#Nesta can watch with me and we can place bets

[shittalkingwiththesuriel]

I think most of my problems would be solved if l could watch Azriel and Cassian spar (shirtless)(sweaty)

[sunshinebingo]

idk if your request is still open but i’ll try my luck 😭

could you please do a gwynriel angst where they have to attend a friend’s wedding party and their friends didn’t know they have broken up and they were forced into a seven minutes in heaven game but instead of what their friends have expected, the seven minutes turned out to be tears and heartbreak

i’m feeling kinda sad rn and this idea suddenly popped into my head. If you couldn’t do it, totally fine

Hi anon!! My request is always open so please feel free to send me any suggestion you might have.

Thank you so so much for having sent this one. It made me cry a bit ngl 😂 I hope you like it 🤭

Gwynriel - 1.8k - No warning - Angst only

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

*****

Love is a losing game

Some said better to love and lose than to have never known love. Right now, Gwyn wished she had never known love at all. As she watched the two newlyweds dressed in lace and silks whiter than the roses that filled the small garden, their eyes sparkling with happiness and love, their laughs rising above that of the small party who had gathered to celebrate this new step in their life, Gwyn saw what she would never have. And she wished, more than anything, that she had never known what being in love felt like.

Her own bridesmaid outfit was a mockery of it. The ivory dress that Emerie had wanted her chosen sisters to wear when walking her down the aisle had seemed to laugh at Gwyn with every step she had made, blue bouquet in hand, towards the alter. It was all a cruel, sick joke and she hated it. Hated herself for having so stupidly walked into it.

“Hey,” Nesta’s gentle voice broke through her thoughts.

Gwyn turned to look at sister, blinking away the tears of anger that had started to fill her eyes. Nesta narrowed her eyes inquisitively. “Are you okay?”

No.

“I am,” she offered Nesta one the fakest smile she had ever forced onto her face. Gwyn shrugged at her sister’s silent insistence. “I’m just so happy for them.”

Nesta laughed and picked up her crystal glass. “You’ve always been the most romantic of the three of us,” she said, referring to Gwyn, Emerie and herself. Emerie and Nesta. The only true loves of her life besides her twin and her mother.

“And the funniest,” Gwyn added with none of the joy that usually accompanied her sass.

“And the sweetest and the smartest,” Emerie chimed in across from them, fingers entwined in her new wife’s.

Nesta hummed her approval. Gwyn wondered how long it would take for them to notice the walls she had built around herself to hide her misery. She hoped that the cracks forming in this wall as she watched everyone’s happy faces would not make the whole thing crumble before she could get far away from them.

An eruption of voices caused another crack to form. It got worse when Cassian’s boisterous voice called her name on the other side of Nesta, along with another.

“Gwyn and Azriel. It’s time to find out the truth.”

Gwyn tensed and blurted a, “What?”

She felt a wave of panic rising. Gwyn internally added more bricks to her wall. She slammed her hands against the cracks even as more tears threatened to bring it all down. She couldn’t be weak. Not now. Not in front of him. Not ever.

Not now. Please. Please.

“We need to find out if you two can spend seven minutes in heaven and keep things clean,” Rhysand explained across from Cassian, no doubt mistaking her dread for confusion. His words settled in Gwyn before she could sigh at the fact that no one had yet learned the real truth.

Only then, hours after having stepped foot here, did she look at him for more than a second. His hazel eyes were already on her. Gwyn refused to read any emotion in them. She could not bear anymore lies from him.

“Come on Gwynnie,” Cassian went on. “We already placed the bets. And I know I will win because Az hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

Feyre giggled next to Rhys. “That’s nothing new Cass.”

“I know but it’s different today. His stare has been...,” Cassian placed a finger on his chin as though he was looking for the perfect word. “...harder,” he finally added with a wink that earned him a laugh from everyone around the table.

“It’s probably the white dress,” Mor wiggled her perfect eyebrows at Gwyn.

A flush crept up Gwyn’s cheeks. Not because of the insinuation from the beautiful blond, but because there had been a time where she would have believed everything that they were saying. What a fool she had been. What a stupid, romantic, naive fool.

“Oh that pretty blush is promising,” Nesta teased next to her. “Come on.”

Before she could give any response, Nesta was out of her chair and pulling Gwyn up by the arm. Next to her, Cassian had already pulled a semi-reluctant Azriel out of his seat and was dragging him across the garden towards the small shed.

All words evaded Gwyn. All she could focus on was trying to keep herself together. She could do this. Seven minutes. She would be strong. For seven minutes.

“And no less,” Cassian exclaimed after pushing both her and Azriel in the shed. Gwyn stared at the closed door after the loud click of the lock sounded from outside.

The silence in the small dark place was louder than the faint voices on the other side. It stretched on for what felt like ten times more than seven minutes. Everything was so still around her that despite having her back to him, Gwyn felt Azriel lift his hand and reach towards her.

“Gwy-,���

“Don’t,” she took a step to the side before he could touch her shoulder.

“Gwyn plea-,”

“Don’t,” she said more firmly. Though her next words came out in a whisper. “Please, don’t.”

She turned around and faced him. She begged her heart to keep quiet and pleaded with reason to not abandon her. This situation seemed like a mirror of the last time that they had been in the same room. Suddenly, the last month faded into nothing. Gwyn felt like she was still in his living room, staring into his eyes and wondering why on earth she had ever trusted him. It was pity for herself that she had felt before she had stormed out of his apartment that night.

“Gwyn. Please,” he took a step forward and she took one back. “Let me explain.”

“What I saw was explanation enough,” she snapped.

“It’s not what you think.” His voice was laced with impatience. If she believed in his lies, she would have also discerned hurt in it. But it was probably a bit of wishful thinking from her part.

Gwyn let out a sardonic laugh. “And what would you have thought, Azriel,” she spat his name like it had become the hardest thing for her to say, “if you had seen me doing what you were doing with her.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pulling on the dark strands in frustration like he usually did.

“It was a mistake. A huge, fucking mistake. And I regret every fucking second of it.”

“A mistake...,” Gwyn tasted the word on her tongue. It was the same word he had used that day. That same word that she had turned around and around in her head for the past month while she had thought back on the years that they had spent together.

“This should have never happened, you have to believe me.”

“But it did.”

“It was a fucking mistake.” That godforsaken word again. As if saying it enough times would remove his involvement in the act he had committed. “I swear love, I never wanted to hurt you. She - ”

“She what?” her voice rose above his and made him freeze. “Did she force you to do anything?”

Azriel didn’t react. His silence was answer enough. And when he kept staring at her with those deep hazel eyes that she adored so much, with that same intensity that had made her lose her godsdamned mind so many times since she had first looked into them, her wall crumbled. Her strength to keep it up left her, running away to the darkest corner of the shed along with her resolve to keep her mouth shut.

“I thought that you would be the one to finally make me believe that I deserve this kind of love. But y-you...,” she wasn’t sure what to say except that she had to let out what had been plaguing her mind for a whole month.

“I trusted you. I...”

He took another step towards her but she stopped him with a hand on his chest. She ignored what touching him was doing to her. Ignored that she wasn’t the only one that had touched him and kept talking despite her voice coming out as sobs

“I never forced you to stay with me. You always had a choice. And you chose to hurt me.”

“I didn’t want –,”

“BUT YOU DID,” she shouted.

She didn’t notice the sudden quiet of the voices outside nor did she care. Azriel fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. “Please, my love. This will never happen again.”

Looking at him like this made something twist inside Gwyn. Her whole body was trembling with anger and pain. An endless flow of tears started streaming down her face. How dare he make such empty promises after having ripped her heart out like he did.

“I know you still love me, Gwyn.”

She huffed. “Of course I love you.” There was no point in denying it. “I hate myself for loving you so much.”

Azriel grabbed one of her hands and brought it to his lips. “Please let me fix this. I love you more than anything.”

Another sentence that she had heard back then. As if trust could be fixed by simply snapping one’s fingers. As if those images that had haunted her for an entire month would disappear by simply piling new ones on top.

“If this is your idea of love, then it’s wrong,” she said, slowly removing her hand from his. She closed her eyes as she did so, knowing well that this would be last time she would ever let him touch her. Perhaps the last time she would ever let any man touch her. It seemed impossible in this moment that she would ever trust a man again with her heart. Not when it would always remain with the one kneeling at her feet. The sight was another mockery of the future she had dreamed for them. Another sick and cruel joke of life.

A knock sounded at the door followed by Cassian’s deep voice. “You still decent in there? Time’s over.”

Time wasn’t the only thing that was over. Gwyn was almost at the door when Azriel abruptly stood up and grabbed her wrist. Without even thinking, she turned around and slapped him so hard that the incessant knocking on the door stopped.

Azriel released her wrist and brought his hand to his cheek. His hazel eyes found hers again. His eyes were red and filled with tears, his expression full of something that she refused to acknowledge.

Since she had nothing left to say and so much more tears left to shed, Gwyn turned around and walked out, to somewhere she could mourn the loss of her heart.

[lucienarcheron]

Around the World - Part 1 [ Elucien ]

Prompt: Prostitute/Client Modern AU requested by a poor ‘nonnie ages ago. |

Genre: Humor/Romance/Fluff Rating: SFW (for part one anyways ;D) Recommended listen: Make Me Feel by Janelle Monáe

Elain was frustrated. She was tired. She was probably more pissed than she looked at the moment and she was also slightly tipsy. But not quite tipsy enough to forget that she was at some fancy hotel bar where her ex-boyfriend was schmoozing in the next room.

Grumbling to herself, she fumbled for the ringing phone that she had thrown somewhere in her purse and squinted at the screen. Nesta. Again.

“What?” she whined, leaning against the bar counter.

“I’m coming to pick you up. Where are you?” her older sister demanded and Elain scoffed.

“No, you're not. I don’t want to be picked up. I want to be left alone.”

“Elain, you will not be getting drunk and crying over Graysen because you saw him at this stupid party.  He is a piece of shit.”

“A piece of shit I thought loved me.” Elain mumbled and she heard Nesta sigh.

“Well, aren’t you glad you’re not dating a piece of shit then?”

“Maybe.” Elain replied with pursed lips, her eyes scanning the place around her. “I still can’t believe he dumped me.”

“It’s okay. I’ll break his neck eventually.”

Elain snorted. “I’m counting on it.”

“I already broke his nose. It won’t take much to break his neck.” Nesta responded through the phone and Elain giggled into her glass. It had been glorious watching Nesta deck him. “Now, where are you?”

“Nesta, don’t come. I’m going to stay here and find a really hot male prostitute to fuck me.” Elain whispered into the phone with another giggle, her eyes back to scanning the room and the line went silent.

“Excuse me?” Nesta said after a minute.

“I want to have sex with a really hot guy. It’s the least I deserve after that stupid, good-for-nothing asshole dumped me.”

“Not with a prostitute you’re not.”

“But they are professionals. I bet he’ll show me around the world. Graysen never did.”

“Elain, how much have you had to drink?”

“Only two glasses. I’m not drunk. I just want to have a nice night.”

“We can have a nice night at home. Where the hell are you?”

Elain pursed her lips, weighing her options. Let Nesta come pick her up to where Feyre was waiting at home to console her which was something she didn’t want or stay here and maybe make out with a nice stranger and drink in peace? The decision was almost too easy.

“You’ll never find me.” she deadpanned then blew a raspberry into the phone and ended the call.

Was she being childish?

Absolutely.

Did she care at the moment?

Absolutely not.

“You sound like you need another drink.” a voice spoke out next to her and Elain’s head whipped to the side.

Her eyes fell on the stranger next to her and she blinked. He was handsome. Red hair tied in a neat ponytail, dressed in a button-down shirt and dress pants.

The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to reveal his toned forearms and this made her eyes wander up to the way the rest of his shirt hugged his body. Her gaze kept going up until it locked on the fading scar running down his face, his eye that had seen better days, and the quirked brow that completed his look.

The stranger gave her an amused look as she bluntly checked him out and when the corner of his mouth turned up, Elain flushed deeply.

“I’m good.” she finally replied, her voice coming out like a squeak and the stranger chuckled.

“Didn’t mean to eavesdrop but you were talking rather loudly.” he continued and took a sip of his own drink. “Trying to drink your sorrows?”

“No. This place is too nice for that.” she replied, casually smoothing down her skirt and then looking back at the stranger. Something about him seemed familiar. “I’m the florist for the wedding party happening in the banquet hall. My job’s done so I’m rewarding myself.”

“Didn’t they have an open bar?” he asked curiously, his eyes never leaving her face. As if he too had seen her someplace.

“Rewarding myself away from them.” Elain clarified then took a sip of her own drink, averting her gaze from his. “There are people attending I don’t want to see.”

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

Elain turned her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “How much of my conversation did you listen to?”

“You were shouting for half the place to hear you.” he replied with a chuckle then he held out his hand. “I’m Lucien.”

“Elain.” she said, shaking his hand. She eyed him again and found him eyeing her. “Why are you here?”

“Dinner party. Shitty company so I left earlier to come sit here instead.” he said, giving her a half smile. She nodded her understanding then gave him a curious look that he returned.

“I feel like I’ve met you before.” she said.

“So have I.” he replied, leaning against the counter. “Weren’t you the florist that handled Spring Corps end-of-the-year banquet?”

Elain perked up with a wide smile. “Yes! I had so much fun planning that!”

“I thought so!” He said with a smile. He had only stared at her for most of the evening, like a creep. No big deal. “I used to work there. That was my last event actually.”

“Better opportunity?”

“And better people.” he replied, holding up his glass before taking a sip and Elain chuckled.

“Good for you... What is it you do anyways?”

“I’m a marketing manager for Velaris Inc.”

Elain’s body straightened and she let out a gasp. “You work for Rhys?”

“You know Rhys?” he asked with a blink.

“He’s my brother-in-law!” Elain said with a laugh.

“Rhys is your brother-in-law?” Lucien said with a blink then laughed. “You’re Feyre’s sister! I can’t believe we haven’t met before.”

Elain beamed then slid her glass over, moving to the bar stool that had been between them. He watched her movement and his lips twitched, turning his body to face her fully, their knees touching.

“This is so exciting! I’m sure Feyre has talked about you before and I just didn’t make the connection.” Elain gushed. “Do you like working with them? Feyre and Rhys can be annoying to be around when they don’t stop touching each other.”

Lucien snorted. “Annoying is an understatement but Feyre is one of my closest friends. She’s the one that actually helped me get the job... Rhys can be tolerable at times.” he said with an eye roll and a good-natured smile that made Elain laugh.

“I’m going to tell your boss you said he’s only tolerable.  I’m his favorite sister-in-law, he’ll listen to me. You’re going to get in trouble.” she said with a playful smirk and Lucien placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt.

“We’ve just met and you’re already throwing me under the bus? Strangers are horrible.”

She laughed again and shoved him lightly. “Technically, we’re not strangers anymore.” she said then lowered her voice for a dramatic effect. “I know where you work now.”

Lucien gasped, his drama matching hers. “A stalker! The horrors!”

“At least I’m a pretty stalker.” Elain replied with a cheeky grin, taking a sip from her glass and Lucien chuckled, his eyes slowly looking her up and down.

“That you are.”

They shared smiles and when Lucien opened his mouth next, the conversation between them became gushing. They talked about everything and anything, their drinks untouched next to them. An hour easily passed with the two of them sharing stories and what had started as a miserable evening for them both was now a night full of laughs.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve walked in on Rhys and Feyre fucking or about to fuck at work?” Lucien said and Elain crinkled her nose. “They never stop, dear god.”

“My rule is to call three times before I visit them. They get three warnings to make themselves decent before I arrive.” Elain replied, holding up three fingers then waved her hand. “Then I just start making annoying noises until they’re actually decent.”

“Annoying noises?” Lucien asked with a laugh. “What do those consist of?”

“Yodeling. Wailing. Animal noises.” she replied and grinned when his laughter continued. “Whatever strikes the mood really. Singing is always the last resort because I’m really terrible at it.”

He gave her a grin and pointed his finger at her. “I am definitely going to start doing that.” he said and she giggled. “Think they’ll fire me if I start yodeling to announce my arrival?”

“Tell them it was inspired by me. Maybe they’ll finally take the damn hint.” she replied and he snorted, gesturing for the bartender to refill their forgotten empty glasses.

“Elain! There you are.”

Both their heads swiveled towards the voice and Elain let out a low groan as Nesta came barreling towards them.

“That’s Nesta?” Lucien asked quietly.

“Yup.” she said with a sigh and turned to give her sister a thin smile. “Nesta. You came. Even though I asked you not to.”

“It took a bit to find the place...I didn’t want you to be alone.” Nesta replied and Lucien could tell wherever this woman went, she intimated everyone with her stance alone.

“I’m not alone.” Elain replied then gestured to Lucien with her glass. “This is Lucien. My designated lover for the night.”

Lucien almost choked on his drink but hid his smile in the glass before placing it back down and meeting Nesta’s horrified gaze.

“No. He’s not.” Nesta replied, crossing her arms and arching her brow.

“Indeed he is.” Elain said with a nod. “I told you on the phone I wanted to find someone. Here he is.”

“Hello.” he said, attempting not to burst out laughing. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Keep your pleasure to yourself, thank you.” Nesta replied, holding a hand up, her eyes never leaving his face. She squinted. “I’ve seen you before.”

“That’s because he’s very popular in the agency.” Elain immediately interjected. “Something about redheads.”

Lucien’s lips twitched, his eyes darting to Elain then back to Nesta. He shrugged. “It gets a lot of people going apparently.”

Nesta’s nose flared and she shifted to glare at Elain. “I’m not going to let you spend the night with a strange sexual professional.”

“Male escort.” he corrected.

“Prostitute.” Elain corrected at the same time, giving him a wink and he snorted. “And you’re not going to let me do anything, Nesta. Lucien is going to show me around the world, aren’t you?”

“I plan to.” he replied with a smirk that heated Elain’s cheek.

“We’ve already booked a room.” she said, beaming at her sister. Nesta blinked, her posture rigid.

“Elain. If you’re joking, I think it’s time to stop now.”

Elain squinted and turned in her seat to face her sister properly. “Are you really going to deny me sexual pleasure, Nesta Archeron?”

Her sister rolled her eyes as Lucien again, tried really hard not to laugh. He was both aroused and very, very amused.

“I’m not going to deny you anything. I just think you should get it from someone who couldn’t potentially murder you in a hotel room.”

“Hey, I’m a professional. I would never do that.” Lucien objected with a frown.

“Exactly!” Elain agreed. “Besides, everyone knows you always dump the body in the river so the evidence washes away.”

Lucien let out a laugh as Nesta glared at her and then poked her head gently.

“How many drinks have you had?” she hissed and Elain pouted.

“I’m fine, Nesta! He’s a friend! It’s fine!” Elain replied, exasperated. “I’m fine. I appreciate you coming but I’ll be fine. Go back home.”

“I didn’t realize you befriended prostitutes.” she stated curtly and Lucien snorted.

“Prostitutes are people too, you know.” Lucien said, giving Nesta a look and she scowled at him.

“I never stated otherwise.” her curt tone sharpening.

“It’s the flower business. Really draws us in.” Lucien replied, his eyes on Elain now. “Also helps when there’s a cute girl selling the flowers.”

Elain tried hard not to smile when their eyes met and cleared her throat, turning back to Nesta.

“You’d be surprised how many come in for the nicest bouquets.”  Elain said with a nod toward her sister.

“It helps set up the mood.” Lucien said to Elain, nodding his agreement and Elain giggled.

Nesta’s expression turned sour and then she grabbed Lucien by the front of his shirt. He blinked at her.

“Can I help you?”

“I want your phone and ID. Now.”

“Nesta!” Elain objected but Lucien gave Nesta an amused look and then pulled out his phone and wallet, allowing Nesta to yank them both out of his hand. Elain and Lucien watched her dial a number in his phone until her own phone began ringing, then she pulled his ID from his wallet and took a picture of it. Glancing at him once more, she shoved both his phone and wallet back in his hand then gripped him by his shirt again.

“If anything should happen to my sister, I will find you and murder you so viciously they won’t even find dust particles of you.” she said quietly. “Understood?”

“Yes ma’am.” he replied promptly and Nesta let him go. She glared at him once more then turned to Elain and patted her on the head.

“Have fun. Use a condom.”

“Thanks mom.” Elain grumbled and Nesta flashed her a small smile before shooting Lucien another glare and then leaving.

A silence fell between the two for the first time since they sat next to each other, Elain mortified and Lucien beyond amused.

“I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered she believed that I could be a high-end hooker.” he finally said and Elain groaned, immediately leaning down to hide her face on the counter. Lucien finally burst out laughing and she lifted her head to playfully glare at him.

“I’m very offended she believed that I could only get laid if it was with a high-end hooker.” Elain replied with a frown and Lucien laughed again.

“How badly does she think you need a good fuck?” He asked rather bluntly and Elain turned bright red.

“I — it was — that’s a very personal question!”

“You told your sister I’m your male entertainment for the night, I think we’re past that.” He said teasingly and Elain hung her head with another groan. He chuckled but his gaze lingered on her.

Elain’s cheeks flushed when she looked up and met his gaze. Their conversation had been well but everything that had been said when Nesta showed up took it down a different path. A path she wasn’t sure she was ready for. Though she would like to kiss him. Maybe more. Maybe.

“Maybe I should just leave...enough embarrassment for one night.” she muttered, giving him a small smile.

“Why the rush? I never said I wouldn’t be able to help you.” he said quietly, the corner of his lips turned up.

She blinked at him.

“Huh?”

“I may not be a male prostitute but I can promise to show you around the world.” he said in that same quiet tone.

“That’s a big promise.” she said quietly, though heat had already pooled low in her stomach. She was so attracted to him.

“One I intend to spend all night fulfilling.” Lucien replied, a finger tracing the top of his glass, his eyes never wavering from her flushed face. “If you’ll let me.”

So Elain found herself once again, weighing her options for the night. She could spend the night with this fine specimen, getting what could potentially be a fuck of a lifetime or she could go home and well...her vibrator was her other option.

The decision was once again, too easy.

Elain leaned forward and fisted both hands in the front of his dress shirt, pulling him half off his bar stool against her and crashing her lips into his. Lucien immediately responded, a hand cupping her face and the other on her neck, guiding her to lean further into him. The kiss was heated, the tension that had been between them only increasing as Lucien nipped at her bottom lip and if the way his tongue was working with hers gave any indication of what he could do with it in other places, Elain was in for a ride.

He pulled away from her after a moment and Elain stared at him breathless.

“We’re going to need to book that room.” he said quietly.

“Yes. Yes, we will.” she replied and he grinned.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” he said, leaning in to kiss her once more but pausing inches away from her lips with a worried expression. “Or I mean, if you do want to go that’s fine —I just —before I book the room —”

Elain tugged him closer, shutting him up and getting the kiss he had denied her, before gently letting him go. “Let’s go book that room.”

[heyovivi]

[SPOILERS] HOFAS Part 1

Read Along with No Context

Okay is Cormac alive? Because Ruhn is describing these shadows that watch him and Cormac is the only one in this universe who has Shadowsinger-like abilities.

Never mind.

—

Sooo Azriel just be playing hide n seek

—

“Give me one reason not to bury this knife in your spine.” 😍😍😍 Azzy baby

—

DID NESTA JUST REANIMATE ALL THE BONES IN THE CAVE TO DEFEAT THE WORM💀

—

“You’re dead to me.” 🥲

—

So Azriel’s siphons focus his powers to make weapons…can he make weapons of bondage 👀

—

Not Azriel being afraid of a flash light 😂

—

“He wanted many things with her. A normal, happy life. Children.”🥲

HUNT IS KILLING ME WITH HIS DREAMS OF THE FUTURE

—

Theia: I wonder what the home I built and fought a war over will be like in the years to come…😌

Rhys: welcome to the Prison where we keep the deadliest bastards around 😀

—

Wait is Azriel star born?

—

So we don’t like Theia?

—

lol if Azriel is star born I bet his mom may know something about it

So I’m thinking he’s probably not related to Silène but Helena— because I think the words only protect or welcome members of Silene’s lineage

But then, again, the blades are supposed to have specific abilities. And if Azriel has just been using truth teller as a regular dagger, maybe he isn’t starborn, because only starborn people can tap into those abilities. So in the hands of Ruhn or Rhys it would be very different.

Then again it would explain why he also has shadowsinging abilities

—

Ighhhh my ship is going down 🥲🥲🥲

But they also didn’t have much to start with

—

is it Ethan of Eye-than

—

BOOOOFJFHDHDHRHR. IS WOLF MYSTIC DEAD FUCKS FUCKS FUCKS I HATE THIS I HATE UOU SJM AGGGG

IM IN PAIN

I think my wolf baby has just gone through too much, he deserves a little happiness, even if it is from a bossy and bitchy wolf

I’m just assuming…does killing an alpha make you an alpha??

—

I’m not saying that what Theia did was right, but I feel like it could be argued that using multiple troves at the same time probably messed with her mentality… like, look at what the mask did to Nesta, just the mask, it made her kind of like a puppet to its whims. I can’t even imagine what all the troves put together can do to one person.

