#the opening chapter of the fic is a bit of a doozy to write but it's fun

[twistedapple]

Kiss me more

As announced in an earlier post, I'm unleashing the smut chapter of my fic as a semi-stand alone. It's nicer in the bigger context of the fic of course, since the relationship is a build up, but if you're just here for the smut, well I hope you'll like it.

@kikisgate @fruitypies tagging you two since you asked for the full chapter, have fun with almost 6k of filth. @kiss-inferna you wanted to be tagged on Nuria-related content so here you go lol

Quick meta context: This exchange regarding Raphael's sexuality and how some people view it.

Quick story context: [SPOILER ALERT] in the previous chapter, Nuria infiltrates a private event and get her hands on her target. Raphael happens to be there for business, he knows what she's doing and finds it hot. They leave together, the following text is a turning point for what started as a professional relationship.

BGM over here. Full OC Playlist here.

THIS IS +18 EXTRA SPICY CONTENT, IF YOU READ THAT AS A MINOR DON'T ACT SHOCKED, I'M NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR CLICK, YOU WERE WARNED.

CW: orgasm denial, bondage, blood, alcohol, size difference...

The cambion already knew what her home looked like, but being directly inside was another matter. As he stepped in, the characteristic sillage of carnal roses and incense could be felt. It wasn’t the biggest place – by his standards, it was in fact quite small, however the apartment had a crucial detail tied to a cultural aspect inherent to the Calimshite: wealth itself wouldn’t be enough to display one’s social status, the way wealth would be used for comfort was the real deal, and Nuria’s apartment clearly showed her own status, despite being a woman. The striking element was the sheer amount of convenient magic items. A snap of her fingers and the whole place, bathed in pale moonlight, lit up with the warmth of multiple candles, which shone brighter than normal – of course they would, it seemed Nuria preferred quiet places and had secured a comfortable home in Quill Ward, the district of scribes. This ward had enjoyed special, secret magical wards for centuries – clever wards, really -, that prevented fires and illnesses from spreading, made candles shine brighter, and kept paper and parchment in pristine condition. However, they weren’t the only wards affecting Nuria’s home. Raphael could feel a faint but unmistakable trace – a security ward, maybe? She was careful and meticulous, after all, so it would be very much in character for her to protect her abode against unwanted intrusions with discreet wards.

A soft breeze passed through a slightly open window, and the fresh scent of jasmine filled the main room, adding its dewy scent to the already present feminine perfume. The entire place clearly wasn’t just luxurious by the presence of magical items; it was also tastefully arranged in the local fashion. Walls and tiled floors displayed stylised floral patterns, wooden furnitures had elegant carvings, richly ornate carpets partially covered the floors – which seemed to be Nuria’s preferred place, as low seats and thick cushions were organised to form a pleasant living area. Two short hallways led to other places, and Nuria kicked her shoes off by the entrance before going to the one on the left, dropping her mantle on one of the seats as she passed by.

-Shoes off inside, please.

Amused by the request said in a rather matter-of-fact tone, as if Nuria knew he’d followed through, Raphael did as requested and left his boots at the entrance in a snap of fingers before proceeding further. As she turned to check behind her, she held her hands up, coaxing him towards her with a cheeky smile as she guided him towards what quickly revealed itself to be the bedroom, which proved just as elegant as the rest of the apartment, with a delicate sahnisin – the classic latticework of Calimshan - at the large window. Under his feet, the wide carpet was soft and pleasantly thick. Nuria’s hands felt small and delicate, her fingers feeling even cooler against the heat of his own palms. This promised an interesting night.

-How straightforward of you to directly take me here.

-You didn’t have your fill of banter for the night? How greedy.

-A perfectly fine virtue, my dear. But allow me to indulge in it more.

Without any warning, Raphael snapped his fingers again, leaving Nuria in a state of delightful undress. She gasped, then took a scandalised look.

-I’ll have you know the striptease is part of the fun! At least you left the essentials – jewels and perfume...

As she shared her thoughts on Raphael’s decision, the genasi smiled brazenly and gently guided him towards the bed, having him sit in front of her. As soon as he took place on the bed, the cambion pulled her closer and started running his hands over her body, taking pleasure in finally being able to touch the slender waist and follow the pleasant curve of her hips and rear. Her dress, carefully draped to cover yet show everything, had been teasing him all evening and he had been more and more itching to get it off her back. She giggled under his touch and it made him want to press his face against her breasts, round and pert and oh-so-inviting for a mouth to run across them and leave a flushed mess. Nuria had other plans however, as she ran fingers down his cheek before reaching the chin and gently make him look at her – he could have been offended by the gesture had it been more commanding, but one of her more impressive skills was definitely to obtain results with a velvet glove, and even a devil like him could appreciate that.

-Oh you’re eager, aren’t you...

And there she was with that exceptional charm of her, leaning towards him, their noses brushing as their eyes met, honeyed brown facing grey-and-violet – her eyes truly were like a moody sky. His fingers teasingly played with the delicate golden chain decorating her waist in a sultry display. She really had been expecting something happen, hadn’t she?

-Would you be patient enough to let me handle your clothes?

It was more like a tease than a question proper, really. She was already playing with the buttons at his neck, undoing them slowly, one by one, while he felt her lips brush against his. Nothing had really happened, yet there was already a feeling of sin in the air and Raphael basked in the seductive inflection of her voice, the cool feeling of her skin against his palm, the temptation of her lips still glistening slightly from the murderous tint she’d worn during the evening. Until she’d aimed for her target, that is. The caress of her plump lips caused a pleasant shiver to run down his spine and the next thing he knew, he’d crashed his own against hers. He too wanted some of that assassin mouth and he was quick to run his tongue against her lower lip, as much to request entrance as to gather the remaining poison – it wouldn’t harm him anyway. Much to his delight, Nuria was prompt to react, deepening the kiss with a moan as he guided one of her legs on the bed, right against him, before allowing her to push him on the bed. When they broke the kiss, she left a smaller one at the corner of his lips and it was enough to feel warmth shooting to his loins as she straddled him, teasingly pressing against his hips.

-I’ll take that as a yes, then.

-How very generous of you to do that for me.

-What can I say, I enjoy being of service.

Now his doublet was unbuttoned and open, and he could feel her touch through the cotton of his shirt as she ran her fingers against the planes of his torso, taking the time to feel everything through the fabric while she kept an attentive eye on him. Clearly, the plan was to slowly uncover what would make him react and he couldn’t deny that she had a pleasant approach about it, teasing him with the movements of her hips against his, and yet having him wait. Again, she managed to walk that very fine line between pleasing and offending him, a wonderful display of subtlety that convinced him to lean into her care and enjoy the attention while she was at work on top of him.

With the same deliberate gestures, Nuria slowly unbuttoned his shirt, working her way down while running her hands over him, always at the limit between the fabric and his skin, maddeningly teasing. Raphael only sat back up to fully remove the doublet and the shirt, abandoning them on the floor and stealing sloppy kisses down her neck in the process, a hand reaching up to play with a breast before he felt her push him back down again, playfulness all over her face.

-Tu-tut. We’re not done yet.

As she spoke, she furthered her point by rolling her hips against him, feeling the forming bulge against her core.

-Quite bossy, aren’t we?

-And you’re enjoying every second of it so far.

-I’ve been having a fine night, I’m in an indulgent mood. But keep going, who am I to interrupt your fun?

She swatted at him, chuckling at his retort. It wasn’t her first time with someone like him, they’d act all high and mighty and in control most of the time, but would be inclined to give up on some of that control in private. All it took was the right words, the right gestures. They were her favourite, it was fun to have them turn to putty under her touch, lost in the pleasure she provided, and it was even funnier to keep it all secret and use that to keep them on their toes. Seeing the effect she had on this devil when she had barely started was exciting.

Switching to the next step, she reached back to his lips for a kiss followed by a trail down his throat and towards his chest. One of her hands would go first, the other being used for support, and then her lips would follow to warm up the cool trail of her fingers. Her mouth and fingers lingered on his nipples, eliciting a low moan from Raphael. Ever since they’d met, Nuria had found his voice treacherously pleasant, but that was music to her ears. Smiling in the trail of kisses she left on her way to his crotch, she took the time to appreciate the lean muscles beneath her hands and the way his copper skin contrasted with the golden of her fairer olive – he had the lined face and greying hair of a middle-aged man, yet he remained quite the sight, although considering what he was, she felt appreciative but not surprised. Being attractive was, after all, part of the deal for devils like him to better charm their clients.

The genasi slipped smoothly between his legs, her hands now running on his still clothed thighs before aiming for the bulge in-between, teasing with her knuckles and mouth as she started undoing his trousers to uncover the rest of him. Suddenly, she felt Raphael’s hips roll under her, then long fingers ran through her hair, tousling it as he held her so her mouth wouldn’t leave the bulge in his underwear. Impatient.

Raphael felt dark eyes on him, as she was giving him quite the look under her long lashes. Supporting himself on an elbow, he chuckled darkly as he ran his hand from her hair to her cheek, before settling his thumb on her lips as he forced her chin up.

-That sweet tongue of yours certainly knows how to keep someone waiting, dear.

A voice like velvet and a carefully crafted tone – alluring and threatening in equal parts -, as he pushed his thumb in her mouth. No resistance, she took the finger without hesitation and licked and sucked, looking at him directly with half-lidded eyes the whole time. When he released her from his grasp, she chuckled in turn and straightened back up, her hands back to caressing his inner thighs. She took a long look, before offering his a bright smile that illuminated her features in a deviously innocent way.

-I merely aim to serve... A little deal, maybe? Something nice, easy and simple. Let me finish there, then I’ll let you take the reins.

-You’ll let me? How generous of you.

-My house, my rules. You won’t regret it.

It was Raphael’s turn to chuckle again. The nerves of that woman, simply amazing. Yet she knew how to speak to him, and he was in too good of a mood to reject the offer. Besides, she clearly had an idea in the back of her head, and her proposal had made him curious.

-A fair argument, but you’ll have to hold your end of that bargain.

-Oh, don’t worry about that. Now, back down please, let me tend to you.

He felt a hand gently push on his torso, encouraging him to lean back before slipping over his body to settle at his hips. Both hands held his trousers and underwear and he followed through the soft pull by lifting his hips, allowing her to remove what was left of his clothes and make it join the rest somewhere on the floor. Then her weight disappeared from the bed as she reached for the closed compartment of her bedside table. He didn’t immediately see what she had retrieved from it, as she had taken it in a manner that purposefully concealed the object. He was quick to find out, however, when she sat next to him and cupped his cheek in her dainty hand while making a rather filthy request with the sweetest voice and an equally angelic smile.

-Would you kindly put your hands up, please?

Replying with a knowing smile and intense look of his own, Raphael couldn’t help yet another quip as he complied – they did have a little agreement, after all.

-Bold choice for a first time, I must say.

-Only because I trust you can take it in stride.

-But it’s not the only reason.

-Indeed it isn’t...

As they talked, Nuria slipped the bindings around the bedpost and bound his hands, finishing her reply with a firm tug to tighten them just enough. She was used to that exercise. Heat ran along Raphael’s spine at the thought, racing all the way to his hardened cock.

-You’ll get full use of your hands later, among other things. Just focus on yourself for now.

She slipped back between his legs, and he noticed too late that she had taken something else from the side table. However, he found himself momentarily distracted when she pushed with her thigh to hook his left leg over hers, giving herself better access and making him need her touch. When her hands were on him again, he almost let out a sigh of relief – a tight feel at the base of his cock stopped him in his track. A ring, its pressure points pressed all the right spots. She really was prepared.

-Now we’re talking...

Her angelic smile turned amorous and she bit her lips while openly checking him out, cheeks flushed and clearly enjoying the view, before diving right in to finally take care of the teased then neglected member. She was starting the second delicate operation of the night and needed him fully focused on his own pleasure to handle it. Finally, she gave in and started running her fingers on his length, delighting in the feeling of the veins and the soft curve upward as she took him in one hand, the other on his inner thigh to caress him with her thumb.

Raphael threw his head back and let out an unrestrained moan when he felt her lips on him, the feeling of the sloppy kisses trailing all the way to his tip, followed by one hand going from the root to that delightfully sensitive part right where the skin was pulled and a palm over his tip for more teasing. Her years of learning at the Festhall of Eternal Delight had born wonderful fruits, which he was now fully savouring as she started licking and sucking his balls while working a skilful hand on his arousal. The restrictions of the ring made every single touch feel more intense, even causing his hips to jerk from the surge of pleasure when she took him in her mouth, working him one way with cool fingers steady at the base and another way with the soft and warm touches of her tongue further up his length.

Heat pooled in his loins and his breath picked up the pace as he was more than ready to coat her mouth – then he felt a pressure and the heat receded. He gave Nuria a frustrated look, but was met with a wicked grin in reaction.

-Not now.

Her voice was sweet and sing-song, bearing more innocence than her smile did. Without breaking the eye contact, she slowly got back to work, this time avoiding his now sensitive head to focus on the shaft as well as the softer skin of his inner thighs, which were peppered with gentle kisses. Her boldness would have been irritating if it had not been so erotic to feel and watch. He had spent too much time using Haarlep, in a way her actions felt charmingly refreshing to him. Besides, she had given him carte blanche once she was done with her little fun.

His train of thought was interrupted when she straddled him again, teasingly rubbing herself against him; she was sopping wet. So that was what got her off. This realisation elicited a chuckle from him that quickly turned into a purring moan when he felt her slide down on his length with a practiced roll of her hips. The heat came back in waves more intense than before, an exhilarating feeling taking over as he stirred under her, while her hips kept rolling in a slow and deliberate rhythm, grey-and-violet eyes set on him in an almost feverish gaze that he decided to hold as he silently appreciated the way she took him, how felt around him. His hips started jerking again, the sound of skin against skin echoing softly in the room as they slapped against her rear. He felt close, oh so close, heat pulsating almost painfully as his thoroughly teased manhood felt engorged and strained against the ring. He moaned when he felt the heat cresting... And then Nuria couldn’t be felt around him anymore, and the crest broke again.

-I knew you’d do well.

At this point, her eyes had this dark glint of excitement he’d already seen before, when she was after a target. Back between his now spread legs, she delicately removed the ring, then moved up to untie him. When she leaned forward, Raphael used the opportunity to get his mouth over her breasts – immediately eliciting a gasp in response -, tasting her skin and basking in its sensuous scent while she gently massaged his wrists.

She had dared deny him his pleasure, delightful vixen that she was. He could have been annoyed by that display of audacity, yet he found himself even more aroused and willing to give chase. His half-lidded eyes stayed on Nuria, now sitting on her side in a lascivious manner, sculptural in the warm, low lighting of her bedroom. Finally released from the cockring and unbound from the bedpost – he could have broken the ties she had used if he wanted to, really, but preferred indulging her request for his own pleasure -, Raphael seized the opportunity to pounce on her, once he had his fill of leering. He may have indulged her, but he still couldn’t decently let her get away with it, otherwise she’d start overreaching.

-Oh my dear, that was quite naughty of you.

Welcoming his approach, Nuria straightened herself and closed the gap between them, allowing him to wrap his arms around her slender waist and press her against him, hungry for her pretty mouth.

She felt his arms tighten around her waist as he had her turn her back to him before drawing her close again, heat suddenly intensifying against her ever-cool skin. Then, his chest felt different against her back. Opening the eyes she had closed to bask in his warmth, she couldn’t help a chuckle when she saw his copper skin had turned scarlet, and felt the air around them being moved by his wing, black claws pressing her sides. His diabolical form. That explained the new feeling, his skin hot to the touch and textured like scales, his increased height as well.

-It may have been naughty, but judging by your reaction, it has been appreciated.

As she spoke in this smooth, breathy tone that felt like a warm whisper borne by the wind, she rolled her hips against him, feeling a hardness against her rear that elicited a clear hiss from the devil. Nuria attempted to turn around and get a full look at his new appearance but found herself denied and locked in his hold. His hot breath tickled her ear and neck as he leaned in and replied, velvet voice alluring enough to warrant more wetness between her legs.

-It’s only fair that I answer back in kind, then, sweet Nuria. A deal’s a deal.

Raphael firmed his hold on her, enveloping her and basking in the delightful hot-and-cold sensation of her perfumed skin and hair, the increased cool feeling of her skin contrasting against his own, sending pleasant chills to his loins. He answered to her rolling hips with a movement of his own, sliding a hand down between her legs and enjoying the soft feeling of her skin in the process. Two clawed fingers reached her wet core, caressing her nub with the soft pads while he purred an appreciative moan, before firmly spreading her legs apart.

-Besides, if you deny me my wants, I will take them myself.

In any other circumstances, it could have been an open, sinister warning. Here, it was closer to a game of pretend – Raphael knew she’d provide, he had been well aware of her habits even before deciding to share her bed. But he had an image to maintain, and besides, with the introduction she had just given him, speaking such imperious words to Nuria in that manner was likely to arouse her. The chase was too delightful for them both to refuse indulging in it, shamelessly.

He felt the genasi lean against him, her delicate hand, ornate with tinted patterns and golden rings sliding along his arm and wrist to join the hand between her legs, gilded nails digging his skin in provocation. She rose her head towards him, an impertinent smile on her face.

-What are you waiting for, then?

Even when he was reclaiming control over her, she had a way of slipping away somehow, in a manner that was more exciting than infuriating – just one very tempting step forward and calling him to her still. He shut her up with a harsh kiss, lip-biting and tongues fighting, his free hand sliding up her waist to cup her breast, its round flesh filling his palm perfectly. Without any form of warning, he lined himself and entered her in a single, firm thrust that made her moan loudly in the mouthy kiss.

Nuria had suspected it when she had first rolled her hips against him, but once he thrust into her, it was confirmed: ridges pushed in her, stretching her more than the penetration while he had been in his human form. She barely had time to adjust however, her stifled moan seemingly being used by Raphael to signal that he could start chasing his pleasure. And chasing he certainly did, leaving her lips for her neck, breathing her avidly and biting the supple skin. Nuria let herself go against him, eyes closed, taking in the multiple sensations as they came, heat coursing through her body in waves that pooled between her legs. The hand on her breast kept teasing her now taut and sensitive nipple, while the hand between her legs snaked back up, long fingers playing with the ornate golden chain around her waist and black claws rubbing against her skin, her own smaller hand still holding it, caressing its bulging veins. Her other hand reached back tentatively. If he wouldn’t let her face him, then she’d explore him in another way. Her deft fingers sled against the burning hot skin, feeling the scale-like texture, the ridges at his waist and hip.

Her cool touch pushed yet another button in him, and while remaining on his knees behind her, Raphael angled his hips a bit – a decision he was immediately most pleased with, considering the loud moan Nuria let out as she seemingly gave him full control, basking in the new sensation while her hips matched his thrusts with an almost liquid rhythm that he had previously witnessed, much earlier in the evening, while she was dancing. It was enough for him to feel absolute pleasure shooting straight to his loins, and he went all out, showing her what he was all about.

He lost himself in the tight-hot-slick sensation, his wings unfolding as waves of pleasure kept coming, his hands clawing at her chest and belly when he felt her tighten against him, her entire body trembling in ecstasy as he rubbed against that oh-so-sweet spot with each thrust. His hiss mixed with her moans, before transforming into a moan of his own when his burning seed started filling her. They rode their orgasm fully, and Raphael took pleasure in pushing it further, taking in the overstimulation in her now overly wet cunt. When he released his grip, he felt their mixed fluids drip along his balls, and the idea of having put his favourite in such a state of undress filled him with additional pleasure.

Finally, he let her drop on the mattress and face him, see him in full diabolic glory as he towered over her, his eyes burning like Hellfire. She flopped on her back and winced slightly, noticing the long nicks on her chest before raising her dark eyes to him – he recognised the peculiar shine in them, excitation. It made him want more, it made him want to fully indulge her.

-An enlightening demonstration, I must say.

Chuckling at her quip, he leaned in with a smug smile.

-Red suits you so well, my dear. You should consider wearing it more often.

-Wouldn’t you like to make me?

-Hm... Is that a request I am hearing?

Every word he said was carefully purred as he slowly closed in on her, a predator with his precious meal. As she was considering pulling him in for another kiss, Raphael straightened himself again and tilted his head.

-All of that made me thirsty, however... Would you care for some wine?

Before Nuria could even give an answer – was she even supposed to answer that -, a bottle of sweet trika appeared with a flaming snap of his fingers. Just a bottle. She’d have wine alright, just not the way it was usually drunk.

With a smooth gesture, Raphael opened the bottle and pulled her closer to him.

-Yes... Stay just like that, while I have my fill.

Propped on her elbows, Nuria felt the wine trickle between her breast, the cool feeling replaced by a burning sensation that made her wince as it reached cuts pearled with red, this feeling immediately replaced by the wet warmth of Raphael’s tongue, who leaned in to lap. He let out a shaky moan as he reached a gash and savoured the mix of wine and blood there. He kept getting lower, licking and even drinking from her belly button, before reaching what had pooled at the crossing between her mons and her thighs. While he kept having his fill there, Nuria could feel the rough texture of his horns pressing into her. Changing her balance a bit, she reached out to run a hand in his curls and tightened her grip when she suddenly felt clawed fingers push her legs apart, tongue on her cunt. She saw Raphael’s tail swish and thought of an excited cat, then a renewed wave of pleasure made her throw her head back and close her eyes, taking in the overstimulation with a shaky sigh as he was licking and sucking.

Raphael stopped right before she went over the edge, however, and pulled back with a smug smile – this had been the answer to her opening ministration as well. His newfound energy hadn’t gone unnoticed, as he felt a small foot provocatively rub against his thigh, teasing his hardened manhood without even touching it, while Nuria made a show of her wet cunt with eyes full of laughter and mischief. She was, without a doubt, quite the piece of devious work, this one. He wanted to keep her close. He wanted to indulge her all the more, and have her commune in depraved ecstasy with him.

The devil guided her as he sat and leaned against the headboard, letting her take a seat on his laps. Nuria set against him, an arm snaking around his shoulder to settle at his neck, her hand yet again running through the curls at the nape, while the other hand explored his torso, feeling the muscles and bulging veins, teasing a nipple as she pressed herself against his ridged hardness. Raphael used the opportunity to guide her hips and entering her again. This time, the passion was languid, both of them wanting to savour what was seemingly the end of their shared meal. As her soft breasts were pressing on his chest, as her mouth was peppering a string of delightful kisses from his lips to his neck, he grabbed her rear and tightened his grip, digging his claws in the pleasant flesh while he was fully taking in her wetness and losing himself in her ride. Soon enough, they moved in unison, drowning in the way they felt against each other, how his enticing cherry sweetened her storm-damp rose, how her voluptuous incense perfumed the pepper of his smoke, how everything was being tied together by the intoxicating scent of hot sex. They rode their orgasm one last time in unrestrained, shared moans.

As they basked in the afterglow, silent fell save for their own breath and the sound of crickets outside. After a while, Nuria seized the initiative and straightened back on his lap. With her hands still roaming on his chest, she gave him a long look.

-So… Do you have other places to be, or do you want to stay until morning?

-Hm… I shall extend my stay for the night – or rather, the end of it.

The reply seemed to please her.

-Alright then, how about a cleanup first? There’s also food in the icebox and I have some tobacco blends if you enjoy smoking from a hookah.

-My, you really mean it when you say you enjoy being of service!

-Let it never be said that I am an unpleasant host. Wait here, I’ll take care of you.

When Raphael slipped out of her, the feeling of his softening manhood against her core elicited a soft hiss from her – she remained sensitive. The genasi got up first and crossed the bedroom to go to what she revealed to be the bathroom. Raphael got back to his human form and waited a few minutes before getting up, enjoying the calm and paying attention to the sound of running water. Then, he went ahead and joined Nuria in the bathroom as she was detangling her tousled hair and putting it up again to get ready for a bath she was running, moisture slowly clinging in the air. She had also used the opportunity to remove the remaining makeup on her face. He’d been used to seeing her at least with khôl, so seeing her like that offered a new level of intimacy. She had her back to him, and used his reflection in the tall mirror to address him.

-Oh, I was about to get back to you. Let me clean you up first, then how about we relax a bit?

-Only if you get in the bathtub with me, dear.

-That can be considered.

-You tease.

Nuria picked a washcloth from the washing basin, as well as a bar of scented soap, and proceeded to take care of him – cleaning the beads of sweat on his face, the sticky mix of sweat, trika and blood on his torso and then further down to his member, the pleasant feeling of the warm, damp cloth making him fully relax under her touch.

-And after you.

She directed him towards the bath while she was putting a stop to the magical amphora that had been filling it. A perfume indicated the addition of oils in it – lavender and orange blossom, and a hookah was next to it, ready to be lit and used – a fine habit, that was for certain. Raphael sunk in the hot water with a delighted sigh, before signalling Nuria to join him in the large tub. As she was entering however, he had her stay up, in front of him, while he ran his fingers over her, where his claws had cut. Light shone from the tip of his fingers, as it usually did when he used magic, and for a second a searing sensation made her wince silently. As he finished healing her, he left a kiss on her hips, his lips lingering just enough before he let her take place between his legs, leaning against him while his fingers ran over the biting marks on her neck and shoulder, repeating the process – which he ended this time with a kiss right below the ear.

