nessianweek - Tumblr blog

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

Barbarian Bat: Part Two

A/N: It is sadly the last day of @nessianweek but I have had so much fun writing lots of fics and reading lots of fics! And I want to thank everyone for reading part one of this silly little AU earlier this week. Hopefully, you all enjoy part two, and I'm hoping to update with part three soon. :)

Previous Part // Read on AO3

The trek through the snow is awkward and quiet, Cassian leading the way and Nesta trailing behind, trying to keep up with his long, easy strides. He slows to a stop each time that Nesta’s steps trip up, each time her foot sinks too deep, but he doesn’t turn back to look at her. He merely waits for her to regain her footing, to dig her snowshoe out, and then they continue on through the dark and the mountains of white.

If the entire journey to the spaceship is going to be this way, Nesta isn’t sure how much longer she’ll be able to take before her anger and annoyance really get the best of her. She remembers taking the journey once before, when all the women were given the knowledge transfer so they would understand the language the sa-khui spoke. It had taken almost a day between the spaceship and the main cave that they now call home. A day of awkward silence. A day of this tense energy that’s thrumming in the air between them. A day of her stupid khui vibrating and singing away, the damned thing still not shutting up.

As they walk, Nesta looks around, trying to recognize any landmarks from that previous journey, but everything on this planet looks the same. It’s all endless waves of white, snow reaching as far as the eyes can see in every direction. It’s only broken up by the strange bushes on this planet, by the purple and pink wispy stalks that are meant to be some kind of trees.

Perhaps she’s seen that particular cluster of trees before?

But any familiarity Nesta swears by vanishes as she takes in the rocky cliff face they’re walking toward. Under the pale light of the two moons, the snow covered rocks look especially looming and ominous, like sleeping giants waiting to wake, to rise. It has a shudder skittering up Nesta’s spine, and she hurries her steps enough to stick close to Cassian’s side as he walks parallel to the cliff face.

He makes it about halfway along the cliff face before coming to a stop before some sort of small opening, the abruptness of it almost sending Nesta careening into his back. She scowls and glares at his shoulder blades as she almost trips over her own feet, her snowshoes sinking deeper with her effort to stop quickly. She doesn’t let up even when Cassian finally turns over his shoulder and looks at her again, letting him feel and see all of her ire.

“Stay here,” Cassian tells her before slipping through the opening between the rocks, a cave Nesta realizes. He doesn’t stay inside for long, stepping back out into the night and gesturing with his hand for her to enter. “It is safe.”

But Nesta doesn’t move. She stays rooted to the spot and crosses her arms across her chest. “I thought you were taking me to the Elder Cave.”

“It is too dangerous to travel that far at night. We will rest here then continue the journey at first light.”

“How do I know you’re even taking me to the Elder Cave? That this isn’t some trick where you pretend to go along with what I want.”

Cassian’s eyebrows dip low at the accusation, his mouth pinching as he crosses his own arms. “Do you not trust me?”

“No,” Nesta answers matter-of-factly, unable to stop her scoff even if she wants to. “Human men, those weird green alien men, the basketball head alien men, even giant blue alien men… you’re all the same. You’re all just men.”

It’s more information than Nesta means to share, a part of herself that she hadn’t meant to hand over so easily. She’s never been good at any type of openness, any type of vulnerability. She’s always preferred claws and masks and armor. Snap and snarl now, and no one will ever ask questions later. Push someone out the door, and they never have the opportunity to leave.

But Cassian has always seen through her every defense, her every wall, ever since she stepped on this godsforsaken planet. She feels it now as Cassian’s eyes sweep over her frame, stripped bare, every crack, every nick, every bruise to her soul on full display. It’s as though he’s cataloging her every expression, tucking each reveal from her away.

“Give me their names, then,” Cassian finally speaks.

“What?” Nesta whispers, blinking in confusion.

Cassian steps closer to her, the breeze carrying with it the heat that always seems to radiate from him, the scent of low burning embers and what Nesta has always sworn was pine. He’s close enough that Nesta has to tilt her head back to continue to meet his gaze, a fire practically blazing across his expression. His hand reaches up in the space between them, a whisper of his touch skating along her cheek, before he seems to think better of it. His fingers curl back into his palm, hands settling into fists at his sides instead.

“Give me the names of these men that have hurt you, and I will find a way to hunt them down, to shatter every bone in their bodies for ever laying a finger on you.”

The declaration has Nesta swallowing hard, even as her traitorous heart skips a beat between her ribs, even as her khui starts singing again. “Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

“Then I will make a promise that I can keep. I will never hurt you, Nesta. I swear it,” Cassian says, pressing a hand to his chest, to where his own khui answers.

He says the words with such conviction, with such earnestness on his face, that Nesta doesn’t know how to respond. Words tangle on her tongue, clogging the back of her throat and battling with the emotions swirling like a storm in her chest until all she can do is try desperately to breathe around them. There’s no stopping that cold and cruel voice whispering in the back of her mind, digging its claws in with doubt and hesitation. Even if she wants to believe him, even if she wants to speak those words, she’s been burned too many times. She knows exactly how this will play out in the end. So she merely presses her lips together, wraps her arms tightly around herself like that will help hold herself together.

Cassian sighs softly at her extended silence. “If it will make you more comfortable, I can stay outside the cave for the night.”

“I thought you said it was dangerous. Snow-cats and all that,” Nesta reminds him before chewing at her bottom lip and turning away from his piercing gaze. “It’s fine.”

Before she can change her mind or take the words back, she ducks down and steps into the cave. It’s certainly small, clearly meant to just house a single hunter for the night. There’s a designated area for a fire, and when Nesta squints through the dark, she spies a few supplies like fuel and spare spears tucked neatly along the far wall. The way the walls seem to press in around her has Nesta’s hackles raising, especially when Cassian steps inside just behind her with his tall frame and wide shoulders, but she takes a deep, steeling breath, refusing to give in to those swirling shadows within her.

She spots where Cassian set down their packs, and she cuts across the small space to them, more than happy to have something to do with her hands. She unties her furs from her own pack first, unrolling them out across the cave floor and straightening them how she likes. She chances a glance over her shoulder, watching as Cassian strikes flint to start a fire.

An orangey glow flickers to life in the cave, casting shadows and shapes across the walls and floor. The firelight bounces off the dark strands of Cassian’s curls, his hair pulled back and tied off with a leather strap. It draws emphasis to his horns, to the plates and ridges on his arms and the way they shift along with his flexing muscles. Nesta finds herself tracing the dark colored lines and swirls across his blue skin, Cassian one of the few sa-khui with tattoos.

As if he can feel her attention on him, Cassian turns his head, meeting her gaze. Nesta is quick to snap her own head back around, swallowing down the heat threatening to creep up her neck, the way her heart skitters and skips for a moment. She grabs for Cassian’s pack to distract herself, untying his furs and laying them out in what little space remains of the cave floor.

“You should try and get some sleep,” Cassian’s voice breaks the quiet. “If we want to leave for the Elder Cave at first light.”

Nesta knows that he’s right, so she takes a moment to tug off her boots and her various outer layers of leathers, damp from the cold and the snow, and rests them near the fire so they can dry. It leaves her in just the long, loose leather tunic she wears beneath, her legs exposed. She can feel Cassian’s gaze on them, goosebumps prickling across her skin in the wake of his attention, so she quickly slips beneath her furs.

She burrows deep into them, tugging the furs up and around her shoulders as she turns to face the cave wall. Nesta has never done well in the cold. Back on earth, she always kept her thermostat higher than most during the winter months, always had plenty of blankets on her sofa to pile on when she curled up with her books.

And of course now she’s stuck on a planet literally covered in snow.

Even with the furs wrapped tight around her, even with the heat of the fire, Nesta can’t help but shiver. She nearly jumps out of her skin when another layer of furs is gently placed atop her. She cranes her head enough to watch Cassian move away and back to the space where she had laid out his own furs earlier, her lip finding home between her teeth.

“Won’t you be cold now?” Nesta dares to ask, fingers toying with her now extra furs.

“I will be fine. I have slept in worse conditions,” Cassian dismisses, getting comfortable against the cave floor. “Go to sleep, Nes.”

Nesta sighs softly but she rolls back over and tries to get comfortable herself. She watches the way the shadows flicker and dance across the stone of the cave wall from the fire, and tries to focus on emptying her mind. This whole night has already been bad enough, and the last thing she needs is another round of nightmares to make things even more awkward between her and Cassian. She squeezes her eyes shut and keeps her breathing a steady in and out, in and out, until finally the blissful darkness sweeps her away.

~ * * * ~

Nesta blinks her eyes open slowly, sniffling softly as she rubs at them and tries to reorient herself. It takes her a moment to remember where she is, to remember the events of the previous night. Resonating with Cassian. Making the trek to this hunter cave. She presses a hand against her chest, but her stupid khui is surprisingly silent.

With a quiet huff, Nesta sits up, rubbing at her arms against the chill. A glance around the cave tells her that the fire has banked to just embers. It also tells her that she’s alone in the cave, Cassian nowhere to be seen. That fact has Nesta frowning, and she scrambles out of her furs, grabbing her now dried clothes and yanking them back on. She heads for the cave opening and the privacy screen still in place, her anger already beginning to spark at her supposed escort being MIA.

“Ho,” Cassian’s voice sounds from outside, and Nesta freezes. That’s the greeting the sa-khui use with one another, which means…

“Ho,” another voice answers, followed by the sounds of footsteps in the snow coming closer.

“I am surprised to see you out on the trails so early,” Cassian comments.

