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bookstantrash · 3 days

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A/N: And I am back in my "Nessian with RED (TV) fic titles" agenda. They are just so RED coded and I had been dying to write something related to this album it is one of my fav albums of TS tbf.

This one shot is more Cassian centric, and it is also a type of fanfic I had been meaning to write for the longest times. I just feel like the fandom overall forgets that Cassian has a lot of trauma and insecurities, and I wish we saw more of that.

Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

Nightmares were not unusual to Cassian. He had them for as long as he could remember.

He had them when he was a mere child living on the outskirts of Windhaven, blowing on his hands to try and keep himself warm.

Had them when he was a young warrior, taking part in the Blood Rite, fighting his way to find his brothers alive.

Had them when he took part in the First War and saw deaths far more gruesome than what he had experienced at the Blood Rite.

Had them pile up after each war, each battle he took part in. Dreamt about his soldiers dying, about having to give their families the news and be met with sadness, anger and resentment. That they were gone and would never return. That while they had died he, a mere bastard born nobody, an orphan, had not.

He grew used to nightmares. Usually he would wake up with silent tears and a sense of regret and failure over his heart, spending the rest of the night awake, going over reports. Those were the good nights.

And on those rare times when his mind was particularly evil and wanted to punish him deeply, on those nights he would wake up with his heart racing, the urge to throw up taking him out of his bed to leave him retching over the toilet, the need to scream at anyone and everyone consuming him. To scream in anger and despair. Those were the bad nights, the ones who made him go to the training ring and rip the punching bags, made him stay there until the sun was rising and he would pass out with tiredness, no dreams, good or bad appearing for him.

He was so used to his nightmares that he knew what to expect, knew how to recognise when it would be a bad or good night.

And then he met Nesta and his nightmares changed.

Now he dreamt of his failures with her. Not being able to stop her from being thrown into the Cauldron, not protecting her from Hybern during the War, not helping her heal sooner after the war, letting her be kidnapped again and thrown in the Blood Rite.

Nothing could have prepared him for those nightmares, nightmares that got worse after they finally got together.

Because finally being able to be with the love of his life, his Nesta, his wife and mate… that made him incredibly afraid. Afraid that the happiness he had never felt before would be stolen from him, leaving him empty, a sad and lonely youngling in the bitter snow all over again.

The first time Cassian had a nightmare after he and Nesta had wed, he had woken up in a cold sweat, heart beating so loudly on his ears that for a second he thought he was hearing the Illyrian war drums. He had dreamt of the night she had been Made, of dragging himself over the cold floor of Hybern’s throne room, the pain of his shredded and bloody wings almost non-existent at the face of Nesta’s despair. At her screams of rage as she was dragged under the cold dark waters of the Cauldron.

He had only calmed down when he realised Nesta was safely sleeping beside him, arms around him tightening and her sleepily mumbling at him.

“Where are you going?”

Cassian had considered untangling himself from his wife’s warm embrace and going over some leftover documents, silently keeping watch over her. But one look at her sleeping face had his resolve weakening.

“Nowhere, Nes” he had settled beside her, dropping a kiss on her forehead “Go back to sleep”

Whenever Cassian had a nightmare, he would try his best to not wake up Nesta. He did not want to bother her with his worries and fears. And somehow the Mother must have taken pity on him, because he was scarcely having any bad nights since they'd gotten married. Sure, he still had nightmares, but those made him want to rip his own heart out had stopped.

He took that as a small blessing. He would take the good nights over no dreams if that meant that the unbearable nightmares would be kept at bay.

However, Nesta was not oblivious that something preyed on her husband’s mind. She had noticed how worn out he was, how when he smiled at her and said nothing was wrong his smile did not reach his eyes.

But Nesta wanted Cassian himself to tell her what was happening. Wanted him to open his heart about what was making the circles beneath his eyes darker with each passing day without her having to dig it out of him. He had told her months ago during that hike at Illyria that she could be silent and he would be waiting for her to open up when she felt comfortable, as long as she did not shut him out. Now Nesta would do the same. She would wait beside him, offering her support however she could until he was ready to talk.

“You are unusually quiet today,” Nesta noted. They were resting on the sofa in front of the fireplace — Nesta reading a book and Cassian lying down, his head on her lap — having a quiet late evening after the training session with the Valkyries in the morning.

“Missing the sound of my lovely voice, Nes? Should I read out loud a paragraph from your book?” Cassian teased, opening an eye. He had slept poorly the night before, and the quiet sound of the embers crackling on the fireplace and his mate absentmindedly running her free hand through his hair had him battling sleep.

“No,” she closed her book, “it was merely an observation.”

Cassian closed his eyes again, smiling softly.

“Are you sure? I am certain the House would love to hear all about your newest smutty book”

The faelights flicked twice, as if agreeing with him.

“Oh hush now, you can read it after I am done with it. ” Nesta said, glaring at the ceiling “I never knew a sentient being more impatient”

Cassian laughed. At first he had been surprised when Nesta talked to the House, but he had grown used to it, even talking to It on more than one occasion.

“Do you want to move to our room?” Nesta asked, gently running her hands through his hair “it is more comfortable than the couch”

Cassian merely sighed “No, I am very comfortable like this” he turned on his side, arms circling her waist and wings dropping a little on the floor “I am afraid I will keep you hostage while I nap.”

Whatever Nesta meant to say was lost when she noticed how his breath had eased, her mate having already fallen asleep. And before she could even ask, the House flicked off the faelights, drawing shut the curtains of the room they had turned into their living room.

“Thank you,” Nesta found it quite endearing how the House had grown to care about Cassian as much as It cared about her. In the beginning, It liked to play pranks on him and even sided with Nesta whenever she and Cassian had an argument — once It locked Cassian outside and only let him in when he apologised. Over time, however, they had formed a rather close friendship.

Nesta opened her book again, turning on the small faelight that Azriel had gifted her on Solstice. She had just gotten to the juicy part and she knew that little light would not wake Cassian any time soon if the way he was softly breathing was any indication of how deeply he was sleeping.

She had read half of the book when she felt an uneasy feeling through the bond. She looked down at Cassian and saw his breathing getting uneven, his arms tightening around her waist.

“Cass?” Nesta whispered softly, setting her book aside. She could feel his fear and anguish through the bond, and it pained her that she could do nothing to ease his pain.

Cassian whimpered, and although Nesta knew better than to wake up someone having a nightmare, she could not stand to see him in such pain.

“Cassian, wake up, please” she tugged on her end of the bond, her hands cupping his face. He woke up gasping, hazel eyes huge and scared.

“A bucket,” he managed to say as he scrambled up, his breathing erratic “I need—”

No sooner had the House made a bucket appear than Cassian was on his knees, emptying his stomach. Nesta kneeled beside him, holding his hair back and rubbing his back.

“It is okay, everything is fine now” she said softly.

The House made a glass of water and a towel appear, Nesta thanking It quietly. Cassian had closed his eyes, breathing as if he had just learned how to.