-What a gracious guest you are.

-Merely matching the energy of the gracious host.

-Cute.

-Always, when I want to show my appreciation.

Nuria reached to the hookah to distract herself from the various feelings his words elicited, and lit the charcoal up with a snap of her fingers, lightning sparks flying momentarily, and pulled on the first drafts of smoke before lending the tip to the devil at her back. They kept going a little while longer, the scent of lavender and orange blossom mixing with the round and earthy scent of tobacco, then patted themselves dry and headed back to the bed, this time for proper rest.

Raphael settled against her, his head on her chest and an arm around her waist. Taken aback for a second, Nuria decided to allow it and took him in a sweet embrace, fingers running as gently as ever in his hair. 

When morning came, Raphael couldn’t tell when he had fallen asleep. What was certain was that despite the rather short and lively night, he felt well-rested. Nuria was still fast asleep next to him, her face displaying a truly innocent look for once. His eyes kept sliding back to her while he was putting his clothes back on – the morning sun was shining through the sahnisin, its shadow drawing an elegant pattern that invited him to follow the curves of her back, hips and rear. The scene inspired him and he decided to leave a little note for her before leaving. Back in the living area, he found an unused piece of paper as well as a glass pen and ink pot. With a lingering thought for the events of the previous night and the view he had just enjoyed, he penned a few lines before leaving with a sulphurous snap of fingers.

A couple hours later, when Nuria woke up, she found herself alone and quite sore. As she covered herself with a silk robe and went to the kitchen area, she noticed the papers had been moved on the table of the living area. She first approached it with suspicion, then noticed a note in an elegant handwriting that was distinguishably not hers. So he had left a note instead of leaving like a thief. A few seconds later, she was caught in an unrestrained laughter, the note in hand.

-Sharess takes me, what a pervert.

“O apple of my eye,

More seeds for your cry

That I’d happily supply.

-R”

Their next meeting promised to be most interesting.

[aeyumicore]

☾ .⭒˚ heartstring symphony ♡ xavier x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: xavier x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, pwf (so so so sooo many feelings like a whole ocean of feelings) 

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.1k (oh lawd)

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, tiny reference/spoiler to chapter 4 of the main story (grandma and caleb), references to xavier/overall lads lore, first time sex (not virginity loss), explicit sexual content, pure pure filth but also so fluffy and emotional, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving and m!receiving), lots of making out, pussy job, finger fucking, tongue fucking, cum as lube, references to xavier’s evol, slight use of y/n, switch!xavier, slight predator/prey play, somewhat vanilla

⋆.˚ ☾ video link: not necessary to watch in order to read and enjoy, but i highly recommending watching the memory for context and a visual for the fic! https://youtu.be/U-OanLwbSVE?si=Um0NFib7gQOTGrLq

☾ .⭒˚ a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY BABIESSSSS COME GET YOUR FOOD. oof this one is a doozy. based off the memory ‘heartstring symphony’ with xavier, there’s a lot of small changes to the progression and the dialogue, but its largely on par with the original memory! there’s a lot of ‘plot’ building as this memory is a bit long and i really wanted to incorporate parts from the beginning, middle, and end so i ended up needing to write for the entire thing. the build up is kinda important to the smut but you can definitely still just skip to the smut (ya filthy hoes)!!

100% dedicated to my bestie who is the downest baddest bitch for xavier!

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾

the sunlight bounces off the sheen of the strawberries that are finally ripening enough to eat. it’d been months since xavier and you had started your quaint little rooftop garden atop his balcony, and your collective dedicated gardening was finally rewarded with the most beautiful crimson strawberries you’d ever seen. having been tasked with tending to his house plants on his sudden trip away, you found yourself spending a lot of time with the strawberries on xavier’s apartment’s balcony. 

“but even though you’re bearing fruit, your owner isn’t here,” you murmur sadly, stroking the slightly sticky skin of the berries. okay sure, you were undoubtedly projecting your own feelings onto the poor little strawberries, but who could blame you? it’d been ten days since xavier had suddenly left town and similarly ten days since he’d responded to any of your text messages or returned any phone calls. 

and dammit, you missed him. missed his deep groggy voice when he’d pick up your phone calls at 11 am asking if he’d had breakfast yet, his bewildered face when you’d barge into his apartment demanding that he take you to play crane games, the way he’d pretend not to notice when you swapped hands during kitty cards. ever since you’d first met the enigmatic hunter in the abandoned protocore research base on your first mission as an official hunter, you found both your night and day dreams being filled with the thought of him. 

you’d even missed him enough to send a few regrettable late night texts, confessing just that. at 4am. you groaned inwardly at the embarrassment of recalling your deleted messages. really, no one should be allowed to send any text messages after 1am. least of all you, who had so many confusing unresolved feelings for the silver haired man in question.

the sound of keys jingling a door open snaps you out of your thoughts. your heart pounded, he was finally home! excitedly, you scrambled back into xavier’s apartment, to be met with the sight of him struggling to remove his uniform top. the sight of his sculpted torso on display before you like an absolute art piece, had you freezing in your tracks, cheeks heating at the glorious site before you. xavier also froze, his cerulean eyes locking with yours in surprise.

“you’re…here?” his voice was as warm as you'd remembered, the sound of it forever etched in your mind. but it sounded too soft, tired. exhausted even. 

“y-yeah…the weather was good today and i wanted to check on the strawberries,” you attempted to remain calm and collected, turning around to stop from staring at his exposed stomach. but the plethora of injuries on his pale skin caught your eye. instantly, you were at his side, inspecting him and assessing his scars. 

“...you got hurt?!” your heart hammered anxiously in your chest as you reached to touch him. he peered down at you guiltily, pulling his top back down to cover the scars. he gently pried your hands away from his abdomen, letting his fingers linger on your skin far longer than he’d needed to, the touch not going unnoticed by you.

“it’s nothing, let me go get changed,” xavier finally released your wrists and left you to wait on the couch for him. you felt on edge, waiting impatiently, feet tapping anxiously against the carpet. xavier finally reemerges from his room in a fresh set of indoor clothes, a ribbed white long sleeve and gray sweatpant joggers. you’d seen him in this exact outfit many times, but suddenly the way his sweatpants sat against his lap made your mind wander, but you shake the filthy thoughts out of your head. when he finally sits down next to you, you can’t help but fret over him, grabbing his arm to inspect his complexion. 

“you went missing, and now you return all beaten up…why do you always make me worry?” you reprimanded, pouting slightly, “you’re wounded aren't you? does it hurt?” your fingers ghost over the bruises on his forearm, the veins there protruding slightly amongst the bulging muscles. xavier only turns away, unwilling to meet your gaze, but still leaving his arm in your lap.

his refusal to answer only makes you more desperate for reassurance that he’s alright. you try to lift his shirt, but he uses his free hand to grip your wrist, stopping you. you don’t notice the way he blushes at your touch.

“it’s nothing, just some minor scrapes.” while the mere sound of his voice does wonders to soothe your swimming mind, it does nothing to quell the anxiety you have over his well being. over where he’d been these last ten days. with not so much as a single text message to let you know he was okay, safe. that’s all you had wanted, to know he was safe.

“i think your definition of scrape and my definition differ greatly,” you mutter sulkily, trying to get him to meet your eyes. when he doesn’t, you take his face in your two hands, forcing him to level with you. his cheeks tinge a peachy red under your palms, his normally slow and controlled breath rapidly increasing at your touch. 

“if your wounds aren’t treated they could get worse, get infected, and even become life-threatening,” you murmur, almost threatening him, unable to stop the worry from lacing into your words. you can tell he feels guilty, his eyes opting to stare at your shoulder instead of your eyes, “...this is nothing. i’m used to letting them heal without much thought.” 

this does nothing to make you feel better, if anything it makes you feel worse, and you’re unwilling to relent, “the past is the past. this is the present.”

his eyes finally peer into your own, meeting your stubborn gaze. his deep blue orbs are intense, searching for something within your own. while his voice is deep, tired, undoubtedly exhausted, you can still sense the longing heat in them. he sighs, finally caving into your whims, “alright. so, what do you want me to do?”

and so you find yourself in xavier’s dimly lit living room, a first aid kit on your lap, and xavier shirtless in front of you. you try to ignore the fact that he’s very much half naked in front of you, his joggers sitting dangerously low on his waist. so much so that you can definitely see the indentation of his obliques forming a tight ‘v’. it was enough to turn your brain into mush, but you fought those intrusive thoughts away so you could tend to his injuries. 

taking a deep breath to try and calm your raging nerves, you start, “is there a spot that hurts the most? or is really sensitive? i’ll try to be extra gentle when i apply the ointment.” your eyes linger on the way his collar bones frame the muscles on his chest, the skin there pure and untouched from the dark bruises forming on xavier’s shoulder and abs. you bite your lip to withhold the shiver threatening to overtake you at the image of xavier in all his muscular glory before you. his gentle voice brings you out of your filthy reverie.

“my neck.”

“hmm?” your eyes snap to his, cheeks flaming when you realize he’d caught you staring. he smiles gently, but thankfully doesn’t tease you.

“the most sensitive part of my body is my neck,” he says again, his words almost threatening to make you unleash the shiver you were holding back. refusing to let your mind wander more, you lean forward and begin carefully cleaning the wound that’s etched onto the muscles that connect his shoulders to his neck. while you wipe the cut with one hand, you use your other hand to rub comforting circles around the red skin surrounding it, hoping to ease the stinging. 

xavier groans, his voice husky and drawn out. you can’t help but wonder what that sound would feel like under a different circumstance, but repress those thoughts deep deep down. 

“does it hurt a lot?” you keep your eyes glued to the irritated skin, lightening the pressure at which you’re pressing down, not wanting him to feel any semblance of pain, ever.

“kind of.” xavier’s response is clouded in ambiguity, leaving you confused as to what he wants to say. before you can press him further he speaks again, “i appreciate you looking after things while i was gone.” 

you sigh at his persistent nonchalance, as if he hadn’t just up and disappeared and come back beaten and bruised. you knew him well enough to know he’s not planning on telling you what had happened to injure him like this or why he had to leave town in the first place.

feeling childish, you decide two can play at that game, “you don’t need to thank me. neighbors should always look out for each other.” you force down the inexplicable emotions stirring inside of you that threaten to spill into your voice, continuing to tend to the cuts on his neck. 

he doesn’t respond and the room becomes suffocatingly quiet. swapping the alcohol wipe for the ointment, you briefly peer up to find xavier staring at you with his intense blue eyes. you stubbornly refuse to waver from his stare, but he remains silent.

“what? if you have something to say, say it,” you demand, a bit snappishly, unable to contain the hurt you felt at his repeated silence, both now but also on his days away. 

xavier remains gentle even at your abrasiveness, “you’re really close to me. all i can do is look at you.” despite yourself, you blush at his words, chest tightening. he keeps his eyes on yours and you can’t help but squirm under his emotion clouded blue eyes, though you couldn’t decipher exactly which emotion swam through them.

the silence envelopes the air once more as you refuse to speak. xavier speaks up again, his voice low and almost sad, “are you angry with me?”

your heart cracks at the vulnerability in his voice, but you can’t seem to let go of your own peeved feelings, “why would i be? we’re just acquaintances who happen to be neighbors.” you know you’re being unfair, but you can’t help but feel as if you deserve some kind of explanation. you cared about him, far more than he probably knew, and he just up and disappeared without a trace for ten days. and to top it all off, he came back looking like this.

“are the other neighbors like us?” though his words are simple, you can’t help but wonder if xavier is intending to say something else under the veil of those words. 

no, you supposed to yourself, other neighbors probably did not feel the least bit in the way you felt for xavier. your hands tremble at the thoughts you can’t seem to push away, and you accidentally press a bit too deeply as you apply the ointment. xavier winces, his eyes finally unfocussing from yours and his brows furrowed in discomfort. 

instantly you feel bad for being even the least bit annoyed with him. your voice is much gentler now, almost apologetic, “was i too rough? you're…does it hurt a lot?”

xavier smiles reassuringly at you, so warm and gentle despite your attitude and the undeniable pain of his injuries, your stomach can’t help but flutter at him, “sort of, but i’m alright.” 

“that’s good,” is all you can sheepishly say as you find yourself lost in his expression. 

“maybe the pain is so intense that i can’t feel anything,” xavier is smiling so you know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel incredibly guilty.

“really? i didn’t mean to…”

the look he gives you is enough to shut you up. though he doesn’t say anything, his facial expression makes you wonder what exactly is going on in his mind. finally he speaks up, “it’s okay. i forgive you, and in exchange you’re not allowed to be angry at me anymore.”

“i told you that i wasn’t angry,” you sigh, “stay still. i’m going to apply the bandage.” xavier smiles and nods, straightening his posture obediently. you want to tease him, but instead diligently apply a bit of gauze to his neck and adhere it with some medical tape.

satisfied with your handiwork, you smile smugly, “all done. keep your wounds away from water and avoid eating spicy food for the next few days.” xavier mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and when you look at him his head is bowed down so low you can’t even see his eyes. before you know it, he’s collapsing in your arms, completely passed out. 

“x-xavier?!” you catch him easily, but his unconscious weight holds you down. xavier only murmurs groggily at your words. you can’t help but smile and rub his bare back adoringly. his skin is soft, and warm to the touch. you relish in the feel of his skin against yours and his presence enveloping you, having truly missed him so much. 

“poor baby,” you sigh, contemplating on how you’ll be able to carry him to his bed. 

with great effort, you’re able to haul xavier to his bedroom. as you bend down to lay him on his mattress, you trip over his feet. with his arms tangled in yours like a little koala holding on for dear like, you tumble onto the bed with him. you flop onto his mattress, and his arms tighten around you, locking you in place, tucked into his chest. you move to push him off you, but instead you accidentally graze his wrapped neck.

xavier moans, still deep in sleep, and his lip pouts as he grips you even tighter. you sigh in defeat at how content he looks with his arms wrapped around you, with his bottom lip sticking out slightly. you can’t help but admire xavier’s sleeping face, his long eyelashes tickling against your cheek. it’s not long before you find yourself being lulled to sleep by the warmth of his strong arms and the slow beating of his heart against yours. 

–

you awaken to xavier tucking you into his blanket, his movements gentle as to not wake you. your breath hitches but you do your best to pretend to still be sleeping, unable to face him in this compromising situation. with any luck, xavier would get out of bed and you could pretend to wake up when he wasn’t so intimidatingly close to you. 

but instead of getting up, xavier only lays back down beside you, nuzzling into your side. your heart races at the affection, biting your lip to keep from making any noise. his body heat against your own threatens to unleash a shiver of satisfaction across your body, but you force it back so as to not alert him that you are in fact awake. 

xavier is so unbelievably close, you can feel his breath fanning against your exposed neck and his fingers stroking your palm. unable to withstand the suffocating tension, you pretend to wake up, feigning a yawn as you flutter your eyes open. you come face to face with xavier, his eyes, still groggy with sleep, analyzing your every movement. his gaze falls lower, seemingly watching your lips part with the steady inhale and exhale of your bated breath.

you squirm, trying to dissipate the tension, remembering to keep your voice groggy, “are you still tired? it’s not morning anymore, so maybe we should start thinking about what to eat.”

“you’re resting on my arm. i can’t move. at all.” you jolt upwards, and xavier retracts his arm, rubbing the tender muscles, no doubt they’d fallen asleep, up and down. you hid your blush underneath your hair, unsure of what to do next. you became hyper aware of the fact that you sat in xavier’s bed, with him. and he was so very shirtless. 

luckily xavier speaks so you don’t have to, “i saw your texts from yesterday saying you were having trouble falling asleep. did you sleep well?”

“it was pretty good,” you answered earnestly, genuinely feeling more well rested than you had in weeks, but then your heart stuttered, “w-wait, you saw the message i deleted yesterday?!” 

“yeah, i did. but i’m pretty sure it was a small peek,” his gentle smile changes to one of a teasing grin, “xavier, if you don’t respond, i’m going to eat all the strawberries. all of them.” he raises the octave in his voice to mock you. to say you’re mortified would be an extreme understatement.

trying to deflect from the fact that he’d in fact seen your embarrassing late night texts, you counter, “but i didn’t. i saved you a small bowl!”

he continues, deadset on his mission to embarrass the hell out of you, his grin radiant enough to stop your heart. which you might actually prefer to the sheer embarrassment of being called out like this, “the moment i think about you being somewhere else annoys me to the point where i can’t sleep at all.” 

you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, utterly defensive, “well, of course! you can’t just ask someone to look after your stuff and then ghost them. if that’s not being unreasonable then i don’t know what is!”

xavier glances at you, his voice calm but his eyes holding inexplicable emotions that you cannot decipher, “oh, and there's one text that i can't forget.” you hold your breath, already knowing which one it is. undoubtedly the worst, most incriminating one of them all. 

“i think i miss you.” groaning, you cover your eyes with your hands and fall back against the bed. xavier laughs, propping up on his side to face you, his fingers brushing some stray strands of hair away from your cheek, hooking them behind your ear. 

“...you saw every message!” you accused, peeking at him through the cracks of your fingers still covering your eyes. but didnt respond to any of them, you want to add, but hold yourself back. 

his expression is that of pure innocence, “i was going to reply to them, but then i got caught up in something. and you deleted them a second later. i could only pretend that i didn’t see anything.” and then slowly, almost painfully, he adds, “maybe those messages weren't meant for me.”

despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t possibly let xavier think those thoughts were for anyone but him. the flicker of dejection in his eyes is enough to have you spilling out the truth, “...okay, i didn’t send them to the wrong person!” your cheeks burn and you’re sure you look just as red as one of the strawberries on the balcony. you prop up on your own side to face him, “i missed you. but that’s not the point!” your lips jut out to pout at him, feeling like an attention-seeking toddler that had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

xavier, the relief and longing palpable in his eyes, reaches his free arm out to cup your cheek in his palm, “and i missed you too.” his voice is low, nothing more than a whisper, making your breath catch in your throat.

his thumb brushes across the corner of your lip, “unbearably so.” his intimate touch literally rewires your brain, making you throw all inhibitions out the window. the tidal wave of emotions you’d had on a tight leash, floods through the dam. unable to control yourself, you firmly push him down on the bed and straddle him, making sure to avoid any of the bruises on his abdomen. 

“why did you leave me?!” you whine, surprising xavier and even yourself with your assertiveness. he rests his hands atop your thighs, as they cage him beneath you. his body is warm under your own, and you feel the heat manifesting in your gut at the intimate closeness of your bodies.

his surprised expression is quickly replaced with one of cool and calm, despite the fact that you were literally on top of him like he’d secretly imagined several times before, “why are you so worried about me?”

“...when there are bad people and wanderers out there, of course i’ll be worried about you,” your voice softens at the very thought. the emotions coursing through you make your voice waver, no matter how hard you try to steel yourself. 

xavier smiles warmly at you, his hands wandering upwards to your waist and then to your lower back. you’re acutely aware of his hands on you and it causes your confidence to tremor, your stomach bubbling in anticipation at his touch. 

“and yet, you’re way more dangerous than any wanderer could be,” his voice is throaty, tinged with need and desire and his eyes find your lips once more.  

“this is different. i would never hurt you,” you counter, your hands resting against his broad chest. confidence returning ever so slightly, you dust your fingers against his delicate skin. you come close to his nipples, but narrowly and intentionally miss them. xavier’s hands on your back grip harder, not enough to hurt but enough to leave you breathless and wanting more. you can feel him squirm beneath you, eyes pleading with yours. for what, you’re unsure. 

“yes, but i don’t have the strength to resist you at the moment.” xavier’s voice is nothing more than a whisper, has hands digging further into the sensitive skin of your lower back. you writhe on top of him, to which he lets out a faint moan, just barely audible in the crackling air around you. 

your voice is but a rasping murmur, as you throw caution to the wind, giving into all the inexplicable emotions your heart held for the man beneath you. at your mercy, “then…don’t.”

at your words, xavier pushes you down towards him with the hands he had on your back. you offer no resistance, fully letting him guide your face to his own. and like you’d day dreamed so many times before, xavier takes your lips into his. softly, reverently, but so hungrily.

your fingers entangle in his pale locks, gripping gently as his lips mold perfectly against yours. you sigh into his mouth as your breaths merge together. you breathe him in, basking in his radiance, all around you. xavier’s hands leave your back to hold the plush of your thighs, kneading softly but so possessively. your thighs clench around his hard torso, and you can’t help but rock yourself into him until you are resting on his lap, on his crotch. his hands tighten on your thighs, the grip a clear message, a wordless command for you to behave.

his tongue caresses your lips, a silent request for entry. you obediently part them, allowing him access to every part of you. when his tongue ghosts against yours for the very first time, you moan so deep and pleadingly that you can feel xavier’s smile against your lips. his hands wander up and down your back again mapping out all the ridges of your spine against your thin shirt. 

you’d imagined kissing xavier for the first time, many many times, but none of those silly little daydreams could amount to this. your imagination paled in comparison to the real thing, so willing, pliant, and tender underneath you. ready to do anything to serve you.

you finally pull away, gasping for air but only craving his breath against yours again, you can’t help but ask meekly, “is this okay?” 

you can see the answer in xavier’s eyes, but he responds still, “more than okay. is it okay for you?” 

breathlessly, you trail your thumb across his bottom lip and mirror his words, “more than okay.” you’re suddenly hit with the reminder of just how much xavier had you worrying these past few days. feeling mischievous, you stare down at him, face flushed pink and lips swollen with saliva. your fingers trail down his cheek, careful not to touch his sensitive neck, and onto his chest, “i should teach you a lesson so you never make me worry like that again.”

between his breathless pants, he’s intrigued, “...what do you want?” his hands flit to the waistband of your pants, playing with the material and letting his fingers brush against the skin of your waist. you hold back a tremble, and instead of answering him, you decide to just show him. dragging your fingers across his muscular chest, you let your thumbs brush against his hardening nipples. xavier’s sharp inhale is immediate and you feel him clench his hands against your hips. you lean your face down to trail a path of small kisses down his chest, over his bruises, all the way to his naval. 

you can feel him trembling beneath your every touch as he grinds out, “is this my punishment?” his hand reaches up to weave his fingers through your hair, collecting the pieces that fall to your eyes as you bend down to kiss his skin. 

grinning, you sit back up, taking his cheeks in between your fingers and squish. you can never help but to tease xavier, his adorable reactions always leaving you wanting more. you release his face from your hold, only for him to mirror your actions right back at you. his fingers are delectably rough as they grip your chin.

“i can do that too. like this.” his face is so full of amusement, making you want to retaliate further. so you let your hands wander back up his chest, slowly moving to wrap around his neck. you see xavier’s eyes widen in surprise as your fingers delicately tickle the sides of his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath them. as your nails flicker across the sensitive skin of his neck, xavier lets out a groan that sounds suspiciously like a whimper. 

“ahh, please,” he whines. you notice that his hands have slipped under your shirt now, but not venturing upwards, ever the gentleman.

you giggle at his vulnerability, “you’re injured and don’t know how to take care of yourself,” you hand ventures from xavier’s neck to hold his face in between your fingers again, “you’re like a helpless animal about to be eaten.” your voice is a teasing coo, and you bend down slowly, torturously grinding your core along his crotch. he hisses again, fingers digging into your bare skin as if hoping to slow you down. but instead, you lean into the crook of where his neck meets his shoulder, on the side that’s uninjured, and press a barely there kiss into the skin. even at the faintest touch along his neck, xavier groans and presses his lower half harder into you. to stop your own moans, and maintain the upper hand, you bite into xavier’s neck. he swears and his fingers crush into your sides, and you squeal into his neck but your lips stay latched. 

his skin is so sweet between the gentle teasing of your teeth, his pheromones invading all your senses. as you suckle on the sensitive skin there, you continue to rock your lower half against him, pleasantly surprised at the feel of his bulging erection against you. your filthy day dreams of him paled in comparison to the sheer girth of what sat beneath you now. 

“you’re not worried about me – hah, retaliating?” but you ignore him, instead relishing in the sound of his pants in response to your touch. never in your wildest dreams did you imagine xavier would be this reactive.

he continues his delectable moans at your ear, “h-hah, fuck – w-wait. love please,” your core clenches at the endearment and you detach yourself from xavier’s neck, a flushed bruise starting to form where your lips previously sat. xavier hardens further at your disheveled sight. lips red, swollen, and shiny with saliva, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red, eyes hazy with lust. he was fighting from coming undone at the sight alone. 