“I wish that I came with good news,” the other sa-khui explains. Azriel’s voice Nesta realizes. “Rhys is furious. He has accused you of stealing the human female to force resonance.”

Shit. That’s definitely not good news. Rhysand had made it very clear to the tribe about how the women who had crashed on the planet here were to be treated, had set very firm rules and very strict punishments. If he thought Cassian had kidnapped her, that meant he could banish Cassian from the tribe. And it would be all her fault. Guilt churns in Nesta’s gut, and she squeezes her eyes shut to try and fight off the wave of sickness.

Cassian lets out an annoyed huff. “I did not do that. You were there.”

“I know. Luckily, when I told them what had happened, how she tried to leave on her own and you tried to stop her, that you went with her to ensure she was safe, Feyre was not surprised. She said that her sister would do something like that, and many in the tribe agreed. They do call her the stubborn one. The scary one.”

“Do not call her that,” Cassian all but growls, his tone fierce.

Azriel lets out a pained gasp as though he’s been shoved hard, a moment passing before he speaks again. “I am sorry, brother. I know that you have a soft spot for her.”

“She is hurting. It is very clear. I do not know why no one else can see it.” Cassian sighs, his voice dropping quiet enough that Nesta has to lean even closer to the privacy screen to hear him. “I just wish to help her.”

His words, the unwavering sincerity of his tone, they have Nesta’s chest tightening, her traitorous heart skipping between her ribs. None of the men back on earth ever spoke of her like that, least of all when they thought she couldn’t hear them. She’ll never forget the words she overheard in school. The words Tomas would sneer with his friends behind her back.

Cassian barely even knows her, and still he defends her, still he declares how he wants to help, and he says it all without an ounce of doubt, without any hesitation. It has something suspiciously like hope threatening to bloom and take root within her, tying like a golden thread tighter around her heart and flooding warmth through her veins. Nesta tries to swallow hard around the feeling, around the way it thrums and purrs.

She realizes too late that it’s actually her stupid khui thrumming, realizes too late that the sound gives away the way she’s practically pressed up against the privacy screen and obviously eavesdropping. She scrambles away and to the other side of the cave, knocking her elbow back against the stone wall in her haste. She slumps down to the floor, curling her knees up tight to her chest as if smothering her khui will make it shut up.

“Do not worry,” Cassian’s voice startles her, and she snaps her head toward the cave entrance just in time to watch him slide the privacy screen back into place behind him. “I have made Azriel swear not to tell anyone about our resonance.”

“Thanks,” Nesta mutters; although her khui starts singing anew. Whether touched by the gesture or in protest, she’s not sure.

“But Rhys and Feyre have demanded we return right to the main cave when we are finished at the Elder Cave.”

“Okay…”

Cassian opens his mouth as though he intends to say something more, an emotion passing across his expression that Nesta can’t quite pinpoint, but he seems to think better of it. With a shake of his head, he settles near what remains of the fire, placing the quill-beast in his hand down in front of him. He tugs a knife free from his belt, skinning the small animal with practiced ease and slicing the meat.

“I’m not hungry,” Nesta tells him when he places a few pieces on the meat atop the embers to cook.

Cassian’s grip on his knife tightens, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I do not believe you. You need to eat, Nes.”

“You said we would leave at first light for the Elder Cave.”

“I will not escort you until you have eaten something first.”

“Fine,” Nesta snaps, turning to yank her furs close enough that she can begin rolling them up. “I don’t need you anyways. I never asked you to escort me. I’ll go to the Elder Cave by myself.”

“Good luck finding your way,” Cassian drawls.

When Nesta finishes securing her furs to her pack, when she finally turns to look at him again, Cassian is smirking. It’s a challenge if she’s ever seen one. They both know she doesn’t know where she’s going, both know she’d just end up wandering aimlessly through the snow. It has her bristling, has her eyes narrowing as a scowl twists across her face. With a frustrated huff, she tosses her pack to the side.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”

Cassian’s smirk morphs into a full blown grin at the retort, and he picks up one of the now cooked pieces of meeting, holding it out in offering. “Not nearly as much as since you have come into my life, but do not worry. I like it.”

Nesta snorts, but she scoots closer to take the meat. “You like when I insult you?”

“I like this game we play. I like the way your eyes blaze. The pink that floods your skin here…”

Cassian’s hand reaches up between them as though to demonstrate exactly where he means, but his fingers just barely brush the skin of Nesta’s cheek before he freezes. Just that single, simple contact has a shiver skating up Nesta’s spine, has her breath hitching in her lungs. She can’t tear her gaze away from his, from the way his glowing eyes seem to bore straight through her. She swears she can feel the energy crackling in the space between them, just as surely as she can hear both their khuis singing away.

But Cassian seems to jolt back to himself, clearing his throat awkwardly and dropping his hand back down to his side. He turns his attention away from Nesta, focusing back on cutting the rest of the quill-beast meat up and popping the pieces into his mouth. Nesta nibbles on her own piece of cooked meat, trying to will her still thundering heart to calm.

“That sort of makes you a creep, you know,” Nesta finally comments. “Noticing all that. It’s almost like you admitting to watching me all the time.”

The comment draws a soft laugh from Cassian, and he offers her a sidelong smirk. “I cannot be blamed for always wanting to watch you. You are the most beautiful female I have ever seen.”

“Wow,” Nesta drawls sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “Does that line work on all the females you’re interested in?”

“The only female I am interested in is you.”

The words have Nesta swallowing hard and she tosses her last remaining bite into the fire. “I’ve eaten now. Are we going to the Elder Cave or not?”

Any good natured teasing between them, any hint of returning to the way things were before their resonance, it crashes around Nesta in the blink of an eye. Cassian’s smirk falls away, his entire expression hardening again. He shoves his knife back into his belt with enough force that she winces, but he pushes to his feet and begins to move about the cave, using snow to put out the embers of the fire and grabbing his and her packs.

Nesta can do nothing but pull back on her cloak and boots, can do nothing but follow him back out into the snow and biting wind. The two suns shine high above in the sky, but with their small size and pale light, they provide almost no relief against the cold, and Nesta wraps her arms tight around herself, just barely holding off a shiver. If Cassian notices, he doesn’t say anything. He shoulders both of their packs, letting out a sound somewhere between a grunt and a grumble, and then they’re off.

If Nesta thought that their trek the night before was terrible, it’s nothing compared to the rest of the journey. They hike in silence, Nesta trudging through the snow just behind Cassian. By the time the Elder Cave comes into view, Nesta has never been more happy to see that stupid spaceship, her chest heaving from the steady exertion. Cassian pauses just outside the large, main door and ramp that acts as the entrance, his shoulder tensing for a moment before he lets out a breath.

“I will wait out here for you,” Cassian offers, not even meeting Nesta’s gaze. “I am sure you do not wish for our khuis to give away our resonance.”

“Good idea,” Nesta murmurs quietly.

Nesta offers Cassian one last look, but the sa-khui male keeps his gaze firmly on the line of trees around them, his arms crossed over his chest. With a soft sigh, she walks up the ramp and steps inside the large main room of the spaceship. She finds just Jurian sitting around the fire, skinning what appears to be a hopper. He looks up when Nesta enters, but doesn’t say anything. There’s always been a strange, almost unsettling, wildness to Jurian, especially since he spent so little time with the main tribe. It has Nesta keeping her distance rather than stepping closer.

“Is Vassa here?” Nesta asks, refusing to back down from the way Jurian’s eyes narrow, the sa-khui male still slow to trust anyone outside his mate.

Jurian still doesn’t say anything, but he lets out a quiet grunt and turns his eyes toward the door that leads deeper into the spaceship. The meaning is clear enough. With a quiet thanks, Nesta heads through the doorway and into the winding hallways. She steps around holes in the floor, making sure to give a wide berth to any crumbling walls and crushed doors, and follows what sounds suspiciously like someone singing a Taylor Swift song.

When she turns around another corner, Nesta finally locates Vassa, the redhead toying with the wires of some sort of panel in the wall. Vassa pauses what she’s doing when she hears Nesta, but her friendly smiling of greeting morphs into a confused frown when she glances over Nesta’s shoulder and finds the rest of the hall empty.

“Nesta? What are you doing here? Did a whole group come?”

“Just me,” Nesta explains, raising her chin and straightening her spine. “I came to use the medical machine.”

Vassa’s eyes sweep over her, confusion growing. “Medical machine? For what?”

“That’s none of your business. I just need to use it, okay?”

“Well, if it was working, which it isn’t, I would need to program it to do what you need.”

The world seems to stop spinning beneath Nesta’s feet, everything crashing down around her as she swallows hard. “The medical machine isn’t working?”

“It started smoking the last time I tried turning it on, so definitely wouldn’t recommend climbing in there,” Vassa explains with a shrug. “I might be able to fix it, but it’s probably going to take awhile since I don’t exactly have a manual handy, so if you need something super urgently? Not happening.”

Nesta lets out a quiet, defeated scoff, closing her eyes and tilting her head up toward the sky. This can’t be happening. This cannot be happening to her. She’s not sure what sort of grievances she must have committed in another life, why the Mother has apparently seen fit to issue this sort of punishment, but it’s clear the gods are laughing at her now. Bile starts to claw its way up her throat, and she swallows hard around it, shoves down the panic threatening to well up in her chest. With trembling fingers, she pulls out the IUD from the small pocket in her clothes.

“Is that…” Vassa starts, leaning closer to see. She glances up at Nesta’s face, as if looking for confirmation, before letting out a bright laugh. “Come on. Your periods can’t be that bad that you need an IUD still. Our khuis help with that now. Besides, that was probably keeping you from resonating. Now you can have a hunky alien husband like Jurian.”

