#if not or hopefully as well some references dropped sometimes too for the continuity I don’t need much to be super happy

[galactic-pirates]

[idontplaytrack]

Running through my brain

Janis ‘Imi’ike x fem! reader (+older sister Regina)

Warnings: some coarse language, fluff, mention of a family member’s passing & divorce.

First date! Read part one here / part three

(Pictures used are from Pinterest & Auli’i’s IG)

“Remind me…is she picking you up or do I have to drop you off?” Regina asks, knowingly. Wanting to poke fun at you and see you get flustered at the thought of Janis.

“She’s picking me up, stop that.”

“Getting to see you so happy? Never stopping this.” Regina chuckles over her words.

“I’m nervous.”

“And that’s fine!” Regina assured, “As long as you don’t puke on her.”

You looked at her absolutely horrified at the possibility, it did happen once in first grade for an entirely different reason— but it happened, you’d puked in class due to nerves or stress, or both.

“Stoooop.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.” Regina threw her hands up in mock surrender. “Just have fun today, okay. It’s pretty clear to me she feels the same way or is at least interested in getting to know you better. You have plenty of time.”

You exhaled a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding, “Guess so, thanks, Reg.”

At this moment, you got a text from Janis saying that she’d arrived so you gave Regina a quick hug goodbye and left the house. “Hi!” Janis exclaimed while you walked closer to her car.

“Hey.” You replied, smiling slightly while you opened the door and got into the front seat with her. The drive was silent for awhile, but Janis didn’t seem to mind that you weren’t talking. While she was comfortable with it, you felt that the lack of a conversation was tense.

“So…have you decided what we should have for lunch yet?” You decided to break the silence.

“Well, there’s this new Mexican place at the mall. Along the promenade…heard it’s pretty good. You wanna try?”

You knew which establishment she was referring to. You saw it two weeks ago when you were at the mall with Regina. There was a bit of a line, so you guys didn’t get to try it then since the hunger got the best of you both and you decided to go somewhere else without a wait time.

“Okay, though there was a bit of a line when I passed by that place two weeks ago. So hopefully the hype’s died down a bit.”

Janis nods, “We’ll go check it out, if the line’s still too long we’ll eat somewhere else.”

“Oh, you didn’t tell—”

Janis says, biting back a laugh, “Oh, no, I don’t have to tell him everything. He’s already annoying you now, imagine what it would be like if I had told him? He would probably have shown up just to see how things are going.”

You chuckled, “He’s um…very supportive.”

“More like annoying. I need some peace and quiet sometimes…the last thing I need while spending time with you is his excited yapping.” Janis continues.

You heart skipped a beat hearing her say those words, gripping tightly onto your fork, you ate another mouthful of the food while your eyes stayed focused on her as she spoke.

“As if I don’t have enough worries running through my brain thinking about how to talk to you without seeming like a weirdo.” She murmurs. You could barely hear any of what she’d just said.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She brushes it off, “Not important.”

“Oh.” You exhaled, reaching for your drink. “Okay.”

“So…where do you wanna go after this?” She asked, back to her previous excitement in tone.

“Uh, probably just walk around here for a bit?”

“Sounds good.” Janis shrugs, checking her phone that just buzzed in her hand, “Did…your sister just follow me on Instagram?”

You took a peek at the screen, “Oh, yeah. That’s her.”

“Why? Does she not trust me? I mean— of course, but come on!” She bursts into a bit of laughter at the end. You couldn’t help it but laugh as well, “I dunno. I never really know what she’s thinking anyway. She seems to keep all her problems to herself and still has to help me with mine.”

Janis sighs softly, “I uh, I heard about your mom and dad getting divorced. And I’m sorry, that’s got to be really difficult.”

Woah, now. The conversations took a very non-lighthearted turn. “Um…” You began, “It- it was. But now after some time, I’ve just became a very angry person honestly. They were both at fault, though to me, my Dad was worse. But our relationship with mom is still pretty bad. After our Dad left, she literally just left me under Regina’s care most of the time while she’s off somewhere to ‘clear her mind’.”

“I shouldn’t have talked about that, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, “I’m not sad, I’m just angry honestly. I don’t have a problem talking about it.”

Janis nodded solemnly, “Well, for me, my Mom died when I was in second grade. Along with my baby sister. She went to the hospital to have my sister and she just never came home. I couldn’t understand, but I knew she was gone and I was crying for like, days.”

“Oh.”

Shit.

“What are we doing? We came out to have a good time and now we’re making ourselves upset.” Janis breathes out heavily, you saw her gulp, looking up to fan the forming tears away.

‘Don’t cry, y/n.’

‘Don’t cry.’

‘Don’t cry. You can’t cry.’

Your memory of her Mom was so vague because of how young you were, and you and Regina were rarely at her place too. Janis always came over to yours. You felt bad for not being able to remember much, if at all. But more so because she was crying.

“I’m okay.” She looked at you, noticing how worried you looked. “y/n.” She chuckles, “I’m fine, I’ll always miss her and I’ll always get a little teary eyed, because she’s my Mom, but— I promise you, I’m okay.”

She reaches out to put her hand on yours, giving it a squeeze. “Look at me. I’m good, okay?”

“Okay.” You muttered, squeezing her hand back. She smiles, making you do the same thing.

————

“You wanna go on the ferris wheel?” She asks.

“The—” You looked up, pointing at it.

“Yeah.” Janis nodded eagerly, “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’m right here with you, you’ll be fine.”

Heights. You had a fear of heights.

Yet, you pushed that aside and trusted that you would be okay as long as she was with you. And that you would keep your eyes anywhere but look outside. You really liked her that much, huh.

She breaks into a little smile when she caught you staring at her, but right now it was more of you being scared shitless about looking outside and possibly downwards. “Having fun there?” She teased.

“No.” You admitted, “Not really. I may have a fear of heights,”

“Damn.” She says, beside you, “And you chose to come on here instead of rejecting the idea?”

“I dunno, I’m stupid.” You stared at the floor. Then you feel her arm go around your waist, “Well…I don’t think you’re stupid. I think it was pretty sweet that you chose to face your fear. And so brave.”

You eased up a little bit feeling her touch. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know?”

“I’m not lying.” She says, earnest.

You only shrug, leaning onto her more now. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you. I don’t want your sister to kill me, you know?”

You giggled, resting your head on her shoulder as you recalled what happened so far today. She doesn’t move away, so you two stayed like that for a good part of the ride back down to the ground.

After the ferris wheel, you dragged her to go play a game. And though she was reluctant at first, she eventually gave in and just played the game so she could win you a prize. You told her it was fine after three failed rounds, but then she just got so determined to win you something that she said she didn’t want to leave until she had one of those stuffed animals in her hands.

“Janis, it’s okay! Let’s just go get something to eat.” You spoke over the commotion.

“Nope! You want something, you’re gonna get something.” She disagrees.

Twenty dollars later, Janis left satisfied, handing the plush over to you. “Now we can go grab a snack.”

“Alright then.” You say, impressed, “Thanks, Jan.”

“You’re welcome.” She grins, arm finding its way over your shoulders.

Does this mean anything? Should I tell her I like her? Is it too soon? Is she doing this because she feels the same way? Or is this just a friend thing?

Those thoughts came back to irritate you again, you shook your head as though to get rid of them while you walked towards a food stall with Janis. You two got deep fried oreos to share, then sat down at a bench to rest your feet. It was quite crowded, so you guys were lucky a group of people just finished their food and left the bench.

“Are you okay?” Janis asks, mouth filled with the snack, “Tired?”

“A little. But yeah, I’m alright.”

“Eh, we’ll get going after this. You want anything else?” She chuckles over her words. You could feel her still watching you closely.

You guys have been out almost all day.

“Hey. What’s on your bucket list?”

“Never really had one, to be honest. I mean, the only thing I’ve really been wanting to do was to go back home. Like— to Hawai’i. I haven’t been able to go back there, not because me and my Dad can’t afford it, fortunately. But because I cannot muster up enough courage to go back to where I lost— you know what? Never mind I don’t want to bring that up again and upset us both. I don’t want to end the night on such a heavy note.”

“You don’t have to say it. I get it, and I hope one day, you’ll be able to go back there and see your home again because I get how it feels to have a home and not be able to go home to it, not being to go home to it and have it feel like home, but something else so…painful.”

“You’re so sweet.” Janis smiles to herself, handing you a fork with a fried oreo on it. You took it from her silently. “What about you? What’s on your bucket list?”

“To visit all the Disney parks in the world? I don’t know, okay? It just sounds so trivial after what you told me.” You tried not to laugh at yourself.

“Hey, it’s your bucket list.” She points out, “Don’t feel bad about it.”

Tossing the takeout box into a trash can, Janis walks back to her car with. She unlocks the doors with her keys and you got in, buckling up and holding the slightly oversized Squishmallow on your lap. You nodded off for a part of the drive, and when she was just a few minutes away from your house, you woke up.

Again, you could feel eyes on you. So you turned your head and snuck a glance at her. She didn’t even look away, “Hey.”

You gave her a sleepy smile and nodded off again while hugging the toy in your lap. She laughs to herself, “Very comfy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled.

Janis had to wake you up after pulling up to the front of your house. “Come on!” She tugs on your arm dramatically, “Your bed’s right upstairs~”

You woke up and sulked.

“Don’t act cute with me.” She pursed her lips together to hide the smile. “Come on, go up, go to bed.”

“Can you spend the night?” You asked without thinking twice.

Woah?

“No, I don’t think Regina would like that.”

“I would like that.” You got out of the car.

“I’ll come by tomorrow?” She suggests.

You gave in, “Okay.”

“Okay.” She confirmed, engulfing you in a hug before you fully left the front yard. “Good night, silly.”

“Silly.” You giggled to yourself, hugging her back.

“Wow, you really need to get some sleep.” She mumbles, “Okay, sleep tight. I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Bye, Jan.” You told her happily, turning around and walking up the porch, unlocking the front door.

“How was your date?” You hear Regina the second you stepped inside the house. Cady was beside her.

“Great.” You answered with no hesitation, too tired to even have a filter on your words. With that, you went right upstairs to your room to wash up and got dressed in pajamas for bed. Plopping face down onto the very comfortable Squishmallow, you were just about to go fall asleep once again when your phone went off.

Janis decides to take the leap and make a little bit of a move, though now a little more anxious than she liked to be while awaiting a response from you.

She had expected you to be asleep already so when she saw the typing indicator pop up, her sleepiness went away immediately. You on the other hand, was feeling as calm as you could be. But absolutely bursting with excitement and joy. Perhaps you just needed to be sleepy enough to let your guard down and stop worrying. Chuckling to yourself, you typed a reply for her and sent it.

The typing indicator disappears from Janis’ screen and then, this pops up for her.

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

💭A/N:

Part 2!!

(Peep the contact name changes😗)

[sdyuteiaok]

All right, MTGinktober 9 in the books. But there's no time to reflect too deeply--so hopefully we can stave off the post-Inktober depression--cuz it's time to get back on the virtual phone-banking campaign trail. I signed up for two shifts today since apparently I didn't have anything scheduled until the weekend--I was surprised there weren't events all day, but I realized it's Friday, so even if there were, it doesn't make sense to bug voters during the day--those almost always don't go well the few times I've done it, and you risk annoying voters more than anything, and I'm sure the places we're calling are already inundated with contacts. So the marathon starts a little later in the day, but I've also got an additional meeting for my longest-standing group, since I volunteered to do some additional work for them. As for Inktober, as always, we close with a whimper. We only had a couple mega hits, but a lot of sorta regular responses, and only a couple duds, too, but even those have picked up over time. You have to allow for people to discover these things, so sometimes it can take a tiny bit before a piece finds its legs. Anyway, I always sorta take at least a quick accounting of how things went, even if I don't have time to get into my feelings on everything, and I'm happy to report that this was physically maybe the best Inktober in a while--no real pain past the first week while my body adjusted to the pace and intensity, and even my fingers stopped losing their numbness, so my hand really stepped up. No back or shoulder pain at any time, either. The only difficulty was the sheer exhaustion towards the end, but even then, we were able to power through. I used chocolate milk this time, no energy drinks of any kind for once, and that and adrenaline did the trick just fine. And then this was also the neatest MTGinkotber: no serious smears, except for the one on Camp, and no errors or goofs (like two left hands, forgotten costume part), aside from some eraser gunk getting in one of my scans, and then that one time I accidentally closed CSP without saving my organized references. So pretty successful all around, and while I've enjoyed the 'Gram feature of being able to pair your art with music, this has affirmed that it's time to wind down that service. I used to get some 30x the engagement, and now I can barely scrape together one or two likes per image, and the insights say maybe 10 people are seeing these things, so it's clear the platform isn't putting my stuff out there, so I'm not going to fight it. I wonder if it has something to do with my settings, but who knows. It's supremely frustrating, as Instagram used to be quite populous, but it's just hollowed out, and I certainly hear that from other artists, too, including their viewership tanking. I suppose I could try some video-based stuff, but I have zero time to prepare that kind of thing most days during Inktober. I tried mocking up a little 3-second process video, but it's just annoying and probably not even too compelling. If I had an assistant, or more time, mize, but it's just me doing everything, and I'd rather spend that on the actual art than all this showboating. Anyway, good year personally, but I believe next year will be the finale, as I can't justify continuing to do this, I hate to admit. Anyway, let's get back to campaigning already--I have a lot of news to catch up on, too, as again, I drop just about everything for Inktober, so for a month I'm kind of a low-info voter.

[darudedogestorm]

This post reminded me of a thing i wrote like several months ago regarding warriors name headcanons. I'm going to rewrite it, especially because that post gave me a lot of inspiration, but I like it enough in its current state to share it as is for the moment.

Under the cut: the history of the five clans' naming system, written in a way that was not intended to stray too far from how names look or act in canon (but hopefully enhances it). It was written for a scenario where clans are much larger than in canon, but that isn't necessary for understanding. Starts in the DotC era (you do not need to have read DotC to understand, either).

Names are undoubtedly the most important part of the clans' shared culture. Where rogues and kittypets often live and die by their milk names, a clan cat's name changes throughout their life many times over. So important is a name to a cat's life and status, even their own kits will refer to them by their clan name rather than 'mother', 'father', or 'parent'. One is a cat for their clan before they are a cat for themself.

In the earliest days of the clans, the culture around naming was very different. The cats from the mountains bore two part names most similar to modern clans, which usually denoted familial relations or expectations. You could generally expect Smooth Stone to be related to Jagged Stone and Soft Stone. In contrast, cats of the forest bore shorter and more practical names, usually earned after a kithood spent nameless. Usually, they would name themselves after a physical trait or geographical trait. The more notorious cats were named after their feats. "Blue" is not a name to run from. "Fox" probably is. "Ripper" definitely is.

As the two populations merged, the earliest examples of name changes occurred. Cats of proto-clans would often change their names with their loyalties, to establish an identity within their new group separate from their past. In a continuation of forest cat tradition, some cats who accomplished significant feats were renamed after it, sometimes with the two-part mountain cat flair.

The first instances of true rank-based name changes were not seen until after the Great War. Though the cats had, for the most part, pledged themselves to the stars and to each other, tensions still remained. After an unfortunate incident resulting in the deaths of some kits, queens of the proto-clans successfully petitioned for a rule that would protect young cats (under 6 moons) from conflict. Thus, the ~kit suffix was born (as well as the implementation of rank-based accessories, but that is an explanation for another time). The suffix would be lifted at 6 moons, and the cat would receive their full name. (By this point, two-part names were more common than not).

With Moth Flight's discovery of the Moonstone, direct communication with StarClan was now possible. This eventually gave way to the ~star suffix: referring to the feat of being "blessed by the stars".

As the social hierarchy and organization of the clans grew more complex, greater distinction was needed to determine another cat's status within a clan. This is the point where the rest of the basics of clan naming tradition formed. The mountain cat tradition of family-based names had largely been dropped, replaced by the more descriptive forest cat names.

The gradient between "small kitten, do not engage" and "distinguished member of society" was now a solidly formed stage of life: apprentices, whose "~paws" were yet guiding them to their calling. This was the time in a clan cat's life to, literally, make a name for themself, as they found their place in clan society and solidified their identities in the eyes of their peers.

Modern naming conventions for warriors (a general term referring to all ranks above apprentice) varies greatly between clans, and even between time periods. Because they are achievement, appearance, and personality based, there are a great deal of suffixes to be earned. Moreover, changing trends, interpretations, and values have led to a wide variety of names. Let's look at some examples:

The most famous example of a suffix with changing implications is "~frost". Originally meaning 'aloof' or 'coldhearted', the name fell out of use because the idea behind it felt a little pejorative. It was later revived under a new interpretation: "clever". One who is able to separate themself from an emotive or intense situation, and think logically.

Some suffixes are clan specific. "~stream" famously never sees use outside of RiverClan, where it is used to refer to a talented swimmer. It has also generally retained its meaning throughout all of known history, except under one leader who idiosyncratically used it to mean "one who both swims and hunts".

Similarly, "~breeze" ("a swift runner") is very seldom seen outside of WindClan: other clans do not have the wide open spaces to facilitate use for the skill, nor do they much care to. There is record of one cat outside of WindClan to earn it: Windbreeze, a ThunderClan warrior who was half WindClan. Whether this was meant maliciously or honestly is unclear.

[ssplague]

Chapter 11

Masterlist

❣️🔻Trigger warnings🔻❣️

Sex, manipulation, toxic relationships, yandere, romanticized abuse, verbal abuse, degradation, Narcissistic family, mental illness/instability, delusional thinking, drug use leading to inevitable abuse, hallucinations, gas lighting, brief reference of suicidal ideation(past), fractured psyche, co-dependency, enabling

❣️💌 I’ve gotten so many comments on these most recent chapters, reblogs galore, & even some asks too! I’m getting all sappy’n teary eyed 🥺 to be receiving all this positive feedback and encouragement from you guys 😭 So please keep your replies coming, and In turn I promise to keep cranking out new Chapters 💋❤️‍🔥🥰

P.S. I’m rewarding you with a chapter that’s pretty much an entire lemon 🍋 👉🏼👌🏼Enjoy~❣️📮

📑 HONORABLE MENTIONS📭

@angie-1306 @marifujioka @im1nobody @atmyhet @elaineplayz @rainstorm22 @bi-polar-pandas @itadakimasu@winchescumberholland @po3ticb3auty @maggiecc @lordmypantsaresocool @shoslutt@venussakura @comfycozy @lilmad13 @lunamoonbby @youdoyou-andiwilldome @bookandstar @coffeeginie @bubblebombxbitch @ss-akii @lizethecookie01 @presidentmonica @villaness-noble-girl @girlwithnokatsuki @wolfunderthetree

🕯 🚪 🧺 🤲🏻

The spare key Bakugou keeps in your room (As if he’d ever be stupid enough to lock himself out) comes in handy for what you’ve got planned. First you start with the menial tasks; Tidying up, vacuuming, stripping the bed, taking the blanket and sheets down with the rest of his laundry that needs to be done. After doing the washing, you put away his clothes and remake the bed.

Share his burden, make things easier on him, he’s trying so hard.

You nod your head as you look around the room, still so full of energy. Now you just need to get yourself ready and then everything will be perfect.

Katsuki was exhausted, and beyond frustrated with the day he’d had; His hands ached from over using his quirk and he just wants to be back in his room already. Back with you.

You’d called him fifteen minutes ago, and he’d told you he would be back in thirty, which was true.

Although, you were talking so fast he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard anything you’d said other than; “Okay, I’m in your room already come straight up stairs when you get here, Kayloveyoubye”.

You were weird sometimes…like the other night when he’d taken you out, the fuck was all that about? He didn’t feel like contemplating it, hopefully you were more compliant than combative tonight.

Opening the door to his room he noticed the lights had been dimmed and a couple scented candles were lit on his desk and nightstand. The mixture of vanilla and lavender scents calming his nerves as he steps inside and drops his bag on the floor.

“Um…w..welcome back” your nervous voice greets him as you exit the en-suite. You have on a flimsy silk robe that threatens to fall open as you hurry across the room towards him, “Sit down, you look like you had a rough day…wanna tell me about it?”.

The grouchy hero to-be allows you to fuss over him, while he complains about each person, amongst a slew of various incidents that had invoked his ire since the sun rose. Stopping mid rant when you start massaging his aching hands, “The fuck are you doing?! That hurts dammit”. Refusing to let go of the appendage as you explain that it will help with pain of his strained joints and aching tendons, as well as improve blood flow, in turn bettering circulation throughout his entire limb, which will combine to help him feel better faster, after the strain caused from continuous over using of his quirk. He’s huffy but allows you to continue, watching you help him relax. You are so dillegent with your work that you fail to notice your robe started to fall open, giving him a glimpse of what you had hidden underneath. Using his free hand, he successfully gets one of your shoulders out from beneath the offending fabric, before you start to slap at him “Katsuki, im not done, stop!”. Now that he’s seen one tit, he’s a man on a mission; “C’mon babe you fixed my hands, got my blood circulating somewhere else now..”. Your hands are so small compared to his; They’re soft like velvet, unlike his own which are more akin to sandpaper with their rough, callouses. His patience has worn thin, he wants to feel those dainty fingers working his shaft, and cupping his balls.

Well this was what your plan was leading up to all along, but you were enjoying the rare intimacy the two of you shared with clothes on.

Oh well, can’t be helped now…

“I wanted to tell you something, something important” you say as he pushes the robe off your other shoulder. “Then stop stalling and say it” he snaps, grabbing at your chest. He’s not even trying to be gentle or careful with you, as he now mouthed your left tit “Well?”.

You want to cry, and you aren’t entirely sure why? Or where the feeling is coming from?

Best to just push it aside.

��I just…I wanted to apologize to you, not just for the other night but…well for the whole time we’ve been together really…” you pause as he pushes you down on the pillows, halfway laying his body on your’s, with his head on your chest. Once he has your nipple comfortably in his mouth, he hums, encouraging you to continue, red eyes slightly hooded but still giving you their undivided attention. “I havent been properly supportive of you as a good lover is supposed to be…and I hurt you immensely, it was all so stupid of me…and I’m sorry” you begin carding your fingers through his messy blonde hair, the sigh he lets out of his nose tickles your skin. It’s all you can do not to moan as the suckling on your nipple begins again.

“I owe you for everything you’ve done for me…I never told you that you saved my life, and if I hadn’t said anything you never would have found out” you ignore the concerned noise he makes, focusing on massaging his scalp as you force yourself to continue “I.. I almost listened to what they were telling me to do, almost believed that no one would actually miss me or be better off without me…Then I remembered you, and you took me in when I showed up on your doorstep, you wanted me, you loved me when no one else did…I’m always going to be grateful for that…I love you so much…even though I’m such a broken mess, you still want me around…I don’t want you to leave me alone…don’t wanna be without you…So I’ll do whatever you want or become whatever you need me to, just so you’ll let me stay by your side”.

“You really mean that?”

His hands gently cradle each of your cheeks, as he stares into your eyes. Initially, the sudden invasion of your personal space was off putting, but you’d gotten used to it as Katsuki’s prone to getting in your face a lot, he’s just prone to being as close to you as he can get most of the time. Like right now, when he’s looking at you with slight traces of desperation in his expression, parts of him are twitching with excitement and nervousness.

“Yes, I absolutely do…every.single.word” he keeps you from capturing his lips, much to your frustration. He’s searching your eyes for something…deception? Trickery?

You weren’t as broken as you seemed to believe you were, but Katsuki could work with it. You were so willing to be entirely his, so devoted to his happiness, it was surreal. He’d grown up seeing his father adore his mother like this…and now he too had someone who would never deem he was “too much”, or ever having to worry about them disappearing some day. In all honesty, he was just as terrified of losing you as you were of losing him. You’d already thrown him away once…he had to ensure it would never happen again. Now that you believed you needed him, he could relax some.

“I was your savior without even knowing it, hah?” He jokes, smirking before continuing “Guess that makes me a pretty Fuckin’ great hero to be”.

“The best” you immediately follow up with, wearing that smile that’s just for him “You’re always going to be my perfect hero, and all mine of course…”.

He visibly perks up at this, and you notice, so you decided to test your new theory; “The strongest, smartest, sexiest, man I’d ever give the pleasure of being inside of me, the only one I’ll want till the end of my days”.

Oh ho, where’d this confidence come from? You had a rough idea, normally you’d never say something so racy.

Katsuki was eating it up though, his darkening red eyes making your stomach twist into knots.

“I know that’s fuckin right, I’m the only one worthy of touching you, loving you, fucking you…Just me, right princess?” He asks, as those soft hands of yours set about undressing him, audibly groaning as your finger tips lightly slide down his chest, “Tell me how much you want me, no tell me how much you need me”. You lock eyes with him once more as soon as you undo his belt buckle, “I…I need you so much Katsuki…”. You hear the clink of the metal hit the floor along with his pants, making you swallow thickly as you struggle to maintain eye contact, “Oh c’mon angel, you can do better than that…wanna hear you confess how Fuckin’ devoted you are to me, how you can’t live without me anymore…”. You feel him take hold of your hand, guiding it bellow your mouth, “Spit” he orders. You do before he finally moves your hand to come rest where he wants it the most “Come on baby, not gonna make me wait all night are you?”.

Of course not, you can multi task.

So you slowly set about stroking up and down his shaft, pace increasing with each shameless declaration; “I cant do anything without you…I’m lost without you…I’d do anything to make you happy…Everything to keep you with me, I couldn’t go on if I ever lost you…You proved to me time and time again that you’re the only one that’s truly there for me…No one could ever mean as much to me as you do Katsuki”. “My Katsuki” You place a kiss on the head of his cock after saying his name the second time, the breathy whisper of his name has him gasping, a raspy whine following after “Ohhh fuck…fuck, y/n!”.

