#but maybe I’ll put them on at 11 when I start working again since I’ll already be miserable (graphic design my beloathèd)

[whentherewerebicycles]

goooood morning from my beautiful green living room. we got up at 6:15 today (sleeping in lol). I have had a busy morning so far—long meeting with my boss + shorter meetings with the HR team and my team lead. but now I am done with being on calls for the day and can dig into this stupid graphic design work (HUGE sigh). I do not want to do it at ALL so I am trying to break it down into smaller steps.

distill this super unwieldy overview they gave me into a simplified timeline

look at canva + articulate for timeline options (choose the simplest possible version)

input info into timeline graphic

finish copying over images and priorities into leadership section

look in the canva business section for simple templates for project recommendations

marshal my strength and figure out what next steps are (I’m so bored my brain is shutting down lol I can’t figure out what else needs to happen). figure out if there’s anything more I need to do today… then tomorrow

I am going to allow myself to do no work for 20 min (until 11am) and then I will get up and try to do a burst of concentrated work from 11-12 to get through as much of that list as possible. then I will take a break and look for my preexisting letters for these students to figure out how much new drafting I need to do. hopefully not much??

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 14

Hey, guys just a couple chapters left. The story is done. I kind skip over the Mind Flayer bit and get back to the heart of the story, Eddie and Steve.

It will be some time before I start the last one. The lack of interest for this one made it hard to finish and as you're aware I don't really like having to rely on canon so much. And the last one will have to feature it in someway. But we'll see.

In this we get Eddie calling in the cavalry, Steve and Robin are captured and Steve plays hero.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

To say Eddie was worried would be an understatement. He had gone to the mall to pick Steve up from work and he wasn’t there.

But he knew about the Russian message and he knew that there was one thing Steve couldn’t stand and that’s was letting a literal child rush headlong into danger, not if he could help it.

So he started looking around. There were bound to be clues. And sure enough, the ladder had been moved and vent wasn’t properly screwed on anymore. But there was no way that any of the three Musketeers would fit through that space and he shuddered to think what or who they would have gotten to go down that tunnel.

He put his hand on his hip and scratched his chin. Then he snapped his fingers. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to call in the cavalry and by cavalry he meant Uncle Wayne.

Eddie went to a payphone and pulled out a quarter. He dialed home.

“‘Ello,” Wayne greeted gruffly. “Wayne speaking.”

“Uncle Wayne!” he cried. “I’m at the mall and I can’t find Steve. His car is still here, but I can’t find him. Which his car being here is weird as I was supposed to pick him up.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Wayne said, nice and low, “This is about those comics, ain’t it?”

Eddie straightened his spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be playing games with me, boy,” Wayne growled. “If your boy is trouble I need to know everything.”

“Meet me on the north side of the mall and I’ll tell you what I know,” Eddie whispered, looking over his shoulder. “I don’t want to say much over the phone.”

Again there was a beat then, “I’m on my way.”

~

The arguing was starting to mess with Steve’s head. In that he meant it was going to give him a migraine and then he was going to murder them. Particularly since he didn’t have his medication with him.

Because they were trapped in a fucking elevator underneath the mall and no way out or back up.

“Shut up!” he huffed. “I don’t care about Tina or Uncle Jack’s party, mmk?�� He cocked his head forward for emphasis. “Look if we don’t find a way out of here, there wouldn’t be any parties or shit, because we’d all be dead. No one is looking for us, because they don’t know where we are.”

Erica popped her hip and placed her hand on it. “Maybe no one is looking for you. But my parents are absolutely looking for me.”

Steve covered his face with his hands. “Not what I meant! I mean no one is going to look for a secret Russian base under the mall because that’s fucking insane!”

Time went on and it was looking less and less likely they’d find a way out even with Dustin constantly trying to use his little communicator to reach out to anyone who could help when Robin heard someone coming.

They all ducked behind the crates when Steve got a bright idea. Taking Erica’s vial of green glowing liquid, he leapt into action.

As the elevator door closed, he stuck the vial between the floor and the door, effectively stopping its descent. He signaled to Dustin and Erica to get out first and then Robin. He rolled under the door just the vial’s strength gave out.

It shattered, its contents spewing all over the floor. Then to their horror it began to eat away at the floor and the door.

“Shit!” Dustin swore and Steve agreed. He barely missed rolling into the stuff and really didn’t want to know what it did to flesh if it did that to fucking metal.

They looked around but the only way to go was further into the base.

“Out of the frying pan,” Robin said with her hands on her hips, “and into the fire.”

Steve sighed and walked toward the long hallway, the other three following close behind.

~

Eddie paced in front of the movie theater. He was really worried about Steve now. He had asked a couple of the other people in the food court if they had seen anything, but the only thing they mentioned was that they closed early.

He wished not for the first time that Steve had thought to call him. But he knew why he didn’t. There were several reason that came to his head. That Dustin was super pushy about it and Steve wasn’t allowed the time to call. That Steve didn’t want him involved in whatever the hell this mess was. Which fair, but a head’s up would have been nice.

A beat up pickup pulled to a stop in front of him and he nearly sagged with relief. Uncle Wayne would know what to do.

Wayne was out of his truck and gathering Eddie up in his arms before his lip could even wobble.

Eddie told him everything Steve had said about weird shit in Hawkins and how everything was tied to that lab. He had been slowly prying it out of Steve over the last month whenever they were alone.

“We’ll find him,” Wayne said fiercely. “So he’s car’s here, which means it’s probably been left here overnight. Whatever happened, didn’t happen today. Which isn’t good. Who might he have gone to?”

Eddie frowned. “I’m pretty sure Dustin is already with him, and probably his co-worker, Robin Buckley.” He thought about the comic with the dire wolves. “Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield.”

“Ed,” Wayne said slowly, “those are children you just named.”

“Uh...” Eddie said, wrinkling his brow in concentration. “I know there are a couple of actual adults involved, but I don’t know who. I mean, I’d guess Mrs. Byers because her son is in the middle of all this shit, but...” he just shrugged.

Wayne rubbed his eyebrow in frustration. These were children, Steve included. He didn’t care if the boy just turned eighteen, Steve was only sixteen when all this shit started. None of them should have been anywhere near this shit.

“Hopper!” Eddie cried, snapping his fingers. “Steve said the police chef knew about the goings on here in Hawkins.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Wayne muttered darkly.

Secretly Eddie agreed. He was usually all about down with the man and conspiracies and all that shit, but the chief of police knowing that things are fucked up and not doing more to protect this town from whatever the hell this all was? Yeah, fuck that guy in particular.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Wayne said firmly. “I’m going to go the police station and hunt Hopper down, see if he knows about anything under the mall. You are going to stay here, keep an eye out for him at the mall. Since his car is still here, he’s got to be somewhere on the property.”

Eddie nodded, pursing his lips together and rocking back on his heels.

“Good,” Wayne groused. “I’ve got a pair of walkies in the cab of my truck, we’ll keep in contact that way, okay?”

Eddie heaved a sigh of relief. That made it easy to know where each other was at all times. He took the walkie talkie from Wayne and headed back into the mall.

He knew that Steve wouldn’t be in the food court, wherever he had gone, was away from the ice cream shop.

So he setup his vigil on one of the benches half way between the food court and the theater so that he could keep an eye on the two busiest locations.

He pulled out his little notebook to make it look like he was drawing or whatever to not arouse suspicion and settled in for a long wait.

~

Steve was fucking terrified. He wanted to run back to Forest Hills and crawl into Eddie’s bed and never come out of it ever again. They were only supposed to find out what the Russians were up to so that they could report it to their ‘friends’ at the DOE and be lauded as heroes instead of heaps of NDAs and admonishments to keep their mouths shut.

But now they were walking into something they didn’t even fucking know how to get out of. No one knew where they were. Or even where to start looking. Dustin had almost used up all the battery on his little communicator trying to get into contact with their friends and no one had answered.

And then he saw it.

It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten in who knows how long because he absolutely would have lost it.

“What the hell is that?” Erica said, reeling back in disgust.

“Dustin,” Steve implored. “Please tell me that isn’t what it looks like.”

Dustin grabbed his hand. “Uh...nope. It’s exactly what it looks like.”

They had reached a room where there were a lot of scientists running around, calling out in Russian and making notes on clipboards. In the center of the room was a red pulsating mass.

They ducked behind some boxes and Steve bit back a whimper.

“Is it open?” Steve asked Dustin.

Dustin peeked over the boxes and then ducked back down. “No. Not yet. But I bet that’s what the green goo is for.”

“Shit,” Steve hissed. “Of course they’re trying to open a Gate. What else would Russians want with Hawkins?”

Dustin looked devastated, because Steve was right. There was only one thing a foreign government would want in their fucked up little town. The Upside Down.

They managed to sneak around the scientists and found themselves in a control room. A mostly empty control with a single guard.

Steve plan was stupid. But it was all they had.

And it ended better than he thought it would if he was honest with himself. Robin and he had been captured while Erica and Dustin had gotten away.

They kept asking him over and over who they were and who they worked for. Steve did everything he could to keep the attention on him. Robin didn’t know anything. She didn’t know anything about Gates and monsters, and alternative dimensions. He kept repeating the truth over and over again.

“Steve Harrington, I work at Scoops Ahoy!” he chanted, his voice slurring after the fifth strike to the side of his face.

Again and again they didn’t believe him.

Then they took him away and the beating intensified. He was crying now and he didn’t care. He just wanted to have a barbecue with his boyfriend and his uncle. His parents had called him again to say that they wouldn’t be home. He hoped and feared that Eddie and Wayne were looking for him.

Then his world went black.

~

I'm not going to show Steve being tortured. This story isn't about that. It's not even really about season 3. It's about Steve and Eddie.

Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.12

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Warnings: This chapter contains light sh if you’re not comfortable don’t interact

Part.11

•Masterlist•

It’s been a week since I was shot and things have been off with Daryl and I, I could tell he felt nervous around me and we’ve barely talked but even though it hurt when he left he came back and that counts……..right? Plus I missed how he’d cuddle me at night and call me those sweet names

I got out of bed and went out to see Daryl working on his bike, I sat down on the bike as he looked up at me from the engine

“Hey” I said nervous

“Hey”

“Can we talk?”

He put his tools and rag down and looked up at me with squinted eyes from the sun beating down on us

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distant or if I was mean, it just really hurt when you left Daryl, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you how much I love you, what you mean to me, I can’t lose you”

“Ya ain’t got nothin ta be sorry for, I shoulda never left the moment I left and it settled I knew I shoulda gone with ya, and when I got back seein ya shot again I couldn’t stop blaming myself, I’ll never leave again i mean it” he said running his hands up and down my thighs

“I love you Daryl but……Don’t blame yourself for me getting hurt, you know I hate it when you put those burdens on yourself”

“Maybe not the gunshot but……..ya hurt herself cause of me, that’s my fault” my heart sank at that

“You……..you saw”

“Course, me and Hershel cleaned em”

“Sorry” I said looking down ashamed

“Ya gotta swear ya ain’t gonna do that again”

I nodded as he stood pulling me into his chest holding me tight, it felt so good to be in his arms again, I wrapped my arms around his waist breathing in the smoky smell that comforted me

Daryl helped me get over my depression as best he could, showing me that I could trust him and he wouldn’t leave again over the next few days

But now Merle was back with us and it made things tense with the group but I always made sure Daryl didn’t get caught in the middle knowing how hard that was on him

Things escalated over the week they’ve been back Merle told us we should leave and then him and Michonne go missing

“Where the hell are they?” Daryl groaned as we looked all over the prison for them

“Why would they be together?” I asked confused

“He’s gonna take her back to the governor, as a peace offerin……damn it” he started running out to his bike and I was quick to follow

“Where are you going?” I asked as he started up the bike

“I gotta get to em before they get there”

“I’ll come with you”

“I can’t risk ya out there”

“You promised Daryl, I’m coming with you”

“Fine then we’re goin on foot to not attract anythin” he said grabbing my hand and we were off

Running through neighbourhood sand forests we found Michonne alone telling us Merle let her go, we got to an industrial area filled with cyloes and rusty old machinery

“Do you think he might be here?” I asked looking around but only seeing walkers

He shrugged his shoulders continuing to lead me through the abandoned equipment until we came across a walker feasting on a clearly freshly killed person but that’s when we noticed

It’s Merle……..he’s dead, I heard the whimpers from Daryl as he swayed back and worth dropping his bow

Merle noticed us coming over to try and finish us off too until Daryl shoved him back, crying realizing his brother was dead when he just got him back, I placed my hand on Daryl’s shoulder pulling him back

“I’ve got it D” I said taking out my knife not wanting Daryl to have to kill his brother, I pushed Merle down to the ground, pushing my knife into the back of his head ceasing his movement, he was gone now fully gone

I ran over to Daryl where he was curled up on the ground crying, it hurt me to see him cry especially since he never does, I pulled him against me so he could let it all out

“I’m so sorry baby” I said feeling the tears well up in my own eyes

He didn’t say anything but continued to cry for an hour until he settled still gripping my shirt

“What do you want me to do for you D?” I asked as he looked up at me from my lap

“Wanna go home” that was enough for me to find a car, got wire it and drive us back home

The drive back was silent, I didn’t expect him to talk, I know he needs his time and being silent is his way of coping, when we got back he went up to a watch tower and the others gave me a look

“Just……..leave him alone for today” and they all let him be, going back to working around the courtyard

I went inside our block to get some water and a snack for him knowing he neglects necessities when he’s going through something, I went up in the watch tower sitting next to him leaning on the railing so our legs dangled over the edge

“Here i brought you something” I said placing the food and water down next to him

He looked at it and looked back out over the courtyard “thanks”

I sat there all night long with him until he moved so his head was resting in my lap so I could play with his hair hoping it was helping

“Peach?” He finally spoke

“Yeah D?”

“I wanna have that baby” my heart stopped

“Are you sure? I thought…..you said it was too risky”

“Life’s too short, I wanna experience what I can with ya, I want that family we’ve dreamed ‘bout”

“I’m ready whenever you’re ready Daryl but I want you to just relax for now, get some sleep my love”

It’s been a few months and lots have changed, the governor abandoned his people at Woodbury and we took the rest in creating space for them, I was wary of them since they weren’t my family and I didn’t know if I could trust them so I kept my distance, Daryl did too for the most part

“Hey, wanna get some food?” Daryl asked as I was tending to our garden

“Sure!” I said as he took my hand helping me up

“How lil asskicker doin?” He asked as he placed a protective hand over my belly

“They’re doing fine, I can’t wait to meet them” we didn’t know if it was a boy or girl but I knew Daryl was secretly hoping for a little girl

“Me too sunshine”

Everything felt like it was falling into place, I just hope nothing ruins this

Part.13

How is everyone liking the story??

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313 @thestonedwriter

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 11: Conversation stopper

Day seven, and another serenade from the roof of my building, once again led by me, self proclaimed queen of the local dragons. My challenge cry is the best, after all.

I end up watching the construction workers setting up their scaffolding, while I’m perched on the edge of the roof, head hanging over and looking down at them. Claws gripping molding on either side of my neck. I’ve got my wings spread out to help soak up as much sun as possible, to assist in digestion.

Fridge food was easier to digest, apparently. Already mostly processed, or so fibrous, in the case of the vegetables, that it went right through. But I didn’t tear the seagulls up much in order to murder them, and they went down with a lot of structural integrity still intact.

It feels like the rocks are helping. My body, at least, has calmed down a lot since I’ve swallowed them.

Still, I’m starting to seriously consider Nathan’s ground chuck suggestion.

I’m not going to be spending all of my monthly money on meat. I still have a few other things I need to pay for, such as my phone bill. Or a data plan that’s compatible with this new tablet. I’ll have to work that out.

But basing my diet on ground chuck sounds like a good plan right now.

Some of the construction workers look up and wave at me. And I stick a claw out and wave back, awkwardly.

Maybe us dragons were just imagined up by humanity, to be something they feel the world needed. A timely disruption. That finally manifested now, on the precipice of a critical moment in history.

It sure does seem like the people who are objecting the loudest to us are those with some kind of power to lose, and their followers. And everyone else just kind of seems to love us.

I don’t know.

I just know what I’ve always been, and I like it.

And I like it better, especially, on mornings like this, when union workers smile up at me while they go about their jobs.

I do hope they do a good job to help keep my building from falling apart. As nice as it felt to have my own cave in the side of it, it was still a violation of my own home. 

If I had my way, I’d build this thing a big differently. Keep my apartment in the same place, but with a big, supported doorway in the wall leading to a balcony big enough for me. A landing pad. With no railing. And the rest of the building would be reinforced concrete. With iron spikes. And it might be really cool to have a PA on the roof with stacks of speakers to make any stadium jealous.

I huff.

What if I’d been someone who had a job? What would this be like?

I see Cerce walking up my favorite runway, and she’s already looking up at me and waving.

I lift and wave my tail back and forth in return. It’s a bit more like lashing, the way it moves, thumping the roof on either side of me. But, oh, that feels good, and I wonder why I haven’t tried it sooner.

It keeps going, but at a lower and more comfortable angle.

I’m sure my downstairs neighbors don’t care for it, but they’re about to experience a whole day of construction noises. And also, maybe they can be reassured that there’s a dragon on their roof that won’t put up with the kind of shit Loreena and Poink got into last night.

I have to admit, I’m not really sure I’m thinking like humans anymore. Part of me does still recognize that this line of reasoning isn’t, well, reasonable. At least not to a lot of the local humanity.

But everyone does have to adapt now. There’s just no other way about it.

I raise my head with a thought.

What is considered politeness by dragons? What are our cultural norms? Are they what we inherited from our local humans? Or do we get to have our own ways?

I remember reading something from an Autistic blogger about how what’s considered polite by most of society isn’t necessarily what’s good or even friendly for everyone. That new mores and norms should be constructed about meeting individual sensory and social needs, that accommodations for Autistic people could lead to a more considerate society all around.

But I wonder how that can be applied to a sudden population of unique and bizarre monsters that have the instinctual need to scream at each other every morning or get into bloody fights about it later.

“Meg!” Cerce calls from the street corner closest to where I’m lying.

There’s a T-intersection below and to the right of me, and that’s the street I like to fly down or take off from when there’s no traffic. That puts her just over the heads of the construction workers below me, from my line of sight.

Sure.

I get up and push myself off the lip of the roof, angling to the left so that I can spiral, flapping repeated, over the parking lot.

My controlled descent brings me to a gentle landing behind her from where I started, but she’s turned to watch me the whole time.

I do something that I think of as a dragon courtsey, and then puff out my chest and hold my head up as high as I can on all fours, which puts my nose at about her collarbone level. Leaning back onto my haunches is what gets my head above six feet, and I don’t do that to her.

“Want to have coffee with me?” she asks.

Heck, yes! I look in the direction of the front outside table and bob my head.

“OK, I’ll meet you right there,” she says. “Do you want your usual, or something different?”

I don’t really know how to answer that without pulling out my tablet, so I bow my head and then bob it again.

“I’ll get your usual.”

I give her a quick cat smile, then bound over to the crosswalk to wait there for her, and for the light to turn green. I think it’d probably help people to see a dragon following the laws when it’s not strictly necessary. And, besides, it’d be what I would do if I wasn’t a dragon. I’ve just always been that way, kind of like Chapman.

Oh, I do hope things aren’t super weird between me and Chapman now. I’m worried about what they’ll have to say to me.

On the other hand, I’m worried about what I might say to hir if I give myself the chance. What happened last night was weird. Maybe there’d been a time where sie learned the names of my dragon neighbors, but that moment just before sie’d said their names something happened. I felt it with a part of my body, like a string from my stomach to the center of my head was plucked.

I try to think about whether I’ve ever had moments like that before, especially before metamorphosis. 

But soon Cerce and I are crossing the street like a couple of weird school girls heading to class together, and I’m distracted by that moment. Not making anything of it, just feeling something I wish I could have had when I was younger, even if the actual visual of the two of us belongs more in some anime I would never have watched. Casual female companionship.

As we’re crossing the street, even though we’re not saying anything to each other, I really feel Cerce’s presence and mood, and I get the impression that she has something she wants to share with me.

On the other side, I break off with an easy head jerk, and head to my table, wondering if Cerce had been updated by the others about my decision to stay outside. I wouldn’t be surprised if the shop staff had their own chat channel somewhere, or a group SMS text session. It’d be smart, and there’ve been times when I’ve had that thought before.

Maybe, I should have my own, and I should invite all of my humans to it.

Oh, yes, definitely.

By the time Cerce comes back out, I’m already setting it up on my tablet, and considering just who to invite. I’m stuck on Chapman.

I’ll figure that out later, after we’ve talked again.

Actually, it turns out she doesn’t have anything for me and that she’s got her day off from both school and work and just wants to talk to her favorite local dragon.

Sitting down, she says, “I really want to ask you a bunch of stuff. My degree is in communication, and getting to talk to a living being that is not human is just way too cool to me. Is that OK?”

I give her my gesture of affirmative, and then make a show of pulling out my tablet and relaxing.

“I’ll try to keep it to yes or no questions, if you want, so you don’t have to use your tablet if you don’t want to?”

