legs scrape against twigs and rocks littered on the ground, but your hand...it's touching the giant oak by the stream. The flag still firmly grasped within.

Azriel is quick to help you up, his eyes wide with concern as he looks you over and scolds you for risking a broken arm for a game, but you barely hear him. No, all you can hear is the trumpets in the distance as you loudly whoop into the forest air.

"WE DID IT!!" You crow, throwing the flag down at Azriel's feet. "GUYS WE WON! WE BEAT THEM!"

There was no answer, of course, but you knew it, and you were proud. You turn to fully face Azriel, grinning wildly, only to see him assessing you with a dangerous glint in his eye. It made your elation quickly turn to fear as he straightened his spine and stretched out his wings, only giving you a small jerk of his chin for a signal before reaching for you.

You were quick to dodge, forgetting the crumpled flag as you laughed and took off in a different direction. It seems you would be getting your fun in the woods after all.

[potatoplace]

Game Night

💖 Valentine's Collection 2025: Monopoly 💖

Nessian x Reader | Azris x Reader | Cazriel x Reader

Summary: Game night with your partners means three things: chaos, anger, and sexual tension.

Warnings: daddy kink oops, don't think there's anything else tho

Words: 1,224

Author's Note: this was soooo soo sOoo much fun omg. I loved Nessian's the most, cause they're the ones I had in mind when I made the poll 😂 and uhhh the Azris one... got uh. More daddy-y than I'd planned but I'm not mad. I hope you guys like it!! Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🤍🩶🤍❤️🤍

“No, no, NO!” Cassian yelled as the dice stopped on doubles sixes, moving him from your hotel on Marvin’s Garden to Nesta’s hotel on Boardwalk.

“Yes!” Nesta cheered, a fist pumping into the air. “You’re going down, pretty boy!”

Cassian rifled through his stack of money that had already been cut into heftily from his last turn, leaving him with just ones and fives, his cheeks red. “I swear, Nes, you’re going to land on Illinois and then Pennsylvania Avenue and give me everything back.”

“Fat chance, Cassie, I’m going to bleed. You. Dry,” Nesta hissed, her hands clawing at the edges of the table.

“Okay, let’s cool it a little bit, guys,” you interjected, hoping to alleviate some of the tension that was quickly building to an unstoppable point.

As usual.

“Yeah, Nes, take you turn,” Cassian sneered at her, and you shot him a dirty look. He at least had the decency to look ashamed for five seconds, that’s more than he normally would.

Nesta rolled the dice, Cassian chanting for her to get a seven under his breath, only to yell when she rolled an eight, skipping right past his hotel on Illinois in favor of one of her railroads. “Would you look at that, Cassian, I seem to owe no money to anyone at this table.”

You sighed and scooped up the dice, hoping that your turn would help distract them from each other. Your hands shook the dice and loosed them, landing on a solid four - leaving you on free parking, which currently held over $1000 in Nesta’s income tax landings.

“Oh, you bitch!” Nesta yelled at you, though her hand landed on your arm gently, reassuring you that she may be loud, but she’s not truly angry with you.

You giggled at her as you raked in your new stack of bills, your wealth nearly equal with hers now.

“Oh, fuck me,” Cassian groaned. He never liked when the two of you were on top, as you rarely made someone go bankrupt, and Nesta would loan you money if you needed some - you are her princess are all. Meaning Cassian would have mercy from you, but all of Nesta’s mercy had been given to you.

“I can certainly arrange that, if you can’t pay for Boardwalk the next time you land on it,” Nesta said with a smirk, her eyes promising that she would offer such a trade.

“Over my dead body,” Cassian said, grabbing the dice again and rolling a ten, landing him at Nesta’s hotel on Connecticut Avenue. “FUCK!”

🤍💙🤍🧡🤍

“That will be $1000, Y/N,” Eris said from across the table, his amber eyes glinting as he watched you fidget in your seat.

You bit your lip as you looked from him to your stack of money, knowing that you had less than half of what you needed, and you’d already traded away most of your properties. “Can I owe you one?” You asked, knowing the limited likelihood that he would agree.

“No, that isn’t the rule of the game, bunny. You either pay up or go bankrupt, I’m sorry to say,” he said, though his smirk told you he wouldn’t be sorry. After all, whenever you went bankrupt you chose one of them to cuddle with until they finished battling it out.

You turned your gaze to Azriel, his hazel eyes already trained on you.

“How much do you need, bunny?”

You smiled and bit your lip before counting the money that you had left. “Uhm… $637?” Azriel counted out $700 for you and held his hand out, taking it back before you could take it. You rolled your eyes and stood up, going over by him to give him a long kiss, your mouths only separating when Eris coughed, annoyed. “Thank you, Azzie,” you said, giving him another kiss, on his cheek this time. “Here you go, Eris,” You said brightly, handing him the money.

“You know, it’s against the spiritual rules of the game to bail someone out, Azriel,” Eris said as he grabbed the dice.

“But she’s so adorable Eris, especially after you’ve rejected her offer of paying you back later. I mean,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your head so you were facing him. “Could you say no to that face?”

Eris opened his mouth, but you slid your lip into a pout and squinted your eyes like you were going to cry.

He sighed. “No, I can’t. Come on, Y/N, just give up and come sit on daddy’s lap, hmm?” The request sent heat straight to your core, and your cheeks that Azriel was still holding onto.

“Or you could come sit on my lap, babygirl,” Azriel said, turning your face back to him. “I did just save you from bankruptcy.”

Your eyes flicked between the two of them.

“No, I think I’m fine for now, after all, I’m not bankrupt thanks to you, daddy,” you said softly, relishing in the light blush that dusted Azriel’s cheeks.

“See, Az? She does it every time!” Eris insisted, finally shaking the dice in his hands. “Just wait, you’ll be in my lap in no time, bunny.”

🤍❤️🤍💙🤍

“Ah, shit,” Cassian groaned as you landed on Pennsylvania Avenue, where Azriel had just put up a hotel. “Do you have enough money to pay for that, baby?”

You rolled your eyes at him. You were doing far better than he was this game, having slightly tricked him and Azriel into giving you all of their pieces of lower-priced property, leaving you owning two sides of the board, utilities and railroads included.

“I think I do, Cassie, thank you though,” you smiled at him, pulling out the money that you owed Azriel.

“Thank you,” Azriel said quietly as he put the money away in the proper order, both of you sharing the vast majority of the money. “Time for you to go, Cassian. And you should be asking if you have enough money,” he pointed out, waving at the part of the board he was on: your territory.

“Oh, I’ll be just fine, I’m going to skate by on chance and community chest, brother,” Cassian boasted as he picked up the dice and rolled them.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him landing on one of your hotels a moment later, biting your lip to keep your joy from being too obvious. You’d always found it funny how confident Cassian was, even when he sucked at the game like he did with monopoly.

“Pay up, big guy,” you said, extending a hand.

“I don’t-“ he sighed loudly. “Fuck you, Azriel!”

