SHADOW AND BONE ↳ 1.05: Show Me Who You Are

I am looking for a fanfic set during acowar where cassian and nesta are sort of together and they share a bed in his tent, I don't remember much more, but please tell me if you find anything like this.

Her me out... Tamlin and Nesta are mates

A scary though just came to me rn

What if somehow Sarah j mass decides to ruin us and kill us by making Az and nesta mates .....

I-

No

No that would never happen hopefully

My manifestations for today

Cassian and nests are mates

Az ends up with someone who deserves him

Az does not die

Tamilin is no more a sad and feeling sorry for himself kind of person but decides to change and become a better person

Freysands child is born and lives

Elain and Az are rly close friends and NOTHING more eventho I rly rly want them to be lovers

And everything is perfect

Good at Starting Fires

I really hated the overly sexualised way that Cassian looked at Nesta in ACOSAF and ACOSF when he commented on her drastic weight loss. Instead of being concerned that she was losing weight at a drastic pace he was more ‘boobs man, great they’re still there’ and it wound me up no end.

I was sent a prompt by an anon that said 'angsty Nessian set in the Illyrian camp where Cassian sees Nesta in her underwear for the first time’ and I found that I wanted to try and right that 'wrong’ in relation to the above. Probably not quite what the requestor had in mind but hey ho.

Some mention of weight loss and concerns surrounding it.

***

The rain lashed onto Cassian’s exposed skin.

The deluge hadn’t turned into a full storm quite yet but still, this was the worst weather he had seen in a long while, the wind barrelling into him warranting his full concentration in order to continue to fly upright.

Cassian would have chanced some different manoeuvres to make flight easier but he wasn’t flying alone.

The female in his arms had said nothing to him since they left the ground, perhaps planning to ignore him for the remainder of their eternal lives. Cassian would usually provoke her into retaliating against some jibe but tonight, with thick darkness surrounding them and the harsh pelt of the cold rain against their skin, goading wasn’t suitable.

Instead, Cassian flew through the onslaught, clutching onto a shivering Nesta.

Keep reading

Warning: Toxic Relationship

I

It takes weeks before Cassian begins to understand why she left. And if that isn't symbolic of their relationship he doesn't know what is.

Nesta knowing better, being better, as he trots behind. Coated in the arrogance of ignorance, always righteous until he's not, always catching the rhythm a beat too late.

*

He is a goner from their first meeting, leaning against the bedecked wall, grin growing as he watches her rip apart Rhysand's familiar monologue bemoaning the generous Christmas holidays he offers his workers (mostly under pressure from himself and Azriel).

She takes apart his brother's feeble justifications with the precision of a surgeon, irate expression contrasting beautifully with the festive and absolutely horrendous confection of lights and yarn she is wearing.

She is bewitching.

He waits, nursing his drink, quiet for once, eager for a chance to introduce himself.

He is enthralled.

*

It takes three encounters to get her number and an embarrassingly sincere drunk confession to obtain a date.

Then in pieces, in the compounding fragments of the trust he earns, they become a pair.

*

Their relationship, his life's great love affair had always been loud. Screaming, fighting, laughing, fucking. Always wild, careless in their abandon, in their feckless behaviour as they jumped off the cliff, intertwined.

So why was Nesta's departure so quiet?

The muted rolling of a suitcase on carpet barely disturbing him from sleep. The ring left to catch morning light on the side table until he'd copped it on his way to work and rolled his eyes. Nesta is in a huff and he is indignant, ready to whinge to Azriel.

It's six months later, on their anniversary, that he sees Nesta's ending wasn't quiet.

He just wasn't listening.

*

It takes three days for him to realise she isn't coming back.

Convinced she'll return with the bang of a door, with sharp words he'll take and worse ones he'll offer in return. That after some makeup sex the ring will be home on her finger and he'll be thumbing through a wedding magazine before bed.

This misplaced confidence keeps him from calling. To let her cool off. Leads him to saunter to the apartment door Saturday morning only donning grey joggers. Wanting the upper hand, wanting to see Nesta flush so prettily and clench her jaw tightly, seeing right through his feeble tactics.   