I don’t really care, but I hit, “Yes.” It seems like the best way to keep the conversation flowing.

But the word echos in my head when I hear it, and I feel an urge.

I look at the tablet sideways, and then hit, “Yes,” again.

Cerce smirks and watches me.

It’s such a simple sound.

“Yes,” I make the tablet say yet again. And then I hit it several times in succession, not really counting.

Then I look up at Cerce and open my mouth and my chest says, “Yes,” in a near perfect imitation of the tablet’s voice.

“Ha! Oh, that’s delightful,” Cerce exclaims.

Experimentally, I hit, “No.”

I’m pretty sure I can get that one, too. So I do a repeat of my performance for, “Yes.”

“NoNoNoNoNoNoNo,” says the tablet.

I open my mouth and say, “No.”

Then I give the biggest, longest cat smile I’ve ever given and huff. Then I tell Cerce, “Yes.”

She claps.

And then she asks, “So what’s that like?” And then, after a second, she slaps her forehead with both hands and nearly shouts, “No! I’m sorry! Did that feel cool?”

“Yes,” I say. And then I hold up a claw and look at my tablet for a moment, then type out, “It came to me. Urge. Like breathing fire. Body knew what do.”

“That’s so fascinating,” she says. “I think I know what that might feel like. Like, sometimes I just get the urge to blurt out a word, and sometimes I can’t stop myself. Usually a word I’ve just heard. It’s called echolalia. Did you ever experience that before?”

I’m finding that it’s getting harder for me to remember my life before my metamorphosis. I still have all the knowledge I had, but I never related to my body or outward identity back than, so the memories are hard to trigger.

But, I think I remember experiencing echolalia once or twice, it’s familiar. And what I just experienced felt familiar. So I say, “Yes.”

“Is it like that? LIke echolalia?”

“Yes,” I say. Then I do my typing routine, “All instinct same for me.”

“I wonder how long your subconscious has been working on the word, ‘yes’,” she muses.

“Saturday,” I say with the tablet. Until I learn more words, I’m going to keep saying “yes” and “no” with my syrinx and everything else with the tablet. It’s the same voice either way, hilariously enough.

“I think it’s kind of funny that you’ve chosen to sound like Angelina Joli when she’s playing a posh roll,” Cerce says.

I think about that for a moment, then say, “Tablet misogyny. My euphoria.”

“You know, that makes a lot of sense to me,” she replies. “Different question. Are you endothermic? Like a lizard? Or more like a bird?”

“Yes,” I say, and then duck my head and look at her with just my right eye. I really don’t know the full answer to that. I know I feel sluggish when it gets cold enough, and my stomach is happier digesting things in the heat. And that I don’t sweat, at all. But I don’t know what my limits and needs are, nor what they would mean. But now I want to tell her something unprompted. The longer sentence takes a moment. “Want know what seagull taste like?” I ask.

She grimaces, shakes her head, and then looks around before saying tentatively, “Yes?”

“Ocean. Oil. Shit. Blood,” I say. “The worst sushi.”

She closes her eyes, makes a sick expression, and laughs silently, her shoulders going up and down. “I don’t why I agreed to that,” she exclaims.

Then conversation pauses for a while as we both enjoy the moment and gather our thoughts.

Then she asks, “Do you ever miss being human?”

That’s easy, “No.”

“Why not?”

“Never human,” I reply. “Not know what like.”

“Huh.”

“Yes.”

“I remember what you were like before,” she says. “You were always so quiet and kept to your favorite corner of the shop, and just stayed there all day with your refills. And I gotta admit, it did seem like you were watching over your domain, content. But, still, also unsettled.”

“Yes.”

“How do you feel about the other dragons in town?”

Oh, that’s a doozy.

We all keep coming back to this in some way, because it’s the Situation.

“Too many emotions,” I admit. “Need more space.” And then, after a couple beats I add, “Not mating season yet.”

Her eyes go wide, and I feel like I’m seeing that expression on the faces of my friends too much.

I want to do something to bring more stability to my city, but I’m at a complete loss as to how, other than to stick to my guns, be as loud as possible, and keep winning fights.

But the thing is, I’ve only fought Whitman.

And my fifty years of learning things from humans make me feel like there should be a better solution than that. I wish I could talk to and reason with the other dragons, and negotiate a peace. And convince more of the others that some of us need to move out up into the mountains and other wilderness. Spread out.

From what I figure, we all manifested from human bodies, and that means there’s more of us where there are more humans. And that’s not a natural distribution for dragons. However, those of us who’ve been around for a while have also gotten attached to our familiar haunts. Our instincts are kicking in full swing, telling us these places are our territories.

And, maybe I should be the big girl and leave and provide an example by doing so. But I know that all that would do is create a vacuum that the others would fight viciously over.

I know I’ve thought this a few different ways over the past few days. It feels like it’s long past time to act.

But it’s also only been six and a quarter days.

As we’re thinking about things again, Rhoda approaches from down the block and stands next to me to report, “They’re boxing up your stuff and piling it in the hallway now, Meg. I stood there for a while to let them know they’re being judged. I think they’re being good about it.”

Cerce looks up at her and points at me and says, “That’s a dragon!”

“She certainly is,” Rhoda says.

“Yes,” I say.

Rhoda turns and assesses me for a moment, eyes going up and down, then says, “Stop.”

I tilt my head, then turn to my tablet and program it to repeat that word several times, like I did before.

I have to make it do that two more times before the words starts to take hold of me and bubble up.

I turn back to Rhoda and say, “Stop.”

“Perfect,” she says.

The thing is, the way I’m learning to talk, to imitate my tablet, there’s no emotional inflection. I say these words the exact same way every time. No sense of urgency, if I say, “Stop.” Just a statement.

I say it again, “Stop.”

“You’re gonna need that,” Rhoda says.

“Yes,” I reply. But I’m worried it won’t be taken seriously in an actual crisis.

She studies me for a while longer and then says, “You know what to do if you want to learn how to say that forcefully, right?”

Oh, of course. I just need to find a clip of Angelina Joli shouting, “Stop!” And then play it over and over again until I can do it.

Or I could do Chris Hemsworth. Or David Tennant. Or Sigourney Weaver. Or someone with a super deep and loud voice.

I wonder if I could somehow improvise and mix my rumble in with it.

Cerce is smiling and glancing back and forth between the two of us. And then she says, “I really want you to talk to my prof, Meg!”

I decide to say, “Maybe,” using my tablet, of course.

Cerce looks confused at the tablet like she wasn’t expecting me to say that, but then she starts squinting at it harder and leans forward. “I’ve got another question for you, Meg.”

“Yes.”

“How are you keeping that thing charged?”

I look closely at it myself, because I’ve totally forgotten about doing that somehow.

The battery is at 100%.

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

It Started With a Kiss (8/?)

Thanks so much, everyone for your reviews on the last chapter! I’m so glad you all enjoyed my take on the Alex Conrad situation. And now for one of my favorite episodes of the show, To Love and Die in LA. Seriously, this episode is in my top 5…maybe even top 3 depending on my mood that day.

Date wise, the last chapter took place around April 11, and this one takes place around May 2. So that’s a 3 week time gap. Wonder what our favorite couple got up to after the way Kate kissed him in the last chapter, hmm?

Again, I want to remind you that this will be the last update on this story until after I return from vacation on June 15…and Hell Hath No Fury will be due for an update first. So enjoy this one, because it will most likely be several weeks before I get around to writing the next chapter. I promise I’ll get it up as soon as I can though!

Also…there is a section rated M in this chapter. It is clearly marked where you will want to stop reading, and then when it ends. It’s sex heavy, but not smut heavy. Still, read at your own peril, lol!

I still don’t own Castle…

xxxxx

Castle had barely seen Beckett since that night 3 weeks ago when she’d kissed him. The first week she’d been tied up prepping with an ADA for a trial, which worked out with him needing to finish a couple of chapters for the next Heat book, as well as some edits. And then Gina and Paula had worked together to ambush him with some promotional book signings and appearances in an effort to drum up more presales for his newest novel, not to mention the graphic novel for Storm that was being put together.

He’d seen her exactly twice…both times at the precinct when he’d brought her coffee. Neither time for very long, so they hadn’t been able to discuss their relationship or if the kiss she’d given him was a sign she was ready to move forward, but she had made time to spend several minutes with him in the break room since he had come all the way to the precinct just to bring her coffee. They would spend those ten minutes or so in the break room together, innocently flirting and occasionally standing just close enough to brush up against each other. And it always ended with the most brilliant smile from her, thanking him for the coffee. Castle knew he would go out of his way to bring her coffee every day for the rest of his life if she continued to smile at him the way she had those two days.

They had, of course, chatted via text and twice over the phone, but neither of them seemed to want to discuss the kiss or their relationship over the phone or text messages, and rightfully so. It was a big step for them; when it happened, it needed to be in person. She had known he was returning to the city that afternoon, so when his phone rang, he didn’t bother to look at the caller

ID, simply assuming it was her. No one else usually called him after 9 anymore.

“Did a body drop, or did you just miss me so much you couldn’t wait another day to see me?” he asked with a grin.

“Castle, I’m going to send you an address, and you need to get down here,” Lanie said simply.

“Lanie? What’s wrong?” he asked, the smile falling from his lips. Lanie never called him. Kate was the one who called him about a body drop.

“A body was found…”

He swallowed hard. “Kate? Did something happen to her?” he had to ask, interrupting before Lanie could finish her sentence. He felt his heart sink. Was Lanie calling to tell him something had happened to Kate?

Hearing the worry in his tone, Lanie realized what he must have thought. “The body we found is Mike Royce. Espo is just now calling her, so she’s not here yet, but you need to hurry. I doubt she’ll admit it, but she’s going to need you on this one.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, already out the door. He’d watched her go through hell several months ago when she’d realized Royce was part of their investigation and she’d had to arrest her former training officer. He could only imagine how his murder was going to hit her.

xxxxx

Castle’s eyes were on her the moment she got out of her unit. He could tell, just in the way she carried herself…the tension in her shoulders, the firm set of her jaw...she was torn up and doing everything she could to not appear that way.

“Where is he?” Beckett asked as she approached.

Montgomery stood beside Castle, shaking his head. “Turn around, go back home, and let me handle this.”

“Sir, I’ve seen dead bodies before,” she insisted.

The captain studied her for a moment but knew it was better for everyone if he just let her through. He nodded toward the back of the alley where Lanie was standing.

Castle was immediately at her side as she headed in that direction. “Come on, Kate…you don’t want to remember him like this,” he tried to get through to her.

“Castle, if it were me lying there, would you just walk away?” she turned to look at him.

Just the thought of that possibility sent a chill through his body and made him nauseous. He didn’t have to answer her question; the look he was giving her was answer enough–hell no, he wouldn’t just walk away. He would find whoever had hurt her, and then no one would ever find the body.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Lanie offered her condolences.

Beckett clenched her jaw and blinked, but Castle could tell she was struggling to hold onto her composure. “Tell me what happened.”

“He was shot in the leg. Judging from the blood trail, I’d say the bullet broke the bone. He tried to hide, but…” she trailed off with a shake of her head. “I found this in his pocket,” she handed Beckett an airplane ticket stub. “He flew in from LA this afternoon.”

Castle took a step closer to Beckett then. “What was he doing in LA?” he asked curiously.

“I heard he moved there after he lost his bounty hunter’s license. I guess he was trying to make a fresh start,” Beckett answered, looking over the ticket stub.

“When was the last time you spoke with him?” he asked her softly.

She swallowed hard, staring at the ticket stub before folding it back. “When I arrested him.” She took a deep breath. “Lanie, could I?”

“Sure,” Lanie answered, stepping out of the way and exchanging a look with Castle as Beckett approached Royce’s body.

Castle watched intently as she crouched down near the body and took a few minutes. He watched as her shoulders tensed a little more. He watched as she touched Royce’s hair and either sniffled or inhaled deeply…he couldn’t tell. He was ready to move to her side the minute she stood and headed back in his direction.

“Royce had something else in his pocket. It’s addressed to you,” Lanie handed her a note.

“Is it about the case?” Castle asked her as she opened it.

After reading for a few moments, Beckett folded the note and put it in her pocket. “No.”

Esposito approached them, carrying a gun. “I think we got the murder weapon. Found it in the garbage around the corner.”

“Gun was definitely fired recently,” Ryan added as he joined them. “Shooter took the time to empty the ammo before he dumped it.”

“Worried we’d find fingerprints on the bullets?” Castle raised the question.

Beckett took the gun and examined it. “This is a cheap street gun. It’s a throw away.” She studied the gun a little more. “There’s threading on the barrel.”

“Silencer?” Castle suggested.

Esposito nodded. “Yeah.”

“Allowing our killer to shoot Royce in broad daylight,” Beckett stated, handing the gun back to Esposito to bag as evidence.

“Listen, Beckett…we’re gonna get this guy,” Ryan assured her. “We got uniforms heading to every store and apartment within a 5-block radius.”

“This is New York. Somebody had to have seen something,” Esposito added.

Castle turned to her, placing his hand on her shoulder lightly after the boys walked away. “Kate…”

“Castle, I’m fine,” she insisted.

“You’re not fine,” he said softly. “Royce was your friend. It’s okay to take a few minutes to grieve,” he added. After a minute, he let his hand fall from her shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take you home? There’s nothing else you can do tonight. You can get some sleep and start fresh on the case in the morning,” he suggested.

Beckett was about to protest when Montgomery walked over to join them. “Alright, you’ve seen him. You paid your respects. Now go home, Beckett.”

“Sir,” she started to protest.

“There’s nothing else you can do here tonight. Dr. Parish won’t have anything for you until she does an exam. Uniforms are canvassing everywhere. Ryan and Esposito will handle anything else. They’ll call you if anything pops. Go home, Beckett. That’s an order.”

She looked between her captain and her partner and finally relented, wordlessly stepping away from them to go back to her unit. Castle was quick to follow her.

“Castle, you go home too,” she told him, stopping him as he went to get into her car. “You just got back from a book tour. I know you’re tired.”

“I’m okay. I can just sit with you. You shouldn’t be alone…you don’t have to be alone,” he offered.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“Kate…”

“Rick, please,” she said. She needed to be alone. She was going to fall apart when she got home, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her break like that.

The way she said his name, coupled with the look in her eyes had him nodding. “Okay. I’ll go home. But if you need anything…you call me. Even if all you need is me to sit on the phone with you in silence, ok?”

“Do you even know how to be silent?” she teased lightly, trying to show him that she was okay.

“I do, actually, when it matters. And I’m serious. Call me,” he insisted.

She nodded. “Okay.”

xxxxx

“Beckett, I’m not sending you to LA. You have no solid evidence linking Neal McCauley to this murder,” Montgomery insisted.

“He came to New York for 6 hours. Who flies in for that short a stay?” Castle pointed out.

“Businessmen do it all the time,” Montgomery countered.

“Businessmen don’t use fake IDs,” Castle countered back.

“Or pack silencers,” Beckett added.

Montgomery shook his head. “That’s supposition. I need a lot more than that to justify flying a detective across the country.”

Beckett shook her head as well. “You and I both know the longer I wait to go out there, the colder this trail gets.”

“Take a day to shore this up. And then if there’s sufficient evidence, I’ll contact the LAPD.”

“You’ll contact the LAPD?” Beckett asked incredulously. “This is my case! This happened in our jurisdiction. You think the LAPD is gonna lift a finger?”

“Kate, you’re too close to this!” Montgomery insisted.

“No, Sir, I am committed. I am not compromised.”

“You’re torn up,” he interrupted her. “Kate, things between you and Royce ended badly. I get it. But that emotion is exactly why I need to assign this to someone else.”

Beckett paused then, taking a step back. “You know what? You’re right. I am too close to this. I have some vacation days coming up. I think now would be a good time,” she stated, turning to head out of the office.

“Kate,” he called, stopping her. “I hope you’re not thinking about doing something reckless.”

She turned to face him, meeting his eyes for a long moment. “No, Sir,” she stated, leaving the office.

Castle’s eyes met Montgomery’s and both men seemed to understand each other. Montgomery’s look told Castle to follow her…something he would have done anyway…because neither man believed she was stepping back and doing nothing.

“Where are you going?” Castle called after her.

“Home,” she insisted.

“The hell you are. I know you better than that,” he tried to stop her with a hand on her arm.

“Castle, please,” she pulled it away. “He was my training officer…my friend. I just…I really need to be alone right now,” she told him, making her way to the elevator.

Castle watched helplessly as the doors closed. Why did it always feel like they’d take one step forward and then something happened to make them take two steps back? He was really beginning to hate that dance.

“You know she’s going to LA,” Espo said, coming up behind him.

“I know,” Castle sighed.

“You really think she’s going to just willingly let you go with her?” Ryan asked as he joined them.

“She won’t have much of a choice if she doesn’t find out until the plane is already in the air,” Castle stated simply, already pulling out his phone to check for the next flight to LA, knowing she’d be on it. “Whether she likes it or not, someone’s got to have her back…and I’m her partner.” He headed for the elevator himself; he had a couple of hours to pack a bag and get to the airport, already calling to arrange a hotel suite for them.

xxxxx

Kate Beckett hated the middle seats in airplanes. Unfortunately, that was all that was available to her last minute. She knew she was lucky to have gotten on the flight at all considering she’d been on standby status. Still, being squished between two larger men was going to make for a very uncomfortable flight across the country…especially if the baby screaming in the cabin didn’t eventually tire itself out and fall asleep.

“Excuse me, Detective Beckett?” one of the flight attendants approached her.

“Yes?” she answered.

“You’ve been upgraded to first class.”

Beckett didn’t even question the reason. “Thank you,” she smiled, standing quickly. “I’m sorry…excuse me,” she said to the man, climbing over him to get out of the cramped row. She followed the flight attendant to the first-class cabin.

“Seat 3C,” the attendant told her.

“Thank you,” she smiled her relief. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the man she’d be sitting next to.

“Champagne?” he asked innocently with a smile.

She took the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. “Castle, what are you doing?”

He shrugged with a grin. “The studio’s been after me for weeks to fly down and do a set visit for the Heat Wave movie. Imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the standby list,” he took a sip of the champagne.

“You cannot be a part of what I’m gonna do out there,” she told him simply.

“I thought you were on vacation,” he pointed out.

“Castle,” she shook her head. “Look, it’s one thing for you to follow me when we’re in New York, but I’m not a cop in LA. I don’t have any authority or backup,” she told him.

“I’ll be your backup,” he insisted. Seeing her roll her eyes, he continued. “I’m your partner. Besides, going rogue is kind of my specialty.”

“Yeah, but subtlety isn’t,” she countered with a small smile. “I’m not going to get rid of you am I?” she asked him. Seeing him shake his head, she sighed. “Okay, if we do this together you have to promise me that we’re gonna fly under the radar.”

“Of course,” he smiled, offering her the extra glass of champagne.

She studied him for a moment before taking it with another roll of her eyes. She took a sip, offering him a small smile. “Thank you for upgrading me. I was kind of miserable back there.”

“You mean, you didn’t enjoy your seat sandwiched between two of the linemen for the Giants?” he asked with a chuckle.

“No,” she smirked. “The screaming baby didn’t help either.”

He laughed softly. “You’re welcome. Besides, how are we supposed to talk strategy with you in the back of the plane and me in the front?”

“We weren’t supposed to talk strategy at all,” she laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“We have a 6-hour flight, Beckett. It’s going to be a long 6 hours if we don’t talk.”

She smiled and took another sip of her champagne. “Some people sleep on a flight.”

“Are you one of those people?” he asked with a smile.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. Probably not this flight. I’ve got too much on my mind.”

He nodded, placing a hand over hers. “I’m here for whatever you want to talk about,” he offered her a smile. “Or we could just drink,” he joked.

“I think one glass will suffice,” she chuckled, stretching her legs out.

He smiled and squeezed her hand before releasing it. The surprise was evident on his face when she took his hand back in hers a moment later.

“Thanks for coming with me, Castle,” she said softly, offering him a smile and pulling their joined

hands back into her lap.

“Always,” he smiled, stretching his legs out to get comfortable as well.

xxxxx

“Is this what you call under the radar?” Beckett asked, gesturing to the red Ferrari they were currently in.

“In LA, this baby fits right in,” Castle insisted. “So what’s our first stop?”

“My hotel. It’s on Ventura Blvd.”

Castle shot her a look. “That’s all the way in the Valley. How are we supposed to work together if you’re an hour away?”

“Castle, we weren’t supposed to work together at all,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “Okay, well the studio comped me a two-bedroom suite at a 4-star hotel. You just stay with me,” he stated as though it were a no-brainer.

She snorted a laugh. “Yeah right!”

“What?” he asked, turning to look at her. “You’ll have your own room.”

“No! I am not staying with you!” she insisted, biting back another laugh.

He raised an eyebrow, almost in a challenge. “Worried you can’t control yourself when we’re alone together?”

Her smile faltered only slightly. It was a legitimate concern of hers, yes, considering the current state of their relationship and how close they currently were to crossing the line between friends and lovers…but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. “Actually, it’s not me that I’m worried about,” she replied.