“So what?” Nesta snaps, her temper beginning to flare at this turn of events. “You won’t help me then?”

Vassa sighs, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. “I can try and fix the medical machine, but just know that it probably won’t make much of a difference. Our khuis are living organisms, remember? Now that it knows how to push your IUD out, it will just do it faster the next time.”

Nesta hates that she’s right. Hates that it’s a fact she’s been pointedly ignoring since she first realized what had happened back at the main cave. A fact she’s been running from since she resonated with Cassian. But there’s no more running, no more denying, and there’s certainly no reversing it.

Vassa keeps speaking, her lips moving as she says something else, but Nesta doesn’t hear a word of it. She doesn’t hear anything over the ringing that takes up home in her ears, over the rushing and pounding of her blood. She clenches her hands into fists, her nails biting into the skin of her palm, but it does little to help ground her. Already, she can feel herself spiraling, falling down beneath the crushing waves until it hurts to breathe, until she’s sure that she’s going to drown and no one will hear her scream.

It’s like an out of body experience, like being on the outside looking in, as numbly, Nesta turns on her heel. As she walks back through the winding halls of the spaceship. As she walks out through the entrance and into the sun and the snow beyond. As she walks and walks and walks. She doesn’t know where she’s going, where she will go, but Nesta knows one thing with absolute certainty.

She needs to get out.

—

Updated 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 @isterofimias @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

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

67 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

@nessianweek | Day 07: Free Day

After living with a bookworm you'll soon discover there is no such a thing as having enough books, Cass.

Art by: lumie.art

Commissioned by: @melphss

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

2K notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Note

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.

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

91 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

Crimson Blade - Part One

Summary: When Paris-based Feyre stops contacting their London home, Nesta engages private detective Cassian to investigate. The truth turned out to be much bloodier than she ever expected.

OR a vampire Cassian and human Nesta Victorian love story

Rating: M, for vampire shenanigans

WC: 4k

Read on AO3

A/N: Happy Nessian Week everyone!🩷🩷🩷

This fic is written for @nessianweek Day 7: Free Day and is part two of my Victorian Vampire series. Part one is Crimson Starlight, a artist Feyre and vampire Rhysand love story. While I would love for you to read Crimson Starlight first, I tried my best to make this fic capable of standing on its own.

Enjoy!

It starts with a letter. Or in this case, two letters.

The two letters in question lie on the table, unaware of the intense scrutiny they are receiving from two sisters. One is addressed to both Nesta and Elain in the familiar scrawl of their third sister, Feyre, while the one was scrawled elegantly in address to Elain. For a moment, nobody moves. Though Nesta can feel Elain's indecision, familial concern warring with personal excitement. Nesta picks up Feyre's letter and jerks her head at the other.

Hiding a smile, she sees her sister carefully tearing with guarded excitement into her letter as her own eyes scan the contents of her sister's letter.

It has been more than a month since Feyre had last written to her sisters from Paris. When Feyre moved to the France capital to pursue her artistic dreams nearly four months ago, she sent regular letters to Nesta and Elain. The letters were by no means the most affectionate or the most frequent (about two to three a month) but they were perfunctory to say the least. They let her know that Feyre is safe and doing well.

Nesta feels the worry ebb from her chest a little as she finishes the contents of the letter. Next to her, Elain folds the letter and places it back into the envelope. Her spine is straight and her movements are controlled and precise, unreadable to anyone who isn't her sister. "Good news?"

Elain simply shrugs, "You first. How's Feyre?"

"She is doing well. She apologises for the late letter, saying she was selected to exhibit at the World Fair and was focused on that."

Elain's answering beam is bright like the sun's, "World Fair! That's amazing. Although a little word would have been nice."

Nesta nods, her shoulders raising slightly in a silent, resigned expression. Feyre has always been passionate. She proceeds to gesture to the envelope still clutched tightly in Elain's hand, "So, good news?"

The middle Archeron's head bobs as a spark enters her eyes, "The Vanserras agreed to take me on as their landscapist. They would cover all training and living expenses as I shadow their current staff." She trails off.

Sensing the hesitation, Nesta asks, "But?"

She nibbles on her lower lip slightly, "It would be a live-in job at their country estate for the first couple of weeks before I get transferred to take care of their London townhouse."

Nesta smiles. Leave it to Elain will worry about a small thing like leaving her sister alone in the city that pretty much grew up in, "Go, it's just a few weeks. Imagine how much reading I can get done."

Nesta frowns as her attention gets snagged by maroon spots on Feyre's letter. She brings the paper closer to observe the spots, completely missing what Elain has been saying.

"Nesta!"

She snaps her head up, "What?"

Elain's brows are creased in worry as she repeats slightly exasperatedly, "Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself?"

Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes good naturedly, "Go, I'll be fine!"

She watches carefully as her sister excitedly runs to draft her response, only turning her focus back to the letter in her hand after she is alone in the sitting room.

She draws a sharp breath. She has to be paranoid right? She must have been reading too many novels recently. Why else would a letter look blood splattered?

She pushes the thought away as she picks up a half-read journal from the desk. It's nothing, it's probably nothing.

***

Nesta sighs to herself as she looks up from the newspaper clipping and at the cream coloured building, raising a hand to the door handle for what has to be the fifth time. She knocks on the door before she talks herself out of it.

Is she overreacting for engaging a private detective because of some obscure brown spots on a letter?

Maybe but she's not letting that stop her.

Her back is rigid as she walks up the stairs, her shoes somehow hitting against the carpeted surface a little too loud. She cautiously pokes her head into the second floor flat when the pressure of her knock pushes the door open.

"Hello?" She calls, unable to keep down the shiver that traverses down her spine, a feeling as if she's being watched.

Thick curtains cover the window and shroud the entire flat in semi darkness. The room is disconcertingly neat, without a single frame or stationary out of place. She cautiously pads across the room, taking in every framed article - from the arrest reports of major crimes like murderers and arsonists to smaller crimes like lost antiques.

Nesta starts to zoom in on a recent article of a French aristocrat getting mysteriously mauled when she spots a small poster poking out from under the chair. Intrigued, she lowers until she is balanced on the balls of her feet and picks up the poster, her blue grey eyes widening at the picture of an elegant glass domed building and the wordings above it: PARIS EXPOSITION UNIVERSELLE 1889

The Paris World Fair - where Feyre’s art will be showcased. Her heartbeat picks up. Of course, there are many, many reasons that this PI has for having a copy of this poster. A possible theft or even an art enthusiast. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

She startles at the sound of a door opening from a distance. She hurries to slide the paper back beneath the seat and draws herself to full height. Her face is arranged back to its usual haughty impassiveness when the man steps into the sitting room. Nesta bites the inside of her mouth to avoid giving away a reaction.

Though he is dressed in sharp casual attire, every stride is taken with powerful, military precision. Sharp hazel eyes lock with hers for a second before they sweep over her body assessingly. Despite how it raises every hair on her body, the gaze draws a slight upward tilt of her chin at him. A cocksure smirk graces his lips as he clocks the action, it cuts through the stern features and raises the right eyebrow where a thin scar dissects it.

"Please," he gestures to the arm chairs in front of the fireplace, "Sit and we can get started."

Nesta wordlessly makes her way to the seat, taking care only to lower herself as he does.

The man leans back with his legs crossed casually, "So how can I help you today, governess?"

The muscle in her jaw tenses as the smirk on his mouth grows at her surprise, and asks lightly, "Ah, is this the infamous deductive skill I keep hearing about? The great Cassian Everly at work?"

He leans forward and uncrosses his legs almost obscenely wide, a gleam entering his eyes, "Would you like to find out?"

Recognising the challenge, she scoffs, "and give in to your dying need to show off? I'll pass."

The detective shrugs, easily brushing off the insult. He leaps off the chair, the feet of the furniture scraping against the ground as it moves backwards with the sudden impact, effortlessly crossing the distance between them to grab the exhibition poster from the bottom of her seat. He offers it to her, flakes of green and gold dancing around his pupils in teasing knowing, "So who in Paris do you want me to look into?"

This man is dangerous, she realises almost belatedly as their faces are inches apart. Her eyes unwittingly take in every handsome feature, even once daring to dip down to his mouth. Her next words come out more breathless than she ever intended, "Rhysand Night"

For a split second, his brows creased. The look passes so quickly it leaves her doubting if she even saw it. She continues, feeling the need to explain, "He is my sister's sponsor. A sort of agent for her artwork. They left for Paris nearly four months ago, then nearly two months ago, my sister stopped sending us letters." She hands him the letter, "Until this finally arrived three days ago."

He takes the envelope from her, rough fingertips lightly brushing against soft skin. He gives the paper products a careful scan before giving the contents of Feyre's letter a quick read. "The brown spots," he declares, evidently isolating the same abnormally as she did, "are simply coffee stains."

She bristles, asking almost indignantly, "So not a cause of concern?"

"No," he agrees but pockets the letter nonetheless, "but if you still want a report on Night, I'll take the job."

She smiles tightly, "Thank you."

She tries to ignore the way the knot in her stomach tightens as his lips brush her knuckles, "I'll have it ready for you in three days." His eyes darken as the words rolled off and caressed her skin in playful hot rasps, "Pleasure doing business with you, Nesta."

***

Nesta raises a porcelain cup to her lips and sighs deeply at the fragrant scent of the tea. The world passes in a rapid swirl of dark French woods outside the window before her. She sinks back to the velvety cushion, her mind once again drifting back to the private detective as it did throughout her entire journey from London to Paris.