So…High Ladies did exist

—

I think this goes to show that Rhys should definitely not be high king and he should not be able to have power over multiple troves. I know in pass books he kind of has this cool exterior, but I feel like going into this book and knowing the spoilers ahead, he is kind of going down this path of insanity. I’m not saying that he’s going to go full on insane, but the worries he has for his court and family added with the need to protect them can lead down a similar path of that of Theia.

—

Bryce can be really…troublesome

I’m kindve got annoyed but I understand her distrust

But like girl—you just hear from your ancestor that she locked up monsters of all kinds there and your bright idea was to shake the place and wake them up 🧐

—

Also idky but I think…Jesiba is Helena

—

Ngl but I was hoping for Nesta to use her signature move to kill the Asteri

Nvm she did

So I guess Nesta is also a Starslayer

—

Holy shit she took Azriel’s Security Blanket

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

Totally Spies (Valkyries) Chapter 23

@sunshinebingo @aelinchocolatelover

That evening, Team Night took Team Exile’s advice. They all decided to have a game night at Lucien’s estate. After Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie finished all of their homework, they practically begged the boys to have a game night tonight at the Vanserras. They declined at first since the last time they went over there, they snuck in. But Lucien assured them it was okay and the whole sneaking around never happened. So, the boys decided to take Team Exile’s offer and spend the evening playing video games with Lucien and his friends.

It was currently 6pm and the sky was just now getting dark. “I can’t believe we actually agreed to this.” Cassian said as he saw the girls walking ahead of them. Nesta and Emerie were bragging about which game would be cooler to play while Gwyn was walking beside them carrying Shadow who chilled in her touch. Azriel rolled his eyes at the two of them. “I can’t believe we agreed to take Shadow.”

“No, you agreed. We only said yes because we wanted them to stop fake crying.” Cassian recoiled as Rhysand chuckled. “I can’t believe you of all people fell for it.” Now this time, both Rhysand and Azriel laughed. Cassian frowned but started to laugh as well. “We’re here!” Gwyn called out as the girls raced to the estate.

The estate’s gate was locked so Emerie tried to bang on it. “Hey, Lucien! We’re here!” Rhysand couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s an intercom on the side of the gate, you didn’t have to shout,” he said, ruffling the girl’s hair. Azriel walked over to the intercom and told Lucien they’d arrived. In an instant, the gate opened up. The girls cheered and ran into the forest of the estate. “Hey guys, don’t run!” Cassian tried to warn them but the girls were completely out of earshot. Having no choice, the boys jogged after them.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie found their way to the front door of the estate. Emerie was about to knock again, but the door swung open before she could. Vassa looked at the girls and smiled. “Hey guys, you made it!” she said as the girls said hi. “Where are the boys?”

“Over here.” Vassa and the girls looked to see Rhysand and his brothers right behind them. They were also breathing heavily like they just finished running. “You guys okay?” Vassa asked as Rhysand replied, “Ask me that after you have to chase after 3 kids in the dark.”

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

Lucien was right about having a tone of video games. He practically had the entire store. The game room in Lucien’s house was as big as a movie theater. He had an Xbox, ps5, Wii, and Nintendo. While Cassian and Nesta betted to see who can beat one another in Mario kart, Azriel and Rhysand chilled in the soft and comfy chairs at the pool table with Lucien and Vassa. Gwyn was sitting in one of the chairs watching Cassian and Nesta play Mario Kart while petting Shadow. Emerie and Jurian had snuck off somewhere, but it didn’t matter. The boys knew Jurian was a good guy.

“It really was nice of you to invite us, Lucien,” Rhysand said as Lucien finished drinking a soda can. “It was my pleasure Rhys. We’re not close friends, but you are one of my favorites apart from Tamlin.” Hearing Tamlin’s name stung.

He and Tamlin used to be close. But after he betrayed him and his entire family, Prythian hasn’t really been on the best of terms with Spring. In the end, Tamlin’s family was demoted from going out into the field work for an entire decade. It was a fair punishment for some, but Rhysand never looked at him the same after that.

He even started calling him Flower Boy after the incident. His reputation was ruined after that. However, Tamlin came back on top after he started a fight with him back in grade school. Rhysand’s own reputation was damaged after that. A small part of him felt bad for humiliating Tamlin, but he’ll never apologize for it.

Azriel, sensing his brother’s stiff body, placed a hand on his shoulder. Rhysand tapped his hand as a way of saying thanks. “So, I heard you guys got expelled from college,” Lucien said with a smirk. Vassa laughed as Rhysand and Azriel rolled their eyes. “You can blame that on Cass.”

“It was ONE BUILDING!” Cassian shouted as Nesta fired a red turtle shell as his character while her character finished in 1st place. “YES!”

“NO!” Cassian cried as Nesta laughed and started to do a victory dance in her seat. “I beat you; I beat you!” Nesta chanted while Cassian playfully glared at the 13-year-old. “You only won because I got distracted.”

“That was your own fault.” Nesta fired back as Gwyn laughed at her comment. Now, Cassian was glaring at both of them. “You’re both lucky you’re still children. You’d be hearing from my lawyer about this.”

“You can’t afford a lawyer!”

“You are my lawyer Az!”

“I don’t work for free.” Nesta and Gwyn laughed at Azriel’s comment.

Turning away from the trio, Azriel faced the others. “Sorry about that, my client was being bitchy today.”

“He’s always bitchy.” Rhysand commented making everyone laugh harder. However, the laughter soon died out when everyone started hearing laser-firing sounds. “What the?” Rhysand said as he and the others started to get up. Before they all started to worry, Emerie zoomed down the stairs waving something small in her hand. “Hey guys look what I found!” she said smiling from ear to ear while Jurian raced down the stairs with her.

Getting a closer look, Lucien spoke. “A pen?” he asked as Emerie shook her head. “Not just any pen. A laser pen!” she cheered as Lucien widen his eyes. “Oh no.” he said as he and Vassa stomped toward Jurian who was trying to explain that Emerie tricked him into finding a small weapon.

Azriel walked over to Emerie and snatched the pen away. “Emerie, no weapons.” he said coldly as Emerie pouted. “Aw, but it’s so cool.” she whined trying to reach for the pen. Azriel dangled the pen. “I said no.” he replied as Emerie stopped reaching. “Hey Az, what’s that on your head?”

“Huh?” Azriel looked away for a split moment. Big mistake. Emerie smirked and jumped onto Azriel, grabbing his shoulders for support. “Woah! Hey!” Azriel tried to wiggle Emerie off of him, but Emerie only smirked and grabbed the pen from his palm. “Haha! Mine!” she yelled in triumph. Azriel regained his footing and reached out to grab the girl, but Emerie had already jumped off of him after she grabbed the pen. “Emerie, give that back!”

“How did she even get that anyway?” Rhysand asked as he, Azriel, and the others turned to Jurian. Jurian smiled nervously while scratching the back of his head. “Well, she said she needed something to write with, so I gave her a pen.”

“You gave her the laser pointing pen!” Vassa yelled. “It’s not my fault. Lucien doesn’t label them.” Jurian fired back trying to put the blame on Lucien. Emerie groaned. “Relax guys, I can handle a tiny laser pointer.”

And then all hell broke loose. Emerie’s thumb accidentally pressed the top of the pen, causing the laser to shoot out of it, startling everyone. It bounced off the mirror near one of the theater lights, bounced off Gwyn’s pegasus necklace, and Jurian dodged it by bumping into Lucien. The laser zoomed its way near Rhysand, but he ducked in time.

For a moment, no one said anything. Until Rhysand glared at Emerie. She laughed nervously and placed the pen in her pocket. “Um...oops?” Rhysand, still glaring, held out his hand gesturing for the young girl to give him the weapon. Realizing that it’d be better if she didn’t get on her friend’s bad side, Emerie coughed up the pen. “Sorry,”

Rhysand sighed and turned around for a moment to facepalmed. “What am I gonna do with you?” Rhysand didn’t get a response. Instead, he heard sound of laughter coming from Emerie and Vassa. Turning around, Rhysand looked to find Azriel looking away and Jurian and Lucien trying not to laugh. He also noticed his brother Cassian and the girls Nesta and Gwyn were here, arriving while the laser pointer show was in affect. Nesta and Gwyn were laughing like Emerie . Cassian was merely chuckling silently.

“What?” Rhysand asked as Azriel took a picture of the back of his head. Before Rhysand could ask what was that for, Azriel showed him picture. Rhysand’s eye were as wide as the sun. There was a bald spot. Right in the middle of the back of his head. And, it was noticeable. The laser bounced off the wall from behind him and hit his head. And he didn’t even know it.

But he did know one thing. Someone has to pay. “EMERIE!!!!!!!!!”

[unhealthyfanobsession]

Can I ask for drunk Nesta flirting with Cassian in front of the ic and him getting all flustered but being secretly pleased about it???

Hell yeah you can! I love this idea! It wasn’t specified so I’m going modern here just because I’m not really sure where this could’ve happened in the canon timeline without a bunch of other factors impeding. Also I’m throwing in a dash of my fav jealous Cassian 😏

It wasn’t that Cassian didn’t want to be there. Well, no, actually that was exactly what it was. Cassian didn’t want to be there. He was exhausted and he hadn’t gotten to the gym that morning and he had a massive deadline that Rhys kept insisting they could push back but Cassian didn’t want to. He just wanted to go home and finish his report and maybe have a glass of whiskey to close off a truly awful week.

But Feyre’s art exhibit opened earlier that week and he hadn’t even gotten to see it yet and so it wasn’t like he could blow off her big party when he already felt like the world’s worst friend.

And he was completely lying to himself and everyone else. He didn’t want to be there because he didn’t want to watch Eris Vanserra’s slimy ass mill about the elegantly decorated, high ceilinged, natural light dripping, beautiful space, with his eyes glued to Nesta’s ass as if it was the art they were meant to be appreciating.

Did Cassian also appreciate every inch of her body like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo? Yeah but that was besides the point. And he had the respect to do it subtly.

“Remind me why he’s invited,” Cassian grumbled into his overpriced merlot. Because apparently only wine was classy enough for these fancy, classy, art events.

“He’s Lucien’s brother.” Azriel also didn’t look impressed by Eris’ uninvited hand on the small of Nesta’s back. Or the way he kept refilling her glass before she asked or was even done. “And he’s richer than Midas and spends a lot of that money on art.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “We have as much money as he does.”

“Yes but you know Feyre’s rule. No family purchases. She doesn’t want to be a success just because Rhys could buy and sell this entire gallery.” Azriel was stoic as usual. Betraying no opinion on the matter.

It was several hours of carefully constructed comments where Cassian pretended he knew anything about art and pretended his neck wasn’t getting increasingly hot under his collar as Eris kept glued to Nesta’s side.

Cassian had no right to be jealous. He knew that. He and Nesta weren’t anything. Casual flirting. Witty banter. Eternal, pining, unrequited love on his end that she didn’t even seem to notice or care about. So fine. Maybe Eris was her type. It wasn’t his place to interfere.

Except that she really needed a glass of water right now and-

Cassian’s hand darted out on instinct as Nesta walked past him, wobbling a little on her completely impractical shoes.

“Careful sweetheart.”

He braced for the hissed don’t call me that, but When he looked up Nesta was blinking slowly through a hazy wall of the wrong wine.

The wrong wine because Eris had been giving her a Nappa Cab Sauv all night when she preferred old world Syrah. Which was probably why she kept drinking it so quickly, looking for her opportunity to get what she really wanted.

“Cass,” she smiled. It was a little lopsided and definitely off kilter, but even through her wine brain he could see that she was playing at something. Nesta had never called him Cass in his life. “It’s so good to see you!” Her voice went up a full octave and she pressed her entire body against his as she hugged him.

The display turned a few heads in their direction. It was mostly just family at this point, and Eris who couldn’t learn how to take a fucking hint. Technically, he supposed, Eris was family. Nesta’s fucking brother in law. Was that how it worked? Was the brother of the person your sister married also your brother in law? Brother in law once removed?

Not important, moron. Drunk Nesta. Body. Wrapped in a tight sheath dress and clinging to him. Cassian closed his hands around her back and got lost for a minute.

Holding her against him like she was made to fit in his arms. Breathing in her scent like he could capture it in a bottle and spray it on his pillow every night before he went to bed.

Someone cleared their throat. Feminine. High pitched. Mor.

Nesta had already let go and was smirking at him a little. He dropped his hands immediately. “Um, yeah, always a pleasure.”

“Interesting choice of words,” Nesta’s grin was feline. She was definitely up to something. And normally he would make a stupid remark, probably something about how much more pleasurable the evening would be back at his apartment, except that she was drunk and his entire family was staring and Eris was still standing there.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” It seemed like the right thing to say. To offer. Feyre smiled a little, a silent thank you. Azriel was covering a laugh, Mor was watching them both with narrowed eyes like a hawk, and Rhys honestly couldn’t have cared less. Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe throw you into a pool,” Cassian joked stupidly.

“You should probably buy me dinner before offering to get me wet.” Someone dropped a glass. Cassian honestly thought it might have been him and he wouldn’t have noticed. Not in that moment. Not with Nesta looking at him through hooded eyes and talking about…

He could do this. His pants were not getting tight. Not at all. Because he wasn’t a damn teenager.

“I- um- do you-”

Nesta burst out laughing. It was a sound he’d never heard from her. She was usually all sultry under her breath snorts or ironic guffaws. Full, deep, angels singing, laughter was not usual for Nesta.

As evidenced by the fact the no one was even pretending not to be watching them anymore.

“I’ve got her.” Eris pushed himself back to Nesta’s side.

“Does he?” Nesta looked straight at Cassian, one eyebrow raised. “Because I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t have made it past glass two if your family wasn’t here.”

Azriel coughed. Amren cackled.

“You… do you want him to have you?” It came out wrong. The words. He meant did she want Eris to take her to get some water. Like he offered. He didn’t mean, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t…

“I want you to have me.” She was drunk. She was so drunk and it shouldn’t have been hot but fuck him it was. It wasn’t some sloppy college night out messed up drunk. It was a woman whose inhibitions had been soaked in wine just enough that every word out of her mouth was low and hot and honest.

“Find somewhere else to be, Vanserra.”

“Hey man what the fuck? We were talking-“

Cassian scoffed, snapping out of whatever flustered mess Nesta had put him in. “Anyone who gave her that much Cab Sauv doesn’t deserve to talk to her. Get lost.”

“I saw you eyeing the bottle,” Nesta laughed a little, swaying on her toes. Cassian moved his hands from a support on her bicep to a full arm around the waist support. Even if she did try to fall he could lift her with one arm easy. “Thought you might say something after…”

After the night they spent in her apartment with a bottle of her favourite Syrah only a week ago. It hadn’t been on purpose. Feyre and Elain and Azriel and Lucien were all supposed to be there. And they all conveniently cancelled only after he’d already showed up.

Which, judging by the barely contained grins on their faces, was even less of a coincidence than he thought. Busybodies.

“I’d offer you a glass of Syrah now, but I think what you need is a coffee.”

“Oh but then I’ll never sleep. And I do think I’m ready for bed.”

Sensing that he’d lost, Eris swore under his breath and stomped off.

“Let me take you home, Nes.” Cassian whispered into her hair.

“Hmm, your place or mine.”

“Yours,” he kissed her temple, pulling her legs out from under her and not even paying his family a backwards glance. “For a nightcap of 2 big glasses of water and a bottle of aspirin that I’m going to leave on your nightstand for the morning.”

“You don’t want to be there in the morning?”

Cassian groaned. “You said it yourself, Sweetheart. Dinner first.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down.” Nesta sighed, head lulling onto his shoulder.

“Actually go for dinner with me next week and I promise to never bring this night up again. And bribe our friends to do the same.”

“Deal,” Nesta said immediately.

An hour later after Cassian had supervised Nesta drinking her water he was about to leave her apartment when she yawned.

“Hey Cass,” she mumbled, half asleep.

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You made a bad bargain. I would’ve gone out with you either way.”

Cassian chuckled, a low rumble. “I’m satisfied with the bargain I made.”

“Cheesy as hell.”

“You love it.”

Nesta laughed, “I am prepared to tolerate it at best.”

“Good enough for me.”

[the-lonelybarricade]

Countdown to Love - (4/4)

Summary: Nesta is alone for the holidays, and she's totally fine with that... right? When she attends a speed dating event, she tells herself it's just to meet someone she can grab a coffee with over the break. What she gets instead is a Christmas experience unlike any other.

The final chapter of CtL! This contains possibly the least explicit smut I've ever written? Haha I hope you enjoy, lovelies! Thank you so much for reading my first Nessian fic, I had a lot of fun!

Part of @acotargiftexchange for @saphie3243

Part I/Part II/Part III ⟡ Holiday Masterlist ⟡ Read on AO3

Friday, December 24. 3:00 pm.

It was Christmas Eve, and Nesta hadn’t heard anything from Cassian about where to meet him. He usually texted her a time and place the day before, but he’d been radio silent since their tense drive home yesterday.

All morning she’d been debating texting him, wondering if she’d well and truly fucked up. How many times could she expect Cassian to keep coming back after she pushed him away? He was more determined than most, sure, but even he must have his limit.

Nesta chewed her lip as she glanced at the time for what was surely the fifth time that minute. She’d already drafted and deleted several texts messages, ranging from apologetic to asking him if his silence meant he was forfeiting their bet. She hadn’t worked up the courage to send any of them.

Suddenly there was a knock at her door and she practically ran to answer it, finding Cassian on the other side.

He looked a bit more tired than usual, but not as guarded as she expected, still mustering a handsome smile as he raised a handful of boxed DVDs.

“Watch these Christmas movies with me.”

She raised a brow. “Who uses DVDs anymore? I don’t even think I have something we can play them on.”

“Then we’ll watch them online,” he said, eyes twinkling. “But still, your challenge is to watch them with me.”

She frowned, searching him warily. “That’s all you want?”

“That’s all I want, Nesta.”

He’d been trying so hard to get her to cave in the buildup to Christmas, it seemed a bit anticlimactic. She wondered if maybe their stint yesterday had anything to do with that—perhaps he’d decided he didn’t want to spend Christmas day with her, afterall.

But he was here now, and she’d spent most of the morning worrying he wouldn’t be. So she managed a smile as she led him to the couch, while she hunted down online versions of the films he brought. Then, ignoring the fluttering in her chest, she settled into his side on the sofa.

Cassian looked surprised by her willingness to snuggle—and, really, she was too. Nesta couldn’t remember the last time physical affection hadn’t needed to be coaxed from her. She wasn’t a hugger. But Cassian… Cassian was like a giant teddy bear. It felt good to curl up against him, especially as he wrapped his arm around her waist and practically pulled her into his lap, so her back lay against his chest.

It was more forward than she’d expected him to be after yesterday. Nesta two weeks ago would have bitten his arm off for doing it. Now she’d reluctantly admit that it was exactly what she’d hoped he would do.

They didn’t speak much. Nesta absently wondered if he’d chosen to watch movies for that very reason, to avoid the topless elephant in the room. As his thumbs rolled absent circles where they rested at her hips, she thought he didn’t seem mad. Nor did he seem defeated.

He chuckled, softly, and because of their position she could feel the vibration of it rumble through his chest. It was a deep, rich sound, and it would have sent her stomach tumbling if he wasn’t laughing at her.

She whipped her head towards him, startled to find that his face was much closer than she’d anticipated, causing their noses to brush. She narrowed her eyes as he smirked.

“What?”

“What’s up, Nesta? I can feel you overthinking. Could you even tell me what happened in the last five minutes of the movie?”

Her silence was telling. She hadn’t been paying attention at all, knew so little about the plot that she couldn’t even guess. He laughed again at the silent admission.

“Your challenge was to watch the films, y’know. Can’t believe it would take something as easy as watching movies to finally crack you.”

Nesta moved back a bit, so she could see his full face. She followed the sharp planes of his face, his sharp jaw marked by feint stubble that made him look uncut and unbearably rugged. He was so far from the prince charming she’d imagined for herself as a little girl. That man had been smooth face and polished, primped and preened and well educated. Nesta would have torn that kind of man apart. He’d never be able to challenge her the way Cassian has.

“Why did you choose something so easy for the final day?” she asked, searching his face.

Those warm hazel eyes cut to hers, perhaps reading her uncertainty. He shrugged. “I just wanted to relax and spend the day with you.”

Was it pathetic that such a simple concept blew her mind? That Cassian enjoyed her company enough to just… want to savor it? She supposed she could give in to something like that. Satisfied with his answer, she snuggled back into arms, properly turning her attention to the film.

After the fourth film about discovering the “true” meaning of Christmas, Nesta felt about ready to gouge her eyes out. It was starting to get late. Cassian made no sign of leaving and she felt no urge to encourage him. Eight hours of Christmas films, it turned out, were perfect for a healthy dose of self reflection, especially since she related to so many of the characters who had closed their heart off for Christmas.

What was she so afraid of, really? She knew the answer. That she was terrified of letting Cassian in, because what if she did and then he decided to leave? Nesta had found losing people so unbearable that she’d decided it was better to just not have anyone to lose. Being alone, though, wasn’t any better. That’s why she’d gone to that speed dating event, because a part of her was hoping that maybe she’d find someone who was worth it.

And really, wasn’t she too far gone with Cassian? As much as she’d tried to resist it, she’d ended up falling for him. If she pushed him away now, it would still hurt to lose him. The guarded part of herself argued that it would hurt less to do it now, before she loved him so much it consumed her. But maybe she was tired of keeping her foot on the breaks.

She glanced over to him.

“Cassian?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

No thinking, just—jump.

“Kiss me.” There was a stagnant pause as he turned his head towards her, assessing her earnesty. “That’s your challenge. Kiss me, and don’t stop.”

A slow smirk bloomed over his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She shifted in his lap so that she was straddling him. For a moment, they just stared into each other’s eyes. The few times they’d kissed had always been in the heat of the moment. This… somehow felt more meaningful.

Cassian reached up and swept a lock of hair out of her face, hazel eyes never leaving hers.

“Didn’t you say that you usually spend Christmas with your brothers?” she asked, softly. Christmas Eve might just be another day to Nesta, but Cassian… he was probably missing plans.

“I wanted to be here, Nes.”

She wouldn’t have believed him if not for the earnesty burning in his eyes.

Slowly, his warm, calloused hand slid across her cheek until his fingertips brushed the nape of her neck. She felt the press of his fingers, urging her forward, and she gladly followed his pull until their lips were a breath apart.

That fire was burning inside of her, but as hungry and wanting as she felt, Cassian kissed her slowly. Nesta’s eyes fluttered shut, savoring this gentleness she’d so sparsely allowed herself. Her fingers found his silky hair, pleased he decided to leave it down today. As her mouth parted over his, she tried to convey her apology for all the times she’d pushed him away—willing him to understand that he meant a lot to her and that was terrifying.

Cassian grunted like he understood, tasting her like he was trying to memorize it. As though it were his own way of saying that he’d take whatever she was willing to give him, that if this was the only time she’d allow him in then he’d relish every moment of it.

Somewhere the tender touches dissolved into something more desperate, frenzied. Unsurprising, considering their two week buildup of sexual tension. But even as the kisses turned more heated, she sensed his hesitance. Even as she broke away to trail open mouth along his neck, nibbling and licking at his throat, his hand stayed chaste and gentle in her hair.

Nesta understood it was the result of her own skittishness, but she didn’t want him to hold back. On more than one occasion, she’d thrown her whole self at Cassian and he hadn’t flinched once. She could handle the same in turn.

“Cass,” she murmured, earning a groan from him as her hands dipped under his shirt and explored the hard slope of muscle. “Give me more. Give me everything. Please.”

He seemed to shudder at that, and then his hands were all over her—tracing the shape of her hips, kneading and caressing her ass, using his grip there to pull her hips closer against his. They both moaned as she ground against him.

Then she was pulling his shirt over his head, desperate to feel the fever-like heat of his skin flush against hers. His lips, his scent, the prickling warmth of his body, they were like her own personal lotus fruits, drawing her in, willing her to stay.

She gasped as he wrestled her shirt over her head in one thorough motion, fingers undoing the clasp of her bra with similar ease.

Then she was topless, exposed to him like yesterday except now his eyes were open. And he was staring at her as though she were something priceless in a museum. He made a sound halfway between a groan and a whimper before he ducked his head into her chest, tongue and teeth exploring the sensitive skin until she was keening against him.

She tugged hard against his hair and she felt him smile like he loved it, touching her like he was desperate to elicit more noise from her, growling his encouragement when her hips bucked against his involuntarily.

Then he lifted her up and carried her to the bed, question in his eyes when her legs hit the mattress. She only smiled, spreading her knees in invitation—one he seemed to gladly accept as he buried himself between her thighs like his own personal Christmas feast. Nesta would have been mortified by the noises that escaped her if she wasn’t so thoroughly undone by him.

There was no urgency in the way Cassian explored her. He drew her pleasure with his tongue until she was a shaking mess below him, and then he crawled over her on the bed, eyes warm and tender as they stripped away their remaining barriers. They interlaced their fingers as he entered her, kissing each other deeply, thoroughly with every languid stroke. As though they were far less focused on the physicality, and more on the connection that seeped and grew with each reverent touch.

Sex had never felt like this—like something pure and golden, like coming home. He was staring at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, eyes soft, lips smiling when they met hers.