“Hey,” she grabbed his face “open your eyes Cass.”

His hands came up, grabbing her wrists like he was wandering at the sea and she was his lifeline.

“That is it, just look at me” she said softly yet firmly, his scared hazel eyes meeting her blue-grey ones “Breath, Cassian.”

Nesta took a deep breath, holding it in for a few seconds before letting it go slowly. Cassian copied her, and after a few minutes his breathing had become normal again, his racing heart also slowing down.

“I am sorry,” that was the first thing he said, voice hoarse “I did not want you to see me like this”

“Nonsense,” Nesta dismissed, giving him the glass of water and making him drink it “you have seen me in much worse conditions”

“Are you ready to tell me what is going on?” she asked.

Cassian nodded his head, biding his time by taking another sip of water and using the towel to clean his mouth.

“For as long as I could remember I’ve had nightmares,” he began “There are the good nightmares and bad nightmares. The good ones usually wake me and leave me with a feeling of failure.”

Nesta remembered the nights in which she would wake up to an empty bed, Cassian going over reports — she would sit on his lap and give remarks as he went over them — or just standing on their balcony. On those nights she would go over to him and bring him back to bed.

“I am cold” she would say, and he would hug her tightly and Nesta would let him think that she did not notice how he needed the hug more than she did.

She could always feel his sadness through the bond, no matter how hard he tried to close his end of that golden thread that binds them together so intrinsically.

“And the bad ones?” Nesta quietly asked.

“The bad ones leave me like this,” he said with a self deprecating laugh “A complete and utter mess, barely functioning.”

“You have been sleeping poorly for a while now. Why didn’t you talk to me?” Cassian must have seen the hurt on her eyes, felt it through the bond, because he grabbed her hands, squeezing them.

“I am not good with words, I am sure you have noticed that,” he smiled weakly “I wish I was half as eloquent as you are.”

“You managed just fine in our wedding” she said with an arched eyebrow, and that got a real laugh out of him.

“I was inspired that day, I will admit.” he got serious again “But I think that maybe spending a lot of time being alone and angry did not help with my inability to find the right words to express what I am feeling. And to share my problems with others.”

Nesta had noticed this particular trait of Cassian, especially after she had stopped keeping him at arms lengths and had finally allowed herself to admit what she felt for him. He loved his family deeply, would put himself at risk for others in a heartbeat, would always have a happy face and joke to lighten the mood.

He cared for and about everyone, but what about him? Who did the same to him?

Nesta wanted to be the one with whom he could discard his happy mask and show a range of emotions.

“You can always talk to me Cassian,” she said “Anytime, no matter what.”

“I don't want to burden you. You already went through so much that to further worry you with something as silly as a nightmare—”

“I cannot believe you are saying this,” Nesta said, and Cassian could feel her anger and disappointment through the bond “You could never burden me and for you to even suggest otherwise—”

“I am your wife, Cassian. Your mate. If I don’t care and worry about you, who will?” she continued after taking a deep breath to calm herself “Besides, it is not a silly nightmare if it affected you this way”

Cassian stayed a few minutes quiet, mindlessly playing with her wedding band, brows furrowed in concentration.

“Another reason I was hesitant to talk to you about the nightmares is because— because now I have nightmares about you, Nes” he avoided her eyes while he talked, still focused on her hands “The good nightmares are the ones about my failures with you. Not stopping Hybern, not helping you sooner…”

Nesta’s heart almost broke when he said that. How could he think that about himself when he had been the one to tell her months ago when they visited the old shabby cottage she had lived with her family in poverty that there was nothing she could have done to stop Hybern and save her father?

“And the bad?” she asked, wishing he would look at her.

“The bad ones are about you dying in my arms. About you realising I am nothing more than a bastard born nobody, who is not deserving of even the air you breathe and then leaving to go travel the world, to marry a king from the continent or from other fae lands.” his voice got quieter, almost a whisper, as if he was afraid of telling her what he saw on those nights “Of you simply leaving me and never looking back.”

“Tonight— tonight was a bad one,” he finally looked at her and his face was so utterly wrecked with pain and desperation that Nesta wanted to tell him that she would stop his nightmares, that she would bargain with the Mother and even that blasted Cauldron to leave him alone.

“I dreamt that when Briallyn ordered me to kill I could not turn the knife on myself. So I killed you. And she got the Mask and kept reviving you so I had to kill you over and over and over again” silent tears started running down his face and her heart truly shattered.

She hugged him tight, Cassian burying his head on her shoulder.

“Shh xe nhia, I am here,” Nesta knew a few words in Illyrian, and she hoped that the use of them, the familiarity that they brought, would help Cassian “I am not leaving you. Not now and not ever”

“However, if you keep trying to spoil my books I might become Ems’ newest house mate” she joked, making Cassian laugh.

“I would be completely lost without you Nes,” he said with a weak smile.

“I know,” she tenderly brushed his cheeks, drying his tears “Promise me something?”

“Anything you desire”

“Promise me you will wake me up when you have another nightmare, be it ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Promise me you will talk to me and let me be beside you when you are in need.” she pleaded.

“I promise” Cassian kissed her cheek, gathering her in his arms and walking towards their bedroom. Reluctantly setting her down, he went to their bathroom to freshen up while Nesta changed out of her dress.

Cassian walked back in to find her wearing one his favourite sweaters.

“I had been looking for that sweater”

“You were? Funny how it ended up in my drawer. Maybe the House put it there by mistake” Nesta shrugged, knowing very well that she had been the one to steal it. She was constantly stealing Cassian’s clothes.

“You do look better on it than me, so I think I can forgive that small mishap” he said, getting under the covers and hugging Nesta close.

“I love you, Nes” he whispered in her ear “And thank you”

“I love you too, Cass,” she replied, snuggling closer to him.

And that night, for the first time in a long while, Cassian had no nightmares.

•

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bookstantrash · 3 days

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Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.” — PLEASE I CHOCKED ON AIR READING THIS LMAO HILARIOUS

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.” — I got the reference. Brilliant

Her best friends had been trying to convince her to get back out there for a month now. Even with how much time has passed since everything happened, it still feels strange. Of course, that hasn’t stopped Emerie from dragging her out to bars for trivia nights and karaoke as if they’re the best places to meet someone new. It hasn’t stopped Gwyn from trying to tempt her to start a dating profile on at least one of the plethora of app options.