“I assure you, Detective, my intentions are pure,” he insisted as the light they were stopped at turned green. He paused a moment before continuing. “Need I remind you that the last two times we were alone together, you were the one who kissed me,” he commented nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road.

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. She couldn’t even deny that. Even though it had been months ago and she hadn’t ended her relationship with Josh at the time, she’d still been the one to kiss him on Valentine’s Day over wine in his loft. And now that they were both single,

she hadn’t been able to resist kissing him when they’d gone out 3 weeks ago after he’d been so jealous of Alex Conrad.

Yes, they were here to work…at least she was…but she also couldn’t deny the attraction and connection that pulled them together, couldn’t deny that they were one “Yes” from her away from becoming romantic partners in addition to professional ones. Here to work or not, she knew it was a very real possibility that when they were alone together she would give into the temptation that was her desire to be with him. Simply having her own bedroom didn’t guarantee she wouldn’t seek him out in the middle of the night without anything holding her back anymore.

“Fine, I’ll stay with you,” she finally agreed. She knew herself well enough to know there was a very real possibility she would find herself in his bed…or invite him into hers…before they left LA. She only hoped she was ready for everything that entailed. Because once they crossed that last line between them, she knew there would be no going back. If she messed it all up, if they crashed and burned, she would lose him forever…and she wasn’t sure that was a loss from which she’d recover.

xxxxx

“We’re so happy to have you back, Mr. Castle,” Maurice the concierge smiled. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting up the suite just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” Castle returned the man’s smile.

“And I’ve scheduled a couple’s massage at 7,” Maurice added.

Beckett paused looking around the suite for a moment to cut Castle a look. “Pure, huh?”

Castle’s eyes widened slightly. “Uh, Maurice, you can cancel the couple’s massage. We’re actually here to work, so we won’t be needing that tonight.” He didn’t ask for the champagne or flowers to be removed, however.

Maurice nodded. “Very good, Sir.”

Castle handed the bellhop who handled their luggage a tip and offered Maurice one as well. “Thank you, Maurice.” He followed the men out and closed the double doors behind them. “The last time I was here, I brought this Parisian supermodel, so he…” he trailed off when he caught the look Beckett shot him and he realized bringing up the fact that he’d been with other women here was probably not the best idea considering they were working toward a relationship with each other. “You know, that is not important. Would you like to choose your bedroom?”

She rolled her eyes and went to her carry-on to get her jacket. “No, I would like to start the investigation.”

“But we haven’t even ordered room service yet,” Castle pointed out.

“Castle, I’m not here for room service, I’m here for justice,” she stated, heading for the doors.

“Can’t we have both?” Castle called as he followed her. “Wow. In LA for all of a minute and already she’s spouting cheesy movie dialogue. Must be something in the air.”

xxxxx

“Picture this: a gullible young actress, desperate to make a name for herself. She meets our mastermind at a club. He needs a pretty girl to help him get the voice code. He tells Violet he’s a producer, promises to make her famous if she helps him play a practical joke on a friend,” Castle theorizes. He turns to face Beckett on the couch in the living room area of their suite.

Beckett turns a little more facing him, her elbow resting on the back of the couch with her head resting on her hand. The bottle of champagne from earlier is opened and mostly empty on the coffee table in front of them. “She doesn’t even realize that she’s participating in a crime until afterwards. She can’t call the cops, so she contacts Royce.”

“But then, our Mr. McCauley finds out,” Castle continues to build theory with her.

“And Royce tries to change the game. He goes to New York; home-field advantage. Classic. Classic Royce,” Beckett smiled slightly. “I was so in awe of him, Castle when I first met him. I just hung on his every word. And then later, I realized he was just making up stories to mess with me,” she gave a soft laugh, but her smile faded. “I can’t believe that I’m never gonna see him again.”

He studied her for a moment, shifting just a little closer. “You know what I first thought when I met you?” he asked her.

She turned her attention back to him. “Mm?” she hummed the question.

“That you were a mystery I was never gonna solve. Even now, after spending all this time with you, I’m still amazed at the depths of your strength…your heart…” he trailed off as the faintest smile teased his lips, “and your hotness.”

She looked down for a moment and then met his smile with one of her own. “You’re not so bad yourself, Castle.”

Their eyes locked and they held each other’s gaze. He wanted to kiss her…so badly. Under any other circumstance, he would have. But she was vulnerable now. She was dealing with her grief over the loss of her friend whom he knew she cared for deeply. He wouldn’t be the guy who took

advantage of that. He cared too much about her to be the guy who did that to her. If there was a move to be made, she was going to have to be the one to initiate it.

“I should go. It’s late,” Beckett stood, finally breaking the moment between them as she headed for her bedroom door.

“Kate…”

“Goodnight, Castle,” she stated, stepping inside and closing the door. She leaned against it, running her hands over her face and through her hair. A hundred thoughts were running through her mind: She should have kissed him. Why was she running? How badly she wanted to kiss him. How badly she wanted to lose herself in his arms tonight, let him make her forget everything else but him and the way she knew he would make her feel. But was that fair to him to do it this way? Was it fair to either of them to spend their first night together under these circumstances? Was she ready to fully embrace the depth of her feelings for him? Was she ready to embrace the depth of his feelings for her?

Her hand lingered over the door handle for another moment as she hesitated. The words from Royce’s letter echoed in her mind: And now for the hard part, kid. It’s clear that you and Castle have something real. And you’re fighting it. But trust me, putting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we’re alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder, if only. A moment later, she’d made her decision. She wanted the comfort he would provide. She wanted to touch him, to taste him, to feel him. She just wanted him. She opened the door and met his eyes as he stood from the couch. “Castle…” she breathed from her doorway.

He wordlessly approached her, coming to stand in front of her in her doorway. In her bare feet, she was a good 5 or 6 inches shorter than him, and his eyes were soft as he looked at her. “Kate…” he murmured, unable to resist reaching out to run his fingers gently across her cheek.

Her hands moved to his chest and her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch. Her fingers tightened in his shirt and she pulled him closer against her, opening her eyes to look at his lips.

He leaned down, his lips stopping just before they touched hers. Swallowing hard, he had to make sure. “Kate, I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he murmured in a whisper.

Her nose nuzzled his, her lips moving the tiniest bit closer until they were only a hair’s width apart and she could feel his breath tickling her lips. “You’re not…” she breathed, her lips barely brushing his as she spoke. “If we hadn’t been so busy the past few weeks, this would have already happened…”

He swallowed hard again. She was making it so damn hard to think straight, to try to be the

gentleman. “I thought you wanted to wait…”

The last words from Royce played over again in her head. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder, if only. “I’m done waiting,” she told him.

“You won’t regret this in the morning?” he had to ask her. Because he wouldn’t be able to handle it if she did.

“No regrets,” she promised, unable to take it anymore and closing the almost invisible distance between their lips with a slow kiss. She stepped back from him into her room a few moments later, her lower lip tugged between her teeth and the look in her eyes inviting, imploring him to follow her.

He was powerless to resist her now, and he knew it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them a second later, he followed her into her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

xxxxx

IT’S ABOUT TO GET STEAMY

SKIP THIS PART IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ SEXY TIMES

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Her eyes never left his as he approached her. She took the final step toward him necessary to close the distance between them again and took his face in her hands. This time when she kissed him, the dam broke; her feelings for him, their physical attraction to each other, the past two+ years…everything poured into her kiss. She was drowning in his kiss, in him, and for once she didn’t care.

Her tongue ravaged his mouth, and he let her take what she needed, what she wanted from him while his hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer. One hand slowly ran up her back and curled into her hair, deepening the kiss until both needed some oxygen. His mouth ran along her jaw to her neck and finally along her throat, grazing her skin lightly with his teeth as he tasted her.

Her hands moved to his plaid button-up shirt and shoved it over his shoulders, causing him to release his hold on her long enough to yank his arms free from it. She grabbed his t-shirt and tugged it over his head as well, her eyes and fingers traveling the lines of muscle across and down his now bare chest appreciatively. Her lips grazed against the hollow of his neck where it met his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin. Her arms moved around him, her fingers sliding up the muscles of his back as she pressed an open-mouth kiss to his chest, smiling against his skin at the low groan that escaped his throat.

When he felt her fingers at his belt before he’d even had the chance to get her shirt off her, he

caught her wrists and brought them to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Not so fast,” he murmured with a smile. He caught her playful look and returned it with one of his own before grabbing the hem of her shirt and bringing it up and over her head. His eyes darkened at the exposed skin, the black lace of her bra a stark contrast against her tanned skin. His fingers gently traced along the length of her bra strap at her shoulder as he circled behind her.

The feel of his lips on her shoulder and then her neck as he pushed her hair aside drew a gasp from her lips. His mouth lightly danced along the curve of her neck as his fingers unclasped her bra. She leaned back against him as his hands slowly slid the straps down her arms until the piece fell from her body to the floor. Her head fell back against his shoulder and her eyes closed as his lips slid to her shoulder, one hand flattening against her stomach to hold her against him, the other moving to her breast, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

He bit her shoulder gently as he squeezed her breast. One of her hands moved to cover his on her breast, and her other moved to his head, pulling him into a smoldering kiss. As she tugged his lip between her teeth and bit gently, the hand on her stomach slid lower, dipping inside her pants, his fingers lightly tracing along her underwear. She moaned her approval into his mouth and released her grip on his hand to guide the hand in her pants lower until she could press his fingers into the heat between her legs.

Even through her panties, he could feel her arousal, causing him to groan against her lips. “Kate…” he breathed, his mouth moving to her neck as his fingers slipped past the barrier of her underwear to slide between her legs. The feel of his touch where she was already so ready for him caused her hips to buck against his hand and nearly sent her spiraling. The hand still joined with his on her breast flexed and squeezed, while her hand that had guided his into her pants gripped his hip, her fingers curling in his belt loops.

He continued to work her up with his fingers at her core, his lips gently sucking and nipping at her skin, and his other hand on her breast, alternating between massaging and rolling her nipple between his fingers. It wasn’t long before he had her a whimpering mess, his name escaping her lips in a breathless moan as she crashed over the edge. His fingers continued to work her through her orgasm until she couldn’t take it anymore and gripped his forearm, tugging his hand away. He smirked against her skin, moving his hand to her stomach to hold her against him as she recovered, his lips softly caressing her skin.

Once she regained her senses, she turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his smile with one of her own. “Hi,” she murmured, kissing him slowly.

“Hi,” he returned, resting his forehead against hers. He slowly walked her back toward the bed, easing her back and lowering her down on it when her legs hit the edge. He moved over her, capturing her mouth with his in a passionate kiss, his tongue slowly stroking hers. This time when he felt her fingers slide down his chest to his belt, he didn’t stop her.

She easily unfastened his belt and the button on his pants, and then slowly slid the zipper down. Her fingers teased just underneath the waistband of his boxers before her hands moved to his hips. She pushed both his jeans and boxers over his hips, her hands sliding around to grab his ass, squeezing the ample flesh as she pulled him into the cradle of her thighs. “Get them off…” she murmured, her lips brushing against his jaw as she pushed them as far down as she could.

He did as he was told, standing and removing his last remaining clothing. She pushed up to her elbows to watch, her eyes darkening as she took in the sight of him for the first time. She sat up, her hands moving to his hips as she pulled him to stand in front of her.

“Kate…you don’t have to…” he started.

“I know,” she met his eyes with a smile. She knew he would never expect or even ask her to do what she was about to do. But she wanted him, wanted all of him; she had for awhile. “I want to taste you.”

Her lips pressed a soft kiss to his stomach, glancing up at him as one hand moved to his length, her slender fingers stroking him slowly. She smirked against his skin at the low groan and moved her mouth to his hip, nipping playfully before blazing a trail of open mouth kisses across his skin as she worked her mouth further down. She looked up at him watching her and saw his eyes close as she ran her tongue the length of him before taking him in her mouth and sucking gently.

It took all of his willpower not to buck his hips into her mouth, but he somehow managed. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching her, one hand tangling in her hair…not to guide her movement, but to simply caress her. After a few moments, he hand to stop her. “Kate…” he managed to choke out her name on a strangled moan, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “I can’t…you’ve got to stop…or it’s going to be over to soon…” he managed to get out, trying to force his breathing to return to normal.

She raised an eyebrow, slightly amused as she leaned back on her elbows. He moved with her, leaning down to kiss her again, moaning against her lips as her tongue sensually tangoed with his. His hands gripped her leggings and pulled them down her legs slowly, standing to toss them aside as she shifted to push herself up on the bed, resting her head on the pillows.

He crawled up the bed to her with a grin, dropping soft kisses to the inside of her knee and trailing his tongue along the skin of her thigh. When he reached her underwear, he paused and looked up at her. “You’re sure?” he asked her again.

She pushed up on her elbows so she could gently caress his face. “Make love to me, Rick…” she told him softly, pulling him to her for a slow, deep kiss as she slid her body against his.

He groaned, wrapping her in his arms as he deepened the kiss. When he finally broke away, he pushed up to his knees and hooked his fingers in her panties, drawing them down her legs slowly before dropping them to the floor to the side of the bed. He swallowed hard as his eyes traveled over her body slowly. “You’re beautiful, Kate…” he murmured in awe. His hand slowly, lightly ran up her thigh as he settled between her legs.

He trailed kisses across her stomach before getting sidetracked by the tattoo on her hip, which she’d fully expected, tracing the outline with his tongue. His mouth continued it’s path, until his tongue dipped inside her, finally tasting her, and he knew at that moment he was addicted. Each touch of his fingers to her skin, each press of his lips, each stroke of his tongue was reverent, as though her body was a temple at which he was worshiping. He took his time as he worked her up, enjoying the taste of her, enjoying the soft moans and whimpers of pleasure as he explored her body, learning the way she liked to be touched so intimately.

It wasn’t long before she was moaning his name as she came, her fingers clenching in the comforter on the bed. He gently but firmly held her hips in place as mouth continued to work her through her orgasm, and then suck on her bundle of nerves until she quickly came undone again, his name falling from her lips in a strangled scream. Only when her fingers curled in his hair and pulled him away slightly did he move his mouth to her hip, biting enough to leave a mark and soothing it with his tongue.

His kisses were slow and gentle as they moved back up her body, giving her time to recover. It wasn’t until he was settled in the cradle of her thighs with her hips rocking against his as they kissed passionately that he realized–he didn’t have protection on him. “Kate…” he pulled away breathlessly. “I didn’t bring…I mean, I didn’t expect that we would…I don’t have condoms…”

“Neither do I…You don’t carry one in your wallet?”

“Not if I don’t think I’m going to need it…which I didn’t…because we weren’t together…and I did not come out here with the intention of sleeping with you…” he murmured, moving to shift off her.

She gently stopped him, her fingertips lightly caressing his jaw. “Castle, it’s okay,” she assured him softly, pressing a kiss to his chin. “I’m clean. And I’m on birth control. So I’m good without one if you are.” He was the only man she would ever consider doing this with, and only because she trusted him implicitly. She'd never even had unprotected sex with Josh. There was no one she trusted the way she trusted Castle.

He stared at her for a moment, because he knew the level of trust that she was putting in him with that statement, with that action. “I’m clean…” he promised. “You’re…you’re really sure about this, Kate? Because I can’t promise you I’ll be able to pull out before I…”

She interrupted him with a kiss. “I’m sure. I trust you completely, Rick…”

This time it was him who cut off her words with a deep kiss. I love you, was right on the tip of his tongue to say, but he didn’t dare say it now. He’d told her before…on more than one occasion, admittedly not always at the best moment. The last thing he wanted was to send her running now if she wasn’t ready to hear those words from him again. Instead, he’d show her.

One of his hands found hers and he laced their fingers, pushing their joined hands above her head. His other hand lightly caressed her thigh and shifted, meeting her eyes as he slowly slid inside her. She gasped softly, and his forehead rested against hers as they both took a moment to savor the connection.

Her hand squeezed his and her free hand caressed his cheek as her lips met his again in a tender kiss. One of her legs hooked over his hip, pulling him in closer, and a soft moan escaped her throat. Another moan escaped, this time from each of them, as she rocked her hips against his to get him to move.

They exchanged breathless kisses, gentle caresses, soft moans as their bodies moved together almost seamlessly, meeting each other perfectly, each knowing what the other needed or wanted as though they were in a well-choreographed dance and not coming together for the first time.

As he felt his climax approaching, he released her hand and shifted so that he had a deeper angle. “Kate…I’m close…” he warned dropping his mouth to her neck.

Her lips moved to his ear as her hands slid down his back, her nails raking across his skin. “Let go with me…inside me…” she panted breathlessly, tugging on his ear with her teeth as her legs pulled him in closer to reinforce her words.

Her breathless moans and the way she moved her body with his, the way her legs tightened around his waist, was enough to push him over the edge and pull her with him. He thrust a few more times until he was completely spent, and dropped down, rolling them so she was on top of him.

xxxxx

SEXY TIMES IS OVER

IT IS SAFE TO READ AGAIN

EVERYTHING BELOW IS RATED T

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms silently, both catching their breath. He caught her hand drawing patterns on his chest after a few minutes and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“You were right…I had no idea,” he admitted with a grin.

She laughed softly and pushed herself up on his chest to look at him. “You still don’t,” she grinned. Seeing his look, she kissed him as she laughed again. “That was just a preview,” she murmured against his lips before pushing herself up off the bed. “Be right back,” she promised, pressing one last kiss to his lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

When she returned, he’d gotten under the covers and made no attempt to hide his enjoyment in the fact that she hadn’t bothered to put any of her clothes…or his…back on to cover up. She met his gaze with an amused arch of her eyebrow, turning the lights off on her way back to bed. “Staring is still creepy, bud.”

He chuckled as she slipped back into bed beside him. “Can’t help it,” he shrugged, turning on his side to look at her. “I told you before…I’m still amazed at your hotness.” He couldn’t help but reach out and let his fingers trace along her curves.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she echoed her own words from earlier, sliding closer to kiss him. She grinned against his lips as he deepened the kiss and threw her leg over his hips, quickly straddling him, running her hands over his chest as she stared down at him. “You wanna find out what you really had no idea about?” she asked in a husky tone, already sliding her body sinfully against his as she bit her lower lip.

He swallowed hard, his hands moving to her thighs. “Yes, please,” he managed to choke out. The way she was moving her body against his was similar to every fantasy and wet dream he’d had about her since that undercover date in the club back in February. Only now it was real…she was really here, it was really her body moving against his, and it was better than any fantasy.

She leaned down to kiss him with a wicked grin. “Your safe word still apples?” she purred against his lips.

All he could do was nod.

xxxxx

Okay, I am aware this is only the first half of the LA episode. I went a little crazy here…I told you guys it was a favorite of mine! And I am sorry, but you will have to wait until I return from vacation to get the chapter dealing with the second half of the episode. But I did make this a long one to tide you over in the meantime!

I really hope you enjoyed this one! And I look forward to reading all your comments for those who leave them!

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {11...Simplified?}

For everyone who can't see the original post! Here is chapter 11 of Better or Worse...

…………..

Cassian

…………..

I hate late flights but it was all Nesta and I could book last minute. I’m already tired, due to lack of sleep, now that I’m back on the couch. After getting cockblocked by Eris last week, and seeing that intimacy isn’t as important to my wife as it apparently is to me, I decided that sleeping on the couch would be best.

She hasn’t seemed to mind.

Not once has she asked me to come back to bed. Although, she has stayed true to her word and has been working nonstop since we decided we’d be going on vacation. I haven’t been ignoring her completely. When we’re in the same room, we’ve indulged in that same small talk that we indulged in weeks ago. Then, things started to change and get better.

Now I don’t know what to think. I’m not sure where we are now.

I debated on calling our little getaway off, but being on the beach right now sounds good, therapeutic, so here we are. Even though there’s a wall back between us, we’re taking Gwyn’s advice and going to paradise for a few days. 

Once we make it past security and to our gate, Nesta’s already pulling out her laptop. I mumble that I’m going to find coffee and leave her there to work. I feel a little better, a little less grumpy, once I get caffeine in me. I even feel nice enough to bring Nesta a latte. 

The flight is three hours long, and I sleep for most of it. Surprisingly, the plane seat is just as comfortable as the couch.

Maybe we should get a new couch. 

I only wake up when we land, as the plane jolts once it makes contact with the tarmac. Nesta’s laptop is put away, although I think it’s because they ask you to when landing, not because she chose to. Either way, she gives me a little smile and nods out the window. “We made it.”

It’s hard to see anything because it’s already dark, but I know the airport is close to the ocean. I can see city lights through the window, but I’m too tired to try and brace myself for the nightlife of Adriata tonight. 

I yawn as we pull up to our gate and the seatbelt signs are turned off. “I think our hotel is pretty close to here.” 

It wasn’t what she was expecting me to respond with. Her smile falters, but she nods. “That’s good.” 

I’m not in the mood for the small talk right now. I don’t have patience for it. Swiping my phone out of my pocket, I see that it’s nearly midnight. I turn it off of airplane mode and a barrage of texts and emails come through. I ignore the texts from my employees until tomorrow and skim over my email, deciding the contents of it can wait until the sun rises, too.