“What did I do?” Azriel asked with a brow raised.

“Well, I can’t say that to Y/N, now can I?! So fuck you!”

Az rolled his eyes at him. “Can you pay her, or not?”

“Yeah, Cassie, it’s only right to pay your debts,” you teased as he began counting out money, coming up a couple hundred short. He grumbled as he picked off a few houses from his monopoly, and pushed the money into your hands.

“Thank you, Cass,” you said, catching his eyes. “You know I love you, no matter how poor you are in monopoly, right?”

He let out an amused huff, and grinned. “If you love me so much, will you give me one of your monopolies?”

“Not a chance.”

🧡💙🤍❤️🩶

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad

[surielstea]

Words on Paper

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel’s jealous over a male in your book and it’s hilarious.

Warnings: Just fluff, short Drabble :)

1k words

You and Nesta hadn't shut up about the men in your books all morning. The new Sellyn Drake novel had come out less than a week ago and the both of you couldn't stop raving about it, you swore you had dreams about the characters, and when you weren't caught up in the plot you were analyzing the characters, the male love interest specifically who Nesta and you were all but frothing at the mouth over.

"I need him, unfortunately," Nesta sighed, looking over to me as we held our planks. Valkyrie training seemed to go a lot faster when the both of you got the chance to debrief over chapters and share what you were passionate about, Cassian didn't seem to care as long as we stayed on task and kept up with the movements.

The exercises had become second nature to the both of you, sure it wasn't as mindless as breathing but after it's been part of your routine for weeks it truly does come naturally, like a second language that only the two of you can speak.

Azriel was slow to insanity at this point. He couldn't seem to adjust to the idea of you taking interest in anyone but him. With Mates, the rule is that if the bond is accepted then there's no one else for that person, intertwined by fate.

So why was he so irritated when you rambled too long about a guy from a book?

"Are you two working out your mouths too?" Azriel stands above you, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly, you look up at him with a wide grin. "Sorry, sir," you tease. Nesta shakes her head in exasperation and you giggle.

It took one minute of silence until Nesta and you were whispering amongst each other again.

Azriel seems to have given up days ago, his eyes narrowed at you from across the sparring mats, Cassian next to him as they drink their waters.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Azriel asks his brother, continuing to stare at both of their mates. “Does what?” Cassian turned to him with an arched brow. “That they’re so obsessed with those men from their little smut novels,” Azriel mutters and Cassian nearly laughs at the death glare the Shadow Singer was saving for the fictional male, who as of late was threatening to take his wife away.

“It’s just words on paper,” Cass shrugs, bending down to place his water on the ground. “I know but, the idea of her wanting anyone else gets under my skin,” Azriel argues and this time Cassian does laugh, it was so odd to see the revered Spymaster so torn up about some guy, who wasn’t even real. “What’re you jealous of him?” Cassian scoffs through his laughter. Azriel rolls his eyes and puts his water down. “Whatever, just don’t come crying when you can’t satisfy Nesta anymore,” He grumbled.

“I doubt that day will come,” Nesta hums from behind the Shadow Singer. He knew she was there, you with her, but he needed to get his point across. “Hey hun, you ready to go?” You dip under his arm, placing a hand on his bare chest. He only nodded in reply.

“Hey, remember what I said, it’s just words Az,” Cassian said before you got the chance to winnow him away, he nodded once more then you took him home.

You didn’t want to know what the General was going on about, you could tell from training Azriel was a little irritated but you couldn’t remember doing anything to irk him.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong or just keep pouting like a baby?” You ask and he scowls down at you. You smile, hands coming to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, he barely has time to reciprocate it before you’re pulling away.

“What’s got you so tense?” You smush his cheeks together and he just stares at you in reply, so you begin to guess. “Something Cass did?” You ask and he shakes his head no. “Something I did?” He doesn’t move and you deflate, flinging your arms over his shoulders and melting into him. “Can’t you just tell me what’s wrong, please?” You sigh into his neck, already admitting defeat. “Do you like him more than me?” He blurts and you stiffen, pulling away to look up at him confused. “Like who?” You utter. “The guy in your stupid book,” He grumbled and you openly cackled before slapping a hand over your lips. “It’s not funny,” He groans backing away from your touch and plopping down onto the sofa, where he could sulk in peace. “I know, I’m sorry Az,” You say, taking deep breaths to control your giggles. “I’m just saying, what does he have that I don’t?” He frowns and you walk over to him, sprawling over his lap and straddling his hips. “Perhaps a control on his emotions?” You tease and he grumbles beneath his breath like a child, looking away from you.

It was true that Azriel was quite explosive. One would think he’d be less reactive as the Spymaster and yet he might’ve been the quickest to action out of all the inner circle. It was a weakness, something he was working on. It was rude of you to point it out but you make up for it by peppering a line of loving kisses up the side of his face.

“I love you, okay? Only you,” You reassure. “Those men, they’re meant to be thirsted over, you understand that don’t you?” You ask and the male nods. “I just don’t want you wanting anyone else,” He looks at me and my grin widens. “Awh, Az,” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight. “I’m all yours, don’t worry,” You muffle into his neck. “Yeah? All mine?” He asks and you nod rapidly before saying, “Promise,”

“Now stop acting like a big baby,” you pull away from the hug and hold his face in your hands. “I’m gonna go bathe, you gonna keep moping out here or do you wanna join me?” You tease. He doesn’t answer and instead picks you up from where you sit and walks you straight to the bathing chambers.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe

[sadiegirl2021]

*Cassian and Nesta talking at the dining room table*

Nesta: I'm telling you, he's got a crush on her.

Cassian: There's no way! He would have told me. *Azriel joins them*

Nesta(whispering): Really! Watch this...

Nesta: Az, I'm going to get Gwyn a chocolate cake for her birthday.

Azriel(seemingly uninterested): Okay...

Cassian(mouthing at Nesta): See!

Azriel(smiling a little): ...But I think pistachio is a better choice. It's her favourite.

Nesta(mouthing at Cassian with a smirk): See!!

[throneofsapphics]

a present 

Nessian x f!Reader 

Summary: “Take if off” with Nessian 

Warnings: smut, oral (f!receiving), minors dni please!

A/N: for this!

“You’ll watch us tonight,” Nesta told Cassian, the door opening and shutting as the two entered. 

The words caught your attention, and you quickly finished the paragraph of the book you were reading - it wasn’t that interesting in comparison, closing it to see her cover your line of sight, the arches of Cassian’s wings visible beyond her. Winking at you, before sliding between you and the headboard, shifting you between your legs, you noticed hair was already loose from its usual crown.  

“If that’s alright with you, love,” she murmured in your ear. 

You twisted to meet her eyes, noting the mischievous glint, and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Of course.” 

Generally, Nesta’s schemes against Cassian, especially to tease him, ended rather well for you. 

Her fingers gathered the edges of your nightgown. She slowly slid the fabric up, unveiling you like a present for him. She’d stop every few inches, run her fingers back and forth over her skin, use her thumbs to rub circles into zones you didn’t know could be erogenous. 

