#nessianweek2021

[mehx1000]

more nessian

[simpingfornestaarcheron]

Nessian week: free day ✨

@nessianweek​

NSFW! But also fluff and a bit of angst 🤏🏼

word count: 3.500

@julemmaes read this and told me “thank you for everything you do for this fandom”

Cassian reached the roof of the House of wind and slammed open the door, crossing the space in a few strides and coming to a halt at the edge of the training ring. And there she was. His very stubborn and very pregnant wife, running laps with the rest of the Valkyries. Hair braided simply, cheeks flushed, training leathers hugging her body tightly, straining over her swollen stomach. At seven months pregnant, she was a sight to behold. The few pounds she had gained during the pregnancy only made her more beautiful in Cassian’s eyes, and he had made it his own personal mission to show her how much he loved the changes in her body. He never missed an opportunity to tell her how beautiful she looked, making her blush and roll her eyes every single time.

Despite how much he adored his mate, Cassian was struggling to keep his anger in check. The healer said training wouldn’t hurt her or the baby, but they also said that she needed to take it easy, especially during the last trimester. But his Nesta was stubborn and insisted on training with her friends every morning. Her form was still perfect, her blows sharp and fast, but Cassian could feel the strain of his mate’s body, the effort it took her to keep up with the rest of the girls.

Gwyn and Emerie jogged on either sides of Nesta, the three of them almost running and breathing in sync. However, Cassian observed how the second and third in command of the Valkyries were jogging slower than usual, as if they were trying to match Nesta’s pace without her noticing. He met Emerie’s eyes for a brief second, and the Illyrian gave him an almost imperceptible nod that meant ‘I got her.’ He made a mental note to thank her and Gwyn later.

All he wanted to do was throw Nesta over his shoulder, carry her inside and tuck her into bed with a tray of food and one of her smutty romances, but he was fairly sure she would make him sleep on the couch for a week so he decided against it. Besides, judging from the size of her bump, he wasn’t even sure he could throw her over his shoulder without hurting the baby. In the end, he settled for standing on the edge of the training area, arms crossed and eyes tracking Nesta’s every breath. His eyes took note of her slightly sweaty forehead before slowly making their way down the rest of her body. His intent was to make sure she wouldn’t exert herself, but his traitorous eyes fell on the swell of her breasts, the plush globes bouncing with every step. Among the changes Nesta’s pregnancy had brought to her body, the growth of her breasts was definitely Cassian’s favorite. His blood immediately rushed south, images of his mate’s moans as he kneaded the plump flesh filling his head. Nesta must have scented his arousal and decided to torture him because she sent him a very explicit image through the bond. Naughty witch, he thought as he turned to subtly adjust his pants.

He felt her stumble before he even heard her knee hit the ground, and in a heartbeat he was there, hands on either sides of her body to stop her from falling forward. Later he realized that Gwyn and Emerie had both gripped her elbows, preventing her face and hands from hitting the ground, but he didn’t care: his pregnant mate had stumbled, and he almost hadn’t reached her in time. Nesta could have hurt herself and the baby, all because he had been too distracted by his selfish fantasies to notice that she was too tired to keep running. His eyes scanned every inch of her as he helped her up, frantically checking for any sign of discomfort. He couldn’t hear anything beside the roaring of his blood in his ears, every instinct in his body screaming at him to do something, protect her, mold his body around hers and never let her go.

“Training is over,” he said as he scooped her into his arms and strode towards the door, not sparing a glance at the rest of the females.

Nesta didn’t protest, only looped her arms around his neck and let him carry her inside. She kept silent as he settled her on the couch, crouching down to remove her shoes and pants before gently checking her knee. There wasn’t even a scrap on her, no swelling or bruise, nor did she seem to be in any kind of pain, but Cassian still grabbed a chunk of ice from the freezing larder, wrapped it in a towel and placed it on her knee.

Kneeling next to the couch, he placed a hand on Nesta’s stomach, and only when he felt his baby kick did he allow himself to breathe. He smiled as he felt the impression of his daughter’s small feet against his palm, and a lone tear slid down his cheek.

A delicate finger lifted his chin, and he found himself looking at those blue-grey eyes he adored so much, the ones that had enraptured him since day one. “We’re fine,” his wife said, her first words since that morning. There was no sign of suffering on her face, only quiet calm. She reached for him through the bond, letting him feel what he had been too shaken to realize before: her knee had barely grazed the ground, and all she had felt was a slight shock when she’d tripped and stumbled forward. She was fine.

Releasing a trembling breath, Cassian dropped his forehead on her stomach, more tears escaping from the corners of his eyes. Nesta cradled the back of his head with a hand, keeping him there, the other rubbing soothing circles on his back as he breathed in and out slowly, filling his lungs with her scent.

“You were right, you know? I need to slow down a bit with my training,” she said after a few minutes.

Relief filled him, easing the tightness in his chest, but he didn’t move from his spot on the floor. “Did you hear what I said? It’s not every day I admit you were right.”

That pulled a laugh out of him, and he finally looked up at her again. “I’m shocked sweetheart, I think that’s only happened twice in two hundred years of marriage,” he laughed before kissing her lips. He had intended for the kiss to be short and sweet, but Nesta held his face between her hands and pressed her mouth more firmly on his. She tasted like future mixed with a hint of chocolate chip cookies, and he couldn’t help but smile through the kiss. That’s when he noticed her lips were slightly chapped, so he pulled away and stood to retrieve a glass of water.

“Maybe I hit my head and didn’t notice,” she said as Cassian filled the glass. Whipping his head towards her, he threw her an irritated look. “Don’t joke about that.”

Nesta scoffed and rolled her eyes before accepting the glass Cassian handed her and taking a sip. “Is there any way I can convince you not to send for Madja?” She asked.

Cassian wasn’t even surprised she knew him well enough to know he had been thinking about calling the healer. “Nope.”

“Overbearing bat.”

 —-

 Majda’s visit was brief. The healer had checked first her leg, then her vitals and the baby’s, and she hadn’t found anything wrong. All the while, Cassian had been hovering by the door, monitoring everything the old woman did and taking notes. The two women had shared knowing looks, fighting their smiles. After Madja had left, Cassian had insisted Nesta spent the rest of the day in bed, head propped up on a few pillows while he massaged her swollen feet and calves. She couldn’t deny that it was nice, laying on the soft mattress as her husband took care of her. Their life had been pretty hectic lately, both their jobs keeping them busy. There was always something to do, a situation to take care of, a meeting or party to attend, and it had been a while since they had treated themselves to a day off.

As Cassian rubbed salve on her calves, his calloused hands scraping deliciously over her skin, Nesta remembered how those hands felt on other parts of her body, realizing it had been far too long since she and Cassian had been intimate with each other. During the first months of her pregnancy, the two of them had almost spent more time naked that they did during their mating frenzy, but since the start of her last trimester her mate had been reluctant to have sex, saying he didn’t want to hurt the baby. Despite having read countless books, every single one of them stating it was completely safe to engage in all kinds of sexual activities during pregnancy, Cassian still wanted to play it safe, opting for pleasuring her with his hands or mouth without letting her reciprocate. She missed feeling him inside her, having him groan into her neck as he brought them both to complexion. Her nipples hardened at the memory, a familiar feeling settling between her legs, but if Cassian had scented her arousal, he didn’t show. He kept massaging her legs, going from the sole of her feet to the back of her knees, but never higher.