Gwyn and Emerie, stony faces and empty cardboard boxes in hand, become a live audience to the destruction of his world. 

He stands stunned, head reeling as Nesta is removed from their apartment. He finds himself carrying out boxes of her books. All he wants is to take it all back - slam the door in their faces like a child - because she can't just do this. But more importantly he needs to find Nesta. So a willing pack horse he becomes, trying to wheedle information from Gwyn.

His voice shaking, tears gathering, bile rising in his throat. 

"Do you know where she is?"

A nod.

"Will you tell me please Gwyn?"

Her red curls shake, a strong refusal. 

"I didn't realise she was being serious, I swear."

 Gwyn stops in her tracks, head turning sharply to bestow a look that calls him an idiot in five languages.

*

When his house is emptied of anything that is her, anything he could not save, he returns to the ring still on the sidetable despite him begging Gwyn and Emerie to return it to Nesta. 

It is the only time they look upon him with an ounce of pity which only makes it worse. Pity is for those who have lost. He cannot lose Nesta. There is not a universe he can fathom where he does not belong to her.

The ring he cradles in battered hands amidst shattered glass and splintered oak.

His blood an artful, awful, Pollackesque smattering over the mess.

Flimsy furnishings seeming a small casualty when his heart is now a necrotic organ burning in his chest.

The ring he picked,

with a white dress,

a honeymoon in Paris,

the rest of their life, in mind.

A silent killing blow.

*

One last blazing row the night before.

Cuts landing too deep this time.

The final fragment of a trust he'd once treasured sacredly, spent so terribly,

"Who the fuck could stand you Nesta when I can't?"

It makes his stomach turn with sickening guilt. He would stitch those words into his skin with wire rather than say them to her now.

He'd like to think he's a different man, maybe a better one, but that's up to her.

She's the only deity he wants to weigh his soul.

He'll come up wanting.

But maybe...

Maybe she'd look at him.

Face him.

Let him burn alive in the grey fire of her glare.

He would delight in his damnation to have her look at him once more.

*

Saturday is a haze. Rhys and Az try to coax him out to no avail. His pain is raw. Anger, frustration, desperation a tumour growing unchecked in his chest. The broken sidetable now possessing a broken vase, two pictures frames and three tumblers to match it. 

She isn't answering his calls, vision blurry from tears and drink, the blue light of his phone is the only thing he can focus on in a world that is swimming. Her contact, Nes 🖤, a beacon, a wavering light, keeping him from going under. 

She isn't answering his calls and so the voicemails begin. 

"I have your ring. Sweetheart I'm not taking that back. It's yours. I'm yours... Nesta please just talk to me. I'm sorry about Wednesday night. Come back and we can talk."

Beep.

"What is this about Nes? We fight rough, always have baby. I'll do anything, say anything, get you anything you want just please Nes don't do this. We can get a fucking dog. I swear. We'll move to a different apartment. We can open a fucking dog hotel if that is what you want just.."

Beep.

"Tell me you're safe. Please. I'm going out of my mind here. I love you. More than anything."

Beep.

"Mor was right, you know you're such a fucking bitch sometimes. I'm trying to apologise when you left without a word. Fuck you sweetheart."

Beep.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. That came out wrong, I didn't mean it, just I..I'm beginning to think you're not coming back to me. This isn't goodbye Nes right? Right?"

Beep.

"Just punish me in person, I'll grovel for you Nes, you know that..........It's just a break. It's just a break. That's okay sweetheart you can have it all. Anything you want. Just talk to me first. Talk to me."

Beep.

"I love you. More than anyone else ever has, will or can. Just. If you're going to shred my heart. Do it in person. Do it in person and I'll walk away. Otherwise I'm going to fight you tooth and fucking nail love."

Beep.

The last voicemail a gauntlet thrown by a drunk fool. A sealing of their fate. 

*

She arrives on Sunday. Suitable for it to be a holy day if this is one last visit from his god.

He is relieved to see her.

Drunken promises of walking away temporarily forgotten. She had texted him an hour before to let him know she was on her way. Giving him time to put the house back in order, air out the smell of alcohol, sweat and despair. He's in his nicest jeans, hair tied in a low bun just how she likes. In the bedroom he has candles and rose petals, ready to worship her.