She isn't quite sure what she had expected after her visit to the investigator but a young courier turning up at her doorstep asking for payment with a set of comprehensively documented papers was probably not it. Not after the way the burn of his stare etched into her brain or the pressure of his lips on the back of her hand left her tingling for hours after. Her hand flexes from the mere memory.

Then she stiffens, her back impossibly straight, like a prey under attack.

Unable to shake off the sudden sense of unease, Nesta whips her head around the empty carriage. There is something out here. She's sure of it.

The train lurches just as she stands, causing her back to collide into a solid, warm wall with an "oomph". Thick calloused hands grab either side of her upper arms to steady her.

"Easy there," a low husky voice that has been haunting her dreams rumbles and kicks her heartbeat up a notch.

"Detective," she mumbles, her body still in hyper awareness from the strange fear that struck her earlier.

Numbly, she turns to face the newcomer. The grip on her arms tighten as her chin raises to meet him eye-to-eye. Time stills as hazel eyes meet stormy blue. She feels the lump forming in her throat as she takes in his form. He was undeniably attractive before but now, with brown skin reflecting the silver sheen of moonlight in the most gentle, sensual caress? The man is absolutely devastating.

Brown pupils dart around her face as the edge of his lips curve upwards, giving a teeniest glimpse of pearly white canines, "Fancy meeting you here."

She swallows heavily as the world begins to move again. The rhythmic sound of the train against the tracks returns, loud and garish, and kicks her good sense back into gear.

She narrows her eyes, demanding, "Are you following me?"

The accused waves a dismissive hand as a deep chuckle escapes him, "Trust me, if I was following you, you would never even know I was." A hand disappears into his lapels, "I guessed you would be here and I came to return this to you."

Three pounds, the exact amount she paid him for the work.

"Why?"

"I know Rhysand Night. We are very good friends." He pauses, contemplating his next words, "It did not seem right to charge you when I already knew most of the information presented."

She shakes her head and raises a hand to close his fingers around the coins. She says simply, "I paid for information. It matters not how it was obtained so long as it was factual."

A look of surprise overtakes him but he silently pockets the money anyway. She turns and settles back into her seat, the glassware clinking as she once again brings the cup to her lips and sips on the tea.

"May I?"

He takes the seat next to hers at her nod, the two of them facing the racing, dark forest beyond the window.

"How did you know I would be here?" She asks, unable to quell the curiousity, and almost immediately regrets it as he perks up. His smile is almost irritatingly triumphant.

"You were always going to find your sister. No matter what anyone, even me, says about those brown stains on the letter. That glint in your eyes told me that the day we met. Considering your employment, you would need a week's notice and sufficient headroom to book your transport. Of course, there are a number of ways to travel from London to Paris but a person of your stature and financial position? This particular route via Dover and Calais offers both security and speed without burning a hole in your savings."

She blinks, absorbing the information. The tea cup in her hand rattles slightly as she places it back down. "You're not that impressive," she informs him curtly.

He smirks, "But I got it right, didn't I?"

She doesn't deign to give him a further chance to gloat and asks instead, "So why are you going to Paris? It can't be for me."

Though the burning gaze says otherwise, he tells her, "The World Fair is always full of mysteries. I'm here to see which one I can uncover this time round."

The chair drags against the carpeted surface as she stands, bidding him a farewell, "Then I guess I'll see you there."

"Nesta?"

His face is touched, just barely, with nerves as she stops in her stride and turns back to him.

"Don't leave Paris without saying hi."

The sides of her lips twitch upwards as she heads back, "I'll see you around, detective."

***

Nesta slides down the staircase of the hotel lobby and instantly spots the man waiting for her at the base. He takes a gloved hand, raising to his lips in greeting. A stray wavy strand escapes from the neat bun and falls to tickle her hand as molten hazel brands her.

"You look exquisite, Nesta."

She lets her gaze rake through his body, dressed in the most layers she's seen so far. Though every tailored shirt, vest and jacket clings to his muscled form and attracts wandering eyes. She murmurs her thanks as she takes his elbow and loops an arm around. She stands half a step too close, the proximity sending a message clearer than anything that can be said out loud. His elbow is tight around hers as they exit the building, leaving behind gloved whispers.

He offers a hand as they step out of the carriage, greeted by a row of neat, affluent townhouses. He tilts his head towards her slightly, his mouth curved into a small smile, "I think you'll like this."

She releases a breath she didn't realise she was holding as they walked through an intricately designed door. Her ears pick up on dreamy and melodic harmony of strings and winds, the music stirring something deep within her. There is a splattering of applause as the piece ends before a solo piano act begins in a flow of lively keys.

"Is that Claude Debussy himself?" She whispers to Cassian in disbelief, her arm tightening around him. "How did you-" The words trail off as she finds herself unable to finish the sentence.

How did he know her love for music? She wonders, her breath hitches in her throat at the way his eyes hold tender affection as he observes her reaction. It is all Nesta could do to meet the gaze head on.

He answers simply, "I thought you might enjoy this."

She squeezes his arm and gives a small smile in return. With a little bow, he leads her onto the dance floor. His palm is heavy on her waist as another warms her hand through her glove, their bodies so close that the space between them heats up. The first note of the piano has them moving, her feet following easily in his lead.

There is an ease to dancing with Cassian, she realises. With every spin and twirl of their bodies, with every swell and fade of the piano, the proverbial wall between them thins.

"How are you enjoying Paris?" He asks, his cheeks slightly flushed from the movement, "Was the visit to your sister all you hoped it to be?"

Their hands drift apart as she spins away, effortlessly joining again as the dance spins her back into waiting arms. Her eyes narrow, "Fishing, Everly? I'm sure you know full well how it went."

The evening with Feyre and Rhysand the night before was fraught at worst and awkward at best. Even the cool charm of her sister's art sponsor was unable to dispel the awkwardness of her unannounced arrival. Conversations were tense and stilted, leaving Nesta with more suspicion than when she first stepped through the door.

"Feyre," she continues, their feet moving easily in time, "Feyre is different. I can't quite put my finger on it but she does. And I'm not leaving until I figure it out."

"Cassian," he says instead.

"What?"

Their eyes lock as they circle each other, their steps in a perfect semicircle, "Call me Cassian."

A little laughter bubbles up her throat, escaping her lips in a huff. The music comes to a close and ends the dance with a dip. Strong arms support her securely as he pulls her back upright, their faces now inches apart. For a stretched beat, hazel eyes darken and dart towards her lips. His own sculpted lips are parted, almost in anticipation.

She steps back, giving him a little bow as etiquette demands. "I'm not leaving Paris until I figure out exactly what is going on, Cassian." She feels his weighted gaze even hours after they have parted.

***

The moon hangs high in the sky as Nesta sneaks out of the exhibition housing the World Fair artworks. The night is still, the building feels eerily abandoned. Even the warm summer night fails to tamper the shiver that travels down her spine.

She looks back at the shut wooden door and heaves a sigh. Once again, there is absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Feyre's artworks, while stunning in their bright coloured strokes, are absolutely normal . Normal like Feyre's flat is, normal like her studio is. Not even a paint brush out of place.

The golden brunette thoughtlessly tugs the hood of her coat over her head and heads back to the inn. The fast pathway has her cutting through a park, keeping her footsteps light and quick.

She stills when the sound of a throaty moan slices through the silence of the woods. She should move, she should definitely, definitely move.

But she doesn't.

Despite her better sense, Nesta moves toward the sound nestled safely behind the trees. Stormy blue eyes widened to mimic the moon above while blood roared through her ears.

It was Feyre and Rhysand. With another man she doesn't recognise.

Except Rhysand has what could only be fangs extended pointedly at tender skin of the man's wrist while Feyre's lips are fused to the man's neck, arms holding him tight in an embrace. She lifts her head, exposing her own set of razor sharp canines and blood running down her chin. Nesta watches, horrified, as Rhysand releases the man's hand and whispers into his ear.

The man retreats, his steps heavy and slow like a zombie. Nesta's vision tunnels back to the couple. Where Rhysand approaches her sister with a predatory gleam, his mouth opening wide as Feyre bares her neck at him. It is too obscene and intimate both at once.

Nesta opens her mouth to scream.

But no sound escapes. A rough hand clamps tightly over her mouth. "Don't make a sound, don't even move a muscle."

Her heart stings with betrayal at the familiar voice. She begins to shake as another strong arm encircles around her middle. Her breath feels cut off as she begins to soar high up in the night sky, stopping when the street lights are nothing more than fireflies blinking in the dark. Shakily, she turns to look up at her captor.

She thinks bitterly that it is unreasonable for him to look so beautiful bathed in silver moonlight. How it distracts her, pulling her attention away from the monstrously large leathery wings flapping to keep them airborne. Or elongated fangs that can probably pierce through her flesh like a hot knife through butter. No, instead she is entranced by the way the light reflects off the contours of his face and accentuates his cheekbones, the way his hair gathers deliciously in the wind, taunting her fingers to reach up and yank .

His eyes are darker than she's ever seen them, pupils blown wide, pushed to the edges until there is just a rim of gold.

Slowly but surely, her brain begins to move again, her blood speeds as she seethes, "You've been lying to me all this time. Covering up for them, distracting me and leading me in circles."

"Nesta," the voice is strained.

Cold fire surges through her veins and laces her words, "Bring me back down now."

"They could've killed you if they've seen you." He argues sharply.

She barely hears him over her heart pounding in her ears, pushing aside the chill of fear to dig her nails deep into muscled forearms, "Bring me down. Now."