“wh-what? is this not okay?” you pause, worrying you had crossed a boundary, but you can’t help the gentle and uncontrollable tremors your core makes against his crotch, almost like the aftershock of an earthquake. he groans in response, his head falling back deeper into the pillow as his eyes clenched shut.

his big hands squeeze your thighs reassuringly, and his right palm reaches up to cup your cheek. you lean into his touch, savoring the feel of his warm and protective hand against your flushed cheek. he repeats his words from earlier, “it’s more than okay. you don’t know how long i’ve waited to have you like this.” his words are filled with a vast expanse of emotions, but one you can make out is indescribable and utter love. like he’d been waiting an eternity for you to fall into place in his life. 

his hands trails down to play with the buttons on your top, fingers grazing the exposed skin on your chest. you shiver as he says, “but i want — i need to savor this moment with you.” 

in that moment you think about the way your heart has always throbbed at the thought of xavier. you think you’ve loved him for a while, it always felt like your life was destined to intertwine with his, in unexplainable ways. you’d long given up on fate, especially after caleb and grandma. but looking at the azure eyed man beneath you, you couldn’t help but think that that very fate had brought you two here today. so when you intertwine your fingers with his hand that toys with unbuttoning your top and bring your joined palms up against your heart, you don’t hesitate to confess, “you have me, forever.” 

at your declaration, the expression on xavier’s face is a haze of inexplicable emotions. with the faintest sliver of hesitation and something that sounds an awful like sorrow he finally murmurs, “and you’ve had me, forever.”

unable to withstand the intensity of his longing stare and the weight of his words, you dip back down to capture his lips with yours, returning his heavy words with an equally passionate kiss. your hands move to stroke up and down his naked chest, before landing on his neck, using your thumb to feel the thrumming of his unusually erratic pulse. with your free hand you encourage his fingers that fiddle with the buttons of your blouse, urging him to undo the confines. you can tell xavier is holding back, likely doing his best to tread the fine line between careful respect for you and losing all control.

reluctantly, you withdraw from him, whispering through your gasps, “xavier…please. i want this. i want you.”

his eyes are misted with lust and adoration, his body stiffening even further. his voice is as deep as you’ve ever heard it, “are you sure y/n? you have to be sure. i-i’m scared i won’t be able to stop.” 

softly, you use your fingers to trace over the hickey you’ve left behind on his neck. his breath catches and you can see the control slipping from his grasp. slowly, you bring your fingers to unbutton your blouse yourself. painfully slow, each finger taking its time to unlatch each enclosure, and you murmur, “i won’t want you to stop.”

his eyes are locked on you, as you slip the blouse off your shoulders, leaving you in your white satin bra. his jaw tightens at the sight of you and he grabs your thighs, “don’t say i didn’t warn you.” and with those words, xavier’s thick arms are lifting you into the air and throwing you gently underneath him. in a flash, his heavy body is on top of yours, your legs parted to accommodate his unbelievably built stature. you squeal in surprise at his dominance, the sound cutting through the thick sexual tension in the air. xavier smiles down at you, the dangerous glint in his eyes making heat flare between your legs. the slick forming in between your folds is unmistakable and you bite your lip to keep the moans at bay. 

“am i still a helpless animal? since you seem to know everything, you should enlighten me.” the deep purr in his voice edges on a primal growl, like a predator with its prey between its claws. it’s enough to have you submitting to his every whim. how quickly xavier has turned the tables on you, his hand now gently pressed against your own neck, has rendered you a stuttering dripping mess.

“x-xavier…”

but he silences you, placing his index finger over your lips, his other hand moving downwards to stroke the soft satin of your bra, his fingers flitting dangerously close to the skin of the swell of your breasts, “when faced with a hunter that knows my weakness and how to take advantage of them, is there anything i can do?” you’ve never heard xavier so threateningly dominating, so demanding. it leaves you utterly speechless, your previous upper hand gone completely. 

“perhaps i should teach you a lesson.”

you shudder at his words. his hands reach under your back to unhook your bra and you arch off the bed to allow him to slip it off effortlessly. fully exposed before him, xavier’s eyes burn with such intense heat it intimidates you, so you instinctively cover your breasts. xavier doesn’t speak, instead dipping his head down to trail delicate kisses along your arms, leaving a path of goosebumps in his wake. your breath comes out in shallow pants as he gently pries your arms away, and presses an open mouthed kiss to the swell atop your right breast. 

you shiver uncontrollably under his warm lips, needing more friction, “p-please xavier.”

xavier’s wide grin is uncontainable, “look who’s the helpless animal now?” but despite his teasing, xavier indulges your pleas, capturing your nipple in his warm and waiting mouth. you’re unable to stop the gasp that tumbles out of your lips, your body arching off the bed only to be met with xavier’s heavy body pressing you back down. xavier’s muffled moans against your sensitive skin send your eyes into the back of your skull. as the pleasure threatens to overtake your melting mind, you press your dampening crotch into his erection even further trying to gain more friction. he groans, deep and hoarse, making you peer down at your chest and at him. your eyes meet.

the eye contact as he devours you is enough for your climax to start creeping in, your hand wedging between the two of you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants. your hands are met with the alarming dampness of his pre cum seeping through the gray fabric that frames his bulging erection. you bite your lip at the sheer mass you hold in your hands, your fingers tracing just how thick he was. 

xavier’s tongue continues to flick along your nipple as your hand slowly makes its way under his waistband and under his boxer briefs. with his pubic hair tickling your palm, you brush your fingers against his thick erection. your touch earns your breast a harsh nip which causes you to cry out. the pleasure and pain is so blinding you find yourself needing to grip onto his cock just to keep succumbing to your impending orgasm, rooting you to reality.

“h-hah, y/n, please…ah, not so tight please,” xavier’s voice is a desperate whine, as he pants against the swell of your breast. at his urging you release his manhood from your grip ever so slightly, but keep it trapped in your palm, your hand has a mind of its own, unable to stop from stroking his length up and down, brushing against the single bulging vein alongside it. he leaks so much pre cum that it feels like he’s already pumped his release all over himself. you collect it all, using it to fist his cock in your hands while he ravages your breasts.

“you’re, hah, making me ruin my pants love,” xavier pants against you, descending upon your body until you’re forced to release him, much to your dismay. he slots his lips in the valley of your breasts, leaving a trail of wet kisses slowly down your body. when he reaches your belly button, his hands reach to remove your pants and panties in one fell swoop. the cold air nips at your exposed core, as xavier removes the tangle of clothing from your limbs 

completely exposed before him, xavier rakes his eyes all over your bare body, admiring every inch of you and breathes out a single word, “beautiful.” you blush under his gaze and you clasp your thighs tight in an attempt to hide but xavier keeps your legs open, his grip tight on your knees. with his eyes locked on yours, he guides your calves onto his shoulders, careful to avoid his bandages. you feel nervous as he comes face to face with your undoubtedly soaking cunt, and to your utter embarrassment he notices it too.

“you’re so wet already. is this all for me?” while his words are teasing, his tone is earnest, almost in awe.

“w-wait xavier, you’re injured. i don’t want you to strain yourself. l-let me–” 

his eyebrows arch at you, “you said i should stay away from spicy foods, you never said anything about this. let me enjoy myself.” without letting you protest any further, he lowers his face onto your waiting cunt, his mouth unbelievably warm against your own burning core. you cry out, your back arching to the point it feels as if it may snap. with your legs on xavier’s shoulders, your lower half is elevated nearly a foot off the bed, his hands on your thighs supporting your entire body.

xavier’s tongue is fervent and attentive. he explores every inch of you, mapping out which areas make you sing with the most pleasure. his tongue alternates between dipping in and out of your entrance and caressing your clit while his hands move to prop you up by your ass. as he feasts on you, his hands knead the fat of your rear.

“x-xavier please. so so s’good,” you wail, hands digging deep into his comforter, wishing your hands could reach his hair, his face, anything. your clit feels like it might explode in pure ecstasy under xavier’s tongue, making you unable to control your mouth. your words make him harden impossibly more, still restrained in his soaked sweatpants. he groans into your core, the vibrations intensifying your pleasure. you can feel your orgasm racing towards you, which makes your thighs tremble around his face. suddenly, he stops and lifts his head. you whine at the loss of his tongue and the disruption of your climax, almost collapsing into the bed if it wasn’t for his strong arms supporting you.

“can i put a finger in?” his eyes are pleading, as if he’s worried you might deny him.

your head bobs eagerly, and you have to hold yourself back from telling him he can literally do whatever he pleases with you, “god, yes. just don’t stop, please.”

“you’re so adorable when you beg for me,” he grins as his lips find your clit once more as he eases not one but two fingers into your waiting hole. your moans fill the room at being so suddenly and pleasantly filled to the brim, your eyes rolling into your brain. xavier’s pace leaves nothing to be desired, his movement producing absolutely filthy noises to mix with the sounds of your moans. you can feel him scissoring his fingers in and out, stretching you out against his soaking hands.

“you’re so tight even around just my fingers…” he trails off in wonder, pondering how he’d possibly fit himself inside you, if you’d allow him.

“m’s-sorry,” you pant against his ministrations stretching you to the fullest you’ve ever felt, “xavier, th-think i might cum soon.” 

your words fuel him further, the squelching sounds music to his ears. the pleasure is endless and you’re starting to see white. without stopping his fingers, he murmurs against your clit, “please give it to me. cum for me, love. i need it.” 

combined with his expert fingers weaving in and out of you, his demand sends your hurtling through your orgasm. your thighs threaten to crush his skull as they tremble uncontrollably on his shoulders. you release all over his face, his mouth still latched onto you, gushing into his waiting mouth as you chant his name like a prayer. he replaces his fingers with his tongue, giving your aching clit a much needed break while still working you through your fierce orgasm. you softly scream in response to this warm tongue inside of you, shuddering through the final waves of your orgasm while xavier laps up all of your release, not letting even a single drop be wasted.

as your body heaves, xavier removes himself from your thighs, softly setting you down against the bed. he murmurs, “you taste so good. better than i ever imagined.”

his words fuel you with confidence, and you feel the irresistible urge to return all the pleasure xavier just gave you. your thighs are absolute jelly, but you crawl to your knees to face him. taking his face into your hands, you lean in so your lips are millimeters apart and whisper, “my turn please.” 

xavier’s eyes smolder, and he lets himself be pushed down backwards onto the bed, with you slotting between his thighs like he’d done to you. feeling confident from the aftermath of your orgasm, you lean down and kiss his bulge through his soaked sweatpants. he hisses, as his hands cup the back of his head on the pillow. his reactions only serve to embolden you further, and you lick a strip down his pants, relishing in the salty taste of his pre cum on your tongue. unable to wait further, you pull his joggers and undergarments down together, and his cock springs free. your confidence wavers as you’re met with xavier in all his glory. he was unbelievably thick, and the vein you’d felt earlier bulged deliciously against the pale pink skin. you unconsciously lick your lips at the challenge before you, taking him into both your hands and sinking down to lap up the pearly white beads that had formed on his tip, threatening to spill over.

xavier lets out a guttural groan, his hands leaving his head to thread through your hair. he whines as you take his tip into your mouth, gripping your hair gently. the salty, yet surprisingly sweet, taste invades your mouth as you struggle to accommodate his girth in between your lips. determined to please him, you bob down deeper as your tongue lathers the sides of his cock attentively. 

“h-hah shit.” xavier is a grunting mess beneath you, “my – ahh – beautiful girl. you’re doing so, fuck, s’good.” he hits the back of your throat, tears streaming down your face. you bob slowly, your jaw aching already as you do your best to take him. with your hands you stroke the parts of him that aren’t in your mouth. 

xavier’s hands in your hair are slowly guiding your head up and down, encouraging you take him a bit faster. you gag against him, his moans letting you know how much he enjoys your throat closing around his length. while his thickness threatens to split your jaw, you can’t help but enjoy how he feels inside your mouth, an endless dribble of pre cum your reward for taking him so well. after a few minutes of this, xavier’s hands tighten in your hair.

“s-stop.” you peer up at him through your wet eyelashes. hes propped up on his elbows now, staring at you with an intensity that excites you to your core. 

“i…i need to be inside you. is that okay?” he asks, but it feels more like a command. more than willing to indulge him, you lick the stray beads of pre cum that had found their way onto your lips, and you get on your knees so you can seat yourself on top of him. using your soaked slit, you grind on his saliva and pre cum slicked erection, whimpering while it catches on your clit, still sensitive from his tongue. 

xavier massages your thighs soothingly, his smile is as radiant as ever, “don’t worry love. take your time. i’m yours to use however you’d like.” his words fuel your pulsating cunt, and you continue to grind on him, letting his tip ghost along your entrance, but not allowing him in. your teasing drives him to the edge of madness and you love seeing his undoing all over his facial expression. the friction combined with his reactions to you are enough to have your second orgasm building in your stomach. the mixture of your arousals lets him glide so easily in and out of your thighs between your leaking slit. 

you’ve definitely never tried this before, but the anticipation of using just your pussy lips to pleasure the both of you is so exciting. the sounds of your combined slick so lewd against both your bodies. his cock so close to just entering your waiting hole and devouring you whole. it’s all enough to have you cumming again right then and there, but you know the next time you finish you need it to be with him stuffed deep inside you.

“so big xavier…don’t know if it’ll fit..” you whine, not daring to halt your movements across his cock.

“it will baby, i’ll make sure it fits.” you shiver at his words and finally, you allow yourself to sink down onto him. you wail at the impossible stretch, much more than his two fingers. honestly you’d wished he would’ve used four fingers as that might’ve prepped you better, more accurate to what was stuffed inside you now.

your thighs tremble as you’re able to take his head fully in. the stretch is uncomfortable, but you’re wet enough where there’s as little resistance as physically possible. xavier throws his head back and pants out words of encouragement, hands kneading into your thighs. 

“y’you’re so fucking tight it feels like you’re trying to snap it off,” he grits, eyes glued to where your body connects with his. you lower yourself steadily, and you finally seat yourself fully, his cock pulsing excitedly inside you. you gasp for air taking a second to situate yourself before you can even think of moving again. xavier is no better under you, sweat forming on his forehead from the pleasure alone, his chest heaving up and down rhythmically.

“m’gonna move now, ‘kay?” you warn him breathlessly, surprised your brain is even able to still form words.

xavier is equally fucked out, begging shamelessly, “please. need to feel you.” though xavier is the one pleading underneath you, you’re not a fool. ever the wolf in sheep’s clothing, you know he is the one in control of the situation, even if you’re the one setting the pace on top of him.

his pleas are enough to get your thighs moving, rocking up and down, back and forth. you squeeze your eyes shut, falling forward so your clit can catch on the thick muscles alove his pubic bone. xavier’s hands on your thighs inch up to your waist to better guide you along as your pelvis rhythmically gyrates back and forth to better feel him against your clit and inside you.

“hah, i’ve always loved it when you take control on missions. so pretty – shit – f’me, using my cock like this,” xavier pants, holding onto your body for dear life.

the pleasure of his words swims straight to your head, and you can feel your brain turning to mush as you use xavier’s cock to pleasure yourself in ways you’d never dreamed of feeling. you can vaguely hear his endless grunts and whines of encouragement as your heart pounds in your ears. the earth shattering orgasm creeping up on you builds monumentally, much more intense than the one that’d already ravaged your body. 

xavier’s breathy cries snap you back into the present, “sh-shit slow down. if you don’t–hah– slow down m’gonna–” he cuts himself off, swearing as he feels you tighten even further around him. as if needing something to hold onto to steel himself, he uses one hand to grasp your breast, squeezing forcefully. you yelp at the painful ecstasy, your steady pace faltering and giving both of you a second to slow down your impending orgasms. 

not giving him too much time to recover, you begin rocking again, slowly, torturously, and passionately, unable to stop yourself from chasing the pleasure only he can give you. your hand is planted on his abs to steady yourself. xavier’s eyes lock onto your joined crotches, mesmerized by the motions you make that are akin to the ocean waves pulling in and out of the beach. you pulsate around him wildly and he throbs inside you rhythmically, your bodies meshing perfectly.

as your head is thrown back, your eyes once again inching into your skull, xavier thumbs at your clit. you squeal and contract at the waves of pleasure he induces onto your body with a single touch.

xavier swears inexplicably at your vice grip on his length, knowing your body is pushing him rapidly towards his finish. your slow and intentional bounces have him seeing stars, but he needs more. keeping his thumb steadily drawing circles in your aching bundle of nerves, he uses his other hand to grip your waist and guide you along, faster and harder. 

his eyes admire your naked beauty on top of him, he pants out, “s’perfect, y/n. you’re beautiful you know that?”

at his words, you’re a faltering moaning mess as the rhythm xavier sets has his tip hitting deep in your gummy walls, stroking your sweetest spots at every thrust. at this point xavier’s hand does much of the work, your thighs threatening to give out as the only thing your brain can focus on is the pure pleasure of his cock reaching the most sensitive spots right before your cervix.

you’re reaching a point of no return, unable to stop your babbling mess, “x-xavier you’re s’deep, s’big. splitting me open.” you can feel the mixture of slick against the underside of your thighs, smearing against his pelvis as your bodies slap against each other. 

“baby you’re making such a mess…hah..fuck is this all for me?” 

you whine at his words, “s’all for you xavier..m’all yours.” thighs still burning as you do your best to bounce on him, you grip your breasts with your hands as xavier uses you like a toy. he seems to know exactly where your g spot is, and he hits it every single time, almost as if he knows your body far better than even you. you’re coming impossibly close to your climax, but you can’t fathom this moment between you two ending.

“come here,” xavier whispers desperately, “let me taste you.” with his hands still shoved between your bodies, playing with your clit, you bend down towards him and let him take your lips into his once more. his soft lips are urgent as they take you, and you can almost feel a lifetime of emotions xavier has kept from you. you respond with the same desperation, wanting to show him how much he has invaded your very being. your body, your mind, your heart and soul. it all felt hopelessly intertwined with xavier, and you couldn’t fight it. you didn’t want to fight it. 

his tongue, cock, and fingers ravage you in perfect unison. the blinding tension in your gut threatens to boil over, and you try to warn him, “x-xav, can’t take much more.” 

“you’re doing so good for me, y/n. i can–f-fuck–feel how close you are. please, cum for me,” he pants, his breath mingling with yours. doing your best to maintain your rhythm amidst the climax that descends upon you like a tsunami, you sink your lips into xavier’s neck, careful to avoid his cuts. the moan that he responds with is a deep guttural warning. that he’s as close to coming undone as you are. 

with renewed vigor you bounce atop xavier, absolutely needing to hear him fall apart for you. you spear yourself onto his ever hardening and throbbing erection as his thumb on your clit sends you into oblivion. the bone crushing orgasm descends upon you, and you bite down on xavier’s pulsing neck. You let out a string of incoherent babbles right by his ear,  and he eats up every single cry you make for him. the tsunami consumes you, manifesting in uncontrollable waves of tremors around xavier’s leaking cock inside you. wailing through your orgasm, right into his ear, xavier takes you into his arms completely and bounces you violently on top of him, desperately chasing his own release. 

“fffuck, you’re milking me y/n,” xavier groans through gritted teeth, “makin’ a mess all over my bed.”

you alternate between nibbles and soothing licks against his neck, feeling how he swelled inside you at his sensitive neck being ravaged. you could tell xavier was impossibly close, feeling his heartbeat throb in his cock as he speared your overstimulated core onto him with every ounce of fleeting energy he had left. 

exhausted and completely fucked out, you murmur into his ear, “xavier, please. i-inside. make me yours.” you plant a gentle wet kiss on the deep red bruise you’d etched into his neck. It resembles the strawberries you’d grown together on the balcony.

xavier’s deep and incomprehensible swears ensue, “you’re mine. say it y/n, please.” his thrusts are erratic now, losing himself to the pleasure of your body perfectly wrapped around him.

you squeeze your eyes shut, suckling gently on the hickies you’ve littered across his pale neck, “m’yours xavier, now and always.”

your words send him toppling over the edge, letting out a strangled groan as you feel him release deep inside your cunt, pumping his release as deep as it will go. it’s unbelievably soothing, the warm milky seed relieving some of the ache in your throbbing hole from his intense ravishing.

despite the overstimulation, xavier continues to thrust lazily in and out of you, wanting to keep every drop of his spend sealed inside you, as deep as it will possibly go. it makes him wince, but he can’t bear the thought of any of it being wasted when it belongs inside you. but you tap his pecs pointedly, still laying completely naked and soaked on top of him, and whine, “s’too sensitive xavier.”

he chuckles and brings your face to his, this time pressing a slow and sensual kiss to your lips. you close your eyes, enjoying the feel of his soft lips against yours, your bodies connected in more places than one. with your head still on his broad and muscular chest, you relish in the slowing and soft thumps of his calming heartbeat, absolutely content and blissed out. xavier strokes your hair with one hand, his fingers massaging your scalp, and his other hand rests tightly on the small of your back. as if he’s scared you might disappear at any moment.

inevitably, his softening member threatens to slip out, but you’re much to fucked out to be able to move a single muscle. xavier shuffles gently, and you feel him lifting your body off of him and onto the space beside him. he moves again to shift off the bed, presumably to grab a washcloth to wipe you off, but you clutch his bicep and bury your face into his muscular side.

“please don’t go,” you whisper. he looks hesitant, wanting to clean you up and take care of you like you deserve.

“i can’t fall asleep counting stars. i need them to stay by my side,” you mumble sleepily, not even caring that the mixture of your collective release dripped down your rear and onto the bed beneath you. when he doesn’t respond, you peer up at him, and find yourself in awe of the man before you.

while his face is utterly exhausted, the sleep in his eyes clouding his azure blues, he almost glows. because of his evol, xavier is always incandescent, but this is different. its almost as if his sweat slicked skin illuminates in the soft rays of fading daylight that spill into his bedroom. he catches your stare and he smiles so brilliantly at you that you feel like you’re in the presence of the sun itself. like he’s an angel sent from the heavens to derail your entire life. 

he relaxes back down beside you, covering the two of you with his thick comforter. fixating on the sounds of your soft breathing, xavier softly tucks you into his side, with his arm around the back of your shoulders. finally, he speaks gently and so heartbreakingly apologetically, “i’m sorry. i should've responded to your messages.”

“honestly, i’m not that upset,” you sigh into his warm chest muscles that feel better than any pillow ever could. propping onto your side to face him, worry laces into your voice, “but xavier, you fell asleep after getting injured. aren’t you still tired?”

his voice is thick with sleep, deep and comforting to your ears, “yeah.”

“will a good night’s sleep fix everything?”

with his fingers tracing patterns into your naked back, xavier’s pensive for a brief moment. his answer is thoughtful and earnest, “only if you stay and sleep next to me.” 

the butterflies that erupt in your stomach bloom into your chest and you're incapable of keeping your voice steady while you continue your line of questioning, “is that why you always say everything’s fine and don’t tell me when you’ve been gravely wounded?” 

he hesitates as you stare at him, his arm still wrapped protectively over you.

seconds tick by, “i’m leaving if you don’t answer.” you even make a show of trying to get up, knowing damn well you’re not going anywhere. xavier’s grip on you tightens, quite possessively.

“i promise it won’t ever happen again,” his eyes convey so much more than his words as he stares into your very being. the ardor in his blue eyes overwhelms you with emotions that sting your eyes. 

“will there ever be a day when you fall asleep and never wake up?” the question comes tumbling out of your lips before you can even stop it. there’s really no reason for you to even fathom that this could happen, but something inside you demands an answer from the silver haired man wrapped around you.

xavier is silent for an agonizing moment, but takes your hand into his, placing a warm kiss onto it. you shiver at the feel of his lips against your hand. it feels like much more than just a fleeting kiss, but a promise, “if such a thing ever happens, you – and only you – must remember to wake me up.”

you fall back into the crook of where his chest connects with his arm, satisfied with his response, for now. with your hand still in his, you nuzzle into him, doing your best to avoid the trail of injuries that still stained his beautiful glowing skin.

and it felt so good, so right to be held by xavier like this. xavier wondered how it could be that you fit so perfectly into his arms, into his life. you both knew there was a heavy conversation to be had, about where this left the two of you. as friends, as hunting partners, but especially as two people whose fates were so indescribably interwoven with each other. you both decided you’d save that for later, opting to savor the perfect bliss of this moment. 

xavier’s unable to keep his hands off you, innocently grazing against every inch of skin he can. his fingers trace unintelligible patterns on your back and his right hand rubs soothingly up and down between your thigh and your hips. his comforting touch feels so inexplicably right, like two stars written in the night sky. xavier was your shooting star, after all.

just before sleep consumes you, you feel out for him, “xavier?” you’re unsure if he’s still awake as you await his response.

“yes love?” from his voice you can tell he is on the cusp of dozing off, still with his hands all over you. your heart flutters at his words.

“you better not ever scare me like that again,” your voice, thick with exhaustion, is anything but threatening as you kiss the skin of his chest muscles.

his languid chuckle is deeper than usual, his stroking halts as he grips your thigh tight, drawing you closer to him and pressing an adoring kiss to your forehead, “if this is my punishment, then i can’t make any promises.”

© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡

[whomstress]

What it Takes to Feel Real (Part 2)

[Part 1] So this was only supposed to have 2 chapters but I can't help myself and took advantage of my chronic insomnia and wrote until 5 am to finish this chapter. The next next fic I write after this will be very wholesome promise, but this ones a major angst if you couldn't tell from the last chap lol. SO anyway next chapters last one! Oh and it's a doozie.

It’s been a year of being on and off, and eventually a fully fledged couple, to get him to really open up to her. She was his confidant, and he was hers. But it was different with him. Ragatha, though really not liking to bother anyone in the slightest, did occasionally let someone know if she was a little bit down or worried about something if someone had caught on. She’d gotten better at it since being with Jax, but she's still a people-pleaser at heart, rarely wanting anyone to worry for her.

