this was just an excuse to admire her legs

anonymous asked:

‘we’re on a roadtrip with some friends and we have to share a hotel room and there’s only one bed and a whole lot of sexual tension’ Nessian au

Nesta, Cassian and their friends stop at a hotel during their roadtrip. Now Nesta and Cassian are put in a room together. With only one bed to share. This leads to an evening where Nesta does everything in her power to make Cassian on edge after the endless amount of flirtatious remarks.

But she’s not the only one playing in this game. And Cassian isn’t one to admit defeat lightly.

“Are you seriously going to sleep in just your underwear?” Nesta jolted out of the bed with a glare. She didn’t mean to act so flustered, but she had never seen a man so confident in such a state of undress. Nor had she ever slept beside a half naked man. And she felt more unsettled that it was Cassian she would be sleeping with. 

Read on AO3 | TAGS: bed sharing, fluff, Cassian is a flirt, Nesta gives it back in full force


Nesta fumbled with the hotel key card as she tried to adjust her backpack that slouched precariously on her arm.

“Need help Nesta?” Cassian asked from behind her as he too held his own duffel bag on his arm.

“If you kept quiet for once that would helpful,” Nesta bit out as she swiped the card and the door opened with ease. She stepped into the darkened hotel room and flicked on the light switch.

Cassian followed behind her and both stopped dead in their tracks as they looked at the bed. One bed. Not two as they were told would be waiting for them.

“Are you kidding me?” Nesta asked and whipped out her phone to call Feyre who was in her own room with Rhysand. “This has to be some sort of joke or nightmare.”

“More like this is a dream,” Cassian laughed and launched himself onto the bed. His arms spread out wide as if they were wings. He took up most of the bed space with his large muscled body as he stretched out his torso that inadvertently caused his grey shirt to rise up enough that Nesta caught a hint the skin hidden underneath.

Nesta rolled her eyes at him and waited for Feyre to pick up the phone. Her sister failed to answer not once, but four times as Nesta continually tried to call. She received the same lack of response from Mor who was rooming with Azriel.

With a frustrated sigh Nesta made her way back to the door fully intending on going to the front desk to fix this problem.

“Where are you going?” Cassian eased up on his forearms to watch her grab her purse.

“What does it look like? We obviously can’t share this room together,” Nesta replied.

“Why not? You weren’t to opposed to it earlier,” Cassian raised a brow and the corner of his lips began to turn up in a smirk Nesta knew well enough.

“That was only because my sister and Mor guilt tripped me into staying with you so they could have some alone time with their boyfriends,” Nesta tried to push away the imagery that came with that sentence. She now had a good guess as to why none of them picked up their phones now. Which also meant there was no way she would be tempted to even knock on their doors for fear of hearing what may come from the other side.

“So what’s the big deal,” Cassian rolled back onto the bed, but turned his head to face Nesta who was reaching for the door. “Are you scared, because there’s only one bed?”

Nesta froze with her fingers mere inches from the door handle.

“Scared? Who said I was scared?” Nesta faced Cassian with ice in her eyes.

Cassian schooled his features. Making sure not to smile in triumph before shrugging with disinterest. “I’m not the one running out the room in a fluster.” He paused to raise a brow. “I never took you to be a woman who gives up so easily.”

And that did it. Nesta’s ire rose to new heights as she strode back into the room with lethal grace.

Her nose wrinkled in annoyance, but Cassian always found the little movement adorable. Especially when the rest of her face was hardened in stone. He knew that when her nostrils flared that is words were breaking down those walls of steel she kept up between her and the world.

“I’d say your repulsive stench is enough to make the entire floor leave the building,” Nesta sniffed the air once to add emphasis to her statement. “ There is no way I’m getting in that bed with you smelling like a pig.”

“Nothing a bath won’t fix,” Cassian gave her a cheeky grin. He didn’t smell bad. At least not as bad as everyone else from the road trip today. They all smelled faintly of sweat after hiking in the woods, but in the enclosed space of the car he could easily pick out Nesta’s faint scent among the others.

“Then why don’t you wash off the filth before you get it all on the bed,” Nesta waved to where he was still lounging on the bed.

“I’m going to go through my stuff first,” Cassian stood up and walked to where he put his bag at the foot of the bed. He looked up to see Nesta flicker her eyes from his backside up to where his eyes met hers.

Had she been checking him out? Cassian thought with a tinge of pride and excitement.

“Unless of course,” Cassian gave her his trademark cocky grin that always managed to get under her skin. “You would like to join me in the shower?”

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Summary: Layla Heartfilia promises her daughter that she’ll have herself a ring just as extravagant as her own one day, but Lucy finds that she’s a simpler kind of girl. 

A/N: …no excuse. just nalu fluff

“One day you’ll have a ring just like mine, I promise.”

The young girl’s eyes widened at her mother’s words, and she smiled from where she sat perched on Layla’s vanity. Her little legs swung back and forth as she admired the ornate ring that her mother wore proudly on her left hand. Her daddy was always so quick to boast that he’d found the best diamond in all of Fiore, just for the sake of putting it on his wife’s finger. 

“I get a wing like yours, momma?" 

Layla Heartfilia smiled as she turned away from the mirror, pecking her daughter’s cheek and leaving behind a red outline. 