Cassian broke his silent observing just as her hands reached your stomach. “Take it off,” he growled from the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and visibly struggling with restraint. “Please, Nes,” he added when her hands stopped. 

“I thought I said you’d be watching,” she teased, and he threw his head back in a groan. 

“Don’t make him suffer too long, love,” you cut in. And make you suffer, you left unsaid. 

Nesta hummed, but quickly slid the rest of the fabric up and over your shoulders, tossing it to the side. One hand slid under your thigh, pulling your leg up over hers, leaving you very exposed, and you heard Cassian’s breathing pick up. 

A cool breeze brushed right against your core, dragging a whimper from you. Nesta let out a low laugh, and you yelped as she dragged your other leg over hers, spreading her knees as far as you could handle. 

“You want a taste?” She asked Cassian, her voice a low purr. 

He didn’t bother answering her, instead crossed the room in a few strides, before kneeling between your legs. 

Hazel eyes found yours, searching for permission, all you could manage - with Nesta’s fingers now twisting and pinching your nipples - was a nod and a breathy “yes,” it was enough for Cassian. 

One hand parting your folds, he dragged his tongue up your center, pausing at the apex of your thighs, “fuck you taste incredible,” he moaned. 

You wiggled your hips as much as you could, trying to push yourself against his mouth. He laughed, one hand coming up to pin your hips back against Nesta. One finger teased against your entrance in painfully slow circles, and you couldn’t have pressed forward if you wanted to, now that Nesta had one arm across your lower stomach in an iron grip. 

What started as something fun to tease Cassian was quickly turning back on you. In reality, the teasing probably lasted less than five minutes but with the pressure slowly building in your stomach it felt like years. 

“Am I going to have to do it for you?” Nesta taunted him. 

He snarled, at the idea of you being taken away from him, but finally started pushing you towards relief. Your attempted thanks to Nesta was drowned out by the moans falling from your lips. 

You didn’t have it in you to be embarrassed with how quickly you finished, his fingers curving to hit the perfect spot, teeth nipping at your clit. Cassian slowed his movements as you rode out your orgasm, Nesta whispering praises in your ear. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Nesta murmured after you managed to regain some control of your breathing, your legs still shaking. 

Cassian’s arms slid between the two of you, snatching you from her - he was already halfway to the bath, one you heard the house start to run, before Nesta’s indignant yelp could be heard. 

“She’ll get back at you for this,” you mumbled, head against his chest. For some reason, one of Nesta’s favorite little things was to carry you off towards a bath after. The two of you would joke it’s because she ‘couldn’t do it to that big oaf,’ but you both knew she liked to take care of you. 

“And you’ll keep benefiting from it,” he pressed a kiss against your forehead.

The House was undeniably on Nesta’s side, considering the water was ice cold when Cassian dipped his fingers in to test it. 

“That’s what you get,” Nesta said from the doorway. 

[theladyofdeath]

Anxious & Bewitched {nessian}

Ship: Nesta x Cassian Summary: College AU; Nesta loses a bet and has to go on a date with Cassian to a haunted corn maze. T/W: None; Fluff

Written with @snelbz

As Nesta opened the passenger side door and dropped from the cab of the truck, a chill breeze had her tucking her hands into the folds of her thick sweater.

The driver-side door closed behind her and she took a deep breath.

She had no reason to be nervous. There was no reason to be nervous. It wasn’t the first time they’d hung out together, wasn’t even the first time it’d just been the two of them, without the rest of their friends. But this time… This time was different.

He appeared around the front of the truck. “I told you I’d come around to get your door.”

Reigning in the urge to roll her eyes, Nesta muttered, “Yeah, well, you were taking too long.”

He laughed, as he always did when he was clearly exasperated by her. She wondered if somewhere, deep down inside, Cassian secretly wanted to throttle her instead of being amused by her annoyance. She wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“Most girls—” With one look shot in his direction, Cassian stopped speaking and cleared his throat. “Like corn mazes,” he finished, even though she knew damn well that wasn’t what he was going to say. “Do you?”

Nesta shrugged. “I don’t think anyone really enjoys corn mazes. We all just do them because it’s a tradition.”

“Glad to see you’re excited,” he muttered and shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked toward the ticket booth. “I hope you don’t get scared too easily. They say this is the scariest maze in the county.”

Nesta glanced at the setting sun, barely still in existence. She gave it fifteen minutes before they were in complete darkness. “Do I seem like someone who gets scared easily?”

They reached the front of the line, which saved Cassian from having to answer the loaded question and headed for where the festivities would be starting as soon as the sun fully set behind Ramiel in the distance.

“So,” Nesta began as she looked around at the stands and vendors around them. “I believe the stipulations were one dinner and one trip through the corn maze.”

“And apple cider after the maze,” Cassian reminded her with a wink. The bet they’d made last week over whether Azriel or Elain would earn a higher score on their English lit midterm had won Cassian a date with Nesta, after over a year of rejections. He would make it count.

Nesta’s dramatic sigh was mostly for show as she said, “Right, how could I forget? Where do we start?”

“Dinner?” He asked, gesturing to the stalls they paused before.

Chili, soup, and roasted chicken legs; kettle corn, funnel cake, and, of course, hot cider. The options were limitless and as Nesta’s stomach rumbled hungrily, she realized her appetite was as well. “I could eat.”

After a quick discussion over what they each wanted and whether or not it would count as a date if they weren’t eating the same thing, Cassian led Nesta to an open picnic table, placing her bowl of hearty tomato soup in front of her as she sat down. Rather than taking the seat across from her, Cassian sat next to her, the heat of his thigh against hers as he took a bite out of the massive chicken leg he’d decided on.

He ate like an animal and Nesta hated to admit that she found it oddly attractive. 

Nonetheless, she said, “You eat like a barbarian.”

“I eat like a man,” he corrected and nodded towards her soup. “Are you going to pretend to sip that thing like a lady instead of devouring it like you want to?”

The word devour from his lips sent a chill down her spine. She’d read too much smut.  

And yes, yes she was.

Nesta took her sweet time sipping her soup, just to spite him. He was finished in less than a minute but he waited patiently for her once his food was long gone. 

Half an hour passed before Nesta’s bowl was empty and by that time, the moon and the stars were shining brightly in the night sky. Cassian took care of their garbage and clapped his hands together as Nesta stood from the picnic table.

“Ready?”

She sighed, even as a whirlwind of anxiety and excitement swelled in the pit of her stomach. “I guess I don’t have a choice, right?”

His grin was intoxicating as he said, “Not at all.”

They lined up behind a group of high school students, Cassian recognizing the green and silver of their letterman jackets from the next town over, and sat in companionable silence as the teenagers planned how they’d make their way through the maze. They discussed who would lead, who was too scared and would walk in the middle, and who would bring up the rear, making sure those people from the middle wouldn’t fall behind.