Seeing him so needy does things to you, if your panties weren’t soaked before their absolutely soaked by the time you excitedly wrap your lips around his leaking head. The shamelessly loud vocalizing of the pleasure your bringing him has you eagerly swallowing up the entirety of his length in one go. You moan as his cock presses against the back of your throat, you keep it there until your eyes are watering and lungs begin to burn. Pulling up and off of his cock leaves a string of spit connected between his tip and your plump bottom lip. The way you take notice of this fact with a wink and flashing a smile so seductively stunning it would put a porn star to shame, has him losing his fucking mind. Just as you were about to dive back down on his cock, one of his hands wrapped around your locks and gave a little tug, signaling you to stop.

As much as Katsuki would love to lay there and watch you slurp on his cock, he knows it would only take a few minutes and he’d be coating the back of your throat. He wasnt ready for this to end just yet, and he wants both of you to enjoy yourselves, not just him.

“On your back, now” he growls, smacking your ass as you hurry to comply. Big, rough hands slide down your stomach and grip at your hips, looking down at your panty clad pussy he lets out a low whistle, “Well would you look at this?”. He tugs the little piece of fabric upwards giving you a wedgie between your sticky, slick soaked pussy lips, “Only a real whore would get this soaked just from sucking some dick princess…Got something you wanna tell me?”.

“M’only a whore for you and your dick, no one but you Suki…Always you” you whimper, squirming at the discomfort.

He smiles, slipping your underwear off and tapping on your clit, “Want me to lick your pretty lil’ pussy princess?”. Your answer suprised him, “N-No…Not this time…I want…” your surge of confidence was fading fast, realizing this has you chewing your bottom lip to stall for a minute.

“Then tell me what you want pretty, I won’t know unless you say it”

“I..I want…want you to make love to me”

Just full of surprises tonight aren’t you?

You stare at the wall as a moment of silence stretches into a couple of minutes. How humiliating, why’d you have to say that cringey bullshit?! Now the mood was completely ruined, seeing the shadows cast by flickering candle lights has your eyes burning with unshed tears. This all seemed so stupid now when you really think about it…He wasn’t impressed or flattered.

Maybe if I just quit while I’m ahead-

“O-Okay…uh I can do that, yeah…totally capable of doing that for you-I mean to you, goddammit!” You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, but turning over and seeing the tips of his ears turning red proceeded to further demonstrate it.

“You don’t have to be smooth about it, it’s not even anything different than what we normally do it’s just-“

“I need to relay the strong emotions that having sex with you makes me feel and in turn make you feel special…along with building up the passion and pleasure that lead to climax” he recited, earning a wide eyed open mouthed stare from you. “What?! I’m not a complete idiot about this kind of shit, it’s just that…you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted to try it out on, got a problem with that?”.

Your eyes soften as you bring your hand back up to lightly touch his chest again; “How could I have a problem with that? When I’m the luckiest girl in the world, clearly in bed with the most gorgeous, soon to be #1 hero, looking down at me in a way reminiscent to a feral wolf staring down at the dumb bunny he’s about to…DEVOUR”.

To avoid embarrassing himself any further; Katsuki decides to capture your lips and engage you in an almost violent kiss. Growls and whimpers echo around the candle lit room, both of you catching hold of the other’s bottom lip between grinding teeth.

Feeling the blunt head of his cock poking at your entrance has you trying to be a brat and crawl away further up the bed. He’s not having it, you are getting this dick, and when you do it’s taken like the champ you are. Something feels different about tonight, and as soon as he sinks his painfully hard dick into your sopping, squeezing, heat, his whole body shuddered. Which just sends a vibration from your cunt to the tips of your toes, making you keen as you wrap your legs around his waist. “Your sucking me in princess fuck! Need this cock that bad hah?” pressing your foreheads together, Katsuki takes a second to collect himself before opening his eyes and being greeted with your beautiful eyes mirroring the same intensity he knows you’ve seen so many times within his own.

“I need it! Need you to fill me up like only you can Katsuki, Want you to love me so good tonight that I can’t even remember my own name tomorrow morning…pleaseeee I just want you”

“Fuckin tell me more beautiful, tell me how in love with me you are while I rearrange your guts, that’s what you want right?”

You shook your head yes, mewling his name and scratching his back as he set about fucking into you. He’d have you sing his praises some more later, you’d already pumped up his ego to dangerous porportions. Now was as good a time as any to tease you some;

“You think you’re real slick don’t you?”

You look up at him in confusion, wincing as he presses the head of his cock to your cervix, holding it there while he continues; “You really thought I wouldn’t figure it out…”.

You still don’t understand what he’s talking about, you weren’t hiding anything? Right?

“-Thinking you were gonna trap me? Well jokes on you princess cause that’s what I wanted all along” he sounded so smug, and from what you were unsure because you were panicking about being caught in a lie.

“Trapped?” You squeaked nervously.

“Yep you are beautiful, you could have just told me you wanted me to breed your sweet little princess cunt, I would have been more than happy to fuck a baby into ya…Kinda early but oh well” Katsuki looks so proud of himself for “Exposing your freaky self” but he was way off the mark. Rather than ruining the mood by calling him stupid, you just smile and took it in stride. Gently rocking your hips with his, perfectly in sync, reaching out to cup his cheek you put on your performance;”You caught me! I thought I’d hidden it so well…Nothing gets passed you though does it? My Suki, too smart for your own good”. “Mhmm so don’t ever try to lie to me because I’ll catch you every single time” he says this while looking so deliciously devious it has you moan with excitement, “Especially not to protect someone else…if I ever find out someone hurt you and you neglected to tell me about it….Only I’m allowed to see how pretty you look when you cry…You’ll have to watch me beat them to a pulp and then It’ll be you getting punished..Don’t try me beautiful…understand?”.

“I…I understand” you nervously bite your lip, in this head space something so terrifyingly threatening only translates into endearing and passionate. Surely these feelings weren’t side effects from the pill you’d taken earlier? You couldn’t deny that your partner knew his way around your body at an expert level, but still…This was the greatest sex you two have ever had. Everything was just so much more vibrant, so intense. Your hips chased after his with every push and pull movement, keeping his length captured by the squeezing of your velvety walls.

“Let’s do something different” Katsuki moves towards the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the floor, with you quickly straddling his lap and waste no time in sliding back down on his cock.

Now he’s able to thrust up into you, while you sink down on him, meeting perfectly in the middle every time.

“Better?” He asks, laughing at your frantic nods. You rest your arms on his broad shoulders, tangling your fingers in his spiky tresses and forcing his mouth against your’s. He can’t help but smack and squeeze at your ass while you bounce on his dick, tangling your tongue with his as you whimper into his mouth. When he finally allows you to pull away and breathe, one of his hands yanks on the end of your hair pulling your head back and giving him better access to suck and bite down your neck “Who’s pussy is this, hah princess?” His gruff voice reaches your ears, but it doesn’t translate over inside your brain, you only succeed in making those equally adorable, as they are sinful, sounds that drive the hot headed blonde WILD, “I asked you a Fuckin’ question!”.

The cry you let out as a hot hand comes in contact with your ass cheek, goes directly to his cock. His new grip on you ceases your bouncing, and now you whine while helplessly wiggling your hips. “Who’s fucking pussy is it?”, Each of his words is followed up with a cervix bruising thrust upwards into you.

“Katsuki’s!” You sob, wrapping your arms around his head as he buries his face in your chest, sucking a few nice purple bruises into the skin of each breast, “All of me belongs to Katsuki!”.

“Good girl”, finally satisfied he released his hold on you so you could happily resume your bouncing as he lays back and lets you go to work. Occasionally giving you a lazy thrust of hips, but mainly enjoying the view of you becoming more and more fucked out.

“W-Who does Katsuki belong too?”

You say it so quietly that he’s not quite sure he heard you correctly, until you stop moving. Your eyes are shining with tears as you stare down at him expectantly, “What did you say baby?”.

“Who does Katsuki belong to?!” You repeat louder, bottom lip trembling as your cunt continues to suck and squeeze around his cock “Tell me!”.

“Sh-Shit! You keep clenching me like that-”, your desperate whine drowns out the rest of his words “Who is it?”.

“Fuck, Y/N! Katsuki belongs to Y/N!” He groans so loud and shamelessly, it’s music to your ears. Katsuki on the other hand was red in the face, why the hell did he just sound so pathetic? Of course he’s in love with you, but how could you reduce him to that? You don’t seem to have noticed the chink in his armor, you were still happily grinding down on him with your eyes closed and smiling so adorably it makes his chest hurt. You make him feel things he’s never felt; It’s like your entire being makes his brain go haywire, and that brings about feelings of fear, which translates to weakness…and anger.

The sudden feeling of a hand around your throat was nothing short of surprising. So when your back hit the mattress and the grip tightened, cutting off your intake of air, you were nothing short of terrified.

“How do you it do? Hah, princess?”

Katsuki asks, in a voice so low and dangerous “C’mon don’t look at me like that, pretty…”. The confusion and fear you felt was reflected in your tearful gaze as your face burned from the lack of oxygen.

You had one job and you’d fucked it up: How? You’d colossally fucked up and had no idea how.

The squeeze ceased, but the large, warm hand lay settled over your throat, calloused fingers lazily stroke over your flesh. All Katsuki can do is just marvel at how you still can look so beautiful while sobbing and gasping beneath him.

“I-I’m so-sorry, I ma-aade y-you angry, I won’t do it ag-again”

You couldn’t not do it again, this is a character flaw within himself, not you.

“You didn’t do anything wrong…You’re just…sometimes I get overwhelmed by how beautiful you are, and how much I love you…I don’t know how to deal with it, so I lash out at you and it’s fucking wrong…I ruined everything…like I always fucking do…Im sorry Princess,I-” a pretty finger pressed to his lips silenced him.

“I’m here to share your burdens and help relieve your stress, because that’s what people that love each other do, you’re working so hard, it’s weighing on you and sometimes accidents happen, that’s all…” you smiled up at him after saying this, and it was obvious you believed what you were saying…..You were absolutely incredible, perfect!

Maybe in this instance, weakness was okay? If the weakness was his love for you anyway….”You can’t ever leave me Y/n, I’ll never let you go”.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere, with anyone else anyway, silly”

Good, because you would never get the opportunity to go anywhere with anyone else.

“Katsuki…are we umm…are we not going to finish?”

Yeah, he’s never letting you go.

Ever.

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 39, NSFW Nessian)

Notes: Well, over a year you've had to wait for these two to seal the deal... BUT NO LONGER. And because I'm thankful to you all for sticking with this story, I've granted you with over 16k of sinful naughtiness. I think it's safe to say this is NSFW but you guys have read my smut before, you know the drill.

Embers & Light has always very much been the alternative story to Habits, but I couldn’t help but write in some crossover moments here to highlight the differences in events--timeline is a fascinating thing! Lemme know if you spot the moments :)

Please let me know what you think :) Comment and kudos will make my day!

I won't be able to write much of August (wedding & mini-moon) but I'll be doing my best to get you guys something as soon as possible. Hopefully by the end of the month, anyways <3

Oh! And I got a bookstagram. Find me at bookships.and.fandoms (and bear with me, I cba to take pretty pics atm)

Chapter 39 Cassian POV

Cassian stared at the doorway and the staircase beyond it, his gaze fixed and unwavering. Nesta had slipped out of the living room to follow Feyre up the stairs over ten minutes ago and he was already consumed with the biting sort of worry that gnawed at your insides.

He wasn’t concerned about what Nesta might be discussing with Feyre—that was her business—but because he couldn’t help but fret when it came to Nesta’s wellbeing.

It was a myriad of concerns that trampled through his mind like a herd of cattle. Had she slept enough? Had she recovered from being caught in the crowds the day before? Was her conversation with Feyre going to have her take three steps back rather than one forward? Cassian had spied the book of fairytales she’d slipped into her bag. Had guessed what she’d intended to do with it.

And then there was the fact that Nesta had left the bed before he’d woken again. Cassian couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she’d not been there when he’d opened his eyes, especially after the night before.

But that was how it was with he and Nesta. When the sun dipped below the horizon, Cassian often felt as if they were on the right path; as if once the world shut its eyes, the pressure was off and their play could continue. But as soon as light bled back into the sky, things weren’t the same. They weren’t cold… but Cassian felt suspended in a limbo of flirtatious banter and respectful distance. Which was hard, when all Cassian wanted to do was be as close to her as possible: to hold her hand and wind a hand through her hair. To kiss her brow and mouth and sink his teeth into her neck—

Cassian’s jaw tightened. He wanted to do wicked things. He wanted to make her moan and shatter. Wanted to know how she felt wrapped around him. Wanted to see if she’d gasp awake as he pushed inside of her.

Their trip home was going to be a turning point. Or at the very least it would be a milestone—a hammered notch as they progressed towards something. Yet, Cassian wasn’t naive: he wasn’t expecting Nesta to fall into his arms and never leave. But he hoped that it might make Nesta see their connection—not the tie between them, but the chemistry that Cassian knew would forever exist even if the mating bond was severed.

From the very first moment his gaze had settled on the haughty, vicious sister Cassian had known. Had nearly been brought to his knees—the heart-stopping moment so powerful, it suspended time as he felt something turn inside of him, as if something that had lain dormant had finally snapped open an eye.

And because of that Cassian would willingly allow Nesta to forge the reigns when it came to whatever it was between them. He could go slow. He would take the chance that Nesta might grow to accept him, even as he was seized by the terror that she might grow bored and draw a line under things before he had the chance to prove that he was worthy.

Cassian took a deep, steadying breath that made his ribcage heave. Thought of the lullaby that sat in his room at the House. Used that to ground himself and banish the painful thoughts.

Nesta had cared enough to gift him a piece of his past that nobody else had ever gone to the effort to find for him. And that was… everything. It was everything to him.

“I can hear the worry grinding gears in your brain.”

Rhys was standing where Mor had been a few moments earlier, his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his eyebrows raised. Cassian hadn’t noticed Mor slip away. Couldn’t even recall what she'd been saying to him. Had he ignored her? He didn’t know. Didn’t really care. They all knew he was head over heels when it came to Nesta anyway.

Cassian blinked. It took him a moment to process Rhys’s words, but his body finally caught up. An instinctive grin tugged at the corners of his mouth and he commanded his eyes to sparkle, even though it was all fake. “I was under the impression you didn’t think I had one.”

Rhys didn’t chuckle or retort with something dry. Sometimes his brother allowed him to indulge in his self-deprecating behaviour, but it didn’t seem like today was one of those days. Instead, he cut to the chase. “They’re fine.”

Cassian bristled. Didn’t bother to pretend his mind wasn't solely on what was happening upstairs. “Feyre’s speaking with you now?”

Nesta would hate that. Would know if her sister was communicating to her mate whilst they were talking.

His brother’s laugh was as smooth as velvet. “No, she locked me out. It’s a habit she’s started recently and it’s usually coupled with the mental finger.”

This time, Cassian’s smile was genuine, as was the chuckle that chased it. “Feisty.”

“You have no idea,” Rhys responded with a wink.

Mor, who had breezed back to Cassian’s side with a new cup of coffee, rolled her eyes. “We do actually, you two are like rabbits.”

“We’re mated,” Rhys replied with a wave of his hand. “It’s to be expected.”

Mor lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Cauldron, I need to bed someone rather than hearing about my cousin’s exploits with my best friend.”

“Head to Rita’s and find yourself a pretty fae,” Cassian drawled, tugging Mor into a one armed hug.

“Mmm,” Mor hummed, but she chewed on her lip again. Glanced nervously at Azriel, who was in deep conversation with Elain. His shadows were tucked in neatly to his frame rather than trailing, ever-moving and loose around his body, but Cassian knew he could hear them.

Cassian dropped a friendly kiss to Mor’s head before he let her go. Tussled her hair, grinning mischievously when she squawked in disapproval.

As if sensing that his cousin wanted a change of subject, Rhys looked square at Cassian. “Azriel will come over later to update you on the latest movements.”

Cassian sobered as if someone had poured icy water down his back. “Not later,” Cassian corrected firmly.

Tomorrow. No the day after that. Cassian couldn’t guarantee that he’d be able to stop once he’d had his first proper taste of Nesta.

But of course they couldn’t do that—wouldn’t. The situation in Illyria was too dire for them to be so selfish as to lock themselves away for days.

It didn’t mean Cassian didn’t want to, though.

“You’ve got plans?” Rhys asked lightly and Mor froze.

You’ve got no idea, Cassian thought. But then realised his brother knew. Of course he did. Surely everyone in this room knew how desperate he was to get back to Illyria. To have Nesta in his bed again, writhing and moaning, their bodies slick with sweat as they moved in unison.

Clenching his jaw, Cassian grounded that desire between his teeth, until it was nothing but broken, delicious shards that scraped down his throat. His blood coiled. “Yes. Maybe.”

If she doesn’t change her mind.

“It has to be tomorrow, Cass.”

Biting back a sigh, Cassian nodded. “I know. Come at noon. I suppose I’ll be camped out in Illyria for the foreseeable future.” He cast a stern look at Mor. “Send me letters.”

“You have a housemate,” Rhys reminded him. “You’re not going to be entirely alone.”

Mor grinned slyly. “A very beautiful housemate.”

Cassian was more than aware of that.

He grunted and unable to stop himself, he voiced the fear that always niggled away at the back of his mind. “For now.”

But Rhys just loosed another manicured shrug, that was at odds with the ground-breaking revelation that followed it. “For a long while. Nesta has expressed her desire to remain in Illyria long-term despite the discontent. Assuming you don’t mind sharing your bungalow.”

It felt as if an iron band of hope was clamped around Cassian’s chest. He stared at his brother. Tried not to blink. Crossed his arms firmly over his chest, protecting his heart. “And you know this how?”

“Nesta spoke with me. We have arrived at a truce, of sorts.”

That must have been what they’d spoken about yesterday on the balcony. He wanted to know more—everything—but Cassian would not press Rhys. If Nesta wanted to tell him, she would. He had to respect that.

So, he bit back his curiosity and grumbled, “About time.”

Rhys clapped his hand on Cassian’s back, but there was something wary in his expression, as if there was something he wanted to say but wouldn’t. Finally, he said, “Patience is a virtue, brother.”

“I’m not the patient sort.”

“You are when it counts,” Rhys countered, and Cassian didn’t say anything because they both knew what he was referring to. Rhys had been the first to know. Had witnessed Cassian in a tangled web of despair and longing and unwanted visions. His brother had immediately put two and two together. Because he’d been there, too. Knew what it was to want someone you thought you couldn’t have. To hope that someone might finally grow to see you in colour rather than in black and white.

Cassian cast another look towards the empty doorway and the quiet hallway beyond it.

A shiver of anticipation ran through him. It was time for them to go home.

***

In the end, Cassian folded to his worry and had Elain fetch Nesta from upstairs. It was time to go, he’d insisted, even though there was no true reason as to why they needed to leave quite so quickly.

“No guesses required to identify why you want to head back to Illyria,” Mor muttered out the side of her mouth, as the creak of the stairs a few flights above heralded the sisters return. Cassian jabbed his elbow into his friend’s ribs and Mor yelped through her grin, even as she had to sidestep, the nudge throwing her off balance. “What? It’s all over your face. You think I can’t read you after five hundred years?”

“Don’t announce it to the room,” Cassian muttered darkly under his breath, “and you won’t find yourself torn to pieces.”

Mor briefly bumped against his arm, the jostle affectionate. Unfazed by his threat, she glanced sideways at him with rich chocolate eyes. “I won’t. We just want you to be happy, you know.”

Cassian’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “Now isn’t the time for a lecture about finding a more suitable mate.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, hadn’t meant to voice what he’d kept inside for so long.

Mor’s eyes widened, but she wound her arms around his waist. Cassian allowed her to tuck herself under his arm. His friend scented of citrus and cinnamon. When she craned her neck to look up at him, her expression was glowing with sincerity and Cassian realised that she hadn’t been insinuating that Nesta wasn’t right for him at all. “We’re all cheering you on from the sidelines, Cass, I promise.”

The muscle in Cassian’s jaw flexed. He looked away from her, towards the doorway again, unable to help himself. “Don’t say anything.”

She tightened her grip on his waist. “I won’t. I promise.”

“She doesn’t want it.”

Mor untangled herself from him. Shook her head in disagreement. “She does. She just isn’t ready to admit it yet.”

They both fell quiet as Nesta walked through the door with Elain and Feyre. The first thing Cassian noticed was that she scented of water and salt—tears.

Heart pattering with concern, Cassian quickly scanned Nesta’s expression and body language, searching for clues. But Nesta remained close to her sisters rather than apart, her fingers snagged in Feyre’s, her expression not in tatters but smooth and calm, like still waters.

“Ready to go?” Mor chirped from beside him. “I can winnow you back when Sala arrives.”

Nesta’s grey-blue eyes slid to Mor. “I called her on my way down.”

“Then you have time to see the snowdrops you gave me before you leave,” Elain responded eagerly, tugging at Nesta’s arm. “The cuttings took well to the soil. I planted them beneath the shade of the birch trees near the river.”

Cassian watched Nesta disappear into the garden. Surveyed the way a strand of golden brown hair that had escaped her loose braid floated on the breeze, as if it was part of the element rather than separate, as Elain bent to show her the snowdrops.

Yet despite the clear ease to Nesta’s movements, Cassian couldn’t help but ask Feyre whether everything was okay when she came over to hug him goodbye.

“We’re fine,” Feyre assured him, as together they watched Mor tentatively sit beside Azriel on the couch. For once the Shadowsinger’s shadows didn’t lighten, but Azriel still turned to her, drawn by some magnetism as she began to speak with him.

Slim fingers closed around his. Squeezed. “Thank you for fetching the book of fairytales for Nesta.”

The strand of ebony hair that had wrangled free of Cassian’s hair tie tickled the side of his forehead as he inclined his head. That had been a long time ago, when Nesta was a viper that he dared to poke with a stick, just so he could get a reaction. “Of course.”

“You travelled all that way on barely healed wings just to fetch a book.”

It wasn’t just a book, but Cassian knew Feyre understood that, so he only grunted, “Az took me most of the way. He waited to winnow me back.”

But Feyre’s eyes were burnished, as she asked, “Is there anything you won’t do for my sister?”

“It depends,” Cassian replied honestly. Because although he’d rather die than see Nesta hurt, Cassian wouldn’t hesitate to stand up to her when her fire was ill-wrought. And that’s what he liked about the both of them: if he was an ass Nesta told him straight, and he did the same for her. A grin slashed across his face. “Your sister has claws and teeth when she’s angry.”

It wasn’t long before Sala landed on her four large paws in the garden, prompting goodbyes. Mor winnowed Nesta and Sala, whilst Az’s scarred hand closed around Cassian’s arm.

Together, Cassian and his brother passed through realms of shadows and light and raging wings. Then Illyria was taking shape before Cassian bit by bit: there was the sting of winter on his cheeks, the crunch of snow beneath his feet, the scent of pine and untamed air. It felt like that wonderful first heave of your lungs after being starved from air. It alerted Cassian senses—woke him up.

Not bothering to say goodbye for the second time, Azriel bled straight back into shadow, but Mor raised a hand in a parting wave from where she stood beside Nesta and Sala. Her long golden hair caught on the breeze. It tussled behind her like its own puff of wind, before she vanished into nothing.

When Cassian’s eyes snapped to Nesta, he found her standing with her eyes closed, breathing in the wilderness of their surroundings. After a few beats, Sala jumped onto her hind legs, climbing up Nesta’s body with her snow-crusted paws to knock her head impatiently against Nesta’s.

A breath of laughter clouded in front of her as Nesta ruffled Sala’s ears. She murmured something Cassian couldn't identify in the manticore’s ear, before Sala dropped onto all fours and padded through the snow in the direction of the main camp.

Cassian watched the manticore go. He suspected Sala was going to seek out the widows camp and check everything was in order. It was the kind of thing Nesta would fret about—that whilst she was warm and fed, others might not be extended the same courtesy.

Or, the dark part of his mind whispered, she wants Sala out of the house.

You can fuck me wherever you like in the bungalow, Cassian.

The many needles of thrill pierced through him just as Nesta met his stare from across the snow. Suddenly, Cassian didn’t know what to say. His tongue felt swollen and thick in his mouth, words suddenly as viscous as tar. The atmosphere had altered—the aura surrounding them despite the distance suddenly heavy with promise: a change that pointed to something new.

The siphons on the back of Cassian’s hands glowed in anticipation. Nesta merely raised an eyebrow at him. Turned. Walked towards the house just as he caught the thick scent of jasmine and vanilla on the wind.

Cassian’s nostrils flared as it wound around him; invisible ropes of arousal. And then he was moving, following Nesta’s footprints.

His friends had winnowed them to the back of the house, halfway between the small stone outhouse and the backdoor. They weren’t far from the bungalow, but it felt like miles as Cassian stomped noisily after Nesta, his boots compacting the snow as if they were grinding shards of glass into powder.

When Cassian drew up behind Nesta, she already had a hand half-raised towards the door. Even though he wasn’t touching her, she was a whirlpool of warmth. It sucked him in, begging him to line his torso against her back, so when she cursed, realising she hadn’t taken her gloves off, Cassian didn’t hesitate to reach over her shoulder and rest his palm against the wood, encasing her.