He wants to remind her she loves him, or she at least she did once.

Purple is painted in the hollows under her eyes, a slight tremor in her hand, greasy hair falling limply around her drawn face.

She looks terrible. Still the most stunning person he knows.

This is his doing.

He'd rather Az pummel him in the ring than see her like this. The aching in his chest makes it hard to breathe. He's made a mistake forcing her hand. 

She looks around, avoiding his gaze, eyebrows raising slightly at the very absent sidetable. She'd been so happy when they found that at old flea market off Washington St. when they first moved in together.

He should have thought of that before he left it in splinters. 

"There was an accident. I fell, you know how clumsy I get Nes. The table never stood a chance."

Her eyes land on him, and now it's him that can't bear to look, hand rubbing on his neck nervously, focusing on his white socks.

The silence is choking him.

"It's okay. It's okay. We'll get one just like it. I'll check Ebay. I'll ask Amren, she prowls around all the good antique shops. I'll make a replica if I have to. Lucien knows an excellent carpenter. I can fix it Nes. I promise."

He can fix it. He can fix this.

He meets her gaze and wants to vomit.

She looking at him with care, tears running down her face, voice barely audible.

"Cassian. We can't be fixed."

He can't think, he can't breathe, the world is on its axis and she's going to leave. The distance between them has vanished, he's on his knees, soft carpet beneath them a luxury he does not deserve, burying his face in the cotton of her tshirt hands wrapped around her waist. 

"No. Nes, no. You can't do that. You can't leave. I'm going to convince you to stay. That's why you're here. You want to stay. I love you. I love you. I love you. I can't be without you."

Pulling his hands from her waist she kneels beside him, caressing his face.

"I'm here to end it in person like you asked."

Her voice and his heart break simultaneously.

'I love you too Cassian... I...I can't live like this anymore. I cannot be both your Madonna and your whore. And we know exactly which one your friends think I am."

The words friends is spat out.

'It's either worship or war. So much fighting...a ren't you tired? '

A breath that holds a future.

'I'm so tired Cassian. I need more. I need to be by myself for a while. I need someone you're not Cas."

And on the exhale he sees all his plans dissipate amidst the dust motes that hang in the air.

This is what hell feels like. He's being excommunicated for his sins. She's even doing it in person.

His god, so cruel and alluring.

"I'm leaving now Cas. I'm moving away for a while. A clean break will be good for us. You'll thank me for doing this one day."

She let's out something that an alien might count as a laugh. Nervous and watery, choked and uncertain.

"I'll never thank you for this Nes."

His voice is dark and maybe he knows sin better than he once thought because her flinch in response feels better than he'd like it to.

They are one. No matter what she says. They should hurt as one too. 

She leaves.

He's still kneeling hours later her words a painful, unending echo in his mind.

*

He doesn't go out much now and drinking himself numb in this empty apartment is not who he is anymore.

But on their anniversary he let's himself drown in rum, in albums, in the box of her stuff he managed to keep after Gwyn and Emerie cleared house.

He cries into that stupid fucking Christmas jumper.

He sprays her bottle of perfume, letting the vanilla, blackberry, sage sink into the air, a ghostly embrace. Sitting amidst his shrine to her he allows himself to reflect.

Regret every overlooked sneer and snide comment. He doesn't see any of his friends, his brothers anymore. Nesta doesn't like them.

Rue every time he came home late, missed a date, was too tired to talk. He has a new job now, remote with flexible hours. It pays less but he still has his stocks and the nest egg he built breaking his back working for over a decade.

Rhys was frantic to keep him on. Bullshit talk about how he was spiralling, how she wasn't worth it. Punching that remark from his mouth, in front of the board, forced his termination quite effectively.

He has enough for Nesta to retire in the morning. He has enough to buy that fancy brie she likes, and handpainted books, and enough jewellery to fill a small store. He has enough to stay beside her so she won't have to miss him. 

He's even bigger now, all his free time spent in the gym, ignoring how eating so much protein makes him feel. She always liked feeling safe in his arms.

He's read all her books. Found her Goodreads and follows it like his gospel. Has watched every show, every podcast she consumed on their accounts.