He whispered her name, so like a prayer, as he buried his head in her neck, and she said his name in answer, like a thing of wonder. Something she’d always been looking for without even realizing, and had stumbled upon entirely by accident. It was only ever him and this golden, glowing string that ebbed and flowed between them, as blazing and brilliant as he was.

Nesta lost track of time, but eventually they collapsed into each other, pulses and breath stuttering, and she snuggled into his side, feeling warm and safe as she fell asleep in Cassian’s arms.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, she was nearly convinced it had all been a dream. But the mammoth of a man whose body curled over hers like a thick blanket was testament otherwise.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, Nesta thought, rolling over to get a better view of his face. She could feel each of his exhales like a gentle puff of air against her head. As she marveled at how calm she felt, Cassian stirred, cracking one eye open. When he saw her, the most adorable smile spread over his face, thoroughly cracking her heart in two.

It was game over from there, Nesta thought. She’d never be able to resist that smile ever again.

“Merry Christmas,” he mumbled, voice still thick from sleep, but he managed to open both eyes now, and they were fixed on her with an unparalleled tenderness. He shuffled closer, nuzzling his face into her hair. There was nothing subtle about the deep inhale he took as his hands began idle strokes down her back. “Looks like I got to spend it with you, afterall.”

She snorted in disbelief, but felt too content to care about their stupid bargain. It was the best Christmas she’d ever had. And for the first time in a long time, she felt happy. And had the sneaking suspicion she might stay that way.

⟡⟡⟡

Taglist: @littleloric @angelic-voice-1997 @c-e-d-dreamer @vasudharaghavan @sayosdreams @swankii-art-teacher

[hellogoodbye14]

Veiled Silhouettes (Part 2) - Gwynriel

Part 2 is up and ready with Rhys and Nesta colluding on a certain plan 👀, gwynriel training, gwynriel singing, oh and a very jealous Az.

“What do you mean we can’t go to their training?”, asked a suspicious Nesta.

Rhys just casually shrugged…. A little too casually for Nesta’s liking.

“I just think they need the time alone to get to know one another as partners. Besides, you and Cass being there might distract them and we’re short on time.”

Cass looked convinced at that answer but Nesta sure as hell was not. They’d told Rhys that they would join Az and Gwyn on their training today and Rhys practically jumped from his seat to stop them.

“Also I need you to help Mor on allocating the forces to the east.”

Cassian nodded and moved to leave but Nesta wasn’t done yet.

“Cass I’ll see you in a bit. I just want to discuss something about Feyre’s birthday surprise with Rhys.”

“Why can’t I be here for it?”

“Because you suck at keeping secrets”, said Rhys and Nesta in unison.

Cassian just rolled his eyes and left.

After the door shut, Nesta whirled around and pointed a finger at Rhys.

“I know you’re up to something.”

Rhys raised his hands, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the bullshit, you’re the biggest cupid in Prythian. I know for a fact you had me and Cassian spend time together on purpose.”

Rhys looked up at her in surprise.

“You’re doing the same for Az and Gwyn aren’t you?!”

Rhys looked offended, “You seriously think I would make an entire special mission so that they can spend time together and then come up with ways to make you lot give them privacy?!”

Nesta just levelled a straight look at him.

Rhys sighed after a few seconds, “ugh fine. I do actually need them for this mission but I might have tweaked it a bit to give them a nudge.”

Nesta smirked, “good. I want in.”

————————————————————————

Gwyn didn’t look impressed with this exercise.

“You want me to just stand still and be quiet for thirty minutes?”

It wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded, but Azriel wanted her to figure that out for herself.

“It means no fidgeting, no shifting from foot to foot, no whistling, no sighing. Nothing. Each time you move or make a noise, we begin again.”

With that, Azriel sat on one of the chairs in front of her and watched. Two minutes into the exercise, she cleared her throat.

“You made a sound, now you’re caught.”

“Shit.”

“Again Berdara.”

Seven minutes went by and she began drumming her fingers on her thigh.

“Nice tune there.”

“Damn it.”

She released an exasperated sigh.

————————————————————————

“I know you don’t realise you’re doing it but that’s bad. You need to be alert. You need to be fully aware of every sound you make. If you can hear you, you can damn well bet the Koschei’s enforcers can, too. Start again.”

Gwyn released the tension from her shoulders and nodded. For the next eighteen minutes, she managed to stay still, but then she bent her knees a little to relieve the stiffness in her legs. Instantly she realized what she had done and cursed.

“It’s a lot harder than it sounds.”

“I know.”

Azriel rose from his seat and went to her.

“You did well. Don’t worry, we’ll do a little at each session.”

“Now I’m going to introduce you to the art of moving stealthily. You’ve seen the way Rhys, Cass and I walk: fluidly, softly, evenly—”

“And in your case, cockily”, she muttered.

He gave her a smirk and continued on.

“Place your heel down and then roll your foot along the outer side to the ground.”

Gwyn replicated the move. “Like this?”

“Yes, now we’re going to stroll through the forest as quietly as we can.”

Three minutes into the exercise, Gwyn who hadn’t been doing too great had gotten so agitated that she was huffing at herself,

“What if the ground is littered with twigs, what do I do then?”

“You listen to the sounds of the forest and try to blend in.”

Azriel moved closer behind her and bent down to whisper in her ear.

“What do you hear?”

His cool breathe hit her neck and she felt herself shiver a smidge. For some reason she wanted to lean back into his body. She was exhausted is all, nothing more.. surely.

She released a sigh and answered, “Birds, bees, leaves rustling, animals scurrying around…”

“Good. You need to blend in with those sounds. This is where the soft and even walk ends. We run now, quiet as you can be Berdara.”

————————————————————————

“Oh my god, my back hurts. Actually scratch that everything hurts.”

Azriel chuckled at Gwyn, who kept groaning while seated in a booth at Rita’s. It was quiet there tonight and Azriel and Gwyn decided to grab dinner after training all day.

Azriel took out the salve he knew she’d need from his jackets pocket.

“Here, put this on tonight after you take a bath. It’ll soothe all the aches.”

She offered him a smile and nodded her head in thanks.

“So how badass was I when I managed to put you on your ass today?”

“Very badass, though the effect of it all diminished when I had you on your back a second later and you said ‘owwiee’.”

Gwyn sniffed and took a sip from her margarita, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

They ate and talked for another hour until the kareoke near the bar started.

“My ears will die a slow death today.”

Gwyn tilted her head, “he’s not so bad.. its just the wrong song for this place. The right one would wake them up.”

Azriel lifted an eyebrow, “oh you really think so.”

Gwyn lifted her chin, “I know so.”

Azriel waved his arm towards the stage, “prove it then.”

They stayed there in a stare contest, battling one another until Gwyn nodded, stood up and walked to the stage.

Holy mother cauldron….

She grabbed the mic next and started to sing an old prythian ballad.

Her voice was deep and perfect. It floated around the room and washed over Azriel.

She started swaying her hips in time to the music, and Azriel couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was mesmerizing.

She had the full attention of every man in the place. But her eyes…those stunning teal eyes…were looking straight at Azriel. She gave him a smile and motioned him to join her.

Azriel never sang in front of so many people but in that moment it didn’t matter. He wanted to join her, wanted to just be with her in the moment.

Next thing he knows, he’s on the mic singing along the words with her. Her eyes were sparking with clear joy as they swayed together with the rhythm of the music. When the last notes of the song faded away, the entire bar was on its feet hollering, clapping and hooting.

Gwyn let out an excited squeel and hugged him.

“Oh my god! That was amazing.”

Azriel was so taken back that it took him a second to process that she was hugging him. His shadows entwined around her before Azriel wrapped his arms around her. He rested his cheek against her head, taking in her honeysuckle-caramel scent and gently squeezed her back.

————————————————————————

Azriel and Gwyn were on their way back to the house of wind laughing about the man who drunkenly proposed to his significant other at the bar when Rhys contacted him.

Azriel

Yeah?

Could you and Gwyn please come by to the estate house. There’s someone you both need to see.

————————————————————————

Azriel and Gwyn walked into the living room to find Feyre, Nesta and Elain sitting together on the couch with a sleeping Nyx in Nesta’s arms. Meanwhile Rhys and Lucien stood by near the fireplace discussing something with wine in their hands.

“Got any more favours from me you Oldie?”, said Gwyn.

Rhys turned around at her voice and chuckled,

“This old man needs all you younglings to do the work because god knows my knees don’t have it in them anymore.”

Feyre snorted at that and passed Gwyn and Az each a glass of wine.

Rhys motioned towards Lucien who looked at Gwyn with blatant curiosity. A look Azriel did not appreciate.

“This is Lucien, he is -“

“Son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court. I know, I greatly admire your mother by the way.”

Lucien offered her a kind smile, bent down and kissed her hand in greeting.

“Pleasure to meet you Miss Berdara.”

Azriel was known for his control but for some reason he could not control the growl which escaped his throat at that moment.

Lucien looked a tad confused, Elain frowned, Feyre just raised her eyebrows in surprise… and Nesta and Rhys just looked really really amused and delighted.

“You alright there Az dear?”, asked a smirking Nesta.

To be continued….

Taglist:

@imsointobooks

@almosttenaciousmoon

@onemorenightdreamer

@clearlynothere1

@meher-sumedha

@sv0430

@atlasofdreams

Stealth training scenes inspired from phoenix pack series.

Pictures collected from pinterest

[separatist-apologist]

I have an idea for a one shot, Elucien, Nessian, and Feysand cutest couple contest and Elucien wins but then Eris and Arina walk in and actually win 😂

Okay anon, I'm sorry I sat on this for so long but it took me a hot minute to figure out how to write this.

I think you wanted fluff? Anyway you get unhinged insanity. This is the mating game (like the newly wed game) and if ANYONE says I got any of these couples besides Elucien wrong, it's because this is my first time writing them in earnest.

This is SFW though there are impolite sexual references so exercise good judgement. References to HENrietta the chicken (no apologies).

--

--

“What is this, again?” Nesta groused, crossing one leg over the other.

“It’s the mating game,” Gwyn, ever cheerful, replied. Beside her, Azriel helped organize a stack of cards, offering them to Gwyn without a word. The red-haired priestess perched on a stool to survey the group of people sitting in Rhys and Feyre’s drawing room. Though the game ought to be fun on its own, there were bottles of liquor just out of reach on a nearby table surrounded by cups and snacks.

“Why doesn’t he have to play?” Rhysand demanded, jerking his head towards the spymaster. All heads turned to look at Gwyn and Az, the two newest mates in Rhysand’s inner circle.

“Because he doesn’t want people knowing his personal business,” Gwyn offered. Azriel’s cheeks flushed as Lucien, Rhysand, and Cassian all glanced anywhere but at the females across from them. Twin black, leather couches had been rearranged for the game, with males on one side and females on the other. Behind the males, a roaring fire kept the howling wind outside from leeching cold into the softly lit room.

“Can we start or—”

“Not so fast,” Eris Vanserra stated, bursting through the twin glass, French doors theatrically. Behind him Arina, bundled in a puffy red coat, rolled her eyes and shook out long, blonde hair.

“I invited them,” Elain murmured quickly before Cassian or Rhysand could protest. “Arina is my best friend.”

“Hurtful, baby sister,” Eris intoned, joining the other males across the room. Arina plopped between Nesta and Elain, squeezing her friend tight. Azriel offered Arina a large stack of white cards and a black marker while Gwyn offered the same to Eris. It was impossible not to notice how Azriel’s eyes avoided Eris despite how desperately Eris was clearly trying to provoke him.

“The rules of this are simple,” Gwyn, perhaps sensing a squabble brewing, began explaining the rules of the game. “I ask questions about your mate, and you answer. The team with the most right answers wins that knife in the corner, generously donated by my mate, not to be used on anyone in this room.” Her eyes slid to Eris as she said that last part. Behind Azriel sat a gleaming silver hunting knife with a black, leather wrapped hilt placed just beside a matching leather sheath.

“Males first,” Rhysand decided and though Gwyn rolled her eyes, she didn’t contradict him.

“Want to take bets on who wins?” Cassian whispered.

“Shush,” Feyre shot back.

“The first question: What would your mate liked you to have served them when you accepted the bond?” Gwyn asked. All four females immediately turned to their cards. Elain began scribbling immediately, her lips upturned in a smile that very much said her and Lucien had discussed this before. Arina, too, was writing though her shoulders shook with laughter.

Nesta frowned, looking over at a furiously scrawling Cassian. “Did I not give him exactly what he wanted?” She whispered.

“No cheating!” Feyre elbowed Nesta though she hadn’t written anything either.

“Ten seconds,” Azriel warned. Everyone turned back to their cards, the only sound the squeaking of markers on slippery paper.

“Time.”

“Okay, we’ll start with Feyre. What would your mate likedyou to have served them when you accepted the bond?” Gwyn asked, teal eyes twinkling.

Feyre glanced towards Rhys, who was grinning openly. Azriel narrowed his eyes.

“No mind sharing,” the spymaster warned the pair of them.

“We’re not,” Feyre replied earnestly though the glitter in Rhysand’s violet eyes told the room he had definitely tried. “I wrote exactly what I gave him.”

“Turn your card, Rhys!” Gwyn replied excitedly. Rhys’ grin only widened.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Nesta snapped when Rhys revealed Feyre herself.

Beside Rhys, Lucien began shaking with silent laughter.

“Nesta?”

“I wrote what Feyre wrote,” Nesta replied, turning a card that read a biscuit.

“Oh…babe…we are going to lose,” Cassian said sadly, turning a card that read A nice roast.

“Ungrateful, is what you are,” Nesta grumbled.

“Elain?” Gwyn asked hopefully.

“Lucien said he would have been fine with dirt,” Elain replied, her card written neatly to reflect exactly what she said. Lucien turned his own card excitedly to reveal the word dirt written in impossibly nice calligraphy.

“The bar is so low,” Gwyn mumbled. “Okay, Arina, give us what you’ve got.”

“Eris wanted an apple pie,” she replied, flipping her card with a wink. Eris grinned, revealing his own card that had a drawing of an apple pie, followed with a little arrow pointing to his description that read apple pie.

“We cannot lose to Vanserra’s,” Cassian told Nesta.

“Then do better,” she hissed.

“Next question,” Gwyn interrupted, her teal eyes bright with amusement. “What is your mate afraid of?”

Everyone collectively groaned as they wrote. “This feels like political subterfuge,” Eris grumbled.

“Like anyone cares about your fears,” Azriel mumbled as a reply.

The responses were only a little better. Feyre and Rhysand both guessed my mate dying as their response. Nesta wrote endless warwhile Cassian responded with nothing, causing a booming laugh to escape Azriel’s mouth. Elain and Lucien also wrote my mate dying, and Eris, grinning at Arina, clapped his hands when she wrote falling into a pit trap. He’d done another drawing of a stick figure falling into a hidden hole causing the room to burst into speculation as to whether it had happened or not. The twinkle in Arina’s eyes suggested it very much had.

“Next question. What was the first thing your mate thought when they saw you for the first time?” Gwyn’s enthusiasm was unmatched and Azriel scooted just a little closer to Gwyn, his own hazel eyes bright with affection.

“Don’t get this one wrong, darling,” Rhys told Feyre as he wrote.

“I just know you two are cheating somehow,” Cassian complained.

“If we were cheating, we wouldn’t be losing to the Vanserra brothers,” Feyre shot back. “No offense, Lucien.”

“Some offense taken,” Lucien joked.

“Turn over your cards,” Azriel demanded.

Feyre went first. “I wrote, my mate is a human.” Rhys groaned, flipping over a card that read, “most beautiful female I’d ever seen.”

“That’s what I thought!” Feyre replied, outraged. Rhys merely shrugged. “We were thinking the same thing.”

Nesta, smirking, turned her card over next. My mate is terrifying.

Cassian cackled, revealing a card that read Nesta scared me.

“I know that’s romantic but…wow, Cas,” Azriel teased. Cassian merely shrugged.

“I always knew my perfect female would terrify me.”

“Same,” Nesta agreed with a smile.

Elain flipped over her card which read, oh no.

“You two sure are romantic,” Gwyn joked when Lucien’s card said the same.

“How do we know they’re not cheating?” Rhys demanded; eyes narrowed. Lucien sighed, exasperated.

“Perhaps we spend more time talking than the rest of you,” he suggested. Rhys considered that.

“Maybe. But only because my mouth is occupied—”

“C’mon!” The room complained. Even Gwyn narrowed her eyes at the High Lord, who displayed not one ounce of shame. Arina went last.

“Eris thought about how to get me naked,” Arina replied, revealing her card. True to form, Eris had drawn a rather crude image that caused Lucien to take the card from his elder brother and rip it in half.

At the end of the first round both Lucien and Elain and Arina and Eris were winning, with Feyre and Rhys coming in second and Nesta and Cassian in last place. They were given some time to talk with one another while Gwyn flipped through her cards, but the males were only interested in a rare bottle of whiskey Rhysand had recently acquired.

“This is why we’re losing,” Nesta complained when Cassian did two shots consecutively with Lucien.

“Hardly,” Elain teased as Azriel chuckled in agreement. Cassian narrowed his eyes towards his brother and Azriel shrugged.

“I heard enough up at that house.”

“Okay, okay, let’s do round two so we can all drink,” Gwyn insisted, urging everyone back to their spots. Elain winked at Lucien as Eris called, “We can’t let Lucien and Elain win.”

“Hey!” Elain cried.

“Full offense, Elain,” Eris added, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs from his younger brother.

“First question,” Gwyn called over the chatter. “What is your mates perfect day?”

The males all immediately began scribbling responses while the females watched suspiciously. Feyre went first. “In my art studio.”

Rhys groaned as he flipped his card. “In my bed.”

“You had to know I wasn’t going to write that,” Feyre chided.

“Ah but you were thinking it,” Rhys crooned.

Cassian, too, flipped over a card revealing a wholly inappropriate answer. Nesta sighed as she flipped hers over.

“Seriously? With my girls eating cake?”Cassian asked with disbelief while Gwyn rose from her stool to high-five Nesta.

“Hell yes, Cass. You know I love you.”

“Do I?”

Lucien was quick to flip over his card. “In the garden.”

Elain beamed, her own card reflecting his answer.

“That’s a euphemism, by the way,” Lucien informed the group, his cheeks-tinged pink from the alcohol. Elain spluttered, clearly embarrassed for all Lucien noticed. Cassian high-fived him with what he clearly thought was some covertness.

Eris was the last to flip his card which, true to form, depicted a rather crude drawing. Beneath it he’d written, getting absolutely wrecked.

Arina laughed. “You know me so well.” Her overturned card read Non-stop fucking.

“More information than I ever needed,” Azriel grumbled.

“Jealous?” Eris taunted. Azriel leveled an unyielding stare.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“I do dream of you,” Eris replied with a mocking grin.

“Who doesn’t?” Gwyn asked, defusing the situation with a smile. Next question, gentleman.”

“Don’t be gross this time,” Elain murmured, sending Lucien the sweetest death glare to ever exist.

“What are your mates biggest pet peeve?” Gwyn asked. All four males hesitated, glancing towards their mates as they wrote.

As usual, Rhys and Feyre went first. He wrote Tamlin which earned a round of laughter though did not match Feyre’s response (unlabeled paint tins). Cassian guessed Nesta’s answer right (being told what to do) and for the first time, Lucien guessed Elain’s answer wrong.

“Weeds?” Elain asked with an eye roll as she flipped a card to reveal mismatched patterns.

“Ah I almost wrote that,” Lucien said with a sheepish grin, reaching for the bottle of whiskey in Cassian’s hands.

“Are we going to let Eris win?” Nesta asked incredulously as he flipped over his card. It was a drawing of his face with big x’sfor eyes.

Arina laughed, her card reflecting his answer.

“I’m so afraid to go to Autumn Court,” Cassian mock whispered to Rhys. The High Lord nodded as he poured out more shots.

“Last question!” Gwyn told the room. “What is the best gift your mate ever gave you?”

All four men immediately began writing.

“Cassian I know what you’re thinking—”

“You don’t,” Cassian interrupted with a grin that told everyoneexactly what he was thinking.

“That’s my sister,” Elain reminded Cassian, who merely laughed.

Feyre got a little weepy when Rhys flipped over his card to reveal Nyx written in elegant script. She went and plopped into his lap, twining her arms around his neck. “Is that what you wrote, darling?” She showed him her card which did, indeed, have Nyx written on it.

“Ugh,” Nesta and Elain complained at the same time when the two began kissing. Cassian interrupted their moment with more crudeness.

“What?!” He asked with a laugh when she tossed her card at him. “We were losing anyway and these two—” He jerked his thumbs towards Rhys and Lucien –“Are being gross and sentimental. Is that what you want? Open, public displays of affection?”

“Were you not already?” Azriel asked with one arched brow. Nesta’s cheeks immediately reddened.

“What did you write?” Cassian demanded, picking up his card. His face softened at what he saw. “Oh Nes.”

“Oh no,” Azriel muttered when Nesta attacked Cassian’s mouth with her own. “Someone stop them.”

“Hey,” Lucien snapped next to Cassian’s ear. “Save that for later.”

“What did the card say?” Gwyn asked curiously. Nesta showed the red head her card, displaying my freedom to the room.

Lucien flipped his card quickly. “See, this is what I meant,” Cassian grumbled when Lucien revealed the word you to which Elain, beaming, revealed a second wrong answer.

“Did you really write Lucien’s best gift was the chicken you two share?” Arina asked with disbelief, looking at Elain’s card.

“Henrietta is our baby,” Elain protested. Lucien chuckled but did nothing to contradict her assertion.

“Alright Eris. What did Arina write?” Gwyn asked.

Eris had drawn a picture of what was clearly Arina in a crown. “My High Lady,” he crooned, his russet eyes filled with affection. Arina smiled, her card the same.

“It was a nice surprise,” she admitted.

“I can’t believe you two let Eris win,” Rhys chided Lucien and Elain, now sitting on the same side of the couch holding hands.

“You know, while all of you were fucking instead of getting to know each other, Arina and I spent vast amounts of time separated. We wrote letters,” Eris informed the room with just a touch of defense. Arina perched herself on the arm of the sofa Eris sat on, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I could tell you her whole routine since the moment she was bornuntil this morning.”

“I’d rather have done the fucking,” Cassian announced. Lucien choked on his whiskey as Rhys nodded in agreement. “We’ve got forever, I’m in no rush.”

“I’m boring, anyway,” Rhys added. Feyre elbowed him hard.

“This is not how I thought this was going to go,” Gwyn admitted. Azriel, his hands on her shoulders, was walking her to the half empty bottle of whiskey.

“At least we have alcohol to numb the pain,” Feyre joked. There were giggles in response.

At least they had each other.

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 30)

Notes: Well, it's here... the chapter you have all been waiting for. I can only hope that you like it and that it tugs at your heartstrings. This is my Valentine's day gift to all my wonderful readers who have stuck with me for thirty chapters for... this, I imagine. It's a start—a beginning for these two—as they step into something new. As usual, forgive any typos and I intend to reply to every one of you who commented on the last chapter. I'm so sorry for the delay in replying, things have been a bit crazy on my end, but I appreciate every single one of you.

ACOSF in two days...! And because I am desperately trying to keep spoiler free, please don't mention any snippets you may have received beyond SJM's teasers. That includes the leaked chapters—please keep it to yourself but of course, let me know what you think of the chapter and my inbox is open for any of you wanting to speak to me spoiler-free. Thank you so much <3

Chapter Thirty Cassian  

Pure, undiluted rage burned inside of Cassian. It roared, drowning everything out as he landed to a blood bath of winged males impaled with pine needles, charred ashen bodies and the evidence of killing blows. But Cassian only registered them because of the years of training that had been drummed into him to catalogue and analyse his surroundings.

His hands wielded twin swords as if they were an extension of who he was but his legs… they moved of their own accord, racing towards the opening of the cave without him asking them to. Towards that scent that Cassian had no problem detecting above the blood and shit and gore.

Behind him, Lorrian swore as they stepped over the threshold of the cave’s entrance, their siphons flashing and flaring to find rusty cages lining the walls and a pit of blood in the centre. The awful images of dirty abused girls registered as Cassian desperately scanned the cave—until his eyes fell on Nesta’s back. Her leathers were streaked in red and she was kneeling in a pool of blood before an injured girl who was wreathed in that wondrous, singing light.

Frawley appeared beside them in a swirl of smoke, moving in that way she often did that hinted she was more element than being, stopping them in their tracks a few feet away.

“What took you so long,” Frawley snapped to Cassian, one blue eye boring into him whilst the other flicked to Lorrian at his side, as if her attention could not help but be drawn to her husband. “Get Nesta out of the trance—now. Pull on that damned cord, do whatever you need to do. She channelled her energy from the fear and despair, but her body is dropping into exhaustion. She’s going to crash earlier than expected. We haven’t trained for this. Only you—”

Frawley’s voice tuned out as the crack of Cassian’s knee-caps jarred his body as he hit the rocky floor. Wet seeped through Cassian’s leathers, courtesy of the pool of fresh blood coming from the dead male to Cassian’s right, but he barely registered. He was too busy detecting the stale scent of arousal and death and cruelty. This was a male had no doubt stuck his cock where it did not belong and caused unimaginable harm to innocent, defenceless girls as they cried and struggled.