The touch of his bare skin—or Nesta’s—was the key to the magical lock. A thunk sounded as the bolt released but Cassian didn’t push open the door—was too preoccupied with the female before him—who had twisted to stare up at him.

As soon as their gazes snagged, history began to knit together in a rush of thread, until it was a tangible, living thing. Because this moment had been written in the stars as soon as Cassian had seen Nesta in her amethyst dress in the human realm; her hair wielded into a mighty crown, her expression haughty and defiant, yet burning with the potential of a life not yet lived. They’d denied that history, even as it waited patiently in the wings. It had watched as they danced around each other, fumbling and snarling their way to this very moment—

They moved in unison. Cassian’s head bowing just as Nesta reached upwards; her body bowing to his, her palms sliding across his jaw until they were around his neck. Their lips met with a force that rattled Cassian’s bones. This wasn't a brush of a kiss. This was immediate and awakening: Nesta tasted like life and breath, like destiny. And yet again, Cassian knew with startling clarity that they were meant for this, he and Nesta. They were meant for each other and nobody could tell him otherwise, including her.

A soft breath whooshed out of Nesta as her back hit the door, but then Cassian was pushing it open, guiding her inside in a whirlwind of noise and wreckage.

The scrape of wood on the flagstone tiles sounded as Nesta’s back knocked against the table before Cassian turned them, his wings grazing against cupboards and the cool walls. Items clattered and shattered, but Cassian used his wings to keep a check on his surroundings, the touch guiding him to the left-hand wall where he could press her against the wall and devour.

Because Cassian could not tear his mouth from Nesta’s. Couldn’t stop tasting her. Couldn’t stop craving the roll of her tongue and the sound of her guttural moans. It fuelled a fireball inside of him; it roared into life in the centre of his heart, before spreading throughout his limbs, rushing through his body until it settled deep in his groin, aching and burning—screaming for relief.

When they finally hit the wall, the thud of their bodies shook the cabinets and the porcelain within it. Without thinking, Cassian took the brunt of it, his hand flying to cup Nesta's lower back and head to purposefully shield her from the hurt.

Because he was coarse and rippling, galloping towards a primal sort of wilderness that Cassian wasn’t sure he could control.

If Nesta was ignorant to the fact or wholly aware Cassian didn’t know. All he knew was that her hands were scrabbling at his leather like dancing flames, tugging him closer.

When he pressed his body over hers, aligning every inch of her to every inch of him, she whined.

Cassian swallowed it. Slanted his mouth across hers. Tucked his wings in tight as every muscle in him tensed in anticipation.

Nesta tasted of chai and vanilla and embers with a destiny to roar.

Another strangled noise came from her throat as Cassian sank his hands deep into the hair at her scalp, coaxing strands free from her braid as his fingers threading through her hair, just as he had done the night prior when he’d coaxed her to sleep. But this wasn’t a soothing touch. This was a touch to startle every nerve ending to life.

Time began to bleed around them, but Cassian only registered the fluidity of the frantic dance they had not learnt. The way Nesta arched into him as his palm slid back to span her waist. The pant of her breath against his skin. His heaving chest. The way his wings began to spread again of their own volition, like a fan unfolding to reveal a secret pattern—as if they were controlled by nothing but the ache of his cock as it strained against the leather of his pants.

As if in acknowledgement that his body was no longer ruled by him, his hips slanted upwards of their own accord. It was a desperate bid to relieve the ache, and his throat vibrated with a thunderous growl as Nesta dug her nails deeper into the leather of his jacket, using it for leverage as she arched into him.

Something turned further inside of Cassian, like a lock beginning to grind as a key turned. And then it felt as if he were plunging beneath water; ducking into the depths and travelling beneath an invisible barrier before emerging on the other side buoyant and surging with power.

Ruby crashed through his veins, like the walls of a dam broken free and… singing light. Magic roared so loudly in Cassian’s ears that he no longer heard the galloping beat of his heart or the sawing of their breath.

Reeling, he tore his mouth from Nesta’s. Her eyes were just as wide, puddles of startled moonlight—endless mercury—and Cassian didn’t need to look down to know that her hands were wreathed in silver.

For a moment they stared at one another. Time slowed until it was sluggish around them and then the feeling receded, as if Cassian was being carried by a wave as it was dragged unwillingly from the shore on thundering feet.

Sound bled back into Cassian’s ears, like raindrops slowly blotting paper. A moan whispered on a wind carried through him, the words fleeting—her name three times, like always—before they dispersed into nothing and ragged breathing filled the hole.

Fuck, they needed to be careful. He needed to be careful if just kissing her led to some transcendental experience. Cassian knew Nesta became open during sex—had seen tumbled images of tangled limbs and heard her moans—and he couldn’t afford to lose her when she had finally let him in. Couldn’t let her down, even though he wanted nothing more than to finally be found worthy by someone.

That twisted rope between them couldn’t widen and strengthen. Couldn’t finally open and click into place with a consensual snap.

Because Cassian had heard stories of mates who had gone to bed. Who had fleetingly accepted what they wanted in their hearts but not in their minds. And after they had both finished and life had been breathed into that bond, only death could sever their Cauldron-blessed connection.

Cassian would not have a mate with regrets, but he didn’t have the will-power to deny himself of her any longer. Not when he could scent how much Nests wanted him. When he could feel it like an unquenchable ache in his bones—an ache which made him tremble and shake. His rocky warrior exterior ground to nothing but sand.

As if Nesta could read his thoughts she tipped her head back, baring the column of her neck.

A resounding guttural sound dragged from his throat. The noise was animalistic and unchained. A booming crack ricocheted around the walls, the muscles in Cassian’s back burning as his wings snapped outward.

Something toppled from somewhere and crashed to the floor, but Cassian didn’t bother to raise his head to look at what it was.

And then time seemed to both slow and drive into a frenzy. Cassian launched at Nesta’s neck at the same time he tugged at her hair, urging her head to fall back even farther.

His lips were against the column of her throat in the blink of an eye; his teeth scraping, his mouth sucking until her blood pounded in his ears. Nesta’s knees buckled but Cassian quickly pinned her body to the wall, holding her up, his knee sliding firmly between her legs…

And… nothing. There was no panic or sensation of being trapped—no sudden fire launching him back thirty feet—but Cassian still tore his mouth from Nesta’s neck. Had to know she wasn’t panicking. “Ok?” he rasped.

A frown burrowed Nesta’s brows. Her swollen lips parted in confusion. Somehow it made her look more beautiful.

Cassian raised a shaking hand to trace it away. “Nesta. Are you ok?”

Understanding dawned like millions of unfurling petals.

When Nesta spoke she was short of breath, the words an exhale. “Don’t hold back.”

Cassian practically arched into her at the words but he made himself remain still, even as his body vibrated with tension. His bones creaked but he held fast.

That stubborn, beautiful chin lifted and Nesta’s eyes glinted wicked yet pure. Always an oxymoron, his Nesta.

“Don’t hold back,” she repeated, her voice stronger this time. She pushed her hips against his thigh and the friction had her lips parting, a shaky breath tumbling from her lungs. “I can take it.”

The words were like slashing knives of pleasure, severing the leash on any control Cassian thought he had.

The subsequent rush of air Cassian loosed was akin to a snorting horse.

Then he was moving and their mouths were fused together again, their tongues a delicious push and pull of control and pleasure before he yanked away.

“Thank fuck,” he gasped. His hands flew to her hips, guiding her to ride his thigh. “Thank fuck, Nesta.”

The friction had Nesta moaning, her fingernails digging so hard into the leather of his jacket Cassian was sure she had dented the material. But he didn’t care. Didn’t care about anything but the living fervour that clawed at them.

His hands were everywhere at once. Tangled in her hair. Sliding over her cheek. Cupping her ass. Attacking the buttons at the back of her dress, until they popped and scattered. Until he could pull the material down her arms, exposing tantalising creamy skin.

At the first sight of her breasts, Cassian growled. He bowed his head to capture a nipple sharply between his teeth before he laved over it with his tongue, smoothing over the wound. He relished the way Nesta cried out. Arched into him. She began to tear at his jacket. It snagged on his wings but Cassian shrugged it off until it hit the floor with a thud.

The first slide of Nesta’s palms beneath his tunic was like oil sizzling in a pan. Cassian hissed as the callouses of her palms scraped deliciously over his skin and scars and ink. Snarled as she made quick work of the stays and fastenings. Tried to focus on her other breast as she inched her hand beneath the tight leather fabric and eased him free.

Fingers wrapped sinfully around him, causing Cassian to snarl around a peaked nipple—to buck sharply—pressing them more firmly against the wall.

“Don’t bother,” Nesta moaned as Cassian wrenched desperately at the fabric of her dress, trying to coax it further down her body. She ground down onto his thigh as it to emphasise her point—her need—and the heat of her burned.

It was all Cassian needed to hear. He fumbled desperately with her skirts until a hand was under the material and sliding up her thigh. Until fabric ripped and her underwear fell away in what Cassian imagined to be a ripple of lace.

In one swift movement, Cassian lifted Nesta’s body upwards, until her legs were gripped tightly around his hips and her back was flush against the wall. Her hands flew to find purchase, grappling at the back of his neck, and when she was steady she raked her hand purposefully through the hair which had come loose from his tie. Tugged at the leather until his hair fell over his face. Whined. Tangled her fingers through the ebony strands as if they were her reigns.

Cassian splayed the hand that wasn’t supporting her body against the cold wall. Tried to catch his breath, but the position evened out the height between them. Just a slight movement would allow him to capture her lips with his, and Cassian couldn’t deny that demanding tug that drove him to devour. Nesta seemed to feel the same way. Moaned in relief as Cassian tasted her as if he couldn’t get enough, gave back as good as she got. Over and over they moved, until they were nothing but an undulating wave of tongue and teeth and groans. The pleasure was a surging, roiling entity. It was all consuming. It overtook Cassian’s body, demanding that his hand drag from her ass straight to her core.

When his fingers slid through wetness, Cassian’s groan sounded like thunderous defeat. He dropped his head to Nesta’s collarbone. Gently pressed his lips to her clavicle. To her shoulder. Tried to ground himself as he slid straight to the spot that made her keen—as pleasure ignited down the bond like a crashing wave. Brushed over it again and again and again. Relishing in the noises he coaxed from her. At the curling fists of desire that clenched agonisingly inside of him.

Cassian had to see Nesta fall. Had to look into her eyes as she broke.

But he wanted to be inside of her when it happened.

Cassian was reaching for his cock at the same time that Nesta let out a broken moan. “Do it,” she breathed. There was no bite of authority in her voice, as if all of the energy she had directed in the pursuit of pleasure had smoothed over the serrated edge of her personality he loved so much, leaving a softer version in its wake. “Please. Just—”

A satisfied snarl ripped from Cassian as he felt her want. And in that moment, Cassian knew there would be nothing gentle about how this was going to play out. It was going to be rough and frantic, riding a wave of pleasure that had been building for too long. Knew afterwards that they would sink to the cold floor in a mass of tangled limbs and mingled breath.

And Cassian wanted that. Had never wanted release so badly in his life.

Something clambered in the back of his mind. Something he needed to remember, but his limbs were moving of their own volition. He didn’t even bother to pump his cock or squeeze it to relieve the tension. Only cared about finally being inside of her.

The heat and slickness of her was sinful and divine when he lined himself up at her entrance. The hand he had braced against the wall came to span her cheek. It relied on Nesta clamping on tightly to his waist with her legs and the press of his torso against hers, but they managed it.

Shaking, Cassian raked back the hair that had fallen free from her braid back from Nesta’s face, just as she tugged him in for a bruising kiss.

There was a moment when everything paused and trembled. As Nesta pulled away and stared at him, her eyes swimming silver—glowing with it—her pupils obscured.

His magic surged at the sight of it. Crashed against his skin as if it was trying to escape. His siphons burned bloody.

“Cassian,” Nesta panted. Despite the keen desperation, there was cushion to his name. Gently, Nesta bowed her head until her forehead rested against his. The gesture was surprisingly tender. It tugged at his heartstrings, triggered his hips into movement as they finally pushed forward.

The tight heat that wrapped around him like velvet was so immediate that Cassian swore. Sweat trickled down his back and seeped into the tunic Nesta hadn’t gotten round to discarding. He trembled as Nesta’s breath stuttered and he felt the burning pain mixed with pleasure as he sunk in an inch. Felt the stretch of Nesta’s body as it strained to fit around him.

Claws dug into his back—Nesta’s nails—biting into his skin, until the metallic tang of blood infused the air.

Cassian’s body stilled before he even had a second to register that he needed to stop. That instinct buried deep to make sure she never hurt.

And then a knock rapped at the front door.

“No,” Nesta moaned. She shifted her hips and Cassian sank a little deeper. That pain flared again through the pleasure and Cassian grip on her turned vice like.

Sense stumbled into his desire addled brain, like a fawn on gangly legs.

But then it righted itself.

Another sharp rap at the door cleared his head completely.

He bowed to bury his face in the crook of her neck but Nesta whined. Tilted her hips again, urging him deeper. “Nesta, stop.”

“No.” Her whimper was doused in frustration, but all Cassian could feel was that sharp needle of pain.

He tried to pull back, but Nesta clamped down around him with that incredible strength of hers. The strength that only seemed to appear at times of desperation or anger.

Cassian’s jaw flexed, his features hardening. “I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not,” Nesta countered, defiance colouring her expression.

“I am,” Cassian retorted, not allowing for a passing beat of their hearts to pass before he replied. “I’m hurting you. Don’t pretend that I’m not.”

I can feel it, Cassian wanted to explain, but didn’t. Knew somehow that if he did they might not end up joining at all.

Desire fogged Nesta’s mind and it fuelled the punch to her next words. “I don’t care.”

Ire punched through Cassian’s desire enough for him to see red. “Well, I do,” he snapped.

Nesta’s nostrils flared at his tone and her eyes burned silver. Cassian wondered how everything had gone southward so quickly—they were on a sinking ship and he needed to patch it up. Knew she felt rejected. So, he kissed her and pushed back that unquenchable ache he felt for her. Knew it hit home because she gasped softly into his mouth, her surprise tart on his tongue.

He pulled out. As soon as his cock fell free that pain throbbed and ebbed. But Nesta moaned all the same.

Moaned again as he drew his head back to stare at her.

She surprised him when her eyes remained open rather than closed off. There was no hard shield. Nothing but want and a vulnerability that made his heart squeeze.

It gave him the courage to do the right thing.

He kissed her again. Trailed a thumb across her swollen lips, ignoring the desire that roared as Nesta sucked it into her mouth, her tongue darting across the top before the bit down lightly.

“This is how things are going to go,” Cassian murmured lowly, pulling his thumb out of her mouth and across her jawline, trailing the wetness all the way to the sensitive spot behind her ear. Nesta shuddered.

“I’m going to get the door and send whoever it is away,” Cassian continued. He paused to let the words sink in. Lowered his head to trace a path with his nose, up the slope of her shoulder, all the way up her neck until his lips were grazing the shell of her ear. “You will go to your bedroom. When they’re gone, I’ll find you.”

Another shiver coursed through Nesta’s body. Her fingers tightened around his neck.

When Nesta next spoke, Cassian knew he’d piqued her interest. “What then?” she demanded.

“Then I’m going to make you come until you see stars.”

Nesta’s entire body froze. For a long moment, she didn’t so much as breathe, but Cassian felt the throb of her blood and magic as it pounded against her skin.

Then, Nesta’s hands worked between them, until her small palms were splayed across his chest. She pushed firmly, indicating that she wanted to get her down. Her body slithered to the floor, her lean legs falling away from his body.

The sudden distance between them felt like miles.

Nesta lifted her chin. “Hurry or I’ll start without you.”

A breath heaved at Cassian’s lungs and he felt his pupils contract, pushing out his irises until they were swallowed by black. The image of Nesta sprawled on the bed wearing nothing but skin, her legs open, a hand moving between her legs had that coil within him tightening to the point of pain.

A growl spiked through the air as another knock sounded at the door.

Nesta must have known she’d wrangled back control, because she arched a cool eyebrow at him.  “I thought you were going to answer the door?”

A dark chuckle forced its way out of his chest, but it was mechanical rather than true. Because there was nothing funny about resisting Nesta right now and his body seemed to know that.

Cassian reached for her before he knew what was happening. Rested his forehead against hers. Breathed once. Twice. “I need to calm down,” he confessed.

Nesta snickered, but the sound fell flat as her breath hitched upwards at the end. It betrayed the effect he had on her, even as she said silkily, “Did the image of me pleasuring myself get you hard?”

“I was already hard,” he growled. He pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth. “As you well know.”

A hand reached between them. Stroked over him—the touch feather light but tantalising enough that Cassian bucked into her touch.

And then cunning words, “Maybe I’ll let you watch.”

A string of swear words left Cassian’s mouth. He yanked back from Nesta, as if someone had tugged firmly on a leash. Tugged up his pants and jerked ruthlessly at the ties until they fastened, trapping his cock back into the leather.

With a growl, Cassian waved a hand towards the living room—to Nesta’s room to the right of it. “Leave before I fuck you against the wall, Nesta,” he barked.

Nesta’s sly laugh skittered over his skin, and without pulling her dress back up to cover herself, Nesta sashayed through the nearest arch and disappeared.

*** It had been Mas and Roksana at the door, laden with bags full of groceries and supplies from the market. With full access to the house, there was no reason why they shouldn’t have just come right in. Which meant Mas had suspected somehow, enough so that she had left the bags on the front step and remained standing with Roksana a few feet back.

“I am sorry Sinta, but the meat might spoil,” the housekeeper had apologised as soon as he’d opened the door, his hair a tangled mess from where Nesta had yanked it free of its tie. He hadn’t had the sense to recover it from the floor, but he had righted his tunic and fastened his pants.

And thank the Cauldron for that, because Roksana peeked up at Cassian with wide eyes from her position of safety behind Mas’s legs. He didn’t know when Lorrian had brought the youngling back to the camp, but Cassian guessed it hadn’t been easy on the two of them to take a little girl out of the warmth and back into the snow.

Cassian tried to soften the eyes that he knew were a little wild. He raked his hands through his hair and sent them his most disarming smile, but there was fuck all he could do about his scent. So he thanked her, trying to keep his voice light and conversational. Ordered her to take the rest of the day off.

To the housekeeper’s credit, she did not linger. Had merely nodded and rushed Roksana back into the snow, towards the main vein of the camp.

Yet, whilst the housekeeper’s interruption had been unwanted, it did grant Cassian some breathing space as he rammed perishables into the cool box. Because even though Cassian would allow Nesta to decide how this all played out, he needed to lay down a rule of his own: he could give her the space to decide what she wanted—for him to prove that he could be what she needed—but there was one thing he could not suffer through.

And if they had stormed ahead in a hurricane of lust; with Nesta’s back against the wall as Cassian pounded into her… Well, it would be too late for Cassian to lay down his one condition once they were sweaty and sated. Nesta was more likely to get up and walk away. To not look back.

Cassian found Nesta sitting at the dresser in her room re-braiding back her hair.

Leaning against the doorjamb, Cassian opened his mouth to explain who had been at the door, but an iron band closed fast around his chest, robbing him of breath.

“What are you wearing?” The words came out of him eventually, entirely uneven to the point of being choked.

Because Nesta was wearing his shirt. It was the same steel blue shirt she’d worn that first day in Illyria. The shirt that was an identical match to her eyes, purchased before Cassian had realising what his subconscious had done. A shirt he’d had to hide away in the spare room because Cassian hadn’t been able to bare seeing it in his closet—of being reminded that his mate was a ghost who had banished him away.

Go home, Cassian.

Nesta met Cassian's eyes in the mirror. Announced with cool simplicity, “You ripped my dress.”

“And this is your way of torturing me?”

An indifferent shrug. “Why wear my own clothing when I know what fate it will suffer?”

Cassian knew his nostrils billowed, but he remained propped up against the doorframe. Pretended he was stuck to it like glue because his body was trembling for him to launch across the distance and claim her mouth. Her neck. Her.

The silence seemed to unnerve Nesta. Cassian knew that from months of living with her. From months of studying her slight tells when her masks slipped.

Right on cue, Nesta reset her posture—a gesture that most people read as defiant. But Cassian knew it was also a sign of nerves. She shrugged with feigned indifference, even as her throat tightened and that damned pulse fluttered temptingly against her throat. “You liked it the last time I wore it.”

Cassian huffed a breath. He had liked it the last time she wore it, even if she’d been so gaunt that he’d worried she might wither away. But the shirt… it had put images in his mind that Cassian had long tried to store away, imprisoned in rock and flame: her in his clothing, not fucking other males but him, her lithe legs wrapping around his waist as he sank deep—

Which brought Cassian neatly to the point he needed to discuss with her…

Nesta’s eyes tracked Cassian in the mirror as he peeled himself out of the doorway and came to stand behind her. When their eyes locked into place, it felt as if someone had punched him in the chest. There was something deep in Nesta’s gaze that made it feel as if he was tumbling down a rabbit hole, that magnetism between them drawing him in like gravity.

When Cassian’s fingers brushed Nesta’s neck—ran down the braid she had draped over her shoulder—Nesta shivered. “You had your hair down then,” he rasped. Didn’t wait for her to protest, as he slowly coaxed the tie free from the end of her hair.

Nesta turned preternaturally still, watched him gently part her hair in the mirror until it fell free from her plait, his calloused fingers brushing over her skin as he coaxed her hair to fall down her back.

The pulse hammering at her throat and the warmth radiating from her skin were the only indications that Nesta was alive rather than stone.

Only when Cassian had finished and lifted his hands from her neck, did Nesta come back to life.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. But she cocked her head slightly to dissect him. “It’s a nuisance like this. It gets in the way.”

“It’s beautiful,” Cassian corrected, his voice rasping, like sand scraping against skin. He ran a hand through her hair as if to emphasise his point, his fingers running down, down, down until her waist.

When Nesta stood and turned into the warmth of him, Cassian scented what she wanted. But there was something else simmering in her expression—surprise. As if she’d caught the truth in his words and hadn’t expected someone to truly think her beautiful.

She stepped closer, until the lines of her torso ghosted his. Until Cassian’s heart pounded so hard he could hear the frantic tempo of it in his ears. Nesta tilted her head back so she could stare up at him and Cassian’s hand weaved through the mane of her hair before he could stop himself.

He was desperate to touch her again. Desperate.

But Cassian waited. Waited for Nesta to reach up on tiptoes and press her mouth to his.

The kiss was not like their bruised, desperate kisses from earlier. It was coaxing and unsure; the tentative beginning of something that was not merely fuelled by ardour. But it soon blossomed into something more, like a snowball rolling down a mountain blanketed white, gaining speed as it grew and grew—

Dragging his mouth away from hers, Cassian fought for breath. Battled to remember what he needed to do and say. But then Nesta was tugging his head back down again, her fingers tangled in his hair, the gesture indicative of an insistent need that Cassian knew would not go away.

As always, Nesta tasted divine. Addictive. He could taste the curl of her power on his tongue—silver and white, life and death—and he wondered if she could taste his. Knew his siphons were glowing scarlet—

“Nesta,” he murmured hoarsely, her name a caress against her lips. He couldn’t invoke a distance between them, couldn’t stop touching her. His nose brushed hers as her drew back an infinitesimal amount. Closed his eyes. Inhaled deeply, summoning courage. “You can dictate how this goes between us. But if we do this, I can’t—there’s no-one else. Just you and me.”

The subsequent pause was one of the worst of Cassian’s life. It was barely a breath. The blink of an eye. But it felt as if it was malleable and elastic, drawn out by the hands of fate as everything suspended in time.

He didn’t want to open his eyes, but in the end he managed it. Caught Nesta’s eyelashes flutter downwards, casting shadows on her skin. Her fists tightened in the fabric of his tunic, anchoring him to the moment.

She swallowed. Shook her head. Agreed with a conviction he had not been expecting, “No-one else.”

The relief that swooped through Cassian was so fierce it was painful. But he still didn’t dare to believe it.

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger so Nesta could not look away. So he could look into the deep waters of her irises and know she was telling him the truth.

But her gaze was steady and unwavering, as he demanded, “Say it again.”

His voice cracked but Nesta didn’t appear to notice. Her grip on him tightened. “No-one else,” she repeated on an outward breath.

A low, ravaged moan sounded from Cassian’s throat. “Diyosa,” he murmured, slipping into Illyrian. Goddess.

“Bruha,” Nesta corrected. She fumbled over the pronunciation but Cassian felt as if he had been an ember that had burst into flame. Witch.

He let out a rough bark of laughter. Then he swore in a long, drawn out moan. “No Illyrian,” he ordered roughly. Pressed his mouth firmly against hers, the kiss searing. “Otherwise this will be over far too quickly.” Another kiss. “And I want to take my time.”

The smile Nesta painted against Cassian’s lips was feline. “You’ve made a lot of promises, General. I hope you don’t disappoint.”

Cassian snarled. Spun her body until her back was cradled against his chest. “I have, haven’t I?” he mused lightly, even though the hammering of his heart must have beat a betraying rhythm against her shoulder blade.

In the mirror, Nesta’s expression grew less poised and controlled. Delight mixed with anticipation clung to her features at this game they played; this tussle for control. She did not try to wrangle free from his hold or shift uncomfortably in his arms at having her back enclosed against his.

It thrilled him—that trust. Enough so that when he met her eyes in the mirror, Cassian found that his irises had been swallowed by his pupils until they were only a ring of chocolate gold.