It hasn’t stopped either of them from hyping her up after they spent so long helping Nesta to piece together the shattered fragments of herself, of her life, back together. It’s why Nesta loves them, why she doesn’t know what she’d do without them. — I just love my girly trio so much 😭😭

Staring at the photo of him in sunglasses and shirtless, lounging casually on some sort of boat, wide shoulders and swirling lines of ink on full display. The photo of him in a locker room, dressed only from the waist down, showing off the tantalizing lines of his abs, his v-lines. The Reel of him working out, chest heaving and skin glistening, biceps bulging with every lift of the weights. The reel of him stick handling with just gloves, in a tank and shorts, the muscles and veins of his forearms working with each flick of his wrist. — sorry, I just drooled.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?” — ooh so Feyre decided to make they meet up at her and Rhys’s party, makes sense

Nesta snorts quietly, tempted to tell him that it was wrinkled when she yanked it out of her suitcase before she awkwardly changed into it in the airport bathroom. But she never gets the chance to. Cassian lifts his hand until his fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her chin up enough that he can slot their lips firmly together. — OH OKAY ROMEO YOU ARE GOING AFTER HER WITH EVERYTHING

“Right now?” Nesta blurts out before she can stop herself. She’s certainly not opposed to the idea, but with tonight being the first time they’re meeting, she thought he might want to get to know her more first. What exactly did Feyre tell him about her? — this is going so fast for real what did Feyre say?

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?” — I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON?

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” — WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?” — CASSIAN FOR GOD’S SAKE DID FEYRE NOT SHOW YOU NESTA’S PICTURE?!

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“Look. We both know what you came here for, what you puck bunnies are always looking for, and trust me, sweetheart. I am more than happy to give it,” Cassian offers, the way his eyes dance over her frame again nothing short of a leer. It stokes the anger flaring in Nesta’s veins higher, until it burns bright and hot. — JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THAT IS WHY I HATE PROFESSIONAL ATHLETES WHO THINK SO HIGHLY OF THEMSELVES WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH CASSIAN

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs. — this is just so fucking sad. For Feyre to give Nesta so much hope and Nesta believe her and then for Cassian to have an aneurism and act like a fucking asshole

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again. — famous last words.

I’m just so curious to know:

a) why the fuck did Cassian act like such a dick

b) how many months of grovelling will it take Nesta to give him a chance to show that he’s not an actual dick because boy did he dig his own grave as deep as the pits as hell with this disastrous meet

Also, I don’t have a single idea how hockey works (girly from tropical country here) but you bet I’ll be seated for this fic.

Top Shelf Love: Prologue

A/N: So, if you know me, you know that I love hockey. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's hockey romances because they are always so inaccurate that it's take you out of the story SO QUICK! Like what do you mean the captain of this NCAA D1 team is undrafted? What do you mean she magically has access to an NHL locker-room in the middle of a game? So this is my response to that! A super self-indulgent Nessian Hockey AU. For additional hockey context: Cassian is a defenseman for the NY Rangers; Rhys is a center for the Montreal Canadiens; Az is a winger for the Nashville Predators; and Lucien is a winger for the Toronto Maple Leafs. Anyways! Hope everyone enjoys this prologue and this absolute meet-ugly! Happy final day of @nestaarcheronweek

Read on AO3 // Chapter Masterlist // Next Part

Nesta

Nesta sighs softly, tilting her head back against the leather of the seat. Almost instantly, she scrunches her nose, the stale scent of cigarettes, of sweat and previous occupants, flooding her senses. Eager for a distraction, she peers out the window instead. The skyscrapers loom like shadowed giants on either side of the road, a cascade of colorful lights spilling from their windows and reflecting off the wet roads, the puddles from the earlier rain. Throngs of bodies move along the sidewalks, neither the late hour or the dark clouds still clinging above deterring them clearly.

The city that never sleeps indeed.

The cab jerks to a stop along the curb, the driver not even bothering to turn around and say anything to her, merely tapping the fare display. With a roll of her eyes, Nesta fishes her wallet out of her purse to pay before finally slipping out of the cab. At least the driver pulls her suitcase from the trunk, setting it on the sidewalk beside her.

“Nesta! You finally made it!”

It takes everything within Nesta to swallow back down another sigh, takes all her willpower to force at least a hint of a smile to tug across her face. She can feel her earlier annoyance still simmering just beneath her skin, can still feel the exhaustion weighing down her bones. She’d give anything to be back in her own bed right now, anything to slip beneath her pile of blankets and curl up with a good book, but she’s here for Feyre, here to celebrate her baby sister.

So Nesta rolls her shoulders and plasters on an even wider smile before she turns around. But she should have known better, should have known that despite the physical distance between them, there’s no fooling her sisters. From the way Feyre raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching up in the barest hint of an unimpressed smirk, it’s clear she sees straight through Nesta.

“Sorry,” Nesta winces, her shoulders drooping already. “Journey from hell.”

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Elain offers with an easy smile, stepping forward and taking the handle of Nesta’s suitcase.

“Or five,” Feyre adds with a chuckle.

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t exactly disagree. A stiff drink definitely sounds appealing after the nightmare of the day she’s had.

“I saw online that a lot of flights were just straight canceled, so I think you’re lucky to have made it at all,” Elain comments, leading the way along the sidewalk.

“I don’t know that I’d call a six hour delay lucky,” Nesta grumbles, practically shuddering at the memory of being stuck sitting and waiting in an airport for so long.

Nesta follows her sisters inside the building, but they take the elevator down, rather than up, Elain leading the way toward a black SUV. She tells her sisters more about the horrible journey as they walk. About the surprisingly long line at security. About the storms in the midwest and the delays and havoc they wreaked on all flights. About the child that seemed determined to scream for the entire five hour flight.

Once Nesta’s bags are securely locked away in Elain’s car, they return to the elevator and take it all the way up to the eighteenth floor, the doors opening with a soft ding. There’s no stopping the way Nesta’s jaw slackens as she takes it all in. A large centerpiece extends from the floor and fans out into the ceiling, the lights embedded within it casting the entire bar and its occupants in glittering golds. Live music seems to be coming from somewhere, twining and molding with the laughter, the conversations, filling the space.

But it’s the windows that really draw Nesta’s attention. Floor to ceiling windows seem to line every wall, offering a truly panoramic view of all of New York City and the Hudson. It’s a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights and night sky through the rain droplets still clinging to the panes.

“Wow,” Nesta breathes, taking it all in. “This place is definitely nicer than I was expecting.”

“If you think this is nice, you should see their venue.”

It takes a few moments for Elain’s words to register, but then Nesta is snapping her head toward Feyre. “You have a venue already? Does that mean you’ve picked a date?”

“Yes,” Feyre answers, unable to bite back her grin. “Next summer. July specifically, after Rhys’s season has ended.”

“Don’t you think it’s a bit optimistic to think he’ll still be playing through June?”

“Elain!” Feyre exclaims, reaching out to smack the middle Archeron in the arm. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What?” Elain shrugs innocently. “It’s true. I mean what’s their current record again?”

“Because the Leafs do so well when they choke every year?”

“At least they make the playoffs.”

Nesta snorts softly at her sisters’ bickering. “Since when did you become a sports fan anyways, Elain?”

“I guess Lucien’s been filling her with more than just his dick.”

“Feyre!” Elain squeaks out, her cheeks flooding with a blush.

“Darling,” a deep voice practically purrs, interrupting them. “There you are. I was wondering where my beautiful fiancée got off to.”

“Rhys, this is my oldest sister, Nesta,” Feyre offers, sidling up against Rhys’s side, her fiancé’s arm settling over her shoulders with comfortable ease.