Before they knew it, the excited giggles of the group became shrieks and howls of laughter as they meandered deeper into the maze.

Then it was their turn.

“After you, Nes,” Cassian said, gesturing to the long walkway ahead of them. It faded into nothing but darkness and he swore he heard her swallow before she turned to him.

“I don’t think so. This was your idea, so you get to go in first.”

The attendant rolled his eyes and held an arm out toward the entrance. “I’ve got a line and you’re backing it up. You can go in together.”

Nesta opened her mouth to protest but Cassian took her by the hand and pulled her into the maze. Before she could even catch her breath, they were enveloped in corn stalks, the shrieks and screams of others radiating around them.

Nesta’s body grew taut, so much so that she hadn’t even realized that her hand was still in Cassian’s until they turned their first corner.

“So,” he began, and she could see his smirk in the outline of the starlight, “not scared, huh?”

“I swear to the Cauldron, I will leave right now if you don’t shut up.” The words rushed out of her. She took a deep breath, then another. “I’m not scared. I’m just—”

A guy dressed as a bloodied up zombie jumped out of the cornstalks and Nesta screamed.

But it was Cassian that jumped nearly a foot in the air, a long string of profanity tumbling from his mouth.

Nesta stared at him.

Cassian, chest heaving, stared back.

Then, despite herself, Nesta laughed.

With an exasperated sigh, Cassian took Nesta’s hand again and dragged her away from the still snarling zombie.

“Holding my hand a little tight there, aren’t you?” She asked, once they had moved farther into the maze. He could hear the smile on her face, but didn’t look at her as they surged forward. “Don’t worry, Cass, I’ll keep you safe.”

A twig snapped at their backs and Nesta whirled, turning to face the…empty path behind them. Her eyes darted around, searching despite not seeing anyone or anything there.

A terrified scream from somewhere deeper within the maze had Nesta gasping and clutching onto Cassian’s arm with her free hand.

“I could say the same for you,” he snapped, and cursed when the sound of a chainsaw began to rev from somewhere in the maze. “I’m having a blast.”

“Me too,” she hissed, grounding herself in the warmth of his body. She had never felt so annoyed and so safe at the same time. Maybe if she closed her eyes, this whole experience would be so much more enjoyable. 

Ignoring the fact that she was clinging to Cassian for dear life, Nesta continued to make her way through the maze, wishing she was literally anywhere else every time they came to a dead end.

They had just gotten away from a psycho in a hockey mask when Cassian said, “I have no clue how to get out of here.”

Nesta looked down the creepy pathways before them. “I don’t either. Isn’t there some trick to getting out of mazes?”

Snapping his fingers, Cassian took her hand and began pulling her down the path to the right. “Right turns only.”

The psycho in the hockey mask was waiting around the next turn with the rest of his team.

“Why do you even like this stuff?” Cassian demanded as they stopped to catch their breath, warily looking around at the corn stalks, waiting for someone to jump out at them.

“I don’t,” Nesta replied, peeking around the corner, cringing at whatever she saw. “I hate it.”

When there was no response, Nesta glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting him to be gone. Instead, she found him staring at her.

“What do you mean you hate it,” he asked, eyes on hers.

“I mean, I hate getting scared,” she snapped, looking back around the corner. “Slashers and horror movies are the extent of my interest in being scared.”

He muttered under his breath, “I’m going to kill them.”

With her brow furrowed, Nesta turned to find him shaking his head. “Who?”

“Feyre, but I’m sure it was Rhys’s idea, too.” He stepped up behind her, finally seeing the clown standing in the middle of the path and stepped back. “When I asked her for an idea of what you’d want to do, she said you’d love this. That you love haunted houses.”

Nesta tried her best not to gape but couldn’t help herself. “She said what?”

Cassian just shook his head, dragging Nesta past the creepy ass clown. 

“You don’t like this, either?” She asked, when he said nothing. Cassian just shook his head, and Nesta scoffed. “Wow.”

“Being scared pisses me off,” he admitted. “Which, your sister knows.”

A realization hit Nesta as they turned yet another corner: he hated being scared, but he brought her here anyway.

Because he thought she would love it. 

She hadn’t realized she was staring at him until a second clown popped out of the stalks and Cassian’s hand gripped onto hers so tightly that it hurt.

Nothing else was said until they reached the end of the maze, just a few minutes later. There were no other big scares, nothing else to take any additional years off of Cassian’s life and he wished his sigh of relief when they finally walked out into the open air of the festival wasn’t as loud as it was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, beyond thankful that the entire ordeal was over and he’d made it out alive.

“Alright,” he said, exhaling one last time and looking towards the stalls. He’d seen someone selling hot cider when they’d first gotten here. “I could go for some cider. Honestly, I’m down for something stronger, if you are, but—”

A tug on his hand had him leaning down and then a warm kiss was pressed to his cheek.

For a moment, he stilled, thinking what had happened hadn’t just happened, but when he met her gaze, she almost looked as surprised as he was. Her eyes were wide and hesitant, glancing hectically between his eyes and his mouth. Cassian swallowed, scared to say or do anything to break whatever the hell was going on here. 

“Thank you,” she said, quietly but firmly, eyes locked on his. 

“For what?” he asked, blinking. “You were miserable.”

“So were you,” she agreed, and shook her head. “So, thank you.”

“I wanted you to have a good time,” he admitted, brushing his fingers against hers. “I didn’t want you to regret having said yes.”

Her fingers grazed his again, but then she laced them together. “Technically, I didn’t have a choice, since I did lose a bet after all,” she said, voice taking on a teasing tone before dropping back into something softer as she smiled. “But I’m glad I came. I’m glad I said yes, Cassian.”

She glanced down at their joined hands, squeezing his fingers once before she met his gaze. His eyes were already on her and he couldn’t help but stare in awe at how beautiful she was.

Blushing, Nesta cleared her throat. “So. You owe me a drink.”

Cassian hesitated. “Cider? Or…”

“Something stronger may be nice.” Nesta breathed a laugh and Cassian couldn’t help but smile. “Something to take the edge off.”

Cassian couldn’t deny that. He could use the same thing, something to take the edge off. “There’s a bar two miles up the road. I think it’s a biker bar, but it seems… Well, I’ll keep you safe.”

Nesta raised a brow. “Maybe I’m the one to keep you safe.”

Cassian sighed. “You can’t ever just say okay, can you?”

Nesta pretended to think about it. “No.”

Yet, with a wicked smile, she dragged him by his hand to the parking lot - which was nothing more than a field marked off with rope - until they were at his truck. Still holding her hand, Cassian opened the passenger side door and helped Nesta up inside before rounding the truck and climbing up behind the wheel. 

The ride to the corn maze had been okay. Conversation had been awkward. Not bad, but a little forced. The ride to the bar was nothing like that. It was brief, but by the time Cassian put the truck in park and cut the engine, he had Nesta dabbing at her eyes as she laughed at a story he was telling her about a prank he and Azriel had pulled on Rhys when they were in high school.