Slowly, Cassian brushed Nesta’s hair over to one shoulder with his left hand. Traced his fingers down the arc of her neck to her collarbone. Continued a path down the centre of her chest, to the pyrite which glittered between her breasts.

When his fingers met the first button of his shirt, Cassian toyed with it. Purposefully grazed his nose against the shell of her ear. “Shall I start here?” he murmured. “Undress you in front of the mirror whilst you watch?”

Nesta suppressed a shudder, but Cassian caught it. Could swear he felt her blood boiling beneath her skin as he slipped the button free of its hole. Then another. And another. Until there were no more buttons and the material hung free.

Leaning back into his body, Nesta rested her head against his chest. Curved her back slightly so her chest thrust upwards, silently instructing him where she wanted his hands.

And Cassian couldn’t deny her. He turned his palm so it was face up and curled into a loose fist. Brushed his knuckles down her sternum all the way to her bared naval, before bringing it back up. His fingers ran up the side of the material free of buttons, until he was at her collarbone—her shoulder—leaving a litter of goosebumps in his wake.

This time, Cassian snickered when she shivered. Dropped a slow and deliberate kiss to her bare shoulder as he slowly, slowly inched the material down, down, down over her arm. Repeated the motion on the other, until the shirt pooled onto the floor, exposing her bare body to the mirror: endless creamy skin, divine curves, the luscious full weight of her bare breasts, and… lower.

Nesta’s eyes, which had been tracking the fabric as it fell away, snapped to his as a feral growl ripped from him. And she moaned at the expression on his face. Grabbed at his hands, pulling them to her body.

“Touch me,” Nesta hissed, but it came out strangled. Almost pleading. Another crack in her armour as it broke and fell away.

The sight was enough to threaten Cassian to his knees. He guided her body backwards, his hands splaying firmly across her stomach despite her whine, until his legs hit the edge of the mattress

Neither of them broke eye contact in the mirror. Not when Cassian coaxed Nesta down to sit on the bed with him. Not when he pulled her between his legs, her back firmly against his chest. Not when he bowed his head to kiss the slope between her neck and shoulder.

When Cassian finally brushed a thumb over her nipple, Nesta back bowed so fiercely Cassian was thankful he had an arm strapped across her stomach.

The small noise she loosed fuelled his fire and Cassian held on to her. Stroked over that peaked nipple again as Nesta careened into his touch. Followed it with a firmer roll with his thumb and forefinger. Used the fingertips of his other hand to draw slow, tantalising circles across the silken skin of her lower stomach, before he moved southwards…

The air around them hushed when Cassian’s fingers stilled. Anticipation built and only when it vibrated with tension did Cassian slide his hands to cradle Nesta’s hips.

A snarl of frustration, but Cassian paid the sound no heed. Only grazed his thumbs over Nesta’s hipbones. Watched her expression in the mirror—the way her face contorted as she squirmed into his touch as if she was a puppet on strings. Ground back onto him, pressing into that building ache that was bordering on painful.

Fuck, Nesta.

Cassian wasn’t sure if he had spoken out loud or in his head, all he knew was the blessed, fleeting relief he felt as he bucked into the small of Nesta’s back on instinct. He was rock hard and thirsting to be touched, but the thickening scent of Nesta’s arousal pulled his focus.

A groan rumbled from Cassian’s throat as Nesta’s hand darted between her legs. He caught her wrist just in the nick of time. Kissed the heart of her palm. Rumbled into her ear, “Not yet, sweetheart.”

His voice was coarse enough that Nesta shivered, the goosebumps travelling down her skin like a cresting wave. She didn’t struggle against him, nor did she move to disobey him as he dropped her wrist. Instead, she waited, trembling and shaking at every pass of his thumbs over her skin.

Cassian buried his nose behind the shell of her ear. Breathed Nesta in, steadying the drum of his pulse.

Not once did he take his eyes off of hers in the mirror, especially as he murmured, “Shall we find out if you’re wet for me?”

Nesta squeezed her eyes tightly shut, as if the movement would steady her. Swallowed hard. It was so unlike her to take stock, to show any signs that she was rattled, that Cassian softened. He nuzzled at her neck, trailed a line of kisses instilled with promises. A hand flew up to tangle in Cassian’s hair, keeping him there.

“Yes.”

The word stuttered out of Nesta on several staccatos, but she forced her eyes open and met his gaze in the mirror. Watched as he pulled her tighter against him and hooked her legs over his thighs so she was spread wide. Slipped his hand across and down…

The first ghost of a touch had Nesta panting through her nose. The second had her gritting her teeth. The third had her moaning, her back bowing so sharply as he skimmed straight over the place she wanted him the most.

Her head hit the centre of his chest with a resounding thud that had his bones creaking, but she did not look away from him. Seemed to know the game they were playing without him having to express it.

When Cassian brought his fingers lower and discovered just how wet Nesta was, he had to force his wings in tight to his back to hide his surprise. Growled, “You’re soaked.”

Pleasure and embarrassment twisted in Cassian’s stomach, and Cassian wanted to tell her that it was not something to be ashamed of, that he wanted her just as much as she clearly wanted his fingers between her legs.

Her eyes glinted steel, her stare commanding. “Make me come—“ she ordered, but Cassian chose that moment to roll his finger over that spot at the apex of her thighs.

The command bottomed out of Nesta as she inhaled sharply. Satisfaction bloomed inside of Cassian; because he may have done this countless times before but barely enough with her. And nothing seemed to matter apart from him seeking out her satisfaction. Of learning about what made her body freeze with pleasure and what made her come undone. “There?” he murmured into her ear, repeating the movement, before he passed his fingers down further. Until they were at her entrance, playing gently before he drew upwards and circled.

This time, Nesta groaned. Her hips jerked sharply beneath him, tilting, guiding him to just the right place.

Picking up on the cue, Cassian increased the tempo and friction until Nesta’s hips were rolling in a punishing rhythm against the hard length of him.

And Cassian snarled in satisfaction, his fingers tightening around her hip in a plea for her to keep moving—to not stop pushing back on him—because it was blissfully good. The rapid tightening in his groin was almost painful, the cord so tight that Cassian thought it might snap. But he couldn’t stop Nesta, not when she looked so bewitching, the arousal so stark on her face as he stroked and circled and pressed.

Burning pleasure clambered to its peak and Nesta’s eyes grew so heavy they fluttered closed. Something unintelligible left her lips, her head tipping back into the heart of his chest.

When Nesta’s arms wound around his neck, her knuckles accidentally grazing the leather of his wings, Cassian part-snarled, part-roared. Swore. Held her even tighter as his wings snapped out high and mighty behind him. They wrapped around Nesta’s body before Cassian’s pleasure-fogged mind could stop them curling towards her, starved for her touch.

Fuck, he was unhinged. So desperate for relief—in the scent and feel of his mate—that his control was barely there. Enough so that he didn’t react when Nesta reached out her hand—

Sense knocked Cassian for six only when Nesta’s fingers were millimetres from touching the membrane. He drew back his wings so fast  the air around them stormed, but he swooped in before surprise could register on Nesta’s face. Dipped his chin and coaxed her head even further back so he could claim her mouth.

The taste of her lips was as vital as breathing, the scrape of her nails on his scalp grounding. He moaned into her mouth at the same time as she whimpered. His hand was still moving between her legs, interchanging the same three patterns over and over again, mixing things up as soon as Nesta’s moans grew too untamed: he wanted to draw out her pleasure, not sate it with a few choice strokes.

Pulling away, Cassian pressed a kiss to her forehead. Coaxed her to dip her chin until she was looking back at their reflection in the mirror: ebony and golden brown, tan and cream.

Nesta’s irises were wisps of silver, but when he traversed past that bundle of nerves so he could slip two fingers inside of her, they flickered into living flame.

That was indication enough that she liked what he was doing. Cassian had quickly learnt that Nesta became completely readable between the sheets, that mask slowly crumbling away until she broke completely.

Curving his fingers as much as he could, Cassian pressed upwards hard—again and again— revelling in the strangled sounds Nesta made. The way she writhed but tried her best to hold his gaze.

Cassian dropped a lingering kiss to the crown of Nesta’s head. Murmured into her hair, “Is that good, sweetheart?”

The only response Cassian received was a long moan which extended into a whine as he withdrew his fingers. Then a sharp cry as he swept them upwards, swirling them in a well-practiced motion that had Nesta’s lower half seizing in pleasure.

Cassian circled again. Again. Firmer. Faster. Nesta’s cries grew louder, her breathing became more laboured. A silver wreathed hand flew to his forearm—not to stop him, but to keep him there.

Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

The bond between them creaked and cracked as it expanded.

Nesta panted his name.

“Are you going to come for me, sweetheart?” Cassian scratched out.

In vain, Nesta attempted to burrow her head into his shoulder, but Cassian’s voice dropped out of soft and into the role of general within the fraction of a heartbeat. “Eyes on the mirror, Nesta, or I’ll stop.”

It seemed to take all of Nesta’s energy to fight her leaded eyelids and meet his dark eyes in their reflection. When she did, Cassian’s magic roared and pounded beneath his skin, as if it was trying to break free and join Nesta’s. There was a pressure and power fuelling the sensation that was separate to him. It was like the magnetic force which rules the relentless ebb and flow of the tide—that desperate crash followed by a scrabbling, thundering retreat.

That twisted rope between them grew corporeal, tugging at their ribcages as if it was clambering to remind them both of its existence. Of the cost of this exchange.

Something deepened in both of their gazes, but if Nesta had felt what Cassian had, she gave no indication. She only arched her hips back into his, grinding backwards.

Cassian loosed a rough groan that skittered across the shell of her ear. Her gaze was purposeful but hooded, as if she was in a continual battle with the pleasure weighting her eyelids.

“Good girl,” he praised as Nesta’s eyelashes fluttered from the strain of maintaining eye contact. And then his fingers were everywhere at once and Nesta’s moans fell away to short gasps that rose in volume.

Nesta tightened her fingers around his neck, scrabbling for purchase, for some sort of tether as her pleasure launched high into the air. The hand that had been at her hip, steadying her, encouraging her to roll back on him moved to her breast; cupping and pinching and rolling as she stuttered pants and words that Cassian couldn’t make out.

When Cassian slid two fingers inside of her again and pressed down firmly on her clit with his palm, Nesta’s cry was wild.

“Look at me,” Cassian ordered as Nesta’s eyes flew shut. His voice was resonant—startling—even to him. It punched through the bubble that had encased them—their entwined scent—and Nesta’s eyes snapped open.

For a beat, time seemed to stand still around them. Their gaze fastened back into place and for a moment, Cassian could see a conflict of thoughts swirl in the magic of Nesta’s irises.

He froze just as anguish crashed down that bond, right into the heart of his chest.

It knocked the breath from him. Confusion rattled inside of his head but he came up empty of answers. Had he gone too far? Had he hurt her somehow?

“Sweetheart—“ he started, but stopped. Unsure of what to say because he could still smell how much she wanted this. Could feel how soaked she was. But perhaps that was what the mating bond did. Fooled reason with an overwhelming drive to pleasure and claim.

Cassian went to draw his hand away but Nesta’s hand whipped out, her fingers curling around his wrist. Desperation flooded her next words—the plea in them stark. “Don’t stop.”

As if to punctuate her point, she rolled her hips. His fingers slid over her of her own accord and she stumbled a moan. Light barrelled down the bond and Cassian’s blood spiked, thrilled as he felt the truth of her words, as she ground back into him again.

“Fuck that feels good,” Cassian grunted into her ear. His hips pushed into the small of her back, accentuating his point. It chased the delicious reprieve from the ache in his cock, even as he knew this moment wasn’t about him. As he pulled her back into the solid muscle of his chest, steadying her movements so he could pick up where he left off: so he could watch the pleasure whip away her conflicted expression until her eyes were once again blazing with the promise of flame.

Silver mist climbed from Nesta’s fingertips into the air. It crawled over the glowing ruby siphons across the backs of his hands, past the corded muscle of his forearm and the rolled up sleeves of his tunic, to his chest, his neck…

A sheen of metal shone in Cassian’s eyes, flickering across his irises so they appeared to turn a metallic gold. The lick of Nesta’s magic didn’t burn. It was a rush of heat—the tender caress of a lover’s kiss instilled into his skin over and over again, ascending Cassian to another realm of pleasure, as if he’d climbed a staircase to an entirely new place.

It felt like an extended method of foreplay Cassian had never been privy to before, lighting up every nerve ending until he was so hard he could cut stone.

Gritting his teeth through the pain-cloaked pleasure, Cassian focussed instead on Nesta’s bare skin.

The tempting fullness of her breasts. The way desire had completely rewritten her countenance. The way she whimpered and then cried out.

Cassian sped up his movements. Until his fingers were no longer teasing, but dancing over her with sure, quick movements designed to thrust her towards a crescendo.

Nesta’s magic swirled into flame, the heat of it a licking promise down Cassian’s limbs. He groaned, swore at the exquisite pain on her face as she hung at the precipice, ready to plummet into rapture.

Her climax became a tangible, living thing and Cassian wanted to see it play out for as long as he possible could. Wanted to see her break for him again and again and again.

So, he waited until she reached the summit and when she was there he slowed down his movements. Ordered through her whimpering, “Look at me Nesta.”

Metallic irises met his, and then Nesta was trembling and shaking in fits and bursts as her release ripped out of her like a taut cord cut loose. Cassian drew her orgasm out as best he could, suspending that pleasure until finally Nesta slumped against him, spineless.

She turned her head to bury it in his shoulder and Cassian let her. Stroked her hair. Pressed a kiss to her sweaty head. Murmured, “Good?”

Slowly, Nesta nodded, but for a long while, that was the only communication he received. But Cassian let her recover. Watched the way her ribcage moved as she heaved for breath. Relished the way her body was splayed out over him, her legs held wide open from where they were hooked over his thighs.

Unable to help himself, Cassian brushed over her sex. Delighted in the way Nesta shuddered rather than batted him away. Fresh desire reignited across her expression and Cassian played gently for a few minutes, revelling in the wetness that had gathered from her release.

Finally, Nesta lifted her head to meet his gaze again. “Did I burn you?”

“No,” Cassian replied hoarsely, his heart squeezing at the genuine fear in her words. He let out a rough laugh, passed his fingers lightly over the knot at the apex of her legs for the last time before he withdrew them.

Nesta moaned softly, even as her brow twisted into a small frown.

“It felt good,” Cassian elaborated. He kissed her shoulder at the same time that he pushed his hips into hers as if to demonstrate just how much he’d liked her magic. “I’m being strangled to death in these pants,” he confessed.

When Nesta cocked her head, her hair moved in a golden tangle. Then she smirked. Unravelled her limbs from him and turned.

Nesta slung her legs over his waist so she was straddling him just as Cassian’s hands caught in her hair. A booming sounded as his wings snapped out and fanned behind him, settling like falling fabric.

“We can’t have that,” Nesta remarked, her breath a whisper against his skin.

“No,” Cassian agreed roughly. “It’s your favourite part.”

Nesta snorted a laugh, but it was not derisive. “Egotistical bat,” she muttered.

A slow, smug smile was Cassian’s only reply. Because he was more focussed on her mouth. With the feel of her silken skin beneath his palms as he ran them up her legs and over her rounded ass. His touch was a promise as he tugged her into his body and ground up into her core, the seam of his trousers doing nothing to relieve the damning ache in his cock.

Together they gasped, and then, as always, they moved at the same time, their mouths slanting one another within a fraction of a second.

The heat of Nesta was liquid, the touch of her smoke—feverish and everywhere all at once. It was the same heat that had roared into existence when Cassian had pinned her against the wall earlier, yet… better somehow. Passionate and awake rather than fogged with lust. Life-giving.

A shuddered groan was pulled from Cassian’s chest as Nesta’s hands slid beneath his tunic and met his burning skin. And then the tunic was on the floor—the rest of his clothing was torn from him soon after. It all happened at such speed Cassian could barely keep up, but when Nesta reached for his bare, burning skin—the tattoos on his arms and the faint scar on his stomach—her fingers were gentle.

“Battle scar,” Cassian panted in explanation, as Nesta’s fingers lingered on the silvery tissue that wound over his lower abdomen: a permanent reminder of what had happened to him during the final battle with Hybern. “The trauma was too great for Madja to heal completely.”

“I remember,” Nesta replied shortly and she looked so fierce that Cassian reached for her. Cupped her cheek with his palm.

“Still breathing, Nes.”

Nesta nodded, but when she kissed him this time there was something fierce and desperate about it, her fingers burying deeper into the mane of his hair.

And then a hand was trailing down his skin and closing around his cock. The touch was sinful and a glimpse of the heavens. When he hissed into her mouth, Nesta gripped tighter—until pain laced the pleasure—just how he liked it.

His groan was that of rumbling thunder as she began to move her hand. It was everything Cassian needed, but it was too much, too good. He scrambled to hold on to some sense of control, because he’d never been this close to losing it from just a few touches.

Then Nesta stopped. Glanced downwards—

The realisation thumped through Cassian so loudly his heartbeat punched like a fist against his ribcage.

“Don’t you dare,” Cassian choked out.

Nesta’s eyes shot to his, but rather than looking startled she arched a challenging eyebrow.

“If you so much as try to put my cock in your mouth I’ll explode,” Cassian rasped.

Before she could protest, he was gathering her to him and had slipped a hand down between her legs.

Just the touch of his fingers had Cassian seizing back control. Nesta stilled at the sudden pleasure, as if she was trying to coax time into suspending the sensation.

“Still so wet,” Cassian purred against the tip of her ear.

Gliding his fingers over the centre of her, Cassian paused briefly at the apex of her legs, toying with her clit, before he ran them back down. When he drew his fingers back, rubbing them together and raising them to the faelight, they glittered.

Nesta’s nostrils flared as if she was an animal in heat. And Cassian knew before he spoke that his voice? would be what pushed them over the edge. But he said it anyway, his voice dropping impossibly low,  “Is this all for me?”

Nesta launched at him until their mouths collided, until they were nothing but a clash of teeth and tongues, their skin so flush they may as well have been fused together.

Burying her fingers deeper into the tangled mane of his hair, Nesta tugged sharply. Met his gaze head on. Demanded, “Fuck me.”

All it took was those two words. Cassian moved, flipping them so Nesta’s back was flush against the mattress. He covered her body with his and Nesta whined at the contact, her body bending and arching towards him as if she were a plant and he was sunlight.

Cassian ran a hand up her bare thigh to her ass, coaxing her leg to bend, but Nesta was too impatient. She broke free from the weight of his body, repositioning herself until legs were wrapped tightly around his hips.

An uneven laugh choked out of him. “So stubborn,” Cassian chided darkly, but he allowed his hips to fall into the cradle of hers. Hissed as he loosed his control and thrust so his cock could glide through her centre. “Fuck,” he grunted. “Nesta, fuck.”

Nesta’s breathy whine fuelled the sparks of pleasure that crackled through him like static energy. He kissed her hard. “There’s a high probability I won’t survive this.”

The snort Nesta loosed tried to sound unaffected, but her voice shook as she accused him, “Liar.”

But he wasn’t lying. And Nesta knew it. She had to know it because his walls were now shattered around them in splintered shards.

Yet, Cassian found himself assuring her. “Not lying," he grunted as he passed over her again. Pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth—a parting goodbye as he moved to kiss the underside of her jaw, down the column of her throat. Down further, to flick his tongue and scrape his teeth over both nipples.

He moaned when she moaned; their sounds a chorus of want until he couldn’t take it anymore. Cassian’s claws clipped around the metal of the bed frame at the same time that he pushed off of the palms that were framing her face, until he was on his knees before her.

Despite the desire coursing through him, Cassian’s head was nothing but clear as he slid his hands under Nesta’s ass and lifted her effortlessly, positioning her so that the undersides of her thighs were flush against his knees.

Nesta’s hair was tousled over the pillow, her lips swollen and parted as she surveyed him. When she tried to wrap her legs back around his hips, Cassian held firm. And despite the fact that Nesta listened to nobody, she allowed him to bend her knees and press his calloused palms to the insides of her thighs in silent instruction.

They fell open and a growl rumbled in Cassian’s throat. His hand was fisting his cock, lining it up to her entrance before he knew what was happening. But then he remembered the pain from before. And even though Nesta was more than ready for him, the thought of hurting her made him feel physically sick.

When he moved away, Nesta let out a strangled noise. A hand shot out, closing around his wrist. “You said you’d fuck me.”

Cassian wanted to explain, but that meant alluding to that tie between them, that instinct that couldn’t allow him to see her hurt. Cassian knew Nesta wasn’t ready for that. Knew that if he so much as breathed a word about it that this precious moment would fall away.

And Cassian was selfish. He had to see how this played out. Had to know if Nesta could grow to accept the bond between them—deem him worthy enough to accept something that was Cauldron blessed.

So, he only drawled, “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

One swift movement had Cassian gathering Nesta into his arms. This time, he allowed Nesta’s legs to wind around him. She gripped him like a vice and Cassian knew it wasn’t from fear of him dropping her. When he sat back against the headboard and guided her onto his lap, Cassian expected her to bite out a comment about doing all of the work, but Nesta only let out a pleased sound. Weaved a hand back into his ebony hair. Wrapped a tight fist around his length, twisting once at the tip, before she guided him to her entrance.

Cassian hissed a curse as she closed around the head. Murmured her name into her mouth. Gripped tightly at her hips when she didn’t stop sinking down on him, as he felt that pain mixed with the sweetest pleasure.

“Nesta.” The way he said her name was firm and commanding, but he still had to dig his fingers hard enough into her skin that he was sure it would leave temporary bruises. The thought made him falter, but then that sharp pain flared again as she resisted against him, and he knew that the bruises were a necessary evil. “Nesta,” he barked, “Go slowly.”

Something creaked and cracked between them. A stretching, growing pain reached its fingers down that bond, the sensation strong rather than constricted as it fought to make its way down their usually thin tie.

Nails dug into Cassian’s neck. A whimper sounded in his ears as Nesta fell forwards, burying her face into his neck. “Please,” she whined in frustration. “Cassian—”

She broke off as she clamped down around him and Cassian felt an ebb of pleasure cut through the pain—that promise of something more.

“Don’t make me hurt you, sweetheart,” Cassian pleaded and the rawness in his voice stopped her resisting against him. He eased a hand between them, touched her right where she wanted him. Allowed her to tug his face upwards so she could kiss him. It was infused with desperation and Cassian eased his hold on her hip. Allowed her to lower herself downwards until she had slid another inch deeper. Continued to stroke her until Nesta began to shake.

“I’m going to—,” Nesta gasped against his mouth. Her body trembled and Cassian’s blood roared at bringing her to the edge again so soon, despite the pain. “Cassian—”

Abruptly, Cassian moved his hand away.

Nesta’s snarl whipped around the room, but Cassian smoothed the sound away by fusing his mouth on hers. She stopped shaking but the sharp bite of Nesta’s glare pierced its teeth through his flesh in a flash of silver.

“It will be better if you wait,” Cassian gritted out in explanation when they parted. Nesta’s breath gusted against his skin. “And I don’t think I can hold on if you come so soon. You feel so good, Nesta. So tight.”

As if on cue, Nesta contracted around him and Cassian ground his teeth together so hard that the muscle in his jaw worked. But he let Nesta slide down on him another inch. Then another. And another. Until their hips were finally flush with one another and that pain had bled away until it was nothing.

The moaned words that fell from Nesta were indistinguishable, but he felt her tremor. Felt that surge inside of him as Nesta repeated herself with a whine that indicated she was toppling over the ledge of control, like a glass teetering before it fell.

And then she was moving and Cassian let her. He was unable to think or breathe. Could only focus on the feel of her.

“Fuck,” Cassian groaned. His head thunked back hard against the headboard as she ground her hips into his, testing the feel of him. “This is better than I’d dreamed.”

No soft snicker, only an untamed whine. Then teeth scraping a sinful path down his neck to his pulse.

Cassian’s hips kicked up hard as her teeth nipped.

“Sorry,” he gasped, because even though Nesta had told him not to hold back, he was still concerned about hurting her. But Nesta’s fingernails bit into his skin and her body moulded to him—a delicious second skin—as she inhaled sharply. “Again,” she demanded with a fierceness that did not allow disobedience. “Do that again—”

It didn’t take a second command for Cassian to thrust up hard. And true to her word, Nesta took him all. Did not change her mind and ask him to hold back. Instead, Cassian knew that this was exactly what she wanted—no, needed. She needed this punishing rhythm just as much as he did.

And it felt… incredible. Beyond anything Cassian had ever felt before. The blood roaring in his ears intermingled with Nesta’s cries and the slap of his hips meeting hers, was the only thing he could hear, his senses narrowed down to the sensation of her wrapped around him, so tight …

It was too good. It threatened to break him, to take everything that he was and reform it entirely, as if he was going to shatter and be pieced back together as someone else entirely. The air around them became taut with pressure, tanning leather stretched too tight over a rack, as if their joining controlled one of the essential elements.

“Cassian.” That one word threatened to break him. Not bat or it or you, only his name falling from her lips as if it was their secret. “More.”

Exhaling a curse, Cassian planted his feet firmly on the mattress and thrust up with as much vigour as he could muster. The movement had them slipping from their upright position and Cassian’s claws absent-mindedly closed around the metal bed frame, strapping them in for the ride as his body coiled and tensed as he slammed into her over and over.

Nesta cried out. Grabbed fistfuls of his hair as they moved together as if they had been made for this moment, their wild gasps melded together until they were one.