Letting out a satisfied hum, she put her book down and began unbraiding her hair. “That feels good,” she said, hoping he would take the hint. “Maybe go a bit higher. My thighs are sore from all the running I did this morning.”

Cassian didn’t even glance up at her face, but he answered her request and moved his hands higher, massaging just above her knees. Then, as if he truly was oblivious to her wishes, he began telling her about the last time he and his brothers had gone to Rita’s, when Rhysand had gotten so drunk he had fallen down the stairs. All the while, he kept his eyes trained on her legs. Rolling her eyes, Nesta picked up her book again, fully intent on reading a smutty scene aloud to let her husband know exactly what she wanted. That’s when she noticed the tightness in his shoulders and the way his nostrils kept flaring, as if he was struggling to breathe normally.

She smiled to herself, knowing it wouldn’t take long before he gave in, and decided to double her efforts to make him lose control. Taking away one of the pillows propped behind her head, she slid down the mattress, making sure the loose shirt she was wearing rode up her thighs, exposing more skin. “Higher Cass,” she said.

Cassian’s hands stilled on her legs. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as if he was trying to calm himself. Judging from the growing bulge in his pants, the action only caused him to fill his nose with the scent of her arousal, and that’s when Nesta delivered the final blow: as her foot grazed his clothed hardness, she moaned and arched her back, pushing her breasts up.

A hiss tore from his mouth and his eyes flew to her cleavage, a pained moan escaping his lips. “Sweetheart, we can’t. You need to rest.”

Smirking, Nesta kept grazing the bulge in his pants, eyeing the way his throat bobbed as he struggle to keep himself in check. She took her breasts in her hands, pushing them together. “I’m not tired.”

Control finally snapping, Cassian roughly grabbed her ankle, stilling her movements. His eyes tracked the fullness of her breasts, then the exposed skin of her thighs. “Fuck, you’ll be the death of me,” he groaned before pushing her shirt up and diving straight for her centre, placing an open-mouthed kiss on her soaked panties. Nesta moaned, but before she could lose herself in the feeling of his mouth on her, she placed the sole of her foot on his chest and straightened her leg, pushing him away.

He fell back on the bed, throwing her a quizzical look. “I don’t want your mouth,” Nesta said. “I want your cock.”

When Cassian opened his mouth to protest, Nesta pushed herself up and took off her shirt, effectively silencing him. Cassian’s hands fisted the sheets, eyes settling hungrily on her breasts. That gave Nesta an idea. She smiled to herself and stood, then made to kneel next to the bed. Her knees hadn’t even touched the floor before Cassian pivoted and stopped her. “No, Nesta, your knee,” he protested.

She rolled her eyes and pushed his hands away so she could kneel between his legs. “Cassian. I’m fine, the only problem I have right now is that you haven’t let me do anything but lay on my back in two weeks, and while I love the fact that you’re willing to give me multiple orgasms without taking any pleasure for yourself, I miss touching you,” she said. “And I know you miss it too,” she added, palms rubbing up and down his thighs.

Cassian’s eyes flared, but he took a steadying breath and cradled her face between his hands, thumbs caressing her lower lip. Whatever he read in her eyes gave him the answer he was looking for, so he leaned down to kiss her and whispered ‘okay’ against her lips. Nesta didn’t waste any time in untying the laces of his pants, loosening them just enough to pull his cock free.

Wrapping her hand around him, she pumped a few times, watching as Cassian’s head lolled back and a muttered curse escaped his lips. Gods, she loved seeing him completely undone by her, lips parted and chest heaving as he struggled not to rock his hips into her hand. Beads of pre-cum were already leaking from the tip of his member, and Nesta used her thumb to collect them and spread them around. Without warning, she pushed his cock against his stomach and licked its underside. At the first brush of her tongue Cassian’s head snapped up, hips jumping off the bed and giving away exactly how much he had missed the feeling of her mouth on him. Nesta chuckled before taking him fully into her mouth, bobbing her head and coating his length in her saliva.

“Fuck baby, you’re so good at that,” Cassian ground out, gathering her hair in a messy ponytail to keep them away from her face, the gesture sweet and possessive at the same time.

The urge to reach down and touch herself was maddening, but she resisted, focusing on her mate. Despite how good it felt to taste him after so long, Nesta didn’t want him to come into her mouth just yet. It had been weeks since she’d been able to play, and she was in the mood to tease him a bit. Looking up at him, she took her breasts in her hands and pushed them together, moaning around Cassian’s length. Eyes darting between her mouth and chest, Cassian cursed under his breath, wings flaring wide behind him.

It was then that Nesta pulled away with a wet pop, making a show of licking her lips. Slowly, she lifted a single finger and dragged it from her lower lip to her throat, then down to the valley between her breasts, watching as her mate realized what she intended to do.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart,” he cursed, quickly scooting to the edge of the bed and guiding his hardness between her breasts. Twin moans escaped them as his throbbing length made contact with her chest, and then Nesta began moving, lifting up slightly and sinking down again. Cassian groaned, eyes fixed on where his cock, already lubricated with Nesta’s saliva from the earlier blowjob, glided easily between the plump flesh. “Did I ever tell you how much I love your tits, sweetheart?” He ground out. “They’re fucking perfect.”

Nesta chuckled, still bouncing up and down. “Of course I know, you perv. I saw you staring at them earlier. There was drool running down your chin,” she panted.

He barked a laugh, then let go of her hair and braced his hands on the mattress, watching her work. The golden brown strands fell over her shoulders, and Nesta saw a familiar look settle in Cassian’s lust glazed eyes, something she could only describe as adoration. After two centuries, she wasn’t surprised when he smiled and murmured, “you’re beautiful.”

Nesta smiled back. “Don’t go soft on me now, General.”

“Baby, my cock is between your tits, there’s no fucking way I’m going soft,” he answered.

“Good. But just to make sure.” She dropped her gaze to the head of Cassian’s cock, to its tip that appeared and disappeared between the heavy globes, and began sucking it into her mouth every time it pumped through. In response, Cassian’s wings flared, spreading wide and knocking a lamp down from the nightstand. It fell with a loud crash, but neither of them seemed to care.

“Hold these for me,” she instructed as she glanced at her chest.

“Fuck”, he cursed again as his hands flew to her breasts, pushing them together while rolling her nipples between his fingers, careful not to squeeze too roughly. Pregnancy had rendered her breasts extremely sensitive, but Cassian knew how to touch them without hurting her. The feeling of his expert hands on her skin sent a new wave of wetness between her legs, so she pushed her panties aside and began touching herself, moaning around the head of Cassian’s cock. She wasn’t going to last long, and judging from the way he was panting and groaning, neither was Cassian. As if on cue, his hips jumped up again and he began fucking her tits, the full flesh all but spilling from his calloused hands.