Anger soared into the snow ruffled peaks of Cassian’s fury at the thought and the cave… it quaked in response.

“Don’t bring the cave down as you do it.” Frawley’s words bit through him, her voice wholly ancient—too like Amren’s. “Put a leash on it otherwise we’ll be buried in rubble.”

It was easier said than done to reign in that snarling beast. But then time seemed to—change. From the moment Cassian pressed his back to Nesta’s and hoarsely began to chant her name, everything blurred and tumbled. As Cassian’s eyes shut of their own accord, the cave became as dark and depthless as a night sky devoid of starlight. As Cassian was pulled deep within himself, sucked inwards by a vacuum he had no control over.

The black Cassian spiralled down towards was as thick as tar, but to his right, a shadowed veil rippled in an invisible wind. It chanted in tandem with the screaming in his mind, that one word repeated over and over and over—a mate calling to its mate. A male calling to their beloved and hoping they were enough.

That beautiful healing lullaby had started to miss the right notes, the music falling into something off-kilter and gut-wrenchingly wrong. Panic rose like bile in Cassian’s throat and he reached for that twisted rope, and, without hesitating or second guessing himself, he tugged on it with all of his might.

The resounding crack and splinter in Cassian’s ears was awful. Pain threw itself down that bond and into the heart of his chest. And then, for a beat as that pain ebbed away, there was nothing… Even the healing music stopped. The quiet was so eerie Cassian could only hear his heart beating wildly in his ears. But then he felt it: fiery strength and steely determination. A light travelling down that tether to meet his, scenting of jasmine and vanilla—of Nesta.

Then Cassian was thrown outwards and his eyes opened to find the cave bleeding back into focus and that enthralling power dying at Nesta’s hands. Her magic dropped with such suddenness that she lost balance and careened backwards into his chest. The jolt had the world tilting again, but Cassian scrambled to collect himself, encasing Nesta safely in wings and arms.

By the time those smoky blue eyes snapped open and stared up at him, Cassian was already ferociously scanning Nesta’s body for injury. He catalogued every cut and scrape, every smear of blood. He turned her hands over in his to find them stained red. There was so much death on Nesta’s hands if the charred remains and bodies impaled with fiery weapons were anything to go by. This strong, sharp female fighting for what was right—to fight for those who could not defend themselves, even as it sent her spiralling into the darkest of places.

And Cassian knew it had effected her in unthinkable ways. Knew as he stared into those beautiful eyes that had held such life in the past month and found her pupils blown wide and unseeing. Felt the churning emotions that Nesta was too overwhelmed to keep in check as they hurtled down that bond between them. Frozen wrath and terror and agony. Each sensation a double-edged sword as it was plunged into the gut, over and over.

Fury clambered inside of Cassian at the injustice of Nesta’s magic. That not only was she burdened with the tireless task of keeping a check on her own heightened emotions, but others as well. Constantly monitoring them day in and day out so they did not become too much—so they did not swell and spill over the wall she had resurrected for herself. The wall that had been lowered so it was waist-high rather than a fortress—so she was not doomed to float through life numb and unfeeling and at a distance from others.

Understanding all of that—the sacrifice and burden Nesta carried—had the cave shaking again as Cassian ordered Nesta to put her walls up. Loose pebbles and dust rained down from the ceiling, and in the periphery, Cassian heard Lorrian swear and Frawley hiss, but that anger… he couldn’t control it. It was white hot and sizzling, boiling his blood and making his power itch. His siphons hadn’t stopped flaring since he’d first felt Nesta roaring down that bond and he’d known something was dreadfully, knee-tremblingly wrong. He and Lorrian had torn through the sky as he followed that invisible tie wreathed in light—emerald and ruby shooting stars tracking their way across the sky.

And now… that anger that had been pushing against his skin was morphing into something truly terrible—the monster who became consumed by blood lust. Just as he had that day when he’d slaughtered and tortured all of the males at the Spearhead camp—

A hand rested on Cassian’s cheek, cutting through that urge to massacre and ask questions later. The touch was grounding and so unquestionably right that he leant into that blood splattered palm, relishing in the cool, slim fingers which cut through that fire.

“Walls up, Nesta,” Cassian ordered, as he felt those talons hooking deep inside of her, clawing at her, tugging her down into the oily depths where he could not reach her. He watched those eyes glaze over until they were hollow, and even though that bond was open, everything went so unearthly quiet that Cassian would have thought some vital connection had been severed if it wasn’t for the faintest glimmer of her that sparked in the gloomy dark.

Everything moved too fast after that. And the entire time Nesta walked around the cave and clearing like a phantom ghost, even as she held her hands out to assist Frawley in healing any urgent injuries.

“We need a support unit or we need to get out,” Lorrian said roughly in Cassian’s ear, as together they surveyed the bastard tied to the tree. Nesta’s bindings still glowed silver and the bastard’s head hung limp against his chest from where Cassian had knocked him out.

“Frawley can cast a shield over this place so nobody can get in or out without our say so,” Lorrian continued, “but I don’t doubt that Ironcrest will have warriors out searching for us. Not after we left so abruptly without informing anybody of where we were going. I bet the first thing Rufous did was send a messenger straight to Marsh or Kallon. I suggest we leave and come back tomorrow with males we can trust to search the place.”

Kallon—the prince who none of them had seen all day. Not even in the sparring ring. And whilst Marsh hadn’t made an appearance, it was the latter that sent warning bells ringing in Cassian’s head. Something about it was off. All of them could all sense it, but right now there were bigger matters at hand. Namely what to do with the females.

“Can you host the girls at the cottage?” Cassian asked his friend. From the girls that had been able to speak, it was clear that all of them apart from Samra and Ailie had no parents to speak of. “Set up makeshift accommodation until we decide what we need to do?”

It was dangerous territory they were stepping into. A statement and the beginnings of power-play to take females from a camp, even if it was for their safety. Lesser actions had started wars between the clans, but Cassian would not stand by. Rhys wouldn’t either. Especially not when the males were wearing bands around their arms that Cassian was certain belonged to the rebellion.

“Of course we can,” Frawley announced as she came up beside them. Nesta and Sala were close behind. The manticore had stuck to Nesta like a shadow since Cassian had arrived, as if she too could sense that Nesta was far, far away. “It will be quicker if I channel us to the cottage.”

Lorrian was frowning with concern. “All at once?”

“Needs must,” Frawley clipped, but she did not meet her husband’s eye. “It will drain me after I cast a shield but I can do it. It does mean that I won’t be able to channel you and Nesta back to Windhaven. There won’t be room—”

“That’s fine,” Cassian interjected, with a quick cut of his hand through the air. “We’ll fly from the Steppes.”

“I can help.” It was the first time Nesta had spoken in a long while and it came out as a rasp. “I still have some magic left—to help heal the girls. I can heal their wings.”

Terror gripped at Cassian’s gut but he would not tell Nesta no. He wouldn’t take this from her—her ability to heal and bring life rather than take it away. Even though Cassian was tired, he could feel the whisper of Nesta’s magic churning back to life, no doubt fuelled from the sickening history that had seeped into the landscape.

Those eyes slid to Cassian as her chin tilted upwards. And although there was a fierceness to Nesta’s expression, something was missing, as if she wasn’t really there. “I can do it.”

He nodded to show he understood, just as Frawley added, “Caer has already gone on ahead to alert my sisters. They’ll come to help heal the injured. One of them can send word to Velaris for you, assuming that’s what you need to do.”

Cassian nodded. That was essential. Cassian needed to connect with his family to tell them what had happened here. He needed to let Rhys into his mind so he could showcase the horrors and get Azriel down to interrogate the bastard Nesta had thought to keep alive rather than bring about his death.

The male that Cassian knew to be called Alaksandar had struggled and thrashed against Nesta’s magical bindings when he had first spied the general—had pissed himself as he surveyed the iron rage on Cassian’s face. It had taken everything in Cassian not to murder him on the spot, but they needed him—needed the information he would bring once Azriel plucked out Truth-Teller from its shadowy sheath. Not that Cassian wasn’t tempted to wrestle the information out of the male himself.

Time sped by after that. Frawley obliterated the shattered remains of the shield hiding the cave from sight before casting an impenetrable web of her own. Then she had weaved another bubble—her magic a smoke that glittered with such gentleness that Nesta did not tense beside him. Cassian pulled her to him anyway, burying his hands in her hair at the nape of her neck. But Nesta did not look at him. Did not even seem to notice as they blended into smoke and mist—into water and earth and air—until they were channelled into the muddy paddock that served as a sparring ring at the back of the cottage.

Frawley’s sisters had kitted out the barn with inviting, spacious beds and cast their magic so it was wonderfully warm and inviting—safe. And even though Frawley’s sisters were far more intimidating than the white-haired witch, they had all dampened their glow, emitting an aura of calm that even made Cassian forget at times that they were something ancient—something other.

Cassian sought out Kalika as soon as they landed—the dark-skinned witch of the Northern Steppes and the most terrifying of Frawley’s sisters—and dared to ask her to cast a message to Rhys which disappeared on a moth-carried wind. Frawley’s other sisters—Narihara and Andraste—swished between the kitchen and the barn, remedying and administering sleeping draughts and tinctures designed to ease pain.

Frawley saw that all of them received her tea tonic and Cassian had felt energy flush into his system before it was promptly drained again as he ferried between the barn and the cottage, pressing drinks into Nesta’s hands whenever he saw her start sway.

Somehow Cassian knew when Nesta was done—when her body was close to giving out—the tea no longer enough to replenish her magic levels which had seen her hanging just barely on the precipice of her magic reserves. Nesta had not had enough power left to heal the cuts in the girls wings, but was able to knot bone and membrane back together. It had taken Madja weeks to repair the tatters of Cassian’s wings—the spell-work too intricate for even the most skilled of healers—but Nesta melded bone and membrane back together with an ease that others could not muster. Even Frawley’s sisters had eyed Nesta with cautious admiration, as if they could sense that celestial something inside of her that set her apart from everyone and everything. A queen on a much-earned pedestal.

Cassian found Nesta kneeling by another makeshift bed, her hands emitting that pure white light as they hovered over a set of bent and torn wings. The light was buttery soft rather than blinding white, and Cassian could tell from the way it sang softly that her power was a whisper of what it should be—just as his was. Despite the multiple brews he had drank, his siphons throbbing had ebbed to a flickering pulse, something which had Frawley eyeing him in that disconcerting way of hers as she brusquely waved at him to go home and come back when he was useful.

He had not protested. He wanted to get Nesta home. For her to convalesce in a place that was associated with safety and warmth. Where she could bathe and rid herself of the blood whilst he sat with an ear to the door. Where he could ensure that she ate and looked after herself. A place where she could be herself—where she could be quiet and digest and allow herself to be hollow if that was what she needed. But Nesta now—pretending to be ok when her eyes were so blank—was making it hard to breathe.

And still down that bond, Cassian felt nothing. Wide open, for once, but utterly empty—like a tunnelled-out void.

“Nesta.” Cassian touched his fingers so they rested gently against a shoulder. She did not reply or twist to look up at him, but the light faded from her palms, like a star winking out.

Cassian took a healthy step away as the girl Nesta had been healing watched him with wary, glazed eyes. He made himself smile at her, even as the girl shrank back into herself, pressing herself into the mattress as if she was willing herself to disappear.

For the first time in Cassian’s life, he wished he could vanish the wings and the tattoos—anything that marked him as Illyrian. That reminded the girl of the horrors she had suffered.

Bending over, Nesta spoke in such hushed tones to the girl that even Cassian could not hear her. But then Nesta was standing, her posture as steely and distant as she rose as if she were balancing a crown on her head. Narihara swooped in to administer the girl a sedative to help her sleep and Sala, who had been sitting on her haunches by the bed, rose to her feet.

Together, they walked in silence out of the barn. Cassian deliberately paced himself a few feet behind Nesta and the manticore who padded at her side. Dusk was well and truly descending and starlight already dusted the night sky. In the Steppes nature was its own creature and despite the cottage, it felt as if the sky was a tangible canvas, so low they could reach up and brush the starlight with their fingertips.

“Sweetheart,” Cassian rasped softly. He had intended to say something else, not that he knew what that was going to be, but as Nesta turned to him, speech left him. She looked so lost—so broken and traumatised—that Cassian felt as if he had been transported back to when she had first arrived in Illyria with him. When she was gaunt and traumatised and wholly unreachable.

Cassian’s blood-stained fingers lifted her chin so he could search her eyes. And in them—nothing. No whisper of that colossal fire or that fierce defiance that he loved. None of that at all. Only vast emptiness.

“I want to go home.”

The confession was small and almost childlike and Cassian nearly fell to his knees.

Home. She wanted to go home—with him.

Cassian pulled Nesta’s unnaturally pliant body to him. One hand fisting into the hair at the nape of her neck—into the tangled brown hair that had all but fallen from her braid. Nesta did not hug him back, but after a moment, she fisted her hands against his chest and her forehead came to rest just over his heart.

“Ok sweetheart, we’ll go,” Cassian murmured, dropping his lips to the crown of her head and pressing them there—instilling all the love and comfort into the gesture that he could muster. “I’ll take you home.”

***

Windhaven was sleeping when they finally landed outside of the bungalow with Sala close behind them. Even the skies had been quiet on the flight back: Cassian had only seen the odd Illyrian patrolling the skies, their figures a streak of darkness temporarily blotting out the starlight as they tracked the perimeter. They usually knew better than to stop Cassian mid-flight, but he had winked his siphons into the dark anyway, warning them to steer clear. The last thing they needed was to be stopped when they were so close to home.

The stone house was eerily quiet when they stepped across the threshold, and bobbing faelights gently flickered to life, illuminating the way as Cassian led Nesta by the hand down the hallway. He had been touching her at every opportunity since he had found her on her knees, covered in blood and her hands humming with that ancient healing light. Cassian had hoped the physical contact might anchor her, but Nesta had continued to slip away from him ever since, until their connection was nothing but an empty, lifeless corridor.

“Shower then bed,” Cassian told Nesta as he pushed open the door to the bathroom to reveal the large tub. “You’ll feel more fae once you have cleaned up.”

Nesta did not respond. She just stared past him, her pupils blown wide and unseeing. The sight nearly undid him. It had been a long while since he’d seen that look.

As he turned on the faucets and pulled the lever under the taps, Cassian wondered if this was how Nesta had been after the war. If whilst he and his friends had been toasting their success and trying to pretend everything was fine, she had gone up to her room, hollow and broken, already changed into someone else.

And the worst thing about it all was that Cassian had left Nesta to her own devices. He had not chased after her and reiterated what he had told her on the battlefield. Already he had been so consumed with the terror of rejection—the fear that now they weren’t on death’s door, Nesta might shatter his heart rather than allow him to kiss her.

It turned out that fear had only served to cement Nesta’s opinion of him—that he merely lusted after her, the bond tricking him into thinking he wanted something that he didn’t. That what his heart really wanted was Mor instead. Nesta had made that much clear the evening before.

He was a fucking idiot. Not just for failing to pursue Nesta, but for failing to intervene when he had known how sick she was. For not using his years of warrior training to understand what was truly going on—how it was not about him and his bruised ego, but something else entirely. Something much bigger.

Running a hand under the water, Cassian waited until it was hot and the tendrils of steam filled the room with its wispy fingers. When he turned back to Nesta, all it took was one look at her small and blood-stained body to know that if he left her to it, she’d stand in that shower long after the water ran cold.

“Usually we take our clothes off for a shower, sweetheart,” Cassian teased, hoping that his words would coax out some sort of reaction. When Nesta remained quiet, he cupped her pale, blood-streaked face with a hand. “Don’t finally give me that opportunity to undress you,” he warned.

Nesta’s fingers clasped around his arm and his leathers creaked at the impact. It was a silent plea for him to stay, so Cassian just gave her the lopsided smile he usually saved for her. “My lucky day,” he said softly.

Tugging off his stained clothing, Cassian stepped into the shower in his shorts. He bit back a groan as the hot water ran over his flared wings, soothing away the sharp cold which had bit into them as he flew them home.

After adjusting the temperature, Cassian held his hand out to Nesta. Her eyes were still devoid of expression, and although she was watching him, Cassian had a feeling that Nesta was really floating somewhere above them, detached from her body and unable to come back down.

“It’s nice and warm,” Cassian coaxed, but his voice remained a soft echo rather than playful.

There was a pause where time seemed to stretch out too thin. Where Sala looked beseechingly at Nesta with worried golden eyes. When the manticore nudged Nesta’s arm with her nose, Nesta startled, as if she had indeed been very far away.

He knew things were bad—very bad—when Nesta mutely peeled off her own leathers and joined him.

Cassian had fantasised about taking Nesta in the shower more times than he dared to count. It was usually hard and fast against the wall, her breathy moans ringing off the tiles as he made her come around him. It had never crossed Cassian’s mind that they might shower together covered in blood and still wearing their underwear.

Slim fingers curled around his as Nesta stepped into the tub and Cassian only had time to briefly note Nesta’s body had filled out—those sharp, skeletal edges softened with flesh and toned muscle built from hearty meals and rigorous training—before he realised just how cold she was. Goosebumps littered Nesta’s skin and her lips held a blueish hue that had alarm bells sounding inside of his head.

Wings and arms curved around her on instinct, coaxing Nesta under the water with him so he could cocoon her in heat. He foamed up a sponge, and when Nesta made no move to take it from him, Cassian gently began to run it over her pale skin—until dried blood smeared, running down her white skin before it swirled down the drain.

For the entire duration Nesta remained vacant and unresponsive. Yet, even though Cassian couldn’t feel the faintest flicker of emotion through their bond, he knew that she trusted him enough to care for her. So, when the water ran clear, Cassian did not ask for permission before he slowly started to unravel her braid. It was hard work—matted dark red ensnared the hair but after working shampoo into the strands, Cassian was able to run his fingers through without any snags.

Leaving Nesta to wash out the shampoo herself, Cassian started to make work on his own body. He was covered in far less blood than Nesta—by the time he’d arrived, it had been too late to massacre those bastards himself—but red coated his knees and legs from where he had dropped into the pool of blood on the floor. And his hands…they had been smeared with it from where he had held Nesta’s wrists, trying to coax her back to him as she plunged to rock bottom.

Cassian was so consumed by the memory that he was only just in time to catch Nesta tipping her head back under the faucet with her eyes wide open. A hand shot out reflexively, cupping Nesta’s hairline as shampoo started to run down her face and into the long spikes of her eyelashes. The bubbles must have stung, but Nesta didn't even blink. It was as if she hadn’t even noticed.

After that, Cassian didn't take his eyes off of her, and once Nesta’s hair was free from shampoo, he turned her in his arms so her back was flush against his chest and began to tackle her fingernails. Her body was so unusually pliant—so mouldable—that Cassian felt as if he were a puppet master with strings, her arms and hands limp as he scrubbed at the arcs of her fingernails until they were free of red.

In fact, Cassian had become so used to supporting Nesta’s body that he almost startled when he turned back from shutting off the now lukewarm water to find her facing him. Frozen in place, Cassian watched a pale arm lift so Nesta could brush her ice cold fingers over a whorl of ink curving around his left bicep.

Cassian was barely breathing—not only unsure of what to do but also of startling her, somehow—but then something broke inside of him and he reached for her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles for far longer than he should have.

It hurt to move away from her—to step out of the tub and wrap a towel around his hips—but Nesta had started to shiver uncontrollably, her skin entirely bleached of colour. He threw the largest, fluffiest towel he could find around her body, and desperate to warm her up, rubbed his palms over her arms, encasing her in wings as he lifted her onto the bath mat beside Sala. And whilst logic told Cassian that Nesta was shaking from a combination of both shock and cold, it didn’t stop the worry that took a hold of him.

“Get yourself dry,” Cassian told Nesta. “I’ll go and get you some clothes.”

Suppressing a grunt at the winter chill that clung to the air and snapped at his wings, Cassian lit the log burner in his room before he quickly tugged on some loose pants. The unconscious decision for Nesta to stay with him was already fully formed in his mind. There was no way he was leaving her to sleep alone given her current state, and whilst Cassian could sleep in the armchair by her bed, the territorial part of him needed her safe with him, in his bed, as close to him as she would allow. And after last night… it wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared a bed before, anyway.

The panic that flared inside of Cassian when he arrived back at the bathroom with a clean nightgown clutched in his hand was so sharp and twisting that his breath caught. Nesta hadn’t moved—not an inch—and whilst Sala was nudging her companion’s torso with her muzzle, Nesta just continued to shiver violently as if she hadn’t felt the impact at all. Her skin was still wet and her hair hung lank against her shoulders. Droplets of water dripped steadily onto the floor tiles from where she had failed to ring it out.

Cassian swore. Stumbling towards her, he grasped at Nesta’s shoulders with his hands. She was cold to the touch. “Sweetheart, we need to get you dry,” he rasped.

He ducked his head to look at her, but Nesta just curled in on herself, her arms wrapping even further around her body as she shook. Cupping her face in his hands, Cassian hoped that his touch would bring her out of the far reaches of her mind, but she just continued to tremble, mute.

So, with gentle, efficient hands, Cassian towelled Nesta dry before pulling her nightgown over her head. He pressed her hair gently between the swaths of a towel, coaxing out as much water as possible, and when he was satisfied her hair wasn’t going to soak her nightgown, he stepped back.

“You’re staying with me tonight,” he told her sternly, and not bothering to wait for the  reply he knew would not come, Cassian scooped her uncharacteristically malleable body into his arms and carried her to his room.

The log burner was still blazing fiercely as he lowered Nesta onto the midnight blue sheets. He piled the duvets on top of her anyway, plus a few more thick blankets over that. Not wanting the fire to go out, he threw some more wood through the cast-iron door, working quickly in case the fire crackled or popped. With Nesta’s magic near drained, the last thing Cassian wanted was to trigger her flashbacks on top of everything else, but he was too concerned about her blue lips to forgo the fire altogether.

Only the top half of Nesta’s head was visible beneath the mountains of blankets, her pointed ears poking beneath her wet hair. She looked so small and vulnerable it was hard to believe that she had slain so many males earlier, that power of hers sizzling and burning through flesh until they were nothing but charred remains and shells of who they once were. Those males might have taken those girls freedom but Nesta had taken their lives before Cassian had even got to her.

He wondered when he would stop failing her—if he ever would.

“Come here,” Cassian murmured as he climbed into bed beside her.

Nesta surprised him when she did as he asked. Her knees knocked against his thighs as she inched closer—like a moth to a flame—and she rested her cold forehead against his chest without being prompted, right over his heart, as if the warm beat of life would thaw the frozen ice in her bones.

Tangling their legs together, Cassian tried to ignore how his skin hummed as their bodies intertwined, hating himself for reacting so strongly to her touch when she was suffering. He lifted a wing instead—an unknown apology—and wrapped it around her, using it to direct the heat from the fire towards their bodies.

The rustle of his wing made Nesta stir. Slowly, she looked up through her eyelashes and as their eyes locked, something clicked deep inside of him, turning. His heart let out a long, deep thump, the sound reverberating throughout his body. He felt it in the air at the same time that Nesta’s hands fisted in his tunic. The sensation was heavy and delicious and as intoxicating as any drug.

Their sudden intimacy felt so right. They had never touched like this—her body entangled with his—and now he knew what it was like, he never wanted it to end. He couldn’t bare the thought of sleeping without her. Even in his sleep last night he had reached for her, his wing protecting her instinctively.

He wondered if Nesta knew what that meant.

“Better?” Cassian made himself ask, rubbing a palm up and down the arm that wasn’t pressed to the mattress. It was a poor attempt to sever his thoughts, but his voice was hoarse… nervous. His heart had started to kick again, the sensation hard and slow against his ribcage, his blood thick and sluggish in his veins. Her eyes were the most blue he’d ever seen them; they were the colour of the sky after a strong bout of rain, as the clouds parted to make way for the sun.

Somehow, Cassian knew what was going to happen before it did. He couldn’t even say who initiated it, only that their heads tilted and dipped in unison, like two magnets inexplicably and undeniably drawn to one another.

If they ever kissed again, Cassian had always imagined that it would be passionate and frantic. A screaming match turned into a lusting frenzy, his mouth hot on hers as he swallowed her moans. But this… this was better. This was perfect. It was his undoing.

It was slow and scorching, the intensity of it so immediate that Cassian felt like he was suspended in time… hovering. And he knew… he knew that they were meant for this, he and Nesta. They were meant for one another from the instant their open lips brushed, from the way that they moulded together like they had been kissing for centuries. Heat bloomed in his chest, a torturous burning pleasure that spread through every nerve in his body, licking its way down his limbs before settling like a weight in his groin. His body was taut and pliant at the same time and all he wanted was to be even closer to her, to feel every inch of her body fit against his own.

He wanted to taste her skin, to bury himself in her scent. He wanted—

A groan rumbled through him as their tongues met, the sound deep and almost animalistic. Desperate for more, he tangled a hand in Nesta’s wet hair, gently tilting her head back so he could be granted better access to her mouth.

Nesta made a strangled noise in the back of her throat—the first sound she had made in hours—and her knee slipped further between his thighs, her body moving to press flush against his—

The movement sobered Cassian, the hazy fog of want parting slightly for reason to stumble through, like a newborn fawn on gangly legs.