Only when release teetered too close to the edge did Cassian drop the rhythm. Cupped the breasts he had dreamed of more times than he could count. The breasts he’d had the privilege of seeing bare and glorious only twice before.

Capturing a nipple between his teeth, Cassian scraped his teeth hard enough that Nesta stopped rocking and angled her hips until he was pressing impossibly deep inside her. She whimpered. Clenched and unclenched. Throbbed in a way that told him she was as close as he was—that if he wasn’t so close himself, he could drive her over the edge with a few well-timed thrusts.

The understanding had him letting out a jagged groan. “Are you close, sweetheart?”

A whine in response, but Cassian didn’t let it go. He raked back the hair from her sweaty forehead. Pressed his lips to her swollen ones in a lingering kiss. Watched the frown that knitted her brow as she was overtaken by the feel of them.

“What do you need, Nesta. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”

Nesta wound her hands around his head, buried her face into his neck. Began swaying and circling her hips in a rhythm that was dictated purely by the chase of pleasure. “Just… this,” she panted. “I just need this.”

Then it was only the licking fire of her breath against his skin. The magic that curled around them like a heated blanket and the building anticipation of both of their releases, which pulled at him like a strange sort of magnetism, begging him to fall with her in unison.

“Cassian—” Nesta began in warning, but he had already felt her begin to quake, as if the ground was moving beneath their feet—the mountains trembling.

That pull became a driving force—a cresting wave of pleasure so profound that Cassian felt that twist inside of him—that signal that he was about to join her.

He groaned, jerking his head back so it collided with wood, the pain grounding him enough that he could say, “That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

As soon as the words left his lips, Nesta broke, as if she’d been waiting for him to ask it of her. Her cry was muffled and Cassian wanted to tear her mouth from his neck—to hear her break for him—but then she was sinking her teeth into his skin right over his pulse.

Roaring, Cassian kicked his hips up hard on instinct as she marked him, but the shock distracted him. Clouded the desperate clamber of his release so he could hold himself back.

Cassian held tightly onto Nesta as she slumped against him. When she lifted her teeth from him, Nesta whined like an animal. Dragged her tongue over the dent she’d made in his neck—once, twice, three times.

He shuddered. Couldn’t help it. Turned his face into her hair. Breathed her in. The gesture was tender, like an animal tending to the wound of a significant other—its mate.

And wrapped in this moment, Cassian could almost believe that this was something more than sex for Nesta as her forehead came to rest on his collarbone. As she kissed the hollow of his throat. Then the knot. His lips.  

“Good?” Cassian asked softly. He lifted a hand to her face, ran a calloused thumb over her cheekbone.

Nesta made a rare, content sound that vibrated through him like a balm. She leant into his hand, her eyelashes swooping down.

When she finally pulled back to survey him, her eyes were still dark. She shifted her hips. Moaned quietly. Rasped, “You’re still hard.”

It was a miracle Cassian hadn’t followed. If it hadn’t been for her teeth in his neck, Cassian would have been wrestling with the embarrassment of finishing too soon.

“I was too preoccupied with your teeth in my neck.”

A flush crept its way up Nesta’s face, like vines reaching their wicked encroaching fingers up a wall. But she raised her chin. “You wanted me to do it.”

It was true, he had wanted her to. And he wanted to do the same to her—to mark her as his so everyone would know that she was off limits for the brief hours before her body healed.

“And what about you?”

The patter of Nesta’s heart broke into a sprint. It was the only thing that betrayed her feelings, her expression devoid of any reaction. “What do you mean?”

Cassian leant forward until their noses brushed. Lifted his eyebrows. “Do you want me to bite you, Nesta?”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. If she had wings, they’d have flung wide by now. Would have collided with furniture and cut through air.

That was answer enough.

In one movement, Cassian lifted himself up and over, until Nesta was on her back and he was pressing her body into the mattress. Breath gushed out of her lungs but it was not from fear, not as Nesta turned herself out bare and tilted her chin for him—for once not in defiance but as an act of vulnerability—of complete and utter trust.

Every instinct in Cassian clambered to the surface, but he closed a fist around it until its life fluttered against the cage of his palms and fingers: his to control, rather than the other way around.

Slowly, Cassian lowered his nose to the exposed skin and breathed her in: her scent and the life that pummelled beneath her skin, the roaring of her blood as it crashed through her veins. It took everything in him not to move inside of her, to thrust up hard and feel the way her breasts would move against his chest.

“I could do it right here,” Cassian murmured, his mouth ghosting over the pale column of her neck until he came across that pulse. He brushed a tongue across it.

The movement was a mirror of what he’d done before in the human realm and Nesta knew it. But this time she did not jerk back from him demanding what he’d done. Instead, her body drew up beneath him, exposing more of her neck, begging for more.

Cassian groaned, raking his teeth over that swell at the same time that he pushed in deep. Nesta’s groan was guttural and everything. His blood turned molten, so hot that he expected his skin to melt away until he was nothing but bones.

“Please,” Nesta panted, her fingers tightening around his back.

Another flick of his tongue over her pulse. “Do you want me to bite you or fuck you?”

“Both.”

That was enough to loosen the fist on Cassian’s control. He sat back on his knees, prying her hands from his neck, coaxing her fingers until they were above her head and clasped around the railings of the headboard. Nesta’s breasts rose with the movement, her peaked nipples so tempting he bent to take one into his mouth. Then the other. Suckled until she mewled and her nipples were no longer rosy but red from his attention.

Cassian lifted his head and surveyed Nesta. Warned her, “Hold on tight.”

And then there was no thinking, no worrying or desperation to hold back. It all came as easy as breathing, their tempo,the snap of his hips and the shift of the mattress as her body shouldered the impact. At some point, Cassian’s body fell over hers, needing to feel every inch of her against him. His wild, punishing rhythm dropped into a rough rocking that was intimate at the same time it was claiming.

Nesta didn’t seem to mind—let out a pleased moan of consent, her legs clamping tighter around his hips until they were flush with hers. When he next moved she whined, and Cassian felt that change inside of her—somehow—that twisting fist of pleasure that glimmered down the bond, pushing against the walls of that thread, pushing it wider and wider, like a heart expanding.

Silver-wreathed fingers tugged his head down until Nesta could claim his mouth, fusing them together so they were complete. Cassian shuddered as her fire cascaded from her fingertips and down his body. His magic, attracted to hers, began to suck out of his pores, but it didn’t leech him of power. Instead, it was like his magic was searching for its mate, desperate to be reunited.

Then that sensation again, as if Cassian had ducked beneath something and had come up for air somewhere else.

Ruby greeted silver like a long-lost lover, blending until their magic was a metallic sheen of scarlet—a fog that misted their bodies, rubbing tantalisingly against their skin as they rocked and moaned their way to release.

“Don’t stop,” Nesta begged desperately through stuttered breaths, and Cassian wondered how many times she’d reached this pinnacle with other males only for it to be taken from her.

Cassian’s hand found its way to her face, his thumb stroking over her cheek as that coiled release twisted across her devastatingly beautiful face. “Can’t,” he panted honestly, his other hand searching for hers across the mattress until he was clasping it—holding on for dear life. “I’m so close, sweetheart. You have no idea how good you feel.”

“Come with me then,” Nesta pleaded. Her eyelashes had fluttered downwards as she took in a sharp breath of pleasure, but now they opened. Stared deep into his soul. “Come with me—”

Then her body turned both loose and taut, clamping yet completely molten as her release ripped out of her.

“Fuck,” Cassian swore. Invisible hands clasped around his ass, tugging him deeper—deeper. Everything in him tightened as Nesta crashed around him, and that siren called to him, singing her name, over and over as pleasure clawed at him, desperate to whip out of him.

Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

Cassian launched at her neck, his teeth sinking deep enough to claim as Nesta cried out, her body trembling as he continued to thrust into her, wringing out her release at the same time he desperately clambered towards his own.

He managed to pull out just in time, his teeth still deep in her neck, his release spilling hot onto her stomach in bursts of pleasure.

And even though Cassian had vowed to bite her and Nesta had already marked him, he found himself apologising at the red, angry dents in her skin. How was it that he couldn’t bare to hurt her but biting her neck was a completely different story?

“Sorry,” Cassian rasped. His mouth was as dry as a desert as he gingerly touched his fingers to the marks, but Nesta’s fingers clasped around his, halting him. Then she raised her other hand and brushed her knuckles over the identical marking on his. Reminding him that she’d done the same—had been the first to do it.

“I liked it,” Nesta admitted brazenly, but she didn’t stop him from dragging his tongue over the marks. Shivered instead. Held his head to her.

“That was intense,” Cassian rasped eventually against her ear, after the quiet had settled over them like a blanket. He nuzzled at her neck again, unable to help it—just one more precious moment like this until he had to pull away.

When Cassian pulled back to meet Nesta’s eyes, he found that the blue bled back into her irises. “It was always going to be intense,” she replied frankly.

Then Nesta looked down at her body, as if she’d only just remembered how he’d marked her in a different way. “You didn’t have to do that—pull out. I can take a tonic.”

Cassian hadn’t wanted to pull out at all—and neither had that tie which bound them together—but that wasn’t the point. “I’d rather be cautious,” he explained—a little too shortly, because Nesta bristled.

“Neither of us have had a tonic in a while,” Cassian elaborated when Nesta’s expression hardened.

He tried not to think about how his body had been desperate to spill inside of her. For him to press as deep as he possibly could until he was spent.

Climbing off of the bed, Cassian disappeared down the hallway and into the bathroom. When he returned, he was holding a wet towel.

“A while?” Nesta queried, picking up their conversation, as he began to clean her up.

Cassian cocked an eyebrow, but he didn’t dare meet her eyes lest she read him. His shoulders turned rigid at the thought. “Have you been sneaking people in and out of the bungalow that I’m not aware of?” he asked.

They both knew that Cassian would tear any male she brought back to the bungalow to pieces, but neither of them voiced it.

“You go back to Velaris,” Nesta accused. “You visit the other camps.”

For a moment, Cassian stared at her. Did she believe that he’d been fucking other fae? She had taunted him in Velaris the other day, but Cassian had thought that it was just their extended, agonising tussle of foreplay.

Perhaps you should go in search of some female company tonight.

Cassian managed to huff a breath, but it wasn’t one of amusement. He knew that his expression was steely as he said, “I told you that I don’t sleep with Illyrians. And I haven’t been fucking around in Velaris.”

From the way Nesta’s expression darkened, Cassian wasn't sure she believed him.

She opened her mouth to throw back a retort, but Cassian wanted the discussion to end. If she knew he’d barely touched another female since he’d met her, she’d run the other way. It was too intense a confession for someone who didn’t know what they wanted.

“It was self-inflicted,” Cassian supplied, his tone flinty enough to warn her that he wasn’t willing to discuss the subject any further.

Climbing off of the bed to further his point, Cassian extended a hand towards her. Banished any of the rigidity to his posture. “Come stand in the tub with me.”

There was a sinful promise behind the order. Already Cassian could envisage how he’d press Nesta against the tiles, his lips trailing open mouthed kisses as he kneeled before her—

Nesta must have thought similarly, because the pleasure that sparked in his stomach was not his own. But still she studied him, her head cocked as if she was trying to figure him out. Her hair was a muss of golden brown, her skin glistening with sweat that Cassian wanted to lick off.

Nesta parted her lips, taking stock, but Cassian didn’t allow her to speak. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he vowed. Meant it. Because already he was turning hard again, that desire to have her roaring.

He’d known this would happen. Knew that finally being inside of her wouldn’t sate him but stoke the embers into flames. But Cassian didn’t hide it—utterly unashamed of this need for her. From the way Nesta’s nostrils billowed, he knew she'd marked the change in his scent.

Nesta’s eyes flicked to his cock and the she-devil smirked, her lips curving in a way that had Cassian thinking about how they might wrap around him—how her tongue might feel, how warm she’d be…

In one supple movement, Nesta stood. Took his hand, her slim fingers threading around his large ones. Raised her chin and levelled him with a smoky blue gaze that promised wicked, wonderful things. “Then lead the way, general.”

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @lovelynesta @melphss @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @valkyriesupremacy @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @ellies-iced-coffee @nehemikkele @misswonderflower

[poppywrites41]

Captive Love Chapter 1

Prince!Yoongi x Maid!Reader

AN: this MIGHT turn into an ot7 fic. honestly depends on my mood, i dont rlly have a plan for this so it might not even be completed itself. Here is the first chapter for it. lmk what y’all think!!

If y’all like it, i will keep posting, but I will be busy until May with university assignments.

WARNING: Implied death, cursing, sexual references. There will be more smut and violence to come in future chapters. If anyone is triggered by smut, non-con, death or violence, DO NOT INTERACT ANY FURTHER IN THIS BOOK.

The man watched with cold eyes as the young female body fell from his hold to the floor with a thud. He kneeled down and places his hand on her neck to check for a pulse. When he found no signs of life, he sighed in annoyance, “Fuck...I didn’t even get to try her out yet.” What was her name again? He didn’t know. Well, he didn’t really care. If he is feeling frustrated, there is usually one in his vicinity doing her chores where he can just grab them and do as he pleases. They don’t fight and he likes that, but it has started to get boring. This girl was different. She was probably new and didn’t know what to do, so she had a tiny bit of fight to her. But, she apparently didn’t know how to clean his desk properly, so she got herself a little too hard of a squeeze to the neck.

The prince huffed and went down the hall to let the guards know to remove the body that was in his chambers. They immediately took action, rushing with haste to remove the inconvenience from their majesty’s room. The man walked into the banquet hall where his parents and 6 brothers were eating their dinner.

“Yoongi my daring!” his mother called him over to her, taking his hand, “you must try the elk! Jungkook killed it today and it’s the biggest one anyone has ever shot! It is absolutely delicious!” Yoongi looked over at his youngest brother who had two servant girls on either side of him, begging for his attention. It annoyed Yoongi that Jungkook could just bat an eyelash and would have 5 women at his feet ready to suck his cock. Why the fuck was he so popular? “Nice kill.” he said to the youngest as he sat down next to his second younger brother, Namjoon. Namjoon was one of the brothers he tolerated well. He was a smart man and handsome at that. If he had been born first, he would have been a good king. He also had good luck when it came to fucking.

“Mother,” Yoongi said as he was served a piece of elk with roasted vegetables, “I need a new bedchamber maid.” His mother sighed, “Did you dispose of another one already?! Didn’t she just start last week? Yoongi, this is the 4th one in the past month and a half!” “She couldn’t do her job properly. I did what I had to.” The second eldest prince huffed.

“Mother,” Jimin, the third youngest spoke up, “where are you finding these women? What’s their status?” “I think this last batch came from Hearthfield. A few of the girls were daughters of the noblemen whom we paid handsomely for.” she recalled. Jimin laughed, “That’s your problem! You’ve been getting girls who don’t do that stuff. You need to go to Seaport to find the best girls. That’s were I get my bedchamber maids from. They know how to work, and they know how to properly serve a man.” The queen smiled warmly at her third youngest, “Thank you Jimin. Yoongi, I will send out the guards to Seaport to find more women to work at the castle. You may come down to the courtyard and inspect them. Though you may not pick yet, for they need to be trained.” “Thank you mother,” Yoongi said as he dug into his meal.

“Y/N!” an older male voice called to the girl staring at the sea, “Go help your brother with the crab traps. Remember, females with eggs-“ “get thrown back, males as big as the palm can stay. Got it!” the young girl finished for him, jogging along the dirt path to their dock.

Y/N and her family are fishermen. Well, her stepfather and stepbrother are. Her mother passed away 3 years ago when she was 18 and she never really could recall her own father. Her stepfather wasn’t a bad person. He treated her like a human being, but there was always a wall that she felt he put up around himself. She and her stepbrother tolerated each other when it came to working. He wasn’t the worst person in the world, but he always made it known that he was superior to her. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t belong in her own home, but she enjoys working by the sea. She walked onto the dock where her stepbrother was already going through one of their crab traps. “Hey,” he said, not looking up at her, “you know what to do. Better go fast so we make it back before dark.” Y/N nodded and went to the next crab trap, opening it up and sorting their catch. The sun had begun to set when they finished. Y/N and her stepbrother loaded the wagon with buckets of crab. Her brother got on and started the horse towards the village where the best crabs will be picked to be taken to the royal family. “You go on back. I’ll take them.” her stepbrother said. She nodded and began walking back home. Y/N never thought much of the royal family other than being jealous that they get the best of what they caught. She sometimes wonders what they are like. As she walks back, she closes her eyes and feels the sea wind on her face. She can practically taste the salt in the wind. She’s happy here. She doesn’t need to worry about some royal family. Her life is good.

When Y/N was finally able to spot her home, she saw a group of men in armor with horses in front of her home, conversing with her step dad. She thinks nothing of it and continues her walk. She then notices the head guard hand over a sack of what looked like money to her stepfather. Y/N got excited thinking that maybe the royals were paying their subjects extra money for their good food and ran toward her stepfather. When she arrived, all of the men looked at her. “Is this her?” the guard asked her stepfather. “Yes sir,” he replied, “she does not have much to pack that she would really need there, so she is ready to go whenever.” Y/N looked at her stepfather in confusion, “Where am I going? What do I need to get?��� Before he could answer, the guard spoke, “The king and queen sent us out to find young women to serve them in the castle. We seem to have had a drop in servants recently and are paying families to hand over their daughters.” “But you surly must have enough!” she said, sending a pleading look to her father, “we are happy here! I wouldn’t be much help! I only know how to fish!” “Y/N!” her stepfather’s voice increased, “You must go. We have barely had enough money to feed three mouths since your mother died. She would have agreed to this.” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her family was giving her up? After all she had done for them? Tears began to well up in her eyes. The guard was the next to speak, “I will give you three minutes. Grab what you can carry, come back out and get into the wagon. We leave for the castle.” Y/N barley nodded and slowly walked into her home to her room. She got a small crossbody satchel and put her small stuffed bear her mom made her in it, her favorite shell and her notebook. She found her mom’s necklace and put it on. It was a simple necklace; a silver pendant that had the words “my love for you is as great as the sea” etched into it. When she came out, her brother had just returned. She looked at him and he avoided her gaze which broke her heart. “Come girl,” the captain said, “We haven’t got all day. We must return this evening.” Y/N nodded and followed his horse to the wagon. When she hopped on, there were only 6 other women. They were very pretty so she felt left out. Granted, Y/N didn’t really have the luxury of having a mirror so she never really knew if she was pretty, not that she cared anyways. She looked back at her home as it slowly disappeared from view, already missing her life on the sea. After what seemed to be a few hours, the group arrived at the gate of a great stone castle. Y/N thought the castle came straight from a fairy tale book.

The wagon was brought into the courtyard where there was an older woman waiting. The girls were lined up in front of her. She walked down the line of young girls, inspecting them. She sighed and turned around to face them all. “Welcome, ladies, to the castle of Bangtan. My name is Lilith and I am your head maid. You all have been chosen to be servants of the royal family. These duties include cleaning the interior of castle, serving food to the royal family at meals or guests during balls, doing their laundry or fetching anything they ask for. There are a few rules you MUST follow; NEVER look a royal in the eye unless told to by one, NEVER speak informally to a royal, only speak when spoken to and NEVER refuse service to a royal. Do what you are told and life will be easy. Now, your training will begin at 7 AM, I will take you to your quarters. I will show you where to meet me in the morning. Come along and do not fall behind.” The girls looked at each other in confusion as they followed the head maid into the castle. Y/N felt someone staring at her but when she looked back, she saw nothing. She quickly followed the group into the doors so that she won’t be left behind.

“So my darling,” the queen said to her second oldest son, “what do you think?” Yoongi huffed as he watched the girl with h/c hair rush to catch up to the group. “She looks like work,” the queen sighed, “hopefully she will last longer than the one who was disposed of three days after arriving.” Yoongi on the other hand was intrigued by the young girl. He couldn’t get a good look at her face, but her posture was different from the other girls. They were making themselves small while she stood tall. She seemed strong, like she had some fight in her. Yoongi is intrigued by that. The queen could see the wheels turning in his head, “Has one already caught your attention my dear?” “There is one that is particularly interesting,” he said folding his arms, “but we will have to see.” “Do not mess with them immediately,” the queen warned, “they need to train and get used to their new environment. Give them a week.” With that she pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked back inside. Yoongi went back to his room and lay down on his bed. He couldn’t get that h/c out of his head. He knew he was not supposed to interact with the new servants until they are properly trained, but what’s training without an actual royal? A smirk played on the prince’s lips as he thought about the next day until he fell asleep.

[cinnamonrusts]

i’ll see you in the village -- 1

Chris Redfield last saw you before he went rogue from the BSAA. You were tasked with infiltrating a suspicious European village and  investigating their female leader. The secret communication between the two of you goes dark and Chris finds himself along with Ethan Winters in the neck of the woods that your list ping came from. Redfield has to deal with his task of aiding Ethan, his job, and his personal quest to find you. (chris redfield x f!reader)

                                                         ���.* ✧.*

Your cellphone dings in your hand:

CHRIS : How’s it going?

ME: Oh, you know. Same shit, different day. Nervous, I guess.

ME: How about you?

…

ME: Chris?

CHRIS: Yeah, same. Are you on a secured network?

ME: Duh. This is a burner phone, I’ll toss it once I arrive.

CHRIS: Good luck, I miss seeing you.

ME: Buy me a drink when we meet up next.

You end the conversation there and take the cellphone in both of your hands. You use force to pull it apart from the center and it breaks with a loud snap. It would be the last time that you would talk to Redfield until your task was finished. Hopefully sooner than later, if things go well that is.

✧.*

The rusted van that was taking you to your mission location shook wildly as it hit rugged terrain. “Sorry, sorry! We’re just about there.” the driver apologizes as you bounce around the backseat. You huff in frustration as all your contents in your lap spilled onto the floor. You wanted nothing more to get out of this metal trash can and stretch your legs. But it wasn’t much longer until the winding roads up into the mountains stopped and there was just one long stretch of snow covered dirt. Suddenly, the vehicle came to a grinding halt just as a massive gothic like castle came into the horizon. “This is where we stop.” 

“I don’t see a village?” you say as you leaned forward to squint through the windshield. “This is where we stop. I don’t go any further.” the man turned to look at you with stern eyes. After the silence in the air dropped, he nearly rushed you out of his van. You didn’t have much with you besides your localized clothing and an inconspicuous bag full of the gear you’d need. Once you stepped out, he rolls down the window to give you a word of advice, “The village is up ahead,” then the tires of the van squealed as he peeled out backward, and you were left in the cold alone.

“Well, onward we go--,” you sigh and take off on foot toward the castle and most likely the village as well. The sun began to tuck itself behind the pointed white peaks just as you arrived at a large wooden gate with two odd symbols decorating it. Behind this barrier is where your journey would begin. Where your mission that the BSAA tasked you with would begin.

✧.*

Your boss tossed two photographs onto the table that was in front of you. Your fingers spread the images apart as you inspect what they were. One photo was of a blonde woman who was dressed in a type of ceremonial garb and the other was of Chris Redfield. “You haven’t been in the field in quite sometime, [Y/N].” the man that stood before you took a seat in the chair across the way. “Locals in a remote European village refer to this woman as a religious icon. Known to them as Mother Miranda,” his index finger pointed to the woman, “She has some connections to the mold, similar - if not exact to the type from the Dulvey Incident.” He stops for a moment before he tapped the image of Chris, “Redfield took control over the Hound Wolf Squad without permission and we believe he might be investigating Miranda and the mold. And we’re aware of your … association with one another.”

Your eyebrows knit with a head shake and you pushed the photographs away, “What do you want with me?” He leaned forward and laced his fingers together, “We want you to infiltrate Miranda’s village and collect as much information as possible until we pull you out.” That’s it? Sounds simple. “What about Chris?” Your boss sighed heavily, “This is where it might be a little more difficult. We don’t know where he or his team are. Due to your relationship, we believe he will contact you.” The message was clear and you were not interested in what he had to say about Chris any longer. “If he contacts you in anyway, I think you’ll know what to do...”

Little did your employer know that you’ve been contacted by him several times now. “Of course,” you lie. “But back to the main objective, [Y/N], do you accept this mission in Europe?” He was right, it had been quite sometime since you’ve been apart of any missions or even going to a work meeting. Spying and collecting information seemed tame compared to other things that you’ve done before. “Yeah,” you gave a nod and your eyes met his, “Yeah, I accept.”

✧.* LATER ON ---

“You did what?!” Chris raised his voice on the other end of the phone. “It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, Chris.” He scoffed, obviously not happy at your decision. “It is more than what you realize, [Y/N]. You’re being reckless.” this offended you, “Oh, sorry that I can’t punch a giant rock like it’s nothing, Chris. You’re underestimating me.” The man sighed, “I-I didn’t mean it like that. But if it involves Miranda and the mold. It’s big -- bigger than me and bigger than you.” You listened to him as you paced around your bedroom and contemplated his reasoning.

“I already said I’d do it. There’s no going back on it, you know that.” you quickly changed the subject, you didn’t want to continue with the argument, “They want me to let them know if you ever contact me,” Chris let out a chuckle, “You didn’t compromise me, did you?” You hummed, “Of course I did. I folded immediately, duh.” your response was heavy with your typical sarcasm.

There was silence before you spoke again, “I miss you,” and Chris responded that he missed you too. You sat down on the edge of your bed and looked over to the spot that had been empty for several months now while you listened to him breathe on the phone. “I really want to see you. Let’s spend a night together before I go to Europe.” He sighed, “You know we can’t do that right now.” Redfield was right and you dropped the subject.