Her thighs burned from the effort of bobbing up and down, but the promise of a mind shattering orgasm, both hers and her mate’s, kept her going. Suddenly, Nesta felt something graze her back and hummed in approval, knowing exactly what it was. The lower edge of Cassian’s wings curved under her ass cheeks, helping her movements and allowing her tired muscles a reprieve.

Feeling how close Cassian was, Nesta released the head of his cock from her mouth. “Where do you want to finish?” She panted.

“On your chest, baby. I want my come all over your gorgeous tits,” he ground out as he pushed her breasts closer together to apply even more friction to his cock.

As the fingers of her right hand kept pumping in and out of her core, Nesta lifted her left hand and brushed her knuckles over the sensitive membrane of Cassian’s wing. He roared as he came, spilling all over her chest as his hips jumped up and his wings spread wide. His climax triggered hers, and when Nesta felt Cassian’s release spill on her skin she came with a loud cry, stars exploding behind her eyelids.

Falling back on her knees, she rested her forehead on Cassian’s thigh, breathing heavily as he combed his fingers through her hair.

“I love you so much,” he said as he struggled to catch his breath. Nesta hummed in response, enjoying his gentle caresses. When she didn’t make any effort to move from her spot on the floor, Cassian bent down and scooped her into his arms, placing her in his lap. She nuzzled his neck, content to be engulfed in his wonderful scent, and he kissed the top of her head, a hand rubbing circles on her belly. “Are my girls okay?” He whispered.

His warm breath ticked her temple, and Nesta smiled. “Your daughter is asleep, and your wife will join her soon,” she replied. “But when mommy wakes up, she wants you to bend her over the dresser and fuck her in front of the mirror.”

The rumble of Cassian’s chest as he laughed warmed her heart. “What mommy wants, mommy gets.”

Taglist: @sirendeepity @thewayshedreamed @letstakethedawn @bookstantrash @generalnesta @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @bookologist @rhysandswingspan @nehemikkele @claralady @swankii-art-teacher @oversizedbats @ssardothien @champanheandluxxury @positivewitch @live-the-fangirl-life @confusedfandomslut

[moodymelanist]

Prompt: Cassian taking care of drunk Nesta who’s not used to it and lets something slip about how horrificly her ex treated her but ends in fluff

ugh this is so soft but also not. @nessianweek. TW for slight discussion of previous relationships.

"Cassian, you don't have to do this," Nesta said as she stumbled down the hallway. "I'm basically home anyways."

"I definitely do," Cassian replied. He swooped forward to catch her just before she faceplanted on the ground, her little giggles making his heart soar. "As a good boyfriend, I promised I would. No taking it back now."

"Whatever," she grumbled, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down for a very sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Nesta had enjoyed a very eventful girls' night out with Gwyn and Emerie, and Cassian promised her equally drunk friends that he'd take care of her after he'd dropped them off with their respective partners. He'd only been dating Nesta for a few months he'd never seen her this drunk before, so he was strangely excited to see what kind of wild things would come out of her mouth.

He stopped in front of her apartment, managing to unlock the door even with his arms supporting her weight. "Here we go."

"My feet hurt," she whined once he'd gotten her inside. He immediately scooped her up and walked to her bedroom, her body warm and familiar against his. "Oh, is it sexy time?"

"Sweetheart, it's get you to sleep time," he replied, chuckling. She pouted as he gently deposited her on her bed but allowed him to take off her shoes. "Where's your makeup remover?"

"Bathroom," she answered, giggling again as if it were the funniest thing in the world. "One of the drawers."

"Don't go anywhere," he instructed before walking away. He found the package of wipes in the second drawer and returned to find his girlfriend in the same spot he'd left her in, albeit with her hair loose around her shoulders.

Nesta reached out for him, finding his hand and pulling him on top of her. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, sweetheart." He attempted to move away from her but her grip was firm even in her drunken state. "I can't take care of you when we're like this."

"What if I want you to take care of me like this?" she asked, attempting to wink at him. He held back a laugh as she tried and failed to wink a second time, struck by the urge to kiss her on the forehead instead of other places.

"There's always time for that," Cassian said, "But I want to help you take off your makeup, get into pajamas, and get you some snacks. I can't be the first boyfriend to do that for you, right?"

He knew he'd fucked up the moment the words left his lips. Nesta tensed from underneath him, her amusement fading into a cold, guarded expression. "I can take care of myself just fine."

"I know that," he replied, wishing he could take back what he'd said. She didn't like to talk about her previous relationship, but from what he'd gathered from various friends and the occasional comment from Nesta herself, she hadn't always been treated as well as she deserved. "I didn't... I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Nesta said after a minute. She still wasn't looking at him, which was a little awkward considering he was still on top of her.

"I know you can take care of yourself." Cassian was seized by the need to explain himself, to get her to look at him again. "But just because you can doesn't mean you should have to. That's what I'm here for, right?"

The corners of her lips tilted upwards. It wasn't a full smile yet, but he'd certainly take it. "That is in the job description, yes."

"So will I be allowed to do my job?" he asked. He shifted his weight so he could move an arm and cup her face with his now-free hand, running his thumb across her cheek. "I'll even make you tater tots."

"You have tater tots?" Nesta shifted her gaze back to him, her eyes wide with drunken excitement. "Really?"

"Really," he confirmed. He'd bought some for her last week and put them in the back of the freezer where she wouldn't see them, knowing he'd want to surprise her with them later. It was a small gift, but one he knew she'd enjoy immensely. "And maybe tomorrow we can go to that bakery you like."

"Now you're just trying to bribe me," she said.

"No bribery," he promised. "Just making sure you're all taken care of before we go to bed."

Nesta really smiled then, warming him from the inside out. "If you insist."

"No insisting, just fulfilling my promise." Cassian leaned forward and kissed her lightly, pulling away before she got distracted again. "Now hold still so I can take off this makeup."

[c-e-d-dreamer]

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

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

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

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

"What do you want, Cassian?" 

"Love the outfit today, Nes. The sparkles really contrast well with your dark soul." 

"Don't you have to go smash someone into the boards?"

"I'd love to press you up against the boards." 

Cassian throws a wink her way for extra good measure, and the way Nesta's eyes narrow has his heart ticking up slightly in his chest. 

"Prick," Nesta mumbles, opening back up her book. 

With a chuckle, Cassian takes it for the cue that it is, picking back up his bag and heading for the locker room. He offers Azriel an easy grin as he passes him, his brother merely shaking his head at his antics yet again. 

~ * * * ~ 

Nesta hears her sister before she sees her, Feyre's laughing bouncing off the walls of the lobby. She closes her book and grabs her skates, but as she heads for the door, her steps falter and pause as she takes in Elain walking in beside Feyre. 

"Since when does it take both of you to pick me up?" Nesta asks once her sisters are close enough to hear. 

"Actually," Feyre starts slowly. "We were thinking we could stick around for the game." 