"A ring, sweetie. Remember to practice your r’s while mommy and daddy are away at the banquet tonight." 

"Okay, momma.” Lucy giggled as her mother kissed her once more, this time on the very tip of her nose. 

“A ring just like mine, Lucy.” Her mother winked, and there was a knowing, hint of a smile on her rosy lips. “I’m sure of it." 

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Beauty in All She Is (Submission)

(Takes place during rehearsals for week 6, the day after Val storms out)

There’s one move she can’t quite get- one of the turns where she has to twist her legs just right. The problem is that she’s twisting them all wrong, getting tangled in herself, losing her balance. She understands what she needs to do, but understanding and executing are two entirely different things. He’s given her all the tools she needs to execute it, and he knows she’ll have it down by Monday, so now all he can do is step back and give her the time to work it out.

He moves to the back of the studio to grab his water bottle, leaving her in front of the mirror to work on that damn turn. She’s so close to getting it, she just has to turn her right leg a fraction of a second sooner and the rest should go smoothly. It’s really not a difficult turn, just fast, and he knows that that fact is killing her. She knows she’s done much harder steps without a problem, so the fact that one simple turn is throwing her off has really gotten into her head.

Then, without warning, her legs finally twist a little too much and he almost chokes on his sip of water as she loses her balance and falls hard on her bottom with a sickening thud. For a moment time seems to stand still. He knows that he should be running over to help her up, but something inside him tells him to just wait and watch. If she starts to melt down like he suspects she will, then he’ll intervene. Then he’ll pick her up off the floor and get them back on track. They can forget about the stupid turn for now and get her mind onto something else.

But she doesn’t melt down. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths, and then she’s back on her feet. The pain she’s feeling shows on her face, but she doesn’t complain, doesn’t say a word. She resets in front of the mirror, taking a long moment to stare down her own reflection, then sets her jaw and tries the turn again.

And that’s when it clicks.

He can’t explain the feeling exactly, just that it hits him like a wave from a tsunami and he has to physically brace himself against the wall because he’s not sure if his legs will hold him. It feels like the world has suddenly come into focus, and there she is front and center. He watches her stumble and reset, squaring her shoulders and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before trying the turn again, and a voice inside of him as clear as the sky on a hot summer day says I love this girl.

His heart aches with the realization. The fact that he liked her was no secret- he’d been in a pissy mood all week and even stormed out on her the day before because he couldn’t get over how grabby she and Artem had been last week. But that was different. That was jealousy and lust. This? This is love.

And there’s no reason for it. There is no reason whatsoever that her falling and getting back up should have made him fall in love with her, except that it did. Except that maybe this feeling isn’t as new as it feels. Maybe it’s been building inside of him ever since that moment he opened the door to the studio and found her sitting at the piano waiting for him. Maybe this was just the water droplet that broke the dam. Seeing her determination to work through the pain, to keep going even though she’d been working on this turn for half an hour already, just gave him the final push he needed to put things into perspective.

He chugs his water, needing to feel something to know that this is really happening. He tries to tell himself that it’s stupid, that he just admires her spirit. After all she’s got more spirit than anyone else he knows. She sets her mind on something and she does it- she never gives up or complains or makes excuses she just gets it done. That’s what he loves about her.

That’s why he loves her.

And suddenly he’s almost choking on his water again, because she finally gets the turn. Her legs finally twist at the right times, and instead of stumbling she manages it almost exactly how she should. He sets down his water, ready to congratulate her, but she’s already resetting and doing the turn again, and again. She does it three more times until it’s smooth, then lets out a deep sigh, resting with her hands on her hips.

“You got it,” he says with a grin, coming back to join her on the dance floor. His heart is still pounding, but he’s trying to ignore it, trying to just focus on her triumph. It’s hard when she blinks up at him with those big beautiful eyes, sweat glistening on her skin in a way he finds weirdly attractive. But then she’s rolling those big beautiful eyes at him, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

She stares at him indignantly, chest heaving now with annoyance in addition to exhaustion.

“That’s not what I meant.”

There’s a deep plunging feeling inside of him, like his heart has dropped into his stomach. Normally she’d be excited to get a challenging step down, she’d be jumping up and down, asking about a million times if he had seen her. But now she just shakes her head and turns back towards the mirror.

“Whatever. Can we go over the middle part again?”

She doesn’t wait for his answer, just gets into position and waits for him to follow. And as he moves to where he needs to be, the gnawing feeling in his chest settles into a dull ache. She’s still sour about him walking out yesterday, and maybe she always will be. Maybe even if they can keep working together it will be like this. Maybe his sudden realization of just what she means to him is his punishment for the way he’s been treating her this week. Because as they start to go over the dance again she’s entirely focused on herself and her movements, only paying any attention to him when they come together in the dance, and it becomes abundantly clear to him that any chance of her reciprocating his feelings has been entirely lost.

So as she steps away from him to nail that now perfect turn he files this newfound feeling of love away. With time, he hopes, it will burn itself out.

Olicity: Enlightenment

Prompt: Smut to make up for all the angst

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Summer with Felicity becomes his favourite time of year, purely for her wardrobe choices. He loved winter and the way her large sweaters swamped her in the foundry, and the way spring brought with it the knee-length dresses and how the covered heels came out in winter. Whether it was him or the heat that bought the clothes from her body, all Oliver knew was that he loved summer.

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