I open the group chat between my brothers and I, sending off a short text letting them know we’d landed. Azriel replies almost immediately, telling us to have fun, while Rhys is all radio silence. Seeing as it’s almost two in the morning in Velaris, I’m not surprised.

It’s taking forever for the people ahead of us to disembark, so I open my text thread with just Az, not wanting to wake up a likely sleeping Rhys or worse — Feyre.

You’re up late, I text. Everything okay?

Again, his reply is almost instantaneous. It’s all good. Elain woke up from a dream craving butter crunch ice cream. I’m at my third grocery store looking for it.

Chuckling, I respond, You know she’ll be fast asleep by the time you get home.

Yeah, but her smile in the morning will make it worth it.

I hate the jealousy that shoots through me reading my brother’s words.

Gwyn is still the only person we’ve told about Nesta’s miscarriages. They have no idea how badly I want what they both have.

Still, I reply, Take care of your woman. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

I hit send as soon as we finally get moving, then we’re making our way to baggage claim. Half an hour later, with my bag tossed over my shoulder and wheeling Nesta’s suitcase behind me, we’re finding a cab to take us down to the beach, where our hotel is.

Nesta booked the flight, but I chose the hotel. With a weight room bigger than the one at my gym and walking distance to the shore, I didn’t even have to think twice about spending the ridiculous amount of money to book us a suite. 

Nesta doesn’t seem to mind either as we make our way into the lobby and she looks around, impressed. The thought occurs to me then that maybe I should’ve picked a shitty hotel. If she likes it too much, it will be that much more tempting to stay in our room and work as she overlooks the endless blue waters beyond our balcony.

Nonetheless, I check in and we make our way up to the ninth floor where our suite lies at the end of the hall. 

The room is big, clean, with a giant bathroom that has a jacuzzi and a little living room with a mini kitchen.

 The only issue is that the couch in the living room is nothing more than a loveseat, which means that it will be me and Nesta in the same bed, yet again.

At least it’s a king size. 

Apparently I’m staring disappointedly at the bed because Nesta asks, “Something wrong?”

Surely she knows. One look at her and I can tell she does. “Nope.”

I toss our bags on the loveseat and open mine up, finding my toothbrush and all my other toiletries before making my way to the bathroom and closing the door behind me.

I take longer in the bathroom than I usually would, but I also admit that I’m being a bit of a coward. I’m hoping that when I come out, Nesta will be in bed, already asleep, and I can curl up on the uncomfortable loveseat for what I can only imagine will be one of the worst night’s sleep of my life. I want to skip the fight that I feel is inevitable. I’m too tired to fight, too tired to explain to her why I can’t sleep in the bed with her.

But what I want doesn’t matter, because when I exit the bathroom, Nesta isn’t in bed. She isn’t even in the room.

The sliding door leading the balcony is open, sheer, white curtains fluttering in the warm breeze and I know that’s where I’ll find her.

She doesn’t notice me immediately, her eyes closed as she takes in the ocean air. Her hair hangs long and loose down her back, freed from the braid she usually wears it in, and she’s changed out of her leggings and t-shirt. I don’t recognize the pale, lace night gown she’s wearing.

But she looks absolutely ethereal standing in the moonlight.

I’m breathless.

Even when I’m pissed, frustrated with this woman, she has the power to take my breath away.

Which is why I’m still here, why I didn’t leave for good. I need that reminder as I step onto the balcony. 

Her eyes open as I lean against the railing next to her but she doesn’t look at me. For a moment, neither of us say a word, but then she says, “You can’t sleep on that couch.”

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore relax me. “I know.”

“Does that mean you’re okay sleeping with me tonight?” she asks, and her voice is quiet which is strange for Nesta. It’s strange to hear fear lacing her tone, even if it’s subtle. 

“I did debate on creating a pillow blockade between us,” I say, and I say it as a joke even though it’s something I considered while getting ready for bed. 

Nesta huffs a laugh but there’s hardly any humor in it. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Cassian—”

“It’s late,” I say, and finally look at her. She’s still looking at the water, but her body is relaxed as if she’s come to terms with the conversation we’re about to have. “We can do this tomorrow—”

“No, we can’t.” She turns toward me then and looks up. Her eyes are pleading. “I don’t want this vacation to start off on the wrong foot. This is supposed to be good for us and it can’t be good for us if we’re not communicating. You’re pissed.” I open my mouth, but she shakes her head before I can say anything. “And don’t say you’re not. I’m not stupid, Cassian. I messed up, and I’ve been pretending like I didn’t do anything wrong but I did. I know I did, and I feel foolish. The other night… I’ve been wanting you to touch me like that for so long. It wasn’t that I wanted you to stop, because I didn’t, but when I saw Eris was calling me, my stubborn, workaholic nature took over and I had to answer. If I hadn’t answered, it would have been all I was thinking about, instead of what we were doing. And that’s not an excuse, because I know I hurt you when I answered the damn phone, and you’re right. I shouldn’t have.”

You’re right. Those are not words that leave my wife’s mouth often. 

“But I meant what I said, what I promised you. This weekend is about us. I’m going to wake up every morning, respond to emails, mark a couple of little things off my checklist, and that’s it. And if you feel like I’m taking too long, then tell me. But I got a lot done in the last week, just so I can spend this time with you, uninterrupted. I want you to know that I’m all in, with you. You’re more important than my job, and if you’re feeling like you’re not, I need you to be vocal about it so I can be more aware.”

Last time I was vocal about it, she answered the phone anyways, but I don’t tell her that now. She’s trying. She’s communicating. She’s being honest. So, I nod. “It’s late,” I repeat, although more gentle than before. “Let’s get to bed so we can have a good day tomorrow.”

The fear in her eyes fades and she looks relieved as she takes my hand. I let her pull me inside, toward the bed, where we lay down together beneath the blankets. 

Nothing more is said as we drift off to sleep, but she lays her head against my chest and I hold on to her through the night.

…………..

Nesta

…………..

I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep since the last time I had Cass in bed with me, and the only reason I wake up now is because the newly awoken sun is streaming through the thin curtains and my husband’s cock is burying itself painfully into my backside. 

All night, he never let me go. My back is pressed up against his front, his arm slung lazily across my waist as he breathes steadily into the silence. I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back. It calms me.

I know that he’s sleeping better now than he has in days, too, and I don’t want to wake him so I stay perfectly still, even though I’m tempted, even if all I can think about is the feel of him up against me. 

All I’ve been able to think of since that night is how I could be so stupid. We’ve been making so much progress. We’ve both opened up and talked about things we didn’t want to. I’ve acknowledged that I work too much and that it’s not only one of my character flaws but the main reason I nearly lost my husband.

And the first opportunity I have to prove that he means more to me than any job ever will? I fuck it up.

For a moment, I let myself consider how that night could have ended if I didn’t answer the phone.

Likely with me bent over the kitchen counter, one of my knees propped up on one of the bar stools, as Cassian gripped my hips, pounding into me—

Cassian’s arm tightened around my waist as he shifted in his sleep and I tensed, not sure if he was awake. He murmured something, a sure sign that he was still dreaming, and settled into his pillows, not loosening his grip on me.

His thick erection, nestled into the cleft of my ass, was all I could think about. It made the throbbing between my legs all the more insistent and for a second I thought about touching myself.

What a hell of a way to wake my husband up on the first morning of our vacation.

But then I had a better idea.

I listened closely to the sound of his breathing, ensuring he was still well and truly asleep and then carefully turned over in his arms. It was a slow process, considering the hold he had on me, but after a minute, I found myself gazing into his sleeping face.

Even fast asleep, he’s ridiculously handsome, although that cocky tilt of his lips is gone when he’s out like this. I lay there for a minute, admiring his beauty, and then he stirs and I freeze. The hand that’s slung around me moves lower, his hand cupping my ass with a content sigh before he starts snoring, softly.

I force myself not to laugh, even if it’s adorable, until he shifts again and I can feel every inch of him perfectly against the thin fabric of my nightgown. Mother damn me, I want him inside of me. It takes everything within me not to grind against him, not to take control and give myself pleasure, but this wouldn’t be about me.

It would be about him. 

I reach up and brush his hair back with teasingly soft fingertips. His lips, in perfect calm, form the softest of smiles.

With my hands still tucked in close to me, I press my lips to the center of his chest. It's a soft kiss, my mouth meeting his warm, toned skin, but I let it linger. I let my tongue brush over his skin, and then I move my lips to a new spot and do the same. As I pepper his chest with lingering kisses, I run a hand up his abdomen. His body jumps a little beneath my touch, almost like it tickles, and his hand on my ass tightens. My leg is drawn up over him, and now that I can feel his erection against my throbbing clit, I can’t stop myself from rocking my hips against him, just to ease the torturous feeling, if only a little. Cassian groans quietly, and I know that he’s now awake, even though his eyes are still closed, when his hips rock back into me.

I used to wake him up like this all the time, and he would do the same to me. Waking one another with little, teasing kisses until it escalated into something far more. I miss waking up like this, with him, starting off my day in pure bliss, with a euphoric high. 

He breathes my name, and the second it falls from his tongue, I can’t control myself any longer. My mouth trails up the side of his neck until it finds that spot he loves, just beneath his jaw, just below his ear and sucks vigorously as my hand slides back down his hard abdomen. My fingers tease the waistband of his sweatpants, but he’s not having it. 

“Nesta,” he pleads, yet again, and I nip at his skin, causing him to moan quietly above his deep, heavy breaths. His hips can’t stay still, as if his cock has a mind of its own. But he shouldn’t have to chase it, shouldn’t have to be the one to guide pleasure. My hand slips into his sweats and I take him into my hand.

The second my fingers wrap around his length, he curses. 

I lean back, and his eyes are open, his lips parted. The look full of lust and love and need that he gives me makes me want to mount him right here and now, but this morning is about him. Instead, I pump him a few times, slowly, before pulling my hand out of his pants and just when he’s about to protest, I straddle his thighs and yank his sweats down until he’s free.

Everything about my husband is magnificent. His face, his hair, his body. And most definitely is cock.

Beautiful, and hard, and absolutely enormous. My mouth is watering as I look at him, at his body I’ve scarcely seen over the past year, at his cock, staring and already dripping precum and practically begging for me to touch it.

Gripping him at the base, I lean in, ready to swirl my tongue around the swollen head, just how I know drives him wild, and—

His hands grab my shoulders, stopping me. “Nesta, you don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t have to,” I agree, rubbing the head of his cock over my lips. “But I want to.”

He makes a choking sound, but doesn’t try to stop me any further.

After almost ten years together, I know his body as well as my own. I know what makes him go crazy and what will unleash him. I know every spot that tickles, what to do that will make him moan and groan and lose control. This morning, I’m pretending I don’t. I take my time exploring him, slowly dragging fingers up and down his length, over the ridge of the swollen head, teasing a vein that runs along the side.

Gazing up at him, I grip him tightly at the base and flick my tongue over the head once. As soon as my tongue glides over his skin, his hand is in my hair and he curses violently.

Our eyes are locked as I do it again, and his jaw ticks as he swallows harshly. The fingers in my hair tighten which makes me moan, a sound that drives my husband wild. I slowly work him, my mouth and hand working in tandem. It isn’t until his head is back on the pillow, his eyes closed, his breathing quick that I take the entirety of him into my mouth. 

That foul language of his greets me once more, and his filthy mouth does things to me that I have no control of. I keep still for a moment, my tongue running wild before I release him and repeat the motion, again and again, taking him into my mouth, a little quicker each time. His fingers are still tangled into my hair, gripping each strand hard enough to bring on a pleasant tinge of pain. I relish in it, in that pain, in this moment. I don’t even realize I’m touching myself until I’m moaning, the sound muffled as I take him in, as I cup his balls with my free hand and give them a squeeze. 

Unable to keep still any longer, Cassian’s hips began to writhe beneath me. With one quick buck, I have him fully in my mouth yet again, and I grab his ass to encourage him to repeat the motion.

His other hand joins the one in my hair, but this one smooths it back off my face, making sure he can see everything I’m doing. Gazing up at him, I can tell the second he notices my hand moving frantically, my own orgasm building quicker than I expected it. His eyes grow impossibly darker, fingers massaging my scalp before pulling on the strands of my hair again. “Are you close?”

I nod, loving the gravely tone of his voice, rough with sleep and lust. My mouth is too full to answer directly, so I bob my head in time with the fingers plunging in and out of my center.

Cassian tugs my hair, once again. “Let me watch you come.”

My entire body feels like it’s on fire as my toes curl, that sensation that I haven’t felt in so long starting to flow its way through my body. My mouth, my movements, become less fluid and Cassian tugs at my hair again, this time pulling my mouth free of his cock.

Dragging me up his body, his lips crash against mine as his fingers replace mine. I gasp at the feeling of his fingers sliding through my folds, unable to stop the moan as he circles my clit.

Reaching between us, I grip his cock, still slick and wet from my mouth and squeeze as I stroke him from base to tip.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, pumping his hips into my hand, fucking it like he had my mouth moments before. I’m just as desperate for release as he is. I’m grinding into his hand as he expertly works me, thumb circling my clit in time with the finger he has plunged inside me, knowing it’ll have me on the edge in a matter of seconds. He bites down on my neck and I moan. “So wet and so needy.”

And then he lowers his head to my breasts.

The blunt edge of his teeth on my nipple sends me falling into utter bliss. I cry out as my entire body tenses, my pussy clenching around his fingers.

Cassian groans low and then I can feel a warm wetness on my lower belly and my hand. Still lost in the orgasm crashing through me, I barely notice as Cassian curses softly, his voice laced with ecstasy.

Then his mouth is on mine again and he’s kissing me like I’m the air he needs to breathe, like a man who’s been starving being presented a feast.

My mind can’t form a single thought. All I can focus on are his hands around my waist, his mouth on mine, the hunger and desperate need radiating off of him, even though we’ve both found our releases. There’s something far deeper that just happened between us than helping one another orgasm and feel good. A wall has broken down, a barrier has crumbled that has been up for far too long. I feel lighter as he kisses me, as his tongue brushes mine, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

And when I break our kiss to meet his gaze, I know, without a doubt, that he feels it, too.

[obsessedtomone]

Unravel Yourself Before Me ⛓️ Chapter 3 - Avoidance▸Shigaraki x femReader

Summary:

◤You roll your eyes. Why the fuck do you feel like you’ve done something wrong—like it’s your fault? Didn’t you bury all those useless feelings all the way down? Clearly not. 

Maybe it’s the guilt streak that you’ve been on since your class together on Monday, combined with ghosting that guy at the arcade, that prompts you to go ahead and do something really, really stupid.

“Hey,” you whisper, tapping your fingers against the surface of the neighboring desk to get his attention. Why are you doing this again? 

“Hey, dude.” You test his patience a little louder this time and he turns his head, glaring daggers at you.◢ Setting: University AU - No quirks (unless degenerate personalities count) Tags: Slow burn, Eventual Smut, Unhealthy/Toxic Relationships, Humiliation, Mentally Ill Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to ??? Warning: Dead Dove – Do Not Eat | Mind the tags TW: Implied Su/Self H, Dubcon, Reader has a super shitty past like actually, Shigaraki Tomura is his own warning.

AO3 Crosspost | Chain Divider by firefly-graphics

Chapters: One • Two • Three • Four

Chapter 3 - Avoidance

Ding!

The front door to the store opens and another customer strolls in, politely getting in line behind the one you’re about to serve.

“Hi, how may I help you today?” you ask, giving them your fakest smile and using the most saccharine high-pitched voice that would put discord kittens to shame.

It’s Wednesday today and this marks your third shift at Cinnabon. You had to look for a job after buying one too many League skins, your scholarship not being enough to cover all of your bills in the past few months. You’re still refusing to come to terms with how financially wasteful you generally are, especially when it comes to detrimental impulse-purchases for in-game cosmetics.

It’s gonna be fiiiine, you tell yourself, there’s no way this will bite you in the ass!

Except it has and you’ve already had to borrow money from Taylor before, otherwise you would’ve been evicted. 

That in and of itself was a huge wake-up call to you, since it’s a) absolutely shameful to owe your friend rent money, because you couldn’t help yourself pimping out your online-pixels (you do look bitchin’, though) and b) ridiculously terrifying, because what if your friend didn’t exist to pick you up? What then? 

You don’t want to get your ass kicked out on the streets mid-semester in autumn and end up making buddies with the bridge hobos. You really can’t afford that, and unlike most people, you lack the safety net to fall back on. There’s no family on standby for you, ready to jump whenever you sink. So let this be the last fucking time you’ll ever need anyone’s help getting by.

You don’t need anyone to fucking save you. 

Not anymore.

Which brings you to the current part-time, where you work from 5 PM to 11 PM.

“Anything else, sir?” Gene assists you while bagging the delicious cinnamon buns for the customer to take home. You ended up getting sick of the cinnamon smell pretty much by the end of your first shift on the job.

Secretly rolling your eyes at the way the customer throws you his change, you briefly glance at the clock. 

It’s currently 10:45 PM and the mall is about to close down for the day. Most of the footsteps are thankfully dwindling down and setting pace towards the exit, while the stores around Cinnabon already let their front shutters down.

Gene shoots you and Mary, your teenage(?) coworker, a pointed look.

“You kids can start cleaning up, I’ll do inventory.”

He’s in his late 50s, wearing a pair of yellow-tinted glasses (ones that you’re pretty sure went out of style around ‘09) and hiding his receding hairline under the Cinnabon cap that’s part of your uniform get-up. This is Gene, the legend who hired an ambitionless brat like you on spot.

He’d said he “Saw potential in you, kid,” whatever the fuck that meant. 

You didn’t argue, though, not when you can use the slightly-above-minimum-wage job. So here you fucking are, trying your damnedest not to beat the living shit out of every second asshole who walks in here and acts like they fucking own you.

“You girls can leave after you’re done, I’ll close up. Good work today,” he says as he does every time, and without fail, you also routinely respond with an:

“I’ll stay and help.”

Mary had already bounced by now, saying she had to catch a movie with a friend or something. You didn’t really listen to her rambling because you really didn’t care.

“Nah, this is part of my routine. Go home and catch some Z’s, kiddo. You look like you need it,” he dismisses you with a smug smile. 

You almost want to tell them that you’ll probably use that time to sink more countless hours in some videogame instead, but you hold back.

So instead of replying, you just nod, grab your things and leave dressed in your work uniform. You’re too tired to change your clothes and decide you’ll catch the bus like this, even though you probably smell like a whole ass cinnamon factory. 

God, you can’t wait to get home and wash this shit off.

─────────

The cool air of humid rainy weather hits your warm oven-baked cheeks first, as you step outside of the mall. 

It’s already so dark, but since this is the posh part of the city you live in, you’re quite unlikely to run into as many weirdos as you would in your own neighborhood alleyway.

On your way to the bus station, you notice a small arcade and wonder if you should go in for a round. It’s probably a bad idea, considering you’re tight on savings… but it’s not like your trigger-spending habits will disappear overnight, so—

Fuck it.

Unable to resist temptation, you reach into your pockets to feel for any coins, and when you finally find a (very) small fortune of today’s tips, you step inside.

You’re greeted by a flurry of different sensations as you step into the colorful wonderland of electronic games. The first thing that your awareness picks up being the cacophony of familiar sounds, such as the clinking of coins, or many different old games screaming for you to play them. 

The second thing you notice is the variety of screens and their rainbow of glowing colors, casting light on a floor that hasn’t been cleaned in god knows how long.

Then there’s the smell. A tinge of candy-like sweetness in the otherwise stuffy room, seeing as the only real ventilation the place gets, is when people pass through the automatic sliding doors.

It’s a pleasant chaos that throws you right to the past. You don’t usually find yourself in arcades, for the simple fact that you have a pretty good gaming rig at home—and because you are a social recluse.

You make your way through the maze of games, claw machines, gambling stations and the like, feeling your heartbeat pick up in excitement for the first time in a while, and keeping an eye out for your favorite arcade game:

Sunset Riders.

That game was like your bread and butter when you were a kid. 

Whenever your shitty foster parents were too busy knocking each other’s teeth out, you’d snatch some of their hidden savings and slip outside of the house to run to the local arcade—nevermind that the reason they were fighting was because they blamed each other for the disappearing funds, thinking booze and gambling. 

You walk around the few rows of machines without any luck and almost give up when you reach the back of the venue—until you finally see it, shining in all its glory.

But much to your disappointment, some fucking guy is already occupying the machine.

The establishment is almost empty this late in the day, save for a group of drunk students you saw on the way here and maybe the bozo trying to win his girlfriend an overpriced stuffed animal at one of the rigged claw machines.

So what’s the fucking chance some guy hogs a game that came out decades ago, the one night you decide to walk into this arcade?

Astronomical, you decide.

He side-eyes you for a second when he notices you standing there with a look of thought on your face, and when you turn on your heel to leave, he speaks up: 

“Oh, u-umm—you—you don’t have to leave!” He scratches the back of his head and mumbles in a boyish voice. 

The guy looks like he’s in his twenties, but you can’t be sure under the flickering dimmed screens and the overall dark ambient. He has long hair that seems either red or purple and wears a black jacket on top of a (possibly) white hoodie.