Jax, on the other hand, never gave the slightest clue to his being in a bad place. Sure, he didn’t hide it when he was annoyed or angry, but anything deeper than that, and if someone even mentioned it to him, he’d find a way to make them back off as quick as he could.

Ragatha had always been different about it, though. As much as he wanted her to back off, especially when they were not as close, she may have stopped asking verbally but made sure to be watching him from the corner of her eye, and if things got worse, she made sure to check on him even if he hated it. He appreciated it.

Well, for the most part, when she finally got through to him, he would “allow” her to comfort him. He’d let her into his room or come into hers, most of the time at some hideous time in the middle of the night, where not a soul could see them, and sit silently in his presence. Every time he wouldn’t say a word and wouldn’t let her touch him, besides once or twice, they would stay as completely still as possible. But he would let her lay on the bed, not too far from her, sitting on the floor against it, and slowly let his tense body relax in her company. He’d sometimes allow her to sing soothing songs, all as he stared blankly at the wall, like he was looking beyond all this and nowhere at all. She appreciated when he did because he would relax faster, and depending on how bad his mood was, he would too.

She eventually realized that what had really comforted him the most was that he just didn’t want to be alone. She had no idea what he was thinking about the long, mostly silent nights. She was there, relaxing barely an inch at a time, but she was happy she could help him. Helping people and helping him made her feel useful. As if she was needed, and it made her alive and made her feel human again.

At times, Ragatha truly didn’t like him, and she was sure his feelings were mutual. Still, they understood each other like no one else.

They were two sides of the same coin. Even if it was for the opposite reasons, neither wanted others to worry about them. Both engaged with the fellow characters more than anyone else because focusing on other people allowed them to ignore what was going on with themselves. Keeping other people at arms length while refusing to live alone. Because of this, they saw through each other like a window. They both constantly needed to be reminded of what was real and what was fake.

When no one else had a single clue, they only needed to see the slightest crack in each other's mask to know something was wrong. They were so different and yet so similar. She supposed that’s why they got together; opposites attract.

Finally, when they were together, she allowed him to comfort her. She knew it had always been a surprise to him how the girl, who couldn’t go a single day without checking in on someone, pushed people away from herself so far when she was down. So, when she finally came to him for a change, he made a joke if she was sure, and she almost left, causing him to roll his eyes and literally drag her back in.

Unlike him, she needed touch, warmth, and something to hug; even when she was alone, she’d hold a pillow of plushie for dear life. He was definitely uncomfortable with this, never being one to like this sort of touch, but sooner or later they fell into a familiar pattern. She started spending more nights than not, sleeping in his room wrapped in his arms. It even became a favorite pastime. Not needing to sleep, they really never felt physically tired before, so the deep desire to be drifted to sleep by the comfort of his warmth was one of the few luxuries she’s had since she’s been here. She’d occasionally wake up to find him blankly staring at her with a relaxed expression, studying her face. Which was kind of weird but also endearing if she was being honest.

However, as wholesome as that was, they were still adults. Adults with needs and wants that would be highlighted when their bodies were intwined and their kisses turned from soft to passionate. Ragatha knew Jax had always made crude jokes, but she tried to never acknowledge them before. Not until she knew they weren’t quite jokes anymore, from the way his eyes bored into her when he made them. He was testing the waters and asking if she would let him swim. Without going into detail because, well, she doesn’t think that’s possible from how she turns into a blushing, bumbling mess at even the mention of the stuff. Things between them escalated.

It was after three months of them. Ahem, as they were getting “busier.” Before the news of her lifetime came.

She wanted to tell Jax the second she found out, hop into his arms with what she believed to be great news, and have him spin her around and kiss her senseless in joy. But that wasn’t Jax; it never was, so she’s not surprised by his reaction.

“How was this even possible? This isn’t real.”’ That was the first thing Jax said to her when she told him the news Caine confirmed the day before.

Yes, not surprised, but still disappointed.

He’d finally told her what it was that helped him stay sane. He said none of this was real, and as long as he knew that, he’d be okay. She did have to admit it hurt when he said it, especially when he’d sat and “wished” it was after an intimate moment between them. Because in those moments, that was exactly what made her feel the realist. Though she did not agree and they had small spiffs about it, she let it slide because if that’s what kept him here, she really didn’t mind. Until now.

“How can this happen?” He added instantly.

Ragatha tried to laugh it off, saying, “I’m pretty sure of all people you know how this happened.”

He didn’t laugh—not even a smirk—just stare at her with a slight furrowed eyebrow and a blank expression. She frowned; she didn’t like that look, which never meant anything good. She couldn’t stand it anymore and looked away, but he didn’t. The silence got to her after a while, and she held a hand over her abdomen and said, “Caine says it's a girl.” She looks up at him to see him studying her face, like he was trying to figure out a calculus problem in his head. She looks back down at her hand and smiles softly. “I’ve always wanted a girl, you know.”

It’s silent a long time again before she hears him thump his foot hard on the ground, causing her to look up at his angry expression. She’s so shocked she couldn’t even get a word out before he marches out, saying, “I’m going to kill the mother!#$@%!" This isn’t right! How dare he do this to you!"

It takes her another moment to realize he’s not angry at her; he’s angry for her. Like Caine, had heard her dreams and took advantage of them for his entertainment. As if he did her wrong. She couldn’t see how he would think that. Ragatha was ecstatic about the news. Call her cliche, but one of her dreams since she was a child was to have a baby with the love of her life, and she did. That and to own a candy shop, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

She didn’t care about the circumstances, and she told them that eventually he was locked back in his room in a “time-out” after apparently somehow getting Caine to open the basement and pushing him in. It took her a long time, but after he accepted, she really wasn’t upset and saw how genuinely happy he was about everything. Looking forward to their baby more and more every day. He calmed down. And they mostly stopped trying to murder Caine.

No matter how much he helped or was careful with her, she knew his feelings were all messed up about everything. She had to ask him to stop saying out loud how strange all her symptoms were if she wasn’t even “really” pregnant. She knew it helped him, and maybe it was her hormones, but she really couldn’t put up with things like she used to. Especially when the father of her child keeps telling her that the aches, pains, and literal kicks growing inside her every day aren't “real.” Not a single soul couldn't tell her this was real. She knew what she felt; she was going to be a mother. No one could deny that.

As much as Jax was grossed out, he was there for the whole birth, allowing Ragatha to practically crush his gloved hand into cartoon silt. He joked more than usual, she supposed, because he was nervous. It was comforting to see that the only other people in the room were medical staff. Ai’s Caine had no faces and could somehow still talk. It was beyond creepy, but Ragatha barely had time to complain. She tried to have Pomni and Gangle come as her best friends, but Ponmi instantly fainted the moment the doctor went to check on her. Jax rolled his eyes, calling her a surprisingly bigger wimp than Gangle, who had to physically drag the other girl out. Ragatha was still happy; she tried her best when she warned that this might happen.

Their daughter was finally born, and Ragatha happily cried at how beautiful she was holding the newborn to herself, like she was the most precious thing in the world. Which she was.

As ironic as it was, they named her Marionette when they finally got to see her for the first time. They had other names planned, but for the little purple pastel rabbit girl with the sweetest curls on her head, who looked like a custom doll, the name was all too fitting.

She was everything Ragatha wanted and more. Her pupils were the cutest little blue buttons; she had no nose, but still, her face was mostly human-looking. Her fur was as soft as a real rabbit, like Jax, and the itty-bitty curls on her head matched Ragatha. She hushed her baby as she cried until she calmed down. Fianlly was able to kiss her head and feel her warmth and breath against her. She was finally able to hold her beautiful baby, which had been growing inside her for the last nine months. She was a mother; this was her baby, she had made out of love. Nothing could ever change that.

Jax, though looking fondly at them, snapped her out of her thought, saying, “Jesus, Ragatha. How are you crying louder than a literal baby? That’s the only thing she knows how to do.”

She laughs at that. “Okay, okay, that’s fair. But, just look at her, Jax!”

“I am,” he said, but there was something about him she only noticed now. He may have had a lazy smile on his face, but his whole body was tense as a slab of stone, and he was standing only as close to her as possible to not cause suspicion. His arms were tightly crossed at his chest, like he was scared to touch anything.

A frown slowly went to her lips, devastation coming over her. “What’s wrong?”

He looks like he desperately wants to say something, but still looking at Marionette with an unreadable expression, he says, “Nothing you’d want to hear in the moment.” When he looks up at Ragatha and lets out a sigh, forcing himself to calm down by reading her mind, he says, “I’ll tell you later. I promise… It has nothing to do with you two. It’s me.”

Searching him like she figures out everything with a blink of his eyes, she accepts that whatever it is, he means it. It’s not about them. “Would you like to hold her?" Ragatha asks without thinking.

Jax's eyes widen, but he looks at the little girl again, and then at Ragatha, with a shit-eating grin stretching back on his face. “I mean, I think I deserve it after all the pain I went through today. Seriously, sitting in that chair so long with my hand, ooh, aaah, that's got to be the worst pain I’ve ever felt. They should really do something to make things more comfortable for the people doing the hard work."

Her face is deadpan before he even finishes, and though she’s happy he’s joking, she is too tired to deal with his nonsense right now. “Will you please just hold your damn child and shut up?"

Jax laughs; she uses one of the few words that passes the censors and moves over to grab the half-sleeping baby. "Yeah, yeah, lemmie, finally see this twerpet up close.”

"I’m going to hurt you. I mean it.” She says holding on to the baby a little longer before he coaxes her to hand her over.

"Alright, let’s take a look at you,” he says as the baby shifts a little, opening her eyes a bit more. He looks over her a little intensely, but still with a softer expression than before. He comments and jokes every once in a while about which features are his and which are Ragatha's, but for the most part, he stays silent. As much as she wants to hold her baby again, she is more tired than she’s ever been in her life and decides to let her eyes drift shut as she watches him be more soft with her than she’s ever seen.

She’s a second away from sleep when she sees her baby's tiniest little hand wrap around his finger, and the saddest look fills his face as a tear falls down. She was unable to keep her eyes open any longer. But there is one last moment before her world turns to black; she unmistakably hears him. A whisper of desperation: “Why can’t you be real?”

[generalluxun]

Fanfic Author 20 Questions

Thanks to @erisluna35 for sending this along! 1. How many works do you have on AO3?

On AO3? Right now 63, soon to be 64(tomorrow probably) and a couple on FF.net

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,020,860 on AO3 plus another ~86K fic I never ported over to AO3, as my 'recent' stuff, starting back in 2021

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Miraculous Ladybug, I did others a long time ago before joining AO3, but that was a long time ago. I've considered a couple others recently too, but nothing yet.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

At The Gala- A Chlonette fic inspired by fanart, and actually the sequel to my #2 by Kudos. This is just a cute series of strange interactions with Chloe from Marinette's PoV, culminating in understanding and discovery on a fated evening.

Slippery slope- Little Chlonette ficlet inspired by a fanart. Very short, it's about how a single unexpected moment can change someone's entire world.

Ever After- A long chapter fic set more than a decade post-canon that looks into the idea that 'Ever After' can be a long time, and that expecting life to be solved at 14 is a recipe for eventual disaster. Yet at the same time life continues to offer new experiences, new possibilities, and new ways to grow. Ships include Adrienette, Chloadrien, and Felinette.

Showing Love- An alternate ending to Queen Wasp, where instead of reuniting Chloé with her horrible mother by highlighting everything horrible about her (seriously, what?) Marinette comes face to face with the reality that a mother really *can* not love a child. Being Marinette she can't let such a thing stand, even if it is Chloé. Marinette&Dupain-Cheng family goodness.

What Do you See?- Adrigami fic that kicks off right in the middle of Kuro Neko. While Adrien is struggling with the pain of giving up Cat Noir, one thing crosses his mind. He can finally give one important person the truth she deserves. After all, he *Was* Cat Noir, not *is*. The two both struggle to navigate the ramifications of this revelation, especially when Plagg shows up once more with the ring. (there's a little bit of eventual Lukanette)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to most, especially any questions or curiosities. I love engagement.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh heck this is so not fair. I am in love with bittersweet ending, and have a couple of doozies.

I can't decide between three.

What Happened- The 'real reason' Chloé Bourgeois's redemption arc failed. What do you di when you do everything right, only to find out your happiness causes the end of the world, in every timeline?

A Modest Proposal- Marinette is happily impatient for Adrien to finally propose to her. Little does she know, a secret long kept is going to come back to haunt her. It's worse than you think.

The Risk Outweighs- A look into someone else's life during the episode 'Risk'. The courage to do anything finally gives Chloé the strength to break from the cycle. But the Ladybugs must set things right, and a few moments of clarity weigh nothing against a lifetime.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, lots with happy endings, though I prefer 'open' endings, so...hmmm

Cafe Noir- has an unambiguously happy ending, but I specifically set out to write a romcom so that feels like cheating.

Dog Daze- probably has the most comprehensively happy ending, Adrien's dad even managed to try to parent. They do go through a lot on the way to the happy ending though.

In Direct Opposition- My latest work, seems to end on a solidly happy note for all involved.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Ever After drew some upset people that expected their OTP to be the main ship. I never tried to deceive anyone, but a few people were just really upset.

I also had this weird thing where someone thought I was someone else, and stalked my comments for a while. That's why I use moderation now.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I've done M rated fics. I'm not sure 'smut' works for them, even if there's lots of sex narratively, it's usually mentioned rather than being detailed. I did one single 'this will be a smut fic' fic. And even that ended up with like, 5K words mostly plot, and about 2 paragraphs of (I think emotional and important) sex.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah, I've never had the crossover itch. I generally find each world intriguing enough on their own.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yep! I had someone ask if they could translate one of my fics to Russian.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope. Talked about it before, but never went through with it. Not against the idea. I do a lot of rubber ducking for my friends though, so some of my ideas can end up in their finished fics.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I'm going ot have to go with adribrina, my goobers. I like exploring all kinds of ships, and these two I threw together on a whim but Oh, they're so comfy! I wrote Puppy Love to see how they would work, and then that evolved into Dog Daze, my Largest work to date. I had *intended* for them to amicably break up and Sabrina to be a wing-woman to Adrien in the canon ship of Adrienette.... but they just did not want to break up. Even if they wouldn't admit they were dating, they were just too *comfy* together. These two make me happy. (Marinette ended up okay though, she's happy!)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

A third fic in my Senti-Sentai AU. 'Worlds Collide'. It was set in 'vague eastern Europe country in the middle of violent conflict' and then that suddenly got too real, too quickly.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Character voice. I write third person limited, and I've been told many times that I do a very good job of writing characters as their canonical selves, just in different situations that bring about different outcomes or changes in them. I consider that a high compliment, because the characters are what I am here for.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Brevity. Even simplistic plots 'enemies to friends road trip' become detailed 'Marinette manipulates Chloé into chasing Adien and Lila across the globe to prevent Lila from wheedling an arranged Marriage out of Gabriel' and then that blossoms into a 98K fic.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I feel like my last of understanding grammar and colloquialisms for another language would have me sounding like bad google translate. Singular words used? Viable.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

SWATKats. My first ever fanfic was a 30K fic about that show.

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

They are all my babies! This is so not fair. I've spoken about some of my favorites earlier though, so I'll use this spot to mention some other ones :)

He's Perfect- Gothic Horror Adrienette! It even has a sequel and an entire AU in my head if I can circle back.

The Orphan and the Marionette- Written to feel like one of Grimm's fairy tales. Chlonette(kind of) with a heavy dose of magic and a surprise appearance from Marianne.

There are so many more but I'll plug Dog Daze again, because I to like how it flows and the alternate S5 we get from it. It also inspired a raft of 'post story' one shots, and I have another chapter fic waiting in the wings to continue the AU. There's plenty of stories to tell here.

@taketwoinink Tag, if you would like to play.

[phantomskeep]

Chapter Breakdown: Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral" C3

HIHIHIHI!! I'm going to be breaking down some parts of my Dead on Main fic's, Putting the "Fun" Back in "Funeral", third chapter. This one was a doozy to write and I kind of wanted to break it down and put out my thought process behind a few things? It seemed like fun and honestly I need a writing warm-up haha.

Anyways, onto Chapter Three: Emotional Constipation has Never Been Easier!

This chapter opens up with Danny zooming out of the Ghost Zone and into his home dimension. It has a scene where he's flying above the cloudbed before dropping down past the storm clouds in a way that is vaguely reminiscent of skydiving, or jumping off of buildings (in like a heroic way nOT IN LIKE A IM GOING SIX FEET UNDER WAY). "Phantom, why did you put this in here?" Well, I wanted to give a little nod to "Into the Spider-verse"! This story has some of the same themes - a superhero coming of age while traveling across dimensions. Having Danny give gravity the middle finger was one way I knew I could sneak that little hint in there, and I think it turned out pretty well! The storm, on the other hand, was just written in there because while I was writing the chapter a thunderstorm was brewing. There was a lot of dramatic lightning flashes and I thought it would be visually appealing (readingly appealing??) to slap that in there!

"Wow Phantom, Danny had a very depressing childhood!" Yeah, yeah he did. This is a bit of a coming of age fic combined with a slowburn romance and healing fic. Danny's childhood wasn't easy - something that IS canon - and having him actually have to think about how his parents failed him helps brew the distrust Danny has in them. The idea of "knowledge is power" combined with how they act equals Danny expecting failure on their part. He has come to fully believe his parents don't care about him or Jazz. "... not noticing their greatest failure hovering in front of their greatest success" Danny thinks he is his parent's greatest failure, despite him literally dying in order to get their "greatest success" to actually work. It's a simple truth, thought maybe a bit misguided, that Danny values in his life. Showing that Danny has been hurt by his parents' inventions, neglect, and actions just drive this deeper.

"Is Danny immortal?" Wellllll yes but no but yes. Danny can still be killed, don't get me wrong, but he's going to be aging at a slower rate. This is brought up in C3 during Danny's talk with his Ghostly Therapy support group - and something that will be brought up again. Accepting the fact that Danny, who has strong ties to the Human and Ghost worlds, will outlive at least one side of himself is something he struggles with. This is a large part of the "coming of age" story arc.

"Jason and Dick have such a great relationship, but he seems to have some issues with the rest of the Batfam, what gives?" Well! When I was growing up I was able to read some of the original Batman and Detective comics - meaning my first impression of Jason was that he was a redheaded circus boy. In those comics Dick was actually able to pass down the Robin mantle himself, Bruce was emotionally competent, and the three of them had a great relationship. With that in mind, I love to see Dick and Jason actually be brothers. They're my favorite duo AND they have a great parallel to Danny. Pulling from the "greatest failure and greatest success" vibes from Danny's thoughts on his parents plus the portal, if you compare that to Robin #1 and #2, you have Bruce's greatest success (Dick, who is a strong leader, good sibling, and manages to VERY RARELY act out in mindless anger) and compare that to his greatest failure (Jason, who he wasn't able to save, who he thought killed a man, who died only to come back so much differently) it draws a wonderful parallel of life and death. In like a vague way. But! Jason needs someone in his corner and Dick is that man. Because we're going old school, baby!

"Jason's POV was very short this chapter" Yup, it was. The main point of Jason's POV was to show that he was okay after being all loopy and that his relationship with Dick's is different than what is the current DC canon. I did this over Thai food and dragon movies for uh... totally no reason. Whatsoever. No foreshadowing and plot thickening here. Just... happy dragons, happy boys, and comfort food :)

"What's up with Danny's outfit change?" Legit I just gave him the kingly outfit for plot reasons. It'll be important later on - trust me - but for now accept that he's a cute little starboy. I have some concept pictures in regards to why I chose what I did, but unfortunately it's kind of spoiler-y :(

"Wow! The Ghost Zone is really changing!" It is!! Many people pointed out in C1 how Danny's coronation carried weight to it, how you all could tell it was important. And it was, and the GZ changing is just showing more of that weight. I've pretty much spent the past three chapters laying together the groundwork and foreshadowing to just what being the Ghost King means to Danny. Part of that is healing the GZ and making it better for his people. The Keep changing (and wow I love being able to name-drop myself in my fics) is only a small part of the reconstruction the GZ is going under. It's great and I'm super excited!!

"Why did you mention the tapestries?" WELL, if you follow me on this hellsite you might remember a post I made a while ago about spending hours creating a political atmosphere for the GZ! The tapestry is hinting at the politics behind the dead, important plot points in the future, and why the Realm is changing. I want you guys to be able to keep reading this fic and have an "oh!" moment where you put the pieces together.

"Oh my god Danny's rich" - said by Faust/Aerois, my lovely beta. Yes, Danny is rich. In my opinion there's already enough fics out there where Danny has to survive on the streets which is something I'm not really looking to do on here. It's also a plotpoint! Keep in mind that Danny's got that great amount of wealth :)

"I love the line Goin' Gotham" SAME THO! It's also me being sneaky and referencing the collection "Going Gotham" on AO3, which is full of DPxDC fics that I love. Also Danny is a dork and he would totally say that because he is a dumb little babyman and I love him.

Anyways, that's it for the chapter breakdown! I'm hoping to do more of these in the future though I can't say I will be doing them for every chapter I post. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and the breakdown :D

[mostlydeadallday]

Lost Kin | Chapter XI | Best and Brightest

Fandom: Hollow Knight Rating: Mature Characters: Hornet, Pure Vessel/Hollow Knight Category: Gen Content Warnings: dehumanization, infection, body horror AO3: Lost Kin Chapter XI | Best and Brightest First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Notes: As I mentioned last month, going forward this fic will update on a bi-weekly schedule, most likely on Sundays. This was a fun interlude to write. A brief change of scenery did wonders for both me and Hornet. Much as I enjoy writing hurt/comfort, sometimes a little bit of a breather is in order. Don't worry—it's back in full force in the next chapter. Also, I broke 50k while I was on vacation, and I'm diving into chapter 20 this evening. It's a doozy. waggles eyebrows

○

Hornet breathed easier as soon as she stepped out the door. The fresh, damp air enfolded her, rain running down her neck and under her cloak. The light stung her eyes in a way that let her know she had been inside too long.

Much as she wanted to set off into the city right away, she made herself stand at the door and listen, half-dreading a noise from inside the house, some indication that she would have to go back inside.

Nothing. It seemed her orders were working—for the moment.

She sighed in relief and pulled out her needle, stringing it with silk and knotting it tight. With a flick of her wrist, she flung it toward the low roof of the cavern, and when it struck an anchor point she leapt after it, silk thrumming, rain splattering her mask, wet cloak snapping behind.

Kicking her feet out and tucking her head spun her midair, and the shock of landing on the roof sent a pleasant ache through her legs. Breathless, she laughed, digging her heel spurs in between the wet stones, and sighted her needle, casting it farther down into the city.

The pressure in her head eased the farther she got from the house, the speed of her flight and the sweetness of the breeze driving it away like smoke. She was soaked within minutes, but couldn’t bring herself to mind, not with the wide, hazy expanse of the city beneath her. The relief of open space scratched at the restless itch that had been burrowing beneath her shell, and the cold numbness of the air soothed the aching heat of anxiety in her head. She had sunk into her own mind in the mansion, her thoughts eating away at her like acid. She needed this—the thrill of motion, the steadiness of purpose. She needed to move.

The elation faded after a half hour or so, her more usual hunting mood settling in—cautious and aware, sensitive to every sound and shift in the landscape. She aimed for King’s Station, keeping to the higher reaches of the cavern, where all but the flying husks could not go. Past the elevators, past the monument square and the Pleasure Houses, she landed on an upper ledge with a wet skritch and stopped to catch her breath.

She could see all the way to the outskirts of the city, the elegant spires of apartments and official buildings interrupted by broad causeways and drainage ditches, the wide dome of the Soul Sanctum no bigger than her fist from here. A few husks shambled across the street below her, so far away that she could almost pretend she was alone.

A faint pinprick of guilt surfaced in her stomach. She sighed, shaking rainwater from her mask. She couldn’t help but imagine the knight alone in that dreary room, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the sound of her footsteps outside the door.

Not that they could feel lonely. She had no reason to pity them. Not after she had spent nearly all night watching them sleep, nervous that her question had set something off in them, yet reluctant to leave in case they attempted to come after her again.

She had eventually slept herself, but her eyes still felt gritty. And she had decided once she woke that she had put off leaving as long as she could; she couldn’t conscience being without soul for much longer, especially not if she might have to defend herself against them.

She had checked their wounds this morning, as well as she could without moving them. The swelling had continued to recede from the areas surrounding the nail-wounds, beginning to show the scarred shell beneath, and she’d been so distracted by her own relief that it took her a moment to notice what was wrong.

The places where she had noticed warped chitin had been overtaken by orange. The infection had grown overnight, new blisters budding between their chest plates, and the sight made her sick, enough that she had to step away for a moment. That had been another reason to leave—she needed time to remind herself that she was strong, that she was in control. That the prickling panic in her thorax would fade.

Your mind is your own. Your fight is your own. Your will is your own.

She had to do something, and soon, if she hoped to save them.

Why did she hope to save them?