“A pleasure to meet you at last,” Rhys greets, holding up the glass in his free hand in a mock cheers. The gesture is a bit sloppy, some of the amber liquid in the glass sloshing over the rim and spilling across his fingers, and Nesta realizes there’s a haze to his violet eyes.

“It’s an open bar,” Feyre mouths, clearly reading Nesta’s expression.

“You don’t have a drink in your hand,” Rhys suddenly says, as though he’s only just realized. “We need to fix that immediately.”

Rhys turns on his heel, pushing his way through the various guests gathered to celebrate him and Feyre without a care. Nesta rolls her eyes, but Feyre has a wide, soft smile on her face as she watches him go, eyes practically sparking with fondness. It’s clear this is the man that makes her youngest sister happy, so she can’t fault him too much.

“He’s right, you know. You do need a drink still,” Feyre says, looping her arm through Nesta’s.

Feyre leads the way toward the bar built around the large centerpiece. She leans over and gets the attention of one of the bartenders with ease, ordering what she tells Nesta is the couple's signature cocktail. It seems to be some sort of margarita, a deep blue in color with edible glitter that looks almost like stars swirling through the liquid.

“So…” Feyre starts, taking a sip of her own drink.

“So…?” Nesta echoes, although she has a strong suspicion she already knows where this conversation is going. She knows that expression on her sister’s face all too well.

“Rhys’s brothers are here tonight.”

“And you need to stop being such a busybody.”

Feyre sighs, turning so her hip leans against the bar, facing Nesta fully. “Why? I’m an excellent matchmaker. Just ask Elain…” Feyre looks over her shoulder, but frowns, turning in a full circle with her eyebrows pinched low. “Wait. Where did Elain go?”

“She and Lucien probably found some dark corner to fuck like the bunnies they are,” Nesta answers dryly. It’s certainly the trend with those two, vanishing for a few hours before appearing again with slightly mussed clothes and hair, pink often clinging to the apples of Elain’s cheeks and a wide, shit eating grin plastered across Lucien’s face.

“That just proves my point! At least tell me you stalked his Instagram or something.”

“Emerie and Gwyn did.”

But when Feyre had suggested setting Nesta up with Rhys’s adopted brother, practically raving over the phone about what a good fit the two of them would be together, it had been like blood in the water for Emerie and Gwyn. Nesta had barely hung up with her sister by the time Gwyn had tracked down his social medias and had them displayed on the television ‘for the best viewing experience.’

Cassian Valdarez.

Any other emotions aside, Nesta can admit he’s attractive, that much was clear from the photos and videos on his Instagram. With his dark, curly hair tumbling down to his shoulders, his bright hazel eyes. He had been grinning widely in most of the photos, golden skin of his cheeks stretched and crinkles popping beside his eyes. But even the one where his lips were tugged up in a lopsided, cocksure smirk had Nesta staring.

Nesta had done a lot of staring.

“Okay, and?” Feyre’s voice draws Nesta back to the present.

“And what?”

“And what did Gwyn and Emerie think?”

Nesta sighs softly, fiddling with the stem of her glass. “I mean, they said I should go for it.”

“Ha!” Feyre exclaims, loud enough to draw the attention of a few others up at the bar. “See? I’m right. A perfect match.”

“Feyre, don’t you think—”

“Feyre, darling, I keep losing you.” Rhys slips into the space behind Feyre, wrapping an arm around her waist. He dips his head enough to press his lips to her neck before raising his gaze to peer at Nesta over Feyre’s shoulder. “Sorry. Do you mind if I steal my fiancée away for a moment?”

“Not at all,” Nesta assures him, but it’s Feyre’s gaze she meets. “I’ll be fine.”

Feyre and Rhys vanish into the crowds hand and hand, and Nesta settles at the bar, sipping her drink. Her eyes flit around, but she truly doesn’t know anyone here outside of her sisters. And despite her earlier words to Feyre, all the people, all the sounds and the lights, are starting to grate against her nerves, prickling and dragging along her skin like nails. Even downing the remains of her drink doesn’t seem to help, the alcohol only weighing heavy in her gut.

Leaving her now empty glass on the bartop, Nesta spins on her heel and stalks toward one of the walls of windows. She glances around at the different tables set up, the booths that line the windows and offer the perfect seats for the views beyond. Maybe she can find a dark corner to hide in for a few hours, or maybe, if she’s lucky, Elain and Lucien will decide they want to leave early to continue whatever they’ve started in an actual bed.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

The deep voice has a shiver skittering up Nesta’s spine, warm breath fanning across her ear. She spins around and comes face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, a cocksure smirk she’s only seen in photo-form before. Cassian Valdarez, in the flesh. He doesn’t even bother for subtly as his gaze rakes over her, and Nesta has to swallow hard as she tracks the way he licks his lips.

“And what if I wasn’t?” Nesta dares to ask, raising her chin.

Cassian chuckles, stepping closer into her space. “I think we both know you were looking for me. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Cassian’s hand reaches up in the space between them, snagging one of the stray strands of Nesta’s hair and twisting it around his fingers. Those same fingers skate down her neck, across her collarbones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch traces over her shoulder and down her arm before finally closing around her wrist, Nesta’s breath hitching at the warm of his hand, the size of it, and she can do nothing but follow along as he tugs her toward one of the booths by the windows.

He lets go long enough to fall back against the cushions, for Nesta to settle beside him, but then his hands are right back on her. This time, his palm slides against the skin above her knee, fingers teasing along the hem of her dress. His other arm stretches along the back of the booth, all but curling around her shoulders as he leans into her.

“You look gorgeous in this dress, you know.”

“But let me guess, it would look better on your bedroom floor?”

“You said it, not me, but I don’t disagree.”

The kiss takes Nesta by surprise, but it doesn’t take her long to respond. She moves her lips against his, Cassian’s grip on her chin holding her exactly where he wants her. When his tongue slips into her mouth, she moans softly, fisting a hand into the front of his shirt to keep herself steady and to keep him close.

Cassian pulls back just enough that he can murmur, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“You know what they say. No time like the present.”

“I should probably tell my sister I’m leaving then.”

Cassian’s eyes seem to glint, even beneath the low light of the bar. “Is your sister here? Does she want to join?”

Nesta is sure that she must have misheard him. “What?”

“It could be fun. Two sisters, one hockey player,” Cassian says easily, even daring to wink at her. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Nesta can do nothing but gape at him, her mind reeling with this turn in conversation, but then it hits her like a ton of bricks. “You don’t know who I am.”

Cassian chuckles again, that cocksure smirk of his never slipping for a moment. “Am I supposed to know who you are?”

“Do you even know my name?” Nesta snaps, pulling further away from him.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that, sweetheart. All that really matters is you knowing my name so you can scream it tonight.”

“You didn’t even want to ask for it before you kissed me? You don’t even want to ask for it now?”

“Wow,” Nesta scoffs, pushing up to her feet. “Fuck you.”