“I’ll see you soon, I promise. Give me a call on the phone you have now before you’re on the plane, I’ll have the same one with me. I love you.” His goodbye made you smile, “I love you too, Chris.” The phone air rang dead but you didn’t hang up right away as you pictured what Chris was possibly doing. Your heart ached since the last time the two had seen each other, you missed the now middle aged man dearly. But you knew that his job was important to him and although he didn’t reveal his complete reasoning... he promised he eventually would.

✧.*

You pushed the gates open with some effort and stumbled upon a mostly empty village. The silence was unsettling and as you walked down the dirt path, you could sense someone was watching from somewhere within the pitch black buildings. Sounds of snarling and inhuman cries echoed from all directions. You turned in a circle several times as the horrifying noises closed in.

[sigynappreciation]

Sigyn Meta: Who is Sigyn?

A Norse Goddess who is known for being the wife of the Trickster, Loki, and holding the bowl to protect him from the snake’s venom. 

But besides that, Who is Sigyn? What does she mean to others? 

Journey with me as we explore who she is -- not only in the mythologies, but in other forms like the Marvel Comics, Worship and through fans.

#JusticeforSigyn

Sigyn’s Origins (Mythology):

Sadly, not many stories that have Sigyn in them have survived till today. She is only attested in the following works: Poetic Edda & Prose Edda. 

In the poem, Lokasenna, the most famous of poem’s with the couple, it talks of how Loki has been bound by the gods with the guts of his son, Nari, and how his son, Vari, has been turned into a wolf. The Goddess Skadi fastens a venomous snake over Loki’s face, from which venom drips. Sigyn, stated as Loki’s wife, stays by his side and holds a basin under and catches the venom so it won’t drip onto her husband, but when the basin grows full, she pulls it away to empty it, during which time venom drops onto Loki, causing him to wither so violently that earthquakes occur that shake the entire earth.

In the poem, Gylfaginning, Sigyn is introduced in Chapter 31 as being married to Loki and that they have a son by the name of “Narfi or Nari”. She is then mentioned again in Chapter 50 where events are described differently than in Lokasenna; Vali, described as a son of Loki only, is changed into a wolf by the gods and rips apart his brother, “Narfi or Nari.” The guts of Nari are then used to tie Loki to three stones, after which the guts turn to iron, and Skadi places a snake above Loki. Sigyn of course catches the venom in a bowl. This process is repeated until he breaks free, setting Ragnarok into motion.

In the poem, Skáldskaparmál, Sigyn is introduced as a goddess, an Æsir, where the gods are holding a feast for their visitors and in kennings for Loki: “husband of Sigyn” and “cargo [Loki] of incantation-fetter’s [Sigyn’s] arms.” 

Sigyn’s name means “Victorious-Girlfriend” in Old Norse. 

Sigyn may appear on the Gosforth Cross and has been the subject of an amount of theory and cultural references.

She appears in the 9th century skaldic poem Haustlöng from pagan times, written by the skald Þjóðólfr of Hvinir. Due to this early connection with Loki, Sigyn has been theorized as being a goddess dating back to an older form of Germanic paganism.

Sigyn in Worship/Honor: 

I’ll be speaking on this through my personal experience of working with Sigyn while also sharing some tid bits of basic info from others on this subject. I’m someone who works with Sigyn primarily, but sometimes gets help from Loki. 

A Lokean is someone who honors Loki as their primary deity ( or at least one of their primary deities.) Most are polytheists that respect a variety of worldviews and a wide variety of gods. FOR MORE ON THIS SUBJECT, VISIT THIS BLOG: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com

For those who work with Loki, you will also find yourself working with Sigyn. And sometimes you don’t even need to work with Loki first in order to work with Sigyn (like me!)

Sigyn is usually a calming and motherly presence. Loki is protective over her, but they usually work in unison together to help. 

SMALL DEVOTIONAL ACTS TO SIGYN: 

Holding the Bowl: It is a reflective act of Sigyn holding the bowl to protect Loki from the snake’s venom. This is usually the major one. 

Helping to support mothers (especially single mothers)

Support single parents

Supporting Women’s Rights

Keep fighting through the hardships 

Wear earthy tones

Commitment in everything you do.

Help others, but remember that self-care is important too

More devotional acts

KENNINGS/HEITI FOR SIGYN:

Wife of Loki

Incantation-Fetter

Lady of Staying Power

Lady of Unyielding Gentleness

Lady of the Unconquerable Heart

Mother of Narvi and Vali

North Star

Victory Woman

Lady of Loyalty

Loki’s Treasure

Devoted Mother

Lady of Endurance

Goddess of Constancy

Goddess of the Heart

Goddess of Neglected Children

Goddess of Comfort

Healer to All

Mother to All

Beloved of Monsters

SIGYN’S VIRTUES:

Strength

Loyalty

Grace

Humility

Gentleness

Charity

Constancy

Love

Endurance

Patience

Simplicity

Mindfulness

Compassion

I’ll cover more on this subject soon in a separate post, but this is the basic. 

Sigyn in the Marvel Comics:

Sadly, Sigyn is not portrayed the best in the Marvel Comics of Thor, resulting in her being missing from the comics since 1996 and practically killed off (only being referenced to in flashbacks.) 

Loki comes across her and desires to have her. However, she is already engaged to an Asgardian named Theoric, who Loki has killed and ends up taking on the disguise of in order to take Sigyn for his own. On their wedding day once the vows are said and done, Sigyn accepts her duty as his wife, granting her the title Goddess of Fidelity by Odin. 

She doesn’t have much of an agency or personality besides being Loki’s faithful wife in this. 

Fans wish for her to make a comeback in the Comics and MCU with better characterization. Hence, much Fanfiction, Cosplay, Roleplay and Fanart has been made of others own interpretation’s of Sigyn and #JusticeforSigyn is shared around in hopes of this. 

LIST OF SIGYN COMIC APPEARANCES:

Thor Vol 1 #275 (First appearance, 1978)

Thor Vol 1 #276

Thor Vol 1 #277

Thor Vol 1 #278

Thor Vol 1 #301

Thor Vol 1 #302

Thor Vol 1 #303

Thor Vol 1 #307

Thor Annual Vol 1 (9)

Thor Vol 1 #313

Thor Vol 1 #321

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 (1)

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 2 (1)

Gamer’s Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 (1)

Thor Annual Vol 1 (14)

Thor Annual Vol 1 (19)

Thor Vol 1 #479

Thor Vol 1 #483

Thor Vol 1 #484 (1995)

Thor: The Legend Vol 1 (1) (1996, last appearance)

Avengers: Loki Unleashed #1 (2019, first & only modern day appearance since 90s. FLASHBACK ONLY)

LIST OF SIGYN MENTIONS IN COMICS:

Thor Annual Vol 1 #10 (1982)

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 #11 (1983)

Thor: Asgard’s Avenger Vol 1 #1 (2011)

Mighty Thor Vol 1 #12.1 (2012)

Loki Vol 3 #1 (2019 - referenced)

Sigyn and her impact with Fans:

Sigyn is still not that well known among others, but there is a small community of us fans who honor her through all forms she is displayed and her relationship with Loki. This is the reason this blog and @dailylogyn​ were created: to help unite fans and spread the word of Sigyn and her relationship with Loki through appreciation and education.

Fans also show their appreciation for Sigyn through Art forms like Fanfiction, Cosplay, Fanart & More! The cool thing is that she can be interpreted however you wish, but her love for Loki and her compassion is always her strong points. 

There is a tag #JusticeforSigyn in order to help give her the proper attention she deserves. MORE HERE. 

FANARTISTS:

I’m not going to post any of their art here in order to make others visit their blogs and give them the appropriate credit they deserve. 

Let’s support content creators! <3

@nanigram​/Nanihoo: This artist makes wonderful fanart of her own interpretation of Sigyn and her relationship with Loki (plus their children.) You can usually find most of it on Deviantart. 

@sigynart​: This artist makes lovely art of Tom Hiddelston’s Loki, but has recently come out with their own interpretation of Sigyn and has even started to draw Loki & Sigyn together. 

@dank-art​: This artist makes a lot of interesting twists to Sigyn and Loki either if it’s a modern look, an alternate universe or a certain aesthetic of the couple. They have a lot of amazing concept designs concerning Sigyn and Loki! 

COSPLAYERS:

@bubbleteycosplay​: She is known as the German Sigyn! This cosplayer has done a wide varieties of different versions/outfits of Sigyn. Besides here, you can usually find her on Instagram, Deviantart and other websites. She also helps inform others on Sigyn and her relationship with Loki.

In fact, HERE IS A LIST she has created pertaining to other Sigyn Cosplayers. I’ll list the others below though with links to their pages:

Vontrug (Instagram)

lady_laufeyson (Instagram)

Mizerious (Instagram)

Maryintothewoods (Instagram)

danni_darling (Instagram) 

I myself am planning to join these wonderful cosplayers too as I work to create my own Sigyn cosplay as well. :) They are all such an inspiration! 

CONCLUSION:

I could go on and on about the subject of Sigyn. She’s an amazing, caring and loving goddess who teaches us many helpful traits we need throughout life. Despite still not being that well known, she is greatly loved by this community -- and none other than Loki. 

Hopefully someday she will make a comeback in the Marvel world and get the proper characterization and love she deserves. Till then, us fans will continue to share the love, joy and appreciation we have for Sigyn and her relationship with Loki, welcoming anyone as Sigyn does with open arms and loving hearts. 

SOURCES:

Holding the Bowl: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com/post/102422224083/a-bowling-tutorial

Lokean Welcoming Community: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com

Small Devotional Acts to Sigyn: https://bramblevitch.wordpress.com/2020/06/23/small-devotional-acts-to-sigyn/

Sigyn on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigyn

Lokean Welcoming Community’s topics on Sigyn: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com/tagged/sigyn

Sigyn on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

Sigyn’s Shrine: Who is Sigyn?: http://www.northernpaganism.org/shrines/sigyn/sigyn/who-is-sigyn.html

Sigyn - Norse Mythology for Smart People: https://norse-mythology.org/sigyn/

[issaxcharlie]

Owen hosts Couple tag

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader

Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!

This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖

The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.

The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.

Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.

He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.

“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.

“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."

She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.

“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”

They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.

“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.

"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.

"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.

“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”

“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”

The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.

“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."

She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”

Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”

“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.

“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”

“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”

“Man, defend my honor!”

“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.

“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”

“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”

Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."

"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.

“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.

“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”

His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.

“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”

“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”

“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.

“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.

“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.

“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.

“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”

“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.

“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”

“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.

“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”

“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.

She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.

“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.

"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.

“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”

She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”

Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.

“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”

“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”

“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.

“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”

“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.

“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”

For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."

Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.

Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.

“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner

[fawnandshadows]

After the Ceremony - Chapter 2

Hey guys! I was completely overwhelmed by the response I received on the first chapter of After the Ceremony, and I am so excited to share this with you guys. You can also find it on AO3. This chapter is slightly nsfw.

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian's Mating Ceremony.

Words: 2,554

Rating: M

Glorious. Splendid. Sublime.

There wasn’t a single word that could describe what it felt like to be kissed by Azriel. His rough hands, one on her heart and the other of her cheek, and soft lips put her on sensory overload. All she could feel was him. All she could think about was him.

Elain couldn’t stop herself as her tongue ran over the seam of his lips, tentatively asking a question, and she almost groaned in relief at his answer. His tongue slid against her in a sinfully good way, and she couldn’t help but notice that he tasted of champagne and vanilla.

With a giggle Elain pulled away. Her forehead was pressed against his, and she delighted in the way his warm breath drifted across her face. She took another moment to collect herself before asking, “What were you doing out of bed?”

Azriel raised an eyebrow and said, “You stopped kissing me to ask me that?”

“I think you were out of bed to eat the leftover cake before anyone else could,” Elain teased, and she got all the confirmation she needed from the blush that bloomed on his cheeks. “So, the shadowsinger has a sweet tooth? I could taste it on you,” Elain whispered that last part, and it seemed her tongue, working on its own accord, traced the length of his bottom lip. “Delicious.”

The shadowsinger groaned as the contact, and before he could think, his hands ran over her backside, lifted her up, and set her on the closest table.

“There is something else I’ve been dying to taste.” Azriel said in a haggard whisper as his hands started tracing up the length of her thigh. He put his head in the crook of her neck, his tongue darted out to the hollow of her collar bone, and the saltiness that coated his tongue caused his pants to tighten even more. He thanked the Mother for loose pajamas. Elain became pliant in his arms, and his hands found themselves tangled in her hair. He pulled her hair, a little harder than he meant to, just to move her hair back, but the sound that escaped her mouth was enough to stop him. It was a sound that could only be described as pleasure. Unadulterated pleasure.

A thrill shot down Azriel’s spine. He never thought he’d be able to discover Elain’s secret pleasures. His pulse jumped at the knowledge that he, Azriel, was the one to find out what brought Elain bliss.

Azriel cleared his head just enough to ask, “Are you sure? Once we do this there is no going back.”

“I don’t want to go back.” Elain responded in a voice so vulnerable it almost shattered his heart. He looked into her eyes, expected to see them hazed with lust, but they were startlingly clear. Those warm brown eyes held something delicate, something that Azriel never expected to see in eyes turned his way, something that looked remarkably similar to love.

Before she could change her mind, because there was a small piece of him that worried she would, his lips captured hers again. Az didn’t bother to hide the urgency in his kiss, he knew she deserved romance; he knew she deserved better than the gnashing of teeth in the dead of night while her mate slept somewhere in the house, but this was all he could give her right now. Maybe the next time he could be slow and delicate, but his blood was burning too hot and his heart was pounding too loudly to stop now.

He pulled away from her, his scarred hand pushed her down on the table, which his shadows cleared at some point, and sank to his knees in front of her.

The smell of her arousal was closer than ever before, and strong enough to cause his eyes to roll back into his head. He gripped her nightgown and pushed it up with so much force that if he hadn’t been so drunk off her arousal, then he would have heard the sound of cotton tearing. Azriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of jasmine, honey, and sweat overwhelmed him. He pushed his head forward, unable to control himself, his tooth caught on her -

His shadows swarmed him. They pulled him away, and were buzzing in his ear at an alarming rate. Her scream of pleasure, or maybe it was frustration, was muffled by a shadow gently pressing against her mouth - an image that Azriel tucked away in his mind. After a moment to catch his breath Azriel could finally make out what the shadows were saying.

The High Lady is awake.

Distantly, Azriel heard footsteps coming down the staircase, growing closer. Elain looked up at him, her brown eyes warm and slightly confused, so Azriel did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed her around the waist, noting how perfectly the curve of her hips fit into his hands, pulled her to him and walked through the shadows. The shadowsinger bit his lip to stop the groan that threatened to spill out of him as Elain wrapped her legs around his hips, wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, and clung to him like the scrap of her nightgown was clinging to her.

Azriel picked the only place he could think of to shadow walk to - his bedroom. He gently placed Elain down on the bed and took a step back.

Elain was sitting on his bed, in a ripped nightgown, while his shadows glided over her skin as if they wanted to caress her just as badly as he did. The small fire was burning just enough that he could make out the delicate features that graced her face - Azriel was going to have to thank whichever twin wraith had the forethought to light a fire for him in the middle of August.

“What happened? Did we shadow walk again?” Elain rasped, her breathing uneven and shallow, and Azriel used all of his willpower not to stare at her chest which was heaving up and down. The fire light was just strong enough to make out the sheen of sweat that coated her body. Apparently, being spymaster for hundreds of years didn’t grant him enough willpower not to stare at her chest. At the nod of his head Elain said, “It was nicer this time. Less stabbing.”

Azriel felt his lips twitch at her attempt to lighten the mood. He knew she was referring to the war against Hybern where she walked through his shadows to change the tide of the war.

“My shadows warned me that someone was coming. Otherwise I wouldn’t have stopped.” Azriel said in a voice that was steadier than he felt.

“Oh, good,” Elain breathed and Azriel felt his heart stop in his chest. “This gives us time to talk.”

Elain looked delectable sitting on his bed. Her rumpled appearance was so at odds with how she normally looked, and Azriel was loving every second of it.

“Talk?” Azriel repeated, hopefully his voice was as unreadable as he wanted it to be. He still had the taste of her on his tongue, on his lips, and she wanted to talk? Fear started gnawing at his insides.

“Yes, talk about whatever this forbidden nonsense is and why you’ve been staying away from me. And why someone else was wearing my necklace… I guess I shouldn’t really call it my necklace anymore,” Elain said with downcast eyes that were focused on her hands, which were clasped on her lap. “I’m afraid I’m more than a little confused. And I would like no misunderstandings before we…” Her voice trailed off. She caught her bottom lips between her teeth and Azriel wanted to run his thumb across it, and cast all worries from her mind.

Azriel looked down at her, at the little fawn that somehow found herself in death’s bed, and cupped her face. He did exactly what he wanted to for once in his life, and ran his thumb across her soft lip which was red and plump from their kissing. Satisfaction started to grow in his chest as the knowledge that he was the one responsible for her disheveled appearance; her swollen lips, mused hair, and torn nightgown. The wings jerked, but Az managed to suppress the urge to preen and peacock.

The brown eyes that looked up at him were conflicted. He wanted to remove the hesitation that churned in her eyes and replace it with trust, and maybe something else. The openness on her face, her emotions which she was learning to control so well were on full display, caused his heart to flutter.

“What do you want to know first?” He asked.

Azriel dropped his hands and crossed them over his chest, and then dropped them again. What the hell was a man supposed to do with his hands? All his hands wanted to do were touch every inch of her skin, tangle in her hair, and explore her body. He fought the urge to hide them behind his back - Elain had never once looked at them in disgust, and he wasn’t going to do her the discourtesy of acting like she had. Even Rysand or Cassian would stare at his hands sometimes, but never Elain. She simply accepted him.

“The necklace?” Elain asked quietly.

“I picked it out for you, as you know,” Azriel responded and continued at the nod of her head. “After I had a conversation with Rhysand I found myself at the library for some reason, and while I was there I saw Gwyn training. We talked briefly, and when I ran into Clotho I asked her to give the necklace to Gwyn. I don’t know why I did it, but I did. I realize that’s not the most… satisfying answer.”

A frown appeared between her delicate eyebrows and Azriel wanted to kiss it away.

“Do you ever wear the earplugs I gave you?”

The shadowsinger blinked at the question before responding, “Yes, sometimes when Nesta and Cassian are louder than normal. They like to travel around and I never know when I’m going to hear them, so I have your gift on me at all times.”

“Good,” Elain said with a nod. She looked a little more certain of herself. “I think you should wear them when you sleep, just so you don’t accidentally hear something you don’t want to.”

“I will.” Azriel said with a soft smile on his lips. There wasn’t much he could do for her, but he could grant that one request, no matter how small it might be.

“Why did you not kiss me? That night of the solstice I thought you wanted to kiss me. Was I wrong?” Elain nervously gnawed at her lip, but her voice was steadier than it was before.

“I wanted to kiss you,” Azriel said after taking a deep breath. His eyes watched how her face moved, the subtle changes that occurred - how her teeth released her lip, how her brow relaxed just a bit, and how her eyes warmed as they drifted to meet his. “I would have kissed you. I would have done more than kiss you, but Rhysand interrupted. He saw us, and he didn’t like it, especially with Lucien in the house. With the tentative peace in Prythian and then the potential with whatever the hell might happen with Koschei, Rhys doesn’t want to leave Prythian vulnerable.”

“And he thinks that we - you and I- would make Prythian vulnerable?” Elain asked.

Az could see the thought toiling inside of her head, and he would have given anything to be able to read her mind right now. A small, hesitant smile appeared on her lips. “I had no idea we were so important. While, obviously I know you’re important, but I didn’t realize the future of Prythian rested on whom I… had feelings for.”

The blush that bloomed against her cheeks was precious. A tug pulled at his heart when he saw it, and Az wanted to brush his lips against her cheeks so he could feel how warm she was.

“Lucien as your mate,” The words felt sour in his mouth and curdled his stomach. The thought of someone else having any type of claim on her set Azriel on edge in a way that he really didn’t want to analyze. “Would be able to claim the Blood Duel. An Autumn Court tradition that usually ends in death, however, it would not have ended in mine. I wouldn’t let it.” Azriel waited for a moment before he continued, his voice dropping, “I would kill for you.”

His hands tighten into fists. Az hated what he would do for her because he would do anything for her, and it almost frightened him.

A small hand reached out and wrapped around his fist.

Azriel looked down and saw Elains flawless hand on his scarred one. His heart beat a little too frantically for someone who was more than willing to kill for the female in front of him. Az had been in countless battles, had tortured more people than he could remember, and yet this small gesture threatened to undo him.

“You don’t scare me,” Elain said with a gentle smile. She had moved so that she was kneeling on the bed, her head just barely reaching his shoulders.“I would do anything for you too. I already killed once, for Nesta and Feyre, and I would do it for you if I had to. However, I think we could figure out a way for us to be together that doesn’t result in Lucien's death, or anyone’s death for that matter. That is - if you want to be together.”

His rough hand reached up and brushed away the golden hair that had fallen in her face. There was something buried so deeply in him, something so ingrained and entrenched, that he couldn’t believe the words coming out of Elains mouth.

“Are you sure?” Az whispered.

All the shadowsinger saw was an excited nod before Elain launched herself at him. Her lips missed their mark and landed sloppily on his cheeks. Azriel had just enough sense to catch her, but as soon as she was in his arms she was gone.

Elain backed away slowly, her arm outstretched as if to keep him away. A smile of pure joy graced her lips, her tongue wet her lips before saying, “Not yet. If I stay then I know we’ll do what we both want to do. I want to be free when we are together for the first time; I don’t want anyone else’s claim on me, and I want to make sure that there isn’t a single doubt in that beautiful head of yours about who holds my heart. I don’t know when it will happen, or how, but I know it will be perfect because it will be us.”

She had backed her way to the door and slipped out after saying a quick goodbye.

Azriel wasn’t sure how long he stayed there staring at the door with a goofy grin on his face, but at some point he managed to crawl into bed and drift off to sleep with her scent surrounding him.

[angelicmichael]

renegade

Andy Dolan x reader

Summary: After another night where Hedwig abandons Andy; reader is left with no other choice but to try and help console him the best she can.

Words: 3.6k+

Warnings: vague mentions of drugs and being intoxicated, some jealous! reader, lotsss of angst, brief fluff, mainly hurt/comfort fic tbh hehe, major Hedwig slander oops, maybe a bit of unhealthy relationships (??), slowburn, some conflict/arguing 

A\N: hey y’all, hope u enjoy this hehe. I was mostly going for a angst and fluff vibe when I wrote this but it just turned into hurt/comfort so.. hopefully it’s still enjoyable !! :) this takes place sometime in episode three probably lol. ALSO fic is named after the song Taylor swift has recently been featured in 👉🏻👈🏻

The town, Eden; regardless of its beauty was a force to be reckoned with.

Being practically forced to live in a town that was so.. particular was never something you envisioned for your future in the past, but now you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else; even given the choice.

After all how could you exactly complain?

If you were to ask any person- (or any sane person that didn’t know of Eden that well) they would say that living here would sound like complete fucking heaven. A small coastal town, a tight knit community that was overly abundant with beautiful people and drugs seemed beyond euphoric.. and it was. Atleast for the first week or two.

Looking back; you were purely fucking naïve, and far too much of a optimist to assume shit wouldn’t crash or burn eventually.

Your first red flag was Hedwig.

She was one of the first people you met, and you two quickly hit it off and became close but.. things never exactly felt right with her, per say. Maybe it was because of how guarded she was, or because of the drugs she dealt.. it was hard to tell. However; Hedwig was completely fucking harmless compared to the man she introduced you too.

Andy Dolan.

Just like everyone in Eden; he was drop dead gorgeous but.. oddly hostile. At first you only saw him at parties, ones that you tried your best to avoid him at since you knew he had a notorious temper but, Hedwig being the great friend she is introduced you to him.. and that’s all it took.

You two quickly hit it off after that night (mostly because you were tired of Hedwig being your only friend and branching out never hurt anyone.. right?). Your attraction towards each other at first was strictly platonic, that was clear in how he treated you and how careful you were around him. It was almost stupid to try and not think about how pretty he was but letting your gaze linger on him for even more than two seconds felt erroneous.

You saw almost daily (or atleast every other day) how quick he was to anger and how cold he was to nearly everyone he met.. The only exception at this point was you and Hedwig but your sure if you were to even show a sign that you had romantic interest in him, he would drop you without a second thought. That thought alone was beyond fucking torturous but it wasn’t enough to stop you from daydreaming about how soft his hair or lips probably were. Ones that you doubt you would ever get the pleasure of touching but- atleast it was a nice distraction from how fucking weird Eden truly was.

Sure, it was beyond beautiful and the weather was fairly nice most days but that didn’t make up for peoples attitudes; and you weren’t referring to Andy’s. It wasn’t hard to tell that people were strangely secretive and cliquey, which only really left you with Hedwig and Andy for your friends. No matter how pretty she was, Hedwig was really only surface level friendly so you never particularly trusted her. That only left Andy (which wasn’t exactly any better when it came to being friendly but you knew he cherished your company, which was way more you could say about Hedwig).

However; it didn’t take too long for you and Andy to form a routine. Every weekend he would throw a party and you would stay with him after. The first time it happened, it was purely because you were far too fucked up to go anywhere else (which perhaps is also why Andy finally started being nice to you..) but after that, it was a question you never had the heart to say no too.