“To this day, he can’t stand the smell of tartar sauce,” he said, shaking his head as unbuckled his seatbelt.

She did the same, laughter still shaking her shoulders. “I don’t blame him, I don’t think I can think of it the same way either.”

With a grin, he opened the door, hopping down and rounded the truck. When he opened her door, he offered her his hand. “You waited this time.”

Her cheeks darkened just a bit, but her eyes sparkled as she said, “Well, I wouldn’t have wanted to take your chance to be a gentleman away.”

“Again,” he added.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Again.”

After taking his hand, Nesta hopped down from the cab and he locked the truck behind them as they made their way inside the bar. It was pretty busy but they managed to find a little table tucked into the back. 

“What’re you drinking?” Cassian asked after Nesta plopped onto the bench.

Nesta lifted a brow. “Surprise me.”

Cassian chuckled. “You trust me that much?”

“We’re about to find out,” Nesta crooned.

Suddenly nervous, Cassian made his way to the bar and waited for the bartender to find her way towards him. He took the time to decide what drink best represented Nesta Archeron.

In the end, he returned to the table with two drinks and two shot glasses.

“What’d you get?” She asked, eyeing the drinks as she set them on the table.

“Jack and Coke,” he said, hovering his hand over the first. Then the second. “Vodka cranberry.” Then he slid one of the shot glasses in front of her and took the other himself. “And a shot of tequila for us both, in case you hate either of those.” 

Grinning, she looked back at the drinks. “And if I want the Jack?”

“Then it looks like I’ll be having a pink drink tonight.”

Rolling her eyes, Nesta nudged the Jack and Coke closer to him and took the other. “I like both, but this is my favorite.” She picked up the shot glass and held it out to him. “Cheers.”

Clinking his glass against hers, Cassian tossed it back, before placing it top down on the table. He did his best not to make a face, but found himself chasing his shot with his drink. Blowing out a brisk breath, he asked, “So am I to assume that haunted corn mazes aren’t a part of your yearly Halloween traditions?”

Nesta shook her head, leaning back in her seat. “Absolutely not. I’ve never even been to a haunted house. Feyre and Elain used to try and get me to take them in high school, before they could drive, but I’ve never liked it.”

“Me either.” He drummed his fingers on the table next to his drink. “Why would I want to pay someone to scare me shitless?”

With a laugh, Nesta agreed. “What about you? Anything you do for Halloween every year?”

“Pumpkin carving. Hands down.”

Nesta scrunched her nose.

Cassian blinked. “Do you have…an issue with pumpkin carving?”

“It’s so messy,” she said, sipping from her drink. “And I hate the feeling of all the guts between my fingers. No, thank you.”

Cassian shakes his head, eyes narrowed in her direction. “What kind of person hates pumpkins? Who hurt you?”

“I like pumpkins.” Nesta laughed. “I just like them intact.” 

“You’re missing out,” he said, and his toe nudged hers until the table and lingered. “Maybe you should give it another try. Maybe you’ve done it wrong.”

“You’re very passionate about carving pumpkins,” Nesta chuckled.

“I prefer calling it pumpkin art, but yes I am.”

Nesta laughed again and Cassian stared at her in awe. It was nice to see her laugh, smile, be happy instead of glaring daggers in his direction.

He looked away from her, his finger circling the rim of his glass. “You could come over, one night this week, if you wanted. We could carve a couple pumpkins. I’ll handle the guts, all you’d have to do is the fun part.”

Raising her eyebrows, Nesta asked, “And what exactly is the fun part? The stabbing?” 

“That and realizing that what you carved looks absolutely nothing like what you planned.”

With a snort, Nesta asked, “I thought you said it was pumpkin art?”

“I did,” he replied with a shrug, but the corner of his mouth was lifted up in a smirk. “But I never said it was good art.”

Tipping her head back, Nesta laughed. When she was done, she brought her glass to her lips and took a drink. “I’d love that.”

Cassian was almost shocked by her revelation. “Yeah?” She nodded but Cassian tried not to get his hopes up too much. “How about Wednesday?”

Nesta slowly set her glass back down. For a second, she hesitated, but then she said, “I can do Wednesday.”

Nearly dropping his glass, Cassian stared across the table. She was not only on a date with him now, but agreed to another in only a few days time. 

Either he was dreaming…or she was already drunk.

Maybe a bit of both. 

After a few more drinks, Cassian glanced at the clock over the bar and saw that it was pushing midnight. “We should probably go. You said you work at nine?”

With a groan, Nesta nodded. She worked at the library on campus and the librarian was not lenient about tardiness and attendance. “Bright and early.”

Drumming his fingers on the table, Cassian stood. “I’ll pay our tab and we can get out of here.”

By the time he returned, Nesta had finished her drink and was slipping her purse over her head.

His hand fell to the small of her back as they left, the crack of pool balls and droning of the jukebox in the corner fading as they walked out the front door.

As soon as they were outside, Nesta shivered. “It’s definitely fall,” she said, tucking her hands under her arms.

With a laugh, Cassian wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her into his side, not letting himself second guess the move. “It’s almost like you should have worn that coat I mentioned when I picked you up.”

“I’d rather be cold than admit defeat,” she joked, but Cassian sensed there was a bit of truth to it, even as she leaned further into him. “Besides, you seem to like my lack of a coat.”

He did. “I wouldn’t like it if you were to die of hypothermia.”

Nesta snorted. “Once again, look who's being overdramatic.”

She let him open her door and help her into the truck, before it roared to life and he headed back into Velaris. On the ride back to her apartment, Nesta admitted she’d never been to a high school football game, much to Cassian’s dismay.

“What did you even do on Friday nights?” He demanded, glancing over at her as they stopped at a red light.

“Stayed in and read.” She said it like it should have been obvious, and honestly, it probably should have been.

“We’ll have to fix that, too,” Cassian said, just as the light turned green. “There’s nothing like being under those lights, the sounds of the game.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “There’s also nothing like curling up in bed with a good book.”

Cassian shook his head, amused. “You can’t tell me that reading is better than a real life experience.”

“Football is not a real life experience,” Nesta protested but that playfulness in her tone remained. “It’s a sport where people are either getting injured or praised way too much. Sometimes both.”

Cassian looked over to find her already watching him with the smallest of grins on her mouth. “So hateful.”

“I could say the same for you,” she crooned.

“Fine,” Cassian laughed. “You come with me to a game and I’ll read whatever book you give me.”

Eyebrows raising, Nesta asked, “Whatever book I give you? Any book of my choosing?”

“I already feel like I’m going to regret this, but yes.” Cassian pulled into the parking lot of Nesta’s building. “Any book of your choosing, as much or as little smut as you want.”

Nesta’s cheeks darkened. “I’ll start thinking then.”

He put the truck into park, looking over at her. “I can’t wait.”

The cab of the truck was silent, as her eyes met his. It felt quiet, intimate, safe. Softly, like speaking too loudly would shatter whatever was building between them, Nesta said, “I had fun tonight. Despite getting the shit scared out of me.”