Nesta doesn’t even wait to hear whatever sputtering response he might give before she turns on her heel and stalks away from Cassian, pushing through bodies to put as much distance between them as she can. She’s never felt more stupid, can’t believe that she allowed Feyre to convince her that Cassian was some great guy, that the two of them would be some perfect match.

She can’t believe that she had started to believe her sister’s words, that that damned hope had started to bloom and put down roots in the gaps between her ribs.

Because of course. Of course, Cassian is just like every other guy, only thinking with the head between his legs without a single care for what happens once the sun rises. He’s exactly what Nesta expects from a professional athlete, cocky and sure of himself, expecting every girl to fall at his feet ready to worship him and suck his dick.

She finds Elain and Lucien in one of the other booths near the opposite side of windows. Elain has her legs draped across Lucien’s lap, giggling around the straw of her drink. Lucien seems to be smirking through whatever story he’s telling, his arm stretched across the back of the booth, fingers toying aimlessly with the soft brown curls of Elain’s hair.

“Can we go?” Nesta interrupts, looking between the two.

Elain blinks a few times, but then she starts nodding her head. “Of course. You’ve already had such a long day.”

Elain pushes up and to her feet, wobbling just slightly in her heels, but Lucien is there right behind her, his hands spanning across her waist to steady her. She smiles over her shoulder up at him before turning her attention to her purse, rooting around with a frown.

“Wait. Where are the keys?”

“I have them, my love,” Lucien answers, holding up the keys dangling from his fingers. He turns his attention to Nesta, offering her a wink. “Don’t worry. She’s not driving.”

Lucien slides his hand into Elain’s, leading all three of them through the party and back toward the elevators. Nesta keeps her head down as she follows behind her sister and brother-in-law, and she certainly doesn’t bother to look back. Besides, it’s not like anyone is watching her. She’s quite confident a certain hockey player has already found some other poor, unsuspecting girl to capture his attention.

And as they take the elevators all the way down to the parking garage and back to the car, she vows to herself that she’ll never think of Cassian Valdarez ever again.

—

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

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bookstantrash · 3 days

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THIS IS EVEN BETTER THAN I IMAGINED CASSIAN IS SUCH A PATHETIC CUTIE IN LOVE

Smash.

Wrong Delivery Part Two

hello and happy free day of @nestaarcheronweek !! It’s been such a blast organizing this and seeing all the amazing things everyone has created, and thank you so much to everyone who participated!!

without further ado… the long awaited part two of this fic from Nessian Week 2023. I hope you enjoy 🩵🩵🩵

Summary: Cassian returns Nesta’s package. Chaos and embarrassment ensue.

Word Count: 1.8k

✷✷✷✷✷

Cassian

When Nesta’s package had been accidentally delivered to his address instead of hers, Cassian could hardly believe his luck.

Nesta Archeron was easily the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and now he had a real excuse to talk to her for longer than fifteen seconds. He’d taken any and all excuses to talk to her over the eight months that he’d been living here, though their interactions had mostly been quick greetings that ended with her rolling her eyes at him.

Though in his book, that was definitely a win.

Cassian had been enjoying his Friday off — his favorite part about being able to set his own schedule as a personal trainer — when someone knocked at the door. Frowning as he got up, he made his way over and looked through the peephole to see a guy dressed in a UPS uniform walking away. He hadn’t been expecting any packages, but that didn’t stop him from opening the door to see a tiny black box waiting for him.

He bent down and picked it up before heading back inside, shutting the door behind him as he tried to remember the last thing he’d ordered. Maybe one of his friends had sent him something — Mor loved sending them all little gifts whenever she went on vacation — but she usually texted their group chat when she sent packages over. Maybe it was something for Azriel instead…?

Keep reading on AO3 here!

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bookstantrash · 3 days

Note

Manically laughing just thinking at the chaos that next part will bring us

If you still want funny nessian can you please do nesta hates her overly friendly neighbor cassian because no one can be that nice and one day her vibrator accidentally gets shipped to his address I can’t decide if it’s funnier if she freaks out trying to get the package back and makes him realize the package must be embarrassing or if he opens it thinking it’s his

I saw this prompt and I was immediately called to respond. I couldn't get it all finished in time, but happy day 7 of @nessianweek everyone <3 next part coming ???

Word Count: 1,835

Read on AO3 here!

✷✷✷✷✷ Nesta

When Nesta finally made it back home from her study session, she was more than ready to grab the package she’d been looking forward to for the last several days. She’d fallen down the rabbit hole on TikTok last week and had decided to order a new vibrator, and she was very much looking forward to messing around with it this weekend while her roommates were busy. Emerie would be spending her weekend at Cresseida’s place since her girlfriend didn’t have roommates, and Gwyn would be stuck at the campus library grading exams all weekend.

It was the perfect time, and Nesta planned on taking full advantage of it. Law school was stressful, okay? She deserved a nice, quick orgasm or two. Or three; who was she to limit herself when she’d have a basically empty place?

Once Nesta had gotten the notification that her package had been delivered, she’d been in a good mood for the rest of the day, and that good mood continued as she found street parking right outside her townhouse. She quickly grabbed her backpack and made her way toward her front door, more than ready to grab her package and get it inside as quickly as possible—

Only to see an empty stoop.

Nesta frowned and looked around, hoping that the little black box would magically appear. When her stoop remained empty as ever, she wondered if maybe one of her roommates had taken the package inside for her. Gwyn usually got out early from the class she was TAing for on Fridays, and as a business student, Emerie didn’t have class on Fridays. The odds were high that one or both of them were home already, so Nesta hoped one of them had grabbed her package.

“Hey,” Nesta greeted her roommates as she got inside, locking the door behind her before dumping her backpack to the ground. Gwyn was sorting through a mess of papers on one end of the couch while Emerie was folding her laundry on the other. “You two look cozy.”

“Someone’s got to be,” Gwyn replied with a smile. “How was your study group?”

“Boring,” Nesta answered. Eris had needled her into coming so he wouldn’t be by himself, and they’d spent most of it furtively rolling their eyes at one another instead of actually learning the Federal Rules of Evidence. “How was class?”

Gwyn shuddered. “All that undergrad anxiety is driving me crazy. I can’t wait until midterms are done.”

“I don’t know how you stand it,” Emerie chimed in as she folded a pair of leggings. “I’m going crazy just hearing about it.”

The three of them went back and forth for a while as they complained about the undergrads. Nesta hadn’t forgotten about her package, though, and she waited for a lull in the conversation before she asked about it.

“Random question, but did either of you see a package outside?” Nesta finally asked from where she’d settled onto the empty armchair.

“There wasn’t anything here when I got home,” Gwyn told her before turning to Emerie. “Maybe Em brought it in? She usually gets the mail.”

“I was running some errands earlier, but I didn’t see any packages when I got back,” Emerie answered. She got through the last of her laundry pile and folded the last shirt with a flourish. “There was a note from your nemesis, however.”