How could you? It’s not like he exactly had anyone else which made the possibility of saying no, close to impossible. Just because everyone else who lived in Eden were assholes didn’t mean you were going to be one, which is what lead you to your current predicament.

Five calls you had made that had all been unanswered is what currently lit up your phone screen, as well as your room. It was far past midnight and instead of sleeping like any other sane person would be doing - you were calling Andy or trying too anyway but he wasn’t fucking answering.. naturally.

You weren’t calling for any particular reason, but that wasn’t the point anymore. The fact that Andy wasn’t answering was a huge warning that something was wrong, after all it was a weekday and you knew he wasn’t sleeping or exactly busy.

Unless.. He was with Hedwig?

The thought automatically made your blood run hot under your skin. The feeling seething and utterly consuming until you quickly found yourself going out to your car. Doing the only thing that you knew would make your sudden paranoia go away.

As you drove through the roads that were completely vacant of any other cars and drove past houses and neighborhoods that also looked vacant of any life - you couldn’t help but to think why you even cared.

Andy never really showed interest in you, so what if Hedwig and Andy were actually doing anything?? Unless you caught them in the act, it’s not like either of them would admit to doing shit anyway but that didn’t stop you from still feeling irrationally angry and a bit betrayed.

You didn’t realize how tight you were gripping the steering wheel until you stopped the car and had to let go of it. Your fingers unnecessarily clenched and stiff to the point where they physically ached. Not to mention, you were shaking with the possibility that you could really find them here together, but now that you were actually here- you quickly realized that there was no other car here.

Odd.

You quickly (and quietly) stepped out of the car and paced up to Andy’s house. Not bothering to knock as you let yourself in, knowing that Andy wouldn’t necessarily mind that you did so.. well, you knew if he wasn’t with Hedwig anyway.

The only thing you heard were your footsteps as you took a few steps into the house. Looking cautiously for any signs of life.. any sounds or anything that could indicate anyone was in the house at all but you found nothing.

It took your eyes a minute to adjust to the near pitch darkness that omitted from the large windows that sat on the vast majority of the living room walls. The only light came dimly from the kitchen but even that was too sparse to truly allow you to see anything.

You slid your shoes off and left them by the door, not wanting your steps to allude to your presence before you could see him first and say something. Your steps far more quiet and easier to control now that you only had socks covering your feet.

You made it about halfway up the stairs, originally trying to make a beeline to Andy’s room but quickly freezing once you heard something.

It was shallow and soft but, with the contrast of pure stark silence it was nearly fucking deafening. It was a whimper at first, and it was coming from downstairs on the couch.

Your heart sank once you realized what exactly you were listening too. The first sniffle you heard nearly making you jump from how off guard you suddenly felt; that was the last thing you were expecting to hear..

You looked down from the staircase at the couch; making out a very dim outline of someone slumped over and sitting on the edge with their head in their hands. Their chest and back heaving from how deep they were crying..

You stood idle for a moment, not knowing whether to continue standing or to leave silently but you felt as if you didn’t exactly have a option. Even without asking or being able to necessarily see; you knew who it was but even knowing this- you knew getting him to talk was a good first step.

“Andy?”

Your voice automatically cut off his sobs - almost stopping instantaneously.

You saw his hands move down from his face and drop down to his lap, his head turning up to look at you. Your eyes finally adjusting to the near pitch black atmosphere.

The silence only permeated the room for about three seconds but that was nearly far too long to withstand. Knowing how unpredictable Andy was, you didn’t know if the words that were going to come out of his mouth were going to be kind or purely vile.

You started to speak fast without a second thought, the silence driving you to immediately apologize and try to fix the damage before Andy completely went off on you.

“I’m really sorry. I just got worried because you weren’t answering my calls and I wanted to make sure you were okay, but.. obviously your not,” You said. Swallowing harshly after realizing that Andy was still diligently listening and not cutting you off or telling you to leave.. That had to be a good sign, right? “What happened?” You pressed on.

“What do you think happened?” Andy answered quickly. His voice rough and rugged from sobbing, as well as probably from previously yelling.

You slowly walked down the stairs, choosing to not shy away from his sudden outburst of anger. You weren’t exactly certain which direction you would go in once you were finished descending.. but atleast you knew Andy wasn’t fucking Hedwig. Not right now at the very least.

“Was it Hedwig?” you blindly guessed. Wanting to affirm what you were so desperately hoping wasn’t true and that you could finally relax a bit. That’s if Andy wasn’t mad that you practically broke into his house.. but he didn’t seem to be. Not right now anyway.

You heard him softly laugh in response which made you smile for a second. You could tell by how he was previously crying and in the tone of his voice that he was still hurt. His laugh wasn’t genuine in the slightest; but it showed that he was done crying for the moment which was worth a smile.

“Why does it matter to you if it was her?”

“So it was,” you affirmed.

Your feet stepped off of the final step, and you found yourself approaching Andy. The choice came naturally. The closer you got to him the more apparent it was how broken he truly looked. He stopped crying but his eyes and cheeks were still glossy and wet with tears. His lips red and trembling; among looking entirely and utterly broken there was a hint of agitation present as well. You started to wonder if Hedwig truly did something or if Andy once again was blowing things out of proportion.

“Will you tell me what happened?” You asked cautiously. Your voice was soft, not wanting to unintentionally come off as too strong or hostile.

He studied you hesitantly and with a gleam of uncertainty in his eye - but nonetheless he patted the seat next to him on the couch he was sitting on. Silently urging you to sit next to him and letting you know that he would probably tell you what happened.

At first he remained quiet. Awkwardly avoiding what he knew you wanted to talk about but he still remained silent.. but his voice suddenly broke through. Making you jump at the unexpected sound that suddenly sounded so loud, even though in reality his voice was still low in tone.

“She left me.”

You stared at him numbly for a second, not feeling necessarily surprised at his words (After all, since when was Hedwig not a flight risk?) but instead feeling weirdly a bit frustrated and sad for Andy.

You knew exactly how he felt; it wasn’t like this was the first time this ever happened but hopefully it would be the last. Seeing Andy this sad and broken over someone who in reality, didn’t give two fucks about him was beyond heartbreaking. It hurt even worse for you to keep witnessing him coming back to her though.

Just when you finally opened your mouth to speak he cut you off.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s my fault and I’m such a fucking idiot-“

“Andy, stop!” You said a bit too loudly. You tried your best to hold eye contact with him when he finally turned to meet your gaze as he reluctantly looked at you. You fought the impulse to apologize for raising your voice but there was no need because you didn’t truly feel sorry. He needed to hear you out. “You need to stop blaming yourself. Hedwig’s actions aren’t your fault.. she’s like that with everyone, Andy. She’s always been-“

“I don’t give a fuck what she’s like with other people y/n! She should’ve acted differently with me, she was supposed to care about me and stay..” his words cut off with a deep inhale.

He was trying not to sob and failing miserably.

Andy quickly left the couch, taking a few steps away from you with his back turned. Trying to compose himself as you sat and.. felt entirely guilty.

Even though he had practically blown up at you; you weren’t leaving but you knew approaching him wasn’t the answer either, so you stayed seated at the couch. Hoping he would atleast sit back down next to you.

“I can’t control Hedwig or what she does, Andy but I know solely saying that I’m sorry isn’t enough either,” you started and then paused. The words you wanted to say next.. words that you knew were true but barely had the courage to say were heavy on your tongue. You knew this wasn’t exactly the time to even be thinking about how you truly felt for Andy but you couldn’t help it.

You wanted nothing more than for it to stop. His tears, his words and pleading with Hedwig, your feelings.. it wasn’t enough to just submit to it anymore and to be a witness to how you truly felt. If anything, it was slowly but surely driving you mad and you knew unless you atleast hinted at the fact that it was making you upset; Andy wouldn’t change his behavior.

You knew he payed for sex from Hedwig, it was the one thing that always kept her coming back no matter how he acted and well.. Even if his time was being bought, he liked the attention. He craved it.

It felt weird to admit to yourself that he was taking you for granted.. because he wasn’t really but, compared to how he treated Hedwig - you were definitely on the back burner. You didn’t blame him; why would he ever notice you when he could have someone like Hedwig?

You slowly looked back at Andy, noticing he was staring at you once again with glossy blue eyes which appeared dark in the lighting. A dark, almost midnight blue that would surely match the ocean waves that you could faintly hear from inside the house since the back door was open. He looked a bit annoyed but mostly intrigued. He was waiting for you to continue.

“But you deserve better, Andrew. You shouldn’t allow her to repeatedly do this to you because I know she knows how upset it makes you. She doesn’t care-“

“How do you know how Hedwig feels about me y/n?! You need to keep her name out of your fucking mouth. You don’t know her like I do,” Andy spoke roughly.

You stared at him blankly for a moment. Purely appalled that he was saying this to you in total seriousness; but you knew in reality that it was foolish to be surprised.. to not expect that he would talk to you like this eventually. After all; he blew up at everyone else, why wouldn’t he do the same to you?

You knew nothing made you inherently different and well.. this was just proving that assumption. Andy never viewed you differently from anyone else; that was now crystal clear.

Your hands started to gently tremble in your lap; and it didn’t take long for the rest of your body to follow suit. The sadness and self pity quickly washed away in what was quicker and more rapid than waves. Anger surged through your veins, forcing you to stand up suddenly. You could barely stand to make eye contact as you spoke, barely able to bear to witness how your words made him feel.

“Don’t talk to me like that. You don’t get to talk to me like that. If I didn’t randomly decide to come and check on you because I guess I’m the only one who actually gives a fuck about you, then you would’ve been alone again with no one to yell at. And maybe that would’ve been for the best,” You turned around on your heels. Walking fast and headed for the door, trying to quickly slip your shoes on before you heard Andy’s voice solemnly.

“Y/n wait.”

You stood still at first, weirdly feeling numb and waiting for the metaphorical shoe to drop. Andy’s voice was soft this time as he spoke, the roughness that was present earlier was long gone but.. you didn’t trust it.

You waited for him to catch his breath and to raise his voice and just say more words he would apologize for later; your throat tightened as you felt your body react almost instinctively. You slipped the other shoe you previously put on back off. Turning around just enough so that you could make eye contact, or attempt too with the horribly dim lighting.

“Yeah? Wait for what?”

Andy swallowed in response to your words. Almost bashfully looking down briefly to avoid saying anything or having to look at you any longer. You could see tears staining his cheeks, continuing to run down and nearly slid down his neck. He looked pathetic; and it would’ve almost been funny to see a grown man fully sob in front of you with no shame if it wasn’t your best friend and well.. the person you loved.

“Never mind. You were right; it’s probably best if you just go,” Andy’s voice cracked.

You wanted to believe that the best option for you was to turn around and leave but your judgment felt entirely skewed. Was it really the right thing to turn around and leave when he needed you? Probably not.

You knew if the roles were changed and you were the one who was upset that Andy would probably stay.. but that also depended on other circumstances as well, of course.

Stepping away from your shoes and the entrance of Andy’s house; you approached him. You tried to do so as quickly as possible before he could try to stop you or protest, but by the time he looked up you were barely a foot away.

You reached up, and with a shaky hand (that you hoped desperately he didn’t notice or wouldn’t swat away) you gently placed your fingertips on his cheek. Your thumb softly pressing against his skin, dragging your finger up as to wipe away his tears as the rest of your fingers lie under his jaw.

You tried to ignore how unsettled he looked at you doing this, and how he almost looked uncomfortable or as if he was on the brink of telling you off.. but he didn’t. He watched you diligently as you continued to brush away his tears.

“I’m sorry.. But I couldn’t stand to see you like that,” you said. Trying to give some rational explanation for your behavior even though, Andy didn’t look like he particularly cared why you were doing it. It was the fact you were doing it at all that seemed to have his interest piqued.

You tried to pull your hand back since his cheeks were dry, but he stopped you. His hand softly grabbed your wrist before his hand slid into yours.. your fingers slowly lacing together before you turned your gaze from your laced hands up to his eyes.

“Will you stay?” He asked. His voice was still rough and gravelly but this time, it was starting to sound a bit genuine.

You studied him for a second longer - your mouth dry but you knew the answer before you even spoke.

“Yeah. I’m not going to leave you Andy. I’m not Hedwig,” you spoke as if it were more of a promise rather than a statement.

You felt your stomach churn for a split second as you remembered how he scolded you earlier for talking down on Hedwig, but you smiled instead. The laughter you heard quickly subsiding your previous emotions.

“Okay,” He spoke almost uncertainly.

You could see the outline of him walking away before you felt him gently pull on your hand; making you follow him into the dark hallway which would eventually lead too, you could only guess, what would be his room.

Holding his hand like this almost felt weird but you couldn’t deny how almost.. right it felt too. Even perfect, you would dare say.

There was no way to guess what the rest of the night would entail but you didn’t exactly mind guessing; after all, how could you complain if you were to spend it with Andy?

You couldn’t. There was no way you could.

Whether it was platonic or not, spending the rest of the night right next to Andy, most likely in his clothes since you didn’t bother to bring any more of your own, sounded like heaven.

And since when did you ever complain about spending a night with someone that you had craved so bad?

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[kozumekenza]

house of memories :: four

:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.3k ::

the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.

tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, gunshot wound, kidnapping, implied drug use (marijuana)

a/n: posting an hour early :)

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Simple words, and predictable ones, but his heart still hurts. He knew this, he knew it was coming, he knew what you would say, he prepared himself for it, so why does it feel like his world is crashing down? He’s leaving you, but he guesses you’re leaving him first. The thought brings him comfort. He didn’t want to involve you in this, as much as it hurts watching you walk away. He should be thankful that you’re breaking his heart and not the other way around. He should be thankful that you’ll hopefully hold this against him for the rest of his life. He should be thankful that you will never know the cold steel of a gun, the glint of an attacker’s knife. 

You’re long gone by now, probably tucked into bed. He’s right where you left him, although he is no longer staring at the spot where you were standing. Now, he’s watching the moonlight on the water. The world looks cast in melancholy blue; a beautiful setting for his final night and a tearful goodbye.

He is thankful for this last chance to see you; to memorize your features and commit them all to memory. He is thankful for the tears on his face, as he will not be allowed to show them in the future. He is thankful for all the emotions that he is currently feeling; he savors them, knowing that when he wakes up tomorrow, they will be long gone; suppressed forever. 

---

You’re up and running before you even have the chance to fully grasp the situation at hand. There’s blood, so much blood; Miwa’s calling to you, but you can’t hear her. There’s only the pounding of your heart in your ears and the four years worth of schooling you’ve received; racking your brain for any and all useful information. 

“I need all the medical supplies you have; a first aid kit, bandages, forceps, scissors.” You pray that Miwa is listening, that your voice is projecting. “I know we probably can’t take him to the hospital, but if you have a doctor you normally see for stuff like this, call them.”

You press your hands to the wound. From what you can tell, it’s a bullet wound towards the bottom left of Kageyama’s chest. His heart is still beating and his breathing is slow, but steady, and you allow yourself a moment to be thankful that his lung hasn't collapsed. You focus on your next steps: stopping the bleeding, fully assessing the severity of the wound, and stabilizing Kageyama somewhere that isn’t the foyer’s floor. 

Miwa drops down next to you with what you hope are sterile rags. “I called our doctor, she’ll be here soon.” She unwraps the plastic covering and hands you the rags, and you press them to Kageyama’s chest. “If we can just stop the bleeding, he’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but shiver at the thought that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. 

---

Kageyama Tobio is used to being shot at, but the bullets rarely meet their mark. Unfortunately, due to his own stupidity, this one does. 

He curses as he runs to his car and jams the keys into the ignition. The fleeting thought that the blood will be a pain to get out of the seats crosses his mind, but he shakes his head and it’s gone. His only goal now is to get back to the penthouse. Miwa will know what to do. 

When he stumbles in, feeling faint, his exhausted brain short-circuits at the sight of you. He falls to the floor as his vision blurs, feeling slightly thankful that if he dies tonight, at least the last thing he saw was you.

---

He knows he’s dreaming, that he’s drifting in and out of consciousness. He dreams of his childhood spent by your side, he dreams of your final goodbye. Even when he thinks he’s awake, he knows he must be dreaming, because you’re here, holding his hand and sitting by his side. He tries to reach out, to brush the tears off of your cheeks, but he can’t. He feels as if he’s failed you again.

---

The doctor is nice, a woman in her late twenties named Kiyoko. She performs her duties clinically, allowing you to help where you can and reassuring Miwa that everything will be fine. When the bullet is finally removed and Kageyama is stitched up, you collapse into a chair next to his bed.

You watch him carefully as Miwa flits around the penthouse, cleaning up and moving around Kageyama’s appointments for the next few weeks to allow him time to recover. You hold his hand in your own and rest your head on the side of the bed.

You were terrified tonight, you’ll admit it. You aren’t quite sure how you kept your cool and focused on the task at hand. You’re thankful that he is still breathing, that his heart is still beating. 

If you hadn’t walked away, would this be the norm for you? Would you be accustomed to Kageyama coming home bleeding and half-dead? You don’t know how you would cope in a situation like that, unsure if Kageyama would come home in one piece or even come home at all. The thought terrifies you; knowing that for these past four years, there were times where he was injured and you had no clue, and that he will most likely continue to get hurt in the future.

Is it better or worse to be here for it, to be aware? Is it better to know and be there for him while enduring the pain of it all, or is it better to be blissfully unaware, back to your normal life where you know his job is a risk, but you aren’t involved?

---

The man is thrilled at all of the information contained in a tiny computer file. Better than he ever could have imagined; giving him the ability to hurt his enemy is the worst possible way - through the people he cares about. 

It’s a low blow, even in this world, but what can he do? He’s run out of options. His enemy’s reign over Tokyo has encroached too far into his own territory, and has been occurring for far too long. 

You’re an easy target; far better than attempting anything with his sister. She has the knowledge and power of the underworld to wield against him, but you, you, are perfect. No skills with a weapon, no comprehension of how things work in this world. 

An innocent, perfect girl for him to corrupt. 

He grins at the thought. 

---

When Kageyama’s eyes finally open in the early hours of the morning, you almost burst into tears. You knew that he was physically fine; the wound would hurt, but was stitched and bandaged and fixed. You didn’t know how it would take a toll on the rest of his body. Some people suffer traumatic injuries and don’t wake up for days, months, years, ever. 

You grin as Kageyama slowly opens his eyes, assessing the room around him. 

“Y/n?” His voice is weak, but he’s awake. Alive. 

“Yeah?” You’re still holding his hand, leaning on your arm as you reach for his forehead to check his body temperature.

“You’re here.”

He’s clearly still a little out of it, and you can tell that his brain is trying to piece together the picture of you before him. You laugh a little before you answer, “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”

His face is blank and he’s completely impassive when he says, “Not here.”

Miwa walks in to you laughing at Kageyama, who clearly does not understand why you’re laughing at him. She rushes over to him when she sees that he’s awake, gently hugging him.

“Tobio, thank god you’re alright. I was so fucking worried about you, you little shit.” She slaps his shoulder lightly, causing him to wince. 

You step away to give them some privacy, heading out to get some water and pain meds from the kitchen, but as you cross the threshold of the bedroom, Kageyama speaks up. “Y/n, are you leaving?”

The ache in his voice is obvious, and it sends a pang to your heart. “I’m just going to get some water and medication for you.”

He’s smiling a little when he turns back to Miwa. “Okay, good.”

---

The next few weeks are fine, generally speaking. You spend the majority of your time at Kageyama’s penthouse, watching over his recovery and hanging out with Miwa. Hana becomes a bit suspicious when she notices you’re away from home more than you’re there, but you simply say that you met an old friend at the club that night and you’ve been hanging out with them. It’s not necessarily a lie, and she buys it regardless; she’s so busy with Ushijima and school that you doubt she really notices how much you’re missing anyway. 

Most days, Miwa or Kageyama’s driver picks you up from the university in the afternoon, and you spend the rest of your evening in the penthouse. Sometimes, you sit by Kageyama’s bed and do homework while he rests, which most of the time ends up being a fight to get him to stay in bed while he insists he’s well enough to work. Other days, mostly when Kageyama is too tired to put up much of a fight, you hang out with Miwa, watching movies or cooking dinner together. 

It surprises you, just how easily you fit into their lives. Miwa says so as well, telling you that it has to be fate; there’s no way that someone could adjust to their lifestyle as quickly and as well as you do. You spend a lot of time thinking; you don’t mind being with them, in fact, you cherish your time at the penthouse. Kageyama’s job doesn’t phase you as much anymore. You don’t think about it when you spend time with him or Miwa, instead, you think about how appreciative you are for their roles in your life. 

Most recently, you’ve started helping Miwa with a task she deems “Mission: Impossible”. Apparently, Kageyama is disastrous when it comes to organization, so she’s taking the opportunity of him being bedridden to organize his office and the rest of the house. You don’t bat an eye when you and Miwa categorize what she refers to as the “weapons closet” or even when you come across files of all the hits that Kageyama has ever put out. The only thing that even makes you pause is when you come across Kageyama’s secret stash of marijuana.

“Really?” You hold the plastic bag up in one hand, your other hand on your hip. “Blunts?”

Kageyama just groans, sitting up. “If you and Miwa weren’t going through all my shit, you never would’ve found it.”

“Your shit is a mess! When was the last time you organized anything in this house?”

Kageyama brings his hand up, scratching the back of his hand. “Uh, never?”

“I can’t believe you.” You collapse onto the chair next to his bed, tossing the bag to him. “Now where’s the lighter?”

---

When Kageyama is finally cleared by Kiyoko to go back to work, you think that you won’t be seeing him and Miwa as often. You assume that they’ll be busy with whatever it is they do normally, so it comes as a surprise when you see Kageyama waiting for you after your last class. 

He’s leaning on a black McLaren Artura, turned away from you as he talks on the phone. You stop on the steps of your lab building, pausing to look at him while he’s not paying attention. After seeing him in sweats and t-shirts with messy hair for weeks while he recovered, it shocks you to see him in formal attire again. The late fall chill embraces you as you survey the black jeans and dark jacket, the wind-whipped hair and gold chain peeking out from beneath his collar. It’s times like these when your breath fully leaves you at how attractive Kageyama is. He’s receiving many stares, whether it’s from the boys checking out his car or the girls checking out him. He remains oblivious as always, talking pointedly into the phone until he spots you. 

He hangs up and opens the Artura’s door for you when you approach. You can feel the whispers surrounding you, but you ignore them in favor of sticking your chilling fingers in front of the car’s heat vent. Kageyama starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.

“I’m surprised to see you today. I thought you would’ve been busy on your first day back.”

He shrugs, giving a noncommittal hum. “It was mostly boring shit, meetings and such. I was completely over it by noon, so Miwa took over the last few for me.”

“You’re done already?” It’s only four in the afternoon, and you know he normally works much, much later than that.

“Done for now. I’ll go into the club later tonight to check on a few things, but that’s at least interesting.”

“Hm.” Looking out the window, you notice that you’re not heading towards the penthouse. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you out.”

You choke on air; as someone with Kageyama’s career, this could mean one of two things. “O-on a date?”

“Yeah,” he glances at you, “what else would that mean?”

“You don’t want to know what I was thinking.”

“Damn, y/n, I’m not going to kill you.” The wry smile on his face warns you of his upcoming words. “That would get blood on my seats.”

“Haha.” You roll your eyes and punch him lightly on the shoulder. “But really, you’re taking me out on a date? You didn’t even ask.”

“Well it’s more of a ‘thank you for nursing me back from the dead and helping Miwa’ date, but it can also be a real date, if you want that.”

The slight nervousness in his voice makes you grin. Only Kageyama could shoot someone in cold blood and be afraid to ask a girl out. “Okay.”

You watch as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile on his face. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

taglist: @lilith412426​ @itoshibaby​ @wallywaffle​ 

[justcallmenikki7]

BTS Reaction To: Your Son Telling Them That A Newbie Is Flirting with You

Mafia!Au Hyung Line

Summary: having a child is a blessing, especially when it comes to someone flirting with you and them telling your husband, something that your husband loves.

Warnings: mafia au, mentions of assault, sadistic hoseok, fluff, protective bts, yoongi being insecure, angst.

Request: Hi ! Is your request open ? If it is open can I ask a bts mafia reaction of the boys children telling them that a newbie in their gang is flirting w their s/o and they confront the newbie ..? Angst w fluff !! By the way I really loooooooove your writings !! I look forward to your updates everytime !!

W.C.: 1.9k

Notes: I had to make this into two separate posts since it was becoming too long! Hopefully sometime this week I can get the maknae lines up! Plus, I got carried away with Hoseok’s because daaaamn, he is such a sin.

Maknae Line’s Part

Jin:

Breathing heavily, Jin pushed the metal bar up, trying to control the shakiness in his arms.

“Come on, Hyung!” Jungkook, Seokjin’s motivator when working out, “You got this!”

Feeling his arms about to give out, he quickly sat the weight down on the holder, releasing a quick breath. “I think we went too fast on upping the weight.” Seokjin spoke honestly, the new weight being a big challenge for him. Even though he did not need to add muscle, Seokjin wanted to gain some more since he saw that he was losing some from not working out and being out in the field as much ever since he had Braxton with you.

“Probably, but we need to get you back in shape since there has been threats coming from our oh dearest, rival once again. We can’t have an old man running our gang,” Jungkook teased, but also being serious at the same time.

Being out of shape during a time of possible war is a no-go.

“Papa!” Braxton yelled, gaining the two’s attention.

Smiling brightly, Seokjin hopped off of the bench to catch his son in his arms. “Hey buddy, what are you doing out of bed. Aren’t you supposed to be napping?” Seokjin questioned, holding his five-year-old son in his arms.