She can almost hear his jaw click in tension. But powerful leathery wing pitches with the wind and they start to descend. Not back to the same woods but precariously outside a dark window. It falls open with a swipe of his nails.

Nesta extricates herself the instant her feet touch the ground. At any other time, she may have dawdled to properly observe her surroundings, what is sure to be his room. Instead, she whips around, striking out like a viper, " He did this to her."

Hazel eyes flash dangerously, his lips curling into a snarl, "Don't talk about what you don't understand."

She shoves the hysterical laugh that threatens to escape and scoffs derisively. She hisses, "Feyre was human when she left. Not," she swallows the lump in her throat, "not this monster Night turned her into."

"A monster" he echoes flatly, a hint of hurt flashes past his face. It is gone within a heartbeat, replaced by a determined predator's glare.

"Yes," She tilts her chin up to level a hard gaze at him, refusing to step back even when he is close enough that she is enveloped by the heady scent of snowy pine and sandalwood.

She is as stiff as marble as his face lowers towards and the tip of his nose ghosts along the nape, "Then do you know," he growls, breathing deeply, "how delectable you are to monsters like me?"

A whimper wrangles out of her as hot tongue laps the length of her throat with one long lick, the strangely erotic action sends a spike of heat straight between her legs. He chuckles lowly, the barest of movement has the front of his thigh rubbing delicious friction against her core, "So what does this say about you? Enjoying the attention of a monster?"

Slap!

Her hand stings from the impact as she spits out, "Is this what he did to her? Seduce her into it? With music and lies?" She wrestles herself out of his grip, stumbling backwards. Hot tears prick the back of her eyes but she holds firm, throwing him the coldest look she could muster, "You tell Feyre. If she ever valued her relationship with us, she will tell us the truth. Otherwise," she takes a breath, "otherwise, she's dead to us."

She straightens her back, her legs moving almost mechanically out of the room.

"She was dying and he saved her."

She stops, just barely long enough to reply coldly. "That depends on your definition of saved."

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

57 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

love me in chapters

For @nessianweek.

4.6K words, one-shot, no plot, all smut

Read on AO3.

Nesta reduces a cocky Cassian into a begging mess when he tries to interrupt her reading.

I don't mean to perpetuate the stereotype of Cassian as himbo (he's a general--man is STRATEGIC), but he's just so horny and stupid in this one.

Also, you know Nesta would absolutely be a Kindle girlie. She’d love KU smut. And yes, she dog-ears her pages–don’t come for her. They don’t have those annotating flags in Prythian.

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day #we always support himbo!cassian

42 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

@nessianweek | Day 7

For the final day I wanted to share this super adorable comic of Nesta in public vs in private.

Cassian doesn't mind if Nesta scolds him in public, he knows he's ending his day getting all her love. 😉🤭

Art by venusfolk

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by luna 🌙 (@readsof_luna)

instagram

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

142 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

@nessianweek | Day 07: Free Day

How Cassian's attempts to flirt with Nesta during ACOWAR must have gone. 😂

Art by: _inkye Commissioned by: @melphss

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

815 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

@nessianweek Day Seven: Free Day

“Cassian’s stomach twisted. ‘Nesta,’ he said into her ear. ‘Nesta, open your hand and come back.’ Her breathing sharpened. The cold deepened. ‘Nesta,’ he snarled— And the cold halted. It didn’t vanish, but rather… stopped. Nesta’s eyes flicked open. Silver fire burned within. Nothing Fae looked out through them. […] But Nesta’s hand continued to squeeze Cassian’s. He squeezed back, let his Siphons send a bite of power into her skin. She turned her head so slowly it was like watching a puppet move. Her eyes met his. Death watched him. But Death had walked beside him every day of his life. So Cassian stroked his thumb along her palm and said, ‘Hello, Nes.’” – A Court of Silver Flames, Chapter 31

For the last day of Nessian Week, I commissioned this incredible illustration with Heitor, who ended up preparing one of the best representations of Nesta and Cassian I’ve ever seen.

Art by: Heitor Aquino (heitor_inc)

Commissioned by: @podemechamardek

🚫 Please do not repost.

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

408 notes · View notes

nessianweek · 8 months

Text

Musc Ravageur

After obtaining an alluring perfume from a local vendor, Cassian and Nesta find themselves under a strange spell and unable to control their lust for each other.

(A sex pollen fic inspired by and for an SJM Kink Meme prompt and for Nessian Week 2023)

Happy Nessian Week! This smutty one shot is for @nessianweek Day 7 (Free day). Thank you so much to the organizers for running an amazing event!

This fic was inspired by an @sjmkinkmeme prompt on their spreadsheet for a Nessian sex pollen prompt. I've been wanting to do a sex pollen fic for a while and this prompt was the perfect inspiration!

Rating: Very Explicit. Please see the AO3 link for tags/warnings.

Word Count: 7K

Read on A03

Cassian adjusts his clothing and looks himself over in the mirror, feeling oddly nervous. He has no reason to be, the sensible voice in his head tells him. Nesta is his mate, and loves every gift, big and small, he’s gotten her in the past few months since they were mated.

But he still doesn’t have the best record with Winter Solstice gifts for Nesta, so he thinks the nerves are justified.

He glances over at the intricate perfume bottle on his nightstand. Nesta had never really shown a liking or affinity to fragrances. Cassian thinks her own scent—iron, smoke, and sheer willpower—is already perfect and there’s no reason to try to cover it up with anything else.

The old fae female hawking her wares in the Palace of Thread and Jewels was persuasive, though. Like a familiar friend was coaxing him along, Cassian walked up to the fae’s stall. Grinning slyly, like she had been expecting him, the half-concealed female took one look at him and thrust an ornate glass bottle with a mesmerizing, swirling liquid inside into his hands.

“For your true love,” she said in a whisper, eyes bright. “Guaranteed to make them wild with love.”

Nesta didn’t need that—they had spent the past month showing each other how wild with love they both were with each other after they had accepted the mating bond. Cassian took a slight whiff of the bottle. The perfume had an indescribable scent, like nothing he’d ever smelled before, and just that small sniff lay heavy in his nostrils. It was cloying and thick and heady and Cassian needed more, and before he knew it, he laid a finger on the top to spray an even more generous spritz—

“None of that, now.” The old fae’s worn hands darted out and grabbed the enchanting scent from his hands. Cassian shook his head, unsure of what had just come over him. “Save it for when you’re alone with your true love. It’ll be much more…appreciated then.”

Cassian didn’t remember tossing the money for the perfume to the woman, nor did he remember taking the perfume in its elegant box home and storing it away for a special occasion. And what could be more special than the annual Winter Solstice celebration with his family at Rhys’s house.

He grins and adjusts his vest. It’s little Nyx’s first Solstice, and Feyre’s birthday as well. His friend and High Lord seems to understand the importance of this year’s festivities, based on the extra energy and smiles he had been throwing around all week.

Satisfied with his appearance, Cassian takes the perfume from the desk and steals one last smell. Like before, the intoxicating aroma lingers in his nose and travels throughout his body, despite the fact that he hasn’t even sprayed any on himself. He had almost forgotten the perfume entirely before a niggling thought in the back of his mind reminded him of his purchase. He’ll spray some on Nesta soon, though, and the thought has his cock twitching in his trousers.

Cassian hustles out of their room. If Nesta isn’t in their room getting ready, there’s only one place she could be. Throwing open the doors of the library, Cassian stares at the vision that is his mate.

Nesta reclines on a reading couch, looking as elegant and proud as a queen surrounded by her adoring people. Fitting, Cassian thinks wryly: her beloved books are her subjects, and he is her loyal supplicant and advisor. Nesta’s hair is up in a simple braided bun, a few wisps of hair framing her long face. Her dress is a floor length smoky blue silk dress, with a deep ‘V’ that shows off her breasts and an equally deep leg slit that displays nearly the entire length of her strong, shapely legs. Just a glimpse of her smooth skin and muscles makes Cassian wish, just for a moment, that they didn’t have to go anywhere tonight, that he could spend the evening peeling Nesta’s dress off, trailing his lips along her petal soft skin higher and higher and higher—

“If you keep looking at me like that, we’ll never make it to Feyre’s.”

Cassian grins at his imperious mate, at her cocked eyebrow and knowing smirk. “You’re definitely making me double-think our family tradition, dressed like that.”

Nesta stands up—Cassian has to stifle a moan at the glimpse of flesh that’s revealed along Nesta’s leg and hip when she stands—and walks over to him, her heels thudding against the carpeted floor of the library. “Shouldn’t the sight of me dressed like this make you lose all thoughts and ideas from that gorgeous head of yours?”

He grins down at Nesta and places a soft kiss against her lips. “Of course, mate. How right you are.”

“And don’t forget it.”

Cassian chuckles. “You really do look amazing, Nes.”

His mate smiles fondly up at him and lays a hand on his shoulder, and not for the first time when it concerns his mate, Cassian forgets how to breath. “And you don’t look half bad yourself.”

“Do I look better than you?”

Nesta snorts and runs her hands down his jacket, straightening it out. “You know the answer to that. What’s this?”

“Oh!” Somehow, in the span of two minutes, Cassian had already forgotten the perfume. Digging in his suit jacket, he pulls out the delicate glass bottle. “I was in the market earlier and found this perfume. I know you don’t typically wear anything but it reminded me of you.”

Nesta smiles up at him. “That’s so sweet.”

“And the woman selling it said it would make my true love wild with passion, or something.”

“Yes, because we don’t regularly show each other how passionate we are for each other, hm?” Nesta asks sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

“Exactly. I know I’m already perfect—“

“Who told you that?”