“He’s not my nemesis,” Nesta grumbled, momentarily distracted. She’d circle back to her missing package in a moment; she had a position to defend. “He’s just — ugh.”

Nesta’s so-called nemesis was just their extremely overeager neighbor, Cassian. He was always waving hello and doing nice things like bringing in their packages if they were outside for too long or mowing their shared strip of grass.

It also didn’t help that he was very easy on the eyes. He was tall, muscular, and had an eyebrow scar that only made him even cuter. For whatever reason, the grouchier she got, the nicer he became, and she couldn’t tell if he was fucking with her or if he was genuinely that good of a person.

“He’s just so nice,” Gwyn said, pitching her voice to mimic Nesta’s. “Something’s got to be wrong with him.”

“Like you can talk,” Nesta fired back without missing a beat. Gwyn’s face went as red as her hair as she realized where Nesta was going with this. “All that drooling you do over his roommate? Throwing stones from glass houses isn’t a good look for you.”

Cassian shared the townhouse next door with Azriel, his much broodier but just as gorgeous roommate. He was much quieter than Cassian, but he was always polite whenever Nesta ran into him. That hadn’t deterred Gwyn in the slightest from launching a one-woman campaign to befriend him, though Nesta and Emerie knew it wasn’t exactly friendship she was after.

“She’s got you there, Gwyn,” Emerie replied with a chuckle. “Maybe when both of you get your heads out of your asses, I can live in peace.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nesta responded, rolling her eyes. She wanted to circle back to her package, though, and she really hoped Cassian hadn’t done the neighborly thing even more than she usually did. “What did the note say?”

“Cresseida called me and I got distracted,” Emerie admitted sheepishly. Nesta couldn’t blame her, though; Cresseida was a knockout, and the two of them were clearly head over heels for each other. If Nesta had a girlfriend like that, she’d get distracted, too. “It’s on the table with the rest of the mail, though.”

Nesta sprung out of her seat and raced to their small dining room to look for the note. There were a few letters on the table where they normally left their mail, and she quickly pushed them aside to find the giant pink post-it Cassian had used to write his note.

Hey Nes, Cassian had written in neater handwriting than Nesta had been expecting. It didn’t stop her from scowling at his use of what he’d deemed her nickname, though. She’d told him many times that her name was Nesta, two syllables, but that hadn’t stopped him yet. Sighing, she mentally set it aside and continued reading the rest of his note.

Your package got delivered to my house, so I’m holding onto it until you get home. Feel free to come knock anytime and I’ll hand it over!

Your favorite neighbor,

Cassian

God fucking dammit. Nesta couldn’t decide whether she was thankful her package hadn’t been stolen or furious that of all people, it had to be him.

“Just my luck,” Nesta muttered.

“Does he have your package?” Emerie called from the couch.

“Yep,” Nesta called back through gritted teeth. She walked back to the living room with a grimace on her face. “He sure does.”

“Uh oh,” Gwyn replied, teasing. “You’re going to have to actually be nice to him.”

“You don’t understand,” Nesta told her. She was trying her best not to short-circuit, but it was a more difficult task than she’d been prepared for. “I — he — of all the packages he could’ve gotten by accident—”

“Oh my God,” Gwyn said, laughing at how red Nesta’s face was. “Did you order something embarrassing?”

“It’s not embarrassing,” Nesta tried to say back over the sound of Gwyn’s cackles. “It’s just private!”

“How bad could it be?” Emerie responded, attempting to behave like a reasonable adult. “I mean, it’s not like whatever you ordered says what it is on the outside, right?”

“Just tell us,” Gwyn encouraged. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”

“I got a new vibrator,” Nesta managed to get out. Gwyn let out a loud giggle that she quickly stifled once Emerie gave her a stern look. “And I have no clue what the packaging looks like other than it allegedly being… discreet.”

“Oh, this is too good,” Gwyn replied, practically wiping tears out of her eyes from how hard she’d been laughing. “Sorry, sorry, I’m done. It’s not like he’s gonna open it or anything, right?”

“Right,” Nesta tentatively agreed.

“So you just have to go over there and ask for it back like a normal person,” Gwyn continued. “Just don’t freak out. It’ll be fine!”

“Just don’t freak out,” Nesta repeated dryly. “If only I’d thought of that one before.”

Gwyn rolled her eyes. “You know what I meant, Nesta.”

“Some therapist you’ll be,” Nesta teased. Still, she knew what her friend meant, and she tried to take some deep breaths even though the idea of Cassian having her package made her want to run and hide and never make eye contact with him again. “Should I just… go over there and ask for it back?”

“That is what the note said,” Emerie said. “Do you want us to come with you?”

Nesta knew her friends were trying to help, but she didn’t need any more witnesses to what was bound to be an excruciatingly embarrassing conversation. “No. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Emerie answered, shrugging. She neatly stacked her folded laundry and managed to balance it all between her hands as she stood. “I have to finish packing for Cresseida’s, so… good luck.”

“I should probably finish getting through all this,” Gwyn said, motioning to the mountain of paper surrounding her on the couch with a heavy sigh. “But I’ve got your back! From right here.”

“You spend way too much time on TikTok,” Nesta grumbled even though she wanted to laugh.

Gwyn just grinned up at her. “Pot? Kettle?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nesta replied. She sighed and tried to steel herself, knowing she should just march over there now and get her package back before she lost all her nerve. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Good luck, Nesta,” Emerie said as she started walking upstairs where the bedrooms were. “You can do this.”

“And if not,” Gwyn added with a laugh, “you can always just order another vibrator!”

Nesta flipped Gwyn off before sliding back into her shoes and heading outside. Her friends were supportive in their own way, and she had to admit that Gwyn’s good-natured teasing had helped take the edge off.

Now that Nesta was actually walking next door, though, things were getting a little real. She had no reason to think Cassian would’ve opened her package once he’d seen her name on it, but that didn’t stop her brain from running through several worst case scenarios. What if Cassian had opened her package? What if he hadn’t seen her name on it before he’d opened it and now he knew what was in there? Worse, what if he made fun of her for it?

Logically, Nesta knew Cassian was a normal guy who probably wouldn’t do any of those things, but it didn’t stop her brain from spiraling. But still — what if?

As she raised her hand to ring the doorbell, her heart beating like a drum in her chest, she supposed there was only one way to find out.

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bookstantrash · 3 days

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you’re excused 😌

They literally won the Nobel prize for inventing romance, they’re the blue print

A/N: okay so it’s been a good while since I’ve posted anything here on tumblr but the last year has been kinda insane as I’m nearing graduation, and my new internship is keeping me very busy.

I have two more one shots written and one half written, but after that I don’t know how long till I’m able to write again and post. Either way, I hope you enjoy this one shot!

But this love is brave and wild

Nesta had not intended to snoop through Cassian’s papers. He was — if she was honest with herself — the most organised out of them. Nesta Archeron being a messy person was something that had come as a surprise to Cassian and he teased her endlessly about it.