“Me too,” Cassian agreed, hardly more than a whisper. “Can I walk you to your door?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved.

The realization that Cassian had no idea what to do was daunting. He had never had trouble with women before but Nesta was a different breed. He’d waited years for this moment and now that it was here, he felt he was walking on glass and it would shatter beneath him at any given moment.

Nesta cleared her throat when the silence dragged on. “Should I get my door this time or���?”

That set Cassian in motion and by the time he rounded the truck and opened her door, she was doing her best — and failing — to hide her grin.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, taking her hand and helping her down.

Her laughter was quiet, but she didn’t let go of his hand as they headed up the stairs and to her door.

“So I’ll come over Wednesday?” She asked, and it was more than Cassian could have hoped for. He’d half expected her to change her mind, to pretend she forgot, and move on.

“Yes, I mean, yeah.” He was stumbling over his words and he cleared his throat. “I’ve got a bio chem lab that lets out at three, but I’m free anytime after that.”

“Then I’ll be there after three,” she said.

Cassian's hand tightened in hers as they stood on her doormat. “Sounds good.”

“Good.” With one last smile that had Cassian feeling weak, Nesta turned towards her door.

Before he could think twice, Cassian pulled on her hand and pulled her towards him until their mouths met, softly. He was still walking that line of caution even if caution was the last thing on his mind.

But she kissed him back, each touch sweet and gentle and nothing like he expected a kiss with her to be like, but far better.

He cupped her face, her lips soft and lush against his, and breathed in her scent before stepping back. The blush on her cheeks was beautiful, her eyes bright, and her breathing was shallow and quick. He wanted to kiss her again, something more than the quick meeting of their lips, but he forced himself to take another step back, to head towards his truck. “I’ll see you Wednesday,” he said, gaze locked on hers.

“Wednesday,” she repeated, voice soft, and unlocked her door. It opened with a creak and she stepped inside. “Goodnight, Cassian.”

The door closed and he was left staring at her autumn-themed wreath. So soft, there was no way she could have heard it, he breathed, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

[ncssian]

no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too

i'm finally clearing out the half-written drabbles that've been rotting in my drafts since 2022

***

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Nesta inhaled. For the first time since Cassian had reconnected with her, she looked truly enraged. More than that, she looked broken. “How can you say you love me after everything you’ve done to me?”

He scrambled for the right thing to say, wondering whether it wasn’t too late to backpedal on his confession, wondering whether she’d even believe him if he did. “I know—” he tried to say.

"What do you know? Do you know how I wake up in the middle of the night terrified I'll never move on from you? How I imagine having to tell my friends that the reason I can’t date men is because I can’t get past the man who treated me like shit six years ago?”

There it was. Her deepest, darkest fear, something she’d never have admitted to a single soul if she’d had the choice.

Not because she didn’t want to admit it, but because there was no one to admit it to. No one who could keep her secrets safe or face the wreckage of her bare soul without judgement.

“It’s like I slayed the monster but his ghost still haunts me,” she went on, emotion threading her voice. “You’re the fucking ghost, Cassian.”

“Living is already so hard for me,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest to hold her unraveling heart together. “And you make it worse.”

Cassian was at a loss for words— Nesta had snatched them all out of the air. He scrambled for something to say so he wouldn’t have to stare at her blankly like an idiot and upset her even more.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. There’s everything wrong with me, but never you. Anyone who thinks otherwise doesn’t care about you the way they should.”

“I don’t need advice from you,” she hissed. “You’re in no place to comfort me. I’d take a cockroach’s opinion before I respected yours.”

He bowed his head low. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know how to be here without hurting her. He didn’t know how to leave, either.

[separatist-apologist]

Give Me Something Beautiful

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

Note: MANAGE YOUR EXPECTATIONS

Read on AO3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Such a fight. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Almost. 

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

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

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

Look at me, look at me, look—

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

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

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

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

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

Cauldron fuck me, Rhys said. 

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

“You said—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’ll see,” he replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The thought was tempting.

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

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

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

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

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

“Even if I break the bond?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you like to find out?” 

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

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

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

“What will this do?”

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

“Buy yourself time until I arrive.”

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

You’re a man, aren’t you? 

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

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

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

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

“And then what?” she whispered. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night, Nes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No more fae—”

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

He touched her cheek again.

“Sleep well, Nes.”

“Good night, Cassian.”

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

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

He only shrugged. “When I can.”

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

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

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

“Cassian—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could go home tonight if you wanted?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

She hesitated at the door. “Well–”

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

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

“Good night, Cassian.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You always come at the exact same time—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You could never disappoint me, Cassian.”

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

She didn’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cassian?”

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

“Be safe.”

He smiled. 

I love you too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me what to do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wouldn’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you imagine?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even if it was torture to do so. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t a question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Darkness swept over him again.

You failed. 

You promised.

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

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

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

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

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

“Cass—”

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

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

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

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

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

“You died.” 

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

“I promised to keep you safe—”

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

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

“I think I came back wrong.”

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

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

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

Nesta pressed her forehead to his. “Okay.”

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

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

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

She took a breath. “Together.”

[rosanna-writer]

I wish you would write a fic where...

Honestly I am super interested in the exy fic you started or more Rhys pov from we said hello

BUT if you’re taking prompts for new fics….Feysand modern or canon divergent au there’s a love triangle with Cassian. Feyre meets Cass first but feels a pull towards Rhys she can’t explain. 🫠

Both the exy fic and more WSH Rhys POVs are next on the docket, anon! Some of my inspo for exy!Feyre's story was the whole Jalen Hurts/Tua Tagovailoa college football saga, so football playoffs have my brain buzzing with sports fic excitement again (GO BIRDS!), and I really want to write Rhys's POV of his first meeting with Nesta in we said hello, too. Anyway, I took the whole Cassian love triangle thing as a drabble prompt, so here you go, sorry not sorry for the angst:

Rhys marveled at the sight of Feyre asleep on the sofa. Here she was, in a sitting room in the House of Wind, finally getting some rest without nightmares to disturb her. She deserved all of that and more.

His heart swelled—even if it was Cassian's arm around Feyre instead of his.

And perhaps he'd been too obvious about his staring because his brother said, switching to Illyrian just in case Feyre woke up, "This doesn't bother you, does it?"

Something inside Rhysand shattered every single time his mate glanced Cassian's way. But the High Lord of the Night Court had always been a skilled liar, a trait that the last fifty years had only amplified. So without a moment of hesitation, he said, "Of course not."

"Don't give me that. I've seen the way you look at her." Cassian said it gently, without a hint of accusation.

Perhaps it was impossible to fool the brother who'd known him for centuries. They'd grown up together, worked together, laughed together, fought together, healed together. Rhys could give Cassian the gift of a half-truth, even if he kept the bond a secret. "I'm just glad it's you and not Tamlin," he said. "You'd never hurt her, and you're the reason she doesn't look like a ghost anymore. Someone like you is what she needs. Someone...good."

