#in which i give the doc yet another au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yandere-daydreams · 11 months ago

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Title: Ferine.

Pairing: Yandere!Toji x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 4.1k.

TW: Hybrid AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Slight Manipulation, Rough Sex, Oral Sex, Knotting, Mentions of Blood + Violence, Slight Breeding, and Biting.

Toji was, by far, the largest hybrid you’d ever taken care of.

Which, technically speaking, wasn’t that big of an accomplishment. This was barely your third month at the research facility, and you could count the number of hybrids you’d encountered before being hired here on a single hand. Still, even compared to the other wolves you currently looked after, Toji was beyond impressive. His long, pointed ears and stocky build set him well above six-foot, and even if he’d lacked height, he would’ve been able to make up for it with the planes of sculpted muscle circled around his biceps and thighs, laid over his chest and back. Top it all off with a set of claws each longer than your pointer finger and sharp enough to pierce reinforced steel, and he was practically fit for exhibit. Not that Toji could ever actually be a show dog, no – he’d tear the judges apart before they’d so much as heard his name. He was sweet, but he had a temper. You had to be careful not to set him off.

His fangs were impressive, too – perfectly in-tact despite years of less-than-adequate care, only a touch duller than a real wolf’s. You were careful not to let your hand stray from where it cupped his cheek as you looked for signs of damage or rot only to, of course, come up empty. The longer you spent with him, the more convinced you were that nothing could actually hurt Toji, even if the faded scar stitched into the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.

“All done,” you started, letting go of his cheek. Immediately, Toji’s jaw snapped shut with enough strength to take off a finger, had you given him the chance. “Perfect as always, Toji. I think you might be my best patient.”

A cocky smile found its way to his lips, and you could hear his tail beating lazily against the dirt floor of his enclosure. The facility was committed to replicating the natural environments of their more exotic hybrids as closely as possible, even if Toji claimed he’d trade it all for a punching bag, or better yet, something ‘real’ to dig his teeth into, whatever that meant. “Do I get a treat, doc?”

It was asked playfully, but still, you hummed by way of confirmation, pulling your duffle bag into your lap and fishing Toji’s well-earned rewards – a generic chocolate bar and a can of some painfully acidic, sickeningly sweet brand of soda your hybrid patients couldn’t seem to get enough of. It was a meager prize, but it was as much as you were able to spare considering how strict his caretakers were when it came to his diet. You’d probably save yourself a few dirty looks if you didn’t give him anything at all, but it didn’t feel right to leave him empty-handed.

He accepted your humble offering greedily. While the chocolate bar was stowed away for later consumption, the can was pierced with a clawed thumb and emptied in one long, unpleasantly audible swig. You’d only started to push yourself to your feet when Tojj finished, letting the now empty can fall to the ground before turning his attention back to you. “It hurts my feelings, knowing you’re just gonna run off and put your hands on another animal.” His ear pressed flat against his scalp, as if he was trying (and failing) to feign disappointment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d start to think you didn’t really care about all the time we’ve spent together.”

“You’re not exactly in desperate need of medical attention,” you chided, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “And I’m on a schedule. Not all of us can sit around, grooming ourselves all day.”

That earned a breathy laugh, a coy lilt to his smile. “Well, if you wanted to take a shot at it, I wouldn’t—”

“Save it. I get enough of that with the cats.” Just thinking about it made you grimace. It was one thing to think that Toji might bite you. Knowing Satoru and Suguru – the bonded leopard and panther pair who shared a check-up date with Toji – would insist on licking any exposed skin raw before letting you do your job was a much more tangible reality. “I’ll see you in a couple of days. You’ll be good until then, right?”

“I’m gonna gut those fucking strays.” His answer was blunt, immediate, but he cracked as soon you shot him a purse-lipped frown. “Kidding, kidding. I’ll just rough ‘em up a little – make ‘em regret putting their paws on you, y’know?”

You couldn’t help but soften. Toji was rough around the edges, but he wasn’t a bad dog. He just had a protective streak and that, paired with his brash personality and tendency to bite before he barked, was enough for most people to write him off.

You really did have a long, long list of other appointments you had to get to before the end of the day, but against your better judgement, you paused as you passed him, reaching down to rake your fingers through sleek black hair. He was stoic, especially for a hybrid, but even his cool, dark eyes and wry smile couldn’t hide the way his tail moved just a little faster at the feeling of your nails raking over his scalp, his ears immediately perking up. It only took a second for him to bat your hand away, but you only laughed as you started towards the staff exit, waving to Toji over your shoulder.

Maybe, for his next check-up, you’d see if you could sneak in something special.

“Your mutt’s been unruly, lately.”

You glanced up from your clipboard, turning your full attention to Nanami and quickly finding that he hadn’t paid you the same courtesy. He was one of the senior researchers and, so far, the only one you could stand to be around for any longer than a few minutes. Since the higher-ups expected you to fill out your reports with one hand while you took a four-hundred-pound tiger’s temperature with the other, you tended to camp out in Nanami’s office when you had paperwork to file. “Toji?” Nanami nodded, and you rolled your eyes. “I’m just the vet, Kento. If his handlers aren’t doing their—”

“The problem isn’t his handlers, it’s him.”

His voice was flat, his tone icy. You laid your clipboard over your lap, crossing your arms over your chest. “He’s an animal. It’d be more out of character if he didn’t lash out occasionally.”

Nanami opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly. After a lengthy pause, he leaned back in his seat, bringing a hand to his temples and massaging absentmindedly. “Do you know why he hasn’t been released back into the wild, yet?”

Obviously. Working with hybrids – let alone exotic hybrids – was dangerous, and your debriefing had drilled the face, name, and background of every animal in the facility into your memory. “He was born in captivity. He’s too acclimated to human society to adjust to the wilderness.”

Nanami pressed his lips into a thin line – an expression you’d learned to read as ‘you’re right, but I’m not going to say that’. Still, a degree of satisfaction accompanied his silent confirmation. “He was found in a dog fighting ring – or, what was left of one, at least. It took three rounds of sedation and two broken muzzles before our recovery team was able to get him under control.”

A knot formed at the base of your throat. Fuck chocolate, Toji deserved a blanket and as many hugs as he would let you give him. “That’s terrible, Kento. Were the organizers arrested?”

“The organizers—” Nanami straightened. “—were found mauled and stuffed into a kennel. Their bodies were so thoroughly mutilated, we had to rely on blood samples to identify them.”

“Wolves aren’t known for attacking unprovoked. It could’ve been another—”

“One of his handlers is currently hospitalized,” Nanami went on, as if you hadn’t cut in. “And two have already turned in their resignations – a resounding fear for their welfare in the workplace, supposedly.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, and that knot in your throat tightened until only the barest whisper could find its way out. “He’s not a bad dog,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. “He just— He loses his temper, sometimes. He doesn’t mean to hurt anymore.”

“He’s never tried to hurt you?”

You didn’t have to think before shaking your head. “Never.”

That, of all things, seemed to catch Nanami’s attention. For the first time, his eyes flickered briefly to you before falling back to his desk, his paperwork. “Good,” he said, marking down something on a piece of scrap paper in front of him. If he felt the need to elaborate, he clearly didn’t deem it worth the effort.

Later that day, you were informed that you were being transferred to the reptile wing indefinitely. If you’d been there for a few more months, if you’d had a little more experience to throw around, if you’d had a little more authority, you might’ve protested, but it was all you could do to nod and set to memorizing your new schedule.

It took exactly three weeks for you to see Toji again.

One of his handlers – a woman in her early twenties sporting a pressed scowl and a gauze-padded bandage on her cheek – met you at the facility’s gates and flatly told you that Toji was injured. You’d never been in the facilities (much less with a hybrid) after sundown, and in the simulated wilderness of his enclosure, it was easy to forget that you were never more than twenty feet away from a security camera, that there was only one apex predator you had to be afraid of. After checking your usual meeting spot (clear spot near the center of his enclosure – neutral territory, safe territory) and finding it vacant, you reluctantly stumbled your way to his den, dragging your feet despite the urgency of the situation. Toji wouldn’t deliberately attack you, but any animal could react if provoked. You didn’t want to set him off. More importantly, you didn’t want to prove Nanami right.

You’d never ventured far enough to see his den, but you knew what to expect. A square shell of cement occupied the deepest corner of Toji’s enclosure, bracketed off by a metal door tucked inside of a deep entryway meant to give the illusion of privacy. You approached it slowly, stepping underneath the shadowed overhang with no small amount of caution, but you didn’t get the chance to knock before a hand manifested on your shoulder and shoved you against the cold steel.

Claws bit into to the dip of your shoulder, then your wrist, too, as he caught your hand and shoved it into the small of your back. You felt hot air on the nape of your neck, heard heavy panting laced with the barest trace of a throaty growl, and it took everything you had not to panic, not to struggle, not to give him a reason to dig his teeth into your neck and tear. Toji wasn’t a bad dog, but he was still a dog. He’d still bite, if given an excuse.

“Toji,” you started, slowly, taking care to soften each harsh syllable of his name. “I’m here to help you.”

He didn’t respond, his hold only tightening. His check pressed into your back, and there was a short, airy noise – sniffing, as little as you wanted to put a name to it. “Toji,” you repeated, with more urgency. “I heard you were hurt. Will you let me help you?”

A second passed in silence, then another. Finally, he pulled away from you, releasing your wrist first, then your shoulder. He remained where he was – a little too close, a little too looming – as you shuffled to face him, forcing yourself not to consciously acknowledge that you were in a very big cage with a very poorly behaved animal. His handlers hadn’t mentioned why they’d needed you, but you didn’t have to wonder for very long. Even in the pitch dark, you could see the dark blood covering his jaw, washed over his throat and chest. It was on his hands, too, coating the white bone of his claws, and matted into his dark hair. Your waning self-control faltered then shattered altogether, your hands shooting to his head, his face, searching for bruising or swelling or broken bones, but surprisingly, all your worry earned was an airy laugh. “It’s not mine, doc.” He laid a hand over yours. “I’m doin’ just fine. Even better, now that you’re here.”

But he wasn’t. Twin sets of puncture marks were littered across his throat, his face, his arms. Something had taken a chunk out of his left bicep, and five matching scratch marks had been etched deep into the skin of his chest. The wounds looked feline, but you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on the implications. “You’re hurt,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. Your hands fell to his shoulders, pushing him downward gently. “I— I’ve got bandages, and sutures—” You let your bag fall from your shoulder to your elbow, already reaching for the zipper. “Find somewhere to sit. We should get you cleaned up before something worse sets in.”

Panic was quickly overshadowing your better judgement, but Toji didn’t move, didn’t look away from you. He was still wearing that coy, sardonic grin – almost teasing, given your anxiety. “I already told you, I’m just fine.” His smile widened, until his pointed fangs caught in the dim light. “I didn’t think you’d actually come. They said I could ask for whatever I wanted, but—” He paused, sucked in a sharp breath. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

“Toji, you’re not making any sense. You need help.” Again, you pushed gently on his shoulders, and again, he didn’t seem to notice. This time, though, he shifted, leaned toward you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You scowled, shoving a little less gently on his chest, but Toji didn’t move. “Toji, please, just let me help—”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, princess.” You felt his hands on your waist, then your ass. His chest was slotted against yours, and his tongue ran unabashedly over the curve of your neck once, then twice before he went on. “Keep sayin’ my name like that, and I won’t be able to control myself.”

Something pressed into your thigh – hot and hard and, like the rest of Toji, fucking huge. Your heart fell into your stomach, the air flooding out of your lungs and leaving you dazed, breathless.

Fuck. Fuck.

You should’ve stuck with the fucking reptiles.

Toji was panting audibly, again; his tongue lapping over your neck, your cheek. You were still cursing yourself for ever applying for this shitty job in the first place when Toji fell to his knees, forcing your thighs onto his shoulders as his claws caught on the fabric of your pants, decimating the thin material in an instant. His teeth tore away your panties just as quickly, leaving you exposed, splayed out on a silver platter in front of him. You reacted reflectively – knotting your fingers in his hair and doing your best to pry him away from you, but your strength was nothing compared to his and in the end, all you earned was a throaty groan, a tight squeeze to your ass before he buried his face in your cunt. His teeth grazed against the tender insides of your thighs, his claws biting into your now-unprotected skin, but the feeling of his tongue laving over the length of your slit replaced every other sensation with pure heat.

Predictably, he was near animalistic – his thick tongue fucking into you as the bridge of his nose ground shamelessly into your clit. From a distance, it would’ve been hard to tell if he was trying to eat you out or eat you alive; every noise he made feral and wet, punctuated with rough growls and little, uncharacteristic whines. It would’ve been impossible not to feel anything, but still, you couldn’t help but hate yourself when it started to feel good. His tongue was thick and textured, long enough to fill your pussy and flexible enough to curl inside of you, abusing the walls of your cunt without mercy. It was difficult to tell how much of the gloss staining his chin and the inside of your thighs was his drool and how much of it was your arousal, but even if your mind was disgusted by every slick noise and sharp flick of his tongue, there was nothing your body could do to block out the sudden pang of heat in your core, to fight the way your legs ached to clench around his head and pull the source of your revulsion that much closer.

“To—Toji, no, st—” you tried to say, like you were scolding a normal dog, like any part of you still thought he was listening. A cracked moan cut you off prematurely, and even if it hadn’t, Toji’s only response was a bruising squeeze to your ass, a low moan just loud enough to reverberate against your sensitive clit. Blinding white flashed across your vision, and before you could stop, before you could bring yourself back from that edge, you were coming undone on his tongue, your hips bucking against his face as he nursed you through your mind-numbing climax. Rather than pull away, he forced his tongue that much deeper into your pussy – taking advantage of your hypersensitivity to drag another unwilling orgasm out of you, then another, until the dried blood smeared across his lips was tacky and dripping onto your skin. He only pulled away when your little, pained sounds began to die into half-choked pleas and your limited strength failed, leaning you limp and boneless on top of him, and even then, he took the time to drag his tongue over your slit, to lap up what would’ve been wasted slick. You would’ve given anything for him to just leave you like that – messy and covered in your own arousal, but unfortunately, Toji had never been a bad dog.

His gaze flitted up to meet yours. “Sorry, princess,” he muttered, when he saw the misery knitted into your expression. The broad grin he wore was anything but apologetic, though. “Might’ve gotten carried away after all. Can’t help it – you always come to me, smellin’ like other men, and nobody ever lets me do anything about it.” He nuzzled into the inside of your thigh, nipping at the tender flesh with just enough force to break the skin. There was a tight pinch, of bright spark of pain, but Toji tended to the minimal wound lovingly, running his tongue over the thin stream of blood. “Gonna have you nice n’ scented by the end of the night.” A sharp whimper slipped past your grit teeth as the points of his fangs grazed over your skin, and Toji sighed. “Gonna have you nice n’ bred, too, if you keep making those sounds.”

Bred. Bred. Bred. You turned the offensive word over in your mind, unable to grasp what it possibly could’ve meant, as Toji carefully lowered you onto the ground – never so much as toying with the idea of fucking you into anything other than the cold, raw earth. It wasn’t until his clawed hand fell to the hard, pulsing cock standing stiffly between his legs that you were able to fully process what he’d said, what he was threatening to do to you. Your thoughts went blank, your years of veterinary school and countless hours of animal-handling training and common sense all dissolving into total nonexistence in an instant. It didn’t matter that he was taller than you, stronger than you – you were already throwing your full weight against him, scratching at his chest with your blunt nails, doing everything in your so incredibly limited power just to get away from him. Your latest wave of resistance wasn’t enough to overwhelm him, but it earned a frustrated rumble at the base of his throat, a downward quirk to his cocky smile. Your nails caught one of the puncture marks on his cheek and, reflexively, he straightened his back, brought his hand to his face, left just enough space between your body and his for you to roll onto your chest and scramble desperately towards freedom. You’d barely gotten your knees underneath you when his hand lashed out, catching you by the collar and forcing your cheek into the soil. His chest pressed into your back, his legs caging yours in on either side, and worst of all, his cock throbbed against your ass – somehow, impossibly, harder than it’d been a few seconds ago. You might’ve jotted it down as an impressive display of canine resilience, if you hadn’t felt so desolated.

“Shoulda figured you wouldn’t make this easy on yourself.” His voice was rougher than it had been, but no less self-satisfied. That made sense. Wolves were endurance predators. He would’ve come into this expecting there to be a struggle. “I thought you’d be more of a mate than a bitch, but—” He paused, his mouth settling against the nape of your neck. “—either’s fine by me.”

You clenched your eyes shut. “Please, Toji, don’t do—”

But, it was already too late. He rutted your ass once, then twice, before his tip caught on the entrance to your abused pussy and he was inside of you, fully sheathed without a trace of resistance.

Toji was big, even for a hybrid. He was a hunter, tried and true, all muscle and agility and pure, unfaltering strength. Even with his generous (albeit, unwelcomed) prep, it was all you could do to convince yourself that his cock wouldn’t tear you apart. He was thick enough to press against every soft and sensitive spot inside of you, long enough to leave a tight knot of pressure sitting in the pit of your stomach, and when he started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in, the force alone was enough to scatter little black spots in the corner of your vision and leave you hazy, light-headed. The way he was fucking into you didn’t help anything, either. Keening whines slipped out of some deep, feral pocket of his chest as he took advantage of your vulnerable cunt, alternating between grinding into you with a desperate sort of clinginess and trying to bully his way that much deeper with bruising, brutal thrusts. One arm wrapped around your midriff, dragging you even close to him, while a groping hand found the delicate buttons of your top and tore, ridding you of what was left of your protection against him. He kneaded half-consciously at your chest as he fucked into you; his own pleasure suddenly his only priority.

His selfishness should’ve been a welcome change, but you were too far gone, your body too eager to find a silver lining to his rough affection. Your hands clawed mindlessly at the ground as he pumped into you, the heat of his body against yours clouding your senses and making the feeling of cock stretching you open, his dull head pounding against your cervix all the more unbearable. You doubted he’d be able to talk, even if he’d had anything left to say, but he was still vocal enough. Raspy groans and harsh grunts rung distantly in your ears, his calloused hands groping mercilessly at your chest, your stomach, your waist. Finally, his thumb found its way to your neglected clit, and with less than a full second of stimulation, you were buckling into yourself, clamping down around his cock with a fractured whimper. As humiliated as you were, Toji wasn’t far behind. With something between a moan and a howl, he was cumming inside of you – predictably making no attempt to pull out. Something hot and vile flooded into you, but it was hard to focus on that when you could feel something hard and bloated and wrong press into your entrance. Toji’s breath hitched as he forced his knot into your tight cunt, and whatever hope you had for coming out of this unscathed curled up and died inside of you.

You could feel him slacken on top of you. You almost thought he would collapse like that, leave you locked to him and trapped under his weight, but instead, he nuzzled against the crook of your neck, his fangs ghosting over your throat before sinking into the soft flesh just underneath your jugular. He stayed like that, his knot splitting open your pussy and his teeth buried in your neck, until you lost any hope of him ever pulling away.

Exhausted, you shut your eyes, sinking into yourself. You’d been right, in a way. Toji wasn’t a bad dog.