He'll share all her likes. He'll never fight her on anything.

Once he earns her forgiveness they can be happy again.

*

She's coming back to town next month. A flying visit apparently. He's going to change that.

His chance is coming to show her how much better is.

The type of man she needs. The type she'll never leave. 

II

Would you consider a part 2 for the fic where nesta just does as she’s told? Maybe where Cassian confronts the inner circle about it?

Pretty please <3

I’m not sure this is the closure people are looking for from this but uh … this is what came out. Sorry everyone.

Feyre rolled her eyes before Cassian could even finish speaking. It wasn’t like her, to be so dismissive. But that look in her blue-grey eyes, so alive that it twisted his gut thinking of the shade, it was pure dismissal.

“Listen, Cass,” she sighed, as if speaking to Nyx when he wouldn’t finish his mushed up sweet potatoes. “I … I don’t know what went on between you and my sister in the war. I know that she pushes your buttons and I know that you two have your … whatever it is, but just because Nesta doesn’t want to play that game anymore doesn’t mean anything is wrong with her. She’s finally herself again.”

“No she isn’t,” Cassian insisted. “She’s … I don’t know, faking it. Going through the motions. She’s -“

“Healing,” Feyre said with yet another sigh. “She’s healing, Cassian.”

“She’s numb, Feyre. And I swear to the Cauldron if you sigh at me one more time-“

“You haven’t known her as long as I have!” Feyre crossed her arms over her chest, clearly fighting back a fucking sigh. “You didn’t know her when she was young. Before we lost everything …” Feyre swallowed hard, shifting on her toes. “This is what she was like. Free, unburdened, quiet. I’m sorry that you liked the version of her that was bitter and afraid, but that wasn’t her. Not really. This is her.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian spat. “You said it yourself months ago. Nesta is like a wolf who never got to be a wolf. If she acted like this when you were rich humans it was only because she thought that’s what the world wanted from her!” Cassian knew Nesta. Feyre was her sister, had known her longer, but Cassian … Cassian knew her. In his bones, in his soul, the piece of him that was … not missing, that wasn’t how to describe it. The piece of him that was reaching. It knew. He knew.

This was not Nesta.

“Even if that is true,” Feyre sighed, “it just proves my point. She is healing. Finally. It took me so long to remember who I was again and Nesta … she’s been through so much. We all have.”

Suddenly, Cassian understood why Nesta snapped when he tried to shove stories about Rhys and Feyre and their special little journey’s down her throat.

“She. Is. Not. Ok.”

“She is,” Feyre spat. Hands tightening and jaw clenching. “She is fine. My family is finally together and happy and I won’t let you ruin it because she won’t fuck you, Cassian!”

Cassian stumbled back three steps. Feyre’s hand flew to her mouth. “I didn’t. Cassian I didn’t mean that. I know-”

“It’s fine, Feyre.” Cassian held his hands up in surrender. “I get it.”

And he did.

He should have gotten it a long time ago.

It was never about Nesta or her behaviour or her power. It was about Feyre, it had always been about Feyre.

Rhys’s plan, the insistence on training, it wasn’t about Nesta.

Nesta never wanted to be a warrior. She said it herself, there are other ways to be strong.

The plan … the entire plan had never been about Nesta.

It was about Feyre.

Fixing Nesta when she was never broken.

Creating impossible choices.

Using him to manipulate her.

No one had ever cared if Nesta got better. They only cared that Feyre was happy. That Feyre had her family. That nothing upset Feyre after everything she went through.

And the worst part of it all was that Cassian couldn’t even blame anyone. He couldn’t blame Feyre for wanting to believe that everything was finally fine. He couldn’t blame Rhys for doing all of this because … he was doing everything he could to protect his mate. To make her happy.

The same thing that Cassian was supposed to do for Nesta.

He was supposed to be the one on her side the way Rhys was on Feyre’s.

Complete loyalty.

He was supposed to protect her, and instead he broke her.

Failed her in every way a male could possibly fail.

Nesta Archeron had lived through a war, had removed multiple heads with her bare hands, had been shoved into the freezing waters of good and evil and creation itself and had her humanity ripped away.