The gravity of what they were doing hit him like a punch to the gut.

If she moved any closer, she would feel just how much he wanted her.

There would be no turning back, after that.

Even though his body was screaming for him to flip her onto her back and settle between her legs, Cassian made himself pull away. The movement felt wrong… agonising.

His hand shook with restraint.

If Cassian had ever doubted their mating bond, he wasn’t now. Instinct was driving him to claim her, even though he knew in the back of his mind—the part that cared so deeply—that Nesta was too raw, too exposed to know what she wanted. Even though she was the most vulnerable he’d ever seen her, the territorial male in him wanted to bury himself inside of her; to solidify the very thing that had been driving him insane for the past year and a half. What kind of male did that make him, he wondered? He was ready to bet all his wealth that it didn’t make him a good one.

Panting, Cassian searched Nesta’s face. She was breathing hard, her lips pink and swollen, her hair already starting to curl in the heat from the fire. Cassian had always thought her beautiful, but now she was breathtaking. It took Cassian a few seconds to realise why and when he did, his heart contracted to the point of pain: the light was back in her eyes, as if their kiss had woken her up.

Cassian’s resolve wavered. Maybe this was what she needed. Maybe—

As if sensing his inner conflict Nesta slid a cool hand up to his neck, levering herself up to press her lips to his. Her leg rode up over his thigh… over his hip and he moaned into her mouth, his will splintering as he felt the desire thrumming through her—between them. He tightened his grasp on her, resisting the urge to slide his hand round to her ass. To tug her closer.

With a last long, lingering kiss, Cassian made himself tear his lips from hers. “Nesta, stop,” he murmured against her mouth.

She stilled then, and as the implication behind his words dawned on her, that light started to fade in her eyes; dazzling blue dulling to an unreadable grey. Cassian pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead, to her nose, to her mouth. They were gentle and he hoped each one conveyed how hard this was for him, how he didn’t want to let her go, not really.

“We shouldn’t,” he rasped finally. His words sounded unconvincing even to his own ears, his voice husky and low despite everything. Sinful.

“Why?” Nesta breathed—her first word in hours coming out hoarse. Her fingers curled around his wrist where it still gripped her hip—holding him there.

“You know why. We can’t—”

“This makes me feel,” she whispered, her words breaking. And that was pleading in her voice. “You—”

“You’ll regret it tomorrow,” Cassian tried to explain, cutting her off because he had done this. He had fucked his way through enough females post-battle to know what she was doing. He understood the desperation for anything that would pierce through that pressing numbness that descended after bloodshed, but he also knew the disappointment that would chase it when she realised that pleasure didn’t last.

Cassian couldn’t sacrifice the progress they had made for a few moments of pleasure. Not now... not when they had come so far.

Nesta’s fingers slid down to his palm, the flat of her small hand pressing against his, encouraging him to slide up under her nightdress. He hissed—her thigh, her hip, her waist were sinfully smooth beneath his callouses. “I won’t regret it,” she promised. “You won’t either.”

Cassian studied her—the want in her eyes. What would happen if he denied her? Would he lose the progress they had made anyway? What if his rejection stacked that icy wall against him and she shut down the end of her bond again? He couldn’t bare the thought of it—of her barbed insults and the indifferent way she had treated him. He couldn’t do that again. Not ever. He had been slowly gaining on Nesta Archeron inch by inch, and he’d be damned if they started moving backwards.

It was a risk either way.

His greed won out.

Nesta’s mouth immediately yielded to him when he kissed her again, and this time it was her that moaned, the sound a strangled surprise in the back of her throat. Almost as if she hadn’t expected him to give in. Almost.

“Promise me,” Cassian murmured, his lips now on her neck as he propped himself over her. He allowed himself a moment to do what he’d fantasised about more times than he could count—graze his nose slowly from her collarbone to the nape of her neck—and relished in the way that she shuddered beneath him. “I don’t expect anything from you, this can just be... this. A one off. But promise you won’t freeze me out. That we won’t go back to before. That things won’t be cold between us.”

Pressing a kiss behind her ear, Nesta breathed another moan as he chased it all the way to the pulse point beneath her jaw. He sucked, feeling the flutter of life against his tongue—her body as it arched into him.

“I promise,” Nesta panted finally, her fingers curling around the strands of his damp hair. She tugged, telling him what she wanted, the words singing in the air between them; more, more, more.

As if in response, his blood surged, singing what it always sung—her name, over and over. The name he heard on the wind. Everywhere he went. Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

“Good,” Cassian rasped into Nesta’s skin, his lips imprinting on the shell of her ear. He waited until goosebumps littered her skin and then he pulled back to stare into those blue, blue eyes to make his own promise. He hoped it would undo her as much as it undid him. “I’m going to make you feel good,” he told her. “I’m going to make the numbness go away, ok sweetheart?”

Something moved behind the surface of Nesta’s irises as she shivered. And this time it wasn’t from the cold or from shock; it was hot anticipation and want and… her breath caught as his palm traversed along her now warm side, along the dip of her waist, hitching the material of her nightgown up, up, up.

Her fingers tightened in his hair as his movements turned light. As his fingers trailed from the underside of her breasts all the way down her side to the top of her thigh, coaxing her to shudder—for every nerve ending to sing.

Their kiss was searing and desperate when she pulled his face back down to hers. All around him, Cassian could smell the all-consuming scent of her. It was as intoxicating as any drug and he couldn’t help but cave, rolling his hips into hers, desperate for some sort of relief. He had never been this hard in his life, had never wanted anybody like this in the long time he had been alive. He needed to feel her skin against his, the sensation suddenly as vital as breathing—

“Off,” he growled into Nesta’s mouth, tugging her nightgown over her head and tossing it away. He flared his wings, lifting the heavy blankets so he could kick them down to their ankles. and—

Cassian swore at the sight before him. Nesta was beautiful. Where his skin was golden and marred with scars, hers was cream and unblemished—untouched—and her breasts… Cassian’s mouth turned dry and his insides twisted. They were far better than the inferior image he’d conjured in his mind, even as he pyrite glittered tauntingly between them, as if to say; I was here first.

With a soft snarl, Cassian reverently dragged his fingers over the smooth plains of Nesta’s stomach, watching her abdominal muscles tense, mesmerised.

“You’re perfect,” he told her with hoarse honesty, cupping the breast closest to the mattress as he took the other dusky nipple into his mouth. He sucked and teased it with the flat of his tongue, relishing in her sharp inhalation of breath… the way her fingers desperately wound their way through his hair again and again. “These are perfect. You have no idea how perfect you are, Nesta.”

A flicker of…something sparked down that bond. It was the first he had truly felt of Nesta in hours and Cassian tried to clamp down on that emotion, to dissect it, desperate to hold on to that sensation of… surprise. It was surprise, Cassian realised. As if she did not expect him to say that, let alone think it.

So, Cassian pushed back everything—his sincerity and awe and want for her and only her. And then he stared up at her with what he knew were dark eyes and scraped the peak of her nipple with his teeth.

A shuddered moan skittered the air around them and Cassian watched Nesta’s pupils dilate with a want that had his heart kicking in his chest. It was that sensation which sparked her into action, her hands feverish as they grappled at the material of his tunic, tugging at it until it was discarded on the floor beside the bed. Then her hands were on his chest, those lithe fingers feverish as they explored the hard lines of his stomach… the silvery scar that ran from his sternum to his lower abdomen.

Burying his head in her cleavage to stifle a groan, Cassian listened to the hammering of her heart as she followed the fine train of hair that started at his naval. In a desperate plea to distract himself from her touch—to distract her—Cassian cupped and squeezed her breasts, rolling his fingers over her nipples until her breath stuttered and her hands stilled just as they grazed the waistband of his pants.

Knowing that his restraint would melt if she wrapped her hand around him, Cassian began to press a path of open-mouthed kisses down her stomach. They were both still lying on their sides and he lifted his body, coaxing her leg against the mattress into a right angle just above his hip so he was cradled between them.

When he hoisted the leg slung over his waist up into a right angle and pressed it up into the blanket with a splayed palm on her knee, Nesta realised what he intended to do. He felt her waver and stiffen, her body going rigid against him, that bond constricting. So Cassian stilled too, taking the time to brush his lips over the right wing of her hip—to savour the taste of her skin against his tongue. To soothe away her hesitancy, somehow knowing that the vulnerability of him sliding down between her legs made her uncomfortable.

The gravity of it hit him then, that Nesta had never done this sober. And Cassian had no idea whether she had even experienced this before—whether she had found pleasure in it. Did not know whether the many one-night stands had bothered to have her clenching around them before they finished themselves of.

Pain sparked as fingernails bit into his shoulders in warning, but Cassian only waited patiently, kissing and soothing away that concern until she relaxed around him. Some animalistic, masochistic part of him hoped that she’d marked him there—that tomorrow he would look in the mirror and see the proof of what they had done. He’d wear those silver half moon circles proudly, more so than any Illyrian tattoo. If only Fae bodies didn’t heal so quickly…

Placing a final kiss to her lower abdomen, Cassian grazed a downward path with the tip of nose until he was hovering just over her centre. Until his head was resting on her thigh.

He couldn’t stop the groan that tumbled out of him at the scent of her. “Gods, sweetheart, I can smell how wet you are.”

The words stretched out between them until everything was pulled taut. Nesta’s hands had moved from his shoulders back to his hair. When he spoke, her fingers slid uncertainly through the damp strands without finding purchase. He didn’t need to look at her to know she was blushing. He knew her well enough by now.

But instead of swiping his tongue through her folds, Cassian reached up to run his mouth over the top-most part of the inside of her thigh. The movement was leisurely and unhurried despite the roaring of blood in Cassian’s ears. Because he had thought about this enough since having met Nesta to know how he wanted this to go. Nesta had spent a year fucking and chasing release and Cassian would not be another notch in her bedpost. By the time he was done, he wanted her squirming and moaning beneath him. He wanted her to anticipate his touch rather than merely using him to press the right buttons. He wanted her to be consumed with it; to feel that anticipation build until she was boneless against the mattress. He wanted to be the kindle for her fire and watch her burn and burn and burn.

He would not fuck her in a whirlwind of limbs and snarled, panting breath. She had done that. He would do something different—just for her.

So, Cassian made Nesta wait. With each brush of his lips he edged closer to her centre, moving from her thigh to her lower abdomen, his tongue swiping against creamy skin after every kiss until finally—finally—she trembled.

The movement travelled between them, vibrating down the thin tie that roped around his ribcage. A soft growl rumbled from the back of Cassian’s throat at the sensation, his grip tightening on her hip as he ghosted over her centre, his breath a phantom caress on her skin.

Yet, he still took the time to pause, letting a second stretch out into a moment—until Nesta’s fingers pressed into his scalp in anticipation. The touch was light but it spoke volumes, the movement more certain. Still Cassian made her wait, trying to calm the desire thrumming through his blood which wanted to spark him into movement—to devour her whole.

Those fingers twisted through his hair and that restraint dissolved as Cassian reached forward and swiped the flat of his tongue through her folds. The action was slow and premeditated, his touch gentle. For a moment, Nesta went preternaturally still, but then her breath stuttered as he did it again and then again, her hips tilting towards him of their own accord.

It was silent plea for more and a moan tumbled out of him, his chest rumbling as he moved closer, locking his lips around that bundle of nerves. Nesta’s breath caught again and again and Cassian catalogued it all—every movement, every intake of air—using her body language to dissect what she liked and didn’t like, lazily drinking her in until that bond widened and roared at each leisurely stroke.

It was this that Cassian had imagined over anything else. He had fantasised about going down on Nesta more than burying himself inside of her—more than her wrapping her lips around him, or the way her tongue would feel when it ran along the underside of his cock. So, Cassian took his time tasting every inch of her, and only when he had her panting did he pick up the pace; drawing circles and fluttering rhythms across her flesh, licking a path from top to bottom until she was writhing beneath him, edging her closer and closer to breaking point, letting that swell build inside of her until even he could feel it in the air around them—a tangible, living thing.

And down that tether Cassian felt the truth in every whimper... every moan. That alone nearly had him unravelling. Never before had he felt her so keenly, and Cassian had to fight the urge to drop his hold on her leg to wrap his hand around himself and relieve the pressure. He was rock hard, and even though his cock twitched with each burn of pleasure that flooded between them, he didn’t dare divert his focus from her. Didn’t dare make this about him when it needed to be about her.

Cassian had never been this turned on without having been touched before. He had never been this turned on period, and he didn’t trust himself not to cave if he so much as grazed the tent in his pants. And the knowledge that earlier she had moved to slide her hand beneath his waistband… just the thought of those cool, slim fingers wrapping around the length of him made his cock throb and his heart stutter.

Growling to rid himself of the image, Cassian sucked her folds into his mouth. The distraction didn't work. Nesta cried out and the sound had his hips thrusting, pleasure robbing him of any other sensation despite the fact that he was met with nothing but air. The sound was sharp and desperate and perfect, and he knew that he could do this all day; bringing her to completion over and over until she couldn’t take it anymore.

“You taste incredible,” Cassian groaned reverently, pulling away for the first time since he’d slipped down between her legs. His lips made a gentle smack against her wet flesh and Nesta whimpered, the sound a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment.

Another long lick followed by slow, wet kisses to her thighs—anywhere but her swollen clit.

He still wanted her to beg. He needed her to, and she wasn’t there yet.

Coaxing her onto her back, Cassian carefully hooked her legs over his arms so they avoided his wings. He had a feeling that if Nesta even so much as brushed them that something would snap inside of him; a beast unleashed.

Spreading her legs wider, Cassian reached up to cup her breasts, satisfaction thrumming through him as she arched into his touch.

Staring up at her with dark eyes, Cassian looked at her for the first time since he’d slipped between her legs. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her pink lips parted. He wished she’d open them; he wanted to be met with that depthless blue that latched onto his soul and made it hard to breathe.

“Fuck Nesta,” he groaned, his voice gravelly as he gathered her wetness on his tongue, drawing broad circles before sucking the bud into his mouth. “I could do this all day just to hear you moan.”

Nesta whimpered at the words, the sound wild and untamed against his ears, but her eyes remained squeezed shut. Gently, he dragged his fingers through her wet folds, purposefully running them over the sides of her clit, relishing in the way that her hips jerked at the touch. At the way that bond continued to widen, light spilling into the inky dark.

A wave of fresh pleasure coursed through him.

“That’s it,” Cassian murmured huskily, slipping a finger inside of her. He bit back a groan—wishing it was his cock easing into her. “I want you to come for me, sweetheart.”

Nesta mewled as he brought his mouth back to her. Curling a finger inside of her, Cassian focussed his attention on drawing wide circles with his mouth, coaxing strangled throaty moans as his finger and tongue worked in tandem.

Only when Nesta’s cries were a steady beat and her fingers were yanking at his hair, did he add another finger.

“Oh,” Nesta whimpered, her head rising from the pillows as he hooked his fingers inside of her at the same time that he drew her folds into his mouth. As he rolled her nipple between his fingers with his spare hand and dared another look up at her.

He groaned as those blue, blue eyes connected with his. They were glassy and swimming in the faelight, utterly mesmerising as her face contorted with pleasure. Nesta had never looked at him like that before; so open and vulnerable and soft.

It only lasted a moment and then Nesta’s head had dropped back onto the pillow in concession of the pleasure coursing through her—through him. It urged him to work faster, to continue his attention on that bundle of nerves that was hurtling her to release. As he splayed his palm on her flat stomach and relished the way it spasmed beneath his touch with every swipe and lick and suck.

When she rocked against him, Cassian’s moan was so coarse that Nesta clutched at his head with a near death grip. She held him tightly as the sound vibrated through her, but then Cassian was scraping his teeth lightly over her clit before sucking it into his mouth and Nesta cried out. Her legs attempted to yank out of his grasp to clamp around his head with a strength Cassian should have predicted for, but he managed to pin her down, holding her open.

“Cassian,” Nesta gasped—finally, finally saying his name out loud—her voice breaking and desperate as she tried to push her hips towards his mouth, begging. She was begging him now. “Cassian.”

“Yes,’ he growled, sensing how close she was. “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

He felt her walls grip around his fingers like a vice. Felt something peak inside of her—

And then Cassian slowed everything down. His fingers slid in and out of her, pushing in to the hilt in long, drawn out strokes as his tongue circled her—as that preternatural stillness seized her again. Cassian heard the break in her moans as that cresting pleasure suspended above them, ready to crash down. Felt the pleasure course through him so fiercely that for a moment he mistook it for his own—

The sudden cry that unleashed itself on the room was a sound that Cassian had never dreamed would come from Nesta’s mouth. He stroked her steadily through the waves of pleasure as she shattered against his tongue, convulsing beneath him again and again until her whimpers gave way to shuddering gasps. Until she shuddered from the intensity of it, her hands pushing his head away. Cassian allowed her limp and panting body to melt into the mattress as he pressed kisses to the bare skin of her thighs. Her fingers were back in his hair again, running through the strands that had dried into curls before she tugged gently, urging him upwards.

Swiping at his wet mouth, Cassian crawled back up beside her, pulling the blankets with him.

To his satisfaction, Nesta had thrown an arm across her flushed face and her chest was heaving, as if she were at loss for air. She didn’t resist when he moved her arm to the pillow, threading his fingers through hers.

She moaned softly against his lips as he kissed her. The sound was content—another noise he’d never heard from her before—and the knowledge that he had caused her to feel that way left him dizzy. Surprise speared through him as her hand curved around the back of his neck, keeping him there, deepening the kiss as she tasted herself on his tongue.

And down that bond, beyond the sated satisfaction and pleasure was amusement, as if she sensed his surprise and delighted in it.

“Ok?” he asked hoarsely when he finally pulled away. He rolled to the side, taking her with him, his hand splayed on the underside of her thigh, his wing thrown over her body like a blanket.

Nesta’s eyes were glazed as she hummed in reply, and a knowing smirk pulled at her lips as she skimmed her free hand down his bare chest to his stomach and his muscled twitched under her touch.

Locking her leg firmly around his hips, Nesta pulled him flush against her. He snarled softly against her neck when she ground into his erection. His blood was boiling again, a heat ignited in his very core, and it was an entire feat of its own that he managed to tear himself away from her, catching her hand just as those fingers dipped to slip between the hem of his pants.

He watched Nesta frown, and the expression on her face was so unchecked that something twisted inside him.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted more...

“I said I’d make you feel good,” he rasped in explanation, bringing her hand to his lips so he could press his mouth to her knuckles

When he was done, he gently ran a hand over her hair. “Sleep, Nesta. Your body needs to rest.”

“What? No,” Nesta protested, that defiance he had missed for the last few hours firing across her expression.

But he just pulled her closer to him, and unable to help himself—knowing that he might not get another chance—he kissed her again. It was slow and tender, his fingers pushing back her damp hair from her face. It was a kiss to soothe rather than to arouse, even as his cock throbbed painfully against his stomach. His thumb brushed an arc across the glowing skin of her cheek, savouring the ability to touch her like this; without fear of her pushing him away, or worse, punching him in the gut.

“Sleep,” he urged again, wrapping his wing tighter around her—cocooning them. He felt Nesta’s body start to relax into the mattress, felt the blanket of sleep settle over her in that post-climactic haze. He pressed his mouth to her forehead—now warm beneath his lips, as if he had chased away the cold. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Tags: @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @iwastoowildinthe70s @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @hatemecozuaintme @vidalinav

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Who’s in for more Nessian Pride and Prejudice? This is now going to be a multichapter fic so I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do! This is also almost 4K (3.997 words to be more specific lmao), the most I’ve ever written, so you can tell how obsessed I’m with P&P.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake , part one of this fic.

Once again, huge shoutout to the gc for always being so encouraging. I love y’all 🥺 and special thanks for @perseusannabeth for brainstorming this fic with me 💜

Hooked on you

“The baskets?”

“Yes, my Lord”

“And the refreshments?”

“Yes, they are cool and ready to be served”

“And the table was set in case the ladies prefer its comfort to sitting in the picnic towel?”

“The fluffiest and silkiest one has been chosen and is in place, along with the table, chairs and parasol”

“And what about—”

“My Lord,” Mrs.Potts firmly said, interrupting Cassian’s nervous rambling “Everything has been double checked and ready since my lord inquired about it during breakfast”

Cassian exhaled, running his hands through his hair. Nesta and her companions were to arrive at any minute now, and he had to make sure everything was perfect. She deserved nothing but perfection, and Cauldron blast him if he ended up offending her and her friends in any way.

“Forgive me Mrs.Potts,” he said with small smile “My nerves are getting the best of me”

“You have nothing to worry about my Lord, the staff and I will not disappoint” the elderly head maid assured him. All of Pemberley’ staff had noticed how much their master’s encounter with Lady Archeron had raised his spirits, and they had made their life purpose to make sure his smile never disappeared.

Cassian had to be one of the kindest masters Mrs.Potts had ever served, and most of the staff agreed with her. He always made sure to make all of them comfortable and inquire about how their family was faring, if they were in need of any assistance. He showed a care towards his personnel that went beyond the common care of a master towards his servants, but rarely appeared to be truly happy, wearing a mask that concealed a deep sadness and loneliness within himself.

They had taken upon themselves to organise the most elaborate picnic in the history of Pemberley, in hopes their lord’ smile wavered no more.

And that a certain lady decided to accept his heart.

“The guests have arrived, sir” Cogsworth, Pemberley’s major-domo and head of the household staff, announced “They are waiting in the parlor”

“Thank you, Cogsworth. I shall be with them in a minute”

The butler gave a small nod and left them, going back to tend to the guests.

“Mrs.Potts,” Cassian said, turning in his head maid’s direction “How do I look?”

“Quite dashing, sir, if I may say so” she replied with a motherly smile.

“You may. And the compliment is most welcome” he replied, a boyish grin on his face.

Cassian had taken the utmost care getting dressed that morning. His hair alone had taken him two hours to achieve its natural messy and ruffled appearance, he wore one of his best fitted clothes, and his shoes were so polished he could see his reflection on them.

He could not allow himself to ruin this second chance fate had given him. Even if Nesta had not accepted his heart, he would do anything and everything to be of assistance to her and make sure she had the most enjoyable time in Pemberley.

Cassian quickly walked to the parlor, possible dialogues with Nesta going over his head, from polite greetings to teasings and inquires about her sisters and trip.

But it all went flying from his head the moment he laid his eyes on her.

Nesta Archeron possessed a beauty that took Cassian’s breath each time he saw her, and her current attire did little to help him breath.

She wore a light blue one piece gown, but what had him mesmerised was its off shoulder design, allowing him a clear view of her clavicule and showing a little bit more of skin than the current fashion allowed. White flower shaped buttons added a nice touch to the design, and her elbow length gloves acted as the perfect element to balance the daring dress.

“My Lady,” Cassian greeted, boldly reaching for her hand to drop a chaste kiss on it, wishing those stupid gloves were not in the way “I hope you did not wait for too long?”

“Not at all, sir” Nesta answered, a slight blush in her cheeks “May I introduce you to Miss Gwyneth Berdara, Miss Emerie Carynthian and Sir Balthazar Oristian?”

Cassian looked at both ladies, greeting them as he had with Nesta.

“It is an honour to finally meet the most sought singer in all England” he said, raising the opera singer’s hand to kiss it too, her pale constitution allowing him to notice how much she blushed.

He had thought it better to greet all ladies in the same manner, for it would be impolite and could arise assumptions of his feelings towards Nesta.

Miss Gwyneth Berdara was a petite woman, but Cassian knew that once she sang one could not help but be drawn to her, who shined the most brightly on the stage. Her copper chestnut hair was free, pinned back from her face by a dark blue ribbon, allowing a perfect view of her teal coloured eyes and freckled face. He could not help but wish that Nesta had followed her friend’s example and let her hair down too, which was fashioned in a coronet braid.

Cassian had not been able to stop thinking of Nesta with her hair unbound, that look of surprise on her face in the back of his mind.

He was always thinking of that look on her face.

Miss Berdara held a dark green parasol — no doubt to protect her fair skin from the sunlight —  and a matching dress in similar fashion to Nesta’s, although hers had long sleeves.

“And you must be the famous business woman who has been driving society mad with your beautiful designs” he eyed the lady in question and tried to hide his surprise as he greeted her.

Because Miss Emerie Carynthian was wearing high waisted black pants and a long sleeved white shirt with ruffled laces, her curly brown hair in a high updo.

She for sure was the one responsible for Gwyn’s and Nesta’s daring attire.

“How flattering, sir. At least one gentleman here knows how to talk to ladies” Emerie said, glancing at their only male companion with a smirk.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir” Balthazar ignored Emerie, quite used to his business partner’s teasing “I heard incredible stories about your feats in the War. Shame I was placed in a squadron so far away from your or else I could have seen you in action.”

“You participated in the Battle of Meinir Pass?” Cassian asked, surprised, shaking the other man’s hand in greeting.

“Aye sir, third squadron. After the War I invested some money in business, being fortunate to make a big deal. The unfortunate side being that said deal was with Miss Emerie here”

Cassian laughed. They were a curious group, with only Nesta actually having a place in high society, but still befriending those of different status. It was not something usual, and he felt even more wonder towards her.