“—but I figured another gift for my beautiful mate couldn't go amiss. Want me to spray you?”

Nesta takes the swirling perfume from his hand and takes a few steps back. “You can sometimes be a little heavy-handed with your cologne. I’ll spray it myself.”

“I do not spray that much cologne.”

Nesta inspects the bottle and the contents within. “Oh, yes you do. I shouldn’t be able to smell the Illryian mountains after you’ve been back for half a day and have bathed.” She opens the cap and takes a small sniff from the bottle. Immediately, Nesta’s gray eyes dilate and Cassian swears he hears her heart rate increase. “Oh!”

“Right? That was my reaction too.”

“It smells… I can’t describe it. Like pure sex.”

Cassian chokes on his breath because fuck, if that isn’t the perfect description. “I didn’t think—“

Without another word, Nesta douses herself with the perfume, along her arms, torso and the hollow of her throat. A beat passes, then Cassian watches, entranced, as his mate seems to transform before his eyes: her eyes close and she body shudders then relaxes, her heart beats even faster, Cassian swears he hears Nesta whimper, and the all too familiar scent of Nesta’s arousal slams into him like a fist to his face.

“Nes—“

“Oh Cassian,” Nesta coos in a sultry voice he has never heard before. Her eyes are half lidded as she prowls towards him with an easy, confident stride. “Let's leave the thinking to me from now on.”

“Fuck Nesta.” Cassian isn’t sure if it’s the perfume or Nesta’s arousal he’s smelling, but his cock is hard in his pants and twitching against his leg.

“Yes, exactly, fuck me,” Nesta growls. Suddenly Nesta is in front of him and grabbing his jacket to bring him down to her and she’s kissing him, all fierce tongue and teeth and lips. Her hands roam over his torso and the back of head cementing him to her as she continues kissing him like her life depends on it.

Cassian grips his mate’s heaving shoulders and pushes her away from him, the scents of her arousal and the perfume making him dizzy. “Nesta, what’s gotten into you?”

“Hopefully your giant cock soon.”

“Nes,” Cassian growls, in equal parts frustration and arousal.

“I need you,” Nesta pants, squirming in his grip. “I don’t know what—what’s happening but I need you right now, or, or…”

“Or what?” Cassian breathes through his mouth, trying to keep a level head through Nesta’s sudden madness.

“I feel like I’m burning everywhere, and I need you! In me, fucking me! Please!”

Cassian takes a moment to observe his mate. Her cheeks are flush and her breath is leaving her open mouth in great gasps. Nesta’s gray eyes look blurry—whether that’s from whatever madness has suddenly overcome her or the sudden tears gathering in the corners of her wide eyes, he isn’t sure. “This makes no sense,” he grits out. “You’re not well. You need a healer.”

“No!” With a speed that leave even him blindsided, Nesta sprays the perfume in his face and along his body, encasing him in a shroud of the tantalizing vapor.

Cassian coughs and bats his hands through the mist. “Fuck, Nesta…” The perfume burns his throat and mouth as it travels down into his stomach then branches out into his body and permeates his skin and organs and bones, hotter and hotter. It’s as if something within him is changing, the shock of the perfume altering his very essence, turning him into a beast with only one thought, mine, mine, claim her—

And then, everything is quiet and calm. He blinks. Why is Cassian so concerned about Nesta? She’s fine, just as he is, and currently rubbing her body against his like a cat in heat. Nesta needs to be fucked, and Cassian needs to fuck her, right now—why was he fighting her earlier?

“You feel it too,” Nesta croons, softly cradling his jaw. Her eyes are huge and glazed, and Cassian can see his own dilated eyes in her reflection. “The burning, the need… you feel it too. I can see it.”

The inferno that raged through his body earlier has faded, and the heat is now simmering just below his skin. His ears are ringing, the sound getting louder and louder, and his skin feels itchy, but then Nesta grips his jaw to force him to look at her, and nothing else matters but the delectable female in front of him, a fire sparking within her eyes that he hasn’t seen since she gave up her powers.

“I need you. Now.”

Cassian doesn’t wait. Grabbing her dress, he tears it off her lithe body and is rewarded with a moan and a fresh gush of desire from his mate. He growls as Nesta claws off his clothes and he’s bare and stiff and proud before his wife.

Nesta looks him up and down, a corner of her mouth tilted up. Her hand leisurely strokes his aching length. “Lay down on the ground so I can fuck you.”

Cassian growls. The urge, the hunger, within him demands to be sated, now, and the quickest way to do that is if Cassian gives them what they both need and bends her over the nearest piece of furniture to give his female the pounding of a lifetime. He opens his mouth to say as such when Nesta beats him to it.

“Get down on the damned floor right now before I go find some other way to get off,” Nesta snarls up at him, shoving his chest.

“You were just begging for my cock a moment ago, sweetheart,” Cassian crows back, a cruel grin on his mouth. The hunger he feels for Nesta is intense, but arguing with her temporarily sates that overwhelming desire. “You’re in no state to make demands of me.”

Nesta bares her teeth then ducks down. Before Cassian can track her, she kicks her leg out and sweeps his legs out from under him. He hits the floor hard and he feels a shot of pride for Nesta—his fierce Valkyrie has come so far—before every thought flees his mind as Nesta faces away from him and lowers herself over his lap. Cassian groans. From here, he has an amazing view of Nesta’s pert ass and strong legs as she she squats over him, as she grips his cock and angles it up, as she notches the thick head of his length at her tight entrance. She’s so wet, he can feel her juices already rolling down his straining shaft.

He shifts below her. The aching desire has come back in full force and he needs relief, needs Nesta, now. Cassian’s hands dig into the plush rug beneath them. “Gods, Nesta, move.”

Nesta glances behind her to look at Cassian, an eyebrow cocked. Her body is already shining with sweat and she’s breathing hard, but he’s never seen a more beautiful and divine being in his life.

“You’re in no state to make demands of me,” she parrots back at him. But Nesta is a generous god; she slams onto his cock, taking him to the hilt in one and bringing them both instant relief. They groan in unison. Normally, Cassian has to take his time easing into her tight cunt, to make sure he doesn’t hurt her.

Nesta doesn’t need any niceties tonight. She bounces on his cock, her strong legs moving her up and down, up and down, his cock. Cassian hears her panting softly above him as she braces a hand on his leg for leverage. Her other hand disappears between her legs—he feels her fingers occasionally grazing his shaft—and after only a few seconds, Nesta comes. Her walls squeeze his length and she softly moans as she comes down from her high.

Cassian looks on through bleary eyes. Nesta never comes that quickly or easily, preferring to gradually build towards a release with him. But that doesn’t matter, he decides. He’s warm and buzzing and jealous that Nesta has come already and he hasn’t. The burning beast within him rears its head again, and this time, it won’t stop until it’s satisfied.

“Are you only interested in getting yourself off?”

Without wasting a beat, Nesta shifts herself so she’s on her knees above him, still facing his legs, and leisurely rocks back and forth over his cock. Cassian bites his lip. From this angle, he has a perfect view of his thick cock splitting her glistening pink lips open, her folds spread obscenely around him.

“You’ll come when I decide you can come,” she replies loftily, not deigning to look back at him and still taking her time and rocking above him.

Cassian is done playing. Gripping her hips, he thrusts up into Nesta’s tight heat as she lowers herself onto him. She gasps and her cunt tightens around his length.

From there, it’s a hot, sweaty battle for dominance between the two of them. They’re each racing for the same goal, he realizes, but Cassian refuses to lay back and let Nesta fully dictate when they finish. His hands are a brand on her hips and ass as he moves her up and down his throbbing length, and Nesta keeps riding him, going faster and faster and harder, her legs shaking with the effort. His cock is soaked with her juices, the sound of their flesh meeting wet.

They’re both breathing hard. Nesta whines, a soft, keening noise from the back of her throat, and Cassian knows she’s close, that they’re both in the final leg of the race towards release. He’s burning from within and he needs to come, more than he’s ever needed anything in his life, and he needs Nesta to come with him. Blindly reaching between her legs, Cassian swipes a few fumbling fingers through the top of her folds.

Nesta’s orgasm triggers his. As she moans his name, Cassian thrusts into her one final time and come inside her with a roar that shakes the windows. He’s coming, and coming, and coming, thick, endless ropes within Nesta’s welcoming cunt, more than he’s ever come before. Cassian’s continuing release fuels Nesta’s, and it’s a delicious feedback of their ongoing orgasms triggering the other.

When it finally ends sometime later—Cassian isn’t sure when—they’re both sweating and quiet. His cum leaks out of Nesta’s cunt around his somewhat softened cock. The burning beast within him is sated for the moment.

Nesta twists over her shoulder to look at him, still seated atop him. “I hope you’re not too tired after that,” she purrs, and Cassian lets his head hit the floor.

XXX

Time has lost all meaning to Nesta.

Perhaps it has been an hour, two hours, a day, or even a week. All she knows is the feel of her mate’s thick and heavy cock in her mouth.

Nesta takes Cassian’s length fully down her throat, the short hairs at the juncture of his thighs tickling her nose. She breathes through her nose and relaxes her tongue and jaw. Above her, he makes the most decadent noises.

“So good Nesta, taking my fat cock in that perfect mouth of yours,” he praises her quietly, and Nesta practically comes right then and there, just from the feel of his smooth shaft along her tongue and his honeyed words.

She desperately wants to reach a hand between her thighs and rub a finger over her clit or, even better, thrust her fingers inside herself and pump. Nesta doesn’t. There’s a sort of delicious agony in denying herself what she wants now, knowing what’s coming later will be worth the wait, like saving a piece of rich cake for after dinner at the end of a long day, knowing the reward would be appreciated all the better for waiting.