"What," Nesta deadpans, taking in both her sisters' expressions and inwardly sighing when she sees they're both actually serious. "Fine. Give me the keys, and I'll pick you both up later." 

"Oh, Nesta," Elain says, taking Nesta's hand in her own. "It'll be fun. Besides, you and Cassian are friends. Don't you want to see him play?" 

"We are not friends." 

"That's for sure," Feyre pipes in. "There is way too much sexual tension for that to be considered friendship." 

Nesta shoots a glare Feyre's way, but her sister merely smiles innocently. The mischievous glint swirling in her eyes tells Nesta she's not getting the keys from her youngest sister anytime soon. Which is how Nesta ends up pressed between her two sisters, the cold of the metal bleachers biting into the underside of her thighs and a shared blanket draped across their three laps. Elain keeps clapping excitedly to her right while Feyre shouts, "go, baby, go" every time Rhysand cuts up the ice on her left. Nesta thinks her eyes might actually get stuck from rolling them so much. 

Despite the equipment and jerseys making it hard to tell the players apart, the whole team blending together into a mash of blues and gold's, Nesta finds she can pick Cassian out fairly easily. She tells herself it's because he's clearly the biggest guy on the team and the hair sticking out the back of his helmet is a dead giveaway. But either way, her eyes always seem to find him any time he's on the ice, whether he’s sweeping along the blue line to make a play or throwing his body against the other team. 

They’re into the third period when Nesta watches Cassian jump over the boards, joining the rush before falling back into the neutral zone as the other team gains possession. He guards his man well as the play shifts to their defensive zone, the other player trying and failing to shake Cassian loose. The player tries to deke around him, but Cassian is quicker, their sticks clashing together. 

It's like it all unfolds in slow motion. The puck popping up into the air between them. The other player raising his stick like he plans to bat the puck down. The stick colliding with Cassian's head. 

There's a collective gasp from the crowd watching the game as Cassian crumbles to the ice, falling onto all fours. And then there's red. A few drops at first, but soon it's a steady stream. It seeps into the ice, spreading out around Cassian like a crimson puddle. 

"Oh my gods," Feyre whispers.

"I hope he's alright," Elain chimes in. 

Nesta knows that her sisters keep speaking, but all she can hear is a ringing in her ears, like a high pitched screaming sinking its claws into her mind. Her hands fist into the blanket in her lap, and she watches with wide eyes as a trainer walks onto the ice, pulling the cage of Cassian's helmet up and sliding a towel under. With the help of two teammates, Cassian's on his feet and skates back to the bench. Nesta's stomach roils as one of the rink staffers and the referees scrape Cassian's blood from the ice, and even when the game resumes, she can't take her eyes off Cassian slumped over his knees on the bench. 

~ * * * ~ 

Cassian can't help but poke at the bandage on his forehead as he checks himself in the locker room mirror. It's still tender, and he winces at the pain that radiates from that spot. Definitely going to leave a scar. At least he got a goal tonight. Small victories. With a sigh, he shoulders his bag, grabbing his sticks by the door and heading for the rink exit. 

When he steps into the lobby, he finds Nesta standing there. Cassian knew that both her sisters were here earlier, but a quick sweep of his eyes around the room shows them nowhere to be found. When his eyes dance back to Nesta, she's already looking at him, something intense brewing in her eyes like storm clouds rolling in. It leaves Cassian captivated, and in a few strides, He’s standing in front of her, dropping his bag at their feet. 

"What are you still doing here, sweetheart?" 

Cassian throws as much cheek as he can into the question, letting that cocky grin he knows gets under her skin slide across his face. He expects Nesta to scowl, to make some snide remark back, to pick up their game right where they left off, but Nesta's face remains serious. He watches in confusion as she crosses and then uncrosses her arms across her chest, takes a deep breath like she's steeling herself. 

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright," Nesta explains, her eyes glancing up to the bandage before settling back on his own. 

"Oh," Cassian says dumbly, blinking down at Nesta a few times before his brain finally catches up. "It was just bad luck. Stick hit just right for one of the screws in my helmet to go right into my head." 

"It looked… bad." 

"Well, head wounds bleed a lot." 

Nesta nods and silence falls like a blanket between them. Cassian's brain kicks into overdrive, suddenly desperate to keep whatever this precarious moment is going, keep her talking to him, keep those eyes on his. It sparks in his chest like a piece of flint, fire burning under his skin. He's so busy floundering, trying to will his head and mouth to produce actual words, that he almost misses the frown that takes over Nesta's face, her eyes caught on his hand. 

"You're not thinking of driving, are you?" 

The sudden question takes Cassian by surprise, and Cassian’s brow furrows in confusion until he remembers his car keys are in his hand. 

"How else would I get home?" 

"You can't drive with a concussion."

"What makes you think I have a concussion?"

"How could you not have a concussion?" 

"If I had a concussion, why would I have gone back out on the ice to finish the game?"

"Because you're an idiot." 

Before Cassian can even splutter out a protest at the insult, Nesta is reaching forward and snatching the keys out of his hand. Then, for good measure, she reaches out and takes his sticks out of his hand too. 

"There's an Urgent Care like five miles away that should still be open." 

With that and a final, firm nod, as if she's decidedly made up her mind and Cassian can't change it, Nesta turns on her heel and makes for the doors. Cassian is left there gaping, blinking dumbly after her retreating form, while his sluggish brain tries to grasp what exactly is happening. Maybe he is concussed. Not giving himself another second to contemplate, Cassian scrambles to pick up his bag, tossing the strap over his shoulder as he hurries after Nesta. 

"Can I at least buy you dinner after?"

[thewayshedreamed]

Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn’t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

--

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

[talkfantasytome]

Justified Confidence

Nessian Week Prompt: Rivalry

Cassian and Nesta meet at a bar, and Cassian offers a challenge to determine the outcome of their night.

Warnings: None | Word Count: 2,111 | Read on AO3

a/n: As soon as this idea popped in my head, I knew I had to do it. Seems like something they'd do. Hope you enjoy!

Nesta strutted into the bar, taking in the atmosphere around her.

There was really nothing special about Wings and Embers. The top floor was more like a dance club - the DJ already blasting the music, loud enough down on the first floor to be heard but not to hinder conversation. The downstairs was more of a true bar. The walls were a dark red, peppered with wall lights that were dim enough to provide an 'ambience', as they would likely call it. Between the lights were various photographs of the skyline of Velaris.

In the center of the room, the black-painted bar stood in a massive, squared "U", the ends of each side up against the back wall. And scattered around the large room on either side were booths and tables for people to sit at after they got their drinks.

Thinking of…Nesta walked straight up to the bar, finding an empty stool on the left side to sit on, and flagged down a bartender. She ordered a gin and tonic and then relaxed, scanning the room as she waited.

She hadn't even received her drink yet when she met a pair of hazel eyes fixated on her from across the bar, warm and twinkling with something akin to mischief. She held the gaze as the bartender handed the gin and tonic to her, and then held up her glass in return as the man lifted his, a half-smile on his face.