“I can find everything I need with no problem,” she had argued once when they were laying in bed, “therefore I am not messy. My organisation method is just different from yours General ‘I Colour Code My Folders’ Archeron”

“Whatever you say Nes,” Cassian had laughed, tightening his arms around her. Her mate, she had discovered, was an incorrigible cuddler “I still love you even if you don’t believe in the practicality of keeping things in one place”

She was always leaving books and hairpins all over the House, discarding her boots after training somewhere and forgetting to take them to their room, her notes about the Valkyries, military and Mind Stilling techniques forgotten and scattered in any surface available. The House was constantly gathering and leaving them on her desk, but it usually took her two to three days until she got the courage to sort and put them away properly. Cassian’s tidy and neatly arranged papers — sorted by importance and filled with carefully written notes — made his desk a stark contrast to her mountain of spread out ones in her side of the room they had transformed into their study room.

They had learned early on that they would never be capable of doing any actual work in their own room when their bed was only a few steps away.

Not that they had not fucked in each and every surface of the House, their study included. It just made the temptation of being all over each other slightly smaller.

Nesta had entered the study and was tidying her desk after the House had made the bathtub water cold and dumped on top of her towel the papers she had forgotten at the dining table.

“I was going to get them later,” Nesta had said, and in turn the military book Cassian had lent her had fallen on the little floating table she used when she wanted to read in the bathtub. She had been meaning to return it to him for over a week, the book forgotten amid her pile of romance books on her bedside table.

“Fine,” she had added, “I got the memo, I will put them in the study.”

So Nesta had gotten dressed in a bathrobe — she had every intention of going back to a bubble bath as a reward for tidying up her things — reordered her romance book stack, and set off for the study, grabbing any paper she had forgotten along the way. She was putting his book on the shelf when she noticed that Cassian had a few papers outside his drawer, something unusual to him.

“I better at least put the paperweight on top of them,” she thought to herself. She did not want to mess up her mate’s drawers and folders in her attempt to clean his desk.

Cassian had left in a hurry after lunch to Illyria — Emerie, Balthazar and him were trying to transform an old property into an orphanage and residence for those who had no place to go. For now the plans were to see how things would go in Windhaven, and then replicate the same in other camps. Apparently some problems had arisen concerning the renovations and he had left to sort things out. That explained why his space was uncharacteristically ‘messy’ for his standards.

Nesta lined his pens and was stacking the papers in a pile when one in particular caught her eye. Most of them were reports regarding Illyria or the Valkyries training plans, but the small piece of paper full of bullet points and notes scribbled in a hurry was neither.

“Is this a checklist of some sorts?” she mumbled to herself, reading it. If it was, Nesta could not make sense of it, for there were sometimes only a page number and an acronym in the same bullet point — “pg. 43, UTOT” — or phrases and even single words thrown around that made no sense — “ smell of rain”, “traditional dances”, “unicorns”, “pudding”, “peppermint”, “braids” and so on.

The list intrigued Nesta. Maybe Cassian was playing scattergories or some other game with Azriel or Gwyn again and had forgotten to throw it away. Nesta and Emerie had since long ago given up on playing with them — their competitive streak when combined was insufferable, and both girls had decided they would rather discuss their latest read than go through a discussion if “ice” could be considered a colour or not — but Cassian kept playing. According to him their bickering was amusing to watch despite the chances of him winning being rare.

Nesta wondered if Cassian had other lists somewhere, if together they could help her make sense of what they were exactly. She would have to ask him when he came back — which she hoped happened soon. It was almost time for dinner, and they always had their meals together. When they had an assignment that did not require them to stay more than a day away — Nesta had accepted the position of emissary, although she chose which places she wanted to go and with who she wanted to work with, not to say that it gave her a chance to travel for free — they always tried to come back in time to share meals together. And Cassian had also promised to bake a cake for her, nevermind they lived in a magical house who could do it itself.

So Nesta returned to her bubble bath, the hot water making her sigh with pleasure. A book appeared on her floating table moments later.

“Is this your way of saying ‘good job’ for organising my things?” she asked the House, which made a peppermint tea appear too.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and the faelight near the sink glowed brighter, as if it was saying ‘you’re welcome’.

Nesta ended up staying in the bath until her fingers resembled an old lady’s and she had finished her book. It was now late afternoon and no sight of Cassian. She debated starting another book, but she knew it would make her miss her mate even more. She always pictured him as the love interest in her novels.

“Pull yourself together,” Nesta said to herself “it has been less than a day. It is not like we have to be attached to each other all the time”

Truth to be told, Nesta had become rather clingy when it came to Cassian — not as much as him, she doubted there existed someone as affectionate and tender as her mate — but after their mate and wedding ceremony she found herself more comfortable expressing her feelings. She enjoyed having lazy days where she and Cassian would stay near the fireplace — either reading or just talking — or when Cassian would try and teach her how to cook — she now managed to not burn bread but that was it. He was always touching her — a hand on the small of her back, a brush of his hand against hers when he was passing her food, intertwining their legs when they were laying down, flicking her nose when she got annoyed at him… it seemed impossible for him to keep his hands to himself. And that did not bother Nesta at all. In fact, she loved it, and she had realised that she had denied herself of love and made herself so touch starved for so long that now that she could bask in it she was becoming greedy.

For her utter annoyance, Cassian did not return in time for dinner. Nesta ended up going to Feyre’s house to have dinner, and the sight of Nyx — who had just begun to walk — cheered her up a little, as did the chocolate cookies Elain had baked, although she could not help but think about the chocolate cake she had been promised.

Cassian ended up arriving at the House very late into the night, finding Nesta on their bed buried beneath furs, even with the fire lowly crackling in the hearth.

“Hello Nes,” Cassian greeted his mate the second he stepped inside their room, leaving a kiss on top of her head to not interrupt her reading.

“You are late,” was all she said, turning a page. She had ended up choosing one of his war texts to keep herself busy, but his scrawled notes on the margins of the pages did not help her longing.

“I am sorry sweetheart,” he kneeled on the floor beside their bed, taking her free hand on his and playing with her wedding band “Things at Windhaven took longer to resolve than I had intended and Emerie and Balthazar wanted to go over some new plans”

“What can I do to make you forgive me?” Cassian kissed her fingers, giving her his best puppy eyes.

“For starters you can take a bath,” Nesta wrinkled her nose at the dried mud on his boots “And dry your hair properly, I would rather not have you winning about feeling sick later”

“As you wish, Lady Death. Even if the idea of being bedridden and having you take care of me is very tempting” he said with a wink “I will leave you to your book in the meantime.”

Cassian came back less than ten minutes later, leathers gone in favour of soft cotton pants and no shirt, drying his hair with a towel.

“Bath taken and dirty boots have been put away,” he declared, placing the towel on a chair — the House vanishing it moments later — and grabbing a comb.