None of the previous sacrifices to keep his family safe had ever hurt this much, not even all those nights he'd spent warming Amarantha's bed. But on some level, he'd known all along if he had a mate, he'd have to give her up.

To avoid looking at the relief in Cassian's eyes, Rhys downed the last of his whiskey. He stood, ready to fly back to the townhouse alone. If Feyre was already asleep here, it only made sense that she'd spend the night in Cassian's bed.

"You get some sleep, too," Cassian said. "Tomorrow's going to be a battle. I can feel it."

Rhys slid his hands into his pockets. "Feyre's never spoken highly of her sisters, but convincing them to help us get that book from the queens can't be worse than fighting a war."

"Something tells me all the weapons in the world won't be enough to protect me from meeting Nesta Archeron."

[asnowfern]

For @nessianweek day 3: Song Association

A/N: This line in Angels Like You by Miley Cyrus really reminded me of post-acowar Nessian. Here's a little accompanying drabble below the cut!

Nesta's eyes were closed, her ears straining to ignore everything but the live music of the tavern. When she felt the larger than life presence that took the seat next to hers, she did not open her eyes or acknowledge the newcomer.

There is only the music, she told herself. The lively beat, the lilting vocals, the accompanying strings, the-

Slight drum of fingers.

Her train of thought slammed to a halt, brakes screeching loudly in protest. Her eyes flew open and she pointedly did not look to her side and downed her glass, slamming it against the table. The wooden surface shook slightly in the echo of the impact.

"Careful not to break the glass on your hand, sweetheart," the voice teased.

Nesta did not need to ask why he was here. It was obvious. Just like how every crack of the fireplace was just as much of a reminder. She did not need a funeral or say goodbye to the headstone.

Crack.

She suppressed a shudder to little effect.

Not when she let him die with hatred and bitterness in her heart, his empty glassy eyes etched into her cursed immortal brain. She did not deserve forgiveness, she did not deserve closures. And she did not deserve the male next to her.

Before she could stop herself, she sneaked a peek at the Illyrian male next to her. His hazel eyes were trained at the rows of liquor bottles behind the bar, broad fingers lightly toyed with his glass, swirling it occasionally. The dim faelights reflected some of his striking features while also obscuring his face with dancing shadows, almost dragging him down to the darkness. To her.

Nesta could've sworn she saw those idle fingers twitch at his side as the edge of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. He knew she was staring, was a moment from making a lewd comment about it. So she cuts in, swiftly picking up a second drink off the bar counter and gulping it down. This time, she lets it crash its way back to the surface almost a little too close to his hand.

Cassian didn't flinch. Instead, he turned to her, brow raised, "You are more likely to hurt yourself than me with these little smashes."

She huffed and stood up abruptly, snatching up a random bottle of wine and left the establishment. The tavern owners knew enough by now who bankrolled her ever growing tab.

He followed close behind, trailing back barely half a step, his hulking form easily clearing the path for them. Eventually, they stopped in a quiet corner.

Nesta spun herself around, icy blue glaring up fiercely at dancing hazel, and demanded, 'How long are you going to follow me around?'

"I didn't think you wanted to be alone today," he shrugged.

The next cutting words bubbled, indignant at his presumptuousness, but died at her lips as his face softened, at his eyes that held such gentle concern and affection. Her heart sputtered and wreaked havoc on her bodily functions. Instead the words that spilled out were, "Take me somewhere only you know"

He paused for a beat before his recently healed wings spread and stretched, strong arms gently securing themselves around her. Without a word, they took off smoothly into the dark sky.

He landed them in an old clock tower. It wasn't the tallest nor the newest clock tower in the city. The large rust covered bell hovered creakily next to them. Yet, the view.

Oh, the view.

It was a perfect unobstructed view of the bridge and Sidra, the snow capped Illyrian mountains flanking it like a protective guardian.

More than that, it was quiet. Nothing but the lulling melody of the spring wind in their faces.

"I spent a lot of time here during those forty nine years. Just drinking, worrying," he confessed, his mind lost to the past, "hating myself for letting him go into danger alone, for failing as his general, his brother."

She recognised the moment for what it was, a shared vulnerability, a truce. She looped an arm around an elbow and squeezed slightly. You didn't fail.

Calloused fingers interlaced with hers, squeezing back reassuringly. And you're not alone. Not today, never. His thumb rubbed soothing circles. I'm here.

They didn't speak, not verbally. But his shoulders would nudge almost playfully at hers. His wings eventually unfurled to wrap around them when she shivered with the wind. Her eyes followed the trail of scarred membranes on his wings, the sound of agonised screams echoed in her head, a reminder of her failures.

Crack.

Nesta felt her body beginning to shake.

A comforting hand lifted hers to the wing, gently pressing soft fingertips to the scars on the hard and strong bony structure, it's fine. I'm fine, we're fine.

In the darkness of a sleeping Velaris, surrounded by the singing breeze and protective mountains, Nesta found the words slipping past her lips, "Wings like yours will only get dragged to hell with me"

The leathered wings curled tighter around them as low tones vibrated down her spine, "Wings like these are meant to fly you out of hell."

[tadpolesonalgae]

Really like the idea of a vampire couple being yandere for reader tbh. At first I thought feysand but I really think nessian would suit it better 🤔

Omgomgomgomg vampire anything and I am immediately captured and unhinged 🧡💛

I'm doing some work on Mercy, Devil part 3 where they all come to an agreement (because let's be real, reader getting to live in a luxurious castle with a big luxurious bed, and dine on big luxurious meals is a pretty good deal) and things kind of calm down a little and there's like a slight element of fluff and comfort mixed in with the macabre vibe?

There's also another vampire piece I'm working on that's more lore-angst leaning which I'm kind of curious if people will enjoy or not? I think cbmthy and The Other Woman are the only pieces I've written that are openly angsty so I don't really know if anyone who enjoys my writing will be into that? Since it's not my usual, or my forte?

As for vampire feysand vs. vampire nessian...? Ordinarily I think I'd pick Feysand as the vampiric couple and Nessian as like werewolf bf x witch gf, but Nesta would also make a wonderful vampire, plus the angle of slight obsession...? Maybe reader's been sold into a blood brothel and Cassian has a good nose for flavour and is drawn inside to seek reader out, then neither of them can manage to leave her alone so buy her out of the contract? I think that could be a wonderful concept 😳🤭

[ofduskanddreams]

All That Matters

For @c-e-d-dreamer and @cassianappreciationweek day 4. The request: Nessian. Any setting of your choosing, but how about something soft and sweet?

Nessian ✦ Rated M ✦ 867 words ✦ on AO3

CW: CANON-TYPICAL DEPICTION OF VIOLENCE

They sat on the river bank until the sun was fat and low in the sky, its orange fingers slinking through the willow boughs.