He was just a terrible terrible man.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere oneshot #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #yandere jjk #toji x reader #yandere toji #fushiguro toji x reader #yandere fushiguro toji #hybrid au

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shepscapades · 24 days ago

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HI SHEP

Just read all 3 chapters in one sitting and I'm. I'm insane. I have the urge to spin uncontrollably and explode,,

They way you write the interactions between Doc and X is perfect, they are so easy to imagine and visualize in my head while reading IT'S MAKING ME SICK IN A GOOD WAY

Also the way Xisuma's stress is described??? Wonderful!!! You can feel the anxiety, the fear of losing another hermit (and specifically his lab partner) everything about him shaking and feeling physically sick from the stress ough,,, love that

Also getting some info on the helmet too,,,

I could be horribly wrong about this, but when I read the part about Doc's mysterious wound my mind brought me back to these parts of the Destruction comic, that feel like a flashback to something we haven't seen yet (different coloring, Doc's design is a bit different)

from the looks of it Doc's the one holding the shard(?) thing in the last image which could mean nothing

anyways back to the fic appreciation

I love how Doc keeps joking around as he's nearing a death-like state, this guy

and the fact that he cares so much for X, and X worrying so much for him too checking if he's alright I'm going to explode af jfkksaffj

Doc is so funny and lame/pos I love him

killing you for this one personally, putting bombs under your house

I can feel this scene with my heart Xisuma,,,,,,,,,,,, whenever he talks to Doc I can just imagine how he sounds, someone give this man a break,,,

you were right when you said they'll need blankets, hugs and hot tea after this

There's so many things I enjoyed about this fic, genuinely your docsuma content is top tier and I can't get over how good you are both at drawing them and their body language as well as writing them! Truly impressed, this fic made my day (and night after a re-read!) your dbhc au is so interesting and I abolutely love everything about it

anyways going to spin these two in my head like they are in a microwave I'm so insane

WUWAWUWUW MAY MARIGOLD!!!! Your breakdown asks never fail to make me spin around one million times, perceptive eye as ever >:3 AND TYSM FOR READING AND ENJOYING!!!! <3

#dbhc #dlirth #dbhc breakdown #dbhc theories #dbhc ask #ask #1-marigold-1 #dbhc doc #dbhc xisuma #art escapades #my sona #the shepherd

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melancholymetropolis · 1 year ago

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Escapism.

plot: In which two lonely souls find each other in the middle of the woods

pairings: HeadlessHorseman!Nanami Kento x Reader

genre(s): Hurt with Comfort, Porn with Feelings

warnings: unedited (mostly). a load of crying from the reader. the headless horseman is an absolute gentleman. COURTING. gifts (f receiving). reader is a jokester. nanami is actually headless and the reader is scared of him at first. PIV SEX. fingering (f receiving). squirting. rounds and pounds. nanami falls first and HARD. he is covered in scars. traumatic past. lowkey its an "I can fix him" au. Couple's Banter.

w.c: 9.02k

The spare sunlight trickled from between the clouds and kissed the rippling water of the lake. The morning dew was still heavy in the air and it created a mist above the water. I broke through the milky terrain and debated whether I should catch up with my companions. They seemed to be miles away from me, engaging in some kind of conversation. By the smiles on their faces, it had to be one they both enjoyed. Perhaps pertaining to their blossoming relationship.

I wasn’t a fool.

I could see the way they looked at each other. The love they shared grew every time we were together. The smiles never seemed to leave their faces when they were side by side. The lingering touches seemed far too intimate to have belonged to “just friends”. There was more going on than they let on. More than meets the eye. Yet, I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t mention it. I knew that the moment the question “Are you fucking?” came out of my mouth that I would be shamed. They would minimize my every observation and make me believe that I was seeing things. What made the notion worse was that they would immediately alter their behavior afterward. They would go back to being just friendly with one another and pretend like they weren’t engaging in a forbidden romance just before.

We were supposed to be celebrating my birthday and new promotion. Yet, here I was. Playing the third wheel to my so-called “friends”. There was an intense feeling of loneliness that drifted through me when I was around them. I almost felt excluded from my very own camping trip. I just didn’t connect with them like I used to. The moment the possibility of love came between them, they blocked out everything and everyone around them. They were so absorbed with one another that they didn’t see anyone else. They couldn’t see me— desperately trying to get their attention. So, for both my sanity and my dignity, I’ve decided to cut the trip short. At least, my participation in it. I was going to give the lovebirds all the room they needed to mess around. I could no longer stomach the feeling of exclusion any longer.

A single tear rolled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. Removing the evidence of any notice of sadness on my face.

Through the milky mist, I could Trista and Jessica boarding the doc. Their hands were tighter interlocked and their smiles were even wider than before. They were still too far ahead to hear their conversation, but I could tell it was a continuation of the funny one from earlier.

I tore my eyes away from the couple and looked into the rippling water.

It was so inviting and pleasant.

I dropped the teary hand into the water without thinking. I swirled the digits into the clear pool and felt tingles slowly course through my body. Instead of providing a cool sensation, the tingles gave me a warm one. It made the water feel even more comforting. The emotional feeling was neither familiarity nor longing. It was neutral. Almost the feeling you get when you start a new relationship. Right after you discover that your potential suitor may not be an axe murderer. The moment you realized that they had the potential to be your one and only. The water felt, simply put, hopeful.

I kept quiet on the drive back to the cabin. I allowed the lovers and the radio to occupy all the space between us. My eyes drifted out the window, taking in the beautiful woodlands around us. My heart ached at the notion that I could never truly enjoy it. Six months of planning a fantastic rural getaway ruined by the people I held most dear.

“Sorry to interrupt your jam session,” the radio host interjected, mid-song. “But, it was just brought to our attention that a massive mud lid has shaken Evergreen County. It has blocked off access to Route 78, meaning no one will be coming in or out of Evergreen until it is all clear.”

“That’s really unfortunate,” Trista said, clicking off the radio.

“Yeah,” Jessica replied, her eyes flicking over to me in the rearview mirror. “Good thing Y/N booked the cabin for the rest of the week and stocked the fridge, right?”

I gave her a weary smile and looked back out the window.

My plan of leaving was completely foiled. I was stuck with these damned lover birds until the roads were clear. My sadness was quickly replaced with anger beneath my skin. I didn’t have the energy to conceal my emotions anymore. I was incredibly tired of engaging in the activity and lacked the social battery to communicate with these women any longer.

“What with the long face, Y/N?” Trista asked, turning her head towards me. “Are you boat-sick?”

I nodded. “That must be what it is.”

“I’ll put on a pot of tea when we get back to the cabin, okay?” She cooed.

I hummed in agreement. “That sounds good.”

“Maybe you should lay down for a bit, as well,” Jessica chimed in. “Just take the night off. Leave dinner to us for once.”

“Yeah! I can finally make that lasagna soup I was telling you about!” Trista squealed. “When I tell you guys it’s so good! I mean it is to die for.”

“I can’t wait to try it.”

I used the boat sick excuse to hole myself in my room for the rest of the night. My tolerance for their lies had reached its limit and I really wanted to be alone. After a quick shower to wash off the smell of the outside, I slipped into my favorite nightgown. It was a custom number from a Parisian seamstress, a birthday present to myself. The garment was made of deep mauve-colored silk with a lace neckline. It had been well fitted in the waist and thigh air— yet came down to my ankles like a silken waterfall. The seller was so kind to give me a matching robe and bonnet with my order; which I also wore to bed that night. I pulled the fluffy duvet up to about chest level, before lowering my eyemask. I relaxed all the muscles within my body and released the tension in my jaw. I took several deep breaths and rolled over to my side.

However, neither one of these tactics seemed to work.

I had laid in my bed for hours, unable to relax fully.

My mind was simply too busy to sleep. The sadness arose once more now that I was alone. There was a gnawing in my chest that I couldn’t shake. It had gotten worse the longer I held it in. The call/text for dinner had come and went eons ago. The faux bubbly persona of my friends had retired to their rooms and left me to my own vices.

In desperate need of a change of scenery, I swung my legs from the edge of my bed and put on my slippers. I grabbed the chunky knit sweater that hung behind the door and slipped it on. I made sure to keep my footsteps light when walking through the hall. I didn’t want to wake Trista or Jessica. Both claimed to be really light sleepers, but I found that hard to believe.

About halfway through the corridor, I realized that my actions were done in vain. Trista’s room had been right near the staircase and her door was cracked open. Pleasurable moans and sensual sighs oozed from the room. There was a subtle creaking sound from the old bedframe as well. I recognized Trista’s voice sending hushed praises to the other lover. Whispering to Jessica about how good at “it” she was and how she never wanted her to stop.

Suddenly, the house felt entirely too small for the three of us.

My gentle footsteps carried me outside to the porch. I took a seat on the old rocking chair on the left and found myself looking up at the sky. I could not spot a single cloud in the sea of stars. The moon was full and gave everything around me an ivory tint. It was beautiful, for lack of a better word. It was the reason I decided to come to Evergreen County in the first place. I sat up in the rocking chair and placed my forearms on the railing. I allowed my chin to rest on the fleshy area and simply looked at the property around me. I took in the loud chirps of the crickets and the subtle twinkling of fireflies. I felt the cool breeze kiss my skin and the smell of pine invaded my nostrils. I tasted the fresh air on my tongue and felt it penetrate my lungs. With a deep breath, I tried to force all the negative shit out of me. I brought the pain from my chest and to my head. I finally let myself cry.

After a few minutes, I realized that I was no longer alone. I could hear the sound of horse hooves clicking against the pavement. Coming up the driveway was, in fact, a horse. A massive black stallion with a mane that is only seen in fairy tales. Its shiny black coat sparkled in the moonlight and gave it an ethereal aura. Its steps were careful. Almost like it didn’t want to alert anyone of its presence. For that realization, I had to give all the credit to its rider— who was equally as large as the horse it seemed. He, too, was shrouded in all-black. His long, overcoat was tailored perfectly to his body. It accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. He had thick, long legs that hung on either side of the horse. He wore black, freshly shined boots on each gigantic foot.

Although, it felt as though my eyes were deceiving me.

Despite how close the man was getting to me, I still couldn’t make out his head. I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or even get a general outline of his face. I squinted my eyes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of something.

It wasn’t until the horse made it about six feet away from the house that I realized that I wasn’t going crazy.

The lone horseman was completely headless.

A wave of fear coursed through my body and I felt myself rise from my chair. I made a beeline to the front door and yanked it open. I shoved my body inside the home and swiftly locked the door behind me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest at the sound of his heavy boots climbing the porch steps. My breath had become uneven from the sounds of my erratic panting. My hands were trembling as I slipped the phone from my cardigan’s pocket and unlocked it. I pressed the little phone icon and began to dial for the police.

But, then, the moment I went to press the phone to my ear, I heard the sound of receding footsteps.

It took all the courage in me to crawl to the window and peer out of it. I had caught a swift glimpse of the horseman mounting his horse, before directing it back down the driveway. Just as swiftly as they appeared the man and his horse disappeared. Leaving me alone once again. I took the phone away from my ear and hung up the call. After another minute or so, I unlocked the door and stepped onto the porch. I looked back at the driveway once more; a frugal effort to ensure that he was truly gone.

He was.

As much as I wanted to ponder why out of all places he came here, to my cabin, I couldn’t. The reason was sitting directly in front of me. Just three feet from the door sat my ring. A friendship that Trista and Jessica both wore as well. We had gotten them right after graduating college. It was a vow to always stay true to one another and to work things out when things had gotten hard. It felt more like an empty promise these days though. I didn’t even notice I had lost the gold band. My mind must’ve been so numb from their fallacious activities that it didn’t even process that it was gone. Even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have looked for it. It didn’t matter to me anymore.

Next to the ring sat a bouquet of wildflowers. The huge bundle was made up of blue and white blossoms. Their scent was sweet and clean. It eased into the nostrils and hardly ever lingered. It made my heart flutter ever so slightly; temporarily lifting the sorrow from it. A tingling sensation bloomed within my chest. It was almost identical to what I had been feeling in the lake earlier when I had put my hand in the water. The tingles gave me comfort. Almost like I had been experiencing the beginnings of a new relationship. As much as I wanted to be mad at the feeling, I couldn’t. My capacity for feeling my emotions had already been filled to the brim. I no longer had the mental space to process this ordeal. I would simply have to wait until I was no longer burnt out to confront the horseman.

Every night the headless stranger would stop by. And every night he would bring me a gift. It was usually in the form of flowers. Fragrant and wild. They filled the small cabin with their scent and added a homey feel to the place. The flowers were a wonderful distraction from the loneliness that remained in my heart. They brightened the rainy days and gave me something to hope for. The mudslide had seemed to have gotten worse with the constant showers. More and more debris had filled the road, making it even harder to leave. The rain had limited our outdoor activity, as well, and forced me inside the force. I couldn’t even use the beautiful scenery to distract from the betrayal anymore. I was trapped.

By the fourth night of spending a whole day pretending to be fine, I found myself on the porch once again. There were no tears in my eyes that time, though. I was all cried out. The sadness had moved from my heart and unrooted an emotion I tended to avoid: anger. I started to become angry that my “friends” had thought so little of me; how they had the gall to sneak around right under my nose and think it was perfectly acceptable to do so.

I don’t know if it was being trapped in the house or the cold, rainy days, but I could hear them messing around almost every night. I heard almost every pleasurable sigh, bed creak, and intense squeal through my very thin wall. It was so infuriating. I wanted nothing more than to just bang on the wall and ask them to stop. Or, at least, take it down to the basement where I wouldn’t hear them. There was an escape from their constant torment. It wasn’t the loving glances and gentle hand brushes in the day— then it was the aggressive humping and loud moaning at night. I was reminded of their betrayal every second of the hour and I was slowly losing my mind because of it.

I was so deep in thought on the fourth night that I didn’t notice the horseman’s presence, until after he placed the flowers on the porch’s steps. Their bright yellow petals had torn me from my reverie and brought me back to reality. The hulking figure had stood several paces away from the steps. His hands were crossed against his chest and there was a slight tilt in his body. If he had a face, I imagined it could have been a quizzical look upon it. He’d seemed rather confused, yet intrigued at the sight before him. The image of a relatively young woman, adorned in a silk nightgown and robe, pacing back and forth on a front porch. It was way past midnight and the air was borderline arctic. Yet, she still decided to wear a fashionable outfit while mumbling to herself like a crazy person. I am sure any given person would have stopped and stared at me if they had the chance. Even if they had been a ghost.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the realization of his presence finally hit me.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I hissed, taking a step back. “Where the hell did you come from? Sneaking up on me like a ghost in the night.”

I mumbled the last bit under my breath, but the headless horseman seemed to have heard it anyway.

He gestured to his body, lifting both hands up and down at the same. Almost as if to say, “Don’t you see me? I am the ghost in the night.” The last part was solidified by the gesturing of the empty space between his shoulders; right where his head was supposed to be. The movements were playful. Some would say they were even comical, but they still didn’t get much out of me. Not a laugh, nor a giggle. Just a slight smirk and a shaking of my head.

“I’m gonna have to get you a bell or something so I know you’re close by.”

He gestured to the massive black stallion tied to a nearby tree.

“Oh yeah. . . I forgot about that. Good point,” I replied, scratching the back of my head. “I really must’ve been out of it, huh? I didn’t even hear the heavy hooves of that big ass horse over there. Well, shit. I really made myself an easy target, didn’t I?”

The horseman gestured to his belt. It carried several weapons, such as an axe and a revolver. The second movement was something I didn’t realize he knew. He puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips. He assumed the Superman stance— the pose made more clear by the way his jacket blew back in the wind. That was something I couldn’t help but smile at. It seemed that he had been trying his best to make light of the situation. From the comical gestures to how he stood a good five feet away from the porch. It felt like the horseman didn’t want to impose, but he also didn’t want me to dwell on something so upsetting. The realization had struck a chord with me. The fact that a ghost could pick up my change in attitude and my friends did not was eye-opening. It was downright alarming. It just solidified to me that they had truly been on another planet. Never mind the fact that I had only officially met the headless stranger several days prior.

“So, you’ll protect me, hmm?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and tilting my head. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The being lowered his hands to his hips and took several paces to the porch steps. He lifted the bouquet from the polished wood and gently passed the bundle to me. I took the yellow daisies and brought them to my nose. Their scent was fresh and inviting— almost like new love. There were hints of chamomile within its petals, although I couldn’t stop the little flowers anywhere. I watched as the hulking figure lowered himself onto one knee and placed a hand on his chest. He outstretched the other towards me, his fingers spread and his gloved palm open.

The love confession, as simple as it may be, made my heart flutter.

It hadn’t taken long for me to realize just how meaningful the horseman was. He relied heavily on his actions to perpetuate his feelings. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to tell a lover white lies to pass the time. Perhaps it was the absence of his head that forced the notion, but I appreciated all the same. He seemed authentic and raw in his sentiment. He probably couldn’t lie, even if he wanted to. The movements of his figure would give it away. It was easy to lie using your vocal cords, it was even harder to lie through body language. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why I had entertained this attraction for the past several days. Not only did it serve as a distraction from my dishonest vacation buddies, but it felt genuine. It felt so fucking real in a world of grey skies and black smoke. The Headless Horseman was the only one expressing his true self these days, the only one unable to lie to me. Although, I am pretty certain he wouldn’t want to if he had the option. He was a gentleman above anything else, and he wasn’t the type of guy to misdirect his lady.

The longer I looked at him, the more my heart pounded. A million thoughts exploded through my mind at once. The main one was how I only had two more days left of this vacation and how I would probably put this place behind me— due to the unfortunate actions of my friends. It almost saddened me that I would never be able to see someone as sweet as the horseman again. It was truly insane how a ghost knew the art of courtship better than the living, breathing humans I accompanied on the daily. Yet, I digress. The second thought was of my friends upstairs. There was no doubt in my mind that the act they were engaging in was somewhere between sinful and unholy. They had been fucking like rabbits since the mudslide happened. However, the judgment in my being was beginning to subside.

Sure, I didn’t hand a human participant to engage in such disgusting activities.

But, I did have a ghost.

A sexy one, at that.

Call it petty, but, I had a sudden taste for vengeance.

“Mister Horseman?” I hesitated.

He rose from the ground and took several steps closer to me. It was just until his shins were touching the bottom step of the porch. Still, he opted to keep his distance. Just like the gentleman he was. Even after all that time, he worried he might scare me.

I lowered the flowers back onto the floor and proceeded to untie my silk robe— ever so slowly. I allowed the garment to fall to the crooks of my elbows and expose my bare shoulders. My nipples pebbled in the cool night air and a shiver crept down my spine. I saw his body tense at the sight of my exposed skin and his hand balled into a fist. Hollow breaths fell from my lips as I took several steps back. They weren’t out of fear, no. They were to add to the art of seduction. I pulled the silk bonnet off my head and allowed my goddess braids to flow down my back. I saw his chest rise and fall at a rapid rate. Despite him having no head, it seemed that the horseman was struggling to breathe. It was an intriguing sight.

“Allow me to be the first to say that the feeling is mutual,” I said, breathlessly. “I, too, hold a certain affection for you.”

His body leaned closer and began to tremble after digesting the words.