“Shall we move on? There are refreshments and we were graced with wonderful weather.” escorting his guests outside, Cassian asked Balthazar about his time in the army, all the while keeping an eye on Nesta, that damn dress threatening to undo his sanity before lunch time.

~•~

Fishing was supposed to be a nice activity. Calming. Relaxing.

Harmless.

Except nothing was truly harmless if Nesta Archeron was involved, because Cassian could not care less about catching fish.

Emerie and Gwyn — she had insisted to be called Gwyn instead of Gwyneth, “We are friends now, you cannot call me Gwyneth, it is too serious” — had gotten bored of fishing after twenty minutes and were now eating strawberries in the blanket laid near the lake. Cassian was really glad they had liked the blanket and ditched the table.

It meant they were comfortable around him.

It meant that he was one more step away from ruining his plan to make today perfect.

Balthazar had promptly prepared his things and in no time had caught three fishes. Emerie had bet he could not catch ten until they left for their inn, so now he was making his goal to catch not ten but fifteen.

Cassian could only wonder how their partnership was if this is how they usually behaved around each other.

Nesta, on the other hand, had been busy reading a book, completely lost in her world.

Until Gwyn and Emerie thought it would be a good idea to splash water at her.

Cassian thought she was going to be angry to have her clothes wet — or to risk getting her book damaged — but he was taken by surprise when Nesta threw her head back and laughed, cheeks flushed and the sun shining in her hair.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, and he was so mesmerized by it that he almost hooked his finger instead of the fishing bait.

Cassian lost all interest in fishing once they started splashing water at themselves, watching them play with a small smile on his face, no doubt appearing to be a fool in love.

Balthazar, however, was not so happy.

“This must be a plan from Emerie to ruin my fishing” he muttered a little annoyed “I was about to catch a big one but they scared it away”

“They will get tired soon, my friend” Cassian tried to assure him “It is quite hot today to be moving around, even if they are splashing water at each other”

The sun was indeed high in the sky, and Cassian could not help but wonder how the ladies managed to appear so composed and fresh despite the many layers they wore. He and Balthazar had long ditched their coats to stay only in their shirts, Cassian going as far as rolling his sleeves.

He had failed to notice how Nesta had been eyeing him as he rolled his sleeves, her eyes tracing every new piece of tanned skin being exposed.

“It must be the sun” she thought to herself as she felt her mouth getting dry looking at Cassian’s bare forearms “Surely I am not attracted to him. I am just thirsty because of the weather.”

Nesta had been feeling strangely anxious since they had arrived at Pemberley, her heart threatening to burst out of her chest when Cassian kissed her hand. Oh, how she had momentarily wished she was as bold as Emerie and Gwyn to not bother with gloves — Nesta had been offered by Emerie to wear one of her newly designed pants, which she politely declined, stating that the off shoulder gown was as daring as she would allow herself to be — so she could finally know how Cassian’s lips would feel against her bare skin.

She was not proud to have thought such an improper thing, and even more ashamed of the ugly feeling in her heart when Cassian greeted her friends in the same manner.

How delusioned she had been to think he was showing her some preference.

That his feelings had stayed the same since her sister’s ball.

Cassian was a gentleman, and as such was only showing proper courtesy by greeting them all in the most dignified manner.

“Oh, it is so hot” Gwyn complained, their water game interrupted to get some refreshments “Even your light designed gowns cannot keep it away, Emerie”

“If only we could go for a dive” Emerie sighed, eyeing the lake.

“It would not be proper” Nesta mumbled, still distracted as she watched Cassian.

“Proper” Emerie snorted, taking off her shoes and rolling her pants until her ankles “I almost regret wearing those pants, if only they did not look so good on me”

“Emerie what are you doing, for the Mother!” Nesta exclaimed, watching as her friend dipped her feet in the cold water.

“I am refreshing myself dear, what does it look like?” she waved her hand in dismissal. “Balthazar could not care less about seeing some skin, he is too busy trying to win our bet. Whereas Cassian is too polite to stare. Besides, I dare say he would not care either, as he seems to be used to female attention.”

Nesta found herself with nothing to say in face of Emerie’s remarks, except her annoyance that Cassian would have ladies falling left and right at his feet.

That strangely bothered her.

“Pardon me then, I will agree with Emerie on this” Gwyn declared, dipping her own feet in the lake and sighing in delight “Join us Nesta, please. You must be feeling quite hot”

“Oh well, stop rushing me” Nesta replied, faking annoyance. She promptly dumped her feet in the water, even going as far as taking off her gloves and unbuttoning the first two buttons of her dress, letting the fresh air cool her warm skin “There, all relaxed and improper.”

“Bravo!” Emerie exclaimed, and the three of them laughed loudly.

Nesta had to agree that the cold water was indeed very refreshing, soon not even caring about Cassian or Balthazar’s presence. It was good to let off some steam and forget proper etiquette for a moment. She imagined her mother rolling in her grave in ultrage at her eldest daughter's attitude, which filled her with smug satisfaction.

A fish came up to swim around Nesta’s feet, and she giggled at the sensation.

“Do not move” Balthazar said, eyeing the fish “I have my sights on this little fella”

“Balthazar! Let it go! It’s not bothering me” she exclaimed, feeling protective over her new aquatic friend.

“But Nesta, I have caught twelve fish already. If you let me— “

“I do not allow you to dare and hurt it. You have more than enough time to attempt and win yours and Emerie’s bet” Nesta declared, leaving no room for argument.

Balthazar cursed quietly, but he knew better than to try to go against Nesta. Even if it was over a small thing as a fish.

Nesta asked Gywn about her mysterious sponsor, which had made it possible to fulfill her dream of singing in the most renowned opera houses in England. Gwyn informed she had yet to meet her generous patron, but that recently she had been receiving flowers every new performance.

“You think they are from your patron?” Nesta inquired “Or from any of your mass of admirers?”

Gwyn blushed at her friend’s teasing. Her dressing room was usually crowded with gifts after her performances, be it with expensive jewelry, chocolates, dresses and even love letters.

“I do not know. All I have as a clue are the lovely ribbons used to tie the flowers with” she indicated the one currently tying her hair.

They kept talking about who possibly could be her sponsor, lost in their gossip.

If they had paid attention, both ladies would have spotted Cassian — a small blush that could pass as a result from the hot weather adorning his face — gazing at Nesta. 

More specifically, at her ankles.

His hands were tightly gripping the fishing rod, his eyes moving from her ankles to her bare arms to the two open buttons of her dress.

Cauldron, the places Nesta Archeron made his thoughts wander to.

He quickly looked back at the lake, shaking his head to try and think of other things, glad they were too busy to notice his blatantly staring.

Only that Emerie had seen him and the way he looked at one of her dearest friends. She tucked that information for later, both to tease Nesta about it and to think of more scandalous clothing to make her wear.

She knew a look of love when she saw one, and she was sure Cassian held it.

Nesta, on the other hand, would need a little push to realise her feelings.

And to Emerie’s joy, it appeared that until the end of the day she would have plenty of teasing material.

Both Cassian and Balthar took a break from fishing to have lunch with the ladies — although the latter kept eyeing his fishing rod while he ate, no doubt wanting to get back as soon as possible. Mrs.Potts and the rest of the help had really outdone themselves, there was enough food to feed at least twenty people.

“This has to be the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten” Nesta declared, already in her second slice “Please deliver my compliments to the cook”

“I am sure Chef Ramsay will be most pleased to hear that” Cassian said, knowing his chef would most probably scream something along the lines of ‘Of course she liked my food, I am the one who cooked it!’ but be secretly happy with the compliment.

“Elain will be sad to hear that” Gwyn teased “To think her cooking talents are viewed in such poor manners in your eyes….”

“Hush now. My sister’s cooking is exceptional, but even her would have to agree with me on this”

“You certainly enjoy it, I have never seen you so unlady like” Emerie said laughing, indicating the chocolate sauce that had gotten on her fingers.

Proving that she could be even more unlady like — by that time her mother would be almost resurrecting to hit Nesta with a whip for her horrid attitude — and shock her friends even more, Nesta licked her fingers instead of using a napkin, promptly cleaning her hand. That action brought fake gasps from her friends, who feigned horror at her action. Even Balthazar got in the play, saying no man would now dare to court her after such behaviour.

Little did he know that Cassian was thinking of proposing to Nesta again. He had tracked each lick, each portion of the chocolate sauce being eaten, his heart beating faster and faster, feeling his body warming and his mind wandering to unspeakable places not for the first time in the day.

“Get a grip Cassian” he thought to himself, drinking some lemonade in hopes of calming down.

Nesta chose the exact moment to glance at him, wanting to see his reaction at her attitude.

Not that she was anxious he would find her repulsive or unworthy of having been invited to this outing.

Rather, what she saw was Cassian drinking lemonade, the sun making his dark hair shine like obsidian, her mouth suddenly dry as she watched him swallow.

“What sorcery is this? Why do I feel that way even with the smallest things he does?” Nesta asked herself. feeling her cheeks getting warmer and looking down at her empty plate.

She made her best to try and avoid looking at him again, jumping at the opportunity to make flower crowns with Gwyn while Emerie sketched some news designs in a small notebook she carried everywhere.

Soon she was lost in the calming motion of twisting and knotting the flowers together, all thoughts of Cassian momentary forgotten.

It was Emerie’s voice saying her name that brought her back to reality.

“I think Nesta may have something”

“What?” she asked, looking up to find both Cassian and her friend looking at her.

“I was wondering if any of you would have anything I could tie my hair with” he brushed his hair back, a few curly locks falling in front of his eyes “I forgot to bring my usual leather strap with me”

“I have a ribbon” Nesta said, fumbling in her purse for the spare she always carried.

Handing him the red ribbon, her heart skipped a beat when their hands touched. She could swear his touch lingered for longer than necessary.

She watched as he gathered his hair in a bun, failing again and again at tying it with the red piece of silk.

“Is the General Commander losing against a mere hair accessory?” Nesta could not help but tease.

“This is quite different from what I am used to” he sighed in defeat “I’m withdrawing from this fight. It seems I will have to bear with the sun for a little longer”

“I could tie it for you” she blurted out before she could hold her tongue back.

Cassian only blinked at her.

“I mean, if Your Grace allows and is not bothered by me touching your hair or—”

“I would be most honoured” he cut her nervous rambling, moving to sit in front of her.

"Pardon me then” Nesta breathless said, taking his hair on her hands.

His hair was much softer than she had imagined and she dared to wonder if had she accepted his proposal, Cassian would have let her brush his hair.

If her making those small braids to make it easier to tie his rebel locks would have been a frequent occurrence.

“Oh, how lovely Nesta!” Gwyn exclaimed and placed one flower crown on Cassian’s head “There! Now he’s perfect!”

“The General Commander of the British Armies wearing a flower crown and with braids on his hair! Ha! No one would believe me if I told them!” Balthazar exclaimed, having grown tired of fishing after his eighteenth catch.

Cassian’s land really was blessed with an abundance of fish.

“What are you laughing for? I also made one for you!” Gwyn said, dumping one crown with pink flowers in Balthazar’s head, making Emerie roar with laughter.

If Cassian appeared to be bothered, he did not let it show, and Nesta could not help but think he looked adorable, nothing like the famous Lord of Bloodshed, who had killed many enemies of the Crown in battle.

“Your friends are rather charming, my Lady” Cassian pointed out, watching Emerie and Balthazar bickering while Gwyn laughed at them.

“I hope we are not causing Your Grace much trouble”

“Not at all” he assured her “This is the most fun I have had in a long time”

Nesta hoped he was saying the truth and not being excessively polite.

The afternoon went on, the group deciding to call it a day and gathering their things. Nesta stayed a little behind the group, too busy trying to button her dress again to keep up with them.

“Those beautiful unpractical buttons” she muttered angrily, failing to put the flower shaped buttons in their place.

“Lady Nesta, is something the matter?”

Nesta almost let out a scream when she saw that Cassian had not left.

“I was just— “ her words died in her throat when Cassian got closer, his hands hovering over her dress.

“May I?” he inquired softly.

Nesta could only nod and pray to the Mother he could not feel her heart beating faster than racing horses. Up close and with his hair tied back neatly —  the small braids suited him more than she would have liked to admit —  she could pinpoint every scar he had, from the one on his left eyebrow to the small cut near his mouth.

Her fingers itched to trace them.

To kiss them.

To kiss him.

“There. All proper now” Cassian said, his voice a little hoarse.

“Thank you, sir” Nesta managed to say despite wanting to scream and melt inside.

They walked silently back to the main state, a comfortable silence between them.

Cassian desperately wanted to hold her hand, using once again the excuse of helping her get on the carriage to do just that.

“Shall you pay Pemberley a visit tomorrow?” he hopefully asked “I could show you the rest of the state”

“I shall be waiting for your call, sir” Nesta replied.

“And please accept this,” she added in a rushed tone, dropping a small object on his hand “ it is not much but I would like to show my gratitude for today.”

“I am most thankful” Cassian said, the carriage leaving before he could say anything else.

Looking at his hand, he realised he held a delicate daisy chain, no wonder made by Nesta while she and Gywn were making the flower crowns.

“I will treasure this forever” he said looking at the carriage turning smaller and smaller as it got away from Pemberley.

Tags: @sayosdreams​ @thewayshedreamed​ @sjm-things​ @perseusannabeth​ @arinbelle​ @caotica-e-quieta​ @vidalinav​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @duskandstarlight​ @greerlunna​ @thegoddessaltenia​ @dayanna-hatter​ @verypaleninja​ @awesomelena555​ @courtofjurdan​ @valkyriewarriors​ @moe8​ @illyrianwitchling13​ @silvernesta​ @bri-loves-sunflowers​ @queenestarcheron​ @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan​ @rainbowcheetah512​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @letstakethedawn​ @starlightorstarfire​ @city-of-fae​ @thalia-2-rose​ @nestaarcher0n​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @julemmaes​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @alinaleksanders​ @lysandra-tiara9​ @inardour​ @hikari274​ @fatimafares123​ @angelina-figjam​ @castielspelvis​ @illyrianundercover​ @firebirdofscythia

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

[rhysismydaddy]

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 5 (Nessian)

Damnation Series

Parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 

____________________________________________________________

~Cassian~

A week later, I’m exceptionally proud to say I haven’t given in yet. No matter how much I want to.

Tensions the past seven days have been... high, to say the least.

Both of us are doing our absolute best to drive the other insane.

She’s doing it so I either sign the deed and give in or turn to someone else, both which would give her Sera back.

I’m doing it because if I have to suffer, she can bet her pretty ass she does, too.

Ironically, tonight’s our engagement party. A celebration of our undying love and an announcement to the world the Russians and Italians of New York should no longer hate and murder each other.  

They’re allowed to be sexually frustrated as hell, but no, they can’t kill each other.

I’m waiting for the little minx who’s spent the week making me regret ever even asking for the club, drinking bourbon so I’m too drunk to even be tempted by her--which is likely enough to kill me--when she finally deigns to grace me with her presence.

I take one look at her, starting at the high blonde ponytail that would wrap around my fist at least twice and ending at the very high, very red shoes I immediately want by my shoulders.

“Fuck.”

Obviously the reaction she was looking for, she smiles.

Her dress is a cream color thing that clings to her curves and is short enough to showcase her long legs. It’s somehow classy, while low enough to draw my eyes to her breasts as she comes down the stairs towards me.

Nesta stops right before me, close enough I smell the jasmine and vanilla of her skin, and looks at me through her lashes.

I turn my gaze to the ceiling, vowing to keep it there until I trust myself to not do something stupid like tell her she’s the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.

“I’m so fucked,” I mutter hopelessly.

If possible, she comes closer, sliding all the interesting, female parts of her against me. “You would be if you just gave me back my shit.”

I glare down at her. “I don’t like to lose.”

“Would you really be losing?”

I keep my mouth shut, because the answer to that question is a big fat no. God, she’s good.

“Tell me again why you refuse to put us out of our misery?” I ask in return, trying to remind myself who the fuck I am.

Even though I wonder if it is our misery. I can’t read her, can’t tell if this is affecting her like it is me.

She gives me a cold look. “What do you see happening after we get married, exactly? You think you’ll work a few hours at the club I spent three years building from the ground up, come home and eat a home cooked meal, then fuck your complacent little wife however you want?”

I have no idea what to say, because when she puts it like that, I sound like the biggest douche in the world.

Nesta sees the hesitation in my eyes and rolls hers. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I allow you to disrespect me like that, stronzo.”

“I respect you,” I say immediately, meaning the words.

“Just not enough to value my career.”

“Nesta-”

“Deal with it. If you somehow keep the board from voting you out in the next two weeks and manage to not sleep with me--which is unlikely, considering the way you look at me--the club will be yours.” She takes a step back, steeling her spin. “But I will not.”

I’m conflicted as hell, torn between wondering if she’s just playing me or being sincere.

Apparently done with the verbal smackdown, Nesta spins towards the door.

Hand on the handle, she turns back around and cocks her head. And then she answers the questions I hadn’t realized I’d been too scared to ask.

“No and yes.”

My brows raise. “What?”

“No, it hasn’t all been just me trying to mess with you. Yes, I want you as much as you want me. But I respect myself too much to allow someone who blazes into my life and steals something from me without a care or even a real negotiation to have my body, too.”

She walks out the door, leaving me standing in the living room stunned.

I eventually follower her down to the garage and we leave for the party Rhys is hosting for us downtown. But even though I go through the motions once we arrive, my mind is on the woman next to me the entire night.

I hate admitting it, but she’s right.

I took something that belonged to her, didn’t even question talking to her first, then acted like she was in the wrong for doing whatever she could to get it back.

I’ve said I like how strong and independent she is, but I tried to take that independence and turn her into something else. I bulldozed my way into her life, then acted like I was the one inconvenienced by it.

And seriously, why am I even fighting for this place? Yeah, I like it and think it’s unique, but the place is above board. Which to me translates as boring.

The past two weeks, I’ve had to go to investment meetings, deal with sending out the nightly invitations for entrance, and plan events for upcoming holidays. Things I never do with my other properties.

I hate managing things--I hire people to do that kind of thing for me. But I know I can’t hire someone, because who the hell besides my fiancé would do the job right?

No one.

I realize that on the drive home, and it gets me thinking. By the time we’re inside the apartment, I’m already mentally finalizing the details.

I tell her I have to take care of something, go to my office, and close the door.

Then I pull up the marriage contract, along with the deed to Sera, and hit print.

~Nesta~

A week after our engagement party, I realized I’ve started to lose hope.

Cassian’s managed to wrangle or bribe or threaten the board into not voting him out, and the employees have stopped calling me to ask when I’m coming back. He hasn’t touched me or tried to seduce me in six days--probably a record for him--and I start to feel like I’ve lost.

My club will be his in a week, and after we’re married, only him signing the deed over will get it back. Something that will never happen, considering it’d be a serious hit to his pride to do something as weak as give me what’s rightfully mine.

My club will be his, but like I said, I won’t.

Which honestly is just as upsetting.

Even though he’s a stubborn, boneheaded stronzo with a big enough ego for us both, it’s hard for me to overlook the moments of the past three weeks that haven’t revolved around Sera.

Little moments that have made it harder for me to pull away from him.

He’s made me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met, whether with his foul sense of humor or stories about his violent, wild childhood. He stopped leaving the toilet seat up when I pointed it out. He hasn’t said a word about me ordering take-out all the time or working in bed while he tries to sleep.

He even dealt with one of Alexei’s buyers for me when they tried to renegotiate the price originally agreed upon.

And he hasn’t really pressed the celibacy thing. Sure, he’s complained about it enough for me to want to smack him, but I don’t know any other Made Men, Russian or Italian, that would’ve respected my wish after how much I’ve teased him.

If he would just-

I cut that train of thought off and focus on the report in front of me, because at this point, it’s obvious he won’t.

I sip my wine, which is starting to grow on me, and look over shipment records from one of Alexei’s yards, flagging crates that need to be smuggled instead of brought in through the main channels. Repressing a groan at the thought, I realize I’ll have to go down one night this week and make sure they arrive without problem.

I take another long pull from my glass.

“Drinking to forget?” Cassian asks, leaning in the doorway of the bedroom and looking me over.

I shrug, not much in the mood for banter.

“I got you something.”

Sighing, I reply, “Yeah, me too. It’s on the nightstand.”

His brow furrows as he walks over and picks up the ring box, opening it to look at the titanium band inside.

Just another symbol of our lifelong, happy, sexless marriage.

He puts the ring back in the box and extends a hand. “It isn’t a ring.”

“What is it?”

“Get your ass out of bed and find out.”

I would, except I don’t want to. And I don’t really want whatever stupid, materialistic thing he’s bought me-

He closes my laptop and pulls the cover back, ducking when I swing a fist towards his head. “Violent little wolf,” he teases.

“Stop calling me that,” I demand, trying in vain to keep the blanket on me so he can’t tell I’m not wearing anything underneath the t-shirt I stole from him.

He pauses, sighs, and scoops me up, blanket and all. “I love watching you fight how much you love me calling you that.”

“I don’t have to fight anything except he overwhelming urge to smack you.”

Cassian just huffs, walking us out of the room, through the living room, and into his office. Then he puts me down, smacks my butt to get me moving, and grunts when I elbow him in the ribs.

“Maybe this will fix your bad mood,” he mutters, flipping the light switch on and bathing the office in golden light.

I take an involuntary step forward, eyebrows going high on my forehead.

I’ve only been in here once before, just long enough to notice the obnoxiously big desk and wall of windows behind it. I’d taken in the black leather couch and wing-backed chairs, determined it was a typical male office for a typical male, and vowed to work somewhere else.

But that was a while ago, and it’s obvious he’s done some home improvement.

There are decidedly now two desks in the corners near the windows, angled in to the middle of the room where two cream-colored leather chairs sit. The desks are identical, mahogany and classic without being ostentatious.

A rug covers the hardwood floors, a deep maroon color that matches small details throughout the room.

It’s beautiful.

Cassian leads me with his hands on my shoulders to one of the desks, and I let him guide me around to the chair and push me down in the soft leather.

I look up to ask him what this is about, but he jerks his chin to the desk where to two papers lie.

One is the deed to Sera.

A rush of surprise goes through me as I see he’s transferred the building back over to me, even going so far as to deem the process irreversible. It’s signed and dated a week ago, the night of our engagement party.

My eyes are shiny as I look at the other document and read through it.

“What is this?”

“A partnership, of sorts,” Cassian explains, leaning a hip on the- my desk like he did in his Capo’s office. “You’re now a partner at my businesses, and if you sign, I’ll be yours.”

My eyes find his, and I see that he’s serious but still choke out, “What?”

He smiles and shrugs, like signing over half of your life’s work is easy. “You had me pegged when you first saw me and figured out I’m a fighter. I hate everything about running a business except the in-person negotiating and knitty gritty shit. It’s boring to me, and while I can do it, I’m not nearly as good at it as you are.”

“Cassian-”

“So run them both. I’ll do the day to day shit I know you hate, and you’ll do the rest.”

I can’t hardly process what he’s saying.

“What if we disagree?” It’s a valid question, considering we’ve basically been fighting the entire time we’ve been engaged.

“We talk about it and try to figure it out. And if we can’t, the original owner has the final call and veto power in all situations.” His eyes say he knows how important it is to me as he says, “You’ll still be in control of your property, and I’ll still be in control of mine.”

I don’t know why I’m still asking questions, because it sounds great, but there’s one more thing I want to know.

“Why?”

He sighs, sitting on the desk fully and looking down at me with open, honest eyes. “Because I’m tired of doing this shit alone. I’m tired of going to work and dealing with every single thing and then coming home and having no one who understands.”

He looks out the window, shoulders tight. “I thought you’d be like my friends’ wives, which is why I was such an ass. I thought you’d be just another thing for me to take care of, and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realize you could be my partner, not just my wife.”

His eyes are back on mine, the heat in them making my heart pound. “I’m sorry, Nesta. I’m sorry I stole Sera in the first place, then refused to hear you out and give it back. I have a tendency to be a little stubborn.”

My lips twitch, and his eyes soften at the sight.

“But what you said about respecting yourself stuck. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t respect you, because I do. You’re smarter than me, cool when I’m rash, and have the mind for business I never have.” He smiles softly. “I know you’re just as alone as me, and just as tired of it. So say yes.”

I feel a smile on my face as I get to my feet, moving to stand between his thighs. “Are you just doing this so I’ll sleep with you?”

He sighs, dropping his head in shame to rest against my chest. “You caught me.”

My arms wrap around his shoulders, his going around my waist, and I use the opportunity to play in his hair. It’s so soft and curly, and he makes a content sound as I run my hands through it.

“Are you saying yes, little wolf?” he murmurs against my collarbone, dropping his head to rub his face across my breasts.

I roll and tug his hair to keep the randy bastard away. “Yes, pervert, I’m saying yes.”

Cassian smiles a big, goofy smile so ridiculously charming I lean in and kiss him.

His hands lock at my waist, resting on the curve of my back, and for a moment, he just lets me kiss him.

It isn’t our first kiss by any means, but it’s the first one where neither of us have ulterior motives, so I take my time.

I kiss his top lip, his bottom lip. Find I like them both equally.