But none of that broke her.

None of that was the worst thing to happen to her.

He was.

A concept...

Nesta x Eris Vanserra brotp

Just hear me out ok?! Ok. Thank you.

Understanding each other when the whole world is against them.

Eris about to throw hands but getting THAT look from Nesta and shutting his mouth.

Eris and Nesta gossiping about everyone like, “Love his jacket” - “he might be a dick but he sure has good taste”

Imagine Morrigan’s shock, imagine the inner circle’s shock. 

I’d live for the drama. Full on. 

Call me a bitch but… Feyre understanding that Nesta can make friends outside of the IC… as can Lucien.

Nesta would be his confidant and he would be hers. 

I honestly think Eris would protect Nesta from the venomous snake that is Morrigan (My hate for her is deep and don’t even bother trying to change it)

“Don’t talk to her like that. whatever problem you might have with me, DO NOT DEMEAN NESTA.”

I also think that Nesta would protect Eris from Cassian and Azriel. Like we all know mami is a fucking physco (I aspire to be like that) so she’d probably just jump in between like”Move Nesta”- “make me” while Eris is trying to subtly push her outta the way

“DON’T TOUCH ME VANSERRA,”

“yes ma’am.” 

Cassian’s jealousy

Nesta getting mad at Cassian because he belittles him at every chance he gets as does Eris and she just watches them fight.

I’m basically seeing Nesta just in the middle saying a Veronica lodge line:

“I can’t stand the male toxicity in this room.” every time they fight.

The IC might make peace with Eris because if Nesta knows the truth, what happened and why he did what he did then they might…ya never know.

Matching outfits. 

And the most important thing:

He would belong solely to her and no one else.

He’d make her laugh and she’d make him show his true self to the world.

The Queen of Death and the Lord of fire. 

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

You have no right💔

“You’re going to die,” Lucien said. “I’m aware of it every moment I’m with you.”  

At the morbid words, Nesta began to frown but Lucien held up his hands. Wait, his look answered. 

Ordinarily Nesta might have interrupted him purely out of principle. But Lucien was lucky she knew him so well. He looked at her with that same look she’d seen a million times. One for every chase. One for every tease. One for everyday they laughed. 

He sighed, some noncommittal, frustrated sound and Nesta yearned to reach for him, to comfort him, but Lucien placed a gentle palm on her cheek. She could feel them burn as he rubbed his thumb across. “Even if you could live forever, I think I’d still be afraid to lose you.” 

Seguir leyendo

Be the first who ever did

unhappily married nessian one-shot, angst, hurt/comfort, nesta is sick

-

“Okay,” Cassian says, brushing by her, “I’m off. I’ll see you tonight at Helion’s.” He grabs his coat off the rack and swings it around his shoulders. “Don’t be late, alright? Six o’clock.”

Nesta leans against the kitchen counter and nods. She’s never late. She’d be excommunicated by her husband’s friends—not that she’d really mind. He puts his hand on her shoulder and brushes a kiss to her forehead. “Bye,” she says, but his back is turned and he’s pretty much gone.

Without him and his interruptions, his footsteps on the penthouse floor, the place is coldly quiet. Nesta pads to the bathroom and starts to run water for a bath. It’s too cold today to do anything, and her head hurts, anyway. Sometimes Feyre will call and ask her to take care of Nyx, but there’s been no hurried voicemail today, no blinking time on the phone, and she knows the rest of the day will pass in the way of most others: slow, like molasses, tired and dripping, until someone cleans it up in time for the party, the dinner, the gala, the whatever. She puts a hand to her head and fumbles around in the cabinet for painkillers. After she takes a bath she’ll figure out what she’s going to wear tonight.

Out of the bath, she only feels worse. She pins up her hair and ties her robe, then goes to the guest room where she keeps all her clothes. There’s a lot of clothes. Being married to the general of the Night Court gives her a lot of money and a lot of time and a lot of clothes. Numbly she looks through the racks, head spinning.