Hornet ground her teeth, turning away from the cityscape to wind up her spare thread. After they had been unable to answer her questions last night, she had less hope that they would be useful to her. Perhaps she could tease information out of them eventually, but it would be maddeningly slow. Better to go investigate herself, leave them to the fate she had only momentarily delayed.

She ducked into the building, pushing the thoughts aside for later. No matter what she decided, she still needed food and soul.

King’s Station was a huge, echoing hall with a lofty glass ceiling, darkened doorways splitting off toward nearly a dozen stag stations. She had never ridden a stag—the nobles had looked down from their curtained palanquins and declared them a crude method of transport—but she had seen this place once in its heyday, the vaulted terminal lit with a thousand flickering lanterns and bustling with bugs of all shapes and sizes, carting luggage or trade goods or squalling hatchlings. It was a labyrinth of hallways, mostly dark now, littered with empty shells and broken benches.

That maze-like quality made it the best hunting ground the City had to offer. Husks wandered in from the large exterior exits and lost their way in the dark passages, becoming so confused that they were easy to creep up on or skewer from a distance.

She scored a horned husk and three vengeflies within the first half hour, filling her primary reservoir with the wine-sweet trickle of soul. She field-dressed the husk and ate a vengefly, cracking through its shell with her mandibles to get at the plump abdomen beneath. Not a civilized meal, but fresher than jerky.

Once she had enough meat, she mechanically swept the rest of the terminal, filling her secondary reservoirs. Killing was no joy, especially when the infection made it so easy. She had long since stopped feeling remorse for the husks. Nothing she or anyone else could do would cure them of corruption; better to rob the Radiance of another puppet than let them continue to live a half-life, tortured by the mad heat of their dreams.

Laden with a knapsack full of meat and canisters of soul, she left the station on foot; traveling by silk was too difficult while she carried this much weight. She traversed the upper ledges, nimbly avoiding the great husks, and dropped down into the monument square, stopping to breathe while the rain pelted her from above.

She looked up and met the gaze of the Hollow Knight.

The statue stared into her, through her, the caverns of its empty eye sockets pointed at the exact spot where she stood, and she was pinned beneath it, head tilted up like one of the nameless, masked citizens that surrounded it in adoration.

She hadn’t noticed before, but the statue was perfectly to scale, the contours of its mask and the angle of its horns an exact replica, and she wondered idly if the real knight had modeled for it, or if the sculptor had worked from a drawing. It would be hard to capture their likeness this precisely from anything but life—as loosely as that term could be applied.

The rain slid down the statue’s face, dropping from the point of its mask to the plaque below, where the channels of the carven runes caught and held it, making the letters dance and glimmer in the light.

Memorial to the Hollow Knight.

She walked forward slowly, almost reverently, and placed her hand on the stone, tracing the contours of the word knight.

She had never thought it strange that the Pure Vessel had been knighted. It had seemed natural, to hold them to the same oaths that the Pale King’s greatest warriors swore, to give them the same title.

Yet why would an empty thing need a title? Why would they need a code of honor? Why would they need anything more than her father’s word?

Perhaps it had been for show. A reassurance for Hallownest’s citizens. But that brought the rest of the knights into focus, made her wonder how many of their number had been involved in this elaborate posturing, how many of their appointments had been political or personal, rather than recognition of loyalty and skill.

Her memories of them were bittersweet, tainted with the knowledge of their fates. One after another, they had fallen to infection or trickery or betrayal, and her father had never acknowledged their losses, consumed with his efforts to ready the Pure Vessel. It had been a slow slide into disaster—and now even the Pure Vessel had failed, and the knighthood was truly no more.

This entire kingdom only existed because of her father. Because of his power, his sacrifices. He had a right to do what he wished with its denizens. But the knights had devoted themselves to him, and he had used them up and cast them aside, allowing ordinary beings to pay for the sins of their gods. And they had done it without a single token of approval, without a glimmer of recognition or affection from the Higher Being they had pledged themselves to.

Her father would have been the first to consign the Hollow Knight to death for their failure. Not as a punishment, simply because they ceased to be of use. But remembering how the knights had sacrificed their very lives for his blessing, remembering the way she had ached watching him, longing for the moment he would look her way, beckon to her, give her something of himself to grasp onto, she felt a chill she could not blame on the rain.

Her hand slid from the plaque. The word knight suddenly looked like a pittance, a single geo dropped into the hand of a beggar, worthless now, yet something dozens of warriors had once given their all to obtain.

What was it but another way in which the Pale King demanded worship? What was it but a token to bind his subjects closer to him?

It cost him nothing.

It had cost the knights everything.

Even Hallownest’s best and brightest were never good enough for its king.

But she was not her father. And Hallownest was not what it had once been.

She had scolded herself for succumbing to sentiment. And yet all living creatures were irrational, in their own ways. Perhaps caring for the vessel, pointless as the endeavor was, would teach her something about herself. Perhaps she needed the opportunity to put something right. To beat the odds. To show herself that she could.

Perhaps what this kingdom needed was a little more sentiment.

Hornet bowed her head beneath the rain. The square was lonely, even more so than the rest of the city, presided over by the silent, towering statue. But it was a watchful loneliness, a place that felt observed, an empty presence that demanded recognition and respect.

The longer she lived, the more she realized that she would never understand Hallownest. She was still uncovering it, day by day, ruin by ruin, and it kept on evoking feelings and revelations in her that she barely understood.

Her father’s influence, still lingering. Godling she might be, but she had more than a touch of mortal in her blood, and mortals were born to worship.

Not that there was anything left to worship. Hallownest’s god had abandoned it. A half-god would have to do.

Hitching the strap of her knapsack higher, she trudged out of the plaza and back toward the mansion.

By the time she reached the outskirts, she was tired again, disgruntled, ready for a warm drink, a change of clothes—

Her shoulders sagged. She had ripped up her spare cloak. It was little more than tatters now, certainly nothing she wanted to wear. It was wet clothes or nothing, and the city was too cold for either.

She pulled out her needle and kicked down the rotting door of the nearest house, pausing a moment in the dark entry to allow her eyes to adjust and wait for any enemies to declare themselves. Hearing nothing, she stepped in.

This house was in a much worse state than the one she had chosen, and smaller, too, without a single room her sibling could have lain down in. The curtains, though, were pristine, and she ripped down as many panels as she thought she could carry, letting more light into the ruined parlor than it had seen in centuries.

This was far more than she’d need, but it wasn’t heavy. And it was enough for three cloaks, so she’d have more than one spare.

Or one small cloak, and one large.

As she threw the new fabric over her shoulder, something rustled on the floor. She stepped back, leaving wet footprints on the pages scattered over the flagstones. Mostly empty, a few scrawled with notes that were too full of numbers to be interesting.

Without quite knowing why, she leaned down to pick up a handful. They, too, were well-preserved, and into the knapsack they went. She’d never had a use for paper before, but apparently it was a day for giving in to her impulses.

Hefting the fabric back up onto her shoulder, she braced herself and walked back out into the wet.

[scoops404]

consciousness streaming ! (i love saying this it just makes everything sound more dramatic, like it's out of a medieval times movie idk)

but anyway, i have finished reading inffqth

and altho im not crying anymore, i did cry through like, chapters, 10 to 12, maybe more in 11 and 12, but specially 11

i said this dream was beautiful, and i still mean it, probs even more now that i saw him completely, i have like, a list with my favorite dream's in fanfics and urs just kicked everybody to be number one

this george too,,, god how much i wanted to fight him, at some point i said out loud how i was gonna take that "stupid" box of feeling and throw it on a river so he finally opens up, but honestly, i probs got mad at him bcs he was taking decisions i would have also taken

when he was talking abt how he was too much and nobody wanted that, i was like "ok well no need to attack me like that"

but im so happy they got to solve it in a non tiring way? like usually the communication just goes the wrong way or never happens and it gets so frustrating, like just TALK alr pls

+ very random but when this scene happened

—"George," Dad says with a nod.

—"Dad," he says back, "Drive safe." Another nod,

LISTEN I, i wanted to be petty, i wanted george to say "Jim." just out of spite, ik it doesn't change a lot but in my way of seeing it it would have been funny but petty iguess

i have like, many more screenshots of the story, since i cant ever reread a whole fic cus i hate knowing what's gonna happen, but at the same time i love rereading bits of it so pictures it is, kinda sad i can't like, send them here all marked up like they do with printed-out books, i like doing that a lot

ALSO, gotta give the biggest kudo's trophy to kate, even though she was the one making me cry cus jfc why is she such a nice and healthy mom, she was so understanding and caring and god, building her a pedestal, she deserves it

i think ur way of writing a parent k worded me, reading kate just suddenly made me think of these exact dream and george as parents and my brain shut down, i really thought "god a kid fic of scoops would totally destroy me" (i am very weak for kid fics, have a soft spot for them)

now i am probably gonna read iwywah, (cus i realized ive read everything else of urs thats dnf and that's the only fic left) and ill probs cry again, who knows,

scoops just really going for that "makes readers cry" trophy smh /lh

anyway, again, thank u for writing this

also saw that u mentioned u have a friend that's like this dream and im so happy for u!! u seem to be deserving of lots of nice things, sending love to u guys :] <3

I almost forgot to answer you because i was just staring in wonder at this ask--I love it!

Chapter 11 was a doozy, don't blame you for crying there. lots of growth and realizations and decisions. I'm so glad you still love my Dream. As for George here, I'll admit, he's hard to love for a while, but that's mostly because I see myself in him so much (like you said, same decisions I would make) and I want to bang his head against a wall (or in this case, his mother).

The thing about his dad in this fic-- like chapter 11 got completely re-written because it disappear on me, yeah? well, the original chapter dealt way more with his dad. George and Neve go straight to Brighton first instead of London to Kate, and George has an awkward encounter with the new lady friend where we realize, she's just a woman and just as messed up about all this as everyone else and it really humanized his dad and the whole situation but when is got deleted, I was like okay this is a sign. This story is not about George's family that much, like it's about Dream and George getting together and this is a fun side trip and sheds more light on things, but at the end of the day, we didn't need that light.

I think it's so cute you screenshot your favorite parts! My friend (the dream friend) does this and every once in awhile will send me an unhinged screenshot from a fandom im not in and it takes me out.

I love Kate in this fic, she's my fave. I'm proud of how she turned out and how real she seems. Definitely not perfect (in the epilogue where she tells everyone but george about the guy she's dating--proof that it's harder to change than we realize, but she apologizes to george and makes it right), but the kind of adult I want to be as I age--not afraid of life but living it. I guess I did some projecting there.

If I ever write a kid fic, I will count on your kudos, lol. I've thought about a non-traditional one but I'm not ready to commit yet.

Let me know how you like "Accomplice" I uh think you're going to have some more family feels in that one. I think i have themes I like to explore.

Thank you for your beautiful message--sending you all the positive vibes and good things <3

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 58

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 2,958

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

*HIATUS WARNING* 

I want to give y’all a heads up that there will be one more chapter update next Friday (June 25th), but after that I will be taking a mini hiatus during the month of July. I’m planning to join Camp Nano, and so rather than spending time each week editing and posting, I want to focus as much energy as I can on binge-writing some new chapters and seeing if I can outline a potential path towards an ending for this fic. I’m aiming to start posting weekly again at the end of July, if things go according to plan. 

I feel bad doing this, but I’m also proud as hell of myself for giving y’all 9 weeks of consistent updates. I also think taking a month break from updates to map out the direction I want ID to end up in and trying to write as much of it as I can during Camp Nano, so that y’all can then continue to get weekly updates (hopefully until it’s over), is a fair trade-off. So please don’t hate me *sweats* 

That being said, this chapter sets up what will be a doozy of a next chapter, so buckle up.

We Need to Talk

When arriving back down on the third floor, you decided to make a quick pit stop at your room to gather a change of clothes and soap before heading to the shower room to refresh. Sure, you could’ve used Negan’s shower, which would’ve been much more luxurious, but you didn’t want to impede his morning anymore than you already had. Sometimes you forgot how much he had on his plate, but the almost constant interruptions and calls for him to attend meetings and supply runs were reminders that, unlike you, he couldn’t do whatever he wanted for the first half of the day. 

Also, if you were being extra honest, your emotions were in a bit of turmoil from the rollercoaster ride of events last night and this morning. He had gone cold on you last night, shutting down and not wanting to discuss the supply run or even really be touched. And while he still had felt emotionally a bit distant this morning, the physical distance had definitely been lifted. However, you still weren’t sure how to react to him brushing off your offer to talk things out, and needed some time away from him today to gather your thoughts.

Showered and refreshed, you folded Negan’s green shirt and tucked it into your bin of clothes. Much as you wanted to wear it all day, you also didn’t want to get any stains on it while working. Leaving your room, you took a different route through the compound, rounding a few corners and entering a section of the third floor hallway on the opposite side of the building, where Ben’s room was located. You had told him yesterday in the kitchens that you’d speak with him today, and what better time than now. Breakfast was over, and there was still a few hours before dinner prep, so hopefully he’d be free and expecting you.

When he opened his door and saw you standing there, his face lit up. Since his roommate was also in the room, you both decided to go outside and find a spot where there were no listening ears. The sun was bright and intense, and Ben immediately wandered around back of the Sanctuary, towards the gardens. Walking among the rows of plants, you watched as he stopped here and there to check out some of the tomato plants and fresh herbs, before diving into conversation. Since you didn’t want to hog the time with Negan worries, you instead started with a more lighthearted topic. 

Checking for the dozenth time to make sure no one was within hearing distance, you said, “Soooo, you and Simon? I want details. Spill.”

Ben’s cheeks flushed, perhaps partially from the hot sun but most likely because of the mention of the tall, cheerful Savior who had been taking up so much of his free time. You had already noticed Simon stopping by the kitchen “to check in” more than needed when Negan was gone, but you listened intently as Ben told you about the afternoon he had randomly joined in on making the chocolate cake for you and Negan’s date. You unsuccessfully tried to stifle a giggle when Ben said how he had almost dropped the cake ingredients about a dozen times out of nervousness. The oblivious fool had still been convinced Simon had no interest at that point, and thought he just liked messing around with Ben’s head and seeing him act out of sorts. Your chuckling turned to a shocked gasp when he recounted how Simon had then made his intentions very obvious by pressing the shorter man into the kitchen counter and tracing Ben’s lips with leftover chocolate icing before kissing him. Ben didn’t give many more details, but you had a feeling that more than just the oven had heated up after that.

“Damn, your first kiss involved chocolate?! I gotta give it to him, the man’s got moves,” you marveled. If that was how he treated a first kiss, then you almost couldn’t contain your excitement for Ben with whatever Simon came up with involving the fudge brownie advice you had provided. 

“Does he have his own room you can go to, like Negan does?” you asked, unsure what the setup for the Saviors was. 

“No,” Ben said with a grumble. “He has a roommate, like I do, but sometimes he’s out on night shift watching the perimeter fences. I’ve been able to go up and see him on those evenings, but otherwise he just uh...comes to see me in the kitchen after dinner is over.” 

Ben’s blush grew deeper at that confession, and you wished there was a way for him and Simon to have more private time. Perhaps you could ask Negan about it, see if Simon could be promoted to a single room. You tucked the idea away for later, and asked another pivotal question.

“Do you want to continue sneaking around with him, or do the two of you want to be more open about things?” 

Ben shrugged and stared at the tomato plants, but you could tell the gears in his brain were turning, the same way yours did when considering the same question in relation to Negan. 

“We’ve discussed it a little, and while part of me is hesitant to shout how I’m feeling from the rooftops, if things continue being this great with him then I...I wouldn’t want to keep hiding it.” He looked up at you then. “I just wouldn’t want anyone to treat me differently, if they knew. Not that I expect everyone to be happy about it, but...I don’t want to hide who I am, even if an apocalypse hasn’t suddenly made everyone accepting of seeing a relationship like ours.”

You felt a twinge of hurt for Ben, as well as anger that he had an extra social obstacle to loving whoever he wanted. An obstacle that made zero sense and spoke to what fucked up societal norms humans had created. 

Making sure to hold his eye contact, you said firmly, “If anyone gives you crap about it, anyone at all, they’ll have me, Simon, and Negan to deal with.” When he gave a skeptical quirk of his brow, you added, “Perks of being best friends with the boss lady, remember?” 

He finally smiled at the reference to what he had said in the kitchen the other day, about having immunity from Negan’s wrath due to his being close to you. Some of the tension left him, and he silently pondered for a bit, before the conversation shifted in an unsurprising direction.

“So,” he said, tone becoming more serious. “Your turn. How are things with you and the boss man?”

Letting out a sigh, you caught Ben up on the events of the last few days, including him shutting down about what happened on the supply run and your overwhelming need to know where things were going. You left out the conversation with Maria for now, wanting to focus on your direct interactions with Negan first. Ben had been drawing patterns with his shoe in the dirt while listening intently, and let out a low whistle when you finished. 

After a few moments of silence, as if he was trying to decide which information to attack first, he asked, “So you said about him pulling away and shutting down, but what about you? Have you been open all the time with him, or shutting down as well?”

Damnit, you thought. Of course he’d hit the nail right on the head and call you out. One look at your face and he knew the answer, his lips curling into a humorless, lopsided grin. 

“You gotta talk it out with him, asap.”

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, kicking at a rock. You then told him about Amber’s mini meltdown, and how the wives were aware of you being the reason he had stopped sleeping with them.

“Um, okay, yea. You really need to have a talk with him. Like an epic, “clear your schedule for the evening because this is gonna take a while” level of talk.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snarked, feeling defensive even though he was telling you exactly what you already knew. 

“Hey, if I can get Simon to sit still and focus long enough to talk about our expectations of the other and what we’re looking for, then so can you.” At your look of surprise, he nodded. “Yep, we did that the other night. We both wanted to make sure the other wasn’t just in it for a fun but unemotional time, which thank god we aren’t. Despite acting like nothing ever bothers him, he’s a surprisingly sensitive and romantic kinda guy.” 

You grinned happily at that. Thank goodness you could cross “Richardo-stab Simon if he ends up being a shallow fuck boy” off the list of things to stress over. 

“You make a conversation like that sound so easy. What’s the secret?”

Giving a light shrug, as if the answer should be obvious, he said, “Honestly, the secret is that once you realize the other person likes you enough to wanna sit down and talk through any concerns or hesitancy, it is easy. You’ve gotta stop overanalyzing it.” He gave a sarcastic look and added, “Something I know you struggle with. But if Negan cares about you as much as it sounds like he does, then he’d want to talk to you as his equal and put your worries to rest, discuss both of your expectations and compromise where needed. If he’s not willing to do those things then...well...I hate to say it, but he’s not worth your time, and he doesn’t deserve someone as amazing as you at his side.” 

Your chest warmed at that last compliment, at the same time that your stomach dropped a bit at the thought of Negan not doing those things and turning you away. It sounded so obvious and simple when Ben laid it out like that, and in all honesty, you were finally starting to believe that Negan did indeed care about you enough to want to talk out any issues. 

However, there was still that part of you that was drowning in self-doubt, that was terrified he’d shut down and refuse to discuss any emotion-based topics, which would cause you to shut down as well. And you agreed with Ben when he said you deserved better if that’s how Negan responded…but it wasn’t just the fear of knowing for certain if Negan was worthy of you. It was also the fear of whether or not Negan thought you were worthy enough of him to talk openly with you, to compromise. If you told him that you wanted to be exclusive, that he couldn’t have sex with the wives or anyone else if he wanted to be with you, would he agree? If you said you wanted to officially be with him, despite not even knowing what label was appropriate to put on it, would he also want that? 

Seeming to know that you had a lot to think about, Ben stayed silent, the two of you walking side by side along the garden rows. After a few long minutes, you finally bumped his shoulder with yours and said thanks. He smiled in return and then promptly turned the conversation to more light-hearted topics. An hour later, and the two of you were laughing while walking back inside the Sanctuary and down the hall towards the kitchen for dinner prep. 

~  ~  ~  ~ ~

As if aware of the importance of the evening, dinner seemed to fly by. Before you knew it, the last empty plates had been brought back for the dish washers, and most of the other kitchen staff had left.

A glance at your watch showed that you had about seven minutes to get upstairs to Negan’s room, if you wanted to make the 7:30 deadline. Grabbing the two bowls of deer meat and veggie stew, you nuked them in the microwave and put them on a tray with a water pitcher, cups, and wrapped silverware. The remaining staff didn’t pay you any mind, but Ben gave a reassuring grin and supportive whisper of “you got this” as you exited the kitchen. 

Your stomach felt in knots at the prospect of what lay ahead, but if the conversation earlier with Ben had done one thing, it was to strengthen your resolve to talk things out with Negan. You were going to be assertive and honest, while also trying to be open and receptive to his responses...whatever they turned out to be.

You were so preoccupied with how to start the conversation that you didn’t even pay attention to the fact that you walked past various compound members in the halls carrying food for two. Even when you reached Negan’s floor, a whole hoard of Saviors could’ve been standing around and you wouldn’t have given them more than a quick, passing nod. There were more important things to focus on at the moment than who might see you coming up here. 

Especially if this goes horribly and it’s the last time you’re allowed up here after tonight. 

Both brain and subconscious attacked the self-doubt at the same time, pulverizing it into dust so that nothing stood in the way of you and that damned box of questions. 

Reaching the closed, and suddenly more imposing than usual, door, you stopped and took a few seconds to gather your wits. Inhaling deeply through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, you muttered “here goes nothing” and balanced the tray on one hand so the other could lift and give a light knock. 

Rather than the expected yell to come in, there was a long silence. Sweat started to bead at the back of your neck at the thought that perhaps something else had come up and forced him to leave. Oh god, what if you had gotten yourself all pumped up only for him to not be here and…

The door in front of you suddenly opened, and the man who had blown both your heart and ability to be calm and collected to smithereens stood in the doorway wearing a drool-worthy navy tee that showed off his tanned neck and just a hint of chest hair. He gave a welcoming grin and “hiya, doll” before standing back for you to enter, which made a tiny bit of tension leak from your muscles. 

Entering the office, you crossed over to his open bedroom door and entered without hesitation, sensing more than hearing him follow. Once you had reached the small dining table and set the two bowls down, placed the silverware, and poured the glasses full of water, you moved to lean the tray up against the wall. 

When you turned back around, your heart leapt into your throat at the sight of him pulling back one of the chairs and waiting for you to move over and sit, so that he could push it into the table. While such gestures had at times annoyed you in the past, mostly because the idea that you couldn’t do something so simple as sit without the help of a man was utterly ridiculous, you melted at such a move from Negan. You now understood that he didn’t do those things because he thought you were incapable, but more as little signs of affection. It was the same reason why you had automatically prepared his food and drink as well as your own: not because you thought he couldn’t do it on his own, but because you wanted to do the simple gesture for him. It was the small actions that sometimes spoke volumes, and both of you seemed highly aware of that in the other. 

Settling in to eat, you realized that he had been suspiciously silent this evening. Granted, you had noticed that he seemed more relaxed in general when the two of you were alone, and you sometimes wondered if it was exhausting for him to put on that award-winning act of psychopathic comedian.

However, he hadn’t really spoken since greeting you at the door, and since you were still so in your head about how the hell to start such a serious and make-or-break conversation, you hadn’t been talking either. You were barely able to shovel down half of the stew, delicious as it was, before putting down the spoon and giving up. If you ate any more, you were afraid it wouldn’t stay down, since stress was taking up most of the room in your stomach. 

Staring at the bowl for a few long moments, you steeled your nerves and looked up just in time for him to finish the last spoonful of his own meal. He wiped his mouth with the napkin, gulped down the last of his water, and leaned back in his chair. His body gave off a relaxed, carefree air, one you wished you were able to replicate. His gaze, however, was sharp and intense on your face, as if it would give the answer to some unknown question if he stared hard enough. 

Yea, he’s probably wondering why the hell you’re just sitting here acting all weird and awkward. Say something!

Knowing that if you stalled much longer, you’d chicken out for good, you drew a heavy breath and prepared to blurt out god only knew what. 

As it turned out, you’d never know what your opening line would’ve been. Instead, it was Negan who beat you to the punch by taking a sledgehammer to the padlocks and throwing open the question box’s lid. 

“Doll,” he said seriously and with no preface. “I think we need to talk.”

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[hiuythn]

do u have any krbk fics that u can rec? any favorites of urs! ☺️

you’re in luck bc i just made a rec list for a friend so i have this ready for you

also i’ve got over 200 krbk bookmarks on ao3 so feel free to check that out if you finish this rec list.

all (except one) of these are completed. they're in no particular order. i tried to find ones that are less known, bc idk how much you've read but i'm assuming all the popular ones are familiar to you. happy reading! 💖💖💖

Inevitable - Legendaerie - 8k - mature CLASSIC 'bkg thinks they've been together and kiri thinks he's still pining' TROPE. it's INCOMPREHENSIBLE to me why this doesn't have more fucking kudos!!! why!!!

Tiny Truths - Quirk Archivist (OneHitWondersAnonymous) - 4k - teen bkg gets de-aged. kid him reveals sth to class 1a, more imptly, to KIRI, abt some ideas about what it means to open a hero agency together. it's super adorable!!