Nesta had barely taken a sip when the man stood and started toward her, revealing his near-monstrous height. He walked surprisingly gracefully for being as tall and broad as he was - probably three times as wide as Nesta - his t-shirt tight enough to reveal the corded muscles on his bicep and hint at an uncommonly chiseled chest. She couldn't stop her eyes from rolling over his body before snapping back up to his face, as handsome as it was rough, with hard lines that she could easily trace with her tongue. He had an almost russet hue to his light brown skin, and his ebony hair had the tiniest hint of a wave, flowing to just above his shoulders.

She would have been embarrassed for staring so blatantly, were he not doing the same thing, his eyes trailing the bare leg that she had crossed over the other.

Nesta was wearing a simple black dress, the bodice tight until it reached her hips before flaring out in a skirt that didn't even reach mid-thigh. Over it she had on a fitted leather jacket that fell to her waist, the sleeves scrunched up to make them more three-quarter lengths for the evening. And she opted for no tights or socks, only a pair of black, heeled booties on her feet, leaving her legs free and easily admired.

"Well, you're rather bold, aren't you?" she taunted by way of greeting. He was now leaning against the bar, standing just to the left of her stool, which she'd pivoted in to face him.

"Would you have preferred it if I just eyed you from across the bar for an hour first?" he asked in a rough timbre that sent shivers down her spine.

She smirked up at him. "That's what most men would do."

"I'm not most men," he shot back with a playful smile.

"Too concerned about the competition? There do seem to be quite a few good options for me here tonight." She looked around the room to emphasize the point.

He chuckled, the sound low and heavenly. "Some good ones for me, too. Yet here I am."

"So confident," she sighed. "Who's to say you could get any of their numbers, or even mine, for that matter?"

"Is that a challenge, sweetheart?"

Nesta offered him an innocent smile. "I didn't say that. And my name isn't sweetheart."

"What is your name, then?" he requested, his eyes never leaving hers, as if he were mesmerized by a swirl of blue and grey.

"Tell me yours and I'll decide if mine's worth sharing."

He grinned at that response. "I'm Cassian."

"Interesting name," she remarked, not wanting to stoke his ego by calling it beautiful. "Nesta."

"Nesta," he repeated in a whisper, accentuating the second syllable slightly, making Nesta's toes curl. "Well, now that that's settled, I do accept your challenge."

"What was my challenge, exactly?"

"You want proof I have options," he explained, a knowing smirk on his lips telling her he knew she was blatantly aware that he could get almost any person in this room. "Let's make it a contest, eh? See who can get another person to offer their number first. No asking for it."

Nesta felt her eyes sparkle at the concept, a wicked smiling growing. "And what are the prizes?"

"If I win, I get to take you out," he stated. "I'll let you choose your prize."

Her face scrunched for a moment as she contemplated the offer. "If I win…you take me back to your place and show me whether or not that confidence is justified."

"Doesn't sound like I'll be losing, sweetheart," he murmured.

"Then it's fair."

Their eyes remained locked on each other for another moment, the tension between them thick and tangible. Then Cassian downed the rest of his drink and walked off, searching for his first target.

Nesta laughed to herself and took another sip, waiting for another man to catch her eye. Or, at least, be attractive enough she could convincingly flirt with him.

She was just finishing her drink when a presence appeared at her side, tall and broad enough for her to know he was fit and strong, but nothing compared to what Cassian was. Looking him over, the only similarity she found was the length of his hair. Beyond that, he was the complete opposite to the other man. Pale with a golden glow, blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a refined face that made him look like he could be a prince. He was good looking, certainly, but after Cassian, she found herself rather unimpressed.

"Need a refill?" he offered, taking the spot Cassian had been standing in, resting an elbow against the bar as he met her eyes. His movements were graceful, to an extent, but still a bit stiff, and the smile he offered her couldn't be described as 'easy' the way all of Cassian's had been.

She smiled politely up at him, tucking her loose, golden brown curls behind her ear. "That would be lovely," she responded, her voice schooled into a flirty tone. Nesta could hear the fakeness in it, but she doubted he could - she was well practiced in donning a mask.

He requested the bartender get her another gin and tonic, on his tab, and turned back to Nesta. "I'm Tamlin."

Weird name. "Feyre." No way was Nesta giving him her real name. She probably shouldn't have used her little sister's, but she doubted it would be an issue. Feyre never ventured out of the Sidra neighborhood in Velaris, let alone end up all the way in Illyria on the opposite side of the city. It was too 'seedy', as she and her obnoxious fiancé often said, but Nesta loved it.

"It's lovely to make your acquaintance, Feyre," he crowed.

"Likewise…Tamlin." Accepting the drink from the bartender, she took a sip, her eyes landing on Cassian, who was sitting at a table, twirling strands of some blonde's hair in his hand as he met Nesta's gaze. He gave her a smug smirk that heightened Nesta's resolve, even if what she really wanted to do was pull all that bitch's hair out and then drag Cassian to the alley out back.

So she looked back at Tamlin, offered him another smile, and began a conversation, asking him about his work and hobbies. He enjoyed talking about himself. A lot. Didn't actually seem all that interested in Nesta, which was all the better for her. Fewer lies she'd need to come up with.

Instead, she was able to focus on laughing at the right points, asking him follow-up questions, appearing interested and doe-eyed, the latter something he definitely seemed to enjoy. She would place her hand on his arms and chest every once in a while. And every time her eyes locked with Cassian's, and she'd smile to herself whenever the brown in his hazel seemed to turn red at the sight.

She spoke with Tamlin for almost an hour, and was about to call it quits and find someone else when he received a text message that had his face falling into something close to rage. It wasn't a good look.

"My apologies, something just came up that I have to handle," he sighed. "But, I enjoyed the conversation. Could I, maybe, get your number? Maybe we can go out sometime?"

Nesta inhaled sharply, grimacing slightly as she tried to look like she was thinking it through. "I…I don't know," she murmured, confident that the shy demeanor she was attempting to present was exactly right.

"How about this: why don't I give you my number, yeah? And you can call me?" he offered, pulling out a business card.

Nesta nodded as if that were an acceptable alternative and took the card, giving him a fake, small smile as he closed out his tab and bid her good night. She waited for him to be out the door before standing up, card in hand, and heading toward where Cassian was still sitting with the blonde, now struggling to hide the boredom he seemed to be feeling.

He looked up as she walked over to them, his eyes widening at the sway in her hips and triumphant grin on her face. Without stopping, she dropped the card on the table in front of him and then placed herself near the doors to the bar.

She watched as Cassian picked up the card and read it, realizing what it was. His eyes sparkled with something she couldn't quite read as they met hers, and then he was quickly making his excuses to the girl he'd been hitting on before he stood up and headed straight toward her.

"Looks like I w-"

Cassian's lips crashed into hers before she could finish her sentence, one arm snaking around her waist while he lifted the other, brushing his fingers into her hair. His lips were warm and soft, even when filled with an intensity she'd rarely felt before. It was more than just a show of feeling, it was a claiming. And as he pulled her tighter to him, telling Nesta exactly what effect watching her flirt with another man had on him, she felt herself moan, her lips parting on their own accord to let Cassian's tongue sweep in.