“However, unlike you, I was not blessed enough to show my talents through crafts,” I said, gesturing to the bouquet on the ground. “I was blessed in other ways. Ways that I can only show you upstairs, in my bedroom. And I would have no problem showing you—”

His gloved hands were on my body before I could finish the sentence. I could feel the cool leather through the soft silk against my hips. He held the plush area firmly, hesitant to bring any lower. The horseman was testing the waters, attempting to see just how comfortable I was with him. I brought his palms lower and slid them to my backside. I guided them to my plump rear and assisted in his grabbing of it. A soft gasp fell from my lips as I felt him reciprocate the action on his own. Gently, he massaged the plump muscle, bringing my body slower the longer he did it. About thirty seconds later, my chest was pressed against the top of his abdomen, and my arms were drabbed over his shoulders.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I purred, pulling away to open the door.

The horseman, quickly, pulled me back against his body and lifted me in one fell swoop. My thighs rested on either side of his slender waist and ankles locked just above his rear. My arms immediately gripped his shoulders, while one of his arms wrapped around me— holding my body completely steady. He used his other hand to open the front door quietly and let us both inside the cabin. He took careful steps; I could barely hear his footfalls on the hardwood floor.

“My room is upstairs,” I whispered. “It’s the third door on the left.”

The horseman took silent steps up the creaky old stairs. Both hands were around me now. He caressed my back sweetly as we ascended to my room. If he had a mouth, I was sure he’d hum a loving tune in my ear. My heart couldn’t help but sway at the action. It had only been a few minutes of him embracing me and I was already starting to fall for him. Maybe it was loneliness or the betrayal that left me so sensitive, but I couldn’t help myself. The horseman was simply too impactful.

However, the temporary bliss was cut short by the sight of Trista’s cracked door. Just as I had expected, lustful sounds danced from within the room and caressed my ears. I could feel my expression immediately drop at the sound. My inference had been correct. They were still, in fact, fucking like rabbits. As much as I would’ve loved to side my expression, I couldn’t. The horseman's face, or lack thereof, was right next to mine— meaning that he saw everything.

Instead of simply ignoring it, he gripped my body tighter and took quicker steps down the hall. He, still, didn’t make a sound. He walked right through my open door and gently lowered me onto the bed. He stood before me for several seconds, taking in the sight before him. A significantly smaller woman, adorned in lace and silk, with a face stricken with sorrow. I doubt that it was a pretty sight, though his actions said otherwise.

The horseman shrunk down to the floor before me and placed his hands on my knees. He slowly pushed them apart. Unlike the men before him, the horseman didn’t dive right in and reach for the slick lips underneath my silk skirt. He placed his body between my separated thighs and placed his hands on my hips. Gently, he moved them up my soft sides and back, just before stopping at my collarbones. With the cool leather of his glove, he caressed the soft area. The horseman gradually moved his embrace up my neck and to my jaw. His thumb ran across my bottom lip tenderly and sent shivers through my body. His other hand gripped the side of my face and started to brush against my cheek. I felt my eyes close at the action. My heart was warm and my mind was beginning to ease. The irritating sounds from earlier had left my mind and been replaced with a sense of tranquility. It was strange how someone so mythical was able to get such a reaction out of me. Especially after just knowing him for a few days.

“Let me feel you,” I said, opening my eyes. “Let me feel your skin against mine.”

The word “please” lingered after those sentences, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. I wasn’t the kind of woman to beg anyone to do anything for me. And I wouldn’t be starting now.

I felt him tense at the rest, almost as if he hadn’t expected it. Or, he just didn’t want to do it. Yet, he still obliged with my request.

Slowly, the ghost removed his hands from my face and placed them on my lap. He started on his right hand; pinching each finger and pulling it away from the skin. When each digit was loose, he pulled the glove off his hand with an air of hesitation. Clumsily, the leather garment was removed from his palm and tossed aside. Underneath was a stark, pale, icy-cold hand covered in an array of scars. His fingers seemed to be trembling slightly. His sensitivity to rejection was prevalent and made itself known to me. I took the massive palm into my hands. I bent the fingers at the knuckles just slightly before pressing a sweet kiss on the chilly surface. My eyes instinctively zeroed in on the empty space his head used to be. I stared at it, imagining it was actually there.

“You’re beautiful,” I found myself saying. “Scars and all. I accept you as you are. Thank you for sharing your body with me.”

A wave of relaxation overtook his rigid demeanor. His body eased into the confines of my own, before wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. It was a simple hug, yet it felt like so much more. It was the only way he could possibly show affection without easing into a carnal activity. The absence of lips had made this rendezvous so much more difficult. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth against his and press his against mine. I wanted my hands to be in his hair, while he roamed underneath my skirt and beneath my thighs. I wanted to be as close to him as physically, and maybe spiritually, possible. But, I had to settle for a hug instead. I wrapped my arms around the undead man tightly and simply took in the moment.

Upon releasing me from the embrace, the horseman pressed a tender hand to my chest and pushed my body back. It was until my back hit the mattress. Then, he slowly pushed the wrinkled, skirt from my ankles up to my rear. I placed the bottoms of my feet at the edge of the bed, just to give him more access. Nestled between two soft thighs was my womanhood. Damp, curly, and absent of panties. The grip that the horseman had on my thighs firmed and I watched his chest expand. Almost as if he were holding his breath. He quickly removed the second glove before getting to work. The icy finger brushed against the hot vulva and caused me to shiver. A pleasurable sigh fell from my lips as I relaxed completely atop the bed.

His gentle digits proceeded to separate the lower lips and expose the sensitive bud beneath. Before touching the throbbing clit, the horseman slid his thumb along my slit. He gathered all the lovely slick my walls produced on the thumb’s pad, before swirling it along my bud. I hissed at the feeling of his finger against me. The cold sensation was making my walls spasm a little. He rubbed my bud in large circles. The horseman added just the right amount of pressure to have me moaning up a storm. At some point, I lowered my bent knees to a wide ‘v’ shape and gave him more access to me. My hips rolled and bucked against his hand, desperately wanting more than he had to offer. Like a friendly visitor, one of his fingers tapped against my entrance. It was his silent way of asking for my permission.

“Yes,” I sighed. “Put it in.”

The thick finger eased into the slick center and I felt my world come crashing down. The coolness of his digit in my hot crevice was something I couldn’t mentally fathom. It was foreign and almost bizarre, yet I couldn’t stop myself. It swiftly became addicting. The horseman added another finger and flexed the digits upward— pressing directly against the g-spot. My legs twitched and my breath started to hollow. The movements of his fingers were stern, not rough. They were meant to hammer the sensitive area— they were supposed to massage it. The skill in his fingers was something of a legend. They stretched the walls within, ever so gracefully. They prepped me for the awaiting member I already caught a glimpse of moments before. From the imprint it made on his trousers, it was big and girthy. It would probably tear me in half without the right preparation. Yet, despite how intimidating the semi-hard member seemed through the fabric, I couldn’t have been more excited about it.

The orgasm was deep and erotic. And completely took me by surprise. It unearthed something divine within my womanhood and presented it to the horseman. My back arched against the bed as my mouth grew wider. My moans bounced on the walls as the orgasm nipped at my heels. The warm sensation in my belly grew wider until my entire body was on fire as a result. My fingers dug into the bedsheets as my toes curled and my body shook. My eyes were squeezed shut and my breathing grew erratic. My legs twitched and vibrated against the horseman’s forearm. He had to remove the thumb from my clit to hold my left leg.

“Oh Dear God. . .” I slurred as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

The movements of his hands never stopped, they only made the orgasm longer and more powerful. I was seeing stars in my mind as my slick coated his hands. Thick cream oozed from my cunt as my body started to settle against the mattress. The after-effects of the climax started to wear down on my nerves. After some time, the ghost removed his cool finger from my center. He massaged the soft flesh of my thighs for a little while, before rising to his crouched position on the floor. I plopped my body onto my elbows and watched as he began to disrobe. The heavy, wool cloak was removed from his broad shoulder. Underneath was a stark white shirt and silk suit vest. Slowly, the ghost undid the buttons of both garments. Taking special care of the flawless pieces as he did so. Just as his hands, his chest was covered in an array of scars. They are arranged in size, shape, and depth. My heart sunk at the sight of them in the pale moonlight.

It was unclear whether or not he received them all at once, but one thing was certain. The Headless Horseman had a very rough life. Underneath the scars was a body I hardly expected. Almost every muscle along his figure was pronounced. From his rock-hard abs to his rippling arm muscles. Every last one was on perfect display for me to see. And what a beautiful sight it was.

His shoes were the next thing to come off. Followed by his pants. It felt like that bit was in slow motion. He unbuckled the silver belt buckles and undid the closure with ease. Slowly, as if he knew I was watching, the horseman pushed his pants down his thick thighs and forced them into a puddle on the floor. Just as I expected, the member was big and girthy. It seemed the nickname “horseman” was a double entender. Even in the pale moonlight, I could see the pre-cum leaking from his slit. It painted the brown tip gloriously and made it glisten. One of his wide palms inched down to his member and took a firm hold of it. I watched him stroke the member slowly. It felt like he was seducing me. Fortunately for him, it was working. He took several slow steps toward my body, I could feel my heart pound in response. Before we did any more damage to my favorite nightie, I lifted the silk garment off my body and tossed it aside. I, also, scooted back against the bed; in able to give the horseman more room to work.

The ghost proceeded to crawl against the fluffy mattress, flexing every muscle in his body as he did so. Groans left my mouth at the sight. I had never seen something so sexy in my life. Before long, his cool hands were pressed against my thick form once more. In one swift motion, the horseman spun me on my stomach and angled my hips in the air. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening, since his hands were palming my ass. He squeezed and massaged the soft tissue in a way I didn’t expect. He seemed completely mesmerized by it. Maybe it was the size or how soft it felt in his grip, but the horseman couldn’t get enough.

I giggled at the notion. “You could give it a smack if you want,” I said, wiggling my hips against his palms. “I won’t mind.”

The ghost paused the massaging of the rear and hesitantly raised his hand from my right cheek. He proceeded to give me the softest spank I had ever received in my life. I couldn’t help but erupt in a fit of laughter.

“You can do better than that,” I chuckled. “I’m a big girl, horseman. I handle a little pain.”

With a firm hand, the horseman spanked my ass once again. The feeling was somewhat indescribable. I had never been one for experiencing pain during sex, but being with him was starting to make me think otherwise. The sheer sting of the hit was enough to make my walls clench. He seemed to have noticed it as well. A shocked moan fell from my lips when the horseman did it again. That time, it was placed on the left cheek. A buzz of electricity coursed through my being with the second hit. My walls were oozing for him to invade them. The desire to be torn apart by the horse cock between his legs was growing greater by the second. The closer our bodies became, the more I wanted him. There was a force that was drawing us together. Something completely mythical and absolutely otherworldly. It felt like it was trying to tell us something.

But, I couldn’t decipher the message.

At least, not yet.

The moment he sunk into me I could feel my nerves begin to sing. The coldness of his body against my hot one was something divine. I pressed my face deeper into the pillows as he gave me everything he had. And it was a lot. It stretched me in either direction and made my canal spasm as a result. His cock pushed against every pressure point within my womanhood and I knew, then, that it would simply destroy me. I brought a shaky hand between my thighs as he started to rock against me. I rubbed my bud in lazy circles, a frugal effort to aid in my adjustment to his size. Low mewls fell from my lips as the thrusts started to increase in speed. The horseman had both hands on my hips as he moved against me. His hips rolled against my ass in a wave-like motion. The horseman didn’t seem interested in ‘fucking’ me, per se. He had no interest in giving me all that he had and shoving me into the mattress. When he moved against me, it didn’t feel like he was using my body. I didn’t feel like a tool to assist in his cardinal desires. He treated me like a prize; as if I was the main attraction. Even without a mouth, the horseman had communicated his intentions clearly.

He wanted me as a potential lover, not as a passing phase.

His actions— from the beautiful bouquets to the way he fingered me— were an act of courtship. Even with his member buried in my pussy, the ghost was still courting me. The rolling of his hips against my cunt and the soft grip on my hips were examples of that. Again, the horseman had no intention of ‘just’ fucking me. He wanted more. So, this little rendezvous was the perfect opportunity to express that. Rather than use me like a living, breathing fleshlight, the horseman decided to make love to me. He was proposing what a union could be like between us. Without saying a word, the horseman was explaining to me that I was capable of having both a lovely companion and a seductive paramour. He showed me that it was possible for me to have a gentleman that would get me flowers, and fuck me within an inch of my life.

Suddenly, a warm sensation started to flutter about my body. It gave me an air of comfort that I never experienced before. It gradually started to pool in my stomach, making my tummy feel warm in the process. The muscles in my body started to tense up and my grip on the mattress tightened. The breath in my throat grew thicker and my eyes fell shut. The gentle sound of the wind was the only thing to grace my ears. Every other sound drifted away. I could no longer hear the bed creaking beneath us, or the headboard hitting the wall. I wouldn’t hear my desperate gasps or the sound of our wet bodies hitting each other. Most importantly, I couldn’t hear the sapphic lovers enjoying themselves next door. At that point, their union no longer mattered to me. It was swiftly becoming something old and stale. Their betrayal was the most mundane thing to happen since we entered Evergreen County. In less than a week, I had a natural disaster grace my path, discovered that mythical beings existed, and was actively pursued by one. Not only that, but he was a better lover and companion than everyone before him.

Maybe I was entering my fifth stage of grief or maybe I was delusional, but I was swiftly getting over it.

“That’s it. . .” I grunted, my body still tense. “Keep going. . . I’m so close.”

The ghostly gentleman squeezed my hips tighter at the request. He kept his deep, seductive pace— not changing it one bit. If the arrangement was different, if he had a head, I knew the horseman would be the kind of guy to talk me through it. He’d whisper sweetnothings in my ear, calling me “beautiful” and “gorgeous”, while turning me into a slobbering, cock-hungry slut. He’d have a tongue like a snake, sneaky and deceptive. The horseman would never get rid of me if I could hear him speak. I’d never leave Evergreen County, even if my life depended on it.

The water in the shallow pool slipped over the edge and sent me into a spiral. The orgasm was deep, slow, and soul-wrenching. It unearthed something downright feral from my being. A low, groan poured from my mouth as I subconsciously threw my hips back to meet his. My mouth hung open like a bitch in heat and drool poured from the side of my mouth. My eyes rolled back until the whites were the only thing visible. Oxygen came rushing into my throat all at once. My throat started to heave and my heart began to pound in my chest. It was so loud. It began the only thing I could hear for a short while.

I didn’t even register that the horseman had changed positions. He hoisted my body from the bed and pressed my back against his chest. He hooked his left arm across my body and gently cupped my right breast in the process. His right arm wrapped around my waist, while his right hand gripped my hip. The ghost sunk back on his heels and separated his thighs a little bit more. My ass sat comfortably on his lap and his cock felt deeper than before. My walls were still fluttering when he started to move. The pace was faster than before. His hips moved like a piston, almost mechanical and precise. I could feel the head of his cock hammer the underside of my cervix. The pleasure point was getting obliterated at record time. The warm, fuzzy post-orgasm feeling had swiftly left my body. It was replaced with a burning hot desire that I, sadly, recognized. It was a feeling I had grown accustomed to in the short time our bodies were joined. The horseman was the only being to make me feel such cardinal desires. He was the walking epitome of sex, despite not having a head. Sex with him didn’t feel like a chore. It was an experience. An activity both parties could enjoy. And I was enjoying myself more than he could ever know.

It wasn’t long before his quick, machine-like thrust turned sloppy and clumsy. I could feel his lips begin to twitch the longer he pounded into my pussy. He was reaching his limit. I could feel the rapid pace at which his chest rose and fell against my back. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. At the front of my mind, I knew the horseman wasn’t alive. I knew he was a ghost, a headless one at that. However, I couldn’t process the feeling of humility I had gotten from him. The coldness I first felt when he touched me was no longer present. His body felt warm and inviting. It even had a thin sheet of sweat on it, just like mine. It could have been the crazy sex hormones coursing through my body, but it felt like the horseman was slowly becoming human.

I didn’t have to time to analyze the thought any further before the third climax came knocking at my womanhood. It was somehow even more powerful than the ones before. My entire body trembled as I came undone against the horseman. A loud, pleasurable scream flowed from my lips as I threw my head back. My hips bucked against his lap as liquid shot out of my cunt and coated his rod. My nails dug into his warm flesh as I rode out my high. The massive member began to vibrate and twitch within me. Shortly afterward, thick ropes of cum coated my slick walls. I groaned at the sensation. The horseman continued to pound into my used pussy until he physically couldn’t anymore. His body, also, trembled and shook against mine. The lasting effects of overstimulation eating away at his feral demeanor. His sloppy thrusts came to a slow stop and his arms loosened their grip.

The horseman repositioned our bodies for the final time that night.

With both of us on our sides and my face buried in his chest— I had never felt more content in my life.

I awoke to a gentle kiss placed on my forehead. Followed by another on the tip of my nose and one on each eyelid. A soft hand readjusted the silk bonnet on my head, before capturing the side of my face in its palm. It was warm, familiar, and inviting. I found my sleepy form leaning into it, nestling against it for comfort. Slowly, my tired eyes eased open. The bright sunlight forced me to immediately shut them and groan in annoyance. The thumb, attached to the warm palm, gently caressed my face. It stroked my cheek lovingly, before moving over to my lips. Tenderly, the digit ran across my bottom lip; sending shivers through my body once again.

Once again?

The memory of the horseman’s gentle fingers immediately came to mind. How they caressed my face and neck, before easing down to my cunt. The feeling of his thumb running against my lips was identical to the sensation I was feeling now. But, something was different about it. There wasn’t a sadness in the touch as it was before— only anticipation. As if he was waiting to finally kiss me after the night we had. That would’ve been impossible, given his current disposition. It would be impossible to share a kiss with the horseman since he was without the equipment necessary to achieve said embrace. Unless he managed to grow a head at some point during the night—

“Open your eyes, darling.” The voice was deep and smooth, like an aged wine. It brought pleasure to my eardrums and made my heart sing.

Upon easing my eyes open, I was graced with the most beautiful man I had ever seen. The warm sunlight gave his pale skin an ethereal glow. His deep, brown eyes shined like ambers in the light. He had high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Resting above a very pronounced chin was a pair of plump lips. They were soft and had a pinkish hue to them. Above them was his nose; it was straight and came to a subtle point. The shape of his eyes was narrow and just above them were a set of thin, blond brows. They matched the messy blond hair atop his head.

A smile spread upon his lips. “Good Morning, little owl,” he purred, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “How did you sleep?”

I matched the smile on his face. “I slept well,” I replied. “It’s great to finally see you. All of you.”

“And what a marvel it is to be seen by you,” he hummed, lovingly.

Hesitantly, I raised a gentle hand to his face. My warm fingers brushed against his plump lips; a weak attempt to determine if I had been dreaming.

I was not. This was all 100% real.

“You know,” I started, combing through his soft locks. “I have a lot of questions about. . . this.”

“I’m sure you do,” he smirked. “And I am more than happy to answer every last one of them.”

“Quite the charmer you are,” I quipped. “I bet you have all the ladies losing their heads over you.”

A deep, guttural laugh erupted from the man above me. It warmed my heart.

“You are quite the jokester, aren’t you?” He replied when he finally died down. “On the contrary, it was the exact opposite. I lost my head for a lady.”

A frown took over my face. “I’m sorry.”