Punch My Mouth with Your Mouth - QuestCat44 - 4k - teen bkg spars with deku more bc OfA is acting up and he's the only one in the know. kiri gets jealous but he's so good-natured that his jealousy is only bc he misses sparring/spending time with bkg. BKG, on the other hand, is worried kiri is mad for different reasons asdkjfhasdhfa

all according to keikaku........... - carolinaa - 8k - teen the title should already tell you how good this is. I LOVE JEALOUSY FICS WHEN THEY'RE MORE FUNNY THAN ANGSTY AND THIS IS SO FUNNY. kiri gets tired of deku being a pussy around todo and decides to flirt with todo to get deku jealous enough to do sth about it. bkg and todo are both horrified for VERY different reasons DHADSKDFHJS

doll me up - shizuumi151 - 6k - gen kiri gets turned into a doll by a kid's quirk and no one knows. bkg still ends up caring for him :’)

These Words Are Ours - deviance - 2k - teen soulmate au but bkg figures who's going to say his words before it happens, and honestly that's kind of the point. he's not the type to fall in love at first sight. he MAKES the choice to love kiri and that, my friends, is my kind of soulmate au.

all good things need sunshine - shizuumi151 - 3k - teen FLORIST KIRI. BKG WANTS A BOUQUET THAT SAYS  'FUCK YOU'

Flour Power - WingSongHalo - 26k - teen KRBK HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF A BAG OF FLOUR AND PRETEND IT'S THEIR BABY

feedback loop - bigstupidjellyfish - 1k - teen PRO HERO BKG GETS THROWN BACK IN TIME FOR A BIT AND MEETS MIDDLE SCHOOL KIRI AND HE'S SO SOFT TO HIM ASDFHKASDFJ. i am a big fan of bkg being a fan of kiri. i can't get ENOUGH OF IT. can someone give me more fics like this

mixed signals - bigstupidjellyfish - 2k -teen a short 'what if' fic where kiri and bkg went to the same middle school. bkg's still an ass but kiri's still his equal it seems, and is just as good as handling him as ever

Trash Goblin Finds Love - wrunic - 4k - teen COFFEE SHOP AU. BARISTA   KIRI GETS SICK ONE TIME AND BKG MAKES HIM SOUP AND FORCES KIRI'S COWORKER TO DELIVER IT ASDJHFS

Dreaming of a White Mocha Christmas - let_me_wander - 8k - teen ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP AU.  BARISTA KIRI AND HIS FAV CUSTOMER ;) GET SNOWED IN  

Something Warm - let_me_wander - 15k - teen YES FOLKS IT'S A A A ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP FIC, THAT'S RIGHT!! BARISTA BKG THIS TIME. also kr is in a band and writes a song for bkg asdfhksjd

Kneel - deviance - 7k - explicit idk if you wanted explicit stuff but this is pretty light sub stuff, they're not even properly together at the beginning, and there isn’t sex til the end. i just liked how kiri is the only one bkg would rely on for sth this private, and it's more emotional than it is sexual?

Everyone Knows That Cats Are Independent - PurplePersnickety - 39k - teen YET. ANOTHER. COFFEE SHOP AU. but also?? daemons?? katsuki's got a lionness, and kiri has a...i'll let you find out. anyway they become closer and closer and closer and the flirting is so fucking excruciatingly obvious but cute and sdkjfhasdjs it's such a queer experience like 'is he...no he cant be...but what if he did like me - no that's not possible. but what if?' and they get so domestic sometimes i swear i'm about to puke from how cute it is. this is my fav coffee shop au ngl

Broken Bridges - DeathBelle - 68k - explicit plot fic!! krbk loses touch after gradutation. kiri comes back from korea and starts to work together with bkg, dealing with a series of murders and MAN the action is 👌 easy to follow but it hits all the beats, has that Flow. krbk being a power couple will never get old!!

Of Ghosts and other Inaccurate Things - chezka - 56k - gen pretty sure you've seen this one around but STILL. BKG FALLING FOR 'GHOST' KIRI IS BEST. this au really takes FULL COMPLETE advantage of the fact that krbk CANNOT TOUCH and the yearning practically astral-projected me back into the my past life when i was a dung beetle that got crushed under the foot of an elephant. it hurt, basically. but it hurt so good. JUST LET BKG HUG KIRI!!! happy ending ofc.

Catching Bees - MonocerosRex - 2k - teen bkg has to pay his classmates compliments. class 1a hijinks. the krbk in this is short but it made me squeal sdhfkakjl

i'm going to the forest to kick my own ass - WannabeMarySue - 5k - teen TODO PRANKS BKG BUT UNLUCKY FOR HIM BKG IS COMPETITIVE AND ACTUALLY LEARNS SOMETHING

Hair Care 101 - overlymetaromantic - 7k - gen ASDHFASDFHAJKS KIRI MEETS BKG'S MOM BY ACCIDENT AND GETS HAIR HELP AND THEY TALK ABOUT BKG AND IT'S SO. CUTE. AND THEN BKG DYES KR'S HAIR IN THE SECOND CHAPTER AND THEY'RE SO BLUSHY AND SWEET I CAN'T!!

Sometimes We Fall in the Dark - timetoboldlygo - 16k - teen BKG TAKING PHOTOS OF THINGS FOR THERAPY. YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT HOW YOU PHOTOGRAPH THINGS YOU TREASURE 👀👀👀

Corn Chip - smol_bird - 23k - teen I DONT FUCKIGN KNOW WHY THIS DOESN'T HAVE MORE KUDOS. IT'S LITERALLY SO GOOD. DEMON KIRI IS JOKINGLY SUMMONED BY BKG AND FRIENDS. THEY FALL IN LOVE. KIRI HAS TO LEAVE. BKG IS DETERMINED NOT TO LET THAT HAPPEN. HAPPY ENDING. WHAT ELSE COULD YOU ASK FOR

'cause i love you for infinity - multiclassmaps - 23k - teen SDHFADSJFASD DEMON AU AGAIN. THIS TIME IT'S KIRI THAT DOES THE SUMMONING. BUT WHY DOES BKG SEEM SO FAMILIAR??? WHAT CAN KIRI DO TO MAKE HIM STAY??

to the beat of your heart - drifting_i - 8k - gen BAND AU. KIRI WORKS AT A RESTAURANT AND SOMEHOW BEFRIENDS DRUMMER BKG AND BKG'S BAND CAN'T BELIEVE THAT KIRI GETS AWAY WITH HALF THE SHIT BKG ALLOWS HIM TO

Playing Favorites - vaporeon_ninja - 2k - gen AKSDJFHJADHFKA BKG GETS CALLED OUT ON HIS KIRI FAVOURITISM

(Not Quite) Proposal - imatrisarahtops - 783 - teen DRUNK BKG IS SAPPY WITH HIS BOYF

something worth remembering - bbuggs - 1k - teen DRUNK BKG AGAIN!!! THIS TIME HE DOESN'T REMEMBER KIRI IS HIS HUSBAND AND HE'S SO DISTRAUGHT ABOUT KIRI BEING TAKEN SDFJHSK

A Dragon's Hoard - chezka - 10k - teen kiri gets turned into a dragon bc of a quirk. LOVE HOW DRAGON KIRI STILL LIKES BKG BEST

Love Notes - PurplePersnickety - 5k - teen LOVE NOTES BKG LEAVES LOVE NOTES FOR KIRI IT'S SO SWEET

Define: Oblivious - PurplePersnickety - 45k - teen this is the second part to Love Notes, it's still updating BUT PLEASE CHECK IT OUT TOO BC KIRI DOES STH SO BADASS DURING PRACTICAL TRAINING I LOVE HIM I REREAD THIS NOW AND THEN JUST FOR HOW COOL HE IS IN THAT ONE CHAPTER. also the steady, careful way krbk define their relationship and bkg's demisexuality is so sweet, so good.

The Hard Easy - dirtbag - 4k - teen this one is pretty popular but i still gotta mention it bc. kissing lessons. KISSING LESSONS!!! i love how eagar bkg is askdfhks

Kitsune's Pride - kytrin, Mslead - 147k - explicit okay this was A DOOZY like i???? the plot???? the time travel and the oni and kitsune stuff???? bkg and kiri being badasses??? bkg wanting the best for kiri and angrily supporting him??? this was the first time i kept up to date with a fic when it was still updating and commenting every chapte,r i was so hooked. and ALSO like the authors have written SO MUCH more longfics like this like they have NOVELS and i REALLY rec you check them out like....bro idk how they do they have so much out already and i think and they're updating two more rn and i'm. their bitch tbh

Burden of Proof - kytrin, Mslead - 153k - explicit OK ONE MORE REC FOR THESE AUTHORS. burden of proof is so. so fcukign good. i have adhd and these guys have never one lost me even tho their fics are upwards of 60k. this fic has dragons, it has plot, it has growth and healing and found families and i WISH i could write sth this intricate.

Burger Kings - plantegg - 5k - teen stupid teenage boys being stupid. kiri blackmails bkg into going on a date asjdfhkdsjfakd

Worth a Thousand Words - awareoftheconcept - 43k - teen SDKJFHASKH THIS IS A GUILTY PLEASURE OF MINE I KNOW THE LACK OF COMMUNICATION TROPE IS OVERUSED BUT I CAN'T HELP FALL FOR ANGSTY KIRI AND OMG THE CONFRONTATION SCENE AT THE END IS SO. SO. SO MOVIE-ESQUE I HATE HOW LAME I AM. basically everyone thinks bkg is dating camie asdkjfhskd

Day 6: Fandom - PullingAllMighters, SweetBrew - 9k - mature bkg and kiri don't know each other until they're pro heros and only bc they start a competition to see who's better and they go to each other's signings undercover and develop crushes on each other and deku is an enABLER ASHAHAJFS

Scales Ain't The Same As Feathers - Julietwasanidiot - 2k - gen GOD THIS IS SO CUTE BABY BKG "FINDERS KEEPERS" A BABY DRAGON KIRI SKDHFHD but he thinks kiri is a chicken

Charades - orphan_account - 4k - teen this is just soft....game night....at one point bkg acts out a really romantic word for charades and he's EMBARRASSED SDJFHA. also kiri falls asleep on him and there's some hair stroking....soft...

Cranky-rishima - PurplePersnickety - 29k - teen kirishima is the one with nightmares in this one and he gets CRANKY and BKG has to be the one to reach out and i thought that was such a fresh reversal loved it

No Secrets to Success - kingdoms - 7k - teen THIS IS MY FAV!! MY ABSOLUTE FAV JUST BC I LOVE IT WHEN FICS MAKE PEOPLE GAPE IN AWE FROM HOW SOFT BKG IS WITH KIRI. also krbk forming their relationship outside of school in this au was so??? sweet??? it's just them hanging out together. ALSO KIRI IS SO GOOD AT POKING BKG'S BUTTONS ASJDFHASK

Built to Fall - bigstupidjellyfish - 68k - explicit pro heros fic. they had a bad breakup in third year and oh god the angst is QUALITY. DW THEY TOTALLY MAKE UP AND IT'S SO FCKN WORTH IT. bkg also got therapy so he’s a little more stable as an adult lol

A Name That You'll Remember - heronfem - 33k - mature bkg is a fail!villain. he fell in with the wrong crowd when he was younger. he doesn't actually do anything wrong. in fact, all of his 'crimes' are generally stopped by kiri and somehow all end up exposing corruption anyway, so he's actually helping. kids love bkg. he always makes sure they're safe before he robs a jewelry store or sth. somehow kiri ends up flirting with him in all their fights and bkg has no idea what to make of him. the public can't get enough of them

strawberry mango sweet - redriotinggg - 9k - teen it's just a really sweet smoothie shop au!!! it's good reliable fluff!! what else can you ask for!!

cultivating something so divine - redriotinggg - 10k - teen redriotinggg yet again, i love this au, it's vet!au and kiri is so good at loving animals that bkg hires him and they fall in love and it's also got some competency porn, as in krbk are hella good at their job like power couple ayy

Tension Reduction - acernor - 10k - explicit Kirishima is a massage therapist and Bakugo needs help relaxing.

Mistletoe? Mistletoe. - Tearsaresalty - 2k - teen class 1a keeps making bkg kiss kiri and neither of them really mind wow i wonder why 🙄

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

OK, that one text post activated something in me.

Screw it, story time.

The date was sometime over a decade ago. Back before AO3 was a thing. Back before Life Journal was big.

Back when FF.NET is what we had and what we lived on

Anyway, for those of you who know, there was once a time when Adult Fanfics were allowed on that site... ok, not allowed, but tolerated.

Anyway, one night, I went on the site looking for M*A*S*H fanfictions. And I found some doozies. But one in particular caught my interest.

IIRC it was called G*H*O*S*T and was a straight up horror slasher fic. It wasn't anywhere in the realm of LGBT like the M*A*S*H fandom has become recently. It was written from the POV of strict canonical relationships and took place in the Henry-Trapper years.

Anyway, as it turned out, this fic was rated NC-17 strictly for VIOLENCE. There wasn't a single speck of sexuality in it, it was all for graphic violence.

What sort of graphic violence?

Supernatural Horror.

I'm putting the synopsis and the rest of this post under a cut because I'm not kidding this was fucking dark-fic. But I'm still writing it up because I have a hope, a DREAM that someone else out there remembers this thing and has it saved somewhere.

Because I never did and I was never expecting THE PURGE and I haven't seen it since.

Anyway, the story was as follows.

Basically, Radar is sleeping one night when he is murdered. BOOM dead in his cot.

The killer makes it look like a suicide.

Nobody understands why the hell he did it and everyone is lost. There's widespread depression across the camp.

But, see, there's a twist to it.

Somehow, due to Radar being the one killed, it sets of a chain of events where the victims of this killer CANNOT FIND PEACE. Radar's psychic abilities screw with reality and he's left a ghost, unable to interact or affect anything that's happening but left as a witness to it ALL.

So, Radar is left as a spirit, forced to watch his friends and found family despair around him over his loss.

Henry, meanwhile, LOSES HIS DAMN MIND.

No really, he proceeds to start drinking himself to death very deliberately. The rest of the camp covers for him, they get it Henry basically lost a son, but he's absolutely useless from there on out...

Until the killer comes for HIM.

Henry is the next victim. The killer injects him with an overdose of morphine while he's drunk off his ass.

Henry dies (because of course he does) and is left a ghost...

THE HAPPIEST DAMN GHOST ON THE PLANET I might add because he immediately runs into Radar. The reunion is downright tear jerking and one of my favorite parts of the story.

Anyway, now people are starting to suspect shit. While it would otherwise make sense that Henry would overdose, the killer was a bit sloppy. He left clues. And suddenly, Hawkeye and Trapper are on the case.

Meanwhile, Henry and Radar are determined to find a way to break through the astral barriers and help their friends solve the case... but, as it turns out, neither of them got a proper look at the killer. Radar was sleeping and Henry was too drunk. So even if they could affect reality, they don't know who is responsible.

But, they start to get the hang of the spirit thing and, one day, I forget the circumstances, Radar manages to launch a food tray across the mess tent.

It's supremely freaky for everyone involved and now there's talk of the camp being haunted by their ghosts (which it technically is)

As it turns out, the killer isn't done.

Frank is next.

But, see, Frank Burns, teetotaler and hyper military who practically sleeps with one eye open, isn't an easy target. All the things that make him an asshole work out in this case and when the killer comes for Frank, Frank gets a good look at him.

It's Jack Scully. In this story, he showed up long before his canonical appearance and, after being jilted by Major Burns, he's out for revenge on the whole camp.

Frank is murdered by Scully in the latrine and this time there is no attempt to hide that it is a murder. Hawkeye and Trapper, along with the rest of the gang, get the MPs involved because SOMEONE IS KILLING OFF THE 4077TH.

Meanwhile, Frank is a ghost along with Henry and Radar. It pleases none of them but Frank is especially appalled because after all his "Service" he was taken down by a PRIVATE.

So, shit goes down. The MPs start looking for clues. Meanwhile, the ghosts, now knowing who is responsible, start trying to find a way to share the information.

Eventually, Scully is found out. It involves the combined work of Hawkeye and Trapper, the MPs and the ghosts. But, before they can take him to justice he manages to pin Margaret down in the mess tent at gunpoint. His finger is on the trigger and if the MPs even try to raise their weapons, he will take out Major Houlihan.

Cue the only valiant thing Frank Burns has ever done in his existence.

Seeing Margaret in mortal peril, his rage is so damn great that he REACHES THROUGH THE PLANES OF EXISTENCE and tackles Scully, taking him out and saving Margaret.

The battle is won, Scully is taken away, and the camp is finally safe again.

And that's when the light comes.

Radar, being the bastion of innocence he is, is called to cross over. He tries to refuse, he does NOT want to go and especially doesn't want to leave Henry behind. But, ever the father, Henry pretty much orders him to cross over telling him that he deserves his peace and knowing that Radar is safe in heaven would make him the happiest ghost in the world.

Radar says goodbye to Henry and goes into the light to heaven, knowing full well that his surviving friends are safe and that he's done all he can to help them.

THE END.

Well, sort of. THERE WAS A SEQUEL

But, sadly, I only got to read the first chapter of it before the PURGE occurred (this whole thing happened in the days right before all NC-17 stories were erased) and, as the sequel was also NC-17, it was culled before it was finished.

Anyway, if anyone knows about where I can find this story or remembers anything about it, let me know. I'd love to find it again.

[aethernoise]

5 and 10!

5. Which of your fics do you wish was more successful?

That’s a doozy of a question, and I’m in a mood so here’s a doozy of an answer. 

My instinct is to wax philosophical about how “success” is measurable in different ways and how it’s important to keep perspective and not get discouraged while also being critical in a healthy way--while somehow avoiding the deeper yearning to complain because I don’t want to sound ungrateful. Because I am grateful, immeasurably so--that said, I think I know what I deserve and what my work deserves, and putting a lot of work into something to have it get a lukewarm reception sucks. A lot. 

And even then part of me is like... what does lukewarm mean? Emily, how could you possibly complain about something that has 6 comments? Some folks would kill for that. But I’m not them, I’m me, and this is my heart and soul I’m typing out and giving to people to read, you know? I can’t explain it. It’s not a number I can point to. It’s just the feeling I get. That I’m being overlooked, that people are “over it,” or that people believe I’m somehow beyond need for feedback and support due to my relative popularity. That is never, ever true. I can guarantee you it is never true for anyone, regardless of likes, kudos, reblogs, comments, any tangible metric of “success.” We are all insecure human beings on the internet together.

That said, to actually answer the question with something other than “all of them”? A Heavy Heart to Carry, maybe, and There’s Fire.

And honestly... my last few chapters have not done particularly well compared to the amount of effort I put into them. Maybe it’s timing, maybe it’s lots of things, idk, but beyond the glimmers of validation from my handful of loyal and treasured commenters (ily) I have felt a bit like opening my heart up to the void lately as far as Damn Well goes. It’s discouraging, but it doesn’t mean I’ll stop. It might just be harder to keep or regain momentum when that feeling persists.

10. What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

I think I will just try to keep going. I will try to write more combat, because it’s very fun even though it’s challenging. I want to write more just to WRITE instead of obsess over context and timeline etc. I want to write more little tiny snippets just for the sake of them being there. Maybe I’ll try to set a concrete goal of writing at least one drabble per month, something easy but to give me the illusion of discipline! 

[thebluemartini]

A Monolith Between Them - Part IV {Nessian}

*Note: This is a post from 2018 that somehow got deleted! I’m just adding it back to my tumblr :)

TITLE: A Monolith Between Them

PREVIOUS PARTS: Part I, Part II, Part III

FIC LENGTH: 4 Parts

FIC SYNOPSIS: Post-ACOFAS. After living in the Illyrian Mountains for six months, Nesta decides she wants to perform the Blood Rite. Cassian isn’t too pleased.

*This fic is also posted on AO3 and FF.

A/N: Hooray! It’s the final part…and oh my stars, this final chapter was a total beast to write and edit! It’s so long, haha. I feel like I’m not so great at writing more action-y scenes, which is why I was nervous about writing about the Rite in the first place. Hopefully it came out okay! And I hope you enjoy this final chapter :) It’s a doozy!

Part IV - Together

Day Seven of the Blood Rite:

By some miracle, she had made it to Ramiel.

For the past two days, she did not stop despite the fact that her body begged and begged her to. Her empty stomach made it difficult for her to find the energy to go on. The wound in her thigh and the bruises and scrapes on her arms grew more tender and raw as they rubbed against her leather clothing and the stone of the monolith. Her hands kept cramping. Her eyes demanded to be shut. The cold air that blew around her sent shivers through her entire body. That dark voice within her still repeated “You’re weak” over and over in her mind.

However, Nesta remained strong and tenacious.

She still had no idea how much time she had left to reach the top of Ramiel…or if she even had any time left.

Ascending Ramiel was the toughest part yet, as its incline was nearly completely vertical. She had been forced to constantly grab hold of the jagged rocks jutting from it to stay on the enormous stone. So many times, her feet nearly slid out from under her, or her hands nearly lost their grip. Being without water for many hours left her lips chapped and her mouth dry.

She was nearing the top of one side of the monolith. Once she reached it, she would still have to hobble or crawl up the slope to reach the summit and the black stone that she needed to touch to complete the Rite.

Once the top of the monolith was within her reach, she stretched out her arms to grab hold of the edge. Summoning all her remaining strength, she pulled herself up, using her feet to help push herself upward. She managed to get her upper body on the flat surface, where she found a large stone blanketed by snow to grab hold of and help yank the rest of her body up.

Laying on her back upon the snowy ground, Nesta momentarily closed her eyes and panted from the exertion of her climb. It felt like it took an eternity to get that far, and she still had a bit more to go.

Suddenly, the sun that she felt shining upon her eyelids seemed to suddenly go away.

Nesta’s eyes shot open to find a tan-skinned Illyrian male standing before her, eyeing her with a look of disdain. “I’m certainly not going to let Cassian’s whore complete the Rite,” he grumbled and moved his foot to kick her.

Before his foot made contact with her stomach, Nesta turned on her side and tightly grabbed the large stone nearby to hang on. At the impact of his foot, Nesta let out a long wail as the force sent her legs to hang off the edge. Fury raged through her as the male kept kicking at her, trying to knock her off the monolith.

She forced her eyes to stay open as she attempted to analyze his movements. When he wasn’t expecting it and his foot came toward her, she seized his foot instead. The sudden weight upon his foot when he tried to pull it back sent him tumbling to the ground on his back.

Nesta tugged on his leg to help bring her whole body back up on the cliff. She scrambled to stand up and limped away from the monolith’s edge. Her thigh wound felt like it was completely inflamed.

“You bitch,” the male, having recovered from his fall, said as charged toward her and tackled her to the ground from behind. Nesta squirmed face-down beneath him as he moved his hands around her neck in an attempt to suffocate her.

But Nesta was quick to jerk her head back, knocking it roughly into his chin and causing him to release her. She then placed her palms against the ground and popped her upper body up, causing him to slide off her back.

However, now he was on top of her legs, still pinning her to the ground. Nesta tried to kick him, but the weight of him anchored her down and her legs were too weak. He stretched out his arm and picked up a nearby rock and pounded it repeatedly against her booted feet.

As she screamed, Nesta twisted her upper body so she could start whacking at him with her hand, but her hits seemed to have no effect on him at all. There was no strength in her slaps.

He ended up tossing away the rock and grabbing one of her hands when it came at him, tugging it toward himself as he stood up. Nesta quickly turned her body over so she was on her back. But the male came around to where her head was and kneeled one leg down on the ground. He pulled her arm out across his thigh and pushed down on it until a loud pop from her elbow joint was heard. A cry of anguish escaped her lips as the pain surged within her arm.

Dropping her injured arm, he moved to the other side of her, preparing to repeat his previous action on her other limb. Nesta kept her arm against herself and refused to let it be pulled away from her. But it looked like another idea appeared in the Illyrian’s mind, and he decided to head toward her feet instead. When he leaned down to grab them, Nesta kneed his chin, sending him stumbling back. In a quick motion, Nesta unsteadily rose off the ground and onto her now battered feet, ignoring the pain she felt.

He came charging after her once more, looking like he was determined to dive for her legs and hoist her off the ground. Sticking out her good arm against his shoulder, she halted him and curled her arm around his neck. With her arm wrapped around him, she fell back onto the ground, taking him with her. Then, she lifted her knee to smash it into his groin, causing him to let out a muffled yelp. She kneed him between the legs once more with such force that she flipped him over her body. A cracking sound was heard when he collided with the ground upon his back.

He lied there groaning, with his eyes tightly shut. But he did not move. In fact, it looked like he was unable to move.

Nesta tried to catch her breath and steady her racing heart. She gingerly rolled up the sleeve of her injured arm, then scooped up some snow from the ground beside her to hold it against her elbow joint. She grimaced as she did so, but she hoped the coolness of the snow would at least help reduce the swelling.

Looking up, she noticed the sun was setting…

Who knew if this was her final night to make it to the black stone? If this Illyrian male was on the monolith too, it must have been close to the end of the week of the Rite…

With a grunt, she turned her body over so she was now on her knees. The pain within her thigh was still there from the impaled stick, but not as strong as the pain that was throbbing through her arm and her aching feet.