And wait she has. Nesta doesn’t know how much time has passed since a dreamlike fog, thick and heavy on her limbs like the morning mist, suddenly settled over her mind and body. It didn’t start out that way—she vaguely remembers a scorching sensation tearing through her body as a wild, feral need emerged from somewhere within her and demanded her mate.

It isn’t completely unlike those wretched years after she was Made and turned to drinking and sex to attempt to feel anything in her life. Except now, though, she has Cassian next to her. She’ll never be wanting for anything again, as long as she has him, her mate, her equal, by her side.

Nesta feels one of Cassian’s hands slowly thread itself through her ruined hair. With a sudden tightening of his grip, his hand wrenches her hair and pulls her down further onto his cock. Nesta gags, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. “Something distracting you, sweetheart?” he taunts with a mocking sweetness, a corner of his mouth twitching up.

Her equal, indeed. Any other time, Nesta would have whipped herself off of Cassian’s dick and asked the House to deliver whatever type of punishment she thought he’d deserve. Now, though, with a cloud of lust making her dizzy, all Nesta could do is whimper around his length at the dominance in his tone and words.

That dominance wasn’t exactly his idea, however. After Nesta had ridden him on the floor of the library like a warrior charging into battle, Cassian had dragged them to the couch and brought her close to his chest, a touching act of sweetness and normalcy at complete odds to what they had just done to each other.

She couldn’t stand it, though. The buzzing beneath her skin branched out into her blood and veins and lungs and heart the longer she sat still without her mate’s cock in her in some way. Nesta had clambered out of his lap and kneeled between Cassian’s thick thighs, pumped his still half-hard shaft twice, then took him in her mouth.

The first time she made him come with her mouth and hands was quick, just a few minutes of her tongue working his sensitive tip and her hand squeezing and stroking what she didn’t have in her mouth. He had come with a hoarse cry, his hands digging into the couch cushions, thighs spread wide. His salty come coated Nesta’s tongue and rushed down her throat, her gaze content and proud at making her mate feel such pleasure. Cassian was still hard—somehow—beneath her, and a final splash of come landed on her lips as she detached herself from his shaft with a soft pop.

His eyes were still bleary, like hers, like he too wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But also like Nesta, the continuous ache and need to continue fucking and coming was too great. It was tinged with a sense that something was wrong, but neither could concentrate long enough to voice and actually think on their concerns.

Without missing a beat, Nesta had licked Cassian’s come off her lips, then took his cock back inside her mouth and started it all again.

Now, Cassian’s hand on the back of her head forcibly guiding her up and down his cock feels like a fixture, like Nesta is only complete with his hand in her hair and his cock down her throat. He moans when she drags her nails down the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

“Trying to mark me up, mate? Leave bruises on my legs, like I’m going to leave bruises on that pretty neck of yours later?”

Nesta whimpers around his cock, wetness rolling down her cheeks when he thrusts his cock into her raw throat, and wetness rolling down her legs at everything happening to her right now. The sound of Nesta’s gagging and whimpers fill the room. She braces her hands on Cassian’s knees as she lets him fuck her throat, his hands tangled in her hair as he grunts and moans above her, all while Nesta stares adoringly at her mate. She’s close, and the haze within her thickens, and everything is jumbled—

Her world shifts and suddenly Nesta is on her back on the rug, and Cassian’s thick cock is entering her slick cunt in one brutal thrust. Lightning races up her spine as she comes suddenly, almost violently, her body shaking and her release coating her mate’s cock and thighs. Her inner muscles squeeze so hard she forces Cassian’s length from her body and she writhes on the ground. She has experienced mind numbing pleasure at the hands of her mate many times before tonight, but the release she experiences now is unlike anything she’s ever felt. Nesta vaguely hears Cassian cursing quietly to himself but Nesta is too far gone to recognize what he’s saying.

She receives no reprise. Still on her back with Cassian kneeling between her spread, trembling thighs, he thrusts into her still quivering pussy and resumes his brutal pace. “So good, Nesta,” Cassian purrs, his eyes hazy and delirious with pleasure. “So good of you to soak me like that. Did sucking my cock make you that needy?”

Nesta whimpers, too stricken with lust and already needing more even after the most intense orgasm of her life had been ripped through her body. This couldn’t be natural, what was happening to them…

But then Cassian slowly wraps a large hand around her throat, and all thoughts leave Nesta’s brain. She’s with her mate whom she loves more than anyone else in the world—what could be unnatural or wrong with what was happening to them?

“I asked you a question: did sucking my cock make you so needy that you squirted the second I started fucking you?”

His hand wasn’t too tight around her throat that she couldn’t answer. “Yes,” Nesta gasps, the feeling of his hand around her and cock within her already working her towards another orgasm. She grips the back of her thighs to widen herself even better for her mate, and Cassian moans appreciatively, looking down between her legs to watch himself pound into her red, swollen folds.

Cassian’s hand tightens around her throat as his breathing quickens and his thrusts get harder and sloppier. She feels herself leaking onto the rug, and knows her scent will be entwined in this room, just like it’s already entwined with the male above her. All Nesta can do is grip the back of her thighs to keep herself spread for him as she whimpers and urges him on, dark spots forming at the edges of her hazy vision. Her heartbeat thrums just under her skin. “Please, please, please…”

“Be a good mate and come,” Cassian snarls, releasing her throat to slap between her legs. He hits her clit and Nesta launches to the stars, like one of the many flying celestial bodies on Starfall.

Eventually, she falls back to the planet, and Cassian is with her. She feels his spend trickle between her legs, and glances down to see him aim the last of the come on her lower stomach. Their breathing gradually slows. Nesta lightly touches her neck and knows from the slight ache already forming that she’ll have a bruised necklace in the exact shape of Cassian’s hand adorning her throat in the morning.

But all thoughts of later are far away in her mind. All Nesta focuses on is the feel of Cassian’s sweaty, hard body above her, quieting the ache between her legs and hunger in her blood.

XXX

“Put your back into it and fuck me!”

Nesta snarls like a crazed beast at him, and she looks it too: there are red scratches already forming along her back, her hair is in complete disarray around her sweaty face, her teeth are bared and the fingers of her elegant hands are curved into claws that could tear a male’s throat out.

And she’s all his.

Deciding the best way to shut his mate up is to make her speechless, Cassian grips her hips even harder than before and steps up with one leg on the now-creaking couch in the library. This way, he has better leverage to fuck into her as Nesta hangs onto the back of the furniture for dear life.

Cassian is pretty sure they’ve been at it for hours. He hasn’t seen the sun come up, and a rescue party hasn’t come looking for them, so he dimly assumes in the back of his mind that no one is missing them and it hasn’t been that long. It’s hard to keep track of time, however, when his entire world is now centered on fucking the female in front of him.

“Have I not been fucking you well up till now? Are you not covered in my sweat and come? You were just screaming my name a few minutes ago.”

“If you were actually up to the task of satisfying me, I wouldn’t have ever stopped,” Nesta snaps without looking back at him, her hips gently swaying in front of him to try to entice him, and dammit it, it works. Through the ever-present fog that settled over his eyes and body, Cassian sees a bit of red creep into the corner of his eyes at the suggestion that he can’t keep up with Nesta. Stroking his cock, he watches in a haze as he sees two of Nesta’s long fingers skim her soaking folds before they plunge within her soft cunt.

Cassian watches, entranced, as Nesta pumps her fingers in and out of her pussy. It’s an awkward angle for her, and she isn’t able to fuck herself as deep as he knows she wants to. She hangs her head down and moans, her hips moving in time with her thrusts, before Cassian remembers her earlier dare: put your back into it and fuck me.

He grabs the hand fingering herself and wrenches it out of her cunt before landing two hard, quick slaps to each of her rosy ass cheeks. Her ass bounces with the motion and Nesta moans in delight, and her ass keeps jiggling as Cassian thrusts inside her to the hilt with one savage push and he starts fucking her.

Just like every other time they’d fucked this night—day? Week?—Nesta takes it, takes him, so perfectly, not needing time to adjust to his length and girth. Cassian isn’t sure he’s ever been with a female that’s been as wet as Nesta is tonight, since he can’t remember anything from more than a few hours ago, but he doesn’t think submerging a partner in the Sidra would get them as wet as Nesta is now.

Cassian grips her hips, putting all of his strength and muscles into fucking Nesta harder than he’s ever fucked her before. She moans into the fabric of the couch, and he’s pretty sure she’s biting the couch to stifle her noises.

He grabs her hair and pulls, making her back arch. “Come on, Nes. Let me hear it. Tell everyone who’s fucking you so well.”

“Cas—Cassian,” she whimpers. The wet slapping of their flesh meeting nearly drowns out her words. Cassian smacks her ass again. “Louder.”

“Cassian!” Nesta shrieks, and he can’t keep the grin off his face.

“I think… that’s enough of my back… don’t you agree?” Cassian can barely speak over how hard he’s moving into Nesta. The hand gripping her hip for dear life and the other hand in her hair keeps Nesta connected to him, and he’s thrusting so hard the couch is moving across the floor. He glances down and sees her ass bouncing against his hips and his cock, glistening with her wetness, shining in the low lamplight.

The beast that’s been lurking under his skin all night is rising to the forefront of his mind, demanding to be unleashed onto the female under him. Nothing else matters to Cassian but release—his and hers. His heart beats erratically in his chest. He needs to come now or he’ll die, he’s sure of it, and by the desperate whining leaving Nesta’s mouth, she feels the same aching need as well.