The horseman used the awkwardness of the conversation to adjust his position above me. He slumped into the space on my left side and pulled me closer. His stronger arms cradled my soft body against his hard one. My bare chest was pressed against his and our legs were intertwined. It was painfully obvious that we were both quite naked underneath the covers. I could feel a familiar friend begin to twitch against my right thigh. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for another round. Sure my body was on fire and there was a subtle ache in my walls, but the feeling of that man against me was something I wanted to relive. Especially now that I had something to look at.

The horseman was so pretty that it fucking hurt my feelings.

“It was a long time ago,” he sighed, stroking my cheek. “I hardly ever think about it anymore.”

“But. . .” I hesitated. “How were you able to wander around without your head?”

He thought for a minute. A sour look overtook his look of contentment. There was also a hint of shame in his eyes as well. Whatever he was about to say, he was deathly embarrassed about it.

“I made a bargain with the forest guardian as I was dying,” he admitted after some time. “I asked her for a chance to walk the earth again. To experience the love I had just previously lost again. Even after all she had done, I still loved my wife and I wanted to get back to her. The forest guardian must’ve been sympathetic and granted me one more night on this plane. In exchange, I was to be her servant and guard the north side of the forest until she no longer needed me. However, like most bargains, there would be a catch. I was to remain headless and walk the forest until the end of time.”

“But, what changed?” I asked, hanging on the edge of my seat. “Why do you have a head all of a sudden? After all that time has passed?”

The warm smile from earlier reappeared on his lips and the horseman pulled me closer. “You came into my life and changed everything.”

“How?” I said. “I didn’t even do anything.”

“That’s the point. You did nothing to warrant such devious actions from your friends, yet you still got betrayed. As did I,” he answered. “We share a pain known to many but not often spoken about it. The loss of a community. I could feel that pain the day you were in the boat. It drew me to you. I watched you cry from the shadows and my heart bled for you. I wanted to make you feel better by any means necessary and I heard flowers would do the trick.”

“So you started making me bouquets,” I interjected.

The horseman nodded. “But, I think it was your acceptance of me that freed me from servitude. Your words last night were genuine, along with your actions. You meant what you said and it thawed my frozen heart. I no longer wanted to live in solitude, roaming the forest for the rest of eternity. I wanted to be in love. You made me want to love again.”

I raised a shaky hand to his cheek and stroked it lovingly. “This is a lot to take in. There’s so much I to say, but I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about we start with our names?” The horseman suggested. “My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”

---------------------

a/n: long time no see! I missed y'all! this took longer than i expected, but i hope it is to your linking. please give you sis some feedback! i wanna hear what you think. also, please vote for what piece you'd like to see me upload next!

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until next time! see you later!

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johnwickb1tsch · 8 months ago

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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 33 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

As it turns out, the Underworld provides a whole slew of services designed to deal with circumstances just like this. Medical care, emergency home repair–and body disposal, all for the price of a handful of gold coins.

You sit with John as a man your lover so descriptively calls Doc sews up Wick’s wounds. There is blood on your face, and your silk pjs. Dog sits on your foot, clearly anxious about letting either one of you out of his sight. In the same spirit, John’s good hand is clasped in yours, or yours in his–neither of you have been able to let go.

Another man known simply as Charlie orchestrates the removal of the collection of corpses through the house. Yet more tattooed tradesmen work on boarding up the blown out window in the kitchen with a big piece of plywood.

It’s a miracle, really, the house didn’t burn down.

“Thought you’d left all this behind you, John?” asks Doc, making a neat knot in the former assassin’s side.

“So did I.”

“What will you do?”

“The same thing I always do when I’m lost. Talk to Winston.”

The two men share a snort of laughter you don’t entirely understand.

When Doc finishes with John he gives you a bottle of pain meds, and a bottle of what are, as far as you can tell, pharmacy grade amphetamines. “In case he has to work again.” You take them with wide eyes and a nod, praying to whatever devil might be listening that that won’t be necessary.

You’re fairly certain that no one up above is interested in any of you anymore.

You killed a man.

You killed a man with a gun to save John, and you do not feel sorry at all.

Numb, perhaps, but not sorry.

John groans as he adjusts himself on the couch. You reach out to steady him, helping him best you can. He is heavy, and you look at the stairs with doubt. “Maybe we should sleep down here tonight?”

He blinks at you, undoubtedly thinking you incredibly naïve. “We can’t stay here, baby. It’s not safe.”

“Where will we go?”

“We’re going to the city,” says John, sounding weary as a man twice his age. “I know a place. Can you drive?”

You have to admit you’re a little dizzy from the whiplash. In the span of a few hours, you’ve gone from being locked up like a princess in the castle, to murdering a man, and now John is going to let you drive?

He must read the blatant surprise on your face. He doesn’t like it, his grip tightening on your hand. “These are bad, bad men who would eat you for breakfast. You’ve got to stick with me.”

You bristle at this, because even though you absolutely should be thinking about escape? You’re not. You were thinking about how you were going to manage taking care of him in this state, and it pisses you off that he’s still so fucking worried about controlling you that he can’t see the writing written in blood on the wall.

Or at least, written in blood, on the kitchen floor.

“You asshole,” you say for the second time tonight. It wins you a lordly scowl that for some fucked up reason thrills you to the tips of your toes. But it’s too late to turn back now. “Were you there, when I fucking shot a man for you? Maybe this is just business as usual for you, but it’s fucking new to me.”

He clenches his other fist on his knee, seeming to count to ten with his eyes closed. “I’m sorry,” he finally grinds out. “I know…Are you alright?”

You guess that you put up a good enough front that he forgot that maybe he should ask. Good on you. Maybe.

“No, not really,” you answer truthfully. “But I don’t have any choice, do I?”

He actually has the grace to cast his eyes down, seeming to really think on what you’re saying. “You had a choice,” he muses quietly, his thumb sliding over your knuckles. “In the kitchen.”

You stroke Dog’s head for something to do with your other hand, which is shaking. Your thundering heart beats painfully in your chest. From the corner of your eye you take in this anomaly of a man. This man, who kidnapped you, who has been playing mental games with you for months, who has kept you prisoner, who has taken your body to heights you never even knew were possible, who has spoiled you, who has adored you and degraded you all in the same breath–this man, who somehow, you know you love with your whole heart.

“John…” He tilts his head to look at you, his eyes glazed with pain. You’re not sure if it’s physical or mental at this point. “Did you really think I could shoot you?”

Perhaps he did, because in his mind, the only acceptable answer to a wrong against you is murder.

Perhaps in the brutal world he’s occupied since he was just a child, it is.

Suddenly he can’t meet your eyes. “Maybe I would deserve it, y/n.”

The fact that he knows that is definitely a good sign.

But the tricky truth is–it wasn’t all bad. And the good? The good was almost worth the bad, you dare to think now that you’ve survived it. You know better than to say that, because you know you are in the midst of a negotiation right now.

“I love our life together, when you’re sweet to me, John. I only want to murder you when you boss me around. And I only mean that figuratively.”

A huff of laughter escapes him; there is a glimmer of hope in his miserable dark eyes. You know it’s insane, after everything he’s done, but you feel sorry for this man.

“If you would just treat me as an equal, instead of constantly trying to control me…” I’ll be your ride or die. You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud yet. He already has enough power over you. “Do you think…that’s something we can work on?”

He could have pushed you over with a feather, when slowly he nods, bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them. “If you don’t want to murder me after everything I’ve done to you…maybe anything is possible.”

You on the other hand, can only blink. Did you just hear what you think you heard?

That blood-pressure induced ringing has returned to your ears again. The explosion and gunfire surely didn’t help, but somehow this is far more momentous to you. Your surprise for the magnitude of this admission surprises you, and you must show it in the lift of your brows. It makes him smile ruefully; you’re not sure why the sight of it squeezes your heart so.

You are not so stupid as to think this traumatic event has healed him miraculously, knocked some loose screw back into place. The mind doesn’t work like that. But just maybe, it did put some things into perspective. You are allies now against a mutual cause, rather than enemies of each other. And just maybe, when you tell him that you don’t want to leave him, he will actually believe you from now on.

“Anyway…I can drive the Rover…” you say with confidence, even though you are still utterly flabbergasted he’d even give you the opportunity. “I don’t know about the ‘Stang.” The Mustang you think you could manage in an emergency, but it’s been a long time since you had to drive a stick, and being responsible for his baby doesn’t sit well with you.

“That will do.” He grumbles, mostly to himself, “I’ve got to teach you to drive. There is so much I need to teach you.”

You’re not sure what he means by that. You are too tired to hash it out completely right now, but you sense that something, a whole lot of something, has changed in the past few hours between you.

He makes to get to his feet with a groan–and can’t quite. “Maybe I am too old for this shit,” he grouses.

“John, you got shot, stabbed, and fought off ten heavily armed assassins. I think you can count tonight as a win.”

Again, that bitter huff of laughter escapes him. You help John to his feet, trying to steady him as best you can. If he’d injured one of his legs badly you would be so fucked; there was no way you could carry him.

“Um…who were they?” You realize you haven’t even talked about who was just trying to kill him. You suppose you already think you know the answer, but then again you could be wrong.

“Camorra goons, I’m pretty sure,” hisses John, clearly in pain. “Guess I should have kept someone alive for questioning…I’ve always been bad at that.”

You press your lips, because it shouldn’t be funny…but if you don’t laugh about it, you might cry. Your life has been so weird lately, it almost just seems par for the course in a way.

“John…” you chortle and sigh. “Surely the d’Antonio kid gets the picture now? You’ve killed everyone he’s sent after you? Why can’t these assholes just leave you alone?” Why the prince of the Camorra would court such trouble is beyond you.

“Good question.” He groans as he takes a step, his good arm slung over your shoulder. “The young ones, especially the second or third generation, think they have to prove themselves. Or maybe…he loved his mother and wants me dead. It’s a faint possibility.”

“Italian boys and their mothers.”

John chuckles a little, then winces. “Please, sweetheart,” he entreats you. “Don’t make me laugh.”

Maybe you are a silly creature, but hearing the endearment for you warms something in your heart that had been left out in the cold for too long. “Fine,” you agree, even though humor is absolutely your biggest coping mechanism. “Tell me what we need to do next?”

“We need to pack.”

“Ok. What?”

“Suits, and guns.”

You guess in a nutshell, that was the essential distillation of his world, once upon a time. Now, quite against your will, you both are being kicked back into it. By the look in John’s dark eyes, for some reason you have a feeling it’s the Camorra who are going to regret it.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x y/n #john wick x you #keanu reeves #john wick fic #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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eleni-cherie · 6 months ago

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a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.7

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

30th December Barcelona, Spain

There was no trace of snow in the foreseeable time and Cassandra's already gloomy mood only dropped more as she averted her eyes from the grey buildings outside.

If it was cold, it should at least snow, she believed. But she knew something like this was impossible for a city right at the mediterranean sea. The only thing they got there was humidity and gusty winds.

It was the day before New Year's eve. The second-last day of the year. One day and eleven hours more and it'd be the next year already.

It was a strange feeling considering to her it didn't feel like a year had passed already. The only evidence it did being the coldness outside that had suddenly picked up in the last two weeks.

She returned to study a patient's file. Today would be another double-shift. Could be worse, at least she wasn't working the next two days.

After asking one of the nurses to give the patient 150mg codeine, she finished her round right on time for her lunch break. Already spotting Stella and one of the assistent surgeons and Stella's on-off-crush, Julio, sitting at a table in the far back of the cafeteria and bickering over something as usual. And Cassandra gave them a quick wave, signalising she'd seen and would join them, before going to pick her lunch. Her stomach was already rumbling when a different kind of buzzing caught her attention then. It was the phone in her pocket.

doc (6:30am): happy birthday, wherever you are :)

cool guy (1:12pm): you remembered! cool guy (1:12pm): thanks :P

Her lips instinctively curled up. It was Taehyung.

It had been a week since they'd last spoken, which wasn't surprising considering he had a different kind of busy life.

At least he took time to ressurface at all. Kind of like a penpal, where she had to wait for his letter to arrive and respond before having to wait yet again. Especially since they were indeed one-sided penpals with him sending her postcards from all the places he visited.

She was used to it, but that didn't mean she wasn't worrying a little whenever a longer period of time passed with no trace of him. Unpredictable things could always occur, despite him and his friends being unmatched in what they did.

doc (1:14pm): ofc i did :O

After typing in her quick reply, she shoved it back into her pocket when it started buzzing again. Perplexed by the unexpected incoming call, she hesitated for a moment before eventually accepting it.

"Hey."

She inhaled with a smile. Something about his smooth voice greeting her so cheerfully always making her a little weak.

"Hey, your timing's as great as ever," she giggled when the line moved and she took a step forward. Hearing his surprised 'Oh?'.

"To what do I owe the honour of this call?"

Taehyung could hear the smirk all the way through the line. Laughing under his breath.

"What do you mean? It's my birthday after all. So I deserve actually hearing your birthday wishes."

She bit back a laugh, having missed his silliness. "Happy birthday, cool guy. Was that all you called for?"

"Almost," he said, his tone turning gentle then,"I also wanted to hear how you were doing."

"Well, I.." she began but paused. 'Fine' was her first instinct, however, she concluded he'd most likely see through her blatant lie, because in all honestly she wasn't doing fine at all. So she settled for a more vague response. "..I'm a little tired. But otherwise everything's fine. How's it there?" She knew he'd never tell her where exactly in the world he was currently at, so she didn't even attempted to find out.

"It's.. yeah, it's great. We're working on something.." His voice faded then and Cassandra was about to carry the conversation to the turn of the year, when he spoke up again. His concerned tone taking her aback."You sure everything's fine?"

She swallowed. No matter how hard she tried, she'd always be an open book to him it seemed. Even when he was miles away.

No, she thought, nothing's fine. I almost lost a patient because of bureaucracy, almost messed up a chest tube on another one, haven't properly slept in days, I'm gonna spend the turn of the year all alone and I'm an idiot because I miss you.

She couldn't bring herself to let any of these words slip from her lips though. She didn't feel like making him feel bad and pity her when he was who-knew-where in the world right now and couldn't do anything for her misery anyway. Besides, she also didn't want to embarrass herself.

"Yeah, it's just, you know, work. It's not always that easy." This wasn't even a lie. But she felt he still wasn't completely sold on it.

"Hm, you sure that's all?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because work's always tough for you but you sound more distressed than usual."

She froze. Did she? She didn't even notice anymore, but others obviously did. Or at least, Taehyung did. So with a sigh she gave in, elaborating more after all. "It does take a toll on me. And tomorrow's New Year's eve, which I can't celebrate with my family and I have no plans, which could be regarded as sad and pitiful by some, but hey! At least I'm not working like some colleagues, so can't complain." Her casual laugh to gloss over her gloominess probably sounded forced. And she licked over her dry lips. "I just didn't want to dump everything on you.. I know you're busy with your own work." Another small giggle getting automatically added at the last words, another poor attempt to save her pride. "Anyway, it's also a shame you can't see your birthday gift, you know? It's pretty mad after all."

"A mad gift, huh?" He played along with her sudden change of topics. Although he could sense there was more to her previous words. "And what gift?"

The line moved and it was almost her turn at the registry, "Never heard of a surprise? You've got to wait until coming here again."

Taehyung scoffed playfully on the other line. "Oh, that's how it is?"

"Of course."

"Alright. I'll hurry up then, I guess."

»»»

31st December

Cassandra usually celebrated this day by playing cards and drinking with her family. Since it wasn't possible this year, she settled for eating a whole pizza by herself and watching one of her comfort shows. The perfect plan really.

It was past 10pm on New Year's Eve now and she was in the middle of her little rewatch party, when the sound of the door bell startled her and she paused the episode.

Cassandra didn't expect seeing anyone that night. Especially since there were barely any hours left till the turn of the year.

A knock at the front door followed then, causing her to tense up even more. She wasn't a particularly fearful or easily scared person. However, due to the late hour and randomness her first instinct was to switch off all lights and remain quiet. Only when an annoyed and whiny: "Cas, open up already! It's cold!" was heard from behind the entrance door, her tense muscles finally relaxed.

The last person she had expected seeing standing in front of her door was Taehyung and yet, there he was. Doing just that with furrowed brows and an amused laugh.

"Were you hiding from me?"

"Wh.. no. No. Well, yeah, but I didn't know it was you," she defended herself with a small pout.

His cheeks were slightly flushed and raven hair tousled due to the harsh wind outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his dark brown coat. He looked quite cuddly and inviting.

She instantly shook that thought away, though. Eyeing him suspiciously when also spotting the bare neck and open collar.

"And since when do you feel cold?" she sarcastically snorted then. A knowing smirk on her lips as she let him enter. Meeting his wide boyish grin.

"Maybe I fibbed a little there."

She laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "What are you even doing here? Thought you were working on a job."

"Well.." He let out an awkward laugh when a shiver crept up his skin. He might not freeze, but that didn't mean he wouldn't feel the coldness at all. Especially with the temperature difference inside there. "I don't know actually."

She took a step back to narrow her eyes at the taller man. A puzzled smile tucking on her lips as she tilted her head. "So did you just randomly come here all the way from wherevever you were?"

"It's just.." It sounded too silly, thinking about it now, but frankly, he simply had a feeling of her needing him. And he realised how completely irrational and odd it must sound if he said that out loud. So he stick with another excuse. "We were done with the job earlier than expected and wanted to take a little break, so.. might as well come to collect my birthday gift."

Cassandra blinked. Somehow she wasn't quite buying it. He never struck her as a guy who'd travel countries just for a simple gift. Especially since he should know it wasn't anything of value compared to the actual treasures they were hunting.

"Hope you don't have too high expectations of that gift, though," she mumbled with a coy smile as he followed her further inside, "Might get disappointed otherwise."

Taehyung shrugged with a cheerful, almost childlike grin. "A gift is a gift. I take what I get."

He observed her crunching down at other side of the living room to pick up a rather big square, wrapped in fancy paper, from her desk. She felt her fingers trembling all of a sudden, not having expected to see him this time around after all, so she hadn't had any time to mentally prepare to get embarrassed yet. And the few steps she walked back to him clearly weren't enough.

"It's nothing special, really. I mean, what do you get someone who can literally get anything he wants? But I hope it's not too terrible."

Cautiously, he accepted the object from her with a scowl. Her intention was to lower his expectations but all it did was hightening his curiosity, especially since he didn't have any clue what it could be. He'd appreciate it either way though, whatever it was.

"Happy belated birthday, Tae."

He tried not to rip the paper when opening it, but as it accidentally did, he gave up midway and just tore it off making Cassandra laugh amused at his childish eagerness. Only for her to bite down on her bottom lip and avoid his glance when he finally unwrapped it.

His expression softened, brown eyes grew round in astonishment.

"A painting." He looked up at her in awe. "You drew this?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, still not daring meeting his eyes. "You said you liked my drawings and.. you also said you'd like having one of yourself like, and I quote, 'one of these sleazy rich guys'," she added air-quotations for the dramatic effect. Her hands dropping to the side then. "I know considering you travel around from hideout to hideout, it's not practical, but.. I don't know, maybe if one day you do get that house of your own, you'll find some space for it."

He hummed, his eyes preoccupied with the painting in his hands.

The detailed strokes, the soft-coloured paint. He wondered when she'd even found time to create it in between of sleeping and working. What amazed him the most, however, was the expression on his painted face. The look in his eyes. It tucked on something in his heart, the way she captured this brief moment of tranquility in them. He wondered if anyone else had ever noticed this kind of expression on him when not even he himself had.