Seguir leyendo

Butter My Muffin [Nessian]

Prompt: Based on a post I saw about how Nesta is very soft girlfriend in private with Cassian combined with how I picture Drunk!Nesta. | Originally posted on 01.02.2018 Genre: Fluff/Humor Rating: SFW

The smell of something baking in the kitchen had Cassian pausing in the doorway of his townhouse. With a raised brow, he quietly shut the door and made his way down the hall and towards the kitchen where Nesta was...humming?

Cassian leaned against the doorframe, watching as his beautiful mate and girlfriend stood in the middle of their kitchen, whipping something in a bowl and humming to herself.

Nesta didn’t cook.

She didn’t bake either.

She definitely didn’t do either of those things while humming.

The only reason she went into the kitchen was to eat the food that Cassian provided for her. He had attempted to teach her how to cook but Nesta usually distracted him enough that Cassian ended up doing everything himself.

Seeing her now, Cassian was very confused. Pleasantly surprised, but nonetheless confused.

“Nes?”

Her head shot up and Cassian bit back a grin at her expression. Flour was streaked on her cheeks, tongue sticking out in concentration and with the way she was holding the bowl, it seemed she was trying to tackle the mix rather than actually mix it.

Her hair was slowly coming out of the loose bun she had it in and she was dressed in tights and one of his shirts. She had never looked more beautiful.

“Cassian!” A smile blossomed on her face, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. “You’re home!”

He smiled back at her and made his way over to her, surveying the incredible mess she had made; pots and pans scattered around, mixing utensils thrown about, and flour on practically every surface. His eyes landed on the three bottles of wine toppled over in the corner and everything suddenly made sense.

“Hey, sweetness. Been busy?” he asked, concern flickering across his face as she started cursing at the bowl.

“I’m making muffins!” she answered brightly then frowned again. “But the mix stopped working.”

She shoved the bowl into his hands then reconsidered, taking it back to shove it on the counter and practically tackled him, throwing her arms around him instead.

“I missed you.” she said, nuzzling into his neck. “You were gone for soooo long.”

Cassian chuckled, wrapping his arms around her waist, fully aware that she had just covered him with flour. “It was only for a few hours at the camps...you uh, found the wine?”

Nesta pulled back and gave him another bright smile. “Yes! I don’t know why I didn’t like it at first. It’s really good. I opened a fourth one. It’s almost finished.”

His brows raised in surprise as he hoisted her up, seating her on the counter next to the momentarily forgotten bowl of mixing blob. “Four bottles of wine? Alone?”

“Mmm.” she said with a nod then smiled again. “And I’m making muffins!”

Cute was not a word anyone would generally use to describe Nesta. Breathtaking was one, devastating was another. Terrifying usually came up at times. Gorgeous, beautiful, and stunning were all words people could describe Nesta with but cute? Cute was not a common one. Neither was adorable but at this moment in time, Cassian thought she was absolutely fucken adorable.

Cassian wrapped his arms around her waist again and leaned against her, tilting his head up to look at her. Nesta immediately brought her hands up to run her fingers through his hair, shaking it out of the usual bun and spreading the flour further.

“Baking and wine generally aren’t a good combination, sweetheart.” he said amused. “Definitely not a safe one either.”

“Well. you’re home now so I’ll be safe with you.” she replied with a small smile and Cassian’s heart swelled.

“I love you.” he whispered and Nesta Archeron, the woman who had decapitated the head of the King of Hybren, giggled.

“I love you too.” she replied, kissing him on the nose then poking it. “Boop.”

Cassian laughed softly. “Boop? I like this side of you, Nesta. Drunk you is very adorable. Is this why no one has ever seen you drunk?”

“Mmm, it’s because I don’t like other people but I like you. I like your face. You’re like a puppy. I have to boop you.” she replied then poked his nose again. “Boop boop.”

Cassian laughed again then leaned up, claiming her lips and Nesta hummed happily, pulling him tightly against her. They kissed softly, sensually, as if they had all the time in the world. The way they always kissed in the early mornings when they woke up together and Cassian’s body heated at the way her scent intensified around him. Pulling away, he smiled, admiring how her cheeks were flushed and the way her lips always looked so damn kissable. How had he gotten so lucky?

“Do you need help cleaning up, love?”