His taste was familiar and comforting, like the kiss of snow and a sparking embers, and she melted into it as she'd done so many times before, unable to help herself. Her hands sat on his chest, holding the fabric of his shirt tightly as he deepened the kiss for a moment before gently pulling away and resting his forehead on hers.

They were both smiling as they shared breath, once again drowning in each other's eyes.

"That was fun," Cassian huffed, chuckling softly. Nesta couldn't help but laugh with him. "I think it's best if we not do it too often, though. I got way too close to punching that guy when I saw him place a hand on your thigh."

"Seems like it worked to me," she teased, giving him a quick, soft kiss. She hadn't been expecting Cassian to propose such a challenge when he'd suggested they go out and pretend they didn't know each other, that they were meeting for the first time. She'd expected some heavy flirting until one of them cracked. This…as much as she'd wanted to tear into that blonde - physically or with her words, either would've worked - she couldn't deny she'd never been so ready for him to take her. "Let's go home."

Cassian beamed at her, at the words she used, still fairly new to them - they'd only moved into their shared apartment a few weeks before - and it took her breath away. She offered him a full, sincere smile back and noticed the hitch in his own breathing before he was kissing her again, passionately.

"Yes," he whispered against her lips after another minute. "Let's go home."

Each wrapping an arm around the other, Cassian placed a kiss to the top of her head as they walked out the bar, a sweet and tense anticipation growing with every step they took toward their home.

a/n: I know it's weird to use Tamlin in something like this, but you know he'd find Nesta pretty if he thinks Feyre is. And I just couldn't bring myself to use someone else, like Eris or Tarquin or Helion, in a scenario where Nesta was only ever using them for a contest like this. Even if I do have Nesta using one of them in other stuff, it's typically in a way that could offer them something at some point, maybe. lol

@live-the-fangirl-life @generalnesta @secretlovelybeauty @nestaisgod @julemmaes @live-the-fangirl-life @boredserpent @autumnbabylon @bo0kmaster69 @angelic-voice-1997 @moodymelanist @nessianweek

[vidalinav]

Nessian Week Day 2: Gifts

Summary: Nesta finds the present Cassian threw in the Sidra. 

Look I can only write prompts in Cassian’s POV for some reason and he’s always a simp. I can’t make him less of a simp. I think I’m projecting my own love for Nesta Archeron, but it is what it is.

~

Cassian’s sitting in the living room, and the windows are open as well as the doors, and Nesta chooses to be outside. She wants fresh air, she says. It’s a beautiful day and Cassian can’t blame her, but he tries not to grumble in her absence. He’s stuck inside, waiting on Rhys who conveniently forgets they have a meeting today. 

It seems, Rhys would rather be with someone else... and Cassian would rather be with her. He jostles his leg impatiently, sighing every few minutes, thinking of all the ways he could be spending his time. 

At least, they’re going to a new restaurant in the city after. Cassian can’t wait and he looks to the clock as if his glare might make it tick faster. 

He’s sure after the restaurant, they’ll inevitably find themselves in bookshops. Cassian smiles at the thought. It seems they have a routine. 

One after another, they’ll peruse until he’s carrying a tower of romances. Nesta will make a game of it, he’s sure. How many can he carry before he drops them or she can’t reach the top even as he leans down? How many can she get away with before he starts complaining that his arms hurt? 

Cassian will do no such thing. Nesta should have as many books as she wants. Mother knows they have a house big enough for three hundred libraries. They can stand to have three hundred more. It will feel like three hundred books anyway, but Cassian won’t say a word. In fact, he’ll tell her she forgot to look in this aisle and jut his chin to the colorful bindings and some title that’s laughingly  scandalizing. 

Nesta will feel guilty about it later that evening though, as she always does, and so she’ll smile fondly. Gift it to him. That small, tilt of her lips, the mirth reaching her eyes. For holding all those books. Nesta will hold him closer too, because when she’s happy, she stops thinking about the city lights and the people and the noise. She keeps looking to him, tucking her hand into his, leaning her head on his arm. They’ll listen to the music as they walk, and all of it will sound sweet, and soft, but really he’ll be too distracted by her. All of her. 

Cassian sighs. He’d rather be outside with Nesta--whatever she’s doing. Anywhere but here waiting for Rhys who’s taking his damn time. 

He hears the sound of footsteps and sends a thank you to the Mother. Finally. Cassian gets up thinking it’s Rhys. He might just punch his brother for taking so long. Where have you been? He’ll screech. 

But it’s Nesta who comes trampling through one of the sliding doors. 

Better option, he thinks, and he’s about to say so, but Cassian notices the light blue fabric, the lacy edges trailed in dirt. 

Her dress is caked in mud, the bottom drenched. She has a spot of dirt on her cheek, and Cassian brushes it off as she nears, as he pulls her close. Nesta pays no mind; she only grins. A big, happy expression that he’s already named. 

Nesta only smiles like that when she’s over the moon, when the sun seemingly sinks into her chest and wants to shine from her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. Sunset hues. Peaches and blush and bright skies. Cassian feels warm to his toes, and he smiles unconsciously for she brings out the sun. 

Nesta holds up a little box and Cassian eyes it curiously. 

“I found a book!” She explains, “It’s the smallest book I’ve ever seen.” 

Cassian looks to the box again not recognizing the color. He’s sure it can't be--

But it is. She opens the box, not torn at all, and inside lays a perfectly small book. Made my tiny, fairy hands. All the pages are intact, no water or mud in sight as if it’s never seen the Sidra at all. 

Cassian holds his breath, but Nesta grins so fondly, he feels his chest start to squeeze. 

“I was just walking along the river and I saw something on the side, and... I was curious,” She says sheepishly. 

Nesta never can keep her curiosity down, and it explains her dress coated in the banks of the Sidra. He half wants to chastise for not getting him to help her. She must have climbed all the way down and he could have flown. She could have gotten hurt or carried away by the rapid tide. It’s at least a good couple of feet... but he shakes away his worry as she holds up the gift. 

He just can’t believe it. 

“So I climbed down a bit and I dug out the box! It’s perfect, isn’t it? I’m surprised the water didn’t ruin it. It must have come in with the storm last week.” 

“Where do you think it came from?” He asks, because he doesn’t know what else to say as Nesta looks at the book, flipping through the pages carefully. “Does it belong to anyone, you think?” 

It’s yours, he wants to blurt. I got it for you. It was yours all along. Just like I was. 

But Cassian doesn’t say that, he can’t make words form... and he knows where it came from. He doesn’t know what the words mean, but he know who made it. What type of material it is. How many exist in the world? Not many, but one is in her hand when it had only ever met his pocket and the sea. 

It must be some work of fae magic. A blessing from the Mother who know Nesta deserves the world... or he deserves some peace. Whatever power calls forth the tide or preserves paper in a flimsy box, he’s grateful for it. For the way, Nesta smiles like that. 