“I was just about to quit anyway. You can have it.” He exits his round and turns to you, mouth opening and closing before he continues speaking, “Have you, uh—have you played this one before?” he asks, fidgeting. “Ah, shit. That was a stupid question, wasn’t it? Ha ha… sorry.”

There’s no way you’d walk all the way to the back of an arcade for a game if you didn’t know about it beforehand, he quickly realizes. And for some reason that was his tipping point, the one that pushes him to abruptly take his leave, walking past you. 

But before he’s out of hearing range, your mouth opens to answer.

“I used to play this a lot as a kid,” you say, throwing a thumb back, towards the machine, wondering why exactly you’re revealing this piece of information to a complete fucking stranger. It’s so extremely unlike you.

He turns around, eyes wide and he rewards you with a nervous smile. “Y-Yeah? Same here! I used to play this shit all the time, actually. It’s my favorite a-arcade g-game.”

You briefly wonder if he’s stuttering because of his nature or if you came across as unapproachable, as your insecurity goblins were tap-dancing on top of your brain, recalling various people telling you they avoided you because they thought you were a bitch.

Most of the time, it served you well. You don’t talk to people, you don’t engage in banter or meaningless small-talk with them. You’ve made one friend in god knows how many years, for fuck’s sake.

So why are you doing something so unlike you today?

“Yeah,” you reply with a smile of your own. “It’s my favorite too. Honestly, I didn’t expect this tiny ass arcade to even have a copy.”

He frowns at you as though you’d insulted his ancestors. 

“Huh?! It’s not that small, man! T-They have plenty of games, I could show you!” he speaks up, if a little too loudly, then proceeds to stumble on his words, and get red in the face. Or purple. You couldn’t be sure. “A-Ah! Shit—I mean, if—if you’d like to. M-My name’s Shuichi!” 

“Alright, Shuichi,” you say, letting out a rare giggle and cocking your brow. “Lead the fucking way.”

His eyes go wide in presumably shock. You actually said yes to that word vomit and didn’t up and leave. It was something that took you by surprise too, if you were honest.

But you never are. Time passes by and you guys proceed to spend the next few hours showing each other ‘epic’ strategies and tricks for different machines, as well as taking mental notes of the games that looked interesting to you, thinking about trying them again some other time.

You’re genuinely having fun. Like, tons.

However, the clock is already hitting two in the dead of the fucking night and you do actually have classes in the morning.

“Hey, dude?” you ask, slightly distracted by the co-op game you were playing for the past half hour.

“Yeah?” Shuichi replies, half-listening and struggling to keep up with you, not expecting to be bested at yet another one of his favorite games—or close to all of the games you guys have tried for that matter. You kinda remind him of—

“Sorry, but I gotta bounce after this round. Got class in the morning.” You squint, trying to catch the last few aliens that were escaping your aim.

“O-Oh.” His fingers freeze on the joystick and his character idly walks into a wall, getting swarmed before it dies. “C-Can I…”

“Hm?” you ask with an encouraging nod in his direction, clearing the round on your own and exiting the game.

“Can I—uh—can I have your number? O-Or discord tag? Or e-mail or… or anything?” The purple haired boy asks with way too many words, but that didn’t bother you.

“Sorry, I only use the telegraph,” you tease.

“H-Huh?”

“Err, nothing… I was joking. Here.” You throw him your ancient phone. “I’ll, uh, text you when I’m home.”

It seems to take him a second to process it, glancing at your device after which he bursts out laughing, if a little too loudly. One of your eyebrows raises in response.

“D-Do they—hahaha—do they even manufacture these anymore?” he asks between his fits of breathy laughter, making you pinch your brows together.

“Hey! It can call, text and it plays music,” you say, knowing Spotify does freeze like half the fucking time. You roll your eyes, though, his contagious nerdy laughter infecting you and making you giggle as well. “It’s really not that bad, okay?”

“Sure, sure. Here, take it back before it falls apart in my hands and you ask me to buy you a new one. Pretty sure it’d cost me a fortune, since you probably own the last of its kind,” he says, his remark making you snort and you snatch your artifact from him, putting it back in your pocket.

“Whatever you say, dude. Catch you later.” You smile fondly before turning to leave.

“W-Will you, uh… really text me back? I… It’s gonna sound super lame, I know, but I don’t make friends often and, uh… it was really fun to play with you.”

“Sure,” you lie, “I had hella fun too. See you around?” 

“For sure!”

You wave at him, finally going on your way home.

You feel gross, not only because you’re still dressed in your uniform, but also because of the tinge of sadness that’s now lingering in your heart for a second time this week.

─────────

Class is almost full as it usually is, and you take the seat in the back as you usually do.

It’s comp-sci again and you half-wonder if that weird guy’s gonna show up today or if he’s going to skip. The two of you share CS classes about twice a week, with you last seeing him on Monday. 

Monday where you blatantly ignored him and left him hanging like an asshole.

In your (totally unbiased) opinion, the jerk fucking deserved it, but if you thought about it really hard—if you properly squinted—you’d admit that your antagonistic nature did not help the few encounters you two had.

Too bad you generally don’t like to think too hard.

The bell rings, the professor enters the classroom and you realize you might not be seeing your creepy acquaintance today. A relief, honestly. You didn’t know how to deal with his weird mood-swings last time and you don’t know if you want to deal with them this time either.

But you’re never lucky, because you see a pale, slouched, lanky figure trudging amongst other students. You observe carefully and fortunately for you, he seems to aim for an open front row seat—the one that’s as far from you as possible. Your best guess right now is that he can’t stand sitting next to you again after the last interaction.

Good riddance, you think.

But you don’t fucking mean it for some reason.

And yet again, you could never be that fucking lucky, because one of the students he was going to sit next to gets startled by his mere presence, and then anxiously denies him the seat (possibly in favor of their own friend coming in late). He must’ve said something in return, because you see the student flinching and then he resigns to moving towards the back row, a deep scowl forming on his face before you look away from him.

The asshole wouldn’t sit anywhere next to you this time around, leaving a considerable gap of three whole open seats between the two of you—god forbid you infect him with something. 

Common sense, maybe. Not that you have any, but… it’s probably more than he does, right?

Him treating you like decomposing garbage and putting space in between, leaves you feeling something indescribable twist inside your gut. 

You roll your eyes. Why the fuck do you feel like you’ve done something wrong—like it’s your fault? Didn’t you bury all those useless feelings all the way down? Clearly not. 

Maybe it’s the guilt streak that you’ve been on since your class together on Monday, combined with ghosting that guy at the arcade, that prompts you to go ahead and do something really, really stupid.

“Hey,” you whisper, tapping your fingers against the surface of the neighboring desk to get his attention. Why are you doing this again? 

“Hey, dude.” You test his patience a little louder this time and he turns his head, glaring daggers at you.

“What the fuck do you want, tramp?” he spits at you in a low and cold grating voice while tapping away at his phone. “Buzz off, before I break that stupid little face of yours.”

Alright, he definitely closed himself off after last time, lock and fucking key.

Scoffing, you reply with a “Whatever” and turn back to your seat with a scowl.

You don’t notice him raising an angry brow when you start typing at your assignments.

Nor do you see the questions arising in his mind.

His carmine eyes observe you carefully for just a second longer, looking at you like you were some kind of anomaly—a glitch in the game, after which he ignores you completely for the rest of the class, the blatant attitude aggravating your already bad mood.

“For the next project, you’ll work in groups of four. I’ve uploaded the list of themes and added the corresponding names. My only request is for everyone to reach out and cooperate with each other, meaning team effort will be the key here,” Mr Reynolds speaks, gesturing to the entirety of the room. “Deadline is in two weeks from now and tardiness will not be tolerated. All groups will get enough time to present in front of the class.”

The teacher goes on to talk about some more details that will likely be in the briefing of your class, but you don’t bother to check any of it, packing your stuff into your bag and making a beeline for the exit as soon as the bell rings.

For some reason, you feel kind of upset—no, really fucking upset at the earlier interaction, and you don’t really understand why.

The universe, however, wouldn’t allow you to dwell on this feeling much longer.

[supercap2319]

Baby It’s Cold Outside Chapter 2

A/N: Warning: Mention of child abuse. Abuse. Running away. This is depressing as fudge, I promise next chapter will be happier.

Tyler nervously watched the time on his phone change from 11:59 pm to 12:00 am. It’s midnight and his father still isn’t home yet. The young man had been pacing around the room in a nervous anticipation ever since his conversation with Y/N at the Weathervane earlier today. After his shift at work, he waited antsy for his father to come home in hopes that he could ask him for permission to spend Christmas with Y/N.

Hopefully, he said yes.

The sound of keys jingling and the front door opening up jolted Tyler out of his thoughts as he watched his dad come into the living room, still dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. His tired eyes cast a glance over at Tyler as he turned fully towards his son. “Looking for something?”

Tyler shook his head no.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed already?” Sheriff Galpin asked. He sat down in a chair and began to remove his boots. Tyler watched him pull his feet free of them before putting them on the side of the chair. “I-I couldn’t sleep. Plus, there’s something that I need to ask you.”

That got the Sheriff's attention as he looked at his son with inquisitive eyes. Eyebrows raised. “Oh, and what might that be?”

“Can I go to Y/N Munster’s house for Christmas? He invited me to go.”

“Munster invited you?” The sheriff asks.

Tyler nodded his head.

The sheriff is silent for a second, looking at Tyler. Looking him up and down and Tyler has to fight the urge to look away from him, or look down. Finally, Tyler’s dad gave him his answer, and it makes his heart sink faster than the Titanic. “No. No, I don’t want you to go with that boy. He’s a menace, and I don’t trust him or his family.”

“But dad it’s only for a few days and I’ll be back in no–”

“–What part of ‘no,’ don’t you understand, boy?” The sheriff glares up at his son as the youngest Galpin falls silent. His father’s tone was any indication that this conversation was over. No more arguing or bargaining. Tyler wasn’t going anywhere, and that was final.

Tyler nods his head in defeat as he tries not to cry in front of his dad. Cry would only make the situation worse for himself if he did. So, he sucks it up until he’s safely inside the confines of his room to cry in peace. “Yes, sir. Sorry, dad. You're right.”

Sheriff Galpin nods his head. “Good. Now, go to bed because you still have semester tests tomorrow before winter break.”

Tyler nods once again as he leaves the living room, and up the stairs towards his room as he goes inside, shuts and locks the door before the tears fall down his face. He should have seen this coming. His father was the walking personification of a macho, straight male guy. Of course, he wouldn’t want his son going to an outcast's house for Christmas. Tyler was so stupid to believe that he would say yes. He should have expected the disappointment.

He sat down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling as he cried. His dad never used to be like this. So cold. Mean. Abusive. It started after his mom passed away when he was 6. And now sheriff Galpin was always on his son’s case about everything. And the worst part of it all was that Tyler hadn't told him about Y/N. That they were dating. He wouldn’t be disappointed in him, no, he would be fucking disgusted and beat him black and blue until the homosexual came out of him. Which is why Tyler hasn’t told Y/N that he hasn’t told his dad about them. He didn’t want to put Y/N through all that, but none of that mattered because he wasn’t going to be able to spend Christmas with his boyfriend.

Tyler looked at his phone and debated in his head on whether to text Y/N the bad news. Tell him that his dad has forbidden him from going anywhere with him. He could picture his boyfriend’s face, sad and full of tears, and it was enough to make Tyler cry once again, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever again. Maybe it was the Hyde side of him taking over, but in the recesses of his mind, a plan started to form. A plan that would change everything for him. His life. His relationship with his father. All of him. Was he prepared to accept the consequences?

Tyler got up from his bed as he began packing his things. Throwing clothes, shoes, personal items inside a giant duffel bag. He realized that his Hyde side might be pushing him, but ultimately this was his decision. He was conscious even to know what this would mean, and that there was no turning back once he chose to go down this road. And to be honest? Tyler couldn’t care less. He was running away from the town of Jericho. From his abusive dad. All of it.

….

The next day, Tyler kept spacing out, staring at nothing. He wasn’t paying attention during his classes, and he almost failed his semester tests, catching the worried eyes of his teachers. The thought of his father easily finding out about his little plan to run away. Catching him and punishing him. It made him shiver more than the cold weather was supposed to. He shakes his head, as if that act would instantly clear his head. That’s when he focuses on his task at hand, finishing his tests so he can leave school, pick up Y/N, and go. Once he’s finished each and everyone one of said tests, he leaves the classroom thinking he’s done his best. Probably not an A+ material, but good enough to pass for the semester.

Tyler holds tightly on his backpack straps as he passes by Lucas Walker. The son of the former mayor and sheriff as he nods to Tyler in understanding. This morning before school, Tyler offered Lucas a deal. If he would say that Tyler’s staying at his house for a few days, the Galpin boy would pay him fifty dollars to keep quiet. By then Tyler will have come up with a better plan by Christmas, he hoped. Lucas’s friends eyed him suspiciously as they still resented him for hanging and being friendly to the outcasts at Nevermore. Thankfully, not knowing of his Hyde side and all the terrible things he did, because they would hate him even more than they already did.

The young halfbreed pushed through the doors of the school as the frigid air of December blew through his clothes as he walked towards his truck.

“So, you and Tyler are both coming home for Christmas?”

Y/N could practically hear the smile in his mother’s voice as she said that. He chuckles. “Yeah, Ma. Tyler and I are coming home for Christmas. Tyler’s picking me up at 1:00 pm after he gets done with his semester test and we’ll head that way.”

“Well, your father and I can’t wait to meet him. Neither can grandpa Marilyn and Eddie.”

“Did you say that the whole family was coming from the old country?” Y/N asked as he pushed the last of his clothes into his duffel bag.

“Yes, dear. All your uncles are coming home for the holidays.”

“Well, I can wait to see you guys and everyone else, but I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, honey. See you soon.”

“Bye, Ma.” Y/N hangs up the phone as he makes sure he is everything ready before Tyler gets here. Nevermore was almost empty. Almost everyone had left this morning. His cousin Wednesday and Thing had left when his Uncle Gomez and Aunt Morticia came to pick up their daughter. Enid’s parents had come to get her. Bianca’s mom came to get her. Then Ajax had left with his older brother. Then a black, sleek car pulled up to the front of the school, as Xavier got in and winked at Y/N as he left for home as well. That left Y/N and a couple of other students who were still waiting for their rides and staff members.

About 15 minutes later, Y/N gets a text from Tyler that he’s on his way.

The young Munster smiled as he got his duffel bag, his backpack, and bundled up for the cold as he walked out of his dorm room, down the stairs and out to the front, waiting for his boyfriend to come pick him up. When he saw the red of Tyler’s pickup truck, Y/N smiled widely.

It pulled up right in front of him as the windows of the passenger side rolled down and Tyler’s boyish face could be seen. “Hey, baby.”

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at the nickname as a blush chases its way onto his face as Tyler comes from the driver side and pulls Y/N close into a kiss as red colored both their cheeks. From the kiss and the cold. Tyler pulled away, his blue eyes shining and a teasing smile on his handsome face. Y/N noticed the way light snow fell on Tyler’s golden brown locks and he had to resist the urge to run his fingers through them.

“You all set?”

Tyler’s voice brought Y/N back to reality. “Yeah, all set. Just this duffel bag and backpack and I’m good.” He showed the other boy his contents as he grabbed them from his hands and put them gently in the bed of his truck as he came back and laced his fingers with Y/N’s, pulling him towards the open passenger door. Tyler then puts a hand on the small of Y/N’s back, and the curly-haired barista pushed him into the passenger seat and closed the door as he came around to the driver side and got inside as he smiled. “Alright, next stop, New Jersey?”

“Yeah. I have the directions on my phone.” Y/N messes with his device for a few minutes before the navigation system comes on. It’s about a seven hour drive if they don’t stop too much.

“Great. And I’ve got a phone charger here for our phones and I’ve got chips and soda here, but if you get hungry we can stop somewhere later if you want?” Tyler asked him.

“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait for my whole family to meet you. I’m so excited.” Y/N is practically jumping in his seat with excitement as Tyler chuckles at his boyfriend’s amusement.

“And your dad was okay with you spending Christmas with my family?”

Tyler knew this question would pop up sooner or later, but he was still shocked when he heard Y/N ask it. He had prepared a whole speech for Y/N last night about how his dad didn’t give him permission at all to come with him, and oh, there was that small little detail of him running away from home. No biggie. Instead of telling him the truth; Tyler slipped into his other half. The half of him that lied to Y/N the first time when he had been accused of being the Hyde by Wednesday. The part of himself that almost ruined things between them. And now here he was, jeopardizing that very same relationship again, thanks to his lies. He just hopes that Y/N will understand and won’t hate him for lying to him again.

Tyler then put the truck in drive as he and Y/N drove away from Nevermore as it got smaller and smaller in the background as they drove through Jericho as Tyler’s heart spiked as they passed the Now leaving Jericho sign. Any minute now, his dad’s police car would show up behind them in the rear-view mirror. Tyler would be in so much trouble. His dad would probably beat him so badly that he wouldn’t dream about running away ever again and he would forbid the barista from associating with Y/N ever again. But it didn’t matter because Y/N would hate him when he found out about Tyler’s lies and deceptions. The same old tricks. Looks like Hydes couldn’t be trusted no matter how many chances you gave them.

Tyler’s heart didn’t stop hammering until they drove past Burlington and towards New Jersey.

.

[new-berry]

A getting to know you meme? Quiz? Interview?

I’ve smooshed a few together. Mostly from memory so I might have mis remembered.

Sweet/salty/sour /spicy:

Not sour. Not spicy. I don’t mind food with flavour I just don’t want eating to be an endurance event.

Go to snack. Cheese and crackers If I ever say “I don’t like cheese” I have been kidnapped and it is a cry for help. Call the police.

Next celebration:

it’s been nearly a year since pixel the wonder dog came into our lives so we are having an anniversary party this weekend.

Favourite holiday:

I like Christmas. It’s sunny and since I often cook it I get all my favourite foods. If I’m catering I do not give a fuck.

Last year we had lasagne and a roast meal because I wanted lasagne but not to eat it for a week.

The year before that we had all different kinds of meat balls (including spicy Asian for my sister in law that were very spicy and Asian inspired and not made from an Asian person. ) we had turkey and pork and falafels purely because it is what I wanted.

My dad had his nose out of a joint a bit but genuinely that makes it more fun.

Christmas is great. We have a sensible tree and a reasonable number of gifts and a week off work.

Favourite movie: I love Fantasia. I am a bad movie watcher. I have to go to the cinema or I will think of something else to do.

Favourite sport: I do equally love netball, football, pro wrestling and ice hockey.

Last thing you cooked:

We had minestrone soup (homemade!) garlic bread (shop made) with bacon (home… fried?) . And I made cupcakes because the oven was on. I made 11 cupcakes. There are four cupcakes left. On the one hand aww they were good! On the other hand I have yet to have one and there are only four people in the house.

Last thing you wore. Jeans and a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt. (It’s pink! ) right now I have pj’s on. They have spoons and tiny love hearts on them I don’t know why. They are from one of those fly by night shops at the mall and are soooooo soft. Lucky they don’t have random swear words.

(An aside I don’t remember reading Winnie the Pooh as a kid but my partner insisted we needed a copy when we had kids so I’ve read it but as an adult. I like it. I approve.)

Last song listened to: And she was (talking heads) it’s my Iris Law song. I listen to it when I’m writing glitter because it puts me in the right head space for that fic. Then I just let Apple pick similar music and every three or four songs I listen to And she was again.

Dumb thing that makes me laugh. When writing is just like not happening I’ll play it a lot because I get annoyed look at my music list. When it’s going well it’s like“and she was” was six songs again and I have no recollection of what I was listening to. I’ll like look up blinking and release for some reason it playing like Seafret and I’ll have no idea how I got there.

Not that anyway asked but the Ivan /Thomas song is in fact Guns of Brixton. Gonna think it every time I write Ivan’s name anyway. The Clash and then Jimmy Cliff for my favourite versions. There are a surprisingly large number of covers. Arcade Fire excellent. Nouvelle Vague doesn’t do it for me.

Might call the fic “the money seems good”.

Star sign Aquarius. (Not adjusted) am I an Aquarius? It’s summer in January here :).

Favourite colour: pink with a side of purple. But really pink.

Tea /coffee. Yea please. Too much of it in lieu of water. I have my tea stewed and cold or hot and too weak. I have coffee with fluffy milk. No sugar.

Quirk. Ummm I have trained myself out of saying “bless you” when people sneeze.

One thing you would change (about you) I am an extremely impatient driver. Sometime I pretend to be singing along with music and start chair dancing when I realise I have been non stop swearing and maybe people can see I’m me in their rear vision mirror. If you mean like a physical thing? I would like to be taller. Or to not need glasses.

One thing you’re proud of? I don’t look externally for validation. I’m happy. I love those things.

Next plans (these were the writing ones I just did a WIP so..)

Going to finish Ivan/Thomas, then either going to finish glitter or re do the one I started with Jude as not a demon making (maybe) Trent not a demon because I have a different Jude one and I don’t want to write him that much. Or getting to the point of ever again.