That painting was how her eyes saw him. The way she saw him. And it was beautiful. It touched him how someone could see him like this. So.. human. Not a thief. Not a gunman. Just him.

He swallowed. His silent gaze wandered back to her then, catching her impatiently peeking at him as he was taking quite some time to silently gape at the present, increasing her insecurity about it.

He didn't understand why she was belittling herself so much when she didn't have to make him a gift in the first place.

"Thank you, Cassandra," he breathed eventually. His voice unintentionally cracked at the end as it came out hoarser than expected. She had almost missed it, so quiet that it was. But when she realised, her eyes slowly met his already smiling ones and all the nervousness she had felt before was suddenly swept away when seeing the sincerity in his face. He meant it.

She gave him a small nod in acknowledgment.

"Say.." he said then, taking another glance of the painting in his hands, "You said no plans tonight, right?"

»»»

"Should you not avoid such crowded spaces?" Cassandra yelled over the loud background chatter of half-drunks. One of them bumping into her shoulder, his red glittery party hat slipping from his head and almost poking her cheek.

Spending the final hour of the year at platja del Somorrostro, one of Barcelona's busiest beaches, surrounded by a New Year's crowd of strangers brimming the entire area wasn't where she had expected to find herself at.

And all because of Taehyung.

His dark waves peeked out from between a couple of people in front of her, him clearly not hearing her nor noticing her absence beside him and she squeezed herself through to reach for his sleeve not to lose sight of him again. He paused when feeling the tug and looked over his shoulder, catching Cassandra puffing out her cheeks. "Hey, wait for me!" she pouted and he laughed.

"Sorry, did you say anything?"

"Yeah, I asked if you shouldn't be avoiding such crowds."

They pushed through the mess and Taehyung made space for her to follow behind him as he navigated them to a low pavement wall, seperating the sand from the street.

They reached the uplifted sea promenade soon and he climbed onto it when spotting a gap between some chatty teenagers. Holding his hand out for her which she accepted, letting him pull her up.

"More the opposite," he clarified then as he let his eyes wander over the sea of funny party hats, chaplets and woolen beanies. He could bearly spot where the actual sea began and where the crowd ended. His eyes then returned to her with a cheeky grin. "The more people, the easier it is to get lost in the shuffle."

Cassandra could only smirk at this. "I assume that's your go-to tactic at heists as well?"

"Hm, maybe. Who knows," he reciprocated her smirk. Knowing exactly how riled up it'd get her whenever he stayed vague and not providing more info. He simply enjoyed teasing her too much to ever let go of it, besides the obvious benefits of her not knowing any details for her own safety.

To be fair, this New Year's Eve was also quite different from what he'd originally planned for it to look like. The original plan foresaw him and the guys to sneak into a yacht party at the coast of Alexandria - something he wouldn't tell her though.

Partially because he didn't want her to ask why he was missing it out, partially because he couldn't let her know any details.

Furthermore, he'd never been a man of big parties and celebrations anyway, everything always seeming shallow and blown-out-of-proportion to him. And that sense only intensified when sneaking into some fancy party to steal idiots' jewelery and money. So in a way, he also did it for himself and not only for her. Besides, if he acknowledged the influence she had on him to just ditch anything at the mere feeling of her needing him, he'd need to apologise to Jimin for all the times Taehyung had scolded him for doing the same exact thing for Arabella.

"I hope we can see the fireworks from here."

Her words interrupted his train of thoughts and he watched her tiptoeing beside him before setting her heels back down and taking a sip from the mojito bottle she'd bought at a convenience store earlier. Cheeks already rosy from the alcohol in her system due to being a light-weight.

He took a swing from his own bottle of red wine. "Don't worry, we got a clear sight up here."

Cassandra hummed, getting tired of standing she decided to sit down on the cold stone next to a woman with a blue wig. Wrapping her arms tightly around her angled legs and bringing them close to her body. The midnight air making her shiver under her coat.

"Oh!" she exclaimed then, holding her phone up.

He narrowed his eyes at the dim display. The clock said six more minutes to midnight. He glanced at his wrist then, making sure his watch said the same. It was precise after all, something necessary when doing a coup. And indeed, six more minutes.

Explained why people around them became more jittery.

"Do you have any New Year's resolution?"

He mused for a moment over her question. Flashing her a grin then. "Not getting caught. You?"

The red-head lightly laughed at this before shaking her head. "No, don't think I got any."

"Huh, didn't expect that," he blurted out and felt her inquiring eyes on him.

"Yeah? Why not?"

He shrugged. For a moment he contemplated how to phrase his disbelief, licking his lips shortly which had become dry in the low temperature. "You striked me like the kind of person who'd have a whole list of resolutions to be honest. That's all."

Cassandra blinked, taken aback as she indeed used to always have some kind of resolutions while growing up and this might've been the first time she didn't. Perhaps she was more obvious than she liked to admit after all. A dry laugh left her lips then.

"Well, I used to -"

"Knew it," he grinned triumphatically and took another sip from his drink, "What happened?"

"Nothing. I just realised none of my wishes or resolutions ever came true. So I stopped."

Four more minutes.

"But if you would have to do any, what would it be?"

She took a moment to genuinely think about it and hummed while doing so. Only obvious ones popping up in her mind. "I guess.. to successfully complete this training year, not lose my mind in the hospital and.." Her eyes lowered and she paused, smiling to herself in a sheepish manner. "The last one is a secret."

His brows arched, but he didn't press considering it must be private.

He looked down at his watch again.

Two minutes.

Somewhere in the distance behind them someone had already started blaring firecrackers. The loud cracking roaring over the drunk slurring, yells and chatter of the people scattered around them on the sea promenade. As far as the eye could see, streets were completely filled with people choosing spending the turn of the year outside among strangers in the cold. Most didn't seem to mind, Cassandra being the only one shivering.

And Taehyung noticed, scooting closer to her in a poor attempt to shield her body from the wind which had pushed its way through after all.

It was quite unfair, she pouted to herself when leaning into Taehyung's shoulder, how she, with her onion-layers of clothes, thick coat, scarf and beanie, was still freezing while he was out there with nothing but a sweater and a thin coat doing just fine.

"Thirty seconds," he announced when looking at his watch again.

Cassandra tilted her head to take a glance as well. "Twenty."

He sensed her warm breath brushing over his exposed skin. The pink-tinted tip of her nose and cheeks contrasting her pale skin which was faintly glowing under the yellowish streetlamp's light further away.

Everyone around them began counting down at the top of their lungs then.

"Ten!"

"Nine!"

"Eight!"

Taehyung searched her eyes, seeing she was already smiling at him. And they held each other's gaze while continuing counting down with the crowd.

"Seven!"

"Six!"

Their smiles widened.

"Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

Fireworks errupted from the main square in the distance, splashes of colorful lights painting the black sky and illuminating the crowd with loud popping sound of explosives. The hooting party horns and cheers from the crowd jarred into a deafening wave and everyone fell into each other's arms.

And yet, despite the commotion by the boisterous mass of people, all Cassandra could see was the curve of Taehyung's bright smile. Losing herself in the glittering sparkles in his irises. Just for that moment, it felt as if it was only the two of them there.

"Happy New Year, Cassandra"

"Happy New Year, Taehyung."

They laughed lightly, breaking eye-contact and instead decided to watch the rest of the elaborate fireworks show and its golden rain when some odd - to him at least - customs caught his attention then. "Why're so many people kissing or eating grapes?"

Cassandra tore her eyes from the colourful shapes to briefly glance at him, redirecting them to the night sky again. "New year's traditions. People eat twelve grapes for each month for good luck. Or kiss to save themselves from a year of loneliness."

He seemed intrigued by this. "Are there more?"

"Not sure, I don't believe in this superstitions."

He huffed a laugh at her bolt claim. "Says the girl who bought a lucky charm to a heist with her."

Gasping, she averted her eyes from the fireworks again only to face his shit-eating grin. "T-that's something different. It was my emotional support!"

Taehyung only arched a brow, continuing giving her a doubtful look. Much to her annoyance. "No, I mean it. I don't believe in these New Year's traditions. Or at least I try not to but, who knows.." A rueful smile ghosting over her lips. ".. maybe that's why none of my New Year's wishes ever comes true."

Taehyung looked at her indeciphable expression before looking back at the firework.

"What about you?" She assumed to already know his answer but she was still prying to know.

"I'm superstitious. A little bit at least."

She smiled softly, somehow not being surprised at all. "Oh yeah?"

"I need to, sometimes it's a matter of luck. Especially in what we do." He threw his head back in gleeful joy as another set of fireworks was fired. A cheeky smirk gracing his lips then. "And don't they say luck and timing is everything you need?"

She agreed. Even in medicine where everything was scientific and empirist, they still often had to rely on luck and hope. When it came to a therapy or medication to work or when the surgeons needed to wear their own lucky charms to boost their confidence and succeed in a difficult surgery. But it also depended heavily on the patients themselves, if they believed in it or not.

She laughed under her breath. It was a laugh of self-pity as she felt she neither had luck nor timing. At least not in the way she wanted to. And she emptied her bottle in a swing. A feeling of fizziness and light-headness overtaking her mind.

"You know what?" she blurted out after a short while and giggled highly bemused, "We should kiss for good luck!"

Usually she'd know despite the bubbling feelings for her criminal friend, which she still tried convincing herself didn't exist, that kissing him while being tipsy probably wasn't a good start for anything. But any rationality was clearly last seen 0.5l of mojito mix prior, the very few enzymes she apparently had to break down alcohol, already saturated awhile ago. So her intoxicated mind simply found that sudden idea marvelous and entertaining. She'd never get a proper kiss from him anyway - or any guy in the forseeable future with her work schedules - might as well make him her platonic and amicable New Year's kiss in a desperate attempt for any kind of good luck for that upcoming year.

Taehyung, however, only chuckled when seeing her flushed red cheeks and the empty bottle. Not taking her random request seriously until he saw her face turning into an offended sulk. Bottom lip sticking out. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah, it's the tradition!" she pouted, "I don't want a year of loneliness. So you gotta kiss me!" She had an adorable, almost naive giggle decorating her puffy lips. And for a second his eyes lingered on them before eventually shaking his head.

"I don't think -"

"Then don't think," she grinned. "Let's just do this. Just a quick peck."

"Okay, fine," he dragged a sigh, surprised at himself for giving in so quickly when he and Yoongi always accused Jimin of getting easily wrapped around pretty women's fingers. "O-only 'cause I really don't want you to end up a lonely cat-lady though."

Rolling her eyes, she puffed out a snort. "Thank you. That'd be very kind of you!"

She turned her body fully towards him then, head getting dizzy at her abrupt movement.

Why was he even considering this? Oh yeah, to do her a favour.

Emptying his own small bottle of wine, he also shifted in his seat before taking a brief look around them.

Kissing in public usually wasn't his style, but this could hardly be considered public as they were practically unnoticable in the amount of people around them. And besides, there'd been several others, whether friends or couples, who had exchanged pecks at the stroke of midnight.

So he exhaled and placed his hands on her arms, holding her in place so she wouldn't accidentally lose her balance as she was already swaying with a silly smile.

"Alright."

"Mhh, do it."

"I-I'm doing it."

"Fine, then do it."

His skin felt on fire. He shouldn't have drunk that much. He might not be a light-weight like her, but he wasn't a big drinker either.

"Just kiss me already," she began whining impatiently, wiggling under his grip. A couple of loose curls falling from the side and framing her face while doing so. "Or I'll be a bigger loner than I already am."

He frowned with a snort. "That's emotional blackmail," he deadpanned then in an attempt to distract from his irrational nervousness.

But Cassandra immediately paused staring at him wide-eyed as if someone had slapped her and she only now realised where she was and what she was doing.

With an awkward laugh, her eyes fell to the space between them. Perhaps the buzz was beginning to wear off or it was a moment of clarity, but she realised it was pointless if she had to force him. Perhaps that would even give her bad luck in the end. And she already had enough of that.

She shook her head, embarrassed of her tipsy self. "Y-you're right. Forget it. It's a stupid tradition anyway. Can't remember the last time I kissed anyone on New Year's."

His brows furrowed at her sudden change of mind. "No, it's fine. I'm gonna do it."

"No, seriously. We don't have to," she ensured him, her words muffled from her woolen scarf as she tried burying her face in it. Cursing herself from minutes ago for even speaking out that rash nonsense.

However, Taehyung's grip around her upper arms only tightened. Making her grow stiff under his stare.

"I said I would and I keep my word." His voice was calm yet determined, which surprised him considering his hesitation and she dragged a breath, straightening herself under his hands.

Was it weird that she didn't feel nervous despite it all? Probably. She blamed her low cogitation and the knowledge it wouldn't have any romantic significance anyway. Just friends following a tradition like many others around them.

"Fine, let's go."

He swallowed as he met her warm orbs. And he began fidgeting all over again. "Alright, okay, great. That's what I'm gonna do."

"All right."

His hands left her arms, instead placing themselves around her delicate neck and caging her velvety curls in his palms. A light shiver ran down her spine and she wasn't sure if it was the coldness of his fingers or the warmth of his touch. It was firm yet tender and she sensed her pulse picking up in rate with each passing second.

"Okay, ready?"

Cassandra only nodded, unable to speak all of a sudden. Maybe she wasn't drunk enough to stop her feelings and thoughts taking over her senses after all.

Her eyes flicked to his heart-shaped lips before making the stupid mistake of glancing back at him and meeting his eyes. His face was open and vulnerable in the streetlamps and fireworks above them and she caught a hint of wonder on it as they stared at each other. Slowly, he began leaning closer. And she swallowed down the tiny gasp that dared escaping her lips.

"One, two.." He paused then, scowling at himself. "No, wait. I'm not actually gonna count down."

"O-okay."

"That's not my style when I kiss."

"Okay."

"I don't count d-"

"Tae, it's fine," Cassandra giggled, interrupting his ramble. She'd never seen him ramble before. Was he.. flustered? She'd always imagined him kissing lots of women in disguise. Even if he always claimed not even Jimin, the actual flirtatious among them, did that.

The thumbs on her cheek gently brushed the stray strands aside then. His eyes shifting to hers again. The last fireworks sparkled in them and for a moment his heart forgot how to beat.

"R-ready?"

"Yeah," she breathed.

He closed his eyes, his face coming close. A deep crease set between his brows then, making his face look rather angry for a kiss. And her tipsy mind ultimately lost focus upon that hilarious realisation.

"What's this face!" she bursted out laughing, unable to contain herself and he backed off, irritated about her laughing fit.

"W-what face?"

"You can't make that face when you try kissing someone," she choked out in between of laughs while pointing at him.

"Oh, so you say something's wrong with my face now?" Taehyung only scoffed, somehow glad about the interruption though. He wondered if his fingers were actually shaking or if it was from the vibrations of her laughter.

"No, idiot! You're handsome and you know it!"

Startled at the unexpected compliment, a timid smirk tucked on his lips at her drunm words. His chest warming despite him downplaying the muddled feeling that was raising. "Oh, so you think I'm handsome now?"

She groaned in annoyance, lightly hitting his chest over the coat. "Don't pretend."

"So, do you want me to kiss you or not?" His teasing smirk returning.

"Maybe if you didn't make that face."

"That's very nice of you considering I'm doing you a favor here," he laughed under his breath. Not remembering any woman having ever made him laugh so much despite complimenting and confusing him at the same time.

Cassandra inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming himself again somehow. "Alright, let's do this already. No big deal," she nodded to herself, sternly, "Just kiss me."

"Nope."

She gasped at his evil grin. "You were about to, though!"

Taehyung only shrugged unimpressed and abruptly let go of her. "Yeah, before you bruised my ego," he retorted simply, causing her to huff.

"C'mon," she nudged his arm, "I'm sorry. I promise I won't laugh again."

"Apology accepted. But I'm not gonna kiss you." His lopsided smirk torturous, making her frustration grow.

"You're making such a big deal out of it, just kiss me already!"

"I'm not gonna kiss you!"

"Kiss me!"

"No! Not like this!"

Cassandra paused. Her parted lips, ready to counter something back in their bickering, abruptly pressed together into a thin line when processing his last words. She stared at his now bewildered face when he also realised what he had just unintentionally confessed.

"What?" she blinked confused, "What does that mean?"

Taehyung's eyes were wide, panic clouding his mind. "No. No-nothing. I just, I didn't mean it like that," he began with a terrible stutter the longer he looked at her inquiring eyes.

It didn't make sense. He was always capable of staying cool-headed even in stressful situation. It was inevitable in heists and when being in diguise. Then why did he totally blank out with the way her warm bambi eyes were digging daggers into his as the seconds passed. "I just, I mean we can't like that because that's not - it's very - like, you don't.. That's not what -"

But Cassandra didn't even seem to be listening anymore, staring absendmindedly up at the sky instead, being clearly still tipsy and all over the place - he could tell.

Taehyung stilled then. The beanie was pulled to her brows, scarf hiding half her face. Only her round eyes peeked out, holding a lovely innocent wonder in them.

It was irrational. It was scary. How it was more thrilling celebrating with her and cheap wine from a 24/7 store at the beach, than being in an expensive smoking on a yacht surrounded by millionairs while drinking the most expensive champagne.

Cassandra abruptly shook herself out of her short abstraction then and flashed him a smile.

"Come, let's leave or you wanna get hypothermia?" She was joking, but he noticed her anew shivering and he realised she must still be cold.

"Y-yeah, let's go."

»»»

The new year was only a couple of hours old. Quite early to go home for most, but Cassandra felt exhausted despite having completely sobered up by now. Much to her own dismay, she wasn't the night owl she'd used to be anymore.

The air felt colder when she turned into her street. The way home taking longer than expected due to what it seemed half of the city being out on the streets and traffic jams everywhere. Lines of cars, impatiently honking and only moving for a few centimetres before having to stop again.

Taehyung followed behind her, wanting to fetch his gift before leaving the city again. It wasn't unusual for him to only stay for a day there before having to move again, but somehow she'd hoped he'd stay longer.

The night breeze hit his warm cheeks as they reached the front door and she fumbled with the keys in the dark. Eventually finding the right one and unlocking the door, allowing them both to enter.

The painting was on the coffee table where he'd left it. He picked it up, examining it one more time in silence before tucking it under his arm and heading back to where she was in the hallway. Still busy taking off her shoes and jacket.

"Thanks again for this," he smiled gently and watched her lowering the beanie, ruffling through her curls to give them some of their lost volume back. "I'll make sure to store it in a save place." His voice was almost a whisper when he attempted to open the door, only to sense her tugging at his coat.

"Wait, I-" She pursed her lips, gaze falling as she saw his questioning glance. "I wanted to say thank you for spending the turn of the year with me.. I appreciate you coming all the way here so I wouldn't be lonely tonight."

His lips parted, taken aback. Had it been so obvious after all? However, he chose to pretend being confused and not knowing what she meant instead. "Who says that was my reason?"

Cassandra shrugged, lips curling into a rueful smile. "Maybe I just wished it was.. Whatever it was, still thank you. And I'm sorry."

Taehyung frowned. Gaze falling as well. "No need to apologise," he muttered, instinctively knowing what she was referring to. He swallowed then, shoving his free hand into his pocket.