Nesta holds up her chin as if she’ll fight any person who claims it’s theirs, who tries to take it from her. A ferocious sort of gleam in her eyes. “I don’t know... but it’s mine now. I’m the one who climbed down for it. I’m caked in mud.”

Cassian’s lips raise as he wraps his arms around her waist, “I think it was definitely meant to be yours.” 

“It feels like mine,” she says softly. Nesta looks at the tiny book. It’s purple cover a sheen of old leather, stamped with unrecognizable words. She clasps it to her chest like she’s trying to burrow it away in her heart. Somewhere precious and protected behind a ribcage and a will of iron. 

All she loves is stored there. 

Cassian is there, too, he knows, because of that look she makes. That softness in her eyes, the sun in her smile. It’s reserved for him. For him and this tiny book. 

I’m yours, he thinks. 

Cassian grips her hand, pulling her towards the door. “Let’s see if we can go find a magnifying glass. Maybe we can try and read the words.” 

Nesta frowns, “I thought you had a meeting.” 

Cassian shakes his head, forgetting all about this room and Rhys and meetings. All that matters is her. “It’s not important,” he says. 

That joy, he thinks, is more important than anything. A blessing. A gift. He wonders how many times he can make her smile like that. 

Cassian doesn’t know, but he’s sure he’ll make a game of it. 

~

Tag List:

@arinbelle @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @nestaarcher0n @duskandstarlight @soitsgorgeous @swankii-art-teacher @lordof-bloodshed @thewhelk @daisy-in-danger @highqueenevankhell @lovelynesta @sirendeepity @champanheandluxxury @ladynestaarcheron @moodymelanist @teagoddess99 @spoilersteph @angelic-voice-1997 @bo0kmaster69 @drielecarla @generalnesta @cozycomfyliving08

~

The only reason I wrote this is because I was tagged on nessian week and therefore felt obligated to post something. Apparently you can get me to write anything if you give me the obligation. 

Bye! 

[nesquik-arccheron]

Nessian Week Prompt: Alternate Universe (Rivalry?)

This started out with the Rivalry prompt in mind, but I'm not sure what happend along the way and I didn't think it fit the prompt any longer so we have this!

Stripper Nesta 🤷🏼‍♀️

Cassian slammed down the glass of his fourth beer that night onto the table, wiping his mouth of the liquid before waving down one of the strippers working the floor, signalling his need for a refill.

The men around the table he occupied cheered and hollered as the brunette woman on stage crawled towards them, sticking her perky tits out to accept the dollar bills his teammates tucked into her cleavage. She accepted the money with enthusiasm before turning on her knees and slinking back to the pole, the men applauding and throwing more of the crumpled paper money at the stage as she shook her ass for them.

Usually, Cassian would be whistling and gawking right along with his fellow football players, watching as the women's bodies danced along with the seductive melodies, but today, today he couldn't. He deserved this after the week he had, but he couldn't get the small, steely-eyed demon to banish herself from his thoughts.

Nesta Archeron, the bane of his existence. On paper, she may be the perfect woman, with long legs, a pretty face, and smarter than anyone had the right to be. On the inside, she was something that crawled out of the pit of hell that could only be banished by some sort of advanced witchcraft.

She was a know-it-all, a perfectionist to the extreme, bossy with a bitter tongue, but fuck if she wasn't hot while she was listing all the ways he was useless.

Which brought him to this moment and why he couldn't even enjoy a gorgeous women flash her tits in his face. He stuffed a few dollars into her g-string and gave her a smile that normally had girls fawning and leaned back into his chair, the smile not having its desired effect as it fell flat, the usual spark not reaching his eyes.

The past week he had spent more hours working on the research paper for their joint ethics class than he had this entire semester. Spending that much time with the sea witch put him in a horribly bitter mood, and he was hoping that a night out with his teammates would fix the nasty attitude he'd been sporting for weeks. He and Nesta had been at each other's throats from the very first day. He had spilt her coffee on her lap and she made an idiot of him in front of the entire class as she proved his weak argument wrong with humiliating ease.

She thought he was a dumb jock and he thought she was a haughty know-it-all.

Since then it was an all-out war. Always on the opposite side in a debate, even when they didn't necessarily agree with their chosen side, just looking for a way to make a fool out of the other. Always out to prove each other wrong, ready to point out the most basic flaw in their argument, regardless if it was relevant or not. And multiple tasteless jokes about how dumb Cassian was, reducing him to a caveman who could only throw a ball, and how Nesta must be an inexperienced virgin who couldn't get her head out of a book.

The two's immense dislike for each other was not an unknown fact.

So it was a surprise when they were paired three weeks ago to complete a research project together. It had gone as well as anyone would expect, with rumours that campus security got called to break up a fight in the library one night. Which wasn't entirely true.

They had finally completed their project two days ago and now we're free of each other's presence. But it turns out that little witch held him by the balls, had him fuming like a toddler over her nasty little attitude, so much so that days later he found himself pouting at a fucking strip club.

"Come on man, what's your problem, we're at a strip club," Balthazar shouted a little too loudly as he practically fell into the seat beside him, a fresh beer in his hand and a little too drunk, just like the rest of the team. They wouldn't remember anything in the morning but coach Devlon would be ready with a reprimand and laps until they vomited.

"I know, shitty week," he told him.

"Exactly why you should be enjoying this!" The male yelled over the music before it died off into nothing, signalling for a change in strippers.

"You're right," Cassian agreed, grabbing the fresh beer in front of him and clinked glasses with his friend. He would enjoy this. Hot women and beer, what more could he ask for right now.

The lights dimmed as the stage was set for the next young lady and Cassian found himself captivated by her the moment she stepped on stage, the rest of the room falling away into the shadow of the club.

The golden-haired brunette was angled in such a way that he could not see her face from his vantage point, which was farther to the back of the long-running stage, but it did give full view of was her body. It was perfection and every hair on his body rose to attention as she began to sway her hips to the music.

She was dressed in a traditional sexy schoolgirl outfit, and he surveyed her from her knee-high white socks to her tiny grey skirt that did nothing to hid her tight perky ass in that lacy thong, up to those very generous breasts that spilled over the bearly there blouse, so sheer that it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra.

She didn't attempt any pole tricks like the one before her, but he was mesmerized by her dancing. Her arms raising above her head and slinking down her chest, her stomach and spreading herself for the group of men -and some very attractive women she gave some special attention to- huddling in front of her, eager for a look at the beautiful girl.

If only she'd turn around.

He debated walking over and joining the fawning men, but he preferred to stay put, enjoying the ability to appreciate her sensual dancing almost like a private show from his corner. He could feel his cock twitch for the first time that night as she tugged in her pigtail braids, her tits bouncing with the movement.

Cassian reached down to adjust himself and stopped dead in his tracts, his hand squeezing his junk in shock as the heart-stoppingly gorgeous woman turned to face him as she bared her backside to the awaiting audience. He felt his erection almost deflate in disbelief when he finally got a full, unobstructed view of her face. Almost.

It was Nesta fucking Archeron dancing on stage before him. Nesta, who had made the class he had taken for an easy A a living hell, who he believed got off on tearing down his self-esteem, who wore turtle necks and knee-length skirts.