I want to finish the last part of tidal. Which is stubbornly half / a third done because I have not added words to it. Which seems vastly unfair.

The last thing I wrote lol if you could see me I’d be laughing. I literally wrote Virgil going down on Iris while Trent holds her up. It’s like a lot of athletic flexible rich people sex. You can wait for the fic. It would sound bizzare out of context.

Pondering /fic adjacent something like that: Having an Ivan/Thomas hmmmmm. Have a tricky moment I’m trying to navigate. And also trying to thinking I tag age gap? There are 22 years between them but Ivan is 28.

What won’t you write: hahahahahhahhaa. Friends I wrote royal family incest porn. I wrote Orlando Bloom with a little person as a birthday present. I have written non con domestic violence and I’m actually really pleased with Ivan/Thomas I think some of the lines are beautiful and it’s interesting and meaty and no one will read it lol.

And I don’t care! I love getting older. I’ll cater what I want to eat and if you don’t want it you can have potatoes with my dad.

Not even being aggressive! I also make excellent roast potatoes! Just I don’t have much time to write (she says writing a bloody essay here) so I have to write what grabs me.

“What do you want, Thomas?” Ivan asks. The air con is blasting in the car but the sun still forcing itself on them. A dazzle off the outward facing windows, a raw flinch every few metres.

What is something no one else will notice but it’s important to you. I can’t remember exactly how this was phrased! I have written coach/player fic before and normally I make a point of mentioning that power imbalance by having the player refer to them as the boss or the gaffer or the mister. But in this Ivan always calls Thomas by his name.

Share a recently enjoyed fic: oh I have so many tabs open. I caught up. Nearly.

Trent is a vampire.

Joe Willock /Alex Isak. The wanting man. The wanting gets you.

[ladykailitha]

If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 17

Allison isn’t in this one much, and next chapter we say goodbye to her because she was starting to take up the narrative space that was meant for Eddie. And while I’ll miss her as much as everyone else, it is a Steve/Eddie fic and not Steve+Allison fic. Maybe after this is done, I’ll do a little one-shot with featuring her.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

***

Steve was worried. Yes, yes, he was aware that was normal. But this was introducing his kids to his mom. He didn’t know if he should introduce them in batches or all at once.

Dustin took the decision out of his hands when he decided to show up at Eddie’s unannounced when his mom was there.

Eddie, Robin, Wayne, Allison and Steve had their heads over the real estate section of the newspaper.

Allison pointed to one. “This one is in Loch Nora. Four bedroom, three and half bath with an Olympic style pool.”

“What the hell is a half a bath?” Robin asked as she leaned over Allison’s shoulder.

There was a knock on the door and Eddie went to answer it while Allison explained what it was.

Dustin smiled up at him. “You know it’s great having you and Wayne in the neighborhood. It makes it easier to check up on you and Steve.”

Eddie sighed. “We’re busy, what do you want?”

Dustin was about to say when he heard Robin laugh. “Robin’s here, too?” Then he just barreled past Eddie to beeline straight for the kitchen.

He stopped short and cocked his head. “And who the hell are you?”

“Language!” Steve barked. “And you don’t get to talk to guests in someone else’s house like that.”

Eddie came up behind Dustin and knocked off his hat. “Yeah, butthead. She’s a guest in my house, you treat her with respect.”

“Come on, Eddie,” Dustin whined as he gathered his hat back up and put it on his head. “I was just surprised is all.”

Steve grinned. “Mom, this is Dustin Henderson. He’s the one I was telling you about that Eddie and I co-parent.”

Dustin’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Mom?!”

“Dusty this is my mom, Allison Harrington,” Steve continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

Allison smiled. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Steven has told me all about you. Did you really build a radio tower all by yourself?”

Dustin’s face lit up and he started talking a mile a minute. Allison seemed to take it all in stride as she nodded along and asked questions at the appropriate times.

After he was done explaining he turned to Steve. “Are you sure she’s your mother? But she is super smart.”

Eddie knocked his hat off again. “Behave.”

Allison also frowned. “As a wise man once said, if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree it will think itself stupid. My Steven has different strengths. And let’s not forget that the original NASA astronauts weren’t scientists and scholars but test pilots. Meathead jocks with an adrenaline addiction and little regard for their own safety.”

Dustin blinked. “Oh. That does sound like Steve.” He bent to pick his hat up again and adjusted it so it wouldn’t get knocked off as easily.

“What do you want, Genius Child?” Robin asked. “You came over for a reason. What was it?”

Dustin looked down at his feet and mumbled. “I haven’t got to spend much time with Steve since he moved out of his parents’ house...”

Steve’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, bud. Come here.”

Dustin shuffled over to him and let Steve wrap his arms around him. He put his head on Steve’s chest and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” Steve asked. “For wanting to hang out with me? Don’t be. I’ve just been super busy with work and volunteering and trying to find a place to live...and you’ve been in school. So it was just a matter of us missing each other, okay?”

Dustin nodded.

Allison cleared her throat. “Why don’t Robin and I scope out the place in Loch Nora and meet back here in a couple of hours? That way Dustin can hang out with Eddie and Steven. And Robin and I will come back let you know if it’s worth looking at? How does that sound?”

Steve pulled away from Dustin to look at him. “That sound good, bud?”

Dustin nodded.

Allison gathered up the newspaper and her keys, Robin following behind as they walked to the door. They said goodbye to everyone.

Wayne looked up at the clock. “Looks like it’s about time for me to get ready for work. You boys take care, all right?”

Eddie, Dustin and Steve all nodded.

“So what did you want to do, butthead?” Eddie asked, his hands on his lower back.

Dustin pulled off his backpack with a smile. “So I was thinking that we could build Steve a D&D character.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You know I’m not going to play, so why make me a character?”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Not like that. You as a D&D character. I figured with you and Eddie helping I could show you how badass your are.”

Steve frowned. “You think I’m badass?”

“Of course!” Dustin said. “And don’t think I hadn’t noticed that the clothes you’ve been wearing isn’t your normal style.”

Eddie scoffed. “Only after I told you.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Yes, and after you brought up, I began to notice it myself.”

Steve frowned at both of them. “I wear my regular clothes.”

Eddie wagged his finger back and forth and tsked. “Not true, my Stevie. The outfits you’ve worn lately have been longer in the sleeve and always collared. You haven’t worn a sweater or t-shirt since Vecna.”

“And you always wear an undershirt,” Dustin said. “Something you would only do if the shirt you were wearing was loose, like your Scoops Ahoy uniform.”

Steve gulped.

“Even when we went to Indy, you seemed to melt into the background,” Eddie said. “Something that I know isn’t you.”

Steve looked at the ground and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“I noticed, big boy,” Eddie said. “It’s bothering you, isn’t it? The road rash? It hurts?”

Steve nodded. “My mom got mad at the doctor for not giving me something for the itch at the very least. But by that point it was already starting to flake off. It’ll scar because they didn’t do anything about it.” He sighed. “I–I know I shouldn’t care. They’re proof I survived, but...” his voice cracked.

“What are you afraid of?” Dustin sneered. “That your good looks are gone now?”

When Steve didn’t say anything Eddie thumped Dustin on the head.

“Ow!” he protested. “What was that for?”

“That’s exactly what the problem is, you dumbass,” Eddie said. “And that’s what I was trying to indicate with his sudden change of style.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Dustin said. “He’s been a badass for years. He doesn’t need his good looks when he’s got a nail bat. That’s why I wanted to make the D&D character to show him is strengths. So he can see on paper how cool he is.”

Steve and Eddie looked at each other in amazement.

“Oh,” Steve said softly.

“I wasn’t trying to be an ass,” Dustin whined. “I just don’t get why it upset him so much.”

“Because I know my reputation, okay,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Dumb Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. A pretty face with the charm to match. King Steve the Jock, who’s toned and hot. Good looks and an empty head. Great to go to for beauty and dating advice, but not much else. I know! Okay?”

Dustin opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“It’s not like you kids do anything to dispel that image,” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down. “Because when I ask questions no one tells me that I’m an adult and shouldn’t have to be told everything.” He raised an eyebrow at Dustin.

Dustin’s jaw dropped. “Oh shit.”

“I appreciate you wanting to show Steve his strengths in a very tangible way, I do,” Eddie said. “But if you really want Steve to feel better about himself, try starting with dialing back on the insults.”

Eddie pushed his fingers into his eye as tamped down on his rising temper. “That was something I didn’t understand. I was talking to Steve telling him how much everyone talked him up. Lucas, you, and even Mike. All ranted and raved about how awesome Steve was. But he didn’t believe me!” Steve looked up and bit his bottom lip, fighting back the tears.

Eddie straightened up and walked toward Dustin, putting himself between Steve and him. “But the second I saw you kids with Steve, I got it. And none of the older siblings get the absolute shit Steve does. Not even Lucas and he’s got Erica as a younger sister.”

Dustin stared up at Eddie, tearing up. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad. I’m sorry, Steve.”

“We can do the character sheet if you want,” Steve said, “but yeah, what he said.” He pointed to Eddie. “You and I give each other shit as brothers but seriously Eddie and I couldn’t figure out why you wanted to hang out with us when all you talked about was how cool the other guy was.”

Dustin shuffled his feet and blushed. “I wanted you guys to be friends at the very least. I thought if I kept saying how awesome you guys were that you’d want to meet. It never occurred to me that you might get jealous of each other.”

Eddie tilted his head forward and the side. “Uh, dude...I know the rest of that was important and very sweet, but what did you mean by ‘at the very least’?”

Dustin just continued to look at his feet, scuffing the kitchen tile with the side of his sneaker.

“Dusty?” Steve asked. “You can tell us, we won’t be mad. I promise.” He looked over at Eddie who nodded.

“No judgment, bud,” Eddie agreed. “But you’ve got to tell us.”

Dustin let out a dramatic sigh. “I kept trying to set Robin and Steve up, but they kept saying that they were incompatible and just strictly Platonic with a capital P.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve who half shrugged. “It is what it is.”  

“So, anyways,” Dustin continued. “I figured maybe it was because Steve was secretly gay and that’s why he kept striking out with girls. And I knew Eddie was so...”

Eddie doubled over with laughter as Steve placed his hands on his hips and looked up the ceiling, pursing his lips and trying not to laugh, too.

“You were trying to set us up?” Eddie asked between gasps of laughter.

“It only sounds stupid when you say it like that,” Dustin grumbled.

Eddie and Steve shared a glance.

“Should we tell him?” Steve asked.

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t know, he does already have an over-inflated ego as it is. This might tip it over into epic mode.”

Steve tapped his lips. “That’s certainly true. But he’ll find out eventually and he’ll be upset we didn’t tell him when we had the chance.”

Eddie stopped giggling and sighed. “That’s certainly true. And for all his faults, we do love the little butthead.”

“That we do,” Steve said solemnly.

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?” Dustin asked, his head swimming with the possibilities of what they could be talking about.

Eddie grinned and walked over to Steve. Steve blushed as he realized what he was going to do.

Eddie wrapped one arm around Steve, the other hand reaching up to cup his cheek fondly. Then he pressed their lips together in a slow, searing, beautiful kiss.

Dustin began jumping up and down squealing with barely contained joy. “Oh my god! This is awesome!”

Steve broke away from the kiss and Dustin could see that he was completely red.

“How long?” he asked excitedly.

Steve buried his head in Eddie’s shoulder to hide his rising embarrassment.

Eddie licked his lips. “Since Indy.”

“Steve, you smooth motherfucker,” Dustin cooed. “Did you take him to the concert to woo Eddie?”

When Eddie just laughed and Steve buried his head further into Eddie’s neck, Dustin gasped.

He playfully pushed at Steve. “You could have said, asshole! I wouldn’t have pushed so hard to do something nice for Eddie, too. I would have done my own thing, dumbass.”

Steve lifted his head up and blinked at Dustin. “Really?”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Yes!” He threw his arms in the air. “Of course I would have. Plus, now that I know that you like Eddie back, I wouldn’t have tried to get you to give back the vest because it would be a really shit thing to do as if Eddie gave it to you, it would have been a declaration of his feelings for you.”

Eddie blinked at Dustin whose mouth had been running at a mile a minute. Steve on the other hand blushed deep.

“It’s a good thing I talked to Jeff and got skinny on that before I did something that stupid,” Steve acknowledged. “So I made him one to give back to him.”

Dustin giggled again and started hopping up and down.

“Dude!” Steve said, hands on his hips. “You’re going re-injure your ankle if you keep that up.”

“I don’t care!” Dustin squealed. “This is so freaking awesome. Can I see it? The vest I mean. You don’t have to because it’s personal, but yeah...”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah you can see it.” He went to go grab it.

Dustin immediately threw his arms around Steve. “This is so amazing. I’m so happy that you guys are a couple. And I completely understand you not telling me. Shit must be so scary for you guys.”

Steve nodded and hugged Dustin back.

“So do a lot of people know?” he asked, shyly. But Steve heard the real question of ‘Am I the last to know?’

Steve shook his head. “Wayne was the first to know.”

Dustin took a step back. “Makes sense.”

“Then Robin,” Steve continued.

“Best friend privileges,” Dustin agreed. “Well best friend your age anyway.”

Steve ruffled his hair. “Absolutely. I don’t have a secret handshake with just anyone.”

“You better not!” Dustin said mock seriously.

“Um...” Steve said. “Jeff was the next to know.”

Dustin nodded again. “You mentioned you talked to him about the battle vest, make sense that he understand the meaning behind, too.”

“Nancy...” Steve said with a grimace.

Dustin exploded. “What?!”

“She figured it out on her own,” Steve said. “They don’t call her Nancy Drew for nothing, after all. Plus, I’ll admit to panicking the day we went to Indy.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Which meant Robin was panicking.”

“Yep,” Steve said. “So we called her in to help make sure I didn’t forget anything.”

“So far so good,” Dustin admitted. “Anyone else?”

“Just one,” Steve said, he licked his lips and looked down at the floor.

“Who?” Dustin asked, frowning a little.

“Will,” Eddie said from the doorway.

Dustin turned to see Eddie in the vest, leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

Dustin’s brain was warring between the information that Will knew before he did and how metal Eddie’s new vest looked. His lizard brain went for the shiny.

“That looks so cool!” he shrieked.

Eddie walked into the kitchen and did a slow turn to show off the whole vest.

“A Corroded Coffin t-shirt?” Dustin cried. “That’s freaking awesome! And Steve did all of it?”

“Yup,” Steve said, grateful that Dustin focused on the vest and not why Will knew before him. He didn’t out Robin and he sure the hell wasn’t going to out Will, either. “Jeff, Gareth, and Brian all showed me the different pins and patches all meant. And then showed me how to sew them on.”

“Brian likes you better now,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll bet he does. With all the swag you brought home. I bet he wishes he was nicer to me before we left so I could get Ozzy’s signature for him.”

“Let’s get making up that character sheet,” Eddie said, “shall we?”

Dustin lit up again and his attention was taken off the vest and Will. Both Eddie and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Part 18  Part 19  Part 20

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[abbatoirablaze]

Behind Closed Doors, Chapter 11

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: implied smut/teasing.

“So tell us, who is the real Sebastian Stan?” the writer asked, posing the question while Sebastian simply smiled at him, “we know very little about the personal life, you know, our readers want to know who the man behind the television show is.”

Sebastian chuckled and crossed one leg over the other, “well that’s on purpose Aaron.  I don’t let anyone into my personal life, because it’s personal.”

“Our readers are curious,” the writer pointed out once more, “you’ve done roles in Gossip Girl, Kings, and now Once Upon a Time.  You’re becoming a household name.”

“Well, I’m sure that you know by now, that I don’t really like to talk about me or my life outside of my roles, and maybe that’s why I’m becoming so popular.  But, I-“

“We know that you have a twin brother who’s not in the spotlight,” the writer pointed out once more, cutting him off, “we know that your assistant is dating him, and it looks like she’s got quite an intimate relationship going on with him.  Paparazzi have caught photos of the two of them when he comes to visit set or in New York City.  He’s obviously growing his family.  Do-“

“My assistant’s personal life is none of my business,” he shrugged, cutting the writer off without a second thought, “yes, she and my brother are having another child, but that hasn’t distracted her from her duties in making sure that my schedule is properly maintained.  As you’ve pointed out, I’m becoming a household name with all of the shows that I’m in.  So maybe we focus on that.”

“And there’s nothing more than-“

“My assistant’s personal life is not any of my business,” he repeated, cutting him off once more with a stern look, “look, I’ll be honest, when I decided to pursue acting, my brother and I agreed that I wouldn’t drag him into this.  I know that sometimes the media likes to chase after a celebrity’s extended family when they don’t get the stories they want from the person of interest, but I really need to draw the line here.  His wife happens to be experienced in-“

“Wife?”

“Sebastian…”

He frowned, knowing that he’d slipped up.  He gave you a sad look and bit his lip.  The writer’s gaze turned to the engagement ring that you were wearing on your finger.

“People are starting to become more suspicious…”

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” his manager asked, “you and your fiancé are always together.  After she gave birth to Jack, you two went without seeing one another for almost two months, and I haven’t seen you apart since then other than to pick up the kids from your mom.  And now she’s pregnant…again.  So-“

“Jennifer…” you gasped, the thought coming to your head in an instant.

Sebastian’s brow furrowed as he looked at you, “What about her?”

“She let it slip to me the other day that she’s in the closet, but that if she comes out then it might potentially damage her career…” you admitted, “I know that a lot of times celebs will get into a PR relationship if both of them are single or have been single for a while, whether it’s to promote a show, or just to get nosy writers off their backs.  What if you and her pretended to be engaged?  It could free questions about her life up, and allow us to keep on living the way we want to.  People wouldn’t even question my life anymore or our relationship if they saw you with another woman.  And if the two of you pretended to be engaged…everyone would eat that up.  They don’t know much about you and Jennifer…but that-”

Sebastian’s manager put her hand on her chin, “it might work.  Let me get in contact with her people and we’ll have something drawn up.”

“Look, what you should be talking about is Sebastian and his engagement,” you smiled, nudging your fiancé, “not me and my husband’s child.  We’re nobodies.”

The writer lit up, “engagement?”

Sebastian gave you a practiced look and you bit back your smile even more, “Yes.  He’s too private to admit it, but he’s been seeing one of his co-stars since the two of them had their screen test to check out the chemistry they would have.  Needless to say, they are a perfect match.  On and off screen.  Bastian and I were just gushing over how we can’t wait for their wedding when he flew up here last weekend.”

“A co-star?” the writer repeated, “you’re engaged?  To who?”

“Jennifer Morrison,” Sebastian admitted, pretending to breath an annoyed sigh at you before turning his attention back to the writer, “the actress playing Emma.”

“But a year prior there was an interview by the writer for-“

“I know, I know…she had said that I was gay, but it was because she’d asked me out and I’d turned her down,” he chuckled, “what’s the saying.  Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?”

“So, the writer slandered you…and you just let it happen?” he asked curiously.

“Look, like I’ve said, I’m a very personal person,” he shrugged, “my family knows the truth, and my girlfriend knew the truth, at the time.  None of the words that writer wrote really mattered.  And it got a lot of people off of my back.  They left my relationship alone, because they wanted to give me some space.  They thought this woman had outed me.”

“So, you just went along with it.”

He shrugged, “it had nothing to do with my work, so I didn’t see how it was relevant.”

“Tell me more about your relationship with your co-star, Jennifer Morrison,” he grinned, biting into the piece of information like he was getting the story of the century, “how did the two of you end up engaged and working together?”

“Well, like my sister-in-law and assistant informed you,” he grinned, going along with it, “it was for the screen test where I was auditioning for the role of the Mad Hatter…”

“Oh my god, that worked beautifully!” You smiled at Jennifer as she wrapper her arms around you, “thank you so much (Y/N).”

“Hey, it worked for Sebastian and myself too,” you pointed out, “it frees up a lot of time for the two of us, and they’ll be looking for the two of you now instead of wondering if I’m sleeping with Seb and Bastian.”

She laughed, “you don’t understand how happy my girlfriend is now that the paparazzi have stopped harassing her.  She’s a kindergarten teacher.  Her boss was worried that they were going to have to let her go because those photo hounds were showing up at her work and taking pictures of her with the kids.”

“Well, now they’ll be trying to get photos of you with Sebastian…”

“This guy?” she laughed, “They won’t get anything juicy I’ll tell you that much…”

“What, not your type?” you teased.

She messed with his hair and shook her head, “not in the slightest.  But you know, if you ever get tired of him…”

“Hey!”

“What, I’m just telling your gorgeous, significant other that she has options, Stan.”

He pouted, “she’s my only one.”

“Aww, honey…just in case you were wondering, you’re my type though,” you smiled as you walked up to him and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips, “my perfect man.”

He smiled happily, “you know…this perfect man was thinking…about his dream woman…”

“Okay guys,” Jennifer laughed, “saved the PG 13 stuff for when I leave.”

“Oh, it’s going straight past PG 13,” Sebastian teased as he swept you up into his arms, “my mom flew up and she’s watching the kids for a few days.  It’s about to go from G to X really quick.”