In retrospective, it hadn't been such a big deal and yet, he was glad he hadn't proceeded to kiss her like that. He knew he'd have regretted in the long run.

"I feel like it, though," Cassandra continued then with a sigh, "I feel so stupid. I shouldn't have insisted on keeping a tradition. Especially since I don't even believe in supersticious stuff."

He eyed her with a doubtful look, making her roll her eyes and sigh in defeat.

"Fine, I do. Sometimes. Some stuff. Not all."

He chuckled lightly making her smile.

Truth was, Cassandra was disappointed in herself for getting so weak and desperate, putting him in such a position and creating this awkward tension between them.

"Tae, you didn't have to kiss me." She felt like she needed to underline this. Her voice small and filled with guilt and shame. "Please, don't feel bad."

"I know, don't worry," he reassured before they grew quiet.

In times like this she really disliked his withdrawn and secretive personality. Usually his aloof and coy aura intrigued her, but right now she needed him to speak to her. And the fact he didn't, made her fidgety.

They stood there for a second longer.

Faint music was echoing from somewhere in the building while the piercing sound of lonely firecrackers was heard from the streets.

"Well, okay good then.. goodnight. And Happy New Year again." She tried sounding cheerful, masking her regret of screwing things over in her irrational state.

She wouldn't see him again for an indefinite period and that was how they'd be parting ways now. She hated herself from two hours ago.

Dragging out a breath, she reached for the door handle to let him out when a grip on her elbow prevented her from doing so.

Taehyung grabbed her arm and in a swift move, pulled Cassandra into his chest. Strong arms catching her, wrapping around her smaller figure and before she could even properly react, his lips had already engulfed hers.

That was it. All the self-control she'd exerted over the past months went straight out the window in that moment. Her neurological system completely shutting down by the overload of neurotransmitters, hormones and endorphines, simply swiping her mind blank with the only remaining thought being how incredible his warm lips felt against hers.

Her arms instinctively found their way around his neck to pull him even closer. Feeling the cold metal of his necklace against her fingertips. And she kissed him back fiercely, Taehyung wounding his hands more into her long hair at this. It curled around his fingers, silky and fluffy and for a moment he lost any sense of time or his surroundings when all he could feel was the vibration of her skin against his and the bewitching rum-lime taste of her lips full of unspoken feelings and endless promises.

Their lips moved, molding, melting into one another. Whatever logic and reason there had been, had long gone away. There was nothing left but their intertwined lips and breaths.

Eventually, they slipped from each other after what felt like an eternity but could have only been a minute. Panting against each other.

Their eyes remained closed, not daring opening and letting that moment ending in smoke so soon. Taehyung rested his dazed forehead against hers and leaned in. Planting one last kiss on her lips, this time less heated but rather tender and mellow. Savioring the last bit of the sour-tasting liquor mixed with his sweet wine. And Cassandra leaned into him more before they let go of each other at last.

Her eyes fluttered open immediately, dark lashes lining against her pale skin in a state of surreal haze. He wasn't sure if she'd ever looked more beautiful as in that moment, right after he'd kissed her and he felt the urge to do it again at this sight.

"I meant something like that."

With that, he stepped back and picked up the painting from where he'd set it on the ground. Brushing past her. And he left without saying anything else.

Cassandra stood there in the empty hallway, stunned. Everything around her was spinning and she feared she was intoxicated all over again.

Her fingers slowly rose then to touch her numb lips. Ensuring they were still there. Along with the lasting sense of Taehyung's touch.

Her New Year's wish had finally come true.

»»»

next chapter: 0.8 here

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steddieunderdogfics · 28 days ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @alwaysurvalentine! alwaysurvalentine has 11 fics in the Stranger Things fandom on AO3 and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

@dame-zoom-a-lot recommends the following works by @alwaysurvalentine:

bad days were meant to be shared

three strikes and you're out!

aquariums and sweethearts

"If I had to put an image to their fics… I'd say a warm blanket and a piece of cake.

Their slices of life fics get cooked with so much care and thought. A lot of them are my go-to when I'm feeling kind of off or lonely. They approach conflict with so much empathy and realism. No one's just shitty out of the blue with zero reason, and characters talk things out in a way that feels like how real people would talk. There's rarely clear villains or clean-cut forever happy-ending type resolutions in real life, and their fics shine at showing the beauty of that." -- @dame-zoom-a-lot

Below the cut, @alwaysurvalentine answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Honestly, I just really vibe with both of them as characters. It’s easy to draw some of my own parallels with how Eddie sees the world and Steve’s fall from grace within my personal life - so it’s nice to play around with characters who I can understand. Plus I love taking the “protectors” from the narrative and forcing them to allow others to care for them.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m a sucker for any type of soulmate au, the ones with soulmarks are my guilty pleasures. Just something about knowing there’s someone out there destined to care about you makes me feel all warm and fuzzy

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Anything slice of life or found family - I just love getting to give characters all the love and care they deserve. Especially when canon has put them through the ringer!!

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

With no cross to bear (these words just come out) by hitlikehammers https://archiveofourown.org/works/45052120/chapters/113340064 I come back to this fic again and again. Love their Eddie POV and all of the reactions from the party feel authentic and I just love a fic that really shows how much everyone cares about Steve (even if he doesn’t see it).

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve had a big idea about a possession type fic starring Eddie. It’s gonna be a big project though so it may be workshopped and shelved for another time while I work on some other stuff!

What is your writing process like?

Music is my biggest inspiration and I listen to Spotify all of the time (my spotify wrapped is about to be WILD), but usually I’ll get a spark of an idea from a song, scribble down a quick interaction I can see, and then once I get home it’s getting it all out on a doc. It usually takes me a few days to a week for me to get a fic where I want it, especially when the characters take things into their own hands for the narrative (I’m looking at Eddie and Robin here)

Do you have any writing quirks?

I actually write everything in red text until I decide I like the section. I have so many documents that have different colored text based on how I feel about it. Black means it’s ready to be proofread/don’t change, purple or blue for things I want to rewrite, and then red for what I’ve gotten down but isn’t edited/reviewed yet. Besides that I also go in thinking I’m going to keep it short and sweet and then I blink and we’re 2k in - but it’s been fun nonetheless!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

If I’m doing a prompt challenge usually it’s as soon as I’m done (totally not because I finish the day of…totally not that) but other than that I have a personal schedule to have certain things done by, otherwise I’ll nitpick forever.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Three Strikes and You’re Out! It was super fun to play around with connecting baseball terms to DnD in a way that still made sense and wasn’t just a block of info text.

How did you get the idea for aquariums and sweethearts?

It was actually a little followup I did for another fic, where Eddie visited the aquarium with Uncle Wayne but wasn’t able to get the souvenir he wanted. And I wanted Steve to kinda complete that circle, plus I wanted them to have a moment where they could kinda be kids again.

When writing aquariums and sweethearts, what was something you didn’t expect?

I honestly didn’t expect it to be so long, I was just going to write a tiny follow up but got carried away with my own aquarium memories and research so I just kept wanting to add more and more

What inspired three strikes and you're out!?

I feel like I’ve seen a lot of fics where Steve meets Eddie halfway with his interests and I wanted to see the opposite. Like it’s one thing for Eddie to concede that being a jock isn’t so bad, but it’s another for him to go out and learn about a sport/something that doesn’t interest him at all, ya know?

What was your favorite part to write from three strikes and you're out!?

Oooh! Such a hard question, for me it’s a tie between the conversation Eddie has with Lucas and his conversation with Uncle Wayne. I just liked putting Eddie in a situation where he was the one learning, instead of being the one in charge/control.

How do/did you feel writing bad days were meant to be shared?

It was a little hard starting out, I knew a couple things I wanted to happen but besides that I really went in kinda blind. Once I got into the groove though, it felt like it just wrote itself. Steve knew what he was feeling and just guided me along.

What was the most difficult part of writing bad days were meant to be shared?

So fun fact, I actually wrote the first draft completely from Eddie's point of view. I was trying to find his voice (still feel like I’m working on this but progress is progress) but it just wasn’t flowing right and Dame-Zoom-A-Lot actually helped beta for me. They’re the one who suggested the point of view switch and it worked so well!!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

A favorite scene I’ve written has to be in aquariums and sweethearts when Eddie and the Mime gang up on Steve to poke fun at him, it just felt like something Eddie would play along with and enjoy. These couple of lines from Three Strikes and You’re Out! Make me really happy, like sent my friends a dorky screenshot because I liked them so much: “Eddie’s world narrows to the smell of Steve’s cologne, something that smells like rain on freshly cut grass and a hint of vanilla. Just as soon as Steve leaned in, he leans away, the sun painting orange and pink highlights in his hair when he tilts his head grinning.”

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m working on a Steve Harrington ‘character study’ from Hopper’s point of view currently and might be starting on an Anastasia AU starring Chrissy as Anya and Robin as Dimitri - super stoked for both of these!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Endless thanks to my nominator!! I just started posting for Steddie this August and it’s been unreal. So thankful for all of my new friends and can’t wait to share some more of my little ideas and chat with other people about their art and stories! <3

Thank you to our author, @alwaysurvalentine, and our nominator, @dame-zoom-a-lot ! See more of alwaysurvalentine's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers

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galacticspaceguy · 10 months ago

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Post Cars 3 human!lightning headcanons:

(Also leans into a bit of AU territory but the AU starts after cars 3 so it’s ok)

-mid 30s

-doesn’t race with the rookies officially anymore. He holds dirt track races for him and all the older racers. People are allowed to come and watch. These races get real popular, but they quieted down after a while.

-he didn’t get a new car cause he’s to attached to his old one, and he refuses to alter it either.

-uses Docs old car a lot. He fixed it up because being a mechanic became a new hobby of his

-had a couple a scars due to the assassination attempt and the crash. he also takes a bunch of meds cause the crash messed him up real bad. A lot of people consider Lightnings crash one of the worst.

-has ADHD. It was really bad when he was younger (cars 1) but it’s calmed down now

-people talk about Cruz getting in a potential car crash due to it being almost a curse. Doc, Strip, McQueen, so people think Cruz is next. It doesn’t help that this is one of McQueens biggest fears.

-races Cruz as a part of her training

-hates it when people call him old. Everyone calls him old.

-usually wears sweatpants, a white shirt, a jacket that’s both his old logo and Dinoco themed, and his own merch (a hat and lightning glasses) as a crew chief uniform

-he let Cruz use his old racing suit (he also let her alter it a bit by adding some of her signature yellow to his red)

-lost a bit of his professionalism but not a bit of his charm

-gets a lot of appreciation from the rookies on the track (cause he’s practically a dad to everyone on the track now)

-Lightning is to Cruz like Doc is to Lightning but way more chaotic

-part time teacher at Rusteze racing center. It was a horrible idea to hire him, but the rookies love him

-Harv made him keep his hair cut short and clean, but now he lets it grow out.

-He also has a heavier accent now due to all the time he spends in radiator springs.

-Married Sally. Fans started calling her Mrs. McKing. Though there’s already a Mrs. The King. They are best friends and have their own fan base.

-Always carries a cup with him to all of Cruz’s races. None knows what’s in it, and when anyone asks, he always gives a very vague answer, so none knows. It’s become very popular online for people to guess what Cruz Ramirez’s crew chief is drinking.

-convinced all his old racing friends to help out in the pits or become crew chiefs of their own rookies

-doesn’t usually let Cruz race internationally. He knows it’s unfair, but he’s still a little wary after the whole assassination attempt. A few of the racers from the world grand pix actually reached out to him to tell him he should be less paranoid in the nicest way possible- but then again, people strapped a bomb to his best friend in a attempt to murder him

-tried to teach Sally to race. He always lets her win even if he knows he can beat her easily.

-either really rough with Cruz or really soft with her; but over all incredibly over protective of her

-casually mentions/references things that happened in movie 1/2 and the majority of the time, no one but the Radiator Spring residents what he’s talking about

-hasn’t let Cruz get an proper agent yet. He knows he should, but he and Dinoco are enough right now.

-can throw Cal over his shoulders and drag him around (no matter how much Cal screams at him to put him down)

-broke off his contract with Harv and put Harv on a no contact list. I don’t personally think Harv was physically or extremely abusive- I thinks he’s more exploit-y and mostly cares about fame and money. He was really distant with McQueen but he did have a good hold over the kid, I mean we all know how excited Lightning gets when he gets to talk to or even see Harv. The entire court case was about Harv taking more of Lightnings winnings than what’s legally allowed, and it really changed Harvs attitude towards Lighting, which led to a restraining order and a no contact order.

-I have another headcanon that Harv became Jackson Storms agent, which led to a whole other court case

-Sally was the lawyer for both those cases

#pixar cars #cars movie #cars #lightning mcqueen #headcanons

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maximwtf · 4 months ago

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“All in a night’s work.”

Almond Cookie x Reader

words: 1430

google docs pages: 3

Warnings: Platonic, squint and it’s kinda not? Fluff mostly :"D

opening: You’re both working late at Almond’s house in an attempt to solve a case. You start to get tired and take a little snooze at the table before he notices.

AN// G/N reader. I started writing this almost a year ago and forgot to finish it, but aye. I’m finishing up a lot of unfinished works/ideas/requests atm anyway, so might as well put this out :”D Anyway, this yet again is a human au, everything is the same but they’re humans. Haven't written for crk in so long, hope this came out okay !

“All in a night’s work.”

Straight when both of your shifts had ended you’d had the same thought. There had been one case nagging the both of you for a little, and brainstorming it together seemed like a good idea. So, while gathering your things from your tables, you’d asked Almond if he was up for it. Sure, he usually looked like death was upon him for how little he usually slept and how rarely he took breaks, but you knew he was always up to solve a case. And you had been right, he was up for it.

You’d seated yourself in his kitchen, watching Almond roll up his sleeves as he spread folders and other stray pieces of paper on the kitchen table. He didn’t sit down. In his usual style, leaning on the edge of the table. You took one of the folders, opening it and inspecting the images and notes made on the documents. None of it really made sense, but that’s what you two were here to crack. Who these people were and if they had anything to do with the case.

Not much was said after that, the work seemed to flow smoothly even without any words or conversation. You kept passing documents to each other after taking notes from them. Having a clear, unspoken order in which to do things.

Time passed rather quickly. The earlier bright house was now dim, only the light on top of the table giving a comforting light upon the two of you and the papers. All of that time had been spent well though, there was a small pile of notes and new clues you had found with the help from Almond. But all of that work had gotten to you, especially after a busy workday on top of that. Your head was leaned against your palm as you flipped through the last bits of the documents in front of you. The feeling of your eyelids sometimes closing was creeping on you, head feeling heavy. Sometimes your eyes would close for a longer time, making you think you’d already fallen asleep. But then the thought of that woke you up again. You still had to drive home, you couldn’t fall asleep here. Not to mention that there was another workday ahead.

Almond must have still been going through the documents, since you heard the noises of paper rustling. If he was still working, he couldn’t have noticed how tired you had gotten. But the more you allowed your thoughts to wander like this, the more drowsy you became. It didn’t take long for your eyes to start closing again, this time staying that way. Your breathing calmed down, becoming slower and softer. After all, the space was comforting too. The kitchen was warm, but not too hot. The lights not blindingly bright, but a nice shade of light yellow.

Not a lot of time passed before Almond noticed you, at least it hadn’t felt like you’d been napping for that long. He had spotted your sleeping form, making him raise one of his eyebrows before his expression softened. Almond was tired as well, but that was not a new feeling to him. A slight smile creeped onto his face before he slipped off of the chair he’d been on, coming over to your sleeping form. He felt conflicted about waking you up, seeing how peaceful you looked. Then again, sleeping in that position for any longer would most certainly cause some kind of back problems, he would know.

Almond placed his hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. You hadn’t had the time to fall into a deeper state of sleep, so even the gentle shake caused you to stir awake quickly.

A soft gasp escaped your mouth the second your eyes opened again, realising that you had actually fallen asleep that time. Almond’s hand was still on your shoulder, making you turn and look at him, causing your cheeks to redden. “O-oh, I’m so sorry. Ah, I should get going, I suppose.” You attempted to chuckle it off as you stood up, dusting your clothes to relieve some stress from the jump you’d just had. Almond’s hand slipped off your shoulder, a somewhat of a worried look on his face. “Are you planning on driving home in this condition?” he asked, even tilting his head a little as if he was truly surprised by what you had said. You furrowed your brows, inhaling before even thinking of what to say. “I- Yes? Of course, I have to go home. I’m getting sleepy, so there’s no point in continuing work any longer.” You chuckled softly, trying to move towards the front door. Almond followed along, still looking concerned. But not stopping you. “No- no. I insist, stay here. I wouldn’t want you to injure yourself only because you left here while so tired.” He said, taking a couple of quicker steps to attempt to block the way to the front door, though clearly not making it hard to just walk past him. Merely giving you an option to think over.

You thought of your options, not sure what to do. Sure you felt awake now but after sitting down and driving for a while you might as well fall asleep like you’d done earlier, and that wouldn’t be safe. You slumped your shoulder and sighed, giving in. “Are you suggesting I’d sleep here? I possibly couldn't-” you started, but he put up his hands, stopping you before you could go on. “No, I insist. If you don’t feel comfortable in the guest room, the couch is also available. I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket, hm?” Almond said. He didn’t look so worried anymore, probably guessing you had given in to the thought of having to stay in his house for the night. You processed that for a moment before nodding slowly, couch it is. You’d just leave early in the morning to not be a bother any more than you already were. Or maybe that would be rude, to disappear without saying anything… This was getting complicated, far more than you’d hoped for.

“Yeah, sure. “ You hummed, sighing. “Thank you.” Almond smiled slightly, relieved that you weren’t thinking of going on the road anymore. “I’ll go and get the sheets.” He added soon after, walking off to his bedroom.

You stood in the hallway for a moment before deciding to walk over to your bed for the night. It looked comfy, better than sleeping in your car. Yet not intruding, since you weren’t messing up his guest room. So you supposed this was going to be okay, is a little embarrassing for having gotten so tired without even properly noticing.

Almond soon returned, carrying a couple of pillows, a blanket and sheets for the couch. You made some space for him, getting on the other side of the couch to help him make the bed. “If you need anything else, come and ask,” Almond said calmly while tugging the sheets in place with your help. Fluffing up the pillow as you laid the blanket down. The same feeling of teamwork even in this, as you had with any work. Finding that amusing. “Ah, yes. Thank you.” You chuckled, noticing your delayed reply. Which hadn’t gone unnoticed by him either, seemingly having assumed it was due to the exhaustion. Seeing leaving you to sleep as the best option.

“Of course. You’re always welcome here,” he said after a moment of hesitation, taking a breath after to change the topic. “I’ll see you in the morning, good night.” He smiled faintly, clear signs of exhaustion on his face as well. But he seemed to be more skilled with hiding that than you’d been. “Night,” you replied before sitting on the edge of the couch. A breath escaping you, attempting to ease your shoulders. The fact that you’d be waking up in the same house in the morning and taking the same way to work only now truly sinking in. You couldn’t possibly just leave before he woke up.

Due to that, you found it hard to catch sleep anymore. Having to force yourself to think of the positives to calm your mind. Which surprisingly wasn’t hard. Having known Almond for long enough, to know he didn’t mind you sleeping here one bit. In the end, spending time with him like this was comfortable, like second nature. The morning might as well be pleasant, you’d never know.