He sat beside Nesta on the bed, not having to say anything, only extending the brush in her direction. It had become natural to care for each other’s hair. Nesta still remembered the day she had asked her mate for help with the pins keeping her braid in place, Cassian almost falling in his rush to get to her. He had tenderly taken each one out, massaging her scalp later and carefully brushing her hair.

And the next time they had taken a bath together he had grabbed the shampoo to wash her hair before she could even move. Nesta had almost fallen asleep in the tub with the way he gently shampooed and rinsed her hair. Cassian had confessed to her one day that he had an unhealthy obsession with her hair.

“Oh I know,” she had said with a small secretive smile “I see how you look at me when I am braiding it”.

She also remembered the first time he had ever seen her with her hair down and had called it beautiful, making her blush furiously. And since he began taking care of it Nesta could swear that it had gotten stronger and shinier.

Considering how silky and shiny his hair was, it did not surprise her at all.

Nesta, it turned out, also had an unhealthy obsession with her mate’s hair.

She enjoyed washing and combing it, be it after a bath or after he had come back from a flight from somewhere. She enjoyed learning new braids to braid his hair, especially now that Emerie was teaching her traditional Illyrian hairstyles. She had gotten interested after she saw his hair for their wedding-mate ceremony.

“The Illyrans take great pride in their rituals,” Emerie had told her during the party after the ceremony “Back when we were constantly at war, many years ago during Enalius time, the wives of the warriors would braid tokens of good luck and protection for their husbands. Those with long hair also asked them to apply that pattern to their hairstyle, and we integrated in our culture the costume of different braid patterns depending on the occasion: wars, festivals and ceremonies such as burials and weddings”

“The hairstyle Cassian has now is the common braid style used at wedding ceremonies at Windhaven” Emerie had given her a soft smile “Cassian has no living female relatives, so he asked me to do it for him. I’ve never seen him sit so still for so long”

“Could you teach me?” Nesta had asked, feeling shy all of a sudden “I would like to learn them all so I can braid his hair… and our children’s when the time comes.”

“Of course,” her friend had said, and now whenever they had time Emerie would teach her.

Nesta slowly unknotted Cassian’s hair, and by the way he sighed she knew it would not take long for him to fall asleep.

“All done,” she declared, placing the comb near her book on the bedside table.

“Thank you, Nes” he said, slipping under the furs. He intertwined their legs, hugging her close to himself and burying his face on her neck.

Nesta sighed, instantly feeling warmer. Cassian was like a walking furnace, and even without a shirt he was way warmer than her.

“Am I forgiven now, xe nhia?” he asked, nuzzling her neck “I have bathed, dried my hair and am now fulfilling my duties as your personal Illyrian heater.”

“Perhaps.” she ran her fingers over his arm wrapped around her “You do own me a cake, which I was looking very forward to”

“What if I also made you pudding,” he began trailing kisses over her shoulder “would you like that xe r-endy?”

The terms of endearment in Illyrian made her feel so warm and giddy that Nesta almost let slide one word Cassian had said: pudding.

It was one of the words written on that piece of paper, and now she had the perfect opportunity to ask about it.

“Funny of you to ask me about pudding,” she began nonchalantly “I read something about it today”

“You did?” she could hear the surprise in his voice “Please tell me you were not attempting to cook, we all know how it went last time”

“I set fire to the kitchen one time and you never let it go,” she ruffed with annoyance “No, I did not attempt to cook. But I did find a rather interesting and confusing list with the word pudding on it.”

“What,” Cassian raised his head from her shoulder, and Nesta turned around on his arms to look at him.

“I was tidying up my things when I noticed your desk was uncharacteristically messy. I had only planned to put a paper weight on your papers to hold them down but I ended up reading your list,”

“I am sorry if I did not respect your privacy,” Nesta added in a rush, afraid Cassian might get angry “I did not mean to pry but my curiosity got the better of me and I ended up reading it.”

“I am not mad xe nhia,” Cassian said with a soft smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “You are free to read any and all papers I have. I have nothing to hide, especially from my mate.”

“I am just embarrassed. That is all” he added, and she could see a faint blush dusting his light brown skin.

“Why would you be embarrassed?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Because,” he took a deep breath “that was one of the lists I made of topics I wanted to talk with you about. Ever since I met you back when you were human and I used to collect the queen’s letters from you, ever since then I would think of fake conversations and scenarios, building entire conversations inside my head so I could impress you with my comebacks.”

“So that time you stayed circling the house for ten minutes…” she inquired.

“I was compiling a list of chosen insults to throw your way, responses to an invented argument” he groaned, hiding his face on her shoulder “Like a complete fool.”

“You did this back when I was human?” Nesta asked, her love for her big kind hearted mate growing impossibly bigger.

“I never stopped, which might make me even a bigger fool than I was back then,” he admitted, face still hidden “Even after that, when you were Made and I used the excuse of exercising my wings to come and see you, and being together with you felt both so close yet so far given the circumstances”

“Cassian…”

“And even later, when we started living at the House and you were going through so much, trying to get better… I kept coming up with them. Topics I wanted to discuss with you, when we were together but not together. When it was just sex, and I was willing to take whatever you gave me because a little of your time, a little of you, was infinitely better than nothing at all.”

“Conversations we could have had, that I wanted us to have. Issues that I wanted to get your opinion on, if only I was not such a coward. It was always so difficult— I was so scared of ruining whatever I had managed to build with you, of losing you forever” he sighed, finally raising his head “I kept all of them. All of the lists. And I keep finding new things I want to talk with you about and since we got together it seems the list never stops growing. As if I am making up for the time lost, because now we do have that time”

Nesta did not know what to say in answer to that. Sometimes, when she had a bad day and felt like the old bitter and angry Nesta — the one who drowned her problems in alcohol and refused to let herself feel anything good at all — she had to remind herself that she was deserving of the love she had now. That she was deserving of her sisters — the old and the new ones — and of her friends and family.

That she was deserving of such a good male like Cassian. Her mate, her husband, her friend and her family.

“You can laugh if you want,” Cassian said, sounding a bit nervous about her reaction “Cauldron knows I must sound like a madman creating make believe arguments”

“Why would I laugh when my mate loves me so much that he cannot help but think of me literally every single moment?” Nesta arched an eyebrow, letting all of her love and adoration for him shine through their bond.

“What you just said is book love interest level, Cassian” she kissed him, burying her hands in his hair “I would be a fool to laugh.”

Nesta could see the relief in his eyes and she smiled. “You can ask me anything you want to know, anytime. Especially if it means you will cook more sweets for me, xe porang termireco”

Cassian groaned, rolling them so his weight pressed her down deliciously.

“You will be the death of me, Lady Death” he whispered, nipping at her ear.

“I thought you were tired from your flight” she breathed as he started kissing her neck.

“You know what you speaking Illyrian does to me,” he argued, “especially when you call me your handsome husband ”

And Nesta made sure to call him plenty of things in Illyrian in the next hours, both of them falling asleep only when the sun was rising.

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bookstantrash · 3 days

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that Taylor gif is the highest form of compliment ever, thank you 🥺🫶🏻