“Yes! But! Remember Jay-Jay?” Braxton asked, referring to the newbie.

Furrowing his eyebrows together, “yes, why? Is he doing something wrong?”

“No! I mean, yes. He’s getting close to mommy…” He trailed off, remembering how close the newbie was getting to his mom.

It was like he became a whole new person. Standing up straight, shoulders pushed back, Seokjin handed Braxton to a shocked Jungkook before walking away. It did not take Seokjin long to locate you, knowing that in the afternoon you liked baking. Seeing that Jackson, the newbie keeping you company by being just a little too close – Seokjin could sense that you were not comfortable with the closeness, he cleared his throat. Jackson jumped from the new visitor, and you dropped your tense shoulders, the knowledge of your husband here to rescue you.

“I am going to give you three seconds to explain why you are bothering my wife, or else I’ll shoot you right on the spot.”

Jackson did not waste a single second to start explaining himself, causing Seokjin to smirk. The one thing he could think about awesome it is to have a son that will be a little spy for him.

Yoongi:

“Papa?” A tiny voice called out, scaring Yoongi from his work.

Looking up, he was met with his daughter who was dressed in her night gown, hair tangled up from sleep and eyes barely opened. In her arms, she was holding her teddy bear close to her chest.

“Baby, what are you doing up?” Yoongi cooed, pushing his chair back so he could get up and pick his daughter up.

“I had nightmare,” Chloe spoke, voice still croaky with sleep. “Tyler took mommy away from you.”

The information shocked Yoongi, both primal and worry taking over his body. Primal since you are his and he is yours, the ring on your finger making it a clear picture. But also, the love you two have for one another. Worry being that his insecurities are taking over, insecurities that he has had since you two got together at seventeen years old. The thought of someone taking you and being better for you always has haunted him, even with your constant kisses, reassurances, and reminders on how much you love him, he still feels insecure.

Clearing his throat, trying to stay composed in front his daughter being hard. “Why would you say that sweetie? Mommy will never leave us.”

“Well, Tyler is always talking and being kind to mommy, and he sometimes touches her like you do…” Hearing that someone is trying to woo you in has Yoongi’s blood boiling. Taking a deep breath, “but Mommy always says ‘Stob it!’ and he does, but he doesn’t for long cause he’ll continue doing it again. And I can tell mommy doesn’t wike it.”

Knowing that you are standing your ground has Yoongi feeling relief flowing through his body. It is not that he does not trust you, he trusts you with his life, it is just the insecurities talking and he is trying to push those away. “Well, baby, how about I go talk to mommy. You need to get back to bed, okay?”

“Mommy isn’t leaving us, right? Cause I don’t like Tyler.”

“Mommy isn’t going anywhere okay? I promise.”

After Yoongi put Chloe back to bed, he made his way to your guys shared bedroom. Cuddling up to you, Yoongi kissed the top of you head, his heart fluttering when he felt you cuddle back into him, sleepily placing a kiss on Yoongi’s chest.

“I love you,” you promised, sleep evident in your voice.

Smiling to himself, Yoongi knew that he has nothing to worry about. “I love you too.”

But the one who should be worrying is Tyler, when he wakes up chained to the chair that was placed in the middle of the dungeon that Yoongi has built underneath the headquarters.

Hoseok:

The scary thing about Hosoek, besides him being the most feared mafia bosses in the world, is when he relaxed. Not the relaxed that most people think – the relax where they are sizzling on the inside but is calm on the outside.

You have never witnessed this because Hoseok does not want you apart of the gang life, but the ones who dared to go against him see it. Some may call him sadistic, but Hoseok sees it as making a point. That point being to not go against him.

So, when Max, yours and Hoseok’s son came crying to Hoseok, Hoseok was automatically thinking of ways to eliminate the cause of his sons crying. Once Max had calmed down, he spoke about how he did not like the newbie, Mason, because he was making you upset and uncomfortable to the point where you threatened to call Hoseok.

Besides the ways Hoseok was wanting to murder Mason, the one thought bugged him – why did you not call him or tell him? Deciding to do that later, Hoseok comforted Max, taking him to his playroom, encouraging him to get Monopoly set up so he and Max could play in a little bit. Shutting the door, Hoseok began to make his way to the living room. The sight in front of him had his blood boiling.

There you were, pressed against the wall, voice pleading for Mason to stop bothering you, only for Mason to ignore your pleas. Walking up behind him, Hoseok grabbed Mason’s hair, pulling him off of you aggressively, earning a scream from said man. Pulling out his gun, he shoved it into Mason’s mouth, a sadistic grin on his face.

“My, my, you really asked for a death wish, didn’t you?” Hoseok tsked, enjoying the fear that was evident in the newbie’s eyes. Turning around, he saw your tear stained face, a sight that pushed Hoseok over the edge. Turning back to Mason, Hoseok spoke deadly. “You made her cry and assaulted her. I promise you; you will never see daylight ever again.” Wanting to comfort you before he goes and gets rid of the scum, Hoseok pulled you into his arms, consoling you. “I promise you, he will never mess with you again, my love.”

Feeling comforted by that knowledge, you pressed a kiss to your husbands’ chest, your silent way of thanking him. “Where’s Max?” You asked, knowing that Hoseok will be busy for a while.

“In his playroom, tell him that Daddy will be just a little bit before we play Monopoly, okay? I’ll be done soon.”

Nodding your head, you gave Hoseok a kiss before taking your bag and making your way to Max. Once you were gone, Hoseok turned towards Mason, a deadly grin on his face. “So, where were we?”

 Namjoon:

There are rules in the gang that Namjoon has placed:

One of them being to not go against him.

The second one being to respect you, his wife. With that rule comes with some extra bullet points: the main being to not flirt with you.

Obviously, everyone knows that, and the extra bullet points when it comes to you. Truthfully everyone likes you because you are kind, considerate, a good leader, and all together, very likeable. Everyone views you as a second leader, something that makes Namjoon proud because he sees you as a leader, his Queen. You word is law. Namjoon will bow to only you and no one else. He loves how everyone adores you, but the newbie adores you just a bit too much.

And that does not slide with Namjoon.

“A-And then he called Mommy bootiful!!” Chase, yours and Namjoon’s son explained, hands flying in the air as he does so. Taehyung tried to hide his laughter by coughing, finding the situation both innocent and amusing. “Only daddy can call mommy that! Not him!”

“Yeah!” Jungkook agreed, earning a smack on the head from Yoongi and a approved nod from Chase.

Ignoring Jungkook, Namjoon looked down at Chase with a serious look. “What else did Michael do?”

Face morphed into a thinking one, Chase tried to remember if there was anything else that he was leaving out. Coming to the conclusion that nothing else happened, besides his mommy getting a compliment from someone that he does not know, he shook his head. “No, only him calling mommy bootiful.”

“Okay buddy, thank you for telling me. How about Taehyung and Jungkook take you to get ice cream while I go talk to Michael, okay buddy?”

“Okay daddy!” Chase yelled excitedly, bouncing over to the two maknaes.

Namjoon gave Yoongi a serious nod, silently speaking about finding Michael. Namjoon did not plan on hurting Michael, hurting someone because they called you beautiful was ridiculous. But, he wanted to intimidate the newbie just for fun. When both Namjoon and Yoongi found the newbie training with Seokjin in the computer lab, Namjoon made eye contact with Seokjin, giving him a knowing look. Stepping aside, Seokjin made room so Namjoon could sit beside the newbie, while Yoongi stood behind him and Seokjin next to him. The newbie jumped when he found Namjoon sitting beside him.

“Oh, hello sir.” Michael stuttered out, bowing to his boss politely, doing the same with Yoongi.

“So,” Namjoon started off calmly, “I heard from a few people that you were flirting with my wife earlier. Care to explain?” Namjoon tried to keep himself from laughing at the pale look the newbie gave him.

“U-Uh, I only called her beautiful because she looked, she always looks beautiful! B-But, I promise that I won’t ever speak to her again if that’ll make you happy!” Michael was tripping over his words, trying to reply each second in his mind from when he interacted with you ever.

Breaking the seriousness in the room, Seokjin began to laugh from how scared Michael was. Rolling his eyes, a smirk appeared on Namjoon’s lips. “I’m just playing with you. Y/N is indeed very beautiful.” Namjoon hummed truthfully, a small smile taking over the smirk on his face, the thought of you having butterflies erupt in his stomach. Clearing his throat, he looked Michael dead in the eyes, “But, if I ever find out that your thoughts become actions, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your head, got it?”

[breakoutime]

Rewarded

Hades x (Neutral)Reader

Warning, nsfw!

Tags: Cockwarming, size kink, exibitionism? praise kink? (ask to tag pls)

Summary: Reader has been working hard for the house of Hades, and the master of the house has noticed and wants to reward them.

Authors note: Ok, VERYFIRST TIME writing smut, hopefully its good, or at least passable, english isnt my first language soooo yeah keep that in mind... P-please gimme feedback >///<

Your job at the House of the dead was a strange one. You weren't quite sure how to name it, but for now everyone referred to you as “The assistant”, you never really stayed in the same place for long, always being the one everyone called for help when a task was too much to handle. You have been assigned to Dusa to help with the cleaning, you’ve been working hard with the other shades inside the archive, you’ve been even assigned to stand by Achilles' side when the master of the house had visitors and considered some extra security was necessary. Dusa would always tell you how happy everyone was with your presence in the house, how helpful you’ve been, and how amazingly adaptable you were, having skills that allowed you to act and serve in all these different areas. Your face was quite often on the board at the Lounge, and it was obvious Hades himself was quite pleased with your performance. It was often that you would be called into his desk, to either give a report on your current task or to be praised for your hard work, which always left you inspired and happy for your next task.

You had to admit, your hard working attitude came not only for your passion for your work, but also for the passion you felt towards your master. You couldn't be quite sure when it started, it definitely wasn't there when you first arrived at the house. Hade´s was a rough man, cold, strict, serius. You would always hear him berate the others when their performance was not enough, often punishing them if their results were lacking. It was somewhere between Orpheus' punishment for refusing to sing, and when Zagreus started to openly fight back against his father, that you were called, alone, to Hades’ desk. Of course, at that time, you were anxious, wondering if even with your efforts, the master was disappointed in you and called to have you berated and punished, just like Orpheus was not so long ago, but no. Hades had specially called you simply to praise you, to say how, when so many of his workers, when even his own son was unable to handle his duties, you alone were there to support, cover and pull the needed effort and time to have the house working properly. You weren't able to suppress the smile in your face, or the tingling in your stomach as you heard the so often strict and stern master, praise your hard work for the whole house to hear. Slowly but surely you became obsessed with it. With working hard just to hear Hades himself telling you of your good work and how pleased he was with you. Soon you realized that those words did more than just kindle the fire of your hard work, but also left you warm with another kind of fire, one that burned between your legs. Now, everytime Hades praised you, you had to- no, you needed to take a short break to indulge yourself in that heat, to touch yourself and satisfy this burning need that arouse from you each time that booming, rough voice reverberated through your being, just to tell you how good you’ve been to this house, to him.

Today, you were hoping for such a praise, since you’ve been assigned to work at the archives, getting a lot of paperwork ready for Hades’ reviewing. This was your favorite thing to do, since the Lord was always so busy with paperwork at his desk, always reading and writing and filing, he never had anybody else there to help him with that particular part of the process, sure, at the archives many shades worked to get said paperwork ready for him, but no matter how hard you worked or how many shades he had at his disposal, he was always glued to his work, concentrated and dedicated, but also tired and slightly bored of the repetitive tasks he has at hand. There wasn't much you could do other than work hard and please him with your work, which immediately sent another jolt of heat through you. Of course, your stack of documents was done, which meant you now needed to personally deliver them to his desk. Your smile was proud and your face was slightly flushed from the heat you felt, feeling a bit too eager today to hear what your master had to say. Silently you wondered if it was noticeable, if the master knew that your enthusiastic work and demeanor came from these kinds of feelings, or even if the other people in the house knew. For a moment you thought how would Zagreus react, if he knew you had the hots for his father, but you quickly had to shake that thought and compose yourself, as you passed Achilles and walked straight up to Hades’s desk. 

As always, he was seated there, in his throne, reading attentively one of the many documents he had in his desk. One small part of you felt bad, because the stack of documents was considerably going to grow with the one you were holding, but sadly that stack was going to work either way. Patiently you waited, the stack was heavy but his desk was way too tall for you, and you already knew that interrupting him was never a good idea. If only you could float like Hypnos or Thanatos, or if you were taller, but just like the prince, your stature meant that you’d need some help to get up the desk. Soon, you saw Hades pick up his plume, signing one of the documents, a sign that he was done with his current one, and immediately you made your wade to his side, ready to hand the paperwork for when he stretched his arms to receive them. With a pleased hum, he acknowledged you, taking the stack of papers and thanking you in the process.

“Quick and efficient as always. Glad that there is someone here who never disappoints me.” You had to stifle a laugh, the comment was not only a praise to you but also a small insult to Hypnos, who was floating and sleeping soundly in the hallway in front of you two. 

“Now,” he said, tidying the new stack of documents before fully turning to you. “The house has been working quite efficiently lately, so i'm afraid there are few dignified chores left for someone of your skill and dedication...” That wasn't exactly a bad thing, sometimes you were given time off to rest, but there was something different about the way he spoke, the way he was looking at you. Anxiety started to build in you, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he simply raised his hand, stopping you. “Except one thing.” He moved, lowering his hand to your level. “Come here.” You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, your knees trembling, and cold drops of sweat falling from your brow. Was he really telling you to climb his hand? Nervously, you took a seat on it, allowing your master to raise you and place you comfortably in his lap. This was new, very new and confusing, you’ve never seen anyone have the honor of sitting on Hade's lap, but there you were, comfortable laying in one of his powerful thighs, staring up at him. Your master, who everyone respected and feared, who always made your very being burn was giving you this sort of treatment, of affection? His voice is lower this time, huskier, “Today I have a different task for you… A different kind of service that I need” His hand was on your back now, rubbing it gently. “One which will be quite pleasurable for you and for me.” You had been staring at him this whole time, looking at his eyes, his expression, which was something you’ve never seen before, desire was evident in his face. Desire for you. “I have made a concoction, to allow you to handle such a task-” he continued, now his other hand lifting his robes, exposing himself for you. You could not believe it. Your master wanted this from you, just as much as you wanted it from him. His size was massive, proportional to a man of his build and stature, you couldn't help but reach out, running your hand over it, how were you supposed to  please him? Even with your both hands you wouldn't be able to stroke him firmly, much less fit him inside of you- But your thoughts were interrupted by something uncorking. He did say something about a concoction, but how-

A small vial was in his hands, the liquid of which looked like nothing you had ever seen. It shifted in color, going from red to orange to green, it must have been made from Hades’ power. “Do not fear. Spread yourself for me, and I'll take care of the rest...” You didn't have to be told twice.  Breathing heavy, you allowed your master to pour that strange liquid into your entrance, which seemed to burn you in the most pleasurable way, making you let out soft pleased sounds. “It was about time we took some sort of break, so few of us take our work seriously...” gently, he applied pressure with his finger into your entrance, which to your surprise stretched without problem to fit his finger, coating your insides with the strange liquid as it went in. “And you are one of the bests of course.” His words were like honey, fueling the need inside you. “That's why I know only you will be up to this task….” He removed his finger, having your insides well coated and warm for his member. “I want you to keep me company, to keep me warm... While im at my desk today.” Your legs were shaking, but you knew what you had to do, he really didn't have to tell you. Bracing yourself against his chest, slowly you pressed your entrance into his member, even with the concoction, it took some effort, the tip slipping a couple of times before being able to get in. The stretch should have been painful, but all you could feel was pleasure, the burn of the strange liquid must have changed you, allowing you to take such size and not feel an ounce of pain. “Hmmmmm, go on now, get comfortable- Ah~!” Your master moaned when you started moving, the tightness of your hole breaking a small part of his determination to keep this quiet. You yourself weren't being quite quiet either, whimpers, moans and whines coming out of you as you slowly adjusted your tight grip on Lord Hades’ cock as you sank down, coming to a rest against him, now his member fully sheathed inside of you. Your Lord seemed to be taking a moment to compose himself while you simply slumped against him, your thighs twitching as your insides squeezed exquisitely around your master. In the back of your mind, you wondered if this was some sort of dream, one witch you’d never want to wake up from, but as Hades moved a document from the stack to be reviewed, one of his hands went for you, lifting you barely from his cock and pushing you down again, making him growl in satisfaction and you cry out in pleasure. “Absolutely perfect. Even now your performance is impeccable.” You couldn't really answer much to that, being a bit overwhelmed by this whole situation. “I was hoping to work while you kept me pleased, but you’ve demonstrated to be far more… stimulating than I thought.” He shifted you again, making you see stars and your insides to tremble. “But It hardly matters, this just means my paper work can wait....” He looked hungry at you, even more so, now holding you with both hands with the clear intention of focusing on you. “Now I’ll have to work on giving us both a reward for working so hard.”

With that, he started really moving you, pounding at you slowly and gently at first, but quickly picking up pace and intensity. Your screams of pleasure practically echoed in the house, you were unable to repress them, far too gone in the pleasure to care. “That's it, L-let everyone know your price- your pleasure!” He boomed on top of you, now lifting you up to lay on the desk as he stood and pounded away at you. “Let this be an example for everyone- Only the best can get this from me” Hades growls and loudly proclaims on top of you now, his movements so fanatic you can't understand how you havent came ten times by now, but the ecstasy you felt right now was more than worth it. You couldn't help but look around, now laying in said desk you had vision of Hypnos, who clearly had woken up and was openly staring with both of his hands over his mouth, a deep flush evident in his face, and achilles, who clearly was looking away, red and ashamed of being in proximity of such an act, and of course, many shades where looking, some even cheering at the expectable, even with the little features they had, you could see a pang of envy on them, which only fueled your pleasure. With a mighty grunt, he slammed deep inside of you, filling your insides with his seed, which was all you needed to break and finally cum yourself, blacking out for a second, over the overwhelming wave of pleasure he had just given you, that delicious burn his liquid gave you coming back with vengeance, making you ride your orgasm with that pleasure too, leaving you utterly spent and satisfied. Maybe it was that same liquid which made your orgasm wait, so that you could reach it with master Hades. 

Now, with both of you panting, he gently pulls out of you, covering himself again and using a clan rag on one of his drawers to help you clean up. The adoration in your face must have been evident, since the look he gave you was both gentle and smug. “I’ll leave you to rest in my quarters, but once I'm finished with this paperwork, I'll join you one more there, I won't be long.” With that, he picked you up and carried you to his room, just in time for zagreus to rise from the river, shooting you a questioning look as he saw his father carry you away. You were far too tired to care, really, the only thing that mattered now was the fact that Lord Hades himself was laying you on his bed, where he would surely instruct you to pleasure him, now in private. Curling up. you knew you needed some rest if you wanted, like always, to give your very best for the task.

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

For the prompts and because now I need it: Willex + Kangaroo 💕

- sunsetsandcurves

Okay! So, I know your official prompt was Willex, but I decided to do Reggie Outsider POV cause I don’t write him enough, and then it... got away from me... And I accidentally wrote Julie/Luke/Reggie again (and apparently I’m only capable of writing in Reggie’s POV if he’s pining...) but I also wrote he/they Willie on purpose this time! Anyway, hopefully you like this, but if it’s not satisfactory just drop another ask in my box and I’ll write a part two that actually has more Alex and Willie in it.

Also I kind of inadvertently referenced your last Willex flower ficlet in this lol. Anyway, enjoy :)

--

“Hey, Hotdog. Kangaroo.”

Reggie’s head snaps up from where he’s been peering suspiciously at a wagon of precariously-stacked apples, trying to see if he can knock them over with his mind (so far, he’s been unsuccessful). Across the aisle, Willie has just plucked a bundle of radishes (bushel of radishes? Reggie’s not well-versed in the collective nouns of vegetables) off a table and hands them to Alex, trailing obediently along behind them. Alex rolls his eyes, stuffs the radishes in his fanny pack, and leaves a couple dollars on the table. 

They’re all at a Farmers’ Market by Julie’s school. She had to go to do research for an Economics project, and she graciously let her ghosts boys (and Willie) tag along. They’re having one of their “visibility to lifers is hard” days, so (as Willie has continuously reminded them) they could probably steal whatever produce they want and get away with it. But Julie gave them each a stern talk and twenty dollars at the entrance, so Alex has put it upon himself to pay for everything Willie tries to convince him to smuggle away in his fanny pack.

Alex and Willie move on to a station selling flowers, and Reggie abandons his apple staring contest to bound along behind them. He hopes Willie will say again what Reggie thinks he just said, because Reggie might have just imagined it but he doesn’t know how to ask.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. Willie plucks a pretty purple flower out of a pile and tucks it behind Alex’s ear (Alex wrinkles his nose out of instinct, but it’s not like he still has hayfever as a ghost). Then, Willie grabs a handful of seed packets, stuffs them in Alex’s hands, and says, “Kangaroo.”

Reggie’s mouth drops open. So they did say it! He scans his surroundings, craning his neck to see all the way to the entrance of the Farmers’ Market, but there’s no sign of an Australian marsupial anywhere. Not that Reggie had really been expecting to see one in the middle of Los Angeles, California, but why else would Willie be talking about them unless he’d seen one?

Reggie spins in a full circle until he catches sight of Luke and Julie over by the baked goods. He spares one last glance back at Alex and Willie (who seem to be bickering over the ethics of stealing flower petals out of the trash now) and then poofs across the market, appearing next to Luke and Julie by a stand selling bread and cookies.

“Hey, Reg,” Luke says without looking up. He’s got a chocolate chip cookie in one hand and a frosted sugar cookie in the other, and he’s looking back and forth between them like they’re the players of an extremely entertaining tennis match.

Reggie shoots Julie a questioning look. She rolls her eyes fondly and explains, “I told him he can only have one cookie. He’s been trying to decide for the last twenty minutes.”

“I’m narrowing it down,” Luke insists.

Julie laughs, and the sound sends a burst of fluttery happiness through Reggie’s chest. He grins, and almost forgets what he came over here to say in the first place, until Julie says, “Anyway. What have you been getting yourself up to, Reggie?”

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Not too much. Bought some kiwis. Had an altercation with an apple cart. Mostly just third-wheeled Alex and Willie.”

He tries not to sound too bitter about it, but he’s not sure it works. He loves his friends, so much, and of course he wants them to be happy, but he can’t deny he feels a little left out sometimes, when they all pair off for date night, or hold hands on the sidewalk, and Reggie’s just… there.

(Part of him wants to find someone for himself, so that they can be three couples instead of two. Another, much more repressed, part of him wants there to still only be two couples, just… one of them has three people in it. He doesn’t know if that’s something he’s allowed to want, though, or even something that’s okay to think about, so he tries not to, and he doesn’t say a word about it to anyone, especially not Luke or Julie.)

“Aw, Reg,” Julie says, drawing him back to the present. She puts a hand on his arm, and Reggie beams, hoping he’s not blushing too visibly. “Well, I don’t know if third-wheeling us is any better, but you’re welcome to hang out!”

Reggie deflates. Right. Still third-wheeling. Because they’re still LukeAndJulie. And Reggie’s just there.

He pastes on a grin and deftly changes the subject. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you guys—you haven’t seen a kangaroo around here anywhere, have you?”

Luke finally looks up from his cookies to give Reggie one of his patented Hey, Reg, you’re a dumbass looks (they used to be insulting, but considering Reggie’s been on the receiving end of them since literally 1978, he’s used to them by now).

Julie, ever the angel, just settles for a politely confused frown and repeats, “Kangaroo?”

“Yeah,” Reggie says. “Willie kept saying stuff to Alex about a kangaroo, but I didn’t know if they meant, like, a real kangaroo or a stuffed one or something, but I didn’t see either, so I figured I’d ask you guys.”

Luke frowns thoughtfully. “Are you sure it’s not a gay thing? Maybe it’s a gay thing.”

Julie whacks him with her purse. “It is not a—who are you?” While Luke rubs his arm with a pout, she asks Reggie, “What was the context for this?”

“There wasn’t any!” Reggie insists. “He just kept handing Alex stuff to put in his fanny pack and saying, ‘Kangaroo.’”

Julie pulls her phone out of her back pocket, muttering, “Hold up. Maybe…” She types for a second, Luke attempting to slip both cookies in her purse while she’s distracted (she swats his hand away without looking up), and then exclaims, “Here we go!” and holds her phone out for Reggie to see. “In some countries, that belt bag Alex wears is referred to as a kangaroo! Cause it’s a pouch, I guess.”

“Definitely a better name than fanny pack,” Luke muses, guiding Julie by the wrist to turn the phone around for him. They bend their heads together, giggling over whatever article Julie found, and Reggie’s enthusiasm fades into a hardened pit in his stomach.

He mutters an awkward goodbye and poofs back across the market, not bothering to wait for Luke and Julie to notice.

An hour later, Reggie returns to the bakery stand and buys the last chocolate chip cookie (since Luke eventually chose the frosted one). When he catches up with his friends at the exit, he sidles up between Alex and Willie, holds the cookie out, and says, “Hey, Alex! Can you please put this in your…” He pauses dramatically and winks at Willie. “Kangaroo?”

“Oh, my god,” Alex sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eyyy!” Willie cheers, giving Reggie an enthusiastic fist bump. “I knew it’d catch on!”

Reggie grins. He’s okay being the third wheel on good days like this. He just loves his friends so much.

--

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