The same Nesta Archeron who was currently rubbing her tits together and flashing her barely covered pussy into his teammate's faces. His cock stirred and he squeezed it roughly, 'Traitor.'

He chose to stay hidden in his dark corner until the end of her set, if he was going to be a creep, he would do it where no one could watch his shame. His cock ached with the images that flooded his vision and without any way to satisfy himself in a room full of people, he was ready to burst from the tightness of his pants. He had refused to touch himself to the image of her in a show of defiance.

By the time he finished off his beer her set finished, and he found himself alone at a table for several minutes before she appeared again in his line of vision, eyes trailing her long legs as she worked the room, taking orders and flirting with the patrons. He felt a ping of annoyance as she allowed their fingers to linger a moment longer than necessary while sliding a few bills into her cleavage.

Cassian stood up, adjusting himself in his pants before trailing after her a predictor stalking its prey. By the end of the evening, he would come to realize he was the prey.

"I don't think mommy and daddy Archeron would like to know what their little valedictorian gets up to when no one is watching" he teased, enjoying the way she turned to him at the sound of his voice so close to her ear.

If he hadn't known her better he would have missed the surprise that flashed across her face at the sight of him, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement normally used to signal annoyance or to intimidate only caused her to press her barely covered tits upward and into his eyeliner. He could help but look down.

"Pervert."

"Now, now Sweetheart, no need for name-calling, that won't get you any tips," he taunted, making a show of looking her up and down slowly in a desperate attempt to steer the conversation away from his inability to not stare at her breasts. Did he mention how amazing they were?

"What do you want, Nassari," Nesta huffed out in annoyance, "I have a job to do."

"I only wanted a moment of your time."

"You couldn't afford a moment of my time," she seethed, and he relished in the way her face reddened (in anger or embarrassment he didn't know) when he pulled out a nice, crisp 100 dollar bill, waving it between his fingers tauntingly. Okay, she was pissed. But God, was she beautiful when she was.

Nesta plucked the bill from his hand and folded it neatly into her shirt, "You got 10 minutes, come," she turned leading him towards a set of doors he assumed were reserved for lap dances.

"Whatever you say," he mocked, and she rolled her eyes at the innuendo.

Cassian didn't look around as they entered the room and she pushed him down onto a plush red love seat. He was helpless as he watched her, but his body didn't seem to mind being at her mercy, bending at the waist to press play on the little machine and then set something that almost reminded him of an egg timer.

"10 minutes remember, I'm in the clock," she reminded him when he gave her a questioning look.

The retort died in his throat as she began to stalk towards him, his eyes watching the sway of her hips, his hands twitching as they begged to touch, to place them on her body and bring her closer.

"You know you don't have to do this right?" He told her, eyes never making it to her face.

"You paid for a dance, so you're getting a dance," she clarified and continued her catwalk towards him, so elegantly he swore she was floating. She leaned down and placed a finger under his chin to force eye contact, "Besides, there are cameras in here, to keep the strippers safe, but to also make sure we do our job, so saddle up big boy, I'm about to take you for a ride."

Cassian swore this was some sort of witchcraft she was performing with the way she hypnotized him her body. The rock of her hips and the press of her pert ass as she sat on his lap like he was her own personal piece of furniture electrified his nerves, and it took everything in him to not cum from the sight.

His cock was hard and he knew she could feel it through his tight pants, and he didn't need to see the look on her face to know she was pleased by his body's reaction to her.

"You don't need to do this, I was only teasing," he breathed out as she continued to touch any exposed skin with soft, gentle caresses. The smell of her was more intoxicating than the alcohol he consumed. Cassian felt all the air leave his lungs when she straddled his lap. It may have started with him teasing her, but she was the one making the rules now.

"But so am I," giving him a sickeningly sweet smile and ground herself against him, feeling the outline of his bulge against her most sensitive parts, "Doesn't seem like you mind much."

Cassian swallowed, grabbing her hips and pushing her down in a similar motion. Nesta gasped at the sensation and peered down at him, placing her fingers in his hair, "You know, usually you're not allowed to touch the strippers."

"Doesn't look like you mind much."

Nesta gave a faux look of contemplation and shrugged, "For you, I could possibly make an exception." She'd never admit the jolt she felt up her spine as he repeated the previous motion.

A low feeling of satisfaction hummed in him at her breathy response and knew that he was having some sort of effect on her as well. He could see her pretty pink nipples poking through the thin material of her top, begging to be played with.

Noticing his attention back on her breasts, Nesta pressed her hands to his pectorals, trying to ignore the arousing feeling of hard muscle beneath her, and lifted herself, allowing him to run his hands over the swell of her ass for...support, as she brought her aching tits to his face.

She tried to ignore the voice in the back of her head screaming at her for what she was doing, but she was far too heated to care.

Cassian squeezed her ass, moaning at the way his hands dug into the soft muscle and gave her a light tap, causing her body to surge forward and her breasts bounce. Fuck, he was so hard. Would it be in bad taste to cum in a strip club? It felt dirty and classless, but his every muscle was aching and his skin was set aflame as hers made contact with the sliver of exposed skin at his chest.

Nesta looked down into his eyes and the intensity of his arousal made her nervous. Not because she was scared he would hurt her, but because this was fucking Cassian Nassari, moronic jock and man whore who fucked anything that moved. She hated him, and he was making her wet. She hated him even more now.

A hand on the back of her neck caught her attention in what she assumed was Cassian bringing her down for a kiss, but that wasn't part of the deal, "Ah, ah, you cant kiss the strippers either," she bit playfully, putting a small soft finger to his lips which were inches from hers.

"Can't you make an exception, for me?" Placing a soft kiss on her finger.

She almost gave in, almost removed the barrier from between their mouths when the ding from the timer broke through the tension, "Sorry...times up."

The lack of warmth from her body caused him to groan as she untangled herself from him, patting down invisible wrinkles from the small piece of fabric that was to be a skirt and tossed her braids behind her, flashing him a little smirk before turning around and sashaying towards the door, seemingly unaffected by their previous activities, "See you in class, Nassari,'" she hummed, adding a quick little wink before she vanished from view.

Holy shit. He just got a lap dance from Nesta Archeron. The resident 4.0 teacher's pet just hopped on his lap and rode him until his cock was pulsing without even taking any clothing off. Who knew under the turtle necks and prissy attitude was a little minx. He would shout it to the heavens if anyone would actually believe him. How no one else had seen her before now was beyond him.

"Sir," came a soft voice from the doorway, where a tall blonde female stood, "What are you doing in here?"

Shit. He probably wasn't meant to loiter, "Sorry," he apologized, finally taking in his surroundings. He paused, looking suspiciously from the coat rack to the array of slinky dresses and shoes that littered the floor. He had been in a VIP room before but this...he looked over to the young women curiously, "Are there cameras in here?"

The blonde, gawking at the audacity of his question, threw the red pulps she was wearing at him. Cassian swerved, barely dodging it, "Sir, this is the women's change room!"

@nessianweek