There was only the steady rise and fall of Cassian’s chest at her back, the warmth of him bleeding into her veins, and the I-love-you-s murmured back and forth at the same volume as the Sidra’s soft rush.

“Are you awake?” he whispered against her temple after a longer stretch of silence.

“For now,” Nesta replied, shifting to look at him. “But I’m not sure for how much longer.”

The reality of the last two days was finally settling into her bones now that the adrenaline had evaporated. The Rite, Briallyn, Nyx’s birth… exhaustion was lead seeping into her limbs and weighing them down, trying to draw her wholly into its grasp.

“Let’s go home then.” Cassian stood, then scooped her off the grass and into his arms. He launched them skyward and Nesta closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, the world had stilled again and Cassian was saying something. “... know you’re tired, but I need you to try to eat something first.”

He sounded so gentle, so worried about her, and Nesta smiled as she opened her eyes. This male—capable of a ferocity to rival the gods, yet wearing his heart for all to see… “I love you,” Nesta told him again, just because she could and it was decadent.

The house delivered them enough food for a small army, and Nesta managed to put away a plate and a half before her yawns began arriving at a frequency that made eating inconvenient.

Cassian noticed, of course he did. “Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can sleep.”

Nesta considered protesting, a testament to the extent of her exhaustion considering that she hadn’t bathed in over a week, but knew she would regret going to bed layered in the residue of the Rite.

Cassian ran the bath as she sat on the edge of the counter and watched him move about the room. He helped her out of her clothes, his touch mindful of the bruises still littering her skin. He joined her in the bath, carefully maneuvering her tired limbs until she was leaning back against him again. 

With a soft cloth, he worked honey-scented soap into a lather and began to clean away the grime. It was all Nesta could do to keep from dozing off.

But her closing eyelids snapped open when her mate took a shuddering breath that turned into a bitten off sob. Nesta turned around so quickly that she sent water careering over the sides.

“I could have killed you,” Cassian whispered in horror, looking down at his hands—they were trembling. 

She took his shaking fingers in her own and squeezed. “You didn’t. You fought her.” Nesta shuddered as she remembered the sight of Cassian plunging that knife into his own chest rather than hers.

He shook his head, “I wanted to hurt you, Nes. It was…” he trailed off, looking to the side and squeezing his eyes shut. 

A crystalline droplet streaked down his stubbled cheek and Nesta caught it with her thumb, coaxing him to face her.

“You weren’t yourself. That feeling wasn’t you—it was Briallyn and the Crown.”

The pain in his hazel eyes echoed through her and she drew him into her arms, holding him as tightly as she could.

“I thought…” Cassian drew a deep breath and held it, blowing it out slowly. “I thought I might never see you again. When I arrived at Emerie’s and you were missing, the smell of those males, of the drugs…” he shivered, putting his nose to her neck and taking another controlled breath. 

“I thought I might have lost you and then to see you on that mountain, to be a puppet, forced to watch myself try to harm you without knowing if I could resist it… gods, Nesta, I was so scared.”

He lost his grip on the rhythm of his lungs, breaths turning shallow again. 

“You did resist her, Cassian. That’s the only thing that matters.” Nesta traced patterns on his back and around the base of his wings as she held him. 

The house kept the water at a steady temperature even as their fingers wrinkled. Eventually, the tide of emotion Cassian had clearly been holding back receded. They took turns helping each other wash. 

A tired yet comfortable silence settled between them as they climbed out of the bath, hastily dried off, and then collapsed into her bed. 

In the darkness, her mouth found Cassian’s, and she kissed him, pouring everything she felt into the touch: relief, gratitude, and more love than Nesta had ever imagined herself to be capable of. 

Her friends and family were safe and healthy. She had her mate, and her home. There were many unresolved problems, sure, but they would still be there in the morning. 

All Nesta cared about now was the steady beat of Cassian’s heart beneath her ear. His even breaths filled the quiet, starlit room and Nesta’s lungs slowed their pace to match as she finally allowed reality to drift as dreamless sleep embraced her. 

✦ ✦ ✦

tagging: @damedechance @itsthedoodle @moodymelanist @areyoudreaminof @octobers-veryown @krem-does-stuff @iftheshoef1tz @moonpatroclus @panicatthenightcourt @thelovelymadone @talons-and-teeth

[slytherhys]

12 Days of Christmas - ACOTAR Edition

This is officially the last chapter of the 12 Days of Christmas series! I want to thank everyone who took a little of their time to read these stories. You guys mean the world to me and I'm so lucky to be able to write to such an amazing fandom. Every comment, every like, every reblog means everything to me and I take your appreciation with me every time I'm writing a new story.

You can also find this series on AO3

12th day of christmas - Christmas Dinner

A Blessing. All of it - Rhysand Drabble

The High Lord of the Night Court wasn’t known to be a very emotional male. He had a reputation all across Prythian, and it certainly wasn’t one that spoke of his sensitivities. He had a role to fill, and he had filled it gladly in order to protect his family. To protect Feyre.

That High Lord, however, was nowhere to be found tonight.

As his inner circle gathered around the dining table, chatting, and eating, Rhysand couldn’t help but feel unfiltered joy settle deep into his bones. Wherever he looked, love and happiness shone as bright as the candles flickering on the table, sending a warm haze all around the living room. The scent of holly and pine was as strong as scent of the meal Elain, Nuala and Cerridwen had so carefully prepared - and not nearly as mouthwatering.

By his side, Feyre sipped her wine as she chatted with Morrigan about her studio, his cousin offering her own advice every once in a while. Azriel, on the other side of the table, seemed too enthralled by whatever Elain was telling him to even notice the smile blooming on his face - a rare sight to see. For her part, Elain seemed just as enchanted. Across from Rhys, Nesta and Amren were engaged in a heated debate about books, Cassian chewing his food and nervously looking on as if prepared to intervene if necessary.

Rhys looked down at the babe drooling all over his shirt, a smile tugging up at his lips. Nyx had crashed only minutes after they had all sat down for dinner, the excitement of his first Solstice too draining for his tiny body. His little first was wrapped around Rhysand's sweater, his covered, little feet kicking him in the stomach every so often, as if Nyx was trying to take flight in his own dreams. Rhys was completely enraptured. Incredulous, too, seemed appropriate, for the truth was that he had lived many, many lives – had known loss, and heartbreak, and pain. But never had he known happiness like this; love like this. He’d never imagined he'd be deserving of it in the first place.

Now, he couldn’t imagine it being any different. Every tortuous road had led him to this table, surrounded by the people he had loved the most. As hard as it had been, they had all found each other – broken and lost – and against all odds they had made a family. A bickering, messy, but true family.

As he rubbed his son’s back, as he felt Feyre’s hand reach out for his under the table, he could feel no regrets - what had made him cold and lethal to the world had been what allowed them all to be here tonight. For that alone, he would not - could not - have changed a thing. No, he simply looked up at the stars and thanked them - tonight, there was no war, no duels, no political scheming. For at least tonight, it was their turn to just be.

And what a blessing that was.