“No. I’m not done making the muffins!” she replied, wiggling her nose. “I finished two batches. Go try one and get me one too!”

Cassian shot her an amused look then turned to find the two batches of mini muffins she was referring to.

Half of them were burnt causing Cassian to snort. As expected.

Picking off two that seemed edible, he brought one back to his mate who was innocently swinging her legs as she sat and he handed it to her. She beamed at him then promptly took a bite. Cassian watched her chew thoughtfully then lick her lips after she swallowed.

Cassian could watch her do the most mundane things all day and it would be utterly fascinating.

“The verdict?” he asked, his lips twitching.

“It needs...wine.” she replied with a drunken giggle and pointed to the open bottle across the counter. Cassian chuckled then obediently walked over, grabbed it and took a swing of it himself before handing it to her.

He watched her take another bite of the muffin then immediately drink from the bottle. She hummed happily and he grinned, watching her chew in this most absurdly childish way. Where were the others to witness this? Why was he the only one aware of the phenomenon that is drunk Nesta?

Probably because she’d murder everyone in sight if they did witness this. Gods, he loved her.

“Better?” he asked and she nodded with a grin then pointed with a delicate finger towards the finished batches of muffins again.

“Can I have another one, please?”

“Well aren’t you adorable using manners, Nes.” he teased, moving to bring the entire tray near her and she squinted at him, debating whether she should be offended or not. Instead, she crinkled her nose.

“I’m always adorable.”

“I agree.” he replied and watched with a satisfied grin as she tore into another muffin. “Is that one good then?”

She nodded then eyed the one he had left on the counter for himself. “Eat yours! Tell me what you think!” she urged him, waving her hands frantically in excitement as she chewed on hers. He chuckled and with a stupid smile on his face, popped his own muffin in his mouth, chewed, then immediately gagged.

It was disgusting.

Nesta blinked at him as he tried to swallow but dear gods, had she poured all the salt in the house into this one muffin?

Her face fell and her bottom lip immediately started to tremble as he coughed. He reached out and grabbed the bottle of wine to wash down the taste.

“Do you hate it? Is it awful? You hate it!” she immediately rambled and he shook his head.

“No, no sweetheart! It tastes perfect! It was just...so sweet for me. Almost too sweet!” he insisted even as his eyes watered slightly and Nesta looked at him suspiciously.

“So you like it?” she asked in a small voice that had him melting. He’d eat every single one of them if she insisted.

“I loved it, Nes. They taste so good.” he lied and attempted what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Satisfied with his answer, Nesta nodded with a sniffle and sat back, grabbing another muffin and popping it into her mouth. Cassian watched her, wondering if her tastebuds had ceased to function.

“What else did you do today, love?”

“I went with Feyre to the theater. Rhys came and they kept having eye sex so I cursed them out and left.” she replied, licking her lips. “I wanted you to be there so we can have eye sex and make them uncomfortable but you weren’t.”

Cassian snorted. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We can do that next time we have dinner with them.”

“Okay.” she replied and grinned at him widely, then wiggled her fingers for him to hand her another muffin. His brow raised in amusement but he handed her another one.

“Any particular reason you decided on muffin baking today?”

“Because they’re good.” she replied simply, taking another drink from the wine then pouted when she found it empty and held it out to him. “It’s empty.”

“Good.”

“No, I want another one.”

“I think that’s enough wine for today, Nes. You’re going to hate yourself tomorrow morning.”

“I bought black lacy lingerie when I went out today. You’ll like it.” she said, giving him a sly smile that wasn’t quite as sly with her eyes drunkenly glazed over and Cassian rolled his eyes.

“You can’t bribe me with lingerie when there’s a chance you’ll make yourself sick.” he replied, moving to grab a bottle of water instead and hand it to her.

“Mmm, maybe. You do prefer me naked.” she said, eyeing the bottle of water with disdain and handing it back.

“That I do.” He said with a kiss to her cheek, opening the bottle of water and giving her a stern look as he held it out to her again. She squinted at him then sighed, drinking half of it before handing it back to him.

“I prefer you naked too. You’re so hot.” she replied, pointing to another muffin. His eyes flickered between her face and the tray of muffins. Had her stomach turned into a black pit? Was this how she was balancing the wine?