His hand gripping Nesta’s sweaty hair plunges between her legs and strokes her bundle of nerves punishingly, without any thought of kindness or care. Neither of them wants or needs that now, and when Nesta breaks and wails her release, his name on her lips, Cassian shatters with her.

The beast within him purrs, content to rest until it needs to feed again.

XXX

Nesta isn’t sure how much more of this she can take.

Logically, she realizes there’s no way she should still be conscious at this point. Between all the sweat and come that’s left her body, she should be a dehydrated husk that’s been left out in the sun too long. Even after she managed to hoarsely ask the House for some water—it had dumped a huge carafe of ice cold water with two glasses on the only unbroken table remaining, along with meat, cheese, crackers, and an entire chocolate cake—she still feels thirsty and empty and needy. Things are becoming clearer to her—she remembers there was something odd about that perfume Cassian got her—but her skin is still too tight on her body and she’s just uncomfortable.

Underneath her, Cassian is trying his best to bring her some relief. His tongue stiffens and grazes the side of her clit, and pleasure-pain lances through her body.

“Why can’t you always be so sweet with your tongue like this, instead of giving me attitude all the time?” she asks fondly, staring down at him.

Between her thighs, Cassian chuckles and hooks his arms over her legs, keeping her cunt on his face. He hadn’t wasted a moment after coming inside her to throw himself on the ground and tug her over his face. “To clean you up,” he’d said, which was perhaps one of the most thoughtful things he’d ever said to her.

Cassian doesn’t seem to mind that he’s licking his own release along with hers. He also doesn’t seem to be in any rush to make her come, or to seek any pleasure for himself. His cock is half-hard against his thigh and twitches with every moan and shaky breath that leaves her lips, but he doesn’t make any effort to change their positions.

His tongue swirls around her entrance before it plunges inside her. “Fuck,” Nesta sighs, carding a hand through his thick hair and gently moving her hips over his lips. “You feel so good.” Cassian stills, letting her ride his face as she chases her orgasm and quivers above him.

Nesta falls forward, bracing her hands on the floor as she comes down from her high. She tries to swing off Cassian’s head but he only tightens his strong arms around her legs.

“Again,” he commands from below, his voice muffled. He doesn’t give her any other option; his tongue strokes her clit in broad laps as Nesta grits her teeth.

Now it’s a bit too much pain and not enough pleasure. “I can’t,” Nesta says, fighting to upend herself from his grip, tears burning the corners of her eyes. “It’s too much.”

"You will come again on my tongue,” he shoots back forcefully, like he’s willing his statement into reality. “Touch yourself.”

Nesta groans, in frustration and because of what his lips are doing between her thighs, before she gives in and pinches her nipples. She leans back, seating herself fully on her mate’s face, and Cassian hums in approval.

His tongue dances over her folds as he slips a single thick finger inside her. Nesta hisses, squeezing her breasts. Despite her body being more accommodating than ever before when it comes to Cassian’s cock, her channel finally feels a twinge of tenderness at the intrusion. He’s gentle, though, barely thrusting inside her and letting her own rocking hips dictate how much of himself she takes within her.

Whatever strange fervor that had taken hold inside her isn’t ready to be done yet, though. She finds release again on Cassian’s face and feels empty. “One… one more time,” she gasps weakly, crawling off him and laying down on the floor on her side.

She hears Cassian shuffling behind her, then feels the floor reverberate as he thumps down on his side behind her. Dragging her top leg over his hip and positioning an arm underneath her head, Cassian turns her head towards him.

His face is shining with her come, and it’s one of the most erotic things she’s ever seen in her life. It’s a sign that he’s happy to pleasure her, and also proud to have her mark him, to bear her scent proudly. Nesta tugs her mate to her lips by the back of his neck at the same time his hard cock enters her.

They groan into each other’s mouths. Finally, it seems neither of them have the desperate, insatiable need to reach their release as soon as possible. Nesta’s eyes and body feels heavy and tired but she feels more like herself than before. Based on the bleary look Cassian gives her as he rocks in between her legs, she thinks whatever strange delusion that overcame her earlier is leaving his body as well.

Nesta relaxes in Cassian’s arms. He’s warm behind her, a reassuring presence. Cassian buries his face in the back of her neck as his hips speed up, pushing himself into her fully on each thrust. The sound of their bodies meeting is dirty and wet and filthy, yet she feels more connected with her mate now after what they just experienced.

Cassian breaks Nesta from her loving haze by pumping all of his cock inside her and grinding against her, hitting a sensitive spot he rarely manages to find. Stars erupt in Nesta’s eyes as equal parts pleasure and pain lights up her body.

“Fuck, Nes, you’re perfect,” Cassian mutters into her neck. He’s thrusting and grinding against her pussy as his fingers brush her folds. “So lucky—love you so much—mine, mine—“

“Yours,” she gasps, twisting to pull his face back to hers, her lips hurriedly brushing against his. “And you’re mine.”

“Yes, always,” he groans, screwing his eyes shut. He’s pounding into her with abandon, his fingers circling her clit. “Fuck, come with me.”

With a sob, Nesta comes. Cassian finishes soon after, shooting his release deep within her body. For several minutes they’re silent, each shaking with exhaustion.

The sun is peeking out from the bottom of the library’s windows when Nesta raises her head. When she finally comes again sometime later, the fog that had been hanging over and inside her finally dissipates, leaving her sluggish. The all-consuming need from that damned perfume is finally gone from her weak body, its scent no longer blanketing her skin. She crawls on shaking legs and arms to the water jug and hauls it over to Cassian, still laying on the floor.

“I know we just got done having sex—“

“Please don’t say you’re still feeling… whatever we just experienced,” Nesta interrupts tiredly, wiping her mouth after drinking from the carafe.

“No, no, I think I’m fine,” Cassian says, accepting the water from Nesta. “I was going to say, I know we just finished fucking like animals, but the sight of you crawling with my come running down your leg would normally be enough for me to go again.”

“And now?” Nesta asks, laying down on the floor, her head on Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian takes a long drink. “Now, I think we went at it so much I’m afraid to even look at you. My cock needs a break.”

“Just your cock? That seemed to be an entire body workout.”

“And you weren’t complaining.”

Nesta hums and closes her eyes, feeling Cassian’s steady heart beat under her head. They’re silent for some time until Cassian speaks.

“What happened to us?”

“It was that perfume you got me,” Nesta spats. “I felt fine until I smelled it. It must have been drugged to act as an aphrodisiac.”

“The female I bought it from did say it would make my true love wild. I didn’t think it would be like that,” Cassian winces.

Nesta narrows her eyes and looks at Cassian. “Who did you buy it from again? When I can manage to stand and take a bath, I’m going to pay a visit to the Palace of Thread and Jewels with that cursed perfume and put my Valkyrie training to good use. I’m going to smash the bottle at her feet—“

“No need to be so hasty,” Cassian says, squeezing her. “I wouldn’t mind keeping it around, for special occasions.”

Nesta stares at him incredulously. “You’re mad.”

“Mad with how much I love you.”

“Just shut up and kiss me and be quiet,” Nesta sighs, and Cassian laughs and obliges his mate.

XXX

Rhys glances out of the River House’s window into the dark night above. It had snowed earlier, and he can still make out the three spread outlines pressed into the fluffy snow, one much smaller than the other two. It had been a perfect Winter Solstice with Feyre and Nyx, and now Rhys gets to enjoy the evening with his small family as well.

Was it wrong of him to ask a local vendor to sell some enchanted perfume to all his friends, guaranteed to drive them uncontrollably mad with lust? Perhaps. Did Rhys also have to sneak inside his friends’s minds to ensure they actually used the perfume, to make sure his small family was alone tonight? Maybe.

But it was Feyre’s birthday, and Nyx’s first Solstice. After everything he and Feyre had been through this year, all Rhys wanted was to spend their first Solstice as a family together, alone, just the three of them.

He loves his family, truly. But sometimes Mor and Cassian can get a little loud, and Elain and Lucien get a little too affectionate in public, and Amren mutters offhand remarks under her breath, and Azriel broods in the corner, despite Gwyn being all smiles around the room. It all just seemed too much this year, after the fucking horrendous year they’d had. A quiet day with his mate and their son was the only way Rhys wanted to spend the day.

“I wonder what happened to everyone,” Feyre says quietly, coming up to stand next to him at the window, Nyx in her arms. Their son had had a very busy day, between a delicious homemade breakfast, playing in the snow, unwrapping his new presents, and trying a bit of Feyre’s birthday cake, and he’s fighting to stay awake. “I hope they’re ok. Should we look in on—?”

“No!” Rhys interrupts, and Feyre and Nyx give him matching looks of surprise. “Uh, I’m sure they all had a long day and decided to spend time with their mates.”

Feyre gives him a long, searching look but doesn’t say anything. “Will you still have your annual snowball fight at the cabin in the morning?”

Rhys thinks of the perfume that Cassian and Az have, and how confident the fae was in her enchantment. “Actually, we all decided to postpone it this year, to spend more time with our mates and families.”

Feyre’s face lights up brighter than every star on Starfall combined, and Rhys would make the same decision to douse his friends and family in an aphrodisiac in a heartbeat, just to see his mate experience even a fraction of the happiness she’s feeling now. “That’s wonderful! Maybe the three of us can paint something together with those wonderful finger paints you got me.”

Nyx makes a happy, contented sigh from Feyre’s arms and Rhys smiles. The bond between him and Feyre glows strong and bright as the best Solstice Eve he’s ever had draws to a close. “I can’t wait.”

#nessianweek2023 #day 7: free day

82 notes · View notes