“I want to be like you two when I grow up and get married!” she laughed, shaking her head as she waved the two of you off. 

Sebastian braced his forehead against yours and you sighed happily, looking into his pale blue eyes, “I love you, Sebastian Stan.”

“And I love you Mrs. almost (Y/N) Stan…” he growled huskily.

You bit your lip and looked over his shoulder to make sure that Jen had truly left the apartment that you and he had rented while he was shooting, “so, Mr. Stan…it appears that we have the whole place to ourselves…”

“Mmmm, that we do…”

“What do you suggest we do with all this free time?”

“Well, if you weren’t already pregnant, I’d say give me a shot at making baby number four,” he smirked, “but since you are…I guess we could start getting some early practice in for baby number five.”

You squealed as he put you down and playfully grabbed your ass.

“Sebastian Stan.”

“Can you blame me?” he smirked, “I’m the luckiest man in the world…living out all my fantasies with my dream girl…”

“Speaking of fantasies…” you teased, biting your bottom lip, “you know how you got a new costume the other day for the scenes you’re shooting next week.

“Yeah…”

“Well, one of the girls in costuming made me something…something that I think the Mad Hatter would like very much.” You giggled, sauntering towards the bedroom, “that is…if he can catch me.”

You giggled as you turned, running towards the bedroom, behind you your fiancé’s footsteps echoed.

Chapter 12

[agirlwithbigdreamsforher]

LIKE A VIRGIN

THE NANNY: ONE SHOT

LIKE A VIRGIN

Pairing: Andy Barber x Annie Johnson (OFC)

Summary: After her miscarriage, Annie is ready to be intimate with her husband again.

Warnings: Fluff, sex, Andy being a sweetheart (yeap that is a warning)

A/N:  none.

Word count: 2021

Disclaimer: I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, used, translated nor reposted anywhere else but here on this blog. Do not steal what you didn’t work for. Minors and ageless blank blogs don’t interact with me or my works. Reblogs and likes are always welcome. Thank you for reading this work of fiction.

GIFS not mine, you can find the credits in each gif :)

                                     ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

It was Thursday morning, Thanksgiving day. Annie and Andy got up early to start with the dinner preparations. His brother and his family were coming to visit them and spend time together as a family. Andy insisted in Tom’s family to stay with them for the weekend but Tom opted for booking a room in an hotel arguing they were still in the honeymoon stage and didn’t want to hear them having sex. Tom knew about what happened to his little sister, but he didn’t know Annie and Andy hadn’t slept together since her miscarriage. Andy was very supporting of her and never pushed her to anything pass cuddling and kissing before bed.

Tom, Martha and little Denisse, who was now two years old, arrived at noon to Newton, and after leaving their bags in the hotel they headed to the Barber’s house. As soon as they got in, Martha went to help Annie in the kitchen, while the guys took care of the kids and watch the football match on TV.

It wasn’t until almost 6 o’clock when they finally sat and had dinner.

“I think it’s time for us to say what we are thankful for.” Martha said, “I am thankful for being all of us together having dinner as a family. I know I already told you this the day of the wedding Andy but we are so happy you are part of this family.”

“I am happy too, thank you Martha.” Andy said smiling a bit of blush on his cheeks. “Can I go next?” Martha nodded as she drank from her glass of wine.

“I am thankful for this dinner, you girls nailed it. I haven’t had a proper Thanksgiving dinner since my mom passed away.” Annie grabbed his hand when he said that and rubber her thumb on his knuckles, “I am thankful for having you as a wife, I love you.” Annie mutter an I love you back, “And I’m thankful because Dr. Greene already discharged Jake.”

“Yeah! I’m big boy now!” he said lifting his little plastic cup full of orange juice.

“And because his kindergarten teacher told us he is a very smart boy and right now he is being top of his class.” Annie added and everybody clapped.

“Stop! Stop!” Jake said waving his small hand and everyone stopped, “Why you stop?” Everyone laughed.

“Happy thanksgiving everybody.” Tom said lifting the bottle of beer.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” Everyone said, even little Denisse babbled something along the rest.

It was close around 11 p.m. when Tom and his family went back to the hotel. Jake was out on the couch by 9, he made all the effort to stay awake with the adults but eventually he fell asleep next to his cousin. Andy was putting away the leftovers on the fridge, when Annie walked into the kitchen.

“Baby, can you carry Jake to his room? I’m exhausted.”

“Sure, honey. I’ll meet you upstairs.”

Annie was finishing her skincare routine in the bathroom when Andy walked into the room and got into the closet to change his clothes.

“I’m glad your brother could came,” Andy said from inside the closet as he put on some black sweats.

“Yeah, me too.” Andy could hear her now in the room along with the cold November wind hitting the window. He put on a gray shirt and walked out of the closet.

“Maybe tomorrow we could…” Andy stopped on his tracks when he saw his lovely wife wearing a black satin sleep cami with black lace on the neck line. He swallowed hard. “That’s… not covering much for tonight’s weather.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“What? No, it’s not that, you look beautiful honey, as always.” He walked to his side and climbed on the bed. He got closer to Annie and kissed her softly, he had kissed her multiple times in the past months but today it felt different, he felt the need in her kiss so he stopped. “Honey…”

“I think I’m ready, Andy.” Andy just stared at her, “I want to be with you.”

“Honey, you don’t have to do this, you know that right?” Annie nodded, “There’s no rush, and we can always wait more.”

“I just wanna see if I can do it.” Andy kept looking at her with worried eyes, “Please, I promise if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you to stop.”

“Alright.” Andy sighed, “We’ll go slowly, ok?” Annie nodded this time. “Lay down,” Annie made herself comfortable against her pillow, “And relax. If you don’t feel comfortable at any point tell me and we will stop. Ok?”

“Yes, Andy.”

“Safe word.”

“Red.”

It’s been two months, he will be lying if he said he wasn’t hard already just by seeing her in that cami on the bed.

Andy kissed her softly, his lips touching her gently exploring her like it was the first time they kissed. The kiss soon became heated, Annie opened her mouth to give access to Andy’s tongue. As soon as his tongue touched hers, she let out a small whimper and Andy stopped.

“Too much?”

“No, no. it feels good.”

He smiled and gave her a small peck. He kissed her cheek and went down to her neck and under her left ear, she whimpered again when he kissed her sweet spot. Andy’s hand went up her tight, stopping when he reached her hip.

“Are you not wearing anything underneath this?”

“Well, no. I thought, you know, easy access?” She blushed and darted her sight to the right. Andy grabbed her chin and looked at her in the eyes.

“You, little lady, are making really difficult for me not to go hard on you.”

“I’m sorry.” She said shyly.

“Honey, you are never this shy. You’re even shaking, what is it? You know we can stop, are you uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m just nervous. I feel like this was my first time. Is that wrong?”

“Of course not. I understand.”

“I don’t want to ruin it, Andy.”

“Honey,” Andy took her hand and guided her to his crotch, she could feel his hot and hard cock trough his sweatpants, “You are not ruin anything.” She swallowed, “Wanna continue?” she nodded quickly, “Words.”

“Yes, please.”

Andy grabbed the hem of her cami, and once the piece of clothing was out of her body he threw it across the room. Andy looked at his wife, her small rounded breast on full display, her puffy nipples begging for attention. He went to attack her neck again, his hand massaging one of her breast.

“Andy.” She moaned when Andy lips suck on her nipple as her hand touched the back of his head, caressing his hair.

Soon his kisses traveled down her tummy to her hips, Andy nibble at the skin where she had the scar of her surgery. He situated himself between her thighs, her pink and brown glistening folds were already a bit swollen, and he kissed her inner thighs so painfully slowly. He put her legs on his shoulders, his face got closer to her slit; his breath hitting her core; he kissed her clit, took it between his lips and sucked.

“God!”

Andy kept sucking on her clit, his tongue coming down to her hole and lap at it to grab her juices.

“Fuck, Andy!” Annie’s hand went to the back of his head and tangled her fingers on his hair. A loud moan came out of her went Andy put his middle finger inside her hitting in the right spot. Andy pumped his finger in and out without stop sucking on her clit. “Andy! OH GOD!”

Her climax hit making her arched her back. Andy stopped, moving his way up to meet her eyes, a dopy smile on her face. He kissed her, tasting her juices on his lips. Annie’s hand moved to the waistband of Andy’s sweats, pulling them slightly.

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight honey.” Andy too her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“Please, Andy.” She saw him with pleading eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Please.” Andy paused for a minute.

“Fuck!” He took his pants off, his cock sprung free against his abdomen, hard and ready to fuck her, the tip of his dick was red and leaking. He stroke it without breaking eye contact with her. “This what you want?”

“Yes, I want it, Andy; please!”

He passed his tip along his folds and clit, he was about to put it in when Annie put her hand on his chest.

“Wait!”

“Ok, I’m sorry. We can do this another day.”

“No, just, can you wear a condom? I just don’t…”

“Sure, honey.” Andy moved to his side and opened the drawer on his night stand, took out the silver wrapper, opened it and slid the condom over his shaft. He moved to be on top of her again, took his member in his hand and lined in her entrance.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Andy slid slowly into her, both moaning at the feeling, she felt warn and tight against him.

“Fuck, honey.” He kept sliding in, stopping when he was fully inside, “How can you…oh god, you’re squeezing me already.” Andy took a deep breath and started thinking on anything he could not to cum. “I don’t know if I will last long, honey.”

Andy looked at her, her eyes a bit glossy, she felt a sting inside, and she couldn’t explain how she wasn’t use to Andy’s size anymore. He kissed her cheeks, and caressed her nose with his.

“Move, please.”

Andy began moving into her slow a first, seeing how her face contort with each thrust, soon their moans, groans and pants filled the silence of the night.

“Oh god, Andy!”  His thrusting began to increase, the sound of skin to skin increasing. “Please, don’t stop!”

Andy slid out of her, took her by the waist and he sat on his haunches, he lined himself in her entrance and slam his cock into her.

“Fuck!” Annie screamed.

“Move baby girl, use me to cum.” Andy said in a deep voice.

She began to move up and down and made circles with her hips as she sank down his shaft.

“That’s it baby, come on. I can feel you’re close.” Andy took one of her nipples of her bouncing breast.

“Andy, Fuck!”

Andy felt her walls clasping against his cock, her clit rubbing on his skin with each trust. He put her against the bed, slamming hard in her pussy.

“Cum for me, baby.”

A loud moan left her mouth, her pussy clenching on Andy’s cock making him cum with her.

Andy stayed inside her, his face hidden in the crock of her neck, until he heard a small whimper. He lifted his weight off of her, a few tears streamed down her face.

“Oh god, did I hurt you?”

“No,” She sniffed, “It felt amazing!”

Andy sighed and giggled, “Don’t scare me like that.” He bend down and kissed her.

After a couple of minutes he slid out of her and she shivered at the loss of contact. Andy got out of bed, took off the condom, and tossed it in the bathroom bin. He came back, searched for his clothes and put on his sweatpants. “Honey, sit up for me, please.”

She did as she was told and Andy put his shirt on her. She then took her place on her side of the bed and Andy took his, they were looking at each other.

“I missed you.” She said with a sleepy voice, “I know you didn’t leave, but…”

“I understand,” he caressed her cheek, “I missed you too.” He leaned in and kissed her softly. “Want me to be the big spoon?”

“Yes, please!” She turned to the other side and Andy grabbed by the waist to pull her close. The exhaustion taking over Annie.

“Good night, honey.” He kissed her on the shoulder. “I love you.”

A low hum was all he got as a response, he smiled and hold his wife closer to him, closing his eyes and drifting off with the sound of wind outside.

[spicy-seaweed]

hmmm...

1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (already done), 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 (already done), 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25 (already done) for the ask game!

1- What’s your favorite color?

Neutral/natural shades, but mostly like honey brown or various green. Oooooooh or sunset orange.

2- Coffee or tea?

Tea! 😋

3- If you could live anywhere and cost wasn’t an issue, where would you live? 

Indiana

4- If you were a time of day, what time of day would you be?

I want to say I would be that window of time between 4 and maybe 7, where sun isn’t quite setting all the way, but afternoon is slowly starting to settle. A period where people getting off work are tired and just wanting their beds, traffic lines the streets, kids are just now maybe coming back from events, where dinners are being made, etc. That period where the exhaustion and anxiety are setting after long days, but people are still looking forward to just being home and letting the night unwind them.

6- What’s a song that you relate to?

okokok so I just found this one a few weeks ago, and it’s one of so many that I relate to, but since it’s the newest one I have it’s gonna be the one I put. Reminds me of some old ‘friends’ 🤣

7- What would you do if you found a 100 dollar bill on the sidewalk?

¿En esta economía? I’m pocketing that shit.

8- Do you have any piercings or tattoos? 

Vanilla (for now) but I’ve got my lobes pierced, and a single dot of a poke tattoo where I accidentally stabbed myself with a pencil. In the future I want more. A helix on the right ear, and like 5 tattoos. Right thigh, behind the right shoulder, left forearm, over the heart, and possibly right hip 🫶

9- What song would you want to get kissed to?

Mmmmmmmmmm so many to choose frommmm but I’ll go with this one

10- What song would you play at your funeral?

this one

11- When’s the last time you cried?

Happy cried? July 9th, 2023

Feeling better after a hard day cried? My guess is about 3 months ago

Everything sucks and I hate life and wish I didn’t wake up the next morning? Idk maybe like a month ago

Idk there’s just water??? Leaking from my eyes??? Yesterday

12- What do you want to be remembered for when you die?

I have thought about this. I want to be remembered as a lesson. To not let what’s happened to me happen to others. A lesson for those around me to not fuck up again. Because as shitty as it sounds, I know I’m not making it to old age. I’m gonna die before my time should come. I want it to be a reminder for people to do better

13- If you could commit any crime without consequence, which crime would you commit? Or would you not commit any crime at all?

First degree murder. But more realistically speaking, probably grand larceny.

14- Would you rather know the date or cause of your death?

I’d rather know the cause of death. Considering I’m kinda already certain what it’ll be

16- Are we really living or are we just slowly dying?

ughhhhhhhhh *psychology, philosophy, humanities flashbacks*

I’ll spare the long thought process behind this. But personally™️ I think that we are living beings granted thought and feeling, capable of will and choice, that ultimately end in the way that all living organisms eventually do. We are not JUST slowly dying, we are living until we get to that certain end point. Anything that comes after is a whole other thought entirely.

17- Do you like the taste of blood?

Would I actively seek the taste? No. Do I mind if it gets in my mouth? No. Do I prefer the taste to anything else? No. Do I automatically spit it out if I do taste some? No. I’m indifferent.

18- If you had to lose a body part, which one would you choose and why?

Left leg, below the knee down. …Idk why but I have thought of this many times.

19- Would you rather be frozen, burned, or drowned?

OKAY SO we know I have watched a lot of documentaries and shows. Read a lot of things. And honestly? I’d rather drown. If the end point is ultimately death, I’d rather die by drowning. To be burned is to feel it. Every bit of it. Clawing at skin but only to find it still burning beneath. To die of hypothermia is a WHOLE LIST of fuckery that sounds like an utter horror story. To drown I understand is also hell, but depending on the water, location, and temperature, I would rather drown.

20- If there's hell of some sort, do you think you’re going there?

I say that I will often as a joke, really, but I don’t think I will. That’s going into personal religious belief, so I won’t delve too deeply into this one, but no, I don’t think I’ll suffer eternal damnation.

21- How would you dispose of a body?

MMMMMMMM this one depends on context. Location, time, tools available, and the person. The way I wanna go in-depth may put me on a list.

At the root of the question, dismemberment. If the situation even calls for a proper disposal! Most of what I would focus on tbh is to just make a perfect crime scene. If it came to the need for disposal, dismemberment would be my go-to. Over-simplified version of what I’d do? Use various tools. Properly treat the body. Shred what I can of materials and tools from the scene of the prep. Take care with transportation. Mind appearance, changing enough so I wouldn’t be recognised. Secluded areas in the wee hours before dawn, I’m talking like 4-5 am. Different locations. Some simple. Some complex. Different outfits and uniforms pertaining to areas. Different days. Cat litter. Scattered time frame of disposal. Etc.

22- Would you kill someone you don’t know to save someone you love?

Yes

23- Would you rather be burned at the stake but die a saint beloved by all, or die peacefully but have nobody remember you?

Peacefully. I don’t want my passing image to be that of a saint. I want to die under the image of a real person who made a lot of real mistakes. If nobody past those immediately around me remembers me, that’s fine. At least then it feels more real.

24- Would you rather eat part of a human heart or a whole human eye?

Heart. I do not think I could handle the texture of an eye

[mirlvshft]

day 4 of reya singh’s 4-day mind reprogramming process! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚

day 4: today is the day you will shift. anchor this firmly in your mindset. as you go through your day and routine, consciously connect every action to shifting. drinking water, brushing your teeth, showering, watching tv, breathing, eating— associating literally every activity, no matter how mundane, to bringing you closer to shift. even negative experiences can be reframed as stepping stones toward this goal. let this relentless positive focus saturate your consciousness. this day takes you into your desired reality.

alright!! this is technically not day 4 as it would’ve been monday the 5th not today (tuesday 6th) so, excuse that, i’ll explain. anyway! before we get into this, i just want to state: no, i did not shift, but maybe got close. this attempt is similar to another. i will explain what happened and my overall thoughts about this process. long post!! (˘ŏ_ŏ)

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆what happened?⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

so to address the timeline, i did attempt to shift monday which is the official 4th day but right when it hit 12am for me since i’m in bed by then. i love “awake” methods, they’re all i usually do but i can only do them at night when i am left alone and nothing is bothering me. i’m busy during the day and there’s never a quiet moment.

i did everything as usual, i got myself ready for bed, buzzing with good energy and semi-controlled giddiness. i lay down, put my headphones on and i listen to reya’s guided meditation. i get into a nice deep calm state, i don’t feel my body too much and i’m very relaxed. i affirm and affirm, keep relaxed. i don’t feel any “symptoms” per se, maybe like a tingling sensation here and there but i barely notice (i know i don’t need to experience these). so this continues on and eventually i go in and out of consciousness. the whole time i doze off and come back, i hear the subliminal music in my ears and no cue i’m in my wr. i remember getting frustrated but not why, i wasn’t mad i wasn’t in my wr or anything i know that for sure. really strange, but i’m not thinking much of it. in summary, i fell asleep and nothing much happened.

that brings me to 12am today. i got ready for bed as usual and around 11:20pm (of yesterday) i’m finally in bed. i’m looking through notifs, apps, etc., then i decide to shift again. because why not? fuck it, let’s do it.

so after reviewing my script (and adding to it), i lay back with alunir’s guided meditation playing in my headphones. i’ve used it several times before. i relax immediately, etc etc etc., you know how it goes. again, not many “symptoms”, i barely notice the smaller ones like tingling. i get into a very very relaxed state, can’t feel my body much and i affirm and set my intentions as i hear what alunir says. like the last attempt, i doze off a little at first but then i’m fully awake. and soon i start smelling the faintest scents of rain and cologne (scripted this for my wr). i’m even calmer than last time this happened, got excited but i shut that shit down quick to focus. another cue i had in mind to know i’m in my wr is connor “waking” me up. he would gently wake me up not by talking but touch. (i’ve yet to post abt him, i will soon. he’s connor from a game called detroit become human. he’s like my assistant(?) in wr)

man i just remembered as i’m typing this up, i felt a shove to my arm/shoulder. it wasn’t aggressive but not so gentle, somewhere in the middle. i can’t tell if this was just a jerk my body did or something more for a split second. i don’t know what to define it as but i’m more sure it was just a jerk than anything else.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆overall thoughts⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

i think this is an amazing process. i believe it really helps lock down your belief in shifting as well as whatever you want to work on while using this. i felt pretty confident about my abilities to shift and it helped strengthen my positivity about shifting as a whole.

throughout all the exercises of this process, it helped strengthen so many parts of myself. reflecting on my journey thus far and what i hope to get out of one of many lives is so incredibly motivating and eye-opening. it gets you to really sit down and think about what you want and what you see for your overall life. this process really helps you see your dr(s) as a real place. not something you can only dream of but a real place where you can be. where everyone around you is real and have very real lives.

i definitely recommend others to try this process out. even if you don’t end up shifting, it can help strengthen your mindset and get you to think deeply about your dr(s). in turn, get you that much more closer to shifting!! ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

[underacalicosky]

20 Question Fic Writer Tag

Yayyy! Thanks for tagging me @grapenehifics 😁 And thanks to @ineffable-snowman for tagging me too! ❤️

How many works do you have on ao3?

I only have six Obikin fics on AO3, which isn’t a lot, but I’m hoping to write more! I’ve posted fics for a different fandom that I’m no longer active in, but that was a lifetime ago and I don’t monitor those fics anymore.

2.) What's your ao3 word count? 

AO3 says 107,086. I know that’s not a lot compared to some folks, but it’s more than I thought I’d get to when I started writing again a few months ago.

3.) What fandoms do you write for? 