“You sure you don’t want to pace yourself with the muffins, sweetheart?” he asked slowly, hesitantly handing her another one. She grabbed it out of his hand and popped it in her mouth with a shake of her head.

“I like muffins. I don’t eat them enough. They’re really good. I worked very hard on them.” she rattled off after swallowing, then gestured around wildly with her hands. “Look how hard I worked! Look at everything! I worked so hard on my muffins.”

Cassian’s lips twitched as he held back a laugh. Wine, he decided was a great drink for Nesta.

He smirked at her. “Can I butter your muffin, Nesta?” he asked, a question that would’ve surely gotten him punched had she been sober but drunk Nesta only looked at him funny. Her gaze went from his face to the muffin in her hand and she leaned back, cradling the muffin to her chest.

“Why would you want to butter my muffin? It’s mine! You can have your own.”

Cassian snorted. “Not the muffin I’m talking about, sweetheart.”

“That’s not nice, Cassian. You don’t have to be greedy, I made two batches. Go find your own muffin to butter.”

“But I would really like to butter yours.” he said, giving her his signature shit-eating grin and she paused. He wondered if she’d punch him then.

Instead, Nesta squinted at him and without breaking eye contact, casually moved the muffin tray behind her, away from him.

“If you touch my muffins, I’ll wax your chest while you sleep.” she deadpanned and Cassian blinked before doubling over in laughter.

Nesta stared at him in confusion as tears of laughter streamed down his face and he held onto the counter to stop himself from collapsing onto the floor. It took him longer than he expected to stop laughing.

“Oh Nesta.” he finally said breathlessly. “I think that’s enough muffins for tonight. Let’s get cleaned up, hm?”

She paused mid-chew and her eyes went to the tray behind her then met his eyes again. “You won’t eat my muffins?”

“Unless I want to wake up screaming in agony, I think not.” he replied and lifted her off the counter. Nesta popped the last muffin in her mouth and immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, settling her head on his shoulder as they made their way to the bathroom. “Tell you what, you can even have the muffins in the second batch too.”

“That’s really nice of you. You’re so nice, Cas.” she asked with a drunken smile, nuzzling into his neck and he chuckled.

“You do look really cute eating them.”

“I’m not cute, I’m powerful.” she mumbled, evidently exhausted from her baking.

“You can be both.” he mused, his lips twitching again.

“Mmmm, I could beat you up right now if I wanted to.” she said matter-of-factly, her eyes fluttering shut.

“I know.” He said with a laugh, kissing the top of her head.

As they finally reached the bathroom, Cassian realized why Nesta never got drunk in front of others. She rambled. She rambled a lot. An hour later, Cassian had scrubbed them both clean, braided Nesta’s hair and tucked her into bed and she had yet ceased telling her stories.

“I was reading this book the other day about a girl that’s an assassin and she kills people really well.”

“Oh yeah? That sounds interesting.” he said, kissing the top of her head as he pulled the blanket around her.

“I want to be an assassin. I could kill people.” she said and made stabbing gestures. “Thwup thwup!”

“You do remember the part you played in the war, right?” he asked, his brows raised but she ignored him.

“Another story I read was about a group of friends going on a dangerous heist together. Can we go on a heist? I want to go on a heist.”

“Sure, Nes. Whenever you want.”

“Okay. But Cassian?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have another muffin?”

“I love you, but no.” he replied and laughed when she pouted. “I’m going to go clean up and tomorrow morning, you can have all the muffins you want.”

“All of them?” she asked with an excited smile.

“Every single one of them.”

Nesta smiled sleepily at him and Cassian was overwhelmed by how much love he felt for her at that moment.

“Come here.” she whispered to him and he leaned forward. She gently cupped his face and kissed him softly on the lips then on his nose and then on both of his cheeks. “I love you. More than all the muffins in the world.”

He smiled at her softly, leaning in to kiss her lips. “I love you more than life itself, sweetheart.”

“And guess what?” She whispered again and he raised a brow.

“What?”

“You’re my favorite muffin.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, grinning. “Well, guess what?”

“Mm?”

“You’re my favorite muffin, too.”