And with those thoughts, accompanied by many more, you were able to drift back into a comfortable sleep.

#Almond cookie #Almond cookie x reader #Cookie Run Kingdom #Cookie Run Kingdom x Reader #Crk #crk x reader #x reader #almond x reader #cookie run #cookie run x reader

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fangirlanxiety74 · 5 months ago

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TELL ME ABOUT TED. Headcanons you have for him, anything... Can be silly or serious.

Someone... SOMEONE'S ASKING ME ABOUT MY HEADCANONS?! IT'S BEEN YEARS SINCE SOMEONE'S ASKED ME ABOUT MY HEADCANONS!! HOLD ON, I MADE A DOCUMENT!! /ref/hj

In actuality, I did genuinely make a google doc. But it's not ready to be shared yet, so I'll share the highlights.

First off, the game manual lies. He is NOT 44. He's 33 at OLDEST. I kind of consider him more like 29/30. Just barely.

He grew up in South Carolina hehe, farm boy

Bisexual disaster but I think this is kinda just obvious.

He is the oldest between him and his 5 siblings!!! And adding onto this, he is SUCH a good older brother. I don't care if everyone else disagrees, he could be the worst man alive but the one good thing someone could say was that he took care of his siblings.

If you know Ayano from Kagerou Project, I think he's a lot like her when he's younger. Like 8/9 years old. He tried so hard to protect them all from their parents and keep them happy. He'd sacrifice so much for them, it's why he kinda,, went into the extreme of being so,, entitled as a grown up. Ykwim???

Just imagine. With the ice caves, moving without thinking to save the others before himself? His brain subconsciously doing what he knows best; sacrificing what he has for others.

Selflessness as a core trait for Ted, please.

Another thing relating to his siblings: He knows how to do ballet!! And he's REALLY good at it. He actually has a lot of fun doing it. One of his sisters wanted to, but she was too afraid to take lessons alone, so he went along with her in secret. Didn't get caught for years. (She stopped lessons once he got forced out of them)

He talks a little like a New-Yorker, or at the very least, that transAtlantic accent (yk like from the old movies?) to try and play off as that kind of guy like Great Gatsby.

His actual accent is Southern. Sometimes it slips out when he's like, extremely flustered/angry, but it's such a rare thing.

He can't stand the sound of someone crying, it immediately makes him angry. Take that, and yk, Ellen or Benny constantly crying... Yeaaaah. (This is also due to his siblings).

This is obvious, he forces himself into doing a lot of masculine things that he doesn't like to appear older/wiser/better, insert whatever word you wanna use that translates to "I am insecure about myself" lol

Okay this last one is really important to me and like. It. Needs its own special paragraph. He is a creative person in his soul. He loves to learn, he loves to write, he loves to read and dance and sing and draw and he has such a huge imagination and love for creativity. You can see it in his psychodrama with how it plays out like a full-blown Grimms Fairytale, the monster he imagined that no one else could see, the line in the radio drama "Am I the last storyteller, telling the last story...?"

He's a storyteller. He has so much to say and share, and he would've done something creative with his life if he had the option, but the abuse he faced and the societal expectations placed on him forced him to,, give it all up. Made him realize he could never have that. Which is why, at least in the game, AM chose him. Ted had so much potential to create, and just... gave it up. For seemingly nothing. Why wouldn't that make AM mad, who can't create, can't even imagine or wonder?

AKA Theatre Kid Ted canon, let it be known

I have like, also. I have a somewhat-AU of Omori for the ihnm cast, and Ted takes the role of Basil. I think Dream Basil vs RW Basil fit a lot of what he is as a kid vs an adult, or at least aspects of both due.

I also have a Hadestown AU of him with my self-insert where he takes the role of Eurydiceeee.... Like. Guys, Hadestown fans, hear me out. Ted singing "Flowers." AM singing "Hey Little Songbird" to Ted. PLEASE HEAR ME CAN YOU HEAR ME??? ARE YOU LISTENING??? /J

There's so much more I can say but this is getting so long I will definitely share more if people want nfjkdc bUT THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!!

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #ted ihnmaims #sara speaks :3 #ihnmaims ted #the grip this man has on me ffs #i think about him so much it's unhealthy #i need to like #kill him

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delta-pavonis · 11 months ago

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Hiii, I would love to know about you dreamling inception au :0

So I actually have two separate concepts for this NEITHER OF WHICH I CAN FIND THE TUMBLR POSTS FOR, but I have one of them copied to that doc in the picture for this meme, so here it is:

The King of Dreams is starting to get angry with the humans meddling in his realm via this PASIV device. At first it was cute, like a toddler with Play-Doh in the presence of Rodin or a sand castle at the feet of the Leshan Giant Buddha. It is easily contained and barely needs monitoring. Then humans start layering dreams, one within another within another within another. It is stressful for Lord Morpheus' dreams and nightmares, requiring three, four, five of them at once to maintain stability. Further, they start to subvert the very essential function of dreams, twist them into something no longer helping humans, but in some cases outright harming them. Dream decides that he must move to protect his creations and humanity at large. He enters some of the layered dreams himself. Enter a dream architect, one Hob Gadling, who not only is in-demand for the most elite and elaborate cons, but creates some of the most beautiful things Dream has ever seen in the Dreaming. They're usually in the background of the dreams he builds, little things, a new constellation here, or a piece of artwork there, an absolutely perfect sunrise, or a devastatingly graceful willow tree. Hob takes his time with each of these bits, a sort-of signature of his, a little private gift to himself. Except a dark figure starts appearing in the dreams he builds, always in the background when the dream has been made its most complicated, when they are actively using it to run a job. And he is always always looking at Hob's signature. The Stranger starts appearing more and more often in Hob's work. No one else on his team sees the man in black and Hob thinks he might have truly knocked his last screw loose. Until this... being... his Stranger... not only allows Hob to approach, but speaks to him…

Alternatively, a version that is more crossover than AU, would be canon Hob becoming a dream architect...

PASIV technology was developed while Dream was in the fishbowl and shit hits the fan-ola when he gets out to find humans mucking around in his realm, digging shit up, moving things around, just making an absolute mess of the place. He is able to get most of them out when the ruby breaks and he is able to rebuild his realm, but Dream is worried that new technology will soon allow humans to invade once again. Feeling a strong tug at someone(s) interfereing with the Dreaming, Dream storms into the manufactured dream to give the interlopers a piece of his mind and possibly to rip them to shreds, but finds only Hob, gently creating these sweet little pieces of dreams that he doesn't have any purpose for yet, but just loves building dreams so much that sometimes he goes under with the PASIV just to create. Dream realizes it is Hob far sooner than Hob realizes that he is being watched, which means Dream gets to observe how carefully and artfully Hob crafts things of dreamstuff. It is... stunning... to see someone care for the Dreaming almost as much as Dream himself does. He pretty much falls in love then and there. Now what does he do about all the other humans he does not want to have access to his realm?

#Pavonis writes #WIP Tag Game #Dreamling #Sandman/Inception AU

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spicymoonmenace · 6 months ago

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Little update! I went on another break, but I'm back and feeling much better than before!! Activity will still be a bit slow while I take my time coming back however.

But for some exciting news, while I was away I've been working on a lot of Club AU stuff!! I've been making an update to the Lore google doc and reworking some things for it, so that update should drop in the near future!

Which speaking of info, when I went through the blog a while back, I noticed a lot of older asks have a lot of info that's outdated, so I'm considering either labeling them as 'outdated' or either deleting them. Not sure yet.

Also I've been hard at work on recreating the club in the Sims 4! I know in the grand scheme of things I don't necessarily have to, but I figured it'd be fun to give y'all a reference of the club!

I'll put some progress shots under the cut! (Things are subject to change but here's what I got so far of it!)

#spicymenace speaks #thank y'all so much for being patient with me!!#I'm excited to share what I've been working on with y'all!!

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wikiangela · 11 months ago

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tease tidbit tuesday💀

tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @hoodie-buck 💖

hi! so, yesterday I randomly opened the doc with the buddie death cast au - which is a fic I started writing last summer on vacation and never got back to it but then made progress lol it's gonna be MCD, which i know is not everyone's thing so feel free to ignore this 🤣 it's basically buddie in the universe of the "they both die at the end"/"the first to die at the end" books so it's gonna be sad, sorry lol (I never even read mcd, idk why i'm writing this but this idea just wants to be written i guess haha) gotta put this weird mood I've been in lately to good use and finally write this 🤣 not sure if I'm happy with this snippet, but it all needs editing, the first two snippets were written on my phone and haven't been edited yet lol

I posted two snippets so far, gonna link them both snippet 1 | snippet 2

___

“Is all of this clear, Eddie?” she asks in the end.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” he says shortly. He should've just hung up immediately. Or cancel this stupid subscription after Shannon died. Sometimes he wonders if maybe people who get the calls and coincidentally get into accidents, for example, just give up and refuse to fight because they think it’s their time. Not like Shannon could do much, her injuries were too severe when they got there, but the point stands. Maybe they get more reckless, thinking it doesn’t matter anyway.

There’s a short pause on the line, but then Jane speaks up again, her tone softer, more sympathy seeping through.

“I know it’s not easy to accept, if you’d like some help with that, on out website you can find therapists and grief counselors specializing in-”

“Listen.” Eddie interrupts. He’s spent enough time in therapy. He’s not doing it on his supposedly last day. “I know it’s all bullshit. I don’t care. You said what you had to say, I listened, for whatever reason.” he rolls his eyes. He really should’ve hung up, or not answered at all. “Is this conversation over yet?” he asks and is met with another moment of silence. She’s probably wondering what everyone else always is: why is he even spending money on this if he doesn’t believe. He has an answer ready to go, but that’s not what she asks.

“Can I ask you a question?” she says quieter, whispering, probably not allowed to go too much off-script.

“Sure, why not.” he shrugs. He’s wide awake now, anyway, he’s not in a hurry. Not like he’s dying anytime soon.

“If it was your last day, how would you spend it? You don’t have to answer, just think about it.” she adds quickly, her tone much softer and gentler now. Eddie’s mind immediately supplies a picture of Christopher and Buck, just a casual hang-out, like usual, maybe going to the movies, or the aquarium, or the planetarium, something fun for his kid. And later a gathering with the rest of their family, maybe a barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s, with Maddie and Chim, and Hen and Karen, all their kids, just everyone having fun together. Yeah, that’d be a perfect day. “There’s no harm in spending today just like this, if possible. Just in case.” Jane adds, still whispering. He doesn’t tell her that’s more or less his plan, anyway, for the evening after his 12-hour shift. During which nothing will happen to him, because Death-Cast doesn’t know shit. “Well, lastly, Eddie,” Jane’s voice is back at normal-volume, tone strictly professional but sympathetic, as she recites the end of her script, “on behalf of everyone here at Death-Cast, we’re so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest.”

Eddie hangs up without a word.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @nmcggg @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @king-buckley @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @diazsdimples @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks

#tease tidbit tuesday #death cast buddie au #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #angst #buddie angst #mcd #i don't know how yet but eddie will die in this one bc apparently ive been in the mood to break my own heart lmao #i wanted to say maybe i'd share smth happier tomorrow but i don't think i have any happy wips im actively working on rn???#there are happy wips in general but im not really in the mood/inspired for those rn #ran out of happy when i finished the natalia fic i guess lol #who even am i lmao what's with all the angst and sad im usually all about fluff 🤣#(gonna share some more of alive shannon tomorrow!)#btw if you haven't read the books and have questions hmu but also i'll try to make everything clear in the fic lol #but also SO recommend the books they're so good and so sad and I think about them like at least once a week (the prequel wrecked me)

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snelbz · 2 years ago

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Better Or Worse {Chapter Five}

Nessian. Angst. Modern AU.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

Cassian —

True to my word, I’ve continued to sleep in Feyre and Rhysand’s basement. Now that it’s Monday, I have my bags in the backseat of my truck as I drive to this damn counseling session. As long as this doesn’t completely blow up in my face, I’ll be going back home with Nesta.

I was surprised when she showed up at Feyre and Rhys’s, begging me to come home, to go to marriage counseling. A year ago, even months ago, I would’ve agreed to marriage counseling without any hesitation. But I meant what I’d said. I’m tired, and I’m past trying.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself, but yet I’m here, pulling into the parking lot of some fancy little office on the far end of town.

Nesta’s already here.

I see her car parked right next to the door. She’s still inside, but her car is off, and I find myself wondering if she’s just as nervous and unsure as I am about this whole ordeal.

After cutting the engine, I grab my wallet out of the cup holder and make my way to Nesta’s car. At first, she doesn’t see me, so I knock on her window and make her jump. She greets me with a scowl.

Even when she’s mad, even when I’m pissed at her, she’s gorgeous.

“Come on,” I say, as she throws open her door. “We’re about to be late.”

I turn and walk towards the front door of the office building, knowing she’ll be a step behind me. Sure enough, I hear the clipping of her high heels on the pavement a second later. “I’ve been here since 9:45. You’re the one showing up one minute until ten.”

“You said our appointment was at ten,” I said, opening the door and holding it open for her. “So I’m here at ten.”

She glared at me as she walked into the building, but the waiting room was not a conducive place for the type of conversation we were prone to having recently, so she let it drop.

For now.

She headed right for the young woman at the receptionist’s desk, leaving me at the door, giving me a minute to appreciate her. The sweater she wore was loose and baggy, hiding her full breasts, but it was tucked into a pencil skirt that showed off her round ass. It was made of lace, with a shorter skirt beneath, showing off her long, toned legs.It was the kind of obscene balance that Nesta brought to everything in life.

I could barely tear my eyes off her ass, off those legs that hadn’t been wrapped around my waist in far too long, but once I did, I noticed the sweater was an old one of mine.

A knot of emotion caught in my throat that I cleared away before joining my wife.

“Dr. Berdara will be with you shortly, if you’d like to take a seat.”

Nesta gave a curt nod and swiveled to a set of chairs by the window. I quietly followed after a kind smile toward the receptionist.

Nesta and I sat in silence for five awkward minutes before a door opened and our names were called. The therapist was around our age, maybe a year or two younger, which I thought was strange. Surely she had never been married, and if she had, she couldn’t have been married long enough to know all of the answers.

She seemed nice enough though.

Her and Nesta made small talk as they walked ahead of me down the long hallway and into an office overlooking the parking lot.

She gestured to a small leather couch for us to sit on opposite of her desk, which we did before she sat herself and smiled.

“It’s so nice to meet the two of you,” she said, sweetly. “I’m Gwyn.”

Wants us to call her by her first name? Another red flag.

“Not a fan of going by your title, Doc?” I asked, and I admit that my hostility may have been showing a little too much. I can practically feel Nesta’s eyes on me.

“I prefer a more casual approach when I’m first meeting new clients,” she explained. “Start us all out on even ground, rather than anyone above the other.”

Before I could reply, Nesta jumped in. “I think that’s a wonderful way to start out. I’m Nesta.”

The two of them looked at me, waiting. I started drumming my fingers on the arm of the couch. “And I’m Cassian.”

“As I said, it’s wonderful to meet you both.” Gwyn gave us another sparkling smile. “Cassian, why don’t you fill me in on why you two are here today?”

My fingers froze. “Why me?”

“Because Nesta made the appointment,” she said, nodding to my wife. At the same time, she nonchalantly flipped open a notebook and reached for a pen. “So since she took the first step by reaching out, I’d like to hear from you.”

“Pretty sure I took the first step when I told her I wanted a divorce,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I can feel her go rigid next to me.

Gwyn jots something down in her notebook, either oblivious to the tension between us or used to the uncomfortable situation thanks to her line of work.

“And what led you to that point?” She pushed, her voice gentle, which only makes me more agitated. “What made you ask her for a divorce?”

Alright. I guess we’re jumping right into this fucking train wreck.

“Nesta stopped caring about our marriage,” I answer, shrugging. “So now I have, too.”

“I didn’t stop caring,” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn gives her a smile. “You’ll have your time to respond, but let’s let Cassian finish.”

Well, shit. Maybe I don’t hate her.

Gwyn turns back to me. “What makes you think that she’s stopped caring?”

“In the last year, we’ve barely spoken to one another. We’ve barely spent any time together. When we do talk, it’s about bills or our schedules or her work, which I think is great, she’s great at what she does, but we don’t need to be constantly talking about deadlines and edits. Every time we’re in the same room together, she gets annoyed and snappy. Every time I ask her for a night off, where we can just be together, she refuses.”

Gwyn nods thoughtfully. “So you feel the root of your issues lies in her work?”

“I think she’s addicted to her work. It’s clear she cares more about it than she does me,” I answer honestly. “She definitely puts more work into her career than she ever has in our marriage.”

Anger is radiating off of Nesta, but she doesn’t say a word.

“I hear you.” Gwyn writes something else down. “How long have the two of you been married?”

“A little over nine years.” Nesta worked on the night of our anniversary, but I don’t bring that up.

“And your issues just began a year ago?” Gwyn asks.

I hesitate. “I guess I don’t really know exactly when our issues started, but about then, yeah.”

“This may seem like an obvious question, but I’d like as much background as you're willing to offer.” She folds her hands over one another on her desk and looks between us. “Did anything happen around the time things changed? Was there a catalyst or an incident that led to what you both see as a deterioration in your marriage?”

Before I can even decide how much I want to divulge, seeing as I met this woman less than five minutes ago, Nesta answers for us both. “No, nothing.”

And then Gwyn is writing again. “No infidelity or skeletons in closets that came to light?”

When I look over at Nesta, I find her eyes already on me, her gaze pleading.

I wanted to be pissed that our marriage counselor was almost accusing me of cheating on my wife, despite knowing she was asking an innocent question. I wanted to be pissed that Nesta had lied to her face, despite being the one who suggested we come here to work on our issues. This was where she’d finally open up about what had happened that night, when our world had gone dark, after pleading with her so long to just talk to me.

But it wouldn’t be today. Nesta wasn’t ready, the panic in her eyes was evident enough.

I turned back to Gwyn just as she looked up from her notebook and lied, just like Nesta had. “No cheating. No skeletons. Nothing happened.”

Gwyn looked back and forth between us, skeptically, but nodded. “Alright. Well, finding a turning point is a crucial part of this process, so let’s start from the beginning. How did the two of you meet?”

“Freshman year of college,” Nesta says, and I don’t care that she’s suddenly taken control of the conversation.

“And you started dating?”

Nesta nods.

“And what was it that drew you to Cassian?”

The question throws me off guard and I hate how much I want to hear the answer.

Nesta clears his throat. “He was…wild. Confident. Sarcastic. And frustrating as hell.”

Gwyn smiled. “And you found that attractive?”

“I found him intriguing,” Nesta said, wistfully. “He could piss me off and make me swoon within a matter of seconds. I’d say that it was his passion that drew me to him, at first.”

“And Cassian?” Gwyn asks. “What drew you to Nesta?”

I stare at my outstretched feet. “She challenged me. Captivated me. I was used to dating…girls with low self esteem who just wanted me to prove that they could have me, but Nesta was smart. Confident, too. I don’t know. I guess that I liked that she was different.”

“Different how?”

It was a much more difficult question to answer than I would have thought. Not because I didn’t have an answer, but because it was hard to put it into words. “She pushed me. She made me dig deeper. There was substance, not just a pretty face, she helped me grow, I guess.”

Nesta sits silently beside me, staring at her hands, and I tried not to notice that her eyes line with tears.