But she couldn’t think about the pain. She had to keep moving. Putting the pressure on her knees and the palm of her unharmed arm, she crawled using three of her limbs.

It was the final day of the Rite, and Cassian was utterly restless.

There was an ache within him that no beverage or tonic could soothe. His anxiety could not be eased, and the frustration and regret he felt toward himself for the past mistakes he’d made with Nesta were at an ultimate high.

He certainly didn’t have any time for the taunts that were thrown his way that day either. As soon as he rose and dressed for the day, he stormed out of his cabin and headed toward the heart of the camp. Along the way, a few Illyrian males cackled and heckled him by asking where the “witch” or his “whore” was, implying that there was no way Nesta would survive. Each of those Illyrians were promptly punched in the jaw and knocked down into the snow.

Once he reached the center of the camp, Cassian paced around the unlit firepit with his fists clenched at his sides.

When he, Azriel, and Rhys had completed the Rite, their touch upon the black stone had immediately transported them back to the middle of their camp. The same would happen for Nesta if she made it.

The aches he felt throughout his body grew stronger. While clutching his stomach, Cassian plopped himself on the snowy ground beside the pit. He sat cross-legged as he prayed to the gods that Nesta was safe and would complete the Rite.

With his eyes constantly scanning the area around him, Cassian waited.

And hoped.

Nesta continued to crawl up the steep incline to the summit of Ramiel. The sky was getting darker and darker.

Her bones kept pleading for her to stop and give up, especially with her body constantly losing its balance and her clumsily trying to hang on. With all her willpower, she resisted that urge by thinking of Cassian’s words.

“Come back to me. Please.”

“Continue fighting and surviving as you always do.”

“Keep going, sweetheart.”

Fortunately, the black stone was in sight. Not a single snowflake had fallen upon it as if its mystical power was shielding it. It had the shimmer of a black diamond, and it served as her beacon.  

She needed to hang on a little bit longer…

But as soon as she passed through a row of pine trees, a gust of freezing wind blew past her that made her look down and tighten her grip on the ground beneath her. She could sense magic thrumming around her and calling to her. It seemed to pull at the magic within her from the Cauldron that had lied dormant for over a year now.

The sky suddenly turned black, causing Nesta to freeze. The wind continued to howl around her, and suddenly a young woman materialized before her.

When the woman lifted her head, Nesta recognized her face…

“Feyre?” Nesta questioned weakly in disbelief.

“I don’t know why I take pity on you. You don’t deserve it. You let me and Elain nearly starve to death, while you sat and did nothing,” she spoke with such contempt.

Elain appeared beside Feyre and nodded along to Feyre’s words. She gave Nesta a scornful look…It didn’t look right to see such a facial expression upon her face.

“And you let me die,” a male’s voice said. Nesta whipped her head to her left, where she saw her father. “How could you do nothing when the king captured me? What kind of daughter are you?”

“You will never be one of us,” Rhys stated as he appeared beside Feyre, along with Azriel, Mor, and Amren behind him.

Nesta couldn’t stop the tears that formed in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

She wished she could say these words and scenes were unfamiliar to her…but she had seen all of this and heard all of these words in her nightmares since the war.

Her nightmares, fears, and insecurities had all come to life before her.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real, she repeated to herself in her head as she closed her eyes, trying to shut them out.

But when she heard the sound of Cassian’s voice, she felt compelled to open up her teary eyes and look behind her to see him.

“How could someone love a selfish and rotten person like you? You’re worthless. I’m only forced to love you because we’re mates.”

Seeing him stand before her and saying these things - even though she knew this was all contrived - still wounded her.

“That’s…not true,” Nesta weakly spoke aloud and shook her head up at him. Sliding her hand within her pocket, she felt around for the letter the real Cassian had given her. When her fingertips found the parchment, Nesta closed her eyes tightly and relished in the memory of what his letter had said.

These past several months, you have been irritating, infuriating, and ridiculous…as well as inspiring, enthralling, and intoxicating.

I am in love with you, Nesta Archeron.

I’ll be waiting for you, ready to not waste anymore time.

Her eyes shot open, and she sought out the black stone. In the darkness, she could no longer see it, but she knew the direction she had to go. With newfound vigor, she rushed forward on her hand and knees.

But as she did so, all the figures around her vanished, except for Cassian.

Now Cassian was flying, when a blast of light powered through the air and hit him square in the chest, sending him to the ground right in front of her. Nesta stopped and stared at him as life left his eyes.

Another nightmare had come to life. But the tears didn’t stop flowing from Nesta’s eyes. Seeing him die before her was a dagger to her chest. All this time, she had feared having these feelings for him because of how that love could make her suffer…but she couldn’t deny it anymore. She couldn’t shield herself any longer.

She couldn’t resist placing her hand against the fake Cassian’s cheek. She half-thought her hand would go through him as if he were some kind of phantom. But he was solid beneath her palm. She could even feel the stubble on his cheek.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. Keep going.

Suppressing a shudder from what she just witnessed, she continued her crawl toward the black rock. The figures of her sisters, her father, and the Inner Circle all appeared once more, calling after her and yelling at her.

She shut them out and weakly continued her journey, hurting her knees and hand when she roved over jagged rocks in the darkness.

When the front half of her body collapsed to the ground after her arm suddenly gave out from under her, it was then that she could make out that the black rock was a short distance before her. Her body shuddered as she let out a sigh of relief.

But when she tried to move forward, she felt a hand grab hold of her boot, causing her to wince. She turned behind her and saw Cassian was there.

“Why are you leaving me, Nesta? Why are abandoning me and shutting me out like you did after the war?” he demanded to know.

Nesta just carefully shook her head. “I’m not,” she said softly. “I’m not.”

She grimaced when she tried to yank her foot out of his grip, but the apparition wouldn’t let go. She outstretched her uninjured arm as far as she could and lunged for the black rock.

But she couldn’t reach it.

She was so close…

Breathing heavily as the tears cascaded down her cheeks, she thought of all she had endured the past several days. The cold. The stick impaled in her thigh. The hazardous climb. Her broken arm. Her bruised feet. Even her own mind and magic had betrayed her.

This couldn’t all be for nothing.

She wouldn’t let it be all for nothing.

She focused on imagining what could be, if she made it back.

What it would be like to see Cassian again… to tease him as she loved to do…and to also feel him against her.  

She wanted more time in this life. Not just to be with Cassian, but to actually live and enjoy life.

“Why are you leaving me, Nesta?” the apparition of Cassian whined.

“I’m not,” Nesta firmly replied. “I’m coming home to you.”

Once more, she threw out her arm so far that it was taut and she felt the strain within her muscles. Her fingertips grazed the edge of the stone.

Everything around her faded away in an instant.  

The sun had set over an hour ago…meaning Nesta only had a few hours left to complete the Rite.

Cassian hadn’t left his spot beside the pit. Despite the fact that his body had begun to shiver after the sun descended and the cool winds blew through, he did not budge.

The aches within him grew stronger and in the past hour or so, those aches seemed to move to his head. If he and Nesta were mates as he had suspected…Nesta must have been suffering greatly.

He let out a long, slow breath. He closed his eyes and sent up another silent prayer that Nesta would return.

At the sound of a thump against the ground, Cassian suddenly opened his eyes. He lost his breath at the sight of Nesta appearing and lying in the snow before him. Her eyes were closed and one of her arms was stretched out. Her body was shivering, and her hair was disheveled, with most of the strands having fallen out of its hair ribbon, and her Illyrian leathers were all torn up. But one of her arms…something didn’t look right. And her thigh was covered with a bloodied handkerchief…the handkerchief he had given her.

Tears formed in his eyes as he rushed toward her. “Nesta,” he whispered as he gently ran his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at him. Her breathing stilled when she saw him. “Are you really here?” she asked feebly.

Cassian smoothed her hair away from her face. “Yes,” he breathed. Then, without his eyes leaving hers,  he slid his hands beneath her body and scooped her up as he stood. Her face contorted with agony as he did so. He looked at her apologetically and realized he needed to get her to a healer immediately.

“What were your last words to me before the Rite? Before you said goodbye?” she asked seriously as she lifted her hand to his cheek.

“‘Come back to me please,’” he answered softly as he recalled that heart wrenching conversation that replayed in his head multiple times the past few days. “And now you have, but I need to get you -” he began to mutter, but was interrupted by Nesta lifting her head and crashing her lips against his.

He was caught off guard, but once he got over his astonishment, Cassian responded to her delicate kiss. Despite loving the taste of her, he knew they did not have time for this right now. He needed to get her injuries taken care of first. He pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. “Why do we only kiss when one of us is dying?” he wondered huskily. “We need to get you to a healer.”

“I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Nesta said honestly while she ran her hand across his jawline before bringing it down to his chest.

“If we don’t get you to a healer soon, you won’t have much time left.”

Flying would’ve been the fastest way to get back to his cabin. But she didn’t enjoy flying, and it would just make her sicker. Plus, he risked jostling her and injuring her more if he flew. Speed walking back would just have to do.

Nesta closed her eyes as she leaned her head against his upper arm, while her hand now gripped onto to the center of his shirt.

“Hold on, Nes. Stay with me,” he said to her, and she nodded.

Cassian began to stride through the camp in the direction of his cabin as he carefully held onto Nesta.

“Now I definitely know something is wrong. I just called you ‘Nes’ and you didn’t bite my head off,” he joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She looked pale and kept her eyes closed, but when he briefly looked down, she was smiling.

As they passed a few of the other camp’s cabins en route, the door to one of them suddenly burst open and an Illyrian female ran out. In the light of the camp’s outdoor torches, Cassian realized it was Morwenna, a female he had been training and one he believed Nesta had befriended. She charged toward them, her long dark hair flying around behind her.

“She’s back!” Morwenna exclaimed as she came to Cassian’s side, keeping pace with him. A look of shock and awe was upon her face.

“Yes, but she needs medical attention immediately,” Cassian stated seriously as he continued to plow forward. At Cassian’s reply, Morwenna’s facial expression quickly transformed into one that was solemn. “Morwenna, could you please go find one of the healers and send her to my cabin?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied with a firm nod before darting off in another direction.

Nesta groaned as he strolled through the snow and walked up a small, steep incline. The sound propelled Cassian to move faster. Within the next few minutes, they had finally reached his cabin.

As soon as he entered, he headed straight for his bedroom. Gently laying her down on one side of the bed, he pulled down the blankets on the opposite side. Then he picked her up again to lay her down on the uncovered sheets and brought the blankets up over her body. Nesta opened up her eyes as her head hit the pillow. “Cassian, I need…water,” she requested quietly.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he called out to her as he rushed out of the room. Very slowly, Nesta sat up and was about to attempt propping up her pillow when Cassian returned holding one tall glass of water and a bowl of beef broth. He quickly handed the glass to her in her good arm and placed the bowl on the stand beside the bed. “Stop trying to move. Let me do that,” he said as he reached behind her to prop her pillow against her headboard.

After a long sip of water, Nesta swallowed. “I thought I told you I don’t take orders from anyone,” she said softly as she leaned back against the headboard and grinned slyly up at him. She took another swig of water.

“And here I thought, considering your state, you would indulge me only for today,” Cassian said as he laid the back of his hand against her forehead. She was burning up. Cassian internally pleaded that Morwenna would be able to quickly find one of the healers.

Nesta gulped. “Never,” she stated, the small grin still on her face.

“Well in between sips, could you please tell me what happened to you?” Cassian requested as he looked at her arm that was out of place.

“I think one of the males broke my arm,” she replied. “Another male impaled a stick through my thigh.”

“What?” Cassian’s eyes widened. Then he carefully pulled the covers off of her and looked back down at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around her thigh. Very gingerly, he untied it. Seeing the piece of stick that was still lodged within her thigh, he fought to keep his rage under control. The wound looked to be completely infected.

“Forgive me, sweetheart, for being so forward, but may I remove your clothes?” Cassian asked, covering up his concern with his casual bantering. He needed to get her out of her dirty clothes and prepare for the healer to look her over.

After pulling the glass away from her mouth, she nodded. “Usually, you’re so barbaric, I’m shocked you even bothered to ask,” she said sleepily as she rested her head back.

Cassian walked over to the chest at the foot of his bed and opened it, pulling out one of his shirts and tossing it on the bed near Nesta’s feet. “Well, once you’re all healed, I’ll be barbaric and we can reenact a scene from that smutty The Barbarian and the Maiden novel you read,” he said with a mischievous smile.

Nesta nearly choked on her water, causing Cassian to immediately rush to her side out of alarm. Gods forbid he kill her with his sexual innuendos after she survived the Blood Rite…

But she recovered quickly, and her eyes narrowed on him while her lips threatened to break out into a devious grin. “You’ve been reading my books?”

His eyes gleamed when he looked back down at her body to try to figure out the least painful way to get her clothes off of her. “One or two,” he replied casually, but then had to pause their playful conversation and return to the task at hand. “I’m sorry if this hurts,” he stated unhappily, and Nesta nodded in acceptance as she sat her now empty glass down on the nightstand.

When she closed her eyes, Cassian slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her pants and slowly pulled them down past her thighs. Nesta only winced a little when her pants peeled away from her wounded thigh. The wound was all red and had some white spots around the stick that could’ve been puss. Streaks of blood covered her thigh.

“When I’ve fantasized about bringing you to my bed and ripping off your clothes, this isn’t exactly what I had pictured,” Cassian commented with a glint in his eyes to distract her as he continued to pull her pants off of her legs and feet.

A slight blush came across Nesta’s cheeks, but she didn’t open her eyes. He tossed her pants to the floor, then stood beside her again. “I’m going to untie your top,” he informed her, and she leaned her upper body forward to grant Cassian access to her back.

“I never thought such fantasies could become a reality,” she said softly as he began to untie the laces on the back of her Illyrian leather tunic. “I never thought you could ever truly want…me.”

Cassian’s fingers faltered in their task, and it felt like his heart had been pierced. He took a deep breath before continuing to untangle the laces. “I’ve wanted you for a long time,” he said honestly.

Once he finally finished pulling out the laces, he pulled the ribbon out of her hair and pushed her hair to the side, over her shoulder. Leaning forward, he placed a light kiss on the back of her neck. He thought he saw a slight shiver go down her spine.

Then he went to the front of her body to carefully slide the leather sleeves of her shirt from her arms. A pained cry escaped her lips when it went over her dislocated arm. After he threw it to the ground, he grabbed the bottom edge of her black shirt that was beneath the leather tunic and gingerly lifted it up and over her head. She let out another pained moan when she outstretched her arms above her head.

All she was currently wearing now was a bra and underwear. Out of politeness, Cassian looked away from her body. He swiftly reached for his shirt that he had tossed on the bed and put it on her. It was large and loose and would probably go down to her knees if she stood up.

She leaned back against the pillows and stared up at him as he brought the blankets back over her body. He placed his hand against her cheek. It was the same spot where he had put his hand when he said goodbye to her before the Rite. And now to have her before him after the Rite…He could feel that she really was here. This wasn’t a dream. This time, he leaned forward and placed a kiss to her forehead.

“Cassian, I…” Nesta began to say feebly when he pulled away, but stopped when Morwenna and Leta, one of the Illyrian healers, burst into the room.

He would need to figure out what she wanted to say later. But for now, he was thankful the healer was finally here to take care of her. Cassian stepped away and let Leta look her over. The female pulled back the blankets to analyze her injuries. “Explain to me what happened,” Leta kindly ordered.

Nesta recounted the skirmishes she endured the past week, and Cassian fought to keep his rage minimal as she spoke. He wished he could break the necks of those snotty males…or at least break something. But who knew if they even made it back…he didn’t know which he hoped for more: that they suffered and perished in the Rite, or that they survived only to return and have to deal with Cassian’s fury.

When Nesta concluded, Leta immediately ordered her to consume the beef broth on the nightstand as she dug through the medicine in her bag. Before Nesta could even attempt to grab the bowl with her good arm, Cassian beat her to it. He picked up the bowl and began feeding her spoonfuls of it.

As she ate, Leta added tonics to heal her and to knock her unconscious into the broth. Once she finished eating, Nesta stretched out her good arm toward Cassian. He put down the bowl and spoon on the nightstand and eagerly accepted her hand in his grasp. “Thank you,” she whispered drowsily.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Cassian answered. He brought their hands up to his face and kissed the back of her hand.

Nesta squeezed his hand as her eyes closed, and she instantly fell into a deep sleep.

She wasn’t sure how many hours or how many days had passed, but she slipped in and out of consciousness.

Most of the time, Nesta was in a deep sleep. But every so often, she’d awake or be nudged awake by Cassian, who would be sitting beside her, ready and waiting with a bowl of broth to feed her containing tonics to help her heal and sleep.  As soon as she would finish, he’d hand her a glass of water to drink.

Too drowsy to speak and too preoccupied with eating and drinking whenever she awoke, words were not exchanged between her and Cassian during the short periods of time she was awake, save for his gentle orders for her to either eat and drink and his whispers of “Goodnight, sweetheart,” when she would slowly fall back asleep. Before she drifted off, she felt him kiss her temple each time.

Overall, her sleep had been dreamless…until one instance where she thought she had woken up on her own. She searched for Cassian, expecting him to be nearby and ready, as usual, to feed her.

But he wasn’t there…instead she found a letter addressed to her on the nightstand. Opening it up, she read through its contents:

Nesta,

I thought I loved you, but I think it was just the mating bond that messed with my brain and deceived me. I don’t love you. I don’t want anything to do with you.

Don’t expect to see me ever again.

-Cassian

The words sent tears streaming down her face, and she felt like she was suffocating.

Gasping for air, her eyes shot open and she found herself still in Cassian’s bed and no letter beside her. In the dim room, she reached her hand out to the side of her along the mattress, hoping to find Cassian beside her to reassure her that what just occurred was just a nightmare.

But her hand never found Cassian’s. She turned her head to find no one was beside her. Hyperventilating, she tried to push away her fears that Cassian really did run off and abandon her. Surely, he was just in the cabin somewhere…

But the nightmare had felt so real…Was the dream actually a premonition of what was to come?

Pushing away her covers, she got up off the bed without wincing.

Looking down, she realized she was still wearing Cassian’s shirt. Stretching out her arm, she found it no longer looked dislocated and didn’t ache. She also lifted up her leg to examine her thigh and saw that her wound was stitched up and healing.

She felt so…brand new. It was as if she had never physically suffered from the Blood Rite. There certainly were benefits to having a fae body….

Determined to find Cassian, she strolled out of his bedroom and headed down the hallway toward his study. Peeking her head around the door frame, she discovered he wasn’t there.

Ignoring her nerves, she went back down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen and the living room. But she still couldn’t find him.

Going to the front door, she turned the knob and opened it.

There, she found Cassian carrying a brown sack and about to take a step up to the small porch that led to his entryway. At the sound of the door creaking open, his head perked up. At first, he was beaming, but in a flash, that beam faded.

“You should be lying down,” he said seriously.

Nesta stepped back, pulling the door open with her to allow him entrance. “We’ve been over this before. You can’t order me around,” she said sternly.

Cassian stepped inside, and Nesta closed the door behind him. She turned around so her back was against the door, and Cassian approached her.

“Where were you?” she asked in a tone mixed with panic and irritation.

“I needed to go buy you some more food. We were nearly out of broth, and I think you’ll be ready to move onto more solid foods soon. Then I ended up flying to Velaris because I remembered there was that one tea you enjoy from one of the shops so I had gotten that too,” Cassian explained calmly as his eyes tried to search hers for…something. “I’m sorry. You’d been sleeping for over nine hours at a time the past few days. I didn’t expect you to be awake so soon. I shouldn’t have gone.”

He was out buying food for her, even going as far to find her favorite tea…to even further take care of her. All her life, she felt let down…especially by men. Her father abandoned her and her sisters, not even bothering to ensure they were nourished or caring that they lived. She thought Tomas Mandray would be the one to help take care of her…but that was all a facade. All he wanted to do was feed his own lustful desires.

After such experiences, she had previously sworn to herself that she would never trust a man again.

But then Cassian came into her life…and had been slowly breaking that resolve down.

Right now, she just needed to feel him and assure herself once more that all of this was real. She needed to truly know that he was before her and really taking care of her and not just part of her imagination. Abruptly, she tightly wrapped her arms around Cassian’s torso and closed her eyes as she laid her head against his chest. Cassian dropped the sack he was carrying to the ground, which made a small thump when it hit the floor. Some items in the bag spilled out and scattered on the floor, but he ignored it. He wrapped his arms around her in return.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“Is that how you always respond when someone shows you affection?” she said, careful to not let any tears escape her eyes. Trying to hide her concern, she continued. “Are you so unused to it that you assume something must be wrong with someone to want to embrace you?”

“This is more of an I’m terrified yet so relieved to see you kind of a hug rather than a Cassian, you are the sun my world revolves around and I just want to worship you constantly hug.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “I would never hug you like that.”

Cassian pulled back and gripped his hands on her upper arms as he stared her directly in the eyes. “What’s wrong?” he repeated.

Nesta paused, then shook her head. “Nothing.”

Cassian sighed out of frustration. “Is that how this is going to go?” he asked angrily. “You’re just going to shut me out again? If I have to go through that again…I won’t be able to take it. I don’t want you just at arm’s length, Nesta. I want all of you. The good and the bad. I don’t want to be just a meaningless fling for you.”

The old Nesta probably would’ve fired back at him, telling him it was none of his business to know everything and it was presumptuous of him to think she’d want him to be more than a fling. But now…Nesta’s heart raced beneath her chest. She didn’t want to lose him. She was screwing this up. She wanted him more than anything. She needed to be honest with him and fix this. After all she realized in the Blood Rite…

“You’re not!” she exclaimed.

“Then what am I to you?”

How could she even find the words to explain what he meant to her?

“You’re…everything to me,” she finally said. “And that scares me,” she added softly as tears began to form in her eyes.

“Why?”

She hesitated, but finally decided to bring up her suspicion that they’d never spoken of. “What if these feelings are just because of…a possible mating bond between us? What if this is just one more thing in my life that I have no control over?”

When she mentioned the mating bond, Cassian seemed to go still for a moment, but then shook his head at her. “Remember what I told you? Mates don’t have to care about each other.  As far as I’m aware, Elain still doesn’t seem to have any kind of feelings for Lucien. Rhys and Feyre are an extraordinary case. Do you feel something more than a strong pull to me or more than a feeling of possessiveness? Then whatever you feel is real. It’s not something that’s been forced on you.”

“The thought of losing you…or of you betraying me or disappointing me…it leaves me feeling dead inside. I just don’t know what I’d do if any of that happened, and I couldn’t tell if I truly felt like I couldn’t live without you, or if it was because of some ridiculous bond between us,” Nesta shook her head as the tears continued to fall.

Cassian brought his hands to the sides of her face and started wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “For the week of the Rite, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and worrying about you. I missed you walking into my cabin unannounced and you rolling your eyes at me when I made some comment that you insisted was ridiculous. I missed your glares, your insults, and those rare times you’d give me a small smile. I missed you. I know, without a doubt, my feelings for you are real and are my own. They aren’t because of some possible bond.”

Her heart hammered within her chest. She remembered how it occurred to her during the Rite that she may never be able to tease Cassian again, never get to hear him make a silly sexual comment again, never feel the thundering of her heart when he called her “sweetheart,” and never get to just simply…talk to him.

She had missed him immensely. Even the week leading up to the Rite where they didn’t see each other…she missed him.

Was she relieved that her feelings were indeed her own? Her feelings for him were so overwhelmingly strong that it slightly frightened her.

She took a deep breath. “When I was on Ramiel…something in my magic called to the magic of the monolith. It brought to life all the nightmares I had had in the past year.”

Cassian’s eyes widened at this information.

“And those nightmares involved you saying I was unworthy of love, or you dying by that Cauldron’s blast of light…and they always left me feeling so broken. Then today, I dreamed I woke up, and you were gone for good, claiming your feelings for me were just because of the bond. So when you weren’t here when I really did wake up, I was terrified.”

Cassian continued to rub her face. “I’m so sorry. I know I’ve given you reasons to not trust me by failing to protect you and failing to keep some of my promises…but I’m determined to follow through with my promises now. I will not abandon you.”

Nesta nodded as she grabbed onto his forearms. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you and for shutting you out.”

“We both have things to work on,” Cassian replied honestly. “And we can work through them together.”

“Are you sure you want this? That you want me?” she couldn’t help but ask, still feeling skeptical that this was all real.

Cassian sighed. As he firmly held her face still, he looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Don’t let your doubts consume you. They’ll drive you mad.”

“You’re ordering me around again,” she stated as she narrowed her eyes at him, but she failed to be truly stern with him. A smile spread across her face.

Cassian hesitantly smiled back. “But do you want this?” he asked seriously.

While it was indeed a risk to be with him and that she feared where this fierce love would lead her… Who knew how much time she would have left in this life? This life she had never wanted…until now.

Now she had a life where she no longer stood by and did nothing. Now she could actually help other females and train them, help them find a greater purpose that was bigger than themselves.

And now she had the chance to freely love someone without the worries of status and if a man could merely provide for her for the rest of her life. Now she was able to take care of herself, while also being truly loved for who she was.