My hands work across his shoulders, the thick muscles contracting under my hands, and I sigh his name.

Cassian’s hands fist in the fabric of my pajamas--which happen to still be his shirt--and draws me closer. He kisses my neck, inhaling deeply.

“You smell so fucking good,” he mutters, biting down softly and making me gasp. “It drives me crazy.”

His hands slip to the back of my thighs, then I’m on his lap, knees on the desk next to his hips. “You drive me crazy,” he clarifies.

He kisses me again, hands sliding up my thighs to my ass to grind me against him. Callouses scrape against my skin as he sweeps the shirt off and tosses it behind me.

“Shit,” he murmurs, eyes dropping to take me in.

The fact that he’s still fully dressed while I’m in nothing but my underwear makes me feel even more exposed, doing strange things to my mind. I start unbuttoning his shirt while he kisses down my chest.

He teases one with his hand while he takes the other in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the peak. I squirm, pressing my hips more fully against is, but he holds me still, kissing and teasing me until I can’t take it anymore.

“Cassian,” I murmur, tugging his hair to pull his gaze to mine. “Thank you for the desk. I love it.”

His brows furrow, and I can see him start to think about how much I’ve teased him, but before he can worry that’s what I’m doing, I whisper, “Now fuck me on it. Please.”

A muscle in his jaw flickers, and his fingers dig into the flesh of my hips.

Before I can say another word, he stands and spins us around, sliding me on the desk. He holds my thighs around his hips, and then an idea seems to dawn.

“Wait right here.”

“Seriously?” I ask, even though he’s already half-way out of the room.

“Don’t you dare fucking move!” is the shouted response.

I roll my eyes, but he’s back quickly, holding the red stilettos I wore to our engagement party. I howl with laughter, and a faint blush colors his cheeks, but he stays firm in his desire and puts them on the floor beside my feet.

Then he leans against the window and watches while I slip them on.

His golden eyes blaze as I lean back on my elbows and slowly spread my thighs, in nothing but lace panties and heels.

“I’ll buy you all the desks you want, if you sit on them like that.”

Laughter bubbles out of me, and he’s suddenly on me, leaning over me to kiss me in a frenzy.

I rip his shirt open, and he doesn’t even break the kiss as he throws it to the floor. I hear the telltale clink of a belt, and then he stands up to slide my panties down, grab my legs, and guide them up.

I feel him brush over the center of me, instinctively lifting my hips to give him a better angle.

But he doesn’t give me what I want.

Cassian just stands there, gaze gliding from the hells on his shoulders to the apex of my thighs.

“Hold that thought,” he mutters, dropping to his knees and putting his mouth on me before I can even blink.

My back leaves the desk, a gasp escaping me.

“Cassian.”

“I want you to come on my tongue, then you get to come on my cock.”

“Cassian.”

He hums, the sensation sending shivers down my spin. He kisses me like he’s doing it for him, not me, mouth on every part of me it can reach.

I can see the lines of his tattoos on his shoulders, the top of his curly hair. It’s too much to handle, so I just lay back down on the desk and throw my hands above my head to hold on to the edge of the desk.

The only time he stops is to tell me things that apparently can’t wait five minutes, but I don’t even care because every word out of that sinful mouth makes me burn hotter.

“Come for me,” he demands breathlessly a few minutes later.

“Don’t boss me around,” I groan, even as I do exactly what he wants.

He lets me ride it out, dropping kisses to my thighs and stomach and hips.

As soon as I catch my breath, he’s on his feet, putting me in the exact position I was in earlier.

And then he’s pushing inside me, and I honestly almost come again from the feel alone. “Thank God,” I groan, the past three reminding me of the misery teasing him put me through.

“Fucking hell, you’re perfect.”

Hands on my thighs, he holds me in place as he starts to move. But as he picks up speed, going harder with each thrust, his hands have to slip to my thighs to keep me still.

I say his name, sounding like I’m begging him for something, and he groans. His head’s thrown back, bare skin shining and making him look likesome sort of beautiful devil.

“Hurry up, little wolf,” he almost pleads.

The sound of that stupid fucking nickname does me in, and I come with a loud moan. I would’ve kicked him in the head if he hadn’t immediately dropped down on top of me to kiss me without abandon.

His hips still but he keeps kissing me until he has to break for air.

I’m boneless and limp beneath him, and he looks me over with male satisfaction.

Then his mouth drops open, betrayal in his eyes, and he says, “I just realized you didn’t speak even French! All these weeks of me fucking fantasizing about that... well, I guess we’ll just have to do it again.”

“Accorde moi un instant,” I pant in French, asking for a moment.

He grins down at me. “Take your time. We have a lifetime.”

My lips twitch, and I don’t stifle the urge to smile.

I’m about to say something, but then his expression turns serious. “You realize I have to fuck you on my desk now. Equality and whatnot.”

I laugh and pull his mouth to mine. “As long as you know I’m still not giving you my side of the bed.”

He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth. “We can share.”

~

We get married seven days later, surrounded by a crowd of family, dirty politicians, thieves, drug and arms dealers, and friends.

In the past week, we’ve solidified our business model to a thing of perfection. I handle public relations, real estate and development, and negotiations for the shipping business. Cassian handles both the Bratva and Cosa Nostra soldiers in New York, training new recruits, drug distribution, and negotiations for the arms business.

Basically, I do what I’m good at, and he does what he’s good at.

I know it’s ridiculous to trust someone with half my business after only a month of knowing them, but like Cassian said, I was tired of doing this shit alone.

I’d been dreading the future, dreading taking over and doing everything myself. And now I don’t have to.

I have him to lean on, him to trust.

Looking up, I notice him watching me as we dance, not at all paying attention to the crowd. “What are you thinking about, little wolf?”

“I’m thinking how I thought of this marriage as nothing but an alliance at first. I guess it still is that, but... it’s also more.” He spins us around to the music, watching me with a knowing expression. “You’re more to me than that. And I’m... I’m happy. Working with you and the thought of our future makes me happy.”

He smiles. 

“You love me,” he states with quiet confidence. 

My heart starts pounding, because I’ve never told a living person that before. 

But it’s never been true before, and it is now, so I respond steadily, “I do.”

“I love you, too, Nesta Orlov. Have since the moment I saw you.” He sounds so relaxed about it, the words falling from his lips so easily.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” I ask, not understanding how he’s the calm one all of a sudden. 

“Anything you love something, there’s the risk you could lose it or it could hurt you.” Cassian brushes a thumb over my cheek. “But I could never be scared to love you.”

I shake my head and start to say something, but he cuts me off. 

“Every morning, when you wake up, there’s this little moment where you look around, confused. And then you look at me, and that hesitation in your eyes just... melts.” He dips me, wrapping his arms tight around me. “You look at me like you trust me, and love me, and want me.”

He presses a soft kiss to my lips. “That look is worth every risk and hardship and whatever else loving someone entails.”

I kiss him back as he brings us to standing. “Italians are such saps.”

He shows off the smile I’ve realized he only gives me, and I say the words I know he needs to hear just as badly as I did. “I love you, Cassian. You’re worth the risk, too.”

______________________________________________________

THANK U FOR READINGGG soft ending for the win

[mardereads19]

Elriel Month 🌸🦇

Day 3:

Azriel followed the carriage silently, winnowing from tree to tree, his shadows informing him Elain was in position and ready. He didn’t feel comfortable in letting her do this, but he also trusted her to do her part well. She was more than capable, more than prepared. He had trained her, after all.

Well, he hadn’t been the only one. Elain had revealed to him that she had been training in secret for a while with Nuala and Cerridwen. They’d done a good job. He made a mental note to give them a bonus come Calanmai.

Also to reprimand them for keeping secrets while being his spies.

The sun had already set and there was no moon tonight, giving Azriel the perfect cover from the males Elain had to distract and dupe into giving away what they knew.

“If these males are being controlled by Koschei, will it even make sense to kidnap them?” Feyre had asked on their meeting in Rhys’s study this afternoon. Azriel had been quietly observing and listening to the plans his High Lord had been piecing together. “At least, when Briallyn had control over Eris’s males—”

“And me,” Cassian had supplied from where he stood next to his mate, his arms crossed over his chest and face contemplative. Az had noted the way Nesta’s jaw clenched and her eyes shined silver for a second. The need to kill. The drive to eradicate the threat against her mate. Az had looked away.

Feyre had nodded. She’d looked tired, an expression that’d been mirrored in Rhys. The baby kept us awake all night. He wouldn’t stop crying, Rhys had told him earlier, but there had been light in his eyes, a quiet happiness even as he’d yawned.

Az had not seen his brother yawn in a while.

“And Cassian,” Feyre had added, a spark of anger in her eyes, “they would not talk.”

Az had agreed, “When we brought them to the Hewn City, they hadn’t given anything away.”

There’d been a silence for a moment. They had all, save for Nesta, witnessed Azriel’s administrations to the males of Autumn. No torture had gotten them to open their mouths, to reveal who had sent them after the mask. Feyre had pointed out how wrong it was to do that to them when they were not themselves.

Nesta had sat up straighter in her chair in the study before saying, “But what if they are being partially controlled?”

Rhys had raised his eyebrows.

Nesta had stood, Cassian reaching for her hand. Nesta let their fingers intertwine. It had brought a small pang of envy into Az’s heart. He’d pushed it away. “Bellius,” she said with disgust, “that male from the Blood Rite. He constantly mocked us, tried to rile us up. Sometimes I wonder if he gave too much away.”

Rhys had frowned. “Perhaps he wasn’t being controlled. He was only in on the plan.”

“He was being controlled,” Nesta insisted. Her gaze had been unfocused, as if lost in the memories. Cassian’s wings shifted. “He had that glassy look in his eyes that were on the Autumn Court males. I noticed it from the first time I met him. I thought he had been drunk at first.” She had blinked and, as if remembering where she was, had turned to Cass. He had pulled her closer to him, his eyes reassuring her.

Amren’s lips had twisted upwards in what might have been a smile before she turned to Rhys. “So there is a possibility that Koschei only partially controls these Fae, especially if they are far away from where he is located now. His grasp on them through his power may be less strong, perhaps allowing them the freedom to speak, like that male from the Blood Rite. What would you plan now?”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Feyre had contributed. “The Crown may not work the same way Koschei’s powers could. He could still have full influence over them.”

“Koschei is a death god,” Rhys had said, “I don’t think his power excels in controlling others more than it does in killing them. The crown’s whole purpose is to control living beings and, if it has that limit, then I’m willing to bet Koschei does, too.”

“I wouldn’t place a bet on a thought, Rhys.” It had been clear Feyre was worried. Her fingers had kept tapping on the table. Az wondered if it came as a result of being a mother, that worrying. That caring for the well-being of others. “If we brought them here, could you guarantee they’ll break?”

“I don’t think Azriel could get them to sing for us.” Rhys inhaled. His eyes roamed the map of the continent, focusing on the coast of the human territory. “If Bellius spoke to rile Nesta and her friends up, then only their own arrogant boasting will get them to talk. They have to feel like they are giving the information out of their own free will. That they’d be gaining something by it, even if it’s admiration or applause.”

Azriel had tilted his head, analyzing what Rhys was implying. “There is no one in this room that can convince those men to speak.” Feyre and Rhys were recognizable to all the Fae. Cassian and Az were Illyrian, which would raise suspicions. There was no reason for an Illyrian be on the mortal lands of the continent. And Amren and Nesta had as much chance of charming those Fae as Bryaxis had of calming people.

Mor would have been their best choice, but she was on the Fae side of the continent, too far away to reach in time for tonight.

Rhys had met Az’s gaze. There was a shine on them that often told Azriel that Rhys had an idea. Something in his gut had told him he wouldn’t like it. “No. No one in this room can do it. But I know who.”

“Stop your games and just spill it, boy. I don’t have time for this.” Amren had said, narrowing her eyes at Rhys.

Cassian had rolled his eyes, “What could possibly be more vital than this right now?”

“I have a date with Varian to taste different types of meat and I’m starving. If I stay here any longer, I might eat yours.”

Cassian had barked a laugh. “I wanna see you try, tiny ancient one.”

Azriel had kept his focus on Rhys. Waiting. Fear making his heart beat faster. He knew what was coming.

Finally, Rhys had asked, “How has Elain’s training gone?”

And now, Azriel was following the carriage to where she would be waiting for the Fae. Where she would pretend to be a victim of a robbery. A female riding a wagon on her own in the lonely road when a thief took advantage of the solitude to steal the resources she was on her way to sell in the market and make a coin. Az was to stay in the shadows. He was only allowed to be here in the case the Fae males wanted to take another type of advantage out of her.

Azriel fisted his hands. He had half a mind to destroy the males now and claim a freak accident had killed them rather than find out what they’d intend with her.

He stopped a second, telling his breathing to calm, waiting for his rage to subside. He couldn’t make decisions when his mind was violent, he needed a clear head.

He kept moving only because the carriage did, but he still wanted to spill blood.

A noise caught his attention. There, just beyond the curve of the road, was Elain kneeling on the floor crying as she held a few pieces of the wagon’s wood. Azriel fought the impulse to winnow to her, to console her, to hold her. Tell her everything was alright. That he was with her and no one would hurt her.

She’s pretending. Her cries aren’t real. She knows I’m here.

But it was difficult. His wings twitched, his shadows scattered towards her, but still hid from view. They were ready to strike at his command. Anyone who got near her.

Stand down, he said to them.

The carriage had gotten close enough to to see Elain on the road, see the mess of the wagon, and notice the horse that led it missing.

“Ho!” The rider called to his own horses while pulling on the reins. They stopped next to the wagon’s destruction. Pieces of wood lay around it and Elain. Rhys had taken care of that.

“Cover your face,” he had told Elain before sending a wave of his power to the empty wagon. Elain had covered her face, but noticed it hadn’t been necessary. Azriel had secured a dome of his own power around her. Wood struck a blue wall and jumped off harmlessly. Rhys had narrowed his eyes at him, “Disperse the wood, Azriel. Otherwise it will be weird indeed that the wood landed all around except for that clear demarcation of a dome.”

Azriel looked down. Right, there was a clear difference between where his power had encircled Elain and where it hadn’t.

She had sucked on her lower lip to hide her smile. Azriel felt hot in the face, but he didn’t care that he had made a foolish mistake to protect her. She met his gaze and he saw a promise there that he tucked away before his scent gave away the direction his mind had gone off to.

Elain turned to Rhys, her pale pink dress looking white in the dusk light. Rhys had estimated the Fae would take this road and would be here in half an hour. It was an isolated enough road, one Fae loved to use to stay hidden inside the mortal lands. It was surrounded by forest on both sides, the smell of pine was strong here, but it was a scent Azriel liked. The wagon was brought here by both males in their winnowing.

“Was it really necessary to destroy the wagon like that? Wouldn’t it have sufficed to simply break a wheel?” Elain had asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Rhys studied the mess in the road, his brow furrowed in thought. “A thief would have no need to go to all that trouble.”

“Perhaps not,” he had answered throwing her a wink, “but it just contributes to your woeful story. Make sure to cry extra loud.”

Elain had shaken with laughter and Azriel had taken a step closer to her impulsively. He wanted to lay a hand on her waist, to feel her laugh reverberate through him.

Now, he watched her shake in sobs instead. One of the males from inside the carriage stepped down and walked closer to her. He was dressed in cheap armor, dirty from use, and his brown hair was tied at his nape. The male surveyed the wagon, the destruction and lack of a horse, and finally glanced at Elain. His eyes roamed her body, but Azriel couldn’t tell if the glassy look in his eyes were from the control the male was under or for a different drive.

Azriel felt that hunger for violence stir inside him and fought with everything he could to keep still.

Stand down, Azriel repeated to the shadows when he noticed how they were risking exposure by getting closer to Elain. Hesitantly, they skittered back into the dark.

“What happened here, dear?” The male asked, though his voice didn’t drip kindness.

Elain put on a good show, sobbing and wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her simple dress. She had to look the part of a Fae in hiding, so the dress was akin to the human clothes this area donned, her hair was arranged over her ears, and the glow of her High Fae beauty had been glamoured to an acceptable degree.

“Good, Sir.” She stood and curtsied. “I was riding on the way to the market—” a sob “—when a thief came by.” Tears flowed down Elain’s cheeks so effortlessly Azriel wondered if she was hurt. Did she twist her ankle again while he was away? Perhaps with one of the wood planks he himself had dispersed.

Not real tears, one of his shadows assured him.

He didn’t relax.

“When were you attacked?”

“This afternoon.” She sniffed. “I’ve been here hours, seeing as how hidden this road is. I have no way of getting home.” Elain covered her face in her hands. “I live too far away, and I have an injury in my right leg that makes walking for long periods unbearable.” She wiped away her tears. “I stayed here hoping someone might come around and help me get to a place where I could sleep the night and hopefully rent a horse during the week.”

“Did the thief not take your coin?” The male sounded skeptical.

She nodded, “They did, of course, but I could work for a few days and make the money. I just need a ride.” Elain fidgeted with her dress, successfully looking devastated and scared.

The male gazed back at the carriage and the others, considering his options. Azriel held his breath as the male regarded Elain once more. His face revealed he felt superior, a male who knew he had control of the situation. Exactly what they needed him to think. He also looked like he wanted to impress this lovely female he happened to rescue.

He inclined his head to the side, a smile spreading over his face. “Alright, sweet face. We can take you.”

After a few teary grateful expressions from Elain, the male opened the door of the carriage for her with all the satisfaction of a savior. She climbed the first step, pretending a limp, and as she did so, she glanced over her shoulder.

To the male, she was looking back to the destroyed wagon and up to the trees in sadness. But her gaze met Azriel’s. She had know exactly where he was. He hoped she could read in his eyes what he wanted to tell her.

You’re not alone. I’m right behind you. You’re doing great, lovely fawn. You’re doing great.

Her head dipped in the smallest of nods and then she was inside and the male was closing the door behind him.

Azriel clenched his jaw.

Now the real work begun.

[story-scribbler]

(un)welcome back: chapter two

fic masterlist

read on AO3

comment ‘taglist’ or reblog if you want to be added to the tags!

*

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck.

Crap.

FUCK.

Rhysand continued to watch me, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards in amusement at my obvious surprise. That fucking smirk.

Memories came flooding back, breaking through from the depths of my mind where I’d banished them three years ago.

Rhysand laughing, the deep baritone of his voice ringing out, filling my soul with warmth.

Rhysand dancing with me in my apartment, grinning at me, bright and unrestrained.

Rhysand leaning in, his lips quirking up in that fucking smirk, brushing them gently against mine.

Rhysand touching me, his hands skimming my bare chest, drawing patterns only he could see upon my skin.

Rhysand—

Rhysand leaving.

Rhysand ignoring my calls.

Rhysand walking out of my life, and never turning back.

Tarquin nudged me gently, shaking me out of the grasp of my memories. “Are you good?” His eyes shone with concern, brows furrowed slightly.

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Yeah, um.” I wrenched my eyes away from Rhysand’s figure, focusing on Tarquin. “Just saw someone that I…. who I haven’t seen in a long time.”

I breathed deep. Get it together, Feyre. Yes, Rhysand was here. Yes, I was fucking confused and surprised and hurt.

But I had a job to do. And I’d be damned if I didn’t do it well.

I forced myself to smile at Tarquin, gesturing for him to take us to our table. I could feel Rhysand’s gaze burning into my skin as we crossed the ballroom, and I sighed in relief as we finally made it to our seats. Our two-seat table was tucked into the corner of the ballroom, hiding us away yet giving us a perfect view of the entire hall. No doubt the credit for our isolated, yet strategically placed table was due to Alis and her many, many, many connections in the art industry.

Now, it was time to make use of those connections and earn the gallery some money. I scanned the program at my place, Tarquin doing the same next to me. The orchestra was slotted to play for the next hour, and I could hear the faint strains of the ensemble tuning from where they were seated on the opposite side of the hall. Typically, the wait staff passed out hors d'oeuvres and champagne during these types of performances, making it a good time for us to go out and mingle. Alcohol always loosened tongues. And wallets.

“Once the guests at the front tables start moving around, then we can go,” Tarquin said. “I can take the back tables, and you can go try talking to Helion.”

I smirked at him, mustering up the bravado that had come so easily to me before. “Just you wait. I’ll have Helion in our pockets by the end of the evening.”

He smiled softly at me. “I have no doubt of that.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through me, and I returned his grin, although not as easily as I did before. Rhysand’s presence still weighed heavily on my mind. And on my heart.

We sat for a few minutes, just long enough for me to get antsy. I drummed my fingers on my silk-covered thighs, tapped my heels against the marble floor. Sitting still made my mind wander, wander over to thoughts of violet eyes and black hair and sensual smirks and fiery kisses. To empty apartments and unanswered calls and ignored texts. To the three years ago, when my life felt like it was just beginning. To three years and three months later, when it all went to shit.

The orchestra began to play, sliding into the strains of a gentle melody that perfectly matched the ambiance of the room, yet didn’t overpower it. Tarquin nodded to me before pushing his chair back and gracefully striding across the ballroom. I did the same, heading in the opposite direction as he did.

I wove my way through the ballroom, between the veritable maze of tables and chairs, nodding to the guests I recognized. Emerie, a friend of Nesta’s, was seated in the middle of the ballroom, chatting animatedly to a red-haired woman. She waved to me as I passed her table, and I returned the gesture, not wanting to interrupt, before continuing on, recognizing the head of auburn hair standing in front of me.

I snuck up behind Lucien, grabbing his shoulders from behind. He startled, whipping around as I relished in the look of surprise on his face.

“Jesus, Feyre.” He shook his head at me in mock annoyance, auburn hair swishing with the movement. “A simple ‘hello’ would’ve been fine, you know,” he snarked.

I bit my lip to restrain my cackling. It wasn’t often that I could sneak up on Lucien, and I was enjoying my victory. “Hey Lucien.”

My relationship with Lucien was strained, after …. everything, but he had reached out a few months before, asking to meet for coffee. We had been friends since our freshman year of college, when I had met him and Tamlin. After almost eight years of friendship, I missed him, and from what he said, he missed me, and our friendship. We weren’t necessarily friends again yet, but hopefully, we were getting there.

“You look nice,” he said, before asking bluntly, “You know that Rhysand is here, right?”

I winced. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Lucien was somewhat aware of the Rhysand situation, having asking after all my friends at our coffee date. He didn’t know all the details, but he knew that it was an ugly situation. Despite the rather unpleasant reminder, I was grateful that Lucien thought to warn me.

He looked at me sympathetically. “Good luck with that. He’s sitting with Helion too.”

“Yup,” I said tightly. Apparently, my tone told Lucien all he needed to know.

“Let me guess, that’s your target for the night.” It wasn’t a question.

I grimaced.

“Well. Good luck with that,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “It’s time for me to go rub elbows of my own.”

I waved my fingers at him as he walked away, shooting me finger-guns as he went. Lucien was a curator at the Velaris National Museum of History, which meant that he too needed to go squeeze donations out of the wealthy guests.

Speaking of, I really needed to go talk to Helion before someone else monopolized his attention. I snatched up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, forcing myself to not chug the entire thing in one go, lest I look like an unsophisticated heathen in the midst of all this finery. Regardless of the fact that I would most certainly need something to get me through this night.

Because I was about to go talk to Helion. Who was at the same table as Rhysand. Who I hadn’t heard from in Three. Fucking. Years.

Steeling myself, I maneuvered myself over to where Helion was now standing, chatting with Kallias and Viviane, Kallias’s hand resting gently on Viviane’s back. A rush of relief sank through my body upon seeing his company. Rhysand was nowhere to be found, and Viviane was a friend of Mor’s, which meant that starting this conversation wouldn’t be awkward.

Luckily, Viviane spotted me as I approached them.

“Feyre,” she called out, gesturing for me to join them. She smiled mischievously at me. As a friend of Mor’s, she knew that I was a curator, and that my entire purpose for tonight was to get donations and sell gallery pieces. She was also well-aware that Helion was extremely, extremely, extremely wealthy. And being the smart woman that she was, she likely connected the dots between me coming up to their group, and Helion’s presence there.

I sidled up to their group, accepting Viviane’s hug of welcome.

“Viviane, Kallias,” I smiled warmly at the couple. “It’s good to see you both.”

Kallias inclined his head in return. “Likewise, Feyre. Have you seen Rhys—”

I stifled a laugh as Viviane not-so-subtly elbowed him in the stomach. He took the hint immediately, wincing apologetically in my direction. I smiled gratefully at Viviane for her intervention. As a friend of Mor’s, Viviane was also aware of what had happened with Rhysand, but apparently, Kallias hadn’t remembered.

Beside me, Helion took in our awkward expressions with curiosity before smirking down at me.

Viviane jumped to attention. “Helion, have you met—”

“Feyre Archeron,” he drawled, taking me by surprise. I didn’t think he would remember my name, but apparently, I was wrong.

He extended his left hand, the other being occupied by a wine glass, and I shook it firmly.

“Helion Dayes,” I purred back, matching his tone.

Amused delight shone in his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re here to swindle me out of my money.”

“So what if I am?” I smirked at him. “It worked out so well for me before.”