“And when did you get married?” Gwyn asks, still watching me.

“A little over a year later. We married young. Both just turned twenty.”

“And did anyone oppose your marriage? Considering you were both so young.”

“My father,” Nesta answers, quietly, “but we’ve never had a great relationship so I didn’t really care what he thought. He came around afterwards.”

She didn’t mention that he died a few years ago, but I can hear the pain in her voice as I often do when she talks about her dad, although rare.

“Tell me about your wedding day.”

“It was small,” Nesta says, and it nearly sounds like she’s smiling, although her face remains neutral. “Just our closest friends, and my sisters. Our friend Rhys got ordained online and married us on the beach.” Unable to help myself, I chuckle. Rhys was the worst officiant of all time. He was drunk, which did make the awful speech he had concocted a little bit better. “I wore a dress that I found online for thirty dollars and we were barefoot. It was nice.”

She made that thirty dollar dress look a million bucks. I still remember exactly how she looked, with her hair braided like a crown around her head. I remember how I felt. It had been the best day of my life and I couldn’t believe that I was so lucky to marry someone I was so in love with, my best friend.

“You look lost in thought. What are you thinking?”

It takes me a second to realize that she’s talking to me. Nesta is watching me, expectantly. I clear my throat. “It was a good day.”

I’ve somehow said the right thing and the wrong thing, all at the same time. Gwyn gives me a smile and looks poised to jump onto her next question when Nesta speaks. “That’s it?”

I don’t respond immediately and neither does Gwyn, which leads me to believe she’s going to let this one play out, rather than intervene.

Thanks, Doc.

I turn towards her, unsurprised to find her eyes already on me, storm clouds brewing within. “I said it was a good day, Nes.”

“But that’s all you have to say? It was a good day?” She genuinely looks offended and my short fuse is getting incrementally shorter by the minute. “Meeting your brothers for a drink after work is a good day. When you find a twenty on the street, it’s a good day. And all you have to say is that it was a good day?”

My jaw locks and my fingers flex. “What do you want me to say?”

Pure rage flashes across her eyes. “I want you to say something meaningful.”

Something meaningful. Jokes on her. She’s the one that hasn’t said something meaningful in months, years, who can’t recall how to have a meaningful conversation if her life depended on it. I take a deep breath, then another. Those deep breaths are the only thing keeping me stable, keeping me grounded. “Something meaningful?” I repeat.

“Yes,” she snaps.

Gwyn remains quiet.

My lips snap shut and I bristle, eyes planted on a pen sitting on Gwyn’s desk. “This is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Just talk, Cassian!”

My eyes snap to hers, and the second we make eye contact, I’m gone. I can see the emotion, the rage and sadness and hope, and that’s rare for Nesta. Especially lately. Lately, I’ve barely gotten anything from her, but now…she’s listening. She’s waiting. She’s hopeful.

“You want to talk about our wedding day?”

“Yes.” A tear falls down her cheek. She quickly wipes it away.

“The day I married you was the best fucking day of my life,” I say, looking away from her. “I loved you, Nesta. You were so damn beautiful, walking towards me with that overpriced bouquet. I had no doubt that you were the woman I was supposed to marry. All I wanted was you. I didn’t give a fuck when or where I married you. All I cared about was that you were mine. I meant every word I said in our vows. I’ll always love you, always protect you, always be there for you…” I shake my head. “I meant my vows, Nesta. But your vows were shit. Over the last year, you’ve proven that you didn’t mean a damn word you said that day.”

The room is silent, save for the occasional sniffle from my wife. She doesn’t respond and I’m sure as hell done talking for now.

Gwyn lightly taps the end of her pen against her notepad. “Can you tell me what you mean by that, Cassian?”

“I mean she hasn’t stood behind her vows, the promises we made to each other.” My voice is quiet now, all anger sapped from me as Nesta dabs at her eyes with tissue she produced from somewhere. I’m just tired now.

Reading through her notes, Gwyn says, “You’ve told me there’s been no infidelity, so in what way do you feel that Nesta hasn’t upheld her vows?”

“She’s never there.” I hate explaining this. It’s the same shit I’ve explained to my brothers for the past six months and nothing ever changes. “It’s like I don’t exist. All that matters is her books and her deadlines. She doesn’t put any effort into our marriage or even into our relationship.”

Nesta is noticeably silent now. Good.

Gwyn pushes. “Nesta, would you like to respond to that?”

Angrily, she swipes at a tear. “My books are my livelihood.”

“And you were my whole life.”

I don’t realize I’ve spoken the words aloud until both Gwyn and Nesta look at me.

I sigh, rubbing at my temples. Trying to move past the fact that I’m letting feelings I want to suppress out, I say, “Look, I’m proud of Nesta. Okay? She’s a damn good writer, and she’s living her dream. I get that. But since her career has taken off, she’s either working or stressed, and wants nothing to do with me, because I’m just another thing on her plate that’s already overflowing.”

Nesta doesn’t bother saying that I’m wrong.

“So you’re saying that Nesta needs to focus more on you,” Gwyn says.

“I’m saying that as long as she’s too busy working, our marriage is nonexistent.” Gods, I didn’t even want to come and now I can’t shut up. I lock my jaw and stare at my hands.

I feel Nesta looking at me but I don’t care to look back at the moment.

“And how do you feel about what Cassian has said, Nesta?”

My wife is quiet for a moment, then she says, “I don’t know.”

I scoff and Nesta glares at me, but Gwyn is patient. “Do you not know, or are you unsure how to put your emotions into words?”

Nesta shrugs, and I know she’s frustrated but I can’t find it in me to care much. “I guess I didn’t realize I was working so much, at first, but now I’m just used to it. I’m used to waking up and working until I go to bed. Ignoring Cassian was not my intention, I just wanted to be successful.”

“And now it’s a habit?” Gwyn asks.

Nesta nods.

“Would you say that you’re addicted to your work?”

Nesta hesitates. “I guess so. I guess it’s all I think about, yes.”

“Do you still enjoy being an author?” Gwyn asks, and I find myself intrigued by this question. For the first time in a while, I look at Nesta.

She’s staring at her wedding rings. “I don’t know. I love to write, but it definitely feels more like a chore than it ever has before. I don’t like the editing process. And sometimes I’m so stressed that I have writer's block and I go insane trying to write anything worthwhile, only for it to get torn apart during editing. My deadlines are getting closer and closer together and I struggle to meet them, because I’m always so stressed. And I know it affects Cassian. Then I feel guilty, but if I’m being honest, that guilt just makes me more stressed and withdrawn and frustrated and miserable to be around.”

The words rush out of her; her eyes never leave her rings.

“There may be a conversation that needs to be had with your publisher about the amount of work your putting out,” Gwyn muses, never one to give orders, just suggestions. “But as of right now, Nesta, I want you to think about how you used to balance work and your time with Cassian before. We’re nearly out of time today, but I want that to be what you consider until we meet again. Cassian, I want you to think about the amount of work Nesta does and how you can help.” I immediately want to protest that I know little about the written word, not like Nesta does, but she shakes her head. “I don’t mean in a literal sense, but to alleviate her stress. How can you help?”

I nodded. If we were here, I was willing to try.

“I want you two to go on a date before our next session.”

I blink at her, not sure that I’ve heard her right. “A date?”

“Yes,” she replies, closing her notepad and smiling at us both. Nesta’s expression is as confused as mine. “Dinner, maybe a movie or some dancing, the activity doesn’t matter. As long as the two of you spend uninterrupted time together, without work or deadlines, cell phones or emails, that’s our goal.”

Uninterrupted time with my wife.

The idea terrified me.

I hesitate, but it’s Nesta that says, “Okay.”

I don’t know why I’m so shocked by this, by her quick acceptance, considering this was all her idea, but I am. I’ve been trying to spend alone time with her for months, and I’ve gotten shot down every time. As soon as someone else mentions it, she says okay.

I tell myself not to be pissed about it, but I am.

Still, I say, “Okay.”

Nesta —

It’s been three days since Cassian has been back home, and it’s been…okay. Quiet, and there’s still not a lot of interaction between the two of us, but we haven’t been fighting. Although I guess it’s hard to fight when you barely speak.

It hasn’t helped that he’s been working a lot this week. He’s a few men down at his restaurant so he’s picking up the extra slack, as you do when you’re the head chef, until they return.

Still, when he’s gotten home we’ve had a small conversation about our days then we tell each other goodnight before Cassian makes his way down to the couch to sleep.

I hate being in our big ass bed without him, but I don’t mention it, not yet.

Cassian got off earlier today, so we decided to take up Gwyn’s challenge. We’re going on a date. I’m nervous as hell, which is ridiculous, but I can’t help it. I want it to go well but I feel like I have to tiptoe around everything to avoid another screaming match.

I can hear Cassian humming to himself in the shower as I slip into a little black dress, one I haven’t worn in a really long time, and look in the mirror. I’m hot, I can’t deny it. I curled my hair and did a full face of makeup, which I also haven’t done in a while, and honestly? I feel confident looking at my reflection, more confident than I’ve felt in…shit, too long.

After clasping a simple diamond pendant around my neck and closing my jewelry box, my eyes fell on the cracked bathroom door in the mirror behind me, a bit of steam billowing out. The only thing I lacked to be completely ready were my heels, but seeing what occurred last time I walked in on Cassian in the shower, I respected his privacy and waited. I sat down on our bed — the bed I’d been sleeping in alone — and waited.

It was absurd, giving my husband privacy and space after being together for a decade. We were the couple no one shared their secrets with, because what one of us knew, the other did as well. We didn’t do it to gossip.

We just didn’t keep secrets from each other.

I didn’t know at what point that changed, but I knew I was the cause. It all seemed to be my fault lately.

“You ready?”

My head snapped up. I’d been so lost in my own thoughts that I hadn’t heard the shower shut off or the door open completely.

And my husband stood before me in nothing but a dark blue towel, water dripping off his hair and running down his muscular body.

I watched as one particular droplet trailed down his neck, over his broad chest and well-defined abdomen, before absorbing into the towel wrapped around his hips.

“Nesta?”

Cauldron, boil me, I was ogling my own husband.

Tearing my eyes from his body, I met his gaze. I wasn’t entirely surprised to find heat there, simmering beneath the wall he’d put up between us. It had been a long time since I’d taken a moment to appreciate his body, a body he works hard to maintain, and I know he was as affected by our distance as I was.

Once I’d looked my fill, I cleared my throat, completely forgetting what he’d asked. “What?”

“Are you ready to go?”

I shook my head. “Almost. Just need to grab my shoes.”

He nodded, heading for his dresser, opening the top drawer, where his socks and underwear had always been tossed in with no rhyme or reason. As he began to rifle through it, I hurried into the bathroom, the steam already dissipating, and into my closet. Finding my heels was a matter of a few seconds and I was back into the bedroom before Cassian had even found a matching pair of socks.

“I’ll be downstairs,” I called, the straps of my shoes dangling from my fingers.

I only got two steps down the hall before I heard his voice call out behind me. “Nes?”

I turned, finding him standing in the bathroom doorway, a pair of black boxer briefs clutched in his hands. “Yes?”

“You look beautiful.”

A sudden pang of nausea swept through my stomach, fueled by excitement and longing at his words. I knew I was blushing. “Thank you.”

His smile almost reached his eyes as he disappeared into our bathroom and I hurried downstairs, Greg on my heels.

My beautiful, fat cat hopped onto the couch next to me in the living room as I put on my shoes, trying to control my shaking fingers.

My mind wanders back to my husband in a towel, as well as what lies beneath as I stand, my heels securely fastened. I take one last look at myself in the hallway mirror and take a deep breath as I hear Cassian coming down the stairs.

When he comes into view, I want to run up to him and kiss him deeply, but I stay where I am. He’s wearing black pants and a dark crimson button down, both of which are perfectly fitted to his gloriously sculpted body. The top few buttons are undone, and I can see glimpses of his chest tattoo. But the best part? His hair hangs loose.

“Ready?”

“Yes,” I say, nearly breathless, which makes him arch a brow. I clear my throat. “I’m starving.”

“Me too.” He comes near me, where his wallet and keys sit and snatch them up. He smells delicious, like that cologne I got him last Solstice. Once everything is in his pockets, he holds out his hand.

I blink before realizing what it is he wants.

Cassian is nothing short of a gentleman when it comes to a date.

I slip my hand in his and realize just how long it’s been since we’ve touched.

His fingers curl around mine as pulls me to my feet and we turn to head for the kitchen and the garage beyond. He drops my hand as he locks the door behind us and I’m surprised when he takes it again as we walk to his truck. It’s a short walk, but he’s apparently decided it’s been too long since we touched as well.

After closing me in the passenger side of the truck, he circles around until he’s sitting in the cab with me and starts it up. It roars to life and he backs out of the garage and the driveway.

As soon as he’s on the main road, he reaches over and threads my fingers in his.

I don’t say anything about it and neither does he, both of us silently enjoying the contact we’ve been denied for months.

“I made reservations at Sea and Vine,” he said, once the quiet in the cab was starting to feel less comfortable and more stifling. “I know how much you like their wine selection.”

The soft snort leaves me before I can stop it. “The wine selection, eh?” When I glance over at him, his ears are red. “Nothing to do with their cannolis?”

“Don’t hate on their cannolis,” he mutters, and I catch the hint of a smile.

The rest of the car ride isn’t bad. We make smalltalk, which feels strange and unnatural, but not awful. We make our way to Sea and Vine, and park at a parking meter a few streets over. As soon as we’re out of the truck, he takes my hand again and pulls me close.

The heat radiates off his body, and now that his hair is completely dry, I admire the thick waves. He hasn’t shaved in a week or so, and a steady scruff has captured his cheeks, his chin. I love it when he’s not clean shaven. I think it’s sexy.

Part of me wants to pull him into an alley and have him pin me up against the bricks. I want to revisit that heat we had when we were dating, when we were engaged, when we were newly married. There was a time when we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, when we would sneak away no matter where we were and fuck each other senseless.

I’m just now realizing how long it’s been since we’ve even been on a date. The whole concept feels foreign, and I’m almost unsure of what to do.

It’s all so ridiculous.

When we make it to the restaurant, we’re ushered to our table and Cassian pulls out my chair. Once he’s seated across from me, we fall back into our small talk. We share about our days, and how things have been going at work. I order my favorite wine and nearly melt in the deliciousness of it. Cassian asks them for a cannoli before we even order dinner.

To my delight, I’m enjoying myself. And, I’m hardly thinking about work, which is rare. I feel like I’m thinking about work every waking moment. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Gwyn seems nice,” Cassian says, once our food is placed in front of us. He has a plate of steak and pasta, while I have shrimp scampi.

“She does,” I agree. “I like her approach. Very casual.”

Cassian nods and pops a bite of steak into his mouth. “I have to admit that I wasn’t so sure about counseling…but, I didn’t mind it.”

“It’s nice, having someone there to play the mediator,” I say, jumping right in. We can tiptoe around our problems or we can face them head on. After months of awkwardness and half-assed conversations, I was ready to get back to who we were. I just had no idea where to start. “Someone to let us finish our thoughts when the other wants to jump in.”

He says nothing, just takes another bite of his exquisite steak and raises an eyebrow, indicating I’m the one who needed the reminder more than he did.

Which, to be fair, was true.

I can’t help but chuckle as I eat, swallowing my food before I speak. “I’m just saying, having an outside party is helpful.”

“I don’t disagree,” he says, twirling his fork in his pasta, not looking at me. “Especially when it comes to shit we don’t want to talk about.”

Immediately, my walls started to go up, not liking where he was leading the conversation. I swallowed harshly, but there was no food in my mouth.

Clearing my throat, I started, “I’m going to make an effort to be home more, Cass—”

“I’m not talking about your work, Nesta,” he pushed.

My jaw clenched and I stared at my plate, still full of food. Cassian’s chewing slowed as he watched me.

“I thought my work was the biggest part of our issues,” I began, slowly.

Cassian continued to eat, apparently able to eat through any sort of tension. “I think it’s a part of our issues. It’s not the only part of our issues, although it’s apparently the only part of our issues that you want to talk about.”

I’m quiet for a moment, pushing around my pasta on my plate. “Can we not? I want to enjoy my night.”

“I’m not trying to ruin our night,” Cassian says, his fork halting. “I’m just saying—”

“Well stop,” I snap, and instantly regret it. My eyes wander back to my plate. “I don’t want to talk about that tonight.”

“You don’t ever want to talk about it,” he mutters, and drops his fork. “It wouldn’t hurt to talk about it, Nesta.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We have to.”

“Not now.” The tone of my voice is final, and I see the hurt in his eyes. I know that what happened didn’t only affect me. It affected him, too, and we never had closure. I get that…but I can’t talk about it. I’m not ready. Even after all this time. I’m not ready.

We’re quiet for a moment, and I wonder if anyone at the tables surrounding us have picked up on our awkward choice of dinner conversation.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” I say, at last.

“Yeah.” Cassian’s not looking at me. All of the sudden, the mood has changed and we’re strangers again. “Me too.”

“Call for the check.”

His jaw locks but he gives me a stiff nod. With barely any of his food eaten, he motions for the server to come our way and asks for the check.

I feel guilty.

I also feel angry.

Uncomfortable.

Sad.

We sit in complete silence as our check is retrieved and we’re brought to-go boxes. I dump my shrimp scampi into one, and he pushes his steak into another.

We barely make it out of the restaurant before he says, “I’m sorry.”

“About what?” I ask, as if I don’t know, which seems to make him mad.

“Don’t do that,” he says, stopping under a streetlight to glare at me.

“Don’t do what?” I ask, unable to stop my act, not knowing why.

I can tell he’s frustrated, can tell he’s getting pissed. I notice he’s not reaching for my hand this time.

“Act like you never have any fucking clue what I’m talking about,” he hisses. “I need you to communicate, Nesta. I need you to talk to me, to be open to me, to give me something of substance. I’m tired of these surface, meaningless conversations, and I’m tired of you avoiding everything we have to get out in the open. Therapy only goes so far.”

“Why couldn’t we just have a nice night?” I cry, and I hate myself for getting emotional. “We haven’t had a date in forever. This was supposed to be good for us.” And now we’re fighting on the fucking street.

Cassian just shakes his head and shrugs. “It’s not my fault.”

“Oh, right, it’s mine! It’s always my fault. It’s my fault we drifted apart, it’s my fault that you want a divorce, it’s my fault that we can’t—” the words fade away from me, stuck on my tongue. A tear falls that I wish kept itself hidden.

He stiffens. “Nesta—”

“Go home, Cassian.” I start to walk away, but he quickly follows me.

“Come on. Let’s just go to the truck—”

“I’ll find my own way home,” I snap, trying my best to hurry ahead of him. I don’t look at him. I hardly acknowledge his presence. I need to be alone.

“Nes—”

“Please, Cassian!” I spin around, meeting his eyes. I can’t stop the tears from falling, can’t stop the feeling of utterly falling apart. “Leave me alone! Go home.”

I hate the angst in his eyes, the confusion, the loss. “Where are you going?”

I shake my head, backing up slowly. “I’ll see you at home.”

This time, when I walk away from him, he doesn’t chase after me.

#better or worse #nessian bow #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #nessian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #sjm fanfic #snacmc collabs #snelbz x theladyofdeath collab #angst #modern au

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