“Yes,” she replied confidently.

The joy she saw on his face…It sent her heart racing, and she never wanted to see him without such joy again.

“Are you sure you want to risk being with an extraordinarily handsome male who sends your heart aflutter with every touch and will do anything to prove his love for you?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

Cassian grinned, then brought his face down closer to hers so his breath brushed against her lips and tickled her nose. “So you admit that I am extraordinarily handsome?”

“Will you just kiss me already?”

Cassian chuckled. “Maybe I should tease you just a bit longer to give you a taste of the painful waiting I had to endure while you did the Blood Rite.”

“Cassian,” she said sternly and leaned forward to kiss him herself, but he dodged his head away from her.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you, my sweet Illyrian warrior, for completing the Rite?”

“No, but you can tell me later and just reward me now,” she requested anxiously as she wrapped her hands around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I can’t wait to see Devlon’s face when he sees you. And when you start training the Illryian females…I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself and keep my hands and lips off you,” Cassian rambled on.

“Well, there’s no need to control yourself right now,” Nesta remarked impatiently.

“How are you feeling?” he questioned her sincerely.

“Physically, I’m completely fine. Emotionally, however, I’m so frustrated, I could slap you.”

“Fine. I know how irresistable I am, so I’ll put you out of your misery.”

“How kind of you,” she said sarcastically and groaned at his pompousness, but she was interrupted by Cassian capturing her lips in a kiss, and that groan turned into a moan of pleasure.

The kiss was firmer and more passionate than the two kisses they’d previously shared since neither of them was dying this time. Cassian pushed her back against the door. With something behind her helping to support her, Cassian began to kiss her even more forcefully, as if nothing could satiate his appetite for her.

The passion and the force of his kisses nearly sent her knees buckling. Sensing her falter, Cassian ran his hand up along her thigh, sending an electrifying sensation through her body. His kisses didn’t stop as he lifted her thigh up, then wrapped both of his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her off the ground. His wings flared out behind him, and Nesta lifted both her legs to encircle them around his waist.

When he tried to pull away from her, she wouldn’t let him. Instead, she used her teeth to tug on his lower lip, eliciting a moan from him that sent a delighted thrill through her.

Eventually, Cassian managed to reluctantly pull his lips away from hers. Their faces were only an inch apart as they breathed heavily on each other. He tilted his head up at her, and Nesta rested her forehead against his.

“I love seeing you in my shirt,” he growled. “And I love you, Nesta Archeron.”

“I know,” she answered smugly. “I got your letter.”

“And what did you think of it?”

“It could’ve been written more neatly.”

This time, Cassian rolled his eyes at her.

“It was a bit long too. It nearly put me to sleep,” she added nonchalantly.

Cassian gave her a look to show he was unimpressed with her comments.

“And I don’t think I would’ve survived the Rite without it,” she finished seriously.

The amusement left Cassian’s face and was replaced with a tender expression.

“I meant what I said when I wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t survive the Rite,” he told her. “The week of the Rite was unbearable…words cannot describe how it felt to see you return.”

Nesta rubbed the back of his neck. “I may have been ill, but I meant it when I said I didn’t want to waste anymore time either.”

“Then we’ll stop wasting it,” he said in a low voice before leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline.

“I love you, Cassian,” she mumbled before pulling his face so he was back to staring right at her. With a deep inhale of his woodsy scent, she fiercely kissed his beaming face.

The End

A/N: Man, writing this fic really took over my life. I’m a bit relieved it’s over and will now probably take a break from writing Nessian :)

Thank you SO much to everyone who has read this/liked this/left comments/reblogged this! I hope you enjoyed this final part! I would love to get a comment from you and thank you personally! :)

When I first had this fic idea, I only wanted to write an angsty Nessian goodbye before the Rite and a cute reunion scene between them after Nesta survives the Rite…my how this mini fic evolved haha. I feel like the Rite is probably way more difficult than what I’ve described… I’m still learning how to write scenes that are action-y and aren’t focused on romantic drama, haha. So that’s really why I only focused on some days of the Rite for Nesta. :D

Anyway, thanks again! I hope you all have a fabulous day!

[shy-violet-soul]

Stuff You Should Be Reading - March/April 2019

So, March & April were down right disrespectful to me - May, I’ve got my eye on you. Please don’t be as rude as your siblings. Here is a very long catch up rec list. I legit was concerned my internet was going to crash because I had so many browser windows open. 

Without further ado, here are some fics that are not to be missed. Happy Reading!

Marvel:

Ways to Say I Love You by @time-travel-bouqet: Steve Rogers x reader. Heart-warming drabble where Steve anxiously awaits news of his wife & new baby.

Step with Me by @kentuckybarnes: Bucky Barnes x reader. It’s no secret I’m a sucker for a/b/o. This beautiful story stars alpha!Bucky and a stubborn omega determined to guard her heart.

Broken Mirrors by @revengingbarnes: Loki x reader. I swoon for tall, dark, and handsome. This is an amazingly creative story - I can’t wait to see where it goes!

Looking for a Heartbeat by @justreadingfics: Bucky Barnes x reader. A bit angsty, but a beautiful love story! Can’t wait to read future updates.

Swallow by @all1e23: Bucky Barnes x reader. I wasn’t sure about this due to the motorcycle club au - not always my jam. But this love story has me hooked! I tear through each update, and each one leaves me hungry for more.

Apostrophile by @all1e23: Bucky Barnes x reader. Firefighter Bucky who is also a loving dad to a precocious little girl? Who doesn’t love it?! Sweet au where Bucky and reader don’t realize they’re being match-maker’d.

A Painter’s Embrace by @tilltheendwilliwrite: Steve Rogers x ofc. Love Jane Austen? Love a/b/o? Love Marvel? This story has it all!  Alpha!Steve Rogers courts his true love in the Regency era. Each chapter leaves me swooning!

Belong to You by @papi-chulo-bucky: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x reader. Stucky x reader isn’t always my thing, but I’m a sucker for the soulmate trope. In this tale, when you meet your soulmate, you begin to hear their thoughts.

5 Times Bucky Heard You Laugh by @buchanan-jamesb: Bucky Barnes x reader. So much fluff! Title says it all.

Edge of the Water by @floatingpetals: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x reader. When the reader is targeted by an evil fiance, mermen Steve & Bucky to the rescue. The care and attention to detail in this multi-chap work are evident in each update.

Lullabies by @avengerscompound: Tony Stark x reader. In this precious, precious story, Dad Tony just wants to know his little one is ok.

A Love that Never Leaves by @bitsandbobsandstuff: Bucky Barnes x reader. This is truly one of the finest pieces of art I’ve read. While investigating a Hydra lead, Bucky crosses paths with someone from his past.

Who’s Your Daddy? by @teamcap4bucky: Steve Rogers x reader (but all the Avengers star). A precious story featuring a reader pregnant with Steve’s baby. Fluff sweetness!

Inebriated by @fanfic-scribbles: Steve Rogers x reader. This one had me snort-laughing! Very drunk reader ‘rescued’ by Steve Rogers.

Detective Steve by @kentuckybarnes: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes x reader. This is another peak into the shenanigans of Bucky and Agent 28. Nosy Steve gets a little more than he bargained for. LOVED it!

Supernatural:

Bed of Roses by @crispychrissy: Dean Winchester x reader. This is a creative take on the mobster!au. Dean starts off as a bit of a bad guy, but hang in there - this great multi-part story will have you hooked!

The Things We Don’t Believe In by @thecleverdame: Sam Winchester x reader. I’ve had the privilege of reading this completed work on the writer’s Patreon. This story is a gripping a/b/o of the Winchesters in a modern business au. Definitely a repeater, for me.

Stuffed Bunny by @luci-in-trenchcoats: Dean Winchester x reader. As someone who struggles with Anxiety Disorder, this one really resonated with me. This writer is a go-to for sweet one shots. This one about the reader’s tie to a childhood stuffie was precious.

Apple of My Eye by @bamby0304. Dean Winchester x reader. The reader was accidentally left behind in the alternate world when Balthazar zapped the boys into the tv show. Years later, she’s back in HER world. This writer does a great job letting you relive an episode from a new perspective.

Weak as I Am by @kittenofdoomage: Sam Winchester x reader. This work is a doozy, but holy crap, it’s amazing. No one packs a punch with their art they way Rhi does. The reader is tortured by Michael while he’s possessing Dean. Will she - and her relationship with Sam - ever recover?

Carry On by @acreativelydifferentlove: Dean Winchester x reader. This intense a/b/o fic kept me on the edge of my seat the whole way. Omega reader runs away from her captors straight into alpha!Dean’s arms. Will they leave her alone?

Districts & Domains by @supersleepygoat: Sam Winchester x reader. Another a/b/o tale, this writer is another master at building tension. Businessman & alpha!Sam meets his true omega in the reader. As she clings to her own personality and independence, will super-protective Sam throw their chance away?

The Mobster’s Girl series by @fictionalabyss: Sam Winchester x reader. Be warned - this mobster au has a lot of tough content (kidnapping, torture, rape, graphic injuries). The writing here is masterfully done. The writer handles very tough subjects thoughtfully and carefully. I always enjoy the new updates.

[theoriginalladya]

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for? 3. Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around? 17. What fic are you most proud of?

from these questions

1.  What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Technically, waaaaaaaaaay back in the day - I was a teenager and I’d never heard of fandoms and the Internet wasn’t around (we’re talking like early to mid-1980s here), I wrote for me, and I wrote a story set in one of VC Andrews’ worlds.  That’s all I remember about it, to be honest.  I had an old notebook, I was ‘writing’ and somewhere over the next fifteen years of college/grad school/work it was tossed. (probably just as well)  The REAL first fandom (that I can actually remember) I wrote for was Dragon Age (I’d gotten back into writing about five years prior but it was all original stuff).  The pairing was my City Elf, Shastaryn Tabris, and Alistair.  

3.  Do you write fics from start or finish, or jump around?

When I first started, I jumped around.  I wanted to get down all my thoughts and ideas before I forgot about them (which also opened the doors for more to filter in).  I think it was with Ever Constant that I actually sat down and sort of plotted out what would happen - mostly because I had to make up half the story I was going to tell and I kind of needed to know before hand.  So, I created a loose outline, mostly bits of dialogue and things I wanted to remember, and worked forward from there.  I didn’t even start posting it until I had a good 25 chapters written beforehand.  It was a challenge, forcing myself to stick to that type of structure, but it comes much more easily for me now.  Not to say I don’t write stuff down out of order to save for later! lol  My muses would never forgive me if I denied them! ;)

17.  What fic are you most proud of?

Oh, man.  I’m proud of all of them, to be honest, but if I had to pick one ...  Well, let me put it this way: I’ll pick one series - there’s a number of stories in there and still more in the works, but they’re all about the same pairing - and that’s my ShepShep series.  They started as a crazy idea - hey, what if John Shepard and Jane Shepard were actually a married couple?! - and eventually turned into my own personal therapy session.  I love those two - they fell together so easily for me and the first story (Destiny’s Road) just rolled out (the only real effort was in deciding the order of events from the game).  At the same time, I did some development of their characters and started to fill in backstory (which I’m still filling in to this day).  When I hit the Mass Effect 2 story (Destiny’s Hand), I knew it would get more complicated.  I went in knowing it would be hard and painful, but it needed to be done.  Now I’m up to Destiny’s Fate, their ME3 story.  This one is going ot be a doozy!  I’ve put a lot of heart, soul, sweat and tears into their fics, but in the end, I know I’m going to be the most proud of them as a whole.  

Thanks for the questions!!!

[tumbler-tidbits]

1)Mr.Quackers by @impala-dreamer

Link: HERE

Summary: None lol

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: NSFW SMUT, Crack!Fic, hilarity

My Review: They say that crack is whack, well in this case quack is whack 😂😂 This little drabble with have you laughing until you cry, it’s just that ducking funny! (See what I did there?)

2)So Good Dean by @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

Link: HERE

Summary: This moment was something completely new to Dean

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: sex toys, vibrator, prostate milking, Dom/sub elements, sub!Dean, praise kink

My Review: Ok so most of us have an affinity to Dom!Dean but Sub!Dean can be just as sexy when done correctly and by God does Sundae do it correctly! This is so fucking erotic it will make you wet! No joke it’s AMAZING!!

3)Helping Hand by @bamby0304

Link: HERE

Summary: You’re frustrated. You need sex, you need that release, but you just can’t get yourself there. It just doesn’t feel… right. Sam notices your change in mood and tries to get you to tell him what’s wrong. When you open up, admit everything to him, you expect awkwardness and tension… instead, Sam lends a helping hand.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Sexually frustrated reader. Low self-esteem issues. Sam questioning himself. A bit of angst. Tiniest amount of crack. Some added fluff. Smut. Way more plot than I’d intended. Explicit language. Fingering. Squirting. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people). Seriously... the plot got away from me.

My Review: whew this one is a doozy! Friends with benefits gets the pair into a very erotic situation! This one is gonna leave you sweating and needy let me tell ya! And as if Amber didn’t do enough to get us all hot and bothered, she adds on the fluff at the end that just makes you go “awwwe” 🥰

4)Fine by @kittenofdoomage

Link: HERE

Summary: Boy loves girl, girl loves boy; boy feels he’s not worth it, girl thinks she’s not his standard. This is the tale of how they realize they’re idiots.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Warnings: angst (a smidge), smut, drunken sexual encounters, fluff. Dean being sexy as all fuck and Sam being a cockblock.

My Review: ok as a plus sized gal these fics have a special spot in my heart and boy this one does not disappoint! Who hasn’t dreamed of Dean pining over them, defending them, and making love to them? Well you get it all in this one! The special meaning of the title is revealed and makes the story that much more passionate. This one is smoking ladies and gents!

5)With Wolves Series by @bamby0304

Link: HERE

Summary: Known as The Omen, your reputation puts fear in some of the most dangerous and deadly Alphas. So when you’re caught and sent to the worst maximum security facility unknown to man, no one expected an unclaimed Omega to walk through the gates in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. Word circulates, and before long there’s a price on your head. Who will claim the untamed Omega?

Characters: Alpha!Dean, Alpha!Sam, Omega!Reader, numerous Alpha and Beta characters

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics. Heat. Rut. Knotting. Marking. Explicit language. Imprisonment. Violence. Angst. Assault. Blood. Murder. Death. Smut. Poly relationship. Medical procedures. Medicinal drugs. Each chapter will have it’s own warnings as this is just a brief list. Please read each chapter’s warnings carefully. There will be triggering content

My Review: If you love angst, smut, passion, and a smidge of fluff then this series is for you! I cannot express how much I loved reading this! I laughed, I cried, and if we’re being totally honest I had to change my panties on more than one occasion! Amber paints an incredible AU with all our favorite and not so favorite characters, a seriously genius plot line and backstory and some of the best smut you will ever read! Hands down you must binge this series! YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT! P.S she even has a set of visuals for the series!

6)Knot Gonna Hurt Me by @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid

Link: HERE

Summary: Sam doesn’t want to hurt his young Omega

Pairing: Alpha!Sam x Virgin!Omega!Reader

Warnings:  first time, abo dynamics, unprotected sex, nipple play, claiming, scenting, fingering, oral sex on a female, age difference, virgin!reader

My Review: This one is soooo passionate! Sam is extra gentle and caring and has to be convinced by his Omega that he will not Hurt her during their first time together. Fluffy feels and hot smut, you can’t go wrong!

7)Journal of Letters by @curly-haired-disaster

Link: Tumblr seems to have eaten the Masterlist for this drabble series, we are working on locating it and I will update when we do 😊

Summary: None

Pairing: None

Warnings: SPN level violence, mentions of suicide/self harm, graphic depictions of violence.

My Review: This series of drabbles takes you on an incredible, infuriatingly confusing journey! Told by way of Journal entries, things just keep getting weirder! Can you put together the pieces and solve the puzzle? Grab some internet because trust me, you WILL start seeking Google for help!

8)I Dream of Cock by @supernatural-teamfreewillpage

Link: HERE

Summary: y/n has a very very weird dream that she kinda explains to the boys and she’s mad and disappointed when she wakes up to find she didn’t really have one instead she had something else.

Pairing: None

Warnings: Porn Crack- Cocks, Dicks, Dildos, The Big Rooster, But its all crack no smut

My Review: Ok y’all if you want to die laughing you MUST read this 😂. Ash is very Brash and it makes for some hilarious dialogue not to mention Sam and Deans reactions. This one is a side tickler for sure!

9)Christening by @kittenofdoomage

Link:HERE

Summary:This is entirely written for @oriona75 as part of her birthday present, with the final chapter coming on the day of her birth, the 27th October. The premise - Sam and the reader have just bought their first house, and Sam is intent on christening every room

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Smut all the way through

My Review: Ever dreamed of having sex in EVERY room of the house? No? Well when you move in with Sam Winchester you’ll be a hot mess! Keep the spare panties handy folks, these are hot!

10)Bite Me by @maddiepants

Link: HERE

Summary:This short story came from a conversation with @closetspngirl about Jensen's perfect teeth. I hope you don't that I changed it to Dean.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, biting, Dean's mouth (yes that's a warning)

My Review: Got a bit of an oral fixation? Then this is the drabble for you! Erica’s words are so descriptive that you can feel what is being done in the words she writes! So erotic, so sexy, and oh yeah it’s a panty soaker!

11)Take Care of You by @dean-winchesters-bacon

Link: HERE

Summary: Dean hasn’t been himself since Michael possessed him so the reader takes him on a little getaway.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Warnings: Smut, Explicit Language, Oral (Male Receiving), Fingering

My Review: This one is so sweet and fluffy! Set during the current season the reader takes Dean to a cabin to get him out of his room! I love how Kat sets the scene, she clearly paints a picture as if you were watching an episode! There are tons of fun little quips and dialogue that make you laugh, And let’s not forgot the sexy AF smut! Bonus... there’s a sweet surprise ending ❤️

Taglist: @idreamofplaid  @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants​  @pisces-cutie​  @covered-byroses @currentlyfangirling99 @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​  @spnmightkillme @spnfamily-alwayskeepfighting @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @xxhalfbloodprincessxx @supernaturalsammy01 @sammyimpala-67 @lunarboycas​  @ladywinchester1967 @sweetiepie-dean @fangirl-forevers-world  @thoughtslikeaminefield @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @supernaturalsammy01​ @ruthiesconnells​ @bobasheebaby​ @evansrogerskitten​ @missjenniferb​  @sculptorofbeginnings​ @kbl1313  @spnskinnyballs @getnaildbyme

[ilovethings-somuch]

The Home Stretch (2/3)

Chris Evans x Reader (Sebastian Stan x Reader!platonic)

Anon asked: “Hi! I’m almost done reading all of your fics/one shots and I love them all! I was just wondering if you could do a one shot/mini series where the reader is engaged to Chris and is pregnant like 5/6 months and the reader found out he cheated and left him, then goes to live with Sebastian Stan until she thinks of what she and chris would do, then she’s about to give birth and Chris came just in time. Idk just a lot of fluff and angst. The rest is up to you, you write amazingly anyway ❤️”

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter, but it’s full on angst and we’re preparing for part 3 which is a doozy. I also played around with perspectives a little at the end cause I wasn’t sure how else to include that part and I really needed that idea so yeah, I hope it isn’t confusing and I’d love to hear what you all think of this chapter! 

(Charter one)

As it got closer to 3 and me and Sebastian were back at his apartment I started getting more and more anxious about Chris’ call. He had to know I was upset. He had to know what I was upset about, but if he wasn’t willing to bring it up, was I strong enough to? I had to be. I knew that if I didn’t talk to him this would just eat away at me even more and lead to way more stress than this baby should have to go through. I abandoned Sebastian in the living room to wait for Chris’ call around 3:15. I was pacing back and forth, phone in hand, when it started ringing with a facetime call. I took a deep breath and sat down on the bed before answering the call.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Chris said, charming as ever, as soon as the video connected.

“Hi Chris,” I replied.

“Uh oh, Dodger heard you,” he flipped the screen so that I could see Dodger’s whole body wiggling with excitement as he heard me over the phone.

“Hi baby, is your dad being good to you?” I cooed at him, making Chris laugh before Dodger tried to lick the screen and Chris pulled his phone away and flipped it so the camera was back on him.

“So what did you want to talk about? It sounded pretty serious.”

“Right, um,” I stalled and got out of the bed to start pacing again.

“Are you pacing? This must really be bad? Please tell me you and the baby are okay.”

“The baby’s fine,” I assured him quickly.

“Okay, are you fine though?”

I willed back the tears before setting my jaw and looking back at him through the camera, “I saw a photo of you kissing another girl in a bar the other night.”

His facial expression didn’t change from the concerned look he had been wearing before, but I could see the color rush out of his face and the vein on his neck seemed to stand to attention.

“Please say something,” my voice cracked and his facade seemed to break along with it.

His face pinched in on itself as he squeezed his eyes shut. I watched as tears began to fall and I had to remind myself that I was not the one who caused this pain. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a choked sob. It was hard to watch and all I wanted to do was forgive him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it just yet.

“I was just a kiss, I swear,” he told me finally.

“It’s never just a kiss,” I said before I could stop myself. The coldness that was present in my voice was something even I wasn’t expecting, but even so, my eyes began to burn hot with tears.

“I know, I know, but really it was. I was drunk, fuck, I was so drunk I don’t even remember how it happened. Baby, please, it didn’t mean anything. I miss you so much and I was lonely and drunk and all I wanted was you.”

“You could have called me,” I said, pleading as the tears began to flow.

“I know. I should have called you. I was stupid and I made a mistake.”

“You should have told me. When it happened. I shouldn’t have had to find out from someone else who knows how long after the fact.”

“It was just the other night. I was going to tell you. Really, really I was, I just couldn’t figure out how.” I didn’t say anything for a while, I wasn’t sure what else needed to be said. I was crying freely at that point and Chris was doing the same. “Please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen, it was a stupid kiss. Please, please forgive me.”

“I want to,” I said softly.

“Thank--” he started.

“But I can’t right now,” I finished, interrupting him. He seemed to process that slowly and it took awhile for him to respond.

“But someday, I can fix this?” He asked.

“I hope so,” I told him honestly. He nodded slowly and we were both silent again.

“Shit,” he said, but it was clearly not to me, as he wiped his hand down his face. “They’re calling me back to set, but if I hang up I don’t know when you’ll talk to me again.”

My heart broke at his honesty and again I just wanted to forgive him, but I knew I would regret it if I gave in that easily, so instead, I told him, “I don’t think I can talk to you again today. We can try again tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m done. It shouldn’t be too late,” That was when I was supposed to say ‘I love you’ and then he would say it back and then we’d smile sweetly at each other as we hung up, but today I just nodded. “Okay, well, I love you. You don’t have to say it back right now, I just want you to know that I still do. I love you so much,” he sighed when he realized that I really wasn’t going to say it back. “Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow,” he gave me a soft smile then and hung up before I could reply.

Chris kept his promise and continued his old habit of calling me every night when he got done on set. Most days we didn’t talk about anything important, just useless information about what we each did that day. We talked about the baby a lot too. In those moments it was easy to imagine our life together once again, but when he would say I love you and I still couldn’t say it back. Chris also seemed to know that I was in New York and not at home, but we never really talked about it and he never explicitly asked where I was. It's not that I was trying to keep the fact that I was staying with Sebastian from him, it just didn't come up right away, and then after a couple days, I didn't know how to bring it up without it sounding like it was something more than it was.

*3rd Person*

“I fucked up man,” Chris told Sebastian over the phone.

“Uh, yeah. I heard,” Sebastian replied cautiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I uh- I was calling (y/n) about something else right around when she found out and she told me what happened and that she packed a bag and was just going to drive until she got tired, but I didn’t think that was a good idea so I told her to come to New York,” Sebastian explained slowly.

“So she’s staying…” Chris trailed off and let Sebastian finish the statement.

“In my guest room.”

“In your guest room,” Chris repeated slowly.

“C’mon man, it’s not a big deal. I just thought it would be better if she wasn’t alone and she doesn’t have a lot of friends on this coast yet.”

“No, I know. You’re right, it’s just, I’m realizing more and more every day how much I hurt her and I don’t want to do that. I never wanted to do it, to begin with, but now it happened and I have to try to figure out how to fix it, but I don’t even know if that’s what she wants.”

“She does,” Sebastian told Chris.

“I don’t know. She won’t even tell me she loves me anymore.”

“She told me,” Sebastian was going to stop there and then realized how bad that sounded. “I mean, she told me that she still loves you.”

“She did?”

“She did. I think she just doesn’t know how to forgive you, but she wants to.”

“She wants to,” Chris said to himself in partial disbelief. “Wow, thank you Seb, I don’t- I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“So you’re going to fix this, right? ‘Cause as much as I love (y/n), I kind of want my apartment back,” Sebastian added with a laugh.

“She alphabetized your pantry didn’t she?” Chris asked knowingly.

“Literally within the first hour, she was here. I don’t even think she ate anything, just had to organize.”

“That sounds about right,” Chris laughed before quieting down to answer Sebastian’s previous question. “Yes, I’m going to fix this. I just need to figure out how.”

(Chapter Three)

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