Right now, only Prequels/Clone Wars Star Wars, and only Obikin because they’ve taken over my brain. And mainly modern AUs, but I have couple ideas that are in the Star Wars universe.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Cruel Summer (Intern AU) - 175

Edge of Greatness (Figure skating AU) - 132

The Next Model (Top Model AU) - 125

Heartbreak Prince (Same age HS AU) - 70

In Good Hands (Hairstylist AU) - 69

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I always respond to comments! I try to respond within a few days. But yes, I love comments. I’m grateful that someone would take the time to not only read my fics, but to also leave a note or an emoji or wall of text 😭 so I try to show my appreciation by responding. Sometimes I’ll get a comment that’s really touching and I’ll reread it when I’m having a bad day. I love when I get into little side convos or hearing about headcanons in the comments!

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I’m incapable of writing anything but a happy ending for Obikin. I want so badly for them to find peace and joy together, whether that’s through lots of cuddles and sex or a platonic life-long friendship.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them? 😁 I like to end my fics in a way where they’re at a good place, and afterward they run off and have more adventures and I might not know exactly what they’re up to, but I know they’re happy.

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Not since I’ve written for the SW and Obikin fandom. Everyone here has been wonderful and encouraging and kind of feral in the most amazing way. I can’t tell you how much I love love love the positive vibes.

It wasn’t always like that in my previous fandom and I eventually left. Although, it wasn’t really hate. I started getting comments about how I wasn’t incorporating certain extreme kinks (which I didn’t know how to write), sort of suggesting that what I wrote wasn’t interesting. And there were plenty of writers who did write those kinks so it was a little baffling. I’m a firm believer that everyone should be able to read or write whatever they like without judgment or shame, but it got to the point where my confidence took a huge hit and I wasn’t having fun anymore.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do write smut! Soft, fluffy, vanilla smut where they look at each other with hearts in their eyes. If my smut were a cake, it would be funfetti.

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No, but I like putting them modern AUs so maybe the Top Model fic is kind of a crossover?

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I didn’t realize this was a thing. How do I know if a fic has been stolen?

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple years after I left my previous fandom, someone reached out and asked if they could translate one of my fics into a different language. It was really heartwarming and humbling to hear that something I wrote resonated with someone enough to make them want to translate it and share it. I said yes, but I’m not sure I ever got the link to the translated version.

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I co-wrote a big bang with another author for my previous fandom. It was a lot of fun and someone made a playlist to go with our fic. We had similar writing styles, to the point that our betas got confused over who wrote which chapters.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Probably Obikin. Their dynamic is so intriguing to me. There’s endless possibilities. Plus, the authors in this fandom are so freaking talented and creative and that fuels my love for them.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don’t have too many WIP at the moment. I only have two that have actual words, the rest are ideas that haven’t solidified yet. But I plan to finish the ones I’ve started writing.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I’m terrible at self-assessments. I like to think that I can create a feeling of longing or pining. I love a slow burn, especially a friends to lovers type relationship, and that’s where I like to live with the things I write. There’s that phase where they’re both too afraid to tell the other how they feel. But they stare longingly and wonder if the other’s thinking of them too. And maybe there’s miscommunication or an ill-conceived reason for why they can’t be together that leads to some mild angst before they confess their love and fuck all gentle and sweet.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing anything that has a complex plot or interwoven side plots. I’m very linear and simplistic. I’m always so impressed when I read something and the plot has been intricately planned and the little details tie together in the end. These are truly talented writers. Like, you should be publishing novels and getting paid. If I had more time and brain space, I’d love to try planning something more complex someday.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I’m not against it, but I can barely post anything without typos in English so I wouldn’t trust myself to include dialogue in another language.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

X-files, Mulder/Scully. I didn’t post it to gossamer. I just had it on my computer and was too scared to show it to anyone.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

This is tough, and it’s going to be a long and rambly answer.

Definitely the fics I’ve written for Obikin are my favorites. And if I had to pick one of them, it would probably be Edge of Greatness, only because it was the first thing I posted to AO3 in about 12 years.

I started writing fics again a few months ago as a way to do something for myself because most of my life revolves around taking care of my family. I had the idea in my head for about a month before I finally dusted off my old 2008 Macbook and wrote the whole thing in about three weeks. It was such a freeing feeling to be writing again, but I still had that criticism in my head. At that time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to share it once I finished it, but I also was trying to challenge myself.

I took baby steps. I got a new AO3 account and sat on it for a week before I began uploading the first few chapters. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. My hands were shaking when I posted the first four chapters knowing that they would be out there in the world. I was convinced that no one would read them and I was okay with that because the goal I set for myself was to post and not care what other people thought. But the next morning I saw that I had kudos and comments and had a nice little cry. Some people, like @grapenehifics left comments in every chapter and I can’t put into words what that meant to me. So I’m not sure that it’s my best fic, but it holds special meaning to me and I’ll always love it for that reason.

I’m tagging anyone who writes fics and wants to share! I love reading these types of responses! ❤️

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {11}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

THIS CHAPTER IS NSFW, 18+ ONLY.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Warnings: language, s e x

NSFW. 18+.

…………..

Cassian

…………..

I hate late flights but it was all Nesta and I could book last minute. I’m already tired, due to lack of sleep, now that I’m back on the couch. After getting cockblocked by Eris last week, and seeing that intimacy isn’t as important to my wife as it apparently is to me, I decided that sleeping on the couch would be best.

She hasn’t seemed to mind.

Not once has she asked me to come back to bed. Although, she has stayed true to her word and has been working nonstop since we decided we’d be going on vacation. I haven’t been ignoring her completely. When we’re in the same room, we’ve indulged in that same small talk that we indulged in weeks ago. Then, things started to change and get better.

Now I don’t know what to think. I’m not sure where we are now.

I debated on calling our little getaway off, but being on the beach right now sounds good, therapeutic, so here we are. Even though there’s a wall back between us, we’re taking Gwyn’s advice and going to paradise for a few days. 

Once we make it past security and to our gate, Nesta’s already pulling out her laptop. I mumble that I’m going to find coffee and leave her there to work. I feel a little better, a little less grumpy, once I get caffeine in me. I even feel nice enough to bring Nesta a latte. 

The flight is three hours long, and I sleep for most of it. Surprisingly, the plane seat is just as comfortable as the couch.

Maybe we should get a new couch. 

I only wake up when we land, as the plane jolts once it makes contact with the tarmac. Nesta’s laptop is put away, although I think it’s because they ask you to when landing, not because she chose to. Either way, she gives me a little smile and nods out the window. “We made it.”

It’s hard to see anything because it’s already dark, but I know the airport is close to the ocean. I can see city lights through the window, but I’m too tired to try and brace myself for the nightlife of Adriata tonight. 

I yawn as we pull up to our gate and the seatbelt signs are turned off. “I think our hotel is pretty close to here.” 

It wasn’t what she was expecting me to respond with. Her smile falters, but she nods. “That’s good.” 

I’m not in the mood for the small talk right now. I don’t have patience for it. Swiping my phone out of my pocket, I see that it’s nearly midnight. I turn it off of airplane mode and a barrage of texts and emails come through. I ignore the texts from my employees until tomorrow and skim over my email, deciding the contents of it can wait until the sun rises, too.

I open the group chat between my brothers and I, sending off a short text letting them know we’d landed. Azriel replies almost immediately, telling us to have fun, while Rhys is all radio silence. Seeing as it’s almost two in the morning in Velaris, I’m not surprised.

It’s taking forever for the people ahead of us to disembark, so I open my text thread with just Az, not wanting to wake up a likely sleeping Rhys or worse — Feyre.

You’re up late, I text. Everything okay?

Again, his reply is almost instantaneous. It’s all good. Elain woke up from a dream craving butter crunch ice cream. I’m at my third grocery store looking for it.

Chuckling, I respond, You know she’ll be fast asleep by the time you get home.

Yeah, but her smile in the morning will make it worth it.

I hate the jealousy that shoots through me reading my brother’s words.

Gwyn is still the only person we’ve told about Nesta’s miscarriages. They have no idea how badly I want what they both have.

Still, I reply, Take care of your woman. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

I hit send as soon as we finally get moving, then we’re making our way to baggage claim. Half an hour later, with my bag tossed over my shoulder and wheeling Nesta’s suitcase behind me, we’re finding a cab to take us down to the beach, where our hotel is.

Nesta booked the flight, but I chose the hotel. With a weight room bigger than the one at my gym and walking distance to the shore, I didn’t even have to think twice about spending the ridiculous amount of money to book us a suite. 

Nesta doesn’t seem to mind either as we make our way into the lobby and she looks around, impressed. The thought occurs to me then that maybe I should’ve picked a shitty hotel. If she likes it too much, it will be that much more tempting to stay in our room and work as she overlooks the endless blue waters beyond our balcony.

Nonetheless, I check in and we make our way up to the ninth floor where our suite lies at the end of the hall. 

The room is big, clean, with a giant bathroom that has a jacuzzi and a little living room with a mini kitchen.

 The only issue is that the couch in the living room is nothing more than a loveseat, which means that it will be me and Nesta in the same bed, yet again.

At least it’s a king size. 

Apparently I’m staring disappointedly at the bed because Nesta asks, “Something wrong?”

Surely she knows. One look at her and I can tell she does. “Nope.”

I toss our bags on the loveseat and open mine up, finding my toothbrush and all my other toiletries before making my way to the bathroom and closing the door behind me.

I take longer in the bathroom than I usually would, but I also admit that I’m being a bit of a coward. I’m hoping that when I come out, Nesta will be in bed, already asleep, and I can curl up on the uncomfortable loveseat for what I can only imagine will be one of the worst night’s sleep of my life. I want to skip the fight that I feel is inevitable. I’m too tired to fight, too tired to explain to her why I can’t sleep in the bed with her.

But what I want doesn’t matter, because when I exit the bathroom, Nesta isn’t in bed. She isn’t even in the room.

The sliding door leading the balcony is open, sheer, white curtains fluttering in the warm breeze and I know that’s where I’ll find her.

She doesn’t notice me immediately, her eyes closed as she takes in the ocean air. Her hair hangs long and loose down her back, freed from the braid she usually wears it in, and she’s changed out of her leggings and t-shirt. I don’t recognize the pale, lace night gown she’s wearing.

But she looks absolutely ethereal standing in the moonlight.

I’m breathless.

Even when I’m pissed, frustrated with this woman, she has the power to take my breath away.

Which is why I’m still here, why I didn’t leave for good. I need that reminder as I step onto the balcony. 

Her eyes open as I lean against the railing next to her but she doesn’t look at me. For a moment, neither of us say a word, but then she says, “You can’t sleep on that couch.”

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore relax me. “I know.”

“Does that mean you’re okay sleeping with me tonight?” she asks, and her voice is quiet which is strange for Nesta. It’s strange to hear fear lacing her tone, even if it’s subtle. 

“I did debate on creating a pillow blockade between us,” I say, and I say it as a joke even though it’s something I considered while getting ready for bed. 

Nesta huffs a laugh but there’s hardly any humor in it. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Cassian—”

“It’s late,” I say, and finally look at her. She’s still looking at the water, but her body is relaxed as if she’s come to terms with the conversation we’re about to have. “We can do this tomorrow—”

“No, we can’t.” She turns toward me then and looks up. Her eyes are pleading. “I don’t want this vacation to start off on the wrong foot. This is supposed to be good for us and it can’t be good for us if we’re not communicating. You’re pissed.” I open my mouth, but she shakes her head before I can say anything. “And don’t say you’re not. I’m not stupid, Cassian. I messed up, and I’ve been pretending like I didn’t do anything wrong but I did. I know I did, and I feel foolish. The other night… I’ve been wanting you to touch me like that for so long. It wasn’t that I wanted you to stop, because I didn’t, but when I saw Eris was calling me, my stubborn, workaholic nature took over and I had to answer. If I hadn’t answered, it would have been all I was thinking about, instead of what we were doing. And that’s not an excuse, because I know I hurt you when I answered the damn phone, and you’re right. I shouldn’t have.”

You’re right. Those are not words that leave my wife’s mouth often. 

“But I meant what I said, what I promised you. This weekend is about us. I’m going to wake up every morning, respond to emails, mark a couple of little things off my checklist, and that’s it. And if you feel like I’m taking too long, then tell me. But I got a lot done in the last week, just so I can spend this time with you, uninterrupted. I want you to know that I’m all in, with you. You’re more important than my job, and if you’re feeling like you’re not, I need you to be vocal about it so I can be more aware.”

Last time I was vocal about it, she answered the phone anyways, but I don’t tell her that now. She’s trying. She’s communicating. She’s being honest. So, I nod. “It’s late,” I repeat, although more gentle than before. “Let’s get to bed so we can have a good day tomorrow.”

The fear in her eyes fades and she looks relieved as she takes my hand. I let her pull me inside, toward the bed, where we lay down together beneath the blankets. 

Nothing more is said as we drift off to sleep, but she lays her head against my chest and I hold on to her through the night.

…………..

Nesta

…………..

I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep since the last time I had Cass in bed with me, and the only reason I wake up now is because the newly awoken sun is streaming through the thin curtains and my husband’s cock is burying itself painfully into my backside. 

All night, he never let me go. My back is pressed up against his front, his arm slung lazily across my waist as he breathes steadily into the silence. I can feel his chest rise and fall against my back. It calms me.

I know that he’s sleeping better now than he has in days, too, and I don’t want to wake him so I stay perfectly still, even though I’m tempted, even if all I can think about is the feel of him up against me. 

All I’ve been able to think of since that night is how I could be so stupid. We’ve been making so much progress. We’ve both opened up and talked about things we didn’t want to. I’ve acknowledged that I work too much and that it’s not only one of my character flaws but the main reason I nearly lost my husband.

And the first opportunity I have to prove that he means more to me than any job ever will? I fuck it up.

For a moment, I let myself consider how that night could have ended if I didn’t answer the phone.

Likely with me bent over the kitchen counter, one of my knees propped up on one of the bar stools, as Cassian gripped my hips, pounding into me—

Cassian’s arm tightened around my waist as he shifted in his sleep and I tensed, not sure if he was awake. He murmured something, a sure sign that he was still dreaming, and settled into his pillows, not loosening his grip on me.

His thick erection, nestled into the cleft of my ass, was all I could think about. It made the throbbing between my legs all the more insistent and for a second I thought about touching myself.

What a hell of a way to wake my husband up on the first morning of our vacation.

But then I had a better idea.

I listened closely to the sound of his breathing, ensuring he was still well and truly asleep and then carefully turned over in his arms. It was a slow process, considering the hold he had on me, but after a minute, I found myself gazing into his sleeping face.

Even fast asleep, he’s ridiculously handsome, although that cocky tilt of his lips is gone when he’s out like this. I lay there for a minute, admiring his beauty, and then he stirs and I freeze. The hand that’s slung around me moves lower, his hand cupping my ass with a content sigh before he starts snoring, softly.

I force myself not to laugh, even if it’s adorable, until he shifts again and I can feel every inch of him perfectly against the thin fabric of my nightgown. Mother damn me, I want him inside of me. It takes everything within me not to grind against him, not to take control and give myself pleasure, but this wouldn’t be about me.

It would be about him. 

I reach up and brush his hair back with teasingly soft fingertips. His lips, in perfect calm, form the softest of smiles.

With my hands still tucked in close to me, I press my lips to the center of his chest. It's a soft kiss, my mouth meeting his warm, toned skin, but I let it linger. I let my tongue brush over his skin, and then I move my lips to a new spot and do the same. As I pepper his chest with lingering kisses, I run a hand up his abdomen. His body jumps a little beneath my touch, almost like it tickles, and his hand on my ass tightens. My leg is drawn up over him, and now that I can feel his erection against my throbbing clit, I can’t stop myself from rocking my hips against him, just to ease the torturous feeling, if only a little. Cassian groans quietly, and I know that he’s now awake, even though his eyes are still closed, when his hips rock back into me.

I used to wake him up like this all the time, and he would do the same to me. Waking one another with little, teasing kisses until it escalated into something far more. I miss waking up like this, with him, starting off my day in pure bliss, with a euphoric high. 

He breathes my name, and the second it falls from his tongue, I can’t control myself any longer. My mouth trails up the side of his neck until it finds that spot he loves, just beneath his jaw, just below his ear and sucks vigorously as my hand slides back down his hard abdomen. My fingers tease the waistband of his sweatpants, but he’s not having it. 

“Nesta,” he pleads, yet again, and I nip at his skin, causing him to moan quietly above his deep, heavy breaths. His hips can’t stay still, as if his cock has a mind of its own. But he shouldn’t have to chase it, shouldn’t have to be the one to guide pleasure. My hand slips into his sweats and I take him into my hand.

The second my fingers wrap around his length, he curses. 

I lean back, and his eyes are open, his lips parted. The look full of lust and love and need that he gives me makes me want to mount him right here and now, but this morning is about him. Instead, I pump him a few times, slowly, before pulling my hand out of his pants and just when he’s about to protest, I straddle his thighs and yank his sweats down until he’s free.

Everything about my husband is magnificent. His face, his hair, his body. And most definitely is cock.

Beautiful, and hard, and absolutely enormous. My mouth is watering as I look at him, at his body I’ve scarcely seen over the past year, at his cock, staring and already dripping precum and practically begging for me to touch it.

Gripping him at the base, I lean in, ready to swirl my tongue around the swollen head, just how I know drives him wild, and—

His hands grab my shoulders, stopping me. “Nesta, you don’t have to—”

“No, I don’t have to,” I agree, rubbing the head of his cock over my lips. “But I want to.”

He makes a choking sound, but doesn’t try to stop me any further.

After almost ten years together, I know his body as well as my own. I know what makes him go crazy and what will unleash him. I know every spot that tickles, what to do that will make him moan and groan and lose control. This morning, I’m pretending I don’t. I take my time exploring him, slowly dragging fingers up and down his length, over the ridge of the swollen head, teasing a vein that runs along the side.

Gazing up at him, I grip him tightly at the base and flick my tongue over the head once. As soon as my tongue glides over his skin, his hand is in my hair and he curses violently.

Our eyes are locked as I do it again, and his jaw ticks as he swallows harshly. The fingers in my hair tighten which makes me moan, a sound that drives my husband wild. I slowly work him, my mouth and hand working in tandem. It isn’t until his head is back on the pillow, his eyes closed, his breathing quick that I take the entirety of him into my mouth. 

That foul language of his greets me once more, and his filthy mouth does things to me that I have no control of. I keep still for a moment, my tongue running wild before I release him and repeat the motion, again and again, taking him into my mouth, a little quicker each time. His fingers are still tangled into my hair, gripping each strand hard enough to bring on a pleasant tinge of pain. I relish in it, in that pain, in this moment. I don’t even realize I’m touching myself until I’m moaning, the sound muffled as I take him in, as I cup his balls with my free hand and give them a squeeze. 

Unable to keep still any longer, Cassian’s hips began to writhe beneath me. With one quick buck, I have him fully in my mouth yet again, and I grab his ass to encourage him to repeat the motion.

His other hand joins the one in my hair, but this one smooths it back off my face, making sure he can see everything I’m doing. Gazing up at him, I can tell the second he notices my hand moving frantically, my own orgasm building quicker than I expected it. His eyes grow impossibly darker, fingers massaging my scalp before pulling on the strands of my hair again. “Are you close?”

I nod, loving the gravely tone of his voice, rough with sleep and lust. My mouth is too full to answer directly, so I bob my head in time with the fingers plunging in and out of my center.

Cassian tugs my hair, once again. “Let me watch you come.”

My entire body feels like it’s on fire as my toes curl, that sensation that I haven’t felt in so long starting to flow its way through my body. My mouth, my movements, become less fluid and Cassian tugs at my hair again, this time pulling my mouth free of his cock.

Dragging me up his body, his lips crash against mine as his fingers replace mine. I gasp at the feeling of his fingers sliding through my folds, unable to stop the moan as he circles my clit.

Reaching between us, I grip his cock, still slick and wet from my mouth and squeeze as I stroke him from base to tip.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, pumping his hips into my hand, fucking it like he had my mouth moments before. I’m just as desperate for release as he is. I’m grinding into his hand as he expertly works me, thumb circling my clit in time with the finger he has plunged inside me, knowing it’ll have me on the edge in a matter of seconds. He bites down on my neck and I moan. “So wet and so needy.”

And then he lowers his head to my breasts.

The blunt edge of his teeth on my nipple sends me falling into utter bliss. I cry out as my entire body tenses, my pussy clenching around his fingers.

Cassian groans low and then I can feel a warm wetness on my lower belly and my hand. Still lost in the orgasm crashing through me, I barely notice as Cassian curses softly, his voice laced with ecstasy.

Then his mouth is on mine again and he’s kissing me like I’m the air he needs to breathe, like a man who’s been starving being presented a feast.

My mind can’t form a single thought. All I can focus on are his hands around my waist, his mouth on mine, the hunger and desperate need radiating off of him, even though we’ve both found our releases. There’s something far deeper that just happened between us than helping one another orgasm and feel good. A wall has broken down, a barrier has crumbled that has been up for far too long. I feel lighter as he kisses me, as his tongue brushes mine, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

And when I break our kiss to meet his gaze, I know, without a doubt, that he feels it, too.