Indeed, the last time we had met, I managed to get a sizable donation of a few thousand. As well as convinced him to buy a few of the more expensive pieces from the gallery. In total, I got about $80,000 from him. Alis had gifted me some very expensive wine in gratitude, which Azriel and I had enjoyed immensely as we spent the night getting drunk off our asses.

Despite the fact that Helion himself had been drunk off his ass when he made the donations, it appeared that he still remembered opening his wallet that night.

Helion sighed exaggeratedly. “I’ll spare you the posturing, although I know you’re good at it. Will a twenty-thousand donation suffice for my lady?”

Well, that was easy.

Not letting my surprise shine through, I shrugged nonchalantly. Twenty-thousand was more than enough, but if Helion was in a particularly generous mood…. Well, I might as well take advantage of it. Beside us, Viviane and Kallias watched with amusement.

Helion clicked his tongue, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “You drive a hard bargain, Feyre.”

“What can I say?” I said, meeting his gaze. “I’m very good at my job.”

“I bet that’s not the only job--”

Kallias coughed loudly next to me, shooting a warning glare at Helion. Viviane was practically shaking with restrained laughter, lips quivering as she fought to keep them shut.

I simply quirked an eyebrow up at Helion. If that was intended to fluster me, well, Cassian and I had certainly traded lewder insults than that.

“Fine,” he said, shaking his head at Kallias, before turning his attention back to me. “Do you have any gallery pieces that I’d be interested in?”

“Depends on what you’re interested in,” I said lazily, sipping my champagne.

“A Feyre Archeron original, perhaps?” he said as he fixed me with that piercing gaze of his.

“Excuse me?”

What the fuck.

“Well, it’s just that I’ve heard, from a very good friend of mine, mind you, that you’re an extremely talented artist.” His eyes danced with amusement as he took a long drag of his wine. He knew, then.

Fucking Rhysand.

Rhysand was one of the few, apart from my other friends, who knew about my painting. Helion knew then, knew about Rhysand and I. Whether it be through the rumor mill, or from Rhysand himself, he knew.

I forced myself not to squirm, even as I could feel Helion’s hidden amusement. “It appears that your source is mistaken. After all, other than Viviane and Kallias here, I don’t believe we have any mutual friends.”

Helion cocked his head to the side, opening his mouth. He cut himself off, however, eyes flicking up to look behind me. He smirked. “Give him hell for me, why don’t you,” he said, sauntering away.

And a voice that I hadn’t heard in three years sounded from behind me.

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

*

bolded won't tag

if you want to be removed from the taglist, just let me know!

@feysand-loml

@scatterbrainedgirl

@thecrispypotatochip

@highladysith

@charincharge

@angelofmusic81

@suppengott

@ousttwothirty

@thebonecarver

@feysandandnyxsworld

@rhysandswingspan

@angelofmusic81

@tillyrubes10

@live-the-fangirl-life

[emilia3546]

Playing With The Spymaster - Cassian x Nesta x Azriel NSFW

Sequel to Yours. Azriel once again joins Nesta and Cassian, stepping into a much more dominant role than before, with both of them.

*****

Nesta could hardly move, with her hands cuffed behind her back, attached to her feet with a short chain, forcing her shoulders back and her chest up. She shifted on her knees, trying to find some sort of friction with the bed, but failed. She wriggled again and coughed as the chain between her hands and the collar around her throat forced the collar back and cut off her airway momentarily. She stared straight at the door, unable to look up or down without tightening the collar, she was stuck waiting for whenever the males deigned to show up. She silently cursed her mate, he was probably enjoying the thought of her waiting for him, getting wetter and more desperate by the second.

The door creaked open, and Cassian smirked at her as he stepped through the door, with Azriel right on his heels. Both males stopped just inside the room, staring at her, and she bit her lip to keep from calling out to them. Cassian stalked towards her, and Azriel just sank into an armchair next to the door, content to watch, for now at least. Nesta kept her eyes on Cassian as he halted at the foot of the bed, leaning forwards, just enough to be able to gently trail a hand across her bare breasts. Nesta gasped, and tried to arch her back, but coughed again when the movement pulled on the collar, and she relaxed, panting for breath. Cassian smirked again, and cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers, gently, then more insistently, and she opened for him, letting out a muffled moan as his tongue slid alongside hers, claiming, dominant, and she whimpered when he stood up and backed away from her,

"Cass," she whined, "Please," and then bit her lip, realizing what she had said,

"Oh dear, what happen to 'I don't beg', Nesta?" Azriel drawled from across the room, standing up from his chair, and pulling another one to just in front of the bed, not an armchair, this one was smaller, almost simple, and he smirked at her when she narrowed her eyes, trying to work out what they were planning. "She looks rather uncomfortable, Cass, perhaps we should release her?"

"Oh, we can't do that," Cassian chuckled, "But, we could move her to be more comfortable, would you like that, sweetheart?" Nesta nodded, "Use your words,"

"Yes! Please,"

"Please what?"

"Please, Sir, I need-" she was cut off by Azriel behind her, pulling back on the collar, leaving her wriggling, and trying to escape his grip. She slumped forwards as he disconnected the chain from her collar, leaving her head free to move. But, with her hands and feet still bound together, she couldn't move from where she was sprawled face-down on the bed. She whined, and Azriel ran a hand up her side, gripping her chin, and forcing her to look at Cassian, "Please, Sir," she whispered again, "Please," Cassian cocked his head to one side,

"Alright, since you begged so nicely, we'll be kind to you, for now." She dropped her head the moment Azriel let go of her face, his hands trailing down her body, until he reached the chains binding her still. "Eyes on me," Cassian reminded her as Azriel undid the chains, leaving her able to move, although not for long, as he scooped her up, and deposited her in the chair at the foot of the bed. Immediately, he pulled her hands behind her, reattaching the chain between the cuffs, pinning her to the chair. She glanced around, looking for Cassian, but he'd snuck behind her, and now placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently, and pushed her head sideways, leaving her skin exposed for his attention. Nesta moaned as Cassian kissed his way up the side of her neck and along her jaw, hardly noticing Azriel's touch on her legs, until he grasped her ankles and pulled them apart. She tried to look, to see what he was doing, but Cassian grasped a hold of her hair, holding her head still. Azriel pulled her legs wider apart, cuffing her feet, then her knees to the chair's legs,

"I had this specially made," he muttered, and Cassian released her hair, finally allowing her to look at Azriel, his gaze dark, roaming over her body, now fully on display, "It allows for optimum control," he continued, and Nesta wriggled, unable to find even an inch of movement, she was completely still, except for her head. She whimpered, half in anticipation, half in fear as she realized that she was completely at his mercy, and tried to look round for Cassian,

"Shhhhh, sweetheart, it's okay," her mate murmured in her ear, and she relaxed as he clipped the chain from the collar to the chair, forcing her to stare straight ahead, straight at the bed. "So beautiful," Cassian whispered before stepping away from behind her, and shrugging his shirt and pants off, with Azriel following suit. Both of them? Right now? She couldn't, and her breathing quickened with the slight edge of fear, but she didn't make a sound. Azriel was still stood in front of her when he pivoted to face Cassian,

"Get on the bed." Nesta couldn't see how her mate responded, but Azriel narrowed his eyes, "Now." Moments later, Cassian had climbed onto the bed, "Face Nesta." He did so, sitting still in the middle of the bed, watching her, and she fought the urge to beg him to come back. Azriel climbed onto the bed behind him, and shoved him forwards, forcing him to throw his hands out to avoid face-planting on the mattress. Azriel then pulled Cassian onto his knees, forcing his ass up in the air. "Watch, Nesta, and don't make a sound, do you understand?" She nodded, "I said, do you understand?"

"Yes." Azriel raised an eyebrow, ignoring Cassian struggling to get his hands back underneath him as he stared straight at Nesta, "Yes, Spymaster." She whispered, and Azriel grinned at her, his shadows knocking Cassian's hands out from underneath him as soon as he'd managed to get up, sending him sprawling face-first on the mattress again. Nesta bit down on her lip as Azriel popped open the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand, and kept eye contact with her as he slowly eased a finger into her mate's ass. Cassian moaned, loudly, and Nesta strained against the restraints, but slumped back when they held firm. Cassian wriggled and tried to push himself back onto his hands, but again Azriel's shadows knocked them out from underneath him, forcing him to stay face down, ass up on the bed, his wings drooped beside him on the mattress. His pants and moans were almost Nesta's undoing as Azriel eased a second finger into him, and if it weren't for Azriel's reminder, she would have cried out, "Silent, Nesta, or he gets punished." The whine that had been building in her throat died immediately, and tears pricked her eyes from the frustration of being forced to watch, with no chance for any relief, from either of them.

Cassian was still panting as Azriel added a third finger, making the male underneath him squirm, and grind his hips against Azriel's hand, Nesta tried to turn away, but the collar held her still, forcing her to keep watching. She closed her eyes as a last resort, but opened them when Azriel tutted softly,

"Already misbehaving?" Azriel glanced down at Cassian, "What should I do with you, then?" He wasn't actually asking Cassian, who didn't answer, but gasped in surprise when shadows covered his face, "Last warning, Nesta, next time I'll do more than take away his senses." Cassian didn't react, the shadows must be muffling his ears as well as blinding him, then. Nesta trembled, but nodded, keeping her eyes open as Azriel smiled, "I never asked, how was training without me the other day?" Nesta wasn't sure if she was supposed to answer, so she just nodded, hoping that was enough, "Good? Have you started working on daggers and shorter blades yet?" Nesta shook her head, how was Azriel making small talk while buried knuckled-deep in her mate's ass? It was almost as if he could hear her thoughts, because he chuckled, "I bet Gwyn would pick it up the fastest."

"No way!" Nesta clamped her mouth shut, as if that would stop Azriel from noticing, he just grinned at her,

"Naughty," he crooned, no fair, he had tried to make her speak, that was cheating! "Watch." He said as he pulled his hand away, and lifted the shadows around Cassian's face, "Your mate spoke, Cass, very naughty indeed,"

"How dreadful," Cassian managed, "What shall we do with her?" He'd forgotten,

"Oh, Cass, I'm not going to do anything with her, but you are not allowed to come until I say." Cassian let out a breath, and made to complain but Azriel was already lining up behind him, and muffled Cassian's moans by shoving his face into the mattress. He set a punishing pace, rougher than he'd been with Nesta, and only let Cassian's head go after a few thrusts, leaving him gasping for air, and panting on the bed. Nesta strained against the chains again, desperate to reach him, to not be left alone. Cassian moaned again when Azriel gripped the base of his wings, using them to pull him backwards with each thrust, forcing himself deeper, and Nesta almost cried out for them, either of them, the twin moans of pleasure almost too much. Azriel groaned, and thrust particularly hard into Cassian's ass, before climaxing inside him. Cassian moaned again, and met Nesta's eyes, her own desperation mirrored there. "You can speak now, Nesta." Azriel said, pulling out, and letting Cassian collapse onto the bed next to him, panting for breath. Azriel pulled him to a sitting position, "Your turn to watch, Cass." He muttered before something tickled Nesta's leg, climbing higher. She couldn't look down, but she knew what it was. A shadow,

"Please, Spymaster." She started, but cut herself off with a moan as the shadow climbed higher, and brushed against her clit. She moaned again, and Cassian stirred, "Please, I, I want-" she screamed as the shadow dived inside her, hitting all the right spots at the same time, but not hard enough, it wasn't going to make her come. One look at Azriel's smirk told her that he had intended that. Slowly, Cassian was coming back to himself, enough that he tried to stand to go to her, but was yanked back by a wing,

"Sit. Still." Azriel demanded, "It's her turn, then you can play." He turned to face Cassian, leaving the shadow to torment Nesta on its own, and muttered something that even Nesta's fae hearing couldn't detect, but it made Cassian fall still, and mutter,

"Okay." He would never be able to fully submit, could never refer to anyone else by a title, but it was enough for Azriel, he knew that. The shadow hardened its attacks on Nesta's sex, leaving her struggling for breath as she screamed and whimpered, and Azriel moved back behind Cassian, but didn't move him, instead laying his hands on his friend's shoulders. Cassian closed his eyes and moaned when Azriel's hands slid down to his wings, stroking delicately over the sensitive membranes, and Cassian locked eyes with Nesta. She imagined it was him inside her, not a shadow, but her mate, she wanted him, now, she wanted him inside her, and she yelled out his name as the shadow finally let her climax, before sliding away, leaving her empty, and desperate to be filled, by something, anything. She hardly registered Azriel speaking, until Cassian moaned out her name and finally spilled onto the bed beneath him.

"Go get her." Azriel said, finally allowing Cassian to cross the room to Nesta, with Azriel now standing behind her, she fixed her gaze on Cassian, dropping to his knees between her legs. It was too soon, she whimpered and tried to shake her head, but she didn't stop him as he lowered his mouth to her, leaving her gasping and screaming his name, again and again. Tears pricked her eyes when he came up for air, and told her that she wasn't to come, quite happily slipping back into his usual role with her. She tried desperately to hold back, tears starting to fall down her face at the effort of delaying her climax, and sobbed when Azriel brushed up the side of her ribs, finding her breasts, and slowly teasing them while Cassian kept her pinned on the edge, unable to cross it without his permission. She sobbed again when he sucked her clit into his mouth, straining against the restraints, she was going to come, with, or without permission. She wriggled as much as she could, and Azriel tugged back on the collar, forcing her to fall silent,

"Sit still." He reminded her, continuing his teasing until she completely fell apart under their attentions. The moment Cassian tapped her leg to let her know she could come, her thighs squeezed around Cassian's head as much as they could while she screamed, and climaxed again, still crying and panting when the males stood away from her.

Cassian stepped behind the chair to release Nesta, and lifted her into his arms, she whimpered, and buried her face in his neck, desperately trying to draw air into her lungs as he carried her across to the bed. She sighed as he settled her down among the pillows, and Azriel stepped back, leaving them for a moment while Cassian kissed along her jaw, and down her neck, before kissing her mouth again, gentler this time, loving, not claiming. She clung on to his shoulders, savoring every point of contact between them as he slowly pushed into her. Nesta's eyes rolled back, and she fell limp beneath Cassian as he slowly worked to seat himself inside her. He kissed her temple and pulled out, slowly thrusting back in a few times, kissing her all the while, until she squeezed his hands to go faster. He obliged her, moving quicker, thrusting harder but keeping his love flowing along the mating bond between them. She returned every thought, every emotion he showed her, and lifted her face to kiss his jaw, holding herself against him while he moved inside her.

It wasn't long before his thrusts became erratic, and he spilled inside her, making her gasp and clench around him as she climaxed, safe in his embrace, and he kept moving, working her through it, until she dropped limp onto the bed again. He rolled off her, and pulled her onto his chest, rubbing her back with one hand while she recovered, the other in her hair, holding her against him. She snuggled into him with the haze of her climax still over her mind, but as she came back, she lifted herself up a bit, and wiggled her ass, looking over her shoulder for Azriel as she lowered herself back onto Cassian's cock, that slightly arrogant smirk returning yet again as Azriel checked that he was okay with everything before slowly easing into Nesta's ass. He didn't need to prepare her for him, Cassian had already done it before tying her up earlier. Cassian now grasped a hold of her hips, setting the pace for Azriel to match, switching roles with Azriel, he was in control now, despite being on the bottom, he was the one calling the shots,

"Don't be soft, Az," he chuckled, "Fuck her," and thrust upwards particularly hard to illustrate his point, making Nesta's arms buckle, sending her sprawling onto his chest, whimpering with each thrust from either male. Up from Cassian, then immediately down from Azriel. Each thrust forced both males deeper into her, until she could think of nothing else than the overwhelming pleasure from both their cocks buried inside her. She gasped for breath when Azriel pulled her hair, forcing her head up, forcing her to arch off Cassian, leaving her breasts exposed for her mate while Azriel tugged on her hair with each thrust. Cassian cupped both her breasts in him hands, massaging them in time with his own thrusts, and reached over her to pull Azriel's face to his own, kissing the male deeply, leaving Nesta whining in complaint, until Azriel turned and kissed her cheek,

"Jealous, are we, Nes?" He chuckled, thrusting deeper into her, at the same time as Cassian pressed his lips to hers, but then shoved her off, pushing Azriel back at the same time. Cassian rose, and guided Nesta's face towards him, and she automatically opened her mouth for him. She moaned around him when Azriel thrust back into her, forcing her down onto Cassian's cock so hard she gagged and tried to pull back, but Cassian had a hand gripping her hair, forcing her still as he thrust into her mouth, and she gagged again, tears forming each time his cock struck the back of her throat. She wriggled  to get more comfortable, and Azriel paused to let her, only continuing when she shoved her hips backwards. Azriel chuckled behind her, "Greedy," she moaned again as he thrust harder, deeper into her, "You know Cassian told me how you said you wanted two cocks inside you," Nesta tried to look at him, but Cassian gripped her face, starting to fuck her throat in earnest now, just gentle enough to keep her from choking again, "He said how you wanted both of us, together. You wanted two Illyrians inside you. I wonder, would you complain if he decided to share you with everyone?" No, probably not, she admitted to herself, and tried to speak, only managing a weak cry, Azriel gripped her hips tighter, thrusting harder until he spilled inside her, pulling out to allow Cassian to shove her down on her back, and thrust his cock harder down her throat. She swallowed as he came, not losing a single drop of the release he pumped down her throat, and he grinned at her when he let her up,

"Good girl," he muttered, kissing her gently, seemingly only remembering Azriel when he crawled across the mattress towards them, "Lie down, Az, let Nesta see exactly what you can do with that mouth of yours." Azriel flopped onto his back, and Cassian guided Nesta to hover over his face, and Azriel took over guiding her down onto him. Nesta looked round for Cassian when he let go, "I'm still here," he muttered, "I'm just gonna do Az a favor," he said, and lowered himself to his forearms to take Azriel's cock into his mouth. Azriel stopped his attentions on Nesta's sex, and she ground her hips against his face until he continued on, he hadn't been expecting that, then. She grinned, and gripped his hands on her hips, guiding them up to her breasts, and moaned, letting herself go to the pleasure, closing her eyes. Only the sounds of Cassian sucking Azriel's cock kept her from drifting into her mind completely, and she cried out both males' names as she climaxed again, and from the way Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, hard, she knew he had followed her. She lay beside him once Cassian had helped her move off of him, and Cassian wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her shoulder gently,

"You alright, Az?" She asked, squeezing his shoulder, and he nodded,

"I just, I wasn't expecting that just then, it was good though," he added quickly, as if worried that he'd upset them,

"That's good," Nesta mumbled, and quickly glanced at Cassian to check he was okay before snuggling into Azriel a bit, "I wasn't sure exactly what you meant before." She mumbled,

"What I meant?"

"She means when you suggested we share your cock. Even though we discussed it, you still weren't expecting to watch me get fucked, were you sweetheart?" Cassian chuckled,

"No. No I was not. Perhaps I'll have to start doing that, then." She grinned, and Cassian gently bit her shoulder, laying a wing across them all.

*****

Nesta wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but when she woke up, Azriel was pulling his clothes back on, he smiled at her before quickly saying something to Cassian and slipping out again. Nesta sat up, and Cassian sank onto the bed beside her, pulling her into his side, and kissed her forehead. Her hair was wet.

"Did you put me in the bath?"

"Yeah, you've been sleeping for about an hour, we really thought you'd wake up, but you just wriggled and clung on to me." Nesta flushed,

"I'm not that bad,"

"It's adorable, I love it," he flicked her nose gently, and grabbed her hairbrush from their bedside table, starting to slowly brush out her hair, easing the tangles with his fingers before brushing through it, leaving it falling in a cascade around her shoulders, "Was everything alright? I know it was a bit more intense than before. Especially the chair."

"I liked the chair. Even when you two were just picking on me." She laughed, "And it did give me a wonderful view." She sighed, and leaned her head against him, "How come you never told me that you enjoyed that?" She asked,

"I don't know, it never came up, I guess."

"Well, do you want me to do that?"

"Do you want to?" He countered,

"I wouldn't really know how," she admitted, "And I'm quite happy with you fucking me, if you are."

"I am. It's only ever been with males that I've considered, and enjoyed, getting fucked, but if you want to at some point, we can see." She giggled and leaned back against him fully,

"Perhaps, but we'll see, I guess." He kissed her again, and murmured that he loved her, laying her back down on the now-fresh sheets, and pulled her onto his chest, she laid her head against him, listening to his heartbeat as it lulled her to sleep.

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

gwynriel appreciation week-day 6

book predictions

gwyn will be the one to initiate the first kiss

Honorary headcanon: double the trouble, wasted or wipes: azriel and gwyn make a bet or in other words just a lot of fluff (side note I’m terrible at names so that’s why)

“I am not staying with the twins.” 

azriel picked up the young girl, barely a couple months old with hair as fiery as her spirit. she loved to get into trouble much to her parents dismay. azriel held her while his dark haired son, who was much more gentle sat on his shoulders. “mommy loves you guys so much” he said said to his kids. 

“yes mommy does love you. mommy also loves wine, which she hasn’t had for 13 months. and needs daddy to watch the two winged children that she pushed out of her vagina for 4 hours straight, while she gets wasted. isn’t that right? yes it is” the baby talk was endless. 

gwyn went to her son and picked him up off azriel’s shoulders, careful of the wings, while azriel picked up their daughter and they brought their kids up to the nursery. gwyn and az stayed with their kids, gently singing them a lullaby. their voices flowed together in a perfect harmony and in minutes they were both asleep. when they were sure neither child was going to wake up gwyn and az crept out of the room on silent feet. 

“so you’re sure we can’t find anyone to baby sit” 

“nesta, cassian, mor, and emerie are going on a double date. elain and lucien get in for nyx’s birthday tomorrow. rhys and feyre are always busy. and I definitely don’t trust amren. so that pretty much covers everyone”

“well is varian here? he’s good with the kids.”

“already checked, he’s at the summer court. something about a loose dolphin” 

“sweetie. you know I love you so so much but tonight vassa and I are going to get drunk out of our minds and you are going to stay home and ‘make sure our lovely children don’t fly out the window?”

“might I remind you that it is my turn, you went out 3 weeks ago?”

“might I remind you that I pushed two children out of my vagina for 4 hours?”

“love didn’t we agree you could only use that once a day?”

“yes we did and this is the first.” 

“interesting because I seem to remember at about 4:30 in the morning a certain crying baby and the words ‘you deal with them I gave them life’ “ he said imitating a half asleep gwyn. 

“dammit.” she cursed. “but you’re going to let me go anyway because you love me so much” gwyn said with a sheepish smile. 

“gwyn,” azriel paused and looked at her as her eyes grew wide “not a chance.” her face dropped but instead of admitting defeat, a new idea took place

“hmm how about,” gwyn walked over to him and began to kiss his neck. “if I do this.” she ran her finger through his hair as she placed soft kisses up and down his jugular. 

“Oh you are an evil women.” az said breathlessly. 

“I know” she smirked. “but you love it” gwyn whispered into his ear. azriel was about to give in when his shadows whispered to him balthazar is near. This cool breeze of his companions brought him back to his senses and az with great difficulty stepped back from his mate. 

“you know I do.” he took an extra step for insurance because he was very close to ripping her clothes off. “and I would love to fuck your brains out,” gwyn’s breath hitched. “when I come back.” 

“fine. you don’t want your mate, your wife to have fun with her friend, then i guess will have to settle this the old fashion way. like mature adults.” she paused for dramatic effect “azriel”

“gwyn” 

“if I can beat you in a race then I get to go out, if you beat me then you get to go out. deal?”

“I am a 500 year old warrior and you want to challenge me to a race?” azriel asked stunned

“Oh get over yourself, we’ve been together for how many years now and you still think I would take a bet nevertheless propose one I had no chance of winning?”

“yes my dear, I must have had a temporary brain lapse to forget how much you love to win.”

“only as much as you do”

“where are we racing?” gwyn looked out the window and saw a darkhaired winged figure. 

“to balthazar.” 

“alright priestess” he rolled his shoulders back. “ready to stay at home all damn night” 

“in your dreams shadowsinger.”  

“my dreams are of you” he said with a wink and they both took off. gwyn got to the door first and tried to shut it in his face. 

“oh so were playing dirty now are we”

gwyn and az sprinted through the house, throwing obstacles in each others way to try and slow the other down. 

they kept running and running, taking different routes until they both met each other once again in front of their house. neck and neck. 

“enjoy changing those dippers” 

“oh bite me” 

“gladly”

2 feet away from balthazar at the exact same time they touched each of his shoulders. the momentum pushed him over and he fell back startled. 

“what in the caldrons name are you two doing” 

both gwyn and az ignored him “who won?”

“what?”

“who go to you first” azriel said impatiently 

“I have no idea”

“you guys got to him at the literal exact same time.” they looked up to see vassa staring at them. 

“You have go to be kidding me, well since you’re here can you please tell my mate that we should get to go out tonight?”

“and can you tell my mate that I will be going out” vassa and balthazar gave each other a look and seemed to silently converse. 

“well parenting seems to be making you two even more crazy then normal so” said vassa as balthazar cut in

“vassa and I will baby sit the twins while you two get some clearly needed time alone” 

they left the couple alone and gwyn turned to azriel, “is that offer from earlier still on the tabel?”

